Chapter Text
The thing is, nothing is ever Venti's fault.
He was an hour late for hair and makeup? Traffic. Paparazzi caught him stumbling home drunk? Stalkers! He let slip that he slept with that C-list actress? How was he supposed to know she was Tartaglia's ex?
Look, Venti's innocent. Doesn't he look innocent? Look at this face. This is an extremely innocent face.
"You're fired," Jean says in that tone she uses when she's actually, genuinely pissed at him for something stupid he did.
Venti immediately turns on the puppy eyes. "Aw come on, Jean," he whines. "It was just a harmless little prank-"
"You've gone viral," she spits. "Reputable news outlets are covering this. You're in the New York Times!"
"Hey, free publicity!" Venti throws out jazz hands. Jazz hands make everything better. "That's exciting, huh?"
Jean slams her hands down on her desk. Uh-oh. She's really mad. "You need to take this seriously, Venti. The executives think you're on the verge of a mental breakdown."
"Ugh," Venti groans, throwing his hands up. "It's the twenty-first century. AI is stifling artistic expression, rates of mental illness are at an all-time high, and climate change is about to destroy the planet. We're all on the verge of a mental breakdown!"
Jean closes her eyes. "I love my job," she says to herself. "I love my job, I love my job." She lets out a deep sigh, and her eyes flicker open. "Just… lie low for a little bit, okay? Don't get trashed and start ranting about politics, don't proposition any women older than your grandmother, and don't stick your dick into anything that's not supposed to have a dick in it."
Venti snaps up straight and salutes her. "You got it, ma'am. No more trouble, on my honor as a scout."
Jean points to the door and says, "Get out."
She doesn't need to tell Venti twice. He scampers for the door and slips out of her office, leaving through the back door and not reaching out to hail a cab until he's two streets down.
Lay low. Venti can absolutely do that. No problem. He'll just behave until this whole thing blows over. It can't take that long, right?
***
Venti is still being tailed every time he leaves the house. Lucky for Venti, he has a lot of experience with stalkers. He's pretty damn cute, if he does say so himself, plus it's kind of a given when you're famous.
Venti isn't ridiculously famous. It's not like he's an idol or anything, just a carefree singer-songwriter with more creativity than sense. The only reason the paparazzi are always on him is because he's always doing something worth writing about. It's not his fault his life is so interesting people feel the need to document every detail of it! Who he went home with, who his latest love song is about. In fact, like 90% of what they write about is who Venti is fucking. Venti does plenty of other things worth writing about, but no, it's always who he's having sex with.
To be fair, Venti does have sex with a wide array of people. What? It's inspiration! Venti loves falling in love with someone for a night and then composing a ballad about them, and if he sees them more than once he'll probably write a breakup song too, because everything goes bad eventually. There's just so much material waiting to be discovered! It would be irresponsible of Venti not to go looking for it.
He may or may not be in a little bit of a rut lately. He needs another muse, badly. Jean is demanding he finish this album by the end of the year. How is he supposed to write love songs if he has no one to love on? So he shakes the paparazzi and heads to a local venue that likes to feature up-and-coming bands. They're usually pretty good, too. The staff know who he is, but they never make a big deal about it. They're good people, and not a single one has ever ratted him out to the press. That's hard to find these days.
He gets there before the performance starts so he can limber up. A little alcohol in his system really puts him in a chaotic emotional state, and that's exactly where Venti needs to be right now. Let the inspiration flow like cheap booze! Another one, barkeep!
The band comes onstage, and Venti hangs back at the bar, turning around in his seat. Normally they'd do some type of introduction, warm up the crowd a little. But these guys set up quietly, and the only thing the lead singer says into the mic before they start is, "We're the Anemo Boys." And then the drummer counts them down, and the show is on.
The music is actually pretty good. Doesn't sound like a cover band—these are original songs. They have kind of an emo grunge vibe with lyrics that stand out. The lead singer is fucking talented, he can really belt it out, and it doesn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes. He's pretty short, dark hair streaked with teal and a gorgeous pair of yellow eyes. Venti finds himself drawn in, and he works his way up to the stage to get closer.
The singer's eyes find his during an instrumental bit, and for a moment, they just hang there. Venti gives him a little smirk, and the guy looks completely unimpressed. Venti scoffs, and it might just be his imagination, but he thinks he sees the corners of his mouth turn up a little. With those unique eyes and that strong, powerful voice, Venti decides he has to have him. 80/20 odds this guy is at least bi—he's too fucking pretty not to be. Venti doesn't discriminate, himself. Boy, girl, who cares? He can love anyone for a few hours.
By the time they finish, Venti's back at the bar. He's approached a couple of people, but just to socialize. He's got an eye for that singer, and he won't be deterred. He's still trying to decide whether these guys are the type to stick around or if he'll have to go up there when his target beelines for the bar. He leans up against it and tries to flag down the bartender. Venti bites his lip, drink in hand as he casually strolls over.
"I'll have a rum and coke," the singer says when he finally catches the bartender's attention.
"Gotcha, Xiao," she replies.
"Oh, it's on me," Venti calls out. The bartender glances over at him before shrugging and making the drink. Venti leans in with a smile and says, "Nice set."
Xiao doesn't even look at him. It's like he already knows it's Venti and has decided not to play along. "I'm not interested," he says in a flat tone.
Not a great start, but that's not enough to scare him off. "Just making conversation," Venti says innocently.
Those yellow eyes travel over him with obvious annoyance. "No, you were hitting on me," he insists.
Venti shrugs. "Okay, well, can you blame me?"
"I have a boyfriend." Something about the way he says it strikes Venti as odd. Like he's not telling the whole truth. His hand closes around his glass, and he nods his thanks to the bartender, immediately taking a sip.
"Well," says Venti with a sigh, "at least you're gay. That's an improvement on the guys I usually hit on."
Xiao raises an eyebrow and asks, "You go for a lot of straight guys?"
"Not on purpose," says Venti. "I have a type."
"A type?" Xiao repeats.
"Yeah." Venti turns on his most charming smile. "Short, emo, pretty eyes. Glares at me like he's thinking about how to kill me and hide my body."
The corners of his lips twitch. It's really not a smile, just the thought of one. "Sounds dangerous."
"I flirt with danger every day," Venti returns.
"I can see that."
Venti examines him a little closer. He's pretty good at telling when people are lying, and he's willing to bet there's no boyfriend. If it turns out that there is, well, Venti knows when to back off. But something's telling him not to. Maybe just the way Xiao looks at him. There's something in those eyes, and Venti wants to dive inside them and find out what it is.
"You got any other plans for tonight?" Venti asks him, taking a sip of his drink.
Xiao's eyes narrow. He looks Venti up and down briefly. "I already told you I'm taken."
"Yeah," Venti agrees with more confidence that he feels, "but we both know you were lying."
The singer holds his gaze for several seconds. Venti has a moment of doubt. But then Xiao rolls his eyes and says into his glass, "Alright, so he's not my boyfriend." He takes another drink. "I don't really do boyfriends."
Venti shrugs again. "Me either."
Another moment passes where they only assess each other. Eventually Xiao asks, "What are your plans for tonight?"
"Oh, I don't know," says Venti, swirling the liquid around his glass. "Probably… have a couple more drinks, then go home alone and write a shitty love song about a guy I fell for when his eyes met mine in a crowded room."
A genuine smile passes over Xiao's lips then, and it puts stars into Venti's eyes. It's a small smile, granted. A subtle gesture, not a beaming grin or anything. Venti instantly falls for it all the same.
"That does sound like a shitty love song," says Xiao. He tilts his head. "What if you weren't alone?"
Venti smiles back and says, "I'll still write the song. I'll call it 'Sad Corny Fuck.'"
Xiao nods. "Accurate."
Venti's eyes darken as he looks him over. He wants. Xiao's pretty and mysterious and a little bit mean. Lyrics are swirling in Venti's brain already. "Excuse me!" he calls to the bartender. "Can I close out?"
"I haven't even finished my drink," Xiao points out.
"I'll make you another one." Venti downs his, then looks at Xiao expectantly.
Xiao's smile widens ever-so-slightly. He knocks back the rest of his drink.
***
On the way back to his place, Venti tries to engage Xiao in conversation, but he doesn't really seem interested. As long as he's coming home with him it doesn't really matter all that much, he supposes. They lapse into silence. Venti breathes in the cool night air and hums. He still feels a little light and floaty, and it's pleasant. He thinks of what it will be like to breathe in sync with Xiao, how it'll feel when their bodies intertwine. The warmth of his skin, the way that cock will fill him up.
"You are a top, right?" Venti asks him.
Xiao shrugs. "Depends."
"On what?"
"Well, that's completely irrelevant to you."
Venti tilts his head and says, "Uhh… It's kind of very relevant, actually." Xiao says nothing, simply looking over at him with a raised eyebrow. "Okay, okay, I get it. I realize I give off mad bottom energy, but some people are fucking slow, okay?" He puts a little skip in his step. "Are you kinky, Xiao?"
"Stop talking, or I'm turning around right now."
He mimes zipping his lips, trotting along ahead of Xiao down the sidewalk.
Eventually they reach Venti's building. Venti shuffles him in through a side door and swipes his key card for the private elevator. He pushes the button for the top floor. "Penthouse, huh?" Xiao remarks, leaning up against the wall.
"Mhmm." He grins. "Impressed?"
"Nope."
Venti pouts, then his lips lift into a smirk. "You will be by the time I'm done with you."
"Doubt it," Xiao replies.
With a scoff, Venti says, "Well, then why'd you come home with me?"
Xiao rolls his eyes. "You're cute, and I'm horny."
"Valid." The elevator dings, and Venti bows and gestures him inside. Xiao huffs and steps out. "What are we drinking, Xiao?" he asks.
"Don't care."
"Is there anything you do care about?" Venti asks him. "Or are we too emo for that?"
"Way too emo."
"Cool, cool. I'll get you a bourbon. I feel like you're the type of guy who'd appreciate a good bourbon."
"Sure." Xiao follows him into the kitchen. He takes one look at it and comments, "That sure is a fancy stove for a guy that doesn't cook."
"How do you know I don't cook?"
Xiao raises an eyebrow. "You live off Starbucks and overpriced artisanal sandwiches."
Venti sputters. "Is that the vibe I give off?" He scoffs as he opens the cupboard. "I am not that stuffy, okay? My favorite meal is mac and cheese with hot dogs in it. It's the one thing I can cook."
Xiao nods and says, "Okay. You do realize that's way worse than what I said, right?"
"It's delicious!" he declares.
He pulls out the good stuff—the kind of stuff he doesn't get out for just anybody. Now that he knows Xiao is hard to impress, it makes him really, really want to impress him. Not because he needs to. Just to see the look on his face when he realizes he's wrong.
He gets out his nice glasses and fancy ice cubes and pours them both a glass. Xiao looks down at the drink, then back up at him. Venti gestures for him to taste, watching his expression closely. He grins when he catches that little look of surprise.
And then Xiao says, "What the hell is this shit?"
Venti lets out a loud noise of protest. "What? You don't like it?"
"It tastes expensive. How much did you pay for this bottle?"
"Fifty grand," says Venti airily.
Xiao gives him the most unimpressed look he's ever seen and says, "You're a fucking tool."
"Oh, come on. It's worth it, right?"
"No. You spent fifty thousand dollars on a consumable item. That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard in my life."
"Okay, but it's a very pretty bottle, though," Venti insists.
Xiao sighs and shakes his head. He takes another sip.
Venti pouts again. "There's got to be something I can do to make you like me."
"Impossible."
"I could put on a maid outfit," Venti offers. "Are you into maids?"
"No."
"What about bunnies?"
"No."
Venti slams his hand down on the counter. "Who doesn't like bunnies?" he demands.
"I'm not drunk enough for this conversation."
Venti lets out a long whine. "Okay, fine. We're doing shots, then."
Two shots later, Xiao starts crowding Venti against the counter.
"Oh, hi," Venti purrs, linking his arms around Xiao's neck. "So you do like me enough for this, huh?"
"No," Xiao replies, dipping his head to press warm, open-mouthed kisses against Venti's neck. Venti gasps.
"You sure?" he says breathily. "You kinda seem like you like me, Xiao."
"Nope," Xiao insists, biting down.
Venti lets out a whimper as Xiao sucks a bruise over his skin. "Mm. You like me a little. Just admit it."
Xiao lifts his head and puts both hands on either side of Venti's face. "Shut up," he says firmly, and proceeds to kiss Venti within an inch of his life.
His mouth is warm and wet, and it devours Venti's. Honestly, he doesn't even care if Xiao likes him. Not when he kisses him like this. Venti pulls him closer, trying to shift his legs. Xiao immediately presses his thigh between them, and Venti moans as he rucks up into it. The friction makes him dizzy. That might be the alcohol, actually. Oh, who cares?
Venti presses hard against his lips, kissing him fiercely. He licks absolutely everything from Xiao's tongue to the roof of his mouth, tasting whatever he can. There's still a hint of bourbon in here somewhere, and Venti chases those sweet notes of caramel and vanilla. Xiao's hands slide under Venti's ass and squeeze, and Venti lets out a little yelp against his mouth.
"You're going to be noisy be in bed too, huh?" Xiao says against his lips, squeezing harder.
"Xiao," Venti whines, grinding against his thigh.
"Where's the bedroom?"
Xiao lets him shuffle out of his embrace and take his hand, pulling him through the kitchen. He links their fingers together and tugs him into the doorway of the master bedroom. That's as far as he gets before Xiao suddenly scoops him up into his arms. Venti makes a surprised sound, instantly wrapping his legs around Xiao's waist to keep his balance. Then Xiao's mouth is on his again.
Venti almost can't believe how horny he is right now. Sure, okay, Venti's always a little horny. But there's something about the way Xiao handles him that just makes Venti absolutely desperate for it. He can't stand the clothes between them. As soon as Xiao drops him on the bed, Venti's tugging them off. Xiao does the same.
"Lube," says Xiao.
"Yes," Venti replies. He reaches over for the nightstand, pulling it out. Xiao practically rips it out of his hand. Venti's just dying with the anticipation as Xiao squeezes it out and coats his fingers. Those few seconds feel like an eternity.
When Xiao's first finger enters him, Venti keens. He doesn't even warm him up, just shoves it straight in and starts pumping.
"Xiao, Xiao-" he cries out, clenching around the digit.
Xiao's other hand reaches up to cover Venti's mouth. "Stop fucking talking," he says.
Venti lets out a muffled noise against his hand. His back arches against the mattress as he takes in sharp puffs of air through his nose. Xiao finger-fucks him even faster, and Venti can't help the sounds coming out of him. It's rough and hungry and just how Venti needs it. Venti moans and cries, tears springing to his eyes when Xiao adds another finger. This is going to be over so quickly, which is a shame, but Venti really can't wait another second.
He rips Xiao's hand off his face and says, "Fuck me."
Xiao releases him, slipping his fingers out to lube himself up. The second he presses inside of Venti, Venti screams. Xiao's hand returns, this time around his throat. Venti gasps in air as he takes Xiao's cock all the way in. Xiao's grip tightens as he begins to thrust. The moment he loosens Venti is desperately sucking in air, hoarsely moaning out his name. Xiao fills him up so well.
God, how long has it been since Venti's been fucked properly? Look, getting off is getting off, but this is… Fuck. For all those shitty love songs he has in the bank, Venti doesn't even have the words right now. It's fine. They'll come to him later.
He grabs Xiao's hands and throws them out to either side. Xiao gets the message, pinning down Venti's wrists as he fucks into him hard. It's not long before Venti is coming, squeezing Xiao's dick as he rides out his orgasm. Xiao starts going even harder, panting with effort.
"Yes, yes, fuck," Venti chants. "Come inside me, Xiao, please!"
Xiao finally groans as he spills into Venti's ass. Venti loves the sound of it. He's going to be playing that on repeat in all his dirty fantasies. Xiao slows, eventually pulling out and lying beside Venti on the bed. They both take a moment to catch their breath.
"You're good at that," Venti says faintly, still breathing heavy.
Xiao scoffs. He turns on his side, running his fingers over Venti's hipbone. "I can do better."
"Oh, yeah?" Venti asks him.
"Yeah. Give me a minute."
"A minute?" Venti laughs. "You going for a record?"
"Maybe."
He lets out another laugh. Twenty minutes later they go again, and it is better. They stay in bed all night. They fall asleep once or twice and just keep waking the other back up. It's the best night Venti's had in a long, long time.
"Who the fuck are you?" Venti whines at around five A.M., just a couple hours before the sun comes up.
Xiao chuckles. "I think I do like you. Just the tiniest bit."
Venti's too exhausted to celebrate that victory. The next time he wakes up the sun has risen in the sky, and Xiao is gone. It's not like Venti was hoping for breakfast. He already got a lot more out of the night than he was expecting. But… he is a little disappointed to wake up alone.
He takes a long shower and gets dressed, then pulls out his guitar. He strums chords until he finds a melody, and the words follow after that. He finishes the song within a few hours. He can't stop picturing Xiao—his eyes, his hair, that sexy glare of his. Who are you, Xiao? he wonders. But he knows he'll never really have the answer to that question. He only had Xiao's attention for a few hours, but damn did it feel good. He can't stop hearing Xiao's laugh in back of his mind. He thinks he might've fallen in love with it just a little.
Venti is kind of a sad, corny fuck, isn't he?