CW: Things get a little steamy and not because it's a shower scene, Chris again.
look for the ~~~ because that'll mark where the steam starts and ends, in case you want to skip it.
forgive me if the amount of (short) timeskips give you whiplash. there's like three or four.
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There was a familiar ache settling behind (e/c) eyes by the time Y/n and Erin sat down against a wall in the hallway they'd retreated to. At the very least, Erin seemed calm.
Y/n, on the other hand, was still a bit dazed. Hannah's reaction was not the cause of this; everyone who was there when the news came out was still rattled from it all. Some took it harder than others.
Hannah had been one of the few who had no outward reaction until later on when it became clear that something had changed in her. The murders continued and Hannah would grow irritated when people brought it up. Sometimes silently, sometimes vocally.
It was a mistake for Y/n to let the conversation proceed, but that wasn't what had the (h/c) boy's fingers shaking. At the near mention of... that, at Hannah's outburst, at Erin's slightly unsettling calmness... none of it had him worried.
It was Teagan.
She was a person who didn't take shit from anyone and she'd let people know that, but never had she gotten physical. Especially not in front of Ezra.
She could've — no, she was looking out for people like Y/n and Towa, who couldn't even bear to talk about him without breaking down. But to slap Hannah? Slap Hannah?
"You're not considering what Hannah said, are you?" Erin's monotone voice cut into the silence of the empty hallway. Y/n's worried thoughts were also made scarce with the shifted focus, but the topic didn't ease the slow spin in his stomach.
"Hannah said a lot of things. Which thing?" Y/n settled on asking, because it was true. Some of the things Hannah said... probably needed to be unpacked, but if Y/n wasn't asked to analyze them by someone else, he wouldn't ask himself either.
"The one about me," Erin muttered, and Y/n finally turned to actually look at the brown-haired male. His heart sunk.
Erin actually looked... upset.
"Do you think I'm the one killing people?" Erin muttered, dark eyes focused somewhere on the ceiling. Y/n blinked.
He was a bit taken off-guard by the visible, almost sad tension in the other boy's features.
Did Hannah's words actually... get to him?
Y/n had known Erin for years. Once, he was easy to anger. Easy to rile up. But now? He was neither of those things. He didn't let people get to him. Even if someone somehow managed to, it would never show, but Y/n could see it now in the form of a downturn to his lips and a small furrow in his brows.
"If you had an evil plan to kill everybody, this would not be the stage of your life it happened in," The (h/c) boy settled on saying after a discouraging pause. The statement was meant to be a humorous reminiscence of the past, but Y/n couldn't manage to inject any much needed warmth into it.
The past was a shadow hanging over the two boys. Jokes could be attempted but it was hard to laugh.
A huff of amusement left the other boy's lips, but he didn't quite conjure up a smile. Y/n chewed the inside of his cheek.
Truthfully, Erin hadn't been... crossed out of the list. Y/n trusted him with his life, yes, but he was also in no position to rule out anyone. That didn't mean he suspected Erin, just that he... didn't not suspect Erin.
But, he still, in friend fashion, nervously offered a hand to the brunette, who stared at it for a second. Y/n didn't even catch the smirk when Erin's warm hand reached out, dodging Y/n's extended hand and instead wrapping around the (h/c) boy's elbow. In one quick tug, Y/n was pulled into Erin's side faster than he could blink.
Flustered, Y/n tried to sit up properly, but an arm wrapping around him said quite clearly that that was exactly where Erin intended him to be.
"Ha, I win," Erin claimed triumphantly, hand settling right underneath Y/n's chest, conveniently close enough to feel the destabilized thumping of his heart if he tried to.
"You asshole, I thought something was wrong," Y/n spoke through small laughs, his own hands moving to push Erin's away before stopping, deciding half-way that he rather liked Erin's touch on him.
"Oh, and something is wrong. I'm so sad. Please comfort me," Erin swooned, a cocky grin playing at his lips and a glint in his eyes that left a certain (h/c) boy a little breathless.
Erin's phone dinged before Y/n could verbalize a response, which was good for him because he didn't have one. Most people would ignore it until a more appropriate time to check it arose, but Y/n knew by now that Erin would dig his phone out of his pocket and make sure whatever notification he received wasn't from one of his siblings, just in case.
Y/n watched Erin's reaction through the corner of his eye, blurring out whatever his phone screen showed (he didn't want to, in a way, eavesdrop) but at the same time making sure whatever message he received was not a bad one.
Erin didn't express anything, an absent-minded hum leaving his lips as he shut his phone off and set it aside.
"Is it from one of the kids?" Y/n asked, trying not to pry but a little on-edge anyway. There was nothing to be worried about, at least when it came to Erin.
"What? Oh, uh, no, it was from Ezra, but they're sending Grayson to check on us," The brunet said, subconsciously pulling Y/n a little closer.
The (h/c) boy nodded. Grayson was, indeed, Erin's brother, and definitely not a kid, but Y/n lumped them all together in that shallow label anyway. The two boys had spoken — or at least acknowledged each other's presence in the same vicinity — before, but not to the point where they'd call themselves close.
Most of Y/n's knowledge on who Grayson exactly was came from Erin's idle chatter about his family as a whole, but despite that Y/n considered the other boy as a friend.
Y/n exhaled, eyelids drooping just a bit. He was getting too comfortable in Erin's hold, sinking a little further into his friend's warmth.
"Okay, okay, let me go before I fall asleep on this floor," He mumbled, trying to sit up although he had no intent to actually rip himself from the embrace.
Erin's grip only tightened. "Mm, if you sleeping on the nasty ass floor means you stay here, I'll make that sacrifice."
"You'll make that sacrifice? What are you sacrificing? I'm the one contracting diseases," Y/n spoke, ignoring the curl of his gut at that comment.
"Well, I'm an empath, so this hurts me more than it hurts you." Erin again readjusted his hold, and Y/n found himself edging closer to the other boy once again.
Y/n swears he would've found something to say to that, but it didn't matter because the moment was interrupted by a pale boy with long black hair emerging from around the corner.
"Hi, Grayson," Erin greeted, hands failing to move away from their desired spots, even if it would've been ethical to maybe not half-grope his best friend in front of his brother.
Grayson didn't seem to notice. Well, he did, in the sense that his eyes lingered shortly on Y/n and then a bit longer on the arm around him. He didn't comment (neither boy expected him to), but did whisper something in Erin's ear when he took a spot on the other side of him.
Grayson was tall and a bit underweight, and he didn't speak much. Ever, really, but it didn't stunt his and Erin's relationship in the slightest when his physical demeanor and social anxiety did so with other people. After all, the brunet was the first person he actually talked to after he was first taken in by Erin's adoptive family a couple years back.
Point being, they were close.
"Did it seem like Hannah and Teagan were okay?" Erin asked Grayson, who had started to fidget with his sleeves.
The ravenet just shrugged.
"What do you mean you don't know? Did they seem tense?" Erin pressed, and Y/n couldn't say he was surprised by how seamlessly he communicated with the otherwise nonverbal male.
The (h/c) boy knew from childhood experiences that it was easiest to talk to someone who didn't necessarily need him to use words. He supposed that played into his somewhat friendly relationship with Grayson.
In response to Erin's question, Grayson shook his head, and then leaned forward to whisper something to the brunet again.
"Oh. What? Was Ezra gone, too?" Erin's eyebrows furrowed, and Y/n felt a strand of concern knot itself in his stomach.
Grayson paused for a second, presumably sorting through his mind to try and remember who Ezra even was, and then nodded.
Erin leaned back against the wall. Grayson copied the movement.
"Huh. Well, I'm sure Teagan has a reason for running off. She works in strange ways, and there's no doubt Ezra went with her like a fucking dog," Erin shrugged, no hint of worry in his tone.
Y/n supposed he was right. Nobody would be bold enough to try anything in the middle of the school, and Teagan could handle herself — and Ezra could too! Just... mostly Teagan.
"Are you still mad at Ezra?" Y/n asked suddenly, the thought just popping into his head. Erin hadn't been shy about telling him how annoyed he was that morning, and how rude it was for them to fuck instead of being there for Y/n.
"I would've been fine if they hadn't gone out of their way to fuck at school, nasty motherfuckers," Erin had said, and while Y/n didn't personally think it was a big deal, he sort of understood Erin's sentiment.
"Not really. I think he's sorry, and since he isn't a complete asshole like Dayton or Hannah, I can't stay mad at him," Erin said after a few moments of considering his answer.
"Hannah is just a little out of pocket... and you've lost me on Dayton. He's not an asshole." Y/n couldn't say that for sure, though. He didn't know Dayton as much as Erin did.
"Well, the Dayton you talk to is either high or love-drunk. The Dayton I get the pleasure of talking to is post-masturbation Dayton, who just loves ranting about how pathetic he is and then segueing back to jerking off," Erin complained, his free arm moving to wrap around Grayson on his other side, who'd been silent enough to the point of Y/n forgetting he was there until the ravenet was reeled in closer to both of them.
"I don't want to hear about that, and how does that make him an asshole?" Y/n shuddered a bit. His friends were always disturbingly open about sexual matters. It didn't gross the (h/c) boy out per se but it was a little new.
"In the moment, he sounds like Chris," Erin deadpanned.
Y/n's mouth hung open for a second, but he decided that the statement needed no further explanation. He nodded, letting himself sink a bit further into Erin.
This was nice.
♡♥︎♡
Y/n was seconds away from bashing his skull in on the counter.
He'd been forced to listen to his two closest colleagues, Malikai and Logan, flirt for four hours. He knew they were progressing their relationship, and, don't get him wrong, it was good that they weren't afraid to show affection in public.
But it feels a little abundant when you have to be surrounded by it.
"You seem happier lately," that had been Y/n's comment towards Malikai. It was true; the other man had been smiling much more often over the past week.
Sure, to anyone else it looked like the occasional smirk, but to anyone who'd known him for longer than a month, it looked like Malikai was starting a "New Year, New Me" journey in the middle of November.
The brunet had disagreed, and, when Y/n mentioned it, explained that the reason was too inappropriate to mention to a young colleague at the work place (Malikai was only two years older than the (h/c) boy, but Y/n supposed his point still stood.)
Even with Malikai's reluctance to actually share the reason behind his sudden change in demeanor, it didn't take a genius to find out. Surrounded by as much flirting as he was, Y/n knew that it had something to do with Logan and his relationship.
And knowing as much about Malikai's personality as he did (they'd only worked together for a year by now, but attended the same school for their entire life), it had something to do with sex.
Logan was responsive to Malikai's teasing remarks and wandering touches, but he was quick to scold him when his hands traveled too far and his voice got a bit too loud.
Stacy was less fond of Malikai's tiny but effective distractions, a permanent scowl on her face. It wasn't completely the other male's fault, though, half of the blame going to Stacy's already bad mood over being busy and having to stay at the bakery for longer than necessary.
This was all apparently public information, due to Stacy's talkative nature and tendency to ramble. She easily started to miss her kids, so every extra hour of work was almost physically painful for her.
Y/n just did his job as best as he could, toggling between accidentally listening into Logan and Malikai's hushed conversations and thinking about the rent. Would this be the time Chris finally demands repayment? Y/n wasn't sure he knew what to do if that was the case.
Chris had seemed to be in a bit of a worse mood, if that morning was anything to go by. He knew Y/n would pay him back if he had the money, but he also knew that Y/n... didn't.
He'd expect a different type of payment.
Nope. Y/n stole a customer who was lingering, eyes staring up at the menus above, with a small, "I can take you over here."
He needed some sort of distraction from the hole those thoughts had gone down. Nothing would change, nothing was different. He'd be fine.
He had to be.
♥︎♡♥︎
Zeke and Chris were smoking in the kitchen when Y/n got back. They had the decency to open a window, but that just made it colder, and the room still smelled like smoke.
The (h/c) boy supposed it was better than either of them drinking until they were too dizzy to find the bottle.
"Y/n, we were just- just talking about you," Zeke mumbled, slipping on his words and Y/n realized he was definitely drunk. Spoke too soon.
The older man's shirt was undone, and Y/n assumed he was either interrupting something or walking in on the aftermath of something. The latter cringed, intending to make this visit as short as humanly possible.
"How's rent look?" Chris, who was seemingly sober enough, asked. Y/n paused.
There was absolutely no way he was exposing his financial stability, or, more accurately, lack of, to Zeke, who probably knew enough about him already. So, he shrugged and tried to leave again, but apparently that dumbass blond still had more to say.
Chris caught up to him rather quickly, catching his shoulder and turning him around. Y/n felt goosebumps rise along his skin. The cold, unpleasant kind.
"No pressure. Take your time getting the money back; I'll take care of you for now, a'ight?" Chris spoke smoothly, his voice low enough to hide from his friend in the kitchen.
"...Thanks," Y/n muttered, underneath his breath and uncertain if not completely insincere. He... had to appreciate part of what Chris was doing, but did the older man have to be so weird about it?
The (h/c) boy shook his hand off of his shoulder and left the moment it felt like Chris wasn't willing him not to. He retreated to his room without sparing a glance back.
He needed to shower, but it could wait until Zeke left. If he left.
♡♥︎♡
~~~
Y/n's reflection stared into (e/c) eyes, trying hopelessly to level with himself. Zeke had left and inbetween the worrisome encounter with Y/n's roommate and now, a whole new flower of emotions had bloomed inside of the (h/c) boy's heart.
It had been in a smaller, budding form since that afternoon, but a FaceTime call with Erin had those emotions swelling again.
Slowly, Y/n undressed himself and stepped into the shower, shutting the door with a click. He turned on the water thoughtlessly and stood out of the ice-cold jet of liquid until it warmed into something friendlier. Only then did he squeeze shampoo into his hand and run it through his hair.
While he washed his hair, his thoughts started to wander. He could almost still feel Erin's touch on him, now in the shape of warm water, but there all the same.
Y/n rinse the soap out of his (h/c) locks until he was satisfied, just so he could use his hands to ghost over the spot Erin rested his hand on, just a few inches below his chest.
It was terrifying, how quickly Y/n resolved to lowering into a crouch and hesitantly wrapping a hand around his cock. Water dripped from his hair into his eyes, a sting he welcomed as punishment for what he was about to do.
Masturbating to someone else, he thought as his hand gently stroked along his shaft, is normal. Guilt may come with it. Embarrassment and awkwardness especially if it's someone you have to face the next morning. Have to talk to knowing you fucked your hand to the sound of that same voice.
It was an extra, horrible feeling of shame when it was your best friend.
But, alas, it was much too early for that post-nut clarity.
His thoughts stubbornly returned to Erin. He imagined his hand, pace steadily increasing, as the brunet's, and wondered how he'd —
Y/n's breath shuddered. What he was doing was bad. Y/n did not often feel ashamed about masturbating, but imagining his friend in his place... that was...
Still, the (h/c) boy was too far gone, pleasure slowly spiking with each faster stroke. If it was Erin doing this to him... would he go slow? Torturing him with just the faintest pleasure, but such an unmatched desperation at the same time? Or would he be relentless in his pace, torturing Y/n in a separate way entirely...
Fuck, he'd be perfect. Whatever he wanted, whatever way... Y/n could adjust to it. If it meant Erin felt good, goddamn it, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
Just the thought of pleasing Erin was too much. Y/n imagined choking on Erin's own cock till a milky white was painting the back of his throat, embarrassed but aroused by the thought.
Why am I thinking these things? Why am I doing these things?? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What am I doing?
Erin's arms around him, keeping him upright as he — he... fuck.
Y/n felt hot all over, the beginnings of orgasm tingling low in his abdomen. The (h/c) boy couldn't even keep his thoughts straight, every fantasy of the other boy cut off by his own shame, but playing out so vividly anyway.
The brunet's hands in his hair, praise leaving his lips in that deep voice of his as Y/n was held down and —
Call him a premature ejaculator, but Y/n came in an instant, eyes squeezing shut and hips jerking a bit. He kept himself silent, as unlikely as it was that his roommate would hear him. He basked in the moment till it faded, and his mind was blank as he steadied his breathing and stood back up, knees sore from holding that position.
He tried not to think of anything as he washed the rest of his body and got out, drying himself off and returning to his room.
It was only there that he truly reflected on the what the fuck had just happened.
Seriously, jerking off to the thought of getting laid by his best friend while a murderer was on the loose? Sure, that whole ordeal didn't automatically mean he had to spend the rest of his seemingly short life rotting away in sadness and fear, but it wouldn't hurt to prioritize.
As nice as it felt, he was still flushed with embarrassment, even when the only person making fun of him was himself. Perhaps one day in the very distant future, he could share this with Erin and laugh about it.
As for right now?
He'd rather take the murderer.
Fuck whatever consequences came from sleeping with wet hair. He might as well have passed out the second he hit the mattress.
~~~~~
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