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Assistant: Title: coming down
        Author: kitschykody minikitschy 
        Chapter: 1/1 
        Summary: Neil rolls his eyes and shrugs again.  “Should I look into it?”Andrew turns his face so Neil can’t see. “I’m not going to stop you.”--a little andriel for #10daysto1k!!! 7/10
        Contents: Summary:
            
              Neil rolls his eyes and shrugs again.  “Should I look into it?”Andrew turns his face so Neil can’t see. “I’m not going to stop you.”--a little andriel for #10daysto1k!!! 7/10
            
        

        
  Notes:

    



        In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the 10 Days To 1K
          collection.
        
    

    
      
  Prompt:
 moonlight(picks up directly after more than you can chew enjoy!)
    

    
        (See the end of the work for more notes.)
    



  





    
        
          
   His heart hammers in his chest, Andrew’s hands hovering over his skin, hesitant to touch him in a way that he almost never is.  Neil presses the side of his face into Andrew’s stomach, wanting that connection, wanting, deeper, to know he hasn’t f@ck@d all of this up.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders if this is how Andrew feels sometimes, handicapped by trauma he hadn’t seen coming.  

  Neil doesn’t remember much of his time at the Nest.  He’d thought that was probably a good thing, to have only taken with him the drills and Jean’s rough but solid hands on him. Now he’s not so sure.  He doesn’t know what happened on that bed he’d remembered, and he doesn’t want to know now.  

  Andrew seems to have realized what was happening, and his hand grips the back of Neil’s neck firmly, holding onto him in the way Neil can’t bring himself to hold onto Andrew, curled in on himself like he is.  He tunes back in to Andrew’s solid voice.  

  “...in Columbia.  You’re in our bed, it’s… 8pm.” Andrew is intoning, describing the room and where Neil really is.  He moves, finally, and Andrew’s grip immediately relaxes, letting Neil’s movement shift his hand from the back of his neck to gently cup his jaw.  When Neil looks up at him, the only real light is the moonlight from the window on his skin.  It’s bright, it must be a full moon, and it turns Andrew’s light hair silvery, his pale skin stark against the darkness of the rest of the room.  

  And Neil can breathe again.  
 
  “I didn’t think…”

  “I know,” Andrew reassures him.  

  “You had a good idea about the rope.” 

  “Did I?”

  “It’s not the rope.  It’s the…” Neil searches for a word that doesn’t connect this to when he holds himself back for Andrew’s benefit.  “The outside restraint, I think.  I’m not holding myself back, and I can’t…” 

  Andrew’s thumb rubs at his cheek, and Neil blinks in surprise at the tear that has leaked down his cheek.  

  “We won’t try that again.” 

  “...Okay.” Neil whispers and finally moves his hands from where he’d been hiding them, pulling on Andrew’s biceps to bring him closer.  Andrew presses a firm kiss to Neil’s forehead, and with Neil’s insistence, crawls over him to his side of the bed.  There they stay, two parentheses, until the moonlight fades to dawn.  

  Its two days later, when a piece of uncooked pasta hits Neil in the temple, pulling him out of his own head.  Andrew’s the apparent culprit, as he pours the rest of the box into the boiling water nonchalantly.  Neil waits, watching, until Andrew decides to speak his mind.  

  “You’re winning the pouting competition over there.” he remarks wryly, meeting Neil’s gaze as he shakes the cheese powder packet.  

  “I’m not pouting.” 

  “Lying won’t disqualify you from that trophy.”

  Neil rolls his eyes, and looks back down, unseeing, at the textbook in his lap.  His lower back hurts, and this couch isn’t helping, and neither is the required history elective when his walking audiobook is on the court without him.  Not that he’d rather be listening to Kevin talk about history when he and Andrew are still soaking up their last hours in Columbia before heading back tonight.  It’s just better than reading it himself.  

  Andrew apparently doesn’t find anything else to throw at him, but Neil hears his socked feet on the floor when he approaches, and a hand weaves into his hair, scratching and soothing for a second before it’s turned against him so Andrew can see him.  

  “You know that this isn’t required, don’t you, junkie?” he clarifies, and Neil thinks about feigning innocence for a moment before he sighs, leaning more into Andrew’s hand.  

  “I’m the one who brought it up, and wanted to try, and you wanted it and I–”

  “Couldn’t.” Andrew finishes for him.  “And you don’t need to.” 

  “I still feel…” like I let you down.  Like I failed.  Like–

  Andrew’s hand in his head shakes him, like he can shake all of those feelings out of his head.  

  “You can still make it up to me, never fret.”'
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