Eric Derekson x Touch-starved!Reader
Summary: Eric notices that something might be up with Y/N. He immediately becomes the embodiment of ‘they must be protected at all costs!!’. Meanwhile, the feeling is mutual uwu
Pairing: Eric Derekson x Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: FLUFF, a lot of talk about pee at the beginning (?), innocent intimacy, and two (2) pining idiots
I FINALLY DID IT!!!! I don’t write a lot but I love this boy with every fiber of my being and my touch-starved self wanted to project so here we are lol. Hope you enjoy it! If you do, feel free to like and/or reblog, but please do not repost without giving proper credit!! Thanks y’all and, as always, feedback is appreciated!
Eric was really regretting his life decisions. His big new years resolution was to stay hydrated, and he was doing really well! But, pair this with a day full of back-to-back meetings at Egos Inc. and Wilford’s excitement for a weekly dinner engagement with a certain not-ego, and you end up with Eric’s current predicament: anxiously pee-dancing in silence outside of said not-ego’s only bathroom.
“Oh, just hold it in until we get to Y/N’s! They have a bathroom at their apartment and it’s only, what, a ten minute drive?” Wilford had insisted as he gently shoved Eric out of the office building’s doors and into the parking lot. “I wanna get there before Dark eats all the hors d’oeuvres!”
Of course, the eccentric journalist had neglected to factor in rush hour traffic (easily turning ten minutes into twenty-five at the very least) as well as the fact that, even after traffic, they were running an hour-and-a-half early.
After no one answered their knocks at your door, Wilford used a spare key to let himself and Eric inside. Most of the lights were off and it almost seemed as if no one was home, if it weren’t for the music blasting from the back of the apartment. It wasn’t until then that Wilford thought to check his watch.
“Oh my,” his eyes widened before he facepalmed, chuckling at himself. “I suppose I was a little too excited to see our dear Y/N that I completely lost track of time–we’re much too early!”
Usually, Eric would have been mortified at such a revelation, but he was a little too focused on his bladder and how he felt it was going to rupture at any second.
“Th-that’s nice, but can you, well… where’s the, the bathroom please?
“Oh, right! In the hall, first door on the left!” Wilford took off his shoes and plopped himself down on the sofa, getting comfortable. Meanwhile, Eric rushed in the right direction, only to have his heart–and possibly his bladder–damaged beyond repair.
As he approached, he realized with horror that light seeped through the crack at the bottom of the door and that the music that was coming from behind the locked door was barely masking the sound of running water. You were taking a shower. Terrified to intrude, he hurriedly checked the other three doors in the hall hoping for some kind of saving grace. There was an office, a linen closet, and your bedroom. Fighting back tears, he returned to the door of the only bathroom in the apartment. Even if he could gather the courage to knock you wouldn’t be able to hear him over the noise, so he settled for silently praying to any and all higher powers that you wouldn’t be too long.
Twenty excruciating minutes later, the running water stopped and the music was turned down. Desperate to not wet his pants, he timidly knocked. The music stopped. Silence. He knocked again and spoke up.
“Hey Y/N? It’s Eric and I’m really sorry to intrude but–”
The door unlocked and swung open, revealing you in all of your towel-wearing glory. It was all Eric could do to keep himself from throwing himself past you and towards your toilet.
“Oh, hey Eric! You’re early! You really scared me for a second–”
Not able to hold it back anymore he nearly yelled, “I’MREALLYSORRYBUTIREALLYNEEDTOPEE!”
A little taken aback, you finally processed his words and the obvious urgency and quickly stepped out of the bathroom, “Oh, of course! I’m so sorry–”
He rushed past you, almost not noticing the wall of thick, humid heat as he entered the bathroom before slamming the door, unzipping his fly, and finally releasing the agonizing pressure. As he finished his business he took a deep breath of relief. That’s when he fully processed just how hot it was. He was already sweaty and his shirt was already starting to cling to his torso. It was suffocating. And a little concerning.
Eager to get out, he washed his hands and opened the door, instantly meeting the relief of cool A/C. Also you. In a towel. Oh yeah, that had happened. He was suddenly grateful for the flush from the heat that probably (hopefully) camouflaged his actual blush.
You were smiling and laughing a little. “Feel better?”
He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck in nervous embarrassment. “Yeah I, I feel a l-lot better, thank you, uh, s-sorry about that.”
You chuckled, patting him on the shoulder before moving past him to finish getting dressed, closing and locking the door behind you.
It was the next day and Eric couldn’t stop thinking about you. Well, to be fair, you had been on his mind a lot lately anyways, but he was still a little hung up on seeing you in a towel, to be honest. And also your incredibly hot showers. How did you not look like a lobster?
Eric looked up from his desk to see Google looking back at him, both parties visibly puzzled. “Huh?”
Google’s monotone voice replied, “I share no physical resemblance to a lobster, literally or metaphorically, nor do most people.”
Eric’s cheeks heated up, realizing he must have been talking to himself.
“Uh, sorry, I-I didn’t mean to say that out- out loud,” he explained. Google just shrugged before returning his focus to his computer. Before he could stop himself, Eric found himself catching the search engine’s attention–on purpose this time.
“Hey, uh Google? I have a question…”
“Yes?” Google asked, not looking up from his screen.
“Why do some people take really hot showers?”
The android sat up straight and turned to face Eric before reciting his findings: “An article from Lifehack.org says that ‘According to the researchers at Yale University, people who take a long-hot shower or bath may do so to subconciously ward off feelings of loneliness and isolation’.” Looking unimpressed, he returned to his work.
Eric felt a pang in his chest. He wondered if you actually felt that way. He tried to convince himself that you were probably fine. But part of him couldn’t help but worry. You were amazing! You didn’t deserve to feel lonely! And you weren’t going to. At least, not if he had anything to say about it.
For one brief minute, his anxiety had vanished, replaced with an almost foreign sense of determination. He picked up his phone and typed out a text, asking if you wanted to hang out after work. He still didn’t know if he would actually confront you about the loneliness thing, but he could at least be a good friend and spend time with you and hopefully show you how much he cares. Before he could psyche himself out, he pressed send. Then that brief minute was over. The impact of his anxiety made him want to puke.
Meanwhile, you were in your apartment. You had finished your work early and had just gotten home. Exhausted, you decided you would have a quiet night in, with maximum comfort. Feeling inspired (and not wanting to try to relax surrounded by clutter), you quickly went around your apartment, doing a quick clean-up: throwing away those leftover soda cans, washing a few dishes, tossing some dirty clothes in your clothes hamper, making up your bed, etc. After everything was fairly neat, you got ready for the most crucial aspect of relaxation. A nice, hot bath.
Getting some clean pajamas and underwear ready, you started the hot water running. You grabbed your phone, to pull up your favorite relaxing playlist, when you got a text from Eric:
Hey, do you want to hang out after I get off work? We could stay in or go out–whichever you prefer!
Shocked, but not in a bad way, you think about it for a moment. This seemed a little out of character. Eric was almost a hermit unless someone else took the initiative–or unless one of the other Egos dragged him along. You smiled to yourself at the thought.
You had been meeting Wilford and Dark for dinner every couple of weeks to maintain contact since, between your job and their lives at Ego Inc., life could get hectic. Though, a couple of months ago, they had talked to you and, after your consent, started bringing Eric along. They had explained his timidness and that they thought it would be good for him to get out of the house and hang out with someone whose face didn’t suspiciously resemble that of a certain famous YouTuber.
And so you were introduced to Eric Derekson. Wilford had teasingly warned you that Eric was almost as “heartbreakingly handsome” as he was, to which you just laughed. Then you met him. His shy, sweet nature had seized your heart strings and nearly yanked them from the muscle beating in your chest. Pair that with his, frankly, beautiful face (and butt–no, you weren’t proud you had checked the man out but, to be fair, it’s a really nice butt) and you were smitten. But you played it cool and, as the two of you got closer, he slowly seemed to grow more comfortable around you, which warmed your heart (and your face), but this proposition to hang out was still a milestone. Especially if he meant just the two of you.
The thought made your heart flutter, but you pushed it down. You couldn’t risk getting your hopes up. Besides, before anything else you were his friend, and friends hang out together. So you took a deep breath and typed out your response, deciding that you wouldn’t mind sharing your quiet night in with Eric.
That sounds nice! If you want to come over to my place we can order pizza and hang out. Maybe Netflix or something??
Eric nearly passed out from relief. You had almost immediately replied and one, you seemed happy (maybe even excited?) about the concept of hanging out and two, you wanted to stay in (he was terrified you’d be in an extraverted mood and try to take him out dancing or something–you had teasingly threatened to take him clubbing a while back–even though he knew you’d never do that to him, his anxiety still hated the possibility). He sighed, releasing the tension from his body before arranging the time he would come over. You had proposed six o’clock, knowing he got off work at five. He agreed.
As he set his phone down, his face heated up and a new type of anxiety filled his system with butterflies, the good kind though. He smiled to himself. He really was excited to spend time with you. You were so kind and gentle with him, but never condescending. Stunning and confident, but never arrogant. Not to mention he could just go on and on about your intelligence and sense of humor. From that first dinner, he knew he was wrapped around your little finger. Although, thankfully, he’s managed to not make too much of a lovesick fool out of himself. So far.
You were lounging on the couch look at your go-to pizza place’s menu when someone knocked on your door. Getting up, you quickly unlocked the door to reveal Eric, looking as handsome and nervous as ever. Smiling and greeting him, you opened your arms for a hug that he immediately accepted. He had never been used to hugs before he met you, but he always enjoyed yours–you were a really good hugger.
You pulled away and closed the door, leading Eric to the couch to sit and decide on dinner.
“Ok, so,” you turned to him, “I have a coupon for two large pizzas, a couple of two liters and one of those dessert pizzas, what do you think?”
Eric grinned. “That sounds amazing.”
You called the restaurant, ordering the feast. Then, while waiting for your food to be delivered, you and Eric talked. He caught you up on the Jims’ latest antics, you ranted about the drama at your workplace, and by the time the pizza got there, the two of you were giggling like idiots over who-knows-what. As you set out the food on your coffee table and reaching for the tv remote, Eric spoke up.
“You know, it’s really nice hanging out with you. We never have time to talk like this.”
Smiling at the sentiment, you replied, “Ditto,” making you both giggle. “For real though,” you said, “I’m enjoying myself too. You’re pretty cool, Derekson.”
His cheeks started to tingle, but he fought off the blush. He wanted to talk to you, seriously, before you could turn on the tv.
“Yeah?” You replied distractingly. Suddenly you weren’t quite sure where you had left the remote and were scanning the coffee table and food packaging.
“Can I- can I talk t-to you for a, a second?”
You immediately stopped scanning upon hearing his stutter. He rarely stuttered around you anymore so when he did, you took it seriously. You nonchalantly leaned back into the couch, sitting and getting comfortable, giving him your full attention.
“Yeah,” your voice was a little softer. “What’s up?
His brow was furrowed and he couldn’t quite look at your face. “Do you, uh, remember th-that time I nearly wet my-myself?”
You lips quirked, concealing the smile that wanted to spread across your face at the mental image. You felt kind of bad, but it was really cute. Not to mention his reaction to seeing you half-dressed…
Your cheeks heated up, but you played it cool. “Yeah, what about it?”
He sighed. He didn’t seem nervous, which was odd, but more frustrated or confused. “You take really, really hot showers.”
Squinting your eyes, you gave him a puzzled look, trying to conceal your smile. Realizing that sounded wrong, his anxious countenance returned with some stuttered apologies.
“I-I meant that you, uh, you– when I went in th-the bathroom, it was really hot. Like, like suffocating!”
“Ah, okay,” you were silent for a moment, not any less confused than before. “So what are you getting at?”
Eric’s blush darkened. “I just remember um… I- I uh…” he noticeably refuse to look in your direction now, trying to find his words. You patiently waited–you could tell he was getting frustrated by himself. After a moment, he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
“Apparently some people t-take really long, really hot showers to cope with, with loneliness and I guess I- I just wanted to make sure that you were, that you’re okay.”
You had no words. He reluctantly opened his eyes to look at you, silently hoping with everything fiber of his being that, just this once, he didn’t screw up. You looked at coffee table with an expression just a little too tense to describe as neutral. Eric was about to apologize and try to salvage the night ahead when you relaxed your face, closing your eyes and sighing deeply.
When you opened your eyes you turned to face him again. He hadn’t noticed until that moment just how tired you looked. Sure, you had the faint beginnings of bags under your eyes, but what shook him to the core was your eyes. As you let your walls down, your eyes seemed to age a couple of decades within a few moments. Where there was usually a sparkle had grown just a little too dull.
“To be honest with you? I’ve been struggling a bit lately.”
Eric could practically feel his heart start to fracture in his chest.
You continued, “Like, it’s nothing major, but I’m just tired. Things are starting to weigh me down more, if that makes sense…?” You shifted, not entirely comfortable with admitting to hardship, but Eric stared at you intently, nodding slightly for you to continue. Having anyone’s (but especially his) entire attention on you like this felt so intimidating and… intimate. You weren’t used to it by a long-shot.
“Really, I’m okay I just… I guess I’m a little lonely. I didn’t realize what I was doing, with the hot water, I mean, until you said it, but yeah…” your voice faded off and your embarrassment started to color your cheeks. “Part of it is that, I have really physically affectionate tendencies but I’m also really touch-starved.”
“Well, for one, I haven’t had a significant other in a long, long time and I’ve never really been in a touchy-feely group of friends before so, even though I love it and want it so bad–”
“You’re not used to it,” he finished your sentence. “So… you get embarrassed.”
Eric nodded and muttered, almost to himself, “I get that.”
Silence fell for a moment before you spoke up.
He looked at you, confused. “For what?”
“For checking in on me,” You replied, grinning in spite of yourself. “I mean there’s not really much to be done, but I appreciate it a lot.” You grabbed a plate and loaded it with some pizza before trying to find the remote again.
Eric watched you fondly, with a quiet “You’re welcome,” before an idea came to his head.
“We, uh, we could b-be cuddle b-buddies.”
You almost didn’t hear him and it took a moment to process what he was saying. When you did though, you were pretty sure a tomato would be jealous of your face’s shade of red. When you turned to face Eric, though, he was about the same so that made you feel a little better. He smiled at you nervously, awaiting your response.
“Ok,” was all you could get out.
He was a little shocked. But definitely relieved. “Really?!” He mentally scolded himself for sounding too excited, but he couldn’t help it–he was!
“Uh, y-yeah that sounds really good!”
And so you finally found the remote while Eric fixed his plate and after a quick, stutter-y deliberation, you turned on a movie. You paused before looking at Eric, who was already looking at you. You both smiled and giggled a bit, instantly relaxing the tense atmosphere a little bit.
Turning your attention to the movie, you slowly adjusted so that you were sitting up, but leaning against Eric. He eased his arm onto the back of the couch behind you, allowing for a closer proximity. Red as lobsters and so full of butterflies you almost couldn’t eat, the two of you watched the movie.
As the movie progressed, you both started to relax and feel more comfortable. Even though you were still having issues with normal breathing, it was so so so nice. When you finished eating, you placed your dishes on the table and readjusted.
He ended up laying down with you laying on top of him, with you resting your head on his chest, near the crook of his neck while he rested one hand on your back and caressed your arm with the other. You were so warm and soft in his arms, like a weighted blanket. And he adored your occasional little sighs by his ear that would make his breath hitch, just a little. And his shoulder was such a wonderful headrest while his heartbeat was so soothing to hear underneath you. But every time he adjusted to wrap his arms around you a little more, your heart skipped a beat. It was the most calm, relaxed, and serene exhilaration you had ever experienced.
After the movie ended, you quickly started another. This time, when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he ended up spooning you. He had grown comfortable with the new closeness surprisingly quickly and almost dragged you onto the couch, excited to hold you close. This gesture alone made you nearly explode from happiness.
He wrapped one arm around your waist and rested the other under your head. He ended up absentmindedly rubbing your stomach while nuzzling his face into the back of your neck. After you adjusted and were finally breathing somewhat normally again, you relaxed into the curve of his body and, before long, fell asleep. Meanwhile, Eric felt like he could combust with joy. He had yet to tell you exactly how he felt about you, but this new arrangement was definitely a huge step forward.
When he was sure you were asleep, he tentatively placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck before getting comfortable and falling asleep.
