Chapter Text
Perhaps, if someone was handing out cash for "World's Most Bored Motherfucker" Avery would be rolling in it right now. Like, buy-a-private-island rich.
Derek and Hastur had stopped bothering himfor good. Hastur straight up vanished into thin air, while Derek replied dryly and curtly, like an employer trying to brush off an unwanted candidate. And by some cruel irony, it was the absence of the two guys and their attention that became the key to this unbearable boredom.
Those two idiots, each in their own way, irritated him to no end, but damn if they didn't make life feel more...Brighter, full, bearable? In other words, it was less like a slow death in four walls'n beige wallpaper
And now? He had thought that by getting rid of those walking red flags he'd caught feelings for, by taking his revenge, he would feel relief. Relief from unrequited feelings – for both idiots, no less – but instead, everything had only gotten worse. He felt like a lonely, abandoned wife in a polyamorous marriage, waiting for her good-for-nothing husbands to come home from "work." Except without the work part, of course.
Hastur wasn't answering calls or texts, and after that night Derek wrote so coldly it was as if nothing had ever happened between them whatsoever.
— «Did I really choose all this for nothing...?» Avery muttered quietly, staring at the crumpled package on the floor.
He sighed dejectedly and, rising from the bed, stretched. At last, the dull ache in his lower back had faded, leaving behind only a slight reminder when he was walking. Avery rarely considered just how easy it was to take him out of commission, and how readily his body surrendered to those two, It practically folded like a cheap lawn chair...
— «Fuck it, might as well try this shit on...» Another series of sighs escaped him, accompanied by the soft rustle of fabric sliding over his skin.
The black lace lingerie glided over his skin with unexpected tenderness. The panties, adorned with satin bows, hugged his hips and ass snugly, like they were custom-made for sin. The fabric was soft, almost weightless, yet provocatively seductive, lavishly trimmed with luxurious lace everywhere. But the main detail was the small golden flowers embroidered on the dark material – something for the eye to catch on, not just the wearer's curves.
The moment Avery had seen the set, he had immediately saved it for better times in his cart. And perhaps those times had come. The stagnation in their strange "relationship" needed to be broken somehow, and this lingerie seemed like a small but important omen.
However, as soon as he started putting on the lingerie, his cheeks burned with embarrassment. The mirror in the middle of the room definitely wasn't helping. Avery sighed quietly. The silky fabric of the panties framed his thighs and ass perfectly, without fully covering them, leaving room for imagination. A lot of said "room"
Then he picked up the bra and put it on. That part wasn't too hard, unlike fastening it... The bra hooked together with difficulty – Avery fumbled with the clasps for a long time, cursing under his breath, but managed it in the end. The stockings, however, went on easily: the thin mesh slowly slid up his legs, beautifully hugging his calves. The fabric was sheer enough to intrigue, but not enough to reveal too much. A perfect balance.
While putting them on, Avery couldn't resist letting his gaze drift to the mirror, where it lingered far too long. Green hair, pale skin, black lace with golden accents… He looked unusually dolled-up and sultry. Seductive. Sexy. For a moment Avery allowed himself to imagine them walking into the room – the men from his most depraved dreams. How would their faces change? How would their eyes darken? How would they look at him in this lacy outfit? The trio never openly discussed their preferences and fetishes; there had never been any agreement. Everything had always been purely on impulse, without feelings or any sentiments.
It was that sobering thought that cut his arousal off at the root. Avery looked away, suddenly realizing with painful clarity what he had gotten himself into.
Avery looked away from the mirror, face blooming with red once again.
— «What the fuck am I even thinking?» – he said quietly.
And what exactly had he gotten into? And how had it all started, really?
He and Hastur had ended up at the same desk in literature class completely by chance. Avery still remembered that day: late autumn, gray light outside the window, and Hastur casually tossing his books and notebooks onto the desk likehe owned it. Avery accidentally bumped his elbow, and one of the books fell. When he leaned down to pick it up, their fingers brushed for a moment.
— «We're just like in a cheesy rom-com, right?» the guy said with a smirk, grabbing the book and slamming it back onto the desk with a loud thud.
Avery kept his fingers curled for several more seconds even though the book had already slipped from his grasp. Hastur laughed awkwardly, covering his mouth with his hand. Avery tensed. Now, the whole attention of the guy who hadn't even greeted him before, not even a "hi" in a damn hallway, was directed solely at him. All because of a damn book. Brilliant...
From that moment, Avery suddenly existed in Hastur's world, and the other way around. At first only during lessons – whispering about how much time was left until the bell, arguing about nonsense, and coming up with a silly (or sometimes cruel) nicknames for teachers. Avery would never forget the way Hastur's face lit up when he roasted the shit outta their bitchy math teacher. His standing in Hastur's eyes had skyrocketed then.
Later, both boys started hanging out after class in the empty clubroom. Hastur would smoke by the window, hiding the cigarette with his hands even if it might burn him, while Avery played lookout on the sill, watching his classmate and trying to understand why the low timbre of his voice alone sent shivers down his spine.
Over time, Avery realized it was no longer simple interest.
He began catching himself staring too long at his classmate's neck when he leaned over his notebook, at his fingers when he turned pages, at the way the muscles moved under his shirt when he took off his blazer. Avery got mad at himself, blushed at night, felt ashamed of his own thoughts… and still, every day, like a lunatic, sought out their encounters.
One late spring evening, after graduation, they ended up alone on the school roof. The night was warm, but Hastur still draped his fancy rich-boy jacket over the green-haired boy's shoulders. Avery only pressed closer into it like a wet bird on a wire.
Hastur stood near the edge, looking down, while Avery sat nearby, feeling his heart, which had dropped to his stomach, pounding furiously. He was just about to open his mouth when the blond suddenly interrupted him:
— «You're weird» Hastur said suddenly, without turning his head — «You look at me like you want to eat me. Or like you want me to eat you – I don't know which way you're leaning more...Still trying to figure this out, though»
Avery nearly choked on air. His cheeks burned red, his eyes blurred watered with tears, and the corners of them turned pink. He froze, unable to squeeze out a single sound. Had he really been that obvious?
Hastur, sensing the air grow heavy and taut around him, finally turned and saw his friend on the verge of tears. Something soft and guilty flickered in his eyes. Without another word, he abruptly pulled Avery to him, wrapping his strong arms around his shoulders. The younger man's body swayed helplessly against his chest, and Hastur, afraid of making things worse, began to rock him slightly, as if soothing a frightened cub.
«Hey, hey… Chill. Stay calm agree with your judge be on your best behavior, and come home to me. Come home to your soulmate» he whispered almost inaudibly, his lips nearly brushing Avery's temple. His hoarse voice dropped lower — «I was joking. I didn't mean anything bad... I'm... I'm just an idiot» he almost whispered the last part, and one had to strain to even hear it.
A large palm settled on the back of the green-haired boy's head, fingers gently threading through his hair, soothing him.
Avery didn’t answer. He just stood there, his face buried in the blond boy's shoulder, silent. His cheeks burned as if he'd been standing in the freezing cold for hours. His heart continued to pound, now very close to Hastur's own heart.
Avery thought with annoyance how it could even keep beating after such a terrible joke, but he pressed closer to King anyway, listening to his heartbeat. It was soothing. His hands moved on their own, as if against his will, slowly wandering down his back – first uncertainly, then a little bolder, feeling the firm muscles under the thin fabric of the shirt.
Hastur, sensing Avery's relief, only gave a quiet, short chuckle – gentle and affectionate – and they never returned to the topic again.
But it was after that night that Avery finally admitted to himself: he wanted Hastur. Not just as a friend. Not just as a fleeting, simple fling. He wanted him entirely – all of him. His voice that made him ready to wake up at three in the morning and accept any command or whim, those big hands on his ass possessively yet lovingly squeezing his cheeks, cold, piercing eyes that grew a little warmer only when they were alone and Hastur undressed him with his gaze, heedless of the "audience" around.
However, Hastur remained an enigma. Close, but never fully. He teased, drew closer, then pulled away again. And Avery, despite all his feelings, kept reaching for him – like a moth to a flame, fully aware he might get burned.
Then Derek crashed into the pictue… and everything became completely tangled. Derek had been his unremarkable classmate at university, and up to a certain point he risked remaining just that, but then he'd started taking the initiative in capturing Avery's heart.
Derek was the type who always sat somewhere in the middle of the auditorium, never pushing for the spotlight or drawing attention. Derek was… safe. Warm. Predictable. Reliable. Everything that Hastur lacked.
He started appearing nearby more and more often: helping with notes, bringing coffee before classes, or simply sitting silently beside him in the library and sharing the rare peace and tranquility.
Avery's heart had always been too soft. It was genuinely easy to melt – all it took was a little warmth, attention, and sincerity. And Derek gave all of that without games, without cold withdrawals or painful pauses. He was easy to read like a book. He was easy to fall for. Too easy.
Now Avery lived in a lingering tension: one part of his soul still burned from a single glance from Hastur, only to freeze over and cover with frost again, while the other thawed under Derek's quiet care. Two completely different people. Two opposite fires. And he, caught between them, no longer understood which flame he was drawn to more strongly.
With Hastur, he had had complicated, messy feelings since school. But he stubbornly kept communicating, trying to be all buddy-buddy with him – and didn't notice how a simple "want" had grown into a desire to possess this man entirely, in every sense. But now, Derek appeared on an improvised stage and destroyed Avery's newly established world. The hardest part was admitting to himself that the feelings, which had initially seemed like just sex, had put down roots far deeper.
The green-haired boy stood before the mirror for a few more minutes, looking at his reflection. The sight was both beautiful and pitiful... In the end, he let out a heavy sigh, threw an oversized t-shirt on top, grabbed his phone, and, not giving himself time to reconsider, video-called Hastur. His heart plummeted, and a prick of pride stung at that same heart – after all, Hastur could have written to him first, instead of being a jerk...
A few moments later, he finally deigned to answer.
The guy was sitting against the background of his parents house, hair disheveled. He clearly hadn't expected the call. And so, at the sight of Avery’s face on the screen, his eyebrow rose slightly.
— «Whoa» he said quietly, quickly fixing his hair — «Look who it is...»
— «Where are you dilly-dallying, asshole?» Avery asked, trying to sound calm, though it wasn't working very well. No answer, of course. Was he offended or something?
Avery licked his lips and tried again:
— «Look… if you come back today, I'll forgive you the rent for next month. Totally. Scout's honor. I swear»
Hastur smirked slightly at the corner of his mouth, but there wasn't a shadow of amusement in it. His furrowed brows and puffed-out offended cheeks gave him away completely.
— «You've never been a boy scout in your life, dumbass. Also, you seriously think this is about money?» Despite trying to keep his voice steady, the notes of hurt still broke through — «You know perfectly well why I'm not coming back, Avery» His eyes glistened with offense.
A long pause hung in the air.
Avery didn't answer with words. Instead, he slowly and playfully lifted the hem of his oversized t-shirt. The black lace with golden flowers and intricate swirls
'n patterns immediately caught the eye, beautifully hugging his hips and thighs. He turned slightly, giving Hastur a chance to examine the details.
Hastur's eyes darkened instantly.
For a few seconds he froze, staring greedily at the screen, regretting he couldn't step through it. The blond exhaled sharply through his teeth.
— «You little tease…» he almost growled.
Avery only smiled slyly in response. Hastur ran his tongue over his lower lip, then suddenly became serious. His voice dropped to a dangerous, velvety tone:
— «I'll come back. And when I do — I'll fuck you so hard you so stupid you won't be able to walk properly for a week. The sitting will be out of question. Got it, bitch?»
Without waiting for an answer, Hastur simply hung up. The screen went dark. Avery remained standing in the middle of the room with his t-shirt lifted, but he wasn't freezing, not when hot wave of hormones spread through his body – a mix of excitement, shame, and arousal. His poor heart was trying to escape his ribcage.
He exhaled quietly and whispered into the empty room:
— «I'm waiting…»
After the call with Hastur, Avery stood in the middle of the room for several more minutes, feeling a pleasant, aching excitement under his skin. The plan had begun to work.
He glanced at his phone, hesitated for a moment, then opened the chat with Derek. His fingers impatiently tapped the camera icon. Avery turned sideways to the mirror, lifted the hem of the oversized t-shirt, and took a few pics.
In the photo, he stood half-turned: the long shirt barely covered top of his thighs, and the black lace panties peeked seductively out from underneath. It should work perfectly – Der definitely wouldn't resist. Besides, it all looked as if "by accident" – just a friend showing off new clothes. Nothing special. Just a shirt...yeah...
Avery picked the coolest shot where the light softly fell on the lace and sent it to Derlord with an innocent caption:
Today, 16:52
Avery ㋡:
"hey. quickly tried it on in the fitting room and the ligght there was awfl...😵💫😵💫😵💫 did it turnl out okay? I feel like the miror makes me look uglier...Idk anymore, my eyes are blurry. Tell me honestly, oke? 🥲"
Today, 16:53
You:
[Photo]
Derek is typing...
Avery flopped back onto the bed, biting his lip, his heart was already pounding somewhere in his temples. He understood perfectly well that his attempt at "just showing clothes" had turned out extremely questionable – and maybe too obvious – the lace panties in the photo were still quite noticeable in the end of a day.
Anyway, less than a minute passed before the phone vibrated with an incoming message. That bum replied almost instantly.
Avery opened the chat and felt a hot wave run through his body. Derek was online. Excellent...
Today, 16:53
Derek:
"Are you serious?"
Today, 16:54
Derek:
"Avenue."
Today, 16:54
Derek:
"Aveny."
Today, 16:54
Derek:
"Avery*. Shit."
Today, 16:55
Derek:
"I'm coming over right now."
Today, 16:55
Avery ㋡:
"It's just a new t-shirt 🧐, no need to react like that, brochacho 😌"
Today, 16:55
Derek:
"Too late, "brochacho". Omw rn."
Derek went offline.
Today, 16:56
Avery ㋡:
"Stop with the dots fuckin idiot. I'm crine."
And so Avery.
Greenhead put the phone aside and stared at the ceiling, heart hammering like a drum solo.
He closed his eyes, just letting himself soak up that sweet, torturing thrill of anticipation. He knew the second that door opened, the quiet in here would be something the neighbors could only dream of.
And it seemed that was exactly what he wanted.