Archive of Our Own ^beta

***

Wyvern Moon

***

The air is damp, filled with heat of the bodies dancing to the music – electric in a way which causes Felix’s head to spin. His top clings to his body, tight and moist. His eyes are glued to the stage, fixating on this one person; the reason why he is here.

Not to his brother. No, of course not. Who cares about Glenn? His traitor of a brother who won’t introduce him to his keyboardist standing two paces behind him, hands ravaging the keys of the keyboard – fast like lightning, striking like thunder.

This is the person Felix can’t take his eyes off. His piercing gaze – unfocused as if in a haze, accented by the eyepatch – forces Felix to stare at the one single blazing orb.

He must be in the zone. Completely taken by the music, by his music, by the storm of sounds suffocating the room, causing the people to dance, to scream and to lose themselves in the moment.

Thousands of impulses rain on him – combinations of sounds and sensations. The dim lighting heightens his senses while it dulls his mind. His choker clings to his neck and grows tighter when he swallows. The sweet and acrid smoke of the fog machine lingers in the air; salty sweat mixes with humid breaths. Bodies press against him, dancing against each other, so utterly drunk in the moment.

He groans when a taller person blocks his vision, scowls when he is squeezed between two dancing couples.

The band completely fulfills their purpose, goading the masses to follow them into a sea of zeal while they wreak havoc on the stage. They play and they sing as if the apocalypse starts in two minutes.

Back then when Glenn started his new position, he told Felix that work gets boring or stressful at times. And this is their outlet. Their outlet to let off all the steam, all the bottled-up frustration about annoying clients, crusty bosses and the crushing reality that they are wasting away their time with vanilla office jobs which provides them with money to feed their stomach but no excitement to feed their souls.

And it shows.

They bring the house down whenever they go on stage – which is unfortunately rare because they have their boring full-time jobs. But Goddess when they come together on the stage Felix nearly gets jealous at how much thrill they radiate. Only nearly because he knows he and his band can do better still.

Felix loves the thrill, the excitement of the crowd which washes over him when he takes the mic. He loves challenges. Takes on any which run his way, no matter how small or big. He is not the person who will grab the bull by its horns. He is the person who runs after the bull, screaming for it to come after him. He will never back off and therefore he hates. Hates. Absolutely hates: Monotony. Stagnancy.

Boredom.

This is exactly why he is here. The reason why he stares at the keyboardist with the wild hair, probably blonde or light brown. His ragged jacket lined with fur flies when his whole body thrums, smashing the keys. Dark make-up encircles his single eye, smoky, deep, sucking him in. The red light flashing in the corner reflects in his eye and Felix can’t tell its true color. Brown, he hopes. Warm and passionate like fire. Strong and mighty like earth. By the Goddess, please, please, not blue. His old man has blue eyes and it’s an instant turn-off.

Felix really wants to see for himself, but he didn’t manage to coax more than a “haha, who knows,” out of his brother who decidedly won’t wing Felix.

Felix asks, “Hey, what’s his name?”
Glenn answers, “Haha, who knows.”
Then Felix asks, “How old is he?”
Then Glenn answers, “Take a guess.”
“26.”
“Haha, who knows.”

“Introduce us,” Felix sputters and wants to shake Glenn by his shoulders when the only response he offers is a shrug.

The internet has named the keyboardist “The Beast” and that’s what Felix calls him in his mind, too. The lady at the drums is dubbed “Bloody Mary” and Glenn “The Phantom”.

“Asshole” would have been good enough.

But it’s not like Felix doesn’t know how to take matters into his own hands. If Glenn doesn’t help him, Felix can help himself. His steps are quick and determined. He has a mission and tonight he will succeed.

Once the gig finishes, Felix pushes past the people, presses forward through the crowd. He needs to get backstage, doesn’t want to give Glenn any chance, any leeway to run off with his bandmates. There is no telling when their next performance will be, and Glenn won’t tell him where they practice, won’t disclose a single drop of information. Not even to Felix who he loves to call “cute little baby brother” and ignore his needs and wishes the next moment.

Felix has a mission and only feels remotely bad for peeping around the corner, hesitates only a second before he glances at the door which leads to their changing room. The Beast has to come out and Glenn can’t intervene. If the tables were turned, Felix would feel terribly annoyed, but this can’t be considered stalking. His brother is the lead singer of the band. He has the right. It’s basically Glenn’s fault, anyway, that he has to stoop to-

“May I help you?”

With a jerk, Felix turns around, pressing his back against the wall, glaring up – unfortunately, up – at the man who tried to scare the shit out of him, but he failed. Felix isn’t scared. His heart isn’t racing like he was caught in the act of committing a heinous crime. Instead, his jaw tenses to bark out an insult, but he halts and squints at the guy in front.

He is tall – that’s the first thing Felix realizes – and very much so. Blonde hair orderly kempt – half of it is bound together so it doesn’t fall into his eyes; there are a few loose strands here and there, framing his face, accenting its heart shape. His eyes are bright, light; they almost seem translucent. It’s a hue which Felix hasn’t seen before but unfortunately, it’s a blue tone.

The guy is dressed in a spotless white button-up shirt, ironed immaculately while Felix doesn’t even possess an iron.

Felix presses his lips together, nibbles at the bottom one. This guy looks…

Extremely boring.

Compared to him, Felix looks like a Christmas tree with all his bangles and rings. A sad one, considering the majority is black.

“I apologize.” The man raises his hands, smiling a small smile. “It wasn’t my intention to startle you. I thought, perhaps you’re lost, and I wanted to offer my help.”

Felix frowns. This guy’s manner of speaking is even worse than boring. “Who the hell are you?” he mutters. “Mind your own business.” Hopefully, the guy will catch that Felix wants him to leave.

He doesn’t. The guy doesn’t leave and even thinks Felix actually wants to know who he is.

“Oh, isn’t it rude to ask about others first before introducing oneself?” He chuckles and raises a brow. “Though, could it be…” His voice trails off and he darts Felix a smile which seems oddly misplaced.

Felix averts his gaze, unsure what to do of it. It’s not like Felix cares about being polite. He never cared and won’t start now. “See, I’m here to meet someone. Can you, please, fuc-”

“Fe!”

He groans. This is not the person he wants to see, but even so his brother scoots over, slinging an arm around him. His smile is so bright that Felix has to look away.

“What brings you here? I’m glad you made it! How did you like it?”

“You sucked. Where is the beast?”

The other guy inhales sharp, earning another frown from Felix. Glenn blinks, darting between the two. “Right… Did the Beast suck, too?”

The hell. He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Fuck, Glenn. Of course, he sucked! You all sucked! Where is he?” By now, Felix’s frown has morphed into a scowl. It’s not that hard to understand that his brother is trying to stall him. At this point the Beast might already have escaped!

“Oh, he left with Mary.” Great. Really great. “But let me introduce you to this guy here!” Glenn points at the tall guy who finally looks like he wants to leave. “This is Dimitri. We’re work colleagues.” His work colleague huh? They’re probably all stick-in-the-muds and Felix feels a sigh rising in his chest – relief that he doesn’t share the same fate as them. Glenn pats Dimitri on the shoulder as if he is a little kid. In a way it’s nice to see that Glenn treats others like this, too, though, it’s a bit odd to treat a colleague this intimate, isn't it? However, Glenn often does these kinds of things and places a hand on Felix’s shoulder next, turning to Dimitri. “This is my cute little bab-”

“Glenn!”

“-My cool handsome all-grown-up not-baby brother Felix.”

“Oh,” Dimitri clasps his hands together. “I thought so. Glenn has shared many stories about you!” The amused smile on his lips is telling enough that Felix doesn’t want to know what Glenn has told him. “You’re also a lead singer, aren’t you? Of your own band.”

Oh.

Felix puffs out his chest. A smirk tugs at his lips “I am.” He raises a brow, glancing up to Dimitri. Good for him that he knows at least this much. “I hope Glenn told you, we’re a lot better than his band.”

“Is this true? I must admit I have my doubts.” There is a glint in his eyes, a curl of the corner of his lips. He looks a lot better with a little mischief in his features. Felix purses his lips, glancing at him from below his lashes. “Even if you said they weren’t that good. Or in your words: They sucked.” Both Felix and Glenn snort. “I’m very impressed by your brother’s skill. The drummer is fantastic, too. This will be hard to beat.”

“What…” Felix frowns; the missing piece glares at him like a neon light. “…about the Beast?”

“Ah, the keyboard player?” Dimitri brings a hand to his chin in thought. Compared to the others he takes some time to think about his assessment of the beas- Wait.

Is there a blush on his cheek?

“I would say… He seems very passionate.”

Passionate? Felix’s eyes widen. Is this guy also into him? What does Dimitri know that Felix doesn’t? Has Glenn seriously told his colleague more about the Beast than his own brother? Most importantly: The hell does passionate even mean?

“He’s nothing special,” Felix presses out, hoping to dispel Dimitri’s interest in the Beast. “I’m far better than him.”

Glenn stares at Felix with a frown before he turns to Dimitri with a raised brow. His brother seems like he doesn’t quite know what is going on and to be frank… Felix doesn’t know either. His words initially felt sensible but on a second thought… Doesn’t it sound like he is telling Dimitri to be interested in him instead of the Beast?

“Point is: The Beast is shit,” he adds for good measure. Just to be clear.

Dimitri gets the message instantly. Eyes torn open he stares back at Felix, waiting for more. When nothing comes, he suddenly averts his gaze. His fingers start to fidget, and his cheeks redden even more. Goddess, he must really like the Beast.

“Uhm,” Glenn raises a single finger, pulling the attention to himself. A wry smile settles on his lips. “Let’s go to one of Felix’s next gigs together. I’ll let you know, ok?” He puts a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, darting him a smile which Dimitri doesn’t immediately return, at least not before he glances at Felix.

Before Felix can ruin the mood further, Glenn pulls him in. “Time for kids to sleep! See you, Dimitri!” He waves him goodbye and drags Felix along, leaving the building behind.

***

Red Wolf Moon

***

Felix’s hand glides over the strings of his guitar, presses down against the neck; his right hand picks with his plectron against the strings. Every single one of them vibrates beneath his fingertips as much as the bass vibrates in his chest. The audience jumps, shouts, cheers and when he opens his mouth, lips pressed against the mic, fingers tightly wrapped around it, he feels the vibration of his vocal cords, hears his own voice reverberate through the speakers, sees how the audience basks in the sound of his voice.

Singing is a form of communication Felix adores.

His mother sang him to sleep when he was a little child. Soft lullabies, guiding him on his way into the world of dreams. At school, he joined the choir. Albeit the songs being boring classical songs and harmonizing with others was difficult, he enjoyed it still – for the sake of singing in and on itself.

“We,” Sylvain said, pupils blown wide from alcohol - it is his last year at high school. His head softly swayed from side to side, eyes transfixed on Ingrid and Felix, “would make an amazing band.” He swung his jug of beer, spilling half of its content on the cushion he is leaning against. “Let’s do it!”

Ingrid and Felix, both completely gone by that point, just cheered, spilling their beers, too.

Ideas born from alcohol promise fun. Whether they are smart or realistic is another question. Back then it did not matter. Sylvain wanted to do something unforgettable before he left for college and Ingrid and Felix were willing to indulge him. There was no harm – except for pissed neighbors, screaming at them when Ingrid hit the drums too hard, when Felix fucked up the settings at the synthesizer of his guitar or Sylvain messed too much with the subwoofers of his bass that even Felix felt a bit sick in his stomach. There was no harm and they simply enjoyed creating music in their little garage. Their only audience were the rats in Sylvain’s house.

Back then nobody thought, it would last this long. None of them believed they wouldn’t only play together in Sylvain’s garage. It’s only when Felix met Annette in the library, singing to herself while putting some books back into the shelves, they finally had someone who wrote nice lyrics. They weren’t those funky kids singing crap nobody understood anymore. Annette provided them with meaningful song texts and came up with enticing melodies. They played at their schoolmates’ parties, went to competitions and performed at events in town and in the region.

Their music carries emotions. Every time Felix goes on stage, he pours all he has into his voice and his heart grows when he sees the crowd bathing in their music. They can tell stories, tales and morals; convey their feelings, genuine and true.

The idea born from alcohol became one of Sylvain’s rare strokes of genius and once Ingrid, Felix and Annette graduated from high school, they all moved to Fhirdiad to bring their music career to the next level.

This is how they find themselves on the stage, again, and again, stepping from one fairytale to another in a never-ending chain of bliss.

Felix glimpses down at the crowd, sways to their music and sings from the depths of his heart. His lips curl into a smile when he sees flashes of joy written on people’s faces. The lights blind him one moment, sweep over the crowd the next. He closes his eyes again, taking in the moment, allowing the energy of the room to fill him, to drive him, opening them again and-

Dimitri stands in the middle of the crowd, mouth agape in awe.

Felix smirks against the mic, feels the texture scratching against his lips, glances down through heavily lidded eyes. His hand slows in its work on his guitar before both hands grip the mic.

Music conveys so much more than words ever will.

“This was absolutely sublime!”

“Of course.” Felix has crossed his arms in front of his chest and struggles to keep his facial muscles in check. He doesn’t want to look like a goof, but Dimitri has been heaping praise on him ever since they went backstage. It doesn’t help that his face is flushed from the heat of their performance. He is still standing in his stage outfit, sticky and gross. But he feels strangely comfortable in the hallway, leaning against the wall while Dimitri smiles at him; creases form at the corner of his eyes; dimples dent his reddened cheeks.

Felix can’t be bought with praise. But Felix can be bought with rapture. And rapture is what Dimitri is exuding, stumbling over every word, describing what he has just seen. He has noticed every minute detail of their performance: The shift in mood in the middle of their third song, the way Ingrid banged her head to the beat, the crook of Sylvain’s back when he hunches over his bass guitar as he swings an arm up into the air… The moments Felix switches focus from his guitar to his voice. There is a spark in Dimitri’s eyes as he describes everything he can recall, an excited pitch in his voice as his hands move around, wildly gesturing in the air.

It’s sweet, Felix thinks. The way he earnestly watched them with such attention. The way their music captured him, casted a spell on him and he willingly gave in. He looks so alive, so ardent. It’s contagious and Felix smiles back, small at first, wider then. His smile grows with Dimitri’s fervor, grows till Dimitri’s breath hitches and he stops the cascade of memories, stares at Felix instead – the way he stared when Felix was still up on stage, singing his heart out.

Why did he stop talking? Felix raises a brow in question, but Sylvain interrupts their stupor. He throws Felix’s jacket over him and invites Dimitri to grab a bite with them.

They end up at an Almyran place, a cozy little hangout where young people shove in some late-night snack. The lady behind the counter hurtles from customer to customer and shouts orders to the cook at the back. Ingrid takes over the order and goes all out, organizing a giant platter with falafel, halloumi, shawarma and shish kebab for them to share. Since the place is so crowded, they only find a small table where they sit side by side, shoulder against shoulder. Dimitri is still very regal, very polite and very accommodating, trying hard to make himself smaller when his broad build doesn’t allow him. His laughter is a bit restrained, small and breathy – a bit too polite and it’s not until Annette chimes in, telling a story about a clumsy mishap of hers…

Dimitri laughs. Full. Brimming with happiness. The laughter shakes his shoulder, his chest and-

The falafel in Felix’s mouth falls back onto the platter.

“You’re so disgusting!” Ingrid hisses at him.

True, it’s a bit disgusting and he doesn’t know how he is suddenly chewing on the falafel again, only faintly understands that the crooked line on Glenn's face is a smirk, ignores the knowing look Sylvain shoots him while he shoves his elbow into Dimitri’s ribs who only laughs more.

The background noise zones out and only Dimitri remains, Dimitri who still tries and fails to catch his breath, tries to cover his mouth with a hand, gives up and brushes strands of hair out of his face.

Out of his beautiful face which gleams with joy.

Felix gets Dimitri’s number by the end of the day and he makes sure Dimitri saves his number, too.

***

Ethereal Moon

***

Felix writes Dimitri. At first casually, sporadically; for example, when Ingrid and Sylvain went on a date and Annette and Ashe were occupied, too. Basically, when there is nothing better to do, he writes Dimitri.

Over time they write more often, even meet up once in a while. To watch a movie. To grab a tea or coffee.

At the end of Ethereal Moon, they write each other daily – short messages about Felix’s practice or Dimitri’s particularly annoying clients. They allow each other a glimpse of their daily life and share these mundane moments. Writing more leads to meeting more and Felix finds himself at a patisserie when he doesn’t even like sweets.

His little fork clatters against the plate.

“What?” Felix looks up at Dimitri with wide eyes, heart beating faster than Ingrid massacring her drums.

“I said, I like you,” Dimitri says. Eyes darting at Felix, darting at his own hands, before he starts to fidget. A shy smile plays with his lips. He shifts in his seat.

Dimitri actually has guts Felix has to admit. He didn’t expect him to be able to express his feelings, especially not so soon. It’s something that Felix himself struggles with more often than not. One of the things he has a hard time to conquer, tries and gets frustrated and resorts to music when words fail him.

Dimitri has guts. And Felix takes people who give it their all serious.

“Thank you,” he says. He picks up his fork again and pokes at his mille feuille. “I… I’ll think about it and let you know.”

***

Guardian Moon

***

Felix likes the beast. He isn’t in love with him. For that he doesn’t know enough about him, but he likes the way the beast immerses in his music, indulges in the moment and lives for the electricity making the air feel static.

Felix doesn’t know how he feels about Dimitri, knows that Dimitri surprises him, startles him, stuns him when Felix doesn’t expect it. His assumption that Dimitri liked the Beast was wrong. Dimitri likes Felix. And Dimitri means more excitement than Felix expected when he saw him first – more than Felix wanted to give him credit for.

There are a few things Felix likes about Dimitri.

His laughter for one. Throaty and deep, resonating with his heart like a bass.

His mirth for another. The way it tingles with mischief, teasing Felix and Felix likes it, likes the glint in Dimitri’s eyes – will never admit it, however.

They meet up again. The air is cold and sharp. When they exhale, they see each other’s breath forming soft clouds in the air. Felix shivers with the cold seeping through his boots. The snow crunches below every step, softening their walk up the hill while children are screaming on their way down.

Dimitri pulls a sleigh after him.

“I haven’t gone sledding ever since I was ten,” Felix has written Dimitri after Ashe told him, he went sledding with his little brothers – just to write something, a thought that innocuously came to his mind.

“My parents still have one in their basement. Let’s go sledding on Saturday,” Dimitri replied, and Felix felt a skip in his heart. Ingrid pulled the phone out of his hand, lips pulled into a stern line, free hand pointing at his guitar. They were at practice and had a competition to win, however, Felix recently got sidetracked too often for Ingrid’s taste and to Sylvain’s amusement.

“Mister, we’ve got lots of practice to do.”

Felix doesn’t slack off at practice. He performs even better when he is excited, and he did feel excited at the prospect of sledding. He felt excited, and also a bit embarrassed. After all he was looking forward to something as childish as sledding. Therefore, he didn’t tell anyone that he goes sledding on Saturday, with Dimitri no less.

It feels a little forbidden because he kept it a secret and he feels a little ridiculous to think of something as innocuous as sledding as forbidden. Maybe he’ll tell them later, though, only if it was nice.

And it absolutely is.

They scream like any other child, dig their heals into the snow to curve down the hill. They’re insatiable, running up the hill to slide down again. Their time is filled with laughter. The cold air feels sharp in their lungs, but it cannot stop them. Dimitri’s arms sling around him, hold him tight when their sleigh picks up speed, when Felix’s heart picks up speed. Heat rises to his cheeks and it’s his luck that he sits at the front and the wind cools-

They scream and fly off the sleigh, tumbling into the snow, rolling down the tiny rest of the hill. It’s a tangle of arms and legs that arrives at the bottom as sweet laughter fills the space between them.

Felix lies in the snow. Some of it has crept inside his scarf, ice cold against his neck. Bits of snow are melting in his hair and he shivers, glancing up. Dimitri hovers above him, smiles at him as drops of molten snow glisten in his hair.

“I like you, too.” The words leave his mouth so naturally as if they are meant to be said. As if they are meant to be directed at Dimitri who widens his eyes, stares back at him in wonder. In awe. His hand caresses Felix's cheek, careful and soft, and Felix closes his eyes, leaning against it.

“May I kiss you?”

His eyes flutter open, gaze at the blue eyes above him. He feels warm despite all the snow around him. Loves the way Dimitri always surprises him and says: “Do it.”

It’s not Felix’s first kiss, neither his second nor his third. But it’s the first one which is so gentle, so careful that Felix wants to glare because he doesn’t need to be approached with caution but with attack. He presses up against Dimitri to signal him to go harder, slings an arm around his neck to pull him closer, but Dimitri leans back, evading him.

Felix breaks apart, inhales sharp and shoots Dimitri a glare.

“Kiss me like you mean it,” he wants to say.

But it dies on his tongue when he sees Dimitri’s eyes: Dark pupils through golden lashes, deep, bottomless; Felix forgets what he wants to say, forgets himself in them. Glance so intense that Felix’s cheeks warm.

Coyness fills him when he presses his lips together, but he can’t turn away his gaze.

To look into someone’s eyes is a revelation and a journey. You see emotions and feelings, fate and history. You can see what kind of person stands before you and Felix sees affection so deep and infatuation so embracing that he wonders: What does Dimitri see?

Vulnerability is terrifying. The courage to bare yourself, to allow yourself to fall. But terror means a challenge and Felix can’t back down, won’t back down, so he looks back; two mirrors sink into each other.

When they kiss again, it is still soft, still tender – like the snow slowly falling and gracing the ground. It’s so different from the experiences Felix had before, allows him to take the time to feel, the time to take in every little detail. Like the way every chap of Dimitri’s lips brush against his own. Or the way his lashes tingle against his cheek.

In movies those kisses looked endlessly boring. When he saw people kissing like this in the streets, he thought they were awfully prude. No heat, no passion, agonizingly slow. Those kisses felt like they missed the point of kissing, didn’t understand that love is a fight and only the weak back down.

But here he is, letting himself be caressed, be cradled, and he finds, he enjoys the depth of it – the depth of emotion rather than of touch.

This is a first. It’s exciting and Felix smiles against Dimitri’s lips.

***

Pegasus Moon

***

Their first kiss didn’t become their last one. It was only the little snowball which turned into an avalanche because it is exactly this kind of force which knocks Felix off his feet after winning the Blue Lions Awards.

His voice fills every corner of the stadium. The sound reverberates and echoes back to him. When Felix opens his eyes, light sticks glow like a sea of fireflies, dancing in the dark.

Sometimes immersing in music is like walking in trance. His focus zooms in on tunes and on feelings so that everything else passes by like a movie where he watches and merely observes.

In moments like these where the world becomes trifling and all that matters is the present, his voice grows, and his play carries the audience.

Winning the awards is easy, but the next thing takes him by surprise.

His feet dangle in the air. He gasps, bracing himself against broad shoulders. Two arms sling around his waist and spin him like a swing ride.

“You did it, Felix!” Dimitri laughs, so full and bright, his chest vibrates against his knees. A blush creeps onto his face. How did he end up here? He looks down into the sun and-

Oh.

How could he have missed?

The cold Farghun winter days covered Dimitri in layers of wool and linen. Scarves draped around him like a ribbon around a present. His choice of clothes is dull for Felix’s taste. Wide shirts, he is wearing for work and loose cloth pants which gift him an air of regality.

But now that Felix looks down, right into his cleavage…

This man is packed.

Winter can’t leave faster. It shall leave and make room for summer to melt away those unnecessary layers of fabric and Felix’s face starts to glow with an intensity which makes the spotlights in the stadium look pale.

Dimitri looks up to him, a smile as gentle as the first sunrays of spring, melting Felix’s heart.

He brings a necklace box into his sight.

“Happy birthday, Felix.”

***

Lone Moon

***

In retrospect… what’s so great about big muscles? Felix groans as he scrapes the frost off Dimitri’s car windows.

“I’m really sorry.” Dimitri scratches at his chin. “I’m afraid I’ll carve scratches into the glass.”

That’s just ridiculous. Felix huffs and continues to free the car off its coat of ice. Spring always takes its sweet time to grace Faerghus with actual warmth and light. Lone Moon is still cold and only barely manages to keep Felix’s toes from freezing. And here he is, clearing Dimitri’s windshield because said man is too ridiculously strong to do it by himself.

“How do you usually get the ice off?”

“I use a defroster spray.”

“So, why am I doing this?”

“It’s bad for the environment.”

Felix grimaces. All this work just to see his flat. It’s been five moons since they first met, two moons since they started dating and Felix has yet to see how Dimitri lives. Is he as tidy and orderly as he appears in public? Or is he actually a mess? The way a person furnishes their own four walls can tell a lot about the person and Felix is quite eager to get to know what side of Dimitri his flat will uncover, maybe some interesting hobby or unique skill.

His hand taps against the arm rest during the ride to Dimitri’s home. They have spent the whole day at a studio in the outer parts of Fhirdiad. It was a day full of practice and unfortunately administrative work, too, but now he can finally get a glimpse into Dimitri’s life. Furthermore, they plan to prepare cordon bleu together and to be frank… after a day’s work Felix’s stomach is turning and churning and ready to get meat into his system.

“So, this is where you live.” Felix peeks out of the car once they arrive. His gaze wanders down the streets. They are near the old town in the historical part of the city where the streets wound through the district, interlaced like a maze. It’s not the prettiest part of the city. Upper middle class usually lives on the eastern side where new buildings were built. Here, the area is noisy, houses are small, and their facades are littered with graffiti. “I thought… you could afford more.”

“Ah, well…” Dimitri unbuckles his seatbelt. “I quite enjoy the charm of the old town. My parents also live in this area. It’s where I grew up.”

“I see. That’s nice.” It’s quite rare to meet Fhirdiad locals. The capital is full of hipsters who moved here but, well… Felix is one of those people changing the cultural landscape of the city, so who is he to talk? “Show me around in your hood sometime.”

“Sure!” Dimitri nods and they make their way into the building. The interior is so typical for an old building in Fhirdiad, starting from the squeaking stairs clad in worn down carpet over to the names on the doorbell nameplates hinting at residents with all sorts of backgrounds to the humming of the light bulbs. It’s such a cheesy building but it already feels so telling of what kind of person Dimitri is.

“I have to apologize. I didn’t manage to find the time to properly clean my apartment. I hope it’s still acceptable.”

Obviously, Dimitri is the type of person who says they didn’t manage to clean and then have a spotless apartment anyways. Felix just snorts when he walks in, glances around and takes in the sight. It’s definitely cleaner than his place which is drowning in cat hair. The furniture doesn’t look too special, probably one-to-one copied out of a catalogue, though, there are a few accents, like the photos of family and friends on the pin wall or the framed map on the wall showcasing star constellations.

“You do star gazing?”

“Oh, star gazing? Well…” Dimitri glances at the map. “I enjoy hiking and camping and a friend of mine is very well-versed with stars. She’s got a lot of stories about them to tell… What about you?” He turns to him. “Do you like the stars?”

“Hm, I don’t really care about them.” He shrugs. They’ve always been just there, up in the sky, far, far away, doing their own thing.

Dimitri tilts his head. Dimples appear on his cheeks. “They’re quite fascinating. Once it is warmer, let’s go camping… But for now!” He gestures at a door and guides Felix into his kitchen. “We should prepare our dinner. You’ve worked a lot today.”

Dimitri walks over to the fridge to get the ingredients needed for the cordon bleu and places them on the counter. “I hope it’s fine that I bought blue cheese. I quite enjoy this type.” He flashes a toothy smile and Felix looks away, stares at the ingredients, instead.

“Sure,” he says and grabs the chicken to start preparing. The recipe they’ve chosen is quite easy to follow and within a few minutes the schnitzel is thrown into the oven. Dimitri gives him a tour around the flat while they wait as it isn’t too big anyway. The bedroom is fairly small, furnished in a functional manner. The living room has… a few more interesting things in it.

“You play the piano?” Felix perks up. Pianos are quite nice.

“Ah, uhm. I do… as a pastime.” Dimitri rubs his neck before he glances at the ground. “I don’t play particularly well… I’ve received the feedback that my play is nothing special… Actually, even that it- That it’s shit.”

“What?” Felix frowns. “Who would say such a thing?” Even if it’s true? Why would anyone say it to his face? If one thing became clear over the past few moons, it’s the fact that Dimitri is a gentle giant who shouldn’t be faced with such cruel words. “Play for me later. Why would anyone tell you that you’re bad at something you do for fun? I want to hear for myself.”

“Oh.” Dimitri takes a step back. “It’s really not worth listening to. I mean, you’re such a talented musician-”

“Don’t try to butter me up. You’ll play. After dinner.”

Dimitri glances away. His hand fidgets with the cuff of his shirt. “I doubt you will enjoy it.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“I- I do…”

Felix huffs. “Then it’ll be good. If you have fun, I’ll have, too. I’m your boyfr-”

Dimitri stares at him with brows drawn up to the ceiling, mouth agape in a wondrous “oh”.

For a second Felix frowns. The next his face goes up in flames.

“Goddess, stop staring! I’m just saying, I’ll support you.” His hands rake over his face. “It’s no big deal.”

It is, though. Because Dimitri is a sap. He walks over and fastens his arms around Felix’s waist. With a little tug he has pulled them into a tight embrace, crushing the air out of Felix’s lungs, who just gasps, while Dimitri smooches his cheek against the crown of Felix’s hair. “Thank you, love. I’ll play Rachmaninoff for you.”

“Sure,” he croaks, blushing for more than one reason. “Release me.”

“Oh, of course!” Dimitri lets go of him, steadying him by his shoulder. Seriously, in retrospect what’s so great about a hulk? Felix coughs, inhales sharp and-

Ah.

The savory smell of baked meat wafts from the kitchen, infusing his chest with warmth. Finally, it is time to eat.

They settle down in the kitchen with their cordon bleus and a zesty salad which Dimitri prepared. The feeling of cutting into the meat and watching bacon and cheese ooze out of the gaping hole is so immensely satisfying that Felix has to sigh. The fragrance of meat wrapped in more meat which in turn is wrapped in breading is definitely one of his favorites.

“Don’t you think, this is quite like us?” Dimitri points at their dinner.

“Hm?” Felix muffles through the chunk of chicken in his mouth.

“Well, you like meat and I like cheese.” His gaze turns soft as a bashful smile appears on his lips. “I feel like this is a nice metaphor for us.”

Well, what the fuck. Is he joking? Is this a joke?

Felix coughs, shakes his head with vigor. “Goddess, I didn’t hear that.” He picks up the bowl of salad and shoves it into Dimitri’s face. “Eat. And don’t say that again.”

A chuckle shakes Dimitri’s shoulders, but he takes the bowl anyway, and they continue the rest of their dinner with less disturbing chatter.

“Please, take a seat.” Dimitri pulls over a chair and places it next to his piano. “And let me know when you want me to stop.” His lips are pulled back into a forced smile. He fidgets again.

“It’s fine.” Felix bites his lip. It’s a bit worrying that Dimitri doesn’t want to trust him with his hobby.

Dimitri returns a nod and takes a seat at the piano. He places a hand onto the keys, fingertips just gracing them. Before he starts, he takes one last look at Felix and-

Every keystroke rings through his body, drives his journey through the motives of the piece. His fingers dance over the keyboard like birds enjoying the first breeze of spring. It’s not just his hands which elicit the tunes out of the instrument, not just his fingers which lure the melody out of their lair. His whole body rises and ebbs, sings alongside the tunes and gives life to the strings. He sways with the piano, vibrates and glows with the allegro.

He is a magician drawing out the charm of Rachmaninoff’s most memorable piece, casting a spell and opening the doors to a world of harmonies, pulling them through the forest of movements and rushing them to the top of the mountain.

When the grand climax washes over them, Felix sits beside him, chases the triumphant finale with him and when the last tone evaporates in the air, the magic starts to fade, he leans against Dimitri’s shoulder.

“This was amazing. I loved it.”

Whoever told him this was shit has no taste.

“Are you sure?” Dimitri wavers. “I… I am glad you liked it.”

Goddess, Felix will kill whoever hurt him like that. “I’m sure… Come on.” He turns his head to lean up, pressing their lips together.

***

Great Tree Moon

***

Dimitri’s apartment has many perks. The best of all? They have privacy. Dimitri can say all the embarrassing things he wants, and nobody will ever live to see Felix’s face when Dimitri has conjured yet another egregious metaphor.

“Goddess, no.” He presses his hand against Dimitri’s face, pushing him away from his hovering position above him. “Can you not?” His other hand covers his face, hiding the flush creeping to his cheeks. “Why do you ruin the mood like this?”

Dimitri laughs. “Oh, I am kind of used to this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ah.” He chuckles. “Well, I feel like I already know you for a long time. Glenn often tells stories about you. Very endearing ones.”

“Endearing ones,” Felix repeats. He averts his gaze and glances at the coffee table. “You’re used to embarrassing me.”

“Exactly.”

Felix covers his face with his hands. Glenn will definitely have to pay for this. It’s his fault that he started to date a guy who compares their relationship to cordon bleu. And his brother had the gall to wheeze when he told him. Wheeze!

With a small tug, Dimitri coaxes his hands away from his face and returns to their previous endeavor.

It doesn’t take long for Felix to melt into the couch again, sharing kisses, both hot and gentle. The feeling of Dimitri’s lips on his has become as familiar as playing the guitar. They hum and sigh through their little moments of sweetness and fill the room in a quite different melody compared to Dimitri’s passionate piano play. It’s very tame to tell the truth, a bit stifled even because Dimitri is shy. He will hold back when Felix tugs at his lips, licks over the chaps. Dimitri is careful with the way he moves, careful in the way he kisses and he never does anything before looking Felix in the eye, two blue orbs framed in gold. Felix could never resist and lets him pass, kisses him and holds onto his broad shoulders, rakes his fingers through his luscious hair, deepens their kiss and Dimitri growls-

Felix blinks and glances at Dimitri, his voice suddenly husky and dark like molten chocolate, a layer of velvet embracing his mind. There is a distant familiarity but right here, right now it’s insignificant.

So, that’s what he sounds like in the bedroom, low and vibrant and Felix wants more and holds him tighter and bites his bottom lip.

***

Harpstring Moon

***

“This is so cheesy.” Felix huffs. Dimitri just told him the story about the King’s Right Hand – the constellation at the night sky which took Felix eternities to find.

“If anything, it’s sweet.” Dimitri gifts him the smile he shares with him so often. They’re sitting on a trunk, staring at the stars while their campfire smolders, turning bananas from yellow to black.

It’s the first time Felix goes camping. The nights are still a bit fresh but that also means less bugs will bother them. Also, they have each other to keep warm.

“He’s totally turning you into a softie.” Sylvain has said, chuckling to himself.

“Who would have thought,” Ingrid has said, “that Felix could be tamed like this.”

Fools.

Felix cuddles into Dimitri’s side, tugging the blanket which wraps them like a burrito tighter.

What’s so bad about softness and warmth? Before, thrill meant action, never-ending change and unsurmountable challenges. But Felix’s world is growing; his horizon widens.

Change and steadiness aren’t at odds with each other. With Dimitri grounding him, holding him, he can reach heights he could have never reached before, wouldn’t even have seen.

“Thank you,” Felix says, and Dimitri kisses the crown of his head.

***

Garland Moon

***

“My brother’s band will perform in two moons. We should go together.” Felix’s legs dangle over the edge of the truck bed. He waves at a few fans walking beside the truck, rainbow flags flying behind them like wings.

“Oh, that…” Dimitri scratches his neck. “I won’t have time.”

“Huh?” Felix frowns. “How do you know? You don’t even know when it is.”

“Ah! I do know… Your brother. He already invited me, but I won’t be able to make it.”

“Hm…” Felix tilts his head. The corners of his lips drop. “You’ve been busy. I’ve barely seen you…”

“Well, I… There was a lot of work and… it will last till Verdant Rain Moon.” He lets his gaze roam over the masses of people. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’ll spend more time with you after- No. Actually, I really try to spend every free minute I have with you.” He pulls his phone out of his pant pocket. “This reminds me, I’ve been meaning to invite you to my parents’ place”

Felix groans. “I want to spend time with you, not your parents.”

“I will obviously join, too.”

“Of course! You can’t send me to your parents alone.”

“Great! How about next moon?” He beams at him.

Dimitri can be unbelievable sometimes. He rakes a hand over his face. “Do I have to go?”

“You don’t, but… I would appreciate it.”

He sighs. “Fine…” Are they really at a stage where he has to meet his parents? He pushes himself up from his seat on the ground and lets his eyes wander over the people walking next to the vehicle, cheering and smiling with colorful flags worn as capes.

Pride has become so commercialized in recent years. A lot of big companies bring their trucks and trail the parade. Among the people are quite a few who use this as an excuse to get drunk on the streets, however, it’s not impossible to blend out those who only feel superficially connected to this event. It's still nice to see the smiling people who laugh together in a place where they can be who they are. People listen to music, some even dance as they march on towards Loog’s Square, passing the Kyphon Gate. He smiles at that, thinking back to the story of the King’s Right Hand.

“We’ll perform in a few minutes,” he says. It’s kind of redundant because Dimitri knows. He’s here specifically to see them. Though, Dimitri was also a bit excited to be able to stand on one of the pride trucks and watch the people.

He reaches his hand out to Dimitri and pulls him up, grabs his guitar and turns towards Ingrid and Sylvain who are already taking in their positions as the moderator announces them to the crowd. A cheer sweeps over the sea of colors, flags wave in the wind and phones flash photos of them when Ingrid starts their opening speech, announcing their first songs and their reason for being here.

When their music blasts through the speakers, the cheer and screams mix with the sound.

Performing at a parade isn’t something they do every day. The energy has a different ring; the smiles and the movements of the people have another purpose. Where people want to be carried away into another world when they perform at a club or a stadium, the people here are marching for a cause, a reason so deeply entwined with who they are and the support they give is of a nature which speaks from connection, from shared experiences and from a wish which needs to be carried into here, into now, into the present of each and everyone.

Sylvain picks the microphone and shares his story of searching, of finding, of grounding himself. Nobody can dictate who one is, nobody can dictate how one loves. The reason they can walk here just like this is because people have fought. And it’s true. Love may not be a fight anymore, but it wasn’t always like this.

Felix’s hand glides over the strings of his guitar. Every single note vibrates in his heart. When he looks up and sings, voice mingling with the laughter and chatter, he sees the arch of the Kyphon Gate bridging over them, crossing their path. The emblem of House Fraldarius shines next to the Blaiddyd crest, both carved into the sandstone, immortalized for all eternity. It’s so unremarkable in the way it’s always been there. So present that it fades into the background of consciousness. However, now on this day, it’s proof of something more.

When Felix picks the microphone from the mic stand, he glances over to Dimitri and smiles. He tells the crowd about the story of Kyphon and Loog, of star-crossed lovers whom historians tried to eradicate. Though, love does not falter even in the face of history; their love will last forever and more.

His cheeks warm from the heat of summer and from the warmth of his own words. The crowd peers at him, glimpses at the gate and drift their gaze to the victory column at Loog’s Square.

Fingers curl around his hand, squeezing his palm gently. When he looks up, it’s Dimitri smiling at him, expression full of affection. Fond as if it isn’t their first time falling in love, so dear as if they have loved each other for lifetimes, so sincere that Felix has to admit to himself that this is no mere crush: He is in love.

His heart hammers in his chest, faster than Ingrid could ever hit her drums. He purses his lips, squeezes back and turns to the microphone again.

“The last song…” Warmth coils in his chest. His cheeks bloom in the summer sun. “From a Fraldarius to a Blaiddyd.”

***

Blue Sea Moon

***

“Are you sure?” Felix bites his lip. He fiddles with the seam of the shirt which he is wearing but doesn’t own – Ashe has borrowed it to him.

“Yes, my parents don’t mind what you look like. You really don’t need to feign anything.” Dimitri holds a hand out to him which he takes. When Felix just nods, he rings the doorbell.

He has toned down on the piercings and accessories he usually wears. His choker lies at home on his desk and his bangles and rings are in the box which Annette gifted him. He’s only wearing the necklace Dimitri gave him, dangling around his neck. Otherwise… he kind of feels naked without his usual attire.

“Hello?” comes from the intercom.

“Mother, it’s Felix and me.”

“Oh! Come in!”

Brzzzzzzzz.

Dimitri pushes the door open and guides Felix to a house in the backyard. When they reach the Blaiddyd family’s flat, Dimitri’s parents already stand there.

“Hello Felix! Dimitri!” His mother beams. “Welcome. Please, come in, it’s so good to see you.”

Dimitri pushes him into the apartment. They slip out of their shoes and walk into the living room where his parents have prepared some snacks.

“So, you are the famous Felix.” Dimitri’s father darts him a smile, the corner of his eyes crinkle and his cheeks dent in a similar fashion to Dimitri. “Our son told us a lot about you and we’re happy to finally get to know who stole our son’s heart.”

Felix swallows and glances to Dimitri. Stole, huh? What exactly did he tell his parents? Hopefully, none of Glenn’s stories!

“It’s nice to meet you, too.”

His parents nod.

Silence.

Aaaaaaahhhhhh.

What’s he supposed to say?! Is he supposed to tell them everything about himself? Is this a background check? Dealing with parents is the worst. His last partner ditched him when his parents didn’t like him. That asshole. He bites his lip again and glances back to Dimitri. Shouldn’t he have stuff to tell his parents?

Dimitri clears his throat. “Mh, my parents wanted to meet you for a while now. They’re quite intrigued by your music.”

“Ah, yes,” his father pipes up. “Your music is quite catchy! We listen to it while we clean our flat.”

…

Was this supposed to be a compliment?

Felix forces out a laugh. “I’m glad you enjoy it.” Goddess, this is so awkward.

“Oh, we do! You have a lovely voice,” his mother says. Her features light up. “It’s very different from our Dima’s singing voice.”

“Huh? Is it?” He turns to Dimitri who jerks away. “I haven’t heard you sing before.”

“Ah, it- it’s not worth listening to.”

“You said the same about your piano play and it’s great.”

“Mh…” He grimaces. “I can’t really sing.”

His parents frown at him but don’t press further. Instead, they turn their attention back to Felix. His father points at the snacks and asks him about his hometown. They listen with wide eyes and nodding heads while Felix elaborates how Sylvain talked them into starting their own band and shares the ups and the downs which came along their road. They’re lucky that they ended up in Fhirdiad where they can soak in the culture and contribute to the music scene.

Dimitri’s parents are surprisingly interested in what he has to share. They ask questions and share their own perspectives on music and even give him suggestions on places and people he should reach out to.

They’re clearly knowledgeable about music and something… is off.

“Sing for me.” He tugs at Dimitri’s sleeve. They are back in Dimitri’s apartment. The other just darts away, fidgeting with his hands.

“I- It’s really not something you should-“

“Did someone say your singing sucks? Who dares to insult you anyway?”

“Ah, well…” Dimitri knits his brows, glances to the ground. “It’s… justified criticism I suppose.”

“It’s not.” He takes Dimitri’s hand. “Your piano play is beautiful.” He rubs his thumb over the back of Dimitri’s hand. “Please… sing for me.”

Dimitri doesn’t immediately look up. He waits for a bit and then slowly raises his gaze, brows still arched in a plea not to sing, but Felix holds his gaze. He has to hear his voice.

A sigh escapes Dimitri’s chest and he takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes and-

Felix presses his hands against his ears because what. The. Fuck?

“That’s your singing voice?” he croaks out.

“I told you it isn’t good.”

“It- it isn’t bad.” It’s atrocious. Felix grimaces. Wow, good thing Dimitri doesn’t sing in the shower.

***

Verdant Rain Moon

***

“Hmm.” Felix presses his nose into the crown of Dimitri’s hair.

It’s one of those lazy mornings in which everything is calm and quiet. The warm summer breeze tickles Felix’s neck. The linen sheets are cool and soothing against his skin. Dimitri breathes slow and deep, too tired from last night, murmuring to himself in his slumber.

It’s unbelievable how much time has passed since they first met, at one of his brother’s concerts no less. Felix’s cheek brushes against Dimitri’s hair as he sighs away the morning bleariness. The curtains dance above them, filtering the light and throwing dots of white onto them. Felix mindlessly traces those specks wandering up Dimitri’s arm. His fingertips ghost over his skin, centimeter by centimeter, following those specks up to Dimitri’s nape. His leg drapes over Dimitri’s waist; it’s easier to be close this way.

His eyes fall onto the arched line of little dents where Dimitri’s throat connects with his shoulder. A smile curls his lips. It must have hurt, maybe not much but surely a little bit. He places a kiss on that spot, lips gracing marred skin.

Dimitri shifts next to him, turns around slowly and blinks at him through veiled eyes, veiled by strands of his golden hair and morning tiredness. “Good morning, love,” he says, voice heavy and raw. His arms wrap around Felix, holding him even tighter than Felix did. Felix brushes a few strands out of his face, pokes his nose because Dimitri called him love again and no matter how intimate they get, it’s too embarrassing to say, though, it isn’t something Dimitri understands, and for the time being it’s ok that he doesn’t. Dimitri lays his head onto the crook of his arm, smiles at him with his heart and his eyes.

Looking into his eyes, it is hard to grasp why blue eyes were once so repulsive to him. Dimitri’s eyes have the clarity of a clear winter sky and carry the life of his hometown’s ocean. They’re beautiful and they’re the most beautiful when they just lie next to each other, arm in arm, allowing themselves to stay in bed, holding each other close and forgetting the world beyond the comfort of their blanket. Their foreheads meet to narrow their world down to them and only them.

“I love you,” Felix says, and he leans in for a kiss which is met with endless acceptance and care.

“I love you, too,” Dimitri says when they part, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Felix’s chest warms at the sight and he snuggles up against Dimitri.

Mornings like these can last forever, lying in each other’s arms, surrounded by blazing light. Dimitri’s heartbeat is clear in Felix’s ears as his head lies on his chest.

Time progresses and the morning quietness evaporates, and what trickles through the windows are the sounds of tourists roaming the old town, cars rumbling over the cobbled streets and the squeal of the tram rushing by the next intersection.

Felix groans when Dimitri tries to worm himself out of his arms. “Just a little longer…”

“Felix, I’m sorry…” Dimitri tries again to move Felix’s arms. “I’d love to stay with you, but I need to get ready.” He sighs. “Hapi surely won’t be late and if I want to make it in time, I need to leave in ten minutes. I still need to shower and get ready… and get some breakfast.”

Felix grunts but releases Dimitri. “Will you really not make the concert? She might like the music. You know their music is good.”

Dimitri grimaces. He sits up and fishes for the shirt which lies crumpled on the floor, tossed down carelessly the night before. “I… Maybe. I’ve sent her the music before and she said, she likes it.” He slips into the shirt and gets up to search for fresh clothes in his wardrobe. “By the way, about your brother’s band… No, … never mind.” Felix frowns, glancing over to Dimitri who picks out a t-shirt and a pair of black jeans, a lot more casual than his usual office attire. Dimitri turns around and smiles at Felix, walking over to the door. “Have a great day, Felix. I hope to see you tonight.” With that he leaves him alone and a minute later the pattering of water sounds through the flat.

Felix huffs. Dimitri said he would come home late in the night and it’s not like Felix has moved into his flat. He still has responsibilities, and his cat is one of them. He’ll later go back home with Sylvain and Ingrid; Zoltan surely misses him, and Sylvain always does a poor job feeding her. With a sigh he shoves his face into Dimitri’s pillow to take in his lingering scent before he, too, gets ready for the day.

Glenn’s band is the harbinger of chaos. All the pent-up energy from moons of dull office work always results in them pouring all their bottled-up emotions into their music. Sylvain and Ingrid cheer next to Felix, not unlike the crowd surrounding them. People dance, flash smiles and share laughter while Glenn ravages his guitar, Bloody Mary smashes her drums, and the Beast crushes the keys of his keyboard. Their voices fill the room, Glenn’s baritone voice which sometimes hikes up to tenor, Bloody Mary’s rich contralto and the Beast’s low bass, thrumming through everyone’s mark.

It’s a pity they perform so rarely. They’re a hidden gem in Fhirdiad and not many know about them, but those who do love them and are loyal beyond belief. Several familiar faces beam in the crowd, familiar from the past concert and the ones before.

Too soon the concert comes to an end and the crowd dissolves, people moving on to bars, late-night strolls through the city or simply to their homes. Felix, Ingrid and Sylvain head backstage to meet up with Glenn, following the promise of a late-night snack.

Their steps echo through the hallway, though, they are not completely alone. Chatter sounds through the halls and if Felix isn’t mistaken, it is Glenn’s voice which erupts in laughter. He can only hope that his brother isn’t yet again telling someone a ridiculous story about him. His pace speeds up, following the voices, Ingrid and Sylvain just a step behind him, glancing at each other with a shrug.

He shoots around a corner and glares at his brother, immediately blinking and looking up at none other than the Beast, the man he has tried to meet for years but has always been denied. Usually, he is long gone by the time he meets up with his brother and it’s almost surreal to see him and Bloody Mary standing in the hallway illuminated by the fluorescent light, quietly humming their own tune. He has never seen the two of them with such a bright lighting, and for a moment he isn’t sure which information his brain wants to process first. That Bloody Mary has blue hair or that the Beast is blonde or the red-haired woman standing next to them shooting him an unimpressed glance as she raises her brow.

“Didi.” She elbows the Beast. “Is this…?” Her voice trails off as she looks up to the Beast whose eyes are hidden behind his eyepatch and a veil of ruffled hair. Felix’s stomach twists at the sight, an eerie similarity to a certain someone’s hair after a rough make-out session. Though, his name is Didi, right? The Beast shifts in his stance, fidgeting with his fingers. Dimitri always fidgets when he is nervous. Felix bites his lip, his heart suddenly speeding up as his eyes wander up to the Beasts throat which bops as he tries to swallow around a lump. But his Adam’s apple is not exactly what Felix is looking for, instead his gaze glides to the side and familiar bitemarks glare at him as he braces himself against Sylvain.

They’re evenly matched when it comes to playing keyboard, no doubt on that. Their stature is similar, broad shoulders and slim waists, and Dimitri certainly has the strength and stamina to do concerts. His parents are so well-versed in music, knowing the local music scene so closely that they provide him with insider tips. Their hair is the same blonde, the curve of their lips the same arc, the Beast’s deep and husky voice reminiscent of Dimitri’s velvet bedroom voice.

This has to be a joke.

Sylvain shifts behind him, leaning down and he whispers. “Wow, you bite?”

***

Horsebow Moon

***

“You wanted me to introduce you to him.” Glenn shrugs, glancing at his fingernails. “I did my job pretty well.”

“The only thing you did well was fucking me over.” Felix crosses his arms in front of his chest, trying hard to look unbothered by his brother’s massive betrayal and this charade which lasted nearly a year. A whole damn year. “How long did you plan to leave me in the dark? And you!” He points at Dimitri who stares at his spiced mocha, playing around with the little spoon. “Why didn’t you tell me? You even faked your singing. Were you trying to kill my ears?”

They’re in the same patisserie in which Dimitri first confessed to him moons back, just this time Glenn is here, too, grinning broadly because he made a fool out of his little brother, just like the ass he is. Felix huffs and takes a sip of his chamomile tea. He has already apologized to Dimitri about what he said about the Beast. It’s unbelievable that he himself was the reason why Dimitri didn’t want to make music for him. Now that the truth is out all the hints and flags are so glaringly obvious, Felix wants to hole himself up in his bed.

Glenn leans forward, still smiling a broad smile. “Alas, Fe. Of course, we didn’t tell you, it was so fun to see you being clueless.”

Felix shoves his tea away and buries his head in his hands. Great that Glenn had his fun. Really great.

“Felix.” Dimitri taps at his arm to gain his attention, but Felix still keeps his face hidden. “Since when… Since when were you interested in the Beast?”

“Why are you asking now?”

“I… am just curious.”

Felix sighs, finally putting down his hands. “Since the first time I saw you perform. Three years ago.”

Dimitri takes his hand in his own. “Don’t be angry with your brother. I’ve asked him not to tell anyone.” Dimitri looks up to him, gifting him a small smile which Felix reciprocates.

“I know,” Felix says, tilting his head. “I just… I’m stupid.”

“No…” Dimitri shakes his head. “I didn’t make it easy for us. You know? I’ve loved you for three years now.”

Felix blinks, glances up at Dimitri to search for the lie but he doesn’t find one. “Th- that’s.” His cheeks warm as he averts his gaze. “I just moved to Fhirdiad three years ago.”

“That is true, though, I’ve known your music for quite a bit longer. Glenn always shared stories about you and the first time I had the chance to see you on stage, I was in love. You were stunning and beautiful in every aspect.” Dimitri squeezes his hands. “In a way, it is my fault that it took us so long. I didn’t even dare to ask your brother to introduce us.” He tilts his head, cheeks colored in a warm shade of pink. “I’m glad you did.”

Three years.

Felix stares at the steam rising from his cup of tea. Two years before Felix even took note of Dimitri, he already loved him. A warm fuzzy feeling spreads in Felix’s chest. To be loved for such a long time… He raises his gaze from his cup, searching for Dimitri’s eyes. Maybe it isn’t too bad that Glenn didn’t tell him. Maybe only this way he learnt to know Dimitri. Maybe this allowed him to grow and change. “The past year…” He brings a hand to his mouth, unsure where to begin. “I’m so glad to have met you. I- You showed me a lot. I’ve learnt a lot. You always surprised me…” His heart pounds in his chest. “Thank you.”

Dimitri takes his hands again, returning a smile. The mere thought of the years to come makes Felix’s heart flutter, a tingling in his stomach. His past self would have never believed that an office worker could share so many new perspectives with him; he learnt about Dimitri, learnt about himself and they walk together on this journey which never ceases to excite.

Glenn smiles next to them. “Like Cordon Bleu, eh?”