Hi! Thank you for sending me a prompt. I apologize that it took…3 months…to answer this….life has been crazy and I’ve been a lazy bitch who hasn’t been writing a lot. 

This fic is basically a sequel to this high school AU, but it can be read as a stand-alone as well. It’s a bit rushed because I just remembered this ask last night, but I hope you like it! And I guess I made it just in time-ish for @andreilweek – I saw the prompt ‘felony’ and decided that it can be used with the prompt that you sent me, which is “Didn’t you hear? You’re dead,” based on this list. Thanks again ❤

CW: Bullying, implied homophobia, references to child abuse

****

The thing about Andrew is that he is always watching.

“They’re not going to make it,” Neil predicts around a mouthful of popcorn, and true enough, the protagonist and his band of merry men indeed do not make it through the portal that would bring them to their home planet. While the characters on the television screen cuss and wallow at the face of adversity, Neil turns to Andrew. “These things are too predictable. Unrealistic too.”

Andrew hums in unspoken agreement, lightly kicking Neil’s foot so that he would return his attention back to the screen.

Andrew watches Neil as Neil watches the movie.

He doesn’t know how they went from having sparring and knife lessons to lying around in Andrew’s living room, but he doesn’t think it’s – bad. Not at all.

They usually meet up after school at the community gym in Andrew’s neighborhood, on days that Neil doesn’t have Math club activities. Neil teaches him how to handle a knife, and he teaches Neil how to hold his ground in a fistfight.

Neil was prickly and reluctant at first; Andrew had expected him to renege his part of the deal after a couple of sessions. His predictions never came true though, the hypotheses he spun crumbling away without any proof to support them. Neil has upheld his part of the bargain, and Andrew has upheld his.

Clipped retorts and heavy silence pervaded their meetings in the beginning. Then Andrew had asked, “Where did you learn how to use knives?” 

Neil’s entire frame had coiled with tension, snappable as a taut wire, and he had snarled, “It’s none of your business.”

Then he had turned away and quietly said, “My father.” He had looked at Andrew again and asked, “Why did they put you on medication?” 

Andrew’s mind had gone through a series of scenarios of how it could all play out depending on his answer. Surely Neil had learned the reason from the gossip mills at school: he had beaten four kids half to death in middle school, he’s violent, he’s crazy, he’s psychotic.

Then he had looked at Neil and said, “They misdiagnosed me, and they thought it could be a way to put a leash on me.”

It all came cascading down from there; a question for a question, a truth for a truth, a vulnerability for a vulnerability.

They are two kids who have grown too old, too fast.

Nowadays, after their training sessions, Neil follows him home. He queues up his favorite shows for Neil to watch and Neil queues up a string of biting commentary that is more entertaining than anything Andrew has on his Netflix account. Neil’s knowledge on popular culture isn’t limited like Andrew initially thought it was, but it is obscure and random, and Andrew learns as many new things as Neil does.  

They both startle when they hear the sound of jingling keys from the front door.

“Boys?” Nicky’s voice rings out as Andrew hits pause. “Are you home? I brought back some waffles from work.”

His cousin is home early today – he must’ve had a different shift. It shouldn’t send a stab of annoyance through Andrew, but it does; the disruption to his and Neil’s private time is not something he expected to deal with today.

Nicky bypasses the living room for the kitchen, the snick and thump of the refrigerator door opening and closing preceding his approaching footsteps.

“Andrew, why didn’t you answer when I – oh!” Nicky’s face changes from exasperation to absolute delight when he sees that Andrew isn’t alone on the couch. “Neil, I didn’t know you were here! How about some waffles? Have you had anything to drink?”

“I’m alright, thank you,” Neil says, shrinking into the couch, eyes on the carpet. He had pulled his hoodie up as soon as the locks to the front door had turned. This is his second time meeting Nicky, and it’s clear that he isn’t entirely comfortable in his presence just yet.

Instead of being pushy like Andrew predicted, Nicky’s garish grin softens. “Okay,” he says, almost gently, “let me know if you change your mind and want anything, alright? Feel free to stay for as long as you want.”

Andrew stares at him with his habitual look of indifference, but Nicky somehow catches on to the question in his eyes because he shrugs and says, “I took Mel’s shift today, so I finished early. Make sure you eat the waffles before we leave for Eden’s tonight, okay? And leave some for Aaron.”

Andrew gives a small nod, because he’s not a complete asshole who ignores his legal guardian all the time. Flashing Andrew a smile and an unsubtle nudge of his chin towards Neil, Nicky goes to his room.

His first meeting with Neil only occurred because Andrew had gotten his timing wrong – Nicky had just pulled out of the driveway in his mom’s old hatchback when Andrew rounded the corner into their street with Neil in the passenger seat. Nicky had skidded to a stop beside the car, window pulled down, and shouted, “Hi, there! Are you a friend of Andrew’s?”

He supposes that he can’t keep them from meeting for eternity, not if he plans on bringing Neil around so often.

Neil’s striking appearance alone hadn’t been enough of an incentive for Andrew to approach him, but his skills with a knife, his sharp tongue, the knowing glint in his eyes – they had lured Andrew in, and they provided the incentive he needed to start up an acquaintance, to prolong it. He would have been fine with watching from afar, with observing and collecting data, but he is bored, and Neil is interesting.

It’s a dangerous game he’s playing, he knows. He’s opening up parts of himself that he’s kept sealed shut for years and letting Neil see them. The fact that Neil is doing the same makes it even more dangerous, even more electrifying.

They are both still kids, in the end.

“Nicky seems…nice,” Neil mumbles, twisting the string of his hoodie around a finger.

“But you were nervous in his presence,” Andrew points out.

“I just thought that he would be mad, that you’re having me over.” Neil gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Before you, I had never been to a friend’s house, so I didn’t know what to expect, if a parent came home or something.”

Before you, he says, so honestly and easily. A friend, he says, so shyly and sweetly.

Andrew keeps his face still. He lightly kicks Neil’s foot again and resumes the movie, ignoring the way Neil’s lips curl into a faint smile and the way his palms are starting to feel sweaty. When Neil’s attention is back on the screen, Andrew swings his gaze back to Neil’s face.

The thing about Andrew is that he can’t stop watching, but he figures that if nobody else notices, it would not be a problem.

*

“I’ve noticed the way you keep looking at him,” Aaron tells him across the breakfast counter a week later.

So, it might be a problem.

Andrew continues scooping cereal into his mouth as if Aaron hadn’t spoken to him.

“People talk about it, you know. They say that you’re -” Aaron’s face screws into a tight grimace.

“That I am what?” Andrew prompts, a challenge in his calm voice.

Aaron glares at him, as if Andrew has ever been affected by it.

“That you’re gay,” Aaron spits out.

It’s not like Andrew has been keeping it a secret.

“And?”

His twin recoils. It truly is strange, to see a facsimile of himself undergo so many outward reactions and emotions. “So it’s true, then?”

“Shocked to be the token straight in the family?”

Aaron grits his teeth, annoyance written all over his face. “That’s not the point. I’m just trying to understand why you’re suddenly letting someone get all chummy with you, least of all someone like Josten.”

Andrew’s grip on his spoon tightens, but Aaron isn’t finished.

“The kid is suspicious as fuck, not to mention the scars on his -”

Andrew slams the metal spoon against the counter, the dissonant clang effectively shutting Aaron up. The dark look he sends Aaron’s way should be enough to swallow his brother whole; the source of his anger, boiling under his skin and threatening to ooze through his pores – it certainly feels like it could eat him from the inside out.

“I have never said anything about your tasteless choice in girls. I suggest you keep your mouth shut before I make you regret it.”

Aaron blinks, like he’s surprised by Andrew’s reaction. Andrew himself is a little taken aback by his measured outburst.

With a shake of his head, Aaron makes a cutting gesture and leaves the kitchen. “Fine. Do whatever you want.”

Nicky emerges next, yawning as he rubs his bleary eyes. “What happened? I heard you guys arguing.”

Andrew stares into his cereal bowl, corralling his emotions and locking them away.

Nicky sighs when he realizes that he won’t get an answer. “Just don’t go to school first and leave him behind like you did last time, okay?”

Which is exactly what Andrew does, of course.

He finds Neil frowning into his locker as other students bustle down the hallway. He leans against the locker next to Neil’s, completely forgoing his own. Neil glances at him, but the frown doesn’t disappear.

“Those assholes,” he mutters.

Andrew peers into the locker to inspect what damage has been done to Neil’s belongings today. A grainy photo of him is put up among a few candles and some chrysanthemums to resemble a shrine for the deceased; they must have broken into his locker to set it up. As unimaginative as always.

Neil snuffs out the candles with a few blows before grabbing a textbook and banging his locker shut.

“Rest in peace,” Andrew says blandly.

“I’m dead inside anyway,” Neil says wryly, turning towards the direction of his class, “so I guess this is just swell.”

Andrew grips his elbow to stop him from walking, swivelling him back around until that they’re standing toe to toe. He takes inventory, eyes raking all over Neil’s body and face. When he finds no injury, he lets go, ignoring the puzzled look Neil gives him.   

He walks him to his classroom and goes to his own, slumping down on his sequestered seat at the back. 

The small group of football jocks that have been targeting Neil since early in the year are a nuisance more than anything. Their tactics are predictable, and they haven’t tried to lay a finger on Neil ever since Neil slashed their leader’s hand and punched his face in while Andrew knocked out a few of his friends. Andrew has also planted the seeds to one of their school’s hottest gossips: Neil Josten is under Andrew Minyard’s protection, and Andrew Minyard is a monster, so you better think twice before you touch what’s his.

As long as they stick to their childish bullying, Andrew won’t have to keep them in line. 

It is, however, getting insurmountably annoying. 

Two weeks ago, they stole Neil’s textbooks and dumped them in the pond at the back of the school. A month ago, they spray-painted the gym wall with Neil’s name and a few misspelled slurs. Two months ago, they trashed the Math club’s activity room and pissed all over the geometric equipment.

He thinks it’s high time someone teaches them a lesson.

During lunch, he goes up to the roof to find Neil already waiting for him. They’re the only two people at school who ever climb up here, since they’re the only two people at school who know how to pick locks. Neil passes him the peanut butter and jelly sandwich his uncle made and Andrew passes him the fruit salad Nicky packed, and they eat in silence until Neil starts talking about the bake sale his club is organizing at the end of the week.

“Andrew? Are you listening?”

Andrew glances to the left, then to the right, expression unchanged. “I hear something.”

A frown takes over Neil’s face. “Me. I’m speaking. You’re hearing me.”

Andrew meets his gaze. “Didn’t you hear? You’re dead. And the dead cannot speak.”

“Hilarious,” Neil deadpans. He stabs a piece of mango with his fork and chews on it, the lines on his face indicating that he’s deep in thought. Andrew studies each one, itches to reach out and run his fingers over them.

“You know,” Neil says slowly, “the school year is almost ending.”

“I am aware,” Andrew replies, focused on the way Neil’s plush lips are glistening with fruit juice.  

“Jefferson is graduating,” Neil continues, toying with his fork, the metal glinting in the sunlight as it rolls over supple fingers. “And we haven’t given him a goodbye present yet.”

His eyes dart up to meet Andrew’s, a dangerous gleam in them, and Andrew cottons on to what he is saying.

“That cannot do,” he tells Neil.

“No,” Neil concurs, “it can’t.”

“Not when he has been so generous with you these past few months.”

“Oh, yes. My chemistry textbook is still moist from its trip to the pond.”

Andrew feels the prickle of excitement at the base of his spine. He hasn’t felt it in years. “I suppose we have to return the favor.”

Neil smiles, sharp as the penknife he always carries in his pocket. “Yes,” he agrees, “I suppose we do.”

*

They frame him for inappropriate use of performance-enhancing drugs.

Andrew gets the supply from one of the servers who works at Eden’s Twilight with him, and Neil plants the evidence, slipping in and out of the football locker room like an elegant fox.

It’s easy, and it’s worth it.

He gets into a ton of trouble for it, but not enough to jeopardize his entire future in football. 

A shame, really.

But Andrew lets it go, because Neil seems pleased enough by the whole shitstorm, smiling to himself after they hear that a few schools have withdrawn their athletic scholarship offers.  

On the last day of school, they decide to steal his friend’s car.

Davis drives a BMW 4-series Gran Coupe and parks it in his driveway. Andrew breaks into the car, and Neil hotwires it.

As they blow through the neighborhood, Neil laughs, the sound as tantalizing as the first time Andrew heard it. 

They leave the car in a playground on the other side of the city; the plan was never to keep it, only to fuck around with Davis.

Neil calls a cab to take them back to Andrew’s place because his uncle is a rich businessman who gives him a generous allowance – even though his drab wardrobe suggests otherwise. In the backseat of the cab, Andrew observes the way the city lights dance around Neil’s face in a kaleidoscope of neon colors.

They try to move soundlessly as they enter the house. Aaron and Nicky should be back from Eden’s Twilight by now, and while they’re deep sleepers, Andrew doesn’t want to risk waking them up and having them pry into his business.

They’re at the top of the stairs when Aaron’s door swings open. He notices them when he crosses the hall to the bathroom, his body going stiff. His face, after the initial surprise disappears, morphs into a scowl.

“So you skipped work to hang out with your boyfriend?”

Before Andrew can tug Neil into his room and ignore his brother like he usually does, Neil shoots back with, “What’s it to you, asshole?”

Anger flares up in Aaron’s eyes, hot and quick, his curled fists shaking. Jaw clenched, he bites out, “It’s nothing to me.”

He returns to his room, slamming the door shut.

Neil sighs, all sense of antagonism leaving him. “I don’t get your brother.”

Andrew doesn’t either, but that is not an issue he needs to deal with tonight. His fingers circle around Neil’s thin wrist as he leads them to his room.

He flicks the light on while Neil flops onto his bed, shirt riding up to expose a strip of his flat stomach. Andrew forces himself to look away, taking off his shoes and carefully lowering himself next to Neil.

Neil looks up at him, a small smile playing over his lips. “I had fun.”

“I did, too,” Andrew says, allowing himself to admit as much. He finds that he wants to tell Neil these things, to share them with him.

“I’m glad you did.” Neil curls up on his side, pillowing an arm under his head. He looks soft, body relaxed over Andrew’s bedsheets.

Andrew’s hand twitches, and he feels like he is about to do something very, very stupid. He abruptly stands, goes over to his drawers, snatches a change of clothes, and hurls them at Neil.

“Go,” he orders, pointing to the door.

Neil obeys, going out to the bathroom, his lips still curled around a smile. Andrew avoids meeting his eyes for a while, so it isn’t until he himself returns from his trip to the bathroom that he notices that Neil has removed his contact lenses.

It’s the second time Andrew’s seen his real eye color, a chilling blue that stands stark against the amber of his hair. He sits cross-legged on the bed, his phone in his hands.

“Your uncle?” Andrew asks.

Neil nods. “I texted him to let him know that I’ll be spending the night here.”

Andrew doesn’t ask anything further, but Neil explains, “He won’t mind. He’s actually glad that I’m out socializing.” With a shrug, Neil drops his phone onto the mattress. “He can be so weird about it sometimes.”

Aside from the fact that Neil’s parents are both dead and that his uncle is now his legal guardian, Andrew doesn’t know much else about Neil’s family life. The rumor which states that Neil is the son of a crime lord is debunked when Andrew asked him about it and he said that his father was less of a gangster and more of a deranged man who had an unhealthy obsession with knives; hence, the scars on the right side of his face. He left the circumstances of his parents’ deaths vague, but Andrew doesn’t need to know much else; he is satisfied just from knowing that Neil’s uncle doesn’t mistreat him.  

After all, Neil didn’t press him about the details surrounding the death of Aaron’s mother; he had simply stared at Andrew with calm understanding and moved on.

Right now, he’s staring at Andrew with droopy eyes and a content smile. He’s dressed in Andrew’s clothes and perched on Andrew’s bed – and really, nothing could be worse than this. 

He scrounges his closet for a spare futon and blanket, throwing them on the floor.

“Sleep,” he says, and Neil nods, sliding off his bed with a yawn.

After switching off the light, Andrew crawls under the covers and lies on his side, back against the wall and face turned towards where Neil is. His eyes adjust to the dark, and he makes out the outline of Neil’s sleeping face with the help of the street light filtering in from the window.

The thing about Andrew is that he doesn’t want to stop watching, and he thinks that it’s definitely become a problem.    

****

Buy me a coffee

ETA: Here is part 3!