#andreil wedding

[intrenalcrisisnerd]

For my event planning class I have to plan a wedding....my teammates will never know. This is an actual report I am submitting for a grade.....sometimes I like life.

[starrycassi]

Out of character.

Andrew is the last person that one would expect to be insecure about himself. But, sometimes, some days, some nights.

Or the one where Nicky indirectly causes his cousin's marriage.

.

When Neil wakes up, the air is wrong.

Instinctively, he checks his own pulse, to make sure that he isn't having a heart attack. He isn't, so, that is good. He checks his own breathing, sits down in bed and looks around, makes sure that his body is okay. Or as okay as it can be after a specially rough night in the rink. US against Canada, the match of the year.

They won, so, that is good. His inner health is okay, also. No signs of any panic attacks coming, or anything of the sorts. Betsy taught him how to identify them.

The air is still wrong.

He takes a deep breath. It isn't the putrid, nose-clogging, overly sweet fragrance he is used to, and that's not good. It isn't sugary syrup and chocolate pancakes, it isn't colorful cereals and strawberry milk. It isn't anything Andrew usually ate for breakfast.

That sets off all his alarms. That was not good. Andrew, like him, has good days and bad days and days when eating is too much of a task for him to perform and he ends up just wanting to sleep in all day. Neil takes care of him, those days. Brings him food, water, and tries to be as quiet as possible throughout the day. If he can't do it, Renee will, and if they can't, Kevin will, and sometimes even Aaron shows up. Nicky's living in Germany now, but he makes sure to video chat often enough.

It's 8 am, already. Neil usually wakes up earlier. He runs out of the bed and into the kitchen, worried. What if it is too late, too late to cook, too late to bake, too late to order delivery, too late to call for an ambulance, too late to give him cpr, too late to-

Andrew is just sitting there, peacefully. In front of him, a bowl of salad. He's eating it

That is weird. Neil's brain doesn't have enough information about the situation to actually do anything. He locks his eyes in Andrew's face, and stares.

Andrew looka up, places his fork down in the green-filled bowl, and smiles.

That isn't good. Oh, God.

Neil suddenly feels so, so lost. He's seen Andrew smile a hundred times before. Under the meds, he smiled all the time; after that, just in a couple of very quick, small gestures on very certain events. A "blink and you'll miss it" situation.

This isn't genuine. This looks copypasted, and suddenly they are 19-ish again, sitting at the bleachers of the PSU exy's court, Andrew smiling at nothing and Neil frowning at him.

"Did you sleep well, honey?"

Wrong. Andrew's voice usually doesn't sound like that. He never says "honey". His tone is off. Is he mad? Playing a prank? Neil's heart skips a beat. The only logical explanation is that, somehow, in the middle of their slumber, Katelyn and him swapped minds and this man in front of him is, actually, Aaron. But this is his mind, and his body, and his house, so not that.

The other suitable theory is that Andrew was been cloned by idiot aliens in his sleep. That seems better.

"Neil? I asked... I asked if you slept well, baby?"

Neil takes one step back.

Andrew and him are not some sort of loveless, tragic, doomed marriage. They are a happy "technically we're secretly married just for the legal and tax benefits" couple, and Andrew is a lovely "technically" husband. He brings Neil new notebooks with funky covers for him to do maths and doodle on, he makes sure that Neils running shoes are in their best shape and a pair is always by the door and ready to be used, he buys electrolytes and a lot of vegetables he doesn't even like, he does small, little things, everyday, to make his "technically" husband's life better.

He never, EVER, calls him baby, though. As a joke, perhaps. When he wants to point out his stupidity and immaturity. Never as a pet name.

This is wrong.

Andrew, smiling, squinted at him. He isn't wearing his glasses. He isn't in his usual outfit. There was more skin showing than it would usually be. Andrew wore pants and long sleeves whenever he could, and this isn't exactly a babydoll, but he's wearing nothing more than his boxers and a wife-beater that belongs to Neil and looks way too tight and a bit too long on him.

He gets up, his smile carved into his face like a curse to bear and not the blessing to witness it usually was. He walks straight to Neil, and his eyes look completely out of it.

Neil should've dealt with things better. Realize that his "technically" husband is intoxicated. But instinct overtakes him, and in less than two minutes, he hastily puts on a pair of running shoes and leaves the house without a word.

He's a shitty "technically" husband.

To try and amend that, he stops in a park that he knows well by now, takes a few deep breaths, and calls Betsy Dobson.

.

Calling Betsy Dobson is one of his least favorite activities. That means something is wrong, and he kikes it when things are good.

(Andrew banned the word "fine" from the household. Good was an easy replacement)

So Neil calls Betsy and explains the situation with guilt, because leaving Andrew alone was a shitty move, Betsy confirms she will call Andrew, and Neil runs back to the house. Betsy calls him back in the middle of the way, says that Andrew's safety isn't compromised, and tries to get him to talk about himself and his feelings about the situation.

He hangs up.

He gets to the house in record time. The 20 minutes it usually takes him to return from the Gardenia Park turned into ten minutes, minutes crushed under his shoes, under his desperation to get back, under the curses at himself for his reaction, under his attempt to think about what is going on, and his many illogical ideal on how to deal with it.

Perhaps he shouldn't hang up on Dobson, in the future.

It's strange, but relieving, to see Andrew, his Andrew, open the door. Black sweater, grey sweatpants, glasses, Andrew. Mildly annoyed, quiet, Andrew. His "technically" husband. His lover. The man he loves. Really, actually, literally, loves.

Andrew rolls his eyes at him and his whole appearance, scowling, and the world is back on track, "Feeling better, rabbit?"

He moves from the door and Neil gets in, smiling. Yeah. Better. Rabbit is a lovely pet name. He likes it. Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit. He likes it. The world is spinning again.

"A bit. Feeling better, geumbal?"

Andrew stays silent, probably trying to remember what the foreign word means.

But that's fine. Uh, good. That's good. Neil drops himself on the couch, panting a bit. This was an extremely confusing situation, and he's beginning to question if it was real or he ran too much and his lack of oxygen made him halucinate or something when Andrew sighs, heavily, and asks, as a force of habit, "Yes or no?"

It's always a yes, and Neil says so. Andrew sits down next to him, and they aren't cuddling, but this is everything Neil could ever possibly have

"So..."

Andrew sighs, again.

"I'll say this, once. Coach sent us some vodka to celebrate yesterday's thing. I drank. Nicky called. He gave me some advice and I was intoxicated enough to try and follow it"

Neil can't help but burst out laughing.

The idea of Nicky trying to give Andrew some love advice is incredibly funny, but Andrew doesn't laugh, or chuckle, or call him stupid or something. He tenses his jaw and looks at the wall, and that's not good.

"I'm glad it was amusing to you, Josten"

"You're technically a Josten too, you know?"

That usually does it. Andrew turns around and Neil acts like he can't see the blush on his "technically" husband's face. Or he calls Neil a ridiculous sap. Or he vaguely says something about divorce rates on same sex couples.

Dobson would want them to talk about things. Andrew would probably listen to her advice and they'll do it anyway. So, might as well.

"Truth for truth. Yes or no?"

Andrew looks at him, lifting his eyebrows. He looks somewhat impressed. It's a spark, and then it's gone. They haven't been playing that, lately. They live, work and sleep together. There's no room for a lot of secrets.

"Yes. Ask"

Neil nods, and gets himself ready. He tries to think about the best, most cohesive way to word his question. Over the years, he's gotten better at covering all his bases in a single question, so Andrew can't claim that he should ask smarter questions if he wants better answers. But his brain is acting weird, and he hasn't eaten anything yet, and he's now used to breakfast, which, isn't it crazy, that Neil Josten is used to breakfast? And that someone usually cooks it for him? And that they share it, calmly and in silence, just because they're both free to do so?

"What led you to listen to Nicky when, before, you never really did that, even drunk or drugged?"

It's a bit of a tongue twister to spit out, but he manages just fine. Andrew frowns some more, and sighs, again. He looks everywhere but at Neil. He's ashamed. Sad. He's uncomfortable. But, he tells himself, he said yes, and this is Neil, and Neil would never hurt him on purpose. And he wants this. He wants to talk about it. And isn't it so crazy, that Andrew Minyard is going to talk about himself? And that someone will listen to him? Just because this is what they both want?

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not perfect. And even more contrary to popular belief, I am aware of that. I know that I'm not the most pleasant person to be around. I was thinking about it, these days, you know, with the legal paperwork and that. I guess I want to change a bit. For the better"

It's nice, to say it to someone who isn't Bee. It's nice, to look into Neil's eyes and see the millions of emotions running under them. It's nice, to know that 14-yo Andrew Doe would never believe he can say those words to someone. It's nice, to know that 20-yo Andrew Minyard would never want to say those words to someone. It's nice, to be Andrew Minyard-Josten, and simply sit on the sofa and talk things through with his lover. It's nice, to have a lover he actually loves, and wants, and chooses.

Neil leans in, and he mutters the question, and Andrew says yes because he fucking wants to and not because someone is holding a knife to his throat or something like that. They kiss, slowly, with feelings and all that sappy bullshit Andrew Doe wanted to have. They kiss, kindly, and they're so close that Andrew Minyard would have a panic attack and lash out. They kiss.

Then they take a break to breathe. Andrew asks and Neil says no, whispering and chuckling like an idiot, and Andrew may be blushing from the heat of the moment, but he moves away from Neil because they're both safe here. Safe to say yes. Safe to say no.

"I just- I want my question. Ask me again after that"

Andrew doesn't really need to think this one through. His mouth moves before his brain does, vomiting his biggest worry at the moment.

"If you could, what would you... change, in me?"

It's a question he never planned on saying. It feels weird. Like someone else, some lovey dovey married moron, said it. But perhaps that's the kinda person he's becoming. After all, to be loved is to evolve, or something like that.

Neil hums in silence, and Andrew is AJ, Andrew Doe, Andrew Minyard and a ball of anxiety all at once, and then, "Well, full honesty? There's something I'm fucking tired of. I think it's utter bullshit"

And he gets down on one knee. And they didn't do this. They did the legal paperwork, but never this, not this, and Andrew can feel his heart stopping and his idiot of a soon-to-be-again husband has absolutely no ring but that's fine, that's fine because he has Andrew's heart and what else can they fuckin need?

"Andrew Minyard Josten. Yes, or no?"

He never planned this. He never even allowed himself to dream about this, but, God, he's earned it. He wants this, and the "technically" thing was getting old and the sun is coming from the windows and Neil looks somewhat like an angel and they're thirty already and isn't this so weird when did they turn thirty he never planned to make it this far and it's like ten am already and neither one of them's had an actual breakfast and they're both in pajamas and-

"Yes"

And they go back to the whole kissing thing.

[karmiky]

Andrew’s vows:

You know, I’ll admit it.

Meeting a blue eyed, sharp tongued menace was really difficult on me. You were always running, never telling the truth. Not a single person knowing a damn thing about you. Yeah. It was rough. Thinking about you all the time, worrying about you all the time, caring about you all the time. And I know it’s not entirely your fault that we are both mentally unbalanced and infected with these delusions of affection. And I know you’re physically incapable of holding a conversation with anyone that doesn’t include exy. But I love you more than any other human being can. And I don’t think I could deal with a single day without your bullshit.

[imlex44]

andrew: i fucking hate you

neil: i know, you have the eternity to hate me now

*put the wedding ring on his hand*

matt in the first chair: THEY GROW SO FAST *cries in fake father language*

[plantelty]

Ok BUT IF Andrew and Neil got married, and Andrew took Neil's last name, he would be Andrew Joseph Josten; and therefore, a JoJo.

Nothing further, Your Honor. No I do not take criticism.

[leahlisabeth]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard Additional Tags: Weddings, Wedding Fluff, Bets & Wagers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff Summary:

Andrew and Neil are planning a wedding. They hit a bit of a snag when it comes to choosing a cake.