Archive of Our Own

Balloon had never been much of a fan of heavy metal, but Nickel absolutely loved it. So when Nickel invited him to a concert, Balloon didn't hesitate to say yes. He'd go anywhere with his boyfriend if it made him happy. Now they were getting ready to leave.

Nickel stepped out of the shower, drying the last few strands of his hair before getting dressed. Once he was ready, Balloon couldn't help but stare.

Wow.

His usually messy grey hair was damp and slightly tousled, giving it a soft shine. He wore the band's black T-shirt, ripped black jeans, black-and-white high-top Converse, black wristbands, and a pair of fingerless gloves. Somehow, he managed to look effortlessly cool.

Balloon smiled to himself. He looks amazing...

There was something about that rough, rebellious style that Balloon found incredibly attractive.

Nickel glanced over at him and immediately burst into a grin.

"...Okay, you look adorable," he laughed. "But you seriously can't wear a red sweater over a white collared shirt to a heavy metal concert."

Balloon looked down at his outfit, cheeks warming. "Oh! Uh... I didn't really think about that."

Nickel walked over and gently took his hands. "Do you own anything... black?"

Balloon scratched the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile. "Black...? Um... maybe not? I don't think I do..."

Nickel snapped his fingers. "Wait—I have an idea, babe."

Before Balloon could ask what he meant, Nickel slipped the red sweater over his head and tossed it onto the bed. He rummaged through his wardrobe for a moment before pulling out a black tie.

"There we go." He looped it neatly around Balloon's collared shirt and adjusted it until it sat just right.

Nickel stepped back to admire his work. "There. You look... ska enough. I love it."

Balloon couldn't help but giggle. "Hehehe... very cool."

Truthfully, he didn't care whether he matched everyone else at the concert. Seeing Nickel so excited was more than enough for him. As long as his boyfriend was smiling, Balloon was happy too. He glanced at himself in the mirror. His salmon-coloured curls were tied back into a small bun, and with the black tie, he actually didn't look too bad.

Still… Compared to Nickel, he looked pretty tame. At least Nickel knew how to help him fit the occasion.

Balloon turned around with a warm smile. "So... excited?"

Nickel's face lit up instantly. "You bet your cute ass I am!" he laughed. "This is gonna be awesome. Thanks for coming with me, Balloon. I know this isn't really your kind of music, but... it means a lot that you're doing this for me."

He leaned forward and kissed Balloon softly. Balloon giggled into the kiss before wrapping his arms around Nickel and lifting him effortlessly off the floor. Nickel laughed, instinctively wrapping his legs around Balloon's waist as they shared another lingering kiss. 

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Knife finished getting ready for the concert and gave himself one last look in the mirror. He was dressed perfectly for the occasion: a sleeveless black shirt with the sleeves cut off almost like a vest, tight black leather pants, and chunky black boots that gave him a little extra height. His dark grey mullet brushed against his shoulders, and the eyeliner he had carefully applied made his eyes stand out even more. Combined with his eyebrow, nose, and ear piercings, he looked every bit the part of a heavy metal fan.

He smirked and turned to Trophy. "So... whatcha think?"

Trophy had completely frozen. He just stared. His cheeks slowly turned a brilliant shade of red, his expression caught somewhere between awe and irritation.

"...No."

Knife blinked. "No?"

"Absolutely not." Trophy pointed accusingly at him.

"Your muscles are showing way too much... and your ass is way too defined. What if some other guy starts checking you out?"

Without another word, Trophy shrugged off his red varsity jacket and draped it over Knife's shoulders.

Knife looked down at it before immediately pulling it off.

"I am not wearing your jacket, gay ass. Fuck that." He tossed it back at Trophy, who caught it with an annoyed huff.

…

"So..." He stepped closer with a teasing grin. "You think I look hot?" He gently hooked a finger beneath Trophy's chin, tilting his face upward until their eyes met. "You can just beat up anyone who looks at me. How's that?"

Trophy's face somehow became even redder. For just a second, his eyes softened as he looked at Knife, shimmering with quiet admiration before he quickly turned his head away, trying to hide how flustered he was.

"...Whatever." He grabbed his jacket again and slung it back over his shoulder. "But I swear... nobody better flirt with you."

Knife only chuckled.

Trophy wasn't exactly dressed for a heavy metal concert himself. He wore a white tank top beneath his red varsity jacket, black pants, and a pair of sneakers. His blond hair was neatly parted to either side, making him look more athletic than rebellious.

Not exactly heavy metal. But definitely not nerdy, either.

Knife thought he looked pretty damn hot regardless.

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Balloon and Nickel arrived at the venue well before the doors opened. They both had general admission standing tickets, which meant getting there early was practically mandatory if they wanted a good spot. The doors wouldn't open until 6:00 p.m., but they had shown up at 4:00 p.m., determined to be as close to the stage as possible.

Unfortunately… It seemed a few familiar faces had the exact same idea.

"Well, well... look who it is." A familiar voice came from behind them in the queue.

Knife.

He sauntered over with a crooked grin, hands tucked into his pockets, looking completely at home among the crowd of black band shirts and leather.

"I didn't exactly picture Balloon as the type to listen to bands like this."

His eyes drifted down Balloon's outfit. Balloon had tried his best. The black tie Nickel had lent him helped, but his blue jeans and bright pink Converse, decorated with tiny rainbow beads threaded through the laces, definitely clashed with the heavy metal aesthetic.

Knife smirked. "Nice shoes."

Balloon's cheeks instantly turned pink. He looked up at Knife for only a moment before quickly averting his eyes.

...Wow. Knife looked... really cool. The eyeliner, the leather pants, the piercings… He looked like he'd walked straight out of a music video.

Not cooler than Nickel, Balloon immediately corrected himself.

Definitely not. Besides, he couldn't keep looking anyway. For one, Trophy was standing right beside Knife, silently glaring at him like he was committing some kind of crime.

And two… Knife had just made fun of his shoes. Balloon instinctively looked down at his sneakers, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

Before he could say anything, Nickel stepped protectively in front of him.

"Leave him alone, asshole."

Knife let out an amused laugh before crouching down until he was eye level with Nickel.

"Wow..." he teased. "You actually look the part. Didn't know you had it in ya."

Nickel simply growled, blocking Balloon from Knife.

Meanwhile, Trophy remained completely silent. He stood beside Knife with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression flat and thoroughly unimpressed.

Judging by the look on his face… He didn’t seem to want to be here. 

Knife shrugged, completely unfazed by Nickel trying to block him. "Guess we're stuck in line together, huh?" he said with a grin. "Lemme guess, you two are trying to get to the front too?"

He chuckled. "Fair enough." His eyes drifted back to Balloon. "I just... didn't really picture him surviving a mosh pit." Knife smirked. "You know... everyone's shoving each other around, getting knocked into, people flying everywhere..." He tilted his head. "Balloon seems kinda... sensitive."

Being several inches taller than Nickel meant he could easily look right over him, making Nickel's attempt at shielding Balloon completely pointless.

Balloon frowned . "...Nickel..." He leaned in close, lowering his voice into a whisper only his boyfriend could hear. "You... didn't tell me about that..."

Nickel's expression immediately soured.

...Because he hadn't planned to. He knew Balloon would hate the idea the second he heard it, so he'd figured it was better to explain later, or maybe avoid bringing it up altogether until it was time.

Then Knife had gone and blurted it out. Of course he had. What a jerk.

"You'll be okay, babe. I promise." Nickel turned completely toward Balloon, lowering his voice as he gently held both of his hands. "Just stay close to the front barrier and keep your eyes on the stage. If you're not jumping into the crowd, nobody's gonna bother you."

Balloon nodded weakly, but the reassurance only seemed to settle him a little. His shoulders remained tense, his breathing just a touch too fast.

Knife watched the exchange with an amused grin before nudging Trophy with his elbow.

"...He's not gonna last."

Trophy barely reacted. He simply rolled his eyes. Honestly, he wasn't in the mood for any of this. He didn't even like heavy metal. The only reason he'd come was because Knife had wanted to, and now he was stuck standing in a noisy queue while his boyfriend looked ridiculously attractive.

Great.

Knife looked incredible. Too incredible. Every guy and girl in this line was probably going to be staring at him all night, and Trophy wasn't thrilled about that thought.

At all.

Meanwhile, Balloon's anxiety was only getting worse. Nickel cursed himself internally. He'd known this would happen if he'd mentioned the mosh pit beforehand, which was exactly why he'd kept quiet. Now Balloon looked overwhelmed, and it was entirely his fault.

He squeezed Balloon's hands reassuringly. "Baby... look at me."

Balloon slowly met his eyes.

"I promise I won't let anything happen to you. You know I'd never put you in danger."

"Awwww..." Knife cooed dramatically from beside them. "Babyyy."

He rested his cheek in his hand with an exaggerated smile. "You have to baby him 'cause he's too wimpy. That's adorable."

"Shut the fuck up, man!" Nickel snapped, spinning around. "You scared him!"

His fists clenched. He was getting dangerously close to punching Knife square in the face.

Trophy sighed. He could already tell this was about to turn into another argument. His eyes wandered away from the group and landed on a merchandise stand a short distance from the entrance.

"...Hey." He nudged Knife's shoulder. "There's a merch stand over there."

Knife turned to look. "Oh, sick."

"You want me to grab you anything?" Trophy asked casually.

Truthfully… He wanted an excuse to spoil his boyfriend a little.

And maybe if he bought Knife another shirt, he'd actually put it on over that sleeveless top.

Knife's grin widened. "Hell yeah! I'll stay here and hold our spot."

Nickel's eyes widened as he spotted the stand. "...Wait, what? I didn't even see that!" He turned back to Balloon.

"Babe, stay here. I'll be right back. I'll grab you a band shirt so you fit in a little better, maybe a beanie too... Ooh, and I wanna get some stuff for myself."

He leaned over and kissed Balloon's cheek. "I'll only be a minute."

"W-Wait..." Balloon quickly caught Nickel's hand before he could leave. "...Don't." His voice came out quieter than he intended. "Please don't leave me... I'm already really anxious."

Nickel's smile faltered. He looked back toward the merch stand. ...He really wanted to go.

Then he looked back at Balloon.

"...Hey." He sighed before glancing up at Knife. "Knife's here. He's a big tough guy."

Knife raised an eyebrow.

"He won't let anyone mess with you." Nickel shot Knife a hard glare. "You let anything happen to him, and I swear to God..."

Knife lifted both hands innocently. "Jeez, relax." A mischievous smirk spread across his face. "I'll keep an eye on your baby~. Go already."

Nickel narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "...I'll be quick."

He gave Balloon's hand one last reassuring squeeze before reluctantly letting go and jogging toward the merch stand after Trophy.

Within moments...

Balloon was left standing beside Knife.

Knife watched Nickel disappear into the crowd before glancing sideways at Balloon with a crooked grin. "So..." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "How's it feel knowing your boyfriend lied to you?"

Balloon frowned. "He didn't—"

Knife cut him off with a laugh. "Oh, come on. He knew you'd freak out. That's why he didn't tell you."

Balloon's shoulders stiffened. "...He just didn't want to worry me."

"Exactly." Knife shrugged. "Still lied." He looked Balloon up and down again. "And man..." he chuckled. "You stick out like a sore thumb."

Balloon instinctively looked down at himself.

"You don't look like you belong here at all." Knife smirked. "It's kinda cute."

Before Balloon could react, Knife casually slung an arm over his shoulders. "Poor Balloon..." He gestured toward the venue entrance. "You know you're probably gonna have a panic attack once that pit gets going."

Balloon swallowed.

Knife continued anyway. "Guys like you don't usually survive mosh pits very well." He laughed to himself. "And what? Little Nickel's gonna keep you safe?" Knife snorted. "Please."

"He's, what... four-eleven?" he teased. "Who's he gonna protect?" He reached over and ruffled Balloon's neatly tied-up curls, leaving several loose strands sticking out in every direction.

"H-Hey!" Balloon hurriedly tried smoothing his hair back down. "Stop it." His brows knitted together. "You're just trying to scare me."

Knife tilted his head. "Am I?" A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Or are you scared because you know I'm right?"

Balloon looked away with a small huff. "...You're mean."

"I've been called worse." Knife let the silence settle for a second before speaking again. "...Saw you staring at me earlier."

Balloon immediately froze.

Knife's grin widened. "You like the fit?"

Balloon's face turned bright pink. "I-I wasn't staring..."

"Oh?"

"I was just..." He fidgeted with the end of his black tie. "...Looking."

Knife folded his arms. "Looking at what?"

Balloon hesitated. "...You and Nickel kind of look similar tonight."

Knife raised an eyebrow. "Similar?"

"I mean..." Balloon quickly tried to explain. "You both have the dark clothes and... the fingerless gloves and stuff. But you're... more punk, I guess. I was just noticing the different styles."

Knife barked out a loud laugh. "HA! Nickel?" He pointed toward the merch line where Nickel was impatiently bouncing on his toes.

"Nickel's a twink. A scrawny little string bean." Knife smirked proudly at himself. "I look fucking fantastic."

He gestured dramatically down his outfit.

"Nickel looks like he's trying way too hard. It's hilarious."

Balloon couldn't help smiling. "H-He looks cute..."

Knife immediately looked at him. "Yeah." His grin turned mischievous. "Cute." He leaned in slightly. "But does he look hot?"

Balloon's blush somehow deepened. "Y-Yeah!" His voice cracked. "He... he does..." He looked over toward Nickel again, watching him wait in the merchandise line. "...I think he looks really cool."

Knife followed his gaze for a moment. "...Psh." He looked away. Whatever.

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. Then, without warning, Knife reached over and grabbed both of Balloon's wrists. Balloon jumped. "H-Huh?" Knife didn't answer. He simply unclasped the black leather wristbands from his own arms, thick bands covered in silver spikes and slid them onto Balloon instead.

The metal felt surprisingly heavy. Balloon stared down at them.

"...Uh..." His brain completely stopped working. "W-What..."

Knife adjusted one of the wristbands so it sat comfortably before stepping back to inspect his handiwork.

"There." He nodded once. "Your fit."

Balloon looked up. "...What?"

"You needed something." Knife shrugged as if it weren't a big deal. "Those rainbow shoes were fighting for their lives."

Balloon instinctively looked down at his pink Converse.

Knife continued. "The tie helped." He gestured toward the spiked wristbands. "These help more."

Balloon blinked. "...You're giving these to me?"

"For tonight." Knife looked away, pretending not to care. "Don't make it weird."

Balloon carefully ran a thumb over one of the silver spikes. "They're... really cool."

Knife rolled his eyes. "I know."

"...Thank you." 

Knife simply shoved his hands back into his pockets. "...Yeah." He refused to look at Balloon. "...Just don't lose 'em."

Balloon smiled faintly to himself. Knife really did have a funny way of being nice ...Or maybe that wasn't it at all. Maybe this was just another one of Knife's little games. Balloon glanced down at the spiked wristbands now wrapped around his wrists. Knife loved trying to one-up Nickel. Ever since they'd met, the two of them had been locked in an endless competition, constantly trying to outdo each other over the smallest things.

Maybe the black tie Nickel had given him wasn't enough. So Knife had to add his own touch. Not because he cared… But because he wanted to prove he could do it better. That sounded much more like Knife. Balloon couldn't help smiling to himself. It was honestly kind of ridiculous.

Knife and Nickel were so alike it was almost funny. They'd never admit it, of course, they'd probably start another argument if anyone pointed it out, but they were both stubborn, loud, fiercely protective of the people they cared about, and determined to come out on top in every little contest they invented.

They were practically the same person. Which was probably exactly why they couldn't stand each other.

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Nickel hurried over to the merchandise stand, slightly out of breath from weaving through the crowd. Trophy was already waiting in line with his arms crossed, glancing over as Nickel joined him.

"Surprised you left Balloon alone," Trophy said with a knowing smirk.

"What?" Nickel frowned. "He'll be fine. Knife's there."

Trophy let out a dry laugh. "...Yeah. Exactly."

Nickel blinked.

"You do realize Knife's probably filling Balloon's head with every horror story about the mosh pit right now, right?" Trophy said flatly. "God, you're a dumbass sometimes."

Nickel's eyes widened. "...Shit." He buried his face in his hands for a second. "I didn't even think about that..." He groaned dramatically before looking toward the painfully slow-moving queue. "Come on... hurry up! I need to get back to him."

A quiet chuckle escaped Trophy. At least watching Nickel panic made this concert a little more entertaining.

After a moment, his expression softened. "...You know," he said, "it's actually pretty sweet what Balloon's doing for you."

Nickel looked over. "What?"

"You should appreciate it more."

"I do appreciate it!"

Trophy gave him a skeptical look. "Mm-hm. Sure."

Nickel frowned.

Trophy sighed. "He doesn't care about this band." He gestured toward the venue. "He doesn't care about heavy metal. He probably couldn't name three songs they're gonna play tonight."

Nickel stayed quiet.

"But he's still here." Trophy looked him straight in the eye. "He's standing in line for hours, knowing he's probably gonna be uncomfortable, because you love this." His voice carried an unusual seriousness. "He knows how much tonight means to you. He wants to be part of your world because it makes you happy." A pause. "So maybe... show him a little more respect, yeah?"

Nickel stared at him. "...Dude."

"What?"

"What's with the attitude?"

Trophy looked away.

"You and Balloon aren't even friends."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Why are you so worked up about this?"

The words hung in the air. Trophy realized he'd said a little too much.

"...Fuck off."

Nickel blinked. Then… He looked Trophy up and down. His eyes slowly widened.

"...Oh.OH!" A grin spread across his face. "You don't wanna be here either!"

Trophy immediately scowled. 

"You're projecting!" Nickel pointed at him, laughing. "You only came because Knife wanted to come! You're doing the exact same thing Balloon's doing!" He burst out laughing. "HAHA! Dude, you're such a softie!"

"Oh, fuck off, Nickel." Trophy's patience snapped. "Seriously. You're such an annoying little shit." He folded his arms tighter. "No wonder nobody likes you."

Nickel's smile faded a little.

"I'm here because I don't want every desperate asshole in this venue trying to flirt with my boyfriend." He glanced toward the entrance. "Knife's..." He sighed. "...Spontaneous. I know what he's like." His jaw tightened. "And I am not dealing with people throwing themselves at him all night."

Nickel's teasing expression slowly disappeared. "...Dude..."

He'd expected Trophy to yell back. Not... Whatever this was.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I mean… I'm sure Knife—"

"He doesn't think about how I feel." Trophy interrupted him immediately. "And honestly..." His eyes narrowed. "You and Knife aren't that different."

Nickel frowned. "What?"

"This whole night has been about you." Trophy jabbed a finger toward him. "Balloon's doing everything because you wanted this."

Nickel opened his mouth, but Trophy kept going.

"Same as me." His voice dropped quieter. "...Knife can't even do one little thing for me." He laughed bitterly. "I hate when people stare at him." He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly sounding embarrassed by his own admission. "It just..." He sighed. "It makes me uncomfortable."

Nickel was quiet for a moment. "...People are gonna look." Trophy didn't answer. "I mean..." Nickel shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah, I'd probably hate it if people looked at Balloon like that too."

He glanced toward the venue entrance. "But… You chose to date Knife." A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "He's kinda... impossible not to look at."

Trophy exhaled through his nose. "Whatever. Just... piss off."

Thankfully, the line finally moved. Trophy stepped up to the counter first.

"I'll take two of those shirts."

One for himself. One for Knife. The total came to $130. He paid without hesitation before stepping aside.

Nickel moved up next. "I'll grab two shirts..." He glanced over the display. "...And one of those beanies too." The cashier smiled. "That'll be $170." Nickel paid, grabbed the merchandise, and immediately hurried after Trophy.

A few minutes later, Nickel and Trophy made their way back to the line. To Nickel's surprise, Balloon and Knife were... actually talking. Knife had his phone out, scrolling through the band's setlist while Balloon leaned over to look. Balloon probably didn't recognize a single song, but he listened anyway, nodding politely as Knife pointed out which ones he was excited for.

More importantly… Balloon didn't look nearly as anxious anymore. Nickel let out a quiet sigh of relief. Good. He hurried over with a smile.

"I got you stuff!" He gently pulled a black beanie over Balloon's salmon curls before handing him one of the band's T-shirts.

Balloon's face brightened. "Thanks."

He immediately slipped the shirt on over his collared shirt, tugging the collar neatly over the neckline. Even dressed in band merchandise, with the black tie and spiked wristbands, he somehow still managed to look impossibly sweet.

He didn't exactly blend in… But Nickel thought he looked adorable. Nickel grinned to himself before pulling his own newly purchased shirt over the one he was already wearing. Two band shirts?

Whatever. Worth it.

He was so focused on Balloon’s expression that he completely failed to notice the spiked wristbands around his boyfriend's wrists.

Beside them, Trophy unceremoniously tossed a folded shirt at Knife.

"Here."

Knife caught it with one hand.

Meanwhile, Trophy shrugged off his red varsity jacket and quickly pulled on his own band shirt before putting the jacket back over the top.

At least now he looked like he belonged at the concert.

Knife, however… Simply stood there holding his shirt.

Trophy frowned. "...Put it on."

Knife looked up. "Why?" He gestured down at himself. "I'm fine with what I'm wearing."

Trophy's jaw tightened. "People can still stare at your ass." His eyes flicked toward Knife's exposed arms. "And at least cover your abs."

Knife couldn't stop himself from grinning. "...Aww." He leaned closer. "You really don't want people looking at me?" His grin widened. "That's kinda protective."

"Put the fucking shirt on." Trophy's voice was sharp enough to cut through the surrounding chatter.

"...Alright, jeez." Knife rolled his eyes. Instead of simply pulling the shirt over his vest… He peeled the sleeveless vest off first. For one brief moment… He was completely shirtless.

Several people nearby immediately glanced over.

Knife was lean, muscular, and covered in defined muscle from years of training.

Balloon's eyes went wide. Nickel reacted even faster. He immediately slapped both hands over Balloon's eyes. "You don't get to look."

Balloon laughed nervously. "I-I wasn't trying to!"

Knife burst out laughing.

"Heh. Jealous?"

Nickel shot him an unamused glare. "Shut up."

Trophy, meanwhile, looked absolutely horrified. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Knife finally pulled the band shirt over his head before slipping the sleeveless vest back on over the top. "There." He dusted off his hands. "Happy?"

Trophy's expression didn't soften in the slightest. "...Don't."

Knife blinked. "What?"

"You know exactly how I feel." His voice was low, controlled, but every word dripped with frustration. "And you still pulled that stunt." He glared directly at Knife. "Fucking asshole. It's like you're trying to piss me off."

Knife's teasing smile faded just a little. "...I just wanted to wear the vest over it."

Trophy didn't answer. Instead, his eyes drifted toward Knife's wrists. "...Where are your wristbands?"

Knife shrugged casually. "Gave 'em to Balloon." He nodded toward Balloon. "That tie wasn't doing his outfit any justice."

"...What?" Nickel finally noticed the spiked wristbands. His eyes widened. He looked from Balloon… To Knife… Then back again.

"...He doesn't need them." Nickel frowned. "He's perfect the way he is."

Knife smirked down at him. "I know. But they look better."

"...Wow." Trophy muttered quietly, just loud enough for Nickel to hear. "Now you say that."

Nickel ignored him. Balloon looked down at the wristbands, turning one over in his hands.

"...Actually..." He smiled sheepishly. "...I kinda think they're really cool."

Nickel paused. "...Seriously?"

Balloon nodded. "...Yeah. They're nice."

Nickel sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck. "...Fine." He looked over at Knife. "...Whatever." What really annoyed him wasn't the wristbands. It was the look on Knife's face. That smug, self-satisfied grin. Like he'd somehow won. Like Nickel had lost another one of their ridiculous little competitions. God… Knife always had to turn everything into a contest.

Meanwhile, Trophy had completely shut down. He folded his arms tightly across his chest and deliberately turned away from Knife, refusing to look at him. He took a slow breath. Then another. He wasn't speaking. Because if he did… He was fairly certain he'd lose his temper.

As the queue continued creeping forward, a staff member suddenly called out over the crowd.

"Attention everyone! Due to the incoming storm, we'll be opening the doors early at 5:30 p.m."

The line immediately came alive with excited chatter.

"Let's go!" Nickel practically bounced on his feet.

Within minutes, the queue began moving steadily. One by one, concertgoers had their tickets scanned before security performed quick pat-downs, checking for prohibited items like vapes, weapons, and anything else that wasn't allowed inside.

Soon enough, the four of them were waved through. "Floor's straight ahead!" A staff member pointed them toward the general admission area.

Nickel and Knife didn't hesitate. Front row. Nothing else mattered. They hurried through the venue until they reached the barrier, squeezing into a spot directly in front of the stage before the crowd became too dense. People were already flooding onto the floor, shoulder to shoulder. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation.

After only a minute, Trophy finally spoke. "...I'm gonna grab a drink." His voice was flat. It was the first thing he'd said since the argument with Knife. He glanced back toward the concourse. The crowd was already thickening, and getting back to the barrier wouldn't be easy. Not that he cared. He could push his way through if he had to.

"I'll come."

Everyone looked at Balloon. His smile had disappeared. There were already far more people packed onto the floor than he'd expected, and he could feel his chest tightening.

His stomach churned. The noise. The bodies. The lack of space… It was all becoming a little overwhelming.

Nickel immediately noticed.

"Babe..." He reached for Balloon's hand. "Are you sure?" He glanced toward the sea of people behind them. "I mean... once you leave, getting back to the front's gonna be really hard."

He didn't want Balloon getting shoved around.

"He'll be fine." Trophy answered before Balloon could. "I'll get him back."

Nickel looked uncertain. He glanced toward Knife. Knife hadn't said a word. He was staring silently at the stage, jaw tight, pretending to be fascinated by the lighting rig overhead. He still hadn't recovered from his argument with Trophy.

"...Okay." Nickel sighed. "If you need some air, go." He squeezed Balloon's shoulder reassuringly. "Just... stay close to Trophy."

Balloon nodded. "I will." Without another word, Trophy began leading the way through the growing crowd. Balloon stayed close, lightly holding onto Trophy's arm so they wouldn't get separated.

Eventually they made it out into the concourse, where food vendors, drink stands, and merchandise stalls lined the walls. As soon as they reached the open space, Balloon let go. For a few moments, they walked in silence.

"...Trophy?" Balloon finally spoke.

"Hm?"

"...Are you okay?"

Trophy didn't even look at him. "I'm fine." …  "Why wouldn't I be?" He scoffed. "What kind of stupid question is that?" They continued walking toward one of the bars. "I just need a drink." His tone made it clear he wasn't interested in talking.

Balloon hesitated. "...I know you're upset with Knife."

Trophy didn't respond. Balloon kept going anyway.

"...He shouldn't have done that." Still nothing. "I don't think he was trying to actually hurt you."

Trophy's expression remained unreadable.

"I think..." Balloon searched for the right words. "...I think he likes getting a reaction out of people."

He looked down at the spiked wristbands around his wrists. "I've noticed he does it all the time. He teases people... pushes their buttons..." A small shrug. "I think he genuinely finds it funny. I think he probably thinks you're cute when you get jealous."

Trophy snorted quietly.

"...Problem is..." Balloon continued softly. "...You don't think it's funny."

"No. I don't."

Balloon nodded. "And with Nickel..." He fiddled absentmindedly with one of the spikes. "...I think he was trying to one-up him." He sighed. "I don't think he gave me these because I needed them." He smiled awkwardly. "I think he wanted Nickel to feel like he'd done a better job."

Trophy let out a long breath through his nose. "...Exactly." He finally looked over at Balloon. "So you get why it pissed me off?"

Balloon nodded immediately. "Yeah."

Trophy rubbed a hand over his face. "He shows more consideration to you than he does to me." His voice carried weeks of bottled-up frustration. "I didn't even want to come to this stupid concert." He gestured vaguely toward the arena. "I don't even like this band. I came because he wanted to. Because I care about him." His shoulders slumped. "I wanted to see him happy." His laugh was bitter. "But he couldn't even do one thing I asked."

"One. Simple.Thing."

"Instead he turned it into a joke." He shook his head. "So when we came back..."

His eyes drifted toward Balloon's wristbands again. "...And I saw him giving you that kind of attention..." He clenched his jaw. "...Yeah. It pissed me off."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Trophy sighed. "...I actually went off at Nickel while we were waiting in the merch line."

Balloon blinked. "...Really?"

"Yeah. I had a go at him for leaving you alone, and for lying about the mosh pit. Honestly… I was mostly taking my frustration with Knife out on him." He gave a tired laugh. "But then..." His expression softened. "...Nickel actually listened. He realized he'd screwed up. He cared." Trophy looked down at the floor. "So..." He shrugged helplessly. "If Nickel can stop, think about how Balloon feels, and try to make it right..." His voice became quieter. "...Why can't Knife do the same for me?"

They reached the bar at the edge of the concourse, where the noise of the crowd was a little more bearable. Trophy stepped up to the counter.

"Just a Coke."

Balloon blinked. "...That's it?"

The bartender handed over the soft drink, and Trophy paid before leading Balloon off to the side. Balloon tilted his head. "I thought you were going to get... you know... alcohol?"

Trophy let out a quiet laugh. "Pff." He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small stainless-steel flask. "Already got that covered." He unscrewed the cap, revealing the smell of whiskey. "I snuck this in." With practiced ease, he poured some of the Coke into the flask, then screwed the lid back on and gave it a gentle shake. "I just needed a mixer."

"...Oh." Balloon watched him curiously. "I see."

Trophy took a sip from the flask before slipping it back into his pocket.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Balloon quietly broke the silence.

"...It was really nice of you to come tonight."

Trophy looked over. "What?"

"You don't even like this band." Balloon smiled softly. "But you still came." His fingers fidgeted together. "That... says a lot. It shows how much you care about Knife."

Trophy looked away. "I guess."

"And..." Balloon hesitated before continuing. "I mean… It's understandable that you're jealous." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "...Knife is... kind of a looker."

The words slipped out before he could stop them. Balloon immediately covered his mouth. "...Sorry!" His face turned bright pink. "That wasn't appropriate."

Trophy snorted. "...Nah." He took another sip. "It's fine." A small pause. "I mean..." He sighed. "...Sometimes it's just a confidence thing." His eyes stayed fixed on the floor. "Like..." He laughed quietly at himself. "...How the hell did I manage to date someone like that?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess… I'm scared that one day he'll realize he could do better." The confession came out much quieter than everything else he'd said that evening. "I hate acting like some toxic, controlling boyfriend."

He frowned. "Telling him what he can and can't wear… I don't want to be that person." He swallowed. "...I just don't want him realizing there's someone better than me."

"Trophy..." Balloon's expression softened. "You should tell him that."

Trophy immediately shook his head. "No."

"If he knew how you actually felt..." Balloon continued gently, "...he might understand why you react the way you do." He smiled. "Communication's really important."

Trophy gave a dry laugh. "...I hate talking about how I feel." He took another drink. "I hate this." His shoulders slumped. "I feel weak… Pathetic." He scoffed at himself. "Why can't I just man up and stop acting like a baby?"

Balloon frowned. "Showing your feelings doesn't make you a baby." He shook his head. "It doesn't make you any less of a man either." Trophy stayed silent. "You know..." Balloon smiled to himself. "Nickel and I weren't always like this."

Trophy looked over curiously.

"We used to clash all the time." He laughed quietly. "Before we started dating... we slowly became friends, and the biggest reason for that..." He looked down at his hands. "...Was because we learned how to actually tell each other when something hurt us."

"We talked, we listened, we explained why certain things upset us instead of expecting the other person to just know." He smiled warmly. "We're definitely not perfect. Sometimes we still mess up." He chuckled. "Actually… We mess up a lot, but we always work through it, because we take the time to understand each other."

Trophy stared into his drink. "...Damn." He smiled despite himself. "...That's so gay."

Balloon burst into laughter. "Well..." He nudged Trophy lightly with his elbow. "Love's kinda gay." A playful grin spread across his face. "Especially when you're dating another guy."

Trophy couldn't help letting out a quiet laugh. "...Yeah. I guess it is."

Balloon smiled. "Come on. Don't let this ruin your night."

He gestured toward the arena where the crowd continued cheering as more people poured inside. "We're both here for the same reason. To see our boyfriends smile."

He nudged Trophy again. "I know you want Knife to be happy."

Trophy nodded silently.

"So..." Balloon smiled. "When the concert's over… Talk to him. Don't just bury how you're feeling." He looked Trophy in the eyes. "Knife can't understand something you never tell him."

Trophy was quiet for several seconds. Then he sighed. "...Yeah, You're probably right." It annoyed him just how right Balloon was.

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Left at the barrier without their boyfriends, Knife and Nickel stood in an awkward silence. The venue speakers blasted heavy metal tracks to keep the crowd energized while everyone waited for the headlining band. Around them, fans were chanting, laughing, and shoving their way closer to the front.

Neither of them was paying much attention. Nickel glanced sideways. Knife looked... off. Gone was the smug grin he'd been wearing all afternoon. He just stared at the stage, jaw set, clearly replaying the argument with Trophy in his head.

After a long silence, Nickel finally spoke. "...You know, I actually talked to Trophy while we were in the merch line."

Knife looked over immediately. "...Yeah?"

"He doesn't even want to be here."

Knife frowned. "What?"

"He doesn't even like this band."

"...Bullshit."

"I'm serious."

Knife turned to face him completely. "No, he does."

Nickel shook his head. "Nope. He came because you wanted to." The words hung in the air. "...Same reason Balloon's here."

Nickel sighed. "I actually feel kinda bad."

Knife raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"I dragged Balloon to something he doesn't even enjoy." Nickel rubbed the back of his neck. "He only came because he knows how much tonight means to me." He smiled to himself. "I should do something for him after this." Nickel shrugged. "Take him out for ice cream, or wherever he wants to go. Just... something he actually enjoys."

Knife stayed quiet. "...Why would Trophy come if he didn't want to?" he muttered. "If he's just gonna spend the whole night looking miserable."

Nickel gave him an incredulous look. "...Seriously?"

Knife blinked.

"He came for you, dumbass." The words landed harder than Knife expected. "He even spent over a hundred bucks buying you that shirt." Nickel gestured toward Knife's outfit. "He just wanted to see you happy." His expression hardened. "And then you spent the afternoon deliberately winding him up instead of thinking about how he was feeling."

Knife scoffed. "Oh, fuck off. This is about the shirt thing again, isn't it?"

Nickel folded his arms. "It's about all of it."

Knife ran a hand through his hair. "He needs to stop getting so damn jealous." He sighed. "It's like..." He hesitated. "...It's like he actually thinks I'm gonna leave him."

Nickel looked him dead in the eye. "...Are you?"

Knife's head snapped toward him. "What? Fuck no." The answer came instantly. He frowned. "I..." Talking about feelings was bad enough. Talking about them with Nickel of all people somehow made it worse. He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. "...I like Trophy." His voice dropped. "I like being with him."

Nickel nodded. "I know." Another pause. "Maybe you should remind him of that."

Knife looked confused.

"When he's feeling insecure..." Nickel shrugged. "Maybe instead of making him jealous… Try making him feel appreciated."

Knife frowned thoughtfully.

Nickel continued. "He probably thinks you're out of his league."

Knife blinked. "...Seriously?"

"Dude." Nickel laughed. "Look at you. You spend half your life looking like a rockstar."

Knife rolled his eyes.

"Oh, shut up."

"I'm serious." Nickel smirked. "If he already struggles with confidence… and then you intentionally tease him by showing off… Can you really blame him for freaking out?"

Knife looked away. He'd never really considered it like that. "I was just messing around."

"I know." Nickel nodded. "But he probably doesn't hear it as teasing."

"He hears..." Nickel searched for the words. "...That you're showing off for everyone except him."

Knife stayed quiet.

"So..." Nickel shrugged. "Instead of trying to make him jealous… Why not tell him you dressed up because you wanted him to think you looked hot?"

Knife let out a small laugh. "...That's cheesy."

"It is." Nickel grinned. "But it'd probably work." He shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not exactly the relationship expert." He laughed. "That's more Balloon's department."

Knife huffed out an amused breath. "...Yeah." His gaze drifted toward the concourse where Trophy had disappeared. "I guess...I really didn't think about it. I just wanted to mess around with him." He sighed. "I never actually wanted to make him upset." … "...He really said that?"

Nickel nodded. "Yeah. He literally said he only came because of you."

Knife stared silently toward the entrance. "...That's weird."

Nickel raised an eyebrow. "Weird?"

"Trophy doesn't do things he doesn't want to do." Knife frowned. "He always says it's a waste of time."

"So… Why would he make an exception?"

Nickel smiled knowingly. "...Because he really likes you."

Knife looked at him. "He wants to keep you, he just..." Nickel shrugged. "...Gets scared that one day he'll lose you."

Knife slowly looked back toward the concourse. "...Huh." For the first time that evening… He realized Trophy's jealousy might not have come from possessiveness at all.

Maybe… It came from fear.

After a few minutes, Trophy and Balloon finally fought their way back through the crowd. It was much harder now. The floor had filled up considerably, and every step forward meant squeezing between people who had been guarding their spots for hours.

"Oi! Watch it!"

"Seriously?"

"We've been standing here for two hours!"

Trophy didn't even acknowledge the complaints. He simply kept pushing through the crowd, carving a path toward the barrier. Balloon clung tightly to his hand, trying not to get separated.

"S-Sorry..."

"Sorry!"

"Oh, excuse me..."

He apologized to nearly everyone they accidentally bumped into, his face growing redder each time. Most people ignored him, while others grumbled under their breath.

Everything felt so loud. So crowded. So intimidating. Thankfully, after a few more seconds, they finally reached the front again.

"Balloon!" Nickel's face immediately lit up. He hurried over and gently took Balloon's hand.

"You okay?" His voice softened with concern.

Balloon let out a relieved breath. "It's... really busy." He laughed nervously.

"But I'm okay now that I'm back with you." He instinctively stepped closer until their shoulders touched. "...Can you hold my hand during the concert? I'm worried I'll get lost."

Without hesitation, Nickel intertwined their fingers. "Of course, babe." He smiled warmly. "I've got you."

Balloon smiled back, visibly relaxing.

Meanwhile, Trophy stopped beside Knife. An awkward silence settled between them.

"...Hey."

Knife turned around. "Hey, Trophy, I—"

"I'm sorry." Trophy cut him off before he could finish.

Knife blinked. "...What? What're you apologizing for?"

Trophy huffed , clearly uncomfortable. "...For earlier. The way I acted. I just—"

"No." Knife shook his head. "I was literally about to apologize first."

Trophy looked up in surprise.

Knife sighed. "I was being an idiot." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I thought it was funny making you jealous." He gave an awkward shrug. "I didn't think… I didn't think it was actually hurting you."

Trophy looked away. "...It's not really about that."

Knife frowned. "Then what is it?"

Trophy hesitated. Then, very quietly… "...I'm scared."

Knife's expression softened immediately. "...Scared of what?"

Trophy stared down at the floor. "...Losing you." The words barely escaped above the noise of the crowd. "There are so many people here..." He laughed bitterly. "They're all way more your type." He gestured vaguely around the venue. "They're into the same music, they dress like you, they're actually... cool." He looked down at his own clothes. "I'm just… A jock."

"I don't fit in here." His voice grew quieter. "I guess I kept thinking… What if someone better comes along? What if one day you decide you'd rather be with someone like them instead?" He groaned, covering part of his face. "Jesus..." "Saying that out loud sounds so fucking stupid." He took a long sip from his flask.

Knife stepped closer until they were face to face. "...Trophy." Trophy slowly looked up. "I only tease you because I like your reactions. This..." He gestured to himself. "The clothes, the eyeliner. All of it, It's not for anyone else." He smiled sheepishly. "Sure… The attention's kinda fun. But honestly? I mostly just like seeing you look at me."

Knife laughed awkwardly. "I like when you get all possessive." He scratched at his cheek. "...It's hot."

A smile spread across Trophy's face despite himself. "...Seriously?"

Knife groaned. "Ugh… Don't make me repeat it." His ears were starting to turn pink. "I wear this stuff because..." He sighed. "...I like impressing you. I like seeing your face when I walk out looking good. I kinda like it when you get protective."

Trophy burst out laughing. "...That's fucking gay."

Knife immediately pointed at him. "Oh yeah? It's pretty gay that you came to a heavy metal concert you don't even like just because you wanted to make me happy."

Trophy froze. "...Nickel told you?"

Knife folded his arms. "...Why didn't you tell me?"

Trophy rolled his eyes. "...Pfft. That little snitch." He sighed. "I figured you'd already know." He looked down at himself. "I didn't even bother dressing for the concert. I just wore what I always wear." He shrugged. "I knew how much this meant to you. You always come with me when I drag you to sporting events… Or when I spend hours taking photos."

Knife frowned. "First of all… I like going to sports games, and second..." A small smile appeared on Knife's face. "I like watching you do photography, they're not lame. I go because I want to." He nudged Trophy's shoulder. "And yeah… I know it makes you happy. but I'd never want you doing something you genuinely hated just for me."

Trophy smiled softly. "...But I wanted to. I mean..." Trophy shrugged. "I don't really care about the concert. I just..." He smiled shyly. "...Wanted to see you smile."

Knife couldn't help smiling back. "...That's so unbelievably gay."

"It really is." Trophy laughed.

After a moment, he glanced at Knife's layered shirt and vest. "...You know… You can take the shirt off later if you want." He shrugged casually. "It's gonna get hot in here anyway."

Knife's grin immediately returned. "Oho..." He leaned in close. "So… You just wanna look at my abs again?"

Trophy rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh. "...Shut up."

Knife chuckled before slipping an arm around Trophy's waist and pulling him a little closer. "I think..." He smirked. "I'll keep the shirt on a little longer." He leaned in until they were almost nose to nose. "Make you wait for it." Trophy snorted. "...You're such an asshole."

"Yeah… I know.”

Knife closed the small gap between them without another word. He cupped Trophy's waist and pulled him in, pressing a firm kiss against his lips. There was a faint taste of whiskey. He didn't mind. Not even a little. Trophy melted into the kiss almost instantly, smiling against Knife's lips as he wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. Their kiss lingered, slow and unhurried, as the noise of the crowd seemed to fade into the background. When they finally separated, Trophy rested his forehead against Knife's for a moment.

Balloon had been right. Talking about how he felt had actually helped. He still hated opening up. It had been awkward. Embarrassing. He'd felt completely exposed. But now… Everything felt lighter. There wasn't a knot sitting in his chest anymore. Knife understood. They were finally on the same page.

Balloon happened to glance over just in time to catch the two of them kissing. A small smile spread across his face. He gently nudged Nickel with his elbow.

"Hm?" Nickel looked over.

Balloon nodded toward Knife and Trophy.

"...Let me guess. You talked to Trophy too?" Nickel chuckled.

"Why?" Balloon asks. "Were you talking to Knife?"

"I might have." Nickel laughed. "...Those two are hopeless." He folded his arms proudly. "We've totally mastered this relationship thing."

Balloon raised an eyebrow. "...Have we now?"

Nickel puffed out his chest dramatically. "I think we'd make excellent relationship counselors."

Balloon couldn't help laughing. "Oh really?" He turned to face his boyfriend with an amused smile. "I heard Trophy snapped at you earlier."

Nickel groaned dramatically. "...Hey." He pointed a finger at Balloon. "I admitted I screwed up." He smiled sheepishly. “It took me practically spelling everything out for Knife before he finally got it."

Balloon chuckled. "I was only teasing." His expression softened. "I wasn't upset with you."

Nickel tilted his head. "...You weren't?"

Balloon shook his head. "I know you only kept the mosh pit a secret because you were worried about how I'd react." He smiled gently. "I understand why you did it."

Nickel looked relieved. 

"...But..." Balloon poked his chest with one finger. "Don't lie to me again." His tone stayed warm. "Just tell me, we'll figure it out together." He intertwined their fingers again. "I knew this probably wasn't going to be my kind of place." He looked up at Nickel. "I still wanted to come, because seeing you happy makes me happy." Balloon reached up and gently cupped Nickel's cheek.

Nickel's grin softened into something far more affectionate.  "...I'm always happy when I'm with you~"

Balloon laughed quietly. "I'm glad."

Instead of kissing his lips, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss between Nickel's eyes. Nickel's entire face warmed.  "...You're so cute." Balloon hummed.

Without warning… The lights throughout the venue suddenly went dark. The crowd erupted. A second later, bright spotlights burst to life across the stage. The opening music thundered through the speakers.

Nickel's eyes went impossibly wide. "OHHH! They're on!" He immediately spun toward the stage, practically bouncing with excitement while still refusing to let go of Balloon's hand. Balloon simply smiled to himself. Seeing Nickel this excited… Made every bit of anxiety worth it.

Beside them, Knife broke away from Trophy just as the stage lights exploded to life.

"FINALLY!" His face lit up with excitement. Trophy let out an amused sigh. There he was. The smile he'd been hoping to see all night. Maybe the concert itself wasn't really his thing… But seeing Knife this happy? That made coming worthwhile.

As the crowd surged forward, Trophy casually slipped one hand into Knife's back pocket, keeping him close. Knife glanced back with a smirk.

"What?"

"...Nothing." Trophy shrugged innocently. "...Just making sure nobody gets any ideas."

Knife laughed. "So possessive."

"...Damn right." Trophy grinned to himself.

Yeah. That's my ridiculously cool, punk boyfriend. I get to call him mine.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎━━━━━━﹙ ୨ 🎕 ୧﹚━━━━━━༒︎⊰‿̩͙

The concert ended up going far better than anyone expected. Trophy never really got into the music. He couldn't have named half the songs, and the crushing volume wasn't exactly his thing. Every now and then he'd take another sip from his flask, letting the whiskey warm his chest before slipping it back into his pocket.

Most of the night, though… He wasn't watching the stage. He was watching Knife. Knife knew every lyric by heart. He shouted every chorus, threw his fist into the air, headbanged with the crowd, and wore the biggest grin Trophy had seen in weeks. It was infectious. Trophy found himself smiling without even realizing it, simply admiring him. Maybe he didn't love the band… But he loved seeing Knife this happy. That alone made the entire night worth it.

Balloon's experience was a little different. He barely let go of Nickel's hand for the entire concert. At first, he'd been terrified. Knife's descriptions of the mosh pit had convinced him the whole floor would be complete chaos. But… It wasn't nearly as bad as he'd imagined. The mosh pit stayed closer to the middle of the crowd, while everyone packed against the front barrier seemed much more interested in watching the performance than shoving each other around.

No one bothered him. No one pushed him. Nickel kept hold of his hand the entire time, just like he'd promised. Little by little… Balloon relaxed. Instead of worrying about the crowd, he found himself watching Nickel sing along at the top of his lungs, laughing whenever he completely missed a lyric or got a little too excited. Seeing him so genuinely happy made Balloon smile just as much as the music made Nickel smile.

Before long, the final song came to an end. The band waved goodbye, the stage lights faded, and the bright house lights slowly flickered back on after hours of darkness broken only by flashing spotlights. The audience erupted into cheers before beginning the slow shuffle toward the exits.

The four of them stayed where they were. There was no point fighting thousands of people all trying to leave at once. They could wait a few extra minutes.

Trophy rubbed one of his ears with a grimace. "...God. That was loud." Definitely not his kind of music. Still… He didn't regret coming. Not for a second. Seeing Knife enjoy himself like that had been enough. The only downside… He'd finished almost the entire flask. The splash of Coke he'd poured in earlier hadn't done much to dilute it.

Now he was definitely feeling it. "...Whoops." He leaned heavily against Knife's shoulder, his balance noticeably worse than before.

Knife laughed quietly as he wrapped an arm around Trophy's waist to keep him upright. "Easy there."

"I'm fiiiine." Trophy slurred slightly, pointing a finger toward him. "You've got... two of you."

Knife snorted. "I do?"

"Mhm." Trophy squinted. "...No. Wait. One." He nodded proudly.

"There you are." Knife couldn't stop laughing.

"Lightweight."

"I am not."

Trophy immediately leaned even more of his weight onto him. "...Shut up."

Knife tightened his hold so he wouldn't stumble. "Yeah, yeah. I've got you."

A few feet away, Balloon rubbed at his tired eyes before letting out a huge yawn. He instinctively leaned against Nickel, cuddling into his side. Nickel smiled down at him.

"Tired?"

Balloon nodded sleepily. "...A little."

Nickel thought for a moment before grinning. "...Hey."

Balloon looked up.

"You wanna go get some ice cream or something?" He checked the time on his phone. It was already 10:00 p.m. "...McDonald's should still be serving soft serve."

Balloon's tired face immediately brightened. "...Really?"

Nickel chuckled. "Yeah. I think we earned it,”

"...Did you two want to come with us?" Balloon asked politely.

Knife glanced over. "Huh?"

Before he could answer, Trophy looked up with unfocused eyes. "...Where're we goin'?" His words slurred together just enough to make Knife laugh.

"We're not going anywhere." Knife shook his head with an amused smile. "Trophy's a little... out of it."

Trophy frowned. "'M fine."

Knife patted him on the shoulder. "Sure you are."

He looked back at Balloon and Nickel. "I'm just gonna get him home." He gave them a small wave. "See you guys."

"...See ya!" Nickel waved back.

"Have a safe drive," Balloon added with a warm smile.

As Knife turned away, he found himself glancing back at the two of them one last time.

Maybe... They weren't so bad after all. Sure, Nickel was still loud, annoying, and way too eager to argue. And Balloon was… Well… Balloon. But today, the two of them had done something he never would have expected. They'd helped him understand Trophy. Who knew where tonight would've ended if they hadn't been there? Maybe he and Trophy would've spent the whole concert angry at each other. Maybe… Things could've gotten a lot worse. Knife quietly decided he owed them one.

By the time they stepped outside, most of the crowd had already cleared out. The cool night air rushed over them, a welcome change after hours spent packed inside the hot venue.

Balloon shivered. "Ooh… It's cold."

Nickel immediately reached over and slipped an arm around his shoulders. "C'mon. Our car's this way." The two of them wandered off together toward the parking lot a few blocks away, talking quietly between themselves, occasionally breaking into laughter over something only they understood. Neither of them stopped smiling.

Meanwhile, Knife kept a steady hand around Trophy's waist as they crossed toward his own car.

"Careful."

"I'm careful." Trophy stumbled over absolutely nothing. "...See?"

Knife snorted. "Yeah. I saw."

Somehow, they made it to the car without Trophy falling over. Knife unlocked it before walking around to the passenger side and opening the door for him.

"There you go."

Trophy gave him a sleepy smile. "What a gentleman."

Knife rolled his eyes. "Get in."

Trophy happily dropped into the passenger seat with a satisfied sigh, immediately sinking back against it. Knife waited until he was settled before closing the door and walking around to the driver's side. He climbed in, shut the door, and glanced over at his boyfriend.

Trophy was already smiling at him. "Youuu have to take your shirt off for meee~" he slurred playfully, leaning across the center console and tugging lightly at Knife's shirt.

Knife laughed. He slipped off the sleeveless vest first and tossed it into the back seat.

"And the other one~," Trophy insisted, reaching for the band shirt now.

"Desperate, huh?" Knife teased. "It's freezing outside... I dunno."

"I'll keep you warm~," Trophy hummed with a crooked smile.

Knife rolled his eyes. "...Alright then." He pulled the band shirt over his head and tossed it into the back beside the vest.

The moment he did, Trophy grinned triumphantly and climbed carefully over the center console until he was close enough to wrap his arms around Knife.

"There." He rested his hands against Knife's sides before leaning in to steal a gentle kiss. His breath carried the unmistakable scent of whiskey. Knife didn't seem to mind. He smiled into the kiss, slipping an arm around Trophy's waist and returning it just as warmly.

For the next few minutes, they sat there in the quiet of the parked car, trading lazy kisses and laughing between them while the cool night air outside contrasted with the warmth inside. Before long, the windows had begun to fog from the lingering heat.

Eventually, Knife chuckled softly. "...Troph." Another quick kiss. "C'mon."

He smiled against Trophy's forehead. "Let's get you home."

Trophy let out an exaggerated groan. "Mmmgh… Fiiine."

He reluctantly climbed back into the passenger seat, looking mildly offended that the moment had to end. Knife reached for his seatbelt. Before he could buckle it, something landed in his lap. Trophy had tossed his red varsity jacket at him.

"It's cold, stupid."

Knife blinked at it.

"...Wear a jacket."

Knife looked down at the familiar jacket, the very same one he'd refused to wear before the concert. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"...Yeah, alright." He slipped it on. It was still warm. It smelled faintly like Trophy. Comforting. He couldn't help laughing to himself.

"...This is so gay."

Trophy snorted. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Knife shook his head with a grin before pulling the seatbelt across his chest. He waited until Trophy had buckled up as well. "Ready?"

Trophy gave a sleepy nod. "Mhm."

Knife started the engine, pulled out of the parking space, and began the drive home.