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"Ouch—" Keiten groans, his forehead hitting the desk straight on. He dozed off once again, having been in the studio for hours, now well past midnight.
“Go home, Iten. I can take care of this,” Riaan mumbles, eyes fixated to the screen, switching from one tab to another, then another.
Jutting out his lower lip, Keiten readies a retort, but Riaan’s side-eye alone easily stops him. He sheepishly looks away, rubbing at the forming bruise, as if the pressure might undo it.
Dane chuckles. Sitting on the couch at the back of the studio, he strums at a guitar, the sound soft and absent-minded. “Yeah, we should be good for tonight, honestly. I think we could all head home?”
“I’ll stay a bit longer. Both of you go sleep,” Riaan says, words bleary, his focus unwavering from the task in front of him.
Sighing, Dane gets up and walks towards the producing zombie. “I can’t force you to leave, that’s for sure, so I’ll stay too. Keiten, you okay to head out yourself?”
Dane pats the sleepy boy's head, who leans into it but whines in a fuss, “I’m not a baby! Of course I can go myself!” The inevitable yawn and squint in his eyes—only making him more adorable—contrasts greatly with his words.
“Buddy became twenty-one and all of sudden is too grown up,” Dane laughs.
Keiten huffs, dragging himself to his feet, some sort of parenting side surfacing when he speaks next, “Now, now! Don’t be up too late, you two.”
“Go sleep, you baby,” Riaan laughs tiredly, the sound short-lived.
As soon as Keiten leaves, Dane drops into his chair, pushing closer towards the vocalist. “You’re scary.”
“Me? In what way?” Riaan lifts a brow, tone calm but frigid.
“I swear you get too serious when you’re tired. You need to take care of yourself better though,” Dane says, resting an elbow on the table as he watches the screen with mere attention, “God, did you even drink water today?”
“Mmm, can’t remember…”
With a loud sigh, Dane stands, “I’ll get us a drink.”
The lack of response suspends in the air, but Dane walks out nonetheless.
Riaan inhales a soft breath. The quiet of the room caves in around him. He knows Dane would stay with him. He knows Dane would take care of him. He always does.
—
Even with the door opening and closing, Dane sitting down, unscrewing the bottle, and placing it front of him, Riaan’s eyes never leave the screen.
“God, you’re a fucking zombie, really,” Dane mutters.
Ignoring the slight, Riaan whispers a thanks before taking the drink. A few seconds pass. Then Dane, unable to help himself, brings up his recent media literacy.
“Oh—I was just scrolling on Reddit. Do you remember that whole best friend banter we had during the show?” Dane lets out a low chuckle. “It’s the top post right now but fuck—it was funny watching those clips back. I forgot how desperate we were back then. And how different our friendship is now.”
A hum in response. Although his eyes are glued to his monitor, Riaan listens.
“God, the best friend banter thing’s so stupid—well, not stupid. Just…funny,” Dane rambles, wrapping his arms around Riaan’s shoulder as he keeps talking.
Dane goes on to describe the clips.
They’re from the group’s survival show, more than two years ago now. The band has already debuted. With a packed schedule, the show has now become a long, distant memory.
It’s a compilation of their so-called best friend moments. One clip shows Dane rejecting Riaan’s team outright, the shock on Riaan’s face exaggerated and comedic in hindsight. Another shows how they finally joined the same team again, only to be torn apart again by the rules. Something about friendship. Something about irony.
Dane talks about how he can’t believe it. How he barely even remembers being against Riaan in so many rounds, only to end up debuting alongside him in the end. Again, something—some friendship. He keeps circling back to it, to them being best buddies, back then and now.
Perhaps it was some way to keep Riaan grounded, or at least less zombie-like. Maybe lightening up the atmosphere is what he’s trying to do? Or just distracting Riaan? Some comfort? Riaan isn't sure. Either way, Riaan doesn’t understand him; the only word really reaching his ears being friends.
Riaan sighs, loud and pointed. His finger repeatedly clicking his mouse at random tabs, irritation bleeding into the motion. He’s not replying anymore at this point. Even the hums falling silent. Dane keeps going anyways, lost in his own thread of thought.
Riaan blinks his eyes tight.
“God, stop saying that,” Riaan mutters, tongue pressing against the back of his teeth, jaw tight.
“What? You don’t like being my friend?” Dane chuckles, the joke light, careless.
“No. I don’t, actually.”
Riaan stares far into the screen, all focus on any task long gone. He can’t ignore the slow loosening of arms around his shoulders. If only he could hear it: the dull thud of Dane’s heart dropping straight to the floor.
An uncomfortable silence.
Riaan clicks out of the browser tabs, the brighter background glaring against his pupils. He turns his head towards the now very silent Dane. “What? Do you like being friends with me?” he sneers, the edge in his voice sharpened by exhaustion more than intent.
Dane leans further back, confusion turning into shock, his expression cracking in plain view. His head tilts, as if hoping that he’s misheard it all.
A beat.
Dane blinks at him.
Riaan looks away, eyes wide. “Sorry—fuck. I—I don’t know what I’m saying,” he says, startled. He’s thinking back to his own words. Hands shaking. He can't take it back. He’s already dug too deep, the shovel heavy in his grip. It's too early.
“What…what are you trying to say?” The hurt is unmistakable in Dane’s eyes, his jaw clenched as he stares, waiting. His voice comes out strained—angry? Sad? Riaan can’t tell.
Dane’s emotions are never shy. Rarely subtle. They’re always written plainly across his face, easy to read, especially for Riaan, his best friend. But right now, nothing’s clear. Shock dulls Dane’s expressions while frustration tightens them, hurt leaking through the gaps. Riaan can’t pin any one feeling down, and the uncertainty scares him more than anger ever could. He’s faltering at any conclusion. At any explanation.
Dane’s patience thins, his nails pressing into his palm. That much, Riaan can tell. His stomach churns, nausea rising fast, burning at the back of his throat.
“Sorry. Just—give me a moment. Don’t listen to what I just said. That was just…tired me speaking—”
“What the fuck do you mean tired you?” Dane mutters, disbelief surging in as he struggles to keep up, seemingly processing everything too fast and not fast enough all at once.
Riaan exhales painfully. Thinking. Thinking so hard, he feels a violent pressure sting through his temples. He pinches his forehead—until Dane takes a hold of his wrist, pulling him to face him.
“Riaan?” Dane says, unsteady, “do you seriously not think of me as a friend—“
“Fuck—that is not what I said.”
“That’s literally exactly what you just said. Do not twist your words right now—”
“No. You don’t twist my words. And let go of me,” Riaan snaps, his eye twitching.
“Then fucking explain yourself.”
I can fix this, Riaan tells himself. Dane isn't angry, Riaan swears. Yet a hot tear slipping down Dane's face, the clear bite at his inner cheeks to prevent raising his voice, the grip around Riaan's wrist not tightening, but not unmoving. Riaan feels each quiver of Dane’s fingers traveling up his arm.
Frustration. Hurt. He made it clear. Yet it only intensifies Riaan's inability to think.
“I just—give me a second—” Riaan winces. The crack in his voice betrays him.
They both falter at once, each catching the other’s distress. Dane’s grip loosens. Riaan looks away, his stare gone cold and overwhelmed.
Heavy seconds weigh upon them, neither of them making a sound.
“Do you—no…fuck…” Dane mutters into the back of his hand, harshly rubbing at his face, “I don’t get it…”
“Fuck. Just…this isn’t…” Riaan buries his face in his palms, needing to hide himself from the shame. He doesn’t know how to continue. He feels his heart crawling up his throat, banging to be let out.
“What? Isn’t what? What do I not know here?” Danes presses, hands back at his lap, fists gripping at his jeans, knuckles whitening.
The silence stretches, and Riaan’s thoughts spiral, taking over, panic flaring in uneven swings.
Say it. It's a misunderstanding. But it isn’t. It's not wrong. Riaan can't make a choice.
“I didn’t want to say it like this,” Riaan mutters, “not like that. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” His eyes dart across Dane’s face, his hand twitching with the urge to wipe away the tears, but he freezes. Doubt stops him. He doesn’t know what Dane would do if he touched him now. Not right now.
Dane scoffs, but it's raw, “This isn’t how you—what? Get to the fucking point.”
“Oh my lord, shut up, wait.” Riaan says, voice shaking, hands restless, mind scrambling for an escape he knows doesn’t exist. He isn't ready.
“Well—then fucking explain faster,” Dane snaps. “You’re making me anxious...”
Riaan swallows.
He can’t make a choice.
So he lets Dane make it for him.
With a sharp inhale, he declares, “I like you, you idiot.”
A pause.
A very, very long pause.
Dane's grip on his jeans loosens. The tension drains from his hands, replaced by a faint tremor as warm blood rushes back into his pale knuckles.
“Fuck,” Riaan yells, pressing his palms hard into his face, like he can physically shove himself back out of reality. “Just—listen. Please. Let me think.”
Dane’s mouth opens—then closes. He swallows and nods, finally, a patience bestowing him.
Riaan drops his hands, staring at his lap, head pounding, feeling uneasy. “It’s not that I don’t like you as a friend,” he starts, voice uneven, “I just…like you more. More than a friend.
“God, this is such a shit way to confess. I didn’t think this through at all. I never wanted to tell you like this, actually, I didn’t even know I’d ever tell you, and now I’m just—rambling—because if I stop you’ll interrupt me and I’ll lose it.”
He drags a hand through his hair, “This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, not like I even planned it out anyways…” he mutters, biting his lip. Still, he keeps going.
“I do like you as a friend, obviously. I don’t mean that part. I just—want more, and that’s not going to happen, and I guess I got frustrated and said something stupid and—why—why are you smiling all creepy like that?”
“Oh—shit—sorry—didn't realize…” Dane turns away, pressing a knuckle to his lips as he stifles the smile.
“Huh? What?” Riaan questions, genuine confusion flashing across his face. “What was that?”
Dane stays quiet, shoulders tense as he composes himself. But he fails. The grin breaks through anyway: wide, giddy, and simply impossible to hide.
Riaan’s stomach sinks. “Why…do you look happy.”
“Oh—same,” Dane reveals, finally. “Same, same. Me too. I—yeah. I like you too.”
“What.”
Dane blinks, head tilting, smile growing, eyes gleaming, looking absurly pleased. It's as if he was a puppy, seeing its owner at the door. Riaan swears he can see a tail wagging back and forth.
“You—you like me?” Riaan asks slowly, pointing at Dane, then himself, needing to physically draw it out.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Dane ridicules, laughing under his breath. He holds onto Riaan’s armrest this time, spinning his chair to face him fully, the sudden whiplash making Riaan wince. “You’re the idiot here. You really think I don’t like you too?”
Blinking multiple times, Riaan tilts his head, utterly baffled.
“Idiot,” Dane repeats fondly, the word soft now.
“You like me?” Riaan says again, disbelief outweighing everything else. There’s a pounding in his head. Or his chest? He can’t tell.
Dane noises his amusement, “Do you want it in writing? A plane with a banner?” He wipes at the last trace of tears, his grin fully settled in place. “Yes. I like you. How much clearer do you want me to be?”
Dane’s shock is already ousted by a beaming happiness he just can't suppress. He hasn't even processed the whole situation yet. Just the fact that Riaan likes him back loops in his head like a broken record.
“Are you sure?”
“…yes?”
A solid second skips in. Another skips out.
“You sound unsure.”
“I’m sure! I swear.” Dane gasps, insisting.
Riaan’s brows knit, confusion tightening his expression as his eyes search Dane’s face, trying to read whether this is a joke, some sort of deflection, or a way to water down the situation. Shock and exhaustion bubble together in a cauldron to form his next words, but Riaan can’t control the stirring of this concoction.
“Okay. Then…kiss me.”
“The fuck—“
“Kiss me. If you mean it.”
“Kiss you?” Dane sputters, “Right now? Here?”
“You said you like me. Then kiss me. Prove it.”
“Isn’t this a little fast,” Dane flails his hands about, brain struggling to catch up.
“No.” Adamant, Riaan holds an unrelenting gaze, emotion overriding reason completely. “Kiss me…if you like me.”
“That—“
“Do you not want to?” Riaan presses, quieter now, but still intense.
“Of course I want to—“ Dane slaps a hand over his mouth, averting his gaze quick as heat rushes to his face.
Riaan exhales sharply, shakily squeezing a fist. “Then…don’t talk yourself out of it.”
“Fuck—okay. Okay.” Nerves fizzle through Dane, “I will—I will kiss you.”
Dane gets up with a rushed immediacy, as if he was on a time limit. He grips onto the armrests of Riaan’s chair. Encloses him. Heart hammering against his chest. Dane leans in.
A millimeter to spare. He stops there, suspended, eyes locked, pupils trembling as neither quite dares to look down at the other’s lips.
“Can I?”
“Idiot,” Riaan murmurs, “What do you think I’ve been asking for this whole time.”
“Sorry”—a smirk enlightens Dane’s face before he glances lower—“just wanted to make sure.”
Dane leans in, closing his eyes.
Their lips meet.
Feeling apprehensive, Riaan can’t help but freeze, eyes squeezing shut as he feels through the awkward angle. As if it was his first ever kiss. As if he didn't see it coming. It's uncoordinated and overwhelming. His emotions gush too fast, leaving him trembling, taking his motor skills out.
Dane pulls back when he notices the lack of response, eyes snapping open.
“Is this okay?”
“Fuck—” Riaan bites his lip, anticipation flaring, eyes widening as he feels warmth burrowing at his bones, “Yeah. yeah it is.”
Riaan cups Dane’s face, pulls him back in, presses into a soft, deeper kiss. Their first, awkward kiss is all it takes. The lingering prickle in his chest fades, his worries and shyness disarming. He melts into it, wanting to dissolve into the contact.
And they keep kissing.
Their mouths fall into a slow rhythm. Gentle, unhurried movements that speak louder than urgency ever could. Every touch carrying the weight of how long they’ve yearned for this, the kiss deepening. It's steady and so much more sure.
Dane feels Riaan’s fingers tremble against his jaw.
“I got you, angel,” Dane whispers upon his lips.
Riaan’s body softens at the sudden reassurance. He doesn't know if he needs it, but he can’t deny how it pleases him. He isn’t scared. He’s in awe. The nickname isn't new either, something that Dane would throw around in humor. But hearing it now, here, wrapped in this delicate tenderness? The situation feels unreal. Riaan feels unreal.
The studio lights are dim, glowing lowly upon them, catching on sweat and saliva in dull whites, casting deep shadows. Riaan feels everything. He sits on a high, all traces of exhaustion gone.
With a gradually rising courage, Riaan slides a hand to the back of Dane’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair, thumb absently brushing the stud on his lobe. Their noses graze as they tilt their heads. Each motion at a leisure pace.
Dane's arms twitch from some sort of giddiness. He wants to move quicker. But he reins himself in, matching Riaan’s speed. Riaan smiles into the kiss as he notices.
Warmth ripples through Riaan’s body when he lifts his chin higher, lips securing in a tighter lock, sliding easily upon each other's, feeling settled.
The air grows thick. Riaan’s chest feels warm, but stuffy, breaths slipping as he forgets how to simply inhale. They part only long enough to draw in a slow, shaky breath, foreheads nearly touching, eyes still heavy-lidded.
They don’t rush back in.
With strange patience, Riaan turns his head and leans back into Dane’s hold, letting the next kiss come naturally.
He's in a daze. He adores the almost-magical feeling of it. Each deliberate movement buzzing softly through his veins. His body falls limp, trusting, lips holding on tight, the motion so slow it’s barely noticeable. Still, sparks hum beneath his skin, leaving him warm and fuzzy all over.
It’s less about the act itself and more about the fact that it’s happening at all. Dane’s lips on his. Nothing else exists. The world narrows until there’s only them. The intoxicating closeness makes Riaan feel lightheaded. Blissfully overwhelmed. Completely lost in it.
Dane eventually pulls back, eyes tracing Riaan’s face; his half-lidded gaze, flushed cheeks, sweat-dampened bangs; lit in dim blues from the screens—a stark contrast to his reddened, saliva slick lips.
Riaan feels tipsy on the taste alone.
In fact, he doesn't mind getting drunk.
Dane breaks their relentless gaze only to kiss him again. This time, deeper. Thought dissolves quickly, the kiss turning just a little messy, but still careful, still taking each other in for the first time.
The studio is quiet. Too quiet. The building itself seems to hold its breath, leaving only the sound of them. Unsteady exhales, chests rising and falling as they struggle to breathe normally.
Dane’s hand comes up to caress Riaan’s cheek. When he tries to pull it back to the armrest, it misses, dropping straight onto Riaan’s thigh instead. His weight shifts with it, accidentally pressing in on his hold.
Riaan inhales sharply as the grip tightens, warmth curling deep.
He pulls back just enough to breathe, hands still braced at Dane’s jaw, bothered by their inconvenient positions. Dane follows his lips instinctively, a soft sound of protest at their loss of contact.
“Uncomfortable?” Riaan asks, brow lifting with concern, even as his leg betrays him with a faint quiver.
“No, it’s fine—“
“Sofa?”
Surprised but clearly pleased, Dane grins, immediately curling an arm around Riaan’s waist, pulling him up as he stands. Eager, he captures Riaan's lips again without delay, hold tightening.
Riaan laughs into the kiss, giddy, “Calm down, sweetheart, I’m not running.”
Their gazes match. A soft presence in Riaan’s eyes, briefly settles a warmth in Dane’s chest, but it quickly turns hotter.
Dane hums, “Sorry. I’m impatient right now,” the vibration carrying straight into Riaan’s mouth as he crashes their lips back together, knocking air far out his lungs.
Dane pushes them towards the couch, feet stepping over each other in a clumsy haste. The moment the back of Riaan’s knee hits the edge, Dane twists them around and falls backward. Riaan yelps as he’s pulled down with him, landing straight on top.
“God,” Riaan laughs, startled, “you like pulling me around, don’t you?” yet he naturally settles into a more comfortable position, straddling Dane’s lap, arms looping around his neck, lower lip in between his teeth. Dane’s hands grapple at his thighs, pulling him in closer.
“As I said,” he murmurs as he leans forward, nipping at Riaan’s ear lobe. A soft whimper slips free before he can stop it. “I’m impatient for you.”
Dane’s grip on Riaan’s legs tighten as they press flush upon each other. Riaan feels warm all over, whining quietly, and grabs hold of Dane’s collar, a greedy confidence as he tugs him back in.
Dane breathes, “You sound so pretty.”
Riaan’s face burns instantly. “Shut up,” he mumbles, shy and breathless, despite already leaning back in.
They kiss harder now, hands roaming free.
Dane’s sliding his hands up Riaan’s sides, tracing down his spine before settling at his waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. Riaan sighs into the touch, drifting one hand to Dane’s neck, thumb caressing his jaw, the other threading through his hair, tugging at the strands. It wasn't light, nor was it harsh. Perhaps, needy.
The contrast gets Dane reeling, the air thickening to grasp at his chest. Riaan kisses him harsher, fingers tightening at his jaw, drawing a faint sigh. Dane shifts, a hand cradling the back of Riaan's head, urging him in closer.
Turning their faces quicker.
Needing a breath quicker.
It’s quick, like a shooting star, gone before it’s even registered. Dane barely has time to wish on it, even though Riaan has imagined this more times than he could count. Never having predicted it to go like this, but he isn’t complaining.
Hesitance dissolves. They kiss like teenagers. But that was the truth. Years of restraint keeling over all at once. Late teens passed, opportunities missed, and now? They aren't embarrassed, clearly deprived of each other.
They fall into rhythm. Dane melds their lips together, tasting heat in Riaan's mouth. His heart races. He licks Riaan’s bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Their holds tighten. Riaan’s lips part, allowing tongues to slide against each other. Their lips clash with a slight hurry. Teeth’s clacking clumsily. They move quicker, chasing the kiss. The flavor—the scent—the texture—
A rasp, very needed, breath interrupts.
“You keep biting,” Riaan murmurs against his lips, cheeks burning red.
“My bad,” Dane grins, cupping Riaan's cheeks, stealing the warmth.
Pressed together, they feel each other's palpitating hearts. Dane’s jaw aches from Riaan’s hold, but he can't help but be attracted of it. Riaan’s breath hitches when he feels a hand slip past his shirt, hesitation apparent as it pauses at his waist, the cold fingertips buzzing upon his skin.
Riaan doesn't mind, distracted by Dane’s kisses that travel to the corner of his lips, fingers tangling further in Dane’s hair. Then to his cheek in soft pecks. Riaan tightens his hold, sensitive to the tender sensation. Dane follows the line of his jaw with open-mouthed kisses, swallowing in his familiar scent with each passing second. Riaan can’t help but shake at the heat, shifting in place.
The heat in Dane doesn't dissipate, but it’s abruptly replaced by a particular, drastic despair. He breaks the touch with a whiny scowl and drops his forehead against Riaan’s shoulder.
“Why’d you stop?” Riaan sulks, pulling Dane’s chin up to face him, worry catching up to him.
Dane mumbles, words barely coherent, “Wanna bite—but…can't mark you…” He doesn't make eye contact, fingers fidgeting with the hem of Riaan's shirt.
Riaan whines, arms tightening at Dane’s shoulder's, tugging him in closer, “It doesn't matter, I—”
Although reluctant, Dane shakes his head, cutting Riaan off. Dane can't help but let out a surprised laugh at his own impatience.
“I’ve already bitten your lips enough,” Dane chuckles softly, thumb tracing the small cuts along Riaan's lower lip.
Dane kisses him again, brief and teasing, grinning at the way Riaan reacts.
“Angel?” he rests his forehead against Riaan’s, closing the gap with another gentle peck.
Riaan pouts, an attempt to refute, but Dane cuts him off with another quick peck. Then another. The blush on Riaan’s face deepens with each chaste kiss.
Something settles. A slow realization.
Riaan feels…domestic? This feels…easy?
He remembers how difficult it used to feel. How heavy the reasons for staying silent were. The fear of ruining something already good, of wanting too much, incessantly grating at the back of his mind. How choosing to stay quiet had felt like the right thing to do. Responsible, mature, and truly necessary. Convincing himself that he was safer in the silence. He remembers swallowing it down. Laughing it off. Telling himself he was fine with just this.
And now here they are, pressed together, kisses soft and willing, everything so natural it almost feels unreal. Nothing forced. Nothing taken. Just mutual.
Riaan’s eyes twinkle as it all clicks.
“Our stylists will kill us,” Dane says, smiling light.
“You’re too logical…” blinking slow, Riaan’s petulant, but he smiles, content in Dane's hold.
Dane hums, caressing Riaan's sides, “you don't like it?”
Riaan shakes his head in defeat by the pesky logic, eyes fluttering close as he takes in a slow breath. “It’s okay, I get it,” he says, leaning in for another kiss with a tender hold on Dane, remaining soft and easy.
Riaan shifts, the position beginning to strain at his legs. The energy between them doesn’t fade, just settling into something warmer.
“C’mere,” Dane murmurs, guiding him aside. Always attentive, Riaan can't help but smile.
Riaan slides slightly to the right, settling beside Dane on the couch. He ends up tucked against Dane’s side, legs resting over Dane’s lap. The leather is cold where he’s shifted, but he quickly leans back into Dane, arms slipping around his neck as if to make up for the lost warmth.
Dane snakes an arm around Riaan’s waist, grounding him there “You okay?” he asks.
Riaan nods against his shoulder, “Yeah, all good.”
Dane traces small circles on Riaan’s lower back, “Was it highschool?” he asks quietly, curious.
Resting his forehead on Dane’s shoulder, Riaan tilts his head, sounding his confusion through a soft noise.
“When you started to like me, was it highschool?” Dane clarifies, nudging Riaan’s head gently with his chin.
Riaan looks up, eyes peeking through his lashes. Blinking slow as he thinks.
“This might sound stupid,” Riaan laughs to himself.
Dane beams a small smile, prodding their foreheads together. “It won't be. Tell me,” Dane pecks his lips once, then waits.
Riaan takes a few breaths, figuring it out in his head first, making it coherent.
“I realized it during the show. When you rejected being in my team,” Riaan says, voice steady like he’s recited this before. He may have. He has thought about it a lot, figuring out his feelings and conclusions.
He feels Dane clutch at his shirt. It was a light movement. Not deliberate. As if Riaan would run away. Or perhaps Dane worries about how he had during the show.
“Two years ago,” Riaan notes quickly, “Don't worry. I was never mad about it.”
Dane nods, hand settling back into tracing idle shapes.
“I didn't mind at first. Cause I understood, yeah, new experiences, whatever, it's good to learn with new people, yeah yeah,” Riaan mocks, rolling his eyes. Fingers absentmindedly twirling in Dane's hair.
Riaan's eyes sweep across random points in the room, recalling his memories, “But working on a song without you? I’m pretty sure…I realized my feelings through your absence.”
One of Riaan's arm came back to rest on his knees, finger pointing lightly at Dane's chest at any mention of him.
“I remember trying to figure things out with the song and looking for you,” Riaan sighs, admitting. “I kept looking for you.”
Dane smirks. But it's soft. “Well, I’m glad you don't have to look for me anymore,” caressing Riaan’s jaw as he lifts his face.
“Yeah,” Riaan rolls his eyes, feeble, “You’re always fucking there.” He breaks into soft laughter, collapsing further into Dane—then stills.
“Fuck. I don't know what I would've done if we didn't debut together,” Riaan mutters, burying his face into Dane’s neck, not willing to think about it further.
“I know you would figure it out,” Dane kisses his temple, fingers tracing slow reassurance along his arm.
A pause.
“I’ve liked you longer than I’ll admit,” Dane says quietly, raising Riaan’s face to brush against his lips, connecting for a short second.
Riaan purrs into the kiss, curious until—
“Ah—hold on,” Dane says, slowly pulling back, “I think I need to say this now, fuck—Riaan, I'm sorry.”
A look of confusion, Riaan purses his lips in, waiting for Dane to continue.
“For earlier,” Dane continues, “I should’ve just let you finish speaking but I don’t know, I…was shocked—sad? Angry? I couldn't tell. I think I got too anxious. I haven't processed it yet, but I know I won't be able to sleep if I don't get this out now.”
Riaan averts from holding any gaze, nodding, “Oh. Thank you. Um…I need some time to think about it too. We moved a bit…quick,” Riaan blushes but it fades when he continues, “Still, I know I fucked up too…I made you cry. I hate that I did that. I should’ve just said it all from the start. I just hesitated so much. I’m sorry.”
Dane caresses his cheek, “I get it, honestly, all of it was kinda confusing. Also we’re tired, it’s late, shit happens,” Dane pauses, but gently brings Riaan’s wrist up to his lips, kissing it, “And I grabbed you earlier, without thinking. That wasn’t okay. I didn’t mean to, I—yeah…I’m really sorry.”
Riaan nods in acknowledgment. A soft silence sits, belonging to them.
“…also…was I being…too adamant on the whole kissing thing?” Riaan asks, hesitant.
Danes eyes widen a bit before he collects himself with a soft smile. “Maybe a little, but I didn’t mind. I definitely would’ve kissed you tonight anyway.”
Riaan’s cheeks redden, as if they weren’t already crimson, “Okay. I just—I got a bit scared I was pressuring you.“
“That’s fair, but you didn't. I would’ve said no if I didn’t want it. I was just surprised, that’s all,” Dane gives him an assured smile.
“…are you sure?”
“Trust me…don’t overthink it. I very much wanted to kiss you.”
Riaan exhales in relief, biting in a small smile, “Okay. I’ll trust you.”
Silence follows again, peacefully twirling about. Fingers idly finding familiar places.
“Um…can we kiss more?” Riaan mumbles, shy but hopeful.
“Where’d all your ‘kiss me now’ confidence go?” Dane lets out a warm laugh, amused at Riaan’s playful pout, “I would absolutely love to, but I literally just looked at the clock, and it’s almost four in the morning.”
“Fuck,” Riaan groans, pressing his forehead into Dane’s neck, “When do we have to wake up tomorrow—well, today?”
“In about 5 hours…”
“God, kill me.”
Dane laughs, embracing Riaan’s head, threading his fingers through the soft strands as he lightly ruffles it about, “Let’s head home for tonight, hm?”
“You're being awfully logical today,” Riaan frowns, mild. As much as he wants to whine in protest, he knows Dane is adamant when he wants to be, so he nods against his chest, hugging him closer. “Carry me home?” he asks.
“Sure.”
Riaan chuckles, drawing away, “Just joking, sweetheart.” He looks at him with some sort of longing gaze, before giving him a chaste kiss and swiftly getting up, finally moving to collect their things.
Dane lets out a pleased sigh, watching him fondly before walking up to him, “You know I can carry you…if you really want.” Resting his hands on Riaan's waist from behind, Dane kisses the side of his neck.
Riaan's breath hitches violently at the fevered touch, “Keep that up and I'll make sure we don't leave this studio until our schedule,” he says, stern, logic finally coming back to him.
Dane laughs, enveloping Riaan into a tight back hug, “Fuck. I like you so much. I can't believe it took this long.”
“Acting like you couldn't do anything,” Riaan says, zipping his laptop bag close. Goosebumps litter his skin even as he acts mellow, heart flipping at Dane’s words.
“I made peace with admiring you from afar.”
Riaan huffs, turning around, “and if I got together with someone else?” raising a brow as he tries to hide back a smile.
“Don't gotta think about that anymore,” Dane mutters, taking Riaan's lips in for a deep kiss. Riaan sighs, hands releasing upon Dane's chest as they part.
“Focus on packing up, angel,” Dane teases.
Riaan punches his chest lightly, “I'm trying. You're a distraction.”
Dane reacts with a soft laugh.
A quiet silence follows as they pack up for the night. A jittery excitement still bound in the air, despite their tiredness. Soft smiles and warm touches still lingering between them.