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would you be my little quarantine?

Summary:

Where Neil is bored during quarantine and make friends with his neighbour.

Or

Where Andrew tries to smoke on his building's fire exit but is always pestered by this cute boy with auburn curls and blue eyes.

Notes:

Hi, promise I'm not going to take much of your time, just had to clarify a few disclaimmers before you guys dive into the reading.
Basically, I'm Brazilian and this fic was originally written in Portuguese. Although I'm taking english classes at college and already had a quite good level of fluency, this still isn't my mother tongue so the translation might not be perfect. So, please, be kind to me (lol). Please, let me know if there's anything I could change to make the text better.
Second, as I said on the tags but it's never said too much, this fic might have a trigger about self harm and past trauma. If you read the books you probably already deal with some triggers, but I don't want anyone having a bad time. It's a small scene where Neil acknowledges Andew's wrist scars and end up also opening up about the ones in his back.
Third, I have no idea on how are the things where you are reading this fic from, but you better take care and use a goddam mask whenever goig out. Wash your hands, too. No one is Andrew Minyard and you can bet they aren't worth gettin sick for.

ENOUGH CHATTERING

Let's dive into the reading!!!!!

Lots of love, Vic

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Two weeks.

Two weeks was the time it took Neil to go completely mad. He could feel the madness climbing up his still feet and slowly reaching his brain, eating away the last functional cells.

He kept walking around the apartment aimlessly and fiddling with kitchen pans when Abby was not around, looking for something to do. Occasionally, he found himself dancing and humming to the loud music from his bedroom wall neighbour. 

When his aimless wanderings began to irritate, David forced him and Kevin to put on masks and run around the neighborhood until they were so exhausted that, after a shower and a hot dinner plate, they wouldn't bother him anymore. After all, you can't irritate someone when you're half dead. 

Kevin wanted to kill him. He never verbalized that, of course, but Neil could see that his foster brother wanted to make him swallow the remote whenever he needed to look away from some Exy match to "expend energy". 

But that's where the problem lies, for Neil, just sitting in front of a TV studying moves was not enough. He wanted to be on the court, with all the gear weighing on his shoulders and the racket swinging violently in an attempt to steal his opponent's ball. He wanted to feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins and the post"game fatigue, when his muscles became useless and heavy, when the day had been so productive that he wouldn't even mind taking a shower in the locker room where all his teammates could see his scars.

He no longer cared about the whitish marks on his back and on his chest. There was a time when Neil couldn't look at his reflection in the mirror without shivering. But the memories of an abusive home healed and closed, leaving behind only thin and pale marks. Now he was with Abby, David and Kevin. They were his family, his home and the only thing he cared about.

Having Abby almost always gone during those bored days was not helping much. Even though there were no confirmed coronavirus cases in the city yet, they had reduced staff and were working longer shifts, what meant that the woman was never home. And for Neil and Kevin’s desperation, whenever she was on duty at the hospital, David Wymack would often try to cook only to end up burning simple dishes like scrambled eggs, make a scene about how the oven wasn’t working and finally order frozen foods and anything else that could be delivered ready at the building's entrance. 

The choice of time had been pizza.

When the intercom rang, Neil and Kevin jostled down the hall toward the door only to be pulled by the collars of their shirts by the man behind them.

"I'll get it," David muttered, passing between the two. “You will put the dishes on the table.”

Bullshit

They never ate at the table when Abby wasn’t there. It was weird to live in that space without her. So Neil and Kevin took the plates and the orange soda to the living room and placed everything on the coffee table. Kev selected a match from their favorite university teams and got it ready to go. 

The two boys sat on separate ends of the larger sofa and kicked each other until they found a position where their feet were not touching. Both remained with their attention on their respective cell phones until Kevin released the most squeaky giggle ever heard in the world. Neil slowly lowered his cell phone until he found his brother with red cheeks and a silly little smile on his face.

“Jean or Jeremy?” Asked him, who knew more than he would like about the other boy’s schemes.

Kevin looked at him looking guilty. Then he closed his smile and just shrugged. What the fuck…. That could mean several things, but if Neil was following all that story right, then: “Both?”

The brother shrugged again.

“H-how?” Asked Neil, his mouth hanging in an O shape.

“We can only say that Mom put sugar on me” replied the boy with a shrug.

"You little bitch," said Neil, receiving a kick in response.

He kicked too, hitting Kevin in the groin and being answered with a pillow flying over his face before they actually caught themselves in the slap. It had always been that way since Neil remembered. Six long years since he was adopted and the two have continued to do the same since they met at the age of ten.

As the front door slammed, David's voice came, too.

“If I get in there and you two happen to be hitting each other again” he threatened, coming from the corridor, “I will put you both to sleep outside.”

As if persuaded with a stun gun, the two walked away, panting and half"pushing.

"Neil started," Kevin accused when his father came into the room with three boxes stacked.

"You little shits," said Wymack, placing the boxes on the coffee table and sitting on the smaller sofa.

Like the addicted maniacs they were, the three watched the game with the same screams and animation as they would have used during a live game. Whenever the Trojans scored a point and they saw the hate-filled looks on the Ravens' faces, the room would tremble with loud celebrations.

Even though it seemed the perfect end of the day that anyone with the least sanity would want, that feeling of dissatisfaction at being locked in the house for too long was still overwhelming.

When the game was over and Kevin called Jeremy and Jean to talk about game strategies and anything else that polyamorous couples talked about, Neil grabbed three slices of bacon mozzarella pizza and a glass of soda and went to his room.

As always, you could hear the muffled sound of loud music coming from the other side of the wall. Neil didn't care. Most of the time, he even found it a good distraction while he played video games or just lay on his bed looking up at the ceiling and contemplating the meaning of life. An existential crisis is always better with a soundtrack.

Even though it was early spring, his room was stuffy, which made him go to the window and open it. The breeze outside hit his face with a very welcome freshness. 

Neil took a deep breath, trying to get as much fresh air as he could. However, all he managed to do was choke on cigarette smoke.

Frowning, he stuck his head out and came across someone sitting on the emergency exit stairs. The figure was a blond boy completely dressed in black. His eyes were closed as he inhaled the smoke from the white tube. Neil took the time to analyze him " the small earring on his ear, his nails painted with peeled black polish and dark steel rings. He looked so relaxed and airy, like he wasn't even in the middle of the end of the world.

"Hi," said Neil, because he thought it was weird to just stand there and watch.

The boy blinked a few times before focusing his golden eyes on Neil, his long blond lashes were like a frame to look at.

"Hi," he replied.

Neil looked inside his own room and then at the boy. It had been so long since he had seen anyone but his family that it was even weird to talk to another human being the same age as him. Maybe that was a delusion and he really was crazy.

Nah.

That boy was too handsome and Neil was not so creative. His grades would be better if he were.

“Can I…?” He asked, pointing to the fire exit.

"We’re in a quarantine," said the boy, circling his free hand in the air and blowing cigarette smoke in spirals.

Neil shrugged. “We are technically not leaving the building then ... What's wrong?”

For a second, the boy looked at Neil as if he were a weird, green goo. Then, he moved more to the side, giving space for one more person to sit there.

Neil put the plate with the two and a half pieces of pizza out along with his glass and wriggled out the window to the space that easily accommodated four people standing. Finally, he settled down next to the boy, leaving a span between them, and bit a piece of pizza.

"I'm Neil," he said.

"Andrew," said the other, tapping his cigarette against the grill to get rid of the ashes.

Neil nodded, unable to contain the smile that came over his face.

“What?” Asked Andrew, his face was cold and impassive as if carved in marble. 

"It's just... We have really thin walls," he explained, laughing. A strange, nasal sound. “It's nice to put a face and a name on the person who listens to all these songs.”

Andrew blinked and looked ahead, seeming to be thinking about what those words meant.

“I could…” He tapped his index and middle fingers twice against his knee, as if he were counting the words. “I could lower the sound next time ... If it's bothering you.”

Neil bit another piece of pizza and shook his head.

"I don't care," he said, covering his mouth. Abby would have slapped him on the back of the head for speaking with his mouth full. “It's just ... Your name doesn't match the type of music you listen to.”

Andrew's frown alone called Neil an idiot. He inhaled the cigarette again before speaking.

“What the fuck ...?” 

“It's just ... “ Neil laughed. “Andrew is a very common name.”

"Fuck you," he said. “What name did you think I had?”

Neil shrugged.

"I don't fucking know," he replied, biting the edge of the pizza this time. “Something fresh ... Adalberto, maybe.”

"Adalberto," repeated Andrew, blowing on the smoke. Neil thought he saw the corners of his lips curl up in a smile, but it may have been just an impression. “What the fuck name is that?”

"I don't know, but it should be your name," Neil insisted, hiding his laughter in the back of his hand.

Andrew murmured "Adalberto" again, shaking his head in denial. He was beautiful. Neil felt like an idiot for thinking that, but it was the truth. Usually he was not attracted to almost anyone and his " few " experiences had never been very surprising. 

But, holy christ, a father who is loved by mercy , the single most beautiful thing Neil had ever seen in his life had been a brand new Exy racket.

Now, more closely and without the hand holding the cigarette blocking his view, Neil noticed the small steel circle stuck to his lower lip as well as the small, clear freckles on his cheeks. When Andrew turned and caught him in the act staring, Neil felt his cheeks heat up and looked away as fast as he could.

"You guys are really noisy here, too," Andrew said, nodding at Neil's apartment. “There are nights when the screams are so loud that the walls even shake.”

Neil raised his eyebrows and looked at the other boy.

"I'm not going to apologize for Exy's nights," he declared, wiping his greasy pizza fingers on his sweatpants. “They have to be lived the right way. If we don't use the right amount of energy ... It's over. Lost Game.”

“You know the games are not live, do you?” Checked Andrew.

"Detail," said Neil. “Exy is not a sport, it is a religion. It needs to be adored and respected in the right way.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. His cigarette had already run out and he put out the butt against the railing of the stairs.

"Junkie," he accused.

"You should see my brother," murmured Neil. “Kevin is the real obsessed. He sleeps, eats and breathes thinking about Exy. Even his boyfriends are crazy about it. I just pay respect to the sport that saved my life.”

Andrew shook his head.

"I know a little something or two about it," he said, not seeming to want to continue the matter.

He took the cigarette pack and the lighter out of his pocket, offering one to Neil who accepted it without hesitation. Andrew frowned.

"I thought athletes were pure creatures that have no harmful health addictions," he said.

“Are you going to tell someone?”

Something close to a giggle escaped Andrew, just a choked little air escaping his nose which he hid by rolling his eyes. Abby hated it when Neil and Kevin did that, she used to say that if a wind passed by they would be stuck in a frown forever. Normally Neil would reply by saying that was why his brother was so ugly.

“How long have you lived here?” Asked Andrew taking a drag on his cigarette. “I don't think I've ever seen you before.”

"That's because I'm never at home," explained Neil, propping his elbow on the top step. “Abby and David are usually always working late, so Kevin and I stayed out most of the afternoon. He goes to God knows where while I spend all my time at my friend's house.”

"Your athlete friends," Andrew guessed.

Neil snorted, a string of cigarette smoke coming out. “Yeah, my athlete friends.”

Andrew nodded, biting his lower lip. Does it hurt? Because of the piercing and so . Neil wanted to ask if it hurts to bite.

Instead...

“Do you have brothers?” He asked. "I never saw you or anyone in your apartment, either. Just …” He pointed to the window where the music came from. “I just heard you.”

Something crossed Andrew's eyes.

“Brother?” There it was again, laughter in disguise. As if he didn't want to demonstrate that he was a person with normal reactions. “My cousin lives with me.”

"Cool," said Neil, inhaling his cigarette. “I don't have cousins, but I imagine it's cool.”

Andrew raised both eyebrows. “He's my worst nightmare.”

Neil laughed. He hugged his legs, touching his chest with his knees and laying his head on them. It was much better out there, cooler, more fun and less lonely than in his room. Andrew seemed to be the kind of boy who pretended not to care, but he still hadn't dismissed him, so Neil wasn't going anywhere.

Andrew pointed to the deathly hallows lamp inside Neil's room, which could be seen from where they were sitting.

“Do you like Harry Potter?” He asked.

"Uhum," said Neil. “You?”

"Yes," said Andrew, a certain animated glow passing behind his eyes. “What house are you from?”

"Gryffindor," Neil replied without thinking, he knew he was from that house since he had first read the first book.

Andrew frowned. Neil gasped, offended. 

“Fuck you” He complained. “You can't be from a better house.”

"I'm a hufflepuff" said Andrew.

Of course he was. That was the most adorable cliché of all, even if Neil wasn't going to mention it. The emo with a soft, golden heart.

“Okay” he confessed “you are from a better house than I am. I can't compete against that.”

"Ah, but you're going to suffer in my hand," Andrew threatened. “I will never forget what house you are from. Bully gryffindors is not wrong, it is just inevitable.”

"That from a lufan is scary," admitted Neil.

He was still thinking about the fact that the boy next to him had just suggested that they would see each other again when Andrew's bedroom light went on and a boy stuck his head out the window. 

For a second, Neil thought he was seeing it split. The person looking at them was, in every aspect, identical to Andrew. The same skin, the same hair, the same facial features and eyes. But the figure in the window wore much happier colors and had no piercing.

“Ah, hum, hi…” Said the boy, then turned to his doppelganger. “Bee is calling you.”

And then he was gone, returning to the chasms from which he had left and leaving Neil with a hanging mouth. Andrew stood up, stubbed out his cigarette and clapped his hands on his pants to clean himself.

"I have to go," he said.

“Wait …” Neil called, frowning while the other was already putting a foot into the room itself. “I thought you didn't have a brother.”

Andrew looked over his shoulder into the room, then looked at Neil again. This time there really was a smile on his lips.

"I don't, he's my evil clone," he replied, finishing jumping off the windowsill and looking at Neil one last time. “Goodbye.”

"Bye," he replied, smiling.

Neil stood there, looking up at the sky and finishing his cigarette while the cool night made him a new and not"so"pleasant company.

 

~

 

It was becoming a habit. 

Andrew could see the pattern there.

Every night he helped his mother wash the dinner dishes, put some loud music in the room and went to smoke in the fire exit. Every night Neil came and kept him company.

He was not complaining. To be honest, Andrew kind of… liked it?

Don't take it the wrong way, it's not like he hates being with Betsy, Aaron and Nicky. Andrew loved them, even though he constantly said that he couldn't care less about any of the three. But being trapped in a three"bedroom apartment with a therapist, someone who looks the same as you and someone with enough energy to charge an atomic bomb, was not anyone's dream of quarantine.

And even if he talked too much, Neil was good company. Someone to talk to for a few hours about random subjects and to remind you that there was still a world outside your bubble. Sometimes, when they had nothing to talk about, they just leaned against the orange brick wall and watched the night sky of the city while they smoked in silence. It was strangely pleasant.

That night, when he went to drink water after staying up late listening to his neighbor chattering about conspiracy theories, Bee sneaked into the kitchen, making him jump and spill almost all the water in his sweatshirt.

"Calm down, frightened cat," she said, laughing and walking around the table to the sink.

Andrew swore under his breath, running a hand over his wet clothes. The woman hated it when either of the twins or Nicky cursed, so he only did such a thing in her presence on special occasions, such as: taking a cold water bath in the middle of the night or something.

Betsy scowled at him, which made him smile a little victoriously. She was all wrapped up in a blue microfiber blanket, with her feet tucked in Donald Duck's slippers and her hair looking like it hadn't been washed in months. Using “free time” to write her doctoral thesis was almost making her lose her mind for good. Andrew couldn't love her more.

“What are you doing up?” He asked, turning over the spilled remains of water in his mouth. 

"I came to refuel," she said, lifting a mug, which must have been hidden in the heap of despair that was that blanket, and taking the hot chocolate mixture over the sink. “But I'm the adult here, so I ask the questions. Why are you still up and wearing the same clothes you wore all day?”

Andrew shrugged. On good days, Bee would take that as an answer enough and drop the subject. This was not a good day.

“Is he handsome?” She asked, as if she wanted nothing, looking at him sideways.

If only Andrew died choking on his own saliva, he wouldn't have to continue that conversation. 

He coughed a few times. “Who?”

"Aaron told me you were talking to a boy the other day," she clarified. “I asked him to stop gossiping and I was not going to comment on anything, but, dear, we are in the middle of a quarantine and even though I am happy that you are dating someone, you should be very careful…”

Some people would say that the sound emitted by Andrew was a groan of frustration, he preferred to believe it was just the manifestation of his spirit leaving his body to go anywhere but that kitchen.

"I'm not dating anyone and I'm going to break Aaron's face if that's what he told you," said Andrew, placing the glass in the sink.

Bee nodded, going to the microwave to heat up her milk. There was a question in the air, between them. Who was it, then? But she wouldn't do it.

There it was, she was letting Andrew put an end to that conversation if he wanted to. It had always been that way with them since Bee adopted the twins. If they wanted to, they could trust her with everything they had and tell her everything. But if they didn't want to, there was no problem letting the conversation die. 

Unlike his brother, who was always more open and sentimental, it took Andrew a while to start talking. But he had never stopped since.

"His name is Neil," he said, sighing in surrender. “And he's our neighbor, not my boyfriend. I think he is bored by having to stay home for so long, so we were talking at the fire exit. Only that.”

“Today too?”

"Today, too," he repeated in an affirmative tone. “You don't have to worry about anyone getting infected and dying. It seems his parents are just as paranoid as you are.”

"It's not paranoia," Bee replied, taking the mug out of the microwave. “It's a precaution.”

“Yeah …”

Bee shook her head laughing.

"So," she said, looking at him over her shoulder as she stirred the hot chocolate with a spoon, "he is handsome?"

Yes, a thousand times yes .

Neil was so beautiful it was ridiculous. 

He was so beautiful that Andrew wanted to punch him in the face, then put a bandage with a cute print on it and fill it with kisses. It no longer made sense. It was irritating to look at someone so attractive like that.

And those blue eyes and curly auburn hair? Andrew hated them. He wanted to uproot them while shouting that redheads did not deserve the right to live in peace and walk the world even though they knew how angry they made people by being so beautiful.

Andrew shrugged.

"He’s okay," he said at last. Because he was a great liar.

Betsy laughed out loud, throwing her head back. Andrew was offended.

“Stop laughing!”

She raised her hands in surrender, trying to control her breathing. “I don't… I… Okay, okay… I stopped.”

Andrew shook his head, as if he couldn't believe she was even laughing at him. But deep in his heart, there was a familiar warmth that only Bee's laughter could cause.

She took the mug with one hand and patted Andrew's shoulder affectionately as she passed him.

"Go to bed, dear," she advised, a smile still hanging from her lips. “But take a shower first. I'm sure this Neil will find you even more attractive if you're not a stinky teenager.”

That night, after taking a shower " even if it had nothing to do with Bee or whether he stank or not, Andrew was a very clean boy, thank you, very well " it was harder than ever to fall asleep. As much as he closed his eyes and tried his best to, it was impossible to get his brain to shut down for even a second.

So Andrew kept thinking about the sky on a cloudless day, on the surface of a lake, in hyacinths. He also thought of eyes so blue that they overshadowed any other shade of the same color.

 

~

 

It's not that Andrew wanted to irritate everyone who lived in the building and make them want the family to move as far away and as soon as possible. But he really preferred listen to your music as loud as you can without bursting your eardrums.

Bee, by now, seemed to have given up on asking him to lower the sound. The volume knob would always end up going back to the maximum anyway. Over the years, his small family had learned to handle it well. 

The only one who occasionally complained was Nicky, who still seemed not to have gotten used to his strange customs. But it wasn't really anyone's fault that they found out about each other's existence only a year ago, when Nicholas had been kicked out of the house for being gay and his only way out was to look for the blood cousins he had discovered by going through the documents his father held hidden in his office.

When Nicky appeared at their door, Betsy didn't think twice about welcoming him and Aaron clung to him almost automatically, even if he denied it. Andrew, on the other hand, took a little longer to get used to the idea that someone coming from those people could be something good. But over time he learned to get along with his cousin. He had also been abandoned by them, after all.

Accommodating Nicholas somewhere in the house was, in fact, the biggest challenge. None of the twins wanted to give up their privacy and get Bee out of her room was completely out of the question. (Apparently, they also couldn't keep Nicky on the couch forever if he was really going to stay there). Finally, Andrew and Aaron, like the mature boys they were, bet on rock"paper"and"scissors who would stay with Nicky. 

Aaron sucked at rock"paper"and"scissors.

At least, both Nicky and Andrew won. The cousin wouldn't be deaf and he had the room to himself " messy and chaotic the way he liked it. 

Nothing and no one could stop Andrew from listening to loud music while reading a book lying on his bed, with both legs resting on the wall in an not really ergonomic way. Behind those doors, this was his special place.

Nothing could touch him there. 

Nothing could hurt him where no one could see him.

When Betsy took him and Aaron home, Andrew refused for two months to sleep in a room separate from his brother even though there was more than enough space in the house for them. He didn't trust her, he didn't trust the house and he didn't trust that they would finally be safe and stabilized somewhere. As far as he knew, social work could come through the door and take them to another temporary home at any time. For one even worse than the previous ones.

But nobody ever came. At least not to get them out of Bee. She gained the brothers' trust and helped them heal from all their pains (or at least most of them, some, perhaps, never really disappeared).

Deep down, Andrew suspected that being Nicky's roommate had never really been a possibility. Ensure that his room was a safe place where Andrew could be his usual weird self had been Bee’s idea. He was very grateful for that. And for everything else she had done.

A few taps on the window glass caused Andrew to lift the book to release his vision. In that upside"down world, he first identified the auburn hair and then put a name in its face.

Andrew rolled out of bed " trying not to break his spine in the process " and went to the window.

It was strange to see Neil during the day, with the sun shining brightly behind him, lighting his hair and making it look like his head was on fire. Usually, they would just meet at night and talk until one of them started to yawn and show signs of tiredness, so each of them would jump out of their own window and go back to their individual life. They never agreed to meet the next day, but they were always there anyway.

“What are you doing?” Asked Neil, when the glass that separated them was lifted.

Andrew held up the book he was clumsily holding " the middle finger on the page where he had stopped and the others holding the cover and back cover.

Neil frowned. “How can you read with that loud music?”

"I read with my eyes, not my ears," said Andrew, charming as always.

"Idiot," said Neil, rolling his eyes.

Andrew smiled " a minimal thing and only with his lips " because, yes, he was an idiot.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, returning to his usual neutral expression.

“I couldn't stand being at home anymore doing nothing.” Neil shrugged. “ David was about to command me to go run again and he did it in the morning. He says that I'm like a puppy that you have to take for a walk or he starts to break the whole house.”

“So you can't break things in your house and you came to break mine?” Accused Andrew.

Neil shrugged again, with a playful smile on his face.

“If you let me in, maybe I'll break something.”

My sanity, probably.  

Andrew didn't have to let him in. He could close the window in Neil's face and end that torment right there. They would no longer meet in the dead of night to smoke and he would not be sighing around the corners like an idiot when he returned home as he had done all these days.

But Andrew moved to the side and watched as Neil squirmed and pushed himself into his room. 

Into his safe place. 

He was an idiot.

"I didn't ask for you to interrupt my reading," Andrew pointed out. “So you'll have to wait for me to finish this chapter.”

Neil shrugged and walked over to Andrew's computer chair, throwing himself into it and turning in place, with his head on the back and his eyes closed. Arg , it was horrible even to look at him.

With a long sigh, Andrew pulled the strings from the hood of his sweatshirt and desperately wanted to be choked by them. Dying was more enjoyable than being a desperately gay teenager with no social skills and an attractive boy in his room.

Reading was definitely no longer an easy task. Andrew's eyes were unable to stay glued to the pages and his head simply did not record anything that was being read. That was irritating for a person with eidetic memory.

The air in the room seemed to be static, making the skin tingle and sharpening all senses. Everything around him was pure electricity.

Several times, Andrew found himself looking over the book at the boy sitting relaxed in his chair. Neil murmured softly to the rhythm of the music coming out of the computer speaker while shaking his head slightly, biting his own lip and breathing heavily. You could see the Adam's apple marked on the stretched neck and also the traces of the muscular arms under the shirt.

This was too much of a distraction.

Andrew closed the books with an audible thud and sat upright on the bed " less played, more presentable.

“Are you hungry?” Asked, because filling his mouth with food was always the right answer to anything.

"I could eat," said Neil, opening his eyes and focusing directly on Andrew.

Andrew's cheeks prickled under his gaze.

"Good," he said, standing up suddenly. “Come with me.”

They turned off the music and left the room. The apartment was quiet and seemed empty, but somewhere in it Aaron was playing video games, Nicky talking to his boyfriend and Betsy freaking out with her notebook for not working perfectly. They had a very specific routine in that house.

Neil's eyes roamed the walls full of pictures of the corridor. Andrew hated having so many pictures of his face hanging so that anyone who entered the house could see it, but Bee seemed to be quite proud of them and her children.

“Is this you?” Neil asked, pointing to a photo where the twins were ten and only one of them was holding an ice cream cone. His finger was on Aaron, who wore a closed face of the kind that always appeared when he held back his tears.

"No," said Andrew. “I'm the smilly one.”

Neil blinked. “I didn't think your cheeks would be able to smile like this.”

Andrew shrugged.

"I had just dropped Aaron's ice cream," he explained. “It was the best thing that happened in my day.”

Neil laughed, looking from the current Andrew to the ten-year-old Andrew.

"You have a beautiful smile," said Neil at last.

Remember that urge to punch Neil Josten? Andrew had never felt it so strongly and it seemed to grow a little more with each second they spent together.

He controlled the urge to scream and run as fast as he could. “Yeah, get used to not seeing it.”

Andrew turned and headed for the kitchen without saying anything else and without looking back to make sure he was being accompanied or not. If Neil wanted to stay there, looking at those pictures, let him stay. He wasn't going to torture himself and watch that.

In the kitchen, Andrew tried to make as little noise as possible by stretching to reach the shapes on the top shelf. He would never understand the purpose of having such high put shelves when only one person in that house was over six feet tall.

Neil " who had actually followed him " just leaned against the table and looked lost as Andrew moved from side to side, picking up ingredients and bowls and placing them on the marble.

"When you asked if I was hungry I thought we were going to have something ready," he said. “Or a sandwich.”

"The junk supply ran out a week ago," Andrew replied, with half his body tucked into the refrigerator to get the jar of margarine. “We are going to make cake.”

“And you know how to do that?” Asked Neil, poking the bag of flour on the table.

"It shouldn't be that hard," said Andrew, placing the butter and eggs with the other ingredients. 

Neil nodded.

"I've seen Abby make one," he said. “Usually she doesn't allow me, Kevin or David to stay in the kitchen when she's cooking. She says that people get in the way more than they help.”

"You'll help today," Andrew ordered, handing Neil the bowl and two eggs. “Break it up.”

Andrew didn't have a recipe and he had left his cell phone in the room. But it really shouldn't be that complicated. Eggs, flour, milk, oil, chocolate and a little yeast. That seemed to be everything and he knew he had to use butter to grease the pan. It… it would work.

The two started mixing the ingredients in the same bowl where Neil had broken the eggs, putting everything into measures they thought was enough.

“Why don't you call your parents father and mother?” Asked Andrew as he passed a piece of paper towel smeared with butter at the bottom of a cake pan.

Neil raised his head, blinking in confusion. “What?”

"Abby and David," Andrew said, looking at him. “You refer to them by name.”

“Ah …”

Neil stopped stirring the wooden spoon that was sunk in the brown dough for a few seconds and looked at Andrew.

"They're not really my parents," he said at last. “They adopted me when I was ten years old ... After social work showed up at my house and took me.”

Andrew blinked.

He did not know that Neil was also an orphan. That like him, he had found the love of a family only with people with whom he did not share any genetic traits.

“Where are your parents now?” Asked, not sure whether Neil would respond or not and it would be okay if he chose not to continue on that subject.

But Neil replied without thinking twice: “In hell, I hope.”

Andrew understood the feeling. Thinking about Tilda and whoever the son of a bitch who got her pregnant was never something he liked. But the idea of the woman who didn't love her children enough to keep them had already hurt him far more than it hurt today. Today, Andrew was just indifferent to her.

"I'm adopted, too," said Andrew, softly and with his eyes on the pan. “Sometimes I call Bee mother .”

Neil nodded, taking the bowl to Andrew.

“Is she cool?” He asked, pouring the dough into the pan.

It was difficult for Andrew not to have the biggest smile in the world. Damn , he loved Betsy with all his heart.

"She is the nicest person I know" and truest words have never been spoken before on the entire planet. "I mean, she's cool when she doesn't look like a zombie walking around the house after spending thirty straight hours working on her thesis. At these times, I want to hire an exorcist and give him the entity she has become.”

Neil laughed, a muffled and choked sound. Andrew liked his laugh, it caused a strange feeling in his chest.

The two pushed the pan into the preheated oven and watched the dough do nothing behind the glass for a few seconds. How dare chemical cooking reactions not be instantaneous?

Andrew stood and shrugged. Then he went to the freezer and pulled out a jar of ice cream with cookies.

"I thought the junk food was over a week ago," Neil recalled.

"Ice cream isn’t junk food, it's the gods' ambrosia," defended Andrew, wrinkling his nose. " There are bowls in the cabinet above the sink and spoons in the first drawer.”

While Neil searched for the things Andrew had indicated, he busied himself with breaking the seal on the jar and admiring the white cream and pieces of oreo biscuit floating in that creamy cloud of flavor. Delight .

Neil placed the bowls side by side and Andrew filled them, sitting on the table next and reaching over to the side for his neighbor to accompany him. 

Andrew held the base of the bowl with an open palm, feeling the surface freeze his skin. He stirred the cream with the spoon for a while until it melted a little and put a handful in his mouth, eyes closed. That was a sweet paradise.

Neil laughed beside him.

"I never saw anyone eat ice cream with such passion," he commented.

"Hey ... you have your stupid sport, I have my ice cream," Andrew said, kicking Neil's foot with his and getting another kick in response. " This is not a competition, but if it was ... we could say that I am winning.”

Like a demon summoned at the crossroads, Nick's voice came from the hall. " Did I hear the word ice cream ?”

Andrew's cousin was so physically different from him and Aaron that if it weren't for the documents that proved they were from the same biological family, it would be hard to believe. So maybe they could have just slammed the door in his face and reduced half of Andrew's daily disturbances.

Just kidding. Unless ...

When Nick put his messy brown hair into the kitchen, Andrew wanted to wither and disappear in the same proportion as the sparkle in his cousin's eyes grew when they fell on Neil.

"Hi, I'm Nick," he said, the smile so big it almost broke the edges of his face. " Who are you?”

" Neil…?” He replied, looking from Nicky to Andrew with big puppy eyes.

" Are you Neil or are you not sure about that? " Nicky laughed, walking around the table.

Neil blinked. " I'm Neil.”

"He's our neighbor," said Andrew. " Can you take whatever you came here for and leave?”

" No, Andrew. I'm making friends, ”Nick replied, as if Andrew was five and needed to be taught basic human interaction for him. (That had happened, by the way. He was not a very sociable child. But that is beside the point). " So, Neil , how come I never saw you in the building?”

"I don't usually stay at home," he said, giving the same answer he had offered Andrew when they met.

Wow. That seemed like eons ago, but it was barely two weeks ago. Not that much had happened during those days, but the passage of time was all mixed up lately. Staying at home without having responsibilities outside those walls was something that really caused the hours, days and weeks to morph into something abstract and inexplicable.

"Ah, yes," Nicky nodded, as if he normally knew what life was like outside the house. " But it's good that we finally met our neighbors. In fact ... Why do you scream so much at dinner time?”

It wasn't the highlight of Andrew's life, but he choked on some ice cream as he bursted in laughter.

"Things usually get a little out of control when we watch an exy match," Neil explained, his cheeks flushing a lot more than when he had told that story the last time. " It's kind of an important thing in my house.”

Cough. " Junkie . " Cough.

Neil scowled at Andrew, but he just kept eating his ice cream as if no words had left his mouth.

"Cool," said Nicky, totally unaware of what was going on. " Andrew has a friend who is a goalkeeper on their school team. Renee.”

" Walker? " Completed Neil, but he was looking at Andrew, who just nodded without paying much attention. " Wow. She is simply one of the best goalkeepers in the entire city, hardly anyone can score on her. " He shrugged. " But I did.”

"She probably let the ball go," Andrew teased, already regretting winding up that exy conversation.

It's not like he hates the sport with all his might, but everyone in that place was so crazy about it that it was annoying. Violence and free beating weren't enough rewards to spend nearly three hours in a stadium or school court being elbowed by several strangers smelling as bad as the devil’s anus.

"Or I'm just really good at what I do," said Neil, looking very proud of himself.

"Yeah, maybe," said Andrew, with a frown.

" I'll take you to some of my games when all this madness is over " said Neil, full of himself. " You will see me play and then you will be forced to admit that I am very, very , good.”

Andrew's cheeks were hot. Shit. It was the third time that he had blushed since Neil had shown up at his house and that was no fun at all.

None of that was.

Convincing your own crazy head that this was not an invitation to a date but a one-way ticket to hell was a very difficult thing, especially when Neil smiled all victorious like that.

Nicky seemed to realize he was third wheeling in that kitchen and turned to the sink counter, facing the open ice cream jar.

" Aaaah, man ... " he complained. " Did you leave it out of the fridge again? Now everything is melted…”

Andrew shrugged, not yet fully recovered from the last outbreak, but very happy to change the subject.

"It's better when it's melted a little," he said.

When the cake was finally done and Nick was no longer around, they went to the bedroom and Andrew left the door half open. Now that Nicky knew Neil was there, it wouldn't be long before Betsy (and half of the world) knew as well and that meant he had to respect the open door rule when any possible interest was around - boys for Andrew and Nicky and girls for Aaron, who was the only straight member of the family, the poor guy.

"I'm just saying" said Neil, sitting on Andrew's bed (beside him, legs crossed, knee touching his and making him want to throw himself out of the window) "that you're going to die of diabetes. You definitely didn't need to put ice cream on top of a cake that you already had decorated with chocolate frosting.”

For some reason, Andrew thought it was a pertinent response to stick out his tongue and lick the back of the spoon that was completely dirty with chocolate. Only after seeing Neil's face, wide-eyed and flushed cheek, did he realize how obscene it must have looked.

Honestly, why did he have to be like that?

Andrew put the spoon down again and stuck it in the cake.

"I like sweets," he murmured awkwardly.

"Yeah, I got it," said Neil, lowering his head, too.

Honoring its shape designed after many sachets of pastelike food, a ball of the gray furr came through the door, meowing to the slightest smell of food and looking for someone stupid enough to give him what he wanted.

Neil's jaw dropped. " What is it?”

" A cat? " Said Andrew, sure that his little animal was a bit fat, but not enough so that others could not even discern his species.

"I know it's a cat," said Neil, annoyed. " I'm not an idiot.”

" Um ... " Andrew was tempted to say that it wasn't completely true.

" But where did it come from? " Neil asked, bending down to caress the animal.

"He's always been here, sleeping in a near coma in some room," said Andrew. " This is King.”

Neil left the unfinished cake plate beside his body and bent down, bringing the cat to his lap and petting it. Like the little bitch in need of attention, King squirmed in approval and purred loudly.

Ah ... What wouldn't I give to be that cat? Andrew thought, not at all proud of it.

" Who is the most beautiful joy ball in the world? " Neil said, pouting and doing the typical and universal voice of talking to babies and animals. " Who is it? Yes, it's you, you beautiful little thing.”

Andrew's entire chest was ridiculously warm as he watched Neil stick his whole face into King's hairy belly and rub himself against it fearlessly while the kitten tried to grab one of his curls with his paws.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

He didn’t wanted to, but he couldn't help feeling like a band was playing drums inside his poor little heart. Neil was too precious for this world. 

Andrew was sure that he had fallen stupidly and hopelessly in love with him.

 

~

 

When Abby gave an order, even by video call and wearing sterile clothes from head to toe, this was attended without complaints. David liked to pretend to be the head of the house, but everyone knew who was really in charge of that home.

And that was how David, Kevin and Neil ended up with brooms, mops and all the cleaning paraphernalia on hand. Without Abby around to discipline them, that house was really looking a lot like a pigsty. 

With all the energy he had, Neil slipped into the room, where Kevin was dusting the furniture.

" you are " he sang, along with the music coming from the speakers as he lowered his right hand in front of his face and closed it slowly and dramatically " my fire. The one desire. Believe when I say that I want it that way.”

It was almost a rule in that house, listening to any music released after 2013 while cleaning was strictly forbidden. But everyone knew that it was, in fact, just them allowing themselves to listen to their guilty pleasure songs without any shame.

" TELL ME WHY, " Kevin shouted back, using the duster as a microphone.

" Ain't nothing but a heartache …”

" TELL ME WHY.”

" Ain't nothing but a mistake…”

" Tell me why…”

" I never want to hear you say…”

" I want it that way " they completed in unison, reproducing a choreography that they had already rehearsed more times than they could count.

Even though he was only adopted at the age of ten and needed some time to get used to a life in a new home, with new people, the connection between Neil and Kevin had been almost instantaneous. They sort of completed each other and understood exactly the deepest problems of each other's soul, regardless of whether they had even gone through something close to that or not.

They were soul mates. Brothers in spirit, if not in blood. Neil would jump out of an abyss and get into the most unimaginable situations for Kevin, blindly following him and trusting him with all his heart to set the right path. He was sure that the other would do the same for him without a second thought.

And that whole connection went to something a little more than loyalty, they also understood each other fully in their silly things. Countless times they watched the adults in the house roll their eyes and bow their heads in contemplation of the two incurable idiots they were creating when they came up with some new internal joke or did something stupid togheter.

The sound of the bell was not enough for them to stop their performance. David was in the kitchen and therefore closer to the door, so they let him handle it.

Kevin and Neil twirled and made dramatic hand gestures as if they were in a video clip, never missing any steps or lyrics. They also took small jumps without moving and slid around the room, complementing with small “ now you ” for their imaginary audience.

At the climax, Neil tightened his hands around the broom/microphone stand and laid it slightly forward. " Don't wanna hear you…!”

When giving a perfect half turn on his heels, thus facing the entrance door of the room, Neil almost fell when he came face to face with Andrew.

For a second, he thought he was seeing things and that this was not really his neighbor. Not with that huge smile on his face. But then Neil recognized him, the smile was the same as the photo that hung in the hallway of his apartment, the one that Andrew had given after dropping his twin brother's ice cream. 

Neil automatically wanted to run and move out of the country. He spoke two languages in addition to English, so maybe to live in France or Brazil wouldn't be that difficult.

"Don't stop because of me," Andrew asked, still with that manic smile on his face. " The show was great.”

This was torture. Neil wiped the sweat off his forehead, then remembered that he was using a hot pink bow to hold the auburn curls back and ran it off. If he blushed a little more, he might explode out of existence. " That ... It's ... I ... It's nothing.”

"Nonsense, they do it all the time," said David, always ready to embarrass his children. " Neil, this young man said he knows you. He wasn't wearing a mask, so I checked his temperature and made him use almost our entire supply of gel alcohol, the way my lovely wife instructed me to do it.”

David Wymack looked at Andrew as if he were an annoying fly buzzing in his room. The boy, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to this.

"My mom is trying out some cookie recipes and ended up making a lot," explained Andrew, lifting a large tupperware with a blue lid. " She asked me to bring some for you.”

Kevin passed Neil and went over to Andrew, taking the pot out of his hands like the curious one he was.

" Are they low-calorie? " Asked, lifting the lid a little to smell it.

Andrew frowned, as if that idea was a personal offense to him. " No?!”

"Yeah ... " Kevin looked disappointed, but he took it well. " Will serve. I'm starving and nobody in this house knows how to cook properly.”

Neil's brother turned and headed for the kitchen. It took a second for the father to realize what he was doing.

"If you mess up anything I've already cleaned," David shouted, going after his son, "you'll be sorry you were born."

And so, Neil and Andrew were alone in the room, surrounded by brooms and the voices of the boys who used to follow in one direction. With all the will contained in his body, this being very little since he was dry with shame, the resident of the house approached the other.

"So," said Andrew, biting another smile, " Backstreet Boys ?"

Neil stared at the little bow, still in his hands. " Me and... It's just a silly thing.”

"No, no," encouraged Andrew. " I liked. You ... You dance well.”

The same part of Neil who wanted to dig a hole and hide in it, was responsible for forming a silly little smile on his face.

"I liked the little bow too," added Andrew, his cheeks were also a little more pink.

"Idiot," Neil replied, quietly and looking at anything but the boy in front of him.

Because what should he do? Respond to a compliment like a normal person? Oh, no, thanks. That was not on his schedule. All he knew was to be embarrassed and to want to make stupid, squeaky little sounds that he would in no way let them escape in front of Andrew.

"I ... I'm going home," said Andrew, looking at the room with scuffed furniture. " You guys seem to be busy.”

" Ah ... Okay " replied Neil, extremely disappointed that he was already leaving.

He led Andrew to the door, feeling his heart beat in a completely stupid way in his chest. Before heading to the next apartment, the boy turned to him.

" See you at night? " Asked Andrew, biting the part of his lower lip where the piercing was stuck.

AaaaAAAaah… Neil had such a love for that piercing. He wanted to touch it so badly. But, wow , that would be super hyper meg a weird of him.

"Sure," he replied, clutching the handle to keep from falling.

"Bye," said Andrew with a little smile.

"Bye," whispered Neil.

As he closed the door, Neil leaned against it and stared at the white plaster ceiling, trying to find the answers to all of humanity's questions in it. He couldn't find anything since all his brain could process was Andrew Andrew Andrew , as if it were a mantra.

"Your boyfriend is handsome," Kevin commented, appearing in the hallway with a half-bitten cookie in hand.

Yes, he is ... Handsome! Not my boyfriend. He's cute, that's all. Oh don't be ... No! WHAT?

Neil was no longer making sense even inside his head. This was too much to handle. He showed Kevin the middle finger, so as not to leave him unanswered and not to lose the habit, then returned to his cleaning which was something much simpler than all those thoughts and feelings.

 

~

 

It was possible to count the people that Andrew trusted in just one hand - maybe there was still one finger left, he was still deciding about it. But among all of them, none were like Renee Walker.

He had never seen himself as the kind of sociable person and one who others want to be friends with. When the world was not boiling and being consumed by a virus and human stupidity, Andrew was just the weird and moody boy who was Aaron's brother. No reasonable person would like to be around him.

But, perhaps for his luck, Renee was not very good at the art of selecting the people she would keep by her side. Or she was just too good to let anyone wander around. Whatever the reason, when Andrew and his brother were transferred to the new school, she did not rest until she was part of his life.

"So," said the girl, her image hanging for a second on Andrew's cell phone screen, "how are you?" Are you coping well with all this history of social distance?”

"My life is already a social distance," Andrew replied, laughing, because it was easy to laugh without reason with Renee. " But ... I haven't done any shit on my hair yet, so I think I'm better than certain people.”

" Hey, " complained Renee, fiddling with the ends of her chanel hair, which had previously been completely platinum, but which now contained green edges. " I thought it was a good idea. Didn't you really like it?”

"It looks like moss," he said, meaning it. " It's still better than when you used that other color. What was the name again? Blue toucan?”

"Blue Macaw," she corrected.

"Birds," murmured Andrew, shrugging.

"Don't believe him, love," said a woman's voice out of reach of Renee's camera. " You look beautiful.”

" Is Allison there? " He asked, making a face. As said, Renee was not good at choosing the people she wanted by her side. " Honestly, Walker, I thought you were going to be the last person to break the quarantine.”

Renee smirked, looking at the girlfriend who was somewhere above her cell phone.

"We're not breaking the quarantine," said Renee to Andrew. " Alli will be here for a while …”

" I would go crazy if I stayed more than two full days in the same house as my parents " guaranteed Allison, sitting next to Renee on the bed and appearing in the video. " Hi, Andrew.”

It wasn't that Andrew hated her, but Allison was one of the people who would never speak to him willingly. If the girl wasn't in a relationship, apparently, more than serious with Renee, she wouldn't even know about him.

Allison Reynolds was a tall, blonde, wealthy, athlete who did not mix with exiles normally. And that made Andrew wonder if someone else, who was taking more of his attention than planned, wouldn't even look at him if it weren't for the current conditions either. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

" Hey, what's up? " Renee asked.

Andrew shrugged. " Nothing.”

"No," she persisted. " There's something. You're strange.”

"There's nothing strange," he said, shaking his head. " I'm being me.”

"Exactly," she exclaimed. " Since when are you that version of you with me?”

A heavy sigh left Andrew's body. It was hard to hide anything from Renee, because she was right about him not being with her the way he was with other people. He was lighter and closer to relaxing when they were together.

Andrew looked at the small image of Allison on the screen (which was not really paying attention to them, but rather something on her own cell phone).

"I can put on the headphones, if you want," offered Renee.

Andrew shook his head. Damn it, he thought, Allison is much better at these matters than either of us.

"I met someone," he said, without thinking too much, because if he did he would freak out.

"You met someone," Renee repeated. " Did you, like, meet someone?

" Yes ... Yeah ... I think.”

" You think?” She repeated, acting like a scratched disco.

He shrugged, again. “I don’t know if he sees me that way.”

Something like understanding seemed to cross Renee's face and she smiled brightly.

"And you talking about me breaking the quarantine," she said.

"Well, I expect that kind of behavior from me, not you," he explained, feeling like a mole. “And, sort of, we aren't breaking anything? Cause he is like my neighbor?”

If that were even possible, Renee's smile seemed to get even bigger. That was disconcerting, because her smile made Andrew want to smile too, but there was nothing to smile about when it came to his silly crush on Neil. Nothing good would come of that. The appropriate answer would be to lie in a corner in a fetal position and cry for a few hours for having fallen for someone like that boy.

“What is it?” Andrew asked, wishing very much that she would hide those teeth back inside her mouth, where they should be.

“It's just” Renee waved a hand in front of her face, as if she were going to cry with pride “in all these years of friendship I never saw you say that you were interested in someone. This is really big news.”

Andrew was just a word away from disconnecting that call and going to do something else. Maybe he ended up looking for some magic recipe on Google to stop romantically liking his ridiculously attractive and good dancer neighbour.

"Okay," he said, breathing patiently. “What part of it I don't know if he is interested in me you haven't heard?”

Renee shrugged. “I can't see why he wouldn't be.”

“You can't …” Andrew laughed humorlessly. “Renee, he is beautiful and plays exy and ... and he is all resourceful and speaks by the elbows. And I ... I …” 

“And you 're an incredible person. Just the most intelligent human being I have ever met and, without a doubt, extremely beautiful” she said, in a tone that made it clear that discussions about it would not be welcome. “You said he plays exy. Do I know him?”

He remembered how proud Neil looked when he remembered that he had already scored a goal with Renee guarding the grid.

"Maybe," said Andrew, shrugging. “His name is Neil ... Neil Josten.”

Something fell into Renee's room. A few seconds later, Allison was squeezed against her girlfriend to share the camera frame.

“You're telling me that Neil Josten is your neighbor and you guys are flirting?” She asked, perplexed.

"We're not flirting," murmured Andrew.

"Detail," said Allison, still gaping. “Andrew, half the world has a crush on this man and never comes to anything. My God ... I will respect you so much if you managed to hook up with him.”

"Don't talk like that," Andrew warned, not liking the way it made Neil look like a prize or something. “I don't want to be respected for that kind of stuff and nobody should treat him as a challenge to be conquered.”

“Okay, okay” surrendered Allison, raising her hands and her eyebrows. “But ... Look, you'll only hear it come out of my mouth once. But you're a decent guy, Andrew. You deserve someone as cool as you are "

Andrew blinked. There was something that you don't hear often.

"My girlfriend is kind of right," Renee agreed, pushing Allison a little to the side affectionately. "You're such a fucking great guy. And Neil would have to be too blind or stupid not to notice all of your qualities.”

When Renee used a curse word, it was necessary to understand that the matter was more than serious.

"So," she said, smiling like crazy again, "tell me everything.”

And Andrew did told her, paying attention to every last detail of the last few weeks. Because he had no one else to talk to about that kind of thing and because it was difficult to say no to Renee and also because he liked to talk about Neil. .

 

 

Every lunch at Andrew's apartment was the closest thing possible to a street fair. No one but him seemed to know how to speak in a moderate tone of voice under that roof. 

He never expected much from Nicky when this was the requirement being judged, anyway, the boy looked like he was born with a megaphone stuck in his throat. But Bee was a balanced therapist and the most relaxed person he knew, and even thought Aaron wasn’t so quiet most of the time, he used to only talk when necessary (and yet being the more sociable of the two, the motherfucker).

The other three people in Andrew's little family always seemed desperate to share as much of their life as possible, even during a pandemic where the most exciting thing that happened in their day had something to do with going to a new level in a game. 

The day was so damn hot that Andrew's pressure was already falling just to imagine himself having to expend his precious and much needed energy to talk about such silly things. But still, he listened with all the attention of the world when they were talking. Because, yeah, Andrew could be a project of an emo rebellious and full of anguished feelings and weird needs to rebel against the system type of teenager, but he still respected the people who created him and were always by his side.

"So, Andrew," said Nicky, smiling confidently, "how's the man of your dreams?"

Andrew wanted to choke on his lunch peas, but nothing happened. “He's not the man of my dreams. He's nothing of mine.”

How many times would he have to say that? It was already getting boring and a little humiliating. Because in the depths of his cold, stone heart, Andrew wanted to be able to respond with a "very well, thank you, we were madly messing around in the other room until now."

But life was never fair for him.

“Are you sure?” Nicky insisted. “You seemed very close that day in the kitchen.”

"And every day going out to talk on the fire escape," added Aaron.

If it weren't so weird to hit someone with the same face as you, maybe Andrew would consider sticking his fork in the middle of Aaron's forehead.

"We are not together," Andrew repeated, hoping his tone would make it clear what he thought about continuing to talk about it.

"Can you stop teasing Andrew?" Bee asked.

The two looked at each other in a sweet and complicit way. Sometimes Andrew wondered if Aaron felt the same way about his adoptive mother. 

Yes, he had started calling her mother first, but that was because the boy had always been in need of motherly love and attention that it didn't take much to earn him. But with Andrew things had been slightly different, it was necessary to build a real bond between them until he started to give in and the connection they had seemed, at least to him, something inexplicable.

Betsy was his best friend. There was no escaping that. But she was also all the representation of love he knew. Maybe without her, Andrew wouldn't have known what that four-letter word meant.

When they finished their lunch, Aaron and Nick were in charge of taking care of all the dirty dishes. That was their deal, they got responsible for lunch and Bee and Andrew got dinner.

Both - him and Betsy - took the corridor to the bedrooms, but before he could manage to open the door to his sweet, sweet privacy place, she holded his wrist gently.

“You know,” she said, “when you want to talk about it, I'm here.”

Andrew shrugged. “There's nothing to talk about.”

"I know," Bee said with a little smile. “But when and if you have, you can talk to me.”

In a sudden will, Andrew leaned forward and kissed one of Betsy's cheeks, a kiss so quick and light that it barely touched her skin.

"I love you, mom," he said.

As it happened every time Andrew, for some reason, showed any affection for her, Bee's features melted into something sweet and kind.

"I love you, too, darling," she replied, a tender smile adorning her face.

When Bee was in her room, Andrew opened his own door and went inside.

For a second, he thought he was being mugged, and he kind of calculated poorly how long it would take him to run over to the desk and grab a stylus to protect himself. But then he noticed the red hair of the person sitting with his back to him in his computer chair and sighed with relief.

“Should I put a lock on that window?” Asked Andrew, closing the door because fuck the rule of no supposed interest inside the room behind closed doors . Nobody knew Neil was there. Nobody could guess things or pester him for something they didn't know.

Neil turned to him, a wide smile, but without showing his teeth, stamping his silly face. “Most likely.”

"Yeah," agreed Andrew, walking over to his own bed. “Good to know.”

Having Neil around had become so usual that Andrew could almost pretend he was part of his bedroom furniture. Just one more of the junk that he was attached to and left there. Even King, who was resting completely on the boy's lap, already seemed to have grown accustomed to his presence.

Andrew rolled up the sheets and tossed them on one end of the bed, sitting as awkwardly as possible on the other. You could feel the summer getting closer and closer and it was, honestly, pretty shitty. He hated wearing shorts, but enduring all that heat in jeans would be impossible.

Neil dragged the chair as best he could across the room until he was close to Andrew's bed. However, when he did, the beautiful smile gradually faded and left his face.

Asking what had happened seemed like the right thing to do. But when Andrew followed Neil's gaze, all his questions were answered and a huge lump formed in his throat.

"Drew," whispered Neil, his hand rising, but giving up on touching him halfway.

Andrew scooped his own arm up off his lap, hugging his torso and trying to hide as much as he could. There was a reason why he never wore T-shirts except when he was alone with his family, as he thought he would be all day. It was to avoid the looks of compassion that reduced him to nothing more than that part of his life.

Finding that look on Neil was devastating. He couldn't remember ever feeling so small in his life.

He was not ashamed of the clearest, sharpest lines on his wrists. Those memories no longer scared him, and all the demons that caused them no longer haunted him. But for some reason, the urge to cry and call out for Bee was proving to be more difficult to hush it away than ever.

“No ... It's nothing …” He blinked away tears.

No words left Neil's lips, but his eyes remained on the folded arms in front of Andrew's chest.

Perhaps that was the cue. Perhaps this was the time to be the scary Andrew everyone knew and drive Neil away. No normal person would want to deal with the mess Andrew was.

But he couldn't move or say anything. Perhaps, if he tried, he would break and collapse in a dam of repressed feelings, taking everything and everyone with him. It wouldn't be nice to watch. All the shit he felt and went through was not cool to watch . Andrew hated anyone who glamorized that kind of thing that had only hurted him and his family.

Neil put King on the floor, got up from the chair and sat down again, but this time next to Andrew.

"I have scars too," he said, his voice being loud enough just for the other to hear him clearly.

Without saying anything else, Neil turned on his back and, in a quick movement, pulled his shirt up until he was no longer wearing it.

A very small part of Andrew's head was concerned with having a gay panic of about five seconds before everything else took over. Neil Josten was suddenly half naked and sitting on his bed. In other circumstances, Andrew probably would have screamed and ran because he didn't know what to do.

At that moment, however, all he managed to do was look in horror at the chopped skin of the boy sitting in front of him. The scars were varied, ranging from straight and regular lines to meaningless patterns and burns that recovered without proper care and ended up with a melted and tugged appearance.

Andrew's arms became heavier, falling like stones beside his body. He brought one hand up to Neil's skin, but was unable to touch it. If it did, would it hurt? Would it make him feel as exposed as Andrew?

For some reason that Andrew would never understand, Neil moved back and against his touch, without wavering for a second and fully trusting his hands not to hurt him like others had done. The warm skin under Andrew's fingers was full of reliefs and ripples as he ran them through it, feeling all the slightest changes. 

"My dad used to hit me," Neil said, keeping his voice still low. "When he got home from work and it hadn't been a good day ... I had to be careful with what I did or said around him.”

Andrew touched the ugly burn on Neil's shoulder, was the largest of them and the one with the worst appearance. He was just a kid. Nothing a child, or anyone, could’ve said would justify being punished that way by the parents.

“What about your mother?” Whispered Andrew, unable to find his voice.

“She ... She just watched” explained Neil, his face was turned enough so that Andrew could see the small lonely tear that rolled down his cheek. “I don't think she wanted to see or that she agreed. Just… She was just so afraid of him that she was petrified and did nothing.”

"She was your mother," Andrew pointed out, unable to take his eyes off Neil's skin. “She should have done something.”

The two fell into silence. Andrew flattened his hand on Neil's back, feeling his lungs inflate and wither as he breathed. He was alive. Both of them were.

"Bee says my scars are the marks of someone who won a battle," Andrew said, curling his fingertips slightly in a tender motion he could hardly believe he was doing. “That they are spoils of war.”

Neil nodded. “How long have you had them?”

It was a new way to paraphrase the real question. How long ago did you try to commit suicide? 

"I was thirteen," Andrew said, suddenly not seeing a problem with being honest anymore. “I thought ... I don't know what I thought. I had so many things at the same time in my head and all these voices telling me that I was a mistake, that even Tilda didn't want me and all I did was to disrupt Aaron and Bee's life.”

Now, he knew that none of those things were true. He knew that his family, the real one who was there with him, loved him unconditionally and would not know what to do without him.

“I don't ... “ Andrew's voice broke. “I didn't want to die … I just …”

Neil blew out a breath. “I just wanted to stop it all.”

“Yeah…”

Neil turned on the bed until they were sitting facing each other. His eyes had become pools with the most crystalline shade of blue. It was hard not to look at them.

The boy raised his arms and, when there was no objection to his silent request, he wrapped Andrew's shoulders in a tight hug. That was as close as he had been to anyone in a long time - torso and arms touching, chin sunk into his shoulder. 

After getting used to it, Andrew circled Neil's waist with his own arms, keeping him there. The touch was warm, comfortable, and able to carefully untangle the lump in his throat.

It was okay. Really.

They were fine.

They were alive.

Andrew was grateful for that.

 

~

 

There was a note stuck in Neil's bedroom window that morning when he woke up. Just a sheet of paper with three phrases and a signature, attached to the outside by colored pieces of ribbon.

———————

Meet me in the parking lot at midday.

Bring your mask. 

Andrew.

Ich mag dich sehr

———————

He had no idea what the last sentence was. Judging by the fact that words seemed to be just a random jumble of letters, Neil came to the conclusion that it must be something close to German or Norwegian.

The boy came close to whipping out his cell phone and looking in some online dictionary for the meanings of those words, but as soon as he picked up the device in his hand and his eyes fell on the clock indicating that it was less than half an hour to midday, any other concern had to be postponed.

Neil jumped out of his shirt and sweatpants, leaving them on the bedroom floor on the way to his dresser. There was no time for a shower, the one he had taken the night before and almost a whole can of aerosol deodorant would have to do the job. Damn teenage odor.

The boy tucked himself into tight jeans and an orange T-shirt, stepped out into the hall and headed for the bathroom, where he punched the closed door until he got an answer.

“Occupied!” Kevin shouted from the other side.

Impatient, Neil took his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. It was five minutes away. He would be late, which meant he would keep Andrew waiting and that was unacceptable.

Fuck it, he thought, just before opening the door anyway and come face to face with a Kevin who was still zipping his pants.

“What the fuck ...?” Exclaimed Kevin.

Neil paid no attention to his brother. Instead, he buried his head in the sink and wet his hair, hoping he could fix that mess while brushing his teeth.

You see, Neil never cared much about his appearance and couldn't quite understand why everyone was obsessed with how they looked or not. Being fit, for him, was simply a requirement to play exy using your body in the best possible way. But since he had met Andrew, with his beautiful clothes and even more handsome face, he couldn't help but care. Now, every time he knew they were going to see each other, he changed his clothes at least three times and looked at himself in the mirror another five times.

Caring about your appearance in the hope of being noticed by a handsome boy was extremely exhausting. How did Kevin manage to do this for two? God knows.

When he realized that he could do nothing more than that, Neil left the bathroom and proceeded firmly and confidently to the apartment's exit door. It was only when he had his hand on the doorknob that David appeared in the hall.

“Where are you thinking you're going?” He asked, one hand on his waist and the other holding the dish towel over his shoulder, as if he were a housewife extremely fed up with children.

Neil smiled.

"Out," smiled Neil, pretending to be an idiot and pointing at the half-open door with his thumb.

David seemed in a second to give up everything and get on the first plane anywhere he didn't need to deal with teenagers. Which was at least interesting to watch since he was the coach of an exy team for pre-teens and children and that was how they ended up in each other's lives. 

Through exy. 

Neil had secretly joined the junior league behind his father’s back and it didn't take long for the coach to figure out the distaste for male authority figures he had and the constant fear of changing in the same locker room as the other boys. Shortly after that, the man took him to the team doctor who convinced him to lift his shirt so she could examine him and they discovered all the abuses he went through in his home. And then it was all a craziness of social workers, doctors, psychologists, a temporary home and then a new home fixed with the people he now considered his only family. 

"I ... I know," he said, gesturing like crazy. "But where are you going? Ya-you know...out there?”

Neil shrugged. He really had no idea where he was going and, wow , that was really cool. Everything with Andrew was always a thousand times more exciting than it would be with anyone else.

"Somewhere with Andrew," said Neil, because there was no reason to lie.

David pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

"I'll be right back," said the boy, but not sure if that was the case or not since he had no idea where they were going.

"Just ..." David turned on his side, ready to go back to whatever he was doing. “Put the damn mask on your face and do not remove it under any circumstances.”

"I know, I know," said Neil. “Abby has said that a million times.”

David pointed at him, making sure he was being heard. “Now you've heard a million  and one.”

Neil rolled his eyes and left the apartment, stepping up to the elevator and then waiting with all the world's impatience inside it. Maybe going down the four flights of stairs would be faster than going by that old, slow elevator ...

When Neil finally reached the garage floor, he headed in the direction where David was leaving his ugly yellow car, as he came to the conclusion that the vacancy Andrew's family should have been close by.

Said and done!

Andrew was so camouflaged in the body of the car that the only way to distinguish him from it was his pale skin and blond hair. A cigarette was hanging from his lips as he typed something on the phone.

"Can you smoke down here?" Neil asked, when he was close enough to be heard without shouting.

"I can't see anyone telling me otherwise." Andrew shrugged, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and putting out the butt against the nearest concrete pillar. “You are late.”

The boy didn't wait for an answer, just opened the driver's door and got in. Neil went around the car and sat in the passenger seat. For a second, he imagined that there was something different about Andrew, that his voice was harsher and his back was more tense. But it must have been just imagination.

"Well," explained Neil, buckling up “someone kept me up for most of the night, then don't blame me for sleeping late.”

Andrew rolled his eyes and turned the key in the ignition. “You don't even know the size of the double meaning of that sentence.”

Neil laughed.

“Which is...?” He asked, poking Andrew in the arm. “Are you afraid to sound too gay?”

Andrew did not respond immediately. He kept his eyes on the curves of the parking lot and the ramp that led to the blinding daylight. Only when they were already driving through the streets of Columbia did he finally say something.

“I'm not afraid to sound something that I am.”

Neil smiled. “Me neither.”

It was stupid, of course. But Neil felt very good about knowing for sure that Andrew was gay. Not that he thought he would have any chance with someone like him, but dreaming seemed even easier now.

Andrew turned on the radio and turned the volume knob. It was as if he didn't even care about being fined, as if he were in his room and no one was able to stop him. Neil was happy to recognize the music as one of the many he had heard echoing muffled through the thin wall that divided them.

He laid his head against the back of the seat and looked at Andrew, the beautiful, serene side of his face as he drove, his strong arms tensed and his thumbs drumming the steering wheel to the beat of the music. The scars on his wrists were covered by the sleeve of his thin blouse, but Neil knew they were there. He knew that, like him, they both had marks of the worst moments of their lives.

They were survivors. Spirits in common.

Even if all the things he thought about before going to sleep did not come true, Neil was unable to stop feeling very lucky to live, from all over the world, with Andrew Joseph Minyard by his side.

Andrew looked at Neil sideways, probably finding in him the most stupid and completely surrendered look in the entire universe. And it was okay if he noticed, because Neil was the worst possible person in the art of keeping secrets.

Unlike what he normally did, Andrew didn't say a “ what? ” accusingly or anything. He just faced the busy streets again and blushed slightly.

It didn't take long for them to reach their destination. It wasn't cool to admit it, but Neil was a little bit disappointed when he realized it was just some Walmart .

“So …” He said after closing the car door. "Are we going somewhere behind this big blue building or ..."

"No," denied Andrew, looking at the place as if it were the Holy Grail. “We will enter the big blue building.”

And so they did, even though Neil was still a little skeptical. As they had extremely paranoid parents who had raised them to be equally freaked out, the two of them practically took a shower with the little pot of alcohol gel at the entrance and cleaned the baskets they would use twice.

Andrew took out a list of items written on the same type of paper on which he had written down the note he had nailed in Neil's window. He tore the paper in half and gave one of the halves to the other boy.

"Meet me at the checkout line in twenty minutes," Andrew instructed, disappearing into the halls shortly after.

For about twenty seconds, Neil just stared at nothing and tried to understand what the hell was going on. And then he gave up and went after the items on his list.

Chantilly. Oreos. Chips. Ice cream.

The last item on the list was, without a doubt, the thing Neil most expected there. But understanding why Andrew had asked him to go shopping with him was still, without a doubt, something he was far from achieving.

After picking up all the things, Neil went to where Andrew had indicated and found him in one of the checkout lines, keeping five feet from the front customer as indicated.

Neil stopped behind him.

In Andrew's shopping basket were strawberries, marshmallows, four natural sandwiches and, to Neil's surprise, a bottle of vodka.

“You are twenty-one and you forgot to tell me?” Neil asked, pointing to the basket.

"No, I have a fake ID as anyone should," Andrew whispered in reply.

"I don't think that's the kind of thing people have," said Neil, also whispering.

“But I have.” Andrew shrugged. “How did you think I bought cigarettes?”

Neil shrugged. He had never really thought about it much.

When they arrived at the register, Andrew's fake ID seemed to convince the woman behind the counter without a problem. Which, frankly, was ridiculous because that piece of plastic he carried was nowhere near convincing. If anyone calculated the date of birth registered, they would realize that. No one in their right mind would believe that Andrew was forty-three years old.

The two took their purchases to the car and, as quickly as they had arrived, left.

Neil looked at the contents of the bags in his hands.

"You really should cut down on your candy intake," he advised.

"As soon as I'm going to share them with you, I'm reducing," Andrew pointed out. “Now shut up and open one of the marshmallow’s packages.”

And Neil opened it, feeling, for some reason, floating with the idea that Andrew had apparently made plans for them that afternoon.

Entering Andrew's apartment without attracting attention and carrying several bags of food in noisy packaging was a real challenge. Apparently, Betsy knew that Neil was going to spend the afternoon there and that Andrew had gone shopping for it, but the idea of alcohol was not something that would please her very much.

Andrew pointed in the direction of the corridor that led to the bedrooms so that Neil could take the bags there while he put the jar of ice cream in the refrigerator.

King was in the corridor, pawing the door and asking to enter. Neil let him pass, placing the bags on the bed next and hiding the vodka bottle under Andrew's pillow, as they had agreed.

Neil knew everything in that room as he knew it on his own. This was the result of spending almost all of his days or evenings talking and laughing and admiring the resident of that environment. Andrew was the type of person who framed his famous band posters, he also had a bookcase crammed with books of all kinds with a desk next to it, his dresser was located at the foot of his bed which was, for now, the only messy thing there.

Everything in that room gave off the same smell as Andrew, something woody and familiar. Neil took a deep breath, trying to capture as much of that essence as his lungs allowed. It was intoxicating.

He left the room, closing the door and leaving King inside (the cat had already fallen asleep and was unlikely to wake up).

"Oh, hello," cried a woman's voice behind him.

Neil turned in the direction of the voice, finding a woman who must have been Abby's age, no more than forty-something, with a sweet expression that was in stark contrast to her rumpled clothes and messy brown hair. Judging by the bags of tiredness under the eyes and the fact that she was the only resident of the place that he had not yet known, that could only be one person.

"You must be Neil," she smiled, extending her hand to him. “I'm Betsy ... But you can call me Bee.”

"Hello, Mrs. Dobson," said Neil, shaking her soft hand.

“How's your family, Neil?” She asked. “Andrew said that your mother is a nurse. You must be concerned that she is working during all this madness.”

"Yes, we are a little concerned," admitted Neil. “But Abby is careful, so that reassures us a little.”

"Good," Bee said, nodding. "When she comes back home, maybe we can make dinner or ..."

Andrew's voice entering the hallway cut her off immediately. “Bee, could you not bother my guest?”

"I wasn't bothering anyone," she said, trying to defend herself. "I was just inviting him and his family for dinner.”

"Oh, what a pity," dramatized Andrew, opening his bedroom door and pushing Neil inside of it. "He doesn't eat.”

Neil couldn’t see Bee's face, but he was pretty sure it was an exact replica of the one David constantly addressed to his kids.

"Leave the door open," she instructed.

Andrew closed the door.

"Oops ..."

Neil started laughing while being pushed even further into the room. King was still lying in the same place, his belly, now turned up, was the only sign of movement.

"Hey hey hey," he said, laughing. "Why don't you want me next to your mother? Are you ashamed of me or something?”

Andrew stopped pushing him and took the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, heading towards the window.

“Hear me out boy” he said, sitting on the parapet and lighting the tube “I'm doing you a favor. Bee would undoubtedly do all her therapist business, trying to analyze you to find out if you are someone reliable or not to stay next to one of her children. I even felt sorry for Aaron's girlfriend, Katelyn, when he first brought her here.”

Neil's heart seemed to skip a beat. Andrew had just compared that situation to his brother's courtship. But… what did that meant? Was Neil just getting it all wrong only because it was what he wanted so badly to be?

Whether Andrew realized what he had just said or not, he didn't let it show in his expression.

Neil sat on the computer chair, which he practically had declared his at that point, and slid to the window. He reached out in Andrew's direction and who handed him the cigarette, his fingers brushing lightly on the exchange and ruffling all the hair on his arm.

Smoking was not something he was used to do it often before that quarantine, just now and then when he needed to relax. Apparently he was going to end up leaving that whole period of imprisonment with a new unhealthy addiction.

“What are we going to do?” He asked. “During the afternoon, I mean.”

Andrew's eyes seemed to be made of pure gold when they were in the sunlight.

“What do you want to do?” said Andrew.

Neil laughed. “I don't know ... You called me here.”

Andrew grinned and stood up from the parapet, pulling Neil with him towards the bed and giving him just enough time to put out his cigarette on the wooden window.

MY GOD. My God. My God. My God.

What did that meant? What was that whole day's meaning? Why were they sitting on the bed? Why was Andrew smiling?

Neil’s entire Gay Panic™ went away when Andrew took his notebook from under the bed and then reached under the pillow to pull the bottle. Part of Neil wanted to leave at that very moment. What was he thinking they were going to do?

"Let's play something," said Andrew, opening his notebook and selecting a movie. The corpse bride . “Whenever someone says any word derived from death or the verb to die , we take a shot.”

Laying on a bed next to Andrew while they drank absurd amounts of alcohol without having eaten anything but marshmallows before was not the smartest plan in the world. If Neil said that he paid devoted attention to the film, he would be lying, since he was unable to take his eyes off the boy lying beside him.

When the movie was over, they had already said goodbye to more than half a bottle and came to the conclusion, thanks to Neil's loose laughter and Andrew's sobs, that it was better to stop.

They sat facing each other and ate their natural sandwiches. The bread was a little wet because of the tomato and the lettuce had already withered and blackened at the edges, not even the turkey breast was the best. But Neil could have sworn it was the best snack he'd ever eaten in his life.

At one point, Neil put the bread on his bent knee and held out both hands in fists forward, asking Andrew to do the same. And then they started playing with each other's hands, something he had learned from Kevin when they met, whoever retreated ahead of time or was hit missed. Their knees were touching, their feet were touching, and neither of them was actually escaping the other's hands.

Maybe it was just alcohol deceiving him. Perhaps their hearts were beating so loudly that it had become audible.

When they stopped playing, Neil started to feed King a few bits of his bread. What else could he do? The cat was the cutest thing in the world and was nudging him with a furry paw to ask for food.

“Did you know” said Neil, giving a piece of turkey breast to the kitten “that after each player makes three moves in a game of chess, there are one hundred and twenty-one million possible paths to be taken?”

Andrew blinked.

“No?” He replied, biting his own sandwich. “How do you know that?”

“I just know.” Neil shrugged.

Andrew laughed. God ... Neil loved the sound of his laughter so much. He wanted to hear that forever in an infinite loop.

"So you're the type of person who goes around distilling a lot of random knowledge when you’re drunk?" Andrew asked, still smiling.

King meowed, nudging Neil.

“If you are the type of person who laughs at this knowledge” said Neil, having completely lost the filter of what said about half a bottle of vodka before “then yeah. Yes, I am that type.”

Silence. Meow.

"You have such a beautiful laugh," whispered Neil, his voice being the only noise besides meowing. “Wish I could make you laugh more often…”

It may have been Neil's drunken worm brain, but he thought he saw Andrew bend a little towards him, his eyes blinking slowly.

What would have happened? Would they have kissed? Would either of them have backed off?

What actually happened was King jumping up and pulling the sandwich, along with a skin fillet, from Neil's hand, which, in turn, gave a shrill cry of pain. Andrew jumped back, stepping out of the bed and blushing so hard that his whole face took on a strong shade of red.

If teleportation was possible and real, it was more than clear that the two would disappear from that room in the same instant. But, as it wasn't, they took a deep breath and exchanged alternating looks between each other's faces and the cat that happily ate the sandwich on the bedroom floor.

Neil took the cut to his mouth, but received a slap on his hand before he was even able to reach it.

"Disgusting," exclaimed Andrew. "Don't do that. Stay here, I'll get a band-Aid.”

Andrew left the room and the other boy there, alone with his confused and guilty conscience.

Neil felt a bit dizzy. Floating judging himself in his out-of-body experience. But it had nothing to do with alcohol, any effect of it on him was gone the moment shame took him. What was he doing? It wasn't supposed to be like this with Andrew. He wanted it to be real, not that all his courage came bottled up. 

Andrew came back into the room, carrying one first aid kit under his arm. He sat in front of Neil and gently took his hand. his eyes remain attentive to minor injury during the cleaning process to finally cap it with a bandage.

Neil raised his hand at eye level and could not manage to hold his smile.

“Hello Kitty band-Aids” Neil observed.

Andrew nodded, he took Neil's hand again and brought it to his lips, kissing over the pink bandage.

“To heal faster” he said as he walked away

Neil’s cheeks tingled.

“Thank you” he whispered.

Andrew gave him a small smile and put the first aid kit aside when he got up and went to his bookshelf and began searching for something, running his fingers through his dusty titles and muttering to himself something Neil couldn't hear. 

On the floor, King meowed, looking pleased to finish his snack. Neil reached out to stroke his head, which made him purr.

"Did you know cats have thirty-two muscles in each ear?" "Neil asked.

"And we’re back with the unknown facts" announced Andrew.

 

~

 

That had been a terrible idea.

Andrew knew it was a terrible idea from the moment it left Nick's mouth. No good ideas had even been prophesied by Nicholas Hemmick .

But for some crazy reason, Aaron agreed and Bee made snacks and Andrew was forced to knock on his neighbor's front door.

" You go through the door, " Nicky had demanded. “ You know, like a normal person.”

But nothing between him and Neil Josten was normal. They had met on a fire escape during a pandemic. They talked about conspiracy theories and supported each other. They had almost kissed. Well ... At least Andrew believed that was what was about to happen that day before King committed a homicide against a sandwich and cut off any and all possibility.

Thinking about the likely near kiss was not Andrew's favorite thing. Because a) it hadn't really happened and that was why it was a almost kiss, also because b) maybe it wasn't really. Alcohol had never strongly affected Andrew, but Neil didn't seem to handle the substance well, his soft voice and the constant random and useless information was living proof of that. If, for some reason, they had moved on and kissed that afternoon, what percentage of Neil in relation to the alcohol that would actually be there.

And it was going over all of his “what ifs” that Andrew found the courage to knock on the door of the neighboring apartment and invite Neil and Kevin to the real hell that would become that afternoon in a matter of minutes. 

Five was a large number of people for a small room with a single sofa, so the disposition of all the boys was not as comfortable as possible. Aaron and Kevin were sitting on the couch with the twins' Xbox controls in hand and shouting at the TV screen while Nick, who was sitting on the back with his legs on the back of the other two boys, was making a real scandal, a little too excited with an electronic football game. Andrew and Neil, on the other hand, were sitting together on the floor, immersed in their own little world.

When King came into the room, Neil stretched his legs out so he could climb onto his lap. Andrew did not understand the boy's obsession with his cat, but he thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. He reached out and scratched behind the cat’s ears, which purred loudly in approval.

“Do you think he loves us?” Asked Neil.

"I don't know," said Andrew, frowning. “I mean, do animals understand the concept of love even if we don't? What is love? Do we convince ourselves that it is real or is it all just our hormones confusing us?”

"Fuck you," Neil cursed, covering King's ears so he wouldn't hear the things Andrew was saying. “He loves me and I love him. You're just jealous because your cat likes me better.”

Neil's sulky face made Andrew laugh, loudly and throwing his head back against the wall. On the couch, the shouting stopped when Nick and Aaron looked at the two in amazement. Andrew shrugged, what is it? Can't I laugh anymore?

While Nicky returned his immediate attention to the game, Aaron kept his eyes on the scene on the floor. Only that he wasn't looking at Andrew, but at Neil, studying the boy's every move as if he were an ameba in a test tube or something. Andrew recognized that look as the one he had directed at Katelyn the day they first met and she was introduced to him as his brother's girlfriend. It was the kind of look you expected when the person you loved most in the world could be threatened by someone. Whatever Aaron found in Neil, it didn't seem like a terrible thing, as he easily returned to his game.

The boys played a few more games until Kevin finally gave up on Aaron and then put the controls aside. Which sucked, because it made Andrew have to join the conversation.

"So," said Kevin, pointing to Andrew and Aaron, "which one is older?"

"Andrew," said Aaron. “He was born five minutes before me.”

Their medical history said that Andrew had been born first and that a complication at the time of birth caused Aaron to be born dead. For three minutes, the first three of his existence in the outside world, Andrew lived in a world without his other half. But the doctors managed to bring his brother back and, little did they know, to keep them both alive.

If Andrew was still walking and breathing around the world, he owed it not only to himself, but also to Aaron. It was his brother who held his hand on the worst nights and who stood by Andrew when he felt less than nothing.

“And that makes you the straight version of him?” Kevin said, pointing from Aaron to Andrew.

"That makes me the better version of him," Aaron said, straightening up.

Andrew grabbed a pillow that was beside him on the floor and threw at his brother hard.

"Go on dreaming," he replied with a grimace.

Neil moved a little uneasily beside Andrew. “I don't think you are so alike.”

Kevin wrinkled his nose, as if his brother had just said the stupidest thing in the entire universe.

"They are twins," he recalled.

“I know I know. But…” Neil looked at Andrew. “You are different.”

Cough. “ Gays.” Cough.

Andrew would have turned to Nicky and made him regret even being born, had he not been too busy looking at Neil and proving in the most practical way that what his cousin had said was the purest of truths. 

Andrew's heart told him to take Neil's hand, flee the country and go live on a paradise island just the two of them and about fifty cats for the boy to be cute and pamper all day. However, all that left his mouth was:

“You and Kevin are identical. Two fucking junkies.”

Neil rolled his eyes. 

“Here you come with this teasing with my exy again” he complained.

"And we are not the same," Kevin said. “I am better.”

“You are a stubborn headstrong person,” said Neil. “I don't know how Jeremy and Jean can handle dating you. They have a choice. They should run as fast as they can.”

The impression Andrew had was that the two of them were going to slap each other at any second and then laugh about it as if there was no tomorrow.

“At least I date whoever I want.” Kevin shrugged, looking at Andrew next. 

What was that? 

Was it so obvious that Andrew liked Neil? 

He swore he knew how to disguise (or at least he tried). 

Unless ... No. 

That thing that was going on while they were drunk didn't count and Neil had never said anything about the note. It is true that, perhaps, he should not have written such a confession in German, but being very open about his feelings was not something Andrew was used to. His gay ass could never be that straightforward with that kind of thing. All he could do was wait for Neil to magically guess his feelings for him. Or at least use the fucking internet to search the fucking translation for a fucking sentence.

“I ... Ham ... Yeah …” Neil stammered, giving up saying anything and just frowning as hard as he could. He looked like the cat in the grumpy cat meme. Damn ... Andrew thought it was adorable.

"Wait, wait," Nicky called, raising his hands to draw attention to himself. “Do you have two boyfriends?”

Kevin shrugged.

"Some with so much, others with so little," murmured Nicky.

“Dude, but what about Erik?” Remembered Aaron, looking at his cousin. “You guys have been dating for years.”

“Erik is on the other side of the world, right there in Germany.” Nicky shrugged, then made a cry. “I am so lonely.”

" Ah, but you're not worthy of the rice and beans you eat, that's all," Aaron said, but that was his opinion of most people.

That night, when Neil and Kevin had returned to their home which was three steps away from theirs, Aaron helped Andrew clean up the mess of glasses and food containers that had been left in the room (God knows where Nicky was always stuck when they had to organize something that had been his idea). They collected all the garbage in silence and it was only when they were washing and storing used dishes that Aaron said something.

“You really like him, right?” He asked, turning to Andrew.

The boy did not answer that. The two had never had this kind of conversation. About who liked whom or whatever. Still, Aaron was the first person to know that Andrew liked men. His brother knew about the whatever it was he had with a guy two years older named Roland once, but it's not like it really mattered. They didn't talk about feelings and Andrew only knew about Katelyn when Aaron had already moved worlds and mountains to conquer her. But there they were, talking about feelings with a bunch of soapy glasses and plates between them, and Andrew had no idea what to say.

“I know this is none of my business” guaranteed Aaron “... But you are my brother and I want to see you happy I want ... I want to see you laughing more often as you were laughing today.”

Andrew blinked.

“So," Aaron continued, soaping up a glass again,"if he does you good and you really like him, you should be together. You can see he likes you and I think he might be able to take care of ... you.”

"I don't need anyone to take care of me," murmured Andrew, because he was unable to just say thank you and go on with his life. 

"Yes, you do," Aaron insisted, now tucking his glasses under the water to rinse. "You keep taking care of everyone. Me, Nicky, Bee and Renee. You’re always so worried about us and defending us from everything, and forgets yourself. So, yes . Yes, you need someone who is on your side and takes care of you. Because you, my brother, do a really crappy job when it comes to it.”

Andrew's heart felt big and warm in his chest. He exchanged a look with Aaron and laughed, feeling the implicit complicity between them.

Andrew was not the type of person to hug. Or at least he had ceased to be after they grew up, ever since he was clinging to Aaron like a baby koala when they were younger. However, between hugging Neil and starting to kiss Bee daily goodnight, he could feel that he was becoming more susceptible to such an act. He raised his arms and crossed them behind his brother's head, resting his chin on his shoulder. Aaron hugged him back, wetting the back of Andrew's shirt with his hands full of soap.

"You are the most important person in my life," whispered Andrew.

Because if they were really going to get into that gummy vibe, he had no reason not to jump in head first.

"You're mine, too," said Aaron, tightening his arms around Andrew. “My one-person family.”

Andrew smiled. It was an old thing between them, when they sat together on a bed in one of their temporary homes, when they were nothing more than five years old. At that time, before Bee and Nicky, one was the only person the other had. Aaron nudged Andrew in the ribs, making him laugh and getting punched in the stomach in response.

They didn't need a roof over their heads to be home. Andrew and Aaron, when together, were home.

 

~

 

The sound of cooking pots together with the aroma of something baking was the definitive proof that Abby was finally home.

Ah... Neil loved those days. And she seemed so happy to finally have returned to her husband and children after long weeks at work, being tested and isolated before they released her, that she didn't even care when the three huddled around the kitchen table to tease her.

“Honey," said David, being the sweet he was whenever he was around the one person who left him completely soft and without quick arguments “you don't have to cook. You must be tired. Let… let me and them boys handle that.”

Kevin stifled a laugh. Yeah, Neil understood the reason. Next to Abby, they were the boys because she would never accept that he called her babies little shits or anything like that even with a smile on his face and in their teasing tone. 

"No, no," said Abby, gesturing with her free hand as she placed a glass platter on the table. "I miss it. And, dear, we don't have to pretend that you really ate some real food in all these weeks that I've been away.”

"Neil ate it," said Kevin, gossipy as only he was. “At his boyfriend's house.”

Abby stopped. “Is Neil dating?”

If murder were not something that would send him to jail for many years and that would destroy his entire career on exy, maybe Kevin would no longer be alive by then because Neil would have committed a crime a long time ago. It would be a shame because the world would lose a great striker and perhaps several fans would be devastated, but it was a small price to pay for peace. 

"He's our next-door neighbor," he said, open-mouthed.

"He's not my boyfriend," Neil muttered, crossing his arms as an upset little child.

"Who?” David interjected. “The blond and evil-faced boy? But I was already thinking about the clothes I would wear to take you to the altar.”

Neil could feel the length of his neck to the tips of his ears heating up.

Kevin laughed out loud. 

“If he's not your boyfriend, then who were you with all day?” He probed, knowing the answer very well.

"Andrew," said Neil, with a grunt. “It's called friendship. Have you heard of that?”

“I don't want to kiss my friends.” Kevin shrugged.

Neil mortally regretted telling Kevin about the day he almost got a kiss and ended up with a new scar on his finger. At least he didn't mention the alcohol in front of their parents.

“What are you talking about?” Neil wrinkled his nose. “Kevin, you've already kissed all of your friends. You're dating Jean and Jeremy who, until yesterday, were your best friends. Damn, you even kissed Matt who, in theory, is straight.”

“Did you kiss Boyd?” David exclaimed, making a face. “I thought he was dating your team captain.”

"We were playing truth or dare," explained Kevin, waving the air with one hand. “Dan even laughed.”

“Okay…” Abby murmured. “Apparently I spend only a few weeks away from home to fight a pandemic and I miss several news. So ... You can start telling me everything.”

Luckily for Neil, the evening's conversation didn't just revolve around him. Everyone had things they wanted to share to keep Abby updated on home stuff and the newest memes on the internet. Andrew's name was only mentioned again to inform that Bee wanted to invite them to dinner when they were all well and at home. The four of them ate their dinner (roasted chicken with potatoes, mashed peas, salad and natural strawberry juice) talking and laughing. 

Neil didn’t used to think much of Abby and David as his parental figures, after all Nathan and Mary were the ones who brought him into the world and proved him until the age of ten even though they treated him with such lack of affection and love. What he had in his old home was not something to look up to and admire, however it was the family that welcomed him that were really the ones with who belonged. So yes, Neil was feeling immensely happy to have his mother back home safe and sound.

After dinner, Neil went to his room and, before grabbing his headphones to muffle the outside world, looked briefly at the fire exit. It was empty. All right, as Kevin had said before, they had spent almost all day together. That afternoon, the two lay on the rug in Andrew's room and stared at the ceiling while talking about extraterrestrial lives and shared theories about the concept albums the blond boy listened to.

Andrew had made a playlist for him. That was the only thing Neil wanted to hear until after his death.

The boy started to pack some clothes that were thrown around his room. If Abby decided to come in at any moment, she would have a stroke and spend hours talking in his ear about how it was necessary to take responsibility for your things to make them last longer. It was good advice, but normally Neil didn't have the energy needed when it came to being organized in his room.

I like that you broke ... broken like me ... hum hum hum huuum” he hummed, throwing some T-shirts into the basket of dirty clothes.

Neil reached into a pocket of one of his pants, took out a sheet of paper folded into a small dumpling. He tossed his pants into the basket and carefully unfolded the sheet, smoothing it over his thigh.

It was the note Andrew had left for him the day Neil wanted to kiss him so badly that his bones hurt. On the day when everything seemed in place. Almost four weeks had passed since then, and although nothing very alarming had changed between them, it was possible to notice the exchanged looks and more delicate touches. Whether these things were real or whether they were just the result of Neil's deep desire for them to be, he didn't know.

Ich mag dich sehr. 

He took the phone out of his pocket and disconnected the headphones. Since he found out that Nicky's boyfriend was German and that his cousin had taught the twins the language, there was no longer any doubt as to which language it was. Neil opened the translator and, as quickly as he could using one hand, he typed in the phrase.

Neil's heart accelerated a little and he felt a little dizzy.

I like you very much.

Neil sat on his bed, staring in disbelief at the phone itself. Did that mean…? 

Damn it. Fuck. Shit. Ass.

If the answer to that question was yes… Neil was the most imbecile creature that had ever traveled the planet Earth. If Andrew felt the same way about him and… How to deal with it now? What was he supposed to do? 

That note was lying there in his room for four long weeks. The knowledge that what he felt for Andrew was mutual had been confined in a pocket for fucking too long time. Neil deserved a punch. No, no. He deserved to be hit with an exy racket right in his ribs. Andrew should be the one responsible for hitting him. And it would be okay because, guess what… Neil deserved it.

What was he even doing there standing like an idiot?

Neil got up and went to his bedroom window, lifting the glass and squeezing it until he came out to the emergency exit. That path was already so familiar to him that he didn't even find it so strange anymore. He leaned on Andrew's window and looked into the room. There was no one there. Well, no one but King who looked at Neil and meowed, as if he were calling him an idiot and asking why he appeared just then.

Yeah, he agreed with the kitten.

The boy could come in and sit on the chair or the bed to wait until Andrew got back to the room, but ... The night was so beautiful and cool. He sat on the iron floor and leaned his head against Andrew's window, holding the note tight in his hand.

This was the place where they had met. For now, Neil just wanted to close his eyes and think about Andrew.

 

~

 

The moment Bee walked into the room, where the twins and Nick were lying watching a movie, with her hair washed and wearing clothes of the kind that can be worn in society, they knew immediately what that meant. The woman had finally completed her thesis and would now return to live as a functional human being and stop eating snacks that were stored under her bed.

That prompted a celebration. The family ordered Japanese food and popped two bottles of champagne, making gifts and feeling the most proud they had ever been in their lives.

"To Dr. Betsy Jo Dobson," announced Andrew, raising his glass.

“To my beautiful children” Bee amended “Aaron, Andrew and Nicholas, who gave me motivation and strength to continue writing this thesis, even when technology failed me and I wanted to destroy my computer.”

"I'm going to cry," said Nicky.

"To us," finished Aaron, smiling.

“To us” they all agreed.

The food was great. For dessert, they had lemon pie and ice cream. Andrew was so happy and satisfied that he felt like his body was going to explode in confetti, glitter and other very gay things that he kept hidden under dark clothes and a troubled attitude.

This time, Nick and Aaron helped to clean the kitchen and get rid of the scraps before disappearing into the living room, which meant that all the work took much less time than it used to. Unlike his brother and cousin, Andrew went down the hall towards the bedrooms.

“Are you going to bed yet?” Bee asked, as they stopped where they were supposed to part ways.

“Hmm…” Andrew thought, feeling his heart pound with an idea that he hadn't even realized was happening until he was questioned by his mother. “No, not yet.”

Bee smiled. “Are you going to see Neil?”

"Yes, that," he confessed, shrugging. “He will be happy to know that you finished your thesis.”

"Okay," Betsy said, looking elated behind her glasses. “Send him a hug.”

"Okay," murmured the boy.

Andrew put his hand on the door handle, but turned back to the woman before anything else.

“Bee?” He called.

She approached again. “Yes?”

“I …” Andrew took a deep breath. “I like him. Neil…”

It wasn't like she didn't know. Andrew knew that she knew. But saying it out loud for the first time was crazy and it made his heart race. 

Betsy looked at him with such love in her eyes that Andrew wanted to cry.

“And how do you feel about that?” She asked, doing her best and failing to hold back her smile. “About liking Neil?”

Andrew smiled too and shrugged. “Good? Happy? I don't know ... It makes me feel light and my heart beats fast. It makes me not afraid to trust.”

Betsy cupped Andrew's face with her hand, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs.

"That's great, honey," she said. “I know that sometimes you do not believe me, Andrew, but you deserve so much happiness.”

He touched her forehead with his. “I believe you.”

The two laughed and Bee hugged her son tightly. She may not have been the one who brought him into the world, but she was the only mother he knew and needed.

"Good night, Mom," he said, kissing her cheek.

"Good night and good luck, my baby," she replied, pressing her lips to his forehead.

Andrew waited for Bee to be in her room before opening his door and entering. He had a mission. His hands were sweating and his chest was throbbing, but the only chance he would give up on that would be dying and being veiled in a closed coffin.

King, who was lying on the bed with an expression of boredom, watched him cross the room for a few seconds and then decided he didn't care about it and turned his back on the owner. 

The boy reached the window and opened it. It was only when he was beginning to propel himself out that he noticed the figure sitting at the fire exit with his face turned to the sky and his eyes closed.

“Neil?” Andrew exclaimed, clearly surprised.

Neil blinked a few times before focusing those big blue eyes on Andrew. When he did, he seemed to lose his breath completely.

"Hi," he sighed.

Andrew pushed himself completely out of the room, sitting next to Neil, with his legs crossed and his eyes glued to his hands. Five minutes earlier he was so sure and convinced of what he was going to do, but now? All the words seemed to have eluded him and he couldn't even face the boy he was hopelessly in love with. 

“Bee finished her thesis,” he said, because he didn't want to feed that awkward silence.

“Good,” Neil murmured, seeming to be millions of miles away.

What the hell was he doing? Where had he put all that crazy courage that had hit him?

Andrew had made a plan. He was going to go to Neil's room, tell him how he felt and, luckily, receive a positive response. Then they would kiss madly that the whole universe would stop to watch because that would be the most beautiful kiss the whole history has ever witnessed.

But instead, he was sitting and staring at nothing while he suffered from an unprecedented panic that paralyzed him and made him feel a huge, terrible and idiotic fear of allowing himself to live.

Bee had said he deserved happiness. Aaron believed that, too. Who did his stupid, screwed-up conscience think it was to whisper him anything that went against their belief?

Andrew took a deep breath and stood up. “Neil …”

“Andrew …” Neil said, also getting up.

Silence. The two looked at each other for a few seconds. What were the chances of Andrew passing out?

"You first," said Neil.

The boy nodded, opening and closing his fists several times to calm himself.

“I …”

“No,” cut Neil. “Fuck it, I’ll go first.”

Neil looked like he was about to throw up and was holding a paper so tightly in his left hand that it was crumpled. Andrew had never seen him so tense then, even though it might hinder his confession, he didn't oppose. 

“Okay” muttered Andrew.

Neil took a deep breath, staring at the ground briefly before spiking his eyes on Andrew.

“You really like me?” Asked Neil, so firm and convinced that he even seemed to be having an outbreak there in front of him. "Because ... because I like you.”

Andrew's heart looked like it was about to slip out of his throat. That probably wasn't even possible, but he had seen it in a horror movie and was quite traumatized.

For a second, he thought that was exactly what was going to happen. Neil was there, saying those words, as he died. The headlines would be ridiculous. Young gay, emo and desperate boy, spits his own heart upon hearing confession of love. Understand the case.

And then, the crumpled paper in Neil's hand made sense. Maybe someone had really learned to use Google Translate.

Andrew exhaled and resumed breathing normally. He hadn't even realized he was holding his breath.

"I like you," he whispered. Then he increased his tone a little more, just enough so that he really could be heard. “I like you, Neil.”

Like Andrew, Neil seemed to exhale. He smiled. And then he laughed. A sound that was made of pure relief and accompanied by so much emotion that it infected Andrew.

Neil was so, so beautiful.

“God ... I was so nervous” he confessed, sighing. His eyes met Andrew's. “I'm going to kiss you now. Is that okay?”

"Yes," smiled Andrew.

Neil's hands found him first, then his torso, forehead, nose, and finally his lips. And his lips on Andrew's were soft and warm, softening his whole life and warming him from all the winter that had once inhabited him.

Somewhere in the world, probably, fireworks were bursting in the skies and that kiss simply claimed them for themself. Because the whole universe started and ended whenever Neil's teeth bit Andrew's lips and their tongues touched.

Without moving away, the two sat on the floor again. Looking equally fearful and brave, Neil positioned his legs around Andrew's hips and sat on his lap.

Andrew wondered if Neil, whose hands were holding the back of his neck, could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. Did he know that each of those beats were screaming his name tirelessly?

Their lips touched again and it was even better than before. Each kiss, each new touch, move or affection, was better than the previous one. It was difficult to breathe and stay healthy. Andrew was on the verge of madness and he didn't even care. He wanted to jump once and for all into the abyss of insanity that was being so close to the source of the purest electricity that was Neil.

When their mouths parted, they were smiling so much that their cheeks hurt.

"Hi," whispered Neil.

Andrew rubbed the tips of their noses together. “Hi.”

Would all that euphoria at some point leave their bodies?

“There's lemon pie inside, do you want a piece?” Asked Andrew.

That was a strange way to invite Neil in, but there was nothing between them that was not. 

"Yes, I do," said Neil.

But then they were kissing again and didn't seem anxious to stop anytime soon.

 

~~

 

Neil blinked his eyes trying to get used to the light coming in through the window.

When he went to sleep, he thought he would wake up confused about where he was as people did in movies and books. But Andrew's arms wrapped around him and King's warm furry body against his back was, in fact, so familiar and comfortable that he wouldn't be able to miss it. 

He let his mind travel through every moment of the night before. The pie. The kisses. Lie on Andrew's bed. Talking and chatting until they were both too sleepy for Neil to get up and jump over the windows to his room.

Andrew's back tensed and stretched under Neil's fingers. His eyes opened sleepily, matching his rumpled face and hair perfectly.

Andrew yawned. “Good morning …”

Neil smiled and kissed the tip of his chin.

"Good morning," he replied.

Andrew was smiling. He was beautiful.

“May we stay here for another five minutes?” Neil asked.

“May we stay here forever?” Andrew asked, in the voice he used to use with King.

Andrew's arms tightened against Neil, bringing him one closer.

“We may.” Neil breathed in Andrew’s collarbone.

They couldn't. But it was good to pretend that they could..

Neil was feeling so happy in that exact moment that he didn't even remember being once bored during that quarantine. 



Notes:

Hi, glad you make til here. Hope you've enjoied the reading and had a good time. This was my fist Andreil fic and also my first ever attempt to write in english, I'm hopping it didn't turn out so bad. Maybe I'll comeback with more later. If you want to know about new fics and see me complain about life in English and Portuguese, go follow me on twitter at @minyarpitch.

Comments and Kudos are welcomed :)

(I never know what to write in this notes)

Anyway, see ya
xoxo, vic