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“Matt's love language is definitely Acts of Devotion. Once he wrote me a song and played it for me after he took me to the beach. No singing though, thank God.” Dan said.
She was laying on her back on the floor of the girl's dorm in a circle made of herself, Renee, Allison and Neil. Luckily, Renee had invested in a large round carpet that kept the cheap, prickly dorm floor off their backs. The door was cracked open, held there with a book while they waited for Nicky to swing by with their takeout order.
Neil had joined the “Girl’s Night” at Dan's request and they were waiting for their nails to dry before they started the next round of the Mario Kart tournament.
“Physical Touch.” Allison said, and although they were all staring at the chipped popcorn ceiling, they could hear her lecherous smile.
“No,” Renee corrected, “You are Acts of Devotion.”
“You're what, Words of Affirmation?” Dan asked, her hand flashing in Neil's peripheral vision as she pointed in the direction of Renee's voice.
“Physical Touch.” Allison said.
Renee laughed, “Yes!”
“I'm definitely Words of Affirmation.” Dan said.
“What about you, Neil?”
“Uh.”
“Oh, he's Quality Time.” Allison snorted. There were murmurs of agreement and Neil shrugged, satisfied to let them decide for him. He didn't know, honestly, just like he didn't know how the topic of love languages had come up at all and why they thought it was important to take some sort of quiz to figure it out.
Neil knew he'd loved his mother and he'd spent every moment with her, but there was little affection traded between them on the run besides swapping bullets, stitching wounds and whatever acting was needed to maintain their identities. Affection and love were things they hadn't had time for.
But Andrew?
He supposed he loved Andrew. They spent most of their time together, which is how he assumed the girls figured his love language was Quality time. And yet, he'd given Andrew the money to replace his car; would that be considered a gift? But they weren't… doing whatever it was they were doing at the time. They hadn't been together.
“Earth to Josten, come in Josten!” Renee laughed and he felt her poke his side.
“I asked about the monster.” Allison said, impatient.
“Don't call him that.” Neil said reflexively. “And he doesn't have one.”
“What do you mean?” Dan asked. He heard her sit up and shifted to match, keeping his hands carefully aloft to avoid smudging the pearlescent black lacquer on his fingers.
“Andrew doesn't love me,” Neil said simply, “So if he has a love language, I don't know it.”
“Oh, honey.” Allison drawled, “You don't actually believe him when he says he hates you, do you?”
“Andrew never lies.” Neil said.
“That's- that's sad.” Dan said, although the words came out stilted.
“It's not.” Neil said, shrugging, “I'll take whatever he’s willing to give. He's enough just the way he is.”
“Do you love him?” Allison asked. Neil expected there to be disgust or animosity in her tone, but there was nothing but mild, almost concerned, curiosity as she smoothly sat up, scooting around to face them gracefully.
“I-” Neil looked at each of the women surrounding him, reassuring himself that these people with their soft, earnest expressions would never try to use the information against him.
They were family.
“I do. I don't have a lot of experience but-” He paused, unsure of how to explain the intense feeling that swelled up under his breastbone at the thought of Andrew. Of how he made his feet into lead at the same time as making him feel like he could fly.
“I think we're set,” Renee announced, cleaning changing the subject. “Let's do Rainbow Road.”
“You're supposed to love me!” Allison cried, snatching up her controller, “Why would you hurt me like this.”
Renee set a comforting hand on Neil's knee as she shifted to face the television, understanding etched into the gentle smile on her lips. She settled in close on his right, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, a warm line all the way up his body. Dan plopped herself on his other side, sandwiching him between them.
Three tournaments later, of which Renee was the ultimate winner, Neil returned to his dorm to find Andrew sitting at the kitchen counter, a white clothing box in front of him. As always, Neil’s face broke automatically into a smile at the sight of him, especially when he saw that Andrew had stolen his Foxes hoodie. The overlong sleeves covered his fingers where he was holding a steaming mug. He reached out and nudged a second mug towards Neil, lining it up with the box on the countertop.
“Perfect timing.” Neil said, toeing off his shoes and padding over.
“Allison’s banshee screech goes through walls.”
“Renee got her with a shell right before the finish line.” He said, taking a grateful sip of coffee. It was just a touch too hot and he could feel it walking the line between warming and burning as it slid down his throat. The tower’s hallways were horribly cold, especially in the winter, and he hadn’t realized how long he’d loitered in the hall, making plans for brunch with the girls before walking back. The cold always made the scars on his hands ache and he flipped them over, pressing them to his mug, allowing the warmth to loosen the overtight skin.
“Open it.” Andrew said, nudging the box forward with the tip of his finger.
Neil lifted his eyebrows and set his coffee aside to carefully lift the lid and flick aside the tissue paper. Inside there was a thick, black cable knit sweater. He lifted it from the box, running his fingers over the intricate pattern, surprised. , He’d been expecting another Eden’s outfit, not a high quality sweater, which was exactly what he needed as cold weather descended on campus.
“Thank you,” Neil said, finally looking up, “Where are we going?”
“Going.” Andrew said. Neil blinked, and looked back down at the sweater for a moment as he was consumed with the distinct feeling that he was missing something.
“Are we-? Is there an event? This is way too fancy for Eden’s.”
“It’s not for anything.” Andrew said, his eyebrows dipping momentarily, “It’s just a gift.”
Neil shrugged the sweater on over his T-shirt, unsurprised at the perfect fit. But his birthday wasn’t for months, as was Christmas. He couldn’t think of a reason for it.
“If you think any harder you’re going to hurt yourself.” Andrew huffed.
“Ha ha,” Neil snarked, reclaiming his mug, “Yes or no.”
Andrew regarded him for a moment, clearly eyeing the fit of the sweater of his chest and arms. “Yes.”
Neil smiled and stepped around the counter to press a dry kiss to Andrew’s lips. “Thank you, I like it.”
Andrew tangled a hand in the front of the sweater, his thumb sweeping over the thick pattern before pulling Neil back in.
The sweater ended up on the floor.
Their night practices continued in the off season with the same frantic pace as before. Neil and Kevin wore themselves ragged on the court, playing one v. one v. Andrew. The night was drawing to a close and both Kevin and Neil had managed to score on Andrew. But even Kevin was starting to flag and he called them to a stop with a cut of his hand through the air, ripping his helmet off and panting for breath.
“Enough, you little shit.” He gasped.
“Getting slow, Day.” Neil wheezed back, letting his legs fold beneath himself.
Kevin glared and stumbled around him towards the locker room without replying.
“Let’s go, junkie.”
Neil accepted Andrew’s hand to pull him to his feet, allowing him to lean heavily while his legs solidified underneath him. Neil started forward, but Andrew held fast, starting straight ahead at the open court door instead of Neil's confused face.
“You scored on me tonight.” He said. Neil waited, knowing from the bobbing of his Adam’s apple that he wasn’t finished, “Good job.”
“Thank you.” Neil said immediately, grinning, “Must have put you through your paces to get praise.”
Andrew’s teeth nearly audibly ground together as he released Neil. “You smell.”
Neil laughed again, knocking his shoulder against Andrew’s, exhaustion forgotten in the face of their conversation.
“Wanna save some water?” He asked, spinning to walk backwards in front of Andrew.
He looked at Neil from head to foot, taking in his sweat soaked hair, the pleased grin on his face and the flush on his cheeks and rolled his eyes.
“Yes.”
Neil stumbled through the door of the dorm after his last winter final more tired than he could remember being in months. He’d pulled multiple all-nighters, plowing through textbook after textbook, making Andrew quiz him on every last inch of the study guides until he’d fallen asleep to the sound of Andrew’s even, calm voice rumbling through the mattress.
“Let’s go.”
Neil blinked, arms reflexively wrapping around the duffel bag that was tossed at his chest. He slung it up and over his shoulder, stepping back to let Andrew sweep silently out of the dorm before him. It was only when he turned that Neil spotted the note, made of torn notebook paper excessively duck taped to the door.
Leave us alone unless someone is actively dying. It was written in Andrew's picture perfect cursive in bright red ink and he found a copy of the note on the outside when he locked it behind them. Andrew was waiting in the elevator, his foot holding the door open.
“Hurry it up, Cottontail.”
Neil hurried the last few feet into the elevator, smiling as his initial confusion evaporated like the fog outside. Andrew has his own bag gripped in his left hand, he used his right to reel Neil in by the lapel of his coat.
“Yes.” Neil said, speaking just as Andrew opened his mouth. He lifted a golden eyebrow but said nothing as he leaned into Neil's space to press a kiss to the base of his neck. It was a simple press of his lips, but Neil shivered anyway. The elevator door dinged open and Andrew stepped away, leeching the warmth from the space as the doors revealed Nicky standing on the other side.
“Leaving already?” He said, a mock pout on his face. Andrew took a single step forward and Nicky moved aside, extending his arm as if to escort them. “Alright, alright. Have fun, lovebirds!” He winked, but his smile was warm and genuine.
“See you later, Nicky.” Neil said, returning the smile.
“Remember-” Andrew said, holding the door open for Neil, but Nicky put his hands up in a pacifying move, stepping into the elevator.
“Not unless someone is actively dying.” Nicky sang, “Gotcha. Don't worry.”
“Where are we going?” Neil asked.
“Away.” Andrew said, not bothering to turn towards him as he took Neil’s bag and tossed it in the trunk of the Maserati, “Don’t worry your little junkie heart, we’ll be back by Wednesday.”
“Okay.” Neil said. He settled in the passenger seat and stretched out, turning so he could watch Andrew drive. He was hit with a wave of exhaustion as soon as he clipped his seat-belt, yawning so widely that he cracked his jaw.
“You can sleep,” Andrew said as he pulled out of the parking lot, “It'll be a while.”
“Okay,” Neil said, and let the hum of the engine sing him to sleep.
“Abram.”
Neil was awake in an instant, sitting up to find that his seat had been fully reclined sometime during the trip. A glance at the clock revealed that seven hours had passed, and he realized he hadn't woken even once on the ride, even though they must have stopped for gas.
The Maserati's headlights we're shining on a small yellow cottage and a quick glance around revealed they were somewhere in the mountains, at the top of what must have been a hill, judging by the incline of the car. Night had fallen and besides towering trees, there wasn't much to see.
“Are we here?” Neil said, idly wiping the chalky feeling from his mouth with the water bottle Andrew handed him.
“Yes.” He said.
They climbed out and Neil grabbed both of their bags, earning an eye roll from Andrew. He pulled the key from his wallet and opened the bright red front door, kicking aside the newspaper on the stoop before tossing his keys blindly into the living room to his right.
Andrew swerved left and flicked on the lights, revealing the full luxury of the home. Warm hardwood ran from the bright, modern kitchen, across the entry hall and to the living room to the left and wrapped up and around the set of curved stairs that apparently lead to a loft facing East.
There was a small table with a large, decorative glass bowl to the right of the door and as Neil moved to drop off his keys inside, he spotted a note posted on the mirror hanging above the it in what could only be Allison's sprawling cursive.
“We're even. Don't burn it down.”
Andrew was still in the kitchen and when Neil peaked inside, pulling out the ingredients for some sort of pasta.
“Stop staring and go take a shower,” Andrew said. He didn't look up as he pulled the plastic wrap off a pound of ground beef, plopping it in a glass bowl.
Neil nodded, knowing that he was seen and trotted up to the master bathroom.
It was easily as big as their entire dorm. Covered in windows that opened out to the darkness of the forest behind the cabin with a huge shower in one corner and a deep, jacuzzi style tub in the other. The thought of a bath was tempting, especially as he found a stash of Epsom salts under the sink, but he knew he'd fall asleep if he tried it. Instead he hopped into the shower, scalding away the day and the car ride and scrubbing himself down with the woodsy smelling scrubs he found.
By the time he made his way downstairs, Andrew was pouring a second glass of wine at the breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen. Again, it was bordered by tall windows, but there was nothing to be seen except the sliver of the moon as she peaked out at them from behind the clouds.
“Fancy.” Neil said, sitting when Andrew gestured to the table. He scooted in, placing himself before one of the empty plates, which Andrew then took and returned full of pasta and garlic bread. It smelt amazing and with a growl from his stomach, he realized that he was starving.
“Benefits of having wealthy debtors.” Andrew said.
Neil huffed a laugh and Andrew lifted his eyes from his plate to look. Neil, with his red hair darkened to crimson with water and the flush from its heat still on his cheeks. Stupid, infuriatingly beautiful Neil with his bright blue eyes wrinkled in a smile so soft that it made Andrew's treacherous heart leap.
“It's nice,” Neil said, he rested his had on his hand, the other wrapped around his wine glass, “Being alone with you for a change.”
“Greedy.”
“Never said I wasn't.” Neil shrugged.
“Quality time,” Andrew snorted, washing down a bite of bread with wine. It stained his lips deep red, and Neil figured he couldn’t be faulted for staring. It was only a moment later that he registered what he’d said.
“Plus, Kevin will come looking for you tonight and have a bitch fit.” Andrew continued, either ignorant of, or ignoring the look of shocked awe dawning across Neil’s face.
Andrew had been listening.
He’d heard his conversation with the the girls.
And yet?
Neil thought of the sweater, and the scarf and gloves Andrew later got him to match. He thought about Andrew’s stilted, unusual praise after night practice and the steakhouse dinner that happened the next day. He thought about the foot massage he’d received after his last run and the warmth of Andrew’s hands as they had eventually begun to inch their way up, yes after yes, until they’d retreated to the bedroom for fear of discovery.
And of course, of where they were now, at a luxury cabin somewhere in the mountains. A weekend that Andrew had cashed in on one of his treasured debts to provide. There was the dinner and the wine, and as he thought about it, the epsom salts in his favorite scent under the tub.
“Acts of Devotion.” Neil blurted. Then, immediately panicked as Andrew’s expression evaporated from his face. “You-” He swallowed, heart thundering in his chest. Had he misjudged? Andrew was acting like he knew. Did he know? Unconsciously, his eyes flicked to the door. Calculating how fast he could get there if he really tried, if he wasn’t welded to his seat by the intensity of Andrew’s gaze.
“If you were any denser, light would bend around you.” Andrew said, bringing his wine glass to his lips. He maintained eye contact with Neil for the entirety of the movement, even as Neil’s eyes flashed down to watch the bob of his adam’s apple.
“I-” Neil started, but Andrew cut him off.
“Yes or no.”
“Yes,” Neil said, relief causing him to thunk his own glass to the table harder than he meant to. Wine jumped from his glass, spilling across his hand, but before he could move to wipe it off, Andrew reached out and brought his finger to his lips and sucked the ten year old vintage from Neil’s scared knuckle.
Andrew stood and Neil automatically followed until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, Andrew standing above him.
“I may never say it.” He said.
“I don’t care.” Neil said, “I meant it, what I said.”
“I know what you said.”
“You’re enough,” Neil repeated, “Just the way you are.”
“You are not Quality Time ,” Andrew said, as if the words disgusted him, “You, with your lying mouth, are Words of Affirmation.” Andrew crawled over Neil, holding himself aloft. He remembered then, with piercing clarity, the words that he chose so carefully when he was convinced that he would never see Andrew again. ( Thank you, you were amazing ) And he knew, in his bones, that’s exactly what Andrew was thinking of as well.
“I meant it.” Neil said, he reached up, framing Andrew’s face between his hands, hovering them just above his skin.
“Obviously, martyr, and you will never say those words again.”
“Deal.” Neil said.
Andrew sealed it with a kiss.