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Neil had that twitchy look about him again. His limbs were still, conspicuously so. It gave him away faster than any tic or fidgeting could have. His slouch was too calculated, feet planted firmly on the ground, shoulders loose, but his arms conveniently placed to help launch himself off the couch or over it. His eyes ran a circuit around the room: Andrew, east window, Matt, north window, Kevin, door, back to Andrew to start all over again. Looking for exits. Preparing to rabbit. Renee wondered if he even knew he was doing it. Wondered if the others saw it as starkly as she did. Doubtful.
She may have been insulted to be disregarded so quickly but that was pride talking, and his gaze also skipped over Nicky and Aaron in his rotation instead of just his female teammates. He was checking exits and those most likely to try and stop him. Renee could stop him and she suspected he knew it. But she wouldn’t. And he knew that too. Allison, Dan and Nicky would be too slow off the mark, not expecting it. Aaron wouldn’t care if he ran directly into traffic. Matt was big and fast and cared about Neil, likely to grab him and then ask questions rather than the other way around. Kevin cared about losing his striker and happened to be closest to the door. Andrew was the puzzling part of the equation. Unless Neil was launching himself at Kevin or kin, Andrew would hardly bat an eyelash.
Had Andrew finally crossed whatever invisible threshold Neil had to make him feel threatened by him? No, that didn’t seem right. Neil hadn’t cared when Andrew had sat beside him earlier. Hadn’t made to inch or lean away since. Perhaps it was merely his unpredictability. Andrew would stop him from running if he thought there was something interesting involved.
The conversation hardly seemed offensive – Allison trying to convince them to take a celebratory West coast road trip after they trounced the Ravens that seemed to feature an awful lot of drinking around a bonfire on beaches whether they won or lost. The team as a whole seemed keen on the idea, with Nicky, Dan and Matt being particularly enthusiastic. Neil was wholeheartedly invested in beating Riko and the Ravens and normally wouldn’t tolerate any hint of anything less than total victory on and off the Court but instead of speaking up he was silent.
Renee did her best not to frown in concern. She turned her thoughts from trying to satisfy her curiosity and tried to come up with a distraction that would allow Neil to relax again. Did she need to change the location or the discussion? Make the group smaller? Quieter? Louder?
She was just about to suggest ordering out when Neil froze. His attention snapped to his wrist and stayed there.
Andrew had two fingers touching the back of Neil’s wrist.
Renee held her breath.
Andrew watched the room with the same detached apathy he had all night. His movement had been small enough and discrete enough that Renee had missed it. Would have continued to miss it if Neil hadn’t been so intent on where they made contact.
She was preparing herself for having to step in to stop a brawl when instead Neil let out a long breath. The tension in his jaw faded. The hand along the back of the couch clawed into the material briefly before relaxing completely. His right foot shifted a little. Just enough to break his stance, his knee leaning out a fraction until the fabric of his jeans brushed against Andrew’s. He closed his eyes for the time it took to inhale and when he opened them again they focussed on Nicky who was telling a story with his hands as much as with his mouth.
Renee glanced down briefly to see the discrete contact was being maintained, then up to find Andrew staring at her. She met the challenge in his unwavering gaze, placid and assured he wouldn’t offer violence. Not to her.
It was a surprise that Neil had been calmed by Andrew’s touch rather than wound up by it like everyone else would be. She was even more surprised Andrew had offered comfort. It wasn’t that she thought him completely incapable, more that she hadn’t expected him to deem Neil worthy of an attempt. The gesture spoke of a foundation she hadn’t realised was there. Andrew didn’t really have what she would call friends. She supposed she was the closest he had to one, though it was more of an understanding than the traditional concept of friendship. Her heart swelled with quiet joy. It was good, for once, to be proven wrong. They both needed friendship. Needed it like they needed air. She had tried her best to be that for Andrew and held quiet hope the one day Neil would come to give her the opportunity to offer herself in the same role with him. Until then, she was glad to see they had each other.
Although…
The fingers on the back of Neil’s wrist remained. And so did Neil’s knee against Andrew’s. The gestures spoke of familiarity. Of reassurance that came with repetition. There was an intimacy about it. Andrew did not allow casual touch. Not from Aaron and Nicky. Not from her or Coach, Abby, or even Betsy. But he allowed it with Neil. Had initiated it with Neil.
Renee smiled, just the smallest curve to the corner of her mouth. If they were more than just friends she was happy for them. Love healed many wounds that nothing else could. She hoped her expression conveyed her acceptance, and a promise of discretion, whatever the nature of their relationship may be.
Andrew blinked, slow like a contented cat, and looked away again just as imperious and distracted as one, and Renee knew he had seen and accepted her knowledge and her promise. Trusted her to uphold it.
Renee touched the cross at her throat with gentle fingers and sent up a silent prayer of thanksgiving and gratitude.
Love, after all, healed what nothing else could.