Chapter Text
Late summer nights meant relentless heat. Always too hot, more than enough to really get under my skin. The kind of weather that sweat can’t cool you down from. In Los Angeles, relief can only be found in cold showers. Or the side of an ice cold beer.
I held one up to my face. It was icy against my hot, sticky skin. A taste of winter in the far-late June night. The last beer from the cleaned out fridge, actually. Ted’s refrigerator was a decent size, several shelves tall. Each had been crammed with White Claws, IPAs, and various bottles of liquor before the party started. Now, it was bare.
It was just past 2AM and the windows in his apartment were cracked open, letting in the sound of crickets chirping outside. I slumped on the couch, laughing with Ted, kicking my shoes off into the mess of empty cans and party trash that littered his floor.
Nothing like a good ol’ VidCon party to really draw the many creators of Los Angeles and beyond out of the woodwork. Even folks like myself, who work regular 9 to 5 jobs and happen to be friends with said creators. The hour-long commute from my new apartment in the Valley was a bitch with the traffic, but it had been worth it just to see the sea of familiar faces.
Well, most of them.
Influencer parties meant that everyone came.
There was one creator I hoped would skip this time. This time of year, he doesn’t even come to town for the convention. But he didn’t skip, because of course he didn’t. So I played nice all evening. Put on a smile, nodded my head at him like the distant acquaintances we were. Smoking half a cigarette before heading back into the party. My heart clenched in my chest, but I tried not to feel resentful.
Hey, it wasn’t Schlatt’s fault I’ve had it bad for him since 2019.
Ted sat next to me on the couch, taking another long swig from his sweating bottle of beer. His skin was shiny and his normally impeccable hair was unkempt from partying. His voice was loud in the nearly abandoned apartment. He waved a few fingers as the last party guest bid their goodbyes and shut the front door behind them.
“Sounds like you’ve been up to a lot,” he continued our conversation with a lopsided grin.
My tacky skin stuck to the pleather as I turned to face him better, “Oh, yeah. I’ve been working overtime whenever I can. The last thing I wanna be when Christmas comes around is broke. I don’t think I’ve actually had a break to chill in like, what? Two months now?”
“Really?” He gestured to the chaos around us, “You don’t miss the-” he kicked a crushed can with his bare foot, “-Trash everywhere? The couple dozen drunk streamers acting like they’ve never interacted with another human?”
That got a full laugh out of me, “Not exactly, no. But it’s good to see you again, man. You look like you’re doing alright. I love this new apartment!”
He scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, well, you know. Just wracking my brain, trying to think of something interesting to do a video on. Working on planning another road trip with Eddy. Just taking it one step at a time, y’know?”
“Hey, nothing wrong with that!” I smile, “I know when you have a great idea, an amazing video is soon to follow.”
A clatter came from the kitchen. Lo and behold, the one man I prayed left early came wandering out, a glass of bourbon - I assume - in hand. Schlatt slowly moved into the living room and flopped down onto the plush loveseat opposite our couch. A shit-eating grin spread across his lips.
“I second that, Ted. You’re such a great addition to the masses on YouTube. Just as creative as the average middle school student,” he smiled wide, every last perfect tooth on display, “Too bad you only upload once a quarter.”
Ted’s demeanor soured, “Jesus, man, I thought you left. What the hell are you still doing here?”
Schlatt put a hand to his chest, feigning offense, “Oh, me? Y’know, call me crazy, but I didn’t exactly think it was wise to get on the road with my blood alcohol percentage. The last thing I need is getting busted in this shithole of a city.”
“Or hitting another deer,” I mumbled, barely audible.
“Yeah, I bet the entire force of the LAPD are up all day and all night when you land at LAX. Just totally fixed on arresting you,” Ted snarked back.
“Hey, man, don’t start getting all pissy. Who invited me again?” When Ted sighed, Schlatt started sarcastically scratching his mutton chop in deep thought, "Because I specifically remember you ringing me up on Discord and begging me to make an appearance, and I delivered.”
“This VidCon party was for content creators, Schlatt. Not TikTok reaction slop farmers.”
“Hey,” Schlatt said seriously. His chocolate eyes went cold, his humor dropped, “Fuck you, Ted. I’ll get back into my groove next year. Just you wait.”
Ted looked at me over the rim of his bottle. “What the hell did you ever see in this guy?” His hazel eyes asked.
I turned my gaze away. Ted was the only one who knew about the whole shitshow.
~~
How I fell face-first into a crush with Schlatt during his 2019 TwitchCon trip. Ted encouraged me to tag along with him to San Diego to meet his online friends. Carson and Wilbur were funny and nice enough, but the high energy quickly drained me.
Being the only two sober people at the end of a house party, I asked Schlatt for a ride home in his flashy rental car. He obliged. We made conversation - the Minecraft golden boy and Ted’s quiet little friend from college. He played music I’d never heard before, but surprisingly enjoyed. He cracked jokes and I laughed. The two hours north to LA passed too quickly.
He left me standing on the curb outside my apartment and I was hooked.
I shadowed him online a little the next few months. I wasn’t proud of it. Sneaking funny donations whenever he’d stream, enjoying it far too much when he’d laugh. Staring a little too long at his fluttering eyelashes.
I knew from Ted that he’d be coming back to LA for Lunch Club, so I decided I’d take Ted up on his invitation. Three days before Schlatt would fly home - after I spent all night babysitting Ted after the Nerds Rope - I decided I’d take the risk.
My heart beat audibly in my ears. He was so tall, loud, and intimidating, but the memory of how soft his voice got inside that car, how he talked to me with such human warmth: it just sat and stewed. I couldn’t shake it. So, at the end of that day, I caught him alone outside while he smoked a cigarette. I stood in front of him, stammering awkwardly trying to get out exactly what I meant. I wanted to know him better, I liked him, he made something inside of my chest flutter in a way no other guy had.
And what did he do? Interrupted me with a scoff, scanned me with his dark brown eyes a few times. He scuffed his cigarette under his boot, went back inside the massive house, and spent the rest of the trip avoiding me.
It crushed me.
The going-away party for all of them was a blur.
Towards the end of the night, I sat in a miserable corner of the creator-filled house, drinking and generally feeling like a sad sack. Ted had practically saved me. We were both drunk and he just wanted a lay, I knew that. No attachments, no feelings. We stumbled upstairs and he treated me right, hot skin on hot skin, his talent obvious. I never expected him to pause, to actually care when I burst into tipsy tears, my stupid story spilling out.
“...Schlatt? My friend, Schlatt?” He asked, looking equal parts completely confused and grossed out. “Are we talking about the same person? Why the hell do you give a shit about him? He’s a fucking twink.”
“You don’t get it.” I sniffled, wiping my eyes, tits still out in the twilight light of the locked upstairs bedroom.
“Hey,” warm, strong fingers found my hip bones. I looked down at one of my oldest friends, “Don’t give that asshole the satisfaction of hurting you, okay? He doesn’t deserve it.”
I kissed Ted. It dulled the pain.
In the years since, we went back to each other more than a few times. Seeking solace from his skilled tongue and coaxing fingers. It was good. We both needed it. We were both coping, in our own separate ways. Covid was horrible for everyone. We were both tragically touch-starved.
~~
“Whatever,” Ted grumbled in Schlatt’s direction. He stretched, scratching at the stubble growing under his chin, and turned back to me, “You gonna head out soon? It’s getting pretty late, and I know it’s a long drive home.”
I thought about my car parked out front under the palm trees, about the several shots I had taken recently, and the beer currently in my hand. The alcohol still simmered under my skin. Not enough to impair, but enough to raise the eyebrows of Highway Patrol.
I resettled in my seat, legs tucked under myself, “Actually, if it’s alright, I’d really like to crash here tonight. I’ll be out of your hair by morning, I promise.”
Ted held a hand up, “Hey, say no more. You’re always welcome here, y/n.”
Schlatt hummed, sinking even lower into the cushions and crossing one leg over the other, “I’d be careful if I were you, y/n. Ted and I have been friends for years. He has a bit of a reputation. Especially when it comes to the ladies. Be prepared to defend yourself, toots.”
Ted pressed his lips together, brows drawn down. Thinking, calculating, “Well...” He said eventually, huffing a laugh down at his lap before raising his head. “It’s a little late for that, actually.”
My face burned and I bit my lip to keep from smiling, sticking out a leg to kick his thigh admonishingly, “Teddy!”
Schlatt’s eyes went wide, pointing at Ted and I, “You guys...” he processed before scoffing, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Of course. The cute little college duo, of course. A perfect, predictable, coupling. How adorable.”
“Hey man, don’t be like that,” Ted replied, “Why don’t you blow off some of that tension? You might stop being an asshole. Fucking get some,” he was mocking Schlatt now, openly.
When I shot him a look, Ted side-eyed me back.
“Wait.” His gaze said.
What the hell was he playing at?
Schlatt smiled. It was a tight, defensive move. I could see it in his expression, now, how people online who don’t know him would be intimidated by him, “I know you probably haven’t noticed, Ted, with your head being so far up your own ass, but the ladies don’t exactly have the best opinion of me. Kind of hard to get some when I’ve spent the past 6 years making myself look as unattractive and abrasive as possible.”
Ted’s hand was on my bare ankle. Schlatt glanced down at it, expression still glowering, for a fraction of a second before looking away.
“Come on,” Ted continued, his fingers went up another half-inch on my leg. He was staring down Schlatt, “No gamer girls in New York?” Fingers up another inch, “No Tinder sluts, really?” Fingers on my knee, creeping up my inner thigh. Shocked heat sparked up my spine. “No hot little femboys you can get all riled up with tales of an old Minecraft SMP? Get ‘em in the back of your NSX and-”
“Ted,” I hissed in mortification, grabbing his hand.
Not moving it, because holy shit, it felt good. This had caught me off-guard, how much blood was rushing down to my nethers right now, how headily aroused the simple digits resting on my inner thigh were making me. Not because it was Ted, no.
But because Schlatt was right fucking there, feet away, with eyes as wide as saucers.
The room went electrically silent.
Schlatt’s eyes bounced off of mine like sparks, and he quickly looked away, throat bobbing. Finally remembering how to speak, he was hauling himself out of his chair.
“Fuck you, Ted. Jesus, fuck. If you wanted guys me out you could have just asked me to fucking leave, Christ. Fucking animals,” he was scrambling for his stuff as fast as he could.
“Ted, what the hell are you doing?!” I hissed again at the man still grabbing the meat of my leg, insanely high adrenaline and arousal making my voice wobble.
Suddenly Ted’s head was close to mine, lips near my ear and voice barely audible over the clatter and clash of Schlatt desperately collecting his personal belongings, “I can ask him to stay.”
“What?” I said blankly. Had I misheard?
“You’re probably never gonna see him again,” Ted’s voice was low, rushed. He looked at me meaningfully, “Not for another few years, at least. He hates LA. And I know you - I know you well enough to know you still want him. I have no fucking idea why, but look… The worst thing that can happen is he says no and he leaves. But if he says yes? If he stays…?”
Oh man. Oh fuck. Oh shit.
Ted motherfucking Nivison - The King of Rainforest Cafe - was asking me if I wanted to try to pitch a threesome with the guy I’ve liked for over 5 years.
“Clock’s ticking,” Ted reminded me.
Schlatt was throwing on his brown, corduroy jacket by the front door. Fuck, I love that jacket on him.
I squeezed my eyes shut and made my decision before I could second guess it, “Okay,” I whispered against his face, “Okay, yes.”
Schlatt was a dick who threw my crush in my face and acted like it never happened, but he was stuck in my head. If this was the way to finally be free of him, then so be it. Bite the bullet.
Ted pulled me closer until my legs were slung over his lap, “Hey, Schlatt,” he called loudly.
I looked away, staring down at the couch, face burning knowing he was staring at me. Maybe staring at my legs and Ted’s hand riding the hem of my dress up higher and higher.
The jingling shuffle by the entryway stilled.
“Don’t leave.”