Chapter Text
The gunshot was so unexpected, so loud, that Neil jumped. A flash of pain echoed out from a point on his shoulder where the faint, ragged and distinctly bullet hole shaped scar twinged in memory. Riko’s body jerked under the force of impact. Blood splattered across Tetsuji’s back and the leather couch they shared. Ichirou withdrew his hands and let Riko fall.
As Ichirou straightened, the stranger stepped forward. Ichirou passed the gun back, and the stranger knelt to press it into Riko’s lifeless hand. Neil watched him curl Riko’s fingers around the grip. In a distant corner of his mind, Neil knew what was going on, but right now Neil was too shocked to make full sense of it. His body had tensed and his extremities felt numb in cold anticipation of what could happen next.
Ichirou stopped in front of Neil. “You have cost the Ravens their couch and their captain. Are you satisfied?”
It made no sense at first, because Tetsuji was still alive. When Neil caught on he stopped breathing. Tetsuji Moriyama was stepping down - not necessarily because Neil had asked for it, but because Ichirou had been here first-hand to see what the Ravens had become under Tetsuji’s guidance. Stuart had said Ichirou was cutting his losses. The Ravens’ reckless violence and fraying sanity made them a glaring liability. Ichirou wanted nothing to do with Edgar Allan’s tarnished reputation.
Neil was suddenly wide awake. “Your people are safe, as are mine. Yes, I’m satisfied.”
Ichirou’s smile was cold and fleeting. “Let them call you by whatever name they like. You will always be a Wesninski at heart.” Ichirou gestured to Neil like he was shooing away an insignificant fly. “You are dismissed.”
The security guard took Neil back to the locker room and left him at the door. Neil went inside alone and found all of the foxes waiting for him. Neil looked from one tired face to the next, soaking them in. Nicky who was animatedly chewing the ear off of his cousin, Aaron, who sat with his trademark detached and sullen look but even Neil could spot the slight twitches of pride that circled the corner of his mouth as Nicky spoke. He looked to Dan and Matt who had glazed and tired smiles as they leant against each other, clearly exhausted from the good fight they gave during the game. Allison stood near one of the mirrors examining herself and smiling deeply as she spoke with Renee who rested beside the mirror, back to the wall giving a similar if not more tired expression. Wymack and Abby seemed to be taking similar stock of the team, but Neil could see how they gravitated a little closer to each other with small affectionate touches and proud smiles. Kevin seemed dazed on a bench to himself, and if Neil had to guess then he figured the striker was replaying every moment of the game in his head. Finally Neil locked eyes with Andrew who stood at the far back of the room, against the wall with his arms folded before him. Andrew raised a brow in question, likely to see if Neil was okay.
Neil revelled in everything they’d accomplished tonight and imagined how they’d react when they heard the news tomorrow. To answer Andrews' questioning gaze he gave a small bit distinct nod and couldn’t help himself exhale through a stifled laugh as reality continued to sink back in.
“What’s so funny?” Nicky asked when he spotted Neil in the doorway.
Neil hadn’t realized he was smiling. “Life?”
His good mood seemed to inject a little life back into the room. Dan sat up a bit straighter, and Matt managed a grin. Kevin pressed his fingers hard against his new tattoo. Aaron and Nicky exchanged triumphant looks, and Allison reached out to squeeze Renee’s hand. Wymack’s nod was approving; Abby’s smile remained proud.
“Let’s blow this joint,” Wymack said. “We’ve got a party to get to. Anyone who’s not on the bus in two minutes gets to stay here overnight.”
In no world would Wymack ever really leave his team behind, but the foxes hustled out of there like they believed him. Neil waited off to one side while the others filed out, knowing Andrew would be the last to leave. Wymack knew better than to stick around and followed his foxes down the hall.
Andrew brought Neil’s duffle to him. Neil took it but dropped it off to one side. Andrew studied it for a moment, then shrugged out of his own bag and put a hand to the wall near Neil’s head.
“Your close calls are getting old,” Andrew said. “I thought you knew how to run.”
Neil affected confusion. “I thought you told me to stop running.”
“Survival tip: no one likes a smart mouth.”
“Except you,” Neil reminded him.
A year ago Neil had been a scared nobody, hating himself for signing the Foxes’ contract and counting down days until he moved in with Wymack. Tonight he was the starting striker for the first-ranked team in the NCAA. In two years he’d be captain, and in four he’d graduate from Palmetto State. Neil would find a professional team first and then fight tooth and nail to make the cut for Court. Neil could already imagine the weight of an Olympics medal around his neck. He didn’t even care what colour it was so long as it was his.
Better than that bright future was what he already had: a court that would always be home, a family who’d never give up on him, and Andrew, who for once hadn't wasted their time denying that this thing between them might actually mean something to the both of them. Neil hadn’t even noticed the silence at first, too distracted by his dizzying thoughts. Now he couldn’t help but smile and pull Andrew in.
Andrew’s eyes softened just the faintest bit as Neil’s hands twined themselves into the goalkeepers sweatshirt and pulled him close. Neil could feel his warm breath across his face and leant in until their lips were just a hairs breadth away from each other.
“Yes or no?” Neil asked, letting his own breath curl over Andrew’s usually stony features.
“Yes” came the answer without hesitation.
Their lips met in the middle with all the heat and intensity that Neil had come to expect, want and rely on in recent weeks, but neither seemed to be intent on battling one another on this battlefield of taste and sensation and instead their kisses remained intense but soft in the same breath. Andrew’s hands curled into Neil’s jersey as if grounding himself in his presence and Neil’s did the same in a way to reassure himself that he was safe.
Eventually Andrew pulled back, his catlike smile forming as he pressed two fingers to Neil’s sternum and gave him a firm push backwards before pulling his thumb to brush the lingering weight of Neil’s lips from his own.
“That’s two minutes Josten, we’re leaving.” Andrew stated, schooling his expression back to the impassive flatness it often held and turned on his heel to grab his bag and head to the door, Neil following close behind.
“Took your damn time, had me thinking you wanted to stay in West Virginia after all” Wymack scowled between puffs of his cigarette as he watched the two finally make their way up.
“Yes, we wanted to stay here with the Ravens and play braid each other’s hair and paint each other's nails.” Andrew had returned with a flat and impassive look, but the tension in his shoulders told Neil he was tired and eager to leave.
“Just get on the coach Minyard.”
Neil went to follow but came to a stop when Wymack's hand came up before him as he lowered his voice. Andrew noticed the lack of movement behind him and turned to wait. Wymack spoke softer than before as he looked down at Neil, exhaling the last of his cigarette before dropping it and grinding the butt beneath his heel.
“All sorted kid? They happy with the answers you gave them?” He questioned with slight concern on his brow.
Neil’s brow furrowed in return. Gun. Betrayal. Blood. It flashed across his mind, the last hour replaying sharply it caused his breath to hitch.
“Yeah, it’s fine Coach. Think they got what they needed in the end.” He said a bit too flatly in response.
Wymack smiled a little at that. “Great. Anything come up that I need to know about before it comes back to bite us in the ass?”
Neil paused again, his stomach hollowed out with the mix of emotions he was bottling up since he left the tower. The relief, the thrill, the fear, the confusion but mostly the peace. It was a strange thing to feel, not something he could say he was all to familiar - peace. It clearly must have settled oddly on his face as he looked up slightly and saw that both Andrew and Wymack had raised a brow at him.
Neil looked to Wymack, then to Andrew and then down the length of the coach. He could make out his teammates chatting inside, still abuzz with energy despite the grueling match they’d just played and his eyes focused in one face in particular who looked adrift amongst them all. Neil scowled, he didn’t want to deal with this now but he knew it would only be better to get ahead of it, if only for Kevin’s sake.
So he turned and looked to Wymack once more, his voice lowered, barely audible.
“Riko.” Both faces watching him immediately scowled at the name. “He’s dead.”
The silence that followed was audible. Wymack’s face went through a series of emotions whilst Andrew took a step down the steps and closer to Neil, his face was stoney but Neil knew enough of the goalkeeper to recognise that his eyes were conducting a detailed sweep of him to check for injuries of any kind.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Wymack eventually mustered, barely above a whisper itself.
“He’s dead.” As if saying it a second time made it sink more, Neil could feel his face part into what he suspected was the beginnings of a shameless grin. “Suicide, or at least thats the story.”
Wymack stood still for a moment before he locked eyes with Neil for a long moment before moving to speak “Kid… are you..?”
Neil cut him off. “Kevin. It’s going to be rough, we shouldn’t leave town tonight.”
By now Andrew had moved to Neil’s side and cast him a questioning look, to which Neil nodded once. Andrew's hand moved to the back of Neil’s neck and gave him a firm grim and remained there. Neil was grateful, he was grateful for the grounding presence in the moment.
Wymack paused at the words Neil had just said before nodding sharply, turning and heading back into the coach to begin speaking hurriedly to Abby who was sat in the Drivers seat. Neil turned to Andrew and felt his shoulders sag slightly as managed a weak smile. “He’s dead.”
“I didn’t think you were lying the first time Junkie, stop repeating yourself.” Andrew retorted bluntly, but the hand remained on the back of his neck even as Neil turned to face him. “How? Do you need an alibi?”
Neil chuckled at that, shaking his head. “Ichirou, finally cut his losses I guess.”
“About fucking time. Shame I didn’t get to watch.”
“I’ll draw you a picture, make it real pretty for you, would hate for you to think I’m leaving you out.”
“I’ll hold you to that Josten.”
“You think Kev is gonna get through it?”
Andrew tilted his head to the side slightly as he thought this over before shrugging. “He’d better, I don’t think he’ll survive me having to deal with him otherwise.”
Neil only nodded once before offering another smile and turning back to head into the bus and to the back where the others were waiting.
Eventually Andrew came to join him as they both sat on the same row, the one directly behind Kevin as Wymack informed them all that neither he nor Abby felt they had it in them to drive back tonight so they were going to head to a hotel and leave in the morning. The news was met by tired cheers from the foxes, who unsurprisingly, also didn’t want to drive back right away and would sooner be in beds.
Neil just tensed slightly and felt Andrew elbow him in the ribs.
“Tomorrow’s problem. Tonight just be a champion with the rest of them, Junkie.”
Neil winced at the pain slightly but just looked at Andrew as he took in the words before his gaze wandered slightly to the goalkeeper's lips. They were on the back most row, with only Nicky across the aisle from them and Kevin in front of them. Aaron was diagonally across and in front but he wouldn’t notice. So Neil leant in and whispered.
“Yes or no?”
Andrew tensed for a second, his eyes darting to the others to make the same calculations that Neil just had before turning back to frown. “Yes or no to what?”
Neil just smiled softly. “Can I kiss you Andrew?”
Andrew remained tense but his own features softened at the question, and he thought for a moment. “Yes.”
Neil leant in and placed a soft kiss to Andrew’s lips before pulling back. “Thank you. For today, for the game, for this year.”
Andrew blanched for a second before the corners of his lips tilted upwards in a small smile.
“103% Junkie”
The hotel was a bit too close to the road, with its sign buzzing faintly as if it couldn’t quite commit to staying lit. Neil clocked it immediately. The flicker, the angle of the parking lot lights, the way the building’s back side vanished into a line of trees that was too dark to see through at night. Beige walls. Flat roof. Windows that reflected more than they revealed.
Temporary. Anonymous. Safe enough.
The Foxes spilled off the coach in loose clumps, their voices loud in the open air. Neil tracked them automatically: Matt and Dan first, shoulders brushing as they laughed; Allison already on her phone text at a million miles an hour, Renee beside her chatting quietly with a tired sag to her shoulders. Aaron was walking just ahead of Nicky who still talked as if exhaustion were optional. Wymack lingered near the bus, watching all of them with a proud and weary gaze.
Neil noted the exits without thinking. Lobby doors. Side entrance near the vending machines. Stairwell at the far end. The way the front desk clerk looked up too late when they entered, startled by the number of them. Neil’s eyes skimmed over the Foxes jerseys and stopped just a beat too long on Andrew before he snapped them away.
Andrew noticed, he always did.
Neil stayed close to him without deciding to and Andrew didn’t comment, didn’t slow or speed up, he just adjusted his path so Neil remained within reach. The doors slid shut behind them with a muted thump that made Neil’s shoulders tense despite himself.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of cleaner and burnt coffee. The lights were too bright, reflecting off tiled floors scuffed by countless shoes that had no intention of remembering this place either. Abby passed out key cards with brisk efficiency, her voice steady and practical.
“Pairs. No switching once they’re decided. Now off you all go and rest, you’ve had one hell of a day and we leave early in the morning.”
There were tired groans and half-hearted protests at the early start. Neil barely heard them.
Kevin stood near the wall by the conference rooms, arms crossed tightly over his chest, gaze fixed on nothing. His coffee sat untouched on the table beside him, steam curling upward like a taunt. Neil’s eyes snagged on him and didn’t want to let go.
Andrew pressed a key card into Neil’s palm. “Room 214”
Neil blinked. “Us?”
Andrew gave him a look that said the question was unnecessary. “Unless you want to bunk with Nicky, didn’t think you enjoyed his snoring.”
Neil huffed a quiet laugh and followed.
The room was quiet in the way hotel rooms pretended to be, with air humming through vents, footsteps muffled somewhere down the hall, the faint thud of a door closing two rooms over. Neil stood just inside the door longer than necessary, eyes flicking to the window, the bathroom door, the seam where carpet met the wall.
Andrew locked the door behind them. The click was solid. Final.
Neil exhaled, sharp and shallow, like he hadn’t meant to.
Andrew didn’t comment. He dropped his bag by the door and leaned back against the wall, arms folding loosely, gaze tracking Neil’s movements with quiet intent.
Neil crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, elbows braced on his knees. He started at the carpet like it might rearrange itself if he watched long enough.
“You’re pacing without moving,” Andrew said flatly, breaking the silence.
Neil blinked. “What?”
“You’ve checked the exits three times since we got here,” Andrew continued evenly. “You’re thinking yourself into a hole.”
Neil huffed a weak, humourless laugh. “I keep replaying it,” he finally said. “The shot, the blood, the look of betrayal on Riko’s face when he realised moments before I did what was going to happen.”
Andrew pushed off the wall and stepped closer, stopping a careful distance away. “You weren’t in control.”
“I was in the room.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
Neil swallowed. “It feels like it should be.”
Andrew crouched slightly so they were closer to eye level, his expression flat but focused. “You didn’t kill him.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t order it.”
“I know.”
“So?”
Neil hesitated. “I thought I’d feel more relief.”
Andrew’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “Maybe in time. It’s been a long day, Junkie. Winning the championship, Riko taking a swing and then in the tower. It’s a lot but tonight isn’t the night to make sense of it all.”
Neil closed his eyes. For a moment, he just breathed.
When he opened them again, Andrew was still there. Still steady.
“Yes or no?” Neil asked quietly.
Andrew studied him for a beat, eyes flicking over Neil's face, his hands, his posture. “To what?”
Neil tilted his head, a small, fragile thing. “Can I kiss you?”
Andrew paused, just long enough to mean something, then, “Yes.”
Neil leaned in slowly, giving Andrew time to change his mind. He didn’t. Their lips met in a grounding kiss. Andrew’s thumb and forefinger resting on Neil’s chin to angle his head upwards as Andrew leant down a little, one hand steadying himself on Neil’s shoulder. Neil had kept his hands by his sides until he heard otherwise and only leant further into the kiss, his lips parting as the intensity picked up a little and he felt Andrew’s tongue against his own. He whined slightly when Andrew pulled back, his lips glistening with their shared saliva.
Andrew stood where he was and just took Neil in before placing three fingers to Neil’s sternum and pushing him back with a bit of force, forcing Neil to lay backwards on the bed. Andrew stepped back from him, a small smirk on his lips.
“You smell, go shower.”
Neil huffed a little at that and went to stand, heading towards the small ensuite bathroom. As he was about to pass the goalkeeper, Andrew put his hand up in front to halt him.
“We'll tell Kevin tomorrow,” he’d said, voice neutral but unyielding.
Neil nodded. “I don’t want him hearing it second-hand.”
“He won’t,” Andrew said. “Wymack won’t allow it.”
Neil leaned back slightly to study the other’s face. “You’re going to be awful about it.”
Andrew’s eyes flicked to him. “I’m going to be honest.”
“That’s the same thing.”
Andrew’s lips tilted, just barely. “He’ll survive.”
Morning came wrong.
Neil woke to pale light bleeding in around the edges of the curtains and the distant sound of traffic, too steady and ordinary for how his body still felt. The ache in his limbs was familiar, the exhaustion layered over lingering adrenaline, but the quiet pressed in heavier than it should have.
Andrew was already awake in the other bed, staring at the ceiling like he was counting cracks that weren’t there. He didn’t look over when Neil shifted, but he spoke anyway.
“You grind your teeth when you sleep.”
Neil blinked. “I don’t.”
“You did.”
Neil considered denying it, but let it go. “Did I stop?”
Andrew hummed. “Eventually.”
They didn’t talk after that.
The conference room felt too clean for what it was about to hold. The Foxes filtered in in uneven waves, slower than the night before, bodies heavy with fatigue and victory that still hadn’t settled properly.
Nicky came in first, coffee in both hands like he’d been afraid someone might confiscate one. He was talking, to no one’s surprise, something about the beds being criminally uncomfortable and how he’d dreamed about Exy plays that made no sense. Aaron followed half a step behind, hoodie pulled low, eyes sharp and quiet as he scanned the room before taking a seat at the far end of the table.
Dan and Matt arrived together, shoulders bumping as they walked. Allison looked immaculate despite the early hour, but she leaned more heavily into Renee’s presence than usual, fingers brushing her wrist as they sat.
Kevin came in last.
He looked tired. Hollowed out in the way that came from pushing past your limits and realizing there was nothing left to give. His hair was still damp from a rushed shower, curls flattened unevenly, and he moved like someone still adjusting to gravity.
But there was no dread in him. No anticipation of disaster.
He sat down across from Neil, rubbing at his left hand absently, eyes unfocused as if replaying the final goal again and again just to make sure it was real. His coffee sat untouched, steam curling lazily upward.
They had won.
That’s all Kevin knew.
Wymack waited until everyone was seated. He didn’t draw it out.
“Riko is dead,” he said. “He was found early this morning. The official statement lists it as a suicide.”
The silence that followed was sharp and immediate.
Kevin frowned, not understanding at first. “What?” he asked, tone edged with irritation rather than fear. “That’s not funny.”
No one laughed.
Abby spoke gently. “The family released a statement earlier.”
Kevin stood so abruptly his chair scraped loudly against the floor. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s… no. You’re wrong. This is, this is something else. Another tactic.”
Neil stayed seated but didn’t look away.
“I was there, Ichirou shot him.” Neil said quietly.
Kevin’s head snapped toward him. “What?”
“I was there Kevin.”
Kevin stared at him, searching his face like he might find a crack. “You’re lying.”
Neil shook his head once.
Kevin’s voice dropped, raw and sudden. “Dis-moi ce que tu veux dire,” he said French. Tell me what you mean.
Neil didn’t hesitate. He answered in kind. “Il est mort. Je l’ai vu.” He’s dead. I saw him.
The colour drained from Kevin’s face. For a moment he didn’t react at all. Then his hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles went white.
“He..” Kevin laughed sharply, a broken sound. “He doesn’t get to do that. He doesn’t get to leave it like this.”
No one interrupted.
“He broke my hand,” Kevin continued, voice rising. “He ruined everything and…” His breath hitched hard. “He was the only one who ever…”
His words collapsed in on themselves.
Kevin sank back into the chair like his legs had given out. He pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead, breathing hard, like he was fighting something feral inside his chest.
Dan took a half step forwards, then stopped. Matt hovered uncertainly behind her. Renee waited nearby, patient and still, her phone now on the desk where she had sent a series of swift texts.
Kevin shoved his chair back and stood again. “Don’t,” he snapped, not looking at anyone in particular. “Don’t touch me.”
They didn’t.
Andrew spoke then, voice flat and unyielding.
“He was a monster.”
Kevin looked up at him sharply.
“He made you smaller so he could feel bigger,” Andrew continued. “He needed you trapped.”
Kevin’s hands shook. “You don’t know..”
“I know enough,” Andrew cut in. “He’s gone. You’re not.”
The room held its breath.
“That’s freedom,” Andrew finished. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it yet.”
Kevin’s breath came apart in his chest, sharp and uneven, grief breaking through in waves he couldn’t seem to get ahead of. He dragged his hands down his face and moved abruptly, chair scraping loudly as it was pushed back from the table.
“I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t be here.”
No one stopped him.
Kevin left the room without looking back, the door swinging shut behind him harder than necessary. The silence he left behind was heavy and unresolved and Wymack let it sit for a moment before he spoke.
“All right,” he said quietly. “Change of plans.”
The Foxes looked at him, tired eyes sharp despite themselves.
“Kevin’s not getting on the bus with you,” Wymack continued. “I’ll stay here with him, Abby will drive you all back.”
Neil felt something tight and strange settle in his chest. Not guilt, not exactly, but the ache of leaving someone behind when you’d just learned how much they mattered.
Nicky frowned. “Coach -”
“You don’t help by hovering,” Wymack cut in decisively. “Kevin needs space. He needs time. I’ll bring him back when he’s ready.”
Renee nodded once, already reaching for her phone again and stepping out of the room.
Neil’s gaze snapped to her, sharp with sudden understanding. They still had to deal with Jean.