Andreil One Shots
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“I keep my promises,” Andrew said, “if you kept yours, we wouldn’t be having this little problem.”
For a moment, the coach was silent and Neil thought that Andrew might let go.
Then, “h-he said he was fine to play.”
Andrew barked out an incredulous laugh, “and you believed him?”
The coach gaped as Andrew’s hand tightened in his shirt. Neil could hear Andrew’s sick smile in the tone of his voice, reminding him too much of the time Andrew had spent on anti-psychotics, of Andrew’s thin laughter and his manic grin, “then you’re an even bigger idiot than he is,” he said.
Series
- Part 1 of Andreil One Shots
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Neil was fully aware that he was now the closest thing Andrew had to family, to what Cass might have been for him if things had turned out differently. He also knew that Andrew would never admit to that fact, could barely allow himself to acknowledge that Neil was a permanent fixture in his life, that he wasn’t a pipe dream, that he had no intention of leaving, that he was done running.
It scared Neil too, probably just as much as it scared Andrew. Neil had expected to be dead by last May, but he was here. He was broken and scarred and burned, but he was here; he was alive and he had Andrew: his trust, his kisses, his promises. The least he could do was be here, this immovable force in Andrew’s life, be the same thing that he was to Neil.
Series
- Part 2 of Andreil One Shots
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"What did he say, Andrew?” Neil asked, his voice a whisper into the silence surrounding them. “Was it about me?”
“Always the narcissist, Josten.” A hint of amusement in Andrew’s low voice.
Neil caught himself, almost shaking his head, but scared that any sudden movement might cause Andrew to leave and all Neil wanted was to keep him close, to keep his fingers touching, so he elected not to move a muscle. “You know what I mean, asshole.” Neil said, but his voice had no edge to it.
Andrew studied Neil’s face, his eyes dancing from scar to freckle to lips to bright blue eyes. “It doesn’t fucking matter. He won’t say it again.”
Series
- Part 3 of Andreil One Shots
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“I told you always,” Neil said, blinking a few times in rapid succession, his words coming slow in an obvious attempt not to tangle them.
“And I told you to stop it,” Andrew replied sharply.
“I won’t,” Neil said, with a shrug of one shoulder, wincing still. “I’m stupid, remember?”
“Doubtlessly so,” Andrew quipped.
Neil let his head fall to the pillow, turning it so that he was looking at Andrew. His blue eyes flicked about the other man’s face, either studying him, or trying to read his expression, Andrew couldn’t tell. All he knew was that Neil’s gaze burned, felt like a flame licking too close to his skin, dangerous and unyielding.
Series
- Part 4 of Andreil One Shots
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Andrew fixed him with an impatient glare, “I hate you.”
“I know,” Neil said, sounding almost breathless. “You tell me so often it's starting to sound like a compliment.”
“Want to test it?” Andrew queried, tightening his grip on Neil’s chin. “I’ll gladly push you off if you’re not careful. Don’t tempt me, Josten.”
“I’ll drag you down with me. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it. You don’t scare me, Andrew.” Neil said, fighting off a shiver as the heat of Andrew’s breath brushed against his neck.
“Junkie,” He said again, the word sounded like a curse.
Series
- Part 5 of Andreil One Shots
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This was all he ever wanted. To be standing here, to be playing Exy, to have Andrew at his back, Kevin at his side. It had almost killed him to be here, to have accomplished this much, but Neil wanted more.
He wanted to win tonight, wanted it so badly he could taste it.
No matter how they did tonight, Neil would end up on a podium and would feel the weight of a medal around his neck, silver or gold. But now that he was here, now that the seconds were counting down, now that Kevin had tied a game they’d been trailing for most of the second half, Neil craved for gold. He needed it like he needed air, like he needed Exy.
Series
- Part 6 of Andreil One Shots