Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Neil had managed to stay with the Foxes all the way until Halloween so far. He wasn’t entirely certain how much time left he would be afforded, but for now, he could ensure his impact would last even after he ultimately had to run. That meant making sure Andrew’s group and the upperclassmen could rebuild the bridge that had been burned long before Neil even attended Palmetto State.

Neil managed to convince Andrew to invite the upperclassmen along to their Halloween plans.

Naturally, the upperclassmen followed suit, leaving the entire team of foxes to sit amongst one another in the downstairs of Eden’s twilight. The team had just arrived in two separate cars from Sweetie’s, where Andrew’s group collected their regular stack of crackers.

And for once, it seemed they were all speaking amicably. Perhaps in part due to Andrew’s consistent leaving to the bar, but Neil would take his wins where he could get them. Soon after the few participants dumped their cracker dust into their drinks—excluding Neil, Renee, and Matt, who’d abstained—most of the combined group left to go dancing. Andrew left once more to drop off the emptied cups he’d collected, as well, leaving only Renee, Neil, and Kevin.

Neil, for some inexplicable reason, still felt marginally uncomfortable in Renee’s presence. It wasn’t as though he were so socially inept to bother inputting himself in her casual conversation with Kevin; he merely felt more comfortable nodding along.

Alas, just as Renee had promised upon finishing her soda, she left Neil and Kevin to join the rest of their party on the dancefloor, politely excusing herself.

Kevin’s attention was directed somewhere particular, and Neil didn't need to guess where his gaze was located. In an aloof French, Neil quipped, “Distracted?”

Kevin reacted as though he’d been insulted, tilting his head with a pointed frown to face Neil. Eyebrows drawn together, Kevin replied in turn, “Whatever is there to be distracted by? We’re in a club, if you weren’t aware. A rather distracting setting itself.”

Neil hummed, nodding his head in a pointedly unobvious manner toward the bar. Andrew seemed to be speaking with Roland, the group’s favorite bartender at Eden’s. “I’d ask you the same thing, but I know.”

With a slight narrowing of his eyes, Kevin turned away, chin in his palm as he leaned against the table. “You’re insufferable. What do you want?”

A slight shrug. Neil rarely wanted anything more than safety, more than shelter. Now, however, he found that he wanted answers. A secret. “You like Andrew.” He commented bluntly.

“That wasn’t an answer, nor a question,” Kevin huffed wryly. “I’ll ask you again, what are you aiming at?”

“A confirmation, preferably.”

Kevin finally directed his scrutinizing gaze at Neil once more. “I can’t give you one.”

“I thought so,” Neil commented slowly, as though calming a wounded animal. “That’s alright, I know. How does Andrew feel, then?”

Kevin rolled his eyes upward, seeking patience. “You’re asking a lot of questions. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“So, he knows?” Neil asked blandly.

Kevin sighed, pressing his hand against his face in a sweeping motion. “I’m not entirely sure he doesn’t. Regardless, there’s nothing for us. Andrew doesn’t want anything.”

Neil repeated Kevin’s words slowly, quietly, “Us.”

Only then did Kevin give him a curious look. “No?” Kevin guessed.

Neil wasn’t entirely sure what Kevin was guessing. He merely frowned and wondered at Kevin’s own expression. Hadn’t seen it on Kevin’s face before—watching Neil as though he were clueless—when it wasn’t being met with a snide comment.

“You. Me. We feel the same way, do we not? I assumed that was the reason for you asking.”

Neil blinked, startled. “No.” He denied, as though only now registering Kevin’s prior question.

“Hm.” Kevin hummed, tilting his head slightly before seemingly dropping it, returning to distantly gazing elsewhere.

Neil paused, eyeing Kevin in silent question, even as he’d turned away. His reaction to what he assumed to be the truth was curious. Would he not be upset if Neil truly did have feelings for Andrew? Perhaps Kevin’s feelings for Andrew weren’t very deep, then—though Neil doubted it. It seemed Neil wasn’t as knowledgeable on this subject as he’d like to be.

“You wouldn’t be bothered,” Neil said blankly, a statement more than a question.

Kevin shrugged. Neil amended silently that all his deliberation might be for naught; Kevin was an alcoholic, after all. Who knew what his sober mind might feel.

“What reason is there to be? Andrew doesn’t want me. I don’t see why I’d attend to a jealousy routine if someone happens to feel the same way as I do toward him.”

Neil felt that made sense, after all, Kevin had been honest. “There’s nothing for us, you said.”

Kevin hummed in agreement. “I’d advise you to move on. I still don’t believe you feel nothing toward him.”

“He’s irritating. Deranged, likely. I can’t understand him.” Neil insisted, even now.

Kevin tilted his head; Neil shook his own.

Neil had always felt a certain sense of curiosity toward Kevin. There was never any need to determine the parameter for which he felt this or apply an additional descriptor to it. Not when it could so easily be interpreted as apprehension, of animosity, of admiration.

Either this new additive of feeling was just that: an addition, one alongside Neil’s preexisting view of Kevin, or it existed, still, within that realm of curiosity, only newly recognized.

“Why Andrew?” Neil asked, perhaps in an attempt to dissuade the conversation from his own feelings. He wasn’t particularly interested in the answer—it could easily be assumed, via Andrew’s obvious protectiveness and care toward Kevin, if expressed every inch in the fashion of Andrew’s typical instability.

“It’s a difficult concept to explain whilst you’re feeling it, and even more incomprehensible to understand when you’re not.” Kevin replied lazily, chin lifted above his palm, tilting his head to Neil, “Though, I suppose the latter isn’t quite applicable.”

Neil grew frustrated, eyes narrowing. “I’m not interested in Andrew.”

Kevin, in turn, merely rolled his eyes. “Tell me why, then, you’re so interested in this subject? If not for Andrew?”

Silently, Neil mused that he couldn’t exactly explain why to himself, either. “It’s important to understand the dynamics of your team—”

“Hush,” Kevin huffed, and once more, Neil was reminded of the former’s haughtiness. Gripping Neil’s chin in his hand, Kevin leveled it to his own, tilting it upward ever so slightly. “You’re so difficult.”

Neil was anxious to be held in place as such, but he knew—realistically—Kevin wasn’t a threat, outside of his inclination to be unbearable.

“How are you so sure he doesn’t want you?”

“Andrew, Andrew, Andrew,” Kevin murmured. “And yet you refuse to—”

“You’re confused.”

“Oh? Then tell me what this is all about: your interrogation of sorts.” Kevin hummed, amused aside from his growing exasperation.

“I told you,” Neil, once more, could hardly finish his words before Kevin continued to pester him with what would otherwise have been admirable persistence.

“You’re unremarkable at lying, despite building a character out of being a liar.”

To an extent, Neil realized this, at least, as recent: budding. Kevin’s understanding felt overwhelming, if exhausting. He felt a desire to comply with Kevin's words, if only to see a resolution.

“Didn’t you say you didn’t feel the need to attend to a jealousy routine?”

“This isn’t jealousy,” Kevin replied blandly.

Neil understood he wasn’t well-informed on the facets of emotion and feeling. Particularly in this category, per his lack of experience and—ultimately—care. Regardless, wouldn’t Kevin’s insistence on hearing Neil recognize his supposed feelings toward Andrew fall under this category? Kevin wasn’t the sort to mindlessly indulge in gossip. Neil could merely frown his confusion toward Kevin.

“This isn’t jealousy,” Kevin repeated once more—applying some unfamiliar intonation toward his words. “I’m interested.”

Neil wasn’t sure how to interpret Kevin’s words. He was nothing if not straightforward, and yet. Kevin’s admission made Neil feel a little numb, uncertain.

Watching for Neil’s reaction, Kevin seemed amused. For all Neil knew, his words could just as easily be inconsequential as they could be a ploy—though he wasn’t a liar.

“What does that mean?” Neil asked blankly.

Kevin tilted his head, letting Neil’s chin go as though ensuring he wasn’t controlling him any longer. Neil’s continued correspondence would now only be under his own volition. He wasn’t certain yet whether he was grateful or not.

“I never said I wasn’t a jealous person, Neil. Only just that Andrew isn’t one to be jealous over. He wants for nothing and certainly wants for no one. You, however,” Kevin tapped the table. “Are different. Maybe my insistence on you admitting your feelings for Andrew is a jealousy act, but not over him.”

Neil blinked, digesting his words as though a physical presence. “Over me.”

Kevin nodded, watching steadily for Neil’s response. Neil, however, felt as though he were being pulled into the deeper end of a pool—forcefully dragged away from the blissful ignorance in the shallow end. Entirely unprepared for this.

“Take with my words what you will.” Kevin shrugged, as though unperturbed one way or another.

Neil couldn’t even begin to decipher what this meant in terms of everything else. Kevin still wanted Andrew, though it seemed he wanted Neil enough to make it known, as well. How did this sort of thing occur, Neil couldn’t help but wonder. It was perhaps a fluke, but Neil wasn’t quite known for being an omen of luck anyway.

What he did know of himself, however, was that he wanted this. Wanted to give in to Kevin’s mindless suggestion—this fluke.

“I want this,” Neil admitted, beside himself.

Kevin poked his tongue out at the side of his cheek, suggesting they find an appropriate location for Neil’s words to come to fruition.

Chapter Text

Neil was not meant to be a permanent figure in the lives of others: he has never had a set identity on his own. It is perhaps why he accepted this arrangement for what it was: temporary, meaningless, a distraction. There was no need to wonder how long this would all last: it was comforting to be unfounded.

Kevin and Neil were a tangled mess of equally complicated individuals. Kevin, for his part, was neither a characteristically generous nor emotionally adept person. As for Neil, he was readily adaptable to the rigid boundaries of their relationship—if it could even be considered as such—and had little need, or observable desire, for much else. Neil told Kevin to take his game, and he'd yet to ask for it back, or for anything in exchange. So long as Neil wasn't owed anything, he wouldn't seek any more than what was allotted to him.

More so than any other constraints to the relationship that was Kevin and Neil, the issue, of sorts, with Andrew was undeniably prevalent. Regardless of the fact that Kevin argued he didn’t care whether Andrew reciprocated or otherwise, that Neil had yet to even reconcile with the fact he felt anything at all for him—the matter still stood that Andrew posed a difficulty in either of the two’s willingness to fully commit to the other.

Neil knew his presence, his role in Kevin’s life as it stood, was only due to the absence of Andrew in such a position. He’d been a substitution of sorts for who Kevin truly craved. Kevin and Andrew were effectively obsessed with one another: all-consuming, encompassing desire. An active bystander, Neil was fine with what were the leftovers of their infuriating passion. With Neil’s aptitude to accept what is offered, to want for nothing more, even this arrangement was sufficient. Kevin would effectively pretend, through years of experience with the press, as though Neil were indeed the object—sole object—of his desires. Neil, then, would pretend as though he weren’t stationed in a war of minds; Neil could pretend as best he could that Kevin’s detachment was only customary, and that neither of them still found “Andrew” littered at the corners of their minds.

It was no surprise when Andrew began to take note of this circumstance between the two. He was hardly ever seen outside of a close range in distance from Kevin, and Neil by extension. Typically characterized by antagonism and violence, Neil and Kevin’s ever-prevalent tension took a different form of ardor that was unfortunately apparent following Halloween night: especially to Andrew. Thinly disguised by a layer of genuine protectiveness, Andrew was evidently disturbed at the notion of them—and it only took him so long to crack. Before Neil knew it, he and Andrew had an appointment scheduled with Betsy Dobson.

Settling down on one of the mildly uncomfortable chairs which characterize Betsy’s office, whether made uncomfortable by the quality of furniture or the manner of it being the office of a psychiatrist, Neil sent a sidelong glance to Andrew.

“You must worry about me a lot, having me meet your shrink and all.”

Andrew only met his snark with an unamused expression, flicking it back toward Betsy as though to signal his exasperation and garner some semblance of understanding through her.

“Makes me wonder how much you discuss Kevin, too. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Neil continued, ignoring Andrew’s blatant annoyance.

Betsy looked between the two with a curious glint in her eyes, “It’s nice to meet you, Neil,” she cut in, lying through her teeth. Neil could almost appreciate it, if only he didn’t have such a distaste for her sort.

“That’s a new one for you, I’m sure.” Andrew deadpanned, humming sarcastically to Neil.

Betsy, seemingly going back on her wise decision to retract commentary on whatever it was she observed, spoke, “You’re quite similar, you two.”

“Sure we are.” Neil agreed with nearly dangerous amusement, face otherwise blank. Gesturing between the two, he agreed, “He’s the one Kevin wants, but I’m the one Kevin’s sleeping with.”

Naturally, Andrew could barely withhold his emotive reaction: just barely spilling the cup of cocoa Betsy had handed him upon arrival over his fingers.

“Of course, we started that back on Halloween. But you knew that, didn’t you?” Neil continued, dismissing Andrew’s already telling reaction. Without his drugs acting as a defense of which Andrew’s personality could hide behind, he—nearly endearingly, though Neil allowed easily for this thought to slip past his mind—wasn’t able to wholly obstruct his emotions.

Andrew, managing to stiffly contain himself, shrugged as though bored, “Someone had to do it.”
Andrew’s care for Betsy was evident in the way that he so adamantly denied speaking about anything that veered along the line of being a sensitive topic: something clearly attributable to Betsy's watching eye rather than Neil's own.
Betsy straightened her posture, a brisk correction that didn’t go unnoticed by Neil. He wondered briefly if Andrew had reason to be wary of Betsy. As he tracked his gaze back to Betsy, a polite smile across her otherwise admittedly kind demeanor, he disregarded that thought. Andrew was known to be paranoid, after all.

“Kevin Day, then.” Betsy spoke calmly, tilting her head. Neil wasn’t quite sure where she intended such a topic to go with Andrew as her client.

Andrew shook his head. “Ignore him. He has no idea what he’s talking about.”

“No, I really do. You brought me here for a reason, didn’t you?” Neil retorted, postured casually. “Why is that?”

“You’re a threat to the team. Society as a whole, really, but that’s a conversation for another day.”

Neil observed him coolly, “Threat to Kevin, is that it?”

“Did I ever exclude or specify anyone to you, Neil?” Andrew answered easily, though Neil was unwilling to be dissuaded.

Betsy decided it was time for her to interject once more, “Is it that you’re both involved with Kevin Day, and that’s the issue here?” Her gaze was directed solely at Andrew as she posed this question.

“Neil is the only issue here. You’re entertaining his delusions, and I’m not going to discuss this.” Andrew stated plainly.

Betsy seemed to accept this, and Neil knew then that there was no getting around Andrew’s decision—at least insofar as Betsy was present. He was curious as to what made her so necessary that Andrew wouldn’t risk the potential of her discomfort. Regardless, Neil was determined now more than ever to have this discussion with Andrew—now that he’d announced so simply the arrangement between him and Kevin. He’d questioned Kevin countless times as to whether Andrew was aware of Kevin’s feelings, and with them out in the open now, Andrew couldn’t simply ignore it—especially in the face of Neil, he was sure.

As tradition of these particular sessions with Betsy, whichever two players were carted off would return together—per whatever transportation method possible. Despite Andrew’s insistence on keeping a distance from Neil, now more so than ever, he remained the only one between them to have a car. Leaving Betsy’s office, Andrew walked farther ahead of Neil—delineating his desire to spend as little time as possible with who he deemed a threat.

Regardless, they both entered the car for a brief moment of silence as they adjusted. That was, of course, until Neil started, “You know that Kevin wants you.”

Andrew mused, “Oh, but it’s an endless cycle.” He spoke in the manner of divulging confidential information, characteristic of his theatric disposition. “Kevin can only ever love Exy, and Riko by extension. Riko can only ever love Exy—as is the same for you. Bee already mentioned similarity, didn’t she?”

“I’m nothing like Riko.” Neil gritted out, a semblance of an ache filling his chest.

Andrew tilted his chin, his finger resting on it. “You’re deluding yourself. Do you truly believe either of us could be anything but a stand-in for Riko?”

Neil felt nauseous, and in a behavior unusual to either of the two, fell silent. “What are you so afraid of?” Neil finally spoke. Andrew’s attention drifted shallowly from the road to him. “You want each other.”

“He has you, doesn’t he? Afraid you’re not enough to keep him?”

Neil shook his head. “Being a stand-in isn’t a new thought, just that it’s not Riko he wants. You know that, though. You’re afraid—that’s why you’re saying this all.”

“I can’t understand why he wants you.” Andrew scoffed, leaving Neil to believe Andrew had ignored what he’d said after all.

Was it not obvious how passionately Kevin desired Andrew? Andrew must truly be a coward, after all. That was fine, Neil thought selfishly. So long as Andrew remained illusioned about Kevin’s true feelings, Neil could remain by Kevin’s side for as long as possible. He may well be a stand-in for who Kevin truly desired, but Neil would easily accept whatever he could get from this arrangement.