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“I didn’t think you were serious."
Vessel pointedly did not look at his best friend as he carefully parked the car. II had said that so many times over this trip already that he barely even registered the words anymore… or at least, he hadn’t been registering the words. Now that they were actually here, though, the phrase was suddenly sharp in his ears.
“Bass.”
He glanced at II, his lips pressing into a thin line. To his surprise, the drummer’s ocean blue eyes were wide, not narrowed, as if it was hitting him, too, that they were really here.
“Don’t—don’t,” Vessel said quietly. “I know what you’re going to say and I don’t want to bloody hear it.”
II shook his head a little. “Listen. You’re my best mate, and you’re bloody brilliant, but this is borderline crossing a line, don’t you think? Hand-delivering merch to a woman who barely posts on her one social media account? I know we tend to be a little on the strange side, but this…”
Vessel gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and he rested his forehead on the top part of it. He knew exactly how it looked to his best friend—it looked like he’d stalked the woman they were here to make a delivery for. That was far from the case; he’d done a little lying by omission, sure, but he hadn’t stalked her! II didn’t have the whole story, and admittedly, he’d selfishly kept the whole story even from his best friend because it was true: he hadn’t thought this idea out particularly well.
Would she be surprised? Angry? Fearful ? He winced against the steering wheel at that thought.
It was too late to back out now, but it was also probably time to come clean.
“-so sure this isn’t a horrible idea?” II hadn’t stopped talking. Oops. “And here I am with you, along for the ride as always, because I just can’t seem to let you be an idiot on your own. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love you, but–”
Vessel’s dismayed groan cut him off, earning a worried frown instead. But before he could pry, Vessel lifted his head and looked at him. II got that look on his face that immediately let him know he was onto him.
“What haven’t you told me, Bass?” II asked slowly, calmly.
Vessel sat back and ran his hands over his face before answering, “A fair bit, Fletch. Sure, she’s not exactly expecting me to show up, but… here’s the part I didn’t tell you…”
* * *
When it came to most things, I wasn’t impatient. If someone was being rude, or a situation wasn’t going exactly how I wanted it, or anything like that, I had the patience of a saint(or so people told me). Unfortunately, my infinite patience didn’t extend to online shopping. Fortunately, that was where my ADHD kicked in, and more often than not I forgot I even ordered anything until I got the email that the order was shipped.
Usually.
I pouted to myself as I checked my email for the 37th time in the past 24 hours; as it turned out, my ADHD refused to forget about the band merch I’d ordered, and it had been weeks by this point. I knew it was technically pre-order stuff, but given the band’s recent festival shows, I’d been hoping to see that ‘shipped’ email sooner rather than later.
The only reason I hadn’t crawled out of my skin yet was because I’d been talking to a relatively new friend of mine on Discord, and he’d been helping to keep my mind off of the waiting. I’d met him a few months back when he commented on one of the handful of tiktoks I’d made with my face in it (something I struggled with but was trying to push myself to do) and we’d just clicked pretty well from there.
Frustratingly, for me, he hadn’t been on much the past few days. That was totally fine, of course—he had a life to live and I wasn’t so entitled as to think he should be online for me anytime I needed a distraction. Besides, there was a pretty big time difference between us, so I was happy to talk to him whenever we were able to overlap.
The problem was that I really liked talking to him, and the past two or so days, he’d been offline much more than usual, which of course was exactly when I could’ve used his company the most.
It had crossed my mind that maybe he was pulling away, but for the first time in my adult life, I didn’t believe that. He’d checked in just enough to let me know he was okay, just very busy. I’d reassured him a few times now that he had no obligation to stress about getting back to me if he was busy.
But I did wish he was online, especially now as I once again refreshed my email in vain.
Exasperated with myself, I switched over to Discord and left him a message to respond to when he could:
hey bass! turns out i’m real bad at waiting for this merch. any chance you’re free to chat soon?
His icon suddenly changed from gray to green, and I blinked in surprise. Maybe he was just checking the message and oh wait no he was typing.
I grinned in relief as I waited.
Hey Spike! Waiting around for shit is bloody tough, I get it, but I have some good news to help with that. Remember that surprise I mentioned?
Surprise? Surprise… oh, right! He’d mentioned it about a week ago and I absolutely forgot. I wiggled in my seat as I thought about it.
i definitely for sure remembered, yes
You totally forgot.....listen
He sent a crying laughing emoji and I grinned to myself, absolutely pleased with myself for making him laugh. He’d promised I could hear him laugh for real some day soon, but so far… oh, maybe that was the surprise? That he was ready to voice chat? We’d already swapped a few selfies, albeit goofy ones.
it makes it more of a surprise when i forget you even have a surprise
He sent a smirking emoji, but then he was typing again.
I suppose that’s a fair point. The better news is that it coincides with getting to voice chat, which you definitely haven’t forgotten because you won’t stop asking about it.
oh??? do i get to hear more about this whole thing?
Actually, no. That’s why it’s a surprise! Just promise me you won’t freak out, okay?
oh, well, i’m definitely not suspicious at all now, no sir
That earned another laughing emoji, but he quickly followed it up with a surprising reply.
Just trust me, okay?
My head tilted. This was incredibly cryptic. But, to his credit these past few months, I did trust him.
yeah, alright. like i told you before, if i freak out, it’ll be relatively mild compared to what you’re imagining prolly
His first response was a thinking emoji, followed by a shrug. And then a smirk.
Alright, then. Give me just a few minutes, and I’ll reveal the surprise.
I sent him a salute emoji in response, my grin almost painful as I tried to imagine how he could possibly surprise me from halfway across the world.
Mercifully, my next few minutes were spent daydreaming about what he had in store. My thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock at my door. I couldn’t help but frown, glancing toward the now-dormant Discord chat, but unfortunately, real life didn’t stop just because I was waiting for my internet friend to surprise me.
I wasn’t expecting company, though. Whoever it was would just have to deal with me in my Sleep Token joggers and too-big t-shirt—this was my home, damn it, and they were intruding on my introvert time. Not for the first time, I was glad I’d cut my hair short so I didn’t have to bother trying to fix it.
I got up from my desk with a quiet sigh, and perhaps a bit of anxiety, and made my way toward the door. For some reason, I chose not to look through the peephole first, just swinging the door open like there was no chance of a dangerous person being on the other side of it.
But it wasn’t a dangerous person, oh no.
“Hey, Spike,” Sebastian smiled.
Sebastian, my online friend from Britain, standing right on my doorstep, smiling at me and holding a bag in his left hand. His voice was much more smooth and rich than I’d anticipated it being, a very lovely tenor that pleasantly pricked my brain like I’d heard it before.
One of the things he and I had bonded over a little bit was feeling like neither of us were particularly attractive. Perhaps not outright ugly, but we had the shared experience of people not approaching us like other people got approached, and how that made us feel a little like maybe we weren’t all that attractive. I thought he was cute, but I allowed us to bond over this mutual feeling and definitely never told him. (After all, I felt like I couldn’t pull him, so why even try?)
The pictures he’d sent were nothing compared to the man now standing in front of me.
Sebastian was tall, probably a few inches over six feet, with a lean build, and his hair little longer than mine that was a gorgeous chestnut brown. His eyes were a brown hazel, dark around the pupil but light near the sclera, and they crinkled handsomely in the corners from the warm smile he was giving me. A smile that was ten times more attractive in person than any of his photos; it was almost blinding.
This man never got approached?
Even in just a t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of converse, he was the sort of attractive that if I’d passed him on the street, I wouldn’t have even dared to look at him properly.
“Sebastian?”
My eyes darted to his right, where a shorter man stood just behind him; he was closer to my height of 5’4. Unlike Bass’s blank skin, the other man’s forearms and even his neck were absolutely covered in tattoos. His hair was shorter but styled up in a sort of pompadour updo, redder than his friend’s, and he had deep, ocean blue eyes. In addition, while Bass was clean-shaven, his friend had a rather impressive mustache that he obviously took care of. He was in jeans, too, but he wore a button-down shirt under a thin vest and a pair of brown boots.
And here I was in lounge wear.
The friend smiled, but it was strained, as if he knew how insane it was that Bass was here on my doorstep.
I held my hands up in an almost placating gesture. I could see Bass’s smile twist a little in confusion and could only hope the two would be able to put up with me in real life. I didn’t change who I was online.
“I’m about to have a reaction, so please bear with me,” I said.
Neither of them had much of a chance to react before I turned my back to them, waited a moment, and then turned back around to face them and loudly exclaimed, “What?!”
* * *
Vessel had thought Spike was beautiful even from that first tiktok he’d seen of her, where she’d looked rather uncomfortable, and in every subsequent selfie they’d swapped since then. He’d thought surely she was already taken, and although had been surprised when she wasn’t, had very quickly convinced himself she was out of his league. But now, as he stood in front of her in real life, he wondered what the fuck he’d been thinking to fly all the way out here because those pictures and even the video had not properly captured her beauty—even with her in band joggers and a ratty t-shirt.
Her short hair had a tinge of red to the dirty blonde, only visible in real life, and those striking, pale blue eyes were even more intimidating than he’d anticipated. And those snakebites in her lower lip were definitely doing something for him. Maybe he’d gone entirely insane to think it would be a good idea to show up here.
He mentally shook his head to get himself back to the moment and to prepare himself for whatever reaction she might have; lately, even techies had gotten a bit starstruck and acted a bit weird around him, and even though she had no idea who he really was, he figured he could handle whatever it was she threw at him.
He braced himself when she announced she was about to have a reaction… and then he promptly burst out laughing when that reaction was what he could only call ‘tempered surprise.’
“What?!” she exclaimed incredulously, her jaw practically hanging open. Her voice barely echoed down the breezeway. “You’re fucking with me! How are you here?! Wait, how’d you even know where I lived?”
Her eyes narrowed. Vessel couldn’t help shooting her a cheeky grin, holding a hand up in surrender.
“I can explain,” he chuckled. Beside him, II had remained quiet. “But first, let me introduce my best mate, Fletcher.”
II stepped up now, nodding at Spike. “Pleasure to meet you, Spike. Couldn’t let Bass go through this idiotic plan alone, could I?” That earned a hard side eye from the taller man, but Vessel turned back to Spike again.
As he took a breath to mentally prepare himself to explain, Spike gestured for them to come inside.
“Please,” she said, “it’s hotter than Satan’s balls outside.”
They obliged, stepping into the blessedly cool air from the admittedly miserable heat and following her into the kitchen. It was no wonder Americans complained about it so much—it was stifling. His eyes briefly swept around the place, but he didn’t get much time to look before Spike’s soothing voice was cutting through the air again.
“So now that you two won’t melt from standing outside, please explain how the fuck you’re here in my house. I know we were kinda joking about meeting up at some point, but this is… kinda weird, you know?” she mused. Her eyes were narrowed, her arms crossed under her chest as her hip rested against one of her lower cupboards.
“Yes,” II said, giving a pointed look to his friend, “I think the lovely lass and I would both like to hear what exactly was going through your thick skull.”
Spike nodded firmly, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Vessel sighed and offered the bag he’d been holding. “Remember how I mentioned I kinda work closely with Sleep Token?” he asked tentatively.
Spike’s and II’s responses were simultaneous:
“Yes?”
“WHAT?!”
He flinched at II’s shout, but just lightly shook the bag in Spike’s direction, prompting her to take it. She hesitantly reached out for it as II stared at him.
“Bass, what were–”
“ Well, ” he stressed, cutting his friend off, “part of that is helping with the merch store.” Not a lie. It just happened way less than it used to. “And I saw your order come in and thought it might be a fun surprise… and yes, I did think about how it could come off as creepy, but I needed a break.”
Spike looked up from where she’d been peeking into the bag. Her eyebrows were furrowed, the corners of her mouth pulled down in a thoughtful frown. He hadn’t really explained what he did, so no doubt she was trying to figure out exactly what he needed a break from.
“Are you sure?” II’s voice was quiet, wary, but without any sort of warning. It was Vessel’s decision, and II had told him in recent weeks that if he’d ever wanted to let someone outside their immediate friends and family know, he’d support him, no questions asked. Well, maybe a few, but the support would be there nonetheless.
This also risked II. Vessel was aware of that; Spike could easily put it together that if he was Vessel, Fletcher was II, but in the past few months getting to know her, he genuinely believed that she’d keep the knowledge to herself—if she even chose to outwardly make a guess about II.
Vessel took a deep breath, then nodded slowly. “I'm sure,” he murmured.
Spike tilted her head to the side curiously.
“A break from what?” she questioned. “Working with the band? I'm not sure what the industry is like, but I hear they're supposed to be real sweet guys…”
* * *
I didn't miss the way Sebastian and Fletcher looked at each other the moment the comment left my lips. As well as I liked to think I knew Sebastian already, the reality was I didn't. Not really. For as often as we were able to talk, it wasn't like we were able to learn the intricacies of each other's lives in a few short months.
“First, I have a question,” Bass said, running a hand through the back of his hair. He was nervous, I realized; Fletcher realized it, too, based on how he frowned a bit.
I nodded slowly as I set my bag of merch down. “Go on.”
He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, gathering his courage, then opened them and pinned me with an intense look.
“Will you date me?”
I stared at him. Fletcher stared at him. His eyes flicked between us, and he shifted on his feet; that determined look from before slowly melted into something more akin to uneasiness.
“I–I mean, look, I get I'm not all that, but I just thought that we've been getting on so well that maybe it wouldn't hurt to just shoot my shot, but I understand if you'd rather not, and I swear there's no pressure–”
“Yes.”
He immediately shut up, staring right back at me. I knew my face was red—I could physically feel myself blushing. In my periphery, I saw his friend look at me, but I was only focused on the man who'd just been very awkward at me. As utterly charming and cute as his nervous babbling had been, I’d started to get scared that he was about to retract his question. Although, it did remind me that underneath that handsome veneer, he was just as much of an awkward dork as I was.
Silence stretched between us until he seemed unable to bear it. “But–”
“No.” I held my hand up and shook my head at him. “We've already talked about this, kinda. You said it yourself: we clicked really well rather quick. No buts. We both know how we feel about situations like this and if you’re genuinely asking, I’m genuinely saying yes.”
I could see it when his blush began to crawl up his cheeks. Within moments, he was just as red as I felt.
He nodded and smiled a bit as he said, “Yes, I’m genuinely asking.”
I nodded eagerly. “Then definitely yes!” I grinned. And then we just stood there smiling at each other.
Fletcher cleared his throat softly, reminding us he was still there, but smiled kindly when I blinked dumbly at him. “First,” he started, “let me say congratulations, you two. Based on the way you both just stood there grinning stupidly, I’d venture to say you two are already a good match. However, I might suggest a hug is in order.”
There was a mischievous glint in his eye, but movement in my periphery had me looking over at Bass—just to see he’d opened his arms in invitation. While hugs were not normally my thing, the hopeful look on his face prevented me from refusing. I stepped over to him and was quickly wrapped up in an utterly delightful bear hug, really the only kind of hug that was worth it, which I returned with a broad grin.
The height difference between us was enough that I could comfortably rest my chin on his shoulder, tilted up a bit as it was, and he rested his temple against mine. I could practically feel it when he hummed almost imperceptibly with his feelings.
Oddly, something nagged at the back of my mind at the low noise. I quickly dismissed it in favor of enjoying the hug.
“Second, it might be fun for us to see you look through your new merch,” Fletcher chuckled fondly. I felt Bass nod against my temple. “Admittedly, there’s a few fun surprises besides the shirts and pennant you got.”
I tensed in Bass’s arms as my brain glitched between wanting to stay in the hug and wanting to immediately dig into the bag that was sitting so tantalizingly in front of my sink. Normally I tended to wait to open things, but at the same time, Fletcher specifically pointed it out, so that probably meant he (or they) wanted to see my reaction to whatever was inside.
Bass chuckled—a sound that definitely rang a bell in my head—and pulled away from the hug, much to my mixed emotions. I took the hint, though, and quickly retrieved it before gesturing for all of us to sit at the kitchen table.
As much as I hated having attention concentrated on me, both men looked rather eager as they sat, and I couldn’t find it within myself to disappoint them.
I sighed dramatically, setting the bag on the table and reaching in. The first thing my fingers touched was fabric, so I pulled out the shirts I’d ordered. Despite knowing what they were, I still grinned in excitement as I unfolded them to get a good look. The fabric was soft to the touch, softer than I’d anticipated, and if I did have company I probably would’ve thrown one on immediately. I missed the look they shared. Next, of course, was the Feathered Host pennant, for which I’d already chosen its place to hang on my wall. It earned a solid nod–the image was beautifully printed and well made.
But those were all three items in my order. I peeked into the bag to see the shirts had been hiding three boxes of increasing size, and I reached in. I could hear the chairs creak when Bass and Fletcher leaned forward in them.
The first box, the smallest, was relatively lightweight, decorated with the motifs of the newest album Even in Arcadia. I could guess what it was by the square shape alone, but I still smiled even as I took the top off to reveal the newest album in CD format. I didn’t bother to look inside yet; the only place I could listen to the CD was my car, so I’d have to wait.
I grabbed the next box, but unlike the smallest and biggest, this one was a sleek, glossy black. It was surprisingly weighty… the sort of weight that more often than not meant it was a book of some kind. When I took the top off, I was greeted with the sight of an intricately illustrated image of what I assumed was a stag head made out of branches and sharp plants. My excitement began to grow as I got an inkling of what this potentially was.
Carefully, definitely not wanting to potentially damage anything even by accident, I extracted the slipcase. I didn’t even let myself look at the spine before carefully sliding the book out. There it was: the Teeth of God graphic novel. I grinned broadly, vaguely aware of Bass lightly slapping Fletcher and gesturing to me. I couldn’t see his expression, but I figured he was grinning.
“No fucking way,” I said, carefully opening the front cover.
If I thought the book itself had been a surprise, it had nothing on what was waiting for me on the inside. The men went still in their seats.
Scrawled across the bottom corner of the title page was Vessel’s signature.
The handwriting was a little shaky, as if he wasn't used to signing; why would he be when the band didn't do meet and greets? I turned the page over to see the sharpie he'd used had bled through a little, which definitely meant it wasn't one of those fake signatures printed into books sometimes.
I glanced up at the pair with raised eyebrows. Bass was looking oddly smug with that unnecessarily handsome smile quirked into a smirk.
“Signed?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could, grinning. I absolutely suspected something was up, but I didn't want to clue them in about that just yet.
“Well, you told me more than once about how you wish you had more signed copies of books you wanted,” he shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal that he'd gotten Vessel to sign something.
There was more to this mystery, but I was struggling to figure out what.
* * *
Spike leaned forward in her seat, her eyes pinned on Vessel, index finger lightly tapping the shaky signature in the book. “How’d you do it?” she asked.
He knew exactly what she meant and it took every ounce of willpower not to outright smirk at her. Yes, he planned to tell her… but there was no reason he couldn’t draw this out a little bit just to see how she reacted. So far, she was very sweet, polite, and absolutely as amusing as she was in their online messages. However, getting to see her expressive face react in real time added a whole new perspective: she was bloody fucking adorable.
“I’m curious too, Bass.” II leaned forward, too, his arms brace on the tabletop, hands clasped. Vessel narrowed his eyes slightly at the cocky smirk on his mate’s face. Naturally, II didn’t crack. “How on Earth did you get the elusive creature known as Vessel to sign the book? Hm?”
“That’s a funny story, actually,” Vessel practically hummed. His eyes flicked to Spike, her pale blue eyes seeming to bore straight to his soul as she waited patiently.
God, he wanted to drown in those eyes. It had been a very long time indeed since he’d felt this way toward anyone, but their interactions were always so easy…
“We can’t wait to hear it, mate.”
Vessel’s gaze flicked between II and Spike as he considered his next move. II clearly wanted to rip the bandaid off… no, wait. He was actually trying to take the piss. Prick.
He chuckled softly. “Spike, will you hand the book to Fletch?”
They both frowned in surprise, but she obediently offered the book to II, who took it from her with a skeptical look. Once in hand, Vessel stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the sharpie he’d used to sign the book in the car. Not wanting her to catch on too quickly, though, he held it in such a way that his long, spidery fingers covered the color of the cap as he held it out to II.
II stared at him like he’d sprouted a second head. “You’re not serious.”
“Please,” he murmured, shaking the pen a little.
“What’re you doing?” Spike raised her eyebrows. When her head tilted to the side, Vessel felt a sort of cuteness aggression try to settle in, but he forced the feeling away.
II quirked an eyebrow, too, silently asking why he hadn’t done this in the car, but it was all Vessel could do to shrug.
“Spike, just trust me for a moment. Fletch, if you please, and then hand it back to her.”
II sighed heavily, but swiped the sharpie, popped the cap off, and scrawled his alias just under Vessel’s—and it was just as unpracticed. After letting the ink dry for a moment, he closed the book and handed it back to the thoroughly confused woman.
She all but snatched it. He didn’t have to tell her to check what was just added, so he waited in suffocating anticipation for her reaction to now having both signatures in the coveted graphic novel.
The seconds began to stretch into moments of silence as she looked at the names on the page. II shot him a vaguely worried glance, but Vessel just shook his head in response–he wanted Spike to put it together.
Slowly, her eyebrows furrowed as she no doubt started to put things together. She chewed on her left snakebite, lightly tugging on it with her teeth without entirely pulling her lip into her mouth. Not for the first time, he thought about how she must’ve at least turned heads even if she didn’t seem to notice it; she absolutely would’ve turned his head. Rather suddenly, her expression became a little hard to read, her eyes almost accusing as they locked onto him.
Hopefully he hadn’t fucked up. This was a huge risk for both him and II, and although he’d felt confident she would be willing to keep the secret, he hadn’t actually considered how the news might impact her emotionally. His knee-jerk assumption was to think she would pull away, become cold and distant and not want a goddamn thing to do with him… but that wasn’t a fair thing to assume about her after all he’d learned.
He shifted a little in his seat, running his clammy hands over the tops of his thighs. II kicked him under the table, but he just glared at him before returning his attention to his new… girlfriend? They’d figure the label out later.
“Say something?” she asked, her light, polite tone in complete contrast to the completely unreadable expression on her face.
He shifted a little in his chair, a little taken off guard. “Er… what do you want me to say?” he asked.
But instead of answering, she nodded, and then turned her withering stare onto II, who shrank down just a little in his chair as he attempted to hold that intense gaze. She didn’t say anything to him. His fingers began to drum nervously on the table.
Unable to take the tense, almost suffocating and definitely lingering silence, Vessel decided he needed to thoroughly break it.
“What’s going through that pretty head of yours, sweetheart?”
His bold words had the desired effect, and suddenly she was all too readable again. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as she inhaled sharply, her eyes went wide, and she clutched the novel to her chest. Once again, her reaction was much more subdued than other people’s might’ve been in this situation, but he figured this was probably a rather big one for her.
“I’m about to have a reaction so please bear with me,” she rushed out.
He grinned. “I think you’re already having the reaction, love,” he teased.
“Sleep Token is sitting at my kitchen table.”
“You seem like you want to scream, lass,” II chuckled softly.
Her head turned to him. “Oh, that’s a good idea,” she said. Still holding eye contact with him, she let out the most half-hearted “Ahhh….” either of them had ever heard, complete with trailing off at the end. Her mouth snapped shut with a click of her teeth.
For a moment, both Vessel and II just looked at her, and then they both erupted into laughter.
* * *
Sebastian almost couldn’t breathe, he was laughing so hard. Fletcher was right there with him, and as funny as I’d realized my reaction was, I was still in too much shock to properly express myself. They couldn’t see it because I held the book so tightly, but I could feel my hands shaking slightly as the adrenaline rushed through me.
I had the founding members of Sleep Token sitting at my kitchen table, guffawing at me.
Suddenly, Bass stood. He gently pried the book from my arms, set it on the table, then pulled me to my feet and into a hug. I realized that he was trembling a bit, too, and not just from laughter—it had probably taken a lot of courage to tell me who they were. I wrapped my arms around his lean torso in return and we clung to each other as the revelation began to settle between us.
One of his hands began to gently rub my shoulders and upper back. I closed my eyes and dragged in a deep breath through my nose, focusing on the smell of his cologne, before slowly pushing the air out through my lips.
“So… you really do see stuff in your fandom, huh,” I mused.
“He reads the fanfictions, too,” Fletcher supplied, making me grin.
Bass stiffened in my arms, but even as I cackled softly, I mirrored the gentle rubbing motions on his back to let him know it was okay.
“Wanker,” he grumbled at his friend.
I lifted my head to look up at my new… boyfriend? We’d work that out later. He tilted his head down to meet my gaze, and even though he was literally simply looking at me, I felt myself blush a little bit.
“Would it be okay if I told a few of my friends about this?” I asked softly.
He shot an unsure look at Fletcher, biting his lip. I looked at him, too, watching as he stood. And then he stepped toward us. I blinked in confusion. Before I knew it, he was part of the hug, his arms around both of us as best he could manage.
“I was starting to feel left out,” he huffed softly, smiling. “But more importantly, you remember how hard we try to keep our real identities a secret…”
I nodded against Bass’s chest. “I know. I have two friends I’d like to tell, though, because I know for a fact they wouldn’t tell anyone. But I understand if you don’t want me to and I’d respect that.”
Fletcher looked up at Bass with a soft hum. I followed his gaze, watching as the unamused giant of the group glanced between the two of us. I could practically see his thoughts as they manifested in micro expressions flitting across his face. This was a huge decision—just like the choice to tell me—and I wasn’t going to rush him or beg.
Eventually, he spoke, “No offense, love, but we’re already taking a risk by telling you.” His tone was soft and gentle, clearly trying to imply something, but if I didn’t have a very firm yes or no I was afraid I would make a poor choice.
“I understand,” I reassured him, “but they don’t really do social media either. However, if you don’t want me to, I won’t.” It was just a lot to keep to myself.
The contemplative silence was relatively comfortable as we stood there in a group hug in the middle of my kitchen. Both men needed to be on board or else that meant it was a no for both, in my mind. As much as I wanted to tell someone, I would not risk compromising them just to be excited about things.
“I’ll put my faith in you,” Fletcher eventually said, his voice quiet since his head was now practically next to mine. Bass gave me a squeeze as he nodded.
“Me too. If you feel like you can truly trust these people, then I’m going to have faith in them to keep things quiet.”
My eyes closed and a quiet sigh of relief escaped me. I’d be able to talk to my friends about this without fear that I was doing something wrong. That I was dating Vessel. My heart rate spiked at the reminder but the only thing I could do in the moment was be hugged.
As it turned out, Fletcher had a hell of a hug even though he was on the outside. Must’ve been those ridiculous drummer arms.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
I felt Bass shift and remove one of his arms from around me, but when I looked up at him to complain about that, I saw he had his phone out—and the camera app was open. I didn’t even have time to stop him, because Fletcher looked up just then, too, and then Bass took a picture.
It was the most awkward selfie I’d ever seen. I looked vaguely horrified, as if I was being hugged against my will; Fletcher looked tired, like this was something he experienced often; Sebastian, the tall shit, looking confused as hell like he wasn’t the one obviously taking the picture. I fucking loved it.
“Are you serious?” I asked as if I wasn’t thoroughly delighted by the ridiculous group hug selfie.
Fletcher separated himself from us, rolling his eyes so hard I thought they might roll right out of his head. “Trust me, lass, he very much is. Awkward selfies are absolutely his ‘thing.’”
Awkward selfies, was it? Well, two could play that game.
Bass said something to Fletcher over my head as I pulled out my phone and got the camera open and angled. Then I just waited for him to look down again. The moment he did, I snapped the picture—this time, the image only caught the upper half of my face, along with a rather unflattering angle of him looking down, his mouth open oddly from being in the middle of saying something.
I’d be sending this picture to my mom later. It was perfect.
I grinned as he slowly spun me around so that my back was against his chest. My eyes didn’t leave the screen, taking in the amused smirk he wore as his hand came out to hold my phone with me. He angled it a little better, but curiously, he didn’t immediately take a picture.
He dropped his head a little so his mouth was right beside my ear, which obscured his face from Fletcher’s view. In the moment, I thought nothing of it, just smirked at him in the camera app as he wrapped his free arm around my waist to hold me close.
“I take it you didn't hear me just now, love,” he said casually, meeting my gaze in the app.
“Guilty,” I admitted.
He hummed quietly in my ear, a low, rumbling sound that made goosebumps race across the back of my neck. A wolfish smile slowly pulled his lips back. My cheeks flushed, and I watched in real time as my pupils dilated. His thumb easily reached over mine to press the capture button.
“I said I'd love it if I could take you out tonight,” he murmured, his voice an octave lower than its usual pitch.
Vessel's voice had always made me feel… safe, for lack of a better word. Like no matter where I was listening, I was home, wrapped in a cozy blanket made of sound (despite the often heartbreaking lyrics). More than once, I'd put on my best headphones, turn off all the lights, and just exist in the space of Sleep Token songs, absorbing the music like a sponge, like I could somehow make them part of my very bone marrow.
Having him actually in my ear, speaking to me directly and specifically, was on a whole other level. I squirmed a little in his arms; the one around my waist tightened a little, his fingers splaying out against my side. I didn't like my squishy stomach or the love handles I had, but before I could even attempt to distance myself, he was pulling me into him a little tighter—completely unbothered by the squishy areas I disliked.
I must've taken too long to answer because his lips were suddenly brushing against the shell of my ear as he spoke again, “I need an answer, darling, if you please. I won't be offended if you say no.”
“Y-yes.” I swallowed thickly, my eyes not leaving his as we stared into the front camera. He snapped another picture. “Tonight sounds great.”
My eyes darted over to see if Fletcher was watching, but he was mercifully in my living room taking in my decor. Lips pressing to my cheek brought my attention back to the screen just in time for yet another picture.
“Wonderful,” Bass smiled, straightening up again and releasing me. “I'll pick you up around half six, how's that sound?”
With the atmosphere relaxing again, I did, too, and I smiled up at him as I turned to face him.
“Sounds great. Do you have any idea where, yet?”
He chuckled and shook his head.
“Not a clue,” he admitted, “but I'll do a little research between now and then and let you know the options in a bit, how's that sound? Unless you have a suggestion?” He raised an eyebrow at me.
Sensing they were near the end of the visit, Fletcher shuffled toward my front door, dangling the car keys in his hand. “I'll go start the car,” he announced. “Spike, it was lovely to meet you, and I hope we get to chat again soon.”
“Same to you, Fletcher. Have a good evening,” I replied, giving him a little wave as he let himself out of my front door.
When he was gone, I looked up at Sebastian again, a little glad to see he was still relaxed and not trying to rile me up again. He smiled expectantly at me.
“There's this place called Ragin’ Cajun that's real good,” I told him with a smile.
He nodded thoughtfully. “Alright, we'll go there, then. What's the dress code?”
“Casual. What you're wearing now would be perfect, especially if you intend to get any crayfish.”
His head tilted to the side. I could see the confusion, but I was confused about why he was confused, so I tilted my own head the other way and blinked at him. He blinked back at me. I raised my eyebrows in a silent prompt for him to explain his confusion.
“Ah–” He practically jumped as his brain seemed to kick start. “Sorry. I just… I don’t want to make assumptions, but I sort of figured you might be more interested in something… fancier…?” His voice trailed off, belying his uncertainty.
I stared at him. “Why would I want something fancier?”
He stared right back at me, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Because… it’s a first date?” Was he guessing?
My own eyebrows lowered to match his as my mind started to race. Since it was just the two of us and I wasn’t masking quite so hard, I allowed my thoughts to come spilling out of my mouth.
“Is that normal for a first date? Do we have to do fancy? I’d rather not, if that’s okay—I wanna get to know you more in a casual setting, where I can be kinda awkward and not feel like I stick out like a sore thumb.” I bit my lip; my heart was beating a little faster just from this, from trying to communicate my discomfort.
Although I was always working to get better at voicing my discomforts, it really wasn’t much easier yet. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about his reaction.
Thankfully, an easy smile crossed his face as he nodded. “Of course, that’s perfectly fine. Your comfort is my priority, and frankly, I think it says a fair amount that you’re more concerned about who I am as a person rather than where I can afford to take you.”
I smiled bashfully down at my feet, crossing my arms just so I had something to do with them. Although I didn’t know what to say to that in response, when I looked up again, there was a gleam in Bass’s eyes that had me once again tilting my head to the side.
“You’re the type who’d rather stay in for a date than go out.” It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded with an apologetic smile.
“Usually, yes,” I confirmed out loud, “but for a first date, I’d like to show you some of the cuisine we have around here.”
He chuckled and reached out, pulling me into him for another hug that I readily returned. It didn’t last too long, though, because we were both aware that Fletcher had gone out to the car already, and neither of us wanted to keep him waiting too much longer.
Reluctantly, he pulled away and started to head for the door. I trailed after him. “Remember, half six tonight,” he smiled.
“Got it. I’m really looking forward to it,” I grinned broadly, opening the door for him.
Although I wasn’t thrilled he was leaving, I was excited for the date—and I knew I’d need the time between now and then to really let everything soak in. There was a lot to digest, after all. But even as I thought about that, I reminded myself that there was one final question I really wanted the answer to before he left.
“Um, hey.”
He stopped in my open doorway and turned back to me.
I shifted my weight from foot to foot but didn’t allow myself to look away from him.
“Did we… wanna consider labels yet…?” I asked hesitantly.
His lips pursed, then his hand came up to gently cup my chin. “Do we want to consider labels yet?” he asked in return.
I felt it when my cheeks flushed red, nodding as best I could. There was a beat of silence, and then I forced myself to say the words, “Yeah… kinda… i-if that’s okay.”
He broke into an absolutely dazzling grin. Those almost-stupidly white teeth, the way the corners of his mouth pulled up just so, the way he was fucking looking at me… it was enough to make my heart and lungs stop momentarily. How could a man like him possibly have the exact same experience I had when it came to our lack of dating?
And then he was leaning down toward me, my chin angled up. Despite how caught off guard I was, at the same time, I was aware that he’d given me plenty of time to pull my face away if I didn’t want this.
I didn’t pull away.
* * *
Vessel had watched Spike intently when he tilted her chin up, looking for any sign that she didn’t want what he was offering, any sort of discomfort or uncertainty. But the only thing on her face was wide-eyed anticipation. He could feel her pulse racing beneath his fingers; it matched his own frantically beating heart.
They had talked at length about the uncertainties of relationships; while he had more experience than her with them, his hadn’t exactly been peachy, as indicated in the lyrics of his songs. Though she had less experience, hers had gone… alright, despite how he suspected terms had been a little muddy. Needless to say, her desire for a label already was both surprising and delightful and, just as surprisingly, he had no qualms about it.
He pressed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss, her lips soft and warm and malleable against his despite the snakebite hoops. They bit into his skin a little, but he’d be lying if he said it was anything but strangely pleasant. One of her hands came up to rest on his chest lightly. For a lingering moment, they just stood there, wrapped up in the sweet kiss.
Unfortunately, he had to go. II was waiting, and it wasn’t like he wouldn’t see her again in a few hours anyway.
He slowly pulled away, his hand dropping from her chin just to catch the hand resting over his heart. “Girlfriend,” he said with a broad grin and a squeeze of her hand.
“Boyfriend,” she replied, matching his grin and lightly pressing her hand into him.
For an increasingly long moment, they simply stood there, looking at each other with stupid grins on their faces. It wasn’t until his phone chimed with a notification that he remembered that time existed, and although he jumped at the interruption, it was enough to have him turning on his heel to hurry toward the parking lot.
“Remember, half six tonight!” he called over his shoulder.
He heard her soft giggle before she called back, “I’ll be waiting!” And then the sound of her door closing echoed through the breezeway.
His heart soared as he hurried his way back to the car. He knew he was grinning like a fool when he got into the passenger’s seat but honestly, who could blame him? II certainly wouldn’t, not with how smug he looked under that mustache.
“Things went well, then?” the smaller man asked as he started to back out of the parking spot. Vessel turned to him, practically beaming, his chest puffing up a little. “Mate,” he said, “you just met my girlfriend.”