Work Text:
“I’m quitting tutoring.”
Kranz glances up from the files he’d been sorting through to see Licht standing in front of him, hands stuffed in his jacket pocket, scowling fiercely.
“No you’re not,” he answers simply, placing the folder to the side.
“I am,” Licht insists sullenly. He kicks the his boot against the edge of Kranz desk, ignoring the pointed glare that his uncle gives him. “You can’t make me stay in the program.”
Kranz quirks an eyebrow. “You’re right I can’t,” he admits, leaning back in his chair slightly. “I’ll chalk it up to the fact that you’re so busy this year you don’t have time for extracurricular activities.” He sighs, examining his nails calmly. “Gil will be so disappointed that you can’t play in the band this year.”
“I never said that,” Licht says promptly, eyes going wide.
“Well, there’s no other reason for you to quit tutoring,” Kranz says. “So unless you tell me otherwise, you won’t be tutoring and you won’t be playing the piano this year.” Licht glares, but Kranz never loses his polite look.
“S’not fair,” the teenager mumbles, collapsing in the chair across from Kranz desk. “Gil likes you better than me.”
“It’s not fair of you to quit tutoring and leave kids who genuinely need help hanging,” Kranz reminds him gently. He folds his hands neatly on top of his desk, peering over his glasses at his nephew. “What’s really bothering you?” He asks gently.
Licht’s shoulders hunch and his eyes flash. “That stupid shit rat!” He growls, and Kranz frowns at him.
“Language,” he reprimands. “And who are you talking about, exactly?”
“His name is Hyde,” Licht spits the name like it’s venom in his mouth, face twisting with the bitterness of it. “And I’m going to kill him if I have to work with him for an entire semester.”
“Hyde…” Kranz repeats thoughtfully, tilting his head. “He’s signed up for math tutoring, isn’t he?” Licht bares his teeth in a snarl. “Isn’t he also in the drama club?”
Licht nods his head swiftly. “The lead actor in the upcoming play,” he mutters darkly. “If he spent less time reading his stupid script and more time studying, I wouldn’t have to deal with him.”
“Is he not showing up to meetings? Is he threatening you?” In seconds, Kranz has turned into the loveable, if not slightly overbearing, mother hen that he truly is.
“Worse,” Licht groans, sinking down into his chair. “He’s flirting with me.”
There’s a beat of silence and then Kranz is clamping his hand down on his mouth, not fast enough to muffle the snort of laughter that escapes him. Licht shoves himself up from the chair he’s sitting in with enough force to send it rocking back on two legs, glaring daggers at his uncle.
“I’m sorry, Licht!” Kranz calls as his nephew heads for the door. “I won’t do it again, I promise; please, come back and tell me everything.” Licht hesitates with his hand on the doorknob, clenched tightly around the metal. “I promise I won’t laugh,” Kranz repeats, making his voice as serious as he can with amusement still bubbling within him.
Grumbling and dragging his feet, Licht moves back over to the chair he just vacated and flings himself down into it. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest and his eyes are still narrowed, but at least he doesn’t look like he’s going to bolt out the door.
“So,” Kranz says, clearing his throat. “He’s flirting with you?” This time, he manages to keep his voice steady.
“Yes!” Licht hisses. “The number of bad math jokes are getting to be ridiculous!”
“Bad math jokes?” Kranz asks warily, and Licht grits his teeth in response. “Do I even want to know?”
“‘Let’s do our math homework together,’” Licht quotes, pitching his voice obnoxiously high. “We can add a bed, subtract our clothes, divide your legs, and multiply!”
“Never heard that one before,” Kranz admits, steepling his fingers. “And he shouldn’t be saying things like that to you, I’ll-”
“He hasn’t since I punched the shit out of him for that one,” Licht interrupts, not looking the least bit ashamed.
“You hit him, Licht?” Kranz tone has a bit of panic in it that he’s trying to mask. Licht nods.
“Told him it made us even for his unwanted sexual advance,” the pianist says calmly, and Kranz groans.
“Well,” his uncle says, massaging his temple. “At least he’s stopped with that--but no more hitting!” He warns his nephew. Licht quirks an eyebrow at him and Kranz takes the loss. “Has he done anything else I need to know about?”
“During our first meeting, he told me that I looked like an angel!”
“But...well, I would’ve thought you of all people would take that as a compliment,” Kranz says carefully, and Licht shakes his head.
“Not from that demon,” he says solemnly. Licht’s face contorts in a sneer. “And then he said, since I as his math tutor, it would probably be more appropriate to call me Angle-chan.”
The door to Kranz’s office slams open a moment later, and Licht storms out, the sound of Kranz bright laughter following him out the door.
*
“Heeeeeey, Angle-chan!”
As it always does, Licht’s blood pressure spikes the second that obnoxiously cheery voice grates against his ears.
“Shit rat,” he greets stiffly, setting his bag down on the bench next to him.
“Aww, don’t be like that Lich-tan!” Hyde whines, slumping forward onto the table. He’s wearing his drama club t-shirt today, Licht notes; it’s a black shirt with the comedy and tragedy masked printed in white on the front, with elegant script writing underneath that says ‘All the world’s a stage…’. Licht scowls at the shirt, hating drama club with every fiber of his being for dumping this obnoxious human being in his lap.
“Shut up,” he orders. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I’m really happy to see you too, my muse,” Hyde says with an easy grin, not the least bit put out by Licht’s sour disposition.
“Don’t call me that,” Licht snaps, yanking Hyde’s notebook towards him. The shit rat has terrible writing and it’s always a headache to try to make sense of the notes he’s taken.
“Would you prefer I go back to Angle-chan?” Comes the cheeky question which is followed by a yelp as Licht kicks Hyde under the table. Hard.
“I’d prefer it if you’d go die in a ditch,” he tells the other, squinting at the notes in front of him. “Damn, your writing is terrible.”
Hyde sighs dramatically. “Such a harsh muse,” he laments wistfully.
“I’m nobody’s muse,” Licht tells him firmly. “Now will you get all your shit out so that I can prepare you to fail statistics for the second time?”
“Alright, alright,” Hyde says, holding his hands up in a sign of peace. “And it was geometry I failed before, not statistics, Lich-tan.”
“Congratulations,” Licht says blankly. “Soon, you’ll be able to add statistics to that list.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute, because you’re a rotten tutor.”
“And you’re a shitty tutee,” Licht returns viciously, hands clenching around Hyde’s notebook. “Now get your shit out.”
“You know, I thought about taking this class online,” Hyde says offhandedly, still digging through his bag for a calculator. “Just for convenience’s sake--it’s not like I want to stick around and learn about math when I have lines to run,” he says, spitting the word like it’s done him personal offense. “But it wasn’t being offered online this semester, so--”
“Good!” Licht snarls, slamming his fist down on the table. Hyde jumps at the aggressive gesture, knocking his head against the bottom of the table in the process.
Licht clears his throat awkwardly and goes back to looking over the others notes.
“Got some strong feelings about that, my muse?”
“These math courses should never be offered online! It’s hard for students to self-regulate themselves and the way the material is organized is terrible!” Caught up in his rant, Licht fails to realize that Hyde has used that obnoxious nickname again. “On top of that, the practice questions they give you are all poorly written and nothing like what’s on the exams!” Licht pauses to catch his breath and notices Hyde smiling at him. “What?”
“You’re beautiful when you get passionate like this,” Hyde says dreamily, and Licht’s patience evaporates into thin air. He throws the notebook into the other’s face and takes a little comfort in the undignified way that Hyde squawks in surprise.
*
“Have you been lying to me?”
Licht looks up when Hyde slams his books down on the table he’s waiting at. The blonde is seething, hands balled into tight fists by his side and his foot tapping impatiently. “About?”
“Have you been giving me wrong formulas and answers on purpose? Because I showed my teacher the notes I took from our last session, and she said it was all wrong!”
“Maybe your teacher is an idiot,” Licht offers, and Hyde stamps his foot.
“Lich-tan!” He squeals, voice pitching impossibly high. “How could you do that to me?!”
“You have no proof,” Licht counters, tapping his fingers on the table. “My math grades are perfect, and Kranz knows all about the shit you say to me during our meetings; who are they gonna believe, me or you?”
Hyde does a fantastic impression of a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth with his eyes blown wide open. “That’s what I thought,” Licht says smugly, when Hyde doesn’t seem like he’s got an answer to give. “Now, are you ready to get started for the day?”
Licht smiles, feeling like he’s finally gotten the upper hand as Hyde settles down glumly for their session.
*
“Nee, Lich-tan?” Hyde asks, twirling a pencil between his fingers.
Licht grunts in response. When he’s greeted with only silence, he looks up at his tutee. Hyde, for once, isn’t grinning broadly with the look in his eyes that means Licht is going to have to throw something at him to get him to behave. In fact, he isn’t looking at Licht at all, his eyes trained solely on the pencil between his fingers. “What is it, shit rat?”
“Are you going to come to our production this month?” It takes Licht a moment to translate drama kid speak for him to understand that Hyde is asking him if he’s going to the play that drama club is putting on.
“No,” he says bluntly, and Hyde winces. “Gil said he didn’t need me for the orchestra pit, so there’s no reason for me to be there.”
“Not even to see me on stage?” Hyde asks, and his voice isn’t as confident as it usually is. It actually seems like he’s...nervous? Licht didn’t even know that it was possible for the idiot to get nervous.
“The less I see of you, the better,” Licht says, but there’s not as much venom in his tone as there usually is. Something is off about Hyde today, and it’s no fun to banter with someone who isn’t themselves.
“How mean,” Hyde says weakly, and the pencil slips from his fingers and rolls across the table. Licht pins it down with the palm of his hand.
“Why do you ask?” Licht asks, rolling the pencil back to Hyde. His tutee catches it right before it rolls off the table.
“I just wanted you to see what it is I do,” Hyde says with a shrug. Licht suspects there’s a lot more to it than that, but Hyde doesn’t seem inclined to say much else. As much as the boisterous and cheerful Hyde gets on his nerves, this subdued and melancholy one bothers Licht much more.
“Tell you what,” Licht begins, and Hyde’s eyes flicker over to him. “If you pass your math class, I’ll go see your stupid play.”
“Really?” Hyde’s eyes brighten and his voice is much happier. “You promise?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Licht says with a shrug. “But I’ll be amazed if you pass with how shitty your grades have been.”
“And whose fault is that?!” Hyde demands, glaring at Licht.
“Yours,” Licht tells him shamelessly. “If you were smart, you would have been making sure what I was telling you was accurate.”
“I shouldn’t have to fact check my tutor,” Hyde complains, and then he shakes his head. “Well, it doesn’t matter! I’ll just have to make perfect grades from here on out!”
“Then we should probably get back to tutoring,” Licht scolds him with a roll of his eyes. Hyde gives him an enthusiastic nod and sits up straight.
“Will you stop feeding me the wrong answers?” Hyde asks, looking up at Licht from his lashes. Licht’s lips twitch up in the ghost of a smile and his stomach twists though he doesn’t understand why.
“Maybe, if you behave.” Licht says, and Hyde smiles and sits up straight.
“All right then, Angle-chan; teach me how to math!”
*
“I don’t believe it.”
Hyde is grinning at him, and Licht knows his mouth is hanging open, but he can’t help himself. “I don’t fucking believe it.” Sitting on the table between the two of them is Hyde’s final report card for the semester.
“Read it and weep, Angle-chan!” Hyde crows, fist pumping triumphantly. “A D is a passing grade!” The blonde lets out a whoop of happiness, tackling Licht in a bone crushing hug.
“Get off of me!” Licht snaps, shoving at the other’s head. Hyde’s glasses get knocked onto the floor and he has to chase after them, smiling the whole time.
“Okay, okay.” Hyde scoops his glasses off the floor and shoves them back on his face unceremoniously. He reaches into the pocket of his vest (his stupid fucking orange vest, Licht thinks fondly, before he catches himself) and produces a ticket that he waves enthusiastically in Licht’s face. “Here you go!”
“Will you stop waving that thing around?” Licht snatches it from him, sparing a glance at it. “Phantom of the Opera?”
“You promised you’d come, Angle-chan! You have to, as my muse!” Hyde reminds him, giving him the fakest set of puppy dog eyes Licht has ever seen in his eighteen years on earth.
“Oh, shut up,” Licht says, but there’s no really anger or animosity in his voice. “I know what I promised; I’ll go to your stupid show.”
*
Licht, being the loving and caring nephew that he is, drags his uncle to go see the play with him.
“Honestly, you’re acting like a child,” Kranz scolds him as they push their way forward into the auditorium. “You were perfectly capable of going by yourself.”
“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t get to see your boyfriend,” Licht points out, jerking his head toward the direction of the orchestra pit where he knows Gil is lurking. His uncle blushes.
“Brat,” Kranz says, ruffling Licht’s hair. “Where shall we sit?”
“In the back, so we can make a quick escape when it’s all over,” Licht answers promptly, already heading for a chair in the last row. Kranz’s hand on his shoulder stops him. “What?”
“I think you may have a special spot,” his uncle says, trying to hide a smile. He points to the front row and Licht follows his finger. When he sees what Kranz means, he turns redder than his uncle.
“I’m gonna kill him,” he mumbles, staring at the seat with a huge, tacky sign on it that reads, ‘RESERVED FOR THE GREAT HYDE’S MUSE’ in glitter glue. “There won’t be a play tonight, because the male lead is going to be dead.”
“Go take your seat,” Kranz says, pushing Licht forward slightly. “I’ll meet you after the show.” And with that, he heads off-in the direction of the orchestra pit, Licht vaguely notes. Resigned to his fate, Licht makes his way to the front row, yanking the sign off the chair with far more force than necessary, stuffing it under the chair and hopefully out of sight. He can hear some giggles and when he looks up, there’s several pairs of eyes staring at him from behind the curtain on stage.
Licht’s lack of shame and his pride are the only things that stop him from leaving the auditorium then and there. He settles down onto the chair, sitting proudly with his head held high as he begins imaging several scenarios of cruel and unusual deaths that might befall Hyde.
A girl from the drama club, one he’s never met before, walks by to hand him a program. Her eyes fix on his face, then on the sign shoved under his chair, and a knowing look crosses her face. “We hope you enjoy the show,” she says as Licht accepts the program. “Hyde-chan is amazing in the role of the Phantom.” She walks off before Licht can tell her that the words ‘Hyde’ and ‘amazing’ don’t belong in the same sentence.
“We’ll see about that,” he mutters, thumbing through the program. “That damn shit rat isn’t appealing in any way.”
*
He eats his words the second Hyde takes the stage.
It’s like he’s an entirely different person. A different, appealing, charming person, who has complete command of the stage he’s on. His motions are sure and confident, his voice carries effortlessly to every inch of the auditorium, and there’s not a second that he falters with his lines. Hyde might as well be the Phantom himself, for how well he plays the role.
Licht, having played the piano since he was five years old, has a deep love and appreciation of the arts. He gets being passionate about a performance, understand better than anyone the thrill of being able to perform in front of a crowd-especially when someone important is sitting there watching you.
He’s just starting to understand why Hyde was so desperate to have him attended the play when the orchestra begins to play a soft, gentle tune and Hyde steps towards center stage and begins to sing.
Licht knows the song, having played it before himself. Hyde’s voice carries the deep, sweet notes of Music of the Night perfectly, and subconsciously he leans forward on his chair, straining to take in every second of the song.
“Softly, deftly, music shall caress you; Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you” Hyde croons, staring directly at Licht, and the breath he didn’t realize he was holding escapes him a whoosh. There’s no way that look wasn’t intentional; he can tell by the way the other’s eyes glimmer for a moment, how his lips pull back into an almost grin before he commits to the rest of the song with an intensity that Licht has never seen in him before, one that resonates down to the very core of his being.
When the curtain falls on the play, Licht finds himself on his feet, clapping wildly as the cast members come back out for their final bow. Hyde’s eyes meet his, and the blonde grins, tilting his head back towards the dressing rooms in a silent invitation. Licht nods firmly, and Hyde’s smile widens before he turns and heads back behind the curtain.
Kranz will just have to wait.
*
Licht has been backstage a handful of times before, but it’s still a little awkward. His role has always been in the band room or the orchestra pit, and he feels like an interloper leaning against the wall waiting for Hyde to show up.
He doesn’t have to wait long.
“Enjoy the show, Lich-tan?” A familiar voice purrs in his ear, and Licht whips around to see a tired, sweaty, but proud Hyde standing before him. His face is still vaguely pink from where he’s scrubbed off the stage makeup, and he’s changed out of the suit the Phantom wore and into a white tank top and grey sweatpants. Licht’s traitorous brain has the passing thought that Hyde looks good like this, and he can’t find it inside himself to deny the thought.
“Who would’ve thought you were good at something?” He asks instead, stuffing his hands inside his jacket pocket. Hyde places his hand over his heart.
“You wound me, my muse,” he says, staggering slightly into Licht. When he wraps an arm around Licht’s shoulder, he doesn’t push him off.
“Speaking of that,” he says, leaning in slightly towards Hyde who he can feel stiffen in surprise. “Mind explaining what the hell that sign was about?”
“Just showing you where to sit, Angle-chan,” Hyde chuckles, and Licht has been around him long enough to know that that specific chuckle is the one Hyde gives when he’s nervous or embarrassed about something.
“That all?” Licht drawls, giving Hyde a sideways look. The blonde meets his gaze steadily. “I was just starting to get used to the idea of being your muse.”
“Yeah?” The other breathes back, leaning in just a bit closer. “It’s a pretty high honor, after all.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Licht scoffs, and then he pauses. “You were amazing,” he says quietly, swallowing hard.
“Thank you,” Hyde says, his voice equally soft. It’s silent for a moment between them as they both consider where to go after being genuinely kind to the other and, as is usual, it’s Hyde who breaks the peace. “Worth having had to tutor me so that I could put on that performance?”
“Don’t push it,” Licht warns, elbowing the taller boy in the ribs. Hyde takes it in stride.
“Aww, but Lich-tan,” he says, turning to face the other properly. “Don’t you know by now that I love to push boundaries?” And then his lips are on Licht’s own, and the pianist finds that it doesn’t bother him very much at all.
Hyde pulls away after a few seconds, eyes shining. “Will you keep being my muse?” He asks, and Licht huffs a laugh.
“Are you asking me out, you shit rat?” He returns, noting with pleasure that one of Hyde’s hand is resting on his shoulder and the other on his hip.
“Will you say yes if I am?” Hyde responds, and Licht leans up to kiss him as an answer.
*
It’s remarkably hard for Licht to concentrate on playing the piano right now, which is a problem he’s never had before in his life.
He has a strong suspicion that it has something to do with his boyfriend, who is doing his damndest to be the biggest distraction he can possibly be without actually doing anything out of line. Hyde is supposed to be rehearsing right now for the upcoming play next semester, but instead has made a game out of how much he can make Licht mess up his part.
Licht is both irritated as hell and fondly amused of the idiot he’s dating. He’s learned long ago that Hyde delights in causing trouble. He risks glancing over at the other just in time to see him pull a stupid face, causing a number of the clarinet players to snort and the brass section to laugh into their instruments, creating a terrible foghorn sound. Licht’s fingers dance over they keys they’re supposed to, but only barely. The orchestra snickers and murmurs and Hyde grins, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
Gil, however, has run out of patience.
“IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR PERKY LITTLE TITS BACK TO YOUR SIDE OF THE AUDITORIUM THIS BATON IS GOING WHERE THE SUN DON'T SHINE YOU RANDY LITTLE BASTARD!” Gil roars, snapping his baton in half in his rage. “AND LICHT, IF YOU DON’T FOCUS, SO HELP ME GOD I’LL HAVE YOU AND YOUR BOYFRIEND BANNED FROM THE NEXT PRODUCTION!”
Hyde’s laughter echoes through the auditorium as he dashes back to the safety of the stage, stopping only to blow Licht a kiss. Despite himself, Licht smiles.