okay but like Neilâs face is pretty messed up after Baltimore, and especially during those few weeks afterwards it had to have hurt to like, make facial expressions????? thoughts??
tbh this is such an interesting idea! like i think the book vaguely mentions it hurting a little bit when he and andrew kiss but like... hereâs some thoughts
somehow neilâs life is filled with people protecting him, and it hurts
hurts to know that he thought he was going to leave these people who love him
hurts to know that they would spread silly rumors to protect him from questions
hurts to know that he loves the life his mother would have loathed for him
but mostly it hurts to smile
which heâs been doing a lot of latelyÂ
(andrew being a catalyst at least half the time)
neilâs face is stiff and taught and to others he has the stare of a serial killer (thanks to nathanâs genetics)
and when dan and matt jump in or andrew gives him the look or kevin makes a particularly good goal at night practice neil canât help but smile
a concept he once held at arms length, even before running with his mother, has become to common place
but the ache in his face anytime his mouth curves upwards is worth it
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drabble for @nwesninski, who requested an urban fantasy au - i hope you enjoy this vicious inspired au!! || want one?
On the worst day of Neilâs life, Andrew dies.
Surprisingly enough, this is not what makes it the worst day. It had qualified long before Andrew falls to Neilâs feet, long before heâd faced his family for the last time. It had started staring down the barrel of a gun and it seemed it would end the same way.
Neil doesnât even bat an eyelid at the body at his feet. It didnât change anything. He was going to die here; heâd known it all along. It would be at his fatherâs hand, as slow as Nathan could make himself go. Neil wouldnât give him the satisfaction of his pain. He clenches his jaw and says, âYou got the wrong one.â
Nathan laughs, sharp and loud, but before he can say anything, Andrew sits up.
At that, Neilâs mouth hangs a little agape. Andrew is red with both his and Neilâs blood, sat in a pool of it, bullet holes riddling his shirt.
âAndrew?â Neil says, suddenly crouching to pull Andrew up.
Andrew accepts Neilâs hand, sticky with blood, and pulls himself up with surprising sturdiness. âYour father is a useless shot.â
Laughter bubbles up in Neilâs chest, sudden and almost choking.
Bang. Andrewâs body jerks with the force of a bullet.
Bang. Neil watches a second bullet land on Andrewâs chest, a fatal shot, surely - but no new blood appears.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Shots sound as Nathan steps closer to the duo, and Neil notices crushed bullets land at Andrewâs feet.
âLooks like youâre going to need stronger bullets, Nathan,â Andrew drawls, never one to be fazed by the impossible.
Andrew turns, shrugging Neilâs hands off him, and stands squarely between Neil and his father.
âWhat game is this?â Nathan growls.
âItâs a new one,â Andrew says, pushing Neil back. âThis will be fun. How many bullets do you have left? Will it be enough to get through? I donât think it will.â
âWhat did you do?â
âOh, I think itâs what you did,â Andrew says, then strikes, knocking the gun out of Nathanâs hands.
Neil blinks and Andrew has handled Nathan and his crew. It must have taken longer, but Neil couldnât say for certain. He doesnât know what Andrew is capable of beyond bulletproof skin.
When Neil is certain Andrewâs done, he approaches him and reaches a hand out slowly to his face. âWhat happened?â He wonders aloud, running a hand down Andrewâs cheek - it feels the same under the layers of blood.
âI think I died,â Andrew replies, matter-of-fact.
The breath catches in Neilâs chest. âI thought so, too. But youâre here.â
Andrew gives him a hard look.
âThis isnât linked to your research project,â Neil says. âYour theory about superheroes.â
âEOs,â Andrew corrects blandly.
âSo, what, you died and came back with special powers? A gift from God?â
âMore like a gift from biology,â Andrew replies.
âYeah, sure.â
âHow else would you explain the fact that six bullets bounced harmlessly off my skin?â
Neil opens his mouth for a second, then shrugs. The human body may be capable of many extraordinary things when under stress, this he knows, but he doesnât think defying death quite this literally is among those. âDoes this mean youâre a zombie now?â
Andrew considers that. âTechnically.â
Neil sighs. âI really thought that if my dad was gone, my life could go back to normal.â
âYour life has never been normal,â Andrew says. âCome on, Iâm sure the Feds would love to get their hands on these bodies.â
âCome on, Neil,â Neil replies tiredly. âJust get over the fact that Iâm a superhero now and your family is dead, weâve got to move on.â
âExactly,â Andrew says, already climbing the stairs.
âDonât you think this gives you an unfair advantage against Renee?â
âThere are no rules in sparring.â
âWho brings bulletproof skin to a knife fight?â
this is my commission for @cabeswaterlovesthem for @tfcfansgive! hope you guys all enjoy some fluffy lailalvarez, and donât forget to check the compilation zine which will come out july 11th!
âI was meant to have a week to stop thinking about her,â Laila groans, throwing herself onto Cheyâs bed.
âBut instead you figured out you have the hots for her,â Chey replies with no small amount of smugness, though she does submit to stroking Lailaâs hair.
âNo! Itâs not like that.â
âIsnât it?â
Laila bites her lip. âIt might be a little bit like that. But sheâs a dick! Just âcause I like her stupid hair doesnât mean I like her.â
âKinda seems like it does,â Chey says musingly.
âAll I really know about her is that sheâs a good backliner and sheâs kinda funny, I guess, when itâs not directed against me.â
âAnd that she has great hair.â
âAnd face and eyes and- sheâs very pretty, I can admit that, Iâm not too petty to admit that.â Laila groans, realising the mocking thoughts in her head sound remarkably like Alvarezâs voice, little hints of a more Southern accent than her own bleeding through. âHow weird would it be if I added her on Facebook mid-spring break to find out if sheâs actually a prick to everyone or just me?â
âVery weird,â Chey says, plucking Lailaâs phone from her hand.
happy birthday to the loml @kickfoxingâ; enjoy this cute fluffy lailalvarez nonsense <3
The windowâs small, but the view is good. That had been the final selling point. Of all the shitty apartments in so many towns that were roughly halfway between the two biggest cities in the state, this was the first apartment that didnât scream Iâm buying this because I donât have another choice.
Neither Laila nor Alvarez had wanted a big apartment. Now wasnât forever and it just wasnât wise to spend all their savings on a wonderful place now when for the next ten years, theyâd be travelling across the country and the world and staying in hotels- no. What they needed was a place they could be with each other, and the promise of a peaceful future where they can do whatever they want.
(That had been the deal - decided in their third year at USC, their second year as a couple - that theyâd save. For years and years. They liked Exy, but it wasnât their life; it was a career, and it was a short-lived one. Theyâll enjoy the years they have but itâs all working towards the end: retirement.)
(Theyâd planned all their travels and the animals theyâd adopt by the time theyâd graduated.)
But they still have to live in the apartment, so theyâd wanted something that could feel like a home. Some place they could enjoy coming home too, and not just for the company that awaited them. This apartment is on the outskirts of the town, far away from the bus station, and itâs small but itâs open. There are only small windows for the light to come in through, but it does come in. It feels like once itâs full of their furniture and other belongings, it could be warm and inviting.
So on their first day, before theyâve even unloaded the few things theyâd driven up with rather than putting in the moving trucks, Laila tangles her fingers in Alvarezâs, and they run up the stairs giggling like theyâll never stop.
âGod, itâs cold out. I vote we just get the mattress and leave everything else until tomorrow,â Laila says, aiming a grin at Alvarez and tugging her from room to room as though theyâve never seen the place before. Itâs bare wood and unfurnished, but the sheer fact that they had the keys to let it on makes the dim light sneaking its way past drawn curtains beautiful.
âYouâve lived in California for too long,â Alvarez tuts, pulling Laila to a stop for just long enough to open curtains in every room they pass. (Sheâd do this in every room at college too - everything looks better in natural light, Lails.) âYou donât know the meaning of the word âcoldâ.â
Laila rolls her eyes but doesnât reply, ignoring the long-worn discussion in favour of running her free hand along white walls. âWe did it,â she whispers reverently.
âNot yet,â Alvarez says. âWe definitely need to get our bags and mattress up here before we start rewarding ourselves.â
âKilljoy,â Laila says, pulling a face.
âYou say that now, but you have no idea of the rewards I have planned,â Alvarez says, a smile as bright as the sun gracing her face.
âThere she is,â Laila mutters with a soft smile, pinching the cheek where Alvarezâs one dimple shows up. âOh, so it wouldnât be the bottle of champagne you so sneakily stuck in your backpack at the last minute?â
âOkay, so maybe you do have an ideaâŚâ Alvarez says, her grin unwavering. âYou need to stop ruining all of my cute surprises.â
âIâm nosy,â Laila shrugs. âItâs a flaw, but Iâve learned to embrace even my worst parts.â
âHush, you perfect creature,â Alvarez says. âLetâs grab the things.â
âYou just flatter me to get me to use my perfect biceps,â Laila groans, but lets Alvarez pull her back down four flights of stairs easily.
âYup,â Alvarez agrees cheerfully. âIâm the brains, youâre the brawns.â
âOh, really?â Laila asks. âBecause I seem to remember the small matter of our degreesâŚâ Both of them had graduated just a month prior, with respectable grades, but Lailaâs dedication and passion for her chosen subject had given her the slightest edge over Alvarezâs effortless achievements.
âNope, those are irrelevant now. Done. Gone.â Alvarez claps her hands.
âUm, I donât think so,â Laila says. âI packed mine to put above our bed. Itâs my best achievement.â
âAw, dang. Iâd planned to put both of our degrees together above the toilet.â Alvarez pulls a mockingly concerned face at her girlfriend.
âYou can flush your disappointment, but I am rubbing that degree in everyoneâs faces forever. Iâm putting it as my Facebook header. Iâm gonna text the picture to Ash every day until he admits that Iâm forever superior to him.â
âWell, I hope you have a picture of it ready to go, because the real thing isnât gonna last very long⌠sorry, babe.â
âIf you shred my degree, I will shave your head while you sleep,â Laila says, smile still on her face and voice dripping sugar.
âYou could maybe do half of it. Give me a cool undercut. Iâd wake up because you could do some irreversible damage.â Alvarez pauses for half a second. âProbably.â
Laila laughs, the sound echoing through the stairwell. âNot a chance, girl. You sleep like the dead. These beautiful locks are being sold on the black market so I can buy an exact replica of my degree.â
âCome on, you wouldnât even donate the hair? Whereâs that Trojan heart?â Alvarez gives her a beseeching look, walking backwards out of the blockâs door.
âShredded, along with my degree. Youâre erasing my Trojan identity,â Laila says, clutching a hand dramatically to her chest.
âSure, babe,â Alvarez says. âPut some of that energy into moving our shit upstairs, yeah?â
âFine, but I get the first taste of champagne,â Laila warns, opening the back of their car slowly so as not to disturb the few bags on top of a double mattress.
âSure, as long as itâs-â
âStraight from the bottle. No negotiations.â
âI was gonna say not from the bottle, because thatâs super gross. I bought it!â Alvarez whines.
âWhat are you worried about? My spit? Because newsflash, girlfriend, you get plenty of my germs already.â
âUgh,â Alvarez pulls a face. âNo thanks.â
âNo?â Laila asks, turning back from the car to Alvarez and taking a few steps to place her hands on Alvarezâs waist.
âNope,â Alvarez agrees, brushing a stray bit of hair back behind Lailaâs ear.
âNo kisses?â Laila clarifies, closing the distance between them in one last step that puts her thoroughly in Alvarezâs personal space. Alvarez doesnât move away.
âNope, theyâre completely gross.â
Laila presses a gentle kiss to Alvarezâs jaw, knowing her girlfriendâs weaknesses after all these years. âReally, totally gross?â
âAbsolutely,â Alvarez continues to agree, though Laila hears her breathing hitch, just slightly, the same as always. Laila smiles against Alvarezâs warm, dark skin.
âJustâŚâ Laila says, softly, before meeting Alvarez in a soft, chaste kiss, âdisgusting, right?â
âTotally,â Alvarez says on a sigh.
âOh, well,â Laila says, pulling herself in a swift movement. âCanât say I didnât try. Iâll respect your decision, though, of courseâŚâ
âShut up,â Alvarez laughs, grabbing Lailaâs hand and pulling her back to place a kiss on her nose. âYouâre a beautiful idiot.â
âWell, thatâs not what my degree saysâŚâ
âOh my god,â Alvarez drops her hand. âOkay, yeah, please go back to unpacking and just⌠stop talking.â
âHarsh.â
âYeah, I know, Iâm just like⌠not sure living together is gonna work out? Itâs all so sudden, you know, and I just donât feel like I know who you are⌠youâre just so mean,â Alvarez says, brushing her nose against Lailaâs.
âSure, babe,â Laila responds, and kisses her again.
After they pull apart, Alvarez says, âOkay, I suppose that was alright.â
âYes!â Laila crows, pumping her fists in the air. âChampagne from the bottle for Laila!â
âThat is not-â
âJust let me have this,â Laila says. âIâm unpacking now and Iâm not listening anymore.â
Alvarez sighs. âFine, whatever, you win.â
âAs always.â
âAs always,â Alvarez replies, and they share a soft smile as they head back up to their apartment, and their future.
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Andrewâs eyes were frantic as they search through the crowd. He shoved people aside right left and centre, looking for a single glimpse of that auburn hair, or blue eyes. Theyâre nowhere to be found.
The crowd pushes against him, towards the doors of the court. Theyâre ecstatic, high on the rush of the Trojanâs win. Theyâre unaware of the strife of Andrew, his searching gaze through the crowd, the clench of his fist around his knife. It had been easy enough to slide it from his armband without being noticed, and the crowd paid him no attention.Â
Neil had disappeared at the end of the game, with Ichirou Moriyama on his tail. The crowd had blocked Neil from his view, and Andrew had lost him in seconds. The other Foxes were fanned out around the court, each searching for their missing striker but with no luck.
The crowd thins, and yet neither Neil nor Ichirou and his followers can be seen.Â
Kevin appeared at Andrewâs side, and the tip of Andrewâs knife is pressed to the underside of Kevinâs chin in a second. âWhere is he? What did he tell you?â
Kevin blanched. âNothing.â
âYouâd better not be lying to me, or youâll regret it.â Andrew shoved his hand against Kevinâs chest and pushed past him. âWhich way did he go?â He asked Matt. âYou were the last one with him. Where. Did. He. Go.â
âI donât know. I turned away for one second and he was gone.â The worry in Mattâs face led Andrew to believe that was true, but he resented him for letting Neil get away. He hadnât left a trace, in a typical Neil way. Andrew rolled his eyes. If he ever found Neil, he was going to kill him.
The crowd was gone, leaving nothing but waste in their path. They were nothing but a problem anyway. Only the Foxes and the Trojans remained in the large court, and Neil was nowhere.
Until. Until.
Suddenly Neil is standing at the door to the changing rooms and his eyes locked with Andrewâs. It takes only a few strides until Andrew can reach out to take Neilâs chin, turning his face left and right to examine it thoroughly.Â
âDid they touch you?â
âIâm fine.â
âNeil. Did they hurt you?â
âNo. He wanted assurance that we wouldnât lose next time. He wants his money. He wants me to make Court.â
Andrewâs face tightened at the mention of Court, but only Neil could see that.
âYou donât leave like that. Not ever again.â
âOkay.â
Andrew curled his hand in Neilâs shirt and tugged him closer, so that their foreheads pressed together. Neil was safe. He was okay. He was fine. Andrew slid his knife back into his armband and pushed Neil away. âGo change. You stink of sweat.â
âYour boyfriend isnât here,â Nicky says, almost facetious. Neil assumes heâs referring to the fact that Neil is rarely in their room until the late evening; after classes he and Andrew tend to spend the most time alone. But thatâs not the issue Neil takes with Nickyâs statement.
âHeâs not my boyfriend,â he says, and walks to his desk to start assembling his books.
âOh man, Iâm sick of this,â Nicky says, dramatically rolling his eyes. âIâve heard Andrew say he hates you, or say youâre ânothingâ or whatever, and we all know itâs bullshit.â
Neil almost smiles. âItâs not a lie.â
âOkay, sure, whatever. What would you call it, then? Partners in crime?â
Neil shrugs. Heâs never had to find a word or phrase for what Andrew is to him. It doesnât matter.
âOh, come on, even you have to admit thatâs ridiculous. Heâs your boyfriend. Itâs simple.â
âHeâs not my anything,â Neil replies. Andrew doesnât belong to him.
âTell me,â Nicky pushes. âIf heâs not your boyfriend, what is he?â
Nicky is going to continue pushing it, Neil knows. The best way to get him to stop is to give him an answer, though Neil also knows that giving an answer Nicky doesnât like is just as likely to keep the conversation going. So Neil thinks.
Thereâs no title Neil can give Andrew that would be right. Boyfriend is juvenile, partner is almost too serious, significant other is a mouthful and altogether too formal; and all come with the issue that it would make Andrew into some type of belonging.
And besides, how could all Andrew is be confined to a single word? Heâs home, heâs safety, heâs stability. Heâs everything Neil never knew he needed and the comfort Neil never thought heâd get to feel. Heâs warmth and fire and sparks. There is no word for the multitudes that make Andrew: the intelligence, the strength, the humour; his jagged edges and sharp eyes.Â
Well, there is one word. âHeâs Andrew,â Neil says simply, because that is, and always will be, enough.