93%

honestly i would die for this hc. like andrew and aaron rarely smile so no one knows. but then when katelyn starts hanging out with the foxes a lil bit more there’s like a chance of one of them catching aaron smiling… but like no one cares about aaron so it takes a while? but there’s a picture. and aaron’s in the background. and allison looks back on her photos from the night and she just goes. holy fuck that’s a dimple. dan’s like “yeah who cares?” and allison just looks her right in the eyes and says “andrew has dimples.”

but no one has PROOF and as we all know, it’s not true until u see it. so there are bets on whether he has them, whether he’ll ever smile, will it be because of neil, is it only one dimple or both, etc. etc. these are probably the longest standing bets among the foxes, the few that have lasted from the psu years until years after graduation because the boy does not smile. literally not ever. what the fuck. (the foxes are gonna be patient about it.)

and neil knows about the bets even though he doesn’t take part. he’s like. who even cares? it’s just… ur face goin in instead of out what the fuck. (bless him he doesn’t understand). he makes 0 attempts to make andrew smile because he knows andrew’s happier and he knows at least that andrew’s content so that’s enough for him. and he’s seen aaron’s dimples, there’s nothing that special about them? what the fuck

except.

except. 

he manages to catch andrew off-guard. one day, years and years on, when neil’s all but forgotten that the others are so intent on seeing these alleged-dimples, andrew’s relaxed. it’s warm, the cats are purring somewhere nearby without breaking shit, neil’s made him coffee and they have nowhere to be, and neil says something utterly characteristic and hilarious, and andrew breathes out a laugh. which isn’t particularly new. but there’s… somewhat a smile? and neil just like,,, stares. which andrew is used to. so he doesn’t comment.

andrew helping neil out of his gear when he blows his arms out during a game and can barely lift his racquet anymore

if neil notices how andrew’s hands linger a little longer on his skin than they should, he doesn’t mention it

andrew waking up to the smell of coffee, and a just-came-out-of-the-shower-and-dripping-wet neil, messing around in their kitchen making breakfast for them both

he’ll never admit it, but neil does it mostly so he can have andrew’s silent thank you kiss on the back of his neck

sitting on the couch or in a booth or anywhere just a little too close, just so that their thighs touch and neil can remember that this is home

andrew letting neil’s head loll on his shoulder when they’re in the bus back from a game and neil is too exhausted to stay awake 

‘i hate you’

walking side to side close enough that their shoulders bump every few steps

on the best days, andrew holding neil’s pinky with his own

neil leaving notes every morning before going for a run, and ending them with ‘i’ll be back’ everytime

when they’re watching tv, andrew letting neil lay his head in his lap and carefully running his fingers through the mess of his hair, brushing his bangs out of his face and tucking them behind his ears

(neil has never been able to tell who doing this calmed down more)

the familiar weight of andrew’s hand on the back of his neck, and a calm but strict ‘abram’ spoken into his ear

neil sleeping on the couch on nights andrew can’t stand having him close, and never asking for more than what he’s given

‘yes or no?’

the weight of the name ‘neil’, pushed into his mouth along with andrew’s tongue, grounding him and making his head spin 

sharing cigarettes and kisses on rooftops in the cold and dead of night until neither of them can feel their lips or fingertips