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Andrew felt the telltale bubble of discomfort rolling under his skin, rippling down every inch of his body and finding a home in his connective tissue. Neil was looking at him again. Looking at him like that . Like he mattered. Like he wasn’t a mistake waiting to happen. Like he was worth it.
“Andrew.”
“Neil,” he responded cooly. His joints ratcheted together even tighter as he struggled to push in and out his every breath.
“Why are you upset?” Neil asked.
Andrew rolled his eyes. What a stupid question. It was childish, it sounded easy. Implied that there was an answer he could articulate into words and sentences.
Andrew wasn’t upset.
He wasn’t. He was drowning on dry land, Neil's eyes pushing his head even further down into the surf. The weight of his concern was a palpable presence squeezing the air from his lungs and pulling his skin thinner with every passing second.
“I am a waste of your time,” he responded. It wasn’t the full truth. But it was easier than explaining how out of control his mind became when the name Neil Josten ghosted over his train of thought, a whisper in the breeze of his insecurity.
Neil sighed. He stayed where he was sat next to Andrew on the roof of Fox Tower, but Andrew could almost convince himself that he seemed to sway closer with the admission hanging in the air.
“Andrew, I swear, you could break my arm, and it'd probably make my day.”
Andrew scoffed. He didn’t understand why Neil kept him around. Why he kept asking, and taking, and giving, and staying. Andrew was violent. A monster. Neil deserved to leave his broken pieces behind. Andrew wanted to give him that.
“I would stab you before I resorted to breaking your bones rabbit,” Andrew said instead, his voice cold, pointed.
“I mean it in the nicest way ‘Drew. You could take my cast. Sign your name on the tape.” Neil's voice floated up as he spoke, ignoring Andrew's harsh demeanor, an air of amusement coloring his tone. “The autograph’d be worth something. I could sell it on eBay, save the cash.”
Andrew sighed.
“I mean it Junkie. I am not your future.” Andrew stayed staring out at the peach-colored horizon. Soon Neil would have no further reason to associate with broken and bruised Andrew Minyard. Yes, Andrew could admit that he liked Neil. He’d never say it out loud but in the quiet of his own mind, he could confess that Neil was the one bright spot in his life. His safety. His comfort.
But he knew the feeling was not mutual. And Neil deserved better. He deserved more than “ I hate you’s ” and rising percentages and hands clasped on pillows because Andrew couldn’t stand to sleep any closer.
So he closed his eyes and he grit and bared it. Neil let him for a minute, just breathing next to him, likely choosing his words very cautiously. He broke the silence with a quiet confession.
“They say you dont get to pick and choose. Ya know? Who sticks around and who you lose,” he paused, “we both that know that, but I've been begging the world to let me pick this one time.”
Neil ducked his head forward just enough to be able to catch Andrew's eyes. They were a pale blue. Andrew loved them. Like he loved the sky just after it rained.
“And every time? I’m picking you, Andrew.”
Andrew felt like a puppet that just had its strings cut. Neil's words slicing through the tension he held in every corner of his body. He slumped with it, able to relax with Neil there to catch him.
“Neil,” he whispered, reverently, permanently, unable to say anything more.
“I’ll give you my time Andrew, all of it, if you waste it with me,” Neil continued.
Andrew turned his body, leaning into Neil's waiting shoulder, letting his head rest down onto it. Neil shouldered the added weight easily, holding them both up without hesitation.
“In ten years when we’ve got a huge apartment we don’t know how to fill, I’ll sing you your favorite song when you still can’t sleep.”
“You can’t sing,” he whispered. Neil huffed out a laugh. It was a quiet thing, the breath of it ruffling the hair on Andrew's head where it sat still pillowed on Neil's shoulder.
“We wouldn’t need a TV screen. I’d just sit and stare into your eyes, sit back and breathe.”
Andrew scoffed. Of course that was Neil's ideal future.
“Staring? Really?”
Andrew could practically hear the smile in Neil's voice as he continued on, ignoring Andrew's commentary.
“And no one will kiss you like I do,” this sentiment Neil punctuated with a kiss to the crown of Andrew's head. Just the barest brush of lips, but Andrew felt it to the core of his being anyways.
“And we’ll get a bunch of cats. And spoil them a fuck ton but deny that we ever did.”
Andrew hummed. Cats? Really? But if it made Neil happy, he’d allow it. His eyes closed slowly as he settled into Neil’s fantasy.
“And I’ll do shots at Eden’s but only when you ask me to because nothing gets me high like you do.”
Neil leaned into Andrew as he spoke. Settling his head onto Andrews so that sat in a jumbled heap of joints and muscle and care.
They sat for a moment, just breathing in each other. Breathing in a future they could imagine together. The domesticity of living to see another day, another month, another year.
“Do you feel any better?” Neil whispered. Andrew didn’t smile, but it was a close thing.
“Yes, Neil.”
“Good.”
And it was. Good. Andrew still didn’t believe that his presence in Neil’s life was much more than well-deluded self-sabotage but Neil was choosing Andrew. He was spending his time thinking about their future. He was telling Andrew what that looked like that. He was choosing. And who was Andrew to deny a choice like that?
~~~~~~~
They say you don't get to pick and choose
Who sticks around and who you lose
But I'm begging God to let me pick this one time