Chapter Text
If someone asked Neil what love was, he would have answered split lips and locked closet doors. His mother sending him up to his room when he was four, six, seven and allowing Neil to pretend he couldn’t hear the thuds and shouts coming from downstairs. A swift backhand when Neil back talked, because if Neil back talked in front of him the punishment would be much worse. A body wrapped so tightly around him at night it hurt.
Love was that feeling when you turned the lights off as a kid— that sickly feeling of being completely in the dark, but then comforted and surrounded and suffocated by it at the same time.
Love wasn’t whatever this whack job in a white coat with a gallon of gel in his hair was preaching about.
“Nathanial? Are you listening?”
“Neil,” he corrected automatically, for the third time. Idiot. “What?”
Dr. Barker stared at him, letting out a half-sigh. “I was trying to explain your lab results, Mr. Josten.”
“Yeah, I gathered that.”
Another sigh.
Maybe the doctor was waiting for Neil to acquiesce. Act more polite. They’d both be waiting for a long time. Neil didn’t even want to come to this appointment today, at Palmetto State University Clinic. He wouldn’t have, either, if it wasn’t for Kevin talking his ear off about it for the past two weeks. All because Neil was running out of breath faster at their rec league Exy games. It’s not like Neil hadn’t found it concerning, he just hadn’t thought about it at all. Neil would have suffered through Kevin’s consent blathering if it wasn’t for Andrew and those steady hazel eyes saying just go, rabbit.
So, here he was.
Hating them both, now.
“UAS is serious, Mr. Josten. You need to understand this diagnosis and the treatment options to—
“Remind me what it stands for again?” Neil cut in. If he was Andrew, with that memory, this wouldn’t have been an issue.
“Unrequited Atrophy Syndrome.” Dr. Barker cleared his throat, lifting a hand up to his hair before seeming to remember that he had glued it down. “It occurs when someone has an intense romantic bond to someone that is not returned. It causes cell degeneration, leading to a whole host of symptoms that—“
Neil tuned him out again. People talked entirely too much.
Andrew never talked too much.
If someone asked Neil what love was, his answer would have sounded a lot like violence. Hearing Dr. Barker talk about the deterioration of his body, the regiment of pills to keep him functioning until recovery, chills and aches, loss of appetite, chest pains, fatigue… Yeah, Neil thought, yeah, this makes sense.
This was a type of violence too, after all.
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Maybe Neil should have been more freaked out to learn that he had formed an intense romantic bond with Andrew Minyard and that it would slowly rot him, but he wasn’t. In a way, it made a lot of things fall into place.
Neil had met Andrew three weeks into his freshman year at Palmetto. Three weeks of going from class to class, running miles and miles around campus, studying in the library— alone. Maybe others would have been lonely, but for Neil it was like the escape from a haunted house at the end of a horror movie. He didn’t need anybody. He had noticed the goth kid hanging around the running track sometimes, reading, but Neil never gave him more than a cursory glance. He hated when people gawked at him, stared at him (teachers trying to figure out the strange bruises, grade school classmates making fun when he flinched) and so he usually left people to their own devices.
Goth boy, apparently, did not operate the same way.
“You know, if you run so much, people might think you’re running from something,” He called lazily from his spot on the bench as Neil ran past. He was laying with his back on the bleachers, one leg carelessly bent at the knee, with a book propped up in one hand.
Neil slowed.
“If you read big books like that, people might think you’re overcompensating for something.”
“Careful, rabbit. I bite.”
Neil had shrugged. “I’m pretty fast. You’d have to catch me first.”
Even from that first meeting, there had been— something. Some awareness in Neil’s chest, that there was something in Andrew’s eyes that called out to something in Neil’s own twisted soul. One year later, and Neil had more friends now (unfortunately, in the case with Kevin and Aaron) but Andrew still had always been… different.
And now Neil knew why.
It explained why he thought of the what the texture of Andrew’s hair would be all the time— soft, like liquid sunshine? Or a bit prickly, like bales of hay? Why he stared a little too long at those biceps and wondered if Andrew would be able to pick him up. Why he felt he could stare into Andrew’s eyes for hours and still discover new colors he had never seen before. His fascination with Andrew’s pale skin and his strange desire to always make sure the grumpy goth was putting on enough sunscreen.
Unrequited Atrophy Syndrome.
It was so in line with Neil’s luck, he could only laugh. Such a rare disease, and yet here he was. Never experienced romantic attraction in his life, and the one time he does— it kills. Literally.
Neil was supposed to tell Andrew. That’s what Dr. Barker recommended.
“We can start a medication treatment, but UAS never fully goes away except in cases where the feelings are returned, or you are able to move on to someone else. Sometimes, letting the individual know can help you start the process of moving on—“
Yeah, right.
Like Neil was going to put this on Andrew. The blonde could put on the heartless act all he wanted, but Neil knew better. This was the man who put in years of work to recover from that sick ass foster home that tried to break him. Who protected his twin from an abusive mom and his cousin from homophobic assholes. Andrew acted like he hated Exy, but still came to every one of their rec league games— even before Neil had joined.
If Neil told him… it made him sick to even think that Andrew might feel pressured to do something. To help. No. Other people had hurt Andrew throughout his life, had let him down— but never Neil. Never. Those symptoms Dr. Barker had described… Neil had been through much, much worse.
Loving Andrew was a different type of pain, and that was okay with Neil.
He would be fine.
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“I told you to ditch the hat, rabbit.”
Neil glanced over at Andrew as they walked up to the club and rolled his eyes. “I like the hat.”
“As we’ve established, you also like having no fashion sense.” This was delivered with Andrew’s usual neutral expression and Neil grinned.
“Let the record show, I agree with him.” Allison threw back from over her shoulder. “You could be so hot, Josten, if you’d just let yourself be.”
Neil shrugged.
“Hopeless,” Andrew said.
Neil had come back from his doctor’s appointment to everyone getting ready to go out to Eden’s. It wasn’t someplace he had ever wanted to go, before Andrew introduced him to his group. To be honest, Neil still barely wanted to go. But no one ever wanted to stay back with him and watch Exy reruns— not even Kevin, who liked getting shitfaced too much— and so Neil let himself be dragged along. He didn’t mind, anyway. He wasn’t used to having friends, and so he was fine letting them show him what friends were supposed to do. It had worked for the past year, so far.
They entered the club, a routine down by now. Allison, Renee, and Matt would go secure a table. Kevin and Aaron would go to the bathroom because Kevin always pregamed too hard and had the bladder of a field mouse. Neil and Andrew took care of the drinks.
They pushed through the crowd, and Neil used his slightly taller frame to block Andrew’s body.
“You’re annoying,” Andrew said over the music, glaring.
Neil shrugged again. He did it every time. He would keep doing it every time, unless Andrew told him to stop. He never did.
They shoved up to the bar and managed to snag two stools. Andrew stared at him.
“Do I have something on my face?”
“Just your annoying habit of avoidance,” Andrew replied. The lights played blue purple pink across his pale features, making him glow. “You never told us what the doctor said.”
Neil avoided the question earlier when Kevin asked because he could lie to everyone else, but not to Andrew. Not when he was there in the room. There were plenty of things Neil… failed to say, sure. But he never lied.
“Not important.”
“Josten.” Andrew’s fingers twitched. “Tell me.”
“Tell me,” Andrew said, drumming his fingers on the table. It was their third time studying together. Neil wasn’t sure how they had gone from talking occasionally by the bleachers as he ran to studying, but it was mostly to do with Andrew saying flatly I study at six at the library on Wednesdays and Neil figured that meant he should show up. “Where’s that scar on your eyebrow from?”
Neil stilled.
“Oh?” Andrew’s eyes gleamed. “Sore subject, rabbit?”
Neil scowled. “Are you so bored with your essay that you’re bothering me now?”
“Yes. Now answer the question.”
“No.”
“What if I answer one of yours?” Andrew asked, voice bland but eyes bright. “Truth for a truth.”
Neil brushed away the memory.
“Pass,” he said instead.
Andrew tilted his head to side, studying him intently, before turning away and flagging down the bartender. It was something they both respected, even if they used it rarely. Neil wondered if he should feel bad— all the things Andrew had shared with him, and everything Neil was still keeping hidden away— before he brushed that thought away too. He shouldn’t feel bad. Andrew was… different. He didn’t need all of Neil’s problems taking up space in his brain, when he had his own shit to deal with.
Andrew ordered their drinks, taking a sip out of Neil’s coke before sliding it towards him while they waited on the rest of them. Neil wrapped his hand loosely around the glass, feeling the condensation wet on his palm.
“That hat is an abomination.”
Neil took it off his head and plopped it on Andrew’s.
“You’ll wish for death once I’m done with you.”
“Worth it,” Neil winked.
Andrew glanced away, jaw clenched. Neil thought about smoothing away the tension in that jaw with his thumb, and then felt a pulse of pain through his chest. Because that’s what UAS was. A punishment, for wanting more than he could have with Andrew. For thinking of Andrew in that way, without his consent.
“Tell me, rabbit.” Andrew looked back at him, his voice a drawl. “Surviving on an abandoned island, what are you bringing?”
“How many items do I get?”
Andrew tilted his head. His piercings glinted in the light— one right below his lower lip, a bar through his eyebrow, multiple in his ears. When he spoke, Neil could also make out the ball right in the center of his tongue. Now he had an answer for why he always wondered what that piercing might feel like against his skin. UAS.
“Three.”
“Water purifier. Magnifying glass. You.”
Andrew’s hand curled into a fist on the counter.
“Me.” He said flatly.
“Yeah.” Neil lifted a shoulder. “You’ve read at least a thousand books. You’ll be able to recite them all back to me.”
Andrew scoffed, but Neil could tell he was pleased. Andrew always tried to hide it, but Neil had become an expert at reading him this past year. It was all in the subtlety. The slight twitches at the corners of Andrew’s full mouth. The minute movements of his thick eyebrows, slashed low over his eyes. His hands spoke a lot for him, too.
Neil liked this about Andrew— the questions he asked, the dry way he had of speaking, the bluntness. Before Andrew… it wasn’t that Neil hadn’t thought. But he hadn’t ever really wondered. About what he would do in a zombie apocalypse, or how he would survive a horror movie, or what he would take to an abandoned island. Neil lived by numbers, he lost himself in them, so that he didn’t have to be in his body or with his thoughts or in his reality. With Andrew, he didn’t have any fear of that. How could Neil not have developed a strong romantic connection, for someone who had changed him so completely, so irrevocably?
“I hate you,” Andrew said.
“Percent?”
It was their old call and response. For the first three months of their friendship, Neil had thought Andrew actually meant it.
“97%.”
“I’m three down,” Neil said with a grin. “I call that a good night.”
Andrew opened his mouth, but before he could respond they were interrupted by another voice.
“My favorite customers!"
They both turned, and now Neil had an explanation for this strange twisting in his stomach. UAS. Because there Roland was, behind the bar, and Neil could see out of the corner of his eye the way Andrew’s eyes were dragging over the bartender’s body.
“What’s up, cuties?” Roland leaned forward on his crossed arms, smiling wide. His gaze cut to Andrew. “I get off in five, handsome.”
Andrew tipped his head in acknowledgement.
“You know…” Roland glanced at Neil. “The offer of a threesome is always—“
“No.” Andrew’s voice was hard and final.
Roland shrugged, smiling still, because he was still going to get what he wanted. Andrew. He would get to know what Andrew’s hair felt like underneath his fingertips, and how strong those hands were, and if Andrew’s eyes were as intent and focused during as—
He would get that.
Neil wouldn’t.
It was fine.
The other bartender dropped off their drinks, and Neil slid off his stool.
“I can bring these to the rest.” Andrew made a move to get up too, and Neil waved him off. “I got it, Drew. See you tomorrow, yeah?”
Andrew’s lips twitched downward briefly, for reasons Neil didn’t know, before his expression evened out again. “Tomorrow, rabbit. Don’t be late.”
“I’m late once, and you never let me forget it.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t decided to run in the rain and twist your ankle like an idiot, you wouldn’t have been late.”
Neil rolled his eyes, electing not to respond.
He made his way to the table with his other friends, ignoring their complaints of what took so long? He also ignored their questions about where Andrew went. It wasn’t their business. Honestly, Neil wished it wasn’t his.
He spent the rest of the night ignoring the fact that the reason he had come to Eden’s wasn’t by his side any longer.