Work Text:
Devon had been floating high, the sounds of his father's music spinning through his head and flowing into beats so perfect that he just had to get them recorded somehow. For him, there was only one way to record his music, and that was in the practice room, but when he snuck into the band room, his mood dropped almost as low as it had been high. Sean, of all people, was in there, using the very machine that he wanted to use.
Devon hated the fact that he couldn't really despise Sean. Yes, the upperclassman had ratted him out to Dr Lee and showed everyone that he couldn't read music, and yes, he treated Devon like a P-4 instead of a P-1, but Devon couldn't elevate his anger to the point of actual hate. Sean was a great drummer, and he also wrote some really great music for the line. He would never tell the older boy, but Devon would even call him a good leader, at least where the rest of the line was concerned.
Not that Devon could actually tell Sean anything; whenever they got within speaking distance of each other, nothing but arrogance and anger came out of either of them. If they could speak civilly, Devon might almost say that he respected Sean, but he couldn't fully bring himself to respect someone who had no respect for him.
So somehow their inability to speak without mouthing off leads Devon to where he is now; battling it out with Sean on the practice drums. Thoughts are flying through his mind faster than his mouth and sticks can give them outlet, and Devon isn't even conscious of what beats he's stringing together. All he knows is that he can't lose this battle. He can't lose to Sean.
As the music streams out of them, it fills the empty practice room, echoing slightly off the walls and swirling around the chairs. And then they both stop, sticks inches away from the other, eyes locked.
They're panting and sweating and an image suddenly flashes through his mind. Devon almost falters as he envisions himself throwing his sticks aside, lunging across the space between them, and kissing Sean. Though he tries to banish the thoughts as soon as they come, Devon knows that something must have changed in his expression, because Sean looks away.
Devon wants to stop there, to end the battle and try to make Sean meet his gaze again, but his voice and ego overrule his heart. "WHAT! Yeah, I'm the man!" he shouts, and starts playing again, letting the sharp cadence express his shock and frustration.
Sean sighs and steps back. "Yeah, you the man."
The confused inner part of Devon can't believe that Sean is agreeing with him, and knows that there has to be a catch somewhere, but he keeps playing and yells. "That's what I'm talkin' about!"
Sean's face is blank, but his eyes are swirling with emotions that Devon can't quite identify. "So go and be the man. Without the line."
Devon feels the words like a sucker punch; he stops playing and stares uncomprehendingly at Sean, trembling with emotion. Without the line? All he'd ever wanted was to be in the line. All he ever wanted was to play the drums for the crowds and show the world how good he could be. He wanted to do something with his music; something amazing.
Without the line.
And a second, horrible, thought hits him. Without the line means without Sean. As much as the older boy's attitude pisses him off, Devon can't shake the image of them kissing. He doesn't want to give up what he has with Sean, as screwed up as it is, and he hopes desperately that Sean doesn't really want to give it up either.
Sean continues. "You the best, Devon. But when you're on the field nobody hears you. They hear the band. One band."
One band, one sound. The words ring in his head automatically, a testament to Dr Lee's teaching. Was being part of an amazing band the same thing as being amazing on his own? Can he show the world how amazing he is if he is part of a line? Devon knows he has to think about that, but right now he can't look away from Sean, any more than he can wipe away the hurt look he knows is in his eyes.
The printer activates, and they are both given the opportunity to glance away. Devon can't entirely stop the relieved sigh from escaping his lips, though he does his best. Sean walks over to the printer and picks up the music.
Devon's music.
/O\*/O\
The next two weeks pass by faster than Devon expects; between his classes, extra music reading sessions with Sean, occasionally seeing Leila across the quad, tweaking the cadences with the line, and practicing both his drum and his sheet reading. Eventually, he and Sean agree that the cadences are as good as they will ever get, and Devon follows Sean into Dr Lee's office. They hand over the sheet music - music that Devon can almost entirely read - and wait for his judgment.
While Dr Lee looks over their music, Sean speaks up. "Now, the concept is all Devon's."
As close as they have grown in the last two weeks, Devon is still surprised that Sean volunteers such praise for him, especially to Dr Lee. Without a second thought, he adds, "yeah, but my man Sean here had the structure on lock."
Sean smiles. "But the snare part, all the stickin', it's the kid." Devon can't trust himself to look at Sean (especially in that sweater) for fear of blushing, but before he can think of something else to say, Dr Lee raises one eyebrow.
"What, you two a couple now?" Dr Lee asks sarcastically.
They both shake their heads, but Devon wonders, if he looked at Sean right now, would he see the same emotion he saw that night in the practice room? And if he saw that, could he still say no?