Chapter Text
Edgar had been Draco's fan for four years already; 'fan' was a rather weak word for his feelings.
He'd been saving for two years to go to another concert, coincidentally near his birthday, he paid for the VIP spot in the crowd, facing the stage, and to go to a private event after the show, a fan meeting only for those who paid exceptionally more. He had already bought the ticket; one click and he was broke again.
He was obsessed. Completely fascinated by Draco's magnetic presence and talent since he was sixteen. How confident, charming, and stylish, and how much of a good guitarist he was...it completely drew Edgar more into him. People liked Draco for who he really was; he didn't pretend to be perfect like those plastic-faced singers to sell more.
He was himself, and fuck who didn't like it.
Edgar aspired to be like him, to have everyone loving him regardless of how weird he could be. He projected hard on Draco, imagining he would do the same things as him, have the same world visions as him, like the same songs, possibly the same food and hobbies...
The difference was that everyone adored Draco, Edgar himself included, but not Edgar. Maybe the problem was him and not the things he liked.
He self-harmed daily; working at that shitty store for five fucking years really did stuff to someone; it was a mental challenge, and a big one. Rude clients, dumb boss, annoying coworker... Every day, a reason to hide in that dirty bathroom stall with a box cutter and please himself with his own pain. He had done it for long enough to like it; his scarred wrists barely felt any pain anymore, but it only made him more excited. See the blood flow, it was a weight releaser. It was like draining all the rotten blood, bad emotions and energy so cleaner ones could regenerate.
He thought about Draco while doing it; what would he say? Would he laugh like the kids did when he was in middle school? Would he pity him? Be disgusted? If Edgar was lucky he would bet Draco would help him. It was one of his wet fantasies. The last thing that would get him hard after he started taking antidepressants; Draco clinging to his arm, saying atrocities while he sliced his arm slowly, Edgar crying while asking for more, and his hard dick straining against his pants.
That day was so shitty; the store always got busier as the year came to a close. And it was always near his birthday, people coming in to buy Christmas gifts, on vacation, school breaks...God.
First, some teenagers came in, laughing loudly and messing around with the products like they always did. They laughed at his face when he stared. Edgar always had a special little hatred for teenagers; even when he himself was one a coupleyears ago, they were loud, petty, mean. And they always had a reason to laugh at him. Even when he was too tired to get properly dressed in his style, it was like they sensed he was different.
Minutes after, Colette got too excited with the new mech that came and broke a bunch of the objects. It was a mess...too bad Edgar was kind enough to try to help her get the broken stuff from the ground. Griff screamed at both for losing his precious money, blamed both, and obviously took the money from their payment.
Edgar was in the bathroom, smoking while cutting. Pants on his feet so it wouldn't squeeze his erection.
He must have gotten angry, sliced to the right fast and roughly, the blade touched his dick and did a small, superficial cut. Enough for him to explode.
He went soft at the same second, desperate, threw the cutter and the cigarette on the ground, stepping on it.
"Great, just what I needed now," he grunted and squirmed inside the stall. The show was in three days and now he would go with his dick hurting.
"Edgar?" Colette's voice echoed from the next stall, his eyes went wide.
"What the fuck are you doing in the men's bathroom?!"
"Oh, the other one is broken, haha!" And then she went on, making questions and yapping about random, nonsense stuff. Edgar could swear he wouldn't make it past that day.
After putting himself together, he quietly left the stall and the bathroom, leaving Colette talking to the walls. He wasn't killing himself before the concert, Colette wouldn't do that to him yet.
After his shift he just wanted to go home, smoke a cigarette, drink something, get away from his problems and listen to his favorite band, Dragonforge.
He went straight to his shitty apartment he got not too long ago. Of course the subway ride was insufferable: old people, touchy perverts who always found a way to harass him while standing up, drunks and homeless people. Ugh, the world was so unfair and ugly; maybe after this concert he would finally put an end to it. Maybe.
He fell face first into the mattress on the ground, sighing in relief.
The place was...fucked up for sure, a lot of basic furniture missing; if you were to scan it, it would be something like: the kitchen—a sink, a fridge, a table, a stove and some countertops that the previous owner left behind due to the bugs eating the wood. the living room—a shitty couch and a coffee table, not even a TV, he used his MacBook his parents gave him a few months before he moved out. The bathroom was the most presentable part due to it being already furnished when he moved in—a nice bathtub, sink and toilet. he even got a little rug for it.
The worst of all was the "bedroom" which was all together with the kitchen and the living room. It was a mattress on the ground and a few posters; that was it.
To be honest, he could only afford the place because previously a guy died in there and no one found him for weeks; he left a stain on the bathroom floor, that's what the rug was for.
After some minutes of mourning motionless on his 'bed', he got up to his fridge, grabbed a bottle of cheap vodka, and went back to his mattress to drink it.
He was doomscrolling through his phone, chugging the bottle down like his life depended on it. Then a notification popped up on the top of his screen, he checked, it was from the band's official account. He quickly pressed the screen to open it as fast as he could. He was the first; Edgar barely used his socials, and when he did, it was for stuff like this.
It was a 'story' uploaded, he never got the kick of it, he kept watching the video. It started showing Lumi fixing something in her drums; Edgar wasn't that much of a Lumi fan to be honest...he, at best, tolerated her. Maybe it was all of the other fans trying to force a relationship between her and Draco. In Edgar's opinion they had no chemistry. It was childish; she had no fault whatsoever about that, but he couldn't help but dislike her.
Then she looked at the camera and made an annoyed face, Draco's laugh came right after.
His heart skipped a beat; Draco was the one filming.
He turned the camera to face him, smiling reassuringly.
"Heyy, hope you guys are excited for friday's concert! 'Cause we for sure are about those sold-out tickets!" The more he spoke and laughed worryless, the more Edgar would smile to his phone. Already drunk. "We'll be waiting for you all on Star Park!" He ended it with a zoom on his face, tongue out and his free hand doing the horns sign. And then the video ended. It felt like taking the iPad from a toddler.
Edgar repeated the video countless times, pausing it on Draco's smile every time.
'it was for me,' he thought with his drunk mind, referring to the video. 'He could have posted it anytime; why when I just came home? He knows I'm seeing this..."
The boy took multiple screenshots of the video where Draco was on the screen. God, he could be so cute. For a moment, Edgar asked himself if Draco ever felt like him; useless, a depressed failure. It was a closeness he would commonly force on his head.
Before Edgar could notice, he had a drunk boner straining inside those tight jeans. Ugh, why did he wear those anyway? Struggling to pull his pants down, he squirmed around the bed, grunting, annoyed at his clothes. After an unfair fight with the jeans, he finally freed himself. The erection popped out nice and hard, already leaking pre-fluid on his mattress.
He didn't wait for it, grabbed his device and went straight for those screenshots. Edgar squeezed his dick as he kept staring right into "Draco's" eyes, ignoring the cut from earlier, tearing up and whining a little when he did so. He started slowly, moving his hand up and down and using his own fluids as lube.
What would his idol do if he were there with him? It was a common thought, every time Edgar would touch himself he imagined it, and now it wasn't any different. Edgar closed his eyes, imagined it was Draco's hand caressing him up and down, saying the most filthy things known to men. It made him whimper, melting on that mattress.
"Draco..ffuck" his eyes rolled and he moved around the bed, ass up as he kept masturbating. "cum inside me, fill me, knock me up- God-" Edgar cried out, the alcohol making him even more needy to the point of moaning his name like that, out loud.
He looked again at Draco's face on the screen, speeding the pace on his shaft, moaning like a slut in heat. —"Please... Draco—ffuuuck!" Oh God—"
Quickly reaching his climax, Edgar spilled it all over the phone and ruined Draco's beautiful face with his semen.
He was panting, crying as his legs trembled.
"I love you..."