Chapter Text
Aerion broke up with Duncan on June 12th.
He did it out in the unforgiving heat, right in front of his father's summer villa, whilst everyone was out in the pool. After being chased by Egg for a good twenty minutes with water guns, they were both too dizzy and exhausted to understand each other. Duncan could make out only a couple of words—the only ones that mattered.
It's the height of summer, warmth and light are in, and boyfriends are out. No matter how sweet or how tall. Aerion liked his summers full of freedom, especially since they always spent them wherever Maekar's newest properties were.
Whether it be Italy, France, Spain, whatever, Aerion always found someone to spend the hottest season with.
The villa in Barcelona was not new, but it was easily everyone's favorite. Egg's favorite, to be specific. He had begged their father to let the nanny come along. Manny, Aerion mockingly called Dunk. Man nanny wasn't too far off, and Dunk didn't take any offense to it.
It was the first time they had agreed on something, even if it was about the most infuriating man in the house, who wasn't even a family member.
"…Break up…For the best…" Duncan's head spun, the heat made everything impossible to comprehend.
Aerion stood with his hands on his hips. His belly button piercing poked through the thin fabric of his gingham one-piece, the edges covered in the lace that was stained by shimmering tanning gel. Aerion did not tan, but he did enjoy torturing Duncan. He could practically feel his eyes on him, watching as he smoothed the gel over his legs.
It was Duncan's favorite swimsuit, even if it showed the least skin. Aerion never knew why. He thought Duncan was an odd man, unlike any he had ever dated before. He sure was whipped into shape, without a doubt.
It made him undeniably jealous of whoever had Duncan last—until Duncan admitted that Aerion was his first—first everything.
He was so cute. Aerion almost felt bad.
"Are you even listening to me, Duncan?" Three snaps were enough to bring Dunk's eyes back to Aerion's.
"Ah— Yes— I mean—"
"Good, so you understand, right? I knew you would be understanding."
"What? No! I don't want to—"
"Thanks again, I hope we can still be friends." Aerion pecked a kiss onto Duncan's neck, a pathetic attempt at a kiss to the cheek he could never reach.
It was that simple.
Aerion broke up with Duncan on June 12th.
It was now June 24th, just two weeks after. Duncan was at some club in Barcelona, the stupid bastard, he was for forgetting to delete Life360 off his phone. Stupid enough to think—to not know Aerion well enough to assume he wouldn't stalk his location all summer long.
It only got bad when Aerion suspected something between Duncan and Valarr. He watched them giggle together in the kitchen, sitting too close for comfort. His eyebrows twitched every time their knees bumped together, Valarr apologizing in that pretty tone of his. He could bat his eyelashes at Duncan all he'd like, but Aerion knew that Duncan would be back to texting him later that night. Begging for just one word. He was confident.
Maybe too confident.
Valarr was nowhere to be found that night, and Egg had begrudgingly informed Aerion that Duncan certainly wasn't alone at that club.
What business did Valarr have with Duncan anyway? That goodie two-shoes spent all day in his nerdy books and always complained about Duncan's boots bringing mud inside. The complete 180 was absurd, seemingly so, until Aerion began coming up with answers just as ridiculous. At least, that's what Daeron said, but he'd defend Valarr like Valarr saved his entire bloodline if he had to.
"It's not ridiculous." Aerion threw a 3-foot-tall, weighted dragon plushie at Daeron from his bed, one that Daeron won him at a fair a few summers back. It was his favorite thing, even if Daeron spilled his martini on it. It would forever smell of vodka and cotton candy.
"You think that Valarr waited all this time for you and Duncan to break up, just so he can have Duncan all to himself…so he can get back at you?"
"Yes, exactly that."
"Ridiculous."
"Get the hell out of my room!" Aerion's eyebrow twitched, and he tugs his dragon back.
"And do what? There's nothing to do here. I can't go out, or I'll get a talking-to."
"That's not my problem. Out."
"…Oh, look! Valarr just posted on his story." Daeron's phone lights up the room; it's the strongest source of light because Daeron put his brightness up to the max, and Aerion would rather kill himself than turn on the big light.
Valarr had an Instagram account so private that Aerion had only learned about its existence just a month prior. He requested to follow it, but Valarr declined.
That bitch.
"Stay." Aerion lays his hand out; neat and long fingernails look like they're about to pry the phone off of Daeron at any minute. It's a tiny iPhone 10, on its last few charges until it looked like it would explode.
Daeron doesn't even instruct him to say please anymore. He just drops the phone in his hand and goes back to Aerion's desk, messing around with his stuff.
Aerion hated it when people messed with what was his, and every relationship had its own unspoken rules. Theirs to be that Duncan was still his, now and until the end of time.
In the Instagram story, Duncan is pressed behind Valarr; they're dancing—if anyone would even call it dancing. Aerion could only imagine calling it public indecency.
Valarr's cheeks are all rosy; his smile is the widest he's ever seen. Seconds later, he guides Duncan's hands to his waist, and the story cuts out. Aerion is left staring at the Instagram account, unsure if he's ready to spam report it or to put his clothes on and beat the shit out of Valarr himself. The second option is promising, but he isn't looking to ruin his summer with only one assumption. He's ready to keep it at the back of his mind, however.
"That bitch!" He screams.
It's almost like he blacks out, because the next thing he knows, he ends a message from Daeron's account without even realizing.
[11:42] ddaaeronn: get the fuck away from him?????
[12:10] princevalarr23: lol no
[12:10] ddaaeronn: what do you mean no
[12:10] ddaaeronn: i said get away from him.
[12:12] princevalarr23: r yoa durnk?? it's okay iam tooo
[12:14] princevalarr23: duncan is soooooo cute
"Doesn't he have some jazz club to be at? Maybe he got kicked out for grinding on other people's boyfriends there too—or, ex-boyfriends," but that was the least important thing.
"Why does this even matter again? You said you didn't even like Duncan that much."
"When did I say that?"
"When I had to stop you from drunk-texting him back." Daeron shrugged.
"That doesn't matter. It's the principle that matters, Daeron."
"What principle?"
"The don't-fuck-your-cousin's-ex-boyfriend principle!" Aerion snaps, getting ready to throw something at Daeron again before he realizes that the only thing he has is Daeron's ancient phone—and it can't take another hit.
"Well, it's a good thing they're just dancing!" Daeron finally snatches his phone back, and that's probably the best bet for both of them.
His eyes widen as he reads the dm, bursting out into a chaos of laughter. As if anything is funny.
"None of this is a laughing matter. Quit your laughing before I beat the shit out of you."
"I can't believe it, he's actually into Dunk!" Daeron cackles, rocking back and forth in Aerion's chair.
"I can believe it. You've flirted with Dunk before, too. You're all unloyal!"
"You can't blame any of us, Aerion. Dunk's cute. Besides, that was before I knew you two were so crazy for each other."
"Get the hell out of my room, Daeron."