Archive of Our Own

There is an old saying that claims that “opposites attract”, though it has been debated for its validity nearly as much as it had been uttered throughout the years. At first, Ferdinand had been the type of man to argue against such logic, despite his tendency to lean towards romantic notions such as “true love” or “love at first” in much of the media he consumed. He simply thought that if two people who were constantly upon opposing sides there would be a constant sense of unrest within the relationship.

It was not until he had met and fallen in love with Hubert Vestra that he came to understand the complexity of such a tiresome idiom. There was much more to the cliché phrase then at its surface.

As he sat upon his couch, scrolling through his social media feed while watching an interview upon the television that Hubert was currently on, he let his mind wander to how he had truly come to accept the idea that “opposites” could come together. It all happened through the journey he took after meeting and being charmed by the aloof, pessimistic bassist of the famous punk-rock band The Black Eagles.

It all started almost half a year ago on the set of some popular daytime talk show, where Ferdinand had been told by his record company that he was going to film an episode to chat about his upcoming album for more publicity. He had freely agreed to such an arrangement, as he could tolerate an evening on set. It was a break from either the hustle of touring, meet and greets, and spending hours on end in the recording studio trying to perfect a song.

Yet, what his company had failed to inform him about was the fact that this was a pre-recorded episode. While Ferdinand often appreciated the lack of tension from not having a live audience staring at him as he was questioned on a stuffy couch, he hadn’t realized that meant there might have been other guests also on set to take their turn to record a segment as well.

Therefore, when Ferdinand had stepped on set, he had been surprised by the sight of another artist within the studio. He was taken back by the band's appearance as they were all dressed in most black, monochromatic clothing he had ever laid his eyes upon. Not to mention the amount of studded belts and collars, spiked wristbands, cut and ripped fabrics, piercings galore, dyed hair, and a huge amount of black eyeliner upon each on their faces.

He could not stop himself from gawking. On his side of the industry, he did not come into contact with such strange costuming. Those within the Pop music charts would occasionally try to be gaudy with vibrant colors and weird silhouettes, but that was different than the current vibes he was getting off of the four wanna-be vampires that were speaking with one of the producers. Turning towards his manager with a perplexed expression, Ferdinand quietly whispers into his ear.

“Are you sure we are in the right studio? It feels strange that...Well, I would be booked upon the same talk show that would wish to interview with the umm…” He trails off, glancing over in the direction of the odd looking band again.

“Yes, this is where you are scheduled to be. This show covers various genres, as long as they are a top charter in their brand of music. So, it is no surprise they would invite The Black Eagles here with the amount of attraction they have been receiving after their second successful tour. Besides, it also saves the studio time and money to book multiple guests on a shooting day.” His manager explains, easing up some of the nerves upon the pretty Pop Star's shoulders.

Following after his manager’s lead, Ferdinand is brought to talk with the director, as well as the hostess who would be chatting with him this evening. He smiles wide, dazzling both with his charm and good looks. There were many reasons for his rise in popularity in the pop music charts. Yet, the main two were the fact he had an incredible vocal range with catchy tunes to match and that he was absolute eye candy for the public to eat up.

As he wrapped up his conversation with the director and hostess, he was informed to make himself comfortable since he would be second after The Black Eagles. He did not mind the wait at all, and in fact preferred getting to watch how the entire interview would play out with another artist before he was put under the spotlight. Thus, he decided to linger around the refreshments they had laid upon various tables in the back behind the scenes.

Placing a few cookies onto a plate, he tries to research a little more about The Black Eagles while nibbling upon the baked treats. Upon scrolling and clicking a recent article, Ferdinand has his memory re-jogged. He had heard a considerate amount about this group. While their music was not his preferred style, he had heard quite a few raving reviews about their recent performances during their latest tour.

Humming under his breath, he does a quick skim over each of their summaries upon a Wiki page. It seemed that their lead singer was a woman by the name Edelgard and that she had started the band with a group of her childhood friends. As he read down further, he picked up on the fact that the cyan haired drummer was Caspar Bergliez, the fierce looking lead guitarist went by Petra Macneary, and the rather gloomy bassist with accompanying vocals was Hubert Vestra.

An odd bunch in Ferdinand’s opinion.

Feeling thirsty from eating three entire cookies, he shuffled to the back where the beverages were kept. As he reached to grab a cold mineral water, he was shocked when a black nail polished hand brushed up against his own. He quickly retreats his arms and glances over to see the brooding bassist of The Black Eagles at his side.

“O-Oh. Sorry…” Hubert mutters, taking a step back and looking down at Ferdinand. He had not noticed him at first, having rushed over here to merely grab a fresh water to soothe the dryness of his throat.

“No, it is alright. You can take it if you wish, it is the last one.” Ferdinand says, offering a polite smile. At this proximity, he takes notice of how sharp of a jawline and cheekbones this man has. He does not think he has ever met another man with as striking features as him. Not to mention the richness of his green eyes that contrasted the heavy black makeup that sat upon his lids.

“Thanks…” Hubert takes the bottle, uncapping it and taking a quick swig before continuing to speak. “I uhh,...I am Hubert, by the way. Not that it matters to you, I am sure. Probably just here to get a paycheck, huh?” He sighs softly, giving him a condescending look that is not in the least bit subtle.

“Pardon? What do you mean by that?” Ferdinand asks with a huff, feeling a little irked by the attitude he was receiving from a man he had just met.

“Nothing really. Just you Pop-Stars are always so high maintenance. As well as in it for the money, not the music.” He shrugs, leaning his back up against the wall. He looked over to see where Petra was currently seated upon the couch. The hostess had requested each member get a short one-on-one session before having the group come together as a whole. He had already finished his questions, which there had been less than five, since he was not a talkative person and made for a boring guest.

Yet, it seemed his comment received another angry huff from the redhead before him, as Ferdinand crossed his arms and raised a brow in irritation. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to speak with him in the first place. He didn’t have the patience to deal with some Pop-Star’s tantrum.

“Well, I did not think such baseless rumors still were gossiped. Really? You have the nerve to claim something like that? Sure, maybe I am not some old group of friends turned into a band, but my music is incredibly important to me. I love making it. I love sharing it with others.” Ferdinand begins to spiel, much to Hubert’s discomfort. He can see it in the way the man tries to avert his eyes and brush the bangs of his hair further over his face.

“You should really watch yourself, Hubert. That is your name, right? It is ignorant speech like that which keeps pointless feuds between genres going in this day and age. I will have you know I put my heart into everything I do. I write my own music, and I do my best to keep my fans happy.” He shakes his head, turning his back towards him. He takes a few steps before Hubert reaches and places his hand upon his shoulder.

“Sheesh, alright calm it down. I am sorry I said that.” He groans, feeling exhausted he was still dealing with a tantrum, just in a different way. “I take it back. I have heard like,...maybe two of your songs, Ferdinand. You aren't...terrible. Just, erm…corny I suppose?”

Ferdinand is quiet for a moment, having turned himself back around to look at him. He is stunned he knows his name without having told him, but he is more shocked he admits to listening to any of his music. He would never suspect someone as cynical and edgy looking as Hubert to give his cheerful melodies a chance.

“...I guess I can not argue with that. Some of my topics are a bit cliche, but that is not a bad thing. It just means it will resonate with more people.” Ferdinand explains with a small curve of the lips. “But you know my name and music?”

Hubert finds himself stumped for words as he looks upon Ferdinand. He was looking at him with the most ridiculous smile, eyes shining as if he were a puppy, and a faint pink dusting over his freckled cheeks at the mere thought someone had listened to one of his songs. It was as if he didn’t realize he was blasted on every single radio station. He spoke and behaved like he was a new artist who was yet to be signed, grateful for any recognition.

“Yeah. You are on countless billboards, radio stations, commercials, magazines, and whatever. I would have to be living under a rock to not have heard your name, Ferdinand. Same goes for your music.” He chuckles some, and the tense mood between them starts to gradually dissipate.

Ferdinand finds himself blinking and then becoming crimson in the face. Nearly as bright as the vibrant shade of his hair. If Hubert had found him hard to look at before, he now had to look to his feet and ignore a strange fluttering within his chest for but a short second.

“Heh,..Well, I guess that is right. S-Sorry, sometimes I forget.” He laughs nervously, looking over to see the hostess wrapping up the last of the individual interviews for The Black Eagles. “I should not keep you too much longer. I think you are being summoned back to the stage.”

The two are quiet, the noise of the crew yelling back at each other as they adjust for the next scene filling the silence.

“...I will go over then. See ya.” Hubert gives a nod, walking over to take his spot upon the large couch with the rest of his band. Once he sat down, he was mocked by Caspar for “flirting” with the pretty boy Pop-Star, so he nudged him in the chest harshly with his elbow to shut him up. It worked.

When The Black Eagles finished up their session, there was to be a quick intermission to prepare and change the stage slightly for the next recording with Ferdinand. After getting his makeup touched up and hair styled up in a braided ponytail, Ferdinand returns onto the set from the dressing room with a rush of nerves. He had been on countless shows, but he also felt nervous right before they began. Unlike the natural confidence he held when he walked on stage, having to blather about himself was a bit difficult. He did not want to come off as selfish or stuck-up, so he often worried himself with his ceaseless thoughts and anxiety.

As he paced around the floor, a few of the staff came to check upon him. They all nearly grovel at his feet, telling him they would do anything he desired to make him more comfortable. Yet, Ferdinand just shook his head and implored that he was fine. When they continued to suggest different snacks or drinks they could fetch for him, he declined all offers since he did not wish to burden them any further. He knows just how harsh working in this industry can be, and he didn’t want to be an extra thorn in their sides.

While Ferdinand was trying to walk off his nerves by pacing in a circle, Hubert had caught sight of him kindly rejecting the staff. He was once again surprised by the "down-to-Earth" attitude Ferdinand held. He had been on far too many of these dumb shows and had met so many snobby, pompous brats that had gotten here from trust funds and their fathers’ influences. But the more that Hubert eavesdropped on Ferdinand’s interactions with the staff and his manager, the more he realized that he might have been wrong to apply such a stigma to him. Although they had been given the clearance to leave, Hubert had stuck around in the shadows while the rest of his band-mates had gone to their dressing rooms to change into more casual wear.

Along with his revelations about Ferdinand’s character, Hubert felt a weird tug once again upon his heart as he gazed upon the renewed appearance of Ferdinand with his long, orange locks now neatly braided to the side. Not to mention the faint makeup upon his face used to help bring out his features on camera highlighted the vibrancy of his eyes. In simple terms, he looked beautiful. Recognizing he felt this way made Hubert want to gag, as he was NOT the type to be making “goo-goo eyes” at a man he barely knew.

His troubled thoughts only get worse, as against his better judgment, his legs move without his permission to approach Ferdinand once more before he leaves.

“Excuse me, Ferdinand? May I have a word with you?” Hubert asks, apprehension in his voice. He rubs at his arm in a skittish gesture, feeling his heart skip a beat when Ferdinand turns around and looks him directly in the eyes.

“Sure. Just be quick, I think I will be called on any minute now.”

“Right, no problem.” Hubert clears his throat, trying to not stare at the intricate woven pattern of his hair at this proximity. “...I just wanted to wish you good luck in the interview. Also, I am sorry about what I said. I was a bit of an asshole, so yeah.”

Ferdinand blinks a few times, then grinned at him with an enormous amount of cheer upon his face.

“We can just start over. I am Ferdinand Aegir. Singer and songwriter. And you?” He holds a hand out, beaming as he waits for Hubert to return his kind greeting.

Hubert bites his lip, but he moves and grabs Ferdinand’s hand, giving it a firm shake. He was seriously warm to the touch. Was this guy some walking ray of sunshine? Weird.

“I’m Hubert Vestra. Bassist and accompanying vocalist for The Black Eagles. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He looks upon their hands, gently pulling his back after probably lingering for a few seconds longer than he should have.

Ferdinand opens his mouth to speak, but the words are hushed as his name is called over the speaker to head over to the stage for the recording. He sighs and gives a sheepish look to Hubert, knowing that this whole restarted meeting would have to be cut short.

“Duty calls. Maybe I will see you around sometime?” He suggests, a bit confused why he wanted to run into him again so badly.

“Maybe.” Hubert shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Break a leg.” He hates that phrase, but he does enjoy the laugh it receives in return.

“Of course. Goodbye, Hubert.” Ferdinand waves before skipping over quickly towards the stage, apologizing profusely for the delay.

There was an extended period of time before the two ever saw each other again. It was not much of a surprise though, since their audiences were quite different and both Ferdinand and The Black Eagles constantly had packed schedules. On the outside looking in, working in the music industry might seem like cake-walk, but it was anything but. It was much more than simply having fun by playing a few songs and then partying it up like films portrayed it to be. The work was exhaustive, and your label constantly had you shipped off from place to place to keep your image and public interest on the rise.

However, through the constant commotion, Ferdinand had managed to run into Hubert and slowly start the budding of a relationship of sorts.

It started with the day they had met at the daytime talk show, and continued about a month later at a photo shoot for a magazine. Ferdinand had been booked for the cover, which was a massive deal to his company. While Ferdinand did not mind the occasional photo taken of himself, it was a bit awkward to be fawned over by an entire crew of stylists and a photographer constantly praising you for lifting your chin to the side at a certain angle.

When he was given time for a quick thirty minute break to change into the next outfit and relax, Ferdinand was eager to get out of the hot ring lights. He was no stranger to the warmth of stage lights making him build up a sweat while performing, but he did not think shining with the gleam of sweat was the look the photographer was aiming for with his shoot. Hence, once Ferdinand was freed from the prison of hair and makeup, he spent the remainder of his time just chugging a bottle of water and pacing around outside of the building to breathe in the fresh air.

As he pressed the freezing bottle against the back of his neck to help keep him cool, Ferdinand spotted the familiar face of Hubert and one of his band-mates. Narrowing his gaze, he recognizes that it was the lead singer by the stark white color of her hair. He was unsure whether or not to take the initiative to approach him, since their first meeting had been rocky at best, but it seemed he did not have to.

Hubert had been chatting boredly about how dumb coming to these sort of photo shoots was to Edelgard, walking across the lot to return back to the rest of their friends to finish the last couple of group shots for an exclusive article within a very different magazine than that Ferdinand was posing for. Yet, he stopped mid-stride when he felt a person’s gaze upon him. Turning his head, he makes eye contact with Ferdinand, who he could recognize even from this distance.

“Hey, what are you-- Oh. It’s him again.” Edelgard gives a knowing smirk, enjoying the sudden awestruck mood that had frozen her best friend in place. “Are you going to go and flirt with him? You did a poor job last time.”

The arrogance of her comments and smug smirk upon her face snaps Hubert out of his daze long enough to feel his usual annoyance at her nosy antics. It was not any of her business what he wished to do. Also, she had no right to presume his feelings for some flamboyant Pop-Star he’s spoken to once in his entire life.

“First, shut up.”

“Ouch.”

“Second, I was in no shape flirting last time. If my memory isn’t a total goner, I am certain I insulted and angered him the last time we met.” Hubert scoffs, glancing back over to Ferdinand, who looked as if he wanted to cross the threshold to join them. He could never allow that because Edelgard would surely say something to humiliate him.

“Hubert, let's be honest for - I don’t know - maybe, thirty seconds of your life? You do not bother talking with anyone outside of our band and those we work with. So, pardon me for making assumptions, but maybe being belittled by you is your terrible way of breaking the ice with a handsome stranger?” She glances over to see Ferdinand waving his hand to Hubert, then flickers them back to see him return it with a lazy half raise of his arm at chest level. He was much easier to read than he thought.

“That would be a terrible way to greet people and try to get to know them."

“Yeah, that is why you would be the one to do it. Your social skills have never been...the best.” She mocks him, but there is a tenderness to her voice. “Alright. Here’s how this is going to go down. I am going to head back to the studio to check on the others.”

She then places her hand on his shoulder and begins to push him forward. She might look small, but she was far stronger than him and easily pushed him forward towards where Ferdinand was lingering about.

“You are going to go talk with him again. Get his number. Do something.” She stops her pushing as Hubert turns back to look at her in horror, shaking his head quickly.

“No. I think I would much rather just go back to the studio with you. I have no need to get myself further involved with some...pretty boy Pop-Star who’s probably never even heard a lick of real music in his life.”

This earns him a friendly smack on the back, as well as a skeptical look and shake of the head. Edelgard was far too patient with Hubert and his irksome habits, but she would not let this one slide. Not yet at least.

“You do not get a choice. You just laid your feelings out plainly right there.” Taking a deep breath, she cups her hands around her mouth and yells across the lot.

“HEY! FERDINAND! I THINK MY FRIEND HERE WANTS TO HAVE A WORD WITH YOU!”

All the color drains from Hubert’s face, and he swears he can see the remnants of his tattered soul ascending out of his body. He glares at Edelgard and is ready to unleash a fury of the most vile vulgarities out of his mouth, but instead he is met with the back of her head running off into the distance with the sound of devious laughter growing faint until she was gone. It seemed he had been abandoned, and there was now a wide-eyed Ferdinand looking at him expectantly to come and speak with him.

So, of course, he had to drag his weary bones over to talk with him out of obligation.

Stepping up to Ferdinand, he gets a much closer look at his appearance, which was quite mesmerizing. He had his hair down today, but within it were a few flowers woven into the locks. The sight of which made Hubert get a weird Disney Prince aura from the man, which was far more fitting than it should have been. Along with his hair, he wore a rather short mini-skirt that was in a pastel shade of yellow. Underneath were a pair of stockings with the hint of a garter peeking from his thigh, as well as a pair of knee high white boots with a very tall stiletto heel. Dragging his eyes back up, he notices how the shirt is made of a mesh material, easily seen through, but with a rather cute black bralette underneath.

Hubert must remind himself not to ogle, or else Ferdinand would likely think he was a creep.

“Uhh...” There are no words that come out of Hubert’s mouth, and Ferdinand feels a sudden wave of awkwardness rise within him at how Hubert had studied his wardrobe rather intensely.

“Is everything fine, Hubert? You look a bit startled.” Ferdinand attempts to start a conversation, taking this moment to return the lecherous stare that Hubert had given him seconds before.

He had a very similar make up to the last time he saw him, though he thinks the wings are much longer and sharper this time. A nice touch. His hair was still rather disheveled, with a large portion of his bangs covering one of his eyes again. He had piercings all up the sides of his ears, along with one upon his eyebrow, his nose, and lip. Upon closer inspection, he finds them to be rather attractive, especially the one upon his bottom lip.

Shifting his gaze to his clothing, he wore a very tight pair of leather pants that stuck to his rather long, skinny legs quite nicely. Upon his feet were a pair of combat boots with a thick, chunky heel that raised his height up even more than it had been last time. Then, his top was rather simple, a striped long sleeve shirt that had a few holes ripped through it with a matching leather jacket to go along with his pants. He could list the large amount of bracelets upon his wrist as well, but he needed to turn his attention back to his face when Hubert eventually speaks up.

“Ferdinand, yes...I-I am doing...okay.” He tries to do his best impression of a human being who is not currently being saddled with unnecessary feelings of attraction. “I apologize for my...friend. I really did not have anything in mind to discuss with you.” He sighs with a heaviness upon his heart.

“O-Oh. Well, that is alright. I actually wished to speak with you anyways. I was curious how you were doing?” Ferdinand was unsure where to take this conversation, but he didn’t wish to let it die so quickly. He wanted a chance to speak with him further.

“Good. Busy, but I don’t have any right to complain about that.” He shrugs, moving a hand to nervously tug more of his hair in front of his one eyes like he had before. This little nervous tick makes Ferdinand smile. For a man dressed in all black and was supposed to be intimidating, he just found him to be...cute.

“I think you have the right. I have been so tired lately. It feels like I am doing a thousand things, but making music.” Ferdinand’s smile disappears in the wake of a frown, and Hubert finds that seeing such an expression on Ferdinand’s face is unacceptable. He barely knew the man, but the idea of him being upset caused a sharp pang beneath his rib-cage. Also, he found himself strongly relating with his predicament.

“I...know that feeling. I get so tired of all the bullshit.” He shakes his head, a scowl across his features. “Labels claim to want to help you with your sound, but they only care about money. So, they just book you for a thousand dumb events, like a photo shoot. Ughhh, I would much rather be working on my music, but instead I am treated like a puppet.” He huffs, feeling oddly cathartic to rant about such feelings with Ferdinand.

Ferdinand grins at him, grabbing at his hands. He squeezes and shakes them, his excitement at having his own inner thoughts being verbalized making him forget himself and his manners to not touch someone without permission first. The touch is pleasant, and he can feel a slight amount of sweat upon Hubert’s clammy hands, but he doesn’t mind.

“Exactly! It is such a relief to hear you say that! I thought, well, maybe it was just me...” He pouts some, but the smile returns fast in the wake of his enthusiasm. “But! It is not. I am not being selfish if you also face the same hassle in your line of work!” He bubbles with laughter, which sends Hubert even further down the rabbit hole of his budding feelings.

Hubert swallows, meeting the radiant gaze of Ferdinand’s eyes, which were only made prettier with the sparkling eye shadow upon his lids. He does not think he has seen a smile so large until this very moment.

“Heh,...yeah. Companies want money, while we want to make music for our fans. At least those of us who are genuine.” There is a mild heat that spreads across his cheeks as he says the following words. “And you seem to be genuine. Which is quite rare these days. It is refreshing.”

Ferdinand feels as if he has been hit with the full force of a truck at Hubert’s admittance to finding him to be sincere in his passion for his job. A creeping thought within his mind wishes to hear more. To have Hubert praise him for his hard work in the industry. After their first meeting, it felt monumental. Plus, it made his heart flop within his chest. He hasn’t felt that way in ages.

“Y-You mean that? I am so elated you think of me in such a light!” Ferdinand lets go of their hands to pull him into a bruising hug. Although, it is one sided as Hubert short circuits and has his arms hanging at his sides, unable to process what is currently happening to his body.

“Not a...a..problem--” Hubert strangles out of his mouth, slowly raising his hands to loosely touch Ferdinand upon his back. He feels as if he is being burned to a crisp, but it strangely is a sensation he could grow accustomed to.

Pulling back from the hug, Ferdinand chuckles and appreciates the flustered expression upon Hubert’s face, unaware he wore a similar one upon his own. He pulls out his phone, going to check the time. As he does this, Hubert stumbles to pull out his own to try and possibly exchange numbers, but he doesn’t get the chance.

“OH GOSH--” Ferdinand exclaims, a panic settling in his voice. “I-I have to go! I have to get back to my shoot. Sorry to cut this short. I’ll see you around.” He gives a quick apologetic nod his way before racing off to make it on time for the second half of his shoot.

Now left alone, Hubert looks down at the phone in his hands and groans with audible confusion and aggravation. What was he even doing anymore? He was dumb to assume Ferdinand would wish to have his number. Still, he felt a little lighter in his steps as he began to walk back to meet with the rest of his band.

After this chance encounter, it seemed that fate had chosen their side and allowed them to continue meeting randomly in different places. It was never planned, but somehow Hubert and Ferdinand would often be in the same place at the same time. Some of these instances included more photo shoots for different advertisements, magazines, news articles, and more. During which, the two would take their respective breaks together, chatting awkwardly outside one of their buildings, until either Ferdinand’s manager called him back inside, or someone like Petra came to fetch Hubert back to finish their job.

Besides the occasional photo shoot, there were even more surprising meetings, such as at more TV stations where the two would linger by a snack table, teasing one another’s music and making jokes over the provided coffee and tea. Then, there was the occasional meeting outside of a recording studio or radio station. Amiable chats began to grow more daring. Perhaps even flirty. Yet, no one would make a direct move.

Passive compliments. Longing gazes. Infatuated laughter. Sensual smiles. Gentle brushes against one another.

But neither would take a further step. Not out of lack of interest, for it was obvious to everyone with eyes that the two were incredibly into each other. However, it was not as simple as just wanting to date. While it was clear to everyone else in The Black Eagles that Hubert had formed a gigantic crush on the sparkling Pop-Star Ferdinand Aegir, it was also known to their label. Since the two were not just everyday people, dating in the public eye could be tricky. In fact, both Hubert and Ferdinand were told explicitly by their managers to not make any scenes.

Why? Because their fans were on two different sides of the spectrum, and they did not want to chance some sort of scandal. Plus, there was enough paparazzi in their lives by themselves, but if the two were to begin dating, then their lives would become even less private. Although Hubert lied to himself and his manager that wasn’t interested in dating in the first place, he felt a pit in his gut knowing that he wasn’t allowed to make a decision about his own damn feelings for himself.

It was unfair.

Ferdinand had an even worse time about it because he did recognize his blossoming affections, and to be told not to share them or act upon them was heartbreaking. He had fought with his manager very heatedly the evening he had been informed to “tone down” his interactions with Hubert Vestra. It wasn’t right! He was fuming, but his words were futile. His manager threatened that if he were caught by the press being romantic with Hubert that there could possibly be repercussions.

So, Ferdinand sadly accepted his fate. At least, he tried to.

It was about two weeks since he had last seen Hubert, and he feared that maybe the two would never get a chance to interact again. He assumed Hubert had been given a similar spiel from his own label, so perhaps they were purposely trying to avoid setting up occasions for the two to meet. The thought had been him furious before, but now it only left a hollow feeling within his heart. A void that wished to be soothed with the presence of a snarky laugh and mischievous smile from those pierced pink lips.

On one of his rare days off, Ferdinand felt the urge to grab himself a coffee to unwind from a tiresome week. So, he had done his best to dress down to hide from the public. He had placed his hair in a rather lazy, tired bun since he didn’t have the energy to style it. He also threw on a pair of plain gray leggings and an over-sized hoodie to try and make himself as indistinguishable as possible. Large white rimmed sunglasses over his eyes, Ferdinand left to make his way to his favorite little cafe in town.

When he arrived, he felt relieved that no one had yet to recognize him. He really was not in the mood to be swarmed by fans. While he adored every single one, he was human, and he wanted to be able to enjoy some simpler pleasures of life. Keeping his head down, he scrolls through his phone as he waits in line. Since his attention was currently upon the screen, he takes one too many steps and bumps into the person standing in front of him in line.

“Oh, sorry! I wasn’t looking, sir--” Ferdinand begins to apologize, but his words get caught in his throat as the man that turns back is none other than Hubert himself. He stares with his mouth agape, having to remind himself to shut it and not be rude.

“Ferd-” Hubert begins to speak, but a hand flies over his mouth and Ferdinand quickly shakes his head.

“Do not let someone hear you.” He speaks in a hushed tone, glancing around to see any reactions. No one seemed to care, minus wanting them to continue moving to not hold up the line. “We can talk after we order.”

So, Hubert nodded and he went up to order himself a cup of coffee, getting his usual dark roast. He also nonchalantly offers to pay for the man behind him too, slipping a rather large bill to the cashier. He informs him to take whatever is left afterwards as a tip, then steps to the side to wait until his number is called.

Once he takes his seat in the far corner of the shop, steering away from any windows, he blows over his coffee before taking a sip. He hisses at the slight sting upon his tongue, but the taste is immaculate. It is only a couple of minutes before Ferdinand takes a seat across from him at the table, sitting with his own cup of warm coffee. The two stare at each other, not yet speaking as they try to take in each other’s appearance after not being in contact for so long.

Hubert had dressed down quite a bit. His hair was mainly covered by a beanie except with the bangs in front of his eye, and he lacked the usual makeup upon his face. His clothing was casual, an older band’s t-shirt with a jacket over the top, zipped about three-quarters up. He had not stared too closely at his pants, since they were merely plain grey skinny jeans with a pair of beat-up sneakers below. However, the simplicity of the outfit was appreciated by Ferdinand.

“It’s been a while. It is nice to see you again, Hubert…” Ferdinand starts the conversation, his hands clasped around his warm cup. "And thank you, for the coffee."

“Ah, yeah. I guess we haven’t really met anywhere…” Hubert mumbles back, his gaze flickering between the table and the gentle look upon Ferdinand's face. He had removed the sunglasses once he sat down, and Hubert admired his current look. The few strands of hair falling from his bun framed his face in a handsome fashion. "And it's no biggie..."

“Have you been well enough?” Ferdinand asks, bringing his cup up to his lips. He takes a long sip, letting it calm some of the apprehension that lingers within his chest. There is a part of him that wants to reach out. To grab onto his hands and confess all that has been on his mind these past two weeks. But he waits and listens instead.

“Fine, I suppose. Finally working on a new song, so that’s exciting.” Hubert smiles across at Ferdinand, feeling that innate tug once more upon him when the two are alone together. “And you? How have things been? Not to be a jerk, but...you look a little tired.”

Ferdinand feels something in his stomach twist at the way Hubert can see right through him and pinpoint that he is unwell. It was not a physical ailment, but it was making him sick nonetheless. He grits his teeth, feeling that surge to confess once more.

“I look that bad, huh? Sorry, I usually am not so unkempt…” He trails off, to which Hubert quickly stops that train of thought.

“N-No! You look great! F-Fantastic even! I, umm, I-I like what you did with your hair, it’s just--” He takes a deep breath, his mouth going far faster than his brain could come up with the words. “...You just seem a bit more mellow than usual, so I wondered if something was up is all.” He lets his shoulders slump in defeat, feeling like an idiot. No wonder Edelgard and others teased him mercilessly; he was pathetic at this whole flirting thing.

The rush of panic to apologize from Hubert stirs that longing once more in Ferdinand’s heart. He starts to fear that if he talks with him much longer, he will not be able to keep himself from breaking the rules his company so badly wanted him to follow. He shakes his head, reaching a hand to place it on top of Hubert’s upon the table.

“Relax, I wasn’t offended. Rather touched, actually. You can see through me so easily…” He takes in a deep breath, rubbing his thumb over the back of Hubert’s hand. “I have been feeling gloomy recently. Lonely too. And...ughh, angry--”

Ferdinand feels that boiling rage within his blood, but he soothes it once he looks back at the calming color of Hubert’s eyes. They speak to him, beg of him to not hold back his words.

“Feel free not to answer, but...why? What has made you so upset? Is it your label again? Have they been booking you too much?” Hubert frowns, his eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on Ferdinand’s feelings closely. He was not the best when it came to empathy, but he was giving it his all in this situation.

“Yes, but no. They just…” He feels his patience wearing thin, so much so that it snaps when he feels Hubert turn his hand over to hold onto his. “My manager is a complete dick! You know what he told me?! He said I-I was not allowed to speak with you because if we, well...were to form a romantic  relationship, it could spell trouble for my image.” His words rise in volume and rage, finally revealing the true colors of his feelings.

The sudden outburst shocks Hubert, causing his entire brain to fuzz over and run static for an entire minute before a single thought can be processed. He just stares, not blinking, at Ferdinand. Then, when his wits return, he squeezes his hand and lets his own repressed pining be brought to light.

“I was told a similar thing. I was told to stay away from you. That my fans would hate me if they knew I was dating well,... a guy like you. But--” He gazes into his eyes, his entire face drenched with a feverish red color. “..But I don’t care! Not anymore. I want to be honest with you. With myself. I...I want to...”

He feels his heart starting to beat out of rhythm, drowning his ability to hear with its ceaseless pounding. Yet, the sound is just what drives him to lean forward. He takes his free hand from his lap and uses it to grab Ferdinand by the cheek and lean across the table to kiss him hotly upon the lips. It is much more forceful than he intended, but Ferdinand instantly presses back. He closes his eyes and finds the aching in his heart is replaced with such tingly warmth within his chest at this new development.

Hubert attempts to pull back, but Ferdinand grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him back into his lips. Their mouths smash together sloppily, but it is all Hubert could hope for. It’s a dream come true, and he eagerly ignores the urge to breathe for Ferdinand. It is only when there are some rather loud coughs and disgruntled noises from other patrons that the two split apart.

“Outside. Now.” Ferdinand pants, and Hubert follows him like a dog on a leash outside of the cafe. The two slip behind the building, and Hubert happily presses Ferdinand against the wall, sharing a plethora of kisses with those soft, ruby lips. They find a synchronous pace after a few fumbled attempts, but once it’s started, it’s nearly impossible to stop.

“Mmmph...I really like you, Hubert--” He is cut off by another kiss, which he happily returns before breathing out once more. “...I have wanted you to kiss me like this.”

He shudders, feeling his hair be tossed from its bun at Hubert’s hands running through it so eagerly.

“...Me too.” Hubert mutters, feeling like his entire body was engulfed in flames as Ferdinand ran his hands down his chest. “...Damn, you are so fucking pretty.” He whispers, which only encouraged Ferdinand to smother him with more kisses.

While kissing a few steps away from a dumpster in the back of a cafe might not seem like the most romantic location to confess, it worked wonders for Hubert and Ferdinand. The two were overjoyed at the mutual feelings they held. Some words remain unspoken, but both knew that they would have to be careful with how they would proceed after this sudden change within their relationship.

But that didn’t matter. Ferdinand knew they would work it out. He would get to share in his affections for Hubert, while still keeping his label happy. Nothing was going to stop him from falling deeper in love with this weird but oh so sweet shadowy man.

Flashing forward to the present, Ferdinand turned off his phone and listened to the various questions his boyfriend was answering upon the TV screen. He suddenly felt sentimental going down memory lane, remembering the steps that the two made to end up dating in the first place. In the month since they had confessed, Ferdinand and Hubert had done well to keep their status as a couple from being discovered. Minus the three other Eagles who could easily tell, especially when he would come to practice with lipstick marks upon his skin.

Life was good, and Ferdinand was content.

But there were days where he worried if this sort of a relationship could last, being so sneaky about every little thing they did together. Part of him wanted to march up to both of their records and exclaim how they were passionately in love and would not let a single person get in the way of their relationship. Yet, Ferdinand was not going to be selfish and make such a choice without the consent of Hubert.

As the show returned from commercial break, Ferdinand found his interest piqued at a particular question.

“So tell me, Hubert. We have been talking about your music and the band for a while now. Let me ask you this, how do you feel about the fact that cheesy pop artists like.....Oh! Ferdinand Aegir get far more attention and publicity than The Black Eagles?” The interviewer asks him, earning a few laughs from the crowd they were filming in front of. Yet, Hubert does not chuckle in the slightest. He merely stiffens, a scowl upon his face.

“While I surely want our band to get the respect and attention it deserves, I would not claim that we are so special to be the only ones who work hard to earn the praise and support of fans.” Hubert sends a glare towards the camera and continues.

“In fact, artists like Ferdinand Aegir are equally as devoted as we are. I am sure he works tirelessly to make his music, just as we do. While it may not be my personal taste, that does not mean it takes any less talent or dedication to accomplish what he has done.”

The room grows silent for a moment before the host just gives a nervous chuckle from shock at such a passionate answer. He had not been prepared for Hubert to argue against his mockery of pop music.

“Oh, of course. We were merely curious if you perhaps get jealous that his style of music gets more views and funds than your own is all. Pop music in general does much better.” The interviewer tries to save himself and the show, to which Hubert sighs and rolls his eyes.

“It’s called pop for a reason. It is popular. I don't really care if I’m not on a top 100 chart on the radio. Our fans support us, and I enjoy making my music. That’s what matters.” He answers truthfully, which the crowd appreciates and claps along for. The show cuts off for another break to avoid any more weird moments, and Ferdinand is left stunned on his couch at what he had just heard with his own two ears.

Had Hubert just...defended him and his music on live television?

While he knew Hubert would support him on the sidelines, he had never expected him to make such a bold claim where anyone could hear. It might even have negative impacts from certain petty fans who liked to hate on any music that was "mainstream." Yet, Hubert had spoken with no remorse and did not allow Ferdinand to become the source of a joke.

He had planned to wait at his apartment for Hubert to stop by in the late evening, but he no longer could keep himself still. He was bursting with a sense of adoration for his beloved boyfriend, and he had to go and see him right this very second. So, he hopped off the couch and called himself a ride to drive him over to the station Hubert was currently being interviewed at. In a flash, he grabbed his shoes, wallet, phone, and keys before heading out the door.

In city traffic, the ride took so much longer than Ferdinand had the patience for. He kept staring at his phone, watching the minutes tick by. He needed to steal Hubert's time just for a few moments. Then, he could go along with the rest of his plans on his schedule.

Fortunately, Ferdinand is dropped off and quickly sets off in a sprint to locate the building number Hubert had been recording in. He only knew because he had been there various times himself as well, and since he was a bit of a celebrity, no one really questioned why he was roaming around. They merely assumed he was here on business. Making his way through, Ferdinand hovers outside the back of the studio until the door creaks open and the sight of his glorious boyfriend graces his eyes.

“Hubert!” Ferdinand calls out, ignoring the fact that his volume could easily catch the attention of onlookers. He rushes up and pulls him into a hug, unable to wait for a second longer. “Oh! Hubert,...I heard your interview. How you defended me. You’re the absolute sweetest. You didn’t have to do that.” He gushes, his eyes shining with gratitude.

Hubert had been startled by the hug, but he melted and returned it. He presses a hand upon Ferdinand's cheek, surprised he had come here, but very glad to see him. He felt so enraged at that shitty host’s attempt to start a feud. No one was going to talk about Ferdinand in such a way around him ever again. He had learned his lesson. He knew the truth, not the lies the media tried to feed to the public.

“Of course I had to, Ferdinand. I am not going to allow some asshole to speak poorly about you. He knows nothing about you. He has no right to say those things. He--” His voice is quieted by the press of soft lips upon his own. His eyes flutter a few times before coming to a close. He slips his hand to the back of his head, playing with his soft, fluffy hair.

Each kiss was like a taste of heaven, and Hubert was starving for more. He could find himself lost like this for hours. The press of Ferdinand upon his body, the softness of his lips meeting with his own, the firm touch of his hand upon his back. It all added up to be the most wonderful of feelings.

FLASH!

The two pull apart as a dozen pictures are snapped quickly by one lowly woman with a camera around her neck. Upon getting her scoop, she quickly darts to leave before she can be caught by either man. Ferdinand breaks apart and starts to walk after her, but stops as Hubert wraps his arms around his waist from behind. He pressed his face into his shoulder and sighs.

“Let her go. It’s no use anyways…”

“B-But, Hubert...the press--”

“Shhh, I don’t give a shit about the paparazzi. I don’t care if my friends mock me for the rest of my days. And I really couldn't care less about what our managers say.” He shakes his head, leaning to press a kiss into his neck, scattering more pecks upward until one hits his cheek.

“All I care about is you. If people want to judge me for being with you, let them. We will make it work. There’s no way in Hell I’m letting anything get in the way of my music or my devotion to you, Ferdinand.” He tilts his head, pressing a tender, chaste kiss upon his lips.

“Oh, Hubert....” Ferdinand sighs, his expression growing delicate.

“Yes?” Hubert replies, slightly hesitant.

“I think I love you.” He whispers, allowing himself to drop the “L word” in the wake of this passionate moment.

A heartbeat. Then, Hubert chuckles and kisses him once more.

“Think? I hope I can make it certain, because I love you, too.”