Switching: Delayed switch
If you'd like to follow the fanfic, it's on AO3 with the same name. The author is Shisnn
Description: There had always been only one Neil Abram Josten. Maybe he hadn't always been himself, but now — after Baltimore and the victory — he really does feel like himself, doesn't he? Nothing's going to change, right? Neil is Neil, and Nathaniel is just something from the past. Or is he?
Neil didn't want to think that something was wrong with him. He was always "fine," so it always seemed to him that whatever was happening was normal. Yeah, sometimes dissociation hit him. Yeah, sometimes he was a little too good with knives for his own comfort. Yeah, sometimes he didn't remember certain things — but what did it matter? With his past, that was normal, right?
It felt like after Baltimore and the championship, he should've been doing better — at least that's what Neil himself thought, and that's how it seemed to him. Everything was "fine." He slept okay, still had nightmares sometimes, but he ate a little better, and he spent time with the Foxes and Andrew — especially Andrew — more or less fine too.
After everything had settled down, the two of them had more time together, even with classes and practices that Neil used to throw himself into so much that Andrew literally had to drag him off the court. For Neil, everything had become routine. Normal. For Andrew too, probably — although lately he'd started noticing some strange things about the redheaded disaster.
One moment Josten wouldn't remember their recent rooftop hangout. The next, he'd act too strange — too withdrawn, too quiet, flinching at anyone who got too close too fast.
Andrew chalked it up to bad days. But he started noticing that on those bad days, Neil didn't seem like Neil. He changed too much for just a bad day — like this was Neil from the past. That scared, trust-nobody kid who'd rather throw a knife at you than let you get too close.
At some point, it started bothering Andrew — not that he wanted to admit it. Hadn't this happened before? Or had it? Now that he thought about it, ever since he'd known Neil, the guy sometimes seemed to flip like someone had hit a switch. It wasn't always visible, but the feeling was there. Back then, Andrew had been preoccupied with other things about Josten, so he hadn't paid it much attention.
In the end, Andrew decided to just watch for now. Maybe he was imagining things, or maybe Neil was just hiding something again. But then a breaking point came — a moment when the blond knew for certain that something wasn't right with the redhead.
It was a weekend night. Kevin had gone to night practice, trying to drag Andrew and Neil along, but those two — well, Andrew — waved him off for both of them. Nicky had ditched to watch movies and drink with the upperclassmen — I mean, who'd say no to that? "You guys can sulk here."
In the end, only Neil and Andrew were left in the room, both already asleep. At least Andrew was — until he heard a ragged, quiet but sharp half-gasp, half-yelp, like someone surfacing from water after nearly drowning. Then came quick footsteps toward the bathroom. Andrew barely opened his eyes, pushing himself up from the bed, listening for sounds from the bathroom — but there were none, or they were too quiet for him to hear from the top bunk. So he climbed down and walked to the bathroom door, knocking a couple of times.
— Neil? — Andrew asked, his voice a little hoarse with sleep.
There was no response, no other noises from behind the door. Andrew even got the feeling that Josten was holding his breath just so he wouldn't be heard. Waiting a bit longer, the blond slowly opened the door, expecting to see Neil huddled in the corner of the shower stall, breathing hard, hands in his hair, practically pulling it out — as usual.
Instead, he saw Josten standing at the sink, the faucet running, spitting out — as Andrew realized — the remains of vomit. Neil immediately turned toward the blond. The redhead looked, to put it mildly, rough: tangled hair with slightly damp ends, red eyes, too wary — like standing before him wasn't Andrew but one of his father's henchmen — shortness of breath like he'd just run a marathon. Neil didn't say a word to Andrew, just stared, one hand gripping the edge of the sink, the other wiping water from his mouth. They stood in silence for a full minute — maybe more — until Andrew spoke.
— Bad dream? — Andrew leaned against the doorframe, scanning Josten from head to toe with a strange feeling inside that this wasn't really Neil.
The redhead didn't answer, only narrowed his eyes further, pressed his lips together, turned back to the sink, and shut off the faucet.
— None of your business, — Neil muttered in a different tone than usual, waving the blond off. If it were up to him, he'd have already left because of that disgusting feeling in his chest again, but of course Andrew was blocking the way with his body, and Neil didn't particularly want to get close to him — not understanding why himself.
Andrew tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes.
— Josten, if you say you're fine one more time, I really will wring your neck.
— I'm fine, — Neil hissed, turning to Andrew with an irritated look. His thoughts tangled into a huge, messy knot that the redhead couldn't properly unravel because of his own contradictions — as if none of these thoughts were his.
Neil couldn't take it anymore. He headed for the exit, gave Andrew a slight push — accidentally or on purpose, he no longer understood anything himself — walked out into the hallway, and started putting on his sneakers. Andrew followed him and stopped by the wall.
— Where are you going? — Andrew asked, on alert.
— A run, — Neil didn't even look at him, tying his laces.
— Why not? You can't forbid me anything, you're not my babysitter, — Neil replied, finally done with his shoes, grabbing the key from the shelf, opening the door.
Andrew wanted to argue, but Neil was right. Andrew couldn't forbid this redheaded disaster from doing anything, so — gritting his teeth a little — he stepped back and let Neil leave. But he himself couldn't fall back asleep, just smoked. Josten came back a couple of hours later, didn't say a word to the blond, just showered and went back to bed.
The following days were strange. Even the other Foxes noticed that Neil was different: quieter, colder, had started unconsciously picking and biting the skin around his nails, sometimes staring into nowhere as if he wasn't really there, and remembering recent events poorly — even just hanging out with the Foxes.
The team was on edge, especially Andrew, even if he showed it the least. Some of the Foxes even started thinking that something had happened to Neil again. The mob? Someone or something from the past? So in the end, they decided to try to find out with small, casual questions — though they probably realized they wouldn't get much.
Given how "talkative" the redhead had been lately — with his signature "I'm fine" — getting the truth out of him was already hard enough, and now he was also stuck in some kind of perpetual daze. The first to try to find out what had happened to Neil was Allison — because she had a way with words, and in her opinion, she could get anything out of anyone. Well, actually, Nicky wanted to go first, but the blond beat him to it.
A couple of days later in the library, Neil sat at a far table reading some sci-fi, once again looking like a walking ghost because of his hollow stare. Allison didn't even bother grabbing a book; she just sat down across from Neil, propped her head on both hands, and stared at him. They spent two, maybe three minutes in silence. Neil didn't start a conversation — just muttered a "hey" when she first sat down, and even that seemed like a formality.
— You know, my favorite brand just dropped a new collection, so many cute things — I think a lot of it would suit you, don't you think? — she said with a smile, trying to start a conversation. Neil only hummed in response, glancing at her briefly.
For the next few minutes, Allison chattered away — about clothes, light gossip, news. Gradually, she worked her way toward questions about Neil himself: first simple ones like "what do you think about this?" and "what about this?" and "how do you like that?" then "you know, I've been feeling a little stressed about exams lately, how about you?" Eventually, she couldn't hold back anymore and asked directly:
— Neil, stop playing dumb. Anyone can see something's wrong, so why don't you just say it? — the blond said, slightly annoyed.
— There's your "I'm fine" again. When are you going to start admitting anything?
Neil was quiet for a moment, staring at the table.
— I don't know. Sorry, I have to go, — Josten said and left, leaving Allison frustrated.
The next ones to try were Dan, Nicky, and Matt — all separately — but they failed because of their approaches. Nicky jumped from topic to topic so quickly he forgot the question entirely. Dan was more persistent, but Neil — first of all, looked like he hadn't slept in three hundred years, and second, kept brushing her off. Matt, on the other hand, was too soft, and the conversation just fizzled out.
Two of the Foxes didn't even try: Aaron — because Josten wasn't his problem, that was his twin's — and Renee — because Neil himself had to decide when and to whom to open up, though in a way she was sure Andrew would find out everything; she just didn't say it out loud.
Kevin's attempt ended a little roughly. After practice, when they were alone in the locker room, Kevin hadn't even planned to ask at first, but at the sight of the redhead, he said anyway:
— You played like shit today, — Kevin shoved his uniform into the locker, turning fully toward Neil, who stood facing his own locker.
— I know, — Neil answered, closing his locker.
— That's it? If you know, why didn't you fix it?
— It's harder to play in the striker position, — Neil immediately stopped, realizing he'd said something he shouldn't have.
— What? — Kevin stepped closer to Neil.
— Nothing, — Neil turned to Kevin, looking up into his eyes, — I'm just tired.
Kevin drilled Josten with his stare for a few seconds — long enough for Neil to understand that the brunet didn't believe him. Neil tried to leave, but Kevin blocked his way, planting a hand on the locker right by Neil's head.
— What's going on with you? You look like a walking corpse, you won't talk, you keep chewing the hell out of your fingers. Neil, for fuck's sake, just tell some truth already, — Kevin was practically hissing by the end, his hand clenched into a fist. Neil just bored into him with his stare in return.
— It's none of your business, you wouldn't understand. Now move.
— Fucking Josten — if it turns out someone's hunting you again, I'll kill you myself. What happened?
— Nothing. Back off already, Exy Queen, — Neil shot back.
— No, not until you tell me something.
— Kevin, — Neil's voice hardened.
— Neil, — Kevin almost copied the redhead's tone.
— Let go, — Neil tried to push Kevin's hand away, but he stood firm. Neil looked away. — I...
Neil didn't get to finish as the locker room door opened and a familiar figure appeared with a thatch of white-blond hair. Andrew had been waiting for Neil too long, so he decided to check what was going on — but he hadn't expected to see Day and Neil staring each other down.
— A date without me? Am I interrupting?
— You're the last thing we needed, — Kevin grumbled.
— Don't you want to step back, huh? Day? — Andrew said, shoving his hands in his pockets, taking a "relaxed" stance.
Kevin clicked his tongue in irritation but stepped away from Josten. Neil quickly glanced at Kevin, then at Andrew, who jerked his head toward the exit and walked out himself. Neil silently followed.
They walked in silence until they reached the roof and sat on the edge as usual. Neil sat farther from the blond than usual. Andrew noticed but said nothing — just handed Neil a cigarette and a lighter after lighting his own. Neil took the lighter, lit the cigarette, and took a drag.
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, just smoking, staring into the distance, until Andrew said:
Neil was quiet for a moment, glanced at Andrew, and nodded.
— Words, Neil, — Andrew looked the redhead in the eyes.
Andrew didn't hesitate, just moved closer, placing a hand on the back of Neil's neck, running his thumb along it. For a few seconds, they just looked into each other's eyes — then Andrew leaned forward and kissed Neil, pressing his lips firmly to Neil's, running his tongue along Neil's upper lip, still watching Josten's half-lidded eyes as Neil parted his lips, letting Andrew's tongue into his mouth, and closed his eyes completely.
Andrew watched Neil for another moment, then closed his own eyes too, squeezing the guy's neck slightly. Neil tilted his head, giving Andrew more room. A few more seconds later, they pulled apart with a wet sound, but their faces were still inches apart, both looking into each other's eyes.
— What's going on, Neil? — Andrew asked, squeezing his neck again.
Neil, still breathing hard after the kiss, held the pause too long — but Andrew didn't plan on letting him go.
— Nathaniel, — Neil finally said.
— What? — Andrew said, a little confused.
— The name Neil is too different. Call me Nathaniel, — Nat answered. Or Neil?
