Chapter Text
First Meeting
"Hello, my name is... Nice to meet you.
I think you're famous; where have I seen you?"
—"Ready or Not" Bridgit Mendler
Aeric
Gurge is the one who knows most of the story.
He and the rest of his chemistry study group had shown up to school for a study session when suddenly the whole thing just... crumbled. They ran for cover—but atop the rubble, emerged the last person anyone expected to defeat the dragon: one Ian Lightfoot, brandishing a wizard staff.
Ian's in Aeric's Lit and History classes. He's in Chemistry while Aeric has Advanced Physics, still takes gym while Aeric has study hall to make up for all the practice time taken up after school and on game nights. He doesn't say anything in class except to answer a direct call when their teachers try to make sure he's participating. He always sits in the back.
When they come back to school a few weeks later, there's a change in Ian. He starts sitting at the front of the class, starts presenting with confidence and raising his hand to contribute. He confesses that he knows how to do magic, and all of a sudden, everyone wants to be his friend.
That's when Aeric starts noticing.
Ian has these huge, expressive brown eyes and a slightly crooked smile. He gets a little sweaty when he's nervous. He has a tendency to stick his tongue out when he's concentrated on note taking.
Aeric tries not to stare too much in their shared classes. Whenever he thinks Ian might be looking back, he pushes his glasses up his nose and pretends he doesn't notice.
That's when he asks Gurge about Ian: is he fun to be around? Is he as smart as he seems? Is he fun to study with?
Gurge looks like he's about to snap Aeric with a towel just to shut him up. "What, Kelby, you got a crush on him or something?"
Gregor, the team's QB and team captain, is the one who insisted on the team calling Aeric by his middle name. It's a nice name, but he's always resented it.
It's what she wanted to call him, before his dad thankfully insisted on Aeric, after his grandfather.
Aeric sighs. "I'm just trying to figure out how to say hi."
Gurge chuckles. "To answer your real question, I don't know if he likes guys. But never say never."
It takes a lot for Aeric to flush, but this has his ears pinker than usual.
History is their last class on Tuesdays. Tuesdays are also the one day a week where Aeric doesn't have to practice after school. Usually he grabs some coffee, goes home, and has an awful tendency to work out while he's reading.
This time, Aeric swallows his nervous energy. It's kind of weird to follow Ian to his locker while trying not to look conspicuous, isn't it? Tina, head cheerleader and Gregor's girlfriend, tries to flag him down, but Aeric politely dismisses her for now.
He runs a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. Then he leans against the locker next to Ian's; he's a good six inches or so shorter than Aeric.
"Hey," he says, trying to be casual. "You're Ian, right?"
Ian pauses, looks around like there might have been another Ian in Aeric's vision. When he realizes Aeric's talking to him, he flushes, looking him up and down.
No. Oh no. Aeric hates when people stare at him like that, like he's too good to be talking to Ian. Yes, he's the Dragons' runningback; yes, he's pretty fit, and the contrast between how he looks and how Ian looks might be a bit funny at first.
But he's just a guy, trying to talk to another (admittedly, very cute) guy.
"Who, me? Yeah," Ian replies after a moment, and Aeric watches his knuckles grasp tighter around his backpack strap. "And you're... Aeric Aldheim."
It's a statement of fact, not a question.
"I am." How is he supposed to break the ice when Ian's so in awe? But Aeric notices what Ian's wearing. "Nice sweatshirt. I hope I get to go there one day."
Ian looks down a moment, like he'd forgotten he'd slipped it on. "Oh, thanks, me too," he replies. "It was my dad's—he went there."
That's when Aeric notices the small "Lightfoot" embroidered in purple above the Willowdale logo. He can't help but smile. "So... funny story." He finally knows what to talk about.
"Hm?" Ian looks up, but one of his hands is rummaging through his locker.
"When... the school was destroyed, the team had to find another school to practice. We ended up at Willowdale. The other guys, they complained about the commute, but I dunno... I got a feel for the campus, and the stadium." He can feel the grin on his face grow the more he talks. "Their runningback even came up to me and said I had promise, which... I mean, I can't even believe it." Oh gods, is he rambling? Does Ian even know what he's talking about?
Aeric clears his throat. "I guess I just wanted to say 'thanks.' I probably wouldn't have even had this opportunity if... you know."
"If I didn't blow up the school?" Ian finishes. But he's smiling, at least. "That's really cool. Usually when people thank me for what happened, it's always said with, like, fifty layers of irony and sarcasm." He stuffs a book in his backpack.
This gets Aeric to chuckle. Ian's pretty funny. "No, trust me, this is pretty genuine." And now, the clincher. If Ian rejects, Aeric can always play it off as friendly, not... well, whatever the hell he's trying to go for. "So, uh... what are you doing right now?"
"Right now?" Ian repeats, rolling up his sleeve a bit to look at his watch. "My brother usually picks me up, but he just got a new job and I think he's training right now. I was just gonna take the bus home and do homework. Why?"
"I know this coffee place, like, a couple of blocks from school," says Aeric. Can Ian hear his heart pounding? Because it's pounding in his ears. He scratches the back of his head to look casual, but all he notices is that his undercut's getting a little shaggy and he should touch it up soon. "If you want, we could study there together for a bit."
Ian bites his lip, but to Aeric's delight, it's to hold back a grin. "Sure!" he blurts out, kind of loud. "I don't know coffee, but it sounds fun."
Aeric offers to give Ian a ride home afterward, and that seems to ease Ian when it comes to how long the bus will take after a certain time. The moment they're seen walking out of school together, he can feel his phone blowing up in his back pocket, which can only mean Tina must have seen them. Aeric Aldheim, New Mushroomton High's prized runningback, walking with Ian Lightfoot, newfound wizard. What could be happening? Where could they be going?
"I noticed you're not carrying around your staff," Aeric points out. "No need to do magic at school?"
Ian waves a hand. "That was really just a prop for that History presentation," he says. "Mom says if I start bringing it all the time, I'll be pressured into using it for other people."
Given their student body, that's not a far fetched idea. Aeric nods. "That makes sense," he says. "How did you even know you could do magic?"
"Um... it's kind of a long story," warns Ian. "You sure you want to hear it?"
Please. Like Aeric is even thinking about studying when he could be getting to know Ian. Homework can wait. "I'm all ears," he replies. The coffee shop is already coming up on the next block.
There's a twinkle of mischief in Ian's dark eyes, like he's just thought of something. "What?" asks Aeric.
"Race you to the coffee shop. Loser pays for the winner's drink!" He's already off, sprinting.
Even with the head start, Aeric knows he can still beat Ian if he wants to.
But he doesn't.
Grin plastered to his face, Aeric jogs behind Ian and loses to him by just a hair (he has to at least pretend Ian won fair and square). He holds the door open for his winner. "Well, fair's fair. What can I get you?"
Ian squints his eyes at the menu, like he can't tell the difference between a cappuccino and an iced blended. "Um..." he starts, "what do you recommend?"
Aeric thinks about his diet. It's skim, sugar-free syrup lattes for him for the rest of time. But when he wants to be bad...
"How much caffeine are you looking to consume?" he asks.
"Not very much," Ian confesses. "It's a school night. And doesn't caffeine stunt growth?"
That makes Aeric chuckle; he's so cute, trying to be good. "Iced blended," Aeric decides. "It's more like a milkshake."
Hearing that makes Ian's ears perk up a bit. "I like milkshakes."
A vision of them at some vinyl-covered booth in a diner, two straws sharing a single milkshake while Ian holds his hand across the table, flashes briefly through Aeric's mind. He needs to stop having such an active imagination—so far he's had no indication if Ian even likes him, let alone like that.
"Good," he says. "What's your favorite flavor?"
"Chocolate chip?"
They don't explicitly have that on the menu, but Aeric has been in this place enough to know that if you get bored enough, you can make a drink out of pretty much anything and invent something new. And he's going to make sure Ian gets exactly what he wants.
He orders his usual latte and the customized drink for Ian, but when he turns around, Ian isn't there. Aeric can feel his heart stop for a moment; he didn't just—
"Aeric, over here!" Ian flags him down at a booth by the window, where the sun is shining through to make their lighting better. He sighs in relief, heading over to set his backpack down across from Ian. He's never been stood up before, but he has a feeling that if it came from Ian, it'd hurt so much more than any of the other guys in which he'd previously been interested.
Their drinks are made pretty quickly, and Aeric hides his annoyed expression as he hands Ian's over.
"Is that how you spell your name?" he asks, taking a sip. "Mm... this is delicious, thank you."
"Uh... no." Aeric's nose scrunches, knowing the baristas got it wrong, again. Today he's "Arik." He tells Ian how his name is actually spelled.
"Oh, that's... different." Ian's drinking this iced blended like he's going for a record. "I like it. It's better than my name."
Aeric chuckles, taking a sip of his latte. Definitely better than the sludge at Satyrbucks. "I dunno—'Ian' is really suited for you."
"It's short for 'Iandore.'" Aeric watches Ian's face scrunch up, and is there any expression he can make that isn't automatically adorable off the bat? "Barley calls me that every once in a while, but I prefer 'Ian.'"
Aeric fights the urge to say something too flirty in reply. "Well then, Ian—indulge me, before you finish off your drink: how did you figure out you could do magic?"
Ian goes into this huge story about his sixteenth birthday, about how Barley tried a visitation spell to resurrect their father for one day, whom Ian never met. Aeric is immediately sympathetic; he can't think of a life without his dad, but at least Ian has his older brother. The more he talks about their adventure, from the Manticore to Ian's first drive on the freeway against Pixies, Aeric is hooked. He's enamored. Ian's hands are waving around to describe every detail, and he's not thinking too hard about what he's talking so animatedly. When he's unhinged, his eyes go big, and Aeric can gauge that smile: kind of crooked, but something he wants to keep seeing. He hopes he doesn't look like some love struck idiot.
Aeric laughs when Ian tells him about the bridge, and can feel himself inclining forward by the time Ian describes a gelatinous cube. Hearing the story from Ian as opposed to Gurge just adds so much weight and heft—this epic quality you can't get from hearing it secondhand. Ian talks about how powerful and confident magic makes him feel, and Aeric can sense that just hearing him speak.
"Wow" is all he can say in response, taking a huge gulp of coffee. Sure, he's asked the occasional question for clarification, but for the most part, he's been staring open-mouthed and wide-eyed at Ian. He's amazed. "You're incredible."
The comment immediately brings Ian back to his more reserved self. He tries to process it with another huge gulp of his drink. "I wouldn't say that," he says. "I mean, you've done some pretty amazing stuff, too. Way more than just one thing."
True, Aeric's got a few things going for him: last year he was New Mushroomton's youngest runningback on the varsity team, he's pretty smart, and he's not ashamed for who he is or what kind of people attract him. But when it comes to Ian, taking less than twenty-four hours to practically master some advanced magic, that's something else entirely.
Ian is slurping down the last of his iced blended, taking off the lid so he can scoop up the whipped cream residue with his straw. Aeric can't remember the last time he had a drink like Ian's—definitely before he joined any team and suddenly diets were a very real thing. "I guess so," he decides. "But I'm not some larger than life genius. I'm just a guy who likes physics and playing ball."
"A really nice guy," Ian points out, pointing at Aeric with his straw. "Even Barley makes me pay for my food when we go out."
Aeric chuckles. "Hey, you're the one who made the bet in the first place."
"'Cause I knew I'd win taking you by surprise!" Ian's laughing, too, and the sound is infectious, absolutely sweet. "Maybe Willowdale should recruit me for their team!"
"At least I'd know they're in good hands," says Aeric. "There's no one else I'd be okay losing to besides you."
It's enough to get Ian to flush, but Aeric kind of means it. After a moment, Aeric can feel Ian playfully kicking him under the table.
"You're just saying that so I'll lose the next race and I have to pay for you."
They're actually... kind of flirting. Aeric lightly taps Ian's foot back. "Maybe. A good ego booster always shakes things up. Besides, don't you believe in equality?"
Ian laughs, but when han looks outside, he notices they've been talking so long that the sun is getting low in the sky. "Oh, gosh—we've been talking so much we didn't even get to any studying!" he exclaims, gathering up his backpack. "I should probably be getting home."
"I did offer to drive you," Aeric points out, reaching over to take Ian's cup. Talking to Ian is just so easy, given he always looks so attentive, like he really wants to listen. And the more Ian talks, the less flustered he is, really given a chance to shine.
Maybe he can say this next thing without it feeling too forward. "If... you still want to study and you're having a difficult time with homework, maybe we should exchange numbers."
Ian blinks, freezing halfway out of the booth as he thinks about what Aeric is also kind of implying. "Sure," he says. "And... maybe we can sit together during class."
Aeric grins, holding the door open for Ian. "Nothing would make me happier."