wesawbears:

I went majorly overboard on this, but I hope you enjoy!

–

Neil doesn’t care about material possessions. Andrew knows this, knows that Neil would be content to live out of that fucking duffel bag for the rest of his life if Andrew let him. He tries not to let it get to him, he really does, but his mind can’t get over the fact that Neil should be able to own things like a key without looking at it like a dog with their favorite toy.

And if part of the reason it bothers him is that seeing Neil with that goddamn duffel just reminds him of “thank you, you were amazing” and Neil running and himself falling, then that is his business alone.

Once he’s gone pro, Andrew finds that without Neil and the other chosen Foxes to watch, he’s left with two dangerous things: a lot of time on his hands and a disposable income. So Andrew starts small.

A day after the gift is delivered, he gets a call from Neil. “Andrew. Why is there an Audi in the parking lot that I’m being told is mine?”

Andrew’s a little sad they’re not facetiming. He would have liked to watch the way Neil’s face is surely reddening with righteous fury. “I didn’t like the car you picked out,” he answers. “It’s ten miles out from dying anyway.”

“My car was-”

“I swear if you say fine-”

“It ran.”

“Barely.”

The silence on the other end lets Andrew know he’s won and he can imagine the way Neil’s mouth has probably pressed into a thin line.

Finally, Neil answers, “If it makes you feel better, fine. I’ll keep the car. But nothing else.”

Andrew doesn’t make any promises. He just says, “Good. You didn’t really have another choice, since your old car is halfway to the junkyard by now.”

“You asshole-”

He ends the call.

–

Andrew tries to refrain from any more lavish gifts, he really does, but Neil’s clothes still piss him off. He’s on the phone, complaining to Andrew for the fifth year in a row about not wanting to go to the Fall Banquet and what a travesty it is that they’re using his precious court from something that’s not Exy, so andrew interrupts, “Are you wearing the same shirt?”

“Yes?”

“No you’re not. It has holes in it.”

Neil scoffs. “No one is going to be close enough to see if there are holes.”

“I’ll know.”

Neil drops it after that and three days later, there’s a nice black dress shirt laying across Neil’s bed. Neil sends him a picture of him in it and it looks just as good as Andrew knew it would.

Another perk of living alone is no one can see when he makes it his new phone background.

–

They go on like this for a while, Andrew sending little things he thinks won’t piss Neil off too much. They can’t spend Thanksgiving together, with Andrew out of town for a press thing and honestly, they don’t really want to considering the history that day holds. But he can hear the way the end of the semester is slowly tearing Neil down, and he hears the echoes of a similar exhaustion in his own voice. So when Neil softly admits softly, “I miss you,” Andrew knows his next gift.

–

He makes it to Palmetto just before the end of afternoon practice. He can hear Nicky’s voice in his head cooing over how romantic the whole thing is, but he ignores it and grabs his gear out of his trunk.

When he gets to the sidelines, he opens with, “Hey, Coach. Sub me in for one of your goalies.”

Wymack’s eye roll is audible. “You couldn’t do this when you actually played here?”

“Come on, Coach. Think of how boring your life would be if I did what you expected.”

Wymack grumbles something about blood pressure medication, but Andrew is already halfway to the goal. Some of the freshmen start chattering excitedly, which prompts Neil to look up from where he’s talking to Robin by the goal. He freezes in the middle of a word when he sees Andrew and though Andrew’s loathe to admit poetic thoughts, he thinks he could live without the sun if it was replaced with Neil’s smile at that moment. All Andrew says in greeting, though, is, “Ready to get your ego checked, Captain?”

Neil’s face turns fierce and there’s a brightness in his eyes that makes Andrew want to try.

Wymack yells distantly at them to stop gabbing and start playing, so Neil heads to the center of the court, though not without turning to look back to Andrew. Andrew gives them his signatures salute and that’s all he registers until Wymack signals the end of practice.

Neil ignores everyone asking for his thoughts and makes a beeline for Andrew. “You’re here,” he says, a little breathlessly.

“Your teammates are staring.”

“Let them,” Neil says, pressing up close to lift the grate of Andrew’s helmet. “Let me kiss you.”

This time, it’s Andrew’s turn to answer “yes” and pull Neil in by the back of his neck. Their lips meet and he feels right for the first time in months.