Chapter Text
Andrew is thinking about the Jostens. He's been thinking about them all week, all month, all summer since they arrived, really, despite his best efforts not to. It's highly irritating, just like they are. He's already determined they're not a threat. He knows their spooky little backstory, or at least enough of it. And yet the two of them keep grabbing his attention and running away with it.
First there's whatever is going on with Eli and Aaron. Eli is obviously into Aaron, which is horrifying, but at least Aaron seems oblivious to that fact. Andrew was a bit concerned at first with how much the two of them were getting along, but Aaron seems to have cooled off towards Eli. Andrew wonders if his brother finally caught onto Eli's interest and is trying to subtly shut him out, but Aaron isn't really big on subtlety so it seems unlikely.
Then there’s the weird shit that happened at the game on Friday, where Eli seemed to be acting like he actually was Neil Josten, even without the cameras watching. Andrew isn't sure what to expect in their next games, and he doesn't like uncertainty. It's a mystery that he intends to solve one way or another.
And the final, biggest problem is Neil himself. Andrew, much as he hates himself for it, can't stop looking at Neil. Worse, he can't stop wanting him. Neil is the prettiest thing Andrew has ever seen, and Andrew wants him in his mouth and in his bed, but he can't have that, so Neil is just taking up all the space in his head instead. Andrew would rather claw his fucking eyes out than see Neil running around the court in his little tight shorts ever again, but it wouldn't even matter because the image is already burned into his retinas.
That last problem is not one that's going to be solved so easily, but Andrew can at least get to work figuring out the mystery from the game. He waits for an afternoon when he knows Matt and Neil have classes, then heads over to Eli's dorm and picks the lock to let himself in.
-
Eli is making no headway with Aaron. Even after the gift of Red Bull, Aaron ignores him unless he has to give a terse, polite reply. Eli, ridiculously, finds himself feeling hurt. This does not stop him from subtly giving Aaron more gifts.
Little things, mostly. An extra bottle of water Eli kept on hand for practice, so Aaron didn't have to run out and refill his. A pen that writes super smooth that Eli stole from a classmate. A bag of sour gummy candy he'd overheard Nicky mention Aaron liking, that he'd opened and claimed weren't to his taste so would Aaron take them off his hands so he didn't have to feel guilty about wasting food?
Stuff like that. Things with plausible deniability, because giving Aaron something outright made him feel unaccountably nervous.
None of it matters, though, because Aaron is still pissed at him and Eli doesn't know why.
He's moping in the bedroom over this, staring up at the ceiling, when the door opens. For half a second Eli sees blond hair and thinks his thoughts may have summoned Aaron, but sadly it is the lesser of the Minyard twins.
"What do you want?" Eli asks grumpily. "I'm busy."
-
Andrew flattens a look at Eli, who hasn't even gotten out of bed. "You look it," Andrew says. "I'm sure it takes all your brainpower to focus on staring at the ceiling."
-
"You'd know," Eli replies, but his heart isn't really in it.
Heaving a morose sigh, he pushes himself up so he's sitting.
"Okay, so what's got you breaking and entering this time?" he asks.
-
"I'm trying to figure out if you're a liar, or if there's something else wrong with you," Andrew says thoughtfully. He snaps his fingers at Eli. "The game. Friday. I thought you hated Exy. Were you lying about that?"
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Eli stares, trying to work out Andrew's logic, but comes up empty.
"I do hate Exy," he says.
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"No one is that good at acting," Andrew says. "You were playing like you meant it. Like Neil plays. And after, in the locker room, you were acting like him too, not wanting to change out with the rest of us."
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"Yeah, 'cause I was Neil," Eli says. He still doesn't get why this conversation meant Andrew had to break into his dorm. Again.
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Andrew's jaw tightens at Eli giving him that tone, like Andrew is being stupid. He steps closer to Eli, glaring up at him in his bunk. "You were being Neil Josten for the purposes of the game and the cameras. There was no reason to act like him once it was just the team."
-
It clicks, suddenly, and Eli laughs.
"God, you're annoying," he says. He drops down to the floor. "You're always so busy reading between the lines you don't understand the words on the page."
Andrew glares at him. Eli rolls his eyes.
"Did I say I was 'being Neil?'" he even does air quotes with his fingers to get across Andrew's sheer stupidity.
-
Andrew fist twitches at his side and he holds himself back from grabbing Eli by the throat and wringing his neck. The condescending, lying little shit. "You said you were Neil. I fail to see how a slight difference in wording changes anything.”
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"That's because you're an idiot," Eli says. He sighs, running his hand through his hair and wondering how to explain this to someone who has no frame of reference for it.
"You know, you've never met Abram?" he says after a moment's contemplation. Then he corrects himself, "Well, maybe once, at the studio."
-
Andrew stares. He wonders if the stress of running for his life has gotten to Eli and he's finally cracked. Or maybe it's Andrew who's losing his mind and he's hallucinating this entire conversation. "What the fuck are you talking about."
-
"Ugh," Eli tells him, disgusted by his stubborn idiocy.
"Look, me and Abram don't just 'switch places,' and we don't just wander around acting out Neil Josten like it's a role in a play," he says. "I don't know what the fuck else to tell you."
-
Andrew's patience is hanging on by a thread. "You don't just switch places? That is exactly what you have been doing. I've seen it. Start making sense before I am forced to beat it into you."
-
Eli is going to throttle him, he doesn't give a shit if Abram will give him sad eyes when the Foxes are disqualified.
"How much clearer can I be?" he demands. He takes a deep breath. "Fuck, okay. I don't know if you even can understand this."
Andrew looks unimpressed and Eli waves a hand dismissively.
"That one wasn't actually a shot at your intelligence." He pauses. "Moron."
Another calming breath.
"So when you switch places with Aaron, you're still you, you're just acting," Eli tries to explain. "That's not how it works with Neil. There is no you. There is no acting."
-
Andrew bites his tongue and listens, ignoring the pounding anger in his temples to try and make sense of Eli's words.
"There is no you," Andrew repeats, turning it over in his head. "You believe you can literally become your brother, with everything that entails." He stares at Eli for a long moment and begins to laugh. "Oh. You are insane. That is interesting."
-
Andrew's laugh is not nearly as nice as his brother's. For a moment Eli recalls hearing Aaron's laugh travelling across the court when he'd knocked Kevin on his ass, and the memory is enough to stop him from decking Andrew in the face.
"I told you you couldn't understand it," he says, sneering. "Ask Neil. Ask Abram, if you can find him. We'll all tell you the same thing."
-
Andrew pretends to wipe tears of laughter from his eyes. "Oh, I understand. And I believe you."
It actually makes a sick kind of sense. Andrew's a little disappointed in himself for taking so long to put it all together. The way Eli and Neil were raised, being forced to shift identities all the time, it must have fundamentally broken something in them. Never being allowed to know who you really are, unable to stay in one place long enough to figure it out. Andrew can’t truly fathom what it was like for them, but he thinks he understands enough.
"I know Coach likes to recruit people who are fucked in the head. I'm just surprised he finally found someone even crazier than me. I didn't think it was possible, but here you are. A man with no sense of self." Andrew hums, amused. "No wonder you don't care whether you live or die. All you know how to do is either be Neil, or protect him."
-
Eli pulls his lips back in the mockery of a grin.
"I know exactly who I am," he says. "And I know how to keep my brother safe without making him hate me. Too bad you can't say the same."
-
Andrew's amusement drops in a blink and he moves forward before he can even think about it, shoving his forearm into Eli's chest and pushing him up against the wall. His knife presses under Eli's chin, their faces only a few inches apart.
"Say that to me again," Andrew dares him. He keeps his tone light and pleasant, but he can feel his body shaking with barely contained rage.
-
Eli's smile is knocked off his face as he's knocked into a wall, but he pulls it back on when he feels the sharp edge of a blade pressing into his skin. Andrew is pissed, and the surge of adrenaline makes Eli giddy.
"You think I didn't want to kill Mary every time she slapped Abram around?" he laughs. "You can't kill someone's mother and expect forgiveness and gratitude, you stupid fuck."
-
Andrew's pulse is roaring in his ears. "Shut up," he snaps. "Shut the fuck up!"
He wants nothing more than to carve Eli's shit-eating grin off his face, but he can't. He made a deal to protect Eli, and killing him would unfortunately violate that agreement.
So Andrew does the next best thing and crashes his mouth into Eli's instead. The knife falls and hits the carpet, forgotten.
-
Eli expects to have his throat slit. Maybe, if he's lucky, he'll be stabbed somewhere Abram can stitch up once he's back from class.
He does not expect Andrew Minyard to kiss him.
Kissing is better than stabbing, though, and Andrew is hot, and Eli has all this energy bubbling underneath his skin, so it takes hardly a second before he's kissing back.
-
Andrew presses a biting kiss into Eli's mouth, hating him and wanting him in equal amounts. It's better than he expected and Eli kisses him back with just as much force.
After a few seconds, Andrew pulls back, panting, and wipes at his mouth. "Is this okay," he grits out, needing to know before things go any farther.
-
Andrew pulls back and it's only his arm still pinning Eli to the wall that stops him chasing after his parting mouth. When his words sink in, Eli stares incredulously.
"God you are stupid," he says. "Yes, it's okay. For fuck’s sake."
He reaches out to grab Andrew's shirt in his fist.
"Now shut the fuck up," he says.
-
Andrew's skin crawls when Eli reaches out to grab him, and his hand shoots out, locking around Eli's wrist tightly enough to bruise.
"I have rules," he warns Eli. "Rule one, you don't touch me." He pauses to make sure that one sinks in. "Rule two, if you don't want something, you tell me no. Do you understand?"
-
Eli raises an eyebrow, feeling the bones of his wrist creak under Andrew's grip.
"I understand. Jackass," he says, yanking his hand back. "But if I gotta follow your rules, you're gonna follow mine. If you don't like something, use your fucking words. No knives. And stop fucking grabbing me."
-
Andrew's jaw clicks with annoyance. "Fine."
He kicks his knife across the room. The other one is still in its sheath, and he's got several others stashed in various places on his person, but he won't use them. Not during this, at least. He raises his eyebrows at Eli, waiting for him to put his hands out of sight.
-
Eli rolls his eyes. Like he believes for a second that Andrew doesn't have more knives on him. Still, he shoves his hands behind his back and raises his eyebrows pointedly.
-
Andrew leans a hand against the wall and shoves his mouth forcefully into Eli's again. It's still an angry kiss, nothing gentle about it, but it's a controlled anger this time instead of explosive rage.
-
Fucking finally. Eli bites down on Andrew's lip and shoves his tongue in his mouth, keeping his arms firmly behind his back. A low groan builds in his throat.
Part of him wonders if Aaron would kiss like this. Not that Eli will ever get a chance to find out, since Aaron is indifferent to him at best. Still, the two of them are identical, so maybe hooking up with Andrew just this once will get whatever this is with Aaron out of his system.
-
The kiss tastes like relief, something to scratch the itch that's been building in Andrew for weeks. Eli isn't Neil, no matter what he says, but he's hot and he kisses back like he's been craving this as badly as Andrew, and that's more than enough.
Satisfied that Eli is keeping his hands to himself, Andrew moves in closer. He threads his fingers into Eli's hair and tightens his grip, swallowing the groan it pulls out of Eli, then moves his other hand down and tugs at Eli’s waistband in silent question.
-
Unfair that Andrew gets to tug his hair and feel him up but Eli can't do the same to him. He's not able to voice this, however, because Andrew's fingers dip into his waistband and give it a quick tug.
Eli pulls back enough to pant out, "Yeah," and then licks his way back into Andrew's mouth.
-
Andrew slides Eli's sweatpants and underwear down his hips. He breaks the kiss to look down as he takes Eli in his hand, feeling the satisfying weight of him. Andrew wonders if Neil’s dick is identical to Eli’s before he slams that thought away and wraps his fingers firmly around Eli. His knuckles brush against Eli's balls and he licks his lips.
Eli's scars are extensive even down here. There's a big patch of scraped skin on his waist that continues down over his hip, as well as the same menagerie of knife cuts that litter the rest of his torso. A second bullet scar sits lower on his thigh. Andrew glances over these marks impassively as he jerks Eli to full hardness. Andrew is getting hard too, which is expected but still irritating.
"Can I blow you, yes or no?”
-
Eli leans his head back, bumping against the wall as Andrew strokes his cock. Not the most comfortable since it's dry, but with his next words Andrew proves to be willing to fix that.
"Fuck," Eli says. "Yeah. Condom?"
Eli always carries one around with him because. Well. But he doesn't have one just hanging out in the pocket of his sweatpants. He'll have to dig it out of his jeans.
-
Andrew pauses his stroking. "Don't have any," he says. He never bothers with condoms since he's never willingly gone further than oral with anybody.
In high school, after his first sex ed class, Andrew had quietly called a health clinic and gotten himself tested. He needed to know whether his abusers had ruined him that completely. But somehow the results had come back negative on all counts, so as long as Roland hasn't caught chlamydia lately or something— "I should be clean."
-
Andrew stops moving his hand and Eli bucks his hips once to try to get it moving again, but then he stills.
"Top drawer of the dresser," Eli says, nodding his head to the dresser in question where he keeps his stash of condoms. He has to keep Abram safe, which means he can't risk dropping dead from an STD. He doesn't care how sure Andrew is.
-
Andrew steps away and opens the dresser drawer, then grabs the box and fishes out a little square packet. He rips the packet open and stares at the loose condom, suddenly realizing he's never actually put one of these on someone before. Eli's hands are still behind his back, so Andrew attempts to put it on for him. On the first try, the condom won't unroll and Andrew frowns. He flips it over and this time it rolls all the way down, snugly fitting over him.
Andrew palms Eli’s rubber-covered dick, giving it a few experimental jerks. He’s not thrilled with the texture, but he supposes it'll have to do.
-
Andrew knows what to do with the condom but only in theory, it seems. Eli bites his lip and lets him figure it out without laughing at him, but it's a close thing. A very small part of him is even mildly endeared, but he squashes that down mercilessly.
Finally the show is back on the road. Andrew doesn't look too pleased about the condom, but he doesn't say shit, which is good.
-
Andrew drops down to his knees and sets a hand on Eli's hip, holding him still against the wall. He takes Eli in his other hand and licks up the side of him. The condom tastes like shit but Andrew doesn't bother showing his reaction. If this is what Eli wants, Andrew can deal with it.
He feeds Eli's dick into his mouth, getting acclimated to the feeling of it. Then he begins to move more purposefully, bobbing his head up and down, swallowing Eli to the root. Andrew is dimly aware of his own aching need, straining in his jeans, but it's easy enough to tune out if he focuses instead on the stretch in his throat and the weight of a hard cock on his tongue.
-
Eli tosses his head back, eyes closing to better feel the warmth of Andrew's mouth around him, tongue stroking up the underside of his cock. Jesus Christ. The breath is punched out of him as Andrew takes him to the base and swallows. He can't hold back the moan he lets out.
Forcing his eyes open, he looks down, trying to burn the sight into his brain of Andrew on his knees, lips stretched wide around him, brows furrowed and eyes focused. He doesn't even try to lie to himself that he isn't going to be using the image later, pretending it's Aaron.
Andrew's hand presses firm against his hip, pinning him to the wall, but it isn't necessary. Eli likes to consider himself a very good blowjob recipient; no thrusting into someone's mouth unless it's requested.
"Fuck, you're good at this," he breathes out.
-
Andrew knows this already, but it never hurts to hear. He hums smugly, enjoying the way the vibration makes Eli's thighs tense.
Eli doesn't seem inclined to start facefucking him, but Andrew keeps holding his hips down just to be sure. He watches Eli's face contort in pleasure and takes in all the noises he's making, trying and utterly failing to avoid picturing Neil having the same reactions. It helps Andrew stop thinking about it when he starts to really deepthroat Eli in earnest, letting the back of his head go a little fuzzy as he focuses in on his single-minded task.
-
Andrew seems to take Eli’s praise as some sort of challenge, speeding up and taking him to the base on each pass. The feel of his cock pushing into the tight clench of Andrew's throat is incredible. He's panting, mouth slack, hands clutching at forearms behind his back.
"God fucking—" he feels the muscles in his thighs twitching, his chest heaving.
"Close," he chokes out.
-
Andrew is buzzing with satisfaction at the reactions he's able to draw out of Eli. It's perhaps his favorite part of this, aside from the simple appreciation of the way a cock feels in his hand or his mouth. He doesn't slow down, keeping his eyes open even though they're beginning to water so that he can watch Eli's face when it happens.
-
Eli’s orgasm crashes over him like a wave, pleasure shooting through him head to toe. His eyes flutter shut as he spills, his quiet gasp a counterpoint to how loud he's been until now. Andrew keeps swallowing around him until Eli opens his eyes, pupils blown wide and gaze glassy.
Andrew is watching him with a smug aura, and Eli is too fucked-out to even be annoyed.
"You want help with that?" he asks, nodding to the obvious bulge in Andrew's jeans. "Promise no hands."
Andrew might be against some face-fucking, but Eli isn't.
-
Eli's expression when he cums is unbelievably fucking hot. Andrew's eyes dart around his face, hungry for every detail, cataloguing flushed cheeks, wet lips and eyes scrunched closed which, once opened, are dilated like Eli's flying high on some drug.
When Eli's finished, Andrew eases back, eyeing the condom tip filled with spunk. What a waste. Eli offers to blow him but Andrew shuts him down with a quick "No," not bothering to tempt himself by considering it. He knows himself well enough by now to be certain it wouldn't go well. He can't go back to the dorm like this, though, not with Nicky and Kevin around, so he stands up, knees sore and dick uncomfortably stiff, and goes into Eli's bathroom to take care of the problem.
-
Andrew says no and Eli raises an eyebrow, reaching down to pull off the condom. He ties it off and throws it in the trash, then pulls his pants up. Andrew heads to the bathroom, leaving Eli feeling a bit robbed. What, he doesn't even get to watch? Rude.
Whatever, though. If Andrew doesn't want to experience one of his truly stellar blowjobs that's his business. He goes to the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle out of the fridge and downing half of it. He thinks for a moment, then sighs and gets one out for Andrew, too. He tosses it to him when Andrew finishes in the bathroom.
-
Andrew shoves his hand down his pants as soon as he's locked the door, and the sudden pressure on his hard, aching dick nearly makes him double over. He yanks his boxers down and jerks himself quick and dirty, closing his eyes to replay the memory of Eli's orgasm. He’s helpless to stop himself from imagining it as Neil, and the thought has him tipping over the edge, cupping a hand around himself to catch his release. Pleasure and shame wash over him in equal amounts as his body wrings itself apart in a terrifying moment of helplessness.
Afterward he washes his hands and tucks himself away, then takes a deep breath. The familiar fear and disgusted guilt are prickling at the back of his neck and threatening to drag him under. He breathes in and out, staring at himself in the mirror. He's safe. No one touched him. He only did what he wanted to do. He didn't hurt anyone. After a few more breaths, the creeping feeling begins to pass. This, too, is normal and expected.
As Andrew leaves the bathroom, a water bottle comes flying at his face and he snatches it out of the air automatically. He cuts his eyes over to Eli, who's standing in the kitchen drinking his own water. Andrew twists open the cap and chugs the water, then crumples the bottle and tosses it on the counter as he turns to leave.
-
"Hey, asshole," Eli calls out. He waits until Andrew turns around to pick up the knife he'd rescued from his room, waving it lazily. "Forgetting something?"
Andrew rolls his eyes but walks back over, reaching to take the knife from Eli.
Eli grins, holding the knife just out of Andrew's reach, and flips it in the air a few times. His mood has successfully been boosted, and taunting Andrew seems like a great way to celebrate this.
Andrew does not agree, going by the look on his face. Eli laughs, delighted.
"Is this a one-off or a regular thing?" he asks, flipping the knife again.
-
Andrew tracks the movements with his eyes as Eli twirls his knife between deft fingers. His irritation makes way for interest.
"You know how to use a knife," he observes in lieu of giving an answer.
-
Eli pauses, then smirks and adds a bit of flair to what he's doing, showing off.
"What gave it away?" he asks.
-
Andrew imagines socking Eli in the face. "Your condoms taste like shit. Buy flavored ones next time."
He holds his hand out for the knife.
-
Eli grins, handing over the knife.
"Buy them yourself, jackass," he says brightly.
-
Andrew slides the knife into his armband and turns away. He leaves Eli's front door wide open, because it's what a jackass would do, and goes up to the roof to continue working on his slow death via lung cancer.