#fic: band au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

idlerin · 3 months

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CAN I CALL YOU MINE?

celebrity!sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

the ikarus incident (band au)

+ word count: 9.3k

content — you're the miya twins younger sister yes, essentially brothers bsf (thats if sakusa treats atsumu as a bff, tsumu says yes, still up for debate), in this au inarizaki is based in tokyo!, as usual can be read as a stand-alone despite it being part of a mini series :3, uhh light angst for now, reader has had a crush on sakusa since childhood, she has a fan acc dedicated to him and he knows abt it too lol. oh and four year age gap.

it seemed like everyone (well, mostly your brothers) was against the idea of you liking sakusa, even sakusa himself. although you'd do everything you can to reach him, impossible it may be.

“IKARUS’ SAKUSA KIYOOMI and Haiba Alisa dating rumors heat up after viral video claims evidence of lovestagrams,” you read out loud, eyebrows furrowing, “What the hell are lovestagrams?”

Despite knowing this was more than likely a case of false assumptions made by story-starved journalists, you continued to read the article trending in your circle.

Fans express a mixture of dread and joy for a potential romance between Haiba Alisa and Sakusa Kiyoomi as a trending tiktok video compiles ‘dating evidence’ of the pair’s relationship. The video meticulously pieces together videos and clips of the past three years of Haiba and Sakusa’s interactions that seem to hint at a deeper relationship between the model and the music artist. The account also pieces together instagram posts of the pair that insinuate that they were near or at the same place, sharing similar poses reminiscent of ‘lovestagrams’ shared by couples.

That was when you stopped reading. You clicked out of the tab to quote the tweet the article was attached to. Words such as ‘when has sakusa ever seemed like the type to plan an ig layout?’ and ‘isn’t it weird to say that two people are dating just because they looked at each other or breathed at the same place’ that you both deleted in place of saying ‘i’d be happy if this were true’—you would not—‘only if sakusa announces it. like he’s said so many times that if he were to ever be in a relationship he’d tell the media himself’. A couple of seconds pass before you get a notification.

leia @keijisrealgf · 1m Replying to @kiyominiscient ur so real oomf. sakusa hates gossip pages byeee 7:04 PM · Jul 3, 20XX

[name] | kiyo’s future wife (real) @kiyominiscient · 36s Replying to @keijisrealgf he’s like their worst enemy lol 7:04 PM · Jul 3, 20XX

leia @keijisrealgf · 6s Replying to @kiyominiscient hes more likely to date atsumu !!! 7:04 PM · Jul 3, 20XX

In the middle of typing out a reply, your door slams open harshly, “Oi, you better be ready, we’re leaving in thirty minutes,” the sight of your older brother, Osamu, in a plain shirt and jeans (which eerily reminds you of your father) makes you turn your attention to him, “You better still not be in pajamas.”

“Is it true that Kiyo’s dating Haiba?” you ask instead, tone in slight distress, rising from your lounge on the bed. Despite your reassurance for Sakusa’s other fans, you were more than less assured of anything. The last time you had a proper conversation with the man even through text was over a week ago, and he would never tell you if he was seeing anyone.

Osamu raised a brow, “How would I know if Kiyoomi was dating anyone? And Haiba? The model?”

“Yes, the model and I don’t know, does Atsumu not tell you or something? He would tell you if that were to ever happen, right? Right?” you were insistent. You knew your twin brothers had gossip sessions without you because of their weekly calls you walk into now that you’re temporarily staying with Osamu. You wouldn’t have wanted to sit through Atsumu’s girl problems anyway, he’d ask you directly for advice (he does this a lot) if he needed it.

“I guess so?” Osamu affirms, kind of.

“You didn’t notice anything when you visited their studio two weeks ago?” you ask, looking back at the dreaded day you scheduled a pilates class because you wanted to try it out and Osamu told you last minute when he dropped you off at the gym that he was going to the studio because Atsumu paid him to make food. You stood there, mouth agape, watching as your brother drove away, missing the chance to see the love of your life—what’s worse was Osamu did that because you would have asked to come with him, “Cause ‘Tsumu would never let him be! He’d be all up in his ass about it.”

Osamu contemplates your judgment of Atsumu, “Fair, he would do that. But I didn’t notice anyone acting differently last time I went.”

You sigh in relief, “Oh oka—”

“But doesn’t that mean if Kiyoomi were to get a girlfriend he would never tell ‘Tsumu?” Osamu thinks out loud, you froze at his glaringly correct answer, “Anyways, it’s none of our business. You’ve got to get over your silly crush on the guy. Now get up, you lazy bum.”

You frown before putting your laptop to the side after shutting it down—not forgetting to hit post on the reply—you stand up, patting down the white layered maxi skirt you were wearing and fixing the sides of your top before showing him your palms to show you were all ready before he starts to nag you, “Why would I ever be lazy with an opportunity to see Kiyo? I’ll just do my hair for a bit.”

Osamu blinks at you before sighing, already used to your comments about Sakusa, “Okay just do it quickly,” he says before leaving. You were staying with him while on vacation from university because you had nothing to do if you went back to your house. Your parents were currently on a three-month-long trip touring Europe, they should be back in a month or so, and you’d hate to be stuck in the dormitory without any company (your roommate and most of your other friends went back to their hometowns or abroad), so what was left was bothering one of your older brothers.

Your other brother, Atsumu, was too busy being a famous celebrity to house you. Alright, he’s not that mean, the reality was he was too busy moving out of his old condominium and moving into his shiny new penthouse to offer you a place to stay. Even if he did make an offer, you would choose to stay at Osamu’s any day because it meant you didn’t have to cook for yourself. As much as you were interested in Atsumu’s band activities, or more specifically, bandmate, you would not suffer through the horrors of living with him again even for only two months, you’ve had plenty of experience in that field. It’s not like Osamu wasn’t the same kind of horror, he is, just in a different font, but again, he can cook!

Securing the last strand of your hair and smiling at yourself in the mirror, you put your essentials in your handbag. Grabbing the bouquet of blue dahlias made out of paper you decided to make on a whim the past week once you found out Atsumu was hosting a housewarming party and Sakusa would most definitely be attending. You eye the three flowers you spent hours perfecting, you were badly hoping Sakusa would keep them this time. Unreachable. The meaning of the flower coincided with how you felt for him. You’ve had a slight obsession with flowers and their hidden meanings since you gave him a rose on his birthday a year ago.

You skip out of the guest room to see Osamu by the counter twirling his keys, he looks at the bouquet in your arms, you asked him if it looked pretty and he replied by muttering a ‘when the hell did you even get the time to do that’ before leading you out of his cozy apartment and heading to the parking lot. The drive didn’t feel like it was forty minutes, you were humming in excitement as you clutched your hand-made bouquet to your stomach on one hand as it sat daintily on your lap and scrolled through your phone on the other to read through the latest antics on twitter.

Soon enough you were thrown in to face the security check in at Atsumu’s new place, you kind of didn’t get it when Osamu was asked to show his ID when he said that he was Atsumu’s brother. Isn’t looking at his face already enough proof? But of course you get that it’s for security reasons, it was just funny to think about since they were literally carbon copies of each other.

You continued your humming until you were in front of Atsumu’s door, you quickly faced your brother, “Samu do I look okay?”

Osamu grunted out a yes (very unhelpful) as he told Atsumu through the phone to let you guys in. You stayed fiddling with the hem of your top when the door opened and you were greeted by Atsumu, his platinum blonde dyed hair one of the only clear distinctions he had with Osamu.

“Well if it isn’t my dearest beloved sibli—” you ducked under Atsumu mid-sentence, patting his back and absentmindedly saying a ‘yeah yeah love you too’. You were faced by nothingness, portraits and paintings but no sign of people, you do admit that his marble floors facing the skyline did pose a pretty view.

“If you’d let me finish my sentence, you would’ve known everyone’s out at the patio,” an arm was lurched on your shoulder, the same arm twisted you and angled you to the direction of open glass doors leading out to a private terrace where you spot familiar silhouettes. You heard Osamu’s footfalls follow behind you two. You couldn’t escape Atsumu’s hold and was forced to be etched at his side as he stood still on his main living area with no plans of moving anytime soon.

“She’s been restless for the past hour,” Osamu quips, sitting comfortably on a sofa chair and stretching, the comment makes you the subject of Atsumu’s jabs.

“Was it because you were excited to see me?” Atsumu grins down at you, using his free hand to murder the top of your head. You made a sound similar to a hiss as you tried to shoo his hand away.

You display your displeasure with a large frown, “I see you all the time through Samu,” you grumble.

“Gross!” Atsumu’s face scrunches and Osamu raises a threatening fist from his resting position, eyes closed and completely relaxed, “I meant seeing me, I raised you!”

“You were four when I was born,” you scrutinize, trying to get his arm off your shoulder and fail again, you kept glancing behind you where you would very much like to be at the moment, “And I do see you. On the trending page on youtube, tsu-tsu,” you chuckle at the latest nickname your brother was given because of his recent performance wearing a pink tutu. That specific performance of the band went to every corner of the internet because of the ridiculousness of their costumes (well mostly because of the ridiculousness of your brother too). You couldn’t help but think Sakusa still looked attractive wearing a colorful zebra print jumpsuit.

“I rocked that, didn’t I?” Atsumu smirked, unfazed by your obvious mockery.

“Can we go out now? Shouldn’t you be accommodating your guests or something, I’m hungry,” you groan, saying the last bit as an excuse, eyes drifting out again. You spot a head of wavy strands standing from the settee and going deeper into the corner of the patio, making your eyes widen, clutching your bouquet even tighter in anticipation.

Atsumu ignores you and glances down at your flowers, “My guests are just the guys and some other old friends, they can serve themselves,” he scoffs, giving Osamu a look, “And I’m hoping those flowers are for me.”

You made a noncommittal sound, taking the bouquet in your hands away from his view, “It’s not.”

Your brothers have always been unsupportive of your feelings for Sakusa ever since you voiced it out when you turned eighteen, hoping that confessing your feelings at that age would make them more accepting of it (spoiler: it did not). They kept acting as if it was just some phase because Sakusa was one of the first guys you’ve ever known, but you knew it was deeper than that. It wasn’t like your feelings showed up overnight, you’ve liked him ever since you were eleven and moved in the house next to the Sakusas. Your family moved because your father’s job required him to stay in Tokyo, it was a difficult decision moving so far away from Hyogo and everything familiar to you, adjusting took a while.

As an eleven year old, you were upset that you had to move away from all of your friends. You sulked for days and your brothers had to use petty tricks to get you to talk to them. Teasing and annoying you were their way to get you to respond, it was torture. They did what they did because you weren’t yourself for weeks, they were worried and didn’t know how to express it properly as stupid teenage boys.

Until one day your brothers annoyed you enough that you stormed out of the house, tears brimming in your eyes as you ran and ran till you tired yourself out. You saw a bench nearby and decided to sulk even more there. You were missing your friends and was frustrated because of your brothers, you cried your heart out for what felt like hours but were really just minutes. You were sniffling to yourself and wallowing in self pity when a handkerchief was suddenly in your blurry view. You look up at the owner holding it out to you, seeing an older boy looking awkwardly to the side, you observe what you can and the most you can make of him was his wavy hair and lean figure.

“This is my second lap in the area and you’re still sitting there looking pitiful,” his words were sharp and shouldn’t have been something said to a total stranger, you knew that much at your age, your shock from his attitude momentarily made the tears stop flowing.

“So? Aren’t you going to take it?” the stranger nudges the cloth to you again as you reluctantly take it to wipe your tears. You felt a bit better knowing a stranger cared enough to approach you, even if he was a bit rude.

You watch as the stranger starts to walk away, you inhale a sharp breath and with your quavering voice you manage to utter, “Uhm stay, please,” it was so soft that you thought he didn’t hear you for a moment.

But the stranger does stop in his tracks and looks back at you with a pointed gaze that should have been intimidating, he just stood there and you realized that he was waiting for what you had to say. Now with your less blurry gaze, you observed him more objectively. Noting how he was what you and your friends would say was a cute boy, you guessed he was around your brothers’ age.

Before you could say anything else, loud, obnoxious voices started shouting your name and running towards you. You watch in horror as your brothers approach and in your surprise, you hide behind the boy you just met. It took minutes of your brothers shouting their worry and claiming how stupid you were for running around in an unfamiliar place (which you wouldn’t have done if they weren’t being so mean in the first place!). That’s why you refused to go back with them, still using the stranger as your shield. The boy was obviously starting to get more and more irritated with each second that passed, he never asked to be in this situation when he was just doing a good deed for once.

That was when the twins finally acknowledged his presence and started questioning him, the stranger explained that he saw you crying at the bench and approached you to give you something so you would stop (he said this in an annoyed tone), and that he was about to leave when they showed up. The twins, especially Atsumu, were relentless and kept drilling him with stupid accusations like ‘Were you planning to kidnap her?! Huh!?’ when Sakusa at the time barely looked like he cared.

“Stop it!” you finally intervened, stepping out from your human shield, “Stop being so mean to him! You’re already mean enough to me,” you huffed, dramatically crossing your arms and glaring at your brothers. This made Atsumu quiet down, looking at you with a large pout on his face as if that would make you start thinking he deserved forgiveness.

“Hey, you know we didn’t mean it like that,” Osamu began, stepping forward and reaching a hand towards you—a supposed comforting invitation, “We’re sorry, so let’s go home.”

“I don’t want to,” your glare was still set, your stubbornness evident as you placed your foot down. It made both of your brothers groan, knowing when you were in your mood, you were in your mood, meaning, it’s going to take them a lot of convincing and bargaining.

“Hey,” the voice from behind you caught your attention, the chilly air was making a mess of his hair, “I don’t know whatever it is that happened but you should go home. It’s getting dark and you wouldn’t want to stay out here so late,” the stranger looks at his watch.

You contemplate it because he did have a point, and you were missing the comfort of your bed… “You’re right,” your shoulders slump and you mumble a small, “Fine.”

Atsumu cheers and you glare at him again before looking at the stranger who really looks like he wanted to leave, “What’s your name?” you finally ask.

Your brothers took your calm tone as a sign that they could approach you and they flocked to your sides as if making sure you wouldn’t run away again, they also waited in curiosity for the stranger to introduce himself.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” he says, “And you guys are…?” The twins introduced themselves, their guard down after deducing that Sakusa wasn’t a threat at all. You were a bit more shy when saying your name, you suddenly felt bashful because it was now just sinking in that this stranger-no-more saw you crying your eyes out like a baby.

Sakusa was saying his long-awaited farewell when Atsumu asked him if he lived around here and Sakusa said he was ten blocks ahead to the right, Atsumu’s exact words were ‘No way?! Us too!’. It turned into you guys walking towards your homes together with Atsumu leading the conversation with Sakusa, it turns out he was dead-set on making this guy his friend. You stepped back with Osamu and just watched as Sakusa pointedly shot down a lot of Atsumu’s statements, it made you laugh.

A couple of minutes later you guys find out that you lived right next to each other, another ‘No way?!’ from Atsumu. Osamu had to push his twin back into the house to get him—metaphorically—off Sakusa in his excitement.

You stayed out as the raven-haired opened his door, you exclaimed, “I’ll give you back your handkerchief after I wash it!”

Sakusa waved his hand as an answer, the action made another grin slip through your lips.

That began a series of countless encounters and moments with the family living next door and Atsumu successfully making Sakusa his friend (still up to debate, although he successfully roped him into forming a band with two other friends so that’s a success in making him a lifetime friend for sure). You’ve had off-hand conversations with Sakusa here and there but as the days passed you grew more and more self-conscious around the teen, until one day you found yourself looking in the mirror and admitting to your reflection that you have a huge crush on Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“I thought liking Sakusa was just a phase,” Atsumu sounded baffled, this brought you back to reality, “How many times do we have to tell you he’s too old for you?”

“He is not,” you defended, four years was practically nothing! You were twenty this year! Sure you’ve liked him since you were a kid and it was just a stupid crush back then but you weren’t a kid anymore and you still like him. Doesn’t that mean something?

“He’s practically ancient,” Atsumu says as if the person he was talking about wasn’t a few feet away. The heavy weight on your shoulders makes its presence known, you look at Osamu for help but he just stares at you because he agrees with Atsumu.

You grunt, “You’re literally the same age, are you calling yourself ancient?”

“What’s the hold up?” another voice joins, you all turn to look at Suna Rintarou holding a plate with pepperoni pizza, “Atsumu you need to buy more food, and before you say anything else Akaashi and Kita agreed that we do need more food. Oh! It’s little Miya, long time no see.”

You frown at the nickname, Suna insists on calling you that even though you’ve told him countless times that you had a proper name. He’s part of the same band Atsumu and Sakusa were in, he’s also the twins’ former schoolmate at Inarizaki High which was how they met in the first place, “Hi Suna,” you greet blandly, looking defeated.

“You’re looking more and more like the twins every day,” the corner of Suna’s lips raise in a smirk as your face contorts to an expression that could only be described as disgust.

“I will start crying, tell me you don’t mean that,” you use your free hand to cover your face in exasperation at your situation. You just wanted to see and talk to Sakusa! You don’t understand why your brothers were being such a pain by keeping you away from him (which they didn’t do before, they only started with this weird intervention when you confessed your feelings for Sakusa a year ago). It wasn’t like you were going to pounce on the guy as soon as you saw him! You still had some decency and respected his space.

“I give you a part of your allowance, little brat,” Atsumu sneers. Your extra meals and clothes you were only able to buy because Atsumu spoiled you with his music money flash before your eyes.

“Tell me you didn’t mean it as a joke,” you add to remedy your previous statement. It seemed to appease Atsumu enough but it didn’t warrant him setting you free.

“This is starting to get tedious, I think it’s been enough. Let her loose,” Osamu states, standing up with his hands crossed against his chest. In his words, you scowl even as Atsumu finally lets you go, you massage the part of your shoulder where Atsumu’s weight was pressed using your free hand.

“I’m not your little pet,” you point using your handmade blue flowers in the air, dragging them from Atsumu to Osamu, as if making the statement ‘I’m going to do whatever I want’. You huff as you turn your heels to see Suna’s amused face which you glare at as well before practically running towards Atsumu’s fancy terrace.

Not before faintly hearing Suna badgering Atsumu about more food as you slide out the glass doors and are greeted by the chill of the evening air. You made eye contact and greeted the three people seated around the gray L-shaped sofa. Akaashi on the furthest to the left—the main vocalist of their band, the one most of your friends had a crush on—and Atsumu’s closest former seniors back in high school, Kita and Aran, if you remembered correctly. You knew this housewarming party would only consist of a few people because Atsumu wasn’t exactly sociable, despite his obnoxious and loud demeanor. You were surprised to not see another face though, you briefly wondered if they had another fight. You shake those thoughts away and focus on what’s important. Greeting Sakusa.

His tall figure was leaning on the edge of the patio, keeping to himself as usual. You walked around the small table displayed in the middle, sidestepping the decorative plants. You were careful as you approached, not knowing what reaction you would get. Would he act again as if he didn’t know you had feelings for him? Ignore you? Treat you coldly? But you know Sakusa wasn’t like that, despite everything, you practically grew up together. You could never be a stranger, you hoped you’d never be a stranger.

“Miya,” you almost jump in surprise at him acknowledging you first. He’s always called you by your last name, you didn’t know why when he could call the twins by their first name just fine. It’s not like he doesn’t say your name or nickname sometimes too, he just chooses to call you Miya for some reason. It improved in some way, he used to call you ‘Little Miya’ like Suna did back when you were sixteen, and you complained enough about it that he stopped.

“Were you waiting for me?” you gave him a sheepish smile, braver, stepping closer until you were standing beside him. You didn’t wait for his response in case your heart gets crushed by his answer and instead showed him the blue dahlias, “I made these for you.”

Sakusa gives one glance at the paper flowers before meeting your gaze, you wait with bated breath for his response, “You didn’t get poisoned by the rotten apple fruit shake, then?”

You almost didn’t understand what he meant, then you remembered the series of texts you sent him a few days ago which he never replied to, so you thought he hadn’t read it. You almost pout at the thought that he just didn’t want to reply, but that was typical of him already, “It looked normal on the outside okay? I told you it was Samu’s fault, who in their right mind would keep those lying around in their homes—and you’re distracting me!” you accuse once you realized he was trying to change the topic.

The corners of his lips twitch and if you hadn’t grown up with him you wouldn’t have noticed that little change in his otherwise deadpan expression, you place emphasis on your gift once again by lightly shaking it. He takes another glance, a hand reaching out to gently nudge the delicate paper-made petals with his fingers, “How long did it take you to make these?” “Around three days,” you answer dismissively, waiting patiently for him to take it, “I chose to make a nonexistent flower eternal,” you boast, proud of yourself.

“You could’ve used that time for other things, enjoy your summer break,” Sakusa says offhandedly, turning to look at the view, “Don’t waste it making gifts for me.”

“Making gifts for you is not a waste, this is the only way I can show you that what I feel for you is sincere,” your brows furrow, “And I am enjoying summer break, I’ve done a lot of things already.”

“I know,” Sakusa sighs, you didn’t know what he was referring to. Your sincerity? Or that you’ve been spending your break to the fullest? You do update him through texts from time to time, you make sure not to bother him too much for fear that he starts finding you annoying like a lot of other aspects of his life.

To your happiness, he plucks the bouquet from your hands. You were then overcome with the irrational fear that he would drop it, which was silly, “Keep it in a vase, okay?” you ask, “Preferably somewhere like your countertop or in the lobby,” you began to suggest the most visible ways he could display it, your own little way of putting bits and pieces of you in his life.

“Why didn’t you come with Osamu when he delivered Atsumu’s food?” Sakusa asks instead, changing the conversation.

A small pout forms on your lips, “He left me,” you complain, “They’re on some weird pact trying to keep me away from you.”

“They mean well,” Sakusa says, a glint of amusement in his eyes, probably imagining the twins doing everything so you wouldn’t be able to make any advances on him, “You’re their only baby sister, of course they would be protective.”

You lean against the stone railing, looking out on the view, slightly upset, “I know they mean well, that makes it worse. It’s not like I can’t think for myself, I know what I’m doing.” “Do you?” Sakusa asks, adjusting his body to look at you properly.

“You said you’d let me try,” you mumble, looking back at the time you confessed to him and declared you would try to win his heart, that he should give you a chance. At the time, Sakusa looked surprised, never thinking of the possibility that you would develop feelings for him deeper than anything platonic.

“Because I thought you’d find some other guy your age you’d focus on more when you start university,” Sakusa lets out a breath, “I’m not the one for you, Miya.”

His statement stabs you directly in the heart.

“You don’t…” you gulp, a lump stuck in your throat, “...have to like me back,” you bit down on your lower lip, “Can’t you just let me like you?”

“You mean a lot to me,” ‘just not in the way you want me to’, you could almost hear Sakusa’s train of thought, “You’re young—”

“You are not that much older,” you practically groaned, that was always their excuse.

“And yet I’ve known and experienced more in life than you,” Sakusa states bluntly, “Be serious, Miya. What you want isn’t going to work, so get over me,” talking down on you.

Your jaw clenches and you raise your chin at him, even with his frame towering over you, “It’s not that easy, Sakusa,” it was petty, not using the nickname you’ve called him since you were a kid. Being petty by using his last name as if that would put more distance between you two. It wasn’t wise letting your emotions control you, and perhaps it was proving to him more that you were still too childish for someone who already presents himself to be so mature. Though it did give the point across, that you were seriously upset, watching as something flickers in his eyes as you turn on your heels away from him.

You decide to sit in between Osamu and Akaashi, Osamu was splayed on the couch talking to Suna who was on his left about stuff you hardly care about. Even if your brother does notice your foul mood, he doesn’t point it out. Atsumu walks in holding three more boxes of pizza with a delivery guy trailing behind him holding more drinks. Which consisted mostly of alcohol and a few juices, which was most likely for your benefit. You were allowed to drink but you never liked the taste of alcohol. You watch as Atsumu directs the guy to put it on the side and that’s when you lose interest, choosing to listen in on Osamu and Suna instead.

You were catching in on their topic, but you were mostly just confused. It looks like they’re talking about Osamu’s planned business. You know this one, the onigiri franchise he wants to start. He’s working a corporate job right now to save up for his restaurant-ish (you didn’t really know what to call it), he didn’t want to risk focusing on that immediately after graduating. You know he’s near his goal, you’ve been hearing talks about finding the right building and stuff. All this business talk almost distracts you from your previous state of anger.

“Can I sit there, Akaashi?” you don’t look up to see the one person you’ve wanted to see all night. You knew he was blunt, that was just the kind of person he is, and you were used to it. Doesn’t mean just because you were used to it and you liked him, that you were immune to getting your feelings hurt.

“Sure,” Akaashi says nonchalantly, he was just on his phone the whole time you sat here, he also probably noticed you weren’t in the mood which was why he didn’t attempt conversation. You see in your peripheral vision Akaashi offering to help Atsumu with arranging the food.

You continued to listen in on Osamu’s conversation, it was beginning to be difficult to ignore the presence next to you. Your body was always hyper-aware when he was settling down, it betrays your need for indifference.

In your view, a bottle of juice was presented, it was one of your favorite flavors, “Your drink,” his voice was closer, closer than you were when you were together on the ledge. It was so difficult to stay mad at him. This was his way of making amends, you knew, and it was hard to act like you didn’t like it when he paid special attention to you. When you take no action to take the drink, he places it on the table top in front of you.

“I’ll get you food,” he says, standing up and leaving the space beside you empty. It was natural, his knowledge of knowing exactly how to appease you. It makes you feel even more devastated knowing he’s just doing this because of his years spent on familiarness with you and your habits, usually, he’d be doing this after Atsumu or Osamu (or even both of them) did something to upset you. To him, you were still the shell of the child you used to be and that meant he still wouldn’t be taking you seriously.

That was partially your fault, you were still so… emotional and childish. You knew that, you were trying to work on it, really. Based on the way you acted just a few minutes ago, you’d have to work harder. Your gaze lands on the spot at the empty seat he was in where your blue dahlias rested, he decided to keep them after all. Your chest tightens in even more fondness. Osamu glances once back at you and you shove him away.

When Sakusa came back, you took the food he offered with no complaints and drank the juice he placed in front of you, murmuring a soft, “Thank you.”

“I heard you still have that fan account up, Rika says you play pretend there,” Sakusa mentions once he settles down beside you again, gauging that you were in the mood again to talk to him properly.

You were still a bit ashamed because of how you acted, which is why you replied hesitantly, “It’s not playing pretend, I’m genuinely a fan.”

“Rika says she saw some of your tweets acting like you didn’t know Atsumu,” Sakusa seemed amused at this notion which distracted you enough that you didn’t care Rika was technically stalking you. Komori Rika was Sakusa’s cousin who works for him as his assistant, you’ve met her a couple of times and you text her whenever you want to know if Sakusa was busy or not (so you would know if it was okay to message him). She was very sweet to you so you didn’t mind it that much.

“It’s not just online, I don’t tell anyone he’s my brother—mostly because they don’t ask. And my friends would start acting differently if they knew I was directly related to ‘Tsumu,” your nose scrunches. It does disgust you when one of your friends starts gushing over him, it is probably better that you never say that fact about your family relations because your friends would start being mortified remembering all the things they said about these guys.

Sakusa hummed, knowing that part of the reason why you don’t tell people you knew Ikarus and was related to one of the band members was because of your worry that people would start befriending you because of that. He was there when your high school friendships fell apart, after all.

“What’cha guys talking about?” Atsumu intrudes by sitting between you and Sakusa, your face contorts into another unpleasant expression as Atsumu makes his presence very known and very unwanted.

You give a look at Sakusa, silently saying ‘See? I told you so’ which he responds by giving Atsumu a once-over, “You’re half-sitting on my thigh,” Sakusa grunts at him, moving to the side to be free of your brother.

“Omi-omi my guy, you know our connection transcends beyond the naked eye,” Atsumu threw an arm around Sakusa’s shoulder as you rolled your eyes and took a bite of your pizza.

For the rest of the night, you never got the chance to talk to Sakusa one-on-one again. You’d try to start a conversation with him and Atsumu butts in with his own smart-ass answer unrelated to your question in the first place. Eventually, you gave up because you knew Atsumu wouldn’t back down. You stood up from your seat, earning a few glances from the men around you. When Atsumu asks where you’re going, you say you planned to raid his house. He lets you be and you take one look back at Sakusa who was getting bothered by Atsumu before stepping inside the living room again.

First, you walked aimlessly but your feet led you to the kitchen. You started opening Atsumu’s cupboards only to find them disappointedly empty. The fridge was your next stop, you open the freezer and find chocolate bars you gladly steal. You sat on one of the countertop stools, distantly hearing Suna and Atsumu’s laughter.

What can you do for Sakusa to take you seriously? Maybe you should distance yourself for a bit, make him miss you. You chuckle at the absurd thought, in your dreams. Though it would be okay to get some space away, you’re not giving up, not by a long shot. But you’ve never really given much thought to what Sakusa’s type was since he’s never dated anyone—no one that you know of—for the past almost decade of knowing him. During high school, he only cared about his studies and the band. Then in college—where you started seeing him less—you don’t know of him dating anyone. Maybe you should ask Rika? Or maybe Motoya? Since they’re the same age.

Having a plan decided, you hum to yourself, satisfied. Biting off the last piece of chocolate, you threw the wrapper in a trash can. Then you found that the drums Atsumu had displayed in the living room interested you, spotting a pair of drumsticks lazily thrown on a desk. You take these sticks and put one experimental hit on the cymbals. A stinging ring echoed in the room.

“Oi! You better be careful with that!” Atsumu shouts from the patio, but doesn’t storm in to take them from you so that must be a good sign.

When you were younger, he never even let you near his instruments. That made playing with his instruments even more desirable. Music has always been Atsumu’s thing—well, the playing instruments part, he wasn’t very blessed vocally, Osamu used to take lessons too but stopped because it didn’t interest him enough. Your parents tried to put you through music lessons, but after accidentally plucking off the strings of your guitar one by one, they decided that for your own safety, you weren’t allowed to touch instruments.

You can still clearly remember the day Atsumu brought the three other boys home and declared he was going to start a band with them. The only person that interested you back then was Sakusa, because you didn’t know he was musically inclined. You would sneak into their practices in the extra room in your house and would stay even when Atsumu would screech at you to leave. There were days when they went to Akaashi’s house to practice so you were left pouty because you were unable to come with.

Sometimes, Sakusa was the only one who would come to your house because Atsumu begged him enough to play with him. Those were the days you enjoyed the most because Sakusa let you stay with him and watch him play the guitar. You asked him once why he didn’t play the electric guitar in the band, he said that he preferred playing the bass because it was a more reserved position, they weren’t too loud but they were a vital part of giving soul to the art (his words, not yours). That made you respect bassists even though you knew nothing about the music industry.

It was the first time you saw Sakusa with that expression on his face—at peace—it made you think that this path really must be something he loved. You were overjoyed when his and the band’s efforts paved off, even though it meant seeing him and your brother even less. They became busy, too busy for you, but you’ve learned that it was nice seeing them trending and going viral. Your social circles began to talk about them and they fawned over you too for being Atsumu’s sister.

Of course, all good things come to an end and people who you thought were your closest friends just used you to get close to them. Sakusa was there during the fallout, he checked in on you and asked if you were okay. He even took you out to distract you in place of Atsumu, who had a brand deal scheduled at the time outside the city, and Osamu, who was also out of the district for an internship. Sakusa stayed with you as you cried and cared for you more than you could ever ask. Before that, you began to think your childhood crush on him was fading but that experience when you were seventeen was when you realized that your feelings for Sakusa never left even with the distance life took him, and it probably never will.

“I’m hopeless,” you mumble to yourself, letting go of Atsumu’s drumsticks.

It only took a few minutes for Osamu to call you saying you’re going because he still had work early the following morning, all the guys say their farewells to you two. Atsumu was a tad bit over-dramatic because he was a tad bit drunk. Osamu had to pull you away from Atsumu’s embrace. You met eyes with Sakusa, giving a smile reserved just for him before Osamu completely dragged you out, noticing you were quote en quote ‘making goo-goo eyes at the poor guy’.

The rest of your summer break was uneventful.

You managed to beg Osamu to take you to a pottery class on his day off, it was fun at first but Osamu showed extraordinary skill in pottery that made your work pale in comparison. You sent a picture of you two to the group chat you had with Atsumu and the latter spammed crying emojis and threatening gifs. On Atsumu’s day off you went to a bake-your-own cake store with him, his platinum blonde hair begged for attention so you forced him to wear a beanie the whole time.

The end of break was nearing and in your last week, your parents had gone back so you had a nice complete family dinner for once. The next few days you started to pack your things again because you had to move back into your dorm, were three suitcases and a large shoulder bag a bit excessive for a two-month stay? You’d like to think not.

You were posed with another problem though, Osamu couldn’t take you back to your university because he had some three-day team building thing he was going to a day before you were supposed to go back. You thought it would be okay because you asked Atsumu and he was free that afternoon, he said that he just had a promotional shoot in the morning but he would be able to pick you up, so you thought you were all settled.

On the day itself, you stood in the lobby of Osamu’s building when Atsumu sent a message. You were starting to get irritated because he was supposed to be here by four, he promised to be here by four.

annoying blonde brother 4:00 PM I CANT MAKE IT IM SO SORRY :<< I TRIED TO I SWEAR THE SHOOT IS STILL GOING ON I THOUGHT IT WOULD FINISH EARLY BUT WE APPARENTLY HAD SOLO SHOTS???

you 4:01 PM why do u hate me :(

annoying blonde brother 4:01 PM I DONT IM SORRY IM SO SORRY :<<<< HB U WAIT IN OSAMUS APT FOR A BIT?? ITLL ONLY TAKE AN HOUR MORE I THINK

you 4:02 PM i cant i alr locked the door and left the keys inside because you were supposed to be here by now.

annoying blonde brother 4:03 PM I KNOW I KNOW IM SORRY OK WAIT THERE IN THE LOBBY ILL GET SOMEONE TO PICK YOU UP

You frown as you sit on one of the lobby chairs, alone with the receptionist. You pull your two suitcases against your legs and hug your shoulder bag, having nothing better to do. You scroll aimlessly on your feed, it wasn’t like you could do anything but wait as patiently as you possibly can in your irritable state for this ‘someone’ Atsumu is roping in to help you.

annoying blonde brother 4:11 PM he’s on his way

Atsumu neglects to tell you who this ‘he’ is. How were you supposed to know who it was? You don’t question it further, not replying back, your own form of rebellion. How could he promise to pick you up and then tell you at the last minute that he couldn’t? He had major making up to do, that’s for sure, you were not going to let him off easily. With that final thought, you were already browsing for links to clothes you’d make him buy for you.

Thirty minutes passed and you were already getting bored out of your mind. You had your head buried in your bag when your phone buzzed, signaling that it received a notification. You almost dropped your phone when you saw who it was from.

kiyo <3 4:43 PM I’m outside Osamu’s building

Sakusa? Sakusa was the one Atsumu asked to pick you up? Unbelievable. Was it his way of making up to you? What? Huh? That doesn’t seem like something Atsumu would do. What? You were puzzled, but oddly happy.

Once you got yourself together you stood up, making sure to fix yourself up, looking at your reflection on the walls. You hurriedly gather your suitcases, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You talk yourself into calming down, since this was the first time you’d be talking to him in a while. You refrained from messaging him, practicing your self-restraint, but you missed talking to him so much, even when his replies barely held any substance.

Walking towards the pavement, your heels creating a clicking sound. You held your breath as you finally saw his familiar figure leaning against his sleek black ride, was it a new car? You’ve never seen it before. His hair was styled from their usual free curls and he wore a classy white button up that hugged his body nicely. He looked straight out of a magazine—which was probably exactly where he came from. He looked up at you and your luggage.

He started walking closer to you and all you could say was a breathless, “Hi.”

Sakusa reaches for your suitcases and you gladly let him take them, “Straight to your dormitory?”

“Atsumu asked you?” you asked once you got your thoughts organized coherently, it was a spectacle you still couldn’t comprehend.

You saw that same ghost of a smile on Sakusa’s face again, “He asked Akaashi and Suna first, but they were still doing their solo shots. He even tried asking our manager. I was the last person he asked, even though I was the first one to finish, he looked pained doing it too.”

That sounded more like Atsumu, a smile plastered on your face, “Even better, fate wants us to be together.”

Sakusa shook his head as he got your shoulder bag. You followed him as he put your luggage in the back of his car, he told you to get in and you complied, walking over to the passenger seat. Happy to use this as a way to spend more time with him, and catch up with what you’ve missed in the month and a half you made yourself Sakusa-free (that didn’t mean you had to stay away from the media though, he posted exactly one instagram post that you liked immediately), that was technically abiding by being contactless.

The seatbelt clicks into place and you wait for Sakusa to get inside, you are silent as he starts to drive.

“Thank you for picking me up,” you say, hoping to start a conversation. Your university wasn’t that far from Osamu’s, probably around thirty to forty minutes away, but you didn’t know how to drive and you didn’t want to take the train with all of your necessities.

“Do you need help bringing your luggage up once we’re there?” Sakusa asks, steering, your eyes following the movement of his hands. “Uhm,” you wanted to lie and say yes, “No, I don’t think so. We have an elevator, and it would be more troublesome for you because you’d have to sign a sheet to go in. You might run into a fan too, you might see your name trending again.”

“Okay,” was his only reply. He continued to drive silently as you moped while thinking of a way to start another conversation. Time was ticking and you hadn’t realized almost an hour drive could feel this fast, does the world hate you after all?

Your brain cells were saved when Sakusa spoke next, “Have you thought about it?”

“About what?” you rubbed your palms to keep warmth, confused by what he meant.

“Dating guys in your university,” he states plainly. Your mouth hung slightly as you were struck by the memory of your conversation out at Atsumu’s patio.

You purse your lips, gripping the edge of your leather seat, “Absolutely not.”

Sakusa surprised you yet again with what he said next, “I thought that was the reason why you weren’t messaging me.”

You gaped at him, disbelieving. You didn’t even think he would notice! Suddenly you were overcome with a burst of joy, “You missed me?” you sounded way too happy for your own good.

Sakusa went completely silent. You knew you weren’t going to get an answer out of him but you were still happy with the thought of him waiting for a message from you. It was likely enough to keep you happy to be simply looking out the window on the whole way to your dormitory. But of course, you don’t miss the chance to talk to him more. You asked him a few questions here and there like how the new album was holding up and the shoots and other important marketing stuff the band needed to attend to. He answered in short one-word answers and if you were lucky, a full sentence.

Your good mood toned down when you were on the street that led to your dormitory, knowing you’d have to say goodbye to him again soon.

“Why don’t you consider it?” Sakusa asks as he stops the car in front of your building, “Seeing other guys?”

It was a bit funny how your mood went completely sour, when you were brimming with happiness a few minutes ago. Your expression was passive as you say, “I told you, you’re the only one I like,” he was bringing this up again. He couldn’t get it through his head that you would only ever like him.

“You started liking me when you were barely a teen,” Sakusa references your confession to him, where you admitted that you’ve liked him ever since you met him, “You should give yourself a chance to look at other people.”

“You won’t even look at me,” your shoulders curled, you felt like your chest was caving in on you with how loud it beat. You wondered if he could hear it.

“You’re better off with another guy,” Sakusa insists, leaning against his seat, exasperated, as if you were draining the life out of him.

“So you keep saying,” you say in almost a whisper, “Is it because you’re already seeing someone?” you ask, your mind thinking of other possible reasons as to why he didn’t even seem to want to let you like him. If he were to say that he was, you’d stop. Even though it would hurt.

“No,” Sakusa sighs, completely turning off the engine.

“Then why can’t you even let me like you?” your voice almost cracks at the end. Your nails dug in your palm.

“Stop being stubborn, Miya,” Sakusa faces you completely, his jaw set, his eyes, the only tell for his actual emotions.

“Am I not pretty enough?” it was out before you could control yourself, you couldn’t even look him in the eye because of how ashamed you were at your question, “Sorry, I know you’re not the type to be shallow about appearances. But, of course you still have standards and that… might not… be me,” your voice getting fainter the more you talk.

There was a ringing in your ear, you felt lightheaded. Thinking of ways to remedy the situation, a sour situation you turned even more dour. You started feeling anxious in your seat, too bare, too exposed.

A touch was what got you out of your blinded stupor. A touch that was cold against your warmth.

“That’s not it at all,” a gentle hand raised your chin so you could meet his gaze, “You’re getting it all wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again, guilty you were letting him in your emotional frenzy.

“Don’t… apologize,” Sakusa began looking frustrated, his jaw ticking and his eyes shaky, “You’re beautiful, okay?”

You blinked, once, twice.

Despite all the signs that you weren’t dreaming, you still weren’t convinced this was your reality. Sakusa just called you beautiful. Sakusa told you, you were beautiful. Sakusa called you beautiful. No matter how many times you rephrase it in your head, it still felt unreal. You dumbly stared back, not knowing what to reply.

“I, uhm, o-okay?” you embarrassingly stutter out. Sakusa found you beautiful.

“I’m only looking out for you,” the hand still on your chin caressed your cheek. His words brought your senses back. You were afraid he was going on another tirade about how your affection shouldn’t be directed at him. That you should find some other guy to pour your heart out to. That no matter what you do, he would never be the one for you.

You nibbled on your lower lip, observing as his gaze fell down to it and back up to meet your unsteady stare.

“But…” you began, thinking of comebacks, reasons, anything, “I like you,” your eyes fluttered, in the end, that was the only thing that mattered to you, “So much,” your voice was fragile, and you could barely look at him straight.

You watched as his gaze sharpened, you waited seconds for a frustrated remark but it never happened. Instead, it looked like he was contemplating something. You waited, patient, willing to take whatever it was that he was willing to give you. And then finally, as if he couldn’t resist it, he tilted your head to the side and slowly, softly, lips barely grazing your cheek. Like his touch, it was cool, yet it gave you warmth all the same as heat rose to your face.

It was quick, and abrupt, and he let go of you immediately after as if your skin gave him burns.

Sakusa was tense as he opened the door and stepped out of the car. You gulped, your heart wanted to escape your chest, and you could hardly remember how to breathe.

Steadily—as steady as you can manage in your current state—and carefully, a hand went up to hold your cheek where Sakusa kissed you.

a/n — alright so i went a lil crazy with this one BUT MY EXCUSE IS i am in love with sakusa kiyoomi HES SO UGH mine

general taglist + @luvrsthrist @cherries4denki @cloud-lyy @misscaller06 @noideawhothatis @wolffmaiden @rivaiken @wooasecret @nicerthanu @sukunasrealgf @ris-krispie @seiamor @electriclovei @leeknowsarchive @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @sexyandcringe @rinheartshyunlix @wh0zumy2k @iluv-ace @xiakyo @sanaexus @clyches @noble-17 @renardiererin @gra-eae @ilyless @girlincrimson

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porcelainseashore · 6 months

Text

Pairing: Guitarist! Leon Kennedy x Singer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You've joined Chris, Claire and Leon in Stars Rebellion as the band's new lead vocalist. If you thought chasing fame was hard, dealing with your growing feelings for a certain blonde guitarist might just take the cake.

Content & Warnings: Rock bands, friends to lovers, romance, slow burn, feelings realization, fluff and angst, swearing, recreational drug use, drinking, implied alcohol abuse, sexual harassment, suggestive themes, panic attacks, religious guilt, other Resident Evil characters (Chris, Claire, Ada, Wesker, Jill, Luis, Irons, Steve).

Authors' Note: Mostly imagined RE4R Leon in this, though he's a cocky little shit in the beginning and mellows out later. As inspo, I’ve had Ethel Cain’s Michelle Pfeiffer on repeat and you’ll see why in the story. Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for your wonderful feedback!

AO3 Link

It had only been a few weeks since you’d joined the Stars Rebellion, the band you were currently in, thanks to the recommendation of a friend of a friend. You’d somehow coasted along through college, finally free of your parents’ clutches, and made a new life for yourself along the way. It was as if you could be who you really were, without any tied past or history holding you back, and you’d never felt more alive.

You were backstage, warming up before it was time to head out for your first performance. Chris had come over to give everyone a pep talk, while Leon tapped out a beat on the body of his pacific blue Fender guitar impatiently. Claire was nodding away to her brother’s words as she frowned at herself in the cosmetic mirror, the bright LED lights illuminating her flawless skin. You sat at the back, quietly keeping to yourself as you always do, ignoring the jitters in your hands. The adrenaline was kicking in now, you were used to it. Soon, you’d be a completely different person. It was as if once you were on stage, a match was struck and you were on fire.

For now, you contented yourself with recalling the events of how you ended up with this motley crue. It had been a warm, humid Thursday afternoon, when you were done with your classes for the day, and you made your way over to one of the rental practice rooms at the back of a second-hand record store just a little off campus. Your friend Jill had told you that another friend of hers was looking for a new vocalist for their band. Seeing how you’d been singing on and off with various student bands that never really had the drive to go anywhere, she hooked you up, stating that said friend, Claire, was the most determined person she’d ever met.

So here you were, knocking on the door of the shabby, makeshift rehearsal room, covered in countless band and anarchic motto stickers.

“Come on in!” A chirpy, high-pitched voice called out.

The door creaked on its hinges as you opened it by just a crack, enough for you to poke your head through.

“Aw, she’s a shy one,” a boy with floppy, blonde hair who was sitting at the corner, hunched over his guitar remarked. His tone had no hint of maliciousness in it, just pure curiosity.

“Shut it, Kennedy.” The lady, wearing a distinct red leather jacket that matched the color of her hair tied back in a springy ponytail, rolled her eyes before greeting you with a warm smile.

“Hey…” She stuck her hand out, as you cautiously entered the room, taking in the new faces around you. “I’m Claire. You must be Jill’s friend.”

You returned back a feeble smile as you shook her hand. “Yeah, uh, and the Stars Rebellion, huh?”

“That’s right,” a beefy guy with cropped, dark brown hair behind the drum kit piped up. “Our previous vocalist left,” he paused, with his brows furrowed as if he had been reminded of something unpleasant. “You know how it’s like these days.”

You nodded understandingly as he continued. “We’ve got a sweet gig in about two weeks, so we need a replacement fast. You heard our stuff?”

“Yeah, ’course.” Jill had sent you all the recordings and info you needed to prepare yourself for today.

“Great, so-”

“Whoa, hold up a second,” Claire interjected. “Older brothers,” she sighed. “You know what they’re like.” She pointed towards the drummer. “Speaking of which, that’s my very own one over there.”

“Chris, say hello,” she ordered.

“Hi,” his monotone greeting accosted you while he waved over with a drumstick in hand. His confident and no-nonsense persona struck you as someone who was the natural leader of the group.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s really a cuddly bear underneath,” she whispered loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. “Isn’t that right, Chris?”

He grunted in reply, still looking as stoic as ever, his square jawline unflinching, as if his sister’s words had no effect on him.

“Anyway, I guess you can already tell, I’m on bass.” She swayed her hips a little, gesturing towards the instrument that was strapped around her.

The blonde cleared his throat, seemingly irritated at being relegated to the position of the last person to be introduced.

“And that.” She pointed over to him. “Well, that’s just Leon.”

With a bold smirk, he cradled the guitar to his chest, as his fingers danced along the fretboard, unleashing a cool, intricate riff that spiraled through the air.

“Also a fucking show off,” Claire retorted.

You caught his gaze and the bright blue eyes that lured you in dangerously close, like you were Icarus flying towards the sun. He was one of those boys your father had warned you about. Handsome, charming, but the devil in disguise. You could still hear his stern words about perdition and hellfire booming in your ear. You closed your eyes before they hurt too much.

“So, erm, why don’t we start with the first track on our demo?” Claire’s voice snapped you out of your reverie.

Blinking your eyes open, you bowed your head slightly in response, before getting into position behind the mic. You can do this. A silent prayer reverberated through your head, as the opening chords played.

And just like it happened every time, that magical switch flipped, and you became someone else entirely different from yourself, yet it belonged to every part of you. As you bellowed, growled and sighed breathily into the mic like a rockstar on acid, you noticed a change in the air around you and how your future bandmates looked at you in awe. It felt like an electric current coursing through your veins. It felt like coming home.

You only needed to go through another two more songs, before they were completely floored and decided there and then that they wanted you in. The vibe between the four of you was great, there was no denying that. And you had already started throwing in some moves that were usually saved for performances with Leon, as all of you jammed together.

“That was fucking awesome!” Leon exclaimed, with Claire following suit. Even Chris was smiling widely.

“Yeah, that felt really good,” you panted, a little out of breath from the exertion.

All at once, Chris patted you on the back, cementing your entry. “Welcome to the family.” You felt your heart tug at the last word. Could you really belong here now?

“Nice to finally have another girl in the band!” Claire blurted out, as she pulled you in for a quick hug.

“Mm hm, very nice.” Leon gave you a cheeky wink, before Claire smacked the back of his head.

“Behave.”

“Oh, I will,” he snickered.

You shuddered, wondering how a silly remark like that could get you so riled up, as you chose to suppress whatever thoughts that came bubbling towards the surface. He was just one of those cocky bastards who would let fame get to their head, you discerned. Probably had a bunch of groupies lined up too. So you paid no more attention to him than needed.

A large, rough hand landed on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “You good?”

You shook yourself out of the daydream, coming back to reality backstage, as you eyed the imposing, broad figure in front of you. “Yeah, I’m ready. Thanks, Chris.”

“Don’t mention it.”

As you strode out onto the stage, the crowd clapped and whistled, though the reception seemed rather lukewarm. Perhaps most of them were waiting for the later bands, who also happened to be the more established ones, to play. It didn’t matter though. Your job was to get them hyped up, and you knew how to do it well.

Leon nodded at you, indicating that he’d start running through the beginning licks of the song on the setlist you’d all prepped. At the same time, he gave you an encouraging smile, which eased the tension a little. Even though you’d only got to know him a few weeks ago, you soon realized that your first impression of him wasn’t exactly the most accurate, and that despite being an insufferable prick, he had another side to him that was caring and gentle. He’d patiently helped you run through the songs with him, and even took a couple of your suggestions in improving them. He hung out with you outside of band practice, wanting to get to know you as a person, and trying to make you feel comfortable within the group. Most musicians had a stick up their ass and would’ve never given you the time of day. But he did. You’d even go as far as to call him a lovable asshole.

As the whirring of Leon’s guitar filled the space, you clenched your fist, pumping it above your head as you let out a low snarl into the mic, before belting out the lyrics, your voice raw and powerful as it soared over the riffs and the steady rhythm of the drum and bass. At a particularly heavy drop, you leaped into the air, before landing on your feet and tearing through the vocals as you rocked out with Leon at the front, playing off the energy you exchanged with each other.

It was infectious, like a feverish dream, and the crowd’s excitement grew. Among the sea of bodies pressed together, you could just about make out the look of enthusiasm on their faces, their eyes sparking with the thrill of the moment, as they jumped, moshed and cheered to the music. Time seemed to pass by so quickly, as one song flew into the other. In between, you made sure to introduce the band, thank the organizers and the audience themselves, coaxing more screams and shouts in unison as you teased them about hearing another song, what it was about, praising them on how great of a crowd they were, and with a sly wink, asking them if they could give you more. And they were more than happy to oblige.

In the final track, a devilish grin broke out across your face as you turned towards Chris and Claire, both of them laughing and shaking their heads as they knew what was coming next, before you faced the audience again. Tapping your foot in time to the beat, you murmured sultrily into the mic, “You wanna see me swallow this mic whole?”

The crowd went mental at the proposal as your velvety laughter rang out across the venue. “Come on, you can do better than that.” You pouted, licking your lips suggestively. “How much do you want it?”

Once the crowd roared, you nodded in approval and pulled the cord of the mic taut between your hands, making a grand show of it, as you tilted your head back, slowly inserting the head of the mic downwards into your mouth. As it went in, you bit at the bottom of the head, gripping it securely between your teeth, as you went hands free and a scream ripped through your throat at the climax of the song.

Sweat and energy radiated from every pore, as your band members kicked into action. Leon jutted his hips out, launching into a fierce, breathtaking guitar solo, his fingers pressing and weaving in and out of the strings like a blinding lightning. Claire remained the grounding force in a whirlwind of melodies, keeping a consistent beat effortlessly, as her head swayed from side to side. Chris added to the wall of sound with each strike and rattle of the snare drum, quickening the pace as he worked in the bass drum pedal and clashes on the cymbals in perfect timing, his eyes laced in concentration on the controlled chaos unfolding before him.

To say you ended in a bright explosion of sound was an understatement. The four of you hugged each other tightly and bowed to a resounding chorus of cheers and hoots, stamping their feet for yet another encore. You saluted and waved at them, your final words spilling out into the mic in gratitude, “Thanks so much, we are the Stars Rebellion! Have a good night!”

As you headed off stage, Leon pounced behind you, pulling you flush against his chest in a sweaty hug as you gasped in surprise. His hair was in a mess, darkened and clinging to his forehead in damp tendrils. “Holy shit, you were a completely different person up there! Y’know, like Ian fucking Curtis or something?”

He blabbered on nearly incoherently, name-dropping various famous lead singers. “Karen O, yeah? And Alice Glass…”

“God, just give her a break already,” Claire giggled as she shoved Leon off of you.

You stifled a laugh, your meek personality returning the more you moved away from the spotlight. “Yeah, I guess? Um, thanks.”

Leon paused, looking at you in disbelief as he shook his head. “Jeez, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Lady in streets, freak in the sheets,” he mumbled almost inaudibly as you choked on your saliva and coughed violently at his quip.

“Leon,” Chris warned, as Leon held his hands up in mock surrender.

Turning towards you, Chris sighed wearily, “Sorry about that. You did good though.”

Before you had a chance to answer, an alluring, provocative voice interrupted. “You all did good out there.”

Spinning around, you came face-to-face with a stylishly dressed lady in a red, skintight catsuit and dark leather heeled boots. A sleek, black bob framed her face, highlighting her sharp features and high cheekbones. You noticed that she focused all her attention on Leon, even though she was addressing the group.

Leon’s eyes widened, her outfit clearly seemed to pique his interest, and you could feel Chris tense up behind you, as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. At this, Claire whispered into your ear with a hint of venom, “That’s Ada, the bassist of Midnight Sun.”

Midnight Sun. That rang a bell. They were one of the more established bands in the scene, though you’d heard rumors about how haughty they could be and that they would stop at nothing to climb their way up.

“Oh, there you are.” A man with slicked-back blonde hair and dark sunglasses sauntered over coolly. If someone had told you that he was an extra from The Matrix, you would’ve believed them in a heartbeat.

The look of disdain was prominent on his face as he glanced over at you and your bandmates. He clucked his tongue derisively. “Tell me, what is it like being the warm up crew?”

Leon was about to lash out, but Chris’ reflexes were faster, holding his shoulder in a vice-like grip. Leon huffed, as he shrugged Chris’ hand off, conceding to remaining cordial for now.

“Wesker, you’re on next!” A stagehand called out from afar.

The man tipped his head in response, before wrapping an arm around Ada’s shoulders, pulling her away from your group as he smirked. “Watch and learn, amateurs.”

“Bunch of douchebags,” Claire muttered as all of you made your way towards the dressing room to freshen up.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Leon peering over his shoulder another time at the lady in red.

━━━━━━━━━━━

“Seriously? That’s what was written?” You groaned, chucking Leon’s phone to the side as both of you lay sprawled out on a picnic mat across a grassy hill which connected to a park. A couple of liquor and beer bottles littered your side. Clearly, this was more of a boozy brunch than an actual brunch at all. You should’ve known better than to trust Leon to prepare something substantial. However, whenever he was around you, it seemed like he would make an effort to control his drinking habits, at least to a point where he was only tipsy but not wasted each time.

Since the last gig, the band had received many other offers to play at various venues and Chris had been eager to accept them all, in the hopes of attracting a talent scout who would spot and sign you to a major label. You’d gone on stage a few more times, with each round bringing you new fans and followers, as well as getting hounded by music journalists. Claire seemed to have a word for everything and this was no exception. She described them as rats, and in particular, a man named Luis Sera proved to be the biggest one of them all.

You remembered his irritating voice which had a slight lilt to it, as he called out for you after one of your shows in the previous month. “Señorita… hey!”

He definitely had a flair for making a spectacle out of everything that he did, and soon you’d discover that he was also a master of exaggeration. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, mi amor.” He bowed his head dramatically, as he took your hand, bringing your knuckles to meet his lips.

In the end, your band had given him half an hour of your time, only for him to grossly alter whatever answers all of you had provided during the interview when the article was published. He had pitted the Stars Rebellion against Midnight Sun, when in your opinion, both bands sounded nothing like each other and he was just doing it to stir up sensationalist shit. In addition to that, he spent most of the article writing about your looks and sex appeal, as opposed to the actual music.

To be fair, that was part of your showmanship, but it seemed like yet another case of sexism in the industry, where other male vocalists weren’t subject to the same fate as you and the handful of frontwomen, who still cut their teeth and pushed forward.

“Great,” you whined, burying your face in your hands. “Now, not only have we become an even bigger rival of Midnight Sun, he’s got people wondering if I can actually sing at all!”

Leon seemed amused by your mini outburst, but was otherwise unruffled by the comments in the article. “That’s what journalists do.” He shrugged. “Create fucking bullshit and drama. What’s new?”

He turned over to face you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it briefly before letting it go. “You’re insanely talented, you know that. Don’t listen to them.”

You smiled at his affirmation. The past months had flown by in a blur, and along with it, your bond with Leon had strengthened. You were the very definition of fast friends, having discovered many similar interests and common topics of conversation between the two of you. Although he still made the occasional off-putting remark, and was a bit of an attention-seeker, especially among the ladies, you enjoyed the time spent with him. It felt like you could be yourself and could talk to each other about anything without judgment.

Judgment. That word aroused conflicting feelings within you. On the one hand, being on stage felt freeing and you could do so many things there that would’ve been considered shameful in any other public situation. It was as though you could ignore the judgment or were immune to it. Yet, when it was time to return to the ‘normal world’, judgment haunted you wherever you went.

“Got a question though.” Leon grinned, and you knew he was coming up with another one of his pesky jokes again. “Can you sing?”

You whacked his chest as he howled with laughter. “Alright, come on, look. We’ll do it together, ok?” He whipped out his phone again, tapping on his music playlist. “I just wanna hear you sing something softer, please?”

Sighing in exasperation, you gave in to his curiosity, clearing your throat as you exposed the falsetto that you’d been hiding all this while in the city you’d run off to for college. Leon joined you on the backing vocals as you flowed through the song together, while you tried to ignore his gaze which lowered at your lips, seemingly entranced by what he was listening to. A blush crept up along your neck as the song ended.

“Didn’t realize you had that side to you,” he muttered in astonishment. “Where did you-”

“Church choir,” you uttered abruptly, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

“Oh.” That seemed to surprise him even more. “Didn’t take you as the religious kind.”

“I’m not.” You swallowed thickly, looking away.

“Your parents-”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” you hissed through gritted teeth, a little harsher than intended.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He cut himself off, before sharing about his background instead. “My parents were kind of shitheads too. Well, mostly my old man.” There was another pause, as he shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Liked the bottle a bit too much.”

“I’m sorry.” You placed your hand over his, as he brushed his thumb over your knuckles.

“Don’t be. The band’s our family now.” He shifted himself up to his elbows, kicking mud off his boots. “Anyway, we don’t have to talk about your folks if you want.”

You softened up at this, realizing that he still had your best interests at heart, though a part of you felt like divulging what you had kept to yourself for so long. “It’s embarrassing,” you began. “Singing like that, kinda reminds me of the past I wanted to leave behind.”

Twiddling your fingers anxiously, you continued. “My parents were very into that whole religious thing. You could say it was almost cult-like,” you laughed nervously. “It wasn’t what I wanted to be, so I got out of it.”

Frowning, you pursed your lips as a vague memory of leaving your hometown amid a heated argument and tears came to mind. “Haven’t spoken to them in years. Probably disowned by them by now.”

“Their loss,” he replied sharply, staring you dead in the eye.

It wasn’t something you had expected to slip out of Leon’s mouth, but he had articulated it so transparently. You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“You could’ve been a great televangelist,” he joked, and you chuckled along with him, finding humor in the otherwise unpleasant subject.

“It’s too bad, isn’t it?” You took a swig of the vodka bottle he offered you, wincing as the smooth liquid burned its way down your throat. “You know, when I’m up there performing, it feels like I can be whoever I want to be.”

“You can be whoever you want with me,” he spoke softly. You tried to search for any disingenuity in his eyes, but found none. “I like you all the same.”

“I like you too,” you professed, only to contort your face in horror a split second later, as you realized the implications of what you had just said. “Uh, I mean, not like that,” you sputtered helplessly. “You know, like-”

He rolled his eyes and snickered. “C’mere.” Tugging at your hand, he pulled you in close, giving you a solid hug.

Gingerly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, inhaling deeply and relaxing in his embrace. Both of you carried a mild scent of alcohol, but you didn’t care. You were just happy to find a like-minded soul who saw you for who you were, as you did with him.

A random thought popped up in your head that you wanted to run by him that instant. It gnawed at your chest, waiting to escape. “Leon?”

“Mm?” You could feel him nuzzling your neck and wondered if he had gone past being tipsy.

“What do you think about writing a softer song? Like something more emotive,” you explained.

He still didn’t let you go. “I think that sounds great,” he murmured into your ear. “We’ll write it together.”

“Just you and me, us against the world,” he added wistfully.

You wondered what had gotten into him, but the idea of working on this creative project together felt right to you. Like a link in the thread of fate that was meant to happen.

“Us against the world,” you repeated, sealing your fate, as you felt his smile against your skin.

━━━━━━━━━━━

On a hot, sunny afternoon, you were grabbing milkshakes with Claire, before heading over to the skatepark, where another friend of hers, Steve, was trying out a couple of new tricks. He had a slender build and spiky red hair, with a punk aesthetic. In other words, the perfect skater boy. You were pretty sure he had a crush on Claire, but she seemed to be either oblivious or ignored it outright. Whenever he landed a cool trick, he’d look over at Claire for approval, only for her to give him a friendly thumbs up.

While you sat by the benches, Claire turned towards you, wiggling her eyebrows as she commented, “You and Leon have been hanging out a lot together lately.”

“Uh huh.” You tried to appear nonchalant about it, as you sipped on your milkshake guardedly.

Truth be told, the increasing amount of time spent with Leon was causing certain inconvenient feelings to grow within you. You lied to yourself, claiming you saw him as nothing more than a friend. Falling for a lovable asshole was out of the question, especially one who might break your heart. Yet, the day where both of you drank in the park, accepting each other in ways you never thought possible, constantly replayed in your mind. Then there was the song you were working on together, the late-night calls, and the pick-me-ups for days when either of you needed support. He would drop everything to help you, and you were there when he sought comfort.

Each time you saw him flirting with one of the female fans or exchanging coy looks with Ada, you died a little inside. He was just a horny 23-year-old guy chasing after anyone with legs - at least, that's what you tried to convince yourself. So, you stayed silent about the whole affair, holding back how you really felt about him, in order to preserve your friendship.

“Anything going on between you two?” Claire asked casually.

What else could you expect from a final-year Communications major? Of course, she would have picked up on how weird you’ve been acting lately.

Still, you continued fighting a losing battle. “We’re just friends,” you asserted, poking absentmindedly at the leftover froth and cream in your drink with the straw.

She wasn’t having it though. “The question is, do you want it to stay that way?” Checkmate. You could almost see her gloating at you as you froze.

You shook your head, sighing defeatedly. “It doesn’t matter, he’s into other girls anyway.”

“Have you told him?” Crap, she got you there again.

You just gave her a noncommittal shrug.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you.” She set her drink down with an air of determination, as if she meant business. “In all my sad years of knowing that loser, he’s never behaved this way with a girl like you. Maybe he just needs a little push to see that.” Folding her arms, she cocked her head to the side. “You should tell him.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You sucked up the rest of your drink until there was nothing more than the bubbly, gurgling sound of air and drops of fluid. With a mischievous twist of your mouth, you added, “By the way, you should probably tell Steve you’re not interested.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When you had finally plucked up the courage to try and tell Leon about your true feelings, things didn’t go exactly as planned. For starters, he had been rather distracted about the upcoming music festival that your band would be participating in and specifically, a promo event that was tied to it. It was all he wanted to talk about, so you couldn’t get a word in.

“It’ll be the perfect opportunity to get noticed,” he pleaded. “You have to go!”

“I’m not- I don’t do very well in these types of social situations,” you argued. “You know that.”

“Excuses,” he huffed dismissively. “It’s gonna be fun, come on.”

“Chris and Claire will be there with you,” you countered again.

Placing his hands on your shoulders, he declared, “No, I want you.”

Although you knew he didn’t mean it any other way, your cheeks flushed as you turned your head away, heart throbbing at the innocuous statement he had just uttered.

“I’ll be there beside you, the whole time,” he promised. “Please, just come along?”

Biting your lip, you weighed your options, even though your emotions had already gotten the better of you, and you had made your decision regardless of what he might say. “You swear?”

“Cross my heart.”

Unfortunately, you wish you had never agreed to him in the first place, because 24 hours later, you were singing an entirely different tune.

Leon had picked you up and headed over to the event with you as arranged. It was held at a swanky members-only club with a lot of pomp, ass-kissing and too much champagne. You felt completely out of place there, but tagged along like a lost puppy behind Leon, who was reveling in the publicity and getting to know who’s who. A number of the other festival bands were there, but you weren’t particularly close to them beyond a courteous ‘Hello’. You fiddled with the cocktail that Leon had got you, praying that the Redfield siblings would show up sometime soon.

At some point, Leon caught your attention, every so often looking over his shoulder for something, or someone. “I, uh, I need to head to the restroom.”

You nodded in puzzlement, wondering why he seemed so shifty all of a sudden.

“Cool, um, I’ll make it quick.” He gave you a sheepish smile and a wink before heading off hurriedly.

He looked even apologetic? You shrugged off that thought, nursing the lone drink in your hands as you thumbed the fabric of your silvery playsuit. After a while, you checked the time on your phone. A good ten minutes had passed, but he hadn’t returned. Weird, did something happen to him?

As you continued waiting, it started to dawn on you how oppressive and suffocating the atmosphere was. It reminded you of the times when you were surrounded by the rest of the community you’d grown up with in church, scrutinizing your every move. Cold sweat formed on your palms as your breathing grew rapid and shallow. A sense of dread developed within you as your vision narrowed.

Oh god, oh god, not here, no… You latched onto the wall for support, trying to apply the tactics you usually used to calm yourself down.

“Hey there!” Claire’s upbeat voice pierced through the downward spiral you had nearly been consumed by. “Where’s Leon?”

“Um, he went to the rest-”

“What the fuck.” Claire’s jaw dropped wide open and when you followed her line of sight, you understood why.

From afar, you spotted Leon and Ada in tow, sneakily heading out of the restrooms. Bold red lipstick was smudged across Leon’s face as he wiped away at it furiously, and his pants remained unzipped, like an afterthought. Ada combed through her ruffled hair with her fingers, adjusting the bottom of her figure-hugging dress. There were no guesses as to what had occurred there. Your mouth ran dry.

“That fucking-” Claire growled. “Ugh, I’m gonna wring his neck!”

“Claire, it’s okay.” You tried to placate her, but your voice was quivering.

She turned towards you, eyeing you sympathetically as she rubbed your back. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “Well, Chris is getting some drinks. Let’s go join him?”

You accepted, making your way towards the refreshments table, still mulling over what you had just seen. As you picked up a glass of sparkling wine, Claire relayed the entire scenario over to Chris, who just shook his head disapprovingly.

A few moments later, Leon had stumbled upon your group. “Where’ve you been? I was looking all over for you!” He barked, visibly frustrated at your disappearance.

Claire scoffed, and without another word, bumped against his shoulder as she brushed past him. Chris followed suit, without the bumping, though he made a face at Leon as he chugged down his beer. They expected you to come along, but you hung back, giving Leon one more chance to redeem himself.

“What’s up with those two?” he muttered in annoyance.

You held his gaze impassively. “What took you so long?”

“Is this a trick question or what?” He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he tried to evade your quizzing.

But you didn’t let up, not budging from your place until you had an answer.

He threw his hands up in exasperation. “There was a queue, okay?”

A rush of disappointment and heartache surged through you. The least he could’ve done was to be honest with you, but he hadn’t even managed that. He was lying directly to your face, which currently felt as if it had been given a tight slap in humiliation. With whatever dignity you had left, you excused yourself from the table, heading over to the Redfield siblings, as Leon looked on in incredulity and disbelief.

You spent the rest of the evening with Chris and Claire, who were mostly interested in the free food and drink, and knew a couple of the chiller, more down-to-earth musicians on a personal level. In an unexpected turnaround of events, you were actually having fun chatting with people who appeared to be on the same wavelength as you and making wisecracks about corporate functions like these.

In fact, it served as a fairly effective distraction from the boy you were pretending didn’t exist. He lurked around like a shadow, leaning against the walls in the corridors and the sides of the rooms. You saw him everywhere, hovering just within reach. Scowling moodily at you and your newfound friends, he tossed back a never ending supply of alcoholic drinks. You suspected he was on the verge of getting sloshed by now, and although a part of you was concerned about his well-being, you didn’t want to play the role of a babysitter, at least not for tonight.

Towards the end of the night, Chris and Claire had decided to take their leave and you would too, after getting some fresh air by the pool. However, this proved to be a mistake, as the minute you were left alone, you heard heavy footsteps shuffling up next to you. You felt a pit in your stomach, knowing well who it was before even facing the culprit.

“What did I do wrong?” Leon was slurring his words, and his eyes were glassy and bloodshot. The stench of alcohol on him was overwhelming.

Wrinkling your nose, you backed away, stating plainly, “You’re drunk, just take a cab home.”

“Don’t-” He grabbed your arm, attempting to steady himself. “Don’t walk away from me.”

“Leon,” you warned.

“What happened to us against the world, huh?” he retorted.

“Did you think about that when you ditched me to fuck around?” The accusation tumbled out of your mouth before you had a chance to rein it in.

His grip on you loosened, as guilt flashed across his eyes. “That- I, it wasn’t-”

“You’ve always been a bit of an asshole,” you interjected. “But a loveable one, who was also sweet and kind.” Tears started to collect at the corners of your eyes. “Now, you’re just completely horrible,” you spat, with a look of disgust plastered across your face.

Leon’s face contorted in anguish as he tightened his hold on your arm again. “Don’t say that.”

“I don’t like you like this,” you admitted, trying to break free from his grasp, as tears started to roll down your cheeks.

He tried to reach out with his other hand and caress your face, but you pushed it away. “Let go,” you demanded.

However, it seemed as if he couldn’t comprehend why you wanted to be as far away from him as possible. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “Can’t we just sort this-”

Then, something in you snapped. All the times when you had finally had enough and set your boundaries in the past, burning bridges along the way, came to a head. “No!” you yelled, shoving him off you, as he fell backwards and landed into the pool with a loud splash.

Some of the spectators laughed and jeered, as he floundered around mostly in shock, while you stormed off the site.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next band practice session was awkward to say the least. You were running a few minutes late and when you’d reached, you could hear the shouting from outside the door to the studio.

“... sleeping with the enemy!”

“How is Ada an enemy?”

“You’re always messing things up for us!”

“Okay, break it up you two.”

Expelling a hefty sigh, you swung the door open, and the room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. You could feel their gaze on you as you placed your bag in the corner before getting to your usual position behind the mic, making sure to avoid any eye contact with Leon. The festival was coming up in the next month, and on top of that, you still had a smaller gig to play in between then. The last thing you wanted was for personal issues to get in the way of professionalism, so you buried your emotions deep within the abyss.

“Hey, um, you, uh-” Leon croaked out, trying to get your attention, but you ignored him, turning instead towards Claire.

“Sorry I’m late, shall we get started?”

Despite regarding you with a look of concern, she obliged and Chris counted off before all of you jammed to the opening song.

It continued on like this, where you gave Leon the cold shoulder. You had stopped hanging out with him and only communicated when necessary. He didn’t realize how much he would miss your company until it was gone. Things felt duller and emptier without you. Whenever he wanted to share his joys, sorrows and just the mundane things that were happening in his life, he’d try to call you, only for it to go unanswered. He left you countless voice messages, each more desperate than the last one, ranging from a mixture of hurt, blame and grief. It had only been a little over two weeks, but he was starved and alone, without the person he could truly count on. The song you had been working on together remained unfinished.

During the smaller gig you were playing at, you rocked out with Chris and Claire near the back, instead of vibing with Leon at the front. Maybe you were being petty with the way you were treating Leon, but he hadn’t given you a proper apology since the incident. The chemistry and connection between the two of you on stage was lost. Nonetheless, you gave the performance your all, and the fans went wild, so much so that when you crowd surfed, you ended up with shredded leggings and a bloody mouth. A random fan tried to grope you, but security intervened and you were dragged back up on stage by Leon, whose eyes were clouded with worry and apprehension. However, the adrenaline numbed the pain and you finished the gig on a high note, leaving the crowd buzzing with exhilaration and the sound of thunderous applause. It was a confidence booster and a great way to warm up for the festival gig.

Backstage, Claire helped you with cleaning the cut on your lip, as you reassured her that you were fine and such injuries were inevitable when you threw yourself headfirst into the crowd. She made you promise not to pull that stunt again, at least for the foreseeable future, before leaving you to finish up.

Just as you were heading out to regroup, an older, bearded man with neatly styled, graying hair and donning a snazzy waistcoat approached you.

“Brian Irons.”

He held out a sleek, matte finish card with a crisp white background, his name in bold, black font in the center. Below, in smaller, elegant sans-serif type, were the record label he managed and his contact details. A thin, silver border surrounded the edges of the card adding a touch of sophistication. You took it from him, rapt by the design.

“Shall we speak somewhere in private?” he offered, beckoning towards one of the empty dressing rooms towards the end of the hallway.

In your elation and unwillingness to turn down such a timely opportunity, you jumped the gun, accepting his request immediately without waiting for your bandmates. Instead, you messaged them the details and informed them you would join them soon after.

“Amazing show,” he complimented. “You really are quite stunning.”

“Thanks, um, Mr. Irons.” You shifted your weight between both feet nervously, unsure of how to respond. Something in the way he looked at you made you seem like a prey caught in a bear’s trap and his words felt loaded.

“For you, it’s Brian, honey.” His lecherous tone sent shivers down your spine.

“Brian,” you echoed, slowly backing away to put some distance between you and the man.

“So, you kids wanna get signed, huh? Stars Rebellion, wasn’t it?” He advanced towards you with deliberate, measured steps, as if he were playing with his food at the dinner table.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, regretting the decision you had made earlier and the direction this conversation seemed to be steering in.

“Well, I can certainly help with that…”

Your back was flat against the wall now, as he sidled up to you, eliminating any space between you as he caged you in with his body. His breath felt hot and heavy against your cheek, and reeked of coffee and cigarettes. As his hand rode up your thigh, you closed your eyes, holding your breath as a nauseating wave crashed over you and you tried not to puke.

“The fuck’s going on here?” A sharp, biting voice sliced through the air like a knife.

Brian pulled away and you saw Leon by the doorway of the dressing room seething with fury and a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Hey, easy there, kid. Just getting acquainted, that’s all.” Brian tried to laugh it off as a joke, but Leon wasn’t having any of it.

“Get away from her,” he ordered, his steely demeanor unrelenting. “Now.”

Brian backed off, but came up to Leon threateningly. “Talking back to me like that?” he sneered. “I’ll make sure you’re ruined, punk.”

Leon took a step closer, issuing an unspoken challenge. “Yeah? Go ahead, sue me.”

At this, Brian cocked his fist back before taking a swing at Leon. Leon ducked to avoid the blow, shoving him aside as he unleashed a quick jab which connected with Brian’s nose. Brian fell to the ground, whimpering in pain while covering his face with both hands. Blood trickled down, staining his shirt as he cowered before Leon.

“Touch her again and I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Leon hollered. “You hear me?”

Brian nodded furiously as Leon walked briskly across the room, wrapping his arm around your shoulder before leading you out with him. Once you were at a safe distance, he cupped your face in his palms, examining you for any further signs of injuries.

“You okay? Did he hurt you?”

You didn’t respond, instead you clung to him in a tight embrace as your body trembled uncontrollably. He held you against his chest, resting his chin on your head as he stroked your hair soothingly. Both of you stayed there for a while, locked in each other's arms, until he suggested, “Let’s get you home.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When Leon had informed Chris and Claire about the events that had transpired, they vowed to keep a closer watch on you and each other. There was now an agreement that if the whole band could not be present at a meeting, then at least two people at the minimum should be there.

Your band had upped the intensity of the practice sessions, as the date of the festival loomed nearer. However, when Jill spontaneously announced that she was organizing a house party at her place, all of you jumped at the invitation, seeing it as a way to let off some steam.

At the moment, you and Leon were in this weird, intermediary state of being not quite friends, yet not quite on opposing ends either. It seemed as if it was eating away at him inside, since the minute he saw you at Jill’s place, he weaved through the throng of familiar faces and approached you, asking if you were ready to talk about the elephant in the room. It wasn’t possible to keep ignoring him forever and you were tired of all the arguments and drama that had occurred lately. So, you decided to let him into your life again, or maybe just a foot in the door for now.

In one of the quieter rooms of the house, you sat beside Leon as he initiated an apology for the first time for his prior actions. “I know it’s not enough, but I’m sorry, I really am.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “I was a complete dick-”

“Yeah, you were,” you replied testily. “I panicked, when you, um, took your time.”

“What? Shit.” He looked down at his hands in shame, balling them into fists. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want that to happen to you.”

Clenching his jaw, you saw him drown in a sense of self-loathing. “God, I keep fucking things up. Please-” He took your hands in his, squeezing them as if he were proposing. “I’ll make it up to you, just give me another chance to prove it.”

“I missed you,” he whispered. “A lot.” It was as if a dam had broken, and he couldn't stop himself from pouring out all his admissions. “You weren’t talking to me, you weren’t returning my calls…”

“Whenever something stupid came up, all I could think about was how much I wanted to tell you about it.” His eyes glazed over, as if he were recalling a distant memory. “Guess I kinda took you for granted.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you made yet another decision against your better judgment. Although you had no guarantee that he would not repeat the same mistake, you placed your trust in him again, hoping that this time he would treat you as you deserved.

“Okay.” You nodded, offering a weak smile. “We’ll try again.”

You yelped as he suddenly gathered you into a snug embrace, grinning widely from ear to ear. “I got you back,” he murmured into your ear.

“Don’t make me regret it,” you teased half-jokingly.

“Guys, get your free shit! Oh-”

You and Leon quickly disentangled yourselves from each other as you saw Jill staring with her mouth hanging open. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No!” Both of you exclaimed in unison.

Jill rolled her eyes, her face etched with doubt, though she didn’t probe further. “Anyway, downstairs! First come, first served.” She jerked her thumb in the direction behind her, before trudging off to the next room.

“You wanna?” Leon gave you a knowing smile.

“Hell, sure, why not?” You shrugged, once again erupting in laughter with the boy you wanted to cuddle with and strangle at the same time.

So, that was how both of you ended up lying next to each other, strung out on a mattress facing the window. You knew the drill. Jill’s housemates were creative types whose generosity knew no bounds. House parties with them involved usually meant a certain supply of free drugs, which people could choose to engage in recreationally. You figured you were being very rock’n’roll by doing it, but sometimes you enjoyed how open they made you feel, like you could loosen up and forget about the things bothering you.

As usual, you and Leon had taken the same pills as before, both of you agreeing to take care of each other throughout the duration of the high. He held your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, as you giggled over a topic you had been discussing.

“Ready to watch the curtain breathing contest?” he chuckled.

“There.” You pointed in front of you, indicating that the shades were now moving on their own, like ripples in the tide.

“Atta girl.”

It felt nice like this, laying beside him. You could talk to him about anything in the world and he’d listen intently to you. That’s when you thought it was a good idea to make your confession.

“I’ve liked you for a while now,” you gulped, your heart constricting though the urge to reveal your secret was stronger. “As in, more than a friend.”

He angled his head towards you, gazing at your expression with an affectionate smile. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Leon Scott Kennedy, asking me why-?” you snorted, clamping your free hand over your mouth as you struggled to hold in your cackles. As if he wasn’t aware he had a reputation for sleeping around with no strings attached. “I didn’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost.”

He tutted and sighed. “You wouldn’t have been. It’s different… with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re one of the few people who’d tell me exactly as it is, you care to listen,” he explained. “It just feels right, being with you, and… I trust you.”

You were reluctant to take what he had said at face value, after all both of you were tripping. As if sensing your hesitance, he professed, “I like you too, a lot.”

Still, a part of you denied it. “You’re just saying that.”

He groaned in vexation. “Am not.”

“Are too.”

Narrowing his eyes at you, he huffed in defeat, “Look, ask me again tomorrow when we’re sober, okay? Pretty sure I’ll say the exact same thing.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “You better not try anything right now though, ’cause I bite.” Baring your teeth, you snarled at him playfully.

“Uh huh.” He burst out laughing. “You’re kinda high off your face, aren’t you?”

“Just a little.” You winked.

“Alright, let’s try to get some sleep,” he grunted, shifting to his side as he extended his arms towards you like an invitation. “No funny business,” he promised.

You relented, nestling yourself into his arms with your back against his chest. He dipped his nose into your hair, breathing in the peace of the moment. Closing your eyes, you drifted off to sleep, your bodies spooned together in perfect symmetry.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The first rays of the morning light filtered in through the curtains, as you awoke to the collective chirps of the dawn chorus. You squinted, pressing a palm over your eyes to shield yourself from the sun, as you stretched yourself out against Leon’s sleeping body and yawned groggily. He stirred a bit from your movement, but easily fell back into slumber, snoring deeply. You remembered everything you had disclosed to him the night before and it scared you. What if he didn’t feel the same way when he woke up? What if it had all been a mistake? How would you be able to look him in the eye now? You felt anxiety rising in your chest.

Stealthily, you lifted his arm off you, creeping out of the bed and making your escape before you had to face the consequences of your actions. Grabbing your stuff, you snuck out of the room, tiptoeing so no one noticed you exiting the front door of the house.

It was about an hour later when Leon woke up, confused to find you missing from the mattress with him. Though in your rush, you had accidentally left behind your notebook, which you carried around with you everywhere to jot down inspiration for song lyrics. Picking up the chestnut brown, leatherbound journal, curiosity got the better of him as he flipped it open to the page you had bookmarked.

As he skimmed across the words you had scribbled down in your off-beat, cursive handwriting, he gradually realized that they were the draft lyrics to the song you had been previously working on together with him, before the temporary break in your friendship. He re-read the text again to catch the meaning between the lines. It was then that it struck him, you had essentially composed a love letter from within, expressing the depth of your feelings and yearning for him. It made his heart ache that you had been keeping this from him the whole time and he had been blind to it all.

Tapping your name on his mobile screen, he called you right away, but it went straight to voicemail. Fuck. What were you afraid of? He thought he had been clear in how he felt about you last night, but it seemed like you had gone into hiding again.

Showing up at your place directly after this may cause you to retreat even further, but he was determined to win you over somehow. A plan began to hatch in his mind, as he drove home with your book in the passenger seat. Despite his exhaustion from the party, he set out to work on the music for the lyrics you had written, spending the rest of the day and even pulling an all-nighter to finish it.

After about a dozen energy drinks and cups of coffee, he marched up unannounced to the door of your dormitory, where you shared a room with another final-year student from your class, rapping on it several times for good measure. Your roommate opened the door, but her expression gave everything away before she had the chance to concoct any sort of tall tale. She could never really keep a poker face.

Placing his arm against the door to prevent it from closing on him, he called out your name. You appeared in his view then timidly, mumbling to your roommate that you would handle it. She packed up a few things and left, giving you and Leon some privacy.

“Your book.” He passed it over to you, before setting his guitar case down by your bed. “Open it.”

You glanced briefly at him in mild bewilderment, but did as he asked. It flopped open to a page with a deep crease in the center, naturally showing how frequently that section had been revisited. You gasped when you saw a bunch of chord notes written below the lyrics you had penned down from earlier. Your complexion turned a light shade of scarlet upon realizing that Leon had discovered your innermost thoughts, but there was no awkwardness in his behavior towards you, he was calm and collected.

Unzipping the case, he took out his acoustic guitar and perched himself on the edge of your bed. Resting the instrument on his thigh, he grasped its neck, tilting it slightly as he strummed a couple of opening chords.

“I pieced together the melody for this. Maybe you can join in when you’re comfortable,” he suggested.

It seemed he had memorized the entire song by heart, as he didn’t need your notebook for guidance. His mellow, honeyed voice cascaded through the room as he serenaded you with the song both of you had crafted, albeit separately. Now, you were coming together to bring it to life.

Seating yourself next to him, you harmonized with his vocals, pouring the entirety of your emotions and every moment of longing you had built up within you into the music, until the final note trailed off. Throughout it all, Leon had observed you closely, captivated by the raw, unfiltered quality of your voice and the vulnerability you displayed in your delivery of the lyrics.

His gaze lowered from your eyes to your mouth, as he leaned in, brushing his lips gently against yours, kissing you tenderly. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he caressed it, coaxing soft sighs and moans which he returned as you reciprocated the kiss. Panting as he came up for air, he traced your bottom lip with his thumb, feeling every dip and groove, as if mesmerized by its outline and shape. He didn’t need to utter a single word for you to understand that his feelings for you mirrored those you had confessed in the song.

Closing the distance, he pressed into your lips again, this time more fervently, as the kisses grew in intensity. His nose nudged against yours and you felt his warm breath tickling your skin, as he grasped the back of your neck, taking you deeper, breathing every essence of you in. Clutching his shoulders, you parted your lips slightly as he licked along the entrance, allowing his tongue to meet yours, twirling around it as saliva coated your lips, forming a glistening string between the two of you when you pulled away.

Grazing his knuckles delicately across your cheek, he asked, “Do you believe me now?”

You smiled, claiming his lips with your own in response.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next time you performed the song live was at the festival, where thousands had gathered to watch the impressive lineup of bands. Chris and Claire had fallen in love with it when you and Leon had showed it to them, and were keen to expand the band’s range into something that delved into the territory of rock ballads.

All four of you wondered how it would be received by the audience, as it was rather different from the punk rock style your band was known for. Even so, you were psyched to finally showcase it to the public.

It was the song you ended with on your setlist, and the one which created such a poignant, special atmosphere, that it became a memory you would treasure forever. The hall fell into hushed anticipation as Leon plucked his guitar strings under the soft glow of the stage lights. Each note resonated deeply, minimalistic and stripped back, which added to the earnesty of the music.

Your voice opened the duet, intimate and haunting, as the melody unfolded like a story being told, rich with longing and a melancholic beauty that ached. The audience stood there entranced, as a soulful rhythm built up with the entry of the bass guitar and drums, adding another layer to the sound.

Leon moved towards you, sharing your mic as he sang his part, cementing a bond between you. Locking eyes with you, he pressed his forehead against yours, mingling sweat and tears as you both continued singing into the same mic, your heartfelt lyrics heavy with emotion. Some of the older people in the crowd sparked their lighters, while the younger ones whipped out their mobile phones, swaying them in time to the music, until everything was awash in a sea of flickering lights.

Your lips and Leon’s were barely touching as the last notes lingered in the air. His faint breath fanned across your mouth, as he swept his fingertips along your jawline, resting them under your chin. The space was thick with palpable tension, and your stomach fluttered just as it had the first time he had kissed you. Like a magnetic pull which he could not resist, he placed his lips over yours, kissing you again and again. It was as if the world had paused, just for the two of you.

Singing this way no longer reminded you of punishment and shame, but rather of the connection you and Leon had. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he led you off-stage, past the phenomenal reaction of the crowd and the fist bumps shared between Chris and Claire.

Ada came around not only to congratulate him, but also to test the waters and seize the opportunity to flirt. Despite that, he held onto you tightly, maintaining a suitable distance from the woman he had previously been infatuated with, yet feeling nothing deeper compared to what he felt for you. It took him more than half a year, an explosive fallout and a few weeks of your absence to realize that. She smirked and shook her head, walking away as Wesker continued to ignore you.

Some things never change, yet some things had.

“How about some time alone?” he proposed. “Just us.”

Us. It was always meant to be about us.

You nuzzled your nose gently with his. “Yeah, just us.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy angst #band au #resident evil #fic: us #porcelainscribbles

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