Wandering and Wondering

Getting out of the bath was way more challenging than it should have been. Your legs trembled, the muscles on your entire lower half refusing to respond to any command.

You weren't slow because you were tired or sore, but because you were so terrifyingly relaxed you couldn't even convince yourself to rush. Like there wasn't a problem in the world you couldn't fix, not a challenge you couldn't tackle, and you knew even then that that was a dangerous place to be. 

The colder air in the room hit you, but you didn't even have the chance to feel it before III's long limbs wrapped around you. 

"There she is, my Giggles," he kissed the side of your head, and then your lips. "Are you okay? How did you sleep?"

You almost forgot you were supposed to be shook and upset about what happened the night before. The smile on your face was genuine. 

"I'm much better, III," you ruffled his white hair, seeing his eyes widen with a little surprise. "II kept me company through the night."

"Fucking finally," the bassist exclaimed. "Thought you two would never get out of your own arses."

II chuckled from the small table behind you, and the sight was nothing short of beautiful. He was completely relaxed, cheeks flushed, wearing a white robe similar to yours, wet blonde hair messy and pushed back. IV was sitting beside him, picking on the fancy breakfast they had ordered, slightly leaning towards the drummer like a teenager in love. 

And then, with the habit you developed of checking if every single one of them were in the room with you, you noticed Vessel sitting on the corner of the couch, a little away from everyone, in silence. 

"Come eat, love," II pushed the chair in front of him with his foot. "Coffee will get cold."

"Yeah, one sec," you smiled, slipping from III's hug, walking towards Vessel who looked at you, and then at the carpet, almost as if he didn't want to maintain eye contact. "You okay, Ves?"

He smiled a tight smile, and nodded. You weren't convinced, but thought you wouldn't get anything out of him right there.

"Come," you said, wrapping your fingers around his.  "Have breakfast with me. Sit next to me."

Something about Vessel made you a hundred times softer than you already were. It wasn't pity, it wasn't you trying to fix whatever some may think was wrong with him. Truth was, you kind of envied his softness, his capability of living within his emotions the whole time. 

He wasn't perfect, far from it, and probably not even close to accept himself like the others did, but he wasn't scared of looking into the abyss of himself, and that alone was a lot. His face melted into a fond grin, and he got up first, guiding you to the improvised breakfast table. The small, round table in the corner of the room was filled with joy, cramped with pastries and smiling boys. 

Vessel seemed more focused on making sure you would eat than feeding himself. He didn't practically shoved food into your mouth like II did, but he'd watch intently, almost without blinking, lightly chuckling when you tried to speak with your mouth full. Things were easy, and fun, and almost enough to convince you they could stay like this forever.

No one touched on the subject of what happened the night before, nor asked you how things would play out from then on. Maybe they didn't want to burst the bubble, or maybe they just didn't remember to ask. The latter felt like the most likely.

II and IV finished their breakfast and went to get dressed, so you decided to do the same. III left to get some things he would need for the day in his room, and when you were tying your boots II came up to you with his phone in his hand. 

"Jax wants me to discuss some things for today, love," he informed. "Take your time getting ready, the rest of the crew is still getting breakfast. I'll see you in the bus, yeah?"

The drummer tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear and leaned down to kiss you. The proximity triggered your whole body, making you pull him by the collar of his soft black t-shirt and deepen the kiss. His hand felt so good on the base of your neck, his thumb tracing caresses on the column of your throat. 

You felt like a teenager with the biggest crush of her life, your brain swimming with love hormones every time one of them looked at you the way II was looking at you at that moment, like he would rather go blind than to look anywhere else. He caught your lower lip between his teeth and let go of it with a harsh pull. IV said he'd go with him, and after kissing your knuckles the door closed behind them, leaving you and Vessel alone. 

"So," you started, fastening the straps on your boots. "Wanna tell me what's bothering you?"

He didn't look at you, just shrugged.

"Don't shut me out, Ves," you asked, hoping it wouldn't sound like you were begging. "Not after everything we already went through."

He looked at you from the corner of his eye first, a green gem shining your way in the morning light. Then he looked straight ahead again, towards the wall, and sighed deeply.

"How's it gonna be, from now on?," his voice was so quiet, for a while you wondered whether he was talking to you or to himself.

"How what is going to be?"

Vessel shifted on his seat, restless. 

"Do I keep doing what I was doing? Keeping my distance, letting you work, giving you room to breathe?," there was no bite in his voice, but a careful attempt of investigation, as if he was inspecting a hallway in the dark. 

You took a deep breath. You knew what you wanted. II's confession the night before, when he said he didn't want to keep pretending that that didn't mean anything for him, kept replaying in your mind. 

"I'm not really sure about how to do this, Ves," you quietly confessed. 

He was ready for what he thought you meant by that, and there is such thing as being too prepared. You watched Vessel get up, suddenly a little too restless to stay seated. 

"It's fine," he said softly, turning towards the balcony. Again, no bite, just a small defeated sound.

"It obviously isn't," you pointed out. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"II was my last hope for you to change your mind, and not treat me—treat us, as a dirty secret," he said in one breath. "I thought he'd change your mind, that you'd listen to him. II is reasonable, but persistent. He knows how to convince, and how to compromise."

Vessel pushed away from the balcony, and walked over to you in the sofa. He didn't want to loom over you, so he sat down by your side, gently took your hand in his, tugging you to look at him. 

"I don't mean to push you," he tried to explain. "But are you sure you're doing this just for your work?"

There was no way you could've known what he was hinting at. 

"Why? What do you think I'm doing?," you weren't feeling defensive, only genuinely curious. 

He shook his head, his beautiful light brown hair falling over his eyes. 

"Are you really sure this is really about the work?," he insisted. "Because I've been a secret before, you know? I've tried... I've tried so fucking hard to be with someone who was ashamed of having me by her side. I know it entirely too well, the routine of a woman who thinks I'm only good at night, and I'm not sure if I can do this again. I want to, though, I wanna at least try, if that's just what you want from me. But the others... They don't deserve it. I don't think—," Vessel took a really deep breath, the air coming out in shaky puffs from his throat. "I don't think they should be treated like a dirty secret. I need to know if you're really just protecting your job, or if you're protecting yourself from us."

Your mouth opened and closed a few times without a sound. It felt like a slap in the face, the fact that you were being accused of using them, the same way you once feared they were using you. 

"Vessel, I don't—I'm not—," you hated the loss for words at such crucial moment, because you weren't... Like that. 

It didn't matter what kind of trauma Vessel carried with him. It didn't matter how he felt about himself, or what it looked like from the outside. This thing he was afraid of didn't exist in you. 

"It's okay," he said, heartbreakingly quiet, terrifyingly gentle. "I told you, I want to give you what you need, I'm just... I'm scared I don't have it in me anymore."

There wasn't a way of telling how much time went by of you reassuring him, repeating over and over that really, no one deserved to be treated like a secret, that you didn't want him only at night, that this whole idea was absurd. It felt alien, even, to think someone would look at Vessel and not want to climb him like a tree, not want to kiss him in front of everyone, to be able to claim him and not want to. But the words fell limp every time they hit his walls. 

For a man whose soul was built on scars and old ghosts, his armor had grown thicker with time. His jaw kept tightening, a bitter reflex, and his fingers slightly loosened around yours. Deep down, he knew you didn't mean it like that, but the remnants of feeling unsafe, of feeling wanted only sometimes, of feeling seen only when it was convenient, didn't leave much room for logic. 

In the dark corners of his mind, it wasn't a feeling, but a fact, that he was inadequate, ugly, unlovable. Those weren't momentary hiccups, those were his identity. And that the black ink imprint he left on others were shameful, something that could even be adored at some point, but discarded when convenience called for it. 

It was a default setting that wouldn't be easily rewritten: I am the problem. I am the thing people hide.

But you tried. You used every word you could think of to try and show him what he meant to you. And it became quite clear to you very soon that only words wouldn't cut it this time, when you told him he was your anchor, that he was what you searched for every time he was away, that his light, his passion, his surrender to his own emotions, were your compass, and his response was a mere nod.

"I hear you, angel," he murmured with dead eyes. "I get it, I do. Thank you."

He was agreeing with you just to stop the bleeding, already preparing to retreat back into the shadows where it was safe, where he knew the rules.

It would be impossible to pinpoint exactly when you made up your mind. It might have been when II told you he didn't want to pretend anymore, or when III caught you by the hair and told you he doesn't do secrets, or when IV thought you didn't like him but was willing to risk his career for you anyway. Or it might have been right there, when Vessel told you he never felt loved in daylight. 

You couldn't tell exactly what or when, but something inside you broke, and suddenly, you could see it clearly. You loved them. They loved you. 

It wasn't something anyone could explain, but you knew you would do anything for them. Anything, if it meant they were happy. Anything, so you wouldn't see what you were seeing in Vessel's eyes. 

You looked at your wrist watch.

"It's almost time," you suddenly announced, making him look at you. "Go get your things, we need to get to the venue."

"It's alright, you go with the gear," he shook his head, getting up from the couch. "We'll go by car in time for soundcheck."

"No, you're coming with me," you demanded. "If you don't have anything else to do, I'd appreciate if you could stay close while I work?"

Vessel looked at you suspiciously. He thought you were only asking him that to make him feel wanted, but he also wouldn't say no to such request. You got up as well, and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the door.

If he wouldn't listen to you, you would show him, the same way they did to you. 

You understood Vessel, you really did. Words only go so far, and you realized then that the four of them didn't waste much time with words, but with actions instead. 

They cared for you, they were always there for you when you needed them, they reached for you when you distanced yourself from them. So it was your turn now, to act brave, to love loud, to be consumed by it and see what it turns you into. 

In the elevator, you kept both his hands in yours, and started talking about the specifics of the festival until a small smile bloomed on his face. He looked down at you with nothing short of adoration, no matter how hurt he was. And when the doors opened to the hotel lobby, it was littered with both your crew and the local one, roadies, techs, sound and light engineers, stage managers, tour managers, label managers. 

And you pulled Vessel by the hand anyway. You wrapped yourself around his arm, and looked up to him with stars behind your eyes. He looked apprehensive, not wanting you to do anything you would regret later on. 

You saw III and IV talking to Jax and another roadie at the opposite side of the lobby, and you pulled Vessel with you towards them, lacing your fingers together. You were going to hold his hand on the bus, and you were going to ruffle his hair during production, and you would kiss him in the middle of the stage if it was what it took for him to believe he belonged to the daylight as well as the night. 

Vessel let himself be pulled towards his bandmates, your steps determined and fast, eyes set on the back of III's head. The first person who saw you approaching while pulling Vessel with you was Jax. 

"Good morning," you said cheerfully, and they all looked a little taken aback by your tone before greeting you. 

"Morning, pet," III said from your right, pretending he was seeing you for the first time that day, smile hidden behind a paper cup filled with coffee. "Looking beautiful as ever."

Seeing III's effort to keep it casual even after reinstating time and time again that he hated keeping secrets, made you even more grateful for their respect for your boundaries, even when it hurt them. Especially when it hurt them. But you were done with those boundaries now. 

First, you smiled at him, in a way you usually reserved for closed doors. Then, as if your free hand had a mind of its own, it reached for the soft cotton of III's black hoodie, and closed a fist around it. You leaned forward while pulling him to you at the same time, placing a firm, deliberate kiss on his cheek, while your hand rose to stroke the jawline you absolutely loved. 

The action was met with a yelp from him, a genuine sound born in his throat while his jaw slackened. 

"What the—what are you—," his lack of words was nothing but adorable, and his mumbling was a bit too loud for the lobby, echoing across the marble floors. 

His hand shot up to your waist, but stopped midway and hovered there, not wanting to cross any lines, but you could see it, how much he wanted to pull you in, how much he wanted to be louder than you. But he didn't, like a gentleman, III just tried to laugh it off, tried to regain his bravado but failed miserably, hands awkwardly twitching, face glowing red. Your hand remained stroking the short blonde stubble on his jaw for a heartbeat longer. 

You looked at him from your eyelashes, then at IV, then at Vessel, who looked as stunned as he was, the guitarist looking one second away from pulling you to him by the hair. Not that you would be so opposed to it at that point. But you just shrugged and laughed, a clear and genuine sound, that the boys wondered if they had any permission to mimic. 

Vessel's massive hand twitched in your grasp, and instead of letting go, you tugged him forward, until his knee hit the back of your thigh. You've been hugged by them before, you've kissed their masked faces after concerts to congratulate them, but this was nothing like it. Holding Vessel's hand, kissing III's face, wasn't a declaration of what have been happening inside hotel rooms between the five of you, but it still was incredibly flirty, enough to make everyone wonder what exactly were you doing.

"Ah, there he is," III finally put a whole sentence together, looking above your shoulder. 

As always, you felt II before you saw him, something about his energy coming in waves from behind you, making you turn slightly at the direction III was looking at. II was maskless, sporting a smile that almost screamed that he got laid the night before, holding two steaming cups. 

"Excuse the delay," the drummer finally said. "Saw you crossing the lobby and figured you'd want some coffee before leaving."

You smiled sheepishly with gratitude, taking the cup from him and blowing on it before taking a sip. 

"Thank you, II," you said lovingly, surprising even yourself with the lovestruck tone.

That was the first time your hand left Vessel's, when you carefully slid your fingers away from him to grab at the hem of II's shirt, tugging on it slightly before he could retreat into the background. Stay here, you meant to say, looking at him and hoping he would understand. He blinked, a soft, infatuated smile pulling at his mouth as he instantly dropped his anchor right beside you. 

Finding yourself surrounded, the atmosphere would've been perfect if Jax hadn't felt the need to burst the bubble.

"Ahem," your manager gave one discreet step forward. "We had changes on the schedule, rookie", he handed you a few lose sheets of paper with the new schedule, color coded and organized with the bands that were supposed to share the stage with you. "Main stage load-in is shifted up by thirty minutes because of a weather delay on the secondary stage. I need someone to review the patch-panel assignments for the festival's shared audio rack."

You nodded, looking at the plan in your hand once again. From your peripheral vision, you could see IV crooning his neck to look at the schedule as well. For one second, you thought he was going to rest his chin on your shoulder. 

"We'll be playing after Bad Omens, this patch-panel will be fine," he offered, low, soft voice indicating he was talking to you rather than Jax. "The secondary stage bleed I heard last night worries me more."

The guitarist's technical ears have been helpful to you since day one. Your professional side struggled a little bit with it, saying you shouldn't rely on the talent to tell you what to do. A more rational voice, though, told you that if you hadn't been so hesitant and actually listened to him, you would've learned plenty by now.

"IV's right," you told Jax. "The bleeding is gonna hit the drums mics if we don't adjust the  baffling on the riser." 

The way Jax looked at you didn't sit well, as if your manager was looking for a slip, anything wrong with your professionalism, so he could start picking at you like the rest of the crew. Your back went rigid, your eyes more alert. It would definitely be a hit, if you lost Jax' trust in the process of choosing your boys. 

You felt a heavy hand on your shoulder, and instantly knew it was Vessel's. Jax let out a heavy sigh.

"Good point," he offered. "I'm gonna have Marcus move the riser and redo the cabling."

"Actually," you said quickly, muscles jumping at the mention of Marcus' name. "I was hoping I could be the one to do it? Sam has been teaching me all things drums and—"

"You're already rigging the bass and the guitar practically by yourself," Jax interrupted, raising his hand. "One person can't take care of the whole stage alone."

But you wanted to, oh how you wanted to. Not a chance you would let those roadies anywhere near your band.

"But—"

"No, we need to be faster and more practical tonight, rookie," Jax interrupted. "I respect the enthusiasm, but with Marcus' strength and experience he'll get it done in half the time."

Men, you thought, fighting hard not to roll your eyes. 

"Get Andy and Sam to do it then," II suddenly spoke. "You know I trust your judgement, Jax, and I agree she shouldn't be doing everything by herself. But you also know I can't stand that roadie, and I don't want him touching the riser or my kit." 

Jax nodded, seemingly a little bitter about it. 

"Fine," the manager said, exhaling heavily through his nose. "I'll talk to them and get them to do it."

"If I may, Jax," you started shyly. "The lighting team will need all help they can get, and Marcus, Zach, and such, have the kind of experience they'll need."

Your manager tilted his head, considering. "Thanks for the input, rookie. Go get ready and I'll talk to Andy."

"I'm ready," you announced. "I'll go get Andy and we'll be in the bus in ten. Don't you worry about a thing, boss."

Jax seemed pleased at that, and you turned on your heels to find Andy. Your stomach was fluttering with a new form of happiness, your whole body vibrating in optmism. You could do this. 

You could give your best at work without sacrificing your heart. If people thought you were less because of who you loved, they would have to work extra hard to find flaws in your work. 

"You did great, love," II quietly said by your ear, sounding proud and filled with joy. "But don't worry about us, yeah? You don't have to overwork yourself or fall into Jax's bad side because of us. We'll handle the roadies."

"Been dying to, actually," IV mumbled under his breath. 

"You won't do anything," you commanded, with no real bite to your voice. 

IV smiled sheepishly, and was still a little startled when you reached out to caress his face, your hand lingering on the base of his neck until he hummed a pleased note. 

"You'll all behave and we'll see this tour through without any other issues," you said firmly, stopping before reaching the glass doors. "No threats, no nasty comments, no getting anyone fired without a good reason, and especially, no violence whatsoever, no matter the circumstances. Am I clear?"

"We have good reasons alright," III grumbled, shooting you a nasty look.

"III," you called. "Don't do this, please. I'm asking you. All of you."

The response was a jumble of bitter 'yeahs' and 'fines', which wasn't ideal, but would be enough if it wasn't for IV's grumpy silence. 

"Ivy," you called, piercing blue eyes shining your way. "Was I clear?"

A heavy puff of air left his nose. "The 'no matter the circumstances' part doesn't sit well with me, darling," he admitted easily. 

"Nothing they do will justify lowering ourselves down to their level," you chastised, listening to even Vessel mumble something like "well, that's a bit of a stretch."

IV scoffed. "That's not true, is it."

"IV," you insisted.

"Best I can do is promise I'll try," he said bitterly.

You looked at him with a hard expression, knowing you probably wouldn't win that fight, not in the middle of the lobby, in the aftermath of what Marcus and Zach just tried to do to you. Your expression melted soon enough, shoulders falling away from your ears, more at ease. 

"I'll take it," you conceded, earning a charming wink from him. "For now." 

After the brief talk, your hand searched for Vessel's again, automatically. You weren't thinking about any consequences, and you didn't notice people staring. To your satisfaction, you felt Vessel eventually relax in your grasp, his thumb caressing your knuckles, fingers gripping your forearm when you needed to use your hand for something else. 

It never occurred to you that Vessel might be a touchy person until you realized he was holding back only for your sake. It should've been obvious, considering he was always touching his bandmates, running his fingers through III's hair, holding IV by the shoulders, placing a firm, gentle hand on the back of II's neck. You just never considered yourself one of them, you supposed.

Eventually, you found a very dumbfounded looking Andy, his eyes unable to focus on you, jumping to the men surrounding you, seemingly without his permission. It was comical, seeing him squint at the way III was talking to Vessel, while the singer had both hands where your neck met your shoulders, like a collar of flesh. 

"II wants you to help Sam with the riser," you informed your friend. "He says he trust your work, and it's important that we move it just right because of the bleeding from the secondary stage."

You watched your friend's chest swell with pride.

"Don't worry, we'll get it done perfectly in no time," he said directly to II standing by your side, and the drummer thanked him. "What happened to you last night, rookie?," Andy asked, eyes jumping to the band once again. "You disappeared from the party!"

"I promise I'll tell you later," you said, taking a step back, feeling the weight of everything you had to live the last 24 hours. 

"Come on, you always say that!," Andy demanded, throwing his cup of coffee in the trash with unnecessary force. 

"Well, this time I mean it," you looked at him, and then at your boys. "I'm done with secrets."

---

Not that you really had to say anything. 

Until that moment, the morning schedule before a concert was a very well oiled machine, and it was always the same routine: the crew would load up one bus that followed the trucks to the venue for load-in, and sweat it through while the band rest in the sterile luxury of their hotel rooms. It was important that the talent was well rested for soundcheck, and that everything was ready for when they arrived. Breaking such choreography was too obvious of a neon sign by itself, and the way you did it wasn't exactly discreet either. 

It started with the band climbing up the crew bus before you, that very morning. You and Andy were one of the last to hop on the bus, which meant most of your colleagues were already there to watch, when Vessel lead the rest of his bandmates to the lounge area. He sat at the forward-facing leather seats, with III by his side, the bassist's long legs stretched over the armrest. 

II assumed his position one step behind you, as he always did, after you entered. IV occupied the corridor, cold, piercing eyes staring at any crew member who dared to linger too much. The guitarist, always the most polite and gentle of the four, was now growing colder and colder towards the crew, save for Andy and Sam. 

Even though you knew it was because of Marcus and Zach, a silly part of yourself still insisted on feeling guilty, an annoying voice inside your head telling you were the toxic element in the room, you were poisoning the dynamics between band and crew. It wasn't true though, and no one else was to blame except two roadies who should be forbidden of getting anywhere near anyone ever again. You were trying to convince yourself of this while removing the heavy tool bag from your tired shoulder, dropping it heavily on the small table in front of Vessel, massaging your shoulder harshly. 

You felt a strong hand wrap around yours and tug on it. Not demanding, just tentative, a quiet question asked in front of everyone. It took you a little too long to understand it. 

Vessel tugged you forward once again, looking into your eyes. You started suspecting what he meant, seeing his shoulders squared, and eyes round and pleading, as if he was already fully prepared for you to retreat, to deny him. You let your body be guided though, and after the third soft pull from his hand, you stopped right between his thighs. 

His breath hitched quietly, noticing your body language fully open and malleable, completely different from what he expected. You finally understood, and smiled at him. Turning sideways, you let your weight sink on his lap, leaving his hand to rest across your legs while you wraped your arms around his broad shoulders. 

They all seemed surprised to see you sinking into his embrace as if you craved his protection, including Andy and the two audio techs sitting across from you, who couldn't help but stare. It took Vessel a few seconds to slowly start moving his arms, wrapping them around your waist, delicately at first, as if he was afraid of scaring you away. When he noticed you wouldn't jump away from him, his fingers dug into the flesh beneath your ribs almost to the point of bruising, pulling you to his chest in a possessive grip. 

Vessel slotted his in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply when your fingers tangled to the short hairs on the nape of his neck. He didn't kiss you, didn't even touch any skin that wasn't covered by clothes, but he didn't have to.

That embrace was way more intimate than most makeout sessions you had before meeting them, and deep down you were aware everyone could see it, Jax could see it, the tour managers could see it. It was fine by you. As long as you and your boys were happy. 

---

Vessel only let you go when you arrived at the festival grounds. Until then, you kept talking to them while resting your hands on the singer's shoulder. Anyone could see how happy you were, how your colleagues chose to interpret that was none of your concern. 

Just like most of the crew, Andy couldn't stop staring, even though you could see how hard he tried to. IV took a seat by the aisle, staring down anyone who lingered for too long, until they looked away. III kept his feet up, talking with a smile that must've hurt, radiating a chaotic energy that felt both proud and possessively jealous, as if he was just waiting for his turn at that point. 

And II, oh your beloved II, sat right across from you in a feeble attempt to protect you and Vessel from unwanted eyes, just in case you regretted the public displays. 

When the bus stopped at the venue, the adrenaline from having to build a show of that magnitude was already pumping through your veins. The roadies started to filter out through the tiny bus door, and you slowly peeled yourself away from Vessel's warm embrace, part of you wishing you could stay there for the rest of the day, and part of you wanting to get work done so you could see them on stage again. Andy stopped at the door and signaled for you to come, and Vessel let you go half-heartedly, your hand sliding from his grasp slowly.

Jax had his clipboard and a laser-focus stare when you exited the bus. He squinted at you, and even though your stomach flipped, you went for a confident smile. 

"Got everything you need, rookie?," he asked you. "Remember your schedule?"

You gulped. "Yeah, boss, I got it," you nodded firmly.

It was easy to see he wanted to ask what were you playing at, if the distractions wouldn't get in the way of your job, but Jax wasn't this kind of guy. So you decided to just move on. 

Andy wrapped a firm hand around your wrist and pulled you forward with him. 

"You're not getting away this time, Miss," he said between gritted teeth. "You're telling me everything."

Letting yourself be dragged to the loading docks to oversee the assembly of a massive video wall truss, you were thankful that Andy waited small moments of privacy to start asking questions. Once you watched the crew quietly disperse for the first cigarette break, Andy's hand covered your busy fists.

"Alright, drop those testers for a second," he asked, leaning against a road case. "Because I'm losing my mind here. I thought you said you were with III? Then, after you left us last night, I saw you talking to the Bad Omens' frontman, and IV looks one second away to throw a fit and drag you by the hair out of there," you watched him take a comically exasperated bite out of his protein bar. "Then, you suddenly storm out, and I watch II rush out behind you like the building was on fire, and the five of you simply disappeared. Even people from the label were looking for them. And then, this morning, you walk into the lobby glued to Vessel's arm, and you sit on his knee while riding here as if it was the most normal thing in the world."

Andy's speech sounded so rehearsed you wondered how many times he went through those facts in his head before finally saying them out loud. A couple of roadies passed by staring at you, and you kept waiting for them to leave before saying something. 

"Okay," you nodded, suddenly aware that you didn't know how to say what you wanted to say. "I'm gonna tell you, but don't make a big fuss over it?," you pleaded, eyebrows scrunched together. 

He scoffs. "Rookie, it is a big fuss already, in case you didn't notice, everyone is looking, everyone is commenting already. They have been behaving strange for a while now, but having them here in the morning just to look at you is just... Bizarre."

You nodded. "I know," you agreed, inhaling heavily, you wished there was a way for you to tell him what you wanted in one single breath. "It's all of them. I'm with all of them."

Andy froze, protein bar stopping halfway to his mouth. He blinked once. Twice.

"All... Four?"

"... Yeah..."

A moment passed in absolute silence, with Andy just staring at you, only a blank expression on his face. And then he screeched. 

"I knew it!!!," he all but yelled, laughing hysterically.

"Shhhh," you jumped on him, making him shut up. "I know everyone can see it, but you don't have to yell!"

"Okay, okay, just take a step back, I don't want IV chasing me out of this venue," he joked, wiping the corner of his eye, watching you pull a face. "I'm joking! I'm joking." 

Huffing a shy laugh, you shook your head. How was this your life? 

"But yeah... Before you ask, no, I don't know how to navigate it, or where we're going with it," you hated how bitter you sound at that. "I'm trying to figure out how to go forward without management losing their minds."

"Forget about management," he advised, waving a hand at you. "If you were a guy with a bunch of women no one would bat an eye. They're used to it, and they will survive. All you gotta do is ignore some nasty comments and fifth grade jokes."

"Yeah, I'm worried about my job, though," you confessed. "Scared that management will deem me a distraction and send me packing."

Andy scoffed at that. "They won't. You're great at your job, you do it better than half the people here," he offered you a gentle squeeze on your shoulder, but then wiggled his eyebrows at you. "And I suppose having the whole band wrapped around your finger would help too."

You groaned and threw the rag you were using to clean your hands at him, who laughed. 

"This job is important to me," you merely said, shrugging. 

"Now more than ever, I assume," he commented. "Don't worry about the crew, or your job, you are safe. There are more important subjects at the moment."

He laughed at your raised eyebrow. "Such as...?"

"How are they?," he shot without batting an eye, coming closer to you. 

"They're fine," you played dumb, shrugging. 

"Come on, you know what I mean," he stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a very quiet whisper. "You gotta tell me something, anything, because... All four? I mean, at once? Separately? How does the logistics work?"

The heat creeping up your face could burn someone, but you laughed the lightest, most carefree laugh anyone has ever heard coming from you. "It's none of your business! All I'm gonna say it's that it works. They're good," you admitted, letting your arms fall, biting down on a small smile playing at your lips. "They're actually really good." 

"Yeah?," he sounded terrifyingly interested. "None of them just lie there like a star fish and let you do the work, right? Many famous people are like this."

Your mind took you back to that very morning, being sandwiched between II and IV, while they pistoned their hips purposefully out if sync. You shook your head as if trying to get water out of your ears. 

"Nope," you looked away. "Not their style at all." 

"You're thinking of a specific situation, aren't you, you slut?" 

You threw your head back with laughter, but shrugged. "I was with them this morning."

"All of them?," Andy gawked. 

"No," you said, watching his comically disappointed expression. "Only two."

And like magic, the light was back in his eyes. 

"Who?? How was it?! What did you do??," you laughed when he grabbed you by your arms and lightly shook you. "Goddamnit, rookie!"

"A lady never tells," you laughed harder at the vein popping on his neck. 

"You're gonna give me a stroke," he cried. "Come on, just one little crumb, I'm fucking begging you. One single little thing about each. Is II as much of a dom as he looks? Is III as chaotic as he looks? How is IV and Vessel? Tell me something about IV, cause I've never met someone who looked so kinky and so innocent at the same time."

The laughter coming from you both could be heard for miles. The vulnerabilities and intimacy of your boys were too precious for you to reveal it like that, so you went for playful tease. 

"Let's just say IV was a pleasant surprise," you started, sliding a cable into place and clicking the lock with a satisfying snap. "II knows what he wants, III lives up to his reputation, and Ves... Well, I'll let you imagine that one."

"I hate you," he playfully shoved you. "Okay, serious question though," his voice dropped to an even lower register. "Do they treat you right? How does it work? Is it just sex or...?"

You gulped, smile faltering for a second. At this point, there wasn't much space for you to doubt that, whatever it was that you had, it wasn't just sex. The problem was that you still didn't have a name for it. 

Regardless of your insecurities, you thought about the talks you had with each of them recently, and a sweeter, fonder smile found its way back to your face. 

"Yeah...," you nodded, grateful for his concern. "They've been really good to me. And... I don't know, Andy. They say this isn't just sex, that they want something more, but... You know it's hard to believe."

"I know," he said gently, looking at you with empathy. "But how do you feel?"

Your heart tightened in your chest. Andy observed your eyes drift from the console panel to a point above his shoulder, and an expression he never saw on your face bloomed. A sad smile, followed by a painful sigh, as if every thought that could make you sad flooded your mind at once. 

He turned around to see what you were looking at, and found the band in a loose semi circle while talking to one of the tour managers. Vessel didn't seem to be present for the conversation at all, looking in your direction the entire time. You smiled at the singer, and he smiled back, shyly. 

After sharing that small moment with Vessel, you tried to focus on the conversation, opening your mouth for the thousandth time to try and explain the unexplainable, but Andy interrupted your silly attempt. 

"Jesus, rookie," he exhaled, disbelief all over his face. "Falling for one frontman is bad enough. Catching feelings for a whole band is gonna fucking ruin you."

A breath left your lips, and you didn't know if it was a laugh or a sob. 

"I know," you merely agreed, chuckling to yourself but looking at the ground. "You're right."

"Is there any evidence that they feel the same?," he asked, now more concerned than curious. "Wouldn't they say whatever you wanna hear just to get you into bed?"

"I considered it," you admitted easily. "I still think about it. I even told them that they could be honest, I'd still be down for casual sex if that's what they wanted."

"And what did they say to that?"

"III went ballistic," you snorted. "Said I put him through enough by asking him not to grab me and kiss me in front of the crew."

Andy didn't find that hard to believe. "Definitely looks like you are the only thing they wanna look at," he signaled with his chin towards them, and now III and IV were staring at you as well. "Last night, when they realized you had left the party, II literally ran after you. IV looked like he was about to murder someone."

Your eyes went wide. "Oh, he wanted to. He wouldn't, but I could see he wanted to," you took a swig from the water bottle Andy handed to you. "After I left the lounge, Marcus and Zach cornered me on my way to the elevators."

The whole loud and gossipy demeanor fell off from Andy.

"What did they do?," he asked very quietly.

You scoured your brain for more tasteful words, suddenly too self aware for some reason, as if you had anything to be ashamed of. 

"They made it clear they knew I'm with the band," you started carefully, unable to look at him. "And that they thought they could touch me as well, since 'everyone is doing it'. They almost had me pinned against the fire door."

Andy hissed a curse under his breath. "I'm so sorry, rookie," he didn't have much to say. "They're absolute pieces of shit. They're popular in the industry for making women quit."

They were in for a treat if they thought you would back down because of two small dicks like those.

"They couldn't do anything though," you continued. "The band showed up, all of them. II and IV arrived first, and they immediately backed down. There was no need for confrontation, as unfortunate it seemed to be for IV."

"Okay...," he seemed deep in thought. "And why do they still have their front teeth? And their jobs?"

The unimpressed look on your face could cut through stone. "Don't even joke about it. Nothing happened to them because they didn't do anything. They threatened me, and even that I wouldn't be able to prove. If the boys had done anything they would've told a completely different story to the label and to the media. And Marcus is way more well-connected in the industry than I am, had he been fired, he would've bad mouthed me to the point I wouldn't ever work again."

He didn't even considered your reasoning. "Come on, rookie...," he huffed. "Those two should be miles away from here and you know it."

"I agree," a deep, velvety, gentle voice came from your side, and you turned with a jump to see Vessel approaching with a new bottle of water. "Everyone else is on a break, angel," the singer pointed out, placing the bottle in your hand before cracking the lid open. "Why aren't you?"

You shrugged, taking a swig and thanking him. "I need to set this rig up before the first band takes the stage," you told him. "Won't have time to do it between breaks."

"Don't overwork yourself," he said, and you wanted to chuckle. A frontman asking a roadie not to overwork herself was beyond outrageous. His hand reached yours, still tentatively, still asking, when he took the cable cutter from you, setting it on the console. "Mind if I have a word with you?"

Vessel looked at Andy, and then back at you. Before Andy could move to give you two some privacy, the singer tugged on your hand, leading you away from the docks. 

"It's okay, Andrew, you can stay," he said calmly. "I'll give her back to you in no time."

"Okay, just don't break her!," Andy joked. "We're already short staffed as it is."

---

Letting yourself be dragged, your mind was too busy being happy about the strong hold Vessel had on your wrist to actually ask yourself what he wanted, until you found yourself crossing the maze of steel scaffolding to a secluded, dark pocket behind the massive subwoofer arrays, shielded from the rest of the arena. The singer leaned to sit down on a road case, and pulled you to stand between his legs, pulling his medical mask down to his chin. You rested your hands around his neck, caressing his hair.

"Have you been talking about what happened last night?", he asked, as if he was just making conversation, leaning his head into your touch. 

"Yeah... Andy noticed something wasn't right last night, so I was explaining what happened," you felt Vessel clench his jaw. "It's fine, Ves."

"It's not fine, Angel," he shook his head. "It makes me sick, that they're still working with us, with you. I should've done something—"

Vessel never talked like that about something that's been troubling him, especially people. He has never seemed so honest either, and it was like watching something fascinating bloom from the cracks of a shell. 

"No, Vessel," you interrupted his spiraling. "Violence would only make everything worse and complicated."

"Still," he insisted, taking your hands away from his neck and gripping your wrists with unusual strength—not enough to hurt, just to evidence his discomfort, another thing about him that was new to you. "They should've at least been fired. I should've been the one to do it. I should've ensured they could never look at any of us again."

Your first instinct was to tell him he shouldn't worry about you, to insist yet again that you could take care of yourself. This time though, it didn't feel right.

"Hey," you placed your hand under his chin. "Look at me. It doesn't matter anymore, because they won't try anything else, ever again. You're all watching me now, and everyone knows it. They know now that they can't touch me without starting a war. You're taking care of me, Vessel. I'm safe."

He let out a long breath, hunching a little over you. His arms slithered around your waist, pulling you closer until you were flushed against his body. 

"I didn't bring you here to talk about them," he said in a whisper, his green eyes scanning your face as if you were a puzzle to be figured out. "They're just a waste of breath."

You nodded, agreeing with him. 

"What did you want to talk about then?," your hands ran up his chest, his neck, his jaw.

Vessel pulled you in for a kiss that didn't start tentative like his previous gestures. It was hungry, urgent in a way that felt like a hundred questions being asked at once. His fingers dug divots in your waist. 

But he pulled away way too soon. 

"The hotel lobby," he started, voice low, inquisitive. "The bus. Since you sat on my knee in front of everyone, I couldn't think about anything else. What... What was that? What did you do that for?"

Oh, bless him. You actually felt it, the stars behind your eyes burning back to life, white hot and blindingly confident. Your hands slithered up the back of his neck and pulled his head towards yours, giving him a kiss before joining your foreheads. 

"I'm done being a secret people can use against you," you said happily, breathing against his mouth. "And I'm done letting you be a secret they can use against me. You guys are my strength, not my weakness. If people wanna look, whether it's Marcus, or Jax, or whatever, let them look."

His fingers clung hard onto your t-shirt before practically hauling you forwards, so you clashed against his chest, and he swallowed you into his kiss. With it, Vessel hoped to reveal a part of him you still hadn't gotten the chance to see, those dark, all consuming strains he was so ashamed of. It wasn't the soft, trembling devotion of the hotel room, nor the quiet melancholy he shared with you on sleepless nights. 

This was his raw, unshielded nature laid bare, romantic and desperately poetic, yes, but also fiercely possessive, demanding, and borderline controlling. His hands went to the sides of your head while he licked inside your mouth, his fingers roughly pulling at the roots of your hair while he grunted into your mouth. Vessel kissed you as if he was trying to shove you down his throat, place you inside his chest, force you to become a part of him. 

When he pulled your face away from his by your hair, he tilted your face upwards to kiss your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. His hand left your hair to find the hem of your shirt, running up inside it to find the soft skin of your stomach, the warmth of your chest. When his fingers dipped in the waistband of your trousers to tug at the button, your brain faintly warned you were in your workplace, but you ignored it until it became white noise, all fuzzy with the way Vessel's teeth dragged on your neck, lightly pulling on the skin. 

He managed to unbutton your pants and started pulling them down to knead on your ass harshly, making you gasp against his lips before he covered your mouth with his. 

"Vessel...," you whimpered, standing on your tippy toes to reach his mouth. 

"Shh, I know, angel," he cooed. "We don't have to go any further if you don't want to. Just let me have this."

But you wanted to. 

His actions slowed to a questioning tone, hands only gliding over the round of your ass, your hips, your thighs. Are you sure? Do you want this?  It was what he tried to ask with his fingers. 

You melted into him, your fist closing around the collar of his shirt, clinging to him in a feeble attempt to climb him. He slowly tried to pull your pants down the rest of the way while kissing you tenderly. 

"We're gonna get caught," you whispered against his jaw after pulling away from the kiss. 

It was merely a warning, but you felt his muscles tense under your hand, a deep rumble rolling inside his chest. Did this arouse him? Was it a thrill for him, the risk of getting caught like that?

"We might," he acknowledged quietly and swallowed hard, eyes glimmering your way with a strange spark. 

Heat pooled inside your panties. Suddenly, you were aroused by it too. You stepped one leg out of the work trousers, letting it loosely wrapped around one of your ankles. 

Vessel scooped you up, strong hands wrapping and pulling on your waist, setting you astride his muscular thigh and driving it upwards against you. The friction was immediate, devastating, and it would be perfect if it was enough. The hands on your waist dropped down to your hips, guiding them up and down, back and forth, encouraging you to ride him. 

"Ride my leg, angel," he whispered against the shell of your ear. "Just this, please," and who were you to deny such polite request. 

Pushing him backwards, Vessel sat back on top of the case, letting go of your hips to brace himself with his hands behind him, slightly leaned back to watch you climb on top of him. His eyes were wide and unfocused when your knees pressed on each side of his thigh, and you straddled it with a flow of successive movements, the friction against your clit immediately back. You looked down and watched his fingers curling inwards, knuckles turning white under the weight of his desire. 

"Vessel...,"you whimpered as his head lolled back, large body trapped underneath you. 

The way your hips swayed on his thigh, the way your wet cunt left a dark trail on the linen of his trousers, made him moan and whimper helplessly. As the rhythm picked up, your mouth fell open with louder moans. His hand reached up to your mouth to shut you up, and your brain short-circuited.

"Shh, angel," he breathed, fingers delicately pinching your lips together. "We don't

want to be interrupted, do we."

You shook your head, gaining momentum while he kissed your temple, hearing him hiss soflty as your knee occasionaly brushed his hardness. 

"Take everything you want," he coaxed, the hand on your mouth sliding down to the column of your neck. "You're so hot, look at you..."

Caving under the weight of his praise, you shuddered and sobbed. 

"I want you inside me," you begged shamelessly. "Please fuck me, Vessel."

Your cheeks grew hot as you thought he would laugh at your desperation, but the only thing he did was groaning painfully. 

Your insides were starting to clench. 

"I can't do this here," he explained, lowering his lips to you collarbone. "Not like this."

"Soon then," you panted. "Promise me you're gonna fuck me soon."

Vessel looked like he was going to cry at any moment. Both of his hands went back to your hips, ripping the control away from you, dictating the rhythm as if he knew your body better than you did. 

"I promise, I promise...," he mumbled like prayer. "I'd do anything, angel, just cum for me now."

His hands shoved you down on his leg and you sobbed. 

"I'm close, Ves, I'm gonna–"

"Do it, cum for me right here," Vessel's lips brushed against yours with a damp and hot breath, his voice shifting from a desperate plea to a dark, authoritative coaching that claimed every single nerve ending in your body. "Hold onto me and don't fight it. Give it to me."

The dam broke. You let out a muffled cry against the side of his neck, inhaling his sandalwood scent as your orgasm bloomed from your core and slithered up your spine, making you shudder and sob, your body seizing in violent shakes as your hips came to a halt on his trembling thigh. Vessel held you tightly through it, his arms smashing you against his torso until all you could feel was his heat with a bruising, triumphant force, still coaching you through the wreck of your pleasure as you cried. 

"Shh, I've got you," he whispered in the darkness. "Breathe for me, you did so well. I'm never letting you go again."