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Kayn enjoyed chaos, enjoyed the sickening tilt of a world that moved just a little too fast. Leaned into the noise, to the ruckus, relished the sensation of riding the wave of destruction that quaked the world. Typically, it was managed by everyday conflicts, bickering with Ezreal, playing pranks with Aphelios, and seeing what kind of imaginary creature he could convince Sett into believing that day. Other days were more unhinged, where he’d seek out clubs or bars or whatever disagreement dissolving into a fight that he could get involved in. Tagging buildings, running from the cops – and sometimes Yone – they were all food for his insatiable appetite for action and excitement.
Sometimes, it was even loud enough to overpower the chaos inside his own head.
Nobody said welcoming a demon into his psyche was a good idea, and on days like today, he could feel Rhaast in there, ricocheting around for attention, control, power, anything that would give him. Sleepless nights where Rhaast bitched and moaned about getting more time out, getting to play more with the rest of the band, early mornings where he would narrate Kayn’s every movement in an earsplitting singsong, evidently intent on bothering him into giving into whatever idea Rhaast spat out today. On day three of one of these cycles of sleepless nights and a relentless narrator, Kayn was starting to lose his patience – and his sanity.
His alarm was set for 8:23, just late enough to inspire that panicked rush for practice every day. Most nights were spent up late, gaming or arguing with Ezreal just to rile the man up before bed so the extra sleep was nice. And so what if the pink that dusted Ezreal’s cheeks after their bickering sessions drove Kayn a little crazy? It was worth the late wakeup, and the disapproving stare from Yone as he rushed into practice.
Today, however, Kayn was up hours before the rest of the house, knocking around the kitchen quietly while he tried to make something appetizing for breakfast.
“Bagel.”
“I don’t want a bagel – shut up for once, please. You were up all night yelling about wanting to see the northern lights.” Kayn grumbled to himself, sliding a piece of toast into the toaster.
“I just think they would be neat.”
“Right, and it’s not because you’re trying to piss me off.”
“There’s some of that too.”
Kayn pressed his palm to his eye, digging the eyepatch into the delicate skin of his eyelid. The pain felt good, breaking him from the ache of Rhaast’s petulance. The migraine had been mounting for a few days now, a combination of sleepless nights and the demon picking apart his every move building something horrendous and pounding in his skull. With any luck, he’d be able to power through, make it to practice later and disappear shortly after, as he was often prone to do, to get some shut-eye.
Ignoring the pop of the toaster, Kayn yanked the fridge open and selected one of his few remaining energy drinks; this would have to supplement for the two hours of sleep he managed the night before. Closing the fridge with his hip, he opened the can with one hand and focused on the trek back to his room.
Of course, in his tunneled vision, he missed the creep of Aphelios padding into the room. Startling himself from his daze, he grunted a hello to the man before attempting to slink away again. When the tap came at his shoulder, Kayn resisted the urge to groan at yet another roadblock, and turned to watch Aphelios sign.
“Shit, Phel, slow down, please.” Kayn grumbled, willing his vision to settle on the man’s hands and face. Aphelios rolled his eyes and started his question over again, ending with his eyebrows raised questioningly.
‘You okay? You look like shit.’
Kayn snorted, ignore the dull ache it sent through his head. “Gee, thanks, Phel. Like you have any room to talk. Did you sleep at all last night?”
Deflect and defend. The whole band knew of Aphelios’ odd hours, kept awake by chords that seem to just appear to him. It wouldn’t be the first time he spent the entire night crossed legged on the floor, bathed in the glow of the moon, as he pulled melodies from his instruments. Kayn was willing to bet money on the probability of his floor being covered in opened notebooks with half-written songs and sleep-deprived ideas in that cramped, neat handwriting of his.
Aphelios rolled his eyes. ‘Can’t sleep when I’ve got an idea.’
“Yeah, let’s just say it that I had an idea too.” Kayn’s head felt plugged, like Aphelios was a thousand miles away; Like his own voice was a thousand miles away. “I’ll see you later, yeah? Gonna go get some shut eye.”
Without waiting for a response, Kayn shouldered past the man to return to his room. With his back turned, he didn’t have the chance to see Aphelios cast a concerned look at him.
“It’s not nice to lie to your friends, Kayn.” Rhaast tutted, his presence curling around Kayn’s spine and making his fingers twitch against the can. “I think Phel back there was really worried about you.”
Kayn grunted, slamming the door to his room open without a care for who would still be sleeping at this hour. In the next room, he could hear Ezreal knock against the wall in protest. The energy drink was deposited unceremoniously on the bedside table for later.
“I’d feel a lot better if you weren’t so damn loud.” Kayn hissed, ignoring Ezreal. “Always in my shit – don’t you have somewhere else to be? Can’t you go bother someone else.”
It was Rhaast’s turn to snort, sending another shock wave through Kayn’s head. He clutched at his forehead uselessly, staggering against his desk to avoid losing his balance. “You wanted this, Kayn, wanted me with you forever. Make a deal with a demon and pay the price.”
“Yeah. Yeah I know the rules. Just didn’t realize you’d be so damn loud.” Kayn grumbled back, finding the smallest reprieve in the spark of chaos that ignited between them. But just like that, the moment was over, and Kayn felt the pounding return. Maybe a few more minutes in bed wouldn’t hurt.
Kayn wasn’t exactly sure when he fell asleep, or when he turned off the alarm that was supposed to wake him up, but the sharp rap of knuckles against his door was enough to drag him back to consciousness. Each knock felt like someone was knocking a clawed hammer against his skull, and Kayn fought the wave of nausea that came with sitting up in bed.
“Practice started a half hour ago, Shieda, get your butt out here.” K’Sante’s voice rumbled through the closed door. Kayn was grateful that he was tasked with fetching the tardy rocker, and not Ezreal or Yone. “Get up, sleeping beauty.”
“Comin’.” Kayn grumbled, pressing his palms to his eyes again. The room had been pitch black, thanks to some blackout curtains gifted by Aphelios a few months back, and Kayn dreaded stepping out into the light. Still, he wasn’t one to miss practice over a little headache, so on went his loose pants and crop top that hugged his chest in all the best ways. A few fingers through his hair forced it to lay somewhat back from his face. Finally came the shoes, and three aspirin chased by a chug of the energy drink, plus a handful in his pocket for practice.
“About time,” K’Sante teased gently, as Kayn slid the door open with a wince. The overhead light was in the hallway was blinding, and he already felt the migraine build again. “Come on, Yone’s going to kill you if you don’t get down there now.”
Kayn allowed himself to be guided to the practice room set up in the basement, grabbing his water bottle from its place on the cubby and taking a sip before joining the rest of the team. To his surprise, it was cold, ice freshly deposited and water from yesterday’s practice switched out. Aphelios avoided his gaze when Kayn glanced at him. He ducked his head in appreciation for the composer, before taking his place in the practice lineup.
Despite the dull grind in his skull that occasionally ramped up to shooting and blinding pain behind his eyes, practice went decently well. Their choreographer didn’t have much in the way of new steps to learn, and the practice was spent working on Sett’s solo. Kayn was left alone to practice footwork and bicker with Rhaast in his head.
“Come on, you’d feel better. Just a minute out. You need me for the verse anyway.” Rhaast coiled in his spine again, making Kayn’s fingers twitch again.
“We’re not doing your verse today.” Kayn grumbled back, grateful for the attention on Sett while Rhaast pouted. The band knew he was there, but the relationship the pair had was complicated, and seeing anyone talk to himself is cause for concern typically. Especially with how Rhaast had been acting lately. “When you behave, maybe we can work something out.”
“We will, at some point. Then you have to let me out.” Something burned in Rhaast’s tone, suggesting his boredom wasn’t limited to ruining Kayn’s day. If he were to be let out, it may end up with Kayn waking up a hundred miles away with no recollection of his day and missing a shirt – again.
“Shut up,” Kayn hissed, groaning at the shock of pain that came as a response from Rhaast.
“’scuse me?”
Great.
Kayn looked up from his water bottle, meeting Ezreal’s eyes through the yellow-tinted glasses. “Nothin’.”
“I didn’t even say anything, and you tell me to shut up?” Ezreal’s look was incredulous, baiting. This is usually where they’d start in on some kind of bickering that wound up with Kayn pinning the popstar somewhere until Yone yelled at them to break it up. “Just coming to let you know we’ve picked Mediterranean for lunch.”
Kayn ignored the bait, reaching for his phone while Ezreal talked. “Great. Get me some lentil soup.”
“Lentil soup? Really? What happened to lentils being ‘rabbit food’?” Ezreal looked up from his own phone, brows cinching together. The bait was tossed down again, with a part of Ezreal hoping that Kayn would take him up on it. The two hadn’t talked all day, and while Ezreal would never admit it, he missed their arguments; maybe he missed more than that, but he wouldn’t let his mind wander to their wrestling matches. Not when Kayn was looking paler than usual and lacked that mirthful tone that Ezreal found himself missing.
“Well it is. But I want some.” Kayn muttered shortly, staring down at Ezreal with an unreadable expression. “Is that a problem?”
“Don’t get mad at him because you’re crabby.” Rhaast teased, and Kayn barely resisted the urge to yell at both of them.
“No, no problem.” Ezreal mumbled, tapping Kayn’s order into his phone. “Anything else?”
“If I say no, will you leave me alone?” Kayn remarked harshly, regretting it immediately. Ezreal’s eyes widened slightly before he disappeared to ask Yone the same question.
“Now you’ve done it. You’ve hurt the feelings of your favorite popstar prince.”
“For the love of everything unholy, shut the hell up.” Kayn snapped, louder this time. K’Sante and Yone glanced over, expressions concerned. Practice had all but wrapped up, and Kayn opted to take whatever punishment Yone would cast down on him for leaving early, in exchange for getting away from their worried looks. He bit back another remark, knowing it would only lead to more conversation, and his head felt ready to explode.
The walk to his room felt even farther than that from the kitchen this morning. Each step sent shockwaves through his body, matching the deep roar of the war drums beating in his head. His fingers twitched again as Rhaast tested his patience, demanding to be let out again.
Kayn slammed through the door again, grateful for the fact that everyone was in the basement still and couldn’t follow him up here. One thumb flipped the thumb lock, ensuring he wouldn’t be disturbed again. The room was dark, curtains still drawn. Part of him knew he should change from his sweaty clothes, but another part of him did not care and that part that won out in the end. Flopping facedown on his bed, he felt Rhaast quiet down for the first time all. Maybe the demon had tired himself out, with all of his cage rattling.
With the screen on his phone dimmed, with as many filters and low-contrast modes he could manage on there, Kayn scrolled until exhaustion weighed his eyelids and the phone battery began to blink red. Sleep claimed him, and he was grateful for the moment of peace.
Two hours passed, Kayn’s sleep fitful and uncomfortable. Pain would startle him awake, sleep would drag him back under, and the cycle repeated himself. He knew, if he could only fall asleep and stay asleep, that it would help to alleviate the migraine and he’d feel better. If only.
“K?” A gentle knock came at the door, trying to stir the man. After no answer, Ezreal knocked again, louder this time. “I know you’re pissed at me, for some reason, but lunch’s here. Come out and eat something.”
Ezreal couldn’t help the note of concern that swelled under his voice, after the second knocked yielded no response. “C’mon, man, open up.”
The final knock roused Kayn, dragging him back into consciousness for good. The shooting pains had subsided some, leaving a dull ache behind. Part of him considered responding, stumbling over to thumb the lock open and let in the walking ball of sunshine that was Ezreal. His stomach growled – it had been lunch yesterday since he last ate, and he was starting to feel it.
“Open the door, Kayn.”
Rhaast clearly was angling for something, the teasing lilt to his voice immediately making Kayn suspicious. The demon had been pinning to make something happen between the two for weeks by now, complaining to just shut up and kiss him when Kayn inevitably had Ezreal pinned beneath him for another stupid comment about his crop top. It had to be another plot to mash the two together, and Kayn wasn’t sure if he could filter out his response to either Ez or Rhaast if he left the bed. So, he simply grumbled and rolled over, chasing the dredges of sleep again.
Ezreal’s face twisted as Kayn didn’t respond, again. Message received, he thought, shifting the plastic bag to another hand as he made his way back downstairs. Yone was waiting for him, a questioning expression darkening his brow. Ezreal discretely shook his head, and headed to the kitchen to put Kayn’s food in the fridge. Lentil soup, spicy garlic pita bread, and hummus, with Ezreal including some of Kayn’s favorites in the order, in case they’d help his mood.
Ezreal sat down, trying to ignore the empty seat and overall quietness at the table. Sett and Aphelios were communicating about a fight later, something about Sett wanting to get out a little, see some bloodshed. Aphelios was agreeing with him, begrudgingly, on the condition that they leave if it gets too loud. K’Sante was on the phone with someone in the other room as his shawarma got cold. Yone was sat at the head of the table, scrolling quietly but intensely through his phone, taking slow and methodical bites as he did so. None of them appeared to miss the loud presence at the table as much as Ezreal did, though he had a feeling that Yone was hiding more than he let on.
Ezreal sighed and unwrapped his lunch, stomach growling at the smell. A few bites in, and Ezreal couldn’t shake the chill of his thigh, without Kayn pressed his spread thighs against his hip from the seat next to him. I need the space, he argued, for my massive balls. Ezreal would never admit it, but he enjoyed the solidness of Kayn beside him and never really protested. But now he was gone, and Ez couldn’t deny the feeling that something was wrong.
Sighing, Ezreal pulled out his phone.
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] hey where r u – message sent at 12:51pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] been locked away all day – message sent at 12:51pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] foods going 2 get cold – message sent at 12:52pm
Shoving his phone in his pocket, Ezreal returned to the meal feeling slightly better. Maybe Kayn would respond to his phone. He returned to his meal, laughing at a joke Aphelios signed over Sett’s shoulder as he tried to put Kayn out of his mind.
As Ezreal’s footsteps faded, Kayn had allowed unconsciousness to claim him again. It was helping, minorly, to sooth the dull pulse to his skull. Rhaast had settled down more, coiling to the dark shadow lurking in the back of his mind where he belonged. His face ached, pain moving down into his jaw and base of his skull as a constant, dull reminder of just how terrible he felt. The painkillers sometimes helped, but it was typically a long game of wait-and-see until the pain finally subsided.
After the second – or was it the third? – nap of the day, Kayn finally rolled over to check his phone. He barely glimpsed the ‘8 new messages’ notification before the low battery notification flashed across his screen. It was the only warning before the screen died and Kayn resisted the urge to curse his luck. Instead, he let his phone fall uselessly by his side.
His stomach growled.
Of course, he could go downstairs and actually talk to his bandmates. But that would require going out into the blinding lights of the kitchen and the noise that came with any of them being in the same room together. Sett never really learned how to talk below a soft shout, after all. He had already cast K’Sante off, same with Ezreal. In all likelihood, they wouldn’t bother him again – just like he demanded. Kayn huffed at his own stupidity.
“Really fucked this one, huh?” He mumbled out loud, grateful for the silence that responded.
With a groan, Kayn dragged himself out of bed. He tossed his phone on the charger, leaving it there as he grabbed another handful of painkillers. Counting out four, the rest were tossed into back into the bottle as he pressed the button to turn on his computer. Above his head, the gleeful eyes of Ezreal looked down on him. Kayn ignored the pang in the pit of his stomach.
“Can’t run from the truth forever, Kayn.”
Kayn rolled his eyes. Just when he was feeling better. “Thought you had finally fucked off.”
“I did, until you started making heart eyes at a poster.”
“Shut up.”
And for once, he did. Rhaast coiled and settled, quiet for a rare moment. Kayn felt relieved and returned to his computer. One pair of UV glasses, dark mode, and low-light filters made it possible for him to scroll through social media. PARANOIA had been doing well, and people were still buzzing after the music video that had dropped a few weeks prior. Worrying about public appeal was more of Ezreal and Yone’s deals, but Kayn enjoyed seeing how people conspired about the band. Relationships, feelings, new songs, trailers, with some hitting a lot closer to home than others. Kayn scoffed at one post that him and Yone could be dating, as if he would want to be with that tight-wound prick.
A few more minutes of scrolling until his stomach began to twist with hunger again. Kayn thought briefly about going downstairs again, picking up the soup that Ezreal had tried to drop off earlier, and taking it back up to his room. But there would still be people down there, playing games, cleaning up, arguing – hell, he wouldn’t surprised if Yone still left the dishes for him. They’d want to talk to him about whatever the hell they have going on. Sett, especially, had a bad habit of launching into a speech about nothing, that Kayn always had a hard time escaping. Anyone else, he’d simply push past, but Sett had become an expert at trapping him in and rambling. Sometimes it was endearing, even if Kayn pretended like he didn’t care, but right now it would simply drive him mad. He’d rather be hungry and in the dark, than deal with that.
Kayn sighed and stood up, moving to flip on the lamp in the corner. The sudden light sent shooting pains through his skull, but they faded quickly enough, leaving behind a dull thudding pain behind. This was another part of the migraines that nobody talked about – the boredom. Usual hobbies like gaming, writing, or causing general chaos seemed like much more effort than they were worth, and usually would result in more shooting pains. He had been sleeping for the better part of the day, so he had this restless, exhausted energy to do something. Talking to the voices in his head just made the pain come back.
Kayn picked his phone back up, seeing the screen light up with yet another message. A brief scroll through the day’s texts revealed similar messages from his band. Aphelios checking in after the morning’s conversation, anger from Yone for being late to practice followed by a few texts asking about his status, K’Sante checking in, Sett asking about what happened after practice, and a few messages from Ezreal. Kayn groaned, knowing that there would be hell to pay after the way he acted today, but that would be a later him problem.
Kayn tapped on Ezreal’s name, which was followed by a series of emojis that the man had programed in when he gave Kayn his contact.
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] hey where r u – message sent at 12:51pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] been locked away all day – message sent at 12:51pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] foods going 2 get cold – message sent at 12:52pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] srsly whats up with u – message sent at 3:36pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] i mean fine, stay away from us. knew u never liked us /j – message sent at 4:08pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] dude…. startin to get worried – message sent at 4:47pm
There was a pang in his stomach as he read the message. They were worried about him? They weren’t just angry with him for the childish way he had been acting all day? Not that he didn’t deserve it – he had been a dick to all of them during the rare moments he had emerged from his room. But still, worry was not the sentiment he expected from anyone. Usually it was anger at Kayn, for locking himself away with Rhaast to write and develop their music, or frustration that he missed practice. Worry, that was new.
He glanced at the most recent message, sent just after his phone died.
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] Are you okay? – message sent at 6:07pm
Kayn could see the little cinch in Ezreal’s eyebrows as he tapped out the message, tongue poking out of the corner of his pouty mouth. Part of him relished the fact that he was the reason behind the expression, the fact that Ezreal had been thinking about him throughout the day. The wave of quiet possession blotted out the pain for a second, as Kayn sat on his bed to formulate a response. Everyone else went ignored – he’d pay the price later, for all of it.
[SMS: Popstar Prince👑🛹🕶️🍒] aww, missed me? – message sent 6:42pm
The bubbles that indicated Ezreal was responding popped up almost immediately. They stopped, and started, once or twice, as he tapped out his message. Kayn found himself thinking about that pout again, brows cinched together again.
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] glad to see youre not dead up there – message sent at 6:42pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] whats gotten into you? – message sent at 6:43pm
Kayn snorted, pain shooting through his head in response.
[SMS: Popstar Prince👑🛹🕶️🍒] maybe i just feel like being an ass – message sent at 6:43pm
[SMS: Popstar Prince👑🛹🕶️🍒] i am part demon after all – message sent at 6:43pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] right, well phel told me abt what happened this morning – message sent at 6:45pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] wanted me to tell you he ate your toast too, btw – message sent at 6:45pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] u seem sick, r u sick – message sent at 6:46pm
[SMS: Popstar Prince👑🛹🕶️🍒] good for him – message sent at 6:46pm
[SMS: Popstar Prince👑🛹🕶️🍒] no im not sick – message sent at 6:46pm
[SMS: Popstar Prince👑🛹🕶️🍒] just under the weather ig – message sent at 6:46pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] right. – message sent at 6:47pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] and its not the man upstairs, is it – message sent at 6:47pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] heard u talking to him – message sent at 6:47pm
[SMS: Popstar Prince👑🛹🕶️🍒] no its not him – message sent at 6:52pm
[SMS: Popstar Prince👑🛹🕶️🍒] what r u, worried about me? don’t be cringe – message sent at 6:52pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] i mean… yeah – message sent at 6:57pm
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] ur my friend and youve been gone all day. – message sent at 6:57pm
This was a different pang, something separate from the hunger and arousal. The warm feeling that comes with having a true home somewhere burned low and hot in his soul. Kayn tried to ignore it when another message from Ezreal popped up.
[SMS: Demonboy 😈] do u need anything? could bring up the lunch you didnt eat – message sent at 7:04pm
Kayn considered his phone for a second. He didn’t want to go anywhere near the kitchen with a ten-foot pole, but if Ezreal would deliver the food to him, he could finally eat. That might help to alleviate some of the pain in his skull. But that would also mean inviting someone into the silence of his room. Kayn’s thumbs danced over the screen for a second, willing the words to come to him.
He glanced at the flat, warm energy drink still on his nightstand.
[SMS: Popstar Prince👑🛹🕶️🍒] bring some caffeine too. – message sent at 7:10pm
The dots popped up again, before disappearing for good. The little heart notification popped up next to Kayn’s last message, stating that Ezreal acknowledged the message. He tossed the phone to the side, still connect to its charging cord, and lay down perpendicular on his bed until the inevitable triple knock on the door that announced Ezreal’s arrival.
It didn’t take long before the three raps cracked through the dark silence. As expected, his skull pulsed in response, pulling him from the dazed stupor he had lulled himself into when he laid down. Kayn pulled himself out of bed, grateful for the fact that the dizziness had subsided and he could see straight when he stood up. He closed his eyes, bracing for the light of the hallway as he flicked the thumb lock open, and opened his door.
The lights had been turned off. Ezreal stood in the dim hallway, food already removed from the plastic bag and in his hand, waiting for Kayn. There was a small grin of victory that splashed across Ezreal’s face for a second at the relieved look on Kayn’s face. He was right. Kayn wrinkled his nose at him and glanced down toward the food.
“That’s not lentil soup.” He muttered, plainly. Ezreal rolled his eyes.
“The soup’s in the cup. There’s pita bread and hummus in this one.” Ezreal shook the larger box. “Thought you could go for more than rabbit food.”
If Kayn was feeling better, he would have classified the emotion that shot through him into something stupid and to be ignored. But in this condition, where he couldn’t process it as quickly or as normally as he usually would, he settled for the warm feeling. Ezreal remembered his order. And got it for him.
Kayn choked out a scoff, trying to keep up his reputation. “Whatever. Thanks.”
He reached for the food, and Ezreal danced back a step. Kayn rolled his eyes, irritation making his head hurt again. Why was just getting some food so damn hard around here? A part of him wanted to give up, he’d eat tomorrow; it’s not like it was the first time that he was too sick to eat all day.
Ezreal levelled a look at him, brows cinched and lips pouty. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been avoiding us all day, and you said you’re under the weather.”
Ah, so that’s what he was angling at. Kayn knew opening that door was a mistake, and now he has to give a full medical history for Ezreal before he’s allowed to eat.
“Fuck this. Forget it. Not even hungry anymore.” The growl in his stomach opposed that claim pretty quickly, but Kayn ignored it as he went go to back into his room. He’d eat tomorrow.
“Wait, Kayn-“ Ezreal caught his wrist, stopping the man who too ill to shove him back like he normally would. “Sorry that I asked, I’m just worried about you man. Is it something I can help with?”
Kayn sighed, pausing in the door. “Just gimme my food and leave me alone, Ez. There’s nothing you can do. It’s just a headache.”
Kayn had confirmed his suspicions. Ezreal nodded gently, handing Kayn the to-go boxes. Before Kayn had the opportunity to push the door shut behind him, though, Ezreal stuck his foot into the frame, stopping him from locking it again.
“What are you doing.” Emotion sparked in Kayn’s voice, annoyance and anger and the very little patience he had drying up sparking in his tone. Rhaast stirred in his mind again at the potential for a disagreement, and Kayn found himself silently cursing everyone again.
“Just, trust me.” Ezreal kept his voice soft, devoid of the excitement and emotion that came with his usual conversation. It was the first time he had been in Kayn’s room proper, and he was resisting the urge to look around, to pry. It was tidy, from what he could tell out of his periphery, and there was a telltale pose on a poster above the glowing desktop, looking over the bed. Even in the low gloom of the room, he knew exactly what it looked like. Ezreal made a mental note to ask later if Kayn wanted it signed.
Kayn groaned. “Why can’t you all just leave me alone. It’s a fuckin’ headache, I’m not dying or anything. Get out of my room.”
“Right.” Ezreal rolled his eyes. “And it has nothing to do with the man upstairs, or anything?”
Rhaast coiled in Kayn’s spine. Kayn scowled. “Even more of a reason to just leave me alone to deal with it. He’s my demon, not yours.”
“I’m not yours, Kayn, you belong to me.” Rhaast hissed. Kayn winced and tilted his head to the side, trying to alleviate the sudden pressure. Ezreal paused, giving Kayn time to work out the inner dialogue in his head.
“Tell you what. Eat your food, and then I’ll show you a trick.” Ezreal winked, infuriatingly, face full of that self-assured pride and confidence that came with everything he did. Kayn found himself staring at his lips pursued in half a smile and cursed the soft spot he had for the popstar. Ezreal made himself comfortable on Kayn’s desk, sitting just below the poster with his likeness. “I’ll hang here.”
Arguing felt herculean, and Kayn finally gave in with a noncommittal grunt. His stomach was growling, anyway, and he was reminded again of his last meal almost 36 hours ago. Sitting on his bed, he tore into the flatbread and hummus, followed by the soup. From across the dim room, Ezreal smirked at getting his way.
While Kayn ate, Ezreal allowed himself to glance around discretely. He knew that Kayn would throw him out if he made a big deal of anything, so his reactions to the posters that filled the walls and the overall tidiness of the room was limited to a slight quirk of his eyebrows. Ezreal glanced up at himself, lurking over the computer monitor, with piercing yellow eyes staring directly at the bed pushed into one corner of the room. If he were looking, he would see Kayn bristle slightly, feeling exposed now that his quiet space had been violated. Ezreal, to his credit, didn’t say anything about the candy-sweet image, just moved onto the next thing.
It was interesting. Ezreal carried his past with him, life filled with mementos of his previous label and his one-hit-wonder song. Signed pictures of himself, plushies from his merch drops, he even wore the same heart-shaped sunglasses that he had when You’re My Museum dropped. The manufactured personality worked for him, even if it didn’t hold up during the album drop. Nowaways, he wasn’t sure who he was without it, which sometimes made the transition to HEARTSTEEL that much more difficult. Yone and K’Sante had invited him to celebrate himself in the music, shattering the box that his previous label had forced him into. And Aphelios had tapped into that some, crafting lyrics and instrumentals to highlight Ezreal’s personality and looks, and embrace that side of him. Still, Ezreal carried pictures of all of his old team with him, as both reminders and fuel for the comeback kid he was trying to achieve.
Kayn, on the other hand, had none of that. The decorations that filled his walls were of his only, bands and movies that he had interest in, clothes that matched his style alone. He didn’t have any pictures of anyone from his previous band, no goofy merch pinned to a jacket or a bag. The room seemed almost void of human connection, with the only keepsake of anyone else that Kayn knew personally being the poster of Ezreal. There was something there, that poked at the back of Ezreal’s mind, a hot feeling that flushed the tips of his ears bright red. Pride, maybe? Or something more? Either way, he was grateful for the blackout curtains.
Kayn ate quickly, with his mouth open on occasion. Though, Ezreal had a feeling that was more to bother him than out of habit; Kayn wasn’t entirely feral, for the most part. A small rush of pride coursed through Ezreal when Kayn finished the hummus and flatbread, and left some soup sitting at the bottom of the cup – he had gotten it right. Kayn tossed the to-go boxes back into the plastic bag, throwing it into a nearby trashcan to be dealt with later. Much to Kayn’s resigned excitement, the food had helped the pain subside. Now it remained mostly in his jaw and neck, the final dredges of a fighting agony that had stolen his day away from him.
“Okay, what?” Kayn prompted, breaking the quiet silence between the two. Ezreal shook himself from the warm feeling that came with having a picture of himself pinned up on Kayn’s wall – if only he could be the one pinned against Kayn’s wall.
“Lay down.” Ezreal hopped off the desk, moving toward the bed.
“Listen, if this is some way to get my pants off, I’m not in the mood.” Kayn snorted, casting up another wall to separate himself from Ezreal. Ezreal just rolled his eyes and pushed Kayn’s shoulder backwards, until he was laying on his back.
“Sorry, I don’t fuck sick dogs.” Ezreal rose to the bait, and Kayn resisted the shiver that coursed down his spine. Rhaast stirred, but there was no pain associated with it this time. “Don’t want your germs.”
Kayn opened his mouth to retort, but Ezreal moved before he could. He settled on Kayn’s bed, legs crossed, right next to Kayn’s head.
“What are you doing.” Kayn groaned, sick of playing this back-and-forth game. Something prickled in him, beyond the game that him and Ezreal played together. His space had been invaded, and his body was already feeling ill.
“Don’t you trust me?” Ezreal murmured, looking down at the rapper. Kayn paused, single eye rolling open to glance up at him. Trust wasn’t something he gave out easily, and it had been a long time since he had actually trusted someone to be this close without the threat of violence. Rhaast, maybe, was the closest one these days, and that alone was a terrifying thought.
“No.” Came the short reply.
Ezreal huffed out a sigh. “Just this once. It’s okay. You can trust me, Kayn.”
Against his better judgement, Kayn closed his eye and gave a small nod. “Fine. Do whatever it is you’re going to do. But I’ll kick your ass if it sucks, got it?”
Ezreal hummed in response as his fingers wrapped around Kayn’s head and brought it into his lap. Kayn tensed, feeling vulnerable, but allowed Ezreal to continue.
Starting at the crown of his head, Ezreal’s delicate thumbs rubbed equal circles into his skull. Kayn let out a small, surprised gasp at the feeling of delicious coldness massaging the knots in his head. A part of him relaxed into Ezreal, giving silent permission to continue. Ezreal’s fingers rubbed equal and opposite against the top of Kayn’s head, providing enough pressure to release some of the tension there, without squeezing and making it worse. The massage continued, with Ezreal’s dull nails scratching lines down the part of his hair, digging in around his ears and base of his skull, and finally down into the neck.
Kayn’s tension melted away, much of the remaining pain going with it. Rhaast purred happily in the back of his mind, suggesting he enjoyed the massage as well. Ezreal didn’t speak, preferring to give the man the silence to enjoy himself. For all the walls that Kayn threw up, for the 154 degrees of separation that he forced between himself and others, he seemed to enjoy the closeness just like anyone else.
As Ezreal worked his way down to Kayn’s jaw and neck, a soft, kitten moan slipped from Kayn. His eye flew open, tension immediately shooting back into his body at the ammo he just offered Ezreal. Ezreal just smiled softly down at him, letting the moan go. “It feels nice, doesn’t it? One of my old team members used to get migraines. This used to help him too.”
Kayn relaxed even as that possessive feeling danced along his periphery again. He was the only one that Ezreal should touch like this. He was the only one who should be afforded the honor of being taken apart piece by piece by the popstar, held to the light in a time of weakness and supported. Kayn soothed himself with the knowledge that Ezreal was in HEARTSTEEL now, he had cast his lot in with the newest boyband for better or for worse.
Ezreal massaged circles into where his jaw met his ear, and another moan slipped from him. With the tension gone, and Kayn all but putty in Ezreal’s lap, he didn’t acknowledge this one. Neither did Ezreal, though he continued to massage, harder this time, in the same area.
Ezreal smells nice. Kayn wasn’t sure where the notion came from, but it was the truth. Usually when in close quarters, they smelled of sweat or soap or whatever Sett was cooking in the kitchen that day. But here? Fresh off the shower he took after practice? It was bright, wild, green, the kind of scents Kayn would smell in a field somewhere, maybe fresh off a good rain. He took solace in that, burying himself until the only thing that remained were the delicate fingers and the smell of green wrapped around him.
Ezreal wasn’t sure when Kayn dropped off to sleep. This one was content, painless, deep compared to the pained and fuzzy powernaps Kayn had forced himself into earlier. Kayn’s face softened, jaw relaxing to an open mouth. The tension in his forehead unknotted, relaxing his eyebrows down over his eyes. Ezreal massaged gently around Kayn’s eyepatch, careful not to disturb it from its place. It was tighter than normal, knotted elastic digging lines into Kayn’s jaw and temples. He mourned the marks cut into his skin by the elastic, but figured that it would be best to leave the eyepatch alone.
He was trapped, Kayn’s head heavy in his lap, and unwilling to disturb the rocker’s rest. Ezreal sighed and picked up his phone, tapping out a message to Yone.
[SMS: Mom] with kayn now. everythings good. – message sent at 9:05pm
The bubbles popped up, indicating that Yone received his message immediately. If Ezreal were to wager a guess, Yone was still working from his place on the couch while Sett and K’Sante played games. Aphelios would be watching, while taking notes on whatever ideas filled his brain. There would be two empty places on the couch that night, right beside each other.
[SMS: Ezreal.] Good news. How is he? – Message sent at 9:05pm.
[SMS: Mom] a little under the weather. but he’s sleeping now -Message sent at 9:07pm
[SMS: Ezreal.] Good to hear. I was getting worried about him. – Message sent at 9:07pm
[SMS: Ezreal.] We’ll plan to see you tomorrow, then? – Message sent at 9:08pm
Ezreal blushed, setting the phone to the side. Kayn stirred, rolling to his side in Ezreal’s lap. The popstar took the opportunity to slip down into a laying position, pulling the back of Kayn’s head against his chest and propped up on his arm. Ezreal continued his affection, fingers tangling in magenta hair, nails digging dully at his scalp. Kayn’s body remained tense until eventually his spine relaxed back into Ezreal’s chest in a deep, dreamless sleep. Ezreal wasn’t far behind him.
Kayn dragged himself to consciousness, with the sun attempting to peak through the curtains. The pain was all but gone, last vestiges rubbed away in the early morning light. He moved to sit up, only then recognizing the heat at his back and the hair tickling his neck – someone was in bed with him.
Not entirely a foreign feeling, but certainly not here, at the HEARTSTEEL house, and certainly not after the raging migraine that had ruined him for the past day and a half. His clothes were still on and Kayn felt confusion flush through him. The confusion evolved into concern as he whirled around to see Ezreal, mouth opened in a soft snore and arm tossed over Kayn’s hip. Did something happen last night, and he couldn’t remember? Did him and Ezreal finally do it, and he forgot? Or did Rhaast – Kayn cut himself off there. If he lost control, he may as well just leave the band now. Rhaast wasn’t a secret, but he had sworn to Yone that he had him under control –
“I can hear you thinking.” Ezreal’s voice was rough, filled with sleep. Kayn untangled himself, ignore the way his skin caught fire beneath Ezreal’s fingers and the flush along the tops of his ears. Kayn sat up, feet landing on the floor beside the bed.
“What happened.” Kayn grumbled, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Ezreal was in his bed and he can’t even remember what got them together. The last thing that came to mind was Ezreal bringing him dinner, and then the rest gets fuzzy. Something about Kayn trusting Ezreal, and snippets of their conversation, of Ezreal looking hot beneath his own poster, snippets pulling themselves somewhere out of his consciousness, and failing to piece together anything that makes sense.
“Relax, nothing happened.” Ezreal murmured, watching the curve of Kayn’s spine and feeling a pang of envy. Kayn felt a similar pang, stomach twisting at the idea that nothing happened and wanting it to happen all the same. Ezreal’s fingers came up to dully scratch at Kayn’s back, attempting to sooth the man to resting some more. “You weren’t feeling well, so I tried to help.”
“You fucked him.” Rhaast teased from his head. There was no pain associated with it, suggesting that Kayn had finally kicked the migraine for good. “You fucked him and you don’t even remember it.”
There were equal parts of Kayn that were disappointed and relieved. Of all the ways to get Ezreal in his bed, being sick and needing him to help him off to sleep was not the way he wanted to do so. At the same time, Kayn’s walls had been cut through by a green-haired twink and nothing catastrophic happened. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing.
“Tell me what happened.” Kayn rubbed his face in his hands, willing himself to remember. It was fuzzy, patchy, with snippets of conversation from the day previous. The energy drink he had grabbed from the kitchen lay forgotten on the desk, and the smell of garlic flatbread filled the air. Pieces flashed back with him, Aphelios, K’Sante, Ezreal – Ezreal in his room, in his bed. “It’s fuzzy.”
Ezreal pulled himself upright, continuing to scratch dully at Kayn’s back. “Apparently you came down early yesterday, ran into Aphelios in the kitchen. Then you were late for practice, and K’Sante had to come get you. When you left early, Yone and I got worried. Then you didn’t answer your door for lunch.” Ezreal continued to recap of the day previous, explaining how Kayn had texted him, the food delivery, and how he had helped Kayn alleviate some of the pain.
“The scratching, how did you do that.” Kayn’s voice was indescribable – envious, partially, incredulous, confused, in awe of how Ezreal had taken him to pieces with nothing more than gentle touch. It had been better than a lot of the sex that he’s ever had, body in pieces for the man, and willingly so. Part of him wondered if Ezreal would do that again for him.
“Used to play with a guy who got migraines. Watched his girlfriend do this for him a couple times, then tried it once when we were on the road together.” Ezreal explained simply. “Are you okay? Sorry if I, y’know, pushed too hard. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Kayn turned to look at him, green eye piercing as he struggled to find the words. “I, I don’t – no, Ez, you didn’t push too hard. That was amazing. Thank you.” Sincerity filled his tone, a rare occurrence with Kayn.
Ezreal pulled himself to a sitting position next to Kayn, meeting the gaze awkwardly. It was Kayn’s turn to pull him apart, to expose him to the light. “S’nothing, really.”
Something in Kayn’s eyes turned hungry, desperate, the restless energy rearing its head back. He had Ezreal, here, alone in his room, with nobody prying or demanding to know where he was. The pouting look on his lips were back, and Kayn wanted nothing more than to drink it all in, to take the pout and the care and the sweetness and to fill his veins with it, to consume it until he felt like Ezreal was suitably compensated for all that he had done. Something in those yellow eyes encouraged him, as the lyricist leaned in closer, taking up the comfortable space between them until they were nose to nose, eyes searching each other. Ezreal didn’t appear to be pulling away, or attempting to slow this runaway train at all.
“You’re incredible, you know that, right?” Kayn breathed, letting the words hang in the air between them. Rhaast hummed in satisfied wanting, pleased by their progression.
“I know.” Ezreal responded, cocky and arrogant and Kayn wanted nothing more to pull that lopsided grin from his lips.
Reason stopped them, lingering, for a few seconds, drawing out the moment to one, perilous draw. Once they crossed this bridge, it would be impossible to uncross it; this was more than a fling, more than a quick fuck in the bathroom of some club. Kayn had feelings, so many feelings, without a neatly labelled box to shove them in to protect his persona. Ezreal too, struggled with finding who he was after being told so for so long – but here? Now? He knew exactly what he wanted. And so he took it.
In a twist, Ezreal moved first, pushing his lips against Kayn’s in a gentle but powerful kiss. Kayn responded, all power and movement, pulling Ezreal closer by the hips and shoving their lips together. The kiss continued, teeth knocking into each other as Ezreal put up a decent fight for dominance before Kayn swept him onto his lap and took it from him.
They broke, chests heaving, and eyes wild. Forehead met forehead, and they grinned at each other breathlessly. In Kayn’s head, Rhaast cheered, and he felt the demon’s excitement bloom heat in his own chest.
“Been waiting to do that for a while.” Kayn murmured as he explored the complexities of Ezreal’s eyes. He had known they were yellow, but missed the flecks of green and gold that surrounded the iris. What else was Ezreal hiding from him.
“Me too.” Ezreal responded, equally low and breathless. “Who knew I only had to scratch your head to get there.”
Kayn snorted, and the moment ended. “I hate you. If you tell anyone you pet me like a dog and I liked it, I’ll kill you.”
“I know. But to be fair, I think Sett also likes to be pet like a dog.”
Kayn groaned, falling backward onto the bed. Ezreal sat on his hips above him, expression playful.
“Y’know, you’ll have to go downstairs at some point. Heard Yone left the entire day’s dishes for you, and then some, since you left practice early and you were late.” Ezreal teased, watching Kayn cover his face with another groan.
“I wish the headache had killed me. Be better than that. I’ll deal with it later, but for now,” Kayn wrapped his arms around Ezreal’s narrow waist, dragging him to the bed beside him to kiss him again. “For now I have you trapped in here with me.”
Ezreal giggled, allowing Kayn to move him as he pleased. “Oh no. Whatever will I do.”
Downstairs, Yone checked his phone again and sighed. While he knew the possible outcomes of Ezreal staying up there, he wasn’t prepared for them being late to the 11am band meeting. Sett and Aphelios had just stumbled out of Sett’s room anyway, also late, and K’Sante was finishing his chores for the day. The clatter of dishes indicated the dishwasher was now empty, after Yone had spent the evening finishing the day’s dishes.
Part of him wanted to call it off at this point, with everyone focused on their own things, and give a day for themselves. After all, the band had been working so hard lately, maybe they’ve earned it.
Yone tapped out the message of a day off, sending it to the groupchat before closing his phone. K’Sante sauntered up behind him, softly despite his size, and wrapped both arms around Yone’s shoulders.
“Bossman’s letting us play hooky.” He rumbled into Yone’s ear, Yone’s chest shaking with the timber of it. Yone’s expression did not change, eyes still planted on his phone and the emails that filled it. The others could have the day off – there was too much work to be done for him to take the day off as well. At least, if K’Sante didn’t get his way, of course, which was nigh impossible. That man could break down Yone’s carefully built routines like they were nothing, putty in his hands.
“I still have work to do. You’re welcome to take the day off if you like.” Yone was tightlipped, knowing that K’Sante would jump on any opportunity to sweep him away. And god, if Yone didn’t yearn to be swept away from his responsibilities. “I will see you tonight, in that case.”
K’Sante laughed, and Yone cursed himself for taking such solace in the rumble of his laugh in his ear. “Like I would leave without you. C’mon,” He plucked Yone’s phone from his fingers, ignoring the impassioned gasp as the man ungracefully struggled for its return. K’Sante rose, stashing the device in his pocket, and turned to grab their coats. “You’ll get it back after lunch. Let’s go.”
Yone sighed and rose to his feet, accepting his wool coat with a begrudging nod. “Fine. Just lunch.”
It was not, in fact, just lunch.