Work Text:
He was on top again, and it felt so good. New single, new album coming out soon, yeah he had it all.
Well, almost it all. There was one thing missing, but he would never, in a million years, have it. At least, he didn't think he would.
He finished off his cigarette and walked into his studio, listening to the playback of the song he was working on. A song no one was ever going to hear but him. Him and maybe one other person, but that depended on a lot of factors.
A few minutes of listening and he turned it off and reached for another cigarette. He thought about it. All of it.
And it made him feel like such a fucking hypocrite. All his lyrics, his freestyles, all of it calling out and denouncing the very thing he's now realizing he himself is. But maybe that was the point. He was fighting with his own inner demons (which, he knew, was not something he wasn’t used to. The demons he’s used to dealing were just... not this.)
Which is why he's been cryptic lately. His raps? A subtle confession of love to the one person who has had his back since the late 90's, the one person who never abandoned him, the one person who he has never had a beef with, never dissed on a track (and never has to). Though, it's always been like that. Every track they've done together has been subtle confessions of love to each other, a secret code only the two of them shared.
He pushed himself out of the chair and headed for the window. He wasn’t going to let it get to him, he was just going to push it aside and let it sit in the back of his head like he always does. It’s his coping tactic.
Fuck, why did it have to hurt so much? Why did it have to eat at his very soul until he couldn’t take it anymore? He punched the window and walked up the stairs out of the studio to the sound of his front door being pounded on. He went to open it and he felt like his heart had fallen into his stomach and was pounding on the sides. "Dre. What’s up bro?"
Dre walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. "Same ol, same ol. The headphone company is doing fantastic, fucking fantastic. How about you? Heard you’re finishing making cuts for the new album. When’s it dropping?"
"Sometime in the next month or two. I was actually working on some beats right now," he led them into the living room. "You want a smoke or drink? I got damn near everything."
He shook his head, "Nah bro, it's cool. I just... I've been thinking about a lot and I just needed to come talk to you." He shifted his feet. Em had never seen him like this before. He was nervous, unsure of what he was going to say. This had to be something serious.
Em cocked his head to the side. "Is... is everything okay man? I've never seen you like this, and I'm kinda worried, I gotta admit." He swallowed a bit and sat down on the couch. His head was spinning. He had spent nights dreaming of this, of Dre coming over, saying he needed to talk, and ending with them well spent and well fucked, probably on his living room floor. But they were always just that, dreams. And he knew he wasn't dreaming right now. So what could this be, now that it was real? Surely not what he wanted, that would be too much to ask. He looked up and was pulled from his thoughts from Dre's face. He wasn't going to say it, so Em was going to at least at least get his confession out in the open. "Well, if you're not going to say anything, I have something to say to you while you here. A confession of sorts, if you wish. I guess I've been thinking about you a lot lately, and fuck I gotta admit that I'm maybe sort of in love with you. I mean fuck, the song I have out now is about you. For you. It's my declaration of love for you." He hadn't realized how long winded and rambling he had gotten until he finished and he sighed. "I'm sorry, but I guess I just had to let it all out."
Dre waited for a minute, letting everything Em had just said to him process in his head, before he sat on the couch beside him and pulled him into a quick hug that would have lingered for too long if it hadn't been for what had just happened a few minutes ago. "Don't be sorry, man. Never be sorry. Especially since I was coming here to tell you the same thing, technically. That I'm in love with you. I never imagined I'd fall in love with you, of all people. Not anything against you, but..." he trailed off.
Em picked up where Dre left off. "I get it bro, I get it. We sit there, throwing 'faggot' and 'queer' around like their nothing, and now here we are, each in love with another man. It's a lot to take in."
He nodded. "It is."
They sat in silence for a while, taking in the fact each is in love with the other. It was Em to broke the silence. "So, what do you want to do about it?"
Dre chuckled, "So forward about it, one of the many things I love about you. I guess we just take it one day at a time. See how it works."
Em shifted in his seat. He knew if this was a movie, they'd probably be making out right now, but he didn't know if he was ready for that yet. "Yeah, sounds good. See if we have as awesome a flow outside of the studio as we do in it?"
"C'mon Em, you know we already have that shit. I guess this is the same as us going in for a duet. We already work well together one way, will it work just as well another?"
"Sounds good, sounds good," and he then punched Dre in the shoulder playfully, about all the affection he was giving out right now.