over my head

❝ i hope you live a life you're proud of, and if you find that you're not, i hope you have the strength to start over. ❞ — F. Scott Fitzgerald ● ● ● ● ● ● ● neel avery. #28. striker. palmetto state university.

[averyneel-blog1]

basilwalcott‌:

LOCATION: Fox Tower Parking Lot DATE: January 27th TIME: 3:05 PM OPEN

         For once, Basil was glad to be back on Palmetto’s soil. Coming back to South Carolina as part of the only champions left, felt oddly satisfying. He knew that he wasn’t the only reason the Foxes made it to where they did in the Championships, but he knew that he played a small part in it. Basil didn’t know how to feel about the Foxes anymore. There was a small part of him that wanted the Foxes to win, not just because he was part of them but because it was what all of them deserved. Though there was still a disconnect from the team, his unwillingness—or maybe it was his inability—to be close to them. He didn’t want to be the reason the Foxes lost because he didn’t think he could take that kind of blow to his ego. He knew that no matter what he did, there was no changing the past. He couldn’t reverse time, as much as he wanted to. But then again… maybe he didn’t want to reverse time. Basil grew up believing that his father did care about him. Anthony just had a weird way of showing his love for Basil; now that he knew it wasn’t true, he was almost glad the man was out of his life. It had led him to something that wasn’t perfect, but it was worth it. He wasn’t ready to say how much the Foxes were beginning to mean to him. Basil wasn’t ready to admit that he cared to anyone yet. He just couldn’t deny that the Foxes had led him to his mother and to an actual friend.

         He hadn’t slept in this morning, despite getting back to campus late. Basil had woken up early enough to get a run in before running some drills on court. He figured the usual people were awake when he was—and it was true. Some of the Foxes were more dedicated than others. Not that he cared what other people did in their spare time, but Basil was in the same camp as the Foxes that spent any spare time on court practicing. He still had a lot to learn and he wanted to learn from the fifth years before they graduated. The freshman was about to head back to his dorm to start on any last-minute homework that he put off because he hated doing homework when his phone rang. Usually, Basil didn’t carry his cell phone around, or if he did it wasn’t charged, but since he met his mother over break, he’d been bringing it along in case she called and needed something. Basil didn’t recognize the number, though he picked it up anyway. After a quick conversation, his pace quickened to Fox Tower’s parking lot. He might not show much emotion, but he was smiling now. There in the parking lot was his Christmas present from his mother—and it was beautiful. He stopped at the car, signing for it, and jumped as his phone rang again.

         “Mother, hello! Mind if I call you back later?” he asked and listened as she spoke for about a minute before saying her goodbye. “Alright, goodbye.” Grinning, he turned to the nearest person in the parking lot. “Isn’t she beautiful?” 

As much as he loves Palmetto, and the South, Neel’s about sick and tired of the cold. Sure, it’s not anywhere as near as rough as the winters in Chicago but at least there they had snow. They always got to enjoy a few days of ‘winter wonderland’ fun before everything was turned to muddy slush by the snow plows and salt machines. Here it’s just... cold. With nothing to show for it (except maybe the occasional patch of dangerous black ice). Dry, painful, lung-searing cold. 

As he winds down his late-afternoon run, he pants a few choice curses, watching his breath crystalize in the air in front of him. 

He moved to the south to be warm, dammit. Spring, life, greenery, warmth. 

By the time he slows to a stop in the tower parking lot, he’s heaving for air, caught in the highly uncomfortable state between too-warm and too-cold. His back is slicked with sweat and his face is wind-chapped and red, but his fingers are numb and his lips are tinged blue. 

He’s not even aware someone’s speaking to him until he’s missed most of the entire sentence. 

“Huh?” He finally straightens from where he’d been sucking in air (doubled over, hands on knees) and immediately spies the car in question. It’s kind of hard to miss after all.

“Uh,” he clears his throat, “yeah. Yeah, it’s something man. Though... you know it’s like, freezing right?” He points out helpfully. “So, maybe save the whole ‘top down’ thing for summer?”

[averyneel-blog1]

caseyhxndrix‌:

The way Neel hesitates, the weight of each word he struggles to find feels palpable, it makes them smile softly, fondly. It’s endearing, how words can fail when there’s just so much to say.

“You make it feel like just being me is actually something worthy of that. It’s a new feeling,” they say softly, hand moving up to brush fingers over his jawline.

It feels a little unreal, when they actually take the time to think about it, that they somehow managed to fall into this so perfectly. It makes it feel like fate, that moment a few years ago when he stopped them in the empty hallway of the stadium, when he seemed to see them so clearly, when everyone else who knew them refused to. It feels like every moment was leading up to that meeting, and then every moment in between was so that they would meet again on the couch at that first party in the Vixen’s Den.

In a way, it makes it feel like it’s all okay, in the end, all of the mistakes, all of the failures, all of the pain, it’s okay because it’s lead them right here, to this moment, where for once they feel like being themself is not just enough, but good. 

They want to make him feel like that, too, they hope they do. Because he deserves it more than any other person they’ve had the pleasure of meeting, not just because of what he’s done for them, but because of how genuinely good he is, as inadequate a word that feels. What they’re thinking, at their core, is that he deserves everything in this world that he wants, and more.

When he takes their hand, they squeeze back, trying to convey that they feel the same way, even without words. Neel moves back into their space, burying his head against their chest, where it fits so perfectly, and they wrap their arms around him, holding on tight.

“I know the feeling well,” they whisper, letting their eyes close briefly, savoring the closeness. “It’s kind of overwhelming, to feel so much for someone, but, like, in a good way. In a better way than anything else. Haven’t really felt like this before, if I’m being real.”

“Me too,” he admits quietly, voice muffled against Casey’s shirt. 

All of this is new to him. The intimacy. The trust. The affection - freely given and received. It’s nothing like he’s ever experienced in his life, platonically or otherwise. 

His relationship with his parents, had, in more ways than one, set him up to fail. They’d taught him distrust was natural - a hallmark of any relationship. That manipulation and guilt and resentment were all just things that came with any bond and, if he couldn’t handle that, then maybe he wasn’t cut out to be close to people. Maybe he wasn’t built to be loved.

And, as much as he knows it’s bullshit, sometimes even now he finds himself wondering if he deserves this. If he deserves Casey and their dimples. Their strong, careful hands and kind, empathetic heart. Sometimes he really does wonder if his parents were right: that relationships aren’t supposed to be easy. To make you feel good. Sometimes he lies awake at night, wondering how to keep something so simple, so right.

That’s why he’s afraid to say it, out loud. 

Because, as soon as he admits it, there’s nothing to stop anyone from taking it away. And at this point, he’s not sure he could handle losing this. 

He gives Casey’s hand another squeeze and let’s out a sigh. “I know this is probably going to be really anti-climatic after that whole kiss thing but... do you still want to nap? Because I, for one, would really love a nap. And maybe some cheese sticks, at some point but. You know. Those can wait. I’m not going to get greedy.”

[averyneel-blog1]

girlgoddessmars‌:

“Oh,” Mars says, feigning casual as she zeroes in on that particular admission. It’s not the information that’s surprising but the source. Neel Avery doesn’t strike Mars as the type to kiss and tell, much less get topped and tell. Everything Neel Avery does that isn’t Exy related seems carefully calculated to make him as boring as unnoticeable as possible. He shrinks under her attention and shrinks even further as they walk across campus followed by the gazes of a dozen or so people.

It’s a shame because beneath the bad hair and worse clothing Neel Avery really is beautiful. He’s got the kind of face that could get him noticed in a very good way if only he knew what to do with it. That potential clearly wasn’t lost on Casey Hendrix. 

“Do tell,” she says as demurely as possible, pushing open the door to her chosen cafe. The place she’s chosen isn’t too far off-campus. It’s the kind of place that’s not afraid to be pretentious about how in to coffee all the employees are, with nothing but single-origin organic roasts and minimalist art of beans everywhere. The coffee here is expensive but it’s worth the money and highly caffeinated. 

Mars keeps a firm grip on Neel’s arm, sure he might run away if she lets go. She saunters to the front with a sharp smile. “What do you want hun? My treat since I dragged you here.”

The coffee shop is, predictably, busy - but not overwhelming. It’s blissfully warm and smells like baking bread and he breathes a sigh of relief, flexing life back into his frozen fingers. 

He gets only a brief moment to soak in the atmosphere before Mars is steering him towards the front counter. “Oh, uh. You know,” he hedges, belatedly realizing his mistake at alluding to he and Casey’s private life with someone as sharp and calculating as her. “They’re just... more decisive than I am? About certain things?”

Unwittingly, his mind strays to the first night they’d slept together. Casey’s gentle, firm commands. The thrill of acquiescing control - of giving himself over to strong, capable hands and a hot, talented tongue. Of letting someone take care of him, for once, wholly and fully.

He shivers, despite the lingering chill.

He doubts he could ever share that with someone else. Ever be able to put into words what it means to him. 

He clears his throat, grateful for the distraction that ordering their drinks presents. When Mars offers to pay, he doesn’t even argue: at this point, he thinks he knows better. “A medium caramel macchiato?” Something he’s not sure many people know about him is his penchant for sweets. He usually denies himself the indulgence, but tonight, he figures he’s earned it. 

[raph-peruggia]

OPEN STARTER

[averyneel-blog1]

raph-peruggia‌:

Neel Avery chokes on nothing. Michael Cheng looks concerned and Raph watches completely underwhelmed. He should never have attacked Neel Avery but it makes him feel all the worse that the man is so bizarrely fragile. He looks as if he’s just been struck in the chest by absolutely nothing. Raph might have killed him on accident in that stairwell. He is lucky to be alive.

“Ah buddy,” Michael Cheng says with a nervous smile. “Not everyone uh, likes having their uhm…personal relationships talked about like that when they first meet someone new.”

“I don’t know any other pertinent facts about Neel Avery. You told me it is good to say positive, interesting things about people when introducing them. Pick one or the other,” Raph says with a shrug, glancing at the other man to make sure that he hasn’t spontaneously collapsed while they were speaking. 

He supposes there are more positive things about Neel Avery than his association with Casey Hendrix. There must be.

“He is also a good striker?” He says after a moment, and it’s clear that he’s waiting for Michael Cheng to approve. 

“Good work buddy!!” Mike says before returning his attention to Neel Avery. “It was! Oh my goodness, I was on the edge of my seat!!” He says an all pretense of him being a responsible adult falls away. This is the Michael Cheng that Raph knows dearly. A fool who is easily excited, who loves Exy more than anything. “That goal you made was razor-sharp dude!”

Neel watches the oddly paternal exchange with mild uncertainty, still not quite sure how to handle Raph when he’s not scowling on the court and/or attempting to beat the shit out of him in an abandoned stairwell.

For all the shit between them, though, he doesn’t think Raph is like....irredeemable. He’s made mistakes, that much is clear from his current collection of penalty cards, but he’s a good player with excellent instincts. He’s just lost. Odd and out of place and struggling to figure out where he stands.

Altogether, they’re probably more similar than Neel would like to admit. 

Cheng turns back to address him and it’s like being tossed into the center of the sun. He’s bright and enthusiastic and kind, and having his full attention is both flattering and overwhelming, all at once. Neel toys with the zipper of his duffel bag, fidgeting in the face of genuine praise - something he definitely doesn’t have much experience with. His own parents had only ever complimented him when he’d done something that benefitted them in some way. Their encouragement was always hollow: a poor imitation of familial pride.

“Thank you,” he replies after a moment’s hesitation, ducking his head. “I’ve been practicing. Well, I mean. That’s obvious. We’ve all been practicing.” He winces. “I mean, I’ve been practicing that, specifically. A shot for shoot outs. I’m just glad I didn’t put too much force on the backspin.” He shrugs, finally meeting Cheng’s gaze with a small smile. “It really was hell of a game.”

[averyneel-blog1]

caseyhxndrix‌:

It’s wild how even just seeing Neel can make everything feel a little bit easier, like the air is suddenly clearer, easier to breathe. His hand on their hip, thumb rubbing circles over the spot, makes everything else feel far, far away, distant worries.

He says that it doesn’t matter anymore, and, god, he’s right about that. How can any of those trivial worries matter when they’ve got something so perfect right here between them. 

Maybe, a few years ago, this sort of feeling would’ve scared them, maybe, then, they would’ve been terrified to feel that vulnerable around someone else, that one person could have such an effect on them just by existing, and giving them a bit of that existence. But now? Now it’s a comfort, especially with everything else so damn hard.

They just smile at him for a second, the happiness coming so easily now that they’re near him, and don’t have to worry about the rest of the world. There’s a word for what this feels like, a word they hadn’t ever really attached to another person like they would to Neel now, and it’s just there on the tip of their tongue. 

And they don’t want to be presumptuous, but it feels a lot like looking back at Neel, into his eyes, that he feels something like that, too.

It’s a surprise when Neel’s suddenly kissing them again before anything else can be said, this time hungrier, full of a need they know just as well themself. There’s a lot in the kiss, unspoken words full of meaning that tell them just how much this all means to Neel. Their back against the doorframe, Neel’s lips on theirs, for a moment everything feels so easy. One hand grips Neel’s arm tighter, as if to keep him there, the other goes to his neck, pulling him closer all the same, enjoying the sensation of being known.

Casey’s pretty sure they could stay like that for hours, without ever needing anything else, but eventually Neel pulls back just a little, and, of all things, apologizes, which makes a laugh bubble from Casey’s lips.

“Sorry? I should be thanking you for a kiss like that. Like, holy shit, Neel, thank fuck you wanted to do that,” they laugh, a little dazed from the kiss, from wanting more. “What’d I do to deserve a kiss like that?”

Neel smiles softly and rubs the back of his neck, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He fights the urge to press the pad of his thumb against his bottom lip, where the phantom weight of Casey’s mouth still lingers.

“You...” He hesitates, heart constricting in his chest as it speeds up, urging him in an endless litany to say it, say it, say it. “You’re just... you.” And, God if that’s not the most mediocre, inadequate thing he could have said, right now. 

He’s being a coward. He knows it. But, fuck, he’s scared. Even though he knows, somehow, that he shouldn’t be. That it’s okay. That Casey.... Casey feels the same way. He knows, because he’s seen it - in the way their grin goes a little crooked when they catch sight of him on campus. The way their whole body sags in to meet his when they hug. The way they touch him, quiet and reverent - so intently that it hurts.

He knows he shouldn’t be afraid-

but that’s not how fear works.

It doesn’t cow to logic or facts, evidence or reason. It creeps and it gnaws. It slips through every crack and it feeds. On his doubt. His insecurity. His vulnerabilities.

It chokes him, when all he wants is to speak.

“I just... wanted to show you,” he manages after a moment, reaching out to grip Casey’s hand, “how I feel.” He pauses, unconsciously tightening his hold, before stepping back into Casey’s space. He presses his forehead against their chest and breathes. “It’s a lot,” he whispers. “How I feel.”

[averyneel-blog1]

girlgoddessmars‌:

So maybe she came on a little strong. Who can blame her when Neel is just so fun to fluster? Mars watches with a rising sense of satisfaction as he flushes and splutters and attempts to stare at anything but her. 

It’s becoming evident to her that Neel Avery probably can’t handle her. He’s already a mess from just a few minutes of mild flirting in the elevator. If she ever came down on him full force she’s pretty sure he would snap in half like a toothpick under a brick. 

That being said. She’s curious to see how far he’ll bend before he all out breaks. 

He practically spills out onto the ground floor when the doors open. Mars slinks out after him. She feels on top of the world. She looks great. She’s got a pretty boy to tease. And good coffee is in her not so distant future. What more could a girl ask for? 

“Thank you, sweety. You don’t look so bad yourself. Those Foxes must keep you busy. Well, one fox, in particular, I’m sure.” She moves to step ahead of him. “Follow me to the best coffee in the state, honey.”  The “if you dare” is only implied but Mars is sure that he can hear it in the tone of her voice. She knows he is afraid of her. Overwhelmed by her. She wants him to know that she knows. She wants him to know that she likes it.

Neel’s cheeks heat at the implication but he manages a small, knowing smile as he ducks his head, hiking his bag.

“Uh. Yeah. You know how they are. Very...demanding.”

He’s barely got the words out before she’s sliding out in front of him, clutching onto his arm and hauling him along like he’s nothing more than a sack of potatoes. Which, in this instance, is honestly fairly accurate. She glides through the active thoroughfare like she’s the only person with a right to be there, while he follows quietly in her wake - plain and unassuming.

They must make an odd pair, because more than a few heads turn their way as they blaze a trail toward this “heavenly” coffee shop she promised him. He’s not used to the scrutiny. Because, even with the Foxes recent success and slow building momentum, he’s not what anyone would call popular. Never has been. He flies under the radar, even on his own team, and he likes it that way. He doesn’t want the spotlight - the press interviews and the ridiculous, invasive questions and the never ending media training. He just wants to smack a ball into a net and do it well. And that’s it.

So having people stare at him when he’s not on the court with a racquet in his hand is...odd. To say the least.

By the time they reach their destination, the tips of his fingers are frozen numb and he’s ready to be back inside.

[raph-peruggia]

OPEN STARTER

[averyneel-blog1]

raph-peruggia‌:

He doesn’t want Neel Avery to be here. As he approaches, Raph looks as if he’s preparing to defend against an attack. Since Raph’s assault on Avery in September, a tenuous peace has grown between them but it is paper-thin. He does not doubt that his attack is the first thing that Neel Avery thinks about when he looks at Raph. Normally, Raph would be fine with that. He has no illusions about the type of person he is and the violence he is capable of and he does not have the time or inclination to concern himself with the minutiae of Neel Avery’s feelings towards him. 

But he does care about what Michael Cheng thinks of him. The man has seen the violence that Raph can inflict on the court. He’s accepted it. But he does not suspect that Raph is someone willing to turn that aggression on his own teammate. He believes that Raph has the potential to be a good person and because of that he cares for him, he stays in his life, he offers him a place in his home when there is nowhere else for him to go. 

Neel Avery could change that at any second. 

Raph is aware that the fault lies with him. He is aware that he will have to shoulder the consequences of his actions without complaint, no matter what they are. 

But he does not want to see the moment that Michael Cheng realizes that he is not a good person. He does not want to watch another person he cares about give up on him. He sticks his hands inside of his pockets so that neither Neel Avery nor Michael Cheng can see them ball into fists, his fingernails digging sharp into the flesh of his palm. 

“Well, I promised Raph that I’d make it out to any game within a days drive!” Michael cheng. “And I’m sure there were plenty of people watching on TV that were cheering you all on." 

He glances at Raph. "Gonna introduce me to your friend?” He asks, stepping back a little so that there is a clear space between Raph and Neel Avery. 

“We are not friends,” Raph says, staring at him. “This is Neel Avery. He is a striker. He is romantically involved with Casey Hendrix. I do not know anything else about him.”

Neel chokes. 

Leave it to Raph to make things even fucking weirder. Grimacing, he rubs his chest and blinks moisture out of his eyes, feeling the creeping, undeniable vestibules of slimy panic work their way up his spine.

He does not want to be here. He does not want to be discussing his love life with some random dude he’s only just met and the kid who beat the shit out of him a couple of months ago.

He wants to go home. Or take a hot bath. Or melt into the floor and never, ever have to talk to anyone ever again. 

But he’s an adult. A fucking grown adult. He can handle this. Because as shitty as Raph has been to him in the past, it’s not like he’s holding a grudge (anymore). He doesn’t know who this man is, but, seeing as he’s never witnessed Raph so much as text another living human being, he’s gotta be important somehow. And, if that’s the case, Raph is probably just as uncomfortable with this situation as Neel is, given their history.

And Neel... Well. He knows what it feels like to crave the approval of someone that you hope has your best interests at heart. 

So he swallows down his frustration and merely shoots Raph a harried look before turning his attention back to the older man. “Uh, right. Not that it’s like, super relevant to the current conversation, but, yeah? I do date Casey. They’re um. Very talented.” He clears his throat. “Anyway. I hope you enjoyed the game? It was a little closer than we wanted it to be, but I guess that’s probably pretty entertaining from the stands.”

[suspend]

You can give without loving, but you can never love without giving.

Victor Hugo, Les Misérables (via suspend)

[raph-peruggia]

OPEN STARTER

[averyneel-blog1]

raph-peruggia‌:

Time: post-game Date: January 18th Status: Open

He knows that Michael Cheng will be in the stands. He promised. He’s been texting him regularly since they arrived in Davis, sending him pictures of the road as he draws ever closer. But the full reality of it does not hit him until he sees him there. He is acting foolish, as per usual. His face is pressed up against the plexiglass and he is beaming at Raph as if they’ve already won.

And Raph is filled with so much warmth that he is afraid he might burst with it. The feeling forces him to move, hand flying into the air in a sign of acknowledge. I see you. I know you. Thank you.Thank you.Thank you.

After the game is over Michael Cheng finds him in the crowd of athletes and spectators slowly filtering out of the stadium. He looks as if he wants to reach out and touch him but he doesn’t, stopping three feet short and grinning at Raph. “You were great out there kiddo. I’m so proud.” 

Raph ducks his head. He can feel his face growing hot in the way it always does when anyone talks to him like this. “I was sufficient. If I had done more our score would not have been so close.”

Michael Cheng looks like he has something to say in response to that but his attention slides from Raph’s face to someone standing behind him. He grins in the smaller, polite way that he does when he’s greeting someone new. “Hi there!! You must be one of Raphie’s teammates! Congratulations!”

“Uh,” Neel replies eloquently, because wow, if this isn’t fucking awkward.

He and Raph haven’t really talked, since the whole stairway fight. There have been a few stilted attempts - enough to restore some modicum of civility between them - but it’s not like they’re on the best of terms. 

Neel was just trying to slide by them to get to the bus.

He clears his throat and shuffles his feet, slightly flustered by the sudden, unexpected attention. “Hi, yeah. I’m Neel.” He throws up his hand in a small, unsure wave. In all honesty, he’s got no clue who this guy is (he doesn’t really look like Raph, but, then again, he’d called him Raphie and that....sounds like a pet name, if he’s ever heard one) but he seems nice. Earnest, at the very least. “Thank you. Though, you know,” he shrugs, “I didn’t exactly do much.” He’d been off his game, tonight. He’d only scored one goal, in the shoot out, and while it had been a good, clean shot, it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. 

He bites back a sigh and reminds himself that he did his best. That he’s doing this for himself, now, and his best, finally, is good enough. Or, it should be, anyway. He’s still... working on learning how to accept that.

“It was really cool of you to come all the way out here,” he directs at Raph’s mystery guest, offering the older man a small, but decidedly genuine, grin. “You might have been the only person in that crowd who wanted us to win, tonight.”

[averyneel-blog1]

caseyhxndrix‌:

The whole media training thing is exhausting, mentally and physically. Being faced with being coached on how to not make a fool of themself or their team as championships loom strikes a chord in them. 

As it is, there’s enough stress surrounding them; Christmas, while it had been better than it could’ve, mostly just served to remind them of how much they’ve fucked up in the past, to the point where most of their family has no idea how to interact with them. Neel had been the only way they’d survived any of it. Being able to hold his hand, to have his support, it made it all possible to deal with. 

Then being faced with ways to appease the people who helped tear them down in the first place, well, it gets to them. Not a lot makes them angry, but it’s hard not to feel that bitterness as they try to navigate the training as quickly as possible, without truly taking much in. There’s not much that anyone could do to make them open to diplomatically answering the media’s questions. They’re not the one who needs to learn how to talk to people, the people recording them, asking them questions, writing distorted versions of what happens, those are the people who could stand to learn a thing or two.

So they’re not in a great mood, all in all.

Once the training’s over, they immediately go for a run, the first run since coming back, the first real one since their concussion. It feels good, freeing, nothing to worry about for a second, but the high that comes with running doesn’t feel like enough.

A shower, scalding hot, and too long, and then changing into a sweatshirt and sweatpants, the only idea in their mind to sleep. They’re already halfway to a nap themself when their phone vibrates a few times in a row, and they check their screen. A smile slips across their lips seeing the messages from Neel.

casey: finished up a while ago, thank fuck casey: never wanna do THAT again. as if i’d ever let anyone rope me into press duty after everything, anyway… casey: lucky for you, i could never dream of saying no to you casey: and that’s exactly what i need too casey: my room, fifteen minutes, be ready 2 cuddle 😘

It’s amazing the way even just knowing he was thinking of them takes a weight from their shoulders in a way even the run couldn’t. And it’s true, that is what they need, they realize with a slight ache in their chest, a need. Nothing feels quite as hard when they’ve got their arms wrapped around him. The world feels more gentle like that, and they like to think Neel feels that way, too.

Soon enough, they heard the knock on the door, and they immediately go to answer it, stepping into his space to press a kiss to his cheek, hand on his arm as soon as they see him.

“Hey there, rough morning?”

Neel’s already on his way back to the tower as he shoots Casey a couple of hasty replies, grinning softly as he does so.

neel: god, same neel: i could never talk in front of that many people  neel: i’d spontaneously combust neel: or melt into the floor neel: or, you know, just walk away without saying anything which i’m sure wymack would love neel: anyway. on my way now. i can’t wait to see you

He shoves his phone into his pocket and picks up his pace, ducking his head against the chilly breeze blowing through campus. He contemplates stopping off at his own room long enough to dump his stuff (and maybe take a shower, or at least re-apply his deodorant) but eventually decides against it - all he wants, right now, is to see Casey, and he’s sure they feel the same. If he smells a little like stale fear-sweat, it won’t be the first (or the last) time.

They answer the door after the first knock and he can’t help the small, satisfied noise he makes when they reel him in. Their lips are soft and warm and he melts into the gesture, gripping their hip with the hand that’s not tangled in the strap of his duffel bag. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, idly tracing circles into Casey’s hipbone through the soft fabric of their lounge pants. “Doesn’t matter anymore, though.”

And, fuck, he means it. As soon as he’d seen them, something had unfurled inside him. He feels lighter. Loose. Happy. It’s like the entire first half of his day hadn’t happened. Like he hadn’t been about to vibrate out his skin under the scrutiny of a dozen different reporters. Like he hadn’t questioned his entire worth as a person just for his inability to answer a few questions without stumbling through them.

It all seems so distant, standing here with Casey’s hand on his arm and the phantom feeling of their lips still lingering on his skin. It feels insignificant, in the face of this. Unable to hurt him, now that he’s surrounded by something so warm. So accepting.

He wants to tell them everything. Right here, in the middle of the hallway for everyone to see. He wants to tell them - that’s he’s never had this. Never felt anything like this, and god, he never wants it to go away. He wants to tell them that he’s been searching for something, desperately reaching, all of his life - and this is it. 

He wants to tell them he’s found it.

But he can’t. His lips feel too heavy and his heart is beating too fast and Casey smells too good and he’s so, so fucking aware of how fragile it all is, so he does the only thing he can, and kisses them.

His bag falls to the ground and he ignores it, backing them up until Casey’s back gently comes to rest against the doorframe. They taste crisp, when he licks into their mouth - like fresh air and cold water and waking up. He lingers for a few moments, breathing them in, before shifting back on his heels, suddenly feeling like an idiot. 

“I-... Sorry,” he shrugs. “I just really wanted to do that.”

[averyneel-blog1]

girlgoddessmars‌:

“Mmm to each their own but I’ve always kinda preferred sex,” Mars says with a predatory grin. “Relieves stress. Releases dopamine. It’s fun,” she hums, ticking each point off on her fingers as she watched Neel’s face for a reaction. He’s already so red. If she goes on she’s afraid he might explode.

Well, no, not afraid. Excited is the right term for what she’s feeling. Maybe even gleeful. “It’s also a really good work out, I mean, look at what it’s done for my body.” She twirls, pausing when she’s all the way around to wiggle her butt. “Great for the glutes and the lower tummy and the thighs, and I get to throw a few spanks in for my arms too,” Mars says, flexing one bicep in Neel’s direction.

Neel accepts her offer for company like the sweet naive piece of meat he is. “Great. All study and no play makes Neel a dull boy hun, and I know a spot with cappuccinos that’ll curl your toes,” Mars says, breezing past him as the doors of the elevator slide open. “Follow me,” she says with a wink.

[X]

“Oh, uh, right,” he nods awkwardly, running a hand through his hair just to give himself something to do that isn’t spluttering or staring at the floor. He idly toys with a lock, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger - a nervous gesture he picked up long ago, when his hair was first long enough to fiddle with.

“You look... very nice.” He clears his throat, cheeks heating again as he pointedly avoids her ass, which is suddenly much closer to his body than he realized. “Very strong. And, uh, fit. So I guess it must be working. Probably. Or maybe it’s the cheerleading? Or both. Probably both.” He nods, mostly to himself, and picks a spot on the mirrored wall to inspect, very closely, until the elevator finally slows to a stop, quaking slightly as it comes to rest. The doors ding pleasantly as they slide open and he almost whimpers.

He’s never been so happy to see a crowd.

Sighing quietly, he hefts his bag higher up his shoulder an dutifully follows Mars into the passing throng of harried students, unsuccessfully trying to come up with some polite way to escape.

It’s not that he doesn’t like her. It’s just that.... she’s terrifying. And she knows it. Which is, somehow, infinitely, much worse. 

For a moment, he contemplates texting Casey “SOS.” But, he’s almost certain they’re probably sleeping, this late, and the last thing he wants to do is rob them of that. Things have been a little rocky, lately, for his SO, and he wants nothing more than to give Casey time to rest and recharge. So, he’s going to handle this. 

It’s just coffee.

[averyneel-blog1]

LOCATION: The Court - After Media Training DATE: Saturday, Jan 12th TIME: Early afternoon STATUS: Closed @caseyhxndrix

Media training was, as he’d expected it to be, horribly awkward and ridiculously nerve-wracking. The trainers were kind, and did their best to coach him through his (many) mistakes, but he can’t say he’s not relieved when he’s finally dismissed. 

He’s just... never going to be comfortable talking in front of more than two or three strangers at a time. After this training, he might be able to manage it in a pinch, but it’s not going to be elegant. Or even very coherent, for that matter. (There’s a reason Wymack’s never forced him to do it, after all.)

He knows it’s kind of pathetic, for a senior - a leader, of sorts - to stumble and stammer and refuse to look into the camera or met a reporter’s gaze, but it’s not like he can help it. For a good portion of his life, he’d avoided talking to people altogether, for fucks sake. He’d learned to adapt to silence. To sink into the background. To become as unobtrusive and unremarkable as possible.

Those kind of habits - that kind of behavior - is something he’s not sure he can ever unlearn. (And really, he’s not sure he wants to. After all, it kept him alive, didn’t it? Helped him survive when he was homeless and alone.)

He’s okay with being quiet. It doesn’t bother him anymore. And, besides, he speaks freely when it matters. To his friends. His teammates. To Casey. 

Speaking of, after putting up with this bullshit for most of the day, there’s only one person he really wants to see. Neel rifles through his pocket for his phone as he heads out of the Court and into the mild winter sunshine, squinting against the glare as his eyes adjust. 

As stressful as today has been, he know’s it’s likely been worse for Casey. Winter break wasn’t exactly what either of them had expected, but it had been especially hard on Casey. Neel had spent most of the holiday in a state of perpetual worry, and that hasn’t eased much since their return to campus. 

He just... really cares about them. 

Loves them, even, as he’s come to discover over the past several months. He hasn’t said it out loud yet (doesn’t know how - too terrified to try) but it makes itself known every time he see’s them. It’s in the way his chest constricts. The way his palms start to sweat and his pulse picks up. The way his world narrows down to the slope of their jaw. The fullness of their lips. The faint laugh-lines that bracket their eyes.

He’s in so fucking deep that he’s only just now been able to admit to himself - to parse through what he’s feeling enough to make sense of it. 

He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to tell them. How he’s supposed to risk changing everything for this. Especially when Casey has so much going on already. It feels selfish, to even be worrying about it. 

Neel sighs lightly, trying to shake off some of the tension that’s crept up his spine, and awkwardly types out a couple of one-handed messages to his partner while he fumbles with his bag.

neel: please tell me you’ve finished up with the media circus already neel: i need three things to recover from this day neel: 1. you 2. a nap 3. you neel: that okay?

[averyneel-blog1]

cadxmitchell‌:

Cade’s more than relieved to see a familiar face that isn’t in a textbook. Granted, he’s been staring at animal anatomy but still. “Real bad, I think I’m gonna need to take a whole year off after this,” Cade chuckled. He looked toward the front of the line before he stepped out to give up his spot and go back over to Neel. The people ahead could get to move up one and Cade would offer to buy Neel something whenever they got up to the front.

“I swear my textbooks just keeps changing into a different language and it’s not making any sense. Also a little pissed that one of my professors said we weren’t going to be using the textbook at all and then told us right before finals that the exam would be based on the textbook.” It’s been a pain in Cade’s ass the past couple days, trying to read a whole textbook in days.

“Tell me you see a bright light at the end of the tunnel cause I don’t.” 

It seemed part of the college life. Complain about finals. Takes the exams. Sleep for a whole week. And start the new semester all over again. Cade figured some people would likely be partying it up a bit but Cade could think of ten other things he needed to do after finals. Partying not on that list.

It’s a small thing, but Cade voluntarily giving up his spot in line to join him farther back makes his throat constrict a little. It’s nice, especially since he and Cade have really only gotten to know each other recently, having spent Thanksgiving break in the same household. 

Cade doesn’t owe him anything- they aren’t teammates or classmates or dependent on each other in any way- but he’s still making an effort to be friends (or friendly, at the very least).

And that? Neel’s still not used to that. Not used to forming relationships that aren’t based on exy or survival or something equally intense.

It’s nice.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he jumps back into the conversation about school and finals with a sympathetic nod. “You’re telling me. I’m about to graduate, you’d think they’d cut me some slack.” He rolls his eyes. 

The line crawls along at a snails pace, but it’s warm in here - alive with the muted sounds of conversation, dutiful typing, and dreamy, acoustic guitar tracks piped in from the speakers overheard - and Cade’s company is light and unobtrusive, so he doesn’t mind.

“That’s the worst,” he pulls a face, remembering several classes where he’d been forced to endure the same sort of frantic “I-didn’t-read-the-textbook-God-help-me” cramming. “But hey. You’re smart. You’ve gotten this far right? It’ll be fine.” As far as reassurances go, it’s not the best, but he really does mean it. Every year, life after finals moves on. And, even when he’d panicked and thought he’d failed at least a few of his exams, things always turned out a lot less severe than he’d assumed.

He gives Cade’s shoulder a light shake. “Don’t get to in your head about it. Just do your best.” It’s laughable simple, but hopefully it’s enough to restore some small modicum of confidence. 

[averyneel-blog1]

girlgoddessmars‌:

He’s so nervous. Mars can feel him shifting uncomfortably beneath the weight of her attention. She likes it. There’s always been a special place in her heart for making pretty boys squirm and Neel Avery is no exception to that rule. Until the doors of the elevator reopen she’s got him pinned like an insect and she loves it.

If she can manage it without scaring him away, she’s going to see if she can make him over. A little mascara to accentuate his big doe eyes, some product to bring out the shine in his hair, with his bone structure the possibilities were really endless for what she could do with makeup. By the time she got through with him, he’d have more than just herself and Casey salivating.

It takes him almost a minute to come up with something coherent to say and Mars watches the whole time, an easy smirk curling the corner of her mouth up. “Same for me,” she practically purrs, inching closer to him just to see what he’ll do. “It’s actually been pretty stressful. Thankfully I know a couple of ways to relax.”

She hums when he mentions coffee. Mars has never needed a better excuse to go get a coffee. “I was just heading to get some myself. Mind if I go with you?” She asks, tilting her head in just the right way so that her hair spills out over her shoulder to frame her face perfectly.

“Oh. Yeah, that’s... You know. That’s good. It’s good to have outlets. I mostly just play exy. Exercise and stress relief and all that.” 

He knows his face is red. At this point, he’s just hoping and praying (most likely in vain) that she won’t comment on it. He shifts a little, hooking his thumbs into the straps of his backpack just to have something to do with his hands, and tries to force himself to calm down. 

This isn’t a big deal. He’s making it a big deal. For absolutely no reason.

Neel exhales lightly and some of the tension that’s been wracking his frame since the elevator doors closed dissipates. If he can play against some of the best, most ruthless college exy teams in the country, then he can handle a conversation with a pretty girl. That simple.

“Uh, sure. Yeah that’s fine.” Her request, at this point, doesn’t really surprise him. He’s not exactly sure what he’s done to earn her attention tonight but, whatever it was seems to have her pretty invested. “I was just going to grab something and head back here to get a little more studying in, but. That can wait.” He shrugs and shoots her a small, slightly uncertain, smile.

[averyneel-blog1]

sashahartashby‌:

“Cute,” Sasha replies before turning her attention to her phone, more for show than anything, considering there’s no service in the elevator. She doesn’t know why she said anything at all. Just because they’re on the same team doesn’t mean they actually need to talk. And she definitely doesn’t need to waste her time talking to fifth years, since they won’t be around much longer. She blames the stuffy library for the effect it’s having on her brain.

The elevator feels like it’s taking an hour rather than a minute purely due the awkward silence they both fall in before it’s Neel’s turn to try and break it. The way he fumbles through his words prompts Sasha to look up from her phone, raising a brow in amusement. With how much he’s floundering, Sasha would think she asked him to give a speech on the state of their economy. 

“I bet they do say you’re a pretty listener,” Sasha smirks before dropping her phone in her purse and crossing her arms over her chest, looking him up and down. She never paid much attention to Neel, they come from opposite backgrounds and there’s two years between them. He has a sort of scruffy lost puppy look to him. At least his hair is pretty impressive. 

“We don’t actually need to talk. There’s no rule about it,” Sasha points out just as the elevator dings and the door opens. “But we are going to the same place, and I’m not about to do the awkward walk in the same direction and pretend we have no idea thing, so I’ll talk,” She decides as she steps out of the elevator and heads for the exit. “I’m taking Leo to Malibu, by the way. Thanks for asking about my holiday plans.” 

Neel follows her out of the elevator with a suitably abashed wince, silently cursing his abysmal lack of social confidence when it comes to literally anything other than exy. 

“Ah, shit. Sorry,” he mumbles, ducking his head and running a nervous hand through his hair. His fingers catch on a few errant tangles near the ends and he yanks at them thoughtlessly. “But, Leo huh?” He shoots her a quick glance as they pass through the metal detectors and step out into the late evening chill, one eyebrow slightly elevated. 

She and Leo.... don’t exactly seem to fit, based on the little he knows about each of them. But, then again, who is he to judge? His relationship with Casey (as amazing as it is) is the first one he’s ever been in. Aren’t people always saying that opposites attract? Maybe this is just that. And, besides, they do have some things in common the he knows of. For one, they’re both rich. (Like, very rich, as far as he’s aware.) And popular. And good looking.

Maybe that’s enough. 

“How’s that going? Is he excited? Malibu seems like a pretty nice place to spend winter vacation. Very....warm.”

Neel tries not to let the mild jealousy he feels show on his face as he burrows a little deeper into his coat, shoving his hands into fleece-lined pockets. He keeps his eyes on the soft glow emanating from the windows of the coffee shop up ahead and assures himself that heat and coffee aren’t that far away.

[averyneel-blog1]

cadxmitchell‌:

Cade entirely sure that he’s seen enough of the veterinarian labs for the rest of the semester. But he left with the reminder of why he made the decision to study veterinarian medicine. The looming semester brings on a whole new set of classes–ones much more exciting than his current semester. But first, he has to survive two written examples and he’s only partially prepared for them.

He needs to do research for one of the essay questions; one of the many. He’s almost thankful that the professor gave them a list of essay questions, but knowing that only three out of ten would be picked made him stressed regardless. Too much information to try to store into his brain.

Before heading to the shelves where he would no doubt sit for hours surrounded by books, Cade stopped by the barista in order to get himself coffee. He’d need caffeine if he wanted to survive the torture of finals.

Waiting in the line, Cade let out an impatient sigh as he rolled his head to stretch his neck. It was in his little waiting dance in line when he spots a familiar face, looking at Neel with a smile. “I guess I’m not the only one with the same need to stay awake.” 

The shop is, predictably, packed to the brim with desperate procrastinators, all looking to get their late night caffeine fixes. It’s annoying as it is predictable. Neel sighs as he settles into his spot in line, just barely inside the door. He’s still close enough to the glass that he can feel the cold seeping sluggishly in. 

He cups his hands in front of his face and blows into them, flexing his fingers. He was only outside for a minute or two - but that, apparently, was enough. While the cold has woken him up a bit, it’s also made his intense need for something warm to drink all the more urgent. He subtly cranes his neck to catch sight of the register, hoping to ascertain how quickly the line is moving, when he catches sight of Cade, doing a small, restless full body squirm.

They notice him back almost immediately and he gives a small wave at their answering grin. Luckily, Cade’s not far enough away that he would have to yell to talk to him.

“Finals kicking your ass too?”

[averyneel-blog1]

sashahartashby‌:

South Carolina is cold and the library is stuffy, and Sasha’s new manicure is fucked from typing so many papers. It would usually be the perfect combination to make her count down the days until she’s in sunny Malibu, but it’s hard to be excited to go home when it means Irina will be watching her every move again. Luckily, she’ll have Leo with her to divert her attention, but she can’t help but worry everything will go horribly wrong.

A pretty rich boy might not be enough to erase those pictures at Anya’s grave, though. Worst case scenario, Leo might become Irina’s new favorite person to vent about Sasha with. Her past isn’t a secret, the media made sure of that, but there’s still so many things her mother has on her that wasn’t shown to the public, like the pool boy. If Christmas becomes the talk shit about Sasha show, she’s going to run away to Fiji. 

Sasha tries not to think about break the last few days holes up in the library, but the quiet makes it easy for her thoughts to wander. She realizes it’s time for a coffee break when she’s been staring at the same sentence for more than twenty minutes. Packing her stuff up, she heads for the elevator, pressing the button just as Neel gets there. 

Sasha doesn’t know whether to acknowledge him or not. The two don’t really talk. They have no reason to other than being on the same team. The last time she talked to him for more than thirty seconds was to tell him to take his disgustingly sick-self to the nurse. 

“So, you and Casey, huh?” Sasha begins when she gets uncomfortable with the silence, not entirely sure where she’s going with this. “Are you two going to do the whole adorable couple’s holiday thing?” 

“Um, yeah,” Neel answers awkwardly, “I guess we are. They invited me to come home with them, anyway. I’m not sure what all we’ll be doing but, you know.” He shrugs as if to say ‘why the fuck not.’

Silence descends upon the elevator once more and Neel fights back a sigh. He hikes the strap of his bag a little higher up his shoulder and tries to find something to say.

He’s never really been very good at the whole ‘small talk’ thing. Especially not when he’s alone with someone. He always ends up so far in his own head that he can hardly get more than a few words out at a time without freezing up and feeling like a jackass. He just... sounds so stupid, sometimes. ‘How’s class? What’s the weather like? Doing okay in practice?’ They’re not inherently stupid questions, of course. But they just sound so much more ridiculous when he says them.

Neel finally releases the sigh he’s been suppressing, rubbing a hand ineffectually at the dark bags forming beneath his eyes.

“Look, I’m going to level with you. I’m uh. Way too tired to come up with convincing small talk. I need at least eight ounces of coffee before I’ll be anywhere near functional enough not to sound like a total dipshit. So.” He trails off for a moment, shooting Sasha a slightly helpless look. “If you want, I’ll listen to whatever you want to talk about? Casey says I’m a pretty listener. Uh! A pretty good listener. I’m good. At listening.” 

As his face begins to heat, Neel silently wills himself to melt into the stained carpet beneath his feet.