Andrew hated Neil, he did. This truly could be the turning point. He hates it when Neil wakes up early, he hates it when Neil surprises him with genuine warmth and affection, and he hates it when Neil smiles at him like he knows something Andrew doesn't. Right now though? Now Andrew is laying in bed, awake, watching Neil sleep peacefully. He hates him for this, more than anything.
It's 4:30, the normal time when Neil would wake for a run, but the Rabbit is sleeping. Andrew woke up to Neil's alarm, and he had even started to get up since Neil had been basically on his knees begging Andrew to keep him company. Somehow though, the junkie kept sleeping. He didn't even flinch at the rock music he has for an alarm tone. Andrew, of course, woke immediately for the alarm and debated killing him right there. No matter how long they'd been living together he still hates that routine.
Andrew sighs and pulls his arm out from under Neil's head, unwrapping his other from his waist. He starts to move away so he can go to the bathroom but there's resistance.
Looking down, he realizes Neil is clutching the sleeve of Andrew's shirt in his sleep. The temptation to break that hand is overwhelming for a moment, he needed an outlet as Dobson called it. She seems to think, for some reason, that why he hates everything Neil does more than he dislikes everyone else, is something called cuteness aggression. He nearly puked on her for suggesting it. He didn't buy into the idea that he wants to snap the fingers Neil is using to hold on to him just because he finds it endearing. There's a lot of words to describe the man sleeping next to him, cute or endearing aren't on that list.
Gritting his teeth, Andrew pries his shirt out of Neil's hand and climbs over him to stand up. He did have to pause for a moment, realizing Neil must be either completely at ease in Andrew's presence to not startle like he was about to die, or he was already dead. He definitely looked the part. Just in case, Andrew held a finger under Neil's nose to feel for his breathing, it was hard to tell visually with Neil sleeping on his stomach. His breath was warm. The dumbass actually felt safe around Andrew and let his guard down.
Something was boiling inside of Andrew, something hot and uncomfortable. It felt sort of like he was having a heart attack and his stomach was contracting like the time he had gas station sushi to prove a point. Staring at Neil intensified that feeling, he could feel his heart thundering and blood was roaring in his ears. Andrew stormed into the living room and grabbed one of the hideous throw pillows Allison got for them. Walking back to the bedroom, he threw it as hard as he possibly could at Neil's face.
Neil shot upright immediately, his expression wild and his gaze unfocused. Once his eyes met Andrew's, he relaxed. His whole demeanor instantly changed. The fucker had the nerve to sort of smile at him too.
"Well good morning to you too, Andrew. What the hell was that for?" He quipped, still staring at Andrew as he grabbed yesterday's shirt off the floor and pulled it on.
"You have been begging me for weeks to go jog with you and the one single goddamn morning I decide to, you sleep in? Fuck you."
Venom fills the words Andrew spits at him, but Neil doesn't even blink. He just flips open his phone and squints at the time. Looking back at Andrew, he grins as he jumps out of bed. Andrew thinks about how the rabbit has been smiling way too frequently recently, especially around him. Neil doesn't ever flash the camera-ready smile he uses on fans who watch the game, nor does he use the menacing smile he claims was inherited from his father. Instead, it's this unfiltered shit-for-brains look that makes Andrew want to put his face through the wall.
Refusing to stare at the idiot's face, Andrew wandered into the kitchen. He needed to distract himself and coffee seemed like it'd do the trick. Neil however, seemed to have caught on, and followed Andrew. He got right up in Andrew's face, not touching him or saying a word, just staring what felt like directly into his soul. Somehow, this man with no emotional intelligence, always picked up exactly what Andrew was feeling.
"Yes or no, 'drew?" Neil whispered. Andrew bit his tongue, tasting blood. The pain did nothing to distract from the overwhelming sense of disgust at the domesticness of this situation. He genuinely did not understand how things had developed into this. He hated that too.
His response wasn't choked, not as off-guard as he felt. The normalcy felt suffocating, but he didn't actually want to step away. Neil didn't move, he just kept staring at Andrew. For the first time in a long time, Andrew squirmed under his gaze. He wanted to push Neil's face away, or cover his eyes. He could feel the attention directed to him in every fiber of his being. But Neil still hadn't moved, he was just smiling while Andrew waited.
Andrew waited. Then waited some more. After what felt like ages, Neil finally leaned in and Andrew tilted his head to maintain eye contact with the asshole until Neil swooped past Andrew’s head and slowly buried his face into Andrew’s shoulder. Andrew felt Neil’s arms raise slowly, probably slower than they ever have before. The rabbit was giving Andrew a chance to pull away. When Neil’s arms finally wrapped around Andrew, hardly putting any pressure on his body, he had to bury a quick flash of disappointment. Neil was being considerate; he was being gentle and careful. He was being careful over a fucking hug. Andrew didn’t even know Neil liked hugs, somehow, they never had.
He let out a slow exhale as he processed this feeling and took his body into account. He didn’t feel panicked or anxious, there were no alarm bells going off and no memories. By some twisted turn of events, he felt safe like this. Giving up on trying to find a way to diffuse the embarrassment that was rising in his blood, Andrew grit his teeth and wrapped his arms around Neil’s shoulders, pulling him flush to his body.
They stayed like that, for a disgusting amount of time. Until Andrew’s arms genuinely started cramping and the coffee machine sounded informing them it was finished brewing a pot. Neil pulled back from the hug and stared at Andrew a bit longer. This time, Andrew couldn’t resist the urge to cover his eyes as he stepped back away from him. He busied himself pouring himself a cup of coffee and immediately walked away.
“I don’t want a daily humiliation ritual, Josten.” He spat, slamming their bedroom door behind him.
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