A/N: This chapter is pretty short, but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless! Thank you for reading, and I'd love to know your thoughts!

Eric had been hooking up with Kyle in virtual reality every night for just over a week now, and they already had their routine down. All in all, it took them about 8 seconds to place the Universum on their temples, choose their characters, and to start kissing and groping each other. It was a timeframe that suited Eric, he was too impatient to wait any longer than that, especially when he had to go all day, counting down the hours until his next fix. Because nothing had ever felt as good as this, there was little that could compare to it; not bingeing on his favourite food, not masturbating, and not even his favourite pastime, fighting with Kyle, felt as intense. Although he was wary at first that this exciting new activity would threaten the latter. He wanted both, and didn't see why he couldn't have it, but was worried that Kyle would be too weirded out to act normal around him, to respond with his usual acerbic bite.

But despite a brief adjustment period, nothing much had changed. For the first day or two Eric had found himself wanting to stare at Kyle more. Not because he was interesting to look at, but it was hard for his gaze not to be drawn to him when their late-night hook-ups were all he could think about. It was mortifying when Kyle caught his stare, like they were both terrified they had revealed something they shouldn't have just by looking at each other. But that shock faded away, had been buried away so as not to jeopardise this. Honestly, Eric was pretty proud of the both of them. He felt as though they may have found the perfect balance. People may say you can't have your cake and eat it, but Eric knew that if you achieved the right amount of mental distance from your actions, then it was possible, and it was so easy in a virtual reality. In here you could fight your friends, make them bleed, break their bones and in a matter of seconds the blood would dry up, and the bones would pop back into place. In here you could even fuck your friends, touch them and scream unabashedly, and you could still be cool with them the next day. For so long Eric had tried to make his own world one with no consequences, now he had finally found such a world he sometimes wished he didn't have to leave.

Currently, they were in a nightclub, surrounded by dancing, sweaty bodies. The music that was pounding from the speakers was pretty lame, the bass wriggling in his gut, but Kyle's hands were on Eric's waist, hips, ass, and he was looking only at him. Kyle had been reluctant at first, since dancing wasn't really his thing. Eric didn't know why he wanted to join the jostling crowded himself, why he wanted to dance to the clichéd techno music except that he knew he looked good, and that Kyle looked good too, and if the people around them weren't pieces of disposable, flaky code pretending to be a person, then they would be envious of this hot couple in the middle of the dancefloor, so clearly into each other. It didn't take much to convince Kyle when he lowered his chin, and bit his lip, and held his hand out to him. Kyle acted like he was begrudgingly pulled onto the dance floor, but Eric knew he would do anything to be close to him... to 'Amber'... whatever, that bitch was him so Kyle wanted to be close to him.

Kyle's face switched from hot pink to electric blue as the lights flashed, blared, and twirled, their own chaotic choreography. His contented smile and lidded eyes never faltered, and he tilted his head and leaned in closer until their noses were brushing together. Eric was the one to kiss him, nails pinching his biceps. His eyes drooped shut when Kyle shoved his tongue in his mouth, hands squeezing his ass and pulling them close, bodies connecting. They kissed, sloppy, and eager, and off-beat to the music for a little bit before Eric decided he couldn't wait anymore. Their lips parted, and Eric took Kyle's hand and began to lead him away from the dance floor.

"Where are we going?" Kyle shouted in his ear.

"The bathroom!"

"Huh? What... now?"

"Yeah!" Eric nodded, turning around and arching an eyebrow because this was the first complaint Kyle had ever raised. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No! It's just... can we go somewhere else? I don't wanna fuck you next to a bowl of piss!"

Eric huffed.

"It's either that or the alley!"

Fifteen minutes later Eric was bent over, his hands pressed to a brick wall, palms stinging and scraping as Kyle fucked him fast and rough. Eric was close, and he could tell Kyle was too. He always squeezed him a little tighter, his groans and pants tripling, climbing in desperation. The big, sharp intake of breath Eric took just before he came stung more than the brick scraping against his palms, the sound breaking open a series of sobs as he reached his climax. Kyle had cum too, bodies still rocking together with the slow, indulgent aftershocks. Eric felt him slump after a while, his hold on him loosening, apologetically stroking areas most likely marked pink with the indentions of his fingers.

Trying to catch his breath, Eric rested his forehead against the wall, barely acknowledging when Kyle pulled out of him. Fingers threaded through a lock of his hair. Eric turned around, flushed, and hazy, and trying to blink his eyes open. Kyle was smiling at him, wide and beaming. Eric returned it, the corners of his mouth piquing up even when Kyle's lips were pressed to his. Kyle placed his hands on the wall now, pushing Eric up against it. Post-orgasm, the world was dripping back into focus for Eric. Kyle's kiss and warm body pressed flush to his made up for the gleaming, black garbage bags, and the dumpsters, and the garbled chatter of people a few feet away from them, lining up to get into the club.

"It smells like shit out here..." Eric murmured against his mouth.

"And the bathroom would've been better?"

"This smells like a hundred, literally shitty bathrooms combined."

"You didn't seem to mind a minute ago..."

"You were fucking me. We could've been in a sewer surrounded by racist Christmas poos doped up on sleeping pills and I wouldn't have cared."

Kyle chuckled, kissing Eric again before they parted so he could tuck his dick back in his pants. Eric ran a hand through his hair, and fixed his panties.

"Um... did they tell you about that Grand Canyon trip in homeroom today?" Kyle asked, zipping up his fly.

They liked to keep conversation to a minimal before and during sex, but there seemed to be some strange exception for afterward. Pillow-talk, Eric supposed, it wasn't unusual.

"Yeah? Sounds dumb... what are we gonna learn from a bunch of craters in the desert?"

"Since when did you actually care about learning?"

"I don't. But if they're gonna take us on a pointless trip that's not educational, they should at least take us somewhere fun."

"So you're not going then?"

"Well, yeah, of course I am..." he fidgeted, suddenly interested in the grimy ground. He figured he should stop acting like a dumbass and look at Kyle. "Are you?"

Kyle nodded.

"Good," Eric said, serious. "You guys aren't ditching me."

Kyle smiled and rolled his eyes, before he raked them over Eric. It sent a familiar shiver down his spine, recalling what would usually follow after Kyle looked at him like that. Even in this world, he was becoming so predictable. Kyle kissed him again, and Eric gladly welcomed it.

"I'm gonna go," he murmured, pulling away. "See you tomorrow."

Eric nodded, smiling.

"Yeah, see you..."

"Exit game!" Kyle called, vanishing right before his eyes.

Eric is stood in the alley where he and Kyle had... if not their first fight, then their first kiss. That is, the first kiss in the world they escape to, the first kiss that mattered. But this alley feels hazier than it did before, holographic, like Eric could put his hand right through it and rip it apart. He tries to, and sees his own hand. Chubby fingers, and short nails, what the fuck?! He pats his chest, soft and flat. He pets his face, and feels stubborn peach fuzz. He looks down and it's his body, ordinary and permanent and it unnerves him because, where ever he is, it doesn't feel real, or solid. He feels like a mirror reflection. There's a disconnect between his mind and his body, and even though he surrenders his consciousness to the Universum every night, this strange absence of control over himself is frightening.

"Ready?"

Eric looks up and Kyle - the real Kyle - is there. Grinning, fists raised, eyes menacing. Kyle doesn't look at all perturbed in whatever warped, uncanny version of their virtual world they're in.

"What the fuck?! Kyle, what the hell are you doing here?"

Kyle shrugs.

"Same thing as you, I guess..."

"Wha... what kind of answer is that?! I don't even know what I'm doing here!"

Kyle snickers, but his eyes are dark and focused on Eric.

"I'm gonna fuck you up, asshole..."

A shiver rolls down Eric's spine, his gut clenches, and it's the most tactile thing he can register in here. It makes him nauseous, he has no idea what Kyle is talking about, or what his words actually mean.

"Huh?" His mouth is dry. "What? You wanna-"

Kyle nods, and it's enough to cut Eric's words off completely.

"You're not scared, are you?"

That nauseating feeling in his stomach mellows into excitement, some suddenly discovered confidence. His movements are still erratic, and he punches Kyle in the nose. He stumbles backwards, and doesn't make a sound. When he lifts his head to look at Eric, blood is pouring out of his nostrils already, and Kyle appears pale and drained. He's queasy again, and he doesn't know if it's due to the blood or the fact that he may have actually broken Kyle's nose. It certainly whets his appetite for control, but maybe he's gorged enough already to make himself sick?

"Shit..." he whispers.

Kyle snarls and shoves him. They soon collide and all Eric can register is shirts being tugged, fists flying, and hands reaching out to grab each other. But their movements are clumsy and lethargic, not really landing at all and Eric doesn't know why he's doing this if not to get a hold of Kyle, grab him, and shake him, and look him in the eye but he keeps disappearing. Eric won't show mercy, not when Kyle's pants and huffs of effort are twinned with his own, tempting sprites that whisper in his ear, lead him to nowhere, and turn him on; not when Kyle's scent pierces the haze, some kind of coconut shampoo mingling with fucking Axe bodyspray. Eric can't believe how Kyle smells is something he's stored away in his brain, or how such a combination is now the most intoxicating scent in the world to him. But he spends every day with Kyle and he often stands real close to him, so maybe that's a less pathetic explanation as to why he can recall it so vividly.

Another tactile, unavoidable realisation? His dick is hard, and the situation is not helped when Kyle pushes him up against a wall. It's too familiar, Eric has been here before. Heart racing, body burning, shaking as he waited for Kyle to do something. His cheek is pressed against the brick, his breathing is louder, laboured and he cringes at how gross he sounds, how weak. Kyle has his arms pinned, his chest pressed against Eric's back. There's cool breath on the nape of his searing neck.

"Told you..." Kyle murmurs.

He rolls his hips, and Eric can feel his hard cock straining his jeans, rubbing right up against him. It messes his breathing up.

"Kyle..." he whispers as he continues to slowly roll his hips against his ass.

"You really want this, don't you?" Kyle teases, voice low and goading. "You want me to fuck you up, huh?" His teeth graze the ridge of his ear and tug at the lobe. Eric shivers. Kyle's voice is gritty and menacing, and Eric feels like he's going to cum in his pants when he says: "I'm gonna destroy you..."

Eric woke up with a sound that would be best described as a startled snore. His shirt was sticking to his sweaty back, his pounding heart and panting breaths filling up his dark bedroom. Sleepy disappointment soon sharpened into horrifying clarity when he realised what he was dreaming about, and when he clocked the familiar stickiness in his underwear. He switched his lamp on, looked under the covers and noticed an unmistakable damp patch at the front of his boxers.

"Shit..." he muttered, face burning and hands shaking as he reached over into his nightstand for some tissues.

As he cleaned himself up, he felt like he might vomit. This wasn't the first time he had had a wet dream, of course, and definitely not the first wet dream he had about a guy. But why the hell did it have to be Kyle? When did Kyle suddenly become so alluring, so... attractive? Eric could see that mental distance between the virtual and the real, himself and Kyle closing and he had no idea how to stop it from happening, but he would try. For now, he could only throw the covers over his head and bury his face in his pillow, like he was protecting himself from a nightmare coming true.