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He's the one hipster blog that follows you. You've been told everyone has one- doesn't matter if you post strictly gaming things, they just show up. With their wistful URLS, lush bathbomb photos, and starbucks coffee covered in instagram filters.
Eridan is your 'one hipster blog'. You shouldn't know his name, but, it was on his side bar. It's kind of weird that you even refer to him as his name, honestly.
You tried referring to him (in your head of course), as SeaSweptMemories, but it didn't stick. Probably because you tried to put the url and his name both out of your mind so that you could play some TF2 with a few followers.
You uh, have a lot of those, by the way. They like it when you utterly destroy 12 year olds for being shitty at games. You've got 10 years of experience on their lives, and they're all little brats. It brings you joy to make them ragequit.
Except, it's you who's doing the ragequitting about two weeks later when SeaSweptMemories spawncamps you like a motherfucker at 3am.
You send him anon hate for his shitty photography, and don't feel bad, not even a little.
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He likes your posts and you delete them.
He reblogs your signal boosts and you groan into your palms.
He watches your streams but doesn't personally interact or anything until you get a 'goodgame' one night and you cave.
You go back to his blog.
Not because you like lurking it, but because he pisses you off and it bothers you to see him absolutely everywhere on the internet while being oblivious to how much you loathe his existence.
Eridan is a waiter at some classy restaurant. He gets nice tips, but secretly hates everyone he works with and would love to not be doing his job.
He flunked out of college, lives in a shitty small apartment, and has a fluffy white old lady dog he rescued during a storm that he posts loads of pictures of.
He's two years older than you. Is on a local swim team, but tries not to do competitions any more because he's actually a bit shy about it offline.
The personal details people post online is wild to you- did his parents never teach him internet safety? Fucking pathetic.
The most your followers know about you is that you're some guy who plays games super late at night.
You go to send him more anon hate, because he won't get out of your head, but you're too tired and the sun is already coming up.
So you faceplant into your bed wondering what your 'one hipster blogger' actually looks like himself.
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You do TMI tuesday every week because you like talking about yourself and you have hoards of gamers who literally pay you to play video games and who are curious about your life.
And your dick too, apparently.
Whatever. It's the internet, people continue to be horny online.
You answer honest, because you don't care (you do, but lies are hard to keep up), and more asks just keep coming in. Your inbox is absolutely flooded with anons wanting to know your kinks, your romantic history, if you like tall girls, if you like tits or ass better, and the ever annoying question, 'do you have a girlfriend'.
You don't. You don't have a boyfriend either.
You're not particularly looking because about 90% of the population annoys you within the first 10 minutes of talking, and that's not a good base for a relationship, in your opinion.
You're about to go play some minecraft to distract yourself from how disappointing all your answers to the internet must be, when you catch tumblr user SeaSweptMemories reblogging your TMI Tuesday post.
You hate yourself for clicking the link to his blog.
You hate yourself more for knowing you have it fucking bookmarked to check up on.
Between programming an elaborate locking system using redstone and checking your emails, you periodically click on your favourite hipster blog's tab. Just, you know. Out of morbid curiosity.
You're not disappointed.
What you are is frustrated.
Because he's fucking hot.
He posts teasers when asked for nudes, and you're the sketchbag who asks for more since you're on anon and he'll never know it was you.
He doesn't have to know. No one does.
He's fit because swimming, looks maybe a little taller than average height, if you're judging by the height of his hips compared to his immaculate bathroom's counter in his mirror selfie... and.
He actually looks like he has the softest skin in the world. That's probably a weird thing to notice, but, you suppose you do because yours will never come close to that.
Where your pasty cheeks are covered with blemishes, mass amounts of freckles and acne scars, his are flawless and tan, with a spattering of tiny dots high on his cheekbones up near his eyes. They're freckles, but they're so different from yours, you actually try and zoom in on them to get a better look.
He's gorgeous.
Of course your one shitty hipster follower is fucking gorgeous.
When you, and what have to be at least 3 other anons, finally talk him into posting 'the full nudes', you're not disappointed either. Well, maybe in yourself. And your boner.
But not in him.
You save the images. You give him his own little folder on your chaotic but organized laptop, and then contemplate asking to get to know him personally.
It's a bad idea, and you hesitate just a little to long.
He goes to bed for the night and you feel like an idiot for scrolling through his blog a little more to put pieces of his life together. His story, you guess.
You find out he lives across the fucking country, and you know that shouldn't be discouraging, but it is. You don't even know him. He doesn't even know you, aside from following your gaming and shit.
You go to bed before the sun comes up for the first time in months, and instead of thinking about what programs you have to write for which clients, you doze off to thoughts of Eridan's pretty soft skin, and the way his hair curls around his cheeks.
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You try not to be creepy when you ask him to play some games with you. You try to act like you voicecall with everyone you play with, so of course you'd want a teammate to call with you.
You actually hate calls because you have a lisp, but you want to hear his voice and are willing to make sacrifices. you've not been able to get Eridan out of your head for two weeks now and shit is starting to get a little desperate.
That's pissing you off the same way his url did at first. The fact that he won't fuck off, even when he's not doing anything and it's all you and your stupid good memory for pretty faces. You can't stop think about him, so naturally, you're mad at him for it.
You set up a game, a group call, and you try your hardest to play like normal while hanging off every word he says, listening for something that bugs you so that maybe you can stop thinking of him almost constantly.
He has a speech impediment, not the same as yours, but it's still cute. He's got a bit of a stutter, a wobble to some of his letters, but his voice is sweet and light, and you know now why he gets tipped well at his job. You also know why people don't fuck with him for long at his job, because he can get downright ruthless during gameplay too. At some points he's just an asshole, but then, so are you, and thankfully, you've arranged this so you're on the same team.
He's got an odd sense of humor, but you find yourself laughing anyway. He seems to like making you laugh, and you try not to let that go to your head- you're still some gross neckbeard who lives on the far northeast coast, and he probably has no clue that you think he's drop-dead gorgeous.
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"We should video call some night!"
You make a strangled noise that gets a laugh out of him.
"Or not! If you're not down for it!" he offers you a way out easily but what he doesn't know is you're far more eager than you should be to have a video call with him where his face is all yours to look at. Where you can see what his room looks like, how he sits with his computer. Anything. You want that, it's just.
You.
You're the problem, because he's not going to be excited to see you in the same way that you are to see him. You're going to disappoint this weird, cute hipster who has managed to become your favourite person to play on a team with. The loser who got you back playing World of Warcraft, but only if he's online because it's not as fun without him there with you. The only person you've ever let mess with stuff on your private minecraft server.
You don't want to be disappointing to him.
What if he thinks you're gross and doesn't want to talk any more?
"Maybe one day." you sigh, and you can hear his smile in the way he hums at you.
"Shy, huh?"
You're glad he can't see you because you're covering your bright cheeks in shame.
"Yeah, kinda."
"That's cute."
You groan and he laughs, but you're so flustered you end up dying way faster than you should and then bailing to go order some pizza.
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You're really bad at taking care of yourself, but, you've got a stupid crush on this stupid hipster with his stupid streaked hair and stupid nice face.... so you try. Just for him.
You actually comb your hair after a long shower, and brush your teeth for what might be the first time in a week. Part of you knows that's gross, but, usually you have a hard time giving a shit when you work from home and pretty much live off of delivery foods.
It might be laziness, it might be the leftovers of years having brutal depression. You're motivated to change your routine, for him.
When he calls you, you panic and click 'answer with audio only'. You're ready. You've been ready for an hour now. But, you're still worried he's going to cringe at the scruff on your chin and the way you squint behind your glasses.
"Sol? Is your video not workin' or are you still bein' shy?"
You give an exasperated sigh, because sure enough, there he is on the other end of the call, smiling sheepishly and making your pasty cheeks warm.
When you click the little camera icon, he claps excitedly as it does the loady spinny circle thing.
Here goes nothing.
"Your eyes!" is the first thing he says, and yeah, you guess you'd forgotten about that part.
"Yeah yeah, I know. I'm some 12 year olds deviant art anime OC come to life." You scratch the back of your neck and contemplate pulling your hoodie's hood over your head.
"They're wonderful Sol!"
Your cheeks are red when you try and shoosh him, but he just laughs at you and your chest warms up from the inside out.
He's not upset. Or disappointed.
He keeps peeking at your video feed the whole time you play games, and you worry you're making stupid faces, but he never once comments on anything negatively. He just watches you with this dumb sweet smile and you maybe catch yourself smiling right back at him.
Just before you turn on him and blow him up.
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Calling with him every day becomes routine to you. He comes home from work and you both skype until you're tired and then go to bed.
He says 'sweet dreams' every time and that's fucking adorable.
At some point, you start to wonder if maybe you ought to tell him you want to kiss his soft face. You want to tease his hair with your fingers, you want to take him on shitty cheesy dates because you know he's a hopeless romantic and normally you'd think that was stupid and gross, but it's Eridan so it's just cute to you. Endearing.
You want him.
You want this cute boy who lives hundreds of miles away.
You weigh the pros and cons of telling him over and over in your head. Lay out possible outcomes, his potential reactions.
A lot of them are him laughing at you. And him never calling you again.
Ultimately, you kind of just, end up blurting it on call one night while the two of you are doing dungeons.
He laughs, and for a moment your heart seizes up.
"Dude, you've b'n makin' doe eyes at me for three months now. I know."
Your groan, and press your face to the keyboard.
"Have I really?"
"Yeah. If I wasn't okay with it, I'da said so ages ago." He smiles at you, so sweet and genuine and you can't help but give him a timid little smile back. He's told you stories about him ridiculing people who've made unwanted passes at him while he was working, so maybe you should have expected that instead.
"But...." You start, and don't want to have to finish the question. "is. Is it all me? Onesided or whatever?"
He laughs again, rolling his eyes.
"Would I be up at 4am with you every night playin' all sorts'a shitty games, on call where you can see me make awful faces, if it was?" The warm sweetness in his tone makes you want to cry and cheer all at once.
"So like, is this a bad time to ask you to be my boyfriend then?" You're grinning now, cheeks warm in the best of ways.
"The worst, actually, because I'm tryin' to not get our party royally fucked in this instance." He's grinning too, teasing you but in a way that's so friendly and playful it doesn't hurt.
A heartbeat later, when you're still waiting, he answers.
"Of course, Sol."
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From that point on you thoroughly invite Eridan Ampora into your life.
Well. As much as you can, while he's so far away.
You share a house in Minecraft, and get cooed over by other players when they see you two helping each other mine, or you harvesting and replanting his crops. You're not used to that kind of public response, nor the domesticity of it all.
And honestly, it feels pretty nice.
You line up your schedules best you can, working on your codes and projects for clients while he's waiting tables, and you're always eager to call as soon as he gets home, even if it's while he's cooking himself dinner. He's your Internet Boyfriend that a few anons tease you about, and you can't even be mad that people start calling him that.
You spend every second online with him that you can because so far, he's managed to keep surprising you with how amazing he is, even when he's not trying. Even when all he's doing is being is normal self on camera, doing normal routines like nothing is different. Even from the other side of the country.
It's also just sort of nice, that you can not even be talking, just, going about your life together while miles and miles apart. You like watching him cook, because that's never been a thing you were good at, and he does it so effortlessly. Well, not effortless, but, he makes it look easy and it makes you want to learn.
But you'd want it to be him to teach you.
Your sleep schedule doesn't match anyone in your timezone's, but you work online so it doesn't mater. You're up til 6am and it doesn't bother you one bit. Getting groceries is tricky because you never want to go out when you first wake up each day, but otherwise you're fine.
There are some days you go to bed early, and that's usually when Eridan has worked late, because then he's exhausted and can't keep from dozing off once he's home.
You come to find that he has a routine of showering as soon as he gets back from work, and fuck do you love seeing him come back into view of the call with wet curls and no shirt. Actually, you're pretty sure he's only in a towel, this time.
You waggle your eyebrows at him and he laughs at you, bites his lip and tips his laptop down so the camera shows off his nice stomach and how low on his hips that towel is.
The whine that sneaks out of you gets a heartier laugh from Eridan and you end up covering your face when he fixes his camera back to showing his chest and face.
"How are you so attractive, I don't understand." your voice is shaky and you don't care.
"Says the snack curled up in bed waitin' for me to get home?"
You snort.
"I'm gross literally every day of my life, I barely left bed today."
"Still want you in my bed every day of mine."
The hands covering your face muffles the sound you make as you tip over, laptop coming with you. He doesn't get to say sweet shit like that when you've been wearing the same Zelda tshirt for a week. And he's SEEN you wearing it, too.
You don't bother to sit back up, you kind of just, lay there and watch him, and it takes him a moment to notice just how interested you are before he bites his lip teasingly and leans back for you, just so you can see more of him at once.
"You're really keen on seein' me, huh?" He's so smug, but you nod anyway.
"How much d'you wanna see?"
Your cheeks are warm but you don't hesitate.
"All of you."
Admittedly, you still have his old nudes saved somewhere on your laptop. You just, you're a little ashamed of them, and nothing beats a live feed just for your eyes alone. Besides.... Eridan's your boyfriend now. You can't help wanting him just a little more than before.
"All'a me?" He winks, and makes a show of unwrapping his towel, even if his laptop still doesn't show any lower than the top inch of his lovely hip bones.
"Then I think it's only fair I get t'see at least a little more'a you, Sol."
You stop yourself from pushing your laptop back and immediately yanking down your boxers because No! That's not sexy!!! but, you're certainly excited and eager, and he chuckles again at the way you nod.
You're still a little shy about your body, because he's so fit and you're so....not. But he's told you he thinks the softness of your stomach is cute, so, at least there's that.
When you push your laptop back so your camera can show more of you, it's calmly, and with more grace than you can usually manage. You pluck at the bottom of your tshirt, tug it up a little bit, brush your fingers over your treasure trail for him, and grin just a little when Eridan wets his lips in response.
Honestly just the way he's watching you and the unspoken promise of matching you has you already pretty hot for him. You're about half up already and he's still not even moved back from his desk.
"Go on," he coaxes you, leading but gentle- you know you could bail and he'd not be even a little upset. "Show me."
Fuck, it's hot when he tells you what to do.
You leave your shirt bunched up above your navel and hook a thumb in your boxers, dragging them down just an inch to tease him. He makes a noise to encourage you, and you tug a little lower, so that he can see the crease of where leg meets hip, along with the patch of curls at the base of your cock.
"Let me see you," he prompts, and you give in. Moving your boxers enough that there's room for your dick to slip out over the waistband, already reasonably hard for him.
He's so damn smug as he sits there, grinning.
"Already?" he asked, not even waiting for your soft nod. "Fuck, Sol. Didn't know I could do that much just by not wearin' a shirt."
He could do loads more if he kept talking like that.
"Want you." you admit, cheeks hot as you slide your knuckles along yourself, more for show than feeling.
"Yeah, I can see," he's not even poking fun at you, he's interested. Eridan rolls back just enough that you can see him take hold of his cock and then you're matching him, biting your lip as you stroke yours.
He's bigger than you in every way, but he's gentle with himself and that's sort of cute. That he's so careful is cute to you.
You're not real gentle with yourself usually, but you try and stay slow, do as he asks when he requests you spread your legs a little for him, not rush yourself. Fuck he's so hot- the way he's talking to you is so hot.
Each time you speed up, even minimally, he catches you, 'ah-ah's at you and gets you to whine, whimper a little even. Because you want to come, but he's not letting you, just by telling you 'not yet'.
You've been on cam for people before, but no one's ever interacted with you like this. There's never been emotion and feeling behind it like this. The way Eridan watches you, eyes half lidded, having to wet his lips as he keeps stroking himself, pretty much on display for you as he leans back in his computer chair.
"You're a good listener," the tone he uses when he says it gets another whine out of you- you never knew you'd be noisy of someone else was this involved. "Doin' just as I tell you."
Yes, yes you are. Just for him, just as he wants you to, because fuck, you like him calling the shots on this. You like him telling you what to do with yourself.
You know how to get yourself to come, because you're very experienced in jacking off alone in your room... but he doesn't want you to yet, it seems, so you don't. Not until he's speeding up in his own motions, hips twitching upwards just a little in his chair.
"You're so fucking hot, Eridan." You pant, and he looks at you through half lidded eyes, smirking just a little.
"Show me how hot."
Yeah okay, that's enough of a cue for you.
You make a soft little sound that's pretty close to a moan when you speed your hand up enough to get you there, swiping your thumb over the head of yourself, then let your hips buck softly, barely even at all. You spill over onto your fingers, onto yourself, your stomach, and you catch Eridan groaning appreciatively on the other end of call, right before he follows.
He tips his head back a little, his curls falling out of his face as he bites his lip, catching his breath. You're struck hard in the chest with how gorgeous he is, hair still wet from his shower, splayed out in his computer chair like that, a streak of white dripping down his barely-there treasure trail.
"Wow." he whispers, and you're surprised you heard it, but your chest swells with affection for him.
"You're tellin' me."
You think he notices the same moment you do, that you dropped your 'g'. His speech patterns. You've picked one up, even just a little, because of how close the two of you have gotten.
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He calls you with absolutely no warning the moment he gets home one night, and boy is he absolutely livid.
"Oh sure, just, y'know, forget that you have a family you never see. Forget about two kids who maybe actually like comin' home once an' a while for the holidays, that's fuckin' FINE!!" He's rage-cleaning. Eridan is storming around his kitchen, violently cleaning while he has his laptop placed on the kitchen table.
Yes, you know his apartment well enough by this point that you even know which cupboard he keeps his stash of cookies in... so of course you can tell that he snatched you (the laptop) and set you right down on the table before the call had even started ringing on your end.
"Doesn't your brother annoy you though?"
"Yes!!! But like, it's just a fuckin' thing, okay? Christmas is a THING, Sol!" He huffs, and flings a spatula into the second drawer next to the oven.
"It's tradition or some shit. I see my mum an' dad once, maybe two times a year. Cro is only EVER on Christmas." He starts washing spoons. He has more spoons than any person will ever need in their lifetime.
"He always brings some random girl with him on new years, so we stopped doin' it because it was 6 hours of guaranteed awkward conversations, followed by them loudly fuckin' in the guest room while I slept on the couch!"
You can't help it, you make a gross snort-laugh sound and he peeks over his shoulder to glare at you.
"You have the best descriptions of this shit. Really paints a picture" You offer, and he gives you an unimpressed look. You grin anyways.
"Instead of seein' me an' Cro for Christmas, they're goin' on a fuckin' cruise." He grumps, and sets down the spoons.
Eridan slumps down in the kitchen chair in front of you and puts his chin in his hands.
He's always seemed a little annoyed that his parents never seemed to 'share the wealth' that they had. Very much a 'we made our money, so can you' type couple- Baby Boomers, honestly. They're in the 90% of Boomers who think nothing has changed in the last 30 years. It's annoying, and you're so grateful your own family doesn't criticize you for living how you do.
But Eridan's sure do. He has his own apartment and works a decent job, so you think they can fuck right off.
"You wanna go on a cruise?" You ask him, but you're pretty sure he's just feeling unwanted.
"No..." he sighs, slumps a little lower. He's burnt himself out with his little tantrum and he just looks so sad now. "Don't wanna spend Christmas alone."
Oh.
Oh fuck, yeah, no one wants that, you suppose. Especially Eridan. You know him well enough to be aware he's the kind of person who easily gets lonely and melancholy. There's been quite a few days in the last four months that he's been down in the dumps and it's taken whole hours for you to pull him out of it.
You understand that though. The moodiness of it all, especially. You think that might be part of what makes the two of you click so well. Similar attitudes about yourselves, and knowing just what the other needs because it's kind of what you need too, on your off days.
"I could see if my family would be good with you coming to our Christmas thing? We'd probably be on an air mattress. And would have to hear Mituna and his girlfriend fucking..."
Your brother and Eridan's brother are the same age and honestly sound like they might get along.... you don't ever want to find out.
"Really?" He seems a little interested, but not overly enthused.
You shrug, but leave the offer there. They probably wouldn't say no if you asked. Your parents and siblings are pretty open to anything, even though you're sure Mituna might be gross and rude to your boyfriend at first... he'd do that if Eridan was some dainty little girl too, though.
"I don't know, we're not super into Christmas? My sisters are, but Dad's just, whatever about the whole thing. Doesn't mind if we don't come home. Mom is indifferent too. She knows we all have lives and other obligations. She also likes writing letters to mail with presents. Thinks that shit is cute."
"Usually I fly out to see Mum an' Dad. Spend a week there with'em." He sighs, then pauses. "Wait. They don't mind you not goin'? Like, not at all???"
"Nope."
His eyes light up and you know he's had a brilliant idea.
Your boyfriend is too adorable for his own good, because how the heck are you supposed to keep yourself from smiling when he makes a face like that? You're supposed to be being sympathetic, but here you are all heart eyes, motherfucker, and stupid little smile on your face.
"I've got the money for me to fly, but, what if I flew you here instead?" He sits up a little straighter, already grinning.
"Would you wanna spend Christmas with me, Sol?"
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You've never flown before, but everything goes pretty okay, so you suppose the trip home will be fine too... though likely emotional.
You feel sorry for whoever has to sit next to a sniffly neckbeard for a whole flight in roughly three weeks.
Airport food is awesome, but everything is too bright and when Eridan finally texts you that he's at the airport to pick you up, you try not to run to the meeting area, tiny suitcase in toe. Mostly because you don't want to be wheezing like the chubby, out of shape loser you are... but also because you don't think you could stand people looking at you like you're an idiot when you would inevitably trip and eat shit on the tile floor.
You live a hard life filled with the fear of embarrassing yourself in public. This is why you live in your room and never see the light of day.
You're fairly easy for him to spot because 'you're the only idiot wearing a hoodie and heavy jeans in California', apparently. He sees you and speed-walks to meet you and you're so tired but the very first thing you do is hug him.
He presses your foreheads together, but has to bend down a little for you. His laptop never showed you just how tall he was.
"Hi," he whispers, and you feel like crying, because it's so nice to hear his voice without the computer between the two of you.
You clutch his tshirt tighter and he laughs, so sweet and good-hearted. Your piece of shit hipster boyfriend is in capris and a collared Polo, but you're so happy to press your face against him, have him card his tanned fingers through your hair.
"You're tall." you mumble, because it's the only thing in your head that isn't an excited buzz.
"You're shy," he insists, so fond and happy to have you tucked to his chest already. "You make money by obliterating children on the internet, and you're shy in person."
"Just happy to see you," you admit, and he presses a kiss to the top of your hair. You nearly melt onto the floor with how sweet that is, but the sound of your suitcase tipping over and hitting the tile makes you jump.
"C'mon, let's get you t'the car. We can order food when we get back to my place." he pats your shoulder, takes a step back, and dips down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.
You don't let him pull away, and instead snag an actual kiss. One on the lips. Short, sweet, and then you let him go, knowing your cheeks are bright red, probably a little splotchy, and you really don't need more people looking at the two of you.
Eridan's grinning when he takes your one hand, your other tugging your suitcase behind the two of you as he leads you out to the parking lot. He lets go to get you settled in his little car, but picks your fingers right back up once he's on the highway.
As cars and lines blur, you realize how absolutely exhausted you are from the travelling. Not to mention, the suns up, so you're not often out of bed or the house during this time.
You feel him smooth his thumb back and forth over the back of your hand, and you smile, dozy and leaning against the car window for support.
Eridan peeks over at you, smiles at your nearly closed eyes, and gives your hand a squeeze.
"Go ahead Sol. I'll wake you when we get there."
He's so sweet, you hum an affirmative noise at him, and let him ease you off for a nap with the soft, safe movement of his thumb across the back of your hand, content and confident that playing games with this asshole on the internet was probably the best decision you've ever made.