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Neil’s publicist made a note of almost never letting Neil do interviews. Everyone thought it was because he was a private person and he liked to keep to himself -- especially after the media surface following the death of his father. However, the real reason was that Neil Josten was just about the worst person to interview. If one thing set him off, it usually meant some snarky speech that would be clipped and repeated for the rest of time. Sure, all publicity is good publicity, but Neil didn’t want to stress his publicist out more than he should. So, he avoided interviews. However, when it is announced in the off-season that he’ll be making the transfer from the Boston Badgers to the Seattle Seahawks, he has no choice.
The main reason was because the person conducting the interview would be a member of the Seattle Seahawks. Apparently it was a theme for the news outlet Neil never bothered to learn the name of to have the transferred player be interviewed by a current player. With their famous rivalry, it seemed only fitting they would choose Andrew Minyard to interview Neil. This allowed Neil to look forward to the interview for two reasons: One, he absolutely loved to screw with the press. Two, it was the first time he would be seeing his husband in four months.
One of Neil’s favorite habits was sending articles about one of the most famous sports rivalries in the modern-day to his husband while laughing at how ridiculous it all was. They were famous for trading insults in various languages (Their most recent was Bulgarian. It used to be German, but Nicky complained about not needing to know that much about his cousin’s sex life) and overall asshole attitudes whenever they were brought up to one another.
Andrew’s most famous line was, “I really don’t care if Josten lives or dies as long as he shuts the fuck up about Exy.”
Whereas Neil’s was, “If Andrew cared about blocking his goal as much as he cared about his cats, he would be a wildly different player.”
No one suspected a thing. They never hid their marriage on purpose , they just didn’t really give a shit about sharing it. All of the foxes from Neil’s freshman year knew and that was all that mattered to them -- well, mattered to Neil. Andrew didn’t really care as long as it meant he could get into the hospital room whenever Neil inevitably injures himself in a game (which is incredibly often).
“If you fuck this up, Josten, I’m dropping you,” his publicist commended as she watched him get mic’d up for the interview. Across the studio, Andrew was getting the same treatment. Neil smiled at him to which Andrew offered a mock salute. His publicist noticed this, saying, “I’m serious. I don’t trust you with him.”
“You shouldn’t,” Neil scoffed, but a smile was the undertone to his words as the woman glared at him. She loved him, really. The person setting him up stepped back and motioned to the person running the shoot. With a nod from the interviewer, they took their marks on either side of the frame where they were supposed to walk in and take a seat on two wooden stools while the introduction played.
“All right, three… two… one, and enter,” the interviewer instructed them and they followed suit. Once they were seated, she continued, “Why don’t you guys start by introducing yourselves?”
“I’m Neil Josten,” he introduced himself, motioning to Andrew, “And this is a goth kid that I found wandering outside of Hot Topic.”
“Minyard, guess which one,” Andrew introduced, glaring at Neil who was still snickering to himself. “I’m here to interrogate --”
“ Interview,” Neil corrected.
“The newest starting striker for the Seattle Seahawks,” the blond finished, unbothered by Neil’s interruption. He had a stack of notecards in his hands and he began to shuffle them as he looked dead into the camera, saying, “Seahawks fans, get ready for the worst season yet. Don’t put any money down on us this season unless you feel like going broke.”
Neil snorted at this, resisting the urge to smack Andrew gently on the arm the way they would when Andrew made such remarks at home. “Just ask the questions, Aaron.”
Andrew sneered at this as his eyes drifted down to the first card, “Why’d you transfer? Oh, I can answer this, it’s because Neil lives to make my life a living Hell, next question.”
“ Because I love Seattle, as much as I’ll miss the Badgers, Seattle is much closer to home for me,” the auburn-haired man answered, not phased by any of Andrew’s remarks. “Ask me something good this time.”
“You’ll get what you get,” the man sighed as he picked through the cards, throwing one to the side, “Which of the Foxes do you still talk to, if any?”
“All of them,” Neil didn’t hesitate, “Even this sorry sack of shit sitting next to me. I also like to call Aaron in the middle of the night with weird medical questions because why the hell not. The Foxes will always be my family.”
Andrew grimaced at this, but Neil knew he didn’t mean it. “Ew. Anyway, next question. What are you most looking forward to with the oncoming season?”
“Oh, that’s tough,” Neil struggled, not wanting to give too much away about his home life, “probably annoying the shit out of Andrew. Yeah, that’s my favorite thing to do.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” Andrew scoffed as he continued to sort through the cards, “Oh, ladies, pay attention. Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Nope,” he answered with a smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Andrew watching him. Neither of them were really paying attention to the cameras or the other people in the room. All they ever really cared about was each other. With a shit-eating grin, he pulled the wedding ring he kept on a chain around his neck out from under his t-shirt and added, “I am married, though.”
He could see the look of horror flashing on his publicist’s eyes -- especially considering even she didn’t know the truth.
Andrew nodded at this, pulling out his own chain and saying, “Oh, sick, me too. All right, next question…”
The days following the interview were some of the most hectic Neil had faced in a while. Most notably was him flipping off paparazzi as he and Andrew were moving boxes into their now-shared apartment in Seattle. Neil really didn’t care who knew, he was just happy to be under the same roof as his husband. Not to mention he had really missed the cats. His favorite paparazzi moment was when they caught Andrew helping Neil grab a box since he had grabbed one too many before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“I think you’re obsessed with that picture,” Andrew muttered as he noticed Neil looking at the hundredth tweet about it.
Neil just shrugged, “This is the closest thing I have to a coupley picture of us except for the one hanging back at the Foxhole Court that Nicky took. Imma make it my wallpaper.”
“I hate you,” was all Andrew said as he ruffled Neil’s hair with an affectionate touch before kissing his forehead and taking his place on the opposite side of the couch. Once Andrew sat down, so did the cats. Sir took his place around Andrew’s shoulders as the man cracked open his book while King settled in between the nook of Neil’s folded legs.
They were together again and they were out, which was something Neil never thought was going to happen. He watched as Andrew became engulfed in his book like he always did, his eyes admiring every edge and crease of the blond’s aging features. Their early-thirties were kind to them, even if Neil’s scarring was bound to age horribly. He didn’t care, he was just happy he lived long enough to see himself age.
“Staring,” Andrew muttered after a moment.
Neil just smiled, “Yeah, yeah, I am.”