If you can't find the flames of love, Etsy-bought is fine

by OtocyonDeIris (RobinDarling)

Summary:

Based on this Tweet on Twitter:https://x.com/sambutwithbooks/status/1871184538220802470

Andrew can't get over his crush on Wymack's adoptive son. In a not so sober state he orders a love spell on Etsy. Imagine his surprise when the spell actually works...

Notes:

Inspired by this tweet: https://x.com/sambutwithbooks/status/1871184538220802470
English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any grammar mistakes I made. Hope you will enjoy it!

Chapter 1: Glinda the Good turns period-blood into your next boyfriend

   Andrew Joseph Minyard never thought he would sink this low. He was scrolling through Etsy’s offer of various love spells. Did he believe in witchcraft? No. Was he about to give a shit ton of money to a self-proclaimed Glinda the Good? Oh, you could bet your ass, especially after drinking enough to haze his good judgment.

   To be fair, considering the torment bestowed on him he held his ground fairly decent. It’s been a year or so since Bee, who he still couldn’t get himself to call mom after such a long time, officially adopted him and his brother.

   Living with Tilda clearly hasn't been working out. Andrew had his fair share of bad homes, with his last one taking the crown. He was used to dealing with them on his own. Adults rarely proved themselves helpful in taking in account the words of a child who barely even had the proper vocabulary to describe what was happening to them, let alone trusting it over the nice, comfortable image of the person they know only passing; Andrew learned fast that snitches get stitches. They all got bored eventually, anyway. Cass was different. Richard’s reserved nature and relatively low-fuss job meant he had little to no stress he could take out on Andrew. Said job required him to travel a lot too, further removing him from any kind of possible conflict. Cass herself was living the white picket fence dream. She made good money herself but left much more free time in her schedule. She used to pamper Andrew with home baked sweets and colorful candies.

   Andrew didn’t get it at the time. She didn’t care when he flinched away from her touch, when he kept his distance and walked around as a cornered stray. She wanted to adopt him. And oh, Andrew craved that, so much so that Drake became nothing more than the fee for the ferryman.

   Bee was a therapist in juvie. In the beginning, Andrew did little more than stare at her during their sessions, sipping on his cocoa. She was probably the first person who listened. She listened so well that when Andrew was taken back by Mother Dear, someone called the social workers to examine the kids. Lo and behold, beating your kid and getting one of them hooked on Xanax wasn’t deserving of a Mother’s Day card, and they ended up with Bee.

   Bee happened to have friends with similar sentiments, one of them a foster parent himself. David Wymack, or Couch as his college athlete team called him (and which title stuck to him even outside the stadium, glued on by his demeanor) had two sons. Kevin Day, who only joined him a few years ago, was just as new to the situation as Wymack himself, and Neil Josten, who was the latest member of the mess of a family the man was sporting there. He was also Andrew’s painfully unaware infiltration.
Neil Josten was a havoc to society. The at first glance quiet kid did a one-eighty to the slightest taunt, something Kevin seemingly had to discover in action, when the shithead Moriyama came to their school to take him back. Andrew handled the situation just fine, but then Neil had to open his mouth and damn. Andrew never wanted to kiss anyone so badly. If life thought him not to want things, but Neil Josten was his final test to that. He did try to get over it of course. However, spending so much time with Kevin meant spending time with his just as much of an Exy fanatic little brother. They never really hung out on their own, yet it was already too much. And now here he was, clicking on the spells' pages, trying to remember what kind of unholy force brought him here. It was Nicky.

   He sipped on his hot chocolate and clicked on a strikingly over-priced offer; the “witch” promised to execute the ritual on the day of the order with precise methods and conditions. Andrew huffed. He just found Sabrina Spellman’s sales pitch. He clicked on the profile of the vendor. They didn’t have much information, but the profile picture, a photo of a fox’s paw mark deep in the forest mud, and a simple introduction.

 

Abram’s Rituals
I work with old family techniques. All are tested and trusted. By buying you support me going to college.
Thank you for trusting me with your goals!

 

   Generational delusion indeed. However, he would rather give his money to this person than any middle-class airhead offering a ritual made up of burning a candle and manifesting. It was decided.

   He clicked on the items to find the spell, curious to see the other infamous family techniques. The shop covered many areas; boosting finances, helping to settle in a new place, blending in more, and of course his spell of interest. Aside from these the vendor also offered Tarot readings with premade questions, simple and complex questions, and spreads to help clear up one’s vision. Most items had very positive reviews, almost reaching 5 stars on every item, but so did the girl who required period blood, so he tried to keep his expectations low.

   The love spell had a very in-depth description of what it did and how it achieved it. While trying to keep the ritual itself secret, the vendor seemed to be transparent. They would use items associated with or representing love and/or sex deities as required by what the customer wants. The ritual would take place at midnight as Artemis and other moon deities were connected to Aphrodite somehow. The vendor granted that every small detail was chosen with considerations such as the time.

   So Andrew made a quick note of his situation, leaving out the last name as recommended for the idiot’s privacy; even if the way he worded it might have been a bit coarse.

 

Your name: Andrew
Target name: Neil
At this point, I don’t care if it's only romantic or sexual. Whatever works for the idiot.

 

  Well, that would cover it alright. The witch also asked for some information about the person so they could represent them correctly in the ritual.

 

Says he doesn’t swing but keeps staring at me. Very annoying. Has no self-preservation instinct, but still looks like he might start running the next second.

 

  That should be enough. Satisfied, Andrew proceeded with payment and waited for the confirmation.
That was the situation, basically. Neil "I don’t swing" Josten rejected every poor soul who tried their luck so far. Andrew acknowledged his lack of interest towards anyone and tried to get over his immediate attraction to the boy, but all of his efforts were undercut by the way Neil took staring at him a few months ago. It probably meant nothing. He was naturally observant towards people around him, probably because of his past environment. Andrew could relate to that. Yet still, the intensity of his gaze, and those blue eyes made his stomach tense up and his insides turn with expectation.

  Even though there was no possible way this could work, it was a way to let out his frustration. It worked as intended, and he laid back in his chair. He was so fucked.
Suddenly the light switched on. Aaron stood at the door, with a frown on his face and backpack dangling in his hand.

   "What the hell are you doing?" His carbon copy asked, and his eyes shifted to the bottle of rum on the desk. "What the– I want some or telling Bee."

   "Help yourself." Andrew told him and quickly closed the tab.

   Aaron let his bag fall on the floor but closed the door behind him. He didn’t look at Andrew while filling his glass with a generous portion, a clear sign that his session with their therapist didn’t go that well. Bee insisted on finding them a trusted third party, something about having a detached safe place where they can work on their issues. Hah. Getting Aaron to even admit he had a drug problem was already an achievement, but actually working on it was an absolute bitch.

   "Why are you all pissy?" He asked. "Moore stomped over your fragile little maiden heart?"

   "I could ask the same, asshole!" Ah, and there was that pouty face of misery. How could Aaron use their face like this was above him. "I come home to you sitting in the dark, drunk and–"

   Aaron halted, that dangerous light suddenly flaring up in his eyes; he pushed the bottle and the glass against the wall. Andrew normally wouldn’t have a problem protecting his search history from his brother, but his current state worked against him. Aaron pounced on the mouse like a feral animal. Andrew tried body-checking him, which ended up rolling his office chair to the side, with his ass still on it. He steadied himself with a hand on the desk.

   "What the fuck?!" Aaron hissed before Andrew managed to push him away but it was too late. "You actually listened to Nicky?"

   "Drastic problems require drastic measures."

   "Is this about Josten? He is not a fag, though?"

   "Try again."

   Aaron cringed. They were still working on his homophobia.

   "He is not gay."

   "And magic is not real."

   "You just paid for it!"

   "Oh, who would have thought I’d have to explain this to an ex-addict?"

   Aaron’s face finally relaxed although Andrew knew how his hand now fidgeted with his shirt instead. Well, well, what could have been today’s topic with Moore? His brother hopped down on his bed, with his whiskey and took a sip.

   "First, don’t go there! Not now." He asked, with a slight edge in his voice. "Second. You could just tell him you know? Get rejected, boom, next."

   "If that was an option, we wouldn’t be here, would we?"

   "Then what? If you keep oogling him tomorrow I’ll throw up."

   "You lost the right to say that when you left your porn open."

   Andrew was forever wounded. Aaron wisely shut up. Well, almost.

   "At least Kevin is straight."

   Whatever Kevin Day had going on with Jean and his boyfriend had to differ, but he let his brother believe in fairy-tales. And this was the idiot telling him magic was not real! Hah! Maybe there was still hope for him. That was what he thought when the vendor sent him the confirmation that the spell was done and soon he could see the effects, along with a picture of burned flowers and candles. How funny.

 

---

 

   "Boys?" Bee called them from the living room. She was getting ready to leave, with the car keys in one hand and her phone in the other. "Who spent 70 dollars from your emergency account?"

   Aaron looked at him with a look of pure judgment.
   "70 bucks?!" He hissed.

   "Just keep your mouth shut." Andrew said as he pushed his brother towards the stairs. "Private matter Bee! Emergency nonetheless!"

Chapter 2: Magic is not real, especially not for 70 bucks

Summary:

Dinner with the Wymack family means meeting Neil. Andrew is ready to spend the night in quite pining, but unusual shenanigans take place.

   Bee tried to dig for more information during the short car ride, but in the end, left Andrew alone. She knew when to push and when not to, the latter being a more regular occurrence. Aaron took to quite snickering, hiding behind the driver's seat every time the woman hinted towards the money. By the end, Andrew felt like becoming an only child. Aaron’s doom was left pending as they parked in front of Abby’s house. Despite Abby and Wymack semi-living together for years now, ever since Kevin was drop shipped by whatever fucked up stork that brings you a surprise teenager, they still haven't acknowledged whatever they were. When Neil joined their somewhat non-nuclear nuclear family there was no reason to keep Wymack’s one bedroom-one couch apartment.

   Abby was in the doorway by the time they climbed out of the car. Although neither Andrew nor Aaron showed much affection towards her, the woman’s soft cheerfulness never seemed to wear off. She and Bee greeted each other with their usual casualty. On the first week of living together with Bee, Abby came over to meet with them. In retrospect Andrew knew leaving Wymack behind was a strategic move, the three seemed to spend an awful lot of time together even outside of work with varying involvement in each other's family life. However then and there Abby was set on looking them over, even if only Aaron gave them the time of the day, barely.

   Inside the dining table was already set. Nothing fancy like Luther would have, it was homey and natural. The kitchen was a downright disaster thanks to Kevin’s inability to do basic tasks around. Namely, he was trying to scrape off the charring from a piece of pork with semi-success. Apparently, he had no problem throwing together his daily spinach-protein concoction in the blender, but anything more complicated than steamed chicken ended up black and smoking. Neil – oh yeah, Andrew can now spend dinner dwelling on those sweet dollars lost – well, Neil was comfortably sitting on the counter, enjoying the catastrophe tourism, a batch of nicely seasoned baked potatoes next to him. He looked up and smiled at Andrew. If Andrew suddenly felt the urge to nudge the idiot’s legs apart to stand between them then fuck it. It should be impossible to look like a homeless person and a wet dream at the same time.

   “You are pathetic,” Aaron whispered from behind him.

   “I should have eaten you in the womb.”

   “Fuck off! I should have smothered you with the umbilical cord.”

   “Oh look, he uses big doctor words! Where’s an apple when I need one?”

   Aaron huffed and passed him to help Kevin save their pork. Andrew's time here was usually spent with quietly staring at the idiot and questioning why has his attraction betray him like this? He was way past his gay awakening, fooled around here and there too. There was no reason to get stuck on Neil when there were planty of gay guys around. Sadly none of them could hold his attention like Neil.

   Andrew held eye contact with Neil. Their little staring matches were a time-to-time occurrence; nothing special, and Neil’s gaze was always more alert and puzzled than heated. However, spiced with this smile now it was warm and even inviting to come closer. Now he has hallucinations. Great. Only then Neil slid off from the marble and walked closer with unsure steps. He stopped just on the edge of Andrew’s personal space, as his habit dictated, hands gripping the seam of his oversized shirt.

   “Hi.”

   Hi. Andrew’s crush says “Hi” in the softest voice he ever heard the boy talk. As if him sending Riko Moriyama to “Deal with his daddy issues with a licensed therapist” and “live out his kinks with a consenting partner, oh wait it must be hard to find one with all his untreated issues” was a doppelganger or a second persona. And to make matters worse Andrew was fucking gone.

   “The hell happened to that?” Andrew asked, nodding towards the stove.

   Neil’s smile grew even wider. “He wanted to cook it faster. I told him not to set it so high, so he kept switching between low and high. I gave up soon.” Must have been a nice show.

   “I won’t eat from that.”

   “That’s for him. Didn’t want the one Abby made, too much fat and sugar.”

   Andrew arched an eyebrow at that. Neil waved to follow him to a tray covered with aluminum foil. Raising it only slightly he stole a piece of pork loin dripping with honey and held it between them, offering.

   “Wanna taste?”

   What the fuck.

   Suddenly Andrew’s brain froze. To say all thoughts left his head would be lying, only the ones responsible for basic functioning. Different ones, ones he would definitely not welcome, appeared at an alarming rate. Was he breathing? No, he wasn’t. He swallowed the tension down and got his lungs to work again. Even Neil couldn’t be so clueless. Yet the boy simply stood there blinking at him, fingers golden with honey.

   Andrew leaned in and took it, careful not to appear too desperate. He never looked away from Neil’s eyes, his expression almost surprised that Andrew accepted whatever the fuck this was, then became joyful. Andrew had a hard time not choking.

   “What the– Gross!” He heard Aaron, then an “uff”. Maybe Kevin was good for something after all.

   Not trusting his voice he simply nodded and left to process the events on the couch. This must have been a new torment bestowed on him. A one time event, a hiccup of the timeline. Bee and Abby were already in the living room, with Wymack arriving at last, two bags in his hands.

   “Want some help with those?” Abby offered, but the man just waved her off and left for the kitchen.

   Dinner went like every other weekend. They talked about work and school – Andrew still wasn’t a social butterfly and they didn’t pressure it. Yet a certain idiot kept fighting for his attention. Neil deliberately sat next to him, basically body-checking Aaron aside, and hopping down in the chair Andrew’s clone already pulled out for himself. The biggest joke was his innocent expression while doing it as if Aaron wasn’t trying to curse him to hell and back. Neil simply picked up his fork and began picking food onto his plate, avoiding any vegetable offered aside from the baked potatoes. Then yet again, he smiled at Andrew with that stupid expression on his face. Andrew knew he was glaring at him, but couldn’t stop.

   Bee cleared her throat beside him, breaking the something going on. 

   “The boys’ coach told me they could get a sports scholarship. What do you think?”

   The question was directed at Wymack, but Andrew knew her games well enough by now. She looked at Neil and then back at him with a knowing smile as if she figured something out. No, you didn’t Bee, go back to bzzz at the flowers. Andrew grabbed the moment to get his plate full.

   “No favoritism.” The man said. “But I could send their folder to some coaches. If not them, they are perfect fox material anyway. Given they are good enough.”

   Ever the professional. Kevin already had the hots for Andrew’s goalie performance and Aaron wasn’t half bad himself. Andrew was pretty sure Kevin already made Wymack promise to get them on court, as his love language dictated. Abby seemed to beam at the idea, not surprised in the slightest.

   “That would be wonderful! Aaron, we could look into med schools together! Tell me if you need help with the exams.”

   Aaron was ever too quick to say “Yes, Abby, thank you!” with big doe eyes. They seriously had to have a talk about the shared face situation.

   Then she turned her attention towards him.

   “And you, Andrew? Have you thought about colleges yet? Any majors you are interested in?”

   “Criminal justice.”

   Neil smothered a laugh beside him. Wymack didn’t even try. Abby kicked him under the table.

   “We can look around too.” She said, “I may have less experience in that, but David knows a few people who might have some insight. Right?”

   “Yes, but if the midget causes any chaos I won’t take responsibility! I’ll call Anderson and Williams.”

   Bee asked about Kevin and Neil’s picks. Kevin was set on a history major, saying if he becomes court it won’t matter much. He might as well indulge in his other passion. Neil chose mathematics.

   “It’s interesting, and shouldn’t take up much time either.” He explained. “I want to make court too, so…”

   “Junkie,” Andrew said under his breath.

   Neil snorted.

   “Sure, Detective Conan.” He said in German.

   Oh someone was teaching him pop culture references now.

   “Little Fibonacci here is watching anime now. What a world!”

   “Will you issue an arrest or what?”

   “I think a lot of people would be happy if you got handcuffed, Josten. Maybe that would calm you down.”

   Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next. Neil leaned closer sly grin on his lips and whispered –

   “Kinky.”

   Andrew took a deep breath and counted to three. The idiot shouldn’t even know that word in German, though “pervers” was not hard to figure out. It certainly wasn’t part of their high school textbook. Aaron started coughing behind them.

   Neil seemed to be done with his bullshit for the night. He ate his sour lemon tiramisu and sent a judgemental look towards Andrew when he covered his own with sweet whipped cream then put it down as far from the boy as possible. Call him paranoid, but securing the front-line was the responsible thing to do with Neil’s newfound habit.

   Of-course, two occasions could hardly be called a habit, but when there were absolutely no previous offenses it was all the more suspicious.

   Hold up.

   Suddenly, the most diabolical idiocracy started blooming in Andrew’s head.

   The fucking love spell.

   There was absolutely no way it worked. Magic was not real, and especially not for 70 bucks. Yet how else could he explain the sweet smiles, intimate advances, and the dirty joke, all in the last few hours? And that was exactly what Aaron asked him when his twin followed him to the toilet.

   “What the fuck is happening?” Aaron whisper-yelled at him. “Neil is not gay!”

   “And magic is not real, yet here we are!” Andrew grunted. “I have as much idea as you do.”

   Aaron considered him for a moment then his face turned pale.

   “Maybe magic is real. You turned him gay.”

   “Oh no the freakin’ frog poison!” Andrew gasped.

   “Asshole.” He said. “But then how do you explain it?”

   Taking Andrew’s silence as confirmation, Aaron hummed and leaned closer.

   “You could go for it. Who knows, if it worked then maybe…”

   “Now he wants to bewitch the cheerleader! Real gentleman, you are.”

   “Shut up! You already did it!”

   “Fuck knew it would work!”

   “So you do think it worked!”

   The stupidity was reaching its peak now. Andrew pushed past Aaron and grabbed his coat. Cooling off on the patio would greatly benefit Aaron’s long-term plans. He picked a cigarette from his stash, hoping the smell wouldn’t stick to him too much next to the fragrant rose bushes Abby was so proud of. Even in late fall, some of them still bloomed, even with weak buds. Andrew swayed on the swing sofa, the flowery patchwork fabric soft under his hands. Someone placed an ashtray on the ground beside it, unused and clean. Seemed like Wymack still indulged occasionally. Andrew already smoked half of his cigarette when the patio door opened and Neil slipped outside. He crossed the garden swiftly, following the weak orange of the cigarette’s end, and sat down on the swing sofa next to Andrew, leaving enough space between them so they wouldn’t touch even accidentally.

   “Are you alright?” He asked. His voice lacked the slyness from dinner, instead hinting at concern behind the casualty.

   “Just wanted a smoke,” Andrew told him. His attempt at being passive-aggressive failed, only letting the passivity through.

   “Didn’t know you smoked.”

   How would he?

   “Can I have one?”

   “Hah, that’s not very elite athlete from you,” Andrew said while fishing the box out from his pocket. Neil was eager to take one and Andrew lit it for him. “Kevin will have a breakdown.”

   “I’ll tell him you tempted me.”

   Andrew couldn’t help but huff at that. That was as close to a laugh as he could get.

   “Innocent little rabbit was hunted down by the big bad wolf, huh? This was the only way he could survive.”

   “Nah. I just saw you out here and thought, dammit, so this is what the cool kids do! I must now!”

   “Cool?” Andrew frowned. That was not a word he was described with often.

   “Rabbit?” Neil countered. “No, for real, why rabbit?”

   Andrew could have gone into great detail about why an always alert, ready-to-bolt idiot like him would bring up the mental image of a rabbit. But no. That would not happen, because that would be admitting to an amount of attention given.

   “You ran around the court like one.” He said a safe route to take.

   “Kevin too.”

   “He is not 5 foot.”

   “5 foot 3. You are the 5 foot one.”

   “I don’t get body checked by giants.”

   Neil accepted the answer. He didn’t take a drag, just let his cigarette burn down. What a waste, Andrew thought. As quiet as their getaway was, Andrew found he didn’t mind it at all.

Chapter 3: Ethics of a Lovespell

Summary:

“Hi, Drew.”
Oh, Andrew suddenly considered jumping out of the fucking window.
“Drew?” He frowned, trying his best to coat the word in poison.
“Yes?” Neil was so dumb. “Problem?”
“Just put your ass down, Josten.”

   It took some time to get Aaron off of his back about the Etsy vendor. Deleting his search history was a must after the dinner at Abby’s, and Aaron realized his mistake all too late. Yet it didn’t stop him from bombarding Andrew with the same question. He tried for half an hour before going to bed that very day.

   “Hey. Hey, tell me! Bro code! Andrew, pl– Andrew come on, you must!”

   “Must I?” Andrew growled, while preparing his pillow, trying to guess where Aaron’s head was at the other end of the room. Dark be damned, he had a perfect map of the room in his mind and keen senses perfected in shitty homes. Aaron was an easy target by his standards.

   “Yes, you must!” Aaron whined, giving away his position. “My future happiness is on the line he–ufff!”

   The throwback bumped into the wall a little above Andrew’s head. Amateur. He collected his pillow and puffed it up for another silent glide.

   “On ethical grounds, no.”

   And that was that. Yet it came up again while they washed their teeth, on the car ride, and even while passing the gate of their school. Aaron was adamant.

   He took his usual seat for German class in the back. Neil’s old, worn-out duffel was already on the chair beside him, the idiot himself talking to some of their classmates at the door. He would usually take the seat closest to the door, another rabbit habit Andrew noticed. However, now Neil chose the absolute opposite and Andrew’s thoughts desperately tried not to come to the same conclusion as on the weekend – and failed.

   The fucking spell.

   Reminding himself that magic was not real, he went through all the other reasons why Neil could possibly want to be besties with him all of a sudden. Maybe he had enough of Kevin. Maybe he was lonely after the rest of his friend group graduated last year. That must be it.

   Neil stood in front of him all of a sudden with a keen interest in his eyes.

   “Hi, Drew.”

   Oh, Andrew suddenly considered jumping out of the fucking window.

   “Drew?” He frowned, trying his best to coat the word in poison.

   “Yes?” Neil was so dumb. “Problem?”

   “Just put your ass down, Josten.”

   And that was a problem because Andrew realized he didn’t have the strength to say no. He couldn’t get himself to tell Neil to never call him “Drew” again, and a very horrid and dark part of him was even tight with a feeling. What the–

   Neil sat down in his chair and took to fidgeting with his notebook. Andrew gave him a suspicious look. Whatever was brewing would definitely make his language class an experience, he knew it.

   Things started as usual. Neil was obviously bored, he was way past high school level and only took the class for an easy A. Andrew and Aaron were in similar positions thanks to Nicky, who invited them out to Berlin every summer. When the teacher asked them to practice the topic in pairs, Neil immediately turned towards Andrew, his chair screeching on the floor.

   “We don’t have to do this,” Andrew told him in German. “We are both fluent.”

   “Practice never hurts,” Neil said, then his eyes flickered down. “Your arms look good in this shirt.”

   Oh if only he could put them to good use. For Andrew’s sanity, this had to end.

   “You don’t swing.” He said, as the firm declaration Neil loved to tell any living soul under the Sun.

   “I don’t,” Neil confirmed. “I guess you just piqued my interest for some reason. Don’t take it too seriously.”

   “Why did you think I would welcome it?”

   “Haven’t you?” The question was genuine, without the slightest sass intended, yet it punched Andrew in the gut.

   “Maybe I was curious how far you would go.”

   “Because what I said at dinner was tame.” He laughed. Andrew’s memory was a blessing and a curse at the same time. Then his expression fell, the silence stretching between them. “Should I stop?”

   Andrew knew he should say yes. There was no reason to keep tormenting himself. But Neil Josten showing interest in him was a pipe-dream and he wasn’t ready to wake up. His silence was taken as “go on” apparently, based on Neil’s smirk.

   “I don’t care what you do, Josten,” Andrew said finally. He tried his best to turn his attention to doodling cats. Neil wiggled his chair closer and leaned in to look at them. He didn’t have any remarks aside from a snort.

   Neil laid down his notebook next to his and started drawing his own cats. The ones near the edge seemed to react to Andrew’s, playfully jumping towards them, or reaching out with a claw-less paw.

   “This one kinda looks like Kevin,” Neil said, sliding his finger over a fucked up blob of ink with an angry expression and big round eyes.

   The resemblance was uncanny.

 

   They didn’t meet again until practice, Neil being one year under the rest of them. Andrew was quick to change into his goalie gear, not giving a chance to Kevin to bitch about his sugar intake again. He didn’t have the nerve for that today. Not after Neil gave half of his ink splash cats fishes and yarn balls. The biggest offenders were the ones with exy sticks. Cats deserved a world without exy.

   Kevin was on his heels, already geared up and done with his extra stretches, protein shake right beside him. The transparent water bottle did nothing to make the disturbing brownish-green color of the drink any more appetizing.

   “Are you coming to Murrey’s party?” Kevin asked. Their teammate tended to treat the team to a decent amount of alcohol and fire-roasted beacon every other month or so. Kevin took great joy in the vodka.

   Free booze was not something Andrew was keen to give up, but the real deciding factor was Aaron. If he was going, Andrew would too to keep an eye on him. 

   “We will see.”

   Neil arrived late. His hair was tousled and his face was wet with water. Aaron was quick to chide in.

   “Did you fight the tap on the second floor, Josten?”

   “I didn’t know!” Neil yelled back at him, throwing his arms in the air.

   The tap in question had a mean tendency to sprinkle water in every direction except your hand, and despite the issue being raised multiple times to any respective teacher or maintenance staff it stayed that way for a month now. Andrew didn’t have to personally discover this; Aaron took one for the team when he chose that one out of three. It was also only natural that none of the victims told the others which one to look out for.

   “It’s okay Josten, woke you up alright!” One of Neil’s classmates told him.

   Curious, Neil was the always active type.

   “Very funny,” Neil said, obviously done with the topic.

   He threw his duffel bag into the locker room and prepared his exy uniform. Neil was private about changing, going to the shower stalls with Kevin standing guard for him. It was the same now too. Andrew felt a hint of disappointment at that, then quickly erased it from his mind. Instead, he pulled out his phone to settle another important matter.

   Are love spells ethical?

   Even typing it felt ridiculous. Yet the answer came to him quickly, apparently, many people had the same question on their minds. Love spells were unethical, to the point where many witches wouldn’t even cast them.

   This thought fucked his mind up alright, so much so that his teammates could feel safe on the court. After the sixth normal throw back they didn’t even try to dodge. In exchange he didn’t give the slightest fuck about the goal, only stopped the ball if it practically flew into his net. Kevin was already sending him that look. Neil approached him during the break. He offered Andrew his water bottle.

   “Kevin is upset.”

   “Boo hoo. This is my sad face.”

   “I’ll buy you ice cream.”

   “Making business offers now? Try something better.”

   “I could spoon-feed you. Any better?”

   He had to deal with this somehow.

   “Try again.”

   Neil stayed quiet for a minute, biting into his lips. Andrew held down the ghost of excitement that tried to creep itself into his mind.

   “You look very…” He took a short break there, then winced. “Hot? I guess? When you play I mean.”

   Andrew didn’t answer. He could probably make some nasty comment on Neil’s newfound sexuality, or the awkwardness of his forced flirt attempt. Yet, no, he had no right to, because the spell did work that would mean he was responsible.

   When the break was over he used his turmoil to target his now unsuspecting teammates at any chance he could get. After his usual rant about safety, their coach even congratulated him on his efforts.

   “Keep it up and you could get on any team!” Kevin said, practically foaming at the mouth. Fucking exy-sexual. He and Josten both. “Even the Troyans. Andrew, we need to get on the same team as Knox and Moreau!”

   Oh yeah, his crushes. Kevin already received offers for every fucking team under the sun but was adamant about signing on the same one as Andrew and Neil. Something about not wanting them to go to waste on their own. Jeremy and Jean already accepted their respective Troyan offers. Well, the situation was a bit more complicated with Jean, but he allegedly managed to sign it too.

   He ignored Kevin. There was no way anyone aside from maybe Wymack would sign him with his background.

 

   “There has to be a logical reason.”

   Aaron was key-smashing the controller, while Andrew tried to concentrate on his book. His twin gave up on trying to pull the vendor’s name out of him and chose denial as his coping mechanism.

   “I know.”

   “Maybe he didn’t notice himself?” Aaron offered. “Heard he lived in Europe for a while, could it be a cultural difference? Like with Jean.”

   “Jean is bi.”

   “No he isn’t!” Then the realization seemed to hit Aaron’s innocent little straight head. “Is he?! But he had a crush on Renee, no?”

   “And what on earth do you think bisexual means?” Andrew asked, suddenly questioning their kinship. This idiot was aiming to be a neurosurgeon. “You fool.”

   Aaron turned red. “You know I’m new to this, asshole! The fuck would I know?”

   “It says what it is!”

   “Not the point! Magic isn’t real, so it couldn’t possibly work. So what the fuck happened to Josten? Probably placebo.”

   That would solve Andrew’s issues. If only it was that simple.

   “He called me hot today, Aaron.” He forced the information out, immediately feeling the want to bury himself. “And told me my arms look nice .”

   Aaron’s face was deprived of any kind of positive sentiment at that moment.

   “Ain’t no way.” He breathed. “No, it cannot be! Maybe he was one of you queers all along. Fuck, we didn’t notice!” Then after some consideration he paused the game and looked him dead in the eye, body tense and braced. “Maybe Kevin is gay.”

   Andrew finally understood what questioning your whole life and existence meant.

"You absolute moron.”

Chapter 4: Hey, Kevin-

Summary:

“What do you want?” Kevin groaned. He hated stopping a Troyan match and was even more pissed about it now since Neil didn’t join him.
“Look! Isn’t this your friend?” He asked, turning the screen towards Kevin.
“Sounds like him. Wait what–” Kevin read it again and frowned. “No.”
“You think it's about me?”
“How many Neils do you think he knows?”

Notes:

New chapter guys! A few of you already figured it out, but here is the big reveal! Also big thank you for ilydowa for beta reading!

   Neil considered himself as a simple person. Well, if you consider having a whole ass mafia legacy behind your back simple, that is. But he was past that, so so past. He did his best to live that simple life he always dreamed of on the run. A life he thought of as an unrealistic daydream only a few years ago.

   Neil was not a romantic, no. He tried kissing once, and the experience was lackluster, at least not worth the beating he got. It was not unpleasant, but also not worth repeating, even now. Wymack and Abby didn’t dig around too much in his private matters, but the latter being a nurse did mean a very awkward talk session on the topic, when Neil did his best to express whatever his stance on the topic was. Abby brought up asexuality as a possible label for him. It was a spectrum, which Neil didn’t see much reason to dwell into so he ignored it.

   “Kevin?” He yelled from behind his laptop, suddenly unsure how to make sense of the situation.

   His years on the run were nothing more of an old memory nowadays. There was not much he kept from that way of life, aside from learned instincts and a worn duffle bag to ground him. One thing though was his Etsy shop, he set up for extra money. It didn’t do especially well; the pricing was outrageous he knew, but it was an emergency stash he could access from anywhere. Usually, he answered his orders with a nice message and a pic of some thrown together nicknacks with some consideration for colors and shit and left the rest to fate. This order was different.

   “What do you want?” Kevin groaned. He hated stopping a Troyan match and was even more pissed about it now since Neil didn’t join him.

   “Look! Isn’t this your friend?” He asked, turning the screen towards Kevin.

   “Sounds like him. Wait what–” Kevin read it again and frowned. “No.”

   “You think it's about me?”

   “How many Neils do you think he knows?”

   That was sound logic. So it was probably about him. Andrew Minyard however never expressed any interest in him, which made the order all the more confusing. Neil was asked out by girls a few times since becoming part of the Wymack household. When he turned all of them down, guys also started trying their luck, even though he was straight forward about his disinterest regardless of gender.

   “Hm… thought he and Reene were together.” Neil muttered.

   “Does it matter? We could be watching the Troyans right now.”

   That was also sound logic. But his shop did experience a small stagnation during the past year since he got busy building up a life and all, and this was basically a freebie.

   “How do you flirt with people?” He asked, quickly opening a new tab to ask the very same question from google.

   “Oh fuck, please no,” Kevin whined beside him. “Neil, you can’t! He should focus on Exy! You too!”

   “Shut up and help!”

   Andrew had the image of highschool delinquent taped on his forehead with big red exclamation marks all over it. From his heavy leather boots and chains, to his habit of chain smoking behind the exy court, Andrew delivered with perfect naturality. Hopefully, wikihow’s tips applied even to him.

   “Why?!” Kevin cried. “It would be easier for both of you if you remain heterosexual.”

   “Like you and Knox? Oh wait you had something with Jean last year right? So?”

   Kevin’s face turned red, as always when the two friends of theirs came up. At least he had the self awareness to leave the topic alone. Neil meanwhile clicked on the wikihow page. The first tip was eye contact. It sounded fairly simple. The next point, smiling wasn’t exactly his strong suit. No arm crossing allowed, but the page told him to play with his hair or jewellery. A little over the top, but maybe as a last resort. He read the rest with a notebook in hand.

 

   A week passed since then and Neil tried his best to use some of the wikihow tips. He made a suggestive joke. He praised his body and his skills. Thinking about it, he cringed. Maybe he came onto him a bit strong, although his words were well deserved. Even he could see it.

   What puzzled him was that even after all his good efforts and their obvious effectiveness Andrew didn’t leave a rating. He should send a reminder, maybe? Maybe he should up his game even more? He still had a list of unused tips.

   What if the obviousness was not the problem? All of it happened in less than intimate situations, mainly because he never really hung out with him alone anyways. Now that he thought about it, Neil didn’t have any idea what he did in his free time aside from demolishing his lungs. Kevin said they went to a few parties together and even slipped into a nightclub once. However there was a gigantic unmapped area in Andrew’s schedule.

   Following the guy around would be, even to his fucked up sense or normality, creepy. Discovering the secret life of Andrew Minyard was adventurous and interesting. Yeah, he had to give it a go.

  “Hey, Kevin–”

Chapter 5: I want to know you better

Summary:

“Who told you I’ll be here?” Andrew asked.
“Kevin.” Neil told him, then his expression shifted. “Problem?”
It was a challenge. Andrew sat down in the same booth as him, after all.
“Are you stalking me?”
Neil dropped the salad leaf and his tower crumbled down. He looked ready to jump out of the booth and run for the door.
“No?” He said, or more like asked. “I just— I want to know you better.”

Notes:

Hello everyone! Thank you for your patience, work was kicking my ass. Hope you'll like this chapter <3

   Andrew was going mad. Maybe he was already broken in the head, and this was fate ever so kindly letting him know. He just pushed in the greasy glass door of his favorite diner when he noticed Neil Josten in one of the booths. He was staring at a cup of black coffee as if the answers of his greatest questions about life itself were swimming somewhere in the cup. His cheek was perched on his fist, bringing all of Andrew’s attention to his cheekbones. And from then on he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. Andrew’s gaze shifted to his cold blue eyes and his furrowed brows, the beautiful shape of his cupid’s bow. His lips were slightly chapped. He could probably help with that.

   Oh no. Aaron was right, this is disgusting.

   Neil looked up, eyes suddenly bright with expectation zeroing in on him. Fuck. He had no right to look at him like this. Andrew considered not sitting next to him. Yeah he shouldn’t, there were plenty of free tables.

   He slid into the worn out red fake leather seat facing Neil. Andrew made no comment, didn’t even greet him in any way, but that didn’t stop the grin creeping onto Neil’s face. He tried to stifle it without success, straightening up in his seat.

   The server came up to them, clicking his pen to grab their attention. Andrew ordered a large plate of pancakes and ice cream for himself. Neil grimaced at him, not even attempting to hide his obvious lack of culinary palate. Andrew should be finding that unattractive, but he already reached a pathetic level at this point, making up half baked arguments. There was little to no reason why Neil shouldn’t be attractive to anyone with eyes, even as he ordered the saddest looking bagel off of the menu.

   “What are you doing here Josten?” He asked, with as much indifference in his voice as he could possibly manage. “You hate sweets.”

   “How would you know?” Neil crooked his eyebrow at him. His hand was toying with the string of his gray hoodie, which ate up his form like a burlap sack.

   “You never eat dessert with us.”

   “Maybe I had a craving.” He said. Liar.

   “For the mystery hazard sandwich? At least eat something appetizing if you want to convince me.”

   Neil frowned at him.

   “What’s wrong with my bagel?”

   The server  came back with their orders. The pancakes glistered with syrup and melted butter, something to look forward to on this mess of a day. However the tower of stacked ice cream selection wouldn’t wait for him forever, not with the already collapsing whipped cream and artificial strawberry syrup threatening to tip over onto the table. He dug in without fanfare. Neil frowned at his own sandwich, the limp piece of salad peeking out from between damp pieces of bread. He lifted the top up and his eyebrows twitched.

   “What sauce is this?” He asked, staring at the offender as if it would reveal the diner’s secret recipes. “Is that chicken?”

   “Do you interrogate your favorite food every time you order it, or are you putting on a show especially for me?”

   Andrew regretted his unfortunate choice of words right away. Neil perked up, dropping the sad sandwich’s least offensive layer, as if it ceased to exist all of the sudden.

   “I could put on a show for you.” He crooned, wiggling his eyebrows.

   “Say another word and I’ll shove this spoon down your throat.”

   “Shove something else down my–,”

   Andrew slammed his heaping spoon — full of extra sweet marzipan flavored ice cream, drenched in an even sweeter syrup — right into the back of Neil’s throat as promised. Noone can say now he doesn’t keep to his promises. Neil coughed a few times, plastering his hand over his mouth to dull it.

   “What the fuck Drew, how can you eat this?”

   Those 70 bucks were gone forever.

   Yet he stayed. Neil seemingly gave up on flirting, sparing Andrew’s sanity for the time being. He disassembled the sandwich quietly as Andrew scooped up as many of the flavours as he could in one move. Sweets have not been accessible before Bee. They were treats on special days, when a social worker or the pig visited. Only one of his foster parents let him have them regularly and she was — Andrew already moved past her. Well, he was working on it anyway.

   Bee gave them money to spend on what they wanted. No more clothes passed down from other kids, or worn out books he had to return to the library. He was allowed to have things. Once a week, he could come to this place and get high on sugar. No supervisor to demand gratitude, no exchange, no debt to repay. And now Neil was here. Neil, who was currently building a Jenga tower from diced chicken and sad slices of bread.

   “Who told you I’ll be here?” Andrew asked.

   “Kevin.” Neil told him, then his expression shifted. “Problem?”

   It was a challenge. Andrew sat down in the same booth as him, after all.

   “Are you stalking me?”

   Neil dropped the salad leaf and his tower crumbled down. He looked ready to jump out of the booth and run for the door.

   “No?” He said, or more like asked. “I just— I want to know you better.”

   Andrew set aside his now empty parfait cup and pulled the pancakes In front of him. He sliced a nice small bite off.

   “To know?” He asked, inspecting the sweets impaled on his fork. “Is that what you are up to?”

   “Like I said,” Neil smirked, “you piqued my interest.”

   “You don’t swing.”

   “I do not.” Neil confirmed. “Maybe it will go away, maybe not. Why not indulge in it while it lasts?”

   Because it was not Neil. It was Andrew’s stupid love spell. The love spell he ordered despite Neil’s clear stance on his sexuality, for the selfish reason of not being able to get over a stupid crush. And now the only option he could possibly choose was to reject Neil’s advances, his clumsy, awkward attempts at flirting, and his enticing attention. In any other situation Andrew would have had him pinned against a wall behind the school. Or better, in the privacy of his room. However, Neil’s sudden interest was too good to be true, and he had to be reminded of it every second spent in his presence. The fact he couldn't just reject Neil was the most infuriating part of the whole situation. He was no better after all.

   “Do as you wish.”

   If Andrew let himself forget about the spell while listening to Neil’s exy fanatic speeches, or his bitching about Kevin it was just a slip up. If he asked Neil about his strategies in a hypothetical zombie apocalypse, that was just mild entertainment. None of it was real. Especially not the blissful peace in Neil’s eyes as he laid his head on his arms, staring at Andrew. The fucking staring.

   Andrew had to put an end to this.

Chapter 6: Undo and Forget

Summary:

Abram’s Rituals: Hey. Could you leave a review already?

Andrew huffed. All that flowery language flew out through the window it seemed. He started typing.

A.M.Dobson: 1 star. Undo the spell.

Notes:

Hey guys! I finally got everything smooth hopefully. This chapter is yet again beta read by my lovely Ilydowa!!! Check her out on Cara and Twitter! Thank you again darling <3

   Andrew didn’t believe in magic. At least that's what he tried to tell himself when Neil managed to find him behind the bleachers. And the rooftop. And the small space behind the dumpsters. It was as if Neil suddenly grew a sixth sense for locating Andrew. A fucking bloodhound, he was, following the scent of cigarettes, his cologne, or the clicking of his chains perhaps. Even worse, his own mind was turning against him. Instead of seeing Neil as the creepy fucking stalker he clearly was, Andrew Minyard found himself scanning his environment for a glimpse of red locks or a decade old band T-shirt. Aaron’s stupidity was affecting his brain. That was the only possible explanation.

   Said doppelganger was fussing with his hair in front of  the tiny mirror taped onto Andrew’s locker door, trying to get it under control.

   “Told you not to use the whole bottle.” Andrew said, leaning against the wall beside him. “Did you want to spare me the effort of stabbing the cheerleader to death?”

   “Fuck you!”

   Well, he tried to save the heteros. Aaron stopped destroying his needle locks as his eyes caught on the poster of a half naked Jensen Ackles plastered to the back.

   “Are you serious?”

   “Don’t we all need something to get us through the day?” Andrew asked, toying with his rings. “Are you done yet?”

   “No?!” Aaron half yelled, making a guy next to them jump in surprise. “We have to fix this somehow, I promised to meet up with Katelyn before chem.”

   “We? No, no. I warned you, now you can deal with this alone.”

   Aaron gave him an unimpressed look. Copycat.

   “What happened to your hair?”

   Kevin stood tall like a Guilliver next to them, his backpack flung on one shoulder, and smoothie in hand. His mystery drink of the day was bright orange and smelled predominantly like carrot and cucumber. Andrew almost gagged as Kevin took a sip through his straw. Kevin felt no shame about his taste. In fact he deliberately chose a glass flask, having a way too strong opinion on plastic ones compared to what the average person would have the energy for.

   Aaron groaned into his hands.

   “He styled it.” Andrew said tugging on one of the spikes.

   Kevin’s brows pulled together. Goldenboy never had a bad hairday in his life. Even if he did, his pecks wouldn’t let anyone concentrate on his hair long enough to notice.

   Aaron’s head suddenly whipped up. Andrew was ready to watch whatever was about to happen. It promised to be absolute cinema.

   “Kevin,” Aaron breathed as if he found the messiah. “You style your hair right?”

   “Sometimes?” Kevin jerked his shoulder. “I use an air dryer.”

   “What now?” Aaron asked, then shook his head. “Do you use pomade?”

   “I use mousse.”

   “Fucking what now?” Aaron whined.

   Andrew snorted. Homophobia didn’t pay off, it seemed. Aaron was basically banned from any product that wasn’t three in one or an aggressively alcohol and patchouli smelling deodorant. Luther managed to make a conditioner equal to homosexuality and Nicky’s facewash was a direct road towards cocaine.

   Andrew still remembered the first time they went on a summer trip to Germany. Upon seeing Aaron’s dry, cracked cuticles and wonky shaped nails Nicky immediately booked a manicure with Erik’s niece. Aaron looked like a deer in headlights as they stepped into the salon, and almost had a heart attack when the girl asked if he wanted gel too. All tension left his body as soon as Greta started massaging lotion into his dry hands. Nicky ended up buying him a hand care pack that Christmas with a guide and a coupon from Greta.

   Aaron’s process was a slow one. He took interest in Andrew’s facewash, but refused to use moisturiser too, which ended in disastrously dry skin, and destroyed his trust in skincare for a while. However, ever since Katelyn and him started meeting up before chemistry classes Aaron’s interest resurfaced. If Andrew noticed his facewash and moisturiser’s newfound nomadic habits, he didn’t voice it.

   “If you wash your hair I can style it for you.” Kevin said.

   “You have them with you?” Aaron frowned. “Why?”

   “Because we have practice today.”

   “Yeah, after class.” Aaron said. “Wait, how come I never see you do it?”

   “Because the Queen needs his deluxe shower with conditioner. Not that you know what that is.” Andrew said. “Day, do something with him! At this rate he will have a breakdown and vote republican.”

   Aaron shoved him back. Andrew’s arm flung at him at the contact, but he managed to stop before actually landing a hit. Aaron seemed to realise his mistake, because his anger morphed into an uncomfortable uncertainty. They were still working on… this. And Aaron still turned into a tense little mouse whenever he remembered why he shouldn’t touch Andrew, especially not like this.

   “See you later.” He mumbled, then grabbed Kevin by the arm and dragged him towards the locker rooms.

   Andrew needed a cigarette.

 

   Andrew sat on the rooftop with his phone in his hands. He made a record long snake without biting himself in the ass even once. Hah. Unlike in real life.

   Neil Josten was sprawled out behind him, bathing in the sun. His lips were slightly open, hair tussled by the wind. He looked like a wet dream, especially since his oversized hoodie looked fairly new for once. Character development at its finest.

   The bloodhound found him just as he lit a cigarette and stayed for the smoke. At least that was his excuse.

   “Saw Kevin and Aaron at the lockers.” Neil said.

   “You want a little star for having eyes?” Andrew asked, leaning back on the heel of his palm. His snake bit into its own body and died. Andrew didn’t start a new game. “Was his hair nice?”

   “What?” Neil asked. “I guess? It looked like Kevin’s. Longer, but similar. Why?”

   Andrew let out a hum. Katelyn will not be stabbed today. Boohoo. Even worse, he will have to listen to Aaron’s longing and excited chitter about how the girl so much as looked at him. A shiver ran down his spine. Metaphorically.

   “Andrew?”

   Andrew looked back at Neil from over his shoulder. Their gazes met, and fuck, Neil had no idea how he looked. How the sun lit his hair of fire or how the sky laid over his eyes like a faded veil. Andrew didn’t jump on him, showcasing his immense mental fortitude.

   “What?” Andrew asked, trying to keep the desperation building in his stomach out of his voice.

   “Will you come to Murrey’s party?” Neil asked, stretching his arms over his head.

   “Yes.” Andrew said. “Want me to keep an eye on Kevin?”

   Neil rolled on his side and propped his chin on his knuckles.

   “No need.” He said. “I’ll go with him.”

   Andrew’s breath caught in his lungs. Neil Josten didn’t do parties. In fact he wouldn't be coaxed into drinking a single can of beer. Kevin would chug down vodka as if it was water. Going to Murrey’s made sense for him, especially since Abby banned strong alcohol from the house. Something something, healthy, something something, coping mechanisms. Andrew wouldn’t know, he used to take pills with whiskey.

   Neil’s coping mechanism was running. He ran every morning, he ran through the corridors, and when the stress took a toll on him he ran laps on the exy court. His other self-care habit was escalation. Neil was a little shit, a real menace, and Andrew loved it. He knew how to start verbal fights, he knew which words would deal the most damage, and most importantly, when to make a grand escapade. With how often he was chased, Neil could be classified as a prey animal. A rabbit.

   “What prompted your newfound interest? Will we see you making contact with alcohol or should we bring you some fruit juice?” Andrew asked with an arched eyebrow.

   “I don’t drink.” Neil said. “Maybe I just want to see what makes you like these so much.”

   Aaron and his problems, Andrew thought. Though he had to admit clubbing was a good experience, he will likely repeat.

   “Free booze, which you don’t like.” Andrew said.

   “Not dancing?” Neil asked. “Now I’m disappointed.”

   His eyes raked over Andrew. Andrew inhaled, trying to get his head under control.

   “Are you a dancer, Josten?”

   “Not really,” Neil jerked his shoulder, “just wanted to see you throw some ass.”

   Andrew was ready to smother him. He stood up, and stepped over Neil’s waist with his heavy leather boots, yet Neil didn’t even flinch. He looked Andrew right in the eye, completely slack under him.

 

---

 

   Andrew avoided him for the rest of the day. In fact he skipped practice and walked back home with a speed that was just shy of running.

   Neil didn’t swing. Neil was asked out by the hottest girls and boys alike and didn’t even think about giving them a chance. His Valentine's Day chocolate always ended up in Andrew’s hands, the pieces of confessions slid into his locker in the selective paper trashcan. So why would this change?

   Andrew threw his bag in the corner of his room and turned on the computer. He logged into his Etsy account and clicked on an unread message from the seller.

 

   Abram’s Rituals: Hey. Could you leave a review already?

 

   Andrew huffed. All that flowery language flew out through the window it seemed. He started typing.

 

   A.M.Dobson: 1 star. Undo the spell.

 

   Waiting for the answer was mind wrecking. Andrew pulled out his copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray while waiting, glancing back at the screen after every page. It took hours for Glinda to answer. Bad bad witch.

 

   Abram’s Rituals: What the fuck, you were the one who ordered it???

   A.M.Dobson: And now I want you to undo it. Can you?

   Abram’s Rituals: no

   A.M.Dobson: Well then figure out a way, or I’ll destroy you.

   Abram’s Rituals: ???

   A.M.Dobson: I’ll write a negative review that will destroy your credibility.

   Abram’s Rituals: BUT WHY WHEN ITS WORKING

   A.M.Dobson: How would you know?

 

   Abram fell silent. Fifteen minutes passed without an answer and Andrew already started typing out his nuclear warhead of a review when the three little dots appeared at the bottom of the screen.

 

   Abram’s Rituals: You want to undo it. That means it worked. So why? Did he come on too strong?

 

   Andrew’s brows pulled together.

 

   A.M.Dobson: Why do you care?

   Abram’s Rituals: I need to know. So the next customer will be satisfied

   A.M.Dobson: It just doesn’t feel right.

   Abram’s Rituals: I see. I’ll send you a picture of the finished ritual.

 

   A few hours later Andrew received an image. A cut red thread and ash. Andrew’s heart rate betrayed him. The tight feeling in his chest was uncalled for. Because Andrew never had the right to expect anything from Neil, and he only undid the damage he had already done.

   Even his face seemed to betray him. Betsy gave him space and offered him gummies and cocoa. Aaron didn’t mention Katelyn. He sat down at their desk to prepare for his chemistry test then practiced his biology. And this was the worst part of it all. That even though Andrew never believed in magic, his mind made the connection, and he couldn’t shake it off. Because even if it wasn’t real now Andrew’s memory was filled with an alternative version of a Neil who was interested in him.

   Forgetting was never an option for Andrew.

Chapter 7: Consequences

Summary:

As a non-english speaker person the title word looks menacing.

 

“Were you interested in Andrew?” Kevin asked when they were out of earshot. The tiara tipped to the side, and Kevin pushed it back with annoyance.
The answer should have been the usual no. However Neil realized a new answer. Maybe.

Notes:

Hi everyone!
Life beat my ass, but I'm back!
With everything happening writing angst was quite depressive, but we powered trough it!
Shout out to my lovely Beta, Ilydowa!!!

Neil didn’t show up for dinner at Abby’s. Andrew’s chest tightened around his lungs, his throat aching. He didn’t know what to expect after receiving the picture. An ugly, selfish part of him prayed that Neil would look at him the same way, look for him the same way. Another part of Andrew, the more rational of the two wanted to see Neil repulsed. See realization in his eyes that the past month was filled with feelings not his own. That part of Andrew wanted Neil to make that unrealistic connection between Andrew and the mysterious force making him act alien to himself.

What happened was neither. As Bee parked her car in front of Abby’s closed garage door. Instead of opening his door, Aaron turned to Andrew who stayed just as still.

“What?” Andrew spat. “Shoo, shoo!”

Aaron just shook his head. “Don’t act like nothing happened.” He said. “Did Neil do something? Do you need me to beat him up?”

And as always, Aaron managed to hit the nail in the worst way possible.

“He did nothing.” Andrew said. Even though he tried to keep his voice apathetic and neutral as usual, his anger swept into it. He closed his eyes and counted to three. “Say a word to Neil and I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

Aaron’s brows pulled together, his face tight. He didn’t answer before he threw the car door open and jumped out. Andrew took a moment to calm down then followed.

Bee waited patiently for them at the door. Unlike usual Abby didn’t run out to greet them. Bee pushed the doorbell and waited, giving the boys a reassuring smile. It was meant for Andew.

Wymack opened the door, stress radiating off of him. He greeted Bee with a hug, but not many words. In fact after they entered and he closed the door behind them Wymack ran straight up the stairs. Abby soon came down, taking two steps at a time.

“Hi!” She said to Bee as she hugged her close. Then she turned to Andrew and Aaron. “Hello boys! Kevin is in the kitchen, would you go help him?” She asked, sweet and cheerful as ever.

Yet Andrew wasn't fooled by her. No, he knew when people hide something behind cheeriness.

Aaron bolted for the kitchen. Bee looked at Andrew patiently. Andrew looked up at the end of the staircase.

“Neil?” Bee asked.

Abby’s face fell into an apologetic expression. “He doesn’t feel well. Wymack is with him, we will see if he’ll join us.”

Andrew’s body went still. Nausea hit him, and he submitted to it, because he knew he deserved it. But Neil didn’t. Andrew knew how it felt, questioning your own feelings. When someone or — in this case something — convinces you that you enjoy what is forced upon you. He knew the feeling of the understanding sinking in, the discomfort about the past actions filling one with shame and dread. And it was him who caused it.

Andrew pushed past the two women, shoving Abby aside with his shoulder. If someone called after him he didn’t hear it, deafened by blood pumping in his ears. He needed to throw up.

The backyard was quiet. The cold twilight air hit him and soothed his skin, a momentary relief. He fished out his cigarettes from his leather jacket’s pocket and lit it, uncaring if anyone will see him through the glass door. After the second drag, he threw up into the rose bed.

Dryheaving came with a familiar pain, only worsening the constant gagging. There was nothing to chough up, only bile. He should leave.

Jumping the fence was easy. Andrew had plenty of practice over the years, the same ones that he now felt coming back as flashbacks. An assortment of the worst. Bee deserved better than to be left without a goodbye or a message that he was safe and on his way home, but fuck it if only he had the mental capability for that. Once again, life shows a person’s true colors. And once again the old saying proved to be true: Become who you’re afraid to be.

Andrew felt another wave of bile hitting his throat as he landed on the pavement and took off. Honestly, this all was caused by hubris. Like Tereus, lusting over someone he should have never even seen as an option, thus causing them misery.

Longing never bought anything good for Andrew, this much he knew.

 

Aaron and Bee arrived home not long after Andrew shut the bathroom door on himself. The boiling water was still running, filling the tub and coating the mirrors in mist. He already took a cold shower; the dirty feeling coating his skin and scratching at it still lingered, but was much weaker. The next step was Bee’s ritual.

Now he had a hot cocoa sitting on the sink’s edge, a lavender bath bomb in the water. Andrew dumped some bubble bath gel in it too, then a random salt Aaron bought.

He heard a knock.

“Andrew?” Bee asked from the other side. Andrew knocked back, letting her know he was there but needed space. “If you need anything we will be downstairs.” She said.

Meaning that their room was safe. He couldn’t handle Aaron tonight. He would ask questions Andrew had no energy to answer.

As he lowered himself into the bath he let his mind race. Was not believing it would work an excuse? His intent was still there. His payment was there. This whole situation was stupid.

The hot cocoa along with the steam made Andrew feel almost unbearably hot. He needed to tell Bee.

 

When he dragged himself down Bee was already waiting for him with two bowls of ice cream. Aaron was eating his own in the beanbag next to the coffee table, with a sour expression. They most likely were already past a discussion. Andrew sat down next to Bee, on the other end of the couch.

“I fucked up.” Andrew said, not missing the frown on Aaron’s face. “I forced myself on Neil.”

Bee’s stoned professionalism cracked. She looked dumbfounded.

“How so?” She asked with practiced detachment. “That doesn’t really sound like you.”

Aaron suddenly groaned.

“Andrew, you can’t be serious! Is this about the spell?”

“The spell?” Bee asked.

Curse his carbon-copy. Andrew planned to keep that unimportant part for himself, but so be it.

“I ordered a love spell and it worked.” Andrew said slowly. “Which means I forced myself on him and he doesn’t even know.”

Bee considered him for a minute. She hardly gave her thoughts away, something Andrew was usually grateful for. Now it is added to the heaviness over the room. Andrew felt disgusted by himself. Bee should too. She would.

“Do you believe in magic, Andrew?” She asked, laying her clasped hands in her lap.

“I—” The answer stuck in his throat. He did not. Now he does. Does he? “I don’t know.”

“Did you when you ordered it?” She pressed.

“No.”

Bee seemed to settle.

“So you say you forced yourself on Neil with a spell,” She repeated, “It's hard to imagine this, to be honest. What happened after the spell?”

“He flirted with me.”

Bee nodded, while Aaron disgraced their face with that heinous expression.

“Andrew,” Bee started, carefully. “Is it possible that Neil started flirting with you not because of the spell but because he likes you?”

Always the optimistic. Neil was a force of nature, chaos on two legs. He was also loud as fuck about wanting to be left alone. Someone like him won’t just take a celibacy oath for fun, or at least won’t follow through. Asexuality also didn’t just evaporate only because Andrew wished it. Technically it did, which was the problem. He should have never wished for it in the first place.

“No,” Andrew answered. “Yesterday, I told the witch to undo the spell.”

“And this is why Neil didn’t show up for dinner?”

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“You can’t fucking believe this! Did you go insane?” Aaron asked, half yelling from his beanbag. His voice made Andrew wince.

Bee gestured for him to lower his voice. Aaron rolled his eyes but settled back again.

“To be honest, I also don’t see how this would be possible,” Bee said, “I don’t intend to discredit what you are saying, but we should try to stay grounded. However, even if the spell was real magic you didn’t expect it to work, and stopped it when you felt like it did.”

This shouldn’t matter. If one could commit sexual violence without knowing, then love spells must fall in this category. The witch community he found on Tumblr seemed to think so too.

Bee scooted closer to him, but kept her hands to herself.

“How about this?” She asked, “I will have a session with Neil and Kevin next week. We can make sure what happened and discuss it.”

The deal sounded like what a parent would bargain with with a ten year old child, rather than a seventeen year old, but Andrew let it go. Bee gave him an encouraging smile, as if he deserved it. Bad Bee.

 

Neil leaned against the wooden column holding the patio above them. Murrey’s parents owned a neat cabin near the woods, a perfect place for their son’s houseparties and the tall bonfire in the middle of the garden. He almost didn’t come, but Neil knew better than to hole up again. He had to face Andrew again, sooner or later.

Neil knew he had no reason to feel so— he didn’t even know. Disappointed? Let down? They felt like an understatement, yet overly dramatic words at the same time. Because honestly, what would he be so disappointed about? Andrew was into him. Enough to pay seventy bucks, then he got what he wanted and ended up not liking it. Neil shouldn’t care, he didn’t swing. It was probably for the better anyways; what would have he done if Andrew wanted him anyways? Reject him after playing his part? So all things considered, this was the best outcome. Why was he so salty about it then?

“It feels bad to be rejected even when you are uninterested in the person, you know.” Kevin told him with a beer in his hand. He swirled the liquid around in the bottle.

He was probably right.

“I don’t care.” Neil lied.

“You locked yourself in your room to cry.” Kevin pointed out.

“I didn’t cry Kevin, I climbed out of the window and went for a run.”

“Which is your version of crying.” Kevin rolled his eyes.

It was his version of every unpleasant emotion, thank you very much, and a way better one than alcoholism. Neil watched as three guys came up to them, bowing deep and presenting a pink tiara for Kevin.

“For the Queen,” One of them proclaimed. “May our test be blessed.”

Kevin took the tiara and put it on his head. “Just don’t forget the years, Mrs. Wallace is a maniac about them. She won’t ask about cultural attitudes, but learn who was who.”

“Long live the Queen!” One of the guys said as they backed away.

Kevin and his history mania earned him special treatment from the poor souls on the edge of failing their class. After the first gift it quickly became a ritual. By now Kevin owned a whole collection of cheap capes, tiaras and scepters. He wore them all proudly every occasion someone was saved by his tips. On last April Fools’ day he was paraded around in the corridors, carried by four boys. Neil felt particularly keen to use his phone’s camera that day.

“Were you interested in Andrew?” Kevin asked when they were out of earshot. The tiara tipped to the side, and Kevin pushed it back with annoyance.

The answer should have been the usual no. However Neil realized a new answer. Maybe.

To be fair, Neil spent a lot of time with Andrew before, but only on the shared dinners and family vacations. Neither of them were social and Neil never felt too compelled to search for Andrew’s hideouts at school. Andrew, however, was actually really fun to be around. Neil had a feeling if Andrew wanted to ask him out he might have even said yes. The realization hit him at once.

“Was I?” He asked, looking deep into his red cup. “Maybe? I guess.”

Kevin frowned.

“Wait, you actually were? Neil, you should stay straight if you want to be a professional athlete!”

Neil splashed his water onto Kevin. He should have known better already than to make comments. Kevin barely flinched. He simply took a deep breath and looked up to the sky. Neil threw the cup at him too, then bolted just before Kevin could grab onto his arm.

After all the drinks Kevin downed his chasing skills greatly fell behind Neil’s cardio. Neil squished through the crowd and smaller groups of people, vanishing from Kevin’s sight. Yet before he could slow down he tripped and fell face down into the dewy grass. He looked to the side and saw someone standing next to him, holding a branch now right at his feet.

“Fuck you!” Neil said, as he rolled onto his ass. His neat white shirt Kevin forced onto him was covered in grass and mud.

“Eat shit and die.” Aaron said above him and Neil’s face whipped up to look at him.

“You?!” He yelled. “What the hell?”

Aaron arched an eyebrow then dropped the branch into Neil’s lap. His stance was firm and, despite him being Aaron, eager to land a blow. When Neil tried to get up, Aaron pushed him down with a foot on his chest. Neil considered biting him just then.

“What did you do to Andrew?”

Neil froze. Lying trough between his teeth would have been easy, so fucking easy he irked to do so. It was right on the tip of his tongue, coming to him from second nature. Yet he didn’t. Because it was Andrew.

“Is he upset?” Neil asked, much more timid.

 Aaron leaned more weight on his chest, forcing the air out of Neil’s lungs.

“What did you do?” He asked again, rolling every syllable from his tongue in chunks. He might as well spat fire next.

“Might have fucked up a bit?” Neil asked. “How is he?”

Aaron took a step back.

“Bad. Now explain, or I’ll turn you into a cadaver!”

Neil tried to scoot further from Aaron.

“So I might have an Etsy shop.” He started, tasting the truth on his tongue. It was terribly sour. “And I might have received seventy bucks for a love spell. Seemed like an easy five star to get shit rolling again.”

Aaron’s face fell at once.

“So you played him? Oh, I’ll fucking gut you Josten!”

“No! I— well kinda,” Neil admitted. “But actually he messaged me to undo it.”

“Because he thought he forced himself on you, you piece of shit!”

“Who would even think that?!”

“Him!”

Neil rolled just in time to avoid being stomped on, yet Aaron was on top of him in no time yet again. The first blow left a wet trail spring from his nose, the next got him in the eye. Aaron was a backliner. He could do plenty of damage if he wished. Suddenly Aaron was yanked off of him. Neil heaved, his chest aching.

Kevin stood tall above them, eyes bouncing between the boys. He held Aaron up with his arms hooked under his armpits while the blond trashed like a fish. He heaved, clearly exhausted by the chase. Neil let his head fall back to the ground. Andrew thought he— how the hell would it even work? Neil had no idea, however this wasn’t important. He had to fix it somehow.

Chapter 8: Coming clean

Summary:

Now, he stood under Andrew's window considering his idea. Aaron was at Katelyn's place. Andrew was home, alone, perfectly corner-able. Neil considered knocking on the front door, but that would allow Andrew to have a choice in letting him in. That would have been counterproductive.

Notes:

Hi! This chapter needed shit tons of editing. Andrew gained autonomy and came onto Neil a little to strong. Its fixed now.
Thanks again to my gorgeous Beta reader, Ilydowa.
She also decided Neil's theme song for the chapter, look out for the *!
Spoiler its Legs by Naomi Smalls, preformed by Lucian Piane,
https://youtu.be/iuGvnPn16v8

Neil had a preferred place for therapists in his life. Namely, as far from him as possible. It was tried and proven best for his own mental stability. Yet here he was, sitting in front of Betsy after thinking he was finally freed from the mandatory visits. Neil worked hard for that two months of freedom. Ever since becoming part of the Wymack household he spent his sessions in silence, ignoring the therapist. It became his meditation time. His quite hour.

The therapy absolutely worked. He did lots of self reflection in these sessions and even made life changing decisions, like sending a picture to Jeremy and Jean from Kevin's after workout photo stash. From Kevin's phone of course. The group name — This is Sparta — did not help the queer allegations in Neil's humble opinion. He was also delighted to see Kevin's nick name, Helen of Trojans. When Jean and Jeremy go to USC Neil will revisit the topic.

It's been a long while now since Betsy' and Neil's relationship was in any shape or form professional. He still didn't initiate conversations with her and he could tell she also wasn't pushing anything. It was coexistence.

Right now the setting was familiar yet so different. They were in Neil's room. He let her in after she asked if they could talk. The unasked questions hung between them like a flickering lamp, impossible to ignore. Neil didn't know how much Betsy knew, not after what happened with Aaron.

Betsy placed a cup of hot cocoa in front of him. The mug had the PSU fox paw on it, an obvious souvenir from Wymack's workplace.

"How are you, Neil?" Betsy asked. "Wymack told me you will be applying to PSU next year."

"We can skip this, you know." Neil said, pulling his knee to his chest. "How much did Aaron tell you?"

Betsy considered him for a moment.

"I know quite a lot, I think." She answered. "Yet most of it sounds a bit farfetched."

Farfetched was certainly a word for it. Neil could imagine.

"Aaron said Andrew believes he forced himself on me." Neil said, tracing the fox paw with his thumb. "That's not true."

"I see." Betsy said. "So could you tell me what happened exactly?"

"Can't you just tell him he did nothing wrong?" Neil spat at her. "I did something fucked up. Aaron already knows everything."

"I don't think he would believe me." Betsy admitted. "You both went trough a lot of traumatic experiences. It's possible that the coping mechanisms that helped you back then might be hindering you now."

Honestly, the whole situation was as fucked up as it could get. Neil would have preferred a one on one with the guy himself, rather then his mother. Thinking about it, maybe Neil should have just let his father dice him up.

"I mean he paid for me, I didn't think he would get a mental breakdown over it!"

Betsy's eyebrows pulled together.

"I-I'm sorry? Could you expand on that? Andrew kind of skipped over this part I believe."

"He wanted —," Neil waved with his hand. "Me, I guess? And I thought, okay, easy sale. And now he is upset for getting what he wanted as if it wasn't me who initiated everything!"

Betsy opened then closed her mouth. Her gaze drifted to scrutinize the wall, clearly considering her options. She was definitely thinking about telling on him to Wymack. Neil wouldn't mind losing his seventy bucks, but being outed as an online scammer would shatter his already crumbling credibility in the eyes of his family.

"Neil," She started, voice controlled and careful as if holding back all the judgment she was likely feeling. "Are you doing sex work?"

Neil's mental spiral stopped in its tracks only to fall into a whole new one. He wanted to say he didn't, but — Andrew technically did pay him in exchange for romantic attention, even if Andrew himself wasn't aware.

"No?" He answered unsure. "Like I said, it was an opportunity for some easy money. My shop was pretty stagnant in the last few years."

"Shop?" Betsy asked, voice full of disbelief. "Neil what kind of shop do you have exactly?"

Neil froze. She knew about his spell store. She had to, Aaron already figured out it was him who sold Andrew the spell. Except if—

"My Etsy shop?" He asked. "Where I sell spells?"

"You were the witch who sold Andrew the spell?!" Betsy asked, flabbergasted.

So maybe she didn't know. As Neil replayed the conversation in his head it suddenly hit him how bad it all sounded. If this wasn't karma life might just hate him. He longed for his father's basement.

"I'll talk to him." He said, jumping to his feet. "I'm leaving!"

Without waiting for an answer, Neil left his room as fast as he could, leaving a stunned and confused Betsy behind.

Once out of the house Neil lit a cigarette and begun searching for a quiet spot. Neil knew he is not the type to make well thought out decisions. He had no deluded belief in his mental abilities. Usually it wasn't a problem. If someone didn't like it they could get over it on their own. However, this was Andrew. Even worse, Neil had to admit this blew up in his face in every way imaginable. He thought he was already used to it, but damn, this was a next level.

Andrew was reasonable. He also seemed apathetic enough not to care if life, or in this case Neil, decides to try his patience.

He inhaled the smoke, long and deep. He could tell Andrew it all meant nothing, he just decided to play the game life offered him for some easy cash. That would do. Andrew would be rightfully angry at him, maybe even for the rest of their lives. They weren't exactly friends anyways. Worst case scenario family dinners with the Dobsons would get awkward as fuck for quite a while.

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth. Before all this he wouldn't have thought spending time with Andrew could actually be pleasant. Now he didn't want it to stop.

At the end, all he could do was tell the truth for once.

 

Neil wasn't huge on planning his moves in advance. Once, long ago, he lived a life in which every day was just a series of tasks necessary for survival and spontaneous escapades. Get food, run the moment someone looks at you for too long. Find a motel room, leave when a suspicious person seems to be sniffing around. Never get too comfortable, never take out too many items from your duffel bag, in case you have to escape abruptly. He had to admit planning ahead was a useful skill, yet Neil never put energy into learning it.

Now, he stood under Andrew's window considering his idea. Aaron was at Katelyn's place. Andrew was home, alone, perfectly corner-able. Neil considered knocking on the front door, but that would allow Andrew to have a choice in letting him in. That would have been counterproductive.

Therefore, the only option was clear. Neil grabbed a bucket lying nearby then used the window-sill to pull himself up. The bucket tipped over as he pushed off it to gain momentum, but hopefully he wouldn't need it again. His fingers ached from holding his entire weight on such a narrow surface. He anchored his feet and looked for something he could use as his next step.

Even Neil was surprised when he managed to cling onto Andrew's window. Pulling himself up was quite a feat; for Neil every day was leg day* and cardio. Running away from your problems required a shit ton of stamina.

Suddenly the window opened, almost sending Neil flying. Andrew looked down at him with a rare expression of shock. For Andrew's standards anyway.

"What the hell if it's isn't Koko's delivery service! No more orders to deliver here, shoo shoo!"

Then he closed the window with unnecessary force.

"Andrew?" Neil groaned. "Let me in, I want to talk!"

Andrew came back with a mug in his hand. He made no effort to open the window again, just watched Neil as one would look at the squirrels playing outside. He took a sip.

"I want to explain," He continued, "I didn't— this wasn't… Fuck. "

His fingers hurt and Neil could feel them slip slowly. He repositioned them but falling was more and more inevitable.

"I can't hold myself forever!" Neil said. "And the ice cream will melt!"

Andrew pushed down the handle and opened the window wide, then stepped aside.

"How the fuck did you get up here in the first place?" Andrew asked. He sounded incredulous.

Neil pulled himself trough and awkwardly twisted inside the room. Andrew waited patiently while Neil collected himself and stood in front of him unsure of what the next step should be.

He decided to hand over his offering. A small pint of vanilla and raspberry ice cream with dried fruit pieces on top. It was a supposedly fancy brand, at least the price tag strongly implied so. Andrew accepted it, then inspected the cup, reading the ingredient list. He seemed to find it satisfactory.

"What do you want?" Andrew asked as he teared up the top of the pint.

Neil handed him a small spoon from his bag. Andrew took it.

"How much did Aaron tell you?" Neil asked.

"He said he wants to skin you. Wouldn't have clocked you as the Witch of the Waste."

"I have no idea who that is." Neil said. "Look, I saw your order, it seemed like an easy five star. This is how I used to earn cash when we were on the run. It has been stagnating for a while now."

Andrew snorted.

"Can't keep up with the period blood sacrifices, huh?"

Neil wanted to call him a slur and bolt. Actually, he didn't need to say sorry. Andrew was a big boy, he could deal with the situation alone.

"You paid seventy dollars for a hook up, but draw the line at period blood? Seriously?"

"I'm a man of principle." Andrew shrugged.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Neil frowned. "Point is, you didn't do anything wrong. I should have come clean."

"Now you say that."

"Well shit, I didn't think you would have a complete breakdown over me flirting with you!"

Andrew froze.

"Did Aaron say—?"

"He told me, yes."

Andrew's fingers went rigid around the spoon. Neil might have ruined Aaron's peaceful family life. It was better to steer the conversation back to the topic at hand.

"I liked spending time with you, you know." Neil admitted. "I mean, you have every right to be angry at me and I don't expect us to be the closest of friends after all this, but — I mean I thought you didn't do relationships anyway from what I heard. I was sure after a quick fling or something you would move on, but you didn't make a move? So—."

"Are you done?" Andrew asked. "I don't care about your excuses."

Neil's chest tightened. Andrew hating him would be justified. Whatever he felt was justified at this point.

"Don't pull shit like this again." Andrew said.

"I won't."

Neil's voice came out weak. Promises were never in his nature, he couldn't afford them. Decency was in a similar situation. Andrew deserved better. He didn't seem convinced by Neil, although he did let his posture loosen. A good sign, even if Neil wouldn't give himself the time of day in his place.

"Anyways, I got your seventy dollars." He said, pulling out his wallet and handing over the money. Andrew took it and shoved it into his sweatpants' pocket. "I wont bother you anymore. You are more than welcome to exact your revenge on me."

Andrew hummed. No reaction, no move. Nothing to stop Neil from hesitation. He took a step towards the door, then another; no way he will climb down the same way he got in. He turned to door knob and looked back. Andrew watched him silently, not giving away a hint of emotion, not letting Neil figure out where they stood exactly.

"You know," Neil said, desperate to get a tell-sign, "You are not even the strangest client I had."

Andrew seemed intrigued. Neil latched onto the opportunity.

"There was a girl who asked if I can cast a fertility spell on her cheater ex-boyfriend. Apparently he preferred to pull out, but was shit at it." He explained.

"Is there an update on that?" Andrew asked.

Neil smirked.

"She left a comment, stating that in only a month's time he got beaten up by the homewrecker's three brothers and the other boyfriend banding together. Five star service."

Andrew's lips twitched. He put the empty container on his desk, then approached Neil slowly. He reached over and pushed the door closed. Neil let him, his heart missing a beat.

"What a talented witch you are. Can't even imagine how your revenue stagnated with such outstanding resume." Andrew said.

Neil preened. He had to find his breath, which was definitely new. The room was dark, with only the desk lamp spilling some warm light. It caught on Andrew's hazel eyes at just the right angle. This was new.

"There was also this woman from Florida who wanted to curse his son for cutting her off. She wanted me to give him bad karma and manifest a car crash so he would have to call her to babysit."

"Don't tell me he got into an accident."

"He didn't but she got a ticket for speeding then drove into a ditch on her way home from the police station. Apparently, I fumbled the ritual and she got cursed."

"Fascinating." Andrew said, taking a step back. Neil felt disappointed for some reason. "Do you want something to drink?"

"I'm good." He said. Breaking the moment, even for a second seemed criminal.

Andrew nodded then grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of the room, down to the living room. For a moment Neil thought he will be thrown out of the house, but Andrew tossed him on the couch and sat down on the other end.

"Why witchcraft? Explain."

Neil smirked.

"I needed money that's accessible from anywhere." He said. "Credit cards were not an option. When I needed the money I would just get an online wallet and transfer the amount needed."

Andrew hummed.

"My mother is from England." Neil continued. "Brits kept their pagan traditions trough out the middle ages and mom spent a lot of time in her family's rural summerhouse. She grew up on folk stories. When we were on the run she often told me about them on long train rides or when I couldn't sleep."

"This still doesn't explain how you ended up in witchcraft and not romance-fantasy." Andrew said. "The latter would have been more lucrative by the way."

Neil gave him an unimpressed stare.

"We traveled Europe. I first saw witchcraft in Slovenia. We rented a room at a family owned bed and breakfast in the country side. The old lady put out offerings for Morana, a pagan goddess. I got a little curious and asked about it. Then in Greece I met a guy who practiced Hellenism. In Hungary a Romani woman told me she reads cards for money. At this point I knew enough to make a convincing shop."

Neil could admit this wasn't the most ethical backstory, and he already made peace with the scammer title. Caring about sensibilities was a luxury he was never able to afford. By the time he was adopted his moral compass was already misaligned.

Andrew didn't seem fazed, even if he fell considerably more silent than before.

"Abram is my middle name?" Neil said, though it came out as a question rather than a statement. "Well, at least mom called me Abram. My father never knew about it, it wasn't official. But it was more real than my old name."

Neil halted. Andrew didn't know shit about his past actually. This whole explanation likely only brought up even more questions. The only people he told the juicy details were Kevin and Jean. Aside from them only the FBI, Abby, and Wymack had the full picture. The official story was that Neil's dad killed his mother and the police took him. Andrew didn't know about the skeletons in the closet. Neil swallowed the bile on his tongue.

Andrew blinked at him, waiting. Soon he realized Neil won't continue on his own.

"Europe? Sounds a bit far even for runaways." He asked.

"Yeah. Mom was sure he would follow us. We knew too much. So she wanted to make him sweat for it."

There was no need to beat around.

"He committed tax fraud. The police started investigating and found connections between him and some cold murder cases. They've been waiting for an opportunity since forever. He was afraid me and mom would talk if he was to be sentenced to prison — which was pretty clearly going to happen by the way — so she packed our things up one night and we ran away."

Neil could still remember the night when his mother shook him awake with a bag on her shoulder. He didn't get the opportunity to pack his own. She already took care of it.

"Her family was the one who arranged their marriage so we couldn't go to them. She took enough money to last us for a while, but… Lets just say we sometimes had camping days. She was sure my father hired someone to take care of us."

Which indeed was the case. After all, a rich businessman, constantly in the public eye couldn't afford a missing wife and son right in the middle of a case like this. The fraud he could live with. How many billionaires committed such crimes without consequences? It was standard practice. Murder however, the locked basement and all of its horrors; money could buy one out from murder. Not from this many.

"He did, you see. And the prison sentence also amounted to just a slap on his wrist. He was sentenced to pay a fine and got a private cell which looked more like a hotel room. Spent a month there then switched to house arrest. The police couldn't get a hold on him without evidence authorizing a home search. We were dragged back to him."

They were locked in the basement with bare cement walls and the metallic stench of blood.

"He didn't have too much self control, you see. But the by the FBI caught onto him it was too late to save both of us."

Andrew seemed to take his time processing the information. He took it fairly fine, at least by Neil's standards. His gaze pinned Neil in place. Even if his instincts screamed at him to bolt, he couldn't. Not from him.

"And after all this you still lack self-preservation skills." He said finally.

Neil's eyes rounded.

"I'm fine."

"You play Sabrina the Teenage witch in your free time and went so far as flirting with me just to get a good review. Do you call this fine?"

"Yeah? Besides you are the one who spent seventy dollars on a love spell for a hook up." Neil pointed out.

Andrew seemed utterly devastated. Neil took it as a small victory.

"I'm done with this conversation." Andrew said.

He grabbed a CD case organizer from a box under the coffee table. Neil watched him browse trough the disks, the titles written on them with red, blue and green alcoholic markers.

"I will be going then." He said slowly standing up.

"Stay." Andrew told him, as he reached out to push him back down. He pulled out a CD and put it into the player. When he fell back onto the couch he grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.

Neil didn't exactly understand what was happening. The film Andrew started was a cartoon with beautifully painted backgrounds. The title Howl's Moving Castle appeared.

"Are we having a movie night?" Neil asked.

"You play witch online but don't know who the Witch of the Waste is. We are getting you cultured." Andrew said, getting comfortable on the couch. He laid his head on a pillow against the armrest. The image was quite serene.

Neil slipped out of his shoes and pulled his legs up. He supposed this was good. Maybe he could continue hanging out with Andrew, and have a newfound understanding of his humor. The movie was nice. Andrew was nice. Neil didn't mind staying.

The movie was halfway through the plot by the time Betsy arrived home.

"Why does she have child slaves?" Neil asked as Suliman's servants brought her tea.

"They are a visual implication." Andrew answered.

"What the bloody hell is that?"

As Betsy closed the door Neil's head whipped around. She stared at them, gaze bouncing between him and Andrew.

"Sorry for interrupting..." She said then scurried upstairs.

Andrew yelled after her, "Night Bee!"

Not mom. Neil figured they both had troubles with parental relationships then.

Neil's lids became heavy as the movie's climax neared. He lay down, careful not to touch Andrew. Calcifer turned out to be a star. Howl and Sophie stood in the middle of the flower field finally free from their curses.

Andrew stretched and his leg bumped into Neil's. When Neil looked at Andrew, wanting to make sure this was okay he found him staring at their feet. He looked up at Neil with a blank expression than turned back to the TV.

Neil melted back into the sofa with a weird satisfaction settling in his chest.

Notes:

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thighs, calves all the way
Thursday, Friday, Saturday
Sunday is the one day, I get on my runway
Ready for it hunty? Ready for it hunty?

Chapter 9: Denial is a river

Summary:

A thousand thanks to my wonderful beta reader, Ilydowa!!!!!
This fic was such a mess at first, we edited it for like... I don't even know how many days...
Happy Christmas feliks (silverfin)!

Notes:

Editor's recommendation for Andrew's anthem: Denial is a river in Egypt by Doechii.
PSA about the Post Office - I'm European, post offices are neat, who the hell would leave a package visibly on your porch if there is no fence, what the hell. Post offices are my reality, sue me!!! (Its 15 min away by BUS)

Andrew knew where to set up his defense walls. It was years of experience that granted him precision in this art. He drew a line with Kevin, regarding his dietary habits and any attempt at peer pressuring questionable cocktails on him. He drew a line with Bee, namely his smoking habit. He picked it up in juvie and placed effort into keeping it up, which was admittedly rare. He even drew a line for Aaron, though blurry and flexible. Still a line in his book, even when his brother seemed to believe he could get away with anything. Andrew also knew when to walk away, when to cut off someone. Maybe he was kinda delusional about that last part…

Neil rolled his shoulders until they popped. Andrew followed the movement from behind his eyelashes then quickly looked away. They were sitting in the furthest seat from the entrance, in the corner. Comfortably hidden, just the perfect amount of natural light reaching them. Andrew wasn't sappy, but even he could appreciate the ambiance.

Three weeks have passed since Neil scaled his wall and they cleared up the situation. Admittedly, Andrew didn't plan on spending time with Neil after. Yet Neil seeked him out after practices and slowly but surely inserted himself back into Andrew's life. It was pleasant, against all odds. Pleasant enough for Andrew to ignore Neil's lack of shame around the matter.

"Remind me why we are here again?" Neil asked.

"For your favorite sandwich." Andrew spat back and picked up the menu, skipping straight to the ice cream section.

Neil's face fell. He laid down on his arms, fidgeting with a crack in the table. Maybe he wasn't completely shameless after all. When the waiter came up to them, Andrew had no intention to let Neil order for himself. He already proved to be in need of a gentle nudge — or a more forceful shove at times.

"A Red-berry Himalaya and a Triple Selection," Andrew told the waiter.

Neil arched an eyebrow but let him handle the situation, suddenly filled with newfound curiosity.

"I don't like sweets." He said. "And I definitely won't pay for that."

Andrew only hummed. He expected positive results from this little experiment, even in-spite of Neil's lack of faith in him.

When the waitress put down the generously sized cups Neil leaned back away. His cup contained eight whole servings, the greatest enemy Neil ever found himself against without doubt. He looked ready to hiss at it.

Andrew gathered up a big bite's worth of ice-cream, collecting samples from all six of his scoops. They were drizzled with chocolate and strawberry syrup. Neil was getting a sugar high just from looking at it.

He picked up his spoon eyeing the dessert with an unhealthy amount of suspicion, then took a small amount carefully avoiding the raspberry syrup. Neil was rarely this cautious. The sight was amusing.

"It's sour?" Neil frowned, then took a bigger spoonful just to make sure his senses didn't deceive him.

"It's their healthy option." Andrew informed, not bothering to hide his disgust. It was the only dessert in the whole diner that didn't have a ton of sugar in it as it so happened. Yogurt and red berries, perfect for rabbits who despise sweet beet roots.

"Sugar free in this country?" Neil laughed. "Lies."

"I'm not the pathological liar between the two of us."

Neil shook his head then dug in. The school year was about to end and the heat of may creeped into the city. Andrew would have to give up on his comfortable soft sweaters in order to not marinate in his own sweat. Aaron wore his pastel short sleeved shirts with all his heterosexual might. Andrew noticed how they always seem to match with Katelyn's outfit. Andrew would rather overheat than follow suit.

Summer also meant a new look for Neil. Instead of his thrifted, worn out jeans he was sitting in godforsaken jorts of all things right in front of Andrew. The sight eradicated all attraction he still harbored for the boy. Then, his running shorts brought it all back. It was a vicious cycle.

The time they spent together this week was surprisingly relaxed. Andrew might have had to push down his gut reaction to Neil being… Neil at times. Clueless of how he came off or how close he stood.

"Staring." Andrew told him, trying to sound annoyed.

Neil didn't seem bothered. He just answered, "Well, you're sitting right in front of me."

It was dangerous. Neil's blue eyes rested on him, relaxed, at piece in a way they rarely did. He was a rabbit. He searched for escape routes, kept his surroundings under instinctive surveillance no matter what. How could he do such a one-eighty all of the sudden… It left Andrew.

Neil munched away peacefully until his phone started blaring. Neil declined the call then checked his messages.

"Kevin missed his delivery. They have the package at the post office." He said.

"Well good luck to him." Andrew shrugged.

"He wants me to pick it up." Neil continued, tapping away on his phone. "Its the suspicious powder for his shakes and he needs to work on his history paper today."

"So can't he just go tomorrow?"

"It's better for everyone involved if I go today." Neil said, leaning back against the fake leather seat. "Perfect for a run anyways."

"I won't run." Andrew said.

Neil's lips twitched and Andrew scolded himself quietly. He shouldn't push himself onto Neil so eagerly, especially not considering how hard it was to not pin the idiot to the nearest wall. Said menace didn't look surprised but likely didn't expect his answer either. He understood the meaning of it nonetheless, that much was clear.

He pushed away his empty ice cream cup and gestured to the waiter. Andrew pulled out his wallet but Neil already had the money in his hand, not giving a chance for him to pay. Andrew pushed it back inside his backpack's inner pocket, but still couldn't take his eyes off Neil.

"For not giving me diabetes." Neil said, then slid out of the booth and took off toward the entrance.

Andrew followed, catching up easily without having to pick up the pace. If he did it was only because Neil was the direct descendant of an ostrich. But he did not.

As Andrew opened the door for him, Neil stopped to look at him, his face inches away from his own and said, "Triple selection is a stupid name by the way. Sweet Sextet would have been better."

"I'll kick you down the stairs, Josten."

Neil's grin grew incredibly wide.

 

"Didn't you say you know this part of town, Josten?" Andrew asked after passing the third house that was left vacant in a state anywhere between renovation and demolition. In fact the whole street consisted of empty buildings, closed down businesses and the people they encountered seemed a bit out of their mind. This definitely wasn't the sunshine and love part of their hometown. Andrew felt like an axe-murderer would fit the image just fine.

Neil didn't seem to mind. Kevin's package was so big, he could barely reach around it, only holding the underside with his last knuckles. His gaze wondered from building to building, sometimes lingering on a more inhabitable one.

"I said I think I know." Neil replied, as if it would help their situation. "And I do, in fact. I just wanted to check out something."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. What business Neil could ever have here was beyond him, just as he didn't believe there was anything worthy of sightseeing. At this point it was clear — his attraction towards Neil, this torment inflicted by hormones and self-harm tendencies was indeed a test of how far he was willing to go. He wasn't even trying to get into the guy's pants anymore, so it was honestly just cruelty at this point.

"Check out a druggie or dumpster dive in a shop's decade old trash?" Andrew asked. A man got up on the other side of the road and started walking towards them. Andrew slid his fingers under his armband and picked up his speed. "We seem to have piqued someone's interest."

Neil turned back to look at the guy then waved to him with his free hand. Andrew watched as the man halted then walked back to his group.

"What the hell, Josten?" He muttered.

"I crashed here for a week or so." Neil shrugged. "I want to check out a house. It had some nice stuff I want to get."

Andrew knew Neil spent a year or so homeless after running away from home. However, he didn't know he squatted so close to them. A small deviation in the past could have led Neil to them much sooner.

The structure Neil stopped in front of was a lonely one. It had a small garden, overgrown with bushes and weeds. Despite it's obviously vacant state no damage was done to the building, windows all intact. It seemed like someone attempted to gentrify the sketchy neighborhood.

"Some investors wanted to turn the place into suburban territory. They forced the previous occupants out, built a bunch of boring ass houses for rich fucks hoping to win big. The catch? No one ended up wanting the homes though." Neil explained as he threw the package over the picket fence. "They didn't allow pets, decided on a mandatory color palette and later added scheduled gardeners which people had to pay for out of pocket. This house, they check up on every so often, but not on the other ones."

Andrew followed him, trying his best in his tight jeans and heavy boots. Scraping them would be a pricey mistake.

"Why bother with this one?" He asked Neil as he dusted the white paint chips off himself.

"The CEO's mother-in-law used to live here." Neil grinned.

The door was white, heavy wood with a an elegant knob. Neil crouched down and pulled out a small pen case looking thing from his backpack. Lock-pics. Andrew already had a hunch Neil was proficient. The rabbit seemed to dig a tunnel to any restricted area in their school.

The lock soon clicked and Neil opened the door. The house was dusty and full of bugs. Andrew's eidetic memory now stored at least ten kinds of insects he otherwise wouldn't have had the fortune to encounter. A long bodied gray worm that curled up at their approach, a brown one with quick legs… Yeah, he could have lived his life without this experience. One of them he recognized from the juvie's bathroom. Hah! They both knew which loose tile hid the cigarettes.

As they were making their way through the house Neil got himself tangled in a spider web and stumbled right into Andrew. He moved on instinct, wrapping an arm around Neil's waist. The alarm bells in his brain set off, ready to take control, to lash out, to fight back — except there was no danger. Neil didn't grab him, but stayed completely still. Andrew's panic settled slowly. Neil himself tensed for a moment then fully relaxed. Andrew's stomach did not flutter.

Neil looked over his shoulder, his nose almost touching Andrew's forehead, his scarred cheek sliding against Andrew's hair.

"Sorry." He said. "Any spiders on my face?"

Andrew stepped away from him, his fingers itching to hold onto Neil's shirt again. There was in fact a dead, silk covered cockroach nestled between his locks, but Andrew felt petty.

"None." He told him and pushed Neil forward.

The stairs creaked under their feet as they ascended to the first story. The walls were covered in woven textile and prints of famous paintings. The ceiling was crumbling and covered in mold, devoured by termites. All of them major health hazards in his book. Yet Neil didn't even bat an eye at the black stains. He led Andrew directly to the study, right next to a bathroom covered in limescale. Neil slipped inside.

The room was full of delicate porcelain statues and metal ornaments. A glass fox sat on one of the bookshelves, right in front of a textile bound copy of Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Mermaid. They were both pretty little things that deserved a better home then this. While the house was left with many belongings still in it, half of the furniture seemed to be ruined already. One would think someone with such a collection would care enough to take them. Andrew wasn't above theft and old books molded easily. He took both and stuffed them into his backpack, turning back only to see Neil move the carpet. A small key was under it. He took it then started emptying the lowest row of the bookshelf right next to him.

Behind the books hid a small safe. Neil used the key to open it. Andrew watched from above him, intrigued by whatever the fuck his rabbit was doing. Inside was a bundle of cash, and a letter knife. The knife was a unique piece, ornate with it's handle shaped like a dog's head and a hunting scene depicted on the blade.

Neil picked up the knife and considered it for a moment before turning to Andrew.

"Here." He said, offering him the knife. "Sorry for fucking with you."

Andrew squashed the tightness in his stomach. He took the knife. It had a nice balance and felt light in his hands. Quality craftsmanship.

"A dog." He wondered aloud, as he ran his fingertip down the hound's nose bridge.

"I found it when me and mom squatted here." Neil explained. "The grip is great and it would fit in your boot."

Andrew hummed. It would need a case if he didn't want his tendon cut by accident. Andrew looked at Neil, who held his gaze, but the cracks were starting to show. His body was tense under the weight of silence. There was no need. Andrew had to admit at this point that holding a gruge against Neil was simply impossible for him, therefore no need to appease either. He slid the knife into his armband, the grip just too long to fit properly. It felt pretty snug but Andrew still feared it might just slip anyway. He gave his arm a good shake to make sure the knife stayed put on their way home.

 

The sun was setting by the time they reached Neil's house. The clouds, rose tinted gray and heavy, promised rain. Streetlamps lit up with electric buzz and crisp flickers, Neil's auburn hair caught their yellow light. Andrew wanted to run his fingers between his locks. He knew better than to assume they were silky to the touch — Neil only started using moisturizer and cleanser when Kevin forced his hands, saving him from a decent amount of teenage breakouts. His conditioner was either twenty in one or nothing. A guy could dream. Except he really shouldn't. Oh well.

Neil turned towards him, propping the package's edge on his hips.

"Wanna come in?" He asked. "We have hot chocolate."

A little bumble bee buzzed to the wrong hive, it seemed.

"I'm not masochistic enough to spend my quiet evening with Kevin." He told Neil.

God save the Queen from witnessing mortals drinking hot chocolate.

"We can go up to my room and lock him out."

Andrew's guts churned. Neil likely didn't get the suggestive undertone of his offer. His fingers twitched, as if he could grab onto the words somehow. He should say no.

"Go, rabbit."

Neil grinned, victory bright on his soft lips. His blue eyes seemed so bright compared to their dim surroundings.

Inside the house Neil shrugged off his worn sweater and hanged it by the hood. He rushed to the kitchen, Andrew right on his heel. Kevin came down from upstairs with loud steps announcing his presence. He spared one look at them before pouncing on the box now sitting on the kitchen isle — he opened it with unmatched speed, and loaded the contents out on the counter.

Andrew watched as Neil rose on his tiptoes to grab the hot chocolate powder from the top shelf. Kevin's grimace was instant.

"You shouldn't drink that shit," he said reaching for the pockets of green dust labeled as seaweed powder. "I'll make you a shake."

"Yeah, no thanks." Neil said, slipping away from Kevin.

"I won't let you fuck up your chance to go pro with —!"

"We will be going up now, bye!" Neil said, mugs and milk in his hand.

He ran up the stairs and Andrew followed, as Kevin was still making his quips behind them. Andrew dodged a real bullet, praise Kevin's denseness.

Neil closed the door behind them and turned the key. Andrew decided to claim the gray beanbag — a safe territory, unlike the bed, which was the only other option really. Neil took his sweet time preparing their chocolates, mixing the powder and milk with the spoons. The hot part was thrown out the window when Kevin decided to open his mouth, and without it the cocoa wouldn't even thicken. For some reason Andrew found he didn't mind it half as much as he expected.

Andrew looked around, mapping out the room in his head. Neil was puritan in his decoration and his palette consisted of grays. Pictures littered the wall, of Kevin, their teammates and family vacations. On one of them he noticed himself in the background, between Jean and Kevin, lazing on the bleachers.

Neil handed him a mug and spoon. Their gaze met, and Andrew swallowed. Neil had a certain look on, one that Andrew only saw him give the court on days when practice got cancelled. Soft, expecting, but not ready to take a step towards whatever the hell it beheld at the moment. Which seemed to be Andrew this time.

They were still walking on eggshells around each other, Andrew reminded himself. He took it and took a sip. It was sweet, milk chocolate with just the perfect amount of creaminess to it. It coaxed a satisfied hum out of him.

Neil sat down on the ground propping his back against the bed. This way, their thighs were so close, Andrew could easily close the distance — exactly what he was not going to do. The contents of Neil's mug were considerably darker. The rabbit was prepared.

The storm started with loud thunder and fat raindrops, beating down on the roof. Textbook summer storm, with all of its charm. There went his chance to get home by himself. Neil didn't seem too mad about it, if anything he settled with a content look on his face. Yeah cause he's not the one who has to figure out how to get home without getting soaked, Andrew thought.

Greed ended up getting the best of him. Going along with Neil's whims resulted in them under a blanket in the living room, watching The devil wears Prada after numerous references flying over Neil's head. It seemed movie nights would be a thing from now on. Andrew didn't say anything when he pulled Neil's legs over his lap, tired of his constant squirming as he tried to curl up on his side, small enough to avoid contact. Andrew could have made more space for him — the couch still had plenty on his other side. Neil was too much of a pest to be worth the sacrifice.

Wymack looked at them from the kitchen isle. Next to him the electric cattle clicked, water bubbling loudly. He filled two mugs and let the filter soak.

"Will you need a ride home, Minyard?" He asked.

Whatever expression Neil gave him made the man tip his head back and sigh — Andrew tried to decipher the silent communication without much success. Neil settled back, his blue eyes once again lit by the TV's light. Wymack mumbled something under his breath before giving it another go.

"I can drive you home when you are finished or make the couch." He said. "Did you text Bee?"

"Aye Captain, my captain!" Andrew said, patting Neil's legs trough the blanket.

Their eyes met. He didn't need the whole dog imagery to stick, but if Neil wanted him to stay he could make the arrangements and Andrew might cooperate. Neil didn't back down, his gaze nothing but taking on the challenge.

"He can stay over." Neil said, not looking away.

"Minyard?" Wymack asked, giving him a final out.

"Sure."

Wymack discarded the filters and left them alone. Andrew tried to still the sudden hammering in his chest. So Neil wanted him to stay. Neil, who before the whole fiasco didn't show any interest in getting to know him. To be fair, Andrew was Kevin's friend and generally kept to himself. Still, why would Neil want Andrew here all of the sudden? Friends maybe, but he was awfully sticky.

"Am I getting kidnapped?" He asked Neil. "You forgot your villain monologue."

Okay, maybe that was coming on a bit too strong, but Neil was a plotter. His Love Witch mission was clear evidence.

Neil frowned. "When I got kidnapped no one asked me if I wanted to be, but my experience might be outdated. I wanted to spend some time together, but you are free to leave."

"We spent the whole day together and now you want me to sleep over too." Andrew pressed.

Neil averted his eyes.

"Because it started raining?" Neil huffed, visibly getting irritated. "I felt like offering, so I did."

Honestly, Andrew himself didn't know what answer he expected. Some kind of ulterior motive? No, he didn't, not at all. Confessing to a newfound attraction? That thought made him nauseous in his stomach. Whishing for it felt wrong, forceful even. He needed a smoke. Andrew pushed Neil's legs off, freeing himself. Neil didn't stop him.

When he came back the movie was close to the end. Neil rested his head on Abby's fluffy pillow.

"Do you need a ride home?" Neil asked, trying to wriggle out of his blanket cocoon.

"I thought I had a reservation."

Neil grinned. He escaped from his pupa and stretched.

"Do you wanna sleep on the couch or in my bed?"

Andrew's mind went blank for a second.

"Seventy percent, Josten."

"What?"

"I won't repeat myself."

Andrew's body moved on his own accord towards the stairs. It wasn't a wise choice, but Neil knew about his attraction, yet still offered. It must have meant he is comfortable with it. Neil followed, seemingly overjoyed with his decision. Andrew shut down any attempt of his brain overthinking it.

At the end it turned out surprisingly okay. They took turns in the shower. Andrew inspected his new blade while Neil was away. The dog head stared at him with it's round eyes and polished forehead, as if it's previous owner had petted it shiny. After his shower he came back to Neil fluffing up the pillows, rather aggressively, but it was effective so he found no reason to complain. Neil didn't move in his sleep. He lay with his back to Andrew, only his auburn puff of hair visible from under his weighted blanket. Andrew stared at it in silence before rolling on his other side. The alarm bells in his mind went crazy the moment he laid down, but he held hope they would die down. He might not know Neil as closely as he did Kevin or Aaron, but he seemed to know how to respect boundaries.

Andrew watched the tree in front of Neil's window sway, its leaves bobbing from the heavy rain. Then, against all odds he fell asleep.

Notes:

I might come back and edit this later. For now, let me know what you think and thank you for reading!