i havent read this over bc who do u think i am

It was really only ever a matter of time before Andrew put his foot down about Neil being more protected, Neil supposes. He's taken to the habit of rolling his armbands on whenever he goes out without Andrew, even if it's only to the shop, so this is probably the most sensible way to achieve that protection.

Still: it's a shock when he tries to slide on the armbands before driving to the court for a solo practice on a Sunday afternoon, only to find the black fabric rigid. He frowns at the lump he now feels in them, and fiddles around the hem until he finds the sheath for hiding knives.

He'd known that Andrew had got him armbands exactly like his own, but it had never occurred to Neil that it might go down to such a fine detail - though, in hindsight, the sheaths are a key feature of Andrew's armbands, so of course they would be replicated in Neil's own.

Neil makes a second attempt at sliding his armbands on, this time somewhat successfully, though only after twisting them round and round until he found a place where the knives could sit comfortably against his forearm. It was a strange feeling to have cool metal pressed against his flesh, but Neil was sure he'd get used to it with time. There was no way he couldn't, really, because now that they were there, Andrew probably wouldn't let him get away with sneaking them out.

He had relented to Andrew's demands of him at least owning a knife a few months ago, buying the least lethal-looking set he could find, and burying them in the bottom of Andrew's underwear drawer. Andrew knew they were there - of course he did - but he had let it go, rightly assuming that Neil would move them when he was comfortable doing so.

Which Neil had done: they now lived at the bottom of his own underwear drawer, which was a small victory. A baby step; only somewhat in the right direction, but certainly not the wrong one, and that had been that for a month now.

The stiff feeling, one which Neil had assumed must be unpleasant for Andrew to deal with constantly, quickly becomes comforting, he finds as he locks the dorm door behind him. Neil is determined to believe it's not because it feels like Andrew's protecting him even though he's not by Neil's side, but he knows, if subconsciously, that it's the truth.

Junkie.

Neil doesn't bring the knives up with Andrew; Andrew doesn't bring the knives up with Neil. For the first few days after Andrew put them there, he checks the knives haven't moved from their places through casual movements that onlookers would assume either friendly or violent, depending where it landed on the scale. Sometimes it would be a tug of the wrist to guide Neil one way or another, involving Andrew's fingers sliding over Neil's forearm to feel the ridge of the knife. Others, a slap on the wrist if Neil was particularly annoying, always looking harder than they felt. Always just to check that Neil was keeping himself safe.