Notes: I haven't done a chapter fic in a long time (and I, uh, never finished the ones I started) but I am hoping to keep up with this one. Reviews are pretty good motivation for that (hint hint.) You can also find this story on AO3.
Plus I obviously don't own Teen Wolf and I feel stupid for even having to say that.
Stiles hadn't really wanted to go to the concert -dark brooding music wasn't really his thing seeing as he wasn't some reclusive vampire wannabe lamenting his existence- but seeing as his own band usually played at the same bar on Friday's where it was being held, it wasn't like he had much else to do. Plus, Allison wanted to go which meant Scott wanted to go and Stiles didn't much fancy spending his Friday night alone. And as much as he hated to admit it, outside of Allison and his band (which was only Scott and Lydia) he didn't actually have any other friends. Not anyone who he was comfortable spending an evening out with at least. Danny was still avoiding him since his insistent questioning about how attractive he thought Stiles was.
In all fairness, he figured he had the right to know. He had never considered himself strictly straight and he needed to know how he looked to the members of his own sex and Danny was his only gay friend. It wasn't like he was getting anywhere with the ladies and he wanted to keep his options open. Danny, unfortunately, had not been very sympathetic.
So here he was, sitting at a sticky table when he should have been on stage performing, or at least be at home playing Call of Duty with Scott. Their band, Charismatic Criminal, had been playing Friday night gigs at Chapman's for the past two months (ever since Scott had joined him and Lydia by turning 18 and therefore granting them access through the door even though they weren't allowed anywhere near the booze) for a small amount of pay and a crowd that usually didn't get above twenty people. So when Moon Fever wanted to play a show on what Stiles had come to think of as his stage, he couldn't really blame the owner for booting them off.
The crowd they had drawn was certainly more impressive and Stiles still didn't know how Allison had managed to snag them tickets and a booth. The place was filling up quick and the band wasn't even scheduled to come on for another half hour. He'd groaned quite a bit when Allison had dragged him and Scott away from their video game almost an hour early, but now he was grateful for it.
"I didn't realize there would be so many people," Scott said over the dull roar of conversation that had filled the small building.
"I told you they're from a few towns over, people love local bands that make it big," Allison said with a playful eye roll that was filled with more endearment for her boyfriend than exasperation. She looped her arm in Scott's, squeezing his hand affectionately. Stiles had to admit, the two of them were beyond adorable together, always holding hands and looking at each other with dopey puppy dog eyes. It was absolutely sickening, of course, but adorable. Stiles was happy for his best friend. Scott deserved someone that loved him so much and Stiles just hoped that his own Allison might make an appearance sometime soon.
"This is their first tour," the pretty brunette continued, "And I've heard that it's been going really well."
"If it's going so well then why are they playing here" Stiles asked, making a vague gesture around the bar and screwing up his face in confusion. "It's not exactly an A-class venue."
"We play here," Scott said defensively and Stiles bestowed upon him one of his grand eye rolls. The kind of eye roll that involved the use of his whole head and usually made his father put his head in his hand and sigh loudly. It was unspoken sarcasm at its best.
"I think that proves the point," said Lydia, sliding into the seat next to Stiles who moved over eagerly to make room for the stunning redhead who has been at the center of all his fantasies since they were eight. Lydia had been his first crush, was his only crush really, and the day she had agreed to join their band had been the happiest day of his life. She was a wicked bass player.
Scott furrowed his brow in a way that made him look more like a puppy than he already did, which was a feat that never ceased to amaze his best friend. "Am I the only one who thinks we're any good?"
Stiles picked up a fry from his plate and waved it in the other boy's direction. "No, we're good Scottie, we just need a better place to play."
"Well," piped up Allison, who was now rubbing soothing circles into Scott's palm, "The reason Moon Fever is performing here is because this is where they got their start. Who knows, maybe you guys will be on tour this summer and on your way to stardom, too."
Scott pepped up at that and Stiles couldn't help but grin at their optimism. It was nice to know that their endless gigs at the bar might not be completely useless. Lydia didn't look convinced though, stirring the ice in her cup of water around with a straw.
"They got their start here," she clarified, "as in, they eventually got gigs at other places. Which we haven't."
"Gee, thanks for the pep talk coach," Stiles retorted sarcastically. Lydia just shrugged and took a sip of her water, apparently unperturbed by her own observation on their complete mediocrity. Stiles couldn't really blame her; she had a lot to fall back on if the band didn't ever take off. Not only was she insanely pretty, but she was also ridiculously smart. Like, future rocket scientist, memorizes equations in her spare time, has the periodic table memorized kind of smart. She's already been accepted to half of the university's she'd applied to, including Yale and Brown.
When the band finally came on, the only way the group in the booth could tell was by the outburst of applause and hollering, the stage hidden from view by the crowd of bodies. Stiles had never seen Chapman's with so many people in it before -it looked like they were at capacity. He felt a brief pang of jealousy but squashed it down immediately. Someday they'd have a crowd like this, too. Hopefully.
"I can't see anything," Allison said, standing on her tip toes and trying to get a view of the band over the crowd. They could hear them fiddling with the instruments and doing mic checks.
"If we move we'll lose our seats," Stiles said, not keen on giving up the booth and losing their small safe haven within the mass of people.
Allison pouted and Scott caved. "Come on," he said. "We're here for the music anyways, we might as well get closer."
Stiles sighed but didn't bother to argue. Scott would do anything to put a smile on Allison's face and the idea of sitting alone in the booth (because Lydia was already getting up to go with them) wasn't appealing.
The second they were up and out of their seats the booth was snatched away by a group of cocky looking football players from the town over, identifiable by the jerseys they were wearing. Stiles only had a moment to mourn the loss before Lydia was dragging him after Scott and Allison who were already making their way through the press of bodies, pushing their way to the front. Allison was surprisingly aggressive in her attempts and Stiles was glad he wasn't in her way. Scott always likened her to a princess and Stiles was willing to agree as long as they were comparing her to Xena. The girl could be downright threatening.
Not that Lydia was much better, shoving people aside and then flashing them her signature smile when they turned to bitch at her, shutting them up simply by being gorgeous. It was insane really, how people thought guys were the more aggressive sex. In the company of these two, Stiles was practically a kitten. Which, in retrospect, probably wasn't doing him any good in his dating life, or lack thereof.
They got the front, making a spot for themselves next to the stage that they were usually standing on, just as the guitarist strummed his instrument for the beginning of the song. The band consisted of the guitarist (and singer if the mic in front of him was anything to go by) who had these incredible cheekbones and a mop of dusty brown hair, a curvy blonde keyboardist dressed in a swath of lace and spiked boots, a muscular black guy with no hair and biceps that bulged out of his black t-shirt, and a dark haired, broody looking bassist with a jaw line that made Stiles practically weak at the knees. Seriously, the guy was gorgeous, and when he looked up, Stiles could see that his eyes were an intense green colour that made him catch his breath. Not to mention that body -even under the dark jeans and long sleeve shirt Stiles could see the muscle definition.
Okay, so maybe he was a little bit glad they had abandoned their seats for a closer view. Even if the music ended up totally sucking, at least there was some good eye candy.
"Hey everybody," said the guitarist, gripping the mic in his hand and looking out at the crowd with what could only be described as sex eyes. They hadn't even started playing yet and these guys were intense.
"We're Moon Fever, and we are so glad to be back in this little bar where we got our start. Enjoy the show!"
Stiles joined in with the applause, the crowd hollering and rushing forward as the first song started up. He suddenly found himself pressed between Scott and a stranger, trying desperately to hold his ground against the people behind him who were trying to push their way through.
The music was good, if not exactly the kind of thing Stiles would spend his time listening to in the car. It was dark and haunting, the vocals switching between the guitarist and the keyboardist, both who sang with husky voices like they had just rolled out of bed. The guitarist played and moved around the front of the stage so that Stiles found himself looking up into his junk on more than one occasion. It looked like it was probably pretty good junk.
But he was more interested in the dark-haired bassist who seemed to be lost in the music, barely acknowledging the crowd or his band mates at all. He never missed a note though, his well-practiced fingers moving gracefully over the strings.
They moved from one song to another and Stiles let his friends coerce him into a rhythmic kind of swaying, which was the only kind of dancing that could really be done to the music they were playing, especially in such a small space.
The guitarist seemed to have taken a special interest in their little group though and often smiled down at them, a mischievous quirk of lips, catching their eyes and singing a line or two. Stiles didn't think much of it was directed at him, but more likely Allison and Lydia. They were the pretty females in the group after all. Although when he caught him eyeing Scott appreciatively he rethought his theory. He'd have been insulted that he wasn't getting the same kind of attention (he was a good looking guy, why did no one ever eye sex him?) but he was paying more attention to the bassist.
The keyboardist was singing something about passion and the moon and all Stiles could think of was crawling between the sheets with tall dark and delicious. The way the muscles in his arms rippled as he played was downright pornographic.
As if he could feel Stiles' eyes on him, the said clearly-should-have-been-a-porn star bassist glanced up from his instrument, briefly scanning the audience. His gaze swept over their group and settled, just for a second, on Stiles. The intensity of his look was crushing and the younger boy felt something in his chest cave in. He had been attracted to plenty of guys before, usually a fleeting flutter of hormones before he settled his affections back on Lydia, but this guy had lit something in him.
Which was unfortunate, really, as he was clearly out of the young drummer's league and also looked like he could eat him alive without batting an eyelash. The thought was more appealing than it should have been and Stiles cursed under his breath.
They played for just over a half an hour and Stiles stayed with his friends for all of it, not even bothering to be discreet about eyeing Mr. Delectable. Every now and then the man would pick up his head and look around, his eyes moving over Stiles in a way that made him have to take deep breaths to steady himself. Which was stupid because honestly the guy probably wasn't aware of his existence at all, not really. It was hard to focus on individual audience members when you were on stage (and not in the front eye sexing people like this guitarist who really fucking wanted Scott's junk, goddamn) and Stiles couldn't imagine what it was like looking out on so many people.
When it was over there was a lot of cheering and calling out for an encore. The guitarist looked particularly pleased, blowing kisses to the crowd and grinning at them all while their crew came on stage and started packing up the instruments. Stiles watched the new star of his wet dreams hand his bass off to someone and move to talk to the keyboardist. The crowd thinned a bit and Stiles felt like he could breathe again.
"So," he said, nudging Scott with his elbow as they stepped away from the stage. "That guitarist seemed pretty into you." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Allison laughed, wrapping her arm around her boyfriend's waist, and Scott groaned. "That was so weird dude. So weird."
"At least he's attractive," Stiles continued, smiling wide, and Allison hummed an agreement against Scott's chest. Scott flicked his gaze from his best friend to the petite brunette wrapped around him.
"Aren't you suppose to defend my honour or something?" has asked indignantly.
Allison grinned. "I'm pretty sure your honour is intact. Well, maybe not after that thing we did in the back of my car yesterday."
Stiles clapped his hands over is ears. "That's enough of that!" he declared loudly, turning on his heel to make his way towards the bar for some water. He didn't care that his friend was getting sexy times when he wasn't (that was a lie, he did, but he wasn't bitter about it), but he in no way wanted to hear about it.
"I know you're not over 21 Stilinski, don't even try it," said the bartender as he approached the counter.
Stiles waved his hand dismissively. "Relax Ronnie, I just want a water."
Ronnie narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously (people looked at Stiles like that a lot, he was used to it) but grabbed a cup and filled it with tap water and ice for him.
When Stiles turned back away from the bar to look for his friends, cup in hand, he immediately spotted Lydia only a few feet away, talking animatedly with Moon Fever's seductive looking blonde keyboardist. He pushed away from the bar and sauntered over to join them. When Lydia saw him she grabbed his arm and pulled him to her side and he wished he could wrap his arm around her waist, the way a boyfriend might, but he didn't. Lydia had made it clear she wasn't interested in him like that. Plus, she already had a boyfriend, one of Stiles and Scott's lacrosse teammates who was true royalty in the Kingdom of Conceited Assholes, Jackson Whittemore.
"Stiles, this is Erica, with the band."
He flashed the blonde a smile and shook the hand she offered. "Nice to meet you. You guys were awesome."
She grinned and her pouty red lips framed perfect white teeth. "I'm glad you liked it. Lydia tells me you guys have your own band?"
He nodded. "Yeah, actually, we usually play here on Fridays."
"Aw, so we took your spot. Sorry about that."
"Oh you guys are much better than us anyways," Lydia replied and Stiles shoved her lightly on the shoulder.
"Really Lydia, your confidence in us is overwhelming, think you could rein it in a bit? You're embarrassing me."
The eye roll she gave him was so impressive (almost on par with his own) that he couldn't even be upset about it. Erica laughed.
"I'm sure you guys are great. Everyone has to start somewhere, and this bar is as good as any. Although, I might be a little biased on that. What kind of music do you play?"
"Nothing like what you guys do," Stiles said. "Mostly indie rock kind of stuff."
"Very cool," she replied. "Most of us are into all sorts of different stuff. We play the dark stuff because it goes best with our talents. Oh hey! We're having a party back in our hotel suite, just a few people, you guys should totally come. Bring your band."
Lydia squeezed his arm in excitement. "We would love to! Doesn't that sound awesome Stiles?"
"Yeah, totally, that sounds great, we'd totally down for that."
Stiles let his mind slide back to the sexy bassist and his stupidly attractive face. He was definitely down for some more time staring at that sexiness. He didn't have a chance in hell at getting anywhere near him romantically, that much he knew. Guys like that weren't even on the same plane of existence as Stiles. But that didn't mean he couldn't get drunk and watch him from across a room before he went home to download pictures from the bands website to his computer. For, you know, future reference.
"Excellent," said Erica, smiling wide. "I'll let the guys know. We're at that big hotel downtown. You can follow us there."
And with that she was off into the crowd again to hunt down her band mates while Stiles and Lydia exchanged grins. They'd been invited to an after party at the hotel suite of a famous band. Life was fucking good.
Aaand, more to come soon. I hope.