#dad!neil

He dropped into a plastic chair, straightening his shirt again. His hair was still a little damp after his 30-second shower: Convincing his coach to leave practise early was never easy, but he was one of the few teammates with a kid. And the only one of that small group who parented alone. He probably had a few more concessions than the rest, but he couldn’t afford to spend them on shit like this. 

Opposite him was a broad-shouldered man, staring at him. Unimpressed. Did he recognise Neil? He hoped not. He wasn’t in the mood for a facade. The staring continued. Neil elected to ignore him in favour of looking at the ceiling. 

When Robin was shuffled out by her classroom teacher, Danielle Wilds, she gave Neil a sheepish look. He stood up and offered his hand, which she let rest on her head. Touch was still incredibly unfamiliar to both of them. “What’s this all about, Robin?”

She pointed to the bruise on her jaw. “I pushed him after he called me bad things. Then he punched me back!” 

Neil glowered. It didn’t explain why his adoptive daughter was getting in trouble. She could sense that he knew she was omitting details of the story, and hid behind his hip as they followed Danielle Wilds down the hall. 

Behind them, the blond man stood. He was shorter than Neil - a feat in itself, really - but it was as though Neil could feel needles stabbing into the back of his skull. He took Robin by the hand as he lead her into the headmaster’s office, and immediately observed his surroundings: The enormous glass window looking out over the school’s courtyard, where kids were dressed for phys-ed and playing with skipping ropes, the mahogany desk, the shelves of books, the trophies and certificates of achievement on the walls. Boyd had a picture of a young girl with wild, curly hair by his computer. The man in question was sitting relaxedly in his chair, tattoos visible through the white button-down, his cuffs loose and rolled to mid-forearm. His hair was spiked with gel, and 

There was a young boy, sitting opposite him. He had black hair and green eyes, looking nothing like the blond man who sat next to him. The son was probably getting close to his father’s height. Both of them wore distasteful sneers. Like father like son, Neil supposed.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Neil asked, when there had been too many moments of frigid silence. “Robin? Anyone? I’d like to know exactly why I’m here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Josten --”

“Neil.” 

“Neil.” Boyd cleared his throat. “Robin and Kevin have been having some serious disagreements over the past few weeks. Neither seem willing to compromise, or come to an impasse. We usually like to guide students to conflict resolution, but this is getting out of hand. Isn’t it, Kevin?” He looked at the boy. “Robin?” Neil’s daughter withered under his look of disappointment. 

They both pointed at each other. “They started it!” 

“Kevin always tells me that I’m dumb and get all the answers wrong.” Robin wailed. “And he hides my pencils!”

“Robin scribbled in my maths scrapbook.” Kevin huffed. “Then she hid my completed spelling homework --”

“Wasn’t me!” 

“And then she put grapes in the bottom of my bag, and they’re all squishy!” 

“Are you sure that your own grapes didn’t spill, Kevin?” His father implored. 

“You’re very good at losing pencils, Robin.” Neil shook his head. “Maybe you’ve lost them?”

“No!” Both of them cried. 

Momentarily, Neil looked to the other father, and recognised the look of pure frustration furrowing the man’s brows. 

Boyd rested his elbows on his desk, clasping his fingers beneath his chin. “But is that why we’re here today?”

Both of the children quietened. 

“What the supervising teacher told me was that she saw Robin push Kevin, who hit her on the face.” He gestured to the bruise on Robin’s chin. “The other children said that Kevin was calling her names. I would like to reiterate that there is a strict, no-violence policy at this school, and would like you both to go home and think about the way you have behaved. Neil, Andrew: You should help them reflect and compose apology letters to one another. I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.”

Andrew glared daggers, standing abruptly and ushering his son out the door. Neil grabbed Robin by the shoulder and dragged her out. 

When they caught up to the other pair, Neil sniped: “Really appreciated being dragged in here, thanks.”

“Maybe butchering is a hereditary thing, hm?” Andrew examined his car-keys. They were sleek, an expensive model that Neil couldn’t possibly name. “Such a shame.” 

Neil fumed. Sensing Neil’s irritation, Andrew turned a blank look on him; Neil wondered how someone with such a void-like gaze could be a parent. 

“Let’s go home.” He murmured. Robin tucked herself into Neil’s side and they hurried out of the administration building together. 

Here’s how it goes:

Neil was almost 24, and coached Exy teams in Couth Carolina’s little league. He’d got out of his family’s criminal history through his Exy scholarship, but never taken it further. He hadn’t even really liked kids, but it was something to do.

Then, because Neil’s tragic existence seemed to be catastrophic for those around him, a car t-boned into a van outside his apartment. Neil, always running in the early hours of the morning, immediately rushed over. The sedan’s driver was a crumpled heap, blood splattered across the windscreen -- he most likely dead, so Neil ignored him. But there were screams coming from the back of the van, so he yanked the damaged door open. 

Bruised and bleeding, curled into the corner of the van, was Robin. She was thrown into the foster system as an infant, and was then kidnapped at the age of three. No one cared about a foster kid going missing. Her missing person’s file was practically non-existent, especially after 2 years. Robin had clambered into his arms as he pulled her out of the back of that van, and he hasn’t had a full night’s sleep since. 

Four years later, he’d set up a scholarship program in the little league, his daughter was making enemies at her new school, and Neil still didn’t regret a thing. 

Andrew sat in the car and thought about the best way to approach this. For Kevin’s sake, he would be a role-model. But every inch of that Josten had him wanting to clench his fists. Of course he knew of him: Exy had gotten him through college. The Josten scandal was everywhere: Leaving the Ravens for the Trojans, Jean Moreau quickly following suit, the Butcher of Baltimore, the Moriyamas, the FBI; Then, settling down to coach kids. That drama had to be almost a decade ago, though. Didn’t matter. Exy had never mattered to Andrew. His degree had also been second thought: His occupation was satisfying, but never thrilling. 

Having a kid, though. Jesus. 

Kevin was a handful and a half. He was brimming with energy and emotion, repressed anger and competitiveness creating a volatile reaction to most situations. Andrew had taken Kevin in after his mother’s death, his old exy coach, Wymack, being the father but being unable to, you know. Father. 

Andrew didn’t understand how the fuck he was meant to be any better. 

“I’m sorry, Andrew.” Kevin didn’t look that apologetic. “She’s just super annoying! And she wouldn’t shut up about how her dad’s team is the best, and she loves her dad, and he’s the best, and how she’s going to play Exy too. Exy, exy, exy. All the time! It drives me insane! She talks so loudly, too. And so much. She never shuts up.”

Andrew could read his son. “Usually people aren’t this successful at getting under your skin, Kevin.”

“I hate her!” He frowned, his lips puckering. It was stupidly adorable. Andrew hated the word adorable. “I really do, you know. She’s always teasing me about liking history and reading my books. She can’t even do maths!”

“Remember what I tell you, Kevin.” Andrew switched on the ignition and swerved out of his car-parking space. He searched for the flash of an expensive sportscar, of which would be presumedly Neil’s, but he couldn’t find one. 

“Be the better person so you can shove their own failures up their asses, I know.” Kevin drew his feet onto the dashboard but Andrew swatted them down.

“No feet on the dashboard.” He pointed at Kevin but the brat pushed his hand away, promptly sticking out his tongue. 

God, why did he decide to have kids?

Oh yeah. He didn’t. Right. 

(Still didn’t believe in regret, though.)

i hope this made sense! 

Andrew handed over one of the bags. “Go put these under the tree,” he instructed as he stepped inside the tiny apartment. He removed his boots and coat and headed to the kitchen with his other bags.

Neil was standing in front of the stove, frowning at a piece of fairly mangled packaging.

“Are you cooking?” asked Andrew, letting his extreme skepticism bleed into his tone.

“Cookies,” said Neil, brandishing the packaging. “From a tube. I think I can manage.”

“Can you?”

“I may have ripped the bit that told me what temperature the oven’s supposed to be but 450 should be fine, right?”

“If you want charcoal briquettes,” Andrew sighed and reached over, adjusting the oven temperature to something much more reasonable. Neil leaned against him and smiled, causing a slight ache in Andrew’s chest.

“Merry Christmas,” Neil said. “Thank you for coming.”

Andrew had received his usual invitations to spend the day with Bee or with Aaron but he’d declined in favour of spending it with the Jostens. He’d come to realize that there was nowhere he’d rather be, something which worried him. He hadn’t quite decided what to do about his attraction and attachment to Neil.

“DAD! PRESENTS!” shouted Kevin.

“He's excited,” commented Andrew, unpacking his groceries into the almost-barren fridge.

“He was awake at 2,” said Neil, pouring out two mugs of coffee from his coffee maker (the only high quality appliance in the kitchen).

“Was he worried you’d disappeared again?” asked Andrew in a low voice. Kevin didn’t have any concrete memories of his mother anymore but he did carry the lasting impression that she’d left in the middle of the night and never returned. He had the habit of getting up to check that Neil hadn’t abandoned him.

“No, he just couldn’t sleep from excitement. I eventually had to threaten to take away his presents to get him to stay in bed until a reasonable hour.”

Kevin ran into the kitchen. “You said we could open presents when Andrew got here,” he said impatiently. He grabbed Andrew’s hand and started ineffectually pulling him. “Come see the tree! I decorated it myself.”

“I see that,” replied Andrew. The tree was small, but real, probably brought over by Boyd or Reynolds. All the ornaments were clustered at the front and were about three and half feet off the ground - directly level with Kevin’s eye-line.

“Look at my presents!” said Kevin, as Andrew settled on the couch. Neil perched beside him and handed over one of the mugs of coffee. “I’ve got one from you and one from Matt and one from Dan and one from Allison and one from Wymack and one from Miss Renee and one from Laila and one from Abby-”

“Breathe, bud,” said Neil.

“-and THREE from Santa and zero from Dad.”

“Oops,” said Neil. “That’s supposed to be two from Santa and one from me.”

“Santa’s wrapping ability seems to be on par with yours,” said Andrew, indicated the three messily wrapped parcels that stood out from all the neat folds and tight corners of the other presents.

“We collaborated,” said Neil.

“Can I open them now? Please, dad? Pllllllease?” whined Kevin.

Andrew flinched minutely. The word ‘please’ still held terrible connotations for him - especially when spoken in a child’s voice - but Kevin whined enough that he was becoming desensitized to hearing it.

“Open the one from Allison,” said Neil. “I don’t trust the smile she gave me when she brought it over.” He turned to Andrew. “The last time she smiled at me like that she gave Kevin cymbals.”

Allison’s gift turned out to be a collection of children’s DVDs full of colourful characters and songs that were probably specifically written to appeal to kids and to torture their parents.

“I don’t know what I did to make her hate me,” said Neil despondently.

“She doesn’t hate you,” said Kevin, looking concerned. “She likes you. She gives you hugs and pats your head and calls you kitten.”

“I’m aware,” said Neil dryly.

Kevin still looked troubled. “Once, she told Miss Renee that she’d do you if you weren’t so obivious. What’s that mean?”

Neil groaned.

“Dad? What’s obivious?”

“It means your dad doesn’t always see what’s right in front of him,” provided Andrew.

Kevin’s face cleared. “Like when he can’t find his shoes?”

“Exactly like that,” said Andrew. “Open another present.”

Kevin was sufficiently diverted by opening the rest of his presents.

“He’s so spoiled,” said Neil fondly, picking up the discarded wrapping paper once Kevin had disappeared into his room to organize his new toys. Not play with. Organize. Andrew was convinced that this was abnormal child behaviour but he appreciated it since it decreased the likelihood of him stepping on a Lego brick.

“You’re the one who decided to settle in a town full of busybodies,” said Andrew.

“Can you believe it’s been three years?”

Andrew couldn’t. His life had changed so much since Neil, looking like a zombie, had carried a screaming toddler into his diner on a late November evening. At first he’d told himself that he was helping out and keeping a close eye on him for Kevin’s sake - he was never going to allow a child to be harmed like he’d been if he could prevent it. He hadn’t needed Bee, his therapist, to point out that a lot of his initial interest was due to his own unresolved childhood issues: how many times had he wished that someone would steal him away and keep him safe?

It had taken him some time before he’d realized the danger he was in. One morning he’d handed Neil his morning coffee and Neil had given him a genuine smile and looked at him as if he were the only person on the planet that had any worth. Then Neil had taken a sip of the coffee and emitted a groan that was practically pornographic, sending a bolt of desire through Andrew’s lower belly.

Unfortunately it hadn’t taken him long to ascertain that Neil didn’t return his interest. Neil didn’t return anyone’s interest, actually, which was lucky as Andrew didn’t have to watch him date someone else. Neil was busy with his job and overwhelmed caring for Kevin and Andrew didn’t think that dating was currently in the cards for him, even if he had showed any inclination of wanting to.

Bee had told him that he had three choices.

One, he could ask Neil if he were interested in starting a romantic relationship. Andrew vetoed that; he had no desire to pressure Neil into something he may feel obligated to do because of how much he relied on Andrew.

Two, he could distance himself from Neil (and, by necessity, Kevin) and try to move on with someone else. That option made Andrew’s stomach hurt, especially since he wouldn’t be able to explain to Neil why his behaviour had suddenly changed.

Or three, he could accept that his relationship with Neil may never be exactly what he wanted but it was important and fulfilling all the same.

Andrew started on dinner fairly early. He was roasting a chicken as he wasn’t about to make an entire turkey for the three of them. For the last two years Neil had attended the dinner that Wymack provided at the Foxhole Inn for staff and guests and townspeople who had nowhere else to go, but Andrew had offered to cook this year and Neil had gladly accepted.

Kevin shuffled into the kitchen, blinking sleepily. His adrenaline had clearly worn off and his lack of sleep was catching up with him. Still, he clutched one of the DVDs from Allison and held it wordlessly out to Neil, who was keeping Andrew company and occasionally helping as Andrew prepared their meal.

“Are you sure you don’t want a nap?” asked Neil.

“Naps are for babies,” said Kevin disdainfully.

“I nap all the time,” said Neil. “I love naps.”

“For babies and disasters,” corrected Kevin.

Andrew felt his lips twitch as he put the chicken in the oven. Neil was glaring at him when he straightened.

“That is completely your fault,” he accused.

“I only speak the truth,” said Andrew.

Neil rolled his eyes and turned back to Kevin. “You go put that in the DVD player and we’ll meet you there.”

Andrew brewed another pot of coffee while Neil gathered blankets and they settled into a warm nest on the couch. Kevin climbed up beside Andrew and cuddled against him, already losing his fight with sleep. His blinks became longer and slower as the movie started.

Neil was leaning heavily on Andrew’s other side, having fallen asleep almost as soon as he’d sat down. He had the enviable ability to instantly drop off to sleep almost anywhere. Andrew knew that he must be exhausted as he’d been picking up extra shifts at the inn so he could afford to take the next week off to spend time with Kevin. He snuffled and started drooling on Andrew’s shirt.

Andrew watched the inane movie alone as Neil and Kevin slept, already knowing that at least one of the songs was going to be stuck in his head forever. He’d be humming it for weeks.

“Wymack’s child?” Neil had said, startled. “I...hadn’t realised.”

“What of it?” Andrew asked, leaning a little closer and sipping on his gin.

“I’ve had two kids granted scholarships with Palmetto State.” He admitted. “If it weren’t for Wymack’s initiative to take in disadvantaged youth, they’d never be considered. I’m hoping - well, Robin wants to go there.”

“Tell the old fuck to say hi to his kid more often.” Andrew grumbled.

Neil laughed softly, a quick curl of the lips. It was a sound Andrew was becoming incredibly fond of. Fuck, he was turning into a sappy shit, wasn’t he?

Outside, they smoked together, leaning against the hood of Andrew’s Maserati. Andrew’s suspicion had grown when Neil insisted to help pay, but perhaps that was just him defying traditionalism, like the rest of his existence did. 

There was only one way to figure it out.  

His hair shone in the moonlight whilst the golden hues leaking from the windows of the restaurant curved over his cheekbones and lips. His scars distorted his skin, warped by age and further growth.  

Regardless of scars, Neil was, in short: Stunning. The most attractive man Andrew could remember stumbling across. He was the perfect height, the appropriate age, a single, working father who understood trauma and trust issues. And he was here, on a date with Andrew.

What were the chances?

“Can I kiss you?”

Neil looked at him, shock spasming across his face. “Huh?”

Apparently, the chances were zero. 

“A kiss, Josten.” Andrew said, flatly. He ignored the disappointment that lurched in his throat. “Must I spell it out for you?”

“I -” He stammered. “I didn’t realise you like me.”

“I hate you.” Andrew: Contradictory as always. He kept his gaze upon the restaurant, refusing to allow Neil to see the tumultuous storm of unwarranted emotion in his eyes. “What did you think this was?”

“Not a date.” He said, weakly. “Didn’t occur to me that someone was willing to look past this.” Andrew saw the gestures out of the corner of his eyes. Neil was talking about his scars. 

“Fuck off, and take your pity party with you.” He said, decidedly. 

“I still had a nice evening.” Neil offered. “I hope me being a dumbass didn’t ruin it entirely.” He had slid off the hood, grinding the cigarette under his boot. “Uh. I’ll go?” 

“Do.” Andrew said flatly. He’d known it was too good to be true. 

And then - against all expectations - 

(Seriously, why did Andrew bother with expectations surrounding Neil? He had defied every single one of them thus far.) 

-  Neil leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek. Andrew whipped his head to look at him as his own face grew warm, unable to stop his body’s reaction. 

Neil was even more hopelessly awkward, clutching his car-keys to his chest. “I hope that was okay. Uh. I had a really good time. Sorry I didn’t realise it was a date. Um. Call me?” He grimaced at himself, cheeks as red as his hair. “I’m going to walk away now.”

“Take your time.” Andrew offered, ignoring his own hypocrisy as his heart slammed against his ribcage. “I’m finding this rather amusing.”

Neil scowled. “Oh, fuck off.” With that, he swivelled on his heel and stormed away. 

Now, that was a more typical ending to Andrew’s usual dates. He took a drag of his cigarette and let himself smile - just a little - as he remembered the brush of Neil’s lips over his cheek. 

“Come out with me again.” Andrew was leant against the plexiglass wall with his arms crossed, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he watched Neil pack up from practise. Most kids had already vacated: Late, Thursday practises always cleared out quickly. Robin and Kevin were running drills together at the other end of the court.

“What?” Neil was awfully distracted by Andrew’s popped collar, unable to forget Allison’s critical analysis of Neil’s newfound distraction. Not to mention they’d already been on a date - not that Neil had realised. “What do you mean?”

“You’re hopeless.” Andrew shook his head. “I should have known better than to do this.”

“No, wait-” He dragged the stack of cones over, dropping them onto the wooden floorboards when he was stood in front of Andrew. He was much taller than the man when Andrew was slouched against the wall like this. “What did you say? I didn’t hear you.”

“You’re an idiot and a liar.” Andrew offered. “I’d like to run you over.”

“Right.” Neil said, trying not to smile. “Of course.”

“I’m asking you out to dinner.”

“Why?” Neil asked.

Andrew narrowed his eyes. “Are you that thick?”

“I didn’t think you were interested, after how much of a mess last time was.” Oh, fucking fuck, what the fuck was he doing?

“Surprise, surprise.” Andrew muttered, shouldering his way out from between Neil and the wall. “I’ll be at yours at 7. Don’t make me wait. Kevin!” He snapped. “We’re going, hurry up!”

“Come help me pack up, Robin.” Neil urged.

The two kids dragged their feet as they were forced in opposite directions. Neil saluted Andrew in farewell, and was flipped off in response. He laughed, but it hiccupped in his throat. Andrew Minyard had asked him out to dinner - a date. A real date, that he knew was a date. And he’d said yes.

Robin rubbed her eyes as she yawned when they’d finally packed up. “Are we going home now?”

“Yes, honey.” He ruffled her hair. “Do you want to go over to Allison’s tomorrow night?”

“But there isn’t an away game on Saturday?” She yawned again.

“I’ve got a lot of paperwork to do in the office tomorrow night.” Neil lied. It didn’t sit well in his stomach, but he didn’t really want to explain to his daughter why he wanted the house free. He didn’t want to admit to himself why he wanted the house free. “And there will be games played on court, so you can’t practise. I’m sure Laila and Jeremy would love to have you over.”

“Okay.” She hiccuped, skipping ahead. 

Neil frantically pulled out his phone.

N: you have to look after robin tomorrow night sorry not sorry 

Allie: uh huh. 

N: and you need to help me figure out what to wear.

Allie: knew it! i believe in u, u sexy midget

N: um thanks? 

The whole arrangement between him and Allison worked swell: Her kids came over for a snack as Allison shuffled him into his bedroom. 

“Ass jeans.” She threw a plastic bag at him. “Trust me on this one.”

“How’d you know my size?” He demanded, mystified. When he pulled out the new boxers, he threw them at her with an indignant squawk. “The children are next door to us, Allison.”

“But they won’t be tonight.” She winked, clapping her hands delightedly. “Fuck, I love being a wing-woman.”

“I haven’t seen you in such a good mood - ever.” Neil accused. “How’s Renee.”

“Fuck off and get dressed, Neil.” 

Then she’d taken Robin off Neil’s hands ( “Dad, why are you dressed fancy to go to work?” “I’m just testing out some new clothes, honey. Enjoy yourself! Go to sleep early!” ) and Neil was left alone, waiting for Andrew on his front doorstep. The gun-metal grey of the car - a Maserati, as Andrew had previously insisted - was impossible to miss as it turned into Neil’s street. 

Andrew had his hand hanging limp out of his window as Neil clambered in. 

“Hey.” He said. 

“Hey yourself.” Andrew replied, shooting off. 

Second date basis, Neil thought to himself. Did the first one even count? Oh, fuck. He was so out of his depth.

“Called it.” Andrew said quietly, as the car pulled to a stop. Neil glanced over at him and Andrew slanted a bored look. “You were too relaxed last time, which made me suspect you hadn’t gotten the clue.”

Neil stuttered out an apology, to which Andrew lifted his chin with his finger. 

“Quiet.” He instructed. “Breathe.”

Neil did as he was told. When they got out of the car, he followed Andrew through a parking lot: It was crowded. When Neil saw the orange and white donned fans, he couldn’t stifle his smile. 

He was completely overdressed for an Exy game, but Andrew was also dressed to the nines, so it didn’t feel strange. From the boot of his car, Andrew gathered two Palmetto Fox-themed scarves for the both of them. 

“Tell anyone I willingles went to an Exy match, and I’ll kill you.” Andrew warned. 

Neil just couldn’t stop grinning. “Would anyone believe me?”

The stadium itself was huge: Neil wondered how different his life would have been, should he had participated in collegiate exy. Maybe he would have been able to make a name for himself. Maybe his father would have killed him. They had good seats, in the third row back from the sub benches of the Catamounts. It was an exceptionally tough game: Neil would have been upon the edge of his seat, but watching Andrew was equally as thrilling. He sat back, allowing himself to gaze upon the icy-blonde hair and hazels eyes that shone with each flash of a red goal light. 

“Staring.” Andrew commented. 

Neil hummed. It was lost under the cacophony of noise as the Foxes scored another point. Robin would have loved to go to a Foxes game, as would Kevin. It was both a shame and a relief that they weren’t here. It meant the flush across Neil’s cheeks wasn’t questioned, nor the way that Andrew risked a hand on Neil’s knee. 

After the game - Foxes, winning 7:6 - they ate food  stall dinner and walked lazily back to the car beside one another. The drive was just as relaxed, Andrew humming along with Neil’s technical analysis of the game. There were a lot of whole in which he had no idea what happened, too distracted by the man next to him. 

“I wonder if our kids think we still hate each other.”  Neil mused.

“I do hate you.” 

He rolled his eyes. “My mistake.”

The corner of Andrew’s mouth quirked. 

They arrived at Neil’s place, Andrew parking to escort Neil to his front door. Neio felt his fingers involuntarily clench into fists as they approached the entrance, knowing it was a crucial moment. 

His hand hesitated over the door handle. He turned to Andrew. “Would you like something to drink?”

Andrew rose a single eyebrow.  

“Tea, coffee, whisky,” Neil was blushing, but he stood his ground, stepping through the door and propping it open. “Come on. It’s getting cold outside.” 

Andrew walked across the premises and the door clicked shut behind him with a dulled sense of finality. Neil guided Andrew through to the kitchen, putting the kettle on for himself. 

As Andrew gestured towards the coffee machine, Neil’s phone began to ring in his back pocket. He grimaced apologetically as he put it to his ear, Andrew simply raising a single eyebrow, switching the coffee machine on. “Hello?”

“Neil, thank god.” Allison said, breathless. 

“Allison?” His hand stilled. “What is it?”

“Robin’s okay, but she’s been seriously sick. I’ve tried to keep her calm, but she’s super distressed. She needs you. It’s probably just some bug she’s caught, but it’s pretty bad.”

“Shit. Shit. I’m on my way.” He hung up and buried his head in his hands. “Christ alive.” He spins around with a derisive laugh. “I get you into my place, and for what?” 

Andrew rose up the other eyebrow. Neil flushed. 

“Robin’s sick. I need to go grab her.” 

Andrew took his keys from the kitchen bench. “I’ll drive you.”

“What? That’s -” He coughed. “You don’t have to.”

“I wouldn’t trust your car not to spontaneously combust if a fly landed on it.” Andrew said, truthfully. “Come on.”

“The life of single parenting.” Neil grumbled, the anticipation of the evening vanishing with the first words from Allison’s call. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Andrew was at his wits end with this case. It was not heart-warming, nor simplistic. And while he appreciated a challenge, his client had repeatedly created many issues that he would have to divert in order to succeed, and his client still treated him like an asshole, no matter the effort. Justice was a complicated, bitch of a thing. 

He got out of the shower, donning sweatpants and a t-shirt. It was evening: Kevin had gone out with Wymack again: This time, Wymack was well enough to fly over to LA to see the Trojans, and Kevin had been practically hopping all morning with excitement. His son’s over-enthusiasm hadn’t helped the headache of a case, either. 

He threw himself back onto the couch and pulled out his phone. 

Nei(diot)l: date #3, yes or no?? 

A: yes. when. 

N: uh. now? i kinda have chinese food and am at ur door. 

Andrew yanked the door open. Neil’s sweatpants hung deliciously low on his hips, the long sleeve covering his scarred torso and arms. In his arms were bags of food. Andrew stepped out of his way, but didn’t miss the way the hair on the back of Neil’s neck rose as Andrew brushed his fingertips across Neil’s lower back. 

They ate in comfortable silence on the couch, amongst papers and books.  Respectfully, Neil didn’t look. Instead, he asked. “Kev’s upstairs?”

“Away for the weekend.” 

Neil hummed. 

“Why are you here, Neil?”

He shrugged, stabbing into his chao mien. “I have a six-senth.” 

Andrew put his carton down onto the coffee table, uncaring if it ruined transcripts. He, realistically, shouldn’t want to want Neil. Not when work was stressful, and often hitting too close to home. But he wanted Neil. In every way that Neil would give him. He stood in front of the young man and took the chinese food from his grasp, chucking it alongside his own. 

“Robin?” Andrew checked. 

“Sleeping over with Allison’s children.” Neil murmured, gazing up at Andrew with undeserved awe. 

Andrew clambered onto the couch, a knee on either side of Neil’s hips. He grabbed Neil’s hands and pinned them to the couch cushions. 

“Can I kiss you: Yes or no?” 

“Yes.” Neil said. “Obviously.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He took Neil’s jaw into his hands. Even this close, Andrew was fearful to take the leap. Being a single parent had defined him for so long, it was almost incomprehensible to think of himself as anything else. Kevin and Robin ought to get used to each other. “You’re so fucking annoying.” 

“Should I take the food and go?” He suggested. 

Andrew kissed him quiet.

ta-daaa!

Matthew Boyd looked pleased, sitting back in his chair. “Okay? Are we all happy?”

Andrew Minyard - all it’d taken was a quick search for articles to flood Neil’s feed - said nothing, watching Neil from under his eyelashes. Neil had no clue what he wanted from him, and had stubbornly avoided looking in his direction as both kids read their apologies. Kevin was brooding, looking out the window. Robin’s hand was tugging on Neil’s sleeve. 

“Thank you for your time, Neil, Andrew.” Boyd stood. “I hope both of you will continue to remind both Kevin and Robin how important civility is.”

Neil was sure that all four of them grimaced at the idea of civility. If Andrew was going to use Neil’s past to degrade his worth as a parent, he’d have to try a little harder than that. Besides: He was being hypocritical. Neil had never been arrested, let alone sent to court and convicted - Andrew had. Twice. 

Shuffling Robin out, they stood next to one another on the pavement, Robin holding his hand. The whole ordeal was over now. Time to forget Andrew Minyard and his arrogant son. 

"Off to class?” He tipped Robin’s chin up carefully. 

She nodded, but tears were welling in the corners of her eyes and threatening to spill. Neil knelt down immediately. 

“Robin, what’s wrong.” He took her cheeks in his hands. 

“I didn’t really mean to push Kevin.” She blubbered. “Is that why you’re going away tonight?”

“Oh, sweetheart, no.” He drew her in, letting her head rest on his shoulder. 

Tonight, Robin would stay with Allison Reynolds. She was the parent of Laila and Jeremy, who’s daughter had long moved on from Exy, but who’s son remained on Neil’s A-Grade team. They were close friends. Robin had grown to adore Laila, doting on her like a little sister, taking time to teach Robin to bake, play backyard Exy, or even help with homework. She stayed with them when Neil had to travel out of state with his team. 

“I don’t want to.” She sniffled. “Why don’t you take me with you, like you normally do?”

“Because they’ve skewed the scheduling, Robin. I don’t want you to miss school.” He brushed a kiss on her forehead whilst she was being unresistant, revelling in the affections that Robin had grown comfortable with. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, I promise. Allison has your things, and your nightlight: The guest bedroom always has its locks. Laila will keep you safe, okay? Maybe she’ll bake you those brownies that you love.”

She perked up slightly, nodding and taking off: Her glittery backpack bounced on her back. “Bye Dad!” She called over her shoulder, waving. Neil closed his eyes as his chest squeezed. 

It always pained him to see Robin go. 

With shaky hands, he drew out his pack of cigarettes and shook out the lighter. His fingers were trembling, making it difficult to spark one. Frustratedly, he threw the lighter into the bin on his left and rubbed his eyes, letting out the breath he’d been holding. 

“Want a light?”

Slowly, he peeled his eyes open. 

Andrew Minyard was stood to his right, offering a sparked lighter.

Andrew watched Neil Josten light his cigarette and take a slow drag, hollowing his scarred cheeks. His eyes were the same spectacular blue of the sky, his hair almost the colour of blood. Fitting, for the Butcher’s boy. It would be shocking, if Andrew wasn’t incapable of being shocked, that Neil would be here. It was always strange to see people you heard of in the news when you were younger. 

What a quiet life he’s arranged for himself, here. 

Andrew could say the same. Only moments ago had he carted Kevin off to class, books under his arm and a sullen set to his frown. His son was a miserable nerd. It was hilarious. 

“I know about you.” Neil offered. “I don’t want your son near my daughter.”

“And I know about you.” Andrew rebutted. He couldn’t deny he didn’t appreciate the honesty. Most parents at this school were conniving fuckwits. “I don’t want your daughter near my son.”

“Good.” Neil huffed. “That’s settled, then.”

Andrew wasn’t finished. “What do you do?”

Neil rose a single eyebrow, keeping his gaze on the stagnant carpark in front of them. Storm clouds gathered on the horizon: Andrew hated the humid, electric storms of South Carolina’s summers. “I coach the junior state Exy teams. You?”

“Criminal prosecutor.” 

At least Neil had the audacity to laugh. Andrew hid the twitch at the corner of his mouth behind his hand, watching as Neil dropped his cigarette to the ground, stamping it out with his heel. He looked at Andrew one last time, and really, fuck him for looking like that. “Keep your son away from my daughter, Minyard, and we won’t have any problems.”

“Shove your attitude up your ass, and then we’ll have no problems.” Andrew left with his mocking salute, walking towards his car. He was sure Neil continued glared at him until he’d driven well out of his range of vision. 

It was a big enough school that he’d most likely never run into Neil Josten and his pretty eyes again. 

That was fine by Andrew - but oh, boy. He’d been very wrong. 

Neil was extremely uncomfortable. A big banner across the auditorium read Bring Your Parent To School Day with dozens of exclamation marks: Around him were a chaotic cohort of children and parents, gathered into small groups and chattering excitedly. Robin had disappeared five minutes ago, and he was anxiously looking for her to return. Allison was supposed to be here, but she was nowhere to be seen, and Andrew Minyard was across the room. 

Socialising wasn’t his thing: Everyone here was discussing their jobs, college, high school, reminiscing, all that shit. Neil had spent his elementary years home schooled, his high-school years running, his college years in perpetual fear and his occupation fighting the prejudice established against him. 

This place was a rumour gold-mine. 

“Neil! Neil!” Robin barrelled into him. “Look! These are my friends, Abby and Bee!” 

One was blonde and pink-cheeked, who looked very shy. The other was grinning madly, her chubbiness endearing. Their mother rushed after them, skidding to a stop before she could barrel into Neil head-first. They all wore matching silver necklaces, crosses hanging daintily at their necks. The mother’s silver hair, however, was streaked through with many colours. It was confusing. 

“I’m Renee,” She said apologetically. “You must be Neil.”

Neil shook her hand uneasily. “I’m sorry that Robin dragged your kids off.”

She waved off his concern. 

“Abby is my cousin.” Bee explained to Neil. “But she lives with me now. And Robin told me that she hasn’t always lived with you. Is that why she doesn’t call you Dad?”

“Or he’s gay,” Abby chided. “And it would be confusing to call both her dads Dad.”

Neil flushed, but the girls were all giggling. Renee mouthed an apology, hiding her face behind her hands. Neil shook his head. 

“Don’t worry. I get these questions all the time.”

“Which questions?” Allison’s familiar, chiding tone could be heard over the din easily. She appeared by his side, Laila and Jeremy in tow. Neil watched fondly as Robin hugged Laila hesitantly, and introduced her Exy friends to her classmates. 

“That I’m gay.” Neil provided. “Allison, this is Renee. Renee, this is Allison. Don’t mind her being a bitch: She can’t help it.”

“The children.” Allison hissed. Renee waved it off. 

“They’re not listening.” Momentarily, they watched their kids bonding together. “My daughter and niece were just being very invasive. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, Neil.” 

“Oh,” Allison snorted. “He gets asked if he’s gay all the time. It’s not your kids’ fault. He’s just an absolute twink.”

Neil shoved her lightly and she elbowed him back. 

Renee was about to ask her a question, but was promptly hooked by a middle aged man and his judgemental glares towards both Neil and Allison. She threw an apologetic glance over her shoulder towards them and the kids as she dragged her daughters off. 

“It’s not like you to introduce yourself to strangers.” Neil hedged. “What about your whole all parents are beneath me attitude?”

She examined her nails. “Can’t blame me for knowing when someone’s hot and eyeing me up. Not your fault you can’t read signals.” 

“She was what?” Neil shook his head. “Whatever. I want to get out of here. Can’t we just take them all to a diner?” 

Allison clucked her tongue, looking at where Renee was being introduced into a new circle. “Not tonight, blue-eyed boy. Go get some kids into that program of yours. Be productive. Find a single parent to complain with. Or flirt with.”

“You are a single parent to complain with.” He grunted, crossing his arms. “Alright. Fuck off with you, then.”

She grinned and pinched his cheek, before sauntering off. 

God, Neil hated school functions. 

“Neil, it’s loud in here.” Robin tugged on his sleeve. “Can we go outside for a bit?”

“Do you want to go home?” He hedged. 

She paused; then shrugged. “I want to play with Abby and Bee. But I’m not sure.” 

“Let’s make that decision outside.”  He conceded, and guided her outside. His anxiety was making him itch for a cigarette, but he never smoked around Robin. Instead, he crouched down next to her, letting her put her hands on his shoulders and hoisting her up onto his back. He grinned over his shoulder at his daughter. “Comfy?”

She nodded into her shirt. They walked around the edge of the building, away from the entrance and the cacophony of noise. Cars were crammed into every parking space. Across the way was the administrative building, where Neil had last spoke to Andrew Minyard. Neil’d seen him only briefly tonight. Had he already left?

Why do you care? 

They both leaned on the brick wall of the auditorium’s exterior, Neil crouching to Robin’s eye-level. 

“Dad,” She said hesitantly. “Why are everyone’s families older?” 

Neil brushed an eyelash off her cheek. “It’s their choice when they have children, Robin. I was lucky to get you when I did.”

“But I don’t have a mom.”

“She’s out there, somewhere. We’ve talked about this, Robin.” Neil tapped her nose. “Did you want to find her?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No. I don’t want to leave you.”

Neil’s heartstrings were being yanked in all different directions. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

She blew a raspberry at him. “Can we go home?”

“Fine, you rascal.” Relief released the tension that had curled his shoulders all evening. He took her hand. “Let’s go.”

He threw himself into the car with enthusiasm, after strapping her into the backseat, and put the keys into the ignition. 

And then: Of course. The car wouldn’t start. 

“What’s wrong with the car, Neil?” 

He was so tempted to whack his head against the horn of the stupid steering wheel. Instead, he gave Robin a reassuring glance and swung himself out of the car. 

It was probably just his battery: He’d get Allison to jumpstart his car and then they’d be sweet. Or she could just give them a lift home. 

Cranking open the hood, he checked that nothing was about to explode, before calling out to Robin: “Can you try turning the radio on?”

She scrambled into the front. He could see her little flushed cheeks shaking her head after she’d fumbled for a minute or so. He drew in a deep breath and reached for his phone. 

“That’s a shitshow of a car.” 

Neil’s eye twitched. He turned around. “Not all of us are lawyers.” 

“And yet, you could have been a professional Exy player.” Andrew - who else would it be, honestly - pointed out. “Seems slightly more lucrative than this.”

Neil seethed. “What do you want?” He could see Kevin, standing a little ways back with his arms crossed. Sullen brat. 

“To offer my jump cables?” Andrew rose his eyebrows. “Unless you want to walk home in the dark.”

“And you care, because?”

“Because I’m such a caring, affectionate person, Josten.”

Neil snorted. Right. “I have my own cables, thanks.”

“Always prepared, runaway.” Andrew rose his chin. “You’d still need a battery.”

Neil ground his teeth. Whatever angle that Andrew was attempting, Neil just couldn’t figure it out. “Fine. Fine. God, I’m going to hate owing you. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Neil, what’s happening?” Robin called. 

He leaned over the opened front door. “You’re going to have to wait a little out here, okay? Kevin’s father’s helping us start the car.”

She thought about it for a moment: Neil expected a fight, not wanting to be around Kevin, not wanting to stand outside in the cold and the dark. Instead, she merely said “Okay!” and shuffled out of the car feet-first. Neil watched as Kevin didn’t move from where he stood, even as she approached. 

Odd. 

Andrew swerved his car up as Neil unloaded his cables - its sleek exterior and leather lining screaming pretentiousness. Neil sat behind the wheel after they’d connected their engines. 

“Feel free to electrocute yourself any time.” Neil offered, before starting the car.  It revved to life with a rather guttural screech of protest. 

“Missed opportunity.” Andrew agreed. “Then I wouldn’t have to stand the sight of you any longer.”

“You offered to help.”

“Technicalities.” Andrew leaned his elbows onto the rolled-down window sill of . Neil’s car. “You owe me, Josten.”

“Thanks.” He gestured to his engine. “For that.” 

Andrew cleared his throat. “Don’t make a habit out of it.”

Neil almost smiled, rubbing the twitch at the corners of his lips away with his hand. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Bye, Kevin.” Robin waved to Andrew’s son as they drove away. 

“What’s that about?” Neil eyed her in the rear-view mirror. 

His daughter wriggled suspiciously, cheeks pinked. “Nothing.” 

Neil huffed. Surely a daughter of his would be better at lying than that. 

It was between seasons: He usually did team reviews so that new kids could try out and get onto the waiting lists for the fall season next September: Then he’d form a team of those new-comers to practise together throughout the spring season, occasionally versing his league teams as practise. Right now, he was watching a bunch of kids scrimmage and cause an absolute ruckus of themselves: He always let them have a free-for-all at the end of tryouts, to work off the stress and anxiety that being tested always granted.

Parents were no longer watching avidly in the stands, instead, mingling with one another.

Neil bashed his fist against the plexiglass, waving them off the court. They filed off sullenly, packing up their things and saying goodbye to one another as they sipped on water bottles and snacked on fruits and granola bars.

Robin sidled up to him, smiling through her exhaustion. “So?”

“What.” He said, flatly.

“Can he join?” She pointed to Kevin. “He’s very good. He’s going to be better than me. Because he’s taller. I think.” She frowned.

He frowned. “He can join, if he’d like to.”

“My team?” She bounced excitedly.

He looked at her with veiled exasperation. No, he’d say for the millionth time. Teams were divided up into ages, but Robin was in 1sts, and Kevin would be placed into the newcomer’s team for the next fall season.

“Kevin! Kevin! Neil says you can join.” Robin waved the young boy over, who was aimlessly pushing hair out of his eyes as he untied his shoes. He looked up, sheepish, as he shuffled over. He’d be taller than Neil in the next few years. That wasn’t surprising: Most kids in Neil’s older teams were taller than him.

“I’d like to.” Kevin said. “But I don’t think Dad will let me.”

Neil frowned. “Why?”

“He doesn’t like you.” Kevin pouted. “Because apparently you’re an idiot.”

Neil glowered. “Is he picking you up tonight, Kevin?”

Kevin nodded.

That’s how Neil found himself marching over to Andrew Minyard’s sleek, black sport’s car, rapping harshly on the tinted glass with Kevin cowering a few feet away, and an angry little Robin at Neil’s elbow.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” The sarcastic drawl of Andrew’s voice made the hair at the back Neil’s neck stand. He felt his fingers curl against the smooth leather, hoping that his fingers scratched the stupid car and left some sort of mark on the arrogant bastard’s materialistic pride and joy.

“Whatever problem you have with me,” Neil snapped. “It’s entirely unjust to not let Kevin join the activity he wants to because of it. Grow up, pull your head out of your ass, and think about what’s the best for your child.”

Andrew gazed at him coldly and said nothing. Kevin scrambled into his father’s car, curled into the corner furthest from Neil, behind his dad.

Neil stood back, letting Andrew wind up the window. He watched as the car left.

“Will he let Kevin join the team?” Robin worried at her bottom lip with her teeth. Neil took her tiny hand in his own.

“I don’t know, Robin.” He said truthfully.

It had Andrew frothing with anger. How dare he tell Andrew what was best for his own damned kid. Like he was a better parent than Andrew, like he had more experience, like he wasn’t just as fucked up and terrified of making his own kid’s childhood hellish and continuing the cycle of abuse.

Andrew had never forbade Kevin from playing exy in the first place!

Asshole. Fuck him. Fuck him!

“Andrew, seriously. Just fuck him.” Nicky examined his nails, tutting at how he’d already chipped his manicure. “Your anger is clearly just pent-up sexual tension. When was the last time you had sex?”

“Gross.” Aaron complained through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Fuck you.” Andrew grumbled, sinking lower into his chair. It was Tuesday night, Family night, where Aaron left his white-picket-fence and perfect wife, and Nicky spent his night off. They usually did it at Nicky’s apartment, but he was in the middle of packing up to move into his boyfriend’s apartment.

Kevin was fast-asleep upstairs, having worn himself out playing that stupid sport. It might be good for him to join a team sport, Andrew considered. It would also mean he’d go to sleep easier, if he was tired. There was nothing stopping him from joining the team, except maybe Andrew had made his opinion of Neil Josten too obvious, and then Kevin had gone talking, and now he had Neil-Too-Hot-For-His-Own-Fucking-Good-Josten barking up his ass about parenting.

Fucking hell.

“He does sound like a massive asshole, though.” Nicky winked at him. “Though I’m not the one attracted to smart-mouths.”

“Fuck off, Nicky.”

“I’m trying to watch the game, here.” Aaron said, only mildly irritated. “Nicky, shut your damned mouth. Andrew, stop being such a hypocrite. Kevin, are you okay?”

Andrew shot up to look at his son, who had covertly snuck down the stairs from his room. He had a small fox plushie in his arms, his hair a wild mess. Andrew would need to cut it again soon.

“Sorry, Dad.” He curled his shoulders in. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Andrew stood immediately, ignoring Nicky as he stage whispered “God, I still can’t get over how cute that is.” He took Kevin into the kitchen and sat him on a barstool, getting cocoa out of the cupboard and milk from the fridge. Luckily, Kevin liked no sugar in his, so it wouldn’t keep him up any longer than necessary.

“Nightmare?”

Kevin shook his head.

Andrew leaned onto the counter opposite him. “Kevin, is this about Robin Josten’s father?”

“Why don’t you like him?” Kevin burst out. “I really want to play exy, and I know that there are other teams than Robin’s team, but I liked playing with Robin, and there are other kids from school on the team, but you don’t like him, so -”

“Kevin.” Andrew said, calmly. “You can join Robin’s team. I would never stop you from doing so. It’s the most localised team anyway, and they’re very good.”

“But why don’t you like Coach Josten?” Coach Josten, oh my god. Andrew had a sudden, inappropriate mental image of Neil Josten in small running shorts and a low-cut tank top. Jesus Christ.

“When you and Robin were fighting at school, her father and I weren’t very friendly to one another.” Andrew put his entwined hands under his chin. “I just wanted to protect you from someone who was being mean to you. But if you and Robin are friends, I’ll try and get along with her father for you.”

Kevin sipped on his hot cocoa. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Andrew stood up. “Okay. Good. Did Robin’s father say how to apply for the team?”

“His name is Neil.” Kevin supplied, unhelpfully.

“Right.” Andrew said, drily. “Fantastic.”

So much for avoiding the fucker.

The South Carolina Exy League, who had ordained Neil as the Exy junior’s coach, owned Columbia’s court and had provided him with a small office on the second floor of the facility. It was a really nice court, which was well-kept, the expenditures mostly from the adult’s league. Neil’s office was just as well-kept, though that was out of his own pocket. It meant the funds for the kids’ teams could be kept to the minimum, so he didn’t mind.

Usually people knocked at his door when it was closed, so when the door banged open, Neil was already expecting the worst.

Andrew threw the application papers onto Neil’s desk. The suit blazer was tight across broad shoulders, and everything about him screamed expensive, down to the shine of his shoes. He must have presented in court.

“Fuck my son around and I’ll kill you.” Andrew warned. “Don’t tell me how to fucking parent, either.”

Neil huffed. “Fabulous impression that you’re giving off here.”

He pointed at Neil. “Don’t test me.” The door slammed behind him.

Well. That was that.

“Of what?” He glanced at him. He was dressed casually, a sweater over a button-down, skinny jeans, boots. He always was well dressed, Neil acknowledge.

“Being looked down at. Being gossiped about. Dealing with prejudice. Young, single parenting. All of it.”

Neil shrugged. “It gets easier to ignore after a while. My coaching fees are much less than other local teams, I’m equitable, I don’t take shit. Parents who can’t wrap their heads around that can fuck off.”

“What comes after the neophyte team?” Andrew nodded towards the other children.

“I sort them into A League, B League or C League, depending on what they can handle.” Neil rose a single eyebrow. “Are you trying to be nice to me so that Kevin can get into the A team? It wont work. I don’t take bribery.”

“I don’t give a fuck where you put him, so long as it’s just. Besides, I know he’ll get into the A’s. He’s a stubborn little shit.” Andrew said. “Maybe I promised my son I’d get along with you, because he’s friends with your daughter now.”

Neil snorted. He was right about Kevin: The kid worked harder than any of them. “How decent of you.”

For a moment, they remained in comfortable silence, until Andrew asked: “What’s your sob story?”

“Mine, or Robin’s?” Neil bit his lip. “Because everyone already knows my sob story. Or did you forget that I’m a crime-lord’s son?”

Andrew was unimpressed.

Neil shrugged. “Kidnapper’s van crashed outside of my old place. Rescued Robin from within. Haven’t let her go since.” He took Andrew’s beer for a sip, which gained him an even more unimpressed glare. “Yours?”

“Not as tragic as yours.” Andrew stole his beer back. “My old exy coach’s heart gave out. He was too sick to look after him. Carted Kevin off to me, for some reason.”

“Good of you to take him in.” Neil offered.

“Good of you to take a foster kid out of the system.” Andrew returned.

They’d reached a comfortable level of appreciation. Neil didn’t realise how easy it was to just talk to him, until the evening was close to finishing and they’d spent the entire time chatting.

As Neil and Robin walked back to their car, Robin tugged on his hand. He looked down at her.

“You seem very happy.” She skipped along beside him. “Did you have too much adult juice? Should you be driving?”

“I didn’t have any, sweetheart.” Neil promised, mildly amused.

Was it that noticeable?

How odd.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Allison narrowed her eyes. “Do you like him?”

They sat opposite each other at Sweeties, Jeremy, Laila and Robin crammed next to each other and playing a badly set-up chess with salt and pepper shakers they’d stolen from other tables.

“What?” Neil stammered, immediately flustered. “No!”

"First you’re yelling about him, cursing him, mouthing off about his clothes and his pretentious job and car and his nerdy son. Now you wont shut up about how he hangs around at practise, and you talk about everything and anything, and you’ve offered to take Kevin to games, and he’s offered to take Robin to school. Look at you! Moon eyes, pink cheeks. You’ve fallen head-over-heels for him!” Allison cackled, clapping loudly and drawing the attention from other tables.

Thank god that the kids always ignored them. Neil spluttered, shoving her hands away as she wiggled her fingers at him teasingly. “I do not.”

“Oh, it’s so romantic.” She cooed. “Two single fathers, too busy because of their jobs to find partners, connecting through their kids bullying each other! How dreamy.”

“Fuck off, Allison.” He muttered into his coffee. Then he slammed it onto the table. “No, no. I’ve never been attracted to guys, I’ve never been attracted to anyone, period. I’m too busy, Robin needs me, I - no!” He lowered his voice even further. “He’s probably, like, 35!”

“You’re in denial, boy.” She sung. “He’s only 25.”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I’ve researched the shit out of him?” Allison said, with the tone of duh? as she twirled hair around her finger. “You’ve both got tragic pasts, with young kids, obsessed with your careers; you’re the perfect age and height for each other - I’m floored you haven’t already got with the man yet, Neil. Honestly.”

“This conversation is over.” Neil demanded 

Allison simply put her sunglasses on, despite being inside. “Whatever. You’ll thank me for enlightening you soon enough.”

Unknown Number: Your pestering friend has taken up all Renee’s time. 

Neil frowned at his phone. Sorry, who is this?

Andrew. 

N: ah. right. hello. 

A: What’s the blond solicitor’s name? Annie?

N: allison. how do you know renee? 

A: Kevin is friends with Bee and Abby.

N: for a moment there I thought you had managed a social life outside of your child. shame. 

A: Fuck off.

A: Also, you can’t talk. 

N: ik, ik

N: thank u for enlightening me about this. they met at the show-your-parent-around-school evening. i didn’t think anything would come of it and allison’s a sneaky lil bitch for hiding it from me.

A: Renee likewise. 

A: Might as well take advantage of it, shouldn’t we?

N: hm?

A: Do you want to grab dinner sometime, yes or no. 

N: sure. might catch them whilst they think they’re clever :D 

A: If you make me regret this, you’re paying. I’ll get you at 7 o’clock, Friday evening. 

N: i’ll be on my best behaviour

I KNOW THIS WAS SHORT BUT i promise i will make up for it

:)