Chapter Text
He could tell she was a transfer student. By junior year, all the girls had long given up on making an effort for an 8am botany lecture but here she was all bouncy hair and shiny lips. And she didn’t look like a freshman. She didn’t look twelve.
He obviously sat next to her.
He put a seat between them in the auditorium because he wasn’t an animal, and clicked his pen open.
“First day?” he asked, voice still a little gravelly from sleep. His third year at Rask University, he knew how to get from bed to class in 17 minutes.
“I’m pretty sure it’s everyone’s first day. Seeing as it’s the first day,” she said, barely giving him a glance.
He smiled at his notebook as he doodled in the margin. The professor ambled in with a little canvas wagon full of papers, books, and cords but they had a couple minutes.
“But is it your first first day?” he pressed, watching her press her pen into her lips. She was gorgeous and he brought a leg over his knee just in case he got a boner. He was in joggers and he didn’t want to be a fucking pervert. Visibly, anyway.
“It is,” she said, voice curt.
“Want to know how I know?” God she was unpleasant. He just wanted to annoy her now.
“No.”
“It’s because you haven’t adopted the uniform,” he answered anyway. He tilted his chin to a girl a few rows over, hair in a shitty limp ponytail and university sweatshirt.
The professor was plugging her laptop into the projector cords, looking irritated. A technological savant, he thought meanly.
She turned her head towards him, looking like she was about to incinerate him with her mind. “Are you implying I’m not like other girls?” she tilted her head, eyes narrowed.
Well. He knew a trap when he saw one.
“What’s your name?” he dodged.
She took a deep breath and he smiled, pleased that he had gotten under her skin so quickly. He supposed it was a little early for chatting whether he was being annoying or not.
“Nesta,” she said, not looking at him anymore. She opened and closed some tabs on her laptop, pretending to look busy.
“Nesta?” he said, making a face. Sounded like an STD.
She turned her head quickly, her lip curled a little bit. “Yes Nesta. It’s Welsh for Agnes and if you don’t like my name then you can keep it to yourself.”
She must have gotten this a lot.
“Shan't say a word, Agnes,” he said, palms up.
“And what’s your name then? Something extraordinary I’m sure,” she hissed at him. Actually hissed. He looked to the professor who was now fiddling with a lapel microphone. He glanced around and saw the auditorium was nearly full. He hadn’t noticed.
“Eris,” he said, trying to sound proud but he supposed it was a stupid name.
“Error? Fitting.” With a final look over, he was summarily dismissed.
***
He didn’t think of her.
Much.
He definitely noticed that she ended up being lab partners with a redheaded girl in the super religious sorority. And he definitely noticed the way she speed walked out of class so he could never catch her to chat, if he were so inclined. And, okay, he also noticed that she always looked fantastic three days a week at 8am and again at lab. It was becoming a game at this point, to see when she’d finally give in to comfort like the rest of them. He made sure to sit near her in lecture too, just in case she had something to say to him. She never did.
But he never thought of her on the weekends, when he went to bars and was often, thank you very much, balls deep in beautiful grad students. And he didn’t think of her when working on his other, more important homework. And he never looked for her outside of botany. And he never wandered around the student union and people-watched hoping to catch sight of the beautiful blonde blur. (Was she blonde? He wasn’t sure. Blonde adjacent.)
Except on Halloween, he saw her at The Forest House pub where they had half price shots for everyone in costume plus a free appetizer if you won the costume contest.
She looked…well. Not at him. She wore some sort of viking costume with her friends, winged crowns on their heads with plastic shields and axes. It was cute, if you were into that sort of ethereal goddess warrior thing. Which he was not.
He looked down at his stupid Stephen Nedoroscik costume. Red joggers, and white tank top with a sharpied USA on the front, fake bronze metal, glasses, and a rubix cube. He supposed he could have chosen something manlier like Thor or something but that felt cliche and Eris wasn’t a cliche sort of man.
The girl he was flirting with and planning on taking home touched his arm to get his attention. He focused back on her. She was a ketchup bottle.
Urgh.
He pretended not to notice Nesta going home with a massive dude bro in a speedo and bat wings.
He got a blowjob from the ketchup bottle.
And he got the free mozzarella sticks.
He didn’t solve the rubix cube.
***
In lab one evening, the redhead, Gwyn he’d discovered, was absent and Nesta was at the table alone. Before he could even say, “I’m gonna be hold on bye,” to his usual lab partner he slid into the seat next to her.
The screech of the stool made her jump and she glared at him. “Can I help you, Error?”
She remembered him. He sat up a little taller.
“Just thought I’d be your lab partner today, Agnes. Wouldn't want you getting confused being all by yourself.”
She scoffed at him, disgusted. “I have the highest grade in the class, try again,” she said, bored.
He tried a different tack, feeling flustered by her again. Why was he always annoying when he was with her? He wasn’t an annoying person. In fact, usually he was the asshole in the interaction being annoyed, not the needy little mosquito.
“I see you haven’t caved to the sweatsuit peer pressure yet,” he gestured to her outfit. It was six o’clock on a Tuesday for their weekly 3 hour botany lab and she was still immaculate.
“Well, unlike many of my pampered peers, I actually have a job which I have just come from. Not all of us have daddy’s money to coast on.”
He clenched his jaw, irritated, because he was, in fact, coasting on daddy’s money. He had an internship he went to two days a week though, but it was his dad’s friend who offered it. Still. He didn’t tell her that. He also hated his father but he didn’t think that would gain him any sympathy.
“Hmmm, what do you do?”
“I’m a clown at children’s birthday parties.”
“What? Really?” he asked, surprised.
“No.”
He laughed, pleased she was fucking with him. This was the most progress he’d had with her ever.
The grad student who taught the class walked it, looking like he just rolled out of bed at 5:30, wearing socks with slides. He told them their lab that day was studying different types of fungi. Eris believed it was divine intervention that kept him from making a fungi/ fun guy joke. He silently thanked them for saving Eris from himself.
“No really, what do you do?” he asked, when they returned to their table with their supplies.
“I work in finance,” she said at last, prepping her slide.
“Really?” he asked, copying her. He wasn’t paying attention at all.
“No.”
“Damn it, Agnes!”
“That’s not my name, Erisss,” she snapped, hissing his name. Gods she hissed a lot. He liked it.
“Well you can call me whatever you want, Nesta the Besta.”
“What if you give me your number and I’ll call you whatever I want, whenever I want,” she said, voice low.
Eris’s head snapped up, banging his nose on his microscope. “Wait, really?”
“No.”
There was no more talking after that.
***
He didn’t have an opportunity again for ages. It didn’t stop him from coming up with stupid names for her anyway, just in case.
Most of them probably would be considered sexual harassment so he didn’t plan on ever calling her Blessed-a in the Chest-a or Under Arrest-a for being too sexy.
He did finally see her speed walking across the student union, kicking up leaves like an exhaust trail. He could probably accurately call her Stressed-a.
He followed her, he just wanted to know what she did when not in class.
Her hair was up in a sort of braid crown he associated with milkmaids. She had a gorgeous neck. Could people have gorgeous necks? Would he sound like a serial killer if he told her so? Or a vampire? And she was more casual than usual. She was in jeans and a cropped sweater, a strip of toned abdomen on display.
God she was hot. Like, painfully, agonizingly, distressingly hot.
She got in line at the cafe and he got in behind her. He should eat now anyway, he had a break.
She was tapping away on her phone when someone who looked just like her came and stood next to her. Twins?
No. Not twins, but damn near. This girl looked a little younger. All freckles and in uniform but same blonde-adjacent hair, same ramrod posture.
He couldn’t help himself. He cleared his throat. “Agnes, I didn’t know you had a sister.”
She turned slowly, face unimpressed. “Why would you?”
“Who’s this?” the sister said, eyeing him thoughtfully.
“Nesta’s favorite lab partner,” he teased. Nesta rolled her eyes.
“A nuisance. Ignore him.”
Feyre, who was now Eris’s best friend, held out her hand. “I’m Feyre. What lab partner?”
“For botany.”
Feyre turned to her sister. “What are you doing still taking breadth classes? I thought you finished those.”
Nesta grunted and it shouldn’t have been sexy. It wasn’t. At all.
“I did, but one didn’t transfer. I need one more to meet requirements and this seemed the easiest. I thought Elain could help me.”
Feyre laughed. “And is she helping you?”
Nesta smirked. “Of course.”
Feyre snorted and rolled her eyes. “That was smart. I should have thought of that. I took astronomy like a moron.”
“Yes well, from what I hear you’re getting a little extra credit from the TA,” Nesta sing songed.
Eris’s eyes bounced back and forth between them, pretty sure they forgot about him. The line had moved forward and the girls ordered their lunch.
He stayed close, eavesdropping and ordered quickly, following them to their table as if he’d been invited.
“It’s not like anyone would believe I slept my way to a C. I’m not worried about it,” Feyre said, dismissively.
Nesta grunted again as Eris pulled out a chair, half expecting her to tell him to beat it.
Feyre took a bite and talked with her mouth full, “Fo you’re wab ‘ar’ners?”
“Feyre, don’t be vile,” Nesta sniffed. Eris covered his smirk with a napkin.
Feyre rolled her eyes again, looking at Eris like “Can you believe her?” Eris was…charmed, he supposed. He didn’t have sisters of course, but he imagined all sisters were just like this.
“Sometimes, when she lets me,” he said, winking at Nesta. Her face remained impassive and the desire to crack her increased a hundredfold.
“No, my partner is Gwyn, who you’ve met,” Nesta corrected, shaking her salad.
“Oh yeah, the religious girl,” Feyre said with distaste.
“Don’t start. She’s nice,” Nesta objected.
Feyre waved a hand. “Yeah yeah. They all are until they aren’t. Then you’re going to hell or the underworld or whatever.”
“You’re projecting. Not everyone is like Ianthe,” Nesta said.
Oh, her. The zealot who came to campus with her hellfire signs. He was intensely curious what that story was about but he’d rather they were talking about him. He cleared his throat.
“So what are you studying Feyre?” he asked politely. He thought he might have better luck with her than Nesta to get the conversation going. Let Nesta see that he was actually Very Normal and Enchanting.
“Art. Painting specifically.” He glanced at her clothes and saw light splatters that he hadn’t noticed.
“Any good?” he asked.
Feyre sat up tall, chin high. “Yes, actually. It’s only my first year here, but my professor already said I’ve found my style.”
That didn’t mean anything to him, of course, but he nodded like that was amazing. All he knew about the art world was that it was a great way to launder money.
“And you?” he turned to Nesta like he just remembered she was there.
“Women’s studies,” she said, taking a bite.
“Really?” he asked, that actually sounded true.
“No.”
God dammit!
“What are you studying?” she asked, reaching for her phone and typing out a message. She wouldn’t look at him.
He wanted to laugh at what a bitch she was but he could see the smirk she was trying to suppress so he assumed she was flirting with him. He hoped.
“Engineer.”
“Hmm that explains a lot.”
“What? What does that mean?” he asked, alarmed.
“Oh, you’re not even aware of it. Interesting. Nevermind. Don’t worry about it.” She waved a hand in his direction to bat away his concerns.
Eris wasn’t aware of what? Did he reek of engineer? What that even mean? Did he exude loser energy? No. He knew that wasn’t true. Or was it?
Eris would love to say that didn’t give him psychic damage, but then he’d be a liar. And while Eris was also a liar, it didn’t change the fact that he was psychically damaged.
“But it seems unwise for an engineering firm to hire someone named Error. I wouldn’t want to drive on a bridge designed by Error, would you, Feyre?”
Feyre, to her credit, seemed to not be inclined to annihilate him like her sister, but she also wasn’t going to save him.
“No, but I don’t check the name of the designer for any bridge I drive across.”
“Hmm perhaps we should. Lives are at stake, after all,” she gave him a sidelong glance and it was the most beautiful she’d ever looked. He felt his stomach clench.
“You’ve damned my career, no one will hire me now. I don’t know if I can call you Nesta the Besta anymore. Nesta Not So Besta, actually,” he said, instead of asking her to step on him.
Nesta hid her smile behind her cup as she took a sip. She chewed on her lip a moment before meeting his eyes. “Can I make it up to you?”
Eris wanted to jump out of his seat. He wanted to scream that Nesta whatever the fuck her last name was asking him out. Maybe. Actually no she didn’t. Wait.
“Uhh,” he thought, “Study with me tonight. In the old wing of the library?”
“I don’t really need to study…” she taunted. God.
“Please be my study buddy, Nesta? For ruining all my future prospects? Please be my Guest-a, Nesta?” he pleaded. He glanced at Feyre to see what she thought of all this, and she gave him a tiny thumbs up. Excellent.
Nesta glanced at Feyre too. “I’ll be at the library tonight, in the old wing. With Eris in case I get murdered.”
Murdered? Wait, did she accept?
“I need your full name and phone number, Error,” Feyre said, “just in case.”
“Murder? In case of what?” he asked, baffled. Were they going to the library or not?
“Yes. In case you murder my sister. I want to give the police your full name.”
“Why would I murder your sister,” he asked not keeping up at all.
“Because she’s aggravating, for starters. Do you want a list?” Feyre said, eyes on Nesta.
Nesta sneered at her.
“And it’s girl code,” Feyre said impatiently.
Eris realized there was so much he didn’t understand about the world. And women.
He waited till Feyre pulled out her phone, “Eris Alexander Vanserra…” he watched as Feyre typed in his info and saved it.
He had a date.
***
Eris was at the library early. He’d hurried home after classes to shower and put on clean clothes, but not clothes that made him look like he was trying too hard.
Except Nesta always made an effort so maybe he should look like he tried a little after all.
He also packed condoms. If Nesta could do her version of precautions then he could do his, he figured. He hoped five were enough.
He couldn’t even imagine it. As much as he thought about it, which was hardly ever, he couldn’t imagine what she’d look like naked. Or what sounds she’d make.
All he had to go by were her long legs always hidden in wide billowy trousers and that strip of belly from today. And her neck. And her grunts and hisses.
God.
He tried not to imagine her hissing because she was so sensitive as he worked her with his tongue. Or that grunt as he hit deep from behind. Or her long bouncy hair messy and stuck to her glossy lips. Or-
He snapped his gaze back to his computer. He had a short essay for a poem he read that night. Though Eris was too literal for poetry, he did his best.
He hadn’t heard her come up behind him.
“Comic sans, really?” she said, disappointed.
He closed his eyes. He must have a humiliation kink, there was no other explanation for why he kept seeking her out and showing his whole ass every time.
“I heard that it can help with writer’s block,” he said as if she was the one who should be embarrassed.
“Hmm writer’s block, cock block, comic sans can do it all,” she said, sitting down across from him and taking out her laptop.
He snorted. “Definitely don’t expect any cock action to need blocking,” he lied, half expecting the strip of condoms to slide out of the messenger bag to incriminate him.
They didn’t but he did move his bag to the floor, just in case.
He finally looked at her and saw that she was in uniform. Exercise leggings, tanktop, and a jock-y cardigan, she looked like a college student. Her hair was in a wet braid and her beautiful face was free of makeup. He didn’t stare at her. He focused on his laptop and logged all the new shapes to add to his fantasies from his peripherals.
“Hmm. I’m glad you’re capable of being a gentleman, Comic Sanserra.”
Fuuuuuuuck .
“That’s Mr. Sanserra to you. Get it right or better yet, forget that name entirely, lest you regret it. Nesta Regret-sta,” he fumbled. Why didn’t he know her last name?!
“Regret-sta? That sounds like pasta that gives you diarrhea,” she said dryly.
He very nearly told her he had the same thought when he first learned her name. That Nesta sounded like something that requires a prescription cream. But he didn’t because he was a gentleman, as she’d just said. And, her name had grown on him quite a bit. Nesta Vanserra was a nice name. Melodically, that is. No other reason. Eris could appreciate the trochee syllables or whatever.
He went back to his essay, and made a note “trochaic or iambic?” His font taunting him in its juvenile glory.
After a few moments of Eris pretending to focus, Nesta broke the silence.
“Why are you taking botany anyway? Shouldn't you have taken that already?”
He nodded, keeping his eyes on his screen. “Engineering is very math heavy, I saved a few of the easier non-math classes to have in my schedule to avoid burnout,” he said, sounding reasonable. Finally.
She hummed again. She hummed a lot. He mentally added it to his Nesta Sounds library.
“That makes sense,” she said. “My schedule is too full for that. If it’s available, and I need it, that’s it,” she said, already typing away on her mystery assignment.
“What are you working on?” he asked, not terribly interested. Unless she was writing a dirty fanfiction.
“My botany paper, I got stone fruit,” she said absently.
“Already?” he asked, surprised. That wasn’t due till…fuck. Two weeks.
He closed out of his depressing poem and started researching conifers with a sigh.
***
Nesta was nicer after that. Their successful study session proved that Nesta liked him best when he wasn’t talking.
Fair.
They had a few more study sessions and he continued to delight her with always using comic sans even when he didn’t have writer’s block and she continued to call him that stupid name.
Things could be worse.
They could be better, obviously. When he told his brother Lucien that he was sort of maybe kind of seeing her, Lucien described what he and Nesta had as “parallel play.”
“You know, like toddlers do when they don’t know how to play together.”
That set back Eris’s confidence for a couple days, he could admit.
Finals were approaching, though, and thus Nesta was in the library a lot whether Eris invited her or not. She never objected to him sitting with her. And she didn’t mind when he started sitting next to her in their lecture class though she still only worked with Gwyn in lab.
They’d have an Autumn Wedding.
That night, however, he decided to stay in. He wasn’t dejected persay, but he just needed a break from all of it. It was tiring trying not to be a lecherous cretin, he deserved a night off.
He was studying for his calc final when his phone pinged. He glanced at it, seeing an unknown number.
N: Where are you? The library has too many attractive people here, we need you to balance things out.
Rude.
E: Dad?
N: It’s Nesta, you’re missing out on my spectacular flashcards.
E: Nesta Studying for Testas? Prove it, show me your breastas.
He bit his nail, sure he went too far, unless?
A photo came through but before he could get his hopes up, he saw it was a photo of Nesta’s chin and parka covered chest. He laughed.
E: Hot. Literally. Why are you wearing a parka inside? You fucking freak
N: It’s cold without you. I don’t have incandescent rage keeping me warm like usual.
Was she flirting with him? Did this count as flirting by my metric? He went for it.
E: Come over then. I’ll chew with my mouth open just for you
N: Send me your addy
No fucking way. He sent it quickly, having to redo it a few times when his thumbs were too eager.
He looked around, frantic. He threw all of the dishes in the dishwasher, food and all, and slammed it closed. He picked up all his crap and shoved it in a hall closet. He went to his room, and stripped the bed putting on clean sheets. With one sweep of his arm, all the cans and wrappers on his desk went into an empty amazon box he hadn’t taken out and shoved that under his bed. He opened the windows, trying to get the smell of 21 year old man out.
He looked at this clock and took a three minute shower so he’d smell like soap, at least, and shoved everything on the counter into the drawers. God, why was he so fucking messy?
As soon as he tugged up clean joggers, he heard a knock. He looked in the mirror and flexed just to make sure he still had it.
He did.
He gracefully vaulted over the sofa, disappointed she didn’t get to see him clear it, and opened the door.
She was so cute. Bundled in the early December cold with a knitted acorn themed beanie on her head and a large parka. Her pink cheeks told him she must have walked.
“Sanserra,” she said in greeting while he clocked back in at the Lecherous Cretin factory. He tried to get his mouth to work.
“Over Dressed-a. Come in.” He stepped back, eyes skimming his apartment. It looked good. Like he was a tidy young man, worthy of some under the clothes action.
She came in, unzipping her parka and Eris reached new levels of lust for her. She was in exercise clothes again, but just leggings and a sports bra. This one had a zip on the front pushing her, apparently , huge breasts up and together like a pirate wench. Her toned stomach was bare and- he had to look away.
He walked into his small kitchen to take a moment. She was here. In his apartment. Barely dressed. Why why why??
“Something to drink?” he asked, remembering his handle of Grey Goose in the freezer.
“Root beer float would be great,” she said, sitting on the sofa, turned towards him.
“Uhhh, I don’t have any of those ingredients,” he said, slowly. “What.”
She smiled and shrugged. “Well you didn’t tell me what you had, did you? I had to guess.”
“And root beer float was a very reasonable assumption,” he said dryly, pulling out White Claws for them. Girls loved White Claws.
He handed her one and she eyed it warily before cracking it open and sitting beside her. She took a sip, rolling it around in her mouth before nodding approvingly.
“Never had one before?” he said, opening his and taking a swig.
“No. I’m not a big drinker anymore, and when I did it was usually harder stuff,” she said. “But this is alright. I should remember myself.”
What the fuck did that mean?
“Were you a party girl, Nes?” he asked, intrigued. She looked like she called the police on parties for fun.
“I suppose to an outside observer, that’s what I was.”
He desperately wanted to press but he wanted things to be light so he switched gears. He’d keep an eye on her though, just in case. He didn’t like the implication that she had been reckless and she had walked here…
“What's your full name? I don’t think I know.”
“Nesta Siobhan Archeron. Why? You want my birthday and mother’s maiden name too?” she teased.
“Your name has ‘shiv’ in it? And archers? Two weapons?” He wanted to laugh, she was so so hot. Though, Archeron fucked way harder than Vanserra. Maybe he’d take her name instead. Or hyphenate, Archeron-Vanserra? Christ. Theoretically, of course.
“I’m sure Siobhan doesn’t actually mean homemade prison knife, but sure. Archeron is obvious, that’s true. And Eris, I already know, is the Goddess of Discord. How very appropriate,” she hissed the word goddess and Eris felt a shiver run down his back. He was developing a Pavlovian response to her hissing at him and he should probably be concerned.
“Thinking about me, Shiv?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound desperate. But she clearly did. She thought about him even when he wasn’t right in front of her being annoying, this was proof. Eris had reached the level of object permanence and it would be smooth sailing from now on.
“How could I not? You’re very disruptive. Like the little chirp in a smoke alarm that you try to ignore before eventually getting a ladder to change the battery,” she said, turning towards him.
“That’s a very specific comparison. I think I want to be the ladder in this metaphor,” he said, thoughtfully. “Helpful but a little dangerous.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you saying if I’m not careful around you, I’ll be grievously injured?”
“No…” he said, aware that he’d absolutely lost control of the conversation. “I want to be the battery now. Purely helpful.”
“Full of acid?” she said, relentless.
He hit his hand on the sofa. “I’m tapping out. You win. I yield,” he said laughing. Fuck, she was impossible to flirt with. It was exhilarating though. None of his usual tricks worked at all.
She took another sip of her drink, smug. A dimple popped out in her cheek that he’d never noticed before. Impossibly, since he stared at her all the time.
And then, like the Goddess of Discord herself whispered into his ear, he had an idea. Despite Nesta being happy to win, he thought she wanted him to win. Maybe. Hopefully. He’d been so passive around her, waiting for an in but maybe she wanted him to do all the work. Be a man or whatever. Like that speedo bat from Halloween who’d clearly been able to do something in a couple hours that Eris hadn’t been able to do in months.
“Come here,” he said, voice low.
She tilted her head at him, “Why?”
“Because I want to kiss you,” he said, going for it. The semester was almost over and if she rejected him cruelly, he would deal with it. He could weep into his cashmere sweaters over Christmas, but he needed to know.
“And what about what I want?” she said, setting down her drink.
“And what do you want?” An image of him with a ball gag flitted through his mind.
“To crack open your head,” she said, scooting closer. It was a toss up whether she meant literally or not.
“I’m an open book,” he said instead, feeling breathless.
“Nay nay. You’re full of contradictions. Like sometimes you have the personality of Comic Sans,” she started. He dropped his head back on the sofa, already defeated. “But sometimes you dress like Garamond.” She swung a knee over his lap, settling on his thighs. He had been making more effort lately. It felt good that she noticed.
She leaned it, grazing her nose against his cheek, “But you speak utter nonsense, like Wingdings,” she continued.
“Flattering…” he said, laughing and closing his eyes. “There’s something about me that’s 100% Impact though.” He ground up against her, letting her feel his meaning. Christ, he should have been letting her do all the flirting. She had themes and there was more touching.
“And yet, so many errors,” she said, pinching his ribs. He flinched, ticklish, and looked at her through hooded eyes.
“And now we’re full circle, Shiv. Very romantic, bringing up the day we met.” He trailed his fingers up her thighs, still hesitant to touch her despite his decision to be more forceful. He gripped her thighs and pulled her closer. Fuck it.
She sighed, actually sighed , and ran her hands up and down his chest.
“Say my name,” she said, mouthing at his jaw.
“Nesta.”
“Again.”
“Nesta Nesta Nesta, he chanted. “Which is trochaic trimeter,” he added, like a wingding.
His hands moved into her hair, pulling out the elastic and working her braid loose. He sucked on her neck before whispering “Say my name.”
“Erissss,” she hissed.
He was done for.
He kissed her, mouth already open. She melted into him, her hands going to his neck. God she could kiss. Her mouth was hot and her tongue was divine and finally having her in his hands had Eris feeling light headed.
He ran them all over her, feeling her shape and pressing it against his. Her thighs felt hard and toned and her ass was so squeezable. He knew she was gorgeous, but finally having the data was overwhelming.
To his utter shock, she unzipped her sports bra and he pulled back to watch. The flesh pressed together as she undid the secret hook inside until she shrugged the bra off. Her perfect breasts settled and Eris had never been more certain of his heterosexuality.
He palmed them, some primal lizard brain part of him oozed dopamine at how good it felt to hold breasts. The weight. The softness. They were the whole package. He lapped at a nipple and Nesta gasped, he groaned feeling harder than he’d ever been in his life.
She ground against him, her fingers sliding through his damp hair. “Why haven’t you asked me out?” she asked, a little breathless.
What? He pulled back to look at her. Why hadn’t he asked her out? Because she hated him, for starters. But that hadn’t stopped him from following her around like a stray dog.
“Uhhh, I didn’t think you wanted me to?” he said it like a question.
“I see you all the time. You’re always talking to me. You never even gave me your number, you gave it to Feyre.”
He tried to focus on her, all the blood still in his cock and her breasts were right there in his face.
Was that all he needed to do? Say her name and ask her out? The two things he, for some reason, had not done? Is that what the bat did? Say “Hey Nesta, want to get out of here?” Was there any hope for him at all being this fucking stupid? Did his mom lie to him when she told him he was the smartest and most special boy in the world?
He blinked at her, in a crisis. “Nesta, will you go out with me?” He half (okay more than half) expected her to say “no” like she always did. Her little game that left him begging for her.
“After finals, yes. Are you staying around over break?” she said, looking…happy? Happy with him?
“Yes, I’ll be around,” he lied. He mentally prepared to break his mother’s heart but she would understand. Probably. She had a lot of other sons, at least, she would only be missing 14% of her children.
She kissed him again, and Eris reveled in it, still confused as to how this happened. He had a date with Nesta Cool As Fuck Archeron and it sounded like she wanted to see him over the whole break.
He ran his thumbs lightly under her breasts. Before he could attempt to escalate things again she pulled away, reaching for her bra.
Drat.
He leered at her as she threaded her arms through it. And kept leering as her breasts did magical things while she hooked and zipped them into their contraption. God she was sexy. It wasn’t fair.
When he finally dragged his eyes away to look at her face, he blushed at her knowing smirk. “I should go,” she said. “I have a study group in the morning.”
He blinked. “I thought we were doing flashcards?”
“I didn’t make any flashcards,” she said, getting off his lap. “Walk me to my car? I left it in front of the library.”
“Uhh yeah. Okay,” he said, mind whirling. He stood up, his massive erection obvious in his joggers. She leered at him, too, which was not helpful at all.
He cleared his throat and grabbed his coat, hoping the cold air outside would clear his head. No flashcards? What did that mean?
He closed the door behind him as they moved down the stairs, she grabbed his hand and linked their fingers. He squeezed back, wondering if he made some sort of devil’s bargain that he forgot about.
The walk was short and quiet. Eris was afraid of ruining whatever good luck he’d just had by saying something wingdingy. When they got to her car, a surprisingly shitty Nissan Altima. He looked at the neat interior and noted it was a manual. He decided Nesta driving a stick shift was incredibly attractive.
He stumbled as Nesta leaned against her door and pulled him with her. She kissed him practically begging him to press her against the car.
He’d been right. She wanted him to be in charge. He leaned more heavily against her and she went pliant. Pliant. He groaned into her mouth and urged her up with his hands on her thighs. She wrapped them around his waist.
Her parka was noisy and despite his fleeting fantasies, he couldn't unzip it and to escalate anything. It was too cold and the parking lot was too busy and well lit.
Leave her wanting more.
With one last sweep of his tongue, he pulled away. The steam of their breaths mingled in the air as they caught their breath. He set her down.
“Can I study near you tomorrow?” he asked, half joking. He didn’t want to crash her study group, especially since he had his own work to do. But he could look at her, couldn’t he? Maybe he’d just happen to have extra snacks in case she needed one.
She pursed her lips. “You may, of course. I don’t own the library after all. Though that means I’ll lose my bet with myself to keep you from learning about my job or major.”
“I promise not to listen,” he lied. “I’ll only stare at you like a pervert from afar.”
“Oh well in that case,” she said. They lingered and Eris felt like a lovesick fool and had to physically restrain himself from kissing her again.
“Good night, Nesta,” he said. He brought her gloved hand up and kissed her knuckles.
She rolled her eyes at him, though her cheeks were pink.
“Good night, Error. I’ll see you at 9,” she said, eyes on his mouth. He deserved an award.
He backed up at step. Then two. Three. Before turning around to head home. He heard her get into the car and start it up before he felt it was safe enough to turn back. He waved as she backed up. Her shifting was excellent, of course, just as he knew it would be.
He smiled to himself as he walked home, trying to figure out how his night ended up the way it did. It didn’t matter. He had a date and he had to call his mom.