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Despite finally being on the same team after years apart, Andrew found himself home alone. The season was just gearing up to start. Yesterday, along with the rest of the defense line, Andrew had been subjugated to standing and posing in full gear with his racket for hours. They'd had good snacks and hadn't tried to team him up with anyone for photos. Neil—the heathen—had left at 4:45 am to go on his morning jog and had run all the way to the stadium. Andrew had woken at a respectable 9:15 am to a text from Neil explaining where he'd gone. It was the offensive lines' turn for pictures today. Neil was more of a star on the court as one of the starting strikers, he'd be pulled aside for interviews and put into group photos.
Andrew dropped his phone beside him on the bed and let out a deep sigh. There were things that needed to be done but he couldn't make his limbs move. He wanted to burrow under the soft sheets and waste the day in bed. It was an obscenely large and comfortable bed. There was plenty of room for both Andrew and Neil to stretch out in the King size and still have space between them.
Mentally, Andrew gave himself a countdown. He took a breath and went backward from five. At one, he forced himself to sit up and look around. The room was quiet. Neil had fed the cats when he'd gone out on his run so there were no hunger-pained yowls outside his door. Both cats were generally quiet things, slinking along the walls and popping into rooms unnoticed. King would curl up beside Andrew on the sofa or in a chair, but they typically kept their own spaces. It was vaguely amusing that the cats they'd adopted ended up with the same personal space boundaries as their humans.
Andrew got up from bed, toes digging into the carpet and going to the closet. He already had an idea about what to wear, something simple and loose. His list for the day was an annoying but necessary one. Andrew snagged black jeans and a pair of socks before turning to his shirts. Seeing all of them hung in colored order was pleasing. Andrew wasn't averse to color. He pulled a cream hoodie—a skeleton middle finger screen printed onto the front—from the hanger. A plain white t-shirt went underneath the hoodie before he tugged it over his head. Andrew stepped into the hallway, closing the bedroom door behind him.
In the kitchen, both cats were on hammocks suction cupped to the window. Sir popped her head up and blinked lazily before resuming her position of a melted puddle. There were meal-prepped boxes in the fridge that Neil had made on Sunday. He frowned, the weird time between breakfast and lunch made him unsure which to eat. Neither sounded good really. Andrew shut the fridge and moved to the coffee pot instead. He waited as it brewed slowly, the smell filling the room. Andrew added a healthy amount of creamer to his thermos before taking a long sip.
He grabbed Neil's keys, the car needing the tires rotated and pointed at the cats. “Guard the house.”
King yawned in reply, showing off her sharp teeth. The effect was ruined by her rolling over and presenting her belly for a single pat. Andrew caved, crouching down and patting her soft fur. With the offering received, King returned to her hammock and resumed laying in the sun.
Their garage has two cars, a beautiful, sleek, black, new Maserati and Neil's atrocious thing. Andrew has to give him credit though, it was a Porsche. The thing is just the most god-awful orange color there is. It had been a joke. A cruel joke Neil will never let Andrew live down.
Andrew's third year at Palmetto they'd broken into the campus pool at 1 am and smoked and swam until they grew too lazy. Andrew had quietly admitted that he didn't despite the color orange. Neil was mildly appalled. Granted the vibrancy that Palmetto painted their buildings wasn't the type of orange Andrew cared for. Ever since Neil would buy things in the most garish form of the color. He'd wear hoodies and shorts and walk past Andrew deliberately to get some sort of reaction. When they'd finally gotten a home together the joke seemed to have fallen off until Neil mentioned getting a car for himself. He'd come home a week later driving the sporty pumpkin and Andrew had dropped their groceries on the garage floor.
Now he was resigned to driving the damn thing to the shop. The appointment was in half an hour. Andrew sat in the car and opened the garage. Their neighborhood was quiet. It was gated, manned by a 24/7 security staff that patrolled the streets. The security gave Neil a bit of peace of mind. There were other people on the team that lived in the neighborhood, their coach unfortunately was three houses down.
Andrew lifted his fingers off the wheel in a small wave as he waited for the gate to open. The guard on duty smiled and waved back. The streets were thankfully bare as he drove. Most everyone already being at work. The drive to the shop wasn't long, close to fifteen minutes. Andrew sipped his coffee as he went, eyes watching the traffic lights. The Porsche mechanic shop was attached to the dealership. Andrew navigated through the parking lot and the new cars sitting waiting to be bought. He slid into a spot at one of the garages, getting out and heading to the door.
Inside was sleek and modern. Despite the cooler weather outside, the air conditioner was running on full blast. Andrew scrunched deeper into his hoodie.
The man at the desk stood with a smile. “What can we do for you today, sir?” He extended a hand which Andrew ignored.
“Appointment at 10, Josten,” Andrew said, fiddling with one of the rings on his fingers where they're tucked into his hoodie pocket.
A glance down at his desk and the guy nodded. “Got you right here, we’ll have it done in no time. Can I get you anything to drink?”
Andrew lifted his thermos in answer, dropping the keys onto the counter. The old keychain bore a faded palmetto fox paw that clinked loudly. Andrew walked to the plush leather seats and sunk into one of the chairs. There were glory shoots of Porsche vehicles rotating on the screen. Another TV played a car race. Andrew sipped his coffee and brought out his phone.
To: NAJM
Your dumpster is in the shop
Andrew tapped the edge of his phone as the message was sent. Neil wouldn’t be able to answer for a while. Most likely he wouldn’t even check his phone until the end of the photo shoot. Honestly, Andrew thought, he was lucky that the message showed up blue instead of green—Neil at least left his phone on this time.
He pulled up a game on his phone, a simple one where he connected two points and gained coins to connect even more points. There were small little colored cars that moved between them. It was a mindless game that he fell into easily. The simple mechanics were fun.
Andrew’s phone buzzed with texts every so often. Aaron and Katelyn figuring out when they both have breaks in their residencies to come visit. Andrew knew that he and Neil would end up going in the end. The times never line up for his brother and Katelyn to get more than two days off together. Andrew rubbed at his jaw, he hadn't shaved when he'd gotten up and the scruff scratched his palm. A text from a team manager popped up and Andrew swiped it away. It was his day off, he can wait to look at it tomorrow. If it's anything important they'll tell Neil who will actually care.
Jazz music played softly in the background. With the race cars going in circles, it oddly matched. Andrew zoned out for a bit, eyes on the sleek cars being shown on the TV. The side door opened occasionally and the sound of mechanics at work burst in. He didn’t register that enough time had passed until the employee from behind the counter was walking over to him. Keys hung from the man's fingers and his smile was blinding.
“She's all done,” he handed the keys over. “We’ll text and let you know when to schedule the next one!”
Andrew nodded and took the keys. The man scrolled through the iPad in his hand.
“You signed up for autopay so it will just be pulled directly from your account, have a wonderful day.”
Andrew slipped his sunglasses on and took a long sip of his coffee. Interacting with peppy people was a chore. He left the mechanic shop, eyes finding the horrendous car with a heavy sigh. Andrew got back into the car, dropping the keys into the cup holder beside his thermos and shoving his finger into the button to start it. The roar of the engine was pleasant at least. The car vibrated beneath his feet as the engine came alive. He tore out of the lot, merging into the slow traffic, and heading toward the larger part of town. There was a small grocery list in his head that he knew Neil would forget to grab. If Neil's car smelled like cat litter for a few days, it was the bastard's own fault. He parked at the smaller neighborhood grocery store. It wasn’t their usual one, but it was the closest to the dealership and close to Dairy Queen. Stepping out of the car he ignored a couple standing on the other side of the cart corral and yanked his own free.
The blast of wind and air conditioning from the store hit him as the doors slid open. Cat litter and cat food were at the top of his list. They had run out of wet food once and Andrew’s ankles don't want a repeat of the event. The store was blessedly quiet. The pet food section was close to the back and he didn’t slow his pace. The sooner he got the food, the sooner he could get home and laze on the couch. Andrew didn’t have a basket, grabbing a smaller bag of dry food than usual and a box of canned wet food.
He passed a few people on his way back to the front to pay, moving to the other side of the aisle in an effort not to slow down. The bag of litter was straining against his fingers. Andrew set his two items on the conveyor belt, a tired employee hardly looking up as they scanned his items. They hardly exchanged words as Andrew paid, swiping his card and grabbing the plastic bag.
The sun was bright when he left the store. The heat of the day had only increased as Andrew left the air-conditioned interior. The parking lot had more people and cars than it did when he walked in. Namely, two cop cars and four officers. All of which were standing around the orange monstrosity of Neil’s car.
The young couple from when he had walked in was still there, a phone trained on Andrew in a very poorly disguised way. They were college-aged, or just outside of it. Others have grouped around the commotion, their phones out without shame or care. Andrew sighed.
“Is there a problem?”
One of the officers, his bright and shiny nametag reading ‘Thatcher’, walked toward Andrew with a hand out to stop him. “Can we ask you a few questions, sir?”
He wanted to say no. Younger Andrew would have but he’d mostly outgrown the anger-fueled teenager days. He still didn’t trust the men in blue for shit.
“What questions?” The plastic bag handles dug into the skin of his fingertips and really, Andrew just wanted to set it down.
Officer Thatcher pointed at the 500-horsepower pumpkin on wheels. “You the owner of this vehicle?”
Andrew blinked. “Is it parked illegally?”
The man sighed. “Sir, can I see your license and registration for the vehicle?”
Andrew rolled his eyes but shifted the bag in his hand to dig the keys out of his pocket. He unlocked the car, the beep ringing out in the parking lot. Andrew pulled open the passenger door and popped the glove box, abandoning the food and litter in the floorboard. There was a brief moment he found himself thankful that the cops kept the bystanders a few yards away, he wasn’t looking to flash the box of condoms and lube inside to everyone. Andrew grabbed the registration papers, pulled his wallet from his pocket, and passed his license over. The cop shifted on his feet and read over the names.
“Sir, do you know Mr. Josten?”
Andrew rolled his eyes. “We’re gay lovers.”
The sarcasm in his voice carried a bit too well as the cop rolled his eyes. He tapped a finger on the hard plastic of Andrew’s license. “This car has been called in and reported stolen, unfortunately, your name isn’t listed on the registration either. Is there a way to contact Mr. Josten and have him explain the situation to us?”
“No,” Andrew frowned. “He’s at work.”
Officer Thatcher nodded. “And what does Mr. Josten do for work?”
Laundering money to the Japanese mafia didn’t sound like the best answer, but before Andrew could speak another cop hurried over. Hushed whispers were exchanged and the two cops looked at the names on both papers in hand. The second cop, younger than Thatcher by several decades, pulled their phone out and showed something on the screen. Andrew didn’t have to guess too hard to figure out what was being shown—not with the looks he was now receiving from Officer Thatcher.
Andrew sighed, pulling out his own phone and pressing the contact from his text messages. It was a futile attempt he knew, but it was probably better than nothing. The phone rang and rang. Andrew pushed his thumb into the red button as Neil’s voice popped up on voicemail.
“Alright sir,” Officer Thatcher spoke, pushing the other cop’s phone away. “We’re going to ask you to come down to the station with us.”
Andrew pocketed his phone. “You’re not putting cuffs on me.”
The officer shook his head. “Not if you come with us willingly, we don’t want to cause a scene.”
Andrew took the registration papers back and shut the glove box. He left the groceries on the passenger seat floorboard and closed the door with his hip. Several more people with phones out had joined the small group. No news teams had shown up yet, but that was most likely due to the speed of the events. Andrew walked to one of the cop cars, a four-door SUV with hard plastic back seats. An officer opened the door and Andrew slipped inside. He leaned back against the slippery seat and crossed his arms. It didn’t take long for the others to get into the car. They were off with the lights of phone cameras behind them.
He still had his phone, vibration starting to buzz in his pocket. Andrew shifted. Pulling the device out of his pocket as Twitter news profiles pinged his handle. He only had a few notifications on, one was, unfortunately, the Exy News Twitter and the other was Neil. There were already images of him alongside Neil’s car and the police. Andrew rolled his eyes, turning off the notification for the account. They’d be back eventually, for someone who claimed to be so technologically illiterate, Neil could figure shit out when he wanted to. The ride to the station was quick with them already being close to downtown. The blessing of no reporters was squashed as they pulled into the blocked-off section of the station’s parking lot. Three news vans were already parked out front, each with a camera team ready. Andrew rolled his eyes as the cop car came to a stop, lurching slightly as the gear was shifted into park.
“I’m afraid we can’t avoid them completely,” Thatcher began.
Andrew sat, waiting for the other cop to open his door. He kept his mouth shut and hands in his lap. His door was pulled open finally and Andrew stepped out. He followed the two cops into the building, ignoring the small gathering of reporters that began to film and shoot as he arrives and walked past.
The inside of the station was cold, colder than the grocery store had been. Andrew kept his hands folded over each other in the front pocket of his hoodie. He followed Officer Thatcher to a small desk lined with family photos and artwork done by a child stuck up on a metal filing cabinet. He took the old, torn, leather seat by the desk when Thatcher indicated it.
“So,” Thatcher began, pulling up a form on his computer. “Brought in for possession of a vehicle that is not yours, stolen?”
Andrew blinked.
Thatcher cleared his throat. “Look I’m not into many sports besides hockey,” he spoke. “But I’ve been told about this famous rivalry between you and Neil Josten. Is stealing his car really worth the shock factor with a potential arrest looming?”
Still, Andrew kept his mouth shut.
“I’m trying to help you out here kid, we pulled your records and you don’t want this attached that that as well.”
Andrew leaned back in his seat. “I want to call my lawyer.”
Thatcher rubbed his face and sighed. “Of course you do,”
Keeping his eyes on the cop, Andrew lifted his phone to his ear. The call rang through and was picked up with a click.
“Johnson, “ his lawyer’s voice was gruff, fitting for the older man. “What can I help you with Mr. Minyard?”
Andrew stretched out his legs. “I’m sitting at Denver’s sheriff's department, haven’t officially been arrested yet.”
The curse was muffled through the phone. “What the hell happened?”
“Beats me, best get down here and help clear things up.”
Andrew heard the shuffle of papers and fabric before the call disconnected. His phone pinged a few seconds later with an ETA and a reminder to not say anything. He rolled his shoulders back and looked over at Officer Thatcher.
“Not gonna say anything?”
Andrew feigned zipping his lips shut. The other man sighed and went back to typing on his computer. There were eyes on him in the station, Andrew had seen a few of the Exy team’s logo on some desks to know that some of the cops were fans. He drummed his fingers along the edge of the desk, satisfied in how a vein pulsed in the corner of Thatcher’s forehead as he continued.
In all it didn’t take long for Johnson to burst into the station, his dark suit still buttoned over his stomach. The man was largely built, with wide shoulders with a salt-and-pepper beard.
Johnson held his briefcase at his side. “Is there a room where we can discuss the reasons for my client being taken into your custody today?” He looked between a few of the cops. “Privately?”
Thatcher stood and showed the way to another room. Andrew walked quickly, it had been a long time since he’d been in a police station, but they hadn’t changed all that much. The walls were still a dirty off white and there were too many people with too small of desks in the bullpen. The room they were shown to was a small interrogation room, a hook on the table for cuffs to be attached. Andrew sat in one of the metal chairs.
“Alrighty,” Thatcher started. “So lets get right to it, Mr. Minyard you were brought in for driving a believed to be stolen vehicle, correct.”
Andrew didn’t speak, but Johnson did. “Excuse me, are you saying my client stole a car?”
Thatcher held his hands up. “He was found driving a vehicle belonging to Mr. Neil Josten and we received several calls that it had been stolen.”
“Unbelievable,” Johnson muttered and frown over to Andrew. “Was Mr. Josten one of the callers who reported it stolen?”
“He was not, he’s been unreachable as of this time.”
Johnson whipped out his phone, turning away from Thatcher and his confused look. He spoke quietly and quickly to someone on the other line. No doubt one of the managers for the team who would have their phones on them.
Turning back, Johnson glared at the cop. “Mr. Josten is on his way, we can wait until his arrival to continue this.”
Thatcher nodded and took up his papers, excusing himself and stepping out of the room.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
Andrew shrugged. “It wasn’t on my to-do list for today but I can pencil you in.”
Johnson ran a hand through his hair. “I swear, the two of you are going to be the death of me one of these days.”
Andrew didn’t say anything. The lawyer fielded calls left and right, cursing when he’d receive another immediately after hanging up. Andrew was beginning to grow bored with the amount of times he’d heard ‘no comment’ from Johnson’s mouth before the door opened again.
Thatcher led the way inside, a shorter man with auburn hair behind him.
Neil smirked. “Hey, Pumpkin.”
Andrew glared. “Call me that again and see if you wake up in the morning.”
“We can add the threat of violence as a felony charge if you’d like, Mr. Josten.” Thatcher jumped to his feet to shake Neil’s hand.
Neil waved him off, dropping into the seat their lawyer had vacated. “No worries, it’s how he flirts.”
Andrew thought of a couple other things to say but caught the look from Johnson and kept his mouth shut.
Thatcher cleared his throat. “Would you like to wait for your lawyer, sir?”
Looking around, Neil frowned. “He’s right here?”
The cop was stunned for a moment. His eyes blinked in the silence before he shook his head. “You and Mr. Minyard have the same lawyer?”
Neil nodded. “Yeah? Do you and your wife have different lawyers?” He leaned over to Andrew. “Is that normal? Are we abnormal?”
Andrew huffed. “You’ve never been normal, Neil.”
Officer Thatcher looked between them. “I’m sorry, Mr. Josten, are you saying that you and Mr. Minyard are married and share a lawyer?”
“I did say we were gay lovers,” Andrew leaned into Neil’s shoulder, almost smirking at the snort of laughter Neil let out.
Johnson stepped up to the table, always ready to ruin the fun. “Officer, can we move this along, we’re wasting everyone's time here today.”
Andrew watched as the officer straightened in his chair. There was something to be said of Colorado at least, the people were generally accepting. Thatcher looked through his papers quickly. He was flustered, shuffling back and forth until Neil leaned his elbow on the table.
“Is there a problem with my boyfriend driving my car to the shop and grocery store, officer?” He questioned.
Thatcher shook his head. “No sir, just trying to sort out how this issue happened.”
Andrew stood. “Don’t worry about it.”
He wasn’t stopped as he walked to the door. Neil and Johnson followed him out of the room. Neil pulled out his phone, snickering as he scrolled on some form of social media. Andrew glanced over, the light screen mode Neil kept his phone in burning his eyes. The Twitter feed was full of photos of Andrew getting into the cop car and of Neil arriving at the station. Johnson moved around them, pushing ahead to the door and holding it open. The reporters were still outside with cameras ready.
Niel dug the keys out of his pocket and Andrew swiped them. Neil had taken Andrew’s Maserati to the stadium while Andrew took the orange demonic car to the shop. Andrew ignored the calls and flashes from the handful of reporters that were outside. He moved around to the driver's door and slipped inside. It was comfortable to be back behind the wheel of his own car.
“Where’s my car?” Neil hummed.
Andrew backed out of the spot, slow enough he didn’t hit anyone on account that they were still in the police station's parking lot. “Presumably back at the store, I’ll drop you off.”
Neil grinned. “What, you don’t want to drive it home?”
Andrew didn’t give a response and pulled out onto the road. The music was still set to the radio, Neil never caring to plug his phone in. They drove quietly together back towards the store, radio pop music quiet in the speakers. It was calm, settling. Neil set his hand on the center console, palm up and his eyes focused on Andrew. Andrew glanced over, eyes flicking down to Neil’s hand before focusing back on the road.
“I want to make a tweet.” Neil hummed, hand still open and waiting.
Andrew merged lanes. “What about?”
He slid his hand into Neil’s as the other spoke again. “About you getting arrested.”
“What do you want to say?”
Neil squeezed his hand. “I want to come out.”
Andrew took a turn, going up a small incline to the grocery store parking lot. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Neil’s grin was wide and bright.
Andrew slid into the spot beside the pumpkin. Neil pressed a quick kiss to the back of Andrew’s hand before he stepped out with his own keys. Andrew watched as Neil opened his car and sat inside. He typed away on his phone for a moment before grinning. Andrew’s own buzzed.
@jos10exy had just quote-retweeted one of the exy news pages.
‘when your boyfriend gets arrested for driving your car to get cat food’
Andrew rolled his eyes as he liked the tweet before tucking his phone under his thigh. The window he flipped Neil off, pulling out of the space as Neil stuck his tongue out in retaliation. It didn’t matter, as long as Andrew made it home first, he was the real winner.