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He takes a long drag of his cigarette, the ash at the tip drooping from how drawn out it is. Aemond wants to milk the filter for every drop of carcinogen it has. For every moment longer he can prolong having to go inside, the ember burning his fingers.
He doesn’t like returning home after work anymore. He takes the longest route, has the most overtime, and stays even off the clock by volunteering to take any extra load off of his other coworkers.
“You look really tired, Aemond.”
He knows that. The purpling hues of his bags are as vibrant as the violet eyes just above.
He has to be normal, he supposes. Not too suspicious, and so, home he has to return to, just after his cigarette.
It’s a fine apartment. Thick dark oak floors, white clean walls with sturdy trim, and clean green tiles in the kitchen and bathrooms. It’s incredibly cold and quiet too. Much too cold and quiet.
Aemond takes his shoes off by the door and hangs up his coat, throwing his keys into the bowl set on the table at the entrance. For all of his junk mail and whatever else he dumps off whenever he goes in and out.
His eyes set on the corner of the table, the wood broken off. Aemond winces, pulling at his tie and moving quickly to get the heaters up and running, feeling irritated by the desolateness of his home.
Quickly the hum and heat begin to settle him down, the darkness of the apartment allowing him to absentmindedly weave through the kitchen, grab up leftovers, and sit as it rejuvenates in the microwave.
Aemond doesn’t even feel hungry, happy, or even tired like everyone says he looks. Aemond just feels numb.
His mind remembers the corner of the table in the entryway, the broken-off piece. Something from the corner of his eye moves by the hall, and Aemond swallows hard. He doesn’t enjoy being home, but he can’t seem to up and sell the place either. Never. Not ever.
The microwave beeps and he eats, no sort of taste or comfort settling in his stomach. It has been in knots and twists for months now.
He leaves the lights off even when he showers and brushes his teeth. Aemond feels if he sees too much of everything, he’ll get lost again. He likes to not think about it. About…about…
He goes to his work desk, his laptop there ready to be used. Aemond isn’t necessarily interested in current events, just the missing person reports and searching the engines for his family name.
The same thing remains. Lucerys Velaryon. 23-year-old male, last seen two weeks before his 24th birthday in June.
There’s so much more to read about him in the article, but Aemond looks at the pictures of him that his sister has undoubtedly provided for the public to use in their search for Luke. He smiles and radiates through the screen even in the form of mere pixels, brown hair upturned in the slyest of places and his smile wickedly serene.
It’s the tiniest bit of peace Aemond is afforded before reality sets in again.
And so he sits for a bit, staring, his fingers tapping. Sometimes in his boring routine of going from room to room, he’d stop by the coat closet at the end of the hallway. When he couldn’t sleep, eat, or even breathe, he’d stand in front of it, the key in his hand and the lock in front of his eyes.
He couldn’t bring himself to unlock it.
Aemond moves finally to exit from the article on the busy website, his mouse moving slowly as the ads and busy pop-ups make his laptop slow down. It was a laggy move through the window, his fingers circling to exit finally.
But on the sides of the excerpts made from Baela and Rhaena asking for anyone with any more information on their brother’s whereabouts to reach out, Aemond’s eyes found a captivating ad out of all of the many.
There was always some weirdly attuned to his location or likes and even what he would usually most search for. Things such as an advert for a new opening complex in the area or a 10-question quiz that could determine if Aemond was depressed or not.
This time though, there’s a screen grab of some sort. A webcam close-up of a male showing his chest and open mouth, a red dot in the corner with the word ‘LIVE’, and the gaudiest text saying ‘Local twink needs dick bad’. He’s got a messy head of brown curls that are so long they cover his eyes and the slimmest waist. Aemond’s fingers hover on the mouse pad to trace the curvatures.
How cruel this all seems. A semblance of his nephew, or rather a defacing of him, next to a cry for help for a morsel of his appearance.
Aemond doesn’t know whether to cry or to laugh. Seemingly, the thick pads of his fingers chose to move for him though, his window suddenly jumping to a new URL, his screen black for just a second.
He’s left in the dark for a split second longer before the monitor lights up again, the fuzzy outline of the boy in the ad making Aemond’s heart stutter in his chest. He’s just as he was in the pop-up, a skinny little thing perched upright in bed on his knees, open legs giving the viewers access to the outline of his hard-on.
Aemond feels his mouth swell with saliva at the sight. He quickly swallows it down, moving to try and exit out of the live before anything else-
“Can I touch myself?” A voice soaked in neediness rings out, all the blood rushing from Aemond’s head to his loins. There’s a chat bubble that bounces up and down, surely some sort of interactive thing Aemond knows nothing about, encouraging the proposal.
“Please?” The camboy inches his face closer into the frame, his lip corners upturning and canines glowing in the light of the computer screen. Aemond feels himself lean in closer, a familiar feeling creeping into his veins as his own prick stiffens.
“I’m not a tease, I promise,” The seductive stranger purrs, leaning back again, bucking his hips in the air as the strain of his briefs tightens, his cock imprint harsh even in the low quality of the livestream.
“Can you let me show you how much of a good boy I can be?” The question hangs in the air as Aemond locks eyes with the dark pupils hiding behind the long fringe of the stranger.
“Yes,” Aemond’s mouth moves, even though he knows he can’t be heard in the dark of his apartment. And yet, the stranger in the laptop croons as though finally appeased the second he has.
“Thank you-” A soft whisper echoes through Aemond’s laptop speakers, his finger tapping the button to increase the volume. He can hear the actual rustles of the sheets and clothing now as the camboy moves to free his cock, precum already seeping through his head. Aemond moves to free his throbbing prick to begin pumping himself alongside the twink until-
“Uncle,” Aemond’s entire body grows cold. His skin pebbles and he feels himself deflate all at once, the person on the other side of the screen lowering his head back into the frame again, a devilish grin on his face.
It’s undoubtedly Lucerys. Even with his face hidden underneath his hair and the grainy texture of the film, Aemond’s blood recourses to his head as he realizes with horror what he is witnessing.
His nephew begins to move his fist up and down the length of his cock, breathy moans flooding out into the apartment as Aemond cannot help but freeze. There is the mole on his neck, the freckles on his knuckles— the cupid’s bow of his pink lips and the upturn of his pug nose.
Lucerys’ image begins to rock Aemond to his core, his cock back in his bottoms and his eyes wide as he tries to make sense of it all. Tries to grasp onto reality again even though the scene of Luke fucking into his hand, bouncing and crying out the term ‘uncle’ again and again, begins to contrast the last memories he had with him.
Pleading and crying on the floor. Twisting and fighting on the dark oak of Aemond’s apartment. Blood seeping from his cracked head from when Aemond beat him down, the corner of the entryway table catching on Luke’s skull.
“Uncle-” He’d cried then as well, his face turning purple and eye veins popping red as Aemond choked the life out of him, never wanting his nephew to leave the way he had threatened he would.
It was a normal fight as couples usually had— or had it been? Aemond could only recall the feeling of his anger as it blinded him and made his hands curl around Luke’s wrist and neck— giving him enough energy to look past the fact that Lucerys no longer breathed in his arms.
To instead pack him in a plastic he had from a new coat in the closet.
Aemond understood what riddled him numb was guilt. Panic and paranoia finally claimed his heart and soul as he watched in silence as Lucerys panted on the other side of the screen, cursing and moaning as he was close to his climax.
“Uncle-” He kept on calling out, whining as he rutted his hip into the mattress beneath him. Aemond couldn’t help but start only barely noticing the setting of the recording, the pillows and bedsheets the same print and layout as the same bedroom he was sitting in.
A cold breeze moved through the apartment as Aemond looked around. The hums of the heaters were no longer, and he remembered again why it was he did not enjoy being home.
“Uncle- I-” Aemond turns his head to the stuttering voice of his nephew, his attention swallowed whole as the lithe body flexes and strains.
“I-I’m cumming…” Lucerys cries out, milking his prick as cum dribbles from his reddened cock head. He hisses and whimpers as he rides out his high, big brown eyes finally looking up into the camera. The chat for the live feed dings out again, expressing how horny they all are. Aemond only feels fear as he moves to type as well, his sentiments different.
‘Lucerys?’ He sends into the flood of appraisals and payments. He doesn’t know why but his fingers begin to move again, urgent to be seen or heard by the entity with his lover’s face.
‘I love you.’ Aemond shudders as he presses enter, the cold wind outside howling all around the outsides of his windows now, the apartment groaning in response.
He doesn’t notice as he watches the boy gather his breath as he reads the comments, a smirk on his lips from all the gifts and compliments. Slowly though, it drops, his lips mouthing the words that Aemond has left.
There is nothing said back. His lips remain slack and unimpressed. Aemond’s hands shake, moving to try and send him another comment again but then-
Luke freezes, the live stream lagging suddenly, Aemond tensing up and swiveling his mouse around his circles as he tries to get it back. He clicks the refresh button and checks his wifi strength as he waits for Lucerys to come back to him.
Though, Aemond feels the familiar waves of his rage swell in his throat and head as the webpage reads ‘404 Error: Page not found.’.
He crashes his laptop into the floor and flings the rest of the contents of his desk everywhere around his room, his arms ripping the chair he was just sitting in off the floor and into the wall. Aemond moves quickly unlike the past few months, stomping back to the entry hall and grabbing his keys.
He flips through them until he’s pinching the smallest one on the ring, the closet door before him as he shoves the key into the lock and twists. Aemond can only feel cold on his bare feet and hands as he moves the door open, his eyes peering down at the plastic below him.
He never wanted to look at him this way, but now he needs to make it real. See the way he’s disfigured and maimed Lucerys, leaving his body to rot in the corner of his apartment as a means to keep him close. His fingers don’t even tremble as they lower to the covering, Aemond pinching the top and slowly widening his arms to open the wrap.
He expects his skin to have grayed and his body to smell putrid. For greens and yellows to pool from his wounds and openings, leaving Luke filthy and unrecognizable. That his hair is dull and falling out of his scalp, the curls a greasy mop of mousey brown unlike his bouncy brunette.
However, Aemond opens the plastic and finds nothing looking back at him. He stares and blinks, certain that his broken mind will finally see what he has imagined as he sat behind the door night after night, but it never comes.
The bag is empty. Lucerys is not there. Had he ever been?
Another cold wave washes through the walls, a groan echoing through the apartment. Aemond feels his skin pebble and body stiffen as the oak floors creak behind him, all the hairs on his neck standing up.
He swallows and drops the plastic, shifting on the balls of his feet as he begins to slowly turn around, his eyes moving up to the end of the dark hall, something else staring back at him.
Its outline almost blends into the black of the shadows. Its eyes are as white as the clean walls all around them. Aemond feels his mouth move before his mind can make sense of it all.
“Lu…cerys?”
A creaking moan drags from the thing at the end of the hall and Aemond feels himself drop to his knees, his hands clutching his head as he swears the shadow begins to drag towards him, angry and desperate.
“Uncle,” The thing whispers, circling him like a vulture. He curls into a ball and rocks, fingers clawing into his face and eyes, trying to drown out the whimpers and pleas ringing inside of his head.
Aemond sinks his fingers deeper, to shield or take away from his senses, he does not know. He only knows the memories that keep replaying in his head the night that Luke left him. The sequence of him grabbing his wrist, Lucerys tripping into the table, and how he squeezed his throat. The way that Luke felt so small inside of his fingers as he held him to the floor, how pitiful he looked just as much as Aemond does now.
“Aemond!” He can hear Luke laugh, a memory of only love and warmth breaking into his mind among all the others. They were happy and whole once. Aemond feels that is the thing that hurts him most, even as his fingers press deepening into his eye sockets, his digits warm as they claw into his eyes.
Only then does the shadow of grief and guilt in the form of his nephew stop taunting him.
_______
Aegon stands outside of a bar he’s been thrown out of, wondering if he should call his sister-wife and bear another silent car road home or ring up his brother Aemond instead.
His fingers move to dial his number, more aware that his younger brother’s depressive state will only last the car ride to the Keep while Helaena’s anger is inescapable even after the engine is turned off.
It rings for a few seconds before he answers, Aegon clearing his throat to not sound too drunk for his brother to turn away.
“Aemond, hey I-”
A choked sound comes through the phone. Like if an old person got socked in the gut, a heaving groan making Aegon grimace and pull away in confusion.
“Aemond?” The line goes dead as Aegon calls out his name again, his brows furrowing as he stares at the phone screen. He redials Aemond up, believing his brother to have intentionally hung up out of annoyance for the other.
But when he presses the phone to his ear, the dialup tone chimes out, along with the monotonous tone of ‘The number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and try again.’.
Aegon scoffs, shivering in the cold as he realizes his brother has finally blocked him. He supposes that Aemond’s patience has always been thin, but more so now that he and Lucerys had broken things off, it was practically deceased.
His hands moved through his contacts, realizing his other option just as it came to mind. Luke hadn’t been seen since the summer. He felt only he knew the truth of the matter once he’d spotted a peculiar bruise on the lower side of his nephew’s back, Aemond quickly jumping in to excuse it. Something about him falling on the stairs, which raised another set of alarms in his head as Lucerys stayed quiet.
It seemed that small recognition made it so Luke could open up about Aemond and his relationship in secret. A thing they kept away from the family as Aemond felt everyone would disapprove. He was right of course, but those words coming from both he and Aegon couldn’t convince Lucerys to be fine with the circumstances he had already.
“If everyone knows…” Luke had drawled off, his lower jaw sporting a strange hue the size of a ping pong ball. ‘Then maybe he would stop hitting me’, Aegon had finished in his mind.
Aegon understood now that the type of obsession and need that ran through Aemond had to be much more than he anticipated when Luke up and disappeared one day. Gone without a trace and so quick that even Rhaenyra was stunned by the whole thing. A missing persons report was filled out and countless pleas hit the news for Lucerys’ safe return.
Aegon snorted, knowing that their requests were never going to be answered or respected, not while Aemond was as unwell as he was.
He dialed up his nephew’s number, wishing the sense of comradery and secrets wedged between them finally made it so he’d pick up the phone. As it rang, he wondered if his sister ever got so tired of the sound from how it appeared as though Rhaenyra called Lucerys every day, hoping he’d answer.
The line sounded out with a rustle. Aegon smiled to himself, his breath waving out in a puff of mist as he laughed into the night.
“Luke?”
A beat of silence pierced in between the reunion.
“Uncle…” Lucerys trailed off warily, certain that there is a catch to his reemerging.