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A death message. Avery's hands hovered over the keyboard of the laptop, the screen's message burned into his eyes. His last tether to Derek had been severed. Derek was like sand— shifting between Avery's fingertips before he could get a firm grasp on him, slipping out of his hands and leaving him with nothing but grains of memories. Avery knew Derek as a concept— a knight; a hero; a saviour; a genius. Nothing more than a flat character. He knew nothing about his dreams, his ambitions. The mundane: what he liked for dinner; his favourite colour; whether he liked the summer or the winter. Avery couldn't even name the colour of his eyes. Were they brown? Green? Blue? Avery never got the chance to learn about him.
It wasn't fair.
Avery stayed still, squaring his shoulders and clenching his jaw, refusing to cry. Tears prickled at his waterlines like needles. Derek wasn't dead. No, he couldn't be. Avery stared at the screen, willing something to change.
His hand shook, curled around the mouse. The pointer on the screen inched slowly, over the respawn button. He clicked and entered the game once more.
An endless void, as if the world had been eaten away. Sky-blue, an infinite sky with no clear horizon nor end. It was entirely gone. Avery's character fell, health ticking down as he plunged. He spun around his camera, frantically searching for Derek in his descent— yet, he was nowhere to be found. He was met with nothing. His laptop's fans roared as they had been running for too long. Another death screen overtook the monitor.
Avery slammed it shut, his only light source gone. He curled up in his chair, pressing his knees against his chest. His body felt too warm; he felt every inch of his skin pressed against his clothing, sweater constricting him. His stomach churned, head spinning.
No, no, no.
Fireworks went off in the distance, whistling and crackling in colourful explosions. It was a new year. Avery crossed into the new year without Derek, losing him just before the clock struck twelve.
"You're okay Derek. It's going to be okay, I promise," Avery rambled, trying to will himself not to sob, trying to keep his voice stable. "You're okay. You're okay."
No response. Avery had no idea what he sounded like.
A red firework boomed, illuminating his window for a second. Then green, then yellow. Avery lifted his head, gazing at the vibrancy as they streaked across the black sky before fizzling out.
It was 2026, and Derek was gone. Disappeared, vanished. Avery didn't know whether he was dead or alive, and probably never would.
Finally, Avery cried. Thick, gloppy tears rolling down his cheeks and staining his sweater before he could catch them; an aching shivering that rocked his entire body as he wrapped his sleeved arms around himself.
Gone. He's gone. I couldn't save him.
Grief blended with self-loathing. If only he had tried harder, thought faster... then maybe he could've stopped Derek. He was never smart nor capable.
He's gone.
He's gone.
He's gone.
He's gone.
Avery's chest heaved, hands curled into tight fists that left indents of crescent moons on his palms from where his nails dug in.
He hugged his knees in closer, craving for the embrace of Derek. He couldn't love him as a person— only an idea. There was no face to his name, no body to hold. Avery squeezed his eyes shut, pretending his body heat was Derek's— he knew he was human, with a pulsing heart and warmth he could feel. That he knew for certain; that he could imagine with his eyes closed. His own body was a placeholder for Derek's; Avery clutched himself tighter, imagining his arms were his. Tighter still. He didn't want to let go.
He wanted to meld Derek's body against his; shared warmth and equal breaths. To feel the reverberations of his heartbeat, the air of his lungs, the warmth of his skin— the things that made him undeniably alive. He wanted Derek as a person and not a concept. As someone. As more than just pixels on a meaningless screen, as more than just text in a bar. He craved him.
"Avery?" a voice suddenly called, like something clear in muddy water.
He held himself closer, eyes wrenched shut as tears burned his eyelids.
"Avery?" they repeated, voice familiar. He latched onto it slowly, becoming more aware.
Avery suddenly awoke in a tangle of limbs. He was disorientated, hardly being able to pinpoint where he began and where the other started. He was warm all over, shared body heat mingling in what he realized was a bed. His bed— their bed. Avery's eyes slowly became unglossed, Derek's face coming into focus. Dandelion-coloured eyes like citrines; thick eyebrows knitted together in worry. He hadn't lost him. Avery knew his face; every inch of it he'd memorized like a favourite book.
The relived memory still shook him, his nervous system fighting against the logic that it wasn't real. Derek had his arms wrapped around him, chest-to-chest. Skin-to-skin. His racing heartbeat thrummed against Derek's, his jumbled brain trying to make sense of things.
"Were you having a nightmare? You started talking in your sleep," Derek both asked and explained.
The sound of his voice soothed him like melatonin, his body becoming less stiff, shoulders less square. He melted into Derek's hold, body feeling boneless like water.
"I was, sorry."
"Why are you apologizing? What happened?" He began rubbing his back, repetitive circles that made Avery tired.
"It was the night I thought I'd lost you." Avery's eyes were watery, composure weak as he shivered, face heating. "I dreamt it again."
Avery breathed out, breath tickling Derek's face. Avery leaned in, tilting his lips against Derek's, hand cupping his face. He needed to know Derek was real. Derek reciprocated, kissing him before pulling away.
"I love you," Derek reminded him, still rubbing his back tenderly.
"I'm sorry," Avery whispered, unsure of why.
"Don't be."
Derek knew everything about Avery. Where he liked to be touched. What comforted him. What he craved and longed for.
"C'mere," Derek said, soothing him. He pulled him in closer, chests together, limbs tangling. Derek moved in, planting his head in the joint of Avery's shoulder and neck.
The vibrations of Derek's voice against his neck made Avery shiver. "Go to sleep."
Avery closed his eyes, slowly drifting off.