Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Andrew’s alarm went off at five in the morning, like it always did. One cat walked up his spine as he reached to quiet the beeping of his phone, letting out a quiet ‘meow’ into his ear. Andrew glanced back and reached to scratch King under her chin, the soft rumble of her purrs a much more welcome alternative to the harsh beeping of his alarm. King hopped away after a few seconds, meowing quietly again and padding towards the edge of the bed.

“Hungry?” Andrew asked, pushing up from the mattress.

Waiting for him in the hallway was Sir: a light ginger tabby with white mittens, sitting with her head held high as Andrew walked towards her. Both cats were named by Andrew’s cousin, their nicknames much more preferable to their full ones. King’s tortoiseshell fur caught in the sunlight streaming through the large windows of the apartment as she joined Sir in the hall, guiding Andrew to their empty food bowls. Andrew filled their dishes and left them to eat, walking back to his bedroom to change and grab his gym bag. He’d always preferred working out early in the morning, when nobody was around to bother him.

After changing, Andrew stopped back in the kitchen to grab his water bottle and a banana while the cats started their day. Checking on them one last time, Andrew locked his door after him as he made his way to the building’s exit. The gym was just a few blocks away, not long enough that Andrew would bother driving when the weather was nice. It was still cold out in January, but not enough to freeze, so unless there was snow on the ground or it was pouring rain, Andrew would walk.

These mornings were always the same: get up early, go to the gym, grab breakfast on the way home, and then start work. Routine helped immensely when one worked from home, and it was an added bonus that Andrew could truthfully tell Bee, his adoptive mom, that he did talk to people outside of family. She never asked about the amount of people he talked to - that was a completely different matter.

Andrew walked up the steps to the gym doors at about six, quickly checking in and then heading to the locker rooms. He grabbed his water bottle, gloves and wrist-wraps, foregoing the belt he wore for squats, before locking up his bag and making his way into the main gym. It wasn’t empty this early in the morning, but there were only a few other people that were too engrossed with their own workouts to bother paying attention to those around them. It was the perfect time, in Andrew’s opinion.

On a treadmill was Kevin Day, one of the few people Andrew could tell Bee he spoke to outside of family. Kevin was someone Andrew met in college and ended up keeping - somewhat reluctantly - contact with afterwards. They’d remained close enough to study and to be roommates, but those days were long gone. They were friends, but not friends, and Andrew preferred it that way. 

Andrew walked past him to find an empty weight rack and started to stretch, grabbing one of the thin PVC pipes to stretch his shoulders for lifting. He’d woken up that morning determined to beat his max weight for bench press, but would have to wait until Kevin was done with his cardio to have a spotter. He took his time stretching, working away the ache in his joints after taking a rest day on Sunday. Finally, Kevin finished up, wiping a towel across his forehead and nodding to affirm he was ready. 

They made their usual small talk, inquires about work and lives that neither of them really cared about. Their lives were somehow intertwined and yet out of touch, only texting and meeting up here rather than making plans to go out. After beating his bench press max and an easygoing weight lifting workout, Andrew managed to duck out of the gym before Kevin could try to convince him to do cardio. He made his way home, checking his watch as he went. 

Seven in the morning. Right on time.

Like he always did after working out in the morning, Andrew stopped by the bakery just a block away from his apartment. It was pretty small, a large sign with the words ‘Flour Pot’ in large green letters over the door. The interior was all cream colors and wood furniture, shelves displaying baked goods and small succulents in the windows. There was no seating inside, just a long counter with a register and a case full of delicious looking baked goods on display. The kitchen door swung open as the bells announced Andrew’s arrival, the baker walking through with a forced customer-service smile before he recognized just who came into the store, dropping to something much smaller.

“Oh, it’s you,” said Neil Josten, sighing as he walked to the bakery display at the counter. He wordlessly pulled out a double chocolate-chip muffin, bigger than Andrew’s fist. “This can’t be healthy.”

It was what he always said, and yet it never stopped him from selling Andrew said muffin every morning. “One of yours?” Andrew asked.

“Of course it is, nobody else makes good enough stuff to go on display,” Neil said with a shrug. He tapped a few buttons on his register, then grabbed a small brown bag and gently placed Andrew’s muffin inside, tempting him from the small window in the front. Just above was their logo—a small flower pot with two cinnamon sticks and wheat inside. The entire pun Neil’s bakery was named after was completely ridiculous, yet somehow endearing.

Honestly, the entire bakery was just that. It had barely been a full year since the place first opened, immediately tempting Andrew and his love of just about every baked good known to man. He’d been able to look past the terrible pun and went inside on a Saturday, when it was a little busy but not packed. A couple of high-school kids were working at the time, frazzled and yet managing to keep their too-large smiles as they ran around behind the counter and to the back room. Andrew had arrived just in time for Neil to walk out of the kitchen with a new batch of muffins, so he ordered one.

He’s been coming about every day since, only now he’d only come early in the morning. It was before anyone else that worked for Neil showed up to handle the morning rush, when he was baking alone in the store. It gave them plenty of time for some friendly small talk, and for Andrew to admire how attractive Neil is. 

Neil was entirely too pretty for his own good, Andrew was sure. His hair was auburn in color, not quite dark enough to be mistaken for brown. The skin visible was littered with scars: across his left cheek was a nastily healed burn, and on his right were crude lines clearly made by a blade. His knuckles were bumpy with scar tissues, some thinner lines visible along his hands. None of them were pretty, but they were easy to see past after a year of seeing Neil almost daily, and Andrew knew better than to judge someone based upon their scars.

Despite any weather condition, Neil always wore baggy and long-sleeved clothes underneath his dark green apron. When it was warm the fabric was thinner, and when it got cold he wore sweaters, none of them necessarily flattering. And yet they always looked so right on Neil, as though they fit him despite frayed cuffs and hems, visible stains or size. Despite the questionable style choice, Neil always looked comfortable and confident.

And the thing that brought everything home had to be Neil’s eyes. At first glance they had been striking, almost chilling, but nowadays the blue felt much warmer. They looked like the color of the sky during a sunset as the light blue faded to dark, finally reaching black in his pupil. Andrew had never gotten close enough, but he’d always wondered if the white shine of a light in Neil’s eyes would look like stars.

Long story short, Neil was very attractive. Andrew's one weakness has always been attractive men, and he occasionally wondered if he’d still come to the bakery regularly if Neil wasn’t the one to greet him at the counter every day. However, despite seeing him every morning for almost a full year, Andrew hadn’t asked for Neil’s number. That was mostly because he wasn’t interested in taking Neil out on a date, and propositioning Neil at seven in the morning definitely wasn’t the best plan. Andrew wanted to kiss Neil, and maybe fuck him if Neil was down for it, but he didn’t want to go out on a date. He’d never wanted to pursue a relationship.

That always seemed to be the root of his problems.

Today Neil was wearing a thin gray sweater, one Andrew had seen him in countless times before. His skin was slightly flushed and hair messy, curling just slightly and sticking to his forehead from the heat of baking. Neil finally stopped messing with the register, pushing the bag with the muffin across the counter to Andrew and putting one hand on top of the receipt machine.

Andrew tried to think of something to say while reaching for his wallet, tucked away in his gym bag. “Jack burn another batch?”

Neil huffed. “Yes. He’s banned to cashier duty.”

“How unfortunate for your customers.” Andrew slid his card into the pin pad, watching the small smile that rose on Neil’s face after hearing his comment.

“He’s infuriatingly good at customer service,” Neil said, glancing down at the beeping pin pad, then back at Andrew. “You know, when it beeps you can take it out.”

Andrew rushed to grab his card, heat burning the tips of his ears as he did, throwing his wallet back in his bag. After that, he grabbed his muffin and offered Neil a two-fingered salute as he walked out of the bakery, heading back towards his apartment. He was long past asking himself if that was a bad move or not, just accepting it as the departing gesture he always gave Neil.

Like just about every day before this one, it was only after Andrew had gotten back inside the safety of his apartment that he cursed himself for not getting Neil’s number.

~*~

After a day filled with frustrating bug fixes and sitting in the same chair for almost four hours straight, Andrew finally turned off his computer just after five in the afternoon and stood up to stretch. He put his blue-light glasses on his desk and rubbed his eyes, trying and failing to pop his spine to relieve the tension between his shoulder blades. The cats that had been trying to distract him all day were now waiting dutifully on the kitchen counter, right underneath the cabinet that housed their good wet food.

“Needy shits,” Andrew mumbled as he opened the cabinet and grabbed a can. The clank of the tin alerted the cats, their hungry meows echoing through the whole kitchen.

With King and Sir now happily munching on their seafood pate, Andrew went to his fridge and started trying to decide what to make for dinner that night. He had some leftover stroganoff from the day before, when he’d been in the mood for it, but he definitely wasn’t now. Unfortunately, he also wasn’t in the mood to make something, so he decided to bite the bullet and just eat the leftovers. When Andrew walked towards the counter island and pulled out a plate, he noticed his phone light up with an incoming call. The screen went black just a second later.

Well, there could only be two people that called, which meant it was either Bee or Nicky. When he checked he found that unfortunately it was the latter, so Andrew decided to wait for Nicky to call back, bringing his phone with him to where the tupperware of leftovers was waiting. It only took a few seconds for Nicky to start calling again, forced to wait until the last ring, when Andrew finally picked up.

“This one’s important!” Nicky shouted as soon as Andrew answered.

“Uh-huh,” Andrew hummed back.

“Yeah! So, Erik’s birthday is coming up, and I was thinking before we head to Stuttgart we should throw a surprise party. Streamers, cake, presents, I’ll invite all our friends.”

“Okay,” Andrew replied, popping open the tupperware container. “This could have been a text.”

“You would’ve left me on read,” Nicky pointed out, which was true. “I called so you and Alex can come. You always have complications otherwise, which I don’t know how. Aaron’s convinced he isn’t real.”

Well, that was because ‘Alex’ isn’t real. He was just a name coupled with a few stories made up when needed to keep others satisfied. Alex never came around for holidays or family get-togethers, had never been brought to ‘meet the family’, and had never had his picture taken. He couldn’t even make it to Andrew’s own birthday, and while he knew his family was at the very least concerned, they were obviously starting to get suspicious. 

But it was more annoying getting constantly nagged for not being interested in anyone at all.

Andrew never had been. He knew that was just the way he was - the idea of being that close to another person had only ever felt uncomfortable at best and violating at worst. He was perfectly content living the rest of his life with his family and few friends, hooking up from time to time when the mood struck. Andrew found other people physically attractive, and he enjoyed sex, but a relationship? Anything similar to what Nicky or Aaron had? No.

Still, this seemed impossible for anyone other than Bee to accept. Nicky had been by far the worst, but Aaron had done his fair share of pushing and even Kevin mentioned it once. The only other person that hadn’t said anything had been Renee Walker, another friend but not a friend from college. One day, Andrew had simply gotten fed up and made up a story using the first name that came to mind. It had worked well enough for three years.

Now, though, it was becoming a hindrance. When asked enough times about it, Andrew said that he and Alex had eloped with the one witness being Renee, who was sympathetic enough to go along with Andrew’s lie. Ever since then, his family had been more pushy than ever, almost demanding to see Alex. The whole thing was seriously getting out of hand.

Silent for a second, Andrew tried to figure out what to say now. He couldn’t say that there were plans that far ahead, not without Nicky getting upset or trying to show up to see proof that Alex existed. Him and Aaron would one day figure it out if Andrew didn’t come clean soon. 

“Andrew?” Nicky asked, concern in his tone.

“He can’t come,” Andrew said, turning away from the counter to lean against it instead. The words ‘he was never real’ were stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t get them out. Nicky had made a noise at first, but paused, waiting for more. Going through his options, it only became clearer to himself that Andrew is self-destructive at best, because instead of explaining the truth he went with, “We’re divorced.”

Nicky made a noise again: some kind of squeak that he forced quiet. “Oh - since when?” he asked.

“Last year,” Andrew replied vaguely.

Luckily, Nicky didn’t seem to realize that the new year had just started, and didn’t push for details. “I’m so sorry. Is that why you said he couldn’t come for Christmas?”

“Something like that.”

“Shit, Andrew. We would’ve been there for you.”

“Not your problem,” Andrew said, turning back around to dump his stroganoff onto the plate and toss it in the microwave.

“No, but we’re here for you.” Nicky paused for a second, but Andrew could practically feel him thinking through the call, and braced himself for whatever else he was going to say. “Want me to set you up on a blind date?” he asked jokingly.

Andrew didn’t find it funny. “Don’t bother,” he said back, tapping one finger to the beeping of the microwave as the seconds ticked down.

“Don’t -? Uh, huh?”  

That wasn’t a good tone.

“What,” Andrew huffed, finally taking his stroganoff out of the microwave.

“Something to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmmm,” Nicky hummed, amusement in his tone. “So, can someone come to Erik’s birthday?”

Oh, no . “No,” Andrew said, already knowing it was a second too late.

“Oh my God!” Nicky yelled. “You’re sending me on a rollercoaster, you know! Telling me you got divorced, but there’s someone else now, huh? Clearly we need to work on communication.”

“Or you need to mind your business,” Andrew argued.

Nicky ignored him. “Well, bring him to Erik’s birthday - no, no, even better! Bring him to dinner on Sunday!”

“Fine,” Andrew growled, ending the phone call before things could get worse. He grabbed a fork and angrily stabbed some of the noodles on his plate, barely tasting anything he ate for the next few minutes while he thought the call over. He’d meant to get over that lie, but nothing had really changed, huh? Only now he actually had to bring someone over on Sunday, when the family would get together for dinner. Usually it was at Bee’s home, but since she’d be visiting friends out of town, it was going to be at Nicky and Erik’s.

And Andrew didn’t have anyone to bring over.

He decided to throw away the rest of the stroganoff and hand wash his dishes to calm his racing mind. Already he knew this whole thing was a bad idea, because there was no way Andrew could find someone to date by Sunday. Not even for a single day, because everyone would then be expecting that person to come by for Erik’s birthday, and days after that, and…

This was not good. At least Bee wouldn’t be there.

Chapter Text

Andrew dodged another one of Renee’s punches, aiming a kick towards her shins that she just managed to jump away from. They’d been sparring for almost an hour now, taking breaks between rounds but barely saying a word in-between. This was how most of their matches went: one would text the other, they’d meet up, beat the shit out of each other, and then maybe talk about what was going on.

Tuesday had been fucking with Andrew’s head as he replayed his conversation the night before over and over again, unable to stop. For some reason, he hadn’t texted Nicky back explaining the truth, and how nobody but himself would be showing up on Sunday. No, instead he’d been consumed with trying to figure out what to do about everything before it somehow got more out of hand.

Sparring was an outlet for his frustration, even if Renee was doing far more ass-kicking than Andrew was. He knew his distracted thoughts helped play into his sloppiness, but knowing that didn’t help his performance. At least Renee was kind enough to pull her punches just a bit, which meant the bruises he’d have later wouldn’t hurt as badly. 

After dodging one of Andrew’s punches, she hopped backwards and lowered her guard, wordlessly stopping the round. Andrew lowered his own guard, trying to keep breathing through his nose no matter how hard it was. He followed Renee to the wall and sat down against it, watching as she unwrapped the wraps around her hands. She didn’t say anything, so Andrew focused on his breathing, wondering if she would. Sometimes she did.

“I could’ve pinned or knocked you out twenty different times,” she said, rolling the wraps up slowly. “At least.”

Andrew hummed in response, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. He’d been off his game enough that she was pointing it out, her way of voicing her concern. She would never go easy on him, but at least she was considerate enough not to pin or knock him out.

“Want to talk?” she asked.

Taking in one last slow breath, Andrew started to explain. He went over the details of the phone call the night before and the root of his problem: he didn’t have anyone to bring on Sunday. Well, technically Nicky had assumed there was someone to come at all. Andrew hadn’t said that he was dating anyone.

Then again, he hadn’t argued against it, either.

“Do you want to bring someone?” Renee asked.

The automatic answer was ‘no’, but Andrew took a moment to think about it. Honestly, it would just be easier at this point if he had someone he could bring along, because at least that would stop his family from annoying him with phone calls and texts and everything else. So, did Andrew want to bring someone? No, not at all. But did he want to, in that he wanted to be left alone about everything? Yes.

He didn’t like saying he was unsure about something, so Andrew didn’t say anything at all. Renee seemed to understand anyways - she usually seemed to. “What if you found someone to play along with you?” she asked, pushing to her feet. “Is there someone who would?”

No, there wasn’t. Andrew's silence answered her question.

“I can’t understand what it’s like for you,” Renee said, looking serious and sincere, “but I am sorry. You should either tell them the truth or find someone to go with. I’m sure there’s people who would do it if you paid them.”

Well, as if the situation couldn’t get any sadder. 

“I’m not paying anyone to date me,” Andrew said. But now that she had put the idea in his head…no, no, that was way  closer to being a sugar daddy than he was comfortable with. 

“Hm, too bad we’re both out to your family,” Renee said through a smile. She got up and stretched her arms over her head. “I would’ve gone with you.”

“A terrible idea,” Andrew mumbled, only because it was an amazing idea and he couldn’t believe he didn’t think about this three years ago, before Renee had a girlfriend and before he suddenly came out to his family by casually mentioning ‘Alex’.

The two stopped talking, taking some time to stretch and recover after their sparring session. After they cleaned the place up they went their separate ways, Andrew heading to his car and driving it back to his apartment. It was already dark despite it only being six at night, and the air had a biting chill to it that made Andrew pull his coat closer to his body. At least there wasn’t snow.

His drive back didn’t take long, and he was bombarded by starving cats the moment he walked through the door. Sir kept getting in front of Andrew’s feet as he walked, and he nearly dropped his gym bag on King, but both cats made it to the cabinet where their food was fully intact and meowing pitifully. They both tried to steal a bite of food before Andrew could finish portioning it into their food bowls, resulting in being pushed away. But the two sat adorably on the floor when their food was finally ready, immediately digging in when the bowls were placed before them.

Andrew had first gotten the cats because his therapist recommended it following graduation. It was the first time he’d been living alone ever, thanks to a sports scholarship that got him through his degree and also got him Kevin as a roommate for five years. Going from living in a small dorm room to having an entire apartment to himself wasn’t as jarring as he thought it would be, but the silence only amplified the absence of any life other than himself. He’d gone to the shelter with the intention of getting one, but he couldn’t find it in him to separate the two cats he’d met there.

“They’re from two separate litters,” the shelter employee had explained, “but we found them both alone. They’ve been inseparable since we introduced them to each other.”

He knew what that was like. He took them both.

Before college, Andrew always had Aaron. The both of them were put in the foster system after being born, and had been lucky enough to stick together through a few families until they got to Bee. She’d been in her mid thirties, was a counselor, and despite preparing a room for each twin hadn’t batted an eye when they chose to share a room instead. They always shared a room, though eventually did move to their own spaces in high-school.

There was always Aaron, and then Bee, and then Nicky. Their cousin happened to overhear something about his aunt Tilda putting her children up for adoption and managed to find them. The reunion had been nothing but messy, especially when Nicky’s parents came into the situation, but Bee had long since legally adopted the twins and Tilda was six feet under by then. The twins held onto Nicky once they had him, even when he went away to Germany and found a boyfriend and hoped to settle down there one day.

Erik decided to come to America to complete his Masters degree. Once he he did, he and Nicky had plans to move permanently to Germany. Aaron had met Katelyn, a former cheerleader sharing most of his general classes, and then went on to marry her before he finished med school. The two now had twins of their own, who sent a letter once a month ever since they learned how the mail worked.

Andrew supposed that he could understand his family’s worries when he compared himself to them. But he never felt lonely, not with the cats or his family just a call away. Not with Sunday dinners or meeting Kevin every morning for a workout. Not with Renee to talk to, or Neil to look forward to seeing in the morning. He was alone, but never felt it.

Blinking a few times to stop thinking so hard about it, Andrew focused on finishing browning the meat for his burrito and pushing King away from the stove. It sizzled lightly as it cooked, and Andrew paused his stirring when his phone lit up on the counter with an incoming text from Bee.

Sorry I’ll miss Sunday. Don’t let the boys get to you too much. 

If there is someone to meet, I’d be happy to when I get back.

Thinking of you.

Somewhere deep down, Andrew wondered if she was secretly hoping that there was someone. He was no closer to having a solution to that, though. He quickly sent her something back. 

Focus on packing

She’d know he didn’t mean the words as harshly as they might’ve come across. She always knew, and she didn’t send anything back, either. That night, Andrew opened up Nicky’s contact four times and even started drafting a ‘I don’t actually have someone to bring on Sunday’ message, but something held him back. He didn’t send it.

~*~

When Andrew woke up the next morning, he wasn’t any closer to finding a solution.

He went through the motions of his routine, getting up to his alarm and feeding the cats. He grabbed his gym bag and went to workout, hoping that power lifting would get his mind off of the issue at hand. It didn’t, as Kevin so graciously pointed out.

“Don’t lift if you’re distracted,” he scolded. “Do some cardio. Run on the treadmill if you have to.”

Andrew would never run on the treadmill if he could help it, so he brushed off what Kevin said and poured his frustration into the last of the squats he did that day. He left the gym earlier than usual, glad that he could at least look forward to a muffin at Flour Pot.

Unlike most other times Andrew showed up, Neil was already standing behind the counter, putting fresh scones in the display case. He looked up when Andrew walked through the door, the little bell jingling lightly enough to announce his arrival. “You’re here early,” Neil said, looking back at what he was doing. “Did Kevin annoy you?”

Maybe it was a testament to how annoying Kevin could be that Neil remembered who he was, because Andrew didn’t usually talk about other people he knew, even his family. Neil was the exception to that, over the year learning what Andrew’s job was, that he had a brother, and that he had two cats. At one point, Andrew had grumbled something about Kevin being irritating about his workout plan, and that he’d really benefit from doing some cardio from time to time. Neil had never mentioned it, but apparently he remembered that moment to make a comment like this.

“Yes,” Andrew said truthfully, because Kevin had, however unintentionally it might’ve been. It had only added to his frustration over this Sunday, and how painfully obvious it was becoming that he’d better come clean sooner rather than later. He should’ve just sent that text last night.

“Well, maybe chocolate will make the pain go away,” Neil said with a smile that was a bit too wide. “You should get more sleep. Your eye bags are really dark.”

The bag Andrew’s daily muffin was placed in crinkled loudly in the silence of the store. Andrew walked up to the counter and tiredly pulled out his wallet, wondering just how bad he looked. He hadn’t bothered to check before leaving his apartment that morning, but his sleep schedule had only been getting worse with each day that passed this week thanks to - 

Andrew stopped mid-way through pulling out his credit card. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, but something about Neil made him look like he was shining, like he was the answer Andrew had been searching for this whole time. Which was strange, because all the lighting in the store had a warm glow to them and Neil was in all-black that day, but there he was. Certainly an…option.

“ You should either tell them the truth or find someone to go with. I’m sure there’s people who would do it if you paid them.”

“Hm, too bad we’re both out to your family. I would’ve gone with you.”

Well, Neil wasn’t as familiar to Andrew as someone like Renee was, but they knew each other in the general sense. He knew more about Neil than Kevin, at least, and Neil was far more pleasant to be around in the first place. Andrew knew he wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship, but the thought of taking Neil to dinner on Sunday didn’t make him uncomfortable. Besides, what did he have to lose by asking?

As Neil put his muffin on the counter and typed into the register, Andrew asked, “Do you date?”

“No,” was Neil’s immediate answer. He tilted his head, eyes watching Andrew, almost like he was trying to stare right through him. “Are you asking?”

“Not exactly.” Andrew was very glad nobody came to the bakery this early in the morning. He leaned on the counter, quieting his voice as though anyone but Neil would be around to hear him. “My family has been on me for not being in a relationship, so I made one up.”

“You made…?” Neil asked, frowning like he didn’t understand.

“I’ve tried explaining I don’t see anyone that way,” Andrew pushed out, looking down at his hands. “I never have. They don’t get it, so I thought it would be easier to make something up, only now they want proof. They want to meet someone.” Andrew looked up again, straight into Neil’s eyes. “So, would you be my fake-date?”

Neil didn’t answer right away, and he was clearly thinking. His eyebrows furrowed just slightly and his jaw tensed, but he didn’t say ‘no’. That was further than Andrew thought he would get. “You’ve never felt that way for anyone?” Neil finally asked.

“Never,” Andrew confirmed.

“And telling them that didn’t change anything?”

“Don’t think they believe me,” Andrew admitted.

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Neil said, shrugging as though he hadn’t been intensely thinking about it for thirty seconds. “I’m the same way. My friends don’t really get it, either.”

Andrew hummed once, nodding in understanding. No, this was even more perfect - if they both don’t feel anything romantically for anyone, then there would be no complications. They’d be able to do this easily. “What do you want in exchange?” 

“Exchange?” Neil asked. The little frown came back as he thought. “Dinner. Every night. I’m not a great cook and I forget to have it, sometimes.”

That was it? Andrew almost asked that, but instead he forced himself to nod. He was a good cook, he liked cooking. He could make Neil anything he wanted. It couldn’t be an even deal, but he wasn’t going to question it. Holding out a hand to shake, Neil glanced at it once before reaching out, their hands barely brushing for a second as they shook on it. Neil pulled back immediately and then grabbed a bit of receipt paper, writing on it.

“Here. My number.” Neil offered that tiny smile. “You can tell me all about your ex over dinner. I’ll be there around six.”

Andrew nodded, slipping the receipt paper in his pocket and writing down his address for Neil on another piece. After that, he finished paying for his muffin and left after offering a two-fingered salute. 

It didn’t register that he’d successfully gotten Neil’s number until he got back to his apartment.

Chapter Text

Andrew spent way too long trying to find a recipe for dinner that night on Pinterest, but in the end he decided to make pasta with red sauce and sausage. He left work early to go grocery shopping for any last minute things he'd need for that night, glad he didn't have to worry about setting anything out to dethaw. Hopefully Neil would like the dish, and if he didn’t they could just order takeout or something. Still, Andrew went all out, preparing some homemade garlic bread to go with the pasta and cooking some zucchini as well. His kitchen was an absolute mess by the time the pasta was left to simmer in the sauce.

The buzzer to Andrew’s apartment went off at about six fifteen, right after the garlic bread came out of the oven. He let Neil up, opening the door when he arrived and pushing away the cats so that he could get inside and take off his shoes. King and Sir kept their distance at first, but they were clearly curious, hopping onto the table and counter as Neil walked inside. He didn't hide how he was glancing around Andrew’s apartment.

“Nice place,” he said, almost absentmindedly.

“Thanks,” Andrew replied, walking towards his cabinet of cups. “It came mostly furnished.”

“Nice,” Neil said, but he didn’t sound that interested. Andrew grabbed a glass cup and held it up in question. “Just water.”

After pouring Neil a glass of water and handing it over, Andrew walked back to the stove, mixing the pasta with the sauce more. “You never said what you wanted,” he pointed out, glancing over his shoulder to watch Neil hold out a hand for Sir, letting her sniff it once before she pressed her head to it.

“I like pasta,” Neil said, scratching behind Sir’s ears. King seemed to get jealous, walking over and pressing her head to the hand still holding the glass. “What’re your cats’ names?”

“King and Sir,” Andrew replied, pointing out each cat as he said their names. He walked close to the counter the three were at, reaching for where he put his plates and dishing up a healthy amount of pasta for the both of them. “I’ll spare you the rest.”

“The rest?” Neil asked.

“My cousin named them.”

A tiny smile pushed at Neil’s cheeks. “They’re that ridiculous?”

Andrew decided not to explain, grabbing both plates and walking towards the small table he had next to a floor-to-ceiling window. Neil followed, only sitting down when Andrew pointed at a seat, continuing to look around the apartment as if he was trying to find something. After plating up a few pieces of garlic bread and putting the cooked zucchini in a bowl, Andrew finally sat down.

The air wasn’t awkward, but there was some kind of tension there. “How was work?” Andrew asked, because he didn’t know what else to say to get the conversation moving in the right direction. He was stalling, and he knew it, but it was still hard to believe that Neil was here at all, regardless of the circumstances.

“Fine,” Neil said with a frown. He slowly reached for the fork at his spot and twirled some pasta, but didn’t go to eat anything. He wouldn’t stop staring. “How was yours?”

“Fine,” Andrew said back.

Okay, now the atmosphere was awkward. It was clear that the two of them weren’t the kind of people to waste time asking pointless questions, and yet neither of them wanted to break first. Andrew wondered if Neil would ever make the first move and ask about the actual situation at hand - that being the whole fake-dating thing - but he didn’t budge. Just kept staring, to the point that it started to feel unnerving.

“About us dating,” Andrew began.

“Yeah, skip the pleasantries,” Neil said, leaning forward. “Let’s never do that again. Tell me about this… thing.”

“There aren’t many details,” Andrew explained, sitting back in his chair. “I got fed up one day. Made up a name on the spot.”

“How long ago?”

“Three years.”

Neil gave him a flat look. “You were pretending to have a boyfriend for…three years?”

“We got married,” Andrew added.

“That doesn’t make it better.” Neil picked up his fork again to take another bite of the pasta. “And now you want me to be your new fake-boyfriend.”

“I need someone to come by once in a while,” Andrew said. “Someone to mention from time to time.”

“And you want me to do it?”’

“I have limited options.”

Neil shrugged. “So, pretend to be your boyfriend, show up to meet your family during the holidays?”

“Yes. We part as unlikely friends.”

“I can do that.” Neil paused to eat some more pasta, clearly thinking. “Luckily for you, this would benefit me too.”

He’d said that earlier. “Your friends don’t get it, either.”

“I’m like you: I don’t swing.” Neil’s lips quirked up into a smirk. “I guess that makes us the perfect pair for this, huh?”

Well, it wasn’t that Andrew didn’t swing per-say, but he figured the details didn’t matter so long as Neil was in. “Someone to mention from time to time?”

“Yeah.” 

He didn’t explain more, so Andrew didn’t push. He picked up his fork again and ate a few small bites of his pasta, but with Neil sitting right across from him he felt as though he’d lost his appetite. Neil tried the garlic bread and they talked about that for a minute as Neil somehow both complemented Andrew on how good the bread tasted and also rambled for a minute about how to make the perfect garlic bread. 

“I’ll make some for you tomorrow,” he said, glancing around the apartment again. “From scratch.”

It was at that moment Andrew realized Neil would be coming over every night for dinner. “All that work just to prove a point?”

“Garlic bread isn’t a joke,” Neil mumbled. “Anyways, back to the important thing: anything else about your ex I should know? What was he like?”

It was so strange to talk about 'Alex' as though he was a real person. Andrew took a moment to think, trying to remember any specific things about he’d mentioned to his family, and he…he couldn’t come up with anything. It had just… been, he supposed, and he’d avoided talking about things Alex liked or disliked, his birthday or any characteristics. The most he’d given was a vague description, since he had no pictures, and the first job he’d thought of at the time.

“Distant,” Andrew ended up saying.

“Distant?” Neil repeated, frowning.

“He’s never around,” Andrew explained. “Misses holidays, family get-togethers, birthdays. He’s a pilot, so he flies around a lot.”

“Okay.” Neil was still frowning, clearly thinking. “So, he was an asshole.”

“Essentially,” Andrew said quietly, looking back at his plate. Aaron had called Alex that on more than one occasion, especially when he failed to show on Andrew’s birthday. The twins hadn’t stopped saying, “Fucking asshole!” over and over, no matter how many times Katelyn and Aaron tried to get them to stop. If Andrew gave them an extra scoop of ice cream that day, it definitely wasn’t because of that.

“Well, then how did you break up?” Neil asked.

That was the question, wasn’t it? Andrew hadn’t figured out that part of the story, hoping his family would leave it be if he said he didn’t want to talk about it. But having a backup plan was a good idea. “I couldn’t do long distance,” Andrew decided to say. “Our lives were too apart to stick together, it wasn’t fair to either of us.”

Neil nodded. “That’s good. Makes up for the rest of the lies you couldn’t connect. Not too much detail that you trip over it, either.”

He said it so casually, like Neil was used to lying to the point that he had it down to a science. It was one of the things that reminded Andrew that, while Neil was familiar and someone he was friendly with, he really didn’t know that much about the man sitting across from him. That would be a problem. “What about you?”

“Me?” Neil asked, blinking in surprise. He planted an elbow on the table and held his head up, shrugging. “We moved all the time. Parents were always working, never really saw them. Managed to survive through high school, tried a year at a community college, dropped out. I worked at a local bakery for the next few years, the owner was nice enough to rent out the space above for me to live in. Finally started my own last year.”

He maintained eye contact the entire time he told the story, as though searching for something. Neil’s blue eyes felt chilling for a moment, but it passed as quickly as it came, and Andrew released the tension in his shoulders he hadn’t realized was there. “Lies,” he said.

Neil smiled. It was small, just like earlier, no flash of teeth or thinning of lips. Just a slight push at his cheeks and crinkle at the corners of his eyes. “Lucky guess,” he said, teasing. He picked up his fork and twirled some more pasta around it. “So, what about you?”

“I have a twin brother,” Andrew began, letting Neil's lies go. “We were adopted when we were seven. Met our cousin when we were sixteen. I graduated in computer science, Aaron went on to med school.”

“Wow.” Neil looked a little surprised, but he seemed to get over it quickly. “Can you hack?”

Andrew suddenly remembered a time he’d opened up the developer tools on the Google search page and showed Nicky, claiming he was hacking. Nicky still thought he hacked Google. “To an extent,” Andrew admitted. “I took a class on it.”

“Huh. So, what do you do?”

“Depends on the day. Fixing our company’s software, consulting, designing websites.”

Neil’s eyes lit up. “Can you make me a website?”

“Make yourself one.”

“But you literally went to school to learn how to do it!”

“Sure. And there’s websites that allow you to build websites.”

“Andrew,” Neil huffed, leaning on the table again. “Come on, I’m pretending to be your boyfriend. Your fake-boyfriend would really like it if you made him a website.”

Maybe this wasn’t a good plan after all. Andrew could so clearly see what it could look like in his head. It would probably take him a week to build a few pages, because Neil wouldn’t need a database… “Maybe,” Andrew found himself saying, which seemed to satisfy Neil enough to let it go.

“We can come back to that later,” he said, looking far too pleased with himself. “Speaking of fake-boyfriend, how did we meet?”

“The same way we did in real life?”

“In which you only just asked me earlier today if I’d fake-date you?” Neil asked, that smirk back on his face. “I couldn’t give you my number while working, it’s unprofessional.”

“Eden’s, then.”

“Eden’s?”

“A bar,” Andrew explained. “They’ll know it.”

“Perfect.” Neil reached for the napkin at his place and pulled a pen out of his pocket, gently writing on it. “Okay, what else?”

~*~

The beeping of the alarm set to go off at five in the morning didn’t seem as harsh, for some reason. Andrew easily opened his eyes and realized he felt well rested, reaching over to turn off his alarm without so much as a yawn. King and Sir were awake, as usual, but they didn’t have to jump on the bed to remind Andrew it was breakfast time. He got up, stretched once, and went about his morning routine.

Neil had left late that night, after they continued talking about their fake-relationship plans and washed the dishes together. Once they started talking it was like they were unable to stop, and Andrew’s throat felt slightly raw by the time Neil finally left that night. Andrew had walked him out, along with King and Sir, who had hovered throughout the entire meal and kept trying to steal Neil’s attention until he finally left.

It was nice to talk to someone else. Andrew didn’t have much interaction throughout his day, able to focus on work without much interruption from meetings or texts. It was great for working from home, but Andrew hadn’t realized how little he talked in a day until he talked to Neil all last night. He didn’t hate having the company.

He left at the same time he always did, walking down the streets towards the gym, the knowledge that he’d see Neil afterwards and then again that night for dinner making his heart beat a little faster. Impulsively, he took out his phone and sent a text to Renee.

I found a boyfriend

So I can’t come to dinner on sunday? :D

Putting his phone away to avoid responding to that, Andrew walked the rest of the way to the gym. Kevin was warming up on the treadmills, giving Andrew plenty of time to stretch out by himself. His thoughts were consumed by the fake-relationship, some anxiousness for the upcoming Sunday, and whether or not his family would believe their story. Shit, what if they didn’t? What if they called Neil out on a lie like Andrew had been able to last night - although, that lie had been pretty obvious, like Neil wanted him to figure it out.

Kevin was approaching, wiping off his forehead with a sweat towel and stopping to take a quick drink of water. “I have a boyfriend,” Andrew found himself saying, watching Kevin’s reaction.

But all he did was furrow his eyebrows and drink some more water. “What happened to…the other one?”

“Divorce.”

“Okay. Congrats?” Kevin walked to the barbell. “Snatches today.”

“Absolutely not,” Andrew shot down. Well, he supposed he shouldn’t have expected anything more from Kevin. At least it was nice enough that he didn’t care, causing some of the anxiousness in Andrew’s body to fade away at how easily Kevin had accepted what he said. If only his family could do the same.

Despite hating every second of it, Andrew went through Kevin’s snatches workout, deciding he really deserved a Flour Pot muffin for how sore he’d be later. It was cloudier when he left the gym, walking down the familiar route to reach the bakery right on time. When Andrew walked through the doors to Flour Pot, Neil was waiting behind the counter. His arms were crossed, but he smiled that small smile when Andrew walked in, the bell at the door jingling to announce his arrival.

“Good, you’re here,” Neil said, turning around as Andrew walked up to the counter. When he reached it, Neil turned back around with a wooden display platter that had slices of bread aligned neatly in three rows. They smelled like…

“Garlic bread,” Andrew guessed.

“This is how you make it.” Neil put the platter down, then picked up a bread knife and cut a single slice in half, holding it out. Andrew took it, not sure how he got to the point where he was eating garlic bread at seven in the morning, but didn’t complain. Like Neil said, it was delicious.

“It’s good,” Andrew said, eating the rest of the slice he’d been given.

Neil looked pleased. He knelt down, coming back with a larger brown bag, and started loading the garlic bread into it. Then, he went to get Andrew’s regular muffin, putting it in the little bag with the window and logo at the top. “We can have it tonight,” he said, pressing buttons on his register. “Make something good.”

It took a lot in Andrew to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “Any suggestions?”

“Get creative,” Neil suggested, putting his hand on top of the receipt machine. “The bread is on me today. I made the appetizer, you make the main course.”

Every night, Andrew remembered as he pulled out his wallet. If it was anyone else, he was sure he would’ve genuinely hated it. “I might make something you hate if you don’t tell me what you like.”

“Hm.” The card reader beeped, but they both ignored it. Neil wouldn’t stop looking at him. “My favorite is lemon garlic pasta,” Neil said. “But I don’t want that tonight. Too easy.”

Neil Josten was a menace, and Andrew had yet to figure out if getting closer was a mistake. He’d figure it out later. “Fine,” he replied, taking his card back and stuffing it back into his wallet to break the eye contact.

“See you tonight,” Neil said, pushing the bags forward.

Andrew did his usual salute, which was harder with the added bag the garlic bread was in. He tried to think of a non-pasta recipe he could make for dinner that night to go with the garlic bread as he walked back home, a content feeling filling him as he went. The clouds were just starting to break up, allowing the sun to warm up the air.