Twelve
Kaj’s head was pounding, and his mouth was dry when he woke up for the umpteenth time in the past seven hours. The bunk bed felt suffocating as memories of the previous night came rushing back.
He groaned and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. He refused to dwell on Val’s words or the confusing mix of emotions they’d stirred. There was nothing between him and Noah—nothing real, anyway. It was just an obsession born from their complicated history and the forced proximity on tour. Nothing more.
Switching on his phone’s flashlight in the pitch-black sleeping zone, Kaj climbed down from his bunk, careful not to wake the others. But then he saw Noah dead asleep on the bed across from his. The vocalist had never been a fan of confined spaces. That was probably why he’d half-opened the curtain that helped give them some privacy in this already tight area of the bus. Entranced by the peace he radiated, Kaj’s eyes roamed over his face—disheveled hair, perfect brows, slightly parted full lips…
Kaj tore his gaze away, scowling at his own weakness.
There were more important things to think about than this man. Like the huge show they had tonight in Philadelphia with a meet-and-greet included, for example.
Walking into the front lounge, Kaj went directly to the kitchenette. It smelled like coffee, but the pot was empty. Either he was going completely nuts or his brain was too needy for its caffeine dose and was imagining things now. Judging by his track record, Kaj leaned toward the latter.
After making sure enough water was in the coffee maker reservoir, Kaj added ground coffee to the filter and turned on the machine. He stood there as it hummed, blankly staring out the window while the urban landscape unfolded before him. Skyscrapers pierced the blue sky, glass facades reflecting the morning sunlight. It was a few minutes past noon, and the streets were buzzing with commuters probably going out for lunch, a sea of people flowing through the concrete jungle.
Shaking his head to pull himself out of that mental fog, Kaj grabbed the sweats and hoodie he’d left lying in the dining booth the day before and put them on.
Once the pot was full, he poured himself a steaming mug of coffee. The warm, nutty, lightly caramelized, bitter smell seeped into him as he cradled it close. Kaj plopped down on the bench and sighed. With silence and one of his favorite things wrapping around him like a comforting blanket, life was perfect… until the door that separated the front lounge and the sleeping area slid open.
His heartbeat quickened as Noah appeared in the doorway. Strands of hair were stuck up at odd angles and there were also faint imprints of pillow creases on one cheek. And yet, he was the most stunning creature walking on Earth.
“Morning,” Noah mumbled hoarsely.
“Hey,” Kaj managed, grimacing at how stiff his voice sounded.
Without saying another word, Noah poured himself a cup of coffee, folded an arm over his chest, and leaned his ass against the counter. His dark, heavy-lidded eyes fixed on Kaj’s with an intensity that made him squirm. However, the drummer couldn’t look away. It was like Noah was a sticky spider web and he was the stupid insect that flew right into it, getting trapped.
A moment of silence stretched between them, filled only with the low hum of the bus engine and the incoherent noise inside Kaj’s head as they veered down a street. He was hypnotized… and fucking doomed .
Stumbling into the lounge with his pajamas all twisted, Aksel broke the tension lingering in the air. “Coffee,” he grumbled, making grabby hands at the pot.
Kaj chuckled, relieved that someone else was in the room. “Rough night?”
“Try sleeping with Xander snoring right below you. I swear, it’s like sharing a bunk with a sick rhino.”
As if summoned, the bassist appeared in the doorway. “Morning, sunshine,” he said, ruffling Aksel’s hair as he passed.
Aksel narrowed his eyes at him. “You fucking cave bear.”
Since the entire crew didn’t fit in one bus, they’d rented three and split up between them. Theirs had eight condo-style bunks. Hilde, Aksel, Noah, and Kaj claimed the top ones, while the heavy sleepers—Xander, Niels, Lars, and Haral (the other two musicians’ assistants)—who didn’t mind the rumble of the road being a little closer, took the bottom ones. That arrangement left the bassist sleeping under Aksel.
“Ever heard of earplugs?” Xander retorted.
“I was too tired last night to think about that.”
“Then, that’s a you problem.”
“You are the problem. Seriously, how is it that you don’t choke and die snoring like that?”
“You’re so exaggerating.” Xander rolled his eyes while pouring himself some coffee.
“Thank fuck we’re sleeping at a hotel tonight.”
As they continued their morning banter that happened nearly every damn day when they slept on a bus, Niels walked out of the front lounge, followed by their assistants.
That explains the coffee smell from before , Kaj thought when he saw they were all dressed and wide awake. I’m not completely insane —yet.
“Alright,” the manager called out. “Time to get your shit together. We have a long day ahead of us.”
There was a flurry of activity as everyone scrambled to get ready. After peeing and quickly washing his face, Kaj changed his sweats for a pair of worn jeans and put on his favorite leather jacket, the familiar weight settling on his shoulders like armor. A minute later, the bus pulled up to the back of a massive arena that would be filled with thousands of screaming fans later that evening.
As they disembarked, Kaj breathed in the crisp spring air, letting it clear his head. Inside, however, it was organized chaos as Artificial Suicide’s team, other bands’ crews, and the venue staff rushed back and forth, making the day pass in a blur of preparations for the concert.
Under different circumstances, Kaj would be having fun. As exhausting as it was, touring was one of his favorite parts of working in the industry. Getting to see so many incredible places while doing what he loved the most, life on the road with this family of waywards, different cultures, languages, and hearts, all connected in the sacred, oneiric place that music created. A place suspended in time. A place where geographical boundaries and societal labels blurred. But with Noah being part of it all, what used to be an escape had become a constant emotional struggle. Wanting him only added to the deluge of pent-up frustrations.
After he’d adjusted his cymbals, Kaj started marking a medium tempo, allowing Giulia, his tech, to check on resonance. Doing this also gave Kaj time to get accustomed to the acoustics—how the kick drums reacted to their surroundings, how it all sounded in his in-ear monitors, and all that. Xander and Aksel were checking with their respective techs that their bass, guitar, and amps were working as they should, too. Meanwhile, Noah was in the middle of the stage with Emma, the merch manager… dancing. Well, if that move where you grabbed your ankle, put a hand behind your back, and then flicked both limbs back and forth could be called that.
Kaj was trying to avoid looking at him, yet his eyes kept flicking between his kit and the vocalist, annoying the shit out of him.
This familiar routine, equivalent to meditation for him, should have been relaxing. It wasn’t the first time Noah goofed around and gave them a ridiculous spectacle. Not to mention they all looked like they hadn’t showered or washed their clothes in ages—messy hair, crinkled hoodies, and three-day beards, or otherwise shaggy beards. Still, watching that man today was slowly frying Kaj’s nerves.
“Noah! Can you please focus? You’re ready to go.” Klaus asked, lifting his gaze from his laptop screen where he was making the usual arrangements. “What are you even doing?” Klaus tried to be serious, but he couldn’t hold the laughter back.
“Funky chicken!” Noah said as he continued doing… whatever that was.
Val chuckled, recording the entire scene on his phone, shaking his head like there’s no cure for what he has . It wasn’t like he was particularly interested in Noah being an uncoordinated dumbass, but they were doing a tour vlog to show their daily life, and Val loved capturing these moments, too. Some fans only cared about the music. Others lived for the fake persona bands created when they were up on the stage. However, there was a third group who thoroughly enjoyed what happened behind the scenes as they got to see the real them. It was great material to post, or so Val and their marketing manager said.
“Stop it!” Klaus cackled. “We need to be done in thirty minutes, or Oliver will kick our asses.”
“Fine, fine.” Noah grinned, his stance changing immediately as he grabbed the mic.
Kaj clicked his drumsticks, and soon the notes of a song from their last album flooded every particle in the air.
It was one of those in-your-face kinds of tracks, not only for the lyrics that talked about the innate yet irrational trait all humans have to judge and attack what is foreign to us, but because of the groovy, punishing death metal that abruptly changed, flowing into a slower tempo as the bass licks turned into a thick undertone and the guitar played on the offbeat of the rhythm.
Noah was gently bobbing his head, letting the melody take over. Slightly gritty, long, laid-back notes vibrated in his vocal cords when he started singing, only to transform into deep growls that rippled into some mind-blowing belting at the end, sending chills down Kaj’s spine.
With each passing second and every song they played, tension coiled tighter around his guts. Kaj didn’t know what had him so on edge today, but he hated how his body was reacting to everything Noah did. Why couldn’t he shake him out of his system?
You’re fixating because he’s objectively hot, and it’s been too long since you felt the skin of another human being against yours.
Yes, that’s it. It’s been six months and eleven days—who’s counting—since the last time I had sex. I’m just fucking needy.
Once they were done with soundcheck, the musicians headed backstage. They took showers and changed into some more decent outfits to receive those who had bought VIP tickets.
The band had signed a ludicrous amount of goodies before the hall doors opened for the meet-and-greet. It was something they always did; prepare a cool bag with different items. In this case, it’d have been two posters, a laminate VIP pass, a black sports wristband with their logo on it, and a flag. Kaj’s hand was starting to hurt after signing a bunch of CDs and other stuff people had also brought, but he didn’t mind.
They only shared regular human conversation, took photos with their fans, and hung out for a bit, but it was always fun listening to them ramble about the last Artificial Suicide album, wild anecdotes where their music had been the soundtrack, watching videos of them covering their songs, or simply seeing them gush about meeting them. Though, as crude as it sounded, the one thing that always touched Kaj deeply was when someone said their music had saved them. Because while that wasn’t completely true—people who want to fight, save themselves—it swelled his heart every damn time.
Maybe it didn’t have the same impact on others, but he’d been there, lost in the depths of despair, wanting to erase himself from this planet more times than he was willing to admit out loud. So, a total stranger thanking them for being that light at the end of the tunnel, having that person here smiling and fucking alive, was everything.
“Hi! Nice to meet you. Is there a specific page you’d like us to sign?” Aksel asked as he took the notebook the next girl was handing him.
“Not really, the first blank one would do.” She grinned from ear to ear.
“Okay… There you go.”
“Thank you so much.”
“No, thank you for coming.”
As she moved forward, the other three musicians signed the notebook, too, sharing some light chatter.
Fifteen minutes later, as the line came to an end, Kaj noticed a young man clutching a large folder to his chest. He seemed a little restless, excited, and nervous, all at the same time. When he finally reached the table, he carefully opened the portfolio and pulled out two A3-sized sheets.
“I d-drew this for you, guys,” he said, his voice shaky and strained. “And this one, if you don’t mind, I’d love to have it signed?”
“Wow!” Aksel breathed out. “Guys, look at these!”
Xander, Kaj, and Noah approached the guitarist and leaned in to examine the artwork.
The one the guy was keeping for himself was an illustration of the fallen angel from their last album cover. It was levitating right above the ground with a scythe in its hand and an apocalyptic red landscape behind, all rendered in dark comic style. The attention to detail was incredible, from the texture on the wings to the shadows on the tunic and the sinister spark in its eyes. The other, with the same style, was some sort of flower. It was painted in a vibrant red color that contrasted beautifully with what looked like a devastated dystopian black-and-white world.
“Holy shit!” Xander said, eyes widening as a huge grin appeared on his face. “This is amazing!”
“T-thank you.” The guy shyly smiled. “I’ve worked on them for weeks.”
“You’ve got some serious skills,” Noah praised. “You sure you want us to have this?”
“Yes.”
“What is it, though?” Aksel asked.
“It’s a spider lily or ‘death flower’, my own interpretation of your last album. Some cultures claim that it grows in hell and its bright red petals serve to guide the lost souls toward reincarnation.”
“That’s… impressive.” Kaj was speechless. This weird flower and its meaning—the possibility of a second chance even after being through hell—spoke to him louder than a thousand tongues.
“Have you considered doing this professionally?” Xander asked, removing the lid from his silver marker.
“I’ve gotten a lot of shit for studying to get a fine arts degree. Like, that won’t get me anywhere, but it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” He blushed.
“People with no passion or dreams always say that kind of shit.” Kaj offered a knowing smile as he added his signature to the fallen angel drawing. “Don’t let them discourage you.”
“Exactly.” Aksel nodded, taking the illustration from Kaj. “Not gonna lie, it won’t be easy, but it’ll be so worth it. It all depends on how big your dreams truly are.”
“If we listened to what people say, and none of us dedicated our lives to the arts”—Noah handed the painting to its owner once he was done signing it, too—“the world would be such a sad, ugly place.”
The guy’s eyes brimmed with tears as his smile grew. “Thank you. It means so much coming from you.”
“Okay… It’s photo time!” Aksel exclaimed as he walked toward the thick black curtain the staff had prepared as a photocall, his arm around Artist Boy’s shoulders.
The four musicians took a picture with him and his sister, holding the two masterpieces to show them off, of course.
Time flew by as they posed with everyone else in the room, making silly faces and throwing up rock horns. Before they knew it, dinner was over and they were backstage, warming up.
Xander got up from the couch and stretched his back. His mouth moved, but Kaj couldn’t hear a thing over the music blasting through his headphones.
“What was that?”
“I was saying, I’m gonna go watch Dreadful for a bit.”
“Okay.” Kaj gave him a quick nod, wondering when and where Aksel had gone.
“Be right back.”
“Sure.”
As the bassist disappeared through the door, Kaj realized he was alone with Noah. The vocalist was standing across from him, opening and closing his mouth, pouting and moving his jaw to the sides, making weird noises as he went through his vocalization exercises. He’d already done an entire body stretching routine, plus all the breathing, puffing, and panting warm-ups that engaged all the respiratory muscles and always made Kaj hyperaware of his presence.
In an attempt to ignore him, Kaj put on his headphones again and tried to focus on shadow-drumming the song he was listening to, but he couldn’t help stealing glances at Noah. Kaj’s skin prickled, too conscious of every small movement he made.
“What?”
Kaj didn’t hear him, but he could perfectly read the word on Noah’s lips.
“Nothing.”
Noah’s eyes narrowed as he pulled out his earphones, motioning for Kaj to do the same. “Do not nothing me. You’re staring.”
“I was blankly staring past you,” Kaj countered. “Happens a lot when I’m concentrating.”
“Bullshit,” Noah barked. “You might think I’m stupid and haven’t noticed how uneasy you are around me since yesterday.”
Kaj’s heart hammered in his chest. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do,” Noah said. “You want me. I know you do, no matter how hard you try to deny it.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Kaj scoffed.
Noah closed the distance between them, looking down at Kaj when the tips of their boots touched. “Then what was that fucking loud jerking-off session in the bathroom while I was in the next room? You knew I could hear you. You wanted me to hear you.”
“Of course you’d think that was about you,” Kaj said, raising an eyebrow, trying to look unfazed and bored. “So full of yourself.”
“I know it was about me.” Noah smirked. “Because of the way you stare at me when you think I’m not looking, the way you avoid being alone with me, and the way your pupils dilated when I smeared my cum on your lips.”
Kaj’s dick twitched at the thought. The warm, musky saltiness of it was so good he just wanted another taste. “Whatever sick ideas you’re cooking up in your head, they’re just that—ideas, fucking fantasies.”
“A fantasy?” Noah chuckled, but there was no humor in the sound, more like exasperation. “Is that what you tell yourself to make it easier?”
Kaj stood up, invading Noah’s personal space. “You don’t know shit about me or what I want.”
“I do.” Noah’s eyes flashed dangerously. “You’re just too much of a coward to admit it.”
“You’re delusional,” Kaj hissed, clenching his fists at his sides.
Noah bit his bottom lip as he stared at Kaj’s mouth. “You’re trembling.”
“Because I want to punch you in the face.”
Noah tilted his head to the side as he looked into Kaj’s eyes. “What are you so afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything. I’m just being realistic. You and I? That would be a fucking disaster.”
“The only disaster here is you being too stubborn to give in.”
They stood frozen in silence, locked in a battle of wills. Kaj wanted to look away, to break free, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. And he definitely couldn’t stop his cock from pressing against the fly of his cargo pants. Why the fuck did fighting with this man turn him on so much?
For a moment there, as they glared at each other, Kaj thought Noah might try to kiss him, or maybe kick him. He wasn’t sure which option terrified him more. But then the door burst open, and they both took a step back as Xander strolled in.
“Dreadful’s about to finish up. We should start…” He trailed off, looking between them with narrowed eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Kaj bit out.
“Ten minutes, guys,” Ivar said as he barged into the room, looking like he’d been running a marathon. “Where the hell is Aksel?”
“He’s probably in one of the dressing rooms banging a chick from the venue’s staff,” Xander told the manager, but his eyes remained on the other two.
“Before the concert?” Ivar rolled his eyes. “Go get ready, I’ll find him.”
As the tour manager walked away, Kaj inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of Xander’s questioning gaze piercing through his skull. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to look back at him.
“I’m gonna get going,” Kaj mumbled, squeezing past Noah and Xander with a mix of determination and hesitation.
The echo of his boots reverberated in his ears, somehow louder than the corridor’s hustle as he headed toward the side of the stage, where the techs were waiting for them.
The overwhelming desire for Noah was consuming him, threatening to annihilate everything around him. Kaj needed to put an end to it, somehow. But right now, he had to get out there and put on a fucking show.