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Of Dragons and Textbooks

Summary:

Ah, a tale as old as time. Two roommates who love each other but don't want to make it awkward. Sure hope Aymeric doesn't have a mental breakdown when he realizes graduation is coming and he's terrified of not hanging out with Estinien every day anymore. Hehe.

Estinien POV the whole way through, and just absolutely tooth-rottingly fluffy. Enjoy!

Notes:

I keep telling myself I need to work on a request and on finishing my other fics but I just can not stop writing these two I am possessed.

Work Text:

Estinien rubs his eyes with a quiet groan. The tiny print in his med law textbook is finally getting to him. Leaning his chair back on two legs and stretching his spine out, he grabs his phone to check the time. 10:04. He’s been studying almost 2 hours now. He’d planned on taking up the whole morning before his 10:30 class to study for his exam tomorrow, but perhaps a short break is in order.

God, if premed is like this, what’s med school going to be like?

With a sigh, Estinien straightens and swipes all his possessions off the library table into his beat-up messenger bag and heads to the vending machine outside the library to grab an energy drink. The can clunks immediately to the bottom after he slams the button for the cheapest one. They all taste like piss, anyway.

Estinien cracks the tab open as he walks, wincing as the cold metal clinks against his snakebite rings with the first sip. Maybe he should switch back to the studs.

Then again…Aymeric had said they looked great. Though on third thought, his roommate tends to have the fashion sense of a slightly rebellious 80-year-old man. It took nearly an hour of Estinien’s wheedling for him to try on skinny jeans for the first time. But now look at him, skinny jeans and converse every day. Though he still insists on his sweater-with-collared-shirt-underneath look for the top-half.

Whatever, it’s…charming.

His greatest victory, however, over Aymeric’s appearance is still that little sapphire stud in his left ear. It still fills him with satisfaction whenever it glints in the sun or the prelaw dork comes bursting happily into the apartment with a tale of another compliment.

To be fair, Aymeric had returned the favor by showing Estinien how to put his long hair into a higher ponytail rather than keeping it tied sloppily low at his neck. He had to admit it to the prep, it did look better. So perhaps he’s not hopeless after all.

Speaking of the devil (or the infuriatingly perfect angel, as the case may be); Estinien spots his roommate talking to who he thinks are Lucia and Handeloup. Aymeric’s fellow bleeding hearts seem to be trying to coerce him to help out at some volunteer bullshit in the evening. But Estinien can spot Aymeric’s dark circles from this distance even as he laughs weakly and opens his mouth to accept.

“He can’t, he promised he’d help me study for my med law exam tonight,” Estinien butts in as he walks up to the group. He takes another sip from his can and looks pointedly at Aymeric over the rim.

The man blinks in surprise before offering him a relieved smile and saying, “Oh, ah, yes, that’s right. I’d nearly forgotten.”

Estinien doesn’t usually give a shit what people think of his “draconic-punk” aesthetic, as Aymeric fondly calls it. But on occasion it does work to his advantage. For instance, even the smallest of glares silences the arguments Lucia and Handeloup had just been preparing. Maybe it’s the steel-toed boots. Or the piercings. Or the dragoon tattoo wound around his bicep. Who’s to say, really?

After some muttered farewells, the two go on their way and Aymeric turns his smile on Estinien once more.

“Don’t mention it,” he grumbles into his can of sweet donkey piss. “I’ve just noticed you’ve had a lot of events this week is all. Take a goddamned break for once.”

“Yes, sir!” the prelaw student jokes.

The clock tower begins tolling the half hour.

“Fuck, I gotta go. See ya tonight, dweeb.”

Aymeric’s tittering is drowned out by the bells, but it still warms Estinien anyway as he starts jogging across campus.

The dork had been the first friend he’d made in college, and if he was being brutally honest with himself, the only one since. But Estinien’s on a mission, he doesn’t need friends.

He’s got to get to med school and then get hired somewhere where he can do research on the disease that killed his foster father. He doesn’t know the exact path forward, but the pieces are there and he has to ensure he collects all of them. Friends, however, are not one.

Except, perhaps, Aymeric.

Estinien’s applied to several med schools, searching for one that focuses on research and doesn’t care about his shitty bedside manner. Two acceptances but…both across the country from where Aymeric had already decided to study to become a lawyer for the good of the common people. Ishgard University.

It hurts, but what can Estinien do? He sent an application to the IU School of Medicine just for shits and giggles, but they’re way too prestigious for the likes of him. Also not like he could afford it even if he did by some miracle get accepted.

So he’s resigned to his fate. Give up Aymeric for his life goal. A bitter pill to swallow, but one he must down nevertheless.

They had met freshman year and became fast if unlikely friends. At first, Estinien had thought him to be just another pretty rich twink. But with time he saw him volunteering for hours upon hours without mentioning it once. He attended debates and city council meetings, he voraciously skimmed all information he could get his hands on about protecting human rights. He wanted to change the world, or at least the country.

Estinien soon grew to understand that if anyone could, it’d be Aymeric.

He also grew to understand he was catching feelings for the damn prude, and by the end of sophomore year he had fallen hard.

But hell if he’d risk their friendship over his fucking pining. Aymeric and his eternal light were the best things that had ever happened to Estinien.

And if Aymeric ever thought poorly of him during his resulting “slut phase”, trying desperately (and failing) to fill that empty space in his heart where Aymeric was supposed to go, well, he never let it show. Though he did admittedly seem happier when Estinien calmed down near middle junior year. Then again, Aymeric’s always cheerful. Always ready to share his light.

With a depressed sigh, Estinien slumps down into a seat near the front of his neuroanatomy class.

Well, when has life ever been easy for him? Falling in love with the college roommate he’s destined to eventually grow apart from after graduation…that’s just par for the course.


That night, Aymeric appears in Estinien’s bedroom doorway. The door’s never closed, but he always knocks on the frame anyway to announce his presence. Ever the polite young gentleman.

Estinien glances up from the textbook spread in his lap and rolls his eyes, struggling not to crack a wry grin. He’s pretty sure that’s his worn t-shirt Aymeric’s all comfortable in as he pats his curls dry with a fluffy blue towel. The underground punk rock band “Seventh Umbral Calamity” doesn’t really seem Aymeric’s speed, but who’s Estinien to judge?

“Did you actually need help studying?” asks his roommate through a muffled yawn.

“No. You don’t have anything due tomorrow, right? Go take a nap and then watch a movie. Let me know what you choose.”

Estinien quickly looks down before he can be flash-grenaded by Aymeric’s answering smile. He needs his eyesight for studying, thank you very much.

About an hour later, Aymeric reappears with his gentle little knock. He does look better, his dark circles less prominent and his expression more at ease. “Movie time,” he chirps and Estinien battles to keep his heart from melting and making a mess inside his chest cavity. Aymeric goes to get everything set up while Estinien packs his bag for the morning and lays out some clothes. They’ve been known to fall asleep on the couch during movie nights before.

He's just realizing Aymeric never even told him what movie he’d chosen when he walks into their tiny living room and sees for himself.

DragonHeart.

Estinien narrows eyes at the menu screen of his own childhood favorite and then turns his accusatory look at Aymeric when he comes in with a bowl of popcorn.

“What? It’s been a while since we watched it,” his roommate responds cheekily. He must be trying to return the favor for Estinien saving him from himself. Fine. It is a masterpiece, after all.

103 glorious minutes later they say goodnight (how can you fall asleep during DragonHeart?) and head off to their respective rooms. Aymeric suddenly seems a little off, but maybe he’s still just tired. Hopefully he’ll take it easy tomorrow night and doesn’t have anything else important he has to attend over the weekend.

Fat chance of that, though.


However, the next day Estinien is certain something’s wrong and it’s not just exhaustion. Aymeric looks…haunted at breakfast and even more so at lunch. He doesn’t come back after his last class of the day and Estinien tries not to let it worry him, especially when his “you ok?” texts go unanswered.

Aymeric’s been known to get roped into last-minute events or projects from time to time, he tells himself. It’s probably nothing.

Well.

Estinien’s just considering going on a manhunt around 11:30 when the keys at last sound in the front door.

“All right, bud, go get some rest.”

“What the fuck?” says Estinien as he takes in the scene in the doorway. This is a sight he never even considered to never think he’d see. Aymeric, quite obviously smashed being carefully ushered through the door by their mutual friend Haurchefant of all people. The party animal. That seems more sober than Aymeric.

“He just showed up at the bar and ordered like, three shots off the bat. I forgot it was Thursday and joined in,” laughs Haurchefant like he doesn’t have a presentation he’d been complaining about for weeks next morning. While he’s explaining, Estinien registers that Aymeric is just standing in the hallway, stock still, hands clasped, face a little flushed. “He was there to get. Fucked. Up. I respect the grind.”

Massaging his temples, Estinien grinds out himself, “Thanks for helping him home. Be safe back to yours.”

“Yah, man, have a good night.” Haurchefant is so easy to get along with, it’s no surprise he even convinced Estinien to get along with him. He’s a poli sci major, planning on becoming a leader of the nation. He’s maybe a little too carefree for Estinien to be comfortable with that prospect but…whatever. That’s a future Estinien problem. His current problem is his perfect, straight-A student roommate standing beside him and seemingly concentrating on staying upright.

He's a notorious lightweight, probably because he didn’t start drinking until his 21st birthday. The goody two shoes. Though…that was a fun night. Up to the point where the birthday boy had to hug the toilet for the rest of the time. Estinien was there to awkwardly pat his back, no matter how many times Aymeric begged him to just go back to the party and enjoy himself.

“This is literally the drunkest I’ve ever seen you. On a Thursday, no less,” Estinien tells him, fishing for an explanation.

“I am not drunk,” Aymeric responds in a controlled, perfectly even voice. It could be considered convincing if he wasn’t staring so hard at the wall in concentration to get it out.

“Are you going to be able to make it to class tomorrow?”

In response, Aymeric walks very slowly and carefully to the kitchen and downs two glasses of water. He gives Estinien a thumbs-up then walks very slowly and carefully to the sofa before flopping down and falling asleep immediately.

While he doesn’t seem to actually be in the danger zone, there’s no way Estinien’s leaving him unsupervised. So he tosses one of their throw blankets (the snowflake one Aymeric had insisted on last Christmas) over the two of them and turns on something quiet on the TV to fall asleep to.

He finds himself waking every two hours or so just to make sure Aymeric is still…okay. But the guy sleeps like a rock the whole night, and eventually Estinien lets it go and allows himself to fall into a deeper sleep.


When he wakes in the morning, Aymeric is already gone. Upon checking his phone, Estinien sees a text from him about thirty minutes ago.

Sorry about last night.

Hope I didn’t say anything I’ll regret…

Estinien starts getting ready with one hand and tapping out a reply with the other, thanking the heavens for autocorrect.

You literally told me you weren’t drunk, gave me a thumbs up, and then passed out

I wish you would’ve said MORE you doofus

Is everything ok?

The “Aymeric’s typing” dots come up a few times before he just…doesn’t respond. It’s not like Aymeric has ever gotten his feelings hurt from Estinien calling him names—usually it makes him laugh. So it must be related to what’s been bothering him.

…Whatever. Estinien’s not the type to force help on people. Aymeric’s one of the wisest people he knows, he can figure out whatever’s bugging him on his own.

But over the course of the day, Estinien’s unease only grows and grows and grows until he’s decidedly ready to force help by evening. Especially when Aymeric comes home still a little distant and a little sad and…nearly shameful?

So Estinien grabs him by the back of the t-shirt (another indication that something’s terribly wrong…Aymeric wearing a t-shirt outside the apartment) before he can slink to his room. He throws him onto the couch before sitting next to him and gesturing to the two shot glasses he’d already poured on the coffee table.

And so Estinien’s plan begins.

This may not be the best method but…something is wrong with the man he’s been in love with for three goddamn years and he’s not a fucking psychologist and Aymeric’s tongue tends to get looser when he’s partaking.

In moderation.

So Estinien throws back a shot and Aymeric naturally follows. They slap their empty glasses down by the new bottle of cheap vodka Estinien had bought for the occasion at the corner store. He waits about three minutes of awkward staring before asking.

“Gonna tell me why you got so shitfaced last night?”

Aymeric sighs, clearly having expected this, but he plays along anyway. Or maybe the alcohol is already affecting him…When’s the last time he ate? “It just…occurred to me is all.”

“What did?”

There’s the sad looking away again, almost with guilt but not quite. Estinien makes a gruff prompting sound.

His roommate finally murmurs, so quiet he can hardly hear, “Because this is going to end.” His gorgeous blue eyes are alarmingly wet when they drop down to stare at his folded hands.

“What is?” Estinien prods, jostling him with his knee to bring him out of whatever dark place he’d just slipped into.

“We’re…I’m…Graduation is…We’re not going to be roommates anymore. Or even…see each other.”

Aymeric may as well have found the arrow in Estinien’s heart and given it a good yank. He should be the one in tears about this, not Aymeric. He has no right to look this sad when Estinien’s the one suffering. But Aymeric has always been a sensitive little do-gooder, maybe he’s suffering the same, just in a different way. But it all doesn’t matter. Estinien just can’t bear to see him this depressed.

Estinien takes another shot and tops Aymeric off while he’s at it, mulling over what he can even say in this situation.

Aymeric stares down at the shot glass thrust into his hands and fucking sniffles.

Very quickly and without thinking it through at all, Estinien takes both their cups, slams them on the table, and yanks Aymeric in for a hug. They’ve never really been the type of friends that hug, but then again Aymeric’s never cried in front of him, either.

He’s not good with words, but he’s always tried to let his actions speak for him. So he just…turns on a movie and flips Aymeric around so he can see, keeping him in his arms after tucking that fluffy snowflake blanket over them.

This position also means his roommate is nestled between his legs, but he keeps his mind very carefully away from that fact. Aymeric needs comfort right now, not a boner poking him in the ass. He sniffs once or twice more, but eventually settles down as the movie distracts him, sinking deeper against Estinien.

It’s…dangerously comfortable. Domestic.

Estinien’s mind wanders as the first random romcom he’d seen on the list begins to play in the background. Does it really affect Aymeric that much that they’re moving away from each other? It’s admittedly a relief that he’s not alone in the absolute terror of parting, but…losing a friend is not nearly as bad as losing the object of your near-obsessive first love, right? Especially when you have as many friends as Aymeric does.

Wait…

Is there a chance? A miniscule, tiny chance that…?

Estinien gently turns Aymeric’s face around, staring into his still-misty eyes. He’s probably tipsy still. Still a little…vulnerable.

It’s admittedly kind of a dick move to take advantage of him like this, but this is important.

“Why are you sad, exactly?”

“We’re not going to see each other every day anymore. Or possibly much at all,” he repeats his earlier sentiment.

“You’ll make new friends in law school, right?” He winces at how harsh it sounds and wishes he took the time to workshop the words better. But he has to settle this hunch before it’s too late.

Aymeric winces, too, and his tears threaten to fall again.

“Is that what you’ll do?” Aymeric asks with a trembling voice. “Just make new friends and forget about me?”

Estinien really should have his ability to speak taken away.

“That’s not what I mean, ‘Meric…”

“Well, what did you mean?” Another little sniffle that practically rends his heart in two.

Estinien closes his eyes for a moment and takes a shuddering breath. Aymeric is warm in his arms. Cuddled up like he’s meant to be here. “I meant to clarify…are we just friends?”

“Best friends,” Aymeric corrects wetly. But a hint of that not-quite-shame is back and it makes Estinien’s stomach clench with apprehension that perhaps his hypothesis is right. So good apprehension, he thinks…he hopes.

“Nothing but friendly feelings between us then, yeah?” he asks with forced lightness that he sure as hell doesn’t feel.

But then Aymeric just crumbles and the tears start falling in earnest now and oooooh fuck he’s fucked up he’s fucked up fix it Estinien you fucking idiot fix i—

“I love you, Estinien, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I love you and have loved you for so long and now we’re going to move away from each other after graduation and it fucking sucks that I was too cowardly to tell you because I didn’t want to mess up our friendship and make living together awkward but now I’m really regretting it and I’ve realized I really screwed up and it’s too late and I at least should have tried beca—”

Estinien leans forward and claps a hand over Aymeric’s running mouth, nearly out of air himself from listening to the world’s longest run-on sentence that…

Aymeric loves him.

Aymeric loves him.

“I love you too, so please take a breath and stop crying.”

Aymeric stares at him with wide, watery eyes, inhaling raggedly as requested once Estinien removes his hand cautiously.

“What? Me?”

“Yes, you.” He resists the urge to roll his eyes. It’s a strong one, but he prevails because there’s more important things to do right now. Like talk. “I…I was in the same boat, not wanting to ruin the friendship, but…well…here we are,” he forces out awkwardly. God, that’s excruciating. But he has to forge on because there’s a light at the end of the tunnel and it’s the glimmering, shining fact that they are both dumbasses that have just realized they’re both dumbasses.

Aymeric’s crying even harder now but they kinda look like happy tears. Under the blanket, Estinien feels shaky hands grip the wrists of his sweatshirt. He takes them in his own instead and uses the leverage to pull Aymeric closer, kissing those tears away frantically.

They kinda taste like “fuck we’re dumbasses and have wasted a fuckton of time” tears.

Eyelids, cheeks, hesitantly…lips. With a muffled whimper that does…very impure things to Estinien, Aymeric smushes theirs mouths together tighter, turning a gentle kiss into a more desperate one.

Aymeric’s hands slip from his to his sweatshirt again, this time clinging to the front and dragging them closer still. Estinien groans into his mouth in mortification as his roommate’s hip brushes against the erection he’d been fighting to stave off.

Aymeric’s breath hitches, very clearly recognizing the feeling.

Estinien’s about to apologize before one of the hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt goes to curiously palm him through his sweatpants and his soul leaves his body.

When it returns, he gathers all his willpower and forces a scant inch between them.

“Hey, hey, Aymeric, do you still have alcohol in your system? I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret,” he rasps out, remembering Aymeric’s text from this morning.

With a sudden fire in his eyes, Aymeric responds with fervor, “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?”

Estinien swallows, throat suddenly quite dry. Intended to be rhetorical or not, he needs to know the answer to that question. “How many times?”

“Nearly every night. Sometimes I couldn’t even study. My GPA is a 3.95 because of you.”

Estinien wheezes out a laugh and a “nerd” before he’s being kissed again. Aymeric’s clumsy but his desperation is just overwhelming Estinien until he can only cling dizzily to his sanity and return the sentiment.

“Thought about what exactly?” asks Estinien through the haze building in his head once they finally part for breath.

Aymeric blushes up to his ears. “T-taking you.”

Oh lord.

Oh god.

He’s not going to survive this.

“Uh…” he responds eloquently, and Aymeric flushes deeper to a strawberry pink.

“If you’re not into it…”

Just so Aymeric doesn’t get the wrong idea in his pretty head for even a millisecond, Estinien grabs his hips and grinds his cock against him once more, not too hard but enough to convey his meaning. Aymeric fucking whimpers again and Estinien is simply going to have to devour him. It’s just the only option. Sorry, he doesn’t make the rules.

When he’s remembered how to speak again, he says, “I am very into it. But…tonight? Are you okay going so fast?”

“I think we’re going too slow,” he responds matter-of-factly.

Estinien then allows himself to be stripped of his sweater. He doesn’t have anything underneath, which Aymeric evidently wasn’t expecting if his little gasp is anything to go by.

But Estinien is still processing. He’s having a fucking out of body experience. He wishes he wasn’t, because it’s a little hard to enjoy watching Aymeric shuck off his own t-shirt from this angle.

He forces his mouth to work remotely.

“Just to be clear…you want me to fuck you? Tonight?”

Aymeric nods so fast his lovely curls bounce.

“Holy shit,” wheezes Estinien, returning to himself to grab at the man practically sitting on his lap at this point. “You’re literally a wet dream. I’m going to wake up soon and be so fucking embarrassed.”

“Better hurry then,” Aymeric has the audacity to say. The low chuckle at his own joke is interrupted when Estinien throws him bodily onto the couch and lands on top of him, kissing him again while he works off those tight skinny jeans, regretting being the reason he’s wearing them.

They’re so tight, in fact, that Aymeric’s briefs just come down with them. Aymeric makes an overwhelmed sound when Estinien’s hand meets his own hard cock for the first time while they work together to get the damned things off him.

Estinien throws them across the room peevishly before leaning back on his heels to enjoy everything recently revealed. Aymeric covers his face, burrowing a little deeper into the sofa under his gaze.

“Yours off, too,” he mutters through his hands, lightly kicking Estinien’s exposed stomach. He feels a roguish grin stretch across his face when he sees fingers spread just a bit and a flash of pretty blue eyes.

“Yes sir,” replies Estinien, hooking his thumbs in the waistbands of sweatpants and boxers alike. The choking sound that Aymeric makes once he completely undresses himself goes straight to his dick.

“Wh-when did you get those?” he utters, hands completely dropped as he leans up in shock. Maybe to get a closer look.

“Oh yeah…January last year,” Estinien says with a smirk. He obligingly lifts his cock a little more to further expose the five barbells in a neat line up the underside. All this shock and awe finally makes him quite glad he’d decided to get them. No one else had ever been so excited or…a little wild-eyed.

Estinien nestles himself between Aymeric’s legs once more and leans forward to shut his poor embarrassed roommate’s mouth for him, followed quickly by a brief kiss. Watching him wax yet a deeper crimson, Estinien decides to take pity on him.

“Turn on your stomach,” he suggests. Though in hindsight perhaps it sounded more like a command, because Aymeric obeys beautifully and without question and fuck Estinien should be questioning why he finds that so incredibly hot.

Along with the heady rush of being…well, presented to, an important question suddenly comes to mind.

“Have you done this before?” he asks, lightly resting his hands on the backs of those gorgeous thighs and watching them tremble at the contact.

“Toys,” Aymeric mutters with his face pressed into the blanket.

Estinien’s fingers dig deeper into the flesh of Aymeric’s thighs without meaning to at the response. Had Aymeric ever fucked himself while he was home? Just a single wall separated their bedrooms…He’d have to keep quiet…Estinien groans aloud at the thought alone.

“Where’s your lube?” he asks through grit teeth once he jerks himself to the present again.

“Top beside drawer…”

“Stay here,” growls Estinien, releasing Aymeric somewhat reluctantly before vaulting over the side of the couch.

He doesn’t step into Aymeric’s room too often—usually just to summon him for movie night or dinner. Or a break. So it takes him a moment to step around the bed, locate the stack of drawers by it, yank open the top one, and…

Good fucking lord.

There’s two bottles of lube neatly laid to one side, one unopened and one nearly empty. Estinien grabs the well-used one and takes a moment to snoop. Everything’s relatively small and tame, only around four toys total. Even his sex drawer is spotless and organized, nothing in excess.

Though it is almost jarring fitting this with the image of his pure and righteous roommate. Whom he’s left waiting far too long.

Still, it’s a shame Aymeric’s first time won’t be more…vanilla. Though he didn’t seem too worried about that fact when he was ogling his Jacob’s ladder.

Aymeric’s waiting just where he left him when he returns, gasping when Estinien sits full on the backs of his thighs this time. He wriggles impatiently with a quiet, embarrassed sigh while Estinien unscrews the bottle, so without much further ado, Estinien pours lube liberally over his fingers and presses one tentatively inside.

Aymeric moans loud and jolts, kept in place only by Estinien’s weight, bunching the blanket under him and hugging onto it for dear life. Estinien holds one hip with his free hand to pin him further as he strokes him carefully inside. Petting and soothing, inside and out until Aymeric is whining desperately for more.

On the second finger, a few times he pleads for Estinien to slow down. “I’m close, I don’t want to…!” he begs so prettily, and Estinien wishes he could see his face. Still, the chance to take his love apart like this, piece by piece…it’s thrilling. Everything.

It means everything he’s been given this opportunity.

Estinien distantly wonders if Aymeric can tell the absolute mess he’s making on the back of his thigh, his cock resting there and leaking precum.

“You want it now?” Estinien asks after he’s stretched him up to three fingers, gingerly testing the resistance of his rim with the pad of a fourth. He’s not the largest of guys, but with this being Aymeric’s first time and after seeing what he’s been practicing on…well…

“Please,” he answers, voice cracked with how he’s abused it whining and moaning and begging. “Ah, wait…”

Oh, of course he’d be concerned. Ever-prudent Aymeric. Good thing at least one of them is thinking clearly.

“I haven’t done anything since I last got tested, I still have the results in my email if you need to see…But I also have some condoms in my room,” Estinien starts getting off the couch once more before a hand grabs his forearm tightly.

“I was—I was just going to turn over,” Aymeric mutters, face absolutely fiery now, the blush spreading even down to his shoulders as he shifts from under Estinien’s legs to lay on his back once more. “I—I trust you, Estinien.”

Estinien stares at him, transfixed.

How can the human heart feel so full? Surely, he’ll die with this must pressure in his chest.

But then Aymeric shyly hooks one ankle on his shoulder and, well…instincts more or less kick in. Pouring more lube into his palm, Estinien slicks himself and lines up. He notes Aymeric’s breathing quickening before his own heartbeat gets a little too loud to hear it over.

Seems like both their eyes slide closed as Estinien nudges just the head in. But then he forces his eyes back open. He has to memorize every moment of this. How Aymeric’s lashes flutter, how his brows draw up and his lips part.

Fuck!” Aymeric nearly sobs as Estinien eases in another inch and the first piercing stimulates his rim.

Two, three, Estinien’s sweating and Aymeric is writhing.

Four, they’re both panting in tune with each other. Estinien gets the feeling anything more may simply be too much, so he begins working with the depth they’ve gotten to and nothing further.

The drag in and out is almost mind-numbing. Aymeric is returning the favor of Estinien’s death-grip on his hips with a strangle-hold of his shoulders. His legs dropped to wrap around Estinien’s waist, ankles digging into the small of his back.

After fingering him so long, Estinien had started to get a feeling for when Aymeric was getting dangerously close and uses the information to his advantage, slowing when needed.

Though even getting fucked for the first time, not much goes over Aymeric’s head. “You’re holding out on me,” he gasps raggedly the third time Estinien eases off.

“Are you saying you’re not enjoying it?” he returns smugly, though the effect is somewhat lost in the strain of his voice as he sinks back deep as he dares.

“I want all of you,” Aymeric demands breathily. “You said you’d f-ah!-fuck me.”

“I know you’re new to all of this, but I’m pretty sure this right here is considered fucking.”

Fingers drift from his shoulder to tangle in long hair and yank in retaliation. Which is definitely deserved, but also sends a hot flash down the entirety of Estinien’s spine.

Accepting that Aymeric will win this argument as he does all others, Estinien decides to chase that heat and just give them both what they apparently want.

“You asked for it,” he warns as he slides his hands up to Aymeric’s shoulders rather than his hips and utilizes the hold to thrust the final rung of his ladder into him. He hilts a split second later and nearly collapses at the filthy moan he had just wrought from Aymeric.

“Fucking hell,” Estinien grunts and does everything he can to hear that sound again.

Which, who would’ve guessed, is fucking him into the mattress like their lives depend on it. Now, these are tears Estinien would gladly enjoy see rolling down Aymeric’s cheeks.

“Estinien,” he sobs out, nails raking down his back. It fills Estinien with pride and joy and all that other lovely shit that slowly builds in his stomach until he realizes with another thrust that his time is nearing. He needs to make sure Aymeric finishes before him…

That needn’t have been too much of a concern, evidently, because as soon as Estinien grabs that pretty cock bobbing in front of him and gives it two thrusts Aymeric is spilling over his hand with a strangled cry, clenching around him.

Taken completely off guard, Estinien grunts and turns an aborted withdrawal into a deep thrust, unabashedly filling Aymeric to the brim. In yet another link to this heady chain of events, Aymeric gives one last obscene moan at the feeling and Estinien just gives up and falls upon him to kiss him senseless.

He lifts back up an inch to appraise Aymeric. Flushed red, blue eyes hazy with pleasure, pink lips swollen.

A job well done.

Estinien’s heart swells with pride once more as they smile at each other.

“I did not think this through…” The pressure change in Estinien’s chest from those words is enough to make him feel nauseous. But then Aymeric continues with a pout, “This is going to make a mess no matter how we go about it…”

Estinien releases the breath he’d been holding with a woosh, knocking his head against Aymeric’s with a relieved laugh.

It is definitely a mess. They decide to sacrifice the snowflake blanket for the sake of keeping the rest of the couch safe. It was due for a wash anyway. After it’s thrown into the hamper, Estinien ushers Aymeric to the bathroom to take a hot shower together.

And, once they’re dried and dressed, Aymeric shyly drags him to his room.

They’re both passed out in each other’s arms within seconds.


It’s Saturday morning, and Estinien and Aymeric are on the couch, drinking their coffee together as usual. It’s the old cliché, similar but different.

Aymeric still makes coffee better than him. But the difference is that he doesn’t have to lie to himself that it’s why this weekend ritual is so important to him.

They’re still on the sofa, watching a shitty movie. But now Aymeric is cuddled up between his legs. He can touch him. Draw him closer and tuck his chin over his shoulder, press their cheeks together, nuzzle into silky black curls. Feel Aymeric’s happy sigh vibrating against his chest.

The movie’s almost ending before he knows it, and a silly throw-away line reminds Estinien of reality.

Aymeric pulled out the arrow in his heart, but the wound is still there. They’ve confessed to each other, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re likely going to be nearly a whole day’s travel away from each other. And probably different time zones to boot.

The credits roll.

Aymeric presses a chaste kiss to his lips before taking their cups to wash them, unaware of his inner turmoil. Estinien decides he needs some fresh air, and may as well grab the mail.

Nothing too much, mostly addressed to Aymeric. Estinien sorts as he walks back to the apartment. Ah, here’s his rejection letter from Ishard University. As if his dour thoughts manifested it.

Pretty thick for a rejection. They must be long-winded in why they don’t want him.

Estinien locks the door behind him, setting Aymeric’s mail in the little folder they have nailed to the wall. He tears open his rejection letter, wishing to rip off the band aid and just get on with his weekend.

Oh…it’s an acceptance.

Well.

He still can’t afford it.

He flips with disinterest through his other envelopes.

Another letter from IU?

Oh…a scholarship.

Enough to make up the difference between IU’s tuition and that of the other schools he was looking at. Maybe even a little to spare, though not much.

“Hey, you alright?”

Estinien looks up to see Aymeric in the doorway from the kitchen.

His eyes suddenly start stinging. Damn allergies.

“Yeah. I’m fine. So, uh. You wanna research some apartments near IU together today?”