It was like marking an addiction on the calender. Counting days to the next hit, literal and figurative, making do while time dragged on.

Nura had never showed up with a guy in his arm before. The days and nights they had spent together over the summer had convinced Magpie that yes, Nura liked hard things in his mouth - but up until the game night it had felt somewhat exclusive.

A word specifically for the sculpted, well-dressed man that reeked of riches. Another word, specifically for Magpie.

If Magpie would have chosen a word for himself, he would have settled on "hypocrite".

He had absolutely no business to be jealous over Nura, and he would not have categorized his emotion as such. It was close enough he chastised himself for it, but not exactly that.

Loathing. From the very first glance he had loathed "Yashar" and everything he stood for. They had not shaken hands, but a single glance at them had told Magpie Yashar's hands were soft. Unused, moisturized, manicured.

What was a drow next to perfection?

Something like what came after. Drinks with Sascha and Molly, picking a fight with Quir's brother, cigarette smoke and cheap booze, walking home because the bus was too expensive.

And this, next week, next month, these meetings that had gotten more frequent again - against his better judgement.

A bodily need for sweat and teeth.

Val was in the shower, and Magpie was taking the opportunity to smoke Val's cigarettes instead of his own.

Everything in the apartment was expensive. The flat-screen TV, the bed, the mattress, the food. Magpie slept better here than in his own bed, the one that barely held together, and would rather die than admit to the fact.

In these in-between moments of Val disappearing from the view, Magpie could briefly pretend to be an expensive thing, too.

The sound of running water stopped, and he quickly inhaled the last lungful of smoke before crushing the rest against the stained silver ashtray. Ash scattered on the satin sheets and on the floor. He was sure Val had a cleaner for those kinds of small grievances, but the gesture gave him a modicum of glee anyway.

He could not imagine Val cleaning. Or cooking.

In the same moment as the door to the bathroom opened, a wet towel was tossed at him. Magpie groaned obligingly and dropped it to the floor, on the ashes.

"Hungry?" Val moved to kitchen to examine the contents of his fridge. Mostly takeaway foods or instant meals, but the expensive kind that consisted mostly of food instead of salt and cheese.

"Uhuh. What you ordering?" It was a small concession to let Val pay for his food. Small, because food had gotten more expensive everywhere, and a part of Magpie thought he deserved to be fed after all the shit Val put him through.

A concession, because whenever Val paid for his food, Magpie felt more and more like his dog.

"Hm. Pizza." Val flicked over the delivery app on his phone. Magpie leaned back and watched the small muscles on the tattooed arms move with the typing and pressing on the screen, then pulled out his own phone. Blue light tired his eyes but made him feel more awake.

This was fine, he told himself when Val climbed to bed and moved the phones aside to kiss Magpie against the pillows. It was not what he had with Nura over the summer, but most importantly it was not what he had with Orrina.

Val was not jealous, even when Magpie could tell he did get off on possessiveness. Both of them, really.

But this was fine. It was just a game.

"Twenty minutes,"Val murmured against his bruised neck. "Plenty of time.

Val and Yashar were both well-off, but in different ways. The former boasted about it at every turn, enjoyed knowing he had something others did not. On particularly shitty days Val would have Magpie pick up the money from the floor.

A small power move, but it left a permanent mark deeper than the bruises.

It was difficult to imagine Yashar doing that.

Or perhaps his and Nura's taste in men was more similar than -- no. Magpie loathed Yashar, but wanted to do so for existing, real reasons. Not imagined ones.

Yashar's economic status was more subtle. Val's status was acquired, Yashar's something he had probably been born and raised into. An unblemished perfection Magpie wanted so badly to sink his claws into, to dig out flaws, any proof of imperfection.

Like the acne scars.

Val's imperfections did not need to be dug out; he volunteered them on each meeting. In that way he grinned when Magpie let out a sound, half pleasure, half pain. In that way he turned the act of paying Magpie into a performance. In the way Val acted like the whole world owed him.

But he was a white, tall human man in a good career trajectory - so perhaps the world did owe him.

When he wrapped his arms around Val's shoulders and moaned, a small voice in his head dared to whisper you do not want this.

Yes, he did.

He wanted exactly this, these hands on his chest, his throat, his hair. The rhythmic pace and his own gasping breath, the sensations of his body that stripped away every other thought.

It was a wrong thought. The correct one was you do not want him.

The thought was true - and did not matter. There were many other things in life he also did not want, included but not limited to paying rent, dealing with slurs and working three jobs. He made do with those other things, and Val paid so well Magpie had dared to quit the fast food cashier job - the one he had detested the most.

So if this ached, it was not like stopping it would have stopped the aching. Only changed the source of the pain.

His limbs were pleasantly heavy and body worn when they were done. He would have to wear a scarf for a few days.

This was not his home nor did he belong, but here at least he was not alone.

At home there was an empty space in his bed. Even when the bed was far too small for two people, Nura had squeezed into that empty space. Even when this, here, now, was all Magpie was, or would ever amount to.

The doorbell rang, and Val headed over to open. Magpie pushed his thoughts under the surface, where they belonged.

This was a game, and as long as Val did not actually know him, he was safe.

Nura had seen him and his home. Sides of him nobody ever saw. That was why it had hurt.

That was the only reason why it hurt.