Chapter Text
“Okay, we need a good movie for our first-ever cinema club showing,” Aiden announces as he, Claire, and Ben linger in the courtyard after school. “I’m thinking Casablanca or The Wizard of Oz. I mean, both are classics, but can you really beat—”
“Look, as much as I would love to hear whatever this is, I have to go,” Claire says, turning back toward the building.
“Where are you going?” Eric asks.
“The newspaper,” Claire replies. “I’m in charge of this big feature piece, and the editor is a control freak.”
“I didn’t know St. Jude’s had a paper.”
“Yeah, no one really reads it with Gossip Girl and all that, but we’re always looking for fresh blood.”
“Oh, no.” Eric shakes his head. “I can’t write.”
“Please, half the people there can’t write. Besides, you could do research or something.”
Eric does like reading the paper. And his mother was always saying he needed more extracurriculars. He’d always secretly liked the idea of running some tiny newspaper in a quaint little town someday, but that wasn’t the kind of life Eric was supposed to want.
“I don’t kn—”
“Eric!”
A shout cuts through the conversation. Eric looks up to see none other than Asher standing in the courtyard.
“Who’s that?” Ben asks, the entire group now staring at him.
And honestly, it probably was an odd sight. Someone like Asher calling out for Eric van der Woodsen of all people. Eric himself can barely believe Asher came all the way to St. Jude’s just for him.
“He’s my... my friend,” Eric says quickly.
“Look, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He rushes off before anyone can say anything else.
“You better, because we’re watching The Godfather!” Aiden yells after him.
___
Eric catches up to Asher at the grand gate at the front of the courtyard, where he casually leans with his coat hanging open off his shoulders.
“You know phones exist, right?” Eric says after finally catching his breath.
Asher shrugs. “I was in the area.”
“Oh.” Eric replies, still slightly dazed that Asher is actually here.
“Are those your movie club nerds?” he asks, nodding toward the group, who are very obviously still staring at them.
“Oh, yeah.”
“So you’re actually doing that.”
“I mean, they’re all really nice.”
Asher hums noncommittally.
“Why don’t you join lacrosse instead?” he says. “Then I wouldn’t have to come all the way over here when I miss your pretty face.”
Eric feels his heart leap straight into his throat.
“And you could make friends on your own level,” Asher continues lightly. “It’d make more sense for us to know each other then.”
The words twist strangely in Eric’s chest.
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good.”
Asher reaches over and straightens Eric’s tie for half a second before dropping his hand again the second a group of students passes by.
The movement is so quick Eric almost thinks he imagined it.
“Come on,” Asher says casually, already starting toward the street. “I’m starving.”
___
He and Asher spend the whole day together.
They get burgers and share a basket of fries.
They duck into side streets just to steal a few hurried kisses before laughing and pulling apart again.
They walk Asher’s many dogs through the park and try to come up with a name for Eric’s puppy. Asher’s suggestions are predictably self-absorbed.
Eric laughs at all of his jokes anyway. He listens to Asher complain about his mother and the lacrosse coach and the school counselor who wants him to ‘apply himself’.
Asher even buys him a lacrosse stick.
And somehow, by the end of the day, Eric feels lighter than he has in months.
He’s never had someone who only wants to be with him, talk with him, and understand him.
(Maybe it feels a little heavier whenever Asher abruptly stops talking and drifts a foot away when kids their age walk past.)
But that’s just how it has to be.
It’s not like Serena and Lily with their impossibly public relationships and dramatic breakups splashed across Manhattan.
Eric doesn’t want that.
Or at least he tells himself he doesn’t.
Sure, sometimes he thinks it would be nice to hold Asher’s hand without having to check who’s watching first.
But that’s not the point.
“I have one more surprise,” Asher whispers near his ear.
Eric turns toward him immediately. “What?”
Asher just smiles slightly and waves down a cab.
___
The Unity school building is way more modern than St. Jude’s. Gray and sleek, with a perfectly clean path cutting through the courtyard and rows of sharply trimmed grass.
“What are we doing at your school?” Eric asks.
Asher just shushes him and jingles a set of keys in front of his face.
They’re breaking in.
Which is honestly kind of funny. If someone had told Eric a year ago that he’d be sneaking into a school at night with his boyfriend, he probably would’ve assumed they meant Serena somehow.
But here he is.
Asher slides the key slowly into the lock before dramatically pushing the doors open with a grin.
“After you,” he says.
Eric laughs under his breath and steps inside.
The halls are dark except for the faint glow of emergency lights reflecting against polished gray floors. Their footsteps echo as Asher grabs Eric’s wrist and pulls him deeper into the building.
“How did you even get keys to this place?” Eric whispers.
“I told my swim captain I wanted extra practice time.”
That’s when Eric finally realizes where they’re going.
The pool.
He catches the sharp scent of chlorine before they even reach the doors.
“Oh my god.” Eric laughs. “I can’t remember the last time I went swimming. I’m not really a swimmer.”
“Well,” Asher says casually while unlocking the pool doors, “maybe I can change that.”
The lights flicker on.
The entire room glows blue.
Eric stops for a second, staring at the massive empty pool stretching beneath the ceiling lights. The water ripples softly from the ventilation overhead.
Asher starts taking off his shoes and socks, throwing his coat on the pool deck.
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit.” Eric says hesitatingly.
“Neither did I.” Asher says, now taking off his shirt.
Eric didn’t know what to do or think.
He can feel Asher staring at him as he slowly unbuttons his pants
I mean it makes sense
people swim in their underwear all the time.
And my god did Asher look…
Nice.
Really nice.
Like oh my god I forgot you played lacrosse type of nice.
The usual thin scratchy sweaters and school uniforms Eric was used to seeing him in did him no justice.
And he wanted Eric.
Baby faced, short Eric. With his choppy bleached hair that he let Serena dye because she wanted too, and his twiggy arms that have never even seen a dumbbell.
And somehow he wanted Eric.
He went in the pool.
___
“Oh my god,” Asher says, watching Eric float around the pool. “Eric van der Woodsen actually having fun. Alert the masses.”
“Haha,” Eric replies dryly before splashing water at him.
“Oh, you're gonna regret that.”
Before Eric can react, Asher sends a wave of water back at him.
“Hey!”
Eric splashes him again.
Asher splashes harder.
Within seconds, they're both laughing.
Eric loves moments like these. Whether he's with Asher, Serena, or even Jenny.
Moments where he can stop thinking.
Stop worrying.
It's like floating on your back in a pool with your eyes closed.
You don’t have to do anything for the water to hold you up.
It just does.
___
Eric feels a hand wrap around his waist.
“What are doing?” Eric questions softly, turning around to face Asher.
“Nothing.” Asher says, before smirking and leaning to give him a deep kiss.
Eric feels himself blush and giggles in between kisses. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this.
Asher slowly starts to make his way to Eric neck while pulling down Eric’s boxers.
“This okay?” He whispers softy.
Eric nods.
That’s what he’s supposed to do.
You listen to your mom’s relationship drama and she’ll come home.
You give Serena advice and she’ll take you along on her latest side quest.
You join a club and they let you sit with them at lunch.
Asher’s been dating him for months now.
It only makes sense that he’d come and collect.
___
Eric is still shivering and soaking wet by the time he gets home.
“What were you doing out so late?” his mother asks from the couch, where she sits beside Bart, her newest future husband.
He doesn't answer.
His room feels different.
Nothing has changed, but it feels different anyway.
The dog immediately jumps onto the bed beside him.
“What are you doing?” Eric asks, looking down at him. “Aren't dogs supposed to know when something's screwed up?”
The dog only scoots closer.
Eric scratches behind his ears.
“You're like a giant teddy bear.” He says numbly.
The dog rests his head in Eric's lap.
“I used to have a teddy bear,” Eric says. “I called him Comet. Like the dog from Full House.”
The dog blinks up at him.
“I loved Full House.” Eric smiles faintly. “I used to pretend I was Michelle and make Comet follow me around everywhere.”
The smile fades.
“It sounds kind of stupid now.”
The dog nudges his hand.
Eric swallows.
“I stopped playing with him after Mom lost him.”
He pauses.
“The second time she redecorated the penthouse.”
For a second he can actually picture it.
The old penthouse.
His small twin bed with train track sheets.
The nanny on the wooden rocking chair that would always let him pick the book.
Watching tv on the red couch with Comet.
Then nothing.
Just another thing that disappeared one day and never came back.
The dog- Comet presses closer.
Eric buries his face in the thick fur.
His eyes start watering.
He doesn’t try to stop them.
___
Serena comes to see him.
She’s in love.
She doesn’t ask about his wet clothes.
Instead, her eyes start to water because her boyfriend loves her.
Eric tells her what she needs to hear.
Because Eric is the wise sibling.
The easy child.
The one who will listen to everything.
The perfect little plus one.
That’s who he’s supposed to be.
And that’s who he’ll always be.