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It was one of those nights where a single glass of whisky wasn’t enough.
Neuvillette wasn’t a drinker, always preaching to his college students to concentrate on their studies and deviate from partying all night on weekdays. Being a professor was a simple task for a well-structured and organized man. Teach, grade papers, and repeat.
But the new administration was making his infinite patience run away faster than anything before. His students were as stressed out as him and now he couldn’t preach sobriety without being a huge hypocrite.
After an especially suffocating meeting with the new principal, he blindly speed walked to the nearest hotel for a drink. Neuvillette couldn’t attend local bars without being spotted by his students, so expending a few bucks more for a peaceful evening was worth it.
Neuvillette wasn’t one to take risks, to live precariously, and to meet strangers. He sat in the bar with his second drink and silently stared at the ice melting. Neuvillette would kill for a tall glass of water after feeling his throat burn. Why would anyone enjoy such beverages?
So... he didn’t notice the man sitting by his side in an embarrassingly long minute, and almost flinched at the deep baritone of his voice.
“I’ll pay for the next one.” He said as soon as their eyes met and Neuvillette froze, not used to being stared at as intently by a stranger. Beautiful ice blue eyes and a smile. Neuvillette wished he could have an ounce of that smoothness. “Wriothesley, it’s a pleasure.”
“It’d be unwise… It’d be my third and it’s Monday.” Neuvillette sighed at his bad choices and checked the time in his wristwatch. It was still early, merely 5 o’clock. Such a disgrace...
Wriothesley seemed fascinated, studying the professor’s expression to look for rejection. He would get the message and dip out. He still needed a name to pair with that pretty face.
“Neuvillette.” He shook the stranger’s hand and Wriothesley brushed his thumb in one of Neuvillette"s fingers as he let go of the delicate hand. The professor felt goosebumps, not used to someone so bluntly flirting with him. As the excellent lawyer Neuvillette was, he couldn’t be fooled.
They were probably the same height but Wriothesley looked rugged and muscular, in contrast to his slim figure. He could easily crush Neuvillette, and the thought made his ears blush.
Wriothesley smiled as he caught Neuvillette staring at his biceps, which was incredibly inappropriate, but the man seemed to enjoy it.
“One more drink and I can happily escort you to your room if you are tipsy. We can’t risk a twisted ankle.” Ah, smooth, again. Neuvillette needed a second to process those words thanks to the liquor and shook his head at one of those ideas.
“I am not a guest here. I teach at the University nearby. It’s the only quiet bar in town.” He explained himself. Wriothesley was ready to take a chance but Neuvillette added. “One more drink is fine.”
And the man was quick with it, signaling the bartender to come to them so he could ask for a refill and a drink for himself.
Whisky, no ice.
“You are a guest, then. What brings you here?” Neuvillette wasn’t one to meddle in someone else’s business, but he was entertained by the sudden interaction and the liquor courage helped tremendously.
Wriothesley beamed at the question, it was his favorite one to answer.
“I play for a band and we decided to make this place the last stop on the tour since most of us are from Fontaine.” Neuvillette did try to think of what profession such a man could practice and it made complete sense that he wasn"t an office worker. Music was for the free spirits after all, dauntless and proud. He felt a certain satisfaction to know Wriothesley wasn’t a foreigner. Maybe they could meet again in town, somewhere, someday. “So, you are a professor, what’s your field?”
Neuvillette pouted internally. His career was beloved by him, but it didn’t spark much interest from others, getting called a chiseler or nerd most of the time. It didn’t bother him; he wasn’t trying to impress strangers.
But…
Neuvillette wished he’d choose to be an astronaut; that’d be far more entertaining to talk about.
“Law. I used to practice law at a firm but going around for trials and hearings was exhausting.” That would be the nail in the coffin. Wriothesley was a nomad, a musician… and Neuvillette couldn’t handle taking a cab to the nearest courthouse twice a week.
“Really? I always wanted to be a law enforcer, but shit happened… Anyway, that sounds amazing.” Does it, really? Neuvillette snorted, a new sound for Wriothesley collection. He needed to make him laugh again. “I am a law-obeying citizen, but if I ever get into trouble, I could use your number.”
Neuvillette trusted his gut and could say the night was going great. He wasn’t sure why, but Wriothesley was deeply interested in his work, asking him for any groundbreaking case Neuvillette participated in or why he decided to become a professor.
Neuvillette wanted to ask about his life as a musician. If Wriothesley toured the world, so it was likely he was very successful. But Neuvillette was being showered with compliments and interesting questions. He, for some reason, needed to entertain Wriothesley with his stories about dumb opposing lawyers and petty criminals talking nonsense in court.
His attention seemed genuine, even if it was naïve to believe that Wriothesley lacked practice in flirting and capturing someone"s interest. Neuvillette wasn"t shy, but incapable to approach a good looking stranger and ask them for their number.
“What type of music does your band play?” Neuvillette finally asked and for some reason, Wriothesley didn’t seem that excited to tell him about it.
“Rock, I play guitar.” He said, in a coy demeanor. Wriothesley didn’t strike Neuvillette as a rock listener and that could dip the pace of the lovely conversation, if they didn"t have that in common. Overthinking wasn’t his thing and he was incredibly proud oh his music. He read it all wrong, thank Gods. Neuvillette was just delightful.
Neuvillette was impressed, raising his eyebrows as he drank his fourth whisky of the evening. He enjoyed songs with a good beat and meaningful lyrics, he didn"t care for the music genre.
“I follow plenty of Fontanian rock bands. So much talent in our country.” He took his phone out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Wriothesley with the music app open. “If it isn’t inconvenient for you, could you show me one of your songs?”
Neuvillette never dared to do such reckless things, as to follow a stranger to his hotel room. He could be a serial killer, a good looking one.
Their excuse was to sober up a little before getting a cab— ‘what if they kidnap you while you aren’t in your right mind?’, and to listen to Wriothesley"s band.
But that man was a smooth talker, with innocent touches to his hands and lower back, small pats with lingering fingers while chatting in the bar for hours. It wasn’t Neuvillette’s first rodeo, but the last time he did something spontaneous like that was in college many years ago.
In the elevator, gentle hands grabbed Neuvillette by the waist and pulled him for a kiss after much anticipation and subtle signals while drinking downstairs; the eye contact and closeness were enough to set Wriothesley"s brain on fire.
It was chaste, testing the waters. Wriothesley wouldn’t dare to push his limits and thank Gods the touch was encouraged by Neuvillette’s arms hugging his wide shoulders and neck. Keep going.
Wriothesley wasn’t a player. Yes, he was a huge flirt but he needed stability after his messy upbringing. Neuvillette was mesmerizing since he got a glimpse of his silhouette. He did not plan to have a drink but couldn"t walk away.
Their kiss became passionate, needing to take seconds to breathe in between floors. Wriothesley was beyond delusional but could swear the elevator was gifting them extra time to enjoy the moment. Their fingers intertwined while walking to his room, without rush so he wouldn"t seem desperate for more of those lips and his sweet scent. Neuvillette was a sight to behold.
He needed to cool down. It wasn’t the right time to get carried away, they drank too much to truly consent, and even if Wriothesley would happily reciprocate to all and every thing that could happen between them, he needed to be a gentleman. Wriothesley refused to upset Neuvillette in any shape or form.
Neuvillette sat on the edge of the bed, equally as flustered but their thoughts were the same. He was an expert in exercising serenity, his patience was higher than Celestia.
“I wrote this song when I was living in the streets.” Wriothesley’s lips moved before he could think of what the hell he was saying, fearing that he"d spoil the mood with his miserable childooh. Neuvillette didn’t seem to be unsympathetic, so while the melody started playing with a slow riff, he continued with a small smile. He wanted Neuvillette to know him and it wasn"t something he hid from people... but why now, Wriothesley?, he scolded himself and decided to go all in. “It was between orphanages, then I found my people.” His bandmates had similar upbringings and the stars were compassionate to let them stick together. It was written all over the night sky.
Neuvillette was listening attentively to his story, enjoying the lyrics and the music. He swore to have listened to it on the radio and knowing the backstory made it even more impressive. The musicians were talented and one of them was staring at him, waiting for a review. He stood up to grab his phone and play it again, with a lower volume this time. In front of Wriothesley, resting both of his hands on his chest.
“Again?” Wriothesley whispered, and Neuvillette nodded. Again, everything again. “Are you sure?” Neuvillette kissed him as an answer, this time without the pleasantries of beginning with gentle pecks. He kissed him with need, eager to taste Wriothesley again with the sound of his music as a background.
Wriothesley made sure to record every bite, every time Neuvillette licked his bottom lip and asked for his tongue. His fingers brushed the long white hair until he grabbed him by the nape to kiss him deeper, for longer. They didn’t stop even when the song ended and because of that Wriothesley knew how many minutes passed since they started kissing without taking a single second apart from each other. Three minutes and fourteen seconds. It was addicting but tragically they needed to cool down.
After some short kisses and a tight hug, Neuvillette sighed and almost pouted against Wriothesley’s lips. He was a rational man. Even if his body screamed for mercy, for more than just a kiss goodbye, Neuvillette knew better. If they kept going, they wouldn’t stop. He wished he could keep going until dawn. Neuvillette"s body actively complained as soon as Wriothesley let go of his waist.
“I have papers to review… And the university installed new guidelines, I have to submit them before 9 PM. I am deeply sorry, I’d love to…” Wriothesley nodded at those words, knowing that it wasn’t an excuse. He could see it in Neuvillette’s eyes, lilac and bright. Wriothesley needed to take his chance now or never. A hail mary to make sure they"d meet again.
“Are you free Saturday night?” Wriothesley had an important appointment that day: it was the last concert of the year. They were still an indie band but the success came out of the blue with such intensity that they were sold out.
Neuvillette looked at him, curious. Was he asking him on a date? Wasn’t it just a one-time experience?
“I’d get you VIP tickets, so the crowd doesn’t squeeze you to death. Please, come to see me.” It almost sounded like a beg. It wasn’t a date, but something much better.
“I’d love to. Will you call me, then?”
Saturday was frenetic from start to finish. The entire band was freaking the hell out. They performed several times that year but it was their hometown, their friends and family were going to attend.
They used to play at bars and small gigs before boxing matchups, filling the streetlamps of Fontaine with pamphlets to attract an audience. In the end, they just needed one single stupid video to make them go viral, mostly because of their looks and thirsty fans. Their beloved fans.
They weren’t complaining at all. It was their chance, the way out of the streets, out of begging and debt.
Wriothesley was anxious for different reasons, and he wasn’t in the mood to proclaim that he fell hard for a professor five days ago. The texting was sweet and innocent at first and it slowly escalated when Neuvillette looked up those famous videos that made them viral. That was when the teasing started.
Videos of Wriothesley playing guitar, sweaty and ecstatic… painfully handsome. He wasn’t shy to show off those big muscles Neuvillette felt that night at the hotel. He was dying to be embraced again, crushed even. He understood what their audience felt about them and felt almost childish knowing he met that guitarist… He tasted those lips and those strong hands held his body. Neuvillette was a lucky one.
A specific edit of Wriothesley looking extraordinarily handsome paired with music from another famous band made him feel all types of silly, like a teenager drooling over his first crush. He watched it over and over again, singing along.
Hold your hair in deep devotion…
Neuvillette was falling slowly but surely. The inappropriate text messages and selfies sent by Wriothesley at the gym didn"t help the growing affection. Such a marvelous and fascinating man. They were polar opposites, like the wind and sea, and they loved it. Neuvillette woke up every day with good morning messages and fell asleep with his music. Neuvillette wanted to be his, even if it was just for one night. He didn"t want to push his luck.
He replied to one of Wriothesley’s shameless texts for the first time instead of changing the topic. Neuvillette felt juvenile and naïve. He didn’t mind it at that point, proper etiquette didn’t matter anymore.
Maybe I want to be yours since you asked so nicely.
And soon after, he received the QR for the concert Saturday night.
And Neuvillette thanked the VIP ticket as soon as he saw the crowd. A long line of young people dressed in all black, happy even if the sun was burning hot that afternoon. They were going to melt.
He decided to run to the nearest cafeteria since he didn"t have to wait in line. Everything would be fixed by a big glass of ice water to cool down. Neuvillette didn’t want to freak out, he wasn’t a young kid but it was his first rock concert. And it’d mean so much more than just the performance to him.
With a black turtleneck and his hair in a low ponytail, he sneaked into the VIP entry—and felt like he cheated the system since he didn’t even pay for it or wait outside for who knows how many hours— praying that there weren’t any of his students there. Neuvillette was too flustered to interact with human beings at that point.
The opening act was a lady he heard so many times before on the radio. She sang about dark romances and a life surrounded by luxury and crime. It was so foreign to his own experiences but it resonated deep in his heart. To be loved, to be torn into pieces, and not be sorry about it.
Neuvillette wouldn’t mind living a little more recklessly, just for one night, even if he wished for more.
The crowd went crazy for her and a few minutes later, the silence was too loud he could hear his own heart banging against his ribs.
The riff was incredible, the intro to one of the songs he memorized and enjoyed during an especially long week at the university. He was mesmerized by the lights and energy eruption from the crowd. He zoned out the screams to stare at the guitarist. And Wriothesley looked for him.
Neuvillette was so close to the stage, in a small area with no more than twenty people. He could stand still there and stare at him forever. Neuvillette forced himself to pay attention to the band, to exceptionally talented musicians giving it all. It felt electric and the energy never dipped down.
Except for one song, an acoustic take that required Wriothesley to change guitar and stand in front of a mic to perform harmonies and back vocals. His voice was so deep and intimate, that it was driving Neuvillette insane. And the glimpse of eye contact… it was criminal, not allowed at all. His heart was performing a drum solo every time their eyes met.
Wriothesley was giving his all. There were old friends in the crowd, he was performing in his nation and for Neuvillette. He knew he couldn’t just stare at the tall and handsome man in the front row, but he wanted to make sure Neuvillette was enjoying himself.
The crowd was wild, his friend—the vocalist—even had to ask them to take a big breath and make sure no one was being crushed or pushed against the barriers separating the sections of the audience.
It was the adrenaline rush of feeling surrounded by love, by people who went to see them and celebrate music with them. He was a lucky one.
The interlude took place after one hour—six songs, the drummer and bassist’s shenanigans, and just talking to the audience. The vocalist loved to take time to read all the signs, even the incredibly horny ones, and joke around. Neuvillette understood the reason of why they were so loved by the fans. They cared.
The crowd cried out loud when they stepped out of the scenario. They needed a break—Wriothesley drank a cup of tea, which renewed his energy even if his friends mocked him to death for that— and changed shirts. It was a hot and hyped evening. It was the last concert, so they needed to make a party out of it.
“Aren’t you going to show off this time, Wrio?” The bassist smirked. Wriothesley had been doing it the whole tour, just playing riffs and talking to the audience to let the vocalist rest a bit longer. Neuvillette was on his mind all night, and that was why he froze at the thought of being the only one in the spotlight. And that’s just ridiculous.
Maybe he’d play a cover for the first time—and last—in the whole tour.
He confirmed his idea with the band and the drummer was on board, deciding to help with the beat and back vocals. It was a slow song, even if he wasn’t trained as a vocalist, the band had played it many times in small gigs years ago. They knew it better than the back of their hands.
“Can we get sued or something? I don’t want to go to jail again…” The singer laughed out loud, joking. But they made sure with the manager that it wouldn’t be a problem. “Go ahead, I need a break for real. I’ve been shouting too much today.”
“We noticed… And I have a lawyer, don’t worry.” Wriothesley smiled. They had only three minutes left, so they listened to the song to refresh the beat. The memories of their past shows, the small crowds, and the many covers they performed before they could produce their music filled them with nostalgia.
It was a love song and one of his favorites. So why not? There wasn"t any deeper reason. Of course not.
Clorinde looked at Wriothesley with suspicion all over her face and raised her eyebrows. She was a friend, an honorary band member that night. As a trained law enforcer, she made sure the night went smoothly since the public was not only Fontanians but people from all over the world to enjoy the last concert.
She knew about Wriothesley"s special guest since he asked her—and bribed her with copious amounts of boxes of Liyue tea he purchased for himself— to make sure Neuvillette was escorted safely and not make it so obvious she was standing near him all concert long.
The manager clapped her hands to ask for attention since it was showtime once again. They promised a two-hour concert, so they took a longer break while the crowd was entertained by karaoke.
Only Wriothesley and the drummer came back and the guitarist stood in the middle of it, fixing the microphone stand. The crowd didn’t notice, since the stage was still dark. They got a glimpse of the attendants singing along to an iconic rock song which ended abruptly and the lights came back. The crowd went silent.
“I feel like I’m interrupting something. Could have sworn I"d just heard your beautiful voices…” They were astonished by Wriothesley’s voice and the absence of the rest of the band. Neuvillette was shocked. The concert was amazing enough for him, but this felt intimate. The drummer said something but he couldn’t pay attention to anyone except Wriothesley taking the spotlight.
He yearned to meet his eyes. Neuvillette felt mortified by just thinking about it. When did he become so needy?
“There were so many things out of our reach growing up, so seeing you all tonight has been the definition of victory for us, here in our hometown. Thank you.” Their manager encouraged them to chat with the audience, even if they were the less talkative of the members, it was a night that neither of them could never forget. “Uh oh, looks like I"ll owe you a favor now, something special.”
And Wriothesley wanted to give them a good show, they deserved it. The audience was still mostly quiet, entranced by the two men in front of them and the big screens.
“We started playing covers in empty bars, and since it’s a special night with so many of you...” Wriothesley started playing the first notes of the song and the drummer joined with the simple beat, just to accompany the guitar and their voices. A big part of the crowd recognized the song immediately, singing along. It was really something special, the audience waving the flashlights of their phones for the two band members on stage.
The day after you stole my heart everything I touched told me it would be better shared with you.
And their eyes met. Neuvillette couldn’t sing along, even if he knew the song by heart.
The concert ended on a high note with all the band bowing to the crowd and dozens of plushies flying to the stage. The musicians threw guitar and bass picks, as many rock bands did at the end of the shows. Neuvillette was lost for words, just standing starstruck in place. The crowd slowly emptied the venue and he felt like it was time to leave as well, since the staff started tidying things up.
Clorinde ran to him before he could leave and spooked him out of his trance.
“Fuck, I am sorry.” She laughed, catching her breath. She was tired after a long day of work. “You can follow me if you want… Are you okay?”
Neuvillette was exhausted after two hours of standing and practically enchanted by the guitarist. He nodded, walking behind her to Gods know where, assuming it was Wriothesley"s doing. Clorinde asked him to wait in a room with a comfy sofa and many cold water bottles in the fridge. Neuvillette didn’t realize he was backstage until he spotted Wriothesley"s red guitar on a stand, with many stickers as decoration.
He was sipping water and resting his eyes—not napping!— for fifteen minutes when the door opened and Wriothesley walked towards him. Neuvillette couldn’t wait the three seconds it’d take him to reach the couch, so he stood up and met him halfway.
Wriothesley was fresh out of the shower, hair still wet. Neuvillette’s fingers caught water drops running down his neck and brushed the black locks and gray streaks out of his face.
“Did you enjoy th—” Neuvillette interrupted him to kiss his cheek, hugging his neck tight. He wouldn’t normally display public affection, but he couldn’t wait anymore. Wriothesley hugged his slim waist so firmly it hurt and kissed him hard. Neuvillette felt his legs weak after standing up for so long, giving up little by little. Wriothesley took it as an invitation to hold him in his arms, letting the professor wrap his arms and legs around him. He grabbed him by the thighs so Neuvillette didn’t fall and sat down on the sofa to hold him properly.
The kiss felt like heaven. Wriothesley was tired as hell but Neuvillette straddling his lap was comforting and thrilling. The concert adrenaline didn’t measure to the avid lips and his tongue twirling with Neuvillette’s. The professor gave him an inch and Wriothesley took a mile without a hint of shame, touching his soft skin under the black sweater and marking his fingertips all over his waist. He"d give anything to take it off, to kiss Neuvillette"s whole body if he allowed it.
Their bodies rubbed together just right, embracing each other like the world could end if they let go. It was the perfect way to thank Wriothesley for the tickets and an ever better way to say hello. “Nobody is coming, I locked the door.” Wriothesley assured him, but Neuvillette still had his reservations. He was kept in place by strong hands that he couldn’t refuse. “Did you enjoy the concert, then?” A smug smile, as he repeated the question he meant to say earlier.
Neuvillette still was struggling to speak. He was confident and eloquent, capable of arguing the hardest debates in front of a judge and giving lectures to students for hours. He took a sip of his bottled water and sighed softly.
“I cannot help but feel that you bringing me here is some sort of an assassination attempt...” He finally said, hot all over like Neuvillette was standing beneath the desert’s sun. Neuvillette didn’t expect to be taken backstage like some kind of groupie. His ears blushed at the thought, still unwell and bothered by the intense make-out session—in a good way— and the inappropriateness of the situation on the couch. “You are murdering my levelheadedness.”
Wriothesley smiled at the fancy choice of words. He noticed Neuvillette’s uncertainty and just assumed the reason.
“I meant everything I said in those messages.” Neuvillette stared at his eyes, quiet to let him speak freely. “I’d love to see you again, this isn’t just a fling for me.” Wriothesley vowed. They were too old to play tricks and the chemistry was so good to let it go. They both knew it. “Maybe promising it via texting isn’t your cup of tea, do you want to hear it again?”
Neuvillette laughed, relaxed by the clarity, and let his fingertips go through Wriothesley"s hair.
“Which messages are you referring to exactly?” Neuvillette raised his eyebrows, teasing him at the best of his capabilities. He had never met someone quite like Wriothesley. He spent all his life surrounded by introverted scholars. He opted to spend his time in a quiet environment, exercising a career that followed strict rules. They were so different in that way but still driven by each other. Neuvillette encountered new highs in those five days since meeting Wriothesley. It felt right, easy as good things should be.
They met on a high note after all, it"s only correct to keep up.
But!
Not all the messages they shared were PG-13. The guitarist— who held him by the hips and pushed their bodies together as he pleased— found it impossible to keep it civil. Neuvillette needed him to hear it out loud like Wriothesley meant it.
“The ones about taking you on a date, yeah.” Wriothesley pretended to be innocent of crimes against his sanity. Neuvillette huffed accusatory, containing a smile to get the truth. “Ah! The ones about kissing every inch of your body, those?”
Neuvillette nodded once, with the same face he wore when the people he defended in court confessed to their wrongdoings while feeling safe by the client confidentiality agreement.
He was still teasing—He wasn"t good at flirting, but he thoroughly enjoyed how Wriothesley seemed almost shy under Neuvillette"s intense stare.— Neuvillette had an amazing poker face, waiting for more statements of guilt. It was unfair to be home alone while reading the scandalous texts Wriothesley sent to taunt him. He was truly something else.
“It isn’t fair, I was drunk that Friday night… it’s kinda a ritual before concerts.” Ha! Admission of guilt, little by little. Neuvillette loved every second of it. “I thought about you the entire evening, to meet you again and fuc—"
“You said you wanted me to be yours.” Neuvillette whispered before Wriothesley could finish yet another improper sentence. His fingers were exploring the firm pecs and biceps, pushing them slightly to amuse himself. Wriothesley was too hot and handsome for him to handle, more so after watching him perform all evening.
Wriothesley looked at him with a warm smile, touching Neuvillette’s face with all the care of the world.
“I wish for nothing more.” Wriothesley kissed him once, hugging his waist with strong arms to make sure the words were properly being heard. “Monday and today counted as a dates, so the third one tomorrow…?”
Neuvillette laughed out loud at the audacity of that man and couldn’t help himself. It was clear what Wriothesley was implying and Neuvillette couldn"t refuse him. He could barely bring himself to leave the room.
“It’s settled then.” Neuvillette seriously needed to rest after that evening. He was a mess and Wriothesley kept looking at him like there wasn’t anything else in the world worthy of his time. It was dangerous territory. “You were pretty cool today, truly.” Neuvillette kissed him goodbye and was escorted to the door still being hugged. The artist couldn’t accompany outside to get a cab, since there were surely still fans waiting by the exit to catch a glimpse of the band.
“Not as cool as you, Neuvillette.” Wriothesley kissed him again, pushing him softly against the door frame as he placed a guitar pick in Neuvillette"s hand. He was looking like a lost gray puppy as they parted ways, droopy ears included. A lovely sight. “See you tomorrow, then.”