Work Text:
This One's For You
Spirit was half-reclined on his bed when Stein walked into their shared bedroom. Half, because it was nearly impossible to play his guitar properly if he lay flat the way he truly felt like doing. Instead, he had most of both of their pillows shoved up behind his back and up under his elbow so he could lean his head and shoulders against the wall with the guitar nearly flat across his lap, though his legs were crossed to help elevate the neck of the instrument.
He plucked two strings together in harmony, listened to the sound through the amplifier and the way it decayed with the delay setting he'd put on, and then plucked another two in the progression.
The full light of the sunset was blocked from entering the windows by the thick of the trees outside, but the room was still beginning to turn pink from the glow that couldn't ever be fully shut out, and golden pinpricks of light were hitting the wall above Spirit's head where they broke through the foliage.
Spirit glanced up at his partner still standing in the open doorway as he plucked another chord. He took in the tense posture, the stiff set of Stein's jaw. Watched his bright, ever-calculating eyes study his position on the bed before Stein finally reached behind him to push the door closed. The meister's gaze shifted to the window, blinds closed on Stein's half but raised on Spirit's.
Stein crossed the room briskly, pulled the cord to close the rest of the blinds to perhaps five inches—a height that would still allow enough light in as long as the sun was up, but that would block the view of the interior to any passersby.
Stein's hands were empty, and except for the way he was holding himself Spirit couldn't see anything amiss about him to provide evidence as to the meister's seeming sour mood. He shifted up slightly on the pillows and pulled the body of the electric guitar nearer to his stomach as he observed his younger partner.
He plucked another two strings, and Stein turned from where he'd paused at the window.
"Writing another song for some girl?"
There was a bite to his tone that Spirit recognized wasn't truly meant for him. Whatever had upset his meister, he was apparently going to take it out on him rather than talk about it. Which wasn't really a surprise.
Spirit lightly shook his head. "No. Just playing around."
He picked a simple pattern across three strings, and Stein's brow furrowed.
"Can you turn off the delay?"
Spirit couldn't help but smile as he shifted again, leaned forward to flip the switch on the amp at the foot of the bed, and then attempted to get comfortable again.
When he looked back at Stein, the meister's brow had furrowed. It was clear to Spirit that he was looking for a fight, but the weapon was in no mood to give him one. But the alternative, experience had taught Spirit, was that if he didn't provide something then Stein would simply leave and manage his frustrations elsewhere, whatever they were.
Experience had also taught Spirit that more often than not, that didn't end well for either of them.
"Come here."
"What?"
The furrow in Stein's brow deepened and he raised his head just so, so that the overhead light reflected off his glasses and hid his eyes. His jaw had tensed further, and a frown was just visible at the corners of his mouth.
"Come here," Spirit repeated just as gently.
He shifted further upright on the bed, laying the guitar across his lap for a moment to tug up his jeans as he uncrossed his legs and pulled his collared t-shirt back into place, it having become a bit twisted in his relaxation.
Stein looked uncertain, but after a moment he moved forward and crawled up onto the bed to sit next to the weapon. He pressed his back against the wall as he shifted nearer, which Spirit found telling.
He lifted the guitar into Stein's lap.
"Let me show you."
"What? No. I've told you, I don't need to try it to understand how it—"
He cut himself off abruptly as Spirit moved right next to him and set his arms around him, made more difficult by the posture Stein had chosen; Spirit had to wiggle his chest between Stein's back and the wall to get even remotely near enough to aid in the holding of the guitar.
The meister had gone tense and yet pliant as Spirit shifted the guitar to an appropriate angle, took hold of Stein's left hand as his own right hand muted the strings.
"I'll just show you some really basic chords. Here. Third finger, third fret, first string. If you only strum the first four..." Spirit held Stein's finger to the string and then lightly strummed. The processed sound came through the amp, sounding a bit strange pointed away from them and too soft to truly ring through the space. "That's a simple G-chord."
Spirit could feel Stein's heart pounding through his back, no doubt from anxiety at the unexpected contact. But he'd not pulled away. Spirit had learned that sometimes, despite the meister's seeming aversion to touch, it wasn't completely unwelcome. It was simply that he didn't really understand what he wanted.
Stein had no response, visible or otherwise, to the chord that resulted from Spirit's holding his finger to the string.
"Give it a try," Spirit encouraged, lifting Stein's right hand so he could strum the chord.
After a moment, the meister swallowed and blinked into focus. His thumb moved inelegantly over the strings, and the sound bled through the amp.
Spirit let go of his left hand, and Stein's instantly released the string. The remaining echo became discordant.
"You have to hold onto it. Here, this is an easy C. Just four strings again."
He manipulated Stein's fingers into the shape, and this time the younger boy held on when Spirit let go. Spirit strummed the chord, and then moved his hand out of the way. After a moment, Stein's tentatively came up to copy the action.
"And, ah... An E-minor, that's the easiest. First and second fingers, fifth and fourth strings, second fret."
He waited, and Stein slowly copied the instructions to hold the strings down. His brow had furrowed again, and Spirit could feel his heart rate starting to relax.
"There, see? You can play a lot of songs with just three chords. And a capo, haha."
When the minor chord had finished ringing from the amp, Stein carefully slid the guitar toward Spirit.
"You play something."
Spirit's smile tightened in disappointment. "You don't want to give it a try?"
Stein shook his head. But, Spirit noted, whatever frustration the meister had been trying to bury when he entered the room was gone from the bright, green eyes. In its place was a different sort of anxiety that Spirit didn't fully understand, but recognized was something Stein only allowed him to see.
Spirit took the guitar and carefully shifted back into his spot against the pillows. He kept his surprise hidden when Stein followed, kneeling to face him as Spirit got comfortable again and positioned the guitar.
He was about to ask if Stein had any requests, but the meister preempted him.
"Not something you've written for some girl."
Spirit huffed quietly. It was always 'some girl' with the younger teen. He had teased before that Stein would understand soon enough, and his partner had teased right back that his hormones were overactive and that he could probably take something to treat that.
It had been a very awkward end to the conversation when Spirit quipped that he had his own treatment, and Stein hadn't immediately processed the meaning. He'd gotten to it without Spirit spelling it out, but the meister had definitely behaved differently toward him since then, Spirit suddenly realized. He supposed Stein really was still just too young for that sort of thing.
"Why not?" he couldn't help but ask.
Some of the anger rose again behind Stein's eyes. "Because they're not important."
"I work hard on those—"
"You're usually on to the next girl in less than a month. So the songs can't really mean that much."
Spirit's lips had parted in surprise, and he held the annoyed gaze of his meister. There was more Stein wanted to say, he could tell. Everything in his posture and eyes and the renewed set of his jaw spoke of frustration.
Spirit was disappointed that his attempts at soothing his partner had backfired, but it was momentarily forgotten as irritation mingled with the guilt Stein's words had stirred deep in his soul.
"Do you even remember them?"
The accusation cut even harder, and Spirit wondered if Stein meant the songs or the girls. His brow furrowed in defiance even as he realized that for both, and for most, the answer was no.
"How can you care so little about something?"
It would be an insult to think Stein meant the songs with that question. Not that it was impossible, but, based on the absolute ice that was touching the meister's voice, Spirit knew otherwise.
It wasn't that he didn't care... It was that they just weren't really looking for a relationship. Neither him, nor the girls he flirted with. It was something mutually understood that didn't even need to be spoken. They were just teenagers having a good time, after all. It's what teenagers do. Stein was just too young to understand.
He took a long, slow breath and closed his eyes as he realized he'd been frowning so hard that his forehead hurt. It wasn't Stein's fault. He was only seeing things in the way he knew how. He would understand someday. And then, Spirit could tease Stein about his girlfriends and remind him about how he had been so sure it was a waste of time. It would be something they could laugh about together.
His mood resolved, he sighed and opened his eyes to reply. But then his lips parted again when he saw Stein.
The meister had dug his fingers into Spirit's blankets and had his eyes tightly closed, head downcast as he scowled at whatever was in his mind. Spirit bit his lip, and then turned the guitar volume down before reaching out to gently touch Stein's shoulder.
"Hey..."
Stein didn't pull away, but Spirit felt rather than saw the sudden hitch in Stein's breath at the contact.
"It's not..." he began softly, unsure what had Stein suddenly so upset. "It's not that I don't care. I do. But they only care so much, too. They care the same amount that I do. It's just...not anything serious."
Stein looked up. His eyes were bright with unshed tears, and Spirit's stomach swirled in unease. Whatever anxiety Stein had come back to their room with that Spirit had been trying to help him forget, he'd clearly made much worse. And he wasn't sure what to do now that Stein had turned his stress fully against him.
"Why are you okay with it?" Stein finally hissed on a single breath, immediately clamping his jaw closed again as he struggled to regain control of his emotions.
Spirit puzzled over the question. He thought he'd just answered that. It was mutually understood between he and anyone he pursued that it was just casual.
"I thought..."
Spirit focused on Stein's face again.
"I thought you were better than that."
Spirit frowned. Stein wasn't anyone to suddenly come in and be his moral judge. Not with the things he did, the worse things he imagined doing...
It must have shown on Spirit's face, because Stein suddenly scoffed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Spirit was quick however, not even watching the fall of the guitar as he reached up and gripped the boy's arms, halting his escape before he'd even stood up.
"Stein!" he said. The meister tensed under his hold.
He wanted to be angry. He wanted to tell Stein that it was none of his business what he did with any girls. But he knew that couldn't really be what was bothering his young friend, and getting to the bottom of that was far more important. He slowly let out a breath, let his fire cool again.
"Stein. It's okay, I promise you. They're okay with it. There's nothing wrong with any of it..."
Stein tensed further, and Spirit frowned quizzically.
"Why do you care, anyway?"
The only reply was silence.
Spirit watched the taut muscles of his partner's neck, watched as he barely breathed under the weapon's hold. A golden-pink light from the window was reflecting off the front of Spirit's guitar, heralding the sun's departure.
The moments passed, and Spirit started slowly turning his thumbs in circles against the tight muscles of Stein's shoulders.
"Just play your guitar, Spirit," Stein said hoarsely.
Anger forgotten, Spirit's chest ached as he realized Stein had begun crying. What was truly upsetting his partner? Was it something he had done?
"Only if you stay."
It was a feeble plea, as Spirit knew Stein didn't really care for his guitar playing one way or another. And apparently, given his opinion on Spirit's usual endeavors with it, he probably disliked it entirely.
Silence again. Spirit watched the light on the windowsill slowly change to amber, dust floating through its beams.
"Then let go of me."
Spirit let go, banking on Stein keeping his word, and grabbed up the guitar from where it had fallen on the bed.
"Come back here."
Spirit watched as Stein reached up and took off his glasses, wiped his face with his sleeve, and then slowly turned back around on the bed and tucked his feet under him. His expression was as flat as he could make it, given the circumstances, but in his eyes Spirit still saw that anxiety that only he was permitted to see.
"Just... Relax," Spirit said, even as he couldn't help but frown.
The conversation had unnerved him, and as he continued unnecessarily shifting around for comfort, he couldn't think of a single thing to play.
He heard Stein sniff, and when he glanced up the meister was wearing a rarely-seen expression of distress that he rapidly hid away again behind the impassivity he preferred to show the world.
Spirit considered the issue as he tried to think of something to play: why would Stein care about his dates? It wasn't like he ever brought them back to their place. They were never in Stein's way...
Spirit's eyes widened as he slowly sucked in a breath.
Was that the problem?
He always came back at night—most nights. But with as much time as he spent taking girls out, he barely even did his homework lately. He supposed that outside of class and their extracurricular assignments, he really...hadn't been spending much time with Stein.
Had Stein been surprised to find him at home that evening?
A different guilt had Spirit's stomach turning with that revelation. He leaned back on the pillows and after adjusting the volume set his fingers to the guitar strings, decisively shaping a chord. And then as an afterthought, he stretched one foot toward the amp and pushed the corner of it so it turned on its dolly and wasn't facing entirely away from them.
Stein was watching him, his glasses folded in one hand but face as still as stone. Spirit began plucking out a practiced melody, suddenly self conscious about singing, and hoped it could at least be a beginning to an apology he realized now was necessary. Part of him still wanted to argue that Stein would be no different in a few years, but that didn't absolve him of the hurt he had apparently caused in the present.
He shifted his attention to the song, picking out each note with precision as he tried to work up the courage to sing. He had never been nervous around Stein with this sort of thing before, but the sudden realization that his every action of late was being watched and judged had him uncertain how his partner would respond.
"Are you making this up?" Stein asked suddenly.
"What? No," Spirit said, brow furrowing.
"I haven't heard it before."
Spirit sighed.
"I don't play this one in front of you."
Spirit watched as familiar curiosity began to rise in Stein's eyes despite the anxiety and the hurt, and he shifted back again as he focused on adding more complexity to his playing, strumming the chords before picking out the melodic lines.
Stein shifted too, reaching back to turn the amplifier the rest of the way to face the bed and then set his glasses on top of it.
"This one is different."
Spirit didn't look up, intent now on getting the song exactly right.
"This one is more interesting."
Spirit pursed his lips as a mixture of pride and affection started silencing the disquiet in his head.
"Ah... I hope so. I've been working on it for months."
He looked up and paused in the middle of the progression, letting a suspension chord ring out.
Stein was looking at him in yet another way Spirit had never been able to make sense of despite the years he'd had to try to understand. He had looked at him that way the very first day they'd met, and sometimes would even stop mid-conversation to just stare at him, usually after something Spirit had said; it was something deeper than curiosity, but seeming just as without explanation to even the meister as it was to his weapon. For awhile it had been unnerving, but Spirit knew at least there was no ill intent behind it. And whatever it meant, it was yet another expression that Stein reserved only for him.
Now, his attention was pulled away from Stein's wide, searching eyes to the way the rosy-orange beams of the sunset were making the edges of his hair seem to glow around his face. Spirit reached forward and Stein's focus instantly shifted, following the motion of his hand, but he didn't shy away when Spirit feathered Stein's hair between his fingers.
The light brought shining life into the thin strands of silver, and they sparkled almost translucent in the golden rays. The contrast of this radiance—all drawing his gaze back to Stein's verdant eyes staring back at him—with the dull overall appearance the meister seemed to want to effect had Spirit smiling.
For as much as Stein was an enigma, Spirit knew him better than the facade he showed the world.
A question had formed in Stein's eyes as to what suddenly had the weapon's so soft, but he didn't voice it. He only stared back as Spirit smoothed down the hair he'd disturbed and then returned his hand to the guitar.
"This one's for you."
"...What?"
"It's not perfect yet... I'd wanted it to be a surprise. But..."
Spirit started the song over, felt his fingers shake suddenly as he became more aware of his audience. His voice was no steadier than his hands as he began singing to the softly strummed chords.
He didn't glance up as he felt Stein shifting, heard a pair of shoes fall to the floor, and he knew without looking that the younger teen had taken up position on his knees with his feet tucked under him, hands likely fidgeting with the seams of his pants.
"'And I think we're chosen, like our fates are woven...'"
Spirit grew no less nervous as he sang through the lyrics, but Stein had asked him to play. And he owed him this he supposed, if his guess about his meister's current melancholy was correct. Finished or unfinished, he shouldn't ever leave Stein in doubt of his place in his life.
He reached the end of a chorus and paused in playing again, finally looking up. Then, his face fell.
Stein's expression was tense, confused. His brow was furrowed and his eyes unfocused where they were directed at Spirit's left hand on the strings, and his fingers were gripping tightly into the blankets again.
"You...don't like it?" Spirit asked quietly, amazed the words made it past his lips as his heart began to sink.
Stein's eyes, suddenly bright with something Spirit couldn't identify, snapped up to his. When his lips parted to speak, they trembled.
"I do."
Bewildered now, Spirit's heart ached in the fear that he'd somehow made everything worse.
"Come here," he said, almost a plea as he shifted on the pillows again and moved the guitar to lean more against his stomach.
Stein hesitated, but then awkwardly moved not to sit beside him, but to lie partially across Spirit's crossed legs with his head touching the body of the guitar. Spirit's brow rose, but Stein met his eyes in quick explanation.
"I want to feel it."
Spirit considered a moment, the angle making it impossible for him not to touch Stein's hair while playing at the least. But given the meister's chosen posture, he supposed that didn't matter.
He also decided not to mention that Stein would feel the vibrations far better by being next to the amp, and once he'd found an acceptable angle for his right arm, he strummed a chord.
Stein shifted slightly, raising his knees and gripping his hands over his middle. But his eyes stayed locked onto Spirit's. Spirit strummed another chord, and then picked out some of the melody of the song as he watched Stein curiously.
He realized all of a sudden that his partner's expression had changed. Stein was looking at him in that private way again, but deeper in his eyes behind that mysterious look was...hope.
Hope for what?
Spirit felt another pang of guilt, and he glanced at his left hand to cover the nerves he suddenly felt.
"I'm, ah... I'm going to cancel my date tomorrow night," he said. He plucked out more of the melody. "If you're not busy... We should do something."
Against his thigh, he could just feel Stein's heart rate increase through his back.
He looked down again, his own heart pounding as he met Stein's eyes. An instinctive yearning joined the race of blood in his veins, and before he could think about it, he was tentatively curling his soul wavelength along the edges of Stein's.
Stein's brow rose, and Spirit's stomach turned nervously as he saw hesitation in his meister's eyes. Since when had Stein ever been uncertain about resonance? But it faded quickly, and as Stein's soul slowly entwined with his he watched a soundless sigh escape his partner's lips.
Somehow resonating still gave no clarity to the look in Stein's eyes, and there was something in his soul that he was keeping guarded. But there was also such a great relief in the connection that Spirit felt his own anxiety begin to calm in time with Stein's.
Outside the window, the sun dipped below the lowest branches of the trees and sent brighter beams of light piercing the room, illuminating Stein's face and Spirit's hands and reflecting brightly off the guitar. Stein closed his eyes against the invasion and shifted to be more comfortable on Spirit's leg, the side of his head still leaned against the instrument.
Spirit cleared his throat as he shifted his hand up the neck of the guitar and shaped the next chord, readying to sing the song's chorus again. Stein's soul was relaxing into his, and Spirit's own slowly calmed in response. He wished he could convince Stein to let go of whatever it was that still had his heart pounding, but he was grateful for the trust he'd been given; if Stein wanted him to know, he would tell him eventually.
He strummed the chord. He watched Stein's expression soften with the sound, the lines of tension in his forehead ease. Their resonance matched effortlessly to the frequency, and Spirit strummed the chord again.
He sighed and reached down to Stein's chest, and the meister's eyes opened briefly when Spirit separated his hands and wove their fingers together.
Spirit sang, and soon his voice was the only audible sound as the last echoes from the amplifier died in the small room.
The tension on Stein's face continued to ease. He turned slightly to press his forehead into the now-silent guitar, but it didn't block the light and he kept his eyes closed.
Stein's wavelength was still gradually relaxing, and Spirit wrapped his around the younger teen's and let the warmth and safety in the sound take him. He let go the If nothing else, he hoped Stein felt the same assurance that he did—that there was no greater sanctuary for his soul than in harmony with his partner.
Spirit released Stein's hand to strum another chord, letting his fingers brush silver hair after following their natural path across the strings. When he reached for Stein's hand again the meister's was already blindly seeking his, and when the smaller fingers folded between his they held on tight.
Spirit continued to sing. And as the sun finished its descent, he watched the light slowly fade from Stein's face.