Chapter 7 Niko
Niko
Username: Dragonfly
The good still outweighs the bad. The creepy comments stand out, but there are so many more that lavish me with praise.
Someone called me a “demi-god.”
Another person said I’m the hottest guy on the app, by far.
So many people just thanked me for the amazing orgasm I was able to provide for them. And as always, I notice some names more than others.
You can’t choose a favorite child…
But you can choose a favorite viewer.
Hercules2210: We don’t deserve you, Dragonfly. Fuck, I could live a thousand lives and never get sick of looking at you.
I hear the rumble of metal music coming through my cousin’s door before I even push it open.
I walk inside and the smell of fresh tangerine fills the air.
Sevan’s music is deafening, and he’s sitting in his chair, lifting two gigantic dumbbells in reps over his head.
“Sev. Turn that shit down.”
He groans under the weight of his dumbbells, grimacing as he looks at me. “Remote is by the speakers. You do it.”
I finally find the remote and I see a bowl full of tangerine peels next to it. I turn the music down halfway, looking back at Sev as he finishes his set.
“What’s with the oranges?”
He roars as he finishes his last rep and drops the dumbbells to the floor. He pulls in a sharp breath, his biceps and traps bulging even more than I remembered.
“Tangerines are the perfect workout food. Light but energizing. Also, hello to you, too, Niko.”
“Jesus, your arms are absolutely fucking jacked,” I tell him.
“Got to work something out, when I can’t use my goddamn legs for months.”
Sev’s wheelchair is at the edge of his bedroom, and he looks at it like it’s a third person in the room.
It’s heartbreaking to see the two casts on his legs.
Sevan is a fucking badass, and he always has been. I’ve always been “troubled,” but Sevan actually knows how to play society’s game while also being a badass in between.
He’s strong. He has more tattoos than me. He’s always gotten in physical fights, too, and growing up, he was my favorite kind of bad influence.
But Sevan also is good at school, and grades, and charming authorities in a way I’ve never been able to pull off.
Usually he’s organized and on top of everything in life, but…
Clearly the injury has been hitting him hard.
“This place looks like a bomb shelter,” I tell him. “Please don’t tell me you’re actually living like this.”
I stride toward the far window, pulling open the window shades.
The dying orange-pink light of sunset floods the room and dust motes float in the air. I grab the bottom edge of the window and shove it upward, letting crisp air in.
“Cold,” Sevan protests. “And bright.”
“Refreshing, and necessary. It’s sunset, and it’s cloudy. How is that too bright?”
He shades his eyes with one hand and gives me the middle finger with the other. “The sun is coming in under those clouds like a spotlight. I like my cave. You used to keep your room dark all the time, too.”
I grab one of his pillows, which are haphazardly placed all over his bed, and I move it up toward the top.
“We need fresh air before snow starts coming down. And I never lived in vampire mode like this, Sevan. This room looks like another person hasn’t been in here in weeks.”
There are empty bottles of protein shakes on every surface.
I instantly launch into fixer mode.
I strip the bedsheets and put them into a pile to take them down to the laundry. After a good amount of cold, fresh air has come into the room, I shove the window closed and gather empty water glasses on his nightstand and put them into neat stacks.
“Didn’t know I was going to get the Mom version of you tonight,” Sevan mutters, running a hand through his hair. “My room’s not that bad.”
“This isn’t you. I think you’re well aware of that.”
The final glow of sunset casts shadows over his face, and I see him try to smile.
There’s so much sadness behind that smile.
So much disappointment.
The cousin I used to do everything with, looking broken for the first time in his life. He used to be a force of nature, playing hockey all the time, getting into trouble and somehow always getting out of it, unwilling to slow down.
He lets out a long sigh.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he finally says.
“God, Sevan.”
I walk over to his chair and lean down, wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug.
This semester, he was supposed to be MVP on the Crimson hockey team, and take his spot as one of the leaders of Double Daggers. Even though I’ve always made fun of him for joining a secret society, I know it means a lot to him.
I squeeze him again before I pull back. “You know, the Onyx guys say their house is better than the Daggers house, but you’ve got it pretty good here.”
“The Onyx guys are full of themselves.”
“Aren’t you Daggers guys, too?”
He gives me a look. “Weston Knox is a pain in my fucking ass. Last year he broke up a fistfight I got in at a party. Said it was a bad look for society guys to fight. Fuck that.”
“You’d fight a goddamn cardboard box, though. Maybe Weston was right.”
Sev gives me a bitter glare, and I know he wishes he could fight me right now, too.
Sevan uses his arms to shift on his seat. “Anyway. I have my own room, even if it’s small.”
“What have you been doing in here?”
“Jerking off.”
“Nice, Sev.”
“I swear the moment my legs are healed I’m going to fuck someone new every goddamn night. Not having sex has been the worst part.”
“Worse than not being able to walk?”
“Yes. Much worse.”
“Nothing’s stopping you from having someone come sit on your dick in bed, is there?”
He gestures around the room at the disarray. “I think the only thing preventing that is my own lifestyle. It’s not as if I’ve been feeling very proud of bringing anyone in here.”
“I’m sorry. It blows.”
He hums. “I might not be able to play hockey anymore, but I’m becoming a human encyclopedia.”
He nods over at his desk, which is covered in books, most of them sports biographies or books about classic cars.
“Christ. You have more books than Oliver does.”
“Who is Oliver?”
I wave a hand through the air. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t tell me you’re already dick deep in some poor, innocent Crimson guy and you’ve been here for a day and a half.”
Well, technically, yes.
I walk by the window again, and the sun has finally set completely. The clouds are rolling in fast, and I see a few tiny snowflakes beginning to hit the panes of the window.
“Oliver Ashford,” I tell Sevan. “He’s a member of Onyx, and he’s… interesting.”
“That’s how you describe every guy you hook up with.”
“Remember how I used to bitch to you about the hockey rival I had in high school?”
Sevan lifts his eyebrows. “The one who drugged you?”
“Yes.”
He blinks at me. “You’re living in the same house as that prick who drugged you?”
“Chill. It turns out he didn’t do that.”
Sevan is a year older than me, and we went to different schools growing up. He never knew Oliver, but clearly I complained about him enough to leave an impression.
“And now he’s an Onyx brother,” Sevan says, squinting out toward the clouds. “Naturally.”
“If you see me with him, don’t think anything of it. He wants me to pretend to be his boyfriend for the winter parties.”
I know I’m not supposed to tell a soul about my arrangement with Oliver.
Oliver would wring my neck if he knew I was telling Sevan.
But there’s not a chance in hell I’m lying to my cousin, so I’ll have to have that little secret from Oliver. He doesn’t need to know I’m telling Sev.
“Of course you’d get into a situation like that,” Sevan says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re always in… interesting predicaments with your love life.”
“Sevan, for someone I love, someone I’m supposed to be taking care of, I’m two seconds away from knocking you out.”
“Sorry. How is shit with Callum, by the way?”
I bite the inside of my cheek the moment Sevan says his name.
Fucking awful.
Worst it’s ever been, actually.
He’s threatening me, he may have threatened you, and I’m planning on killing him if he comes within a hundred-foot radius of you or anyone I know.
I’ve never been good at hiding when I’m pissed. I turn away so Sevan can’t see the bitter expression on my face, and I grab the vacuum at the edge of his room.
“Callum’s a piece of shit,” I finally say.
I turn on the vacuum, glad that the sound of it fills the room so I don’t have to talk about that snake.
The truth is that I have no clue what to do about Callum, because if I did what I want to do, I’d be thrown in jail. I have no clue how real his threats are. I dated him for a couple of months, and the longer I was with him, the stranger his behaviors became.
At this point, I barely feel like I never really knew Callum at all.
When I met him, he just seemed like a rich guy who was older than me, a photographer who was addicted to harsh drugs in his teens but had really cleaned up his act. Now, I’m not convinced about that. It’s completely possible he’s started taking drugs again, and could act erratically at any point.
I take it around the whole room, meticulously getting every corner and under Sevan’s bed.
When I finally cut the power, he’s watching me with his hands clasped on his lap.
“Never seen someone angrily vacuum before.”
I pull in a breath and release my grip from the vacuum handle. “It’s fine.”
“Clearly.”
Sevan isn’t buying my bullshit.
“Callum doesn’t deserve the air I’ll waste even saying his name. He’s still taking the breakup poorly, as you can probably tell by the shit-fit comments he still leaves on my pictures. He insults me, but then when he gets drunk he texts me late at night saying he still loves me and wants me back.”
“I want to crack his skull. When my legs are healed, I might do it.”
I know that if Sevan ever tried to fight Callum, Callum would be obliterated.
But if Callum actually did get to him while he’s injured…
I’d rather not have to think about that.
“Can we talk about anything else other than him?”