23: Through a song + 24: Without really meaning it
Thank you for the prompt! This… is probably not what you wanted, but I couldn’t figure out other ways to make it work aside from this, and then I got carried away and incorporated this amazing au by @requiemofkings – thank you for letting me write a fic based on your au!! – and so here we are. I hope you enjoy ❤
CW: implied self-harm/suicide attempt, references to child trafficking, implied/mentions of violence
****
The strobe lights paint the night club in a throbbing mass of purple and blue, the dancing bodies pulsing in and out of the darkness with each flash of light. Techno music pounds in Andrew’s ears like a mallet as he shoulders his way across the dance floor towards the bar, sleek dark wood that curves along two adjacent walls, stocked from floor to ceiling with alcohol.
Even with his athletic build, Kevin struggles to keep up with Andrew’s exodus from the crowd. The air-conditioning does very little to stop beads of perspiration from forming along Andrew’s hairline. Trapped in a mass of dancing humans and suffocated by body heat, he is reminded of why he has stopped visiting these types of establishments. The long hours and unending pile of cases courtesy of his job only made the decision easier.
When they’re finally freed from the masses, they keep to the outskirts of the dancefloor and walk along the bar. Andrew flags down one of the bartenders, a petite woman with light brown hair, bright red lipstick, a mini black dress, and a placid expression.
“What can I get you?”
Before Kevin can open his mouth, Andrew says, “A ginger highball.”
“Got it.”
As the woman prepares the drink, Kevin hisses, “What are you doing?”
“Ordering a drink,” Andrew answers in a bored tone, leaning against the bar.
“We’re on duty!”
Andrew flicks his fingers up at Kevin as if to say so?
Kevin puffs out his chest, a sign that he is about to unleash a winded lecture on Andrew’s work ethics. Andrew cleaves this chance off with a calm, “Is that him?”
Kevin’s mouth clicks shut as he looks to where Andrew’s eyes are focused on: a stoop-shouldered man clad in all black, standing at the other end of the bar with a broody expression on his face. He looks like the grim reaper if the grim reaper was a lanky man with pale skin, jet-black hair, and knobbly hands that can whip up drinks at an efficient speed.
“No, that’s not him,” Kevin says, unexpectedly solemn. Andrew lifts an eyebrow at the hard line of Kevin’s lips. There’s a story there somewhere, but Andrew won’t make it easy for him by asking what it is.
The drink arrives as Andrew scans the club. It’s a snazzy two-storey establishment with tasteful decor and tight security; the bouncers at the entrance only let them in because Kevin had muttered a Japanese phrase, some sort of code that let them know that Kevin was on the inside. Until three days ago, Andrew didn’t even know that Kevin was on the inside. In a drunken stupor, Kevin had proposed they go to La Tanière to break through the dead-end in their most recent case.
“I know somebody there. He could – he could help us out,” he had slurred, slumped against the toilet bowl in Andrew’s bathroom.
Andrew had been mildly skeptical and mostly incensed, the former due to a couple of incidents where they had been misled by anonymous tip-offs and the latter due to the revelation that Kevin is still in contact with Moriyama people. He shouldn’t really care; their deal ended a while ago and he isn’t responsible for Kevin’s safety anymore.
At least, that’s how it’s supposed to be.
But Andrew had acknowledged that they were running in circles, stuck inside a quagmire of a maze, and they had brought the idea to Wymack, the captain of their precinct. His face had hardened, so much so that Andrew had pondered over the possibility of it being stuck that way, but in the end, he had granted them permission to go on with the plan.
With his gaze flitting over the faces on the dancefloor, Kevin says, “It shouldn’t be too hard to find him, since he’s -”
The music cuts off and a high-pitched squeal erupts from the microphone in the middle of the stage. Instinctively, all eyes travel to the stage on the opposite side of the club, Andrew’s included. A dark-haired woman in a long black dress has the mic, smiling broadly as the dancing ceases. Her voice, when she speaks, is low and calm like an untouched pond.
“Esteemed guests, I present you to tonight’s scheduled performance.”
With that brief introduction, the overhead lights dim. There’s a ripple of murmur, the sound loud without the music to drown them out. Andrew is taking a slow sip of his drink when a spotlight beams onto a figure at the center of the stage, their top hat obscuring their face. With a gloved finger to their smiling lips, curled like a secret, they tip their head up, the scars on their cheeks made stark by the glaring spotlight. A hands-free microphone curves over their defined jaw.
“That’s him,” Kevin says, but Andrew barely hears him.
****
Tag: self-reblob
Written as a pinch hit for @idnis as part of the @aftgexchange based on the prompt “You’re the cute nerd that keeps getting pushed around but you just punched your bully and I gotta save you.” I hope you like this high school AU I came up with! Happy belated Valentine’s Day, and have a great rest of your February 🙂
CWs: some use of ableist language, violence
****
The thing about Andrew is that he is always watching. Charles Darwin dubbed himself a machine that observed facts and ground out conclusions. Andrew is very much the same; he is a machine that observes facts and churns out hypotheses and scenarios, different permutations of how the core principles can mutate and evolve. The only difference is that he uses the word ‘machine’ in its literal sense. It’s what everybody around him thinks, anyway.
Call it paranoia, but Andrew likes to be meticulous, to be able to predict how the people around him will behave and act under normal and abnormal circumstances. He has always believed that it is better to be safe than sorry, but maybe that can be accredited to the fact that he doesn’t believe in regrets.
His latest object of scrutiny is a five-foot-three redhead by the name of Neil Josten.
Title: time and tide (might just wait for you)
Pairing: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Rating: T
Warnings: Discussions of death, mentions of self-harm, mentions of sexual assault, none of which are graphic.
Summary:
A fact: Andrew is biding his time until death.
He counts the hours left in a day, the minutes left in an hour, the seconds between sunrise and sunset. The world keeps turning, and with it, he wakes up, he eats, he smokes, he plays a sport he doesn’t care about, he guards his things, he keeps his promises, he breathes. Each intake of breath ticks off the time he has left – the space between him and death.
But against his will, his clock begins to run on a different schedule.
(or: Andrew versus life and Dr. Dobson, an act in eight parts)
two peas (in a pandemonium)
This is my gift for @dancyon as part of the @aftgexchange with the prompt “the twins bonding.” I had fun writing the scene with the twins before I realized that I needed to include some context, hence the super silly and kind of extraneous part with the Monsters + Matt in the beginning. I really hope you enjoy this – I haven’t written a lot about the twins before, so I’m kind of nervous about posting the fic,,,, I hope you have a wonderful Valentine’s!
****
Like many other mishaps in Aaron’s life, this one starts with Nicky exclaiming an “Oh!” like he’s received an epiphany.
Aaron doesn’t look up from his laptop. Matt does.
“How about we play something instead of watching a movie?”
“You mean like video games?” Matt asks.
“I mean like something we don’t normally do,” Nicky says, “like rock-climbing, or paintball.”
“You don’t like rock-climbing,” Aaron reminds him without tearing his gaze away from the physiology article he’s reading, “or anything that requires physical exertion.”
“Aaron Michael,” Nicky says, scandalized, “need I remind you that I am a collegiate athlete.”
“We played paintball last year, before the girls left,” Matt recalls, fondness coloring his voice and wistfulness filling his eyes, “it was a lot of fun.”
“Yeah, it was,” Nicky agrees. “Well, minus the part where Neil single-handedly shot and eliminated most of us. Remind me to never give the kid a real gun.”
“Any other ideas?” Matt asks, slurping on his can of beer.
Aaron groans. “Why are you encouraging him?”
“How about bowling? We did that a couple of times before.”
“You know I hate bowling,” Aaron asserts, unable to help himself.
“How about laser tag?” Matt suggests.
Nicky grimaces. “Let’s not play anything that requires shooting. Neil is going to kick all of our asses.”
“Why is he suddenly included in our plans?” Aaron asks, lips twisted like he ate something bad.
“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Matt chides, playfully kicking Aaron’s shin, “it’ll be fun to have all of us if we decide to do something.”
“Even Kevin and my brother?” Aaron asks dryly.
Matt winces.
Nicky sits up straighter, legs folded underneath him on the couch, his excitement rising. “How about roller blading?”
“I still have bruises from when we went last time,” Matt says sadly.
“Miniature golf?” Nicky tries.
“We’re banned from all three mini golf courses in the city,” Aaron states bluntly.
Nicky inhales sharply, like he just realized something.
“Oh no,” Aaron says.
“What is it?” Matt inquires, sitting sideways on his chair at the desk to look at Nicky.
“Don’t,” Aaron whispers.
“Badminton,” Nicky exhales.
two peas (in a pandemonium)
This is my gift for @dancyon as part of the @aftgexchange with the prompt “the twins bonding.” I had fun writing the scene with the twins before I realized that I needed to include some context, hence the super silly and kind of extraneous part with the Monsters + Matt in the beginning. I really hope you enjoy this – I haven’t written a lot about the twins before, so I’m kind of nervous about posting the fic,,,, I hope you have a wonderful Valentine’s!
****
Like many other mishaps in Aaron’s life, this one starts with Nicky exclaiming an “Oh!” like he’s received an epiphany.
Aaron doesn’t look up from his laptop. Matt does.
“How about we play something instead of watching a movie?”
“You mean like video games?” Matt asks.
“I mean like something we don’t normally do,” Nicky says, “like rock-climbing, or paintball.”
“You don’t like rock-climbing,” Aaron reminds him without tearing his gaze away from the physiology article he’s reading, “or anything that requires physical exertion.”
“Aaron Michael,” Nicky says, scandalized, “need I remind you that I am a collegiate athlete.”
“We played paintball last year, before the girls left,” Matt recalls, fondness coloring his voice and wistfulness filling his eyes, “it was a lot of fun.”
“Yeah, it was,” Nicky agrees. “Well, minus the part where Neil single-handedly shot and eliminated most of us. Remind me to never give the kid a real gun.”
“Any other ideas?” Matt asks, slurping on his can of beer.
Aaron groans. “Why are you encouraging him?”
“How about bowling? We did that a couple of times before.”
“You know I hate bowling,” Aaron asserts, unable to help himself.
“How about laser tag?” Matt suggests.
Nicky grimaces. “Let’s not play anything that requires shooting. Neil is going to kick all of our asses.”
“Why is he suddenly included in our plans?” Aaron asks, lips twisted like he ate something bad.
“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Matt chides, playfully kicking Aaron’s shin, “it’ll be fun to have all of us if we decide to do something.”
“Even Kevin and my brother?” Aaron asks dryly.
Matt winces.
Nicky sits up straighter, legs folded underneath him on the couch, his excitement rising. “How about roller blading?”
“I still have bruises from when we went last time,” Matt says sadly.
“Miniature golf?” Nicky tries.
“We’re banned from all three mini golf courses in the city,” Aaron states bluntly.
Nicky inhales sharply, like he just realized something.
“Oh no,” Aaron says.
“What is it?” Matt inquires, sitting sideways on his chair at the desk to look at Nicky.
“Don’t,” Aaron whispers.
“Badminton,” Nicky exhales.
if i love andrew minyard any more than i already do i’d be neil josten
Neil: In loving memory of Andrew Minyard
Neil: He’s not dead I just love remembering him
update: “a world alone”
hey y’all! chapter 2 of “a world alone” is up!!
also i’m excited for halloween because halloween means christmas is just around the corner!!!
chapter 3 is (finally) up 🙂
chapter 4 is (finally finally) up
more than one month later, chapter 5 is finally up
i just realized that i never included a link to the first chapter lmao so here ya go
update: “a world alone”
hey y’all! chapter 2 of “a world alone” is up!!
also i’m excited for halloween because halloween means christmas is just around the corner!!!
chapter 3 is (finally) up 🙂
chapter 4 is (finally finally) up
more than one month later, chapter 5 is finally up
Andrew wants to kiss Neil.
Correction: Andrew wants to kiss Neil’s scarred cheeks.
It starts with Andrew coming to a realization.
While they were on the roof watching the last light of the day draining away, Andrew realized he felt calm. It was different from his usual kind of calm detachment, because he wasn’t distancing himself from anything. There was the purple hues in the gamut of the sky, the smudges of fading orange from the sun, the weight of Neil’s head on his shoulder, the warmth of Neil’s body leaning against his, and he felt – soft. At ease.
It made him angry.
He had shoved Neil away and left the roof. Neil kept his distance, allowing Andrew space without asking for any explanation. It made Andrew angrier.
Not unkindly, Bee told him, it’s because you’re unused to this.
Andrew didn’t tell her, there is no this. He told her, I want to try to be gentle. But I don’t think I am capable of it.
She told him, you are. She told him again, Andrew, you are.
Andrew has kissed other parts of Neil that aren’t his lips. His hipbone, his thighs, his navel. Neil has kissed other parts of Andrew too. His forearms, his chest, and of course, his neck.
But Andrew has never kissed any other parts of Neil’s face, and he realizes that he wants to. He wants to press his lips to the pleats of knife scars on his right cheek, to the whorl of burn marks on his left cheek, to the tip of his freckled nose. He’s dug his teeth into the defined corner of Neil’s jaw, but he wants to kiss it too.
In the dorm room, when they are by themselves, Andrew tells Neil, I want to try something.
Putting his pencil down and closing his textbook, Neil tells Andrew, okay.
In the bedroom, Andrew says, I want to try something, but I need you to close your eyes.
Neil looks at him, then says, okay.
Andrew looks at him, then closes the space between them. The light from the bedside table skims off Neil’s eyelashes and splatters over his skin in gold.
Andrew asks, yes or no?
With his eyes closed, Neil says, yes.
Andrew tucks Neil’s hair behind an ear, leans forward with his chin tilted, and kisses Neil on his cheek. He feels the bob of muscle under his lips, but Neil keeps his eyes closed. Andrew strokes his thumb over the spot he just kissed, and thinks, yes.
He shifts a little and kisses the knot of pink skin on Neil’s other cheek. He does it once, twice, thrice. He does it again and again, each kiss softer than the last.
He falls back flat on his feet. He didn’t realize that he was standing on his tiptoes.
He tells Neil, you can open your eyes.
Neil opens them, blinking slowly, eyelashes fluttering.
He asks, may I?
Andrew nods.
Neil raises his hands and cups Andrew’s face. The tips of his fingers glide into Andrew’s hair. The blueness of his eyes is annihilating.
He asks, may I?
Andrew says, yes.
Neil leans forward, and kisses Andrew on his forehead.
Eyes falling shut, Andrew exhales softly.He thinks, yes.
Nothing but My Aching Soul 