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theflyingfeeling · 1 month ago

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hello if you thought that this stupid band going on a stupid devastating world-crushing well-deserved hiatus would stop me from writing the terrible tragic miserable galaxy-brain Olli/Allu infidelity AU... lol think again <3

this one is sort of an independent sequel to this ficlet and takes place after The Decision™ 🖤

When Aleksi got back from the Hilltop Forest cottage, the first thing he did was get out his drum set.

It was dusty from having been untouched for months (or for years? Aleksi wasn’t sure anymore) and he suffered through multiple coughing fits while assembling it, but at last everything was in place. He spent another moment giving the cymbals a final polishing, a hint of a grin on his lips as he imagined Tommi’s voice scolding him for handling them so carelessly, then he sat on the stool that squeaked from the first touch since– yes, Aleksi still couldn’t remember since when exactly. Come to think of it, now that he was seated, alone in his studio, he tried and failed recalling the last time he had had time to just sit.

So he sat. He sat, until voices started echoing in his head. They were the voices of his bandmates, of their management team from Century Media. Of Joonas crying silently in the woodshed. Of her saying hi and how was the meeting before Aleksi had rushed to the studio to avoid having to say out loud what they had agreed on at the cottage.

Of Olli’s whisper by his ear, ordering him to stay quiet.

When the voices got too loud, he started playing.

And once he had started, he played for an entire week.

He played, until the bang of the drums muted all these voices. He played to mute the suffocating silence behind all that noise. He played until it became almost too dark to see in the studio, with the curtains drawn and the midnight sun covered by a thick veil of clouds, so he lit one of his scented candles and resumed playing. He played and played and played, from breakfast until sunset, skipping dinners and ignoring text messages from upstairs, asking him to please come to bed already, and when he stopped at last, when he could no longer hear a single thought swirling in his head, he was left in silence, his hands aching and trembling, his breathing coming in short puffs.

Something wet was spread on his cheeks. Sweat, he decided, and dried them off with the back of his palm.

Then he set the drumsticks aside, took out his phone and texted Olli.

I miss you already.

The second he had sent it, he wanted to unsend it, because fuck if it didn’t sound ridiculous and desperate – both of which he was, of course, but he didn’t need Olli to know that.

(As if Olli didn’t already, from the way Aleksi had begged for him to let him cum the last time they had been together.)

It was too late, though, because the second after the regret had hit him, the message was marked ‘seen’. Aleksi couldn’t pretend to be surprised, because that’s what he had gotten used to when texting with Olli. Sometimes he felt as if Olli was already typing his reply or calling him when Aleksi had barely lifted his thumb off the ‘send’ button. That was why it felt odd to see Olli was viewing his message but not writing back to him or to not feel the phone in his hand vibrate from an incoming call.

No matter how hard he stared at the screen, there seemed to be no reaction from Olli. It was such a strange feeling, one that scared him to the depths of his soul.

Is this what it’s going to be like from then on? Him in Oulu living his idyllic northern life in his idyllic northern home with her, and me down here in my desolate studio, missing him so much that I want to scream and rip my hair off?

Suddenly it was getting too loud again in Aleksi’s head, so he grabbed the drumsticks and was all but ready to bang his longing away, right until he’d feel numb, and not just in his hands. He never got around to it, though; if he had started playing a second earlier, he wouldn’t have heard the quiet knock on the door interrupting his intentions.

Which was an odd thing to hear in the first place, because no one ever knocked on his door.

Joel never knocked, because he always just sent Aleksi a text informing him he had arrived and Aleksi would find him standing awkwardly behind his studio door. Niko never knocked, as he just stormed right in the studio to play Aleksi his new song ideas, not noticing (or caring) what he was interrupting, even if it was Aleksi about to slide his hand down his pants in a delusional daydream about a mutual friend of theirs. Joonas never knocked either; Aleksi usually learnt of his arrival from upstairs where he’d be playing with Rilla before coming down to greet Aleksi.

She never knocked, because she never came to the studio. It was the one place that was his, only his in the house, from the walls he had painted himself, to the wobbly Ikea shelves he had assembled alone at two in the morning with a great deal of swearing and maybe even tears – although he wouldn’t admit it – to the shabby couch he had gotten from his mother when she had moved houses, to the polaroids that kept him company by his computer when he worked and which could have him travel back in time and space in the blink of an eye, to memories he would be treasuring until the very end of everything.

(All of them had Olli as the main character.)

And, well, Rilla never knocked, because she was just a little dog with no hands, so Aleksi was baffled as to who would be behind his studio door, at almost midnight on a Tuesday. During the four steps it took him to reach the door, Aleksi’s guesses on who he’d reveal when opening it ranged from an annoyed neighbour complaining about the noise, to the studio ghost his Twitch viewers kept joking about, asking to be let back in after having sneaked out when Aleksi had gone upstairs for some coffee, and somehow all of that seemed to make much more sense than what he did find behind the door.

He had not expected to find a familiar mop of curls and a pair of sad, grey eyes staring straight into his.

“Hey,” Olli said.

“Huh,” Aleksi replied, which was an accurate expression of how he was feeling.

“I’m just… here are your shorts.” Olli was handing him a bundle of black fabric.

“Huh,” Aleksi repeated, still bewildered about the latest turn of events. He looked at the alleged shorts in Olli’s hand, then at Olli, and again at the shorts. “You… did you come from Oulu just to give me these?”

“Uhhh. Yeah.” Olli looked almost embarrassed now, his gaze having fallen to the garment he was holding, his chin lowered closer to his chest.

“But… We’re gonna see each other next week. You could have given them to me at Provinssi.”

As if there was something in Olli’s eye, he blinked rapidly while reaching towards Aleksi until he took the shorts from Olli’s hand.

“I thought you’d maybe need them before that. They’ve promised a heatwave after midsummer.”

Aleksi felt the worn fabric. It smelled different, of an unfamiliar conditioner. He wanted the garment out of his hands, but he didn’t want to seem rude; Olli had travelled all this way, seemingly to just give Aleksi back his stupid shorts, the ones he had seen Olli pack in his backpack (by accident or on purpose, Aleksi could only guess) the morning after they had made love for the last time and had said nothing of it (out of courtesy or on some twisted, selfish whim of his mind, Aleksi wasn’t sure).

“Well. Thanks,” he said, and tried his best to sound grateful. Perhaps, if Olli had stolen a piece of his heart and taken it to Oulu with him, it was only fair that he at least returned his shorts.

“Well,” Olli’s eyes wandered somewhere past Aleksi, now that he no longer had anything his hands to fix his eyes on, “guess I’ll get back, then.”

“No,” Aleksi heard himself say, way before his useless brain could follow. “Don’t go.”

Aleksi searched for Olli’s gaze, but when he finally found it, he regretted it immediately, for Olli’s eyes had welled with tears and his bottom lip was quivering.

“Don’t go,” Aleksi echoed himself. By then he was prepared to repeat it over and over, would have gotten on his knees if that was what it would have taken to make Olli stay, now that he was there in front of him again, for him to touch and hold if Olli only would let him.

Like he had, so many times before.

Even though he maybe shouldn’t have, for both their sake.

(Aleksi was terrified he might not, ever again.)

Olli stepped inside, the tips of their shoes touching. The sorrow in Olli’s eyes was going to drown Aleksi if he kept staring into it for too long, yet he couldn’t force himself to look anywhere else except into the depths of grey and blue.

How could he ever? Whenever he looked into Olli’s eyes, he felt loved like he had never before. He felt safe, even when the world around him was changing and scared him to the bone.

“I miss you already too,” Olli whispered. His voice was just as full of melancholy as his eyes. “Every day. Every second.”

That was the reply Aleksi had been left hanging without just a moment earlier. That was the reassurance Aleksi needed to toss the shorts in his hands aside and pull Olli in, their hips and chests and lips crashing together.

The heaviness inside Aleksi, the one he had tried to suffocate, gave room to hunger and yearning, to lust and urgency as they stumbled towards the couch, tangled in each other like vines. Olli let out small, soft whines with every kiss, as if he was in pain, and perhaps he was, although Aleksi hoped it was the kind of pain he himself was experiencing: pain of not having Olli close enough even though he was right there, in his arms, skin on bare skin once their shirts had flown off; pain of wanting someone you could not have, or rather, someone you did have but could not keep.

He could never keep Olli, not the way he wanted to, not for as long as he needed to. Keeping him forever was out of question, and it was naive to even wish for it, but would even that have been enough? Keeping him for one more night was nothing like forever, but it was more than never at all, was it not?

Maybe one more night was their forever.

Olli’s face was sombre, with his eyebrows straight lines and his lips only just parted, when Aleksi took off the rest of his clothes, never taking his eyes off Olli who lay on his back. Their eye contact was broken when Aleksi touched his lips on Olli’s exposed stomach and Olli closed his eyes, sighing out loud his satisfaction. The sighs grew louder the closer Aleksi got to Olli’s cock, so that when he finally took it in between his lips, Olli was full-on moaning – dangerously loud, but Aleksi had no intention to silence him. Olli moaning out of pleasure was the most beautiful sound Aleksi had ever heard, and if he was the cause of it, he would always do his everything to keep Olli going.

Olli was perfect under his touch. Olli was perfect inside his mouth. Olli was perfect in all the ways Aleksi could imagine; so perfect and gorgeous and sexy that Aleksi could have come just from sucking him off, just from making Olli feel good, which he had had done, in fact, many times before, but tonight he was feeling a little more selfish. He could have rubbed himself off against the couch cushions while having Olli flood his mouth with his hot cum, but the heaviness that threatened to return to his chest had other ideas.

He expected Olli to object when he gave the tip of Olli’s erection one last kiss before sitting up, but the man only looked up at him in silence with hooded, darkened eyes. Without a word exchanged, Olli spread his thighs as Aleksi positioned himself in between them and guided his own throbbing cock to Olli’s rim. Then Aleksi glanced at Olli, to wordlessly ask if he needed preparation, but instead of nodding or showing any hesitation, Olli took Aleksi by the back of his head and brought him in for another kiss.

They kissed until Aleksi slid inside Olli, as slowly as he could so as to not hurt him without driving himself crazy with want. They kissed until the throbbing of Aleksi’s cock became unbearable and Olli urged him to do something about it with a roll of his hips, because of course Olli noticed when Aleksi was losing it. They kissed until Aleksi began moving, in and out of Olli, tears rising into both their eyes with every deep thrust. They kissed until Aleksi was fully fucking into Olli, no longer able to hold himself back. They kissed and kissed and kissed, soft and rough at the same time, loving and furious, blissful and heartbroken, until Aleksi felt Olli tighten around him and cry into his mouth, until Aleksi filled Olli with his seed and kept on rocking his hips until he was spent, until there was nothing left of him except what there’d always be left of him, even when he was too exhausted or fucked up to feel anything else:

his love for Olli. His bottomless, hopeless, good-for-nothing love for Olli, which he would soon have nowhere to put, nowhere to waste on, nowhere to keep it safe until–

Until what? Until the stars would align and everything keeping them apart from each other would magically disappear with the northern wind? Until Olli would abandon his perfect life in Oulu and run back to him?

It was foolish, Aleksi knew, but it was his only hope. It was all he had left.

Besides, is that not exactly what Olli had done tonight? Perhaps it wasn’t as foolish after all, Aleksi thought as they lay naked on his studio couch. There was still no room for words, despite Aleksi’s insufferable need to tell Olli how much he needed him and how much he was going to miss him, even if Olli wasn’t exactly going anywhere from his life. He wasn’t going anywhere, except for his home in Oulu, but somehow, suddenly, Oulu seemed farther than it had ever been.

And Aleksi was scared it would only move farther away in time.

Slowly, drifting them apart.

There was no room for words, but there were two that Aleksi still couldn’t keep inside his mouth.

“Don’t go.”

Olli traced Aleksi’s arm with his fingertips. Aleksi wondered how long it would take for them to touch a bass again after Christmas.

Or him, after this night.

Still, Aleksi found great comfort in the touch and buried his head against Olli’s neck. The kiss he then felt on his forehead would have been enough of an answer already, but he didn’t mind hearing Olli’s words either.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

#blind channel rpf #blind channel fanfiction #ollixallu #random tumblr ficlets by theflyingfeeling #wrote this yesterday because i needed to. because writing helps #if you read it i hope it helps you too (even if it's sorta sad) <3 #i'm sorry but i just enjoy writing this stuff way too much lol #but yeah i say i needed to write this rn but this time i'm ACTUALLY going to try and write something less sad next!#i already have an idea and there's no way you can predict what it is sgshfhfhdjdjdf (iykyk)#sending my love to all of you btw!!#and especially to all of those who have been with me for these past few days. you know who you are and i love you all so much💖#probably still going to be avoiding tumblr for a little while and... idk watch hilda furacão and listen to NHL podcasts sdgshshssdg #but i'll be checking my notes and dms 🫶

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