Chapter Text
After five years of being the perfect hero, there aren’t many things under the “con” category of Nice’s internal pro/con list of whether or not he should kill himself. Right now, the list pretty much looks like this:
Pros:
No more Treeman
No more expectations
No more rooming with Moon
No more dealing with Miss J
No more TV appearances
No more broken ribs
No more of the sickening discomfort that crawled under his skin the moment something was out of place
No more paralyzing obsession with making sure he and the world around him were perfect
No more pretending to be something he wasn't
Cons:
It would hurt Wreck
It would hurt his fans
It might hurt Moon? (Jury still out on that one)
Missing OnlyFans creator, TheNicestThing’s newest video
Of items to put on the side of the list in support of not killing himself, Nice was aware that porn was probably not the most socially acceptable reason. Whatever; it wasn’t like he was going to actually ever show anyone the list, so who cared? It was honest and currently one of the heaviest hitters on the side of cons, so he was keeping it. Other than hurting Wreck, it was the only thing that felt weighty enough to keep the scales from tipping the other way.
If it kept him on this side of the ledge, then it stayed on the list, no matter how silly or sexually deviant it seemed.
And to address the elephant in the room, yes , it was a Nice-themed OnlyFans account in which the creator cosplayed as Nice or wore Nice-themed outfits while putting on an extremely not-safe-for-work show.
Now, was it conceited for Nice to be obsessed with an OnlyFans star who pretended to be him? Probably. He couldn’t help it, though. Despite the title of the Perfect Hero, Nice was, in the end, just a man—one with an extremely rigidly managed life and unfiltered access to the internet. Things were bound to get weird after a while.
Besides, it wasn’t like the boy was actually him, nor did Nice pretend he was. Sure, most people watching the creator's content probably imagined Nice in the boy's place, but it was different for the hero. For one, Nice knew the types of faces he made while feeling good (he'd been curious once and had his answers after ten minutes in the bathroom with some tissues and a hand mirror), and he looked nothing like the boy. Nice's brows didn't draw together cutely when he first touched himself, he didn't bite his lips raw when he was getting close, his voice didn't go all high and breathy as he came. The Perfect Hero would never lose his composure in the throws of pleasure like this boy—could never entice in the messy, human way that TheNicestThing did.
The boy looked similar to Nice, sure, but at least when it came to sex, the two couldn't be more different.
So no, Nice would argue that it wasn't narcissistic to be interested in the boy dressed as him. Watching someone in his costume moaning just… it almost felt like Nice had a connection to someone. Like something tethering Nice to the mortal world.
For Nice, it didn’t feel like he was watching someone pretending to be him, but rather, it was almost like coming home to find his partner playing dress up in his suit. Playing dress up with the intention of Nice ripping it off of them.
Nice knew about parasocial relationships—as the number fifteen hero, he couldn't escape it—and understood that he didn’t actually know this cosplayer. That didn’t change the fact that watching that boy swathed in Nice’s signature white and gold made him feel a strange sort of ownership. As if he was marking himself for Nice alone.
And well... how was Nice supposed to resist a present so perfectly gift-wrapped for him? And such a pretty present, too.
And then there was the boy's signature ending to each video: the blissed-out expression on the boy’s face, the look into the camera, and the words, “Remember, you can do it. Just believe in yourself.”
It was a quote from one of Nice’s earliest campaigns before they decided to pivot toward the perfect image of Nice above everyone else—back when Nice was supposed to be a little more human. Though simple, it was one Nice liked and was sad to see replaced. Seeing that boy look so earnest, telling Nice that he could do it… sometimes, it was all that got Nice through the day.
So, really, it wasn’t so weird to have spent an afternoon splicing together a compilation of every time the boy said the line so he could listen to it when stressed, right? There were videos of Nice online with the same type of thing looped; it was basically the same thing, just with a few more breathy moans. If anything, it added to the experience.
“You’re a fucking creep,” Moon told him. “Turn that off.”
“How is this any different from those ‘The Hero Nice encourages you for an hour straight’ videos?” Nice asked, burring his phone in a pocket before she could snatch it away. "It's not like I'm playing the videos. Besides, it's only from parts after he came."
“It’s still porn. ” Moon countered. “Most people don’t play porn audio on surround sound speakers when other people are around. You know, non-psychos.”
“You’re always around, though. You live here.”
“Then use headphones!” Moon stormed over to a drawer and pulled out a pair before hurling them at his face. It was a surprisingly accurate throw, given how flimsy the cord was.
“It’s not like I’m masturbating to it,” Nice reasoned.
“It would be so much less weird if you were.” Moon groaned, flopping down on the couch. "Why couldn't your stupid perfectionism make you less of a creepy pervert instead of just a neat freak? I swear, you're the worst roommate ever."
Nice just shrugged.
"It's my turn to cook. Do you still want steak for dinner?" He asked, putting on the headphones and connecting them to his phone.
"Oh, hell yeah." Moon rolled over, smiling for what was probably the first time all day. Nice almost laughed. She was so ill-tempered but always so easily won over with food.
Nice discovered TheNicestThing mostly by accident. If anything, it was Wreck’s fault.
It started with a casual comment from his friend about how, with the increase in their popularity recently, he’d been noticing cosplayers dressing up as the both of them. There were still more of Nice, of course—there always were more of heroes than villains—but there had recently been an increase of Wreck as well.
Nice had looked through the photos Wreck sent him on Twitter, which led him to scroll through the tag for Wreck cosplayers. It was heartwarming to see his friend appreciated. Even cast as Nice's nemesis, Treeman did a good job at keeping Wreck's image fairly clean—a misguided villain that the hero Nice did his best to set on the righteous path—and had a decent amount of fans himself.
Nice hadn't even been looking at the tag for his own cosplayers when a post came up of someone dressed as Nice.
Though the suit was a little cheaply made, and the boy was obviously wearing a wig, the resemblance was uncanny, and Nice had been intrigued enough to click on the post.
@NICENICENICENICE
I need TheNicestThing to do a collab with a #wreckcosplay like YESTERDAY. LOOK HOW GOOD MY BABY LOOKS!!! I’M MELTINGGGGG idc what kind of collab. im begging for any food PLEASE
A quick glance at the comments under the post confirmed Nice’s suspicion that the poster was not the cosplayer himself.
@theworldisonfire
Hey you should prob take this down. i love this pic too but TheNicestThing doesn’t like it when people involve him in any official tags
@NICENICENICENICE
No thanks!
@theworldisonfire
No thanks? I’m being serious. if TheNicestThing were to see this, he’d probably be upset. it's rude to involve the actual people with this sort of thing
@NICENICENICENICE
its not like i tagged any accounts so who cares? you need to touch grass
@theworldisonfire
wtf i was trying to be polite, you don't have to be a dick. just take it down, you dont want to get him in trouble do you?
@NICENICENICENICE
kindly fuck off, kay? :)
From there, the thread devolved into a back-and-forth that seemed productive only in building the animosity between the two people involved, which Nice quickly grew bored of.
The cosplayer, though, he was curious about.
From what Nice knew, his team had never discouraged cosplayers, so he wasn’t sure why using official tags was a bad thing. If anything, the PR team loved it when fans did stuff like that—free marketing and all that.
Luckily, TheNicestThing did seem to belong to a user, and Nice’s confusion was quickly cleared up.
TheNicestThing
@TheNicestThing
he/him || 21 || OF Nice themed content creator! Come join the fun here! || Minors DNI
15 Following 87.3K Followers
Posted only a few hours ago was the photo that Nice had seen, but this time, it was only the first in a set of two photos. The second was of the cosplayer again, but instead of Nice’s full body suit, the man wore… well, the only way Nice could describe it was as a “Nice” themed lingerie set, and even then, that seemed slightly inaccurate. Somewhere between cosplay and something that barely constituted clothing wrapped around—white cloth draped just right to obscure the most explicit parts of the boy, ribbons of gold tied in places that looked like a single tug could unravel them. Honestly, it looked like even the lightest breeze would strip the boy bare.
@TheNicestThing
Newest outfit arrived! What do you think? Worthy of the Perfect Hero?
“Oh,” Nice breathed. “That’s… oh .”
As if in a trance, Nice found himself clicking on the link in the profile and was immediately met with a paywall. And well, that wouldn’t do, would it?
Creating an account was simple, and it only took a moment before Nice was opening up the page for top-tier subscribers. Which, sure, was maybe a little impulsive, but what else was Nice going to spend his money on? If anything, it was him giving back to his community—supporting those who have supported him.
And really, how was he supposed to contain his curiosity?
From there, it was only too easy to navigate to the videos. Which was the most logical thing to do. After all, he paid for them; it would just be a waste not to watch them. It would be an insult to the hard work this boy put into making them, discrediting an artist at work!
Or something.
Whatever.
The point was that, approximately five minutes after discovering that TheNicestThing existed, Nice’s phone screen was filled with the boy’s image as he spun to show off the outfit from the photo Nice had seen on Twitter. As it turned out, the not-quite-clothing outfit was exactly as substantial as Nice thought it would be. No more than ten seconds into the video, a strap was already slipping off of the boy’s shoulder.
“Oops!” The boy on the screen laughed as he caught the cloth before it could pull the rest of the garment off with it. “I swear, it’s like this thing doesn’t want to stay on.”
The boy’s nose scrunched up a little as he twisted, trying to tuck the cloth back into place, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He continued speaking as he did, his voice tinted with soft amusement, an almost bashful quality to his delivery.
"I was so excited when I saw this, I thought it would be perfect for Nice, but it's kind of driving me crazy. I like puzzles, but not when they come in the form of clothes! Aaaand there! It's stuck in place, at least for now." The boy turned back to the camera and grinned. "Nice, right?"
Oh.
“I think I’m in love.”
Somehow, three months went by like that, Nice obsessing over each video the boy put up. Of all the ways the need to be perfect had infected Nice’s life, a helping hand when it came to impulse control didn’t seem to be one of them. Any moment Nice wasn't obligated to pay attention to something else (and even sometimes when he was), his mind was on the streamer.
TheNicestThing posted a new full-length video once a week at 8 pm every Friday—a consistency and punctuality that Nice appreciated, even if the time wasn't ideal. Additionally, five to six photos were posted weekly, along with weekly alternating chat and explicit livestreams.
The evening uploads and stream times were likely suitable for fans who worked in an office or otherwise worked typical daytime hours. Unfortunately for Nice, that was also prime time for interviews, TV appearances, as well as for villains to attack. Even ad recordings went into evening hours—though some of that was also probably Nice's fault. The studios were usually fine to go with his first take; Nice was the one who wasn't happy until something was perfect.
This meant that, despite having twelve different opportunities to interact with the creator, Nice was rarely available to capitalize on them. So far, Nice had only been able to attend a single live stream and even that one he was pulled away from after five minutes when some idiot decided that a local park would look a lot better set on fire. TheNicestThing hadn't even taken off his shirt yet.
Instead, Nice had to be content with watching recordings when he got home, letting the streamer's voice lull him to sleep.
Nice's sudden obsession with his phone didn't go unnoticed by those around him. It was only a matter of time before Moon discovered the OnlyFans' page, though that was more the result of her own laziness and less out of curiosity. If she didn't want to see what was on Nice's personal devices, then she shouldn't have crossed the room to get her own laptop instead of using Nice's to order food delivery.
Miss J also noticed the change, but other than a brief, "If you check your phone in the middle of this press conference, so help me, we'll need a replacement for you because I will take you out myself," wasn't bothered enough to ask what he was actually doing.
Three months after finding the OnlyFans creator, Miss J handed him back his phone after an interview, and Nice found a notification waiting for him.
Nice swept his eyes over the set, checking to see if anyone was paying him any mind. Luckily, a quick glance around told him that everyone was absorbed in their own business, resetting everything for the next interview.
Going to a wall to wait for Miss J to take him and Moon home, Nice angled his phone away from the room before checking the notification.
It wasn't unusual for TheNicestThing to post pictures at unscheduled times, so aside from the usual anticipation of seeing new photos of his favorite person, he wasn't expecting too much when he unlocked his phone. He certainly wasn't expecting a direct message sitting in his inbox.
TheNicestThing:
Hi there!
I just wanted to reach out and say that I’m finally starting the BFE that I promised months ago! Since you’re already a top tier subscriber, you’re automatically opted in.
Whenever you have time, let's chat about how I can make it the best for you?
Also, is there anything you’d like me to call you?
Nice stared at the message, completely confused. Not unhappy to be directly messaged by the boy he'd been obsessed with for months, just confused.
Curious, Nice took the opportunity to check the subscriber tier list and actually read what he paid for. Sure enough, there was something in the description he didn't remember, though it didn't clear much up. Among the list of things he was familiar with—photos, videos, live streams, general posts, and occasional audio files—there was an acronym he had no context for. At the bottom of the list said, "BFE coming in December!"
ToBeYourHero:
I only subscribed recently and didn’t look at the tier bonuses before doing so. What is a BFE?
I’m new to the platform.
TheNicestThing:
It’s short for boyfriend experience!
ToBeYourHero:
What is that?
TheNicestThing:
Oh shoot, I just realized I forgot to update the tier list
I’ll do that now haha
Basically , it’s for people who want to chat with me. Like chatting with a your boyfriend that fits in your pocket!
It has its own tiers that you can look at here
Nice scrolled through the document, outlining the different “perks” that came with the new service. There were various versions associated with the different tiers, with different allocated amount of time a day, number of personal photos sent a week.
Just as when Nice first discovered the cosplayer's page months ago, he found himself consumed by curiosity. Although he occasionally posted "updates" on his life, they were always brief and contained little real information. He was binge-watching a show that was canceled last year and fearing getting to the cliffhanger it left on; he tried that new pickle-flavored chip and found it surprisingly good; the crow that made its nest on his windowsill started leaving him coins, and he was worried about it robbing people. Those little glimpses into TheNicestThing painted such an endearing picture that Nice was almost more eager for them than he was the photos (almost).
Now here he was, offering Nice live access to his brain—or at least his inbox.
Well, Nice was already subscribed, so why not go all in? Switching support tiers was easy enough.
ToBeYourHero:
I updated my subscription; thank you for letting me know.
I'd love to talk to you.
TheNicestThing:
Oh great!
Do you have any requests?
ToBeYourHero:
Like photos?
TheNicestThing:
Photos or ways of chatting! Like what do you want to get out of it. I can take BFE literal and treat you like we're dating or as a FWB or something else
Also when is good for you? I can work around your timetable. Don’t want to distract you from your work!
ToBeYourHero:
My hours are inconsistent, so you can message me at your convenience.
Nice paused, thinking about it. What did he want to get out of it?
ToBeYourHero:
I'd like to talk to you like a person.
You don't need to put on an act.
TheNicestThing:
I can do that
I look forward to getting to know you!
Falling into conversation with the streamer turned out to be easy. The boy was friendly and good at keeping a topic rolling. Which might have been because it was literally his job to do so, but Nice wanted to believe it was because they just had so much in common.
After just a week, it was already becoming Nice's favorite hobby.
TheNicestThing:
I'm streaming tonight. Are you coming?
ToBeYourHero:
Unfortunately, I'm working late tonight.
I hate my work hours; I never get to watch your live shows.
TheNicestThing:
I’m sorry! I figured 8 was a good time, but I should probably stagger the times so people with different schedules can see them
ToBeYourHero:
No use doing it around mine. I’m always working.
TheNicestThing:
Shit are you at work now? I can stop bothering you
ToBeYourHero:
I'm eating lunch.
And you're never a bother.
TheNicestThing:
Awwww <3
What's for lunch?
ToBeYourHero:
Well, I'm waiting for lunch. My roommate is cooking right now.
TheNicestThing:
You have a roommate? Are you two close?
ToBeYourHero:
Not really. We wouldn’t even spend time together if it weren’t for work.
TheNicestThing:
You live together because of work?
ToBeYourHero:
It’s a long story.
Well, not that long, just one I can’t get into.
TheNicestThing:
That’s fine! So what is for lunch? Anything yummy?
ToBeYourHero:
I’m not sure.
TheNicestThing:
You don't know what they're making?
ToBeYourHero:
I can't watch her cook, and I forgot to ask before she started.
TheNicestThing:
Band from the kitchen? Are you the type to light fire on water?
Water on fire lol
Though both would be impressive. Idk how'd you do the first one
ToBeYourHero:
I'm the opposite, actually.
It's that she's a very messy cook, and I find watching it intolerable. I usually end up locking myself in the bathroom while she cooks.
TheNicestThing:
lol
Are you in there now?
ToBeYourHero:
Yes.
I'm listening to music and doing my best to ignore the uneven chopping sounds from outside.
TheNicestThing:
Why not go in your bedroom?
ToBeYourHero:
The apartment's layout is not ideal for privacy. The bathroom is the best place.
TheNicestThing:
You wearing headphones? Or listening on loudspeaker?
ToBeYourHero:
I'm wearing headphones. She gets annoyed when I play audio out loud .
TheNicestThing:
In which case
What me to entertain you a little while you wait?
ToBeYourHero:
Is that not what you are doing now?
TheNicestThing:
I think we can do a little better than just a few texts ;)
Hold on
A few minutes passed and then Nice's phone buzzed again. It was a direct message, but this time, it contained a video. No sooner had it finished loading was Nice playing it.
Replacing the music in Nice's headphones was suddenly muffled shuffling—the only component of the black video for a moment before a soft laugh, and the camera shifted, revealing a familiar sight. A mostly blank, white wall and a bedspread patterned with white and gold came into sight, a little blurrier than usual due to the selfie camera. There wasn't much beyond that, aside from a few pillows, the corner of a desk peeking into view on the edge, and a circular "Nice" plushie that Treeman made a few years ago. By now, Nice was long familiar with the sight of the boy's bedroom, though the handheld angle was different from the usual setup he used for his official videos. In fact, Nice could see a tripod in the corner.
Not that the background was at the forefront of Nice's attention. Rather, that was the subject of the video himself. In all of his prerecorded videos, TheNicestThing always wore his white "Nice" wig. In these more casual ones, though, he often just wore a hoodie, with the hood obscuring his forehead all the way to his eyes, leaving only the ends of his dark brown hair to peek into view by his ears.
And from what Nice could see, the oversized hoodie seemed to be the only thing the boy was wearing.
"Hey," TheNicestThing said, giving a small wave to the camera with the hand that wasn't holding it. As he did, his jacket pulled up a little at the bottom, sliding up one bare thigh, still yet to reveal any other piece of clothing.
Before the video could continue, it was bumped up by another message.
TheNicestThing:
An acceptable distraction?
ToBeYourHero:
I can't imagine a more perfect one.
Nice scrolled back up to the video and pressed play once again. The familiar tones of TheNicestThing’s voice floated into his ears, a little less clear than usual because of the phone mic.
“Since you’re hiding in the bathroom anyway, I thought maybe you could take advantage of the tissues.” TheNicestThing played with the bottom hem of his sweater, letting it ride up his thighs, still not quite lifting it. “If you want, that is.”
And dear god did Nice want. TheNicestThing didn’t often do “teasing” videos, and the novelty of them had Nice physically leaning forward, eyes glued to the screen. The boy hadn’t even done anything yet, and Nice could already feel himself uncomfortably hard in his pants.
The camera shook for a moment as the boy set his phone down on what seemed to be a nightstand. TheNicestThing turned and crawled up the bed, giving Nice his first real view of the video. And what a view it was.
While the streamer wasn’t completely naked under the sweater like Nice initially assumed, he wasn’t exactly wearing much. Tight white briefs hugged his ass, which took up the entire screen for a moment. The flex of his ass as he moved mesmerized Nice, captivating him in a way nothing else could.
It only took a moment for TheNicestThing to climb to the top of the bed. He took a second to fix the pillows before turning around and leaning against them, legs falling open at the knees.
“I probably should have changed,” TheNicestThing laughed, sounding genuinely a little embarrassed. “It’s not the sexiest underwear. I just wanted to be able to send it to you in time; I hope you don’t mind.”
Nice didn’t mind in the slightest. If anything, it was more exciting seeing him like this; it felt more authentic than the performance of the videos TheNicestThing posted for everyone. Those, he was always dressed up, appearance fixed to look as appetizing as possible.
This, though—with the boy in comfortable clothes and no makeup or wig—this felt like Nice was seeing the real boy behind the camera, not the mask he wore.
That, more than anything, turned Nice on.
With one hand, Nice navigated his belt buckle—a weird, complex thing that was hard enough to do with two hands. Right now, though, he wasn’t putting down his phone for the life of him. After a moment of fumbling, Nice finally released himself from the tight confines of his costume.
On-screen, the boy pressed the heel of his palm against an obvious erection. The other, he slipped into his briefs through one leg hole. The underwear was tight enough that Nice could see the boy’s hand through the fabric, fingers circling right where his hole was.
“Oh!” the boy gasped. “Fuck. I just finished recording a video a little while ago, and I thought I’d be loose enough, but I guess I was wrong. Still so wet, though.”
Nice squeezed his cock, trying to alleviate some of the growing need that pooled in his gut. He’d get to enjoy the other video later as well, but this one right here was for him alone.
Finally, the boy pushed off his underwear, kicking it aside and parting his legs. He must not have been kidding about filming earlier because his hole looked puffy and red, as if he’d been playing with it for hours. His cock, too, was flushed and straining.
One hand went to his cock, playing with the head with his thumb, and the other went lower. This time, when he fingered himself, Nice could see everything—the way slim fingers disappeared into that hole, the way they came out glistening with lube.
He must have hit a good spot because suddenly the boy’s body jerked, his hoody slipping down off of his stomach and causing it to accidentally completely cover the show.
“Oops.” Letting go of his cock, the boy pulled up the bottom hem of his sweater. Instead of just putting it back where it was a second ago, though, he brought it higher, tucking a bit of the fabric between his teeth. “Sorry about that.” The words came out a little muffled but intelligible.
TheNicestThing went back to his work, slowly stretching himself out with one hand while stroking himself with the other.
Nice matched the boy’s pace with his own hand, captivated by the gentle in and out of the boy's fingers. Soon, one became two became three, and the swollen rim stretched around the boy’s pretty fingers. Nice had seen far bigger things fucked into the boy’s hole—he had a whole arsenal of toys to play with in his videos—but the sight still sent shivers down his spine.
Before long, the boy seemed to lose himself in the pleasure, focusing less on the show and more on finding his own release. It just made Nice’s dick throb, the idea that TheNicestThing wasn’t just doing this for Nice, but actually enjoying himself. Enjoying himself with Nice.
Soon, his movements started to turn desperate and arrhythmic, legs twitching as he got closer. Nice could feel his own orgasm building as he watched the boy grow tenser and tenser, soft breathing growing into needy moans until finally, the streamer came. Ribbons of white painted the boy’s bare chest as Nice followed right behind, cumming so hard that for a moment, all he could see was white.
When he finally came back to himself, the boy was already sitting up, running a finger across his messy chest.
“I think this is more than I came in the video I recorded. I just washed this hoodie, too.” He laughed, and the sound was so genuine that Nice felt his heart twist. “Okay, okay. I’ll let you go have lunch now.”
The video cut off on a frame of the boy leaning in close, the curl of his smile taking up the entire screen.
“Nice!” came a shout through the bathroom door, loud enough to make him physically jump. “Food’s ready!”
Nice glanced down at his phone, torn between rewatching the video and eating. If he was being honest, one was much more appealing than the other.
TheNicestThing:
I know I might look tasty, but you should go eat when food is ready
ToBeYourHero:
How did you know I was thinking about watching it again?
TheNicestThing:
Because I know you
Nice almost wished that was true.
“Is that—” Wreck interrupted himself, pausing to squint at something on the coffee table. “Hey, Nice.”
“Yeah?” Nice called from across Wreck's apartment.
“Why do you have a message from someone named TheNicestThing, asking if you got home safe today?”
“Oh, do I?” Nice asked, continuing to rummage around in Wreck’s kitchen drawers. For some reason, finding the bottle opener always turned into a hunt when it came to Wreck’s apartment, despite its frequent use whenever Nice was over. Honestly, just being in Wreck’s apartment could be a struggle at times. “Can you hand it to me?”
“Yeah. For some reason, it looks like it’s from OnlyFans ?” Wreck questioned, bringing over the phone.
“That’s because it is,” Nice replied distractedly, taking the phone from his friend and opening the message.
TheNicestThing:
I hope you got home safe and aren’t working overtime again!
ToBeYourHero:
I'm off of work but not at home. I decided to blow off steam and am hanging out with a friend, actually.
TheNicestThing:
I’m so glad you’re taking a break! Just make sure you get some rest too !
“Nice?” Wreck’s voice came through, a hand waving in front of Nice’s phone.
“Yes?” Nice asked, pocketing his phone.
“What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is that it looks like you’re paying an OnlyFans creator to talk to you and act like your friend.”
“More or less,” Nice said with a shrug, turning slightly. As he did, something on the counter, sitting behind a bottle of olive oil, caught his eye. “Ah, I found the bottle opener! Come on, let’s have a drink.”
“Hold on, we’re not just going to skim past this,” Wreck said, grabbing Nice’s arm.
“What’s wrong?”
Wreck sighed, rubbing his temples in the same way he did in college when Nice would admit to having energy drinks for every meal instead of real food.
“Listen, if you want to watch porn, that’s your own business. If you want to spend all your money on OnlyFans creators… well, I don’t think that’s a good idea, but it's still your business, and I’m not going to stop you.”
“Okay, so?” Nice asked, unsure where his friend was going with all this.
“Actually talking to someone, them asking about your day and stuff… look, you know it isn’t real, right? This person you’re talking to, they’re selling a fantasy.”
“Of course, I understand that,” Nice dismissed. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”
"You sure?"
"Wreck, I think if anyone understands that who we are to in our private lives and who we are to the public are very different things, it would be me and you."
“Okay…” Wreck still didn’t look convinced but seemed to be at a loss of what more he could do. “Why did you subscribe to an OnlyFans account in the first place?”
“Oh, he’s a cosplayer! He looks just like me; do you want to see?” Before Wreck could reply, Nice had pulled out his phone and was opening the OnlyFans app.
“Please don’t show me porn of someone who looks like you.” Wreck covered his eyes, sounding even more long-suffering than he did a moment ago.
“He has normal pictures, too.” Nice waved away his friend's hesitation, pulling up a photo in which TheNicestThing was fully dressed in his suit. “Look.”
“I… what the hell? He really does look just like you.”
“Right? It’s wild.”
Wreck squinted at the screen, studying the picture. “You know, I feel like that actually makes it more weird that you’re following him specifically.”
“That’s just how I found him. With everything on his pare Nice themed, it kind of feels like it’s all made for me, you know? Like a present.”
“No. No, I really don’t.”
Nice shrugged. Leaving Wreck in the kitchen, Nice went over to the couch and sat, finally opening his beer bottle.
“Don’t you think he’d be uncomfortable if he found out who you are?" Wreck asked, following him and flopping down next to Nice. "You’re not just some lonely office worker; you’re Nice. You’re the person he has a whole channel built around.”
“I have just as much reason to keep private who I am as he does. He’ll never find out, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Why bother, though? It’s one thing to subscribe, but actually interacting with him is kind of weird.”
“Why shouldn’t I? It’s nice.” Nice smiled. "Get it? Nice ?"
Instead of laughing, Wreck just looked concerned.
“Hey, are you okay, man?”
Not at all.
“Of course," Nice said. "Why wouldn’t I be?”
There was a long moment of silence, Wreck looking torn between answering or not. Eventually, he just sighed and opened his drink, too.
“Well, as long as you’re happy, I guess.”
“I don’t get why you’re so worried." Nice took a swig from his beer. "It’s not like I even participate in the dick ratings.”
“The what ?”
“The dick ratings. And like I said, I don’t do those.”
Later, as Nice lay on Wreck’s couch, listening to his friend’s soft breathing on the bed, Nice thought about his friend’s questions. Why did he keep up the conversation with TheNicestThing? Other than the daily "good morning" and "good night" texts, they didn’t actually have conversations very frequently; most days Nice was too busy running around doing hero work to be regularly checking his phone.
There were a few nights, though, when Nice felt so damn alone that he felt himself reaching for his phone. Even when TheNicestThing didn't respond right away, Nice knew that he could always just go to his page and watch videos of him. Sometimes, they were the explicit ones, but half the time, they were just the chat streams of the streamer talking about his day or some show he was watching or something else otherwise mundane.
It was comforting.
On the coffee table, Nice's phone buzzed with a notification.
TheNicestThing:
You better be asleep
The smile that spread across Nice's face felt more genuine than any other he'd had all day.
ToBeYourHero:
Of course, I am, boss.
TheNicestThing:
Has anyone ever told you that you kinda text like an old man?
ToBeYourHero:
What do you mean?
TheNicestThing:
You put periods at the end of all your sentences
It makes you sound kind of angry
ToBeYourHero:
Sentences look incomplete without them, and that bothers me.
I’m not angry, though.
It’s funny; I don’t think I’ve ever accidentally come off as angry before.
TheNicestThing:
Yeah? No resting bitch face?
ToBeYourHero:
My roommate says if my face wasn’t so pleasant looking , it would be creepy how much I smile.
TheNicestThing:
Is that a compliment? Or an insult?
ToBeYourHero:
I have no idea.
Knowing her, it's probably an insult.
TheNicestThing:
Lol
You sound so serious in texts that its kind of weird to imagine you being super smiley all the time
ToBeYourHero:
I don't mean to sound overly serious. I rarely am.
TheNicestThing:
Maybe it’s just the periods
ToBeYourHero:
Perhaps.
TheNicestThing:
Does it bother you when I dont use them?
I can if you want
In truth, it did bother Nice a little to look at the incomplete sentences—the need to fix what was wrong distracted at times from the conversation. He didn’t want TheNicestThing to change, though, even in such a small way. Even if TheNicestThing didn't divulge everything about himself, he was genuine in a way that Nice could never hope to be. It's what made him so special.
ToBeYourHero:
It’s fine.
TheNicestThing:
Maybe you should put emojis or something because being sent “it’s fine (PERIOD)” feels so ominous
ToBeYourHero:
If it would make you feel better, I can put a smiley face after every text.
:)
Is that better? :)
It wouldn't be a hard change to make. :)
TheNicestThing:
No I think it’s actually worse
Lol
Nevermind, keep on with your old man ways
And go to sleep
Old people need lots of rest
“Remember, this will be televised live. " Miss J shot a look Nice's way on that last word. "Meaning there’s no editing to erase any part.”
She, Moon, and Nice were all standing together on a rooftop, waiting for the cue from Wreck on the street below. At midnight, it should have been dark were it not for the camera crew lighting up the top of the building as they set up for the fight.
“I know what live means,” Nice reassured her.
“Which means staying on script.”
"I understand," Nice repeated.
"I'll keep him on track," Moon reassured her.
Miss J looked unconvinced, but she rarely did when it can't to Nice. Behind them, there was a crash, lightning splitting the sky and drawing all of their attention.
"Shit. It was not supposed to rain today." Miss J whipped out her phone, attention already pulled from the two heroes before her. "I swear if we have to postpone this..."
Without any more thought given to either Moon or Nice, Miss J walked off, barking orders to the camera crew around them.
“What’s wrong with me just talking?” Nice asked Moon.
Moon made a face.
“You’re just… you don’t really think before you talk.”
“I think before I talk,” Nice said, feeling slightly offended. “I don’t say everything that pops into my head. You all act like I have no filter.”
“You’re saying this is you with a filter?”
“Of course it is.”
“Dear god, help us all.”
"You're all so dramatic." Nice pulled out his own phone, checking to see if there were any missed messages. There weren't, though there was the usual Friday night notification from TheNicestThing's live show.
"What's that sigh about?"
"I'm missing another of TheNicestThing's live shows for this. He even got this new toy he was going to use for the first time, look."
"Don't show me your porn!" Moon said, shoving Nice's phone away.
"It's just a picture of the toy," Nice reassured her. "It's nothing inappropriate. Look, it has these gold ridges that—"
"Nice!" Moon snapped, shoving his hand down and almost knocking his phone out of his hand. She had that tight tone of voice, the one that said, ' people are looking at us, so pay attention and help me sell the happy couple thing.'
Nice's smile was automatic, pasted on before he even had to think about it.
"Nice! Moon!" a familiar voice called and Nice let himself relax just a little.
"Shang Chao," he said, turning to greet the man approaching them. "How are you?"
"Good! Busy, but good!" Shang Chao jogged over to them across the rooftop. "I'm glad I was able to catch you two before the fight."
Neither Nice nor Moon were particularly close to Treeman's president's son, but they'd been with the company long enough to be familiar with him. If it were anyone else, Nice would suspect nepotism had landed Shang Chao as Treeman's Head of Operations. Anyone who'd actually had a conversation with the man knew that wasn't the case. Shang Chao was friendly yet competent and remarkably skilled at getting what he wanted without ruffling too many feathers. Just two years after joining his father's company, he'd convinced the E-Soul to leave Mighty Glory for Treeman. E-Soul's subsequent mentoring of Yang Cheng and passing the mantel down to him last year was likely influenced by the young man as well.
"How's my favorite couple doing?" Shang Chao asked, a knowing smile on his lips. Given how involved Shang Chao was with everything, Nice was fairly certain he knew that the couple-act between himself and Moon was nothing more than a publicity stunt, but he wasn't entirely positive. Miss J had a habit of making plans of her own and carrying them out without bothering to consult any hire-ups.
"Perfectly happy," Moon said in her sweet in-public voice.
"Is Yang Cheng also filming today?" Nice asked, glancing around for the hero or his manager. It would be unusual for the company to set up show fights for two of their biggest heroes on the same night, but it was rare to see any of the three friends on their own.
"He's training," Shang Chao waved off. "I'm actually here to talk to you two."
"What can we do for you?"
"It's about the new trainee program," Shang Chao explained. "We just signed a new person—sweet kid, but I think he's been pretty overwhelmed by the reality of being a hero. I was hoping one of the faces of Treeman might be able to talk to him. You know, help him adjust. I'd have Yang Cheng do it, but..."
"He's usually his own bundle of nerves and wouldn't be helpful in this circumstance," Nice answered for him, which earned him a heel dug into the toe of his shoe.
"You're not wrong." Shang Chao laughed. "I love him, but he's not exactly the best at comforting people when it comes to stuff like this."
"I can talk to the trainee," Moon volunteered.
"Great! I'll go set up the details with Miss J!"
The pair waved as Shang Chao went to look for their manager.
" You're going to go meet someone and tell them how great it is to be a hero?" Nice asked.
"Better than you," Moon shot back. "I'm surprised you haven't walked off a building already."
"Well, technically, I have. Frequently. And I will again tonight."
"Don't be a smart ass," Moon bumped her shoulder with his, not quite gently, but not as hard as it could have been. "You've seemed happier lately, though."
"Have I?" Nice asked, surprised.
"Yeah." Moon's grin was the kind Nice usually only saw in the privacy of their apartment—no sweetness to be found, only teasing glee. "Porn addiction suits you."
As if the world worked in direct opposition to Moon, not even half an hour later, the entire fight had gone to shit. It wasn't just the rain, though getting hit in the face with water while flying at high speed wasn't great either.
No, it was the sudden appearance of a real villain that tipped what should have been a normal show fight into a real battle. It was happening more frequently lately, especially as the Spotlight Organization gained more power.
Usually, Nice enjoyed the challenge of a non-choreographed fight, but as the fight raged on for hours, he felt any resemblance of a good mood slip away. The fight was grueling; the fear-powered villain was a complete mismatch for Nice. The villain's body seemed to be made out of some sort of elastic material, absorbing the blows of Nice's punches with little trouble and slipping out of his grip anytime Nice managed to get his hands on him. It was enough that even Wreck ended up having to help out, throwing out some lines about Nice being "his nemesis" and that he was the only one allowed to take Nice down.
They got the villain in the end, but by the time he'd been forced into the back seat of a police car, Nice's body felt like a piece of taffy pulled past its stretching point.
Everything hurt, and he had little doubt that beneath his suit, his body was an unsightly painting of black and blue. They'd heal quickly—the Perfect Hero image meant that superficial blemishes never lasted long—but the pain was sure to linger for days.
Both covered in mud, Moon and Nice sat in silence as they were driven back to the Hero Tower. No one was in the mood to talk, not even Miss J. No one even glanced his way when Nice pulled out his phone.
ToBeYourHero:
Hey.
TheNicestThing:
Hey back
You’re up late
ToBeYourHero:
So are you.
TheNicestThing:
Yeah, but I don’t work in an office
ToBeYourHero:
Neither do I.
TheNicestThing:
Really?
I guess I just assumed because you mention overtime so much
ToBeYourHero:
My work is a little complicated . There's no consistent schedule, but somehow, there is still a lot of overtime.
TheNicestThing:
We can talk about it if you want
Nice considered it. He wanted to—wanted to tell this nameless person everything that had weighed on him for the past five years, about how everything in his life was a lie. About how much he wanted to crawl out of his skin at times. About how the dirt that clung to his clothes made him physically ill, twisting his stomach more than any punches to it had. About how many nights he spent shuffling around his apartment, scrubbing and scrubbing every surface until they became mirror-like.
Nice wanted to tell the boy about his pros and cons list and how, despite the moments of reprieve from the pressures of his life that talking to TheNicestThing offered, the pros side seemed to continue growing.
ToBeYourHero:
No, that’s okay.
TheNicestThing:
Okay
You can let me know if you do
Do you want to talk about something to get your mind off of it?
ToBeYourHero:
What did you do today?
TheNicestThing:
Recorded this week's video and have just been lazy since
Watched the Nice fight!
It wasn’t that weird for him to have seen it; after all, TheNicestThing was a nice-themed channel. Still, the mention made something in Nice's gut flip, not entirely unpleasantly.
Nice shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. And yet he still found himself typing.
ToBeYourHero:
What did you think?
TheNicestThing:
It was amazing , as always!
This week's chat stream is going to be a break down of the fight , you should join if you can!
ToBeYourHero:
I can try.
Even as he typed it, Nice knew he wouldn't be able to.
ToBeYourHero:
Will you give me an overview? In case I'm unable to watch it tomorrow.
TheNicestThing:
It's always fun to see Nice and Wreck pit themselves against each other. I know they're nemeses but you can tell that theres something more there
They seem like they really care. You can always see them pulling their punches
It was so cool to see them team up today. They've only done it once before when the Spotlight Organization targeted Nice last year, but it was probably Nice's best fight
ToBeYourHero:
What about Nice?
TheNicestThing:
He was amazing as usual. He did seem a little tired though
I hope he’s okay
ToBeYourHero:
I’m sure he will be.
With someone like you worrying for him, how could he not be?
There was a pause, three dots appearing and disappearing several times before the next message came through.
TheNicestThing:
Hey, are you okay?
ToBeYourHero:
Of course.
Don’t I seem fine?
TheNicestThing:
You sound a little off
Agitated or something
ToBeYourHero:
It’s just work. It was a long day.
TheNicestThing:
Okay
Like I said, I can listen if you want to talk about it
Have you watched my newest video? I posted one earlier tonight
ToBeYourHero:
Not yet. I'm still on my way home, and I don't think my roommate would appreciate me playing it in the car.
TheNicestThing:
Oh god please dont play it in public
ToBeYourHero:
I won't.
Besides, I like just talking right now.
TheNicestThing:
Me too
You’re really fun to talk to. You're kinda funny
Kind of
ToBeYourHero:
Usually, when I’m told that, it’s not meant as a compliment.
TheNicestThing:
What do you mean?
ToBeYourHero:
Just that being funny isn't really part of my image. Anyone close enough to me to think that is more likely to call me odd than funny.
TheNicestThing:
I'll just have to find you funny enough to make up for the rest of the world then
Even with his demanding schedule keeping Nice from checking his messages as often as he wanted, just having a single thing to look forward to in a day made such a difference. Perhaps this was why people dated—actually dated, not contractually tolerated each other as he did with Moon. The very idea of inviting someone else's messiness into his life had felt so unappealing for so long, but now he felt like he finally understood.
Of course, they weren't dating—a fact that Nice did his best to remember. Because Wreck was right; the entire relationship he had with the streamer was a fantasy. Nice had to remind himself that he wasn’t special, that he was literally paying for this and wasn’t even the only one. The creator’s subscriber count may have been hidden, but by the number of likes he got on his posts, it was clear that he was popular. At least some of those people had to be top-tier supporters, too. Which meant that other people were getting the same type of messages; there were other people that NicestThing spent his time thinking about.
For once, Nice wasn’t special.
The longer Nice was subscribed, though, the harder it was to remember that. From the moment he opened his eyes, his phone was in his hands, desperate looking for notifications. And more often than not, he wasn’t disappointed.
TheNicestThing:
Why do I see a timestamp for 3am for your last response? Haven’t I told you to prioritize sleep?
ToBeYourHero:
Work kept me up.
TheNicestThing:
Isn’t that the third time this week? You need to take care of yourself
ToBeYourHero:
Unfortunately, I can’t say no.
TheNicestThing:
No one can cover for you? You can’t be the only one who can do it, can you?
ToBeYourHero:
Maybe not, but I can’t leave my work to other people . The only way I know if it’s done right is if I do it myself.
TheNicestThing:
You’re really admirable, you know that?
Still though
I worry about you
The last words went straight to Nice’s very soul.
“It’s just his job. It’s just his job,” he repeated to himself as he pulled on his outfit. Before he pocketed his phone, there was another buzz.
TheNicestThing:
Also
Good morning <3
ToBeYourHero:
Good morning.