why you slay me like this
neil had learned that it was okay to want. he had learned that he could survive based solely on need, but to live for something was to want.
neil wanted exy. he wanted the foxes. he wanted a home. he wanted andrew. it was four things more than his mother taught him to live with, and four things that were dangerous. it was dangerous to live in a sport that the moriyamas dominated. it was dangerous to have a family. it was dangerous to be comfortable somewhere. and most of all, it was dangerous to love.
those were, of course, the large wants. at first, neil only knew the large wants; he didn’t quite understand that you didn’t always have to put your heart on the line.
neil was doodling in his notebook’s margins haphazardly, varying from paw prints to cartoon images of the foxes.
andrew was sitting next to him and neil was prepared for the other man to scold him for not looking at his notes when andrew opened his mouth, but got instead, “why don’t you get a sketch book or something?”
he hadn’t considered pursuing something that was, formerly, a waste of time. he had time now, time to sit in the afternoons and sketch.
neil said nothing and continued his sketching. regardless of neil’s reaction to andrew’s comment, andrew threw a new sketchbook on to neil’s lap the next day.
neil liked the slight rebellious thrill that went through his veins every time he picked up the sketch book. this was still forbidden. this was taking the time to participate in something that had nothing to do with running. every time he did something like this, it felt like rooting himself a little farther into the ground.
one afternoon, andrew laid neil back on the carpet and followed him down to meet their lips. neil had, only moments before, been sketching with the first available utensil–a sharpie. It made so he had a piece of paper between the sheet he worked on and the next page to avoid bleeding.
now the sharpie sat awkwardly between fingers as his hands carded themselves in andrew’s hair.
neil’s hands eventually made their way down andrew’s torso until they tugged on the ends of andrew’s shirt in silent question. andrew’s hands broke from neil’s body to comply to the request and neil took the new skin in with searching fingers.
andrew made an annoyed sound and broke their kiss. “are you ever going to drop that marker? or is it that you plan to do something with it?”
neil hadn’t considered it before, but neither had he considered dropping it. andrew’s last sentence, however, had his mind set upon something else.
“mmm. maybe i do,” neil replied before leaning in to andrew’s neck, pressing a kiss that andrew both leaned into and pulled away from. “but we have to go to the bed for it. more comfortable,” neil finished.
andrew considered it a moment before deciding it was at least worth it to see what neil had in mind.
andrew stood by the foot of the bed waiting for neil to tell him what to do, which was enough to assure neil that this was a good idea, as andrew rarely gave in to other people’s askance.
“lay down, either side,” neil said as he uncapped the marker. andrew laid on his back, likely so he could see what neil would do.
neil was slow in his movements, putting his legs on either side of andrew’s. he let an arm lean on the bed beside andrew’s head as he leaned in for a kiss. neil kept it rather short before moving to press his lips to the hollow that was created by andrew’s collarbones. when andrew sighed deeply, neil lifted and replaced his lips with the marker’s tip and wrote kiss here.
andrew raised an eyebrow in question, but did not stop neil. neil still answered andrew’s wonder. “i told you once i was willing to draw a map.”
“fucking junkie.”
this caused neil’s marker to stray to andrew’s heart, where he wrote warning: contents addictive. he let the ink dry a moment before pressing a kiss to the writing and pausing there. when he lifted andrew was staring down at him, not mad but making his face like he was.
neil continued on his mission, putting a if offguard, here on andrew’s neck, a here is encouraged across the right side of andrew’s ribs, here, not so much just beneath them because it was ticklish spot that andrew refused to admit to.
when neil was content with his work, after andrew had flipped onto his stomach and neil went to work there as well, they texted kevin that he could come back to the dorm and spent the rest of the night playing video games.
the next day was practice, which meant getting up at what kevin considered to be an ungodly hour to get to the court on time.
nicky and allison stipulated why andrew didn’t change out with the rest of them and instead went to the stalls. why he didn’t come out with just underclothes, but full gear, neck guard included. they landed on neil putting an undignified amount of hickey’s on andrew’s person.
neil’s only reaction to andrew’s move was a slight grin, which only fueled nicky and allison’s now bet.
andrew was careful though, so all practice nicky and allison did not get their answer.
afterwards, wymack called them to sit down for a team meeting. andrew sat in his normal spot between neil and kevin, closer to neil than kevin.
at one point andrew held out a hand and neil put a phone in it. this was andrew’s mistake, in thinking that nicky was not still watching him.
nicky broke the conversations in the room by saying, “what’s on your hand, andrew?”
neil watched andrew clutch the phone a little harder as he said, “a phone.”
“on, not in,” nicky quipped.
andrew ignored the comment, choosing to wait for wymack to start the meeting. nicky let it go, favoring too to wait, until andrew was once again not expecting it.
the answer to the bet was answered, however, not in what laid on andrew’s hand, but in andrew tying his shoes.
andrew stopped outside the door to the lounge, bending over to tie his shoe. allison had stopped to investigate, to see if she could see the palm of andrew’s hand, but found something more interesting.
she saw instead the small of andrew’s back where his turtle neck had ridden up. neil had placed another here is encouraged between the dimples of andrew’s back.
when andrew finished tying his shoe, he prepared to stare allison into leaving. he found that she was already taking an exasperated breath and turning around, causing andrew to look to neil for answer.
“your back,” neil supplied. after all, there wasn’t much neil could have done aside from blatantly pulling andrew’s shirt down, which would have drawn more attention.
andrew hadn’t wanted the foxes to know what was written across his skin, but there was no taking back what was seen. he instead matched his palm with neil’s where his said hold here and intertwined their fingers.