Chapter 9: Whistles of Your Heart

"Fuck."

Vincent's disgruntled voice could be heard within the kitchen. Every one of the employees present there knew Vincent was not above cursing, evident in the way he would sometimes curse under his breath upon returning to the kitchen after an irritating conversation with a difficult client, mumbling about "all that money and they couldn't afford some manners". However, cursing loudly like that while slamming his fist on the wall behind him? It was so unlike him, it was off-putting. Even if he was strict at times, Vincent was a man of rationality and reasons. Never would you catch him full-on raging, ever, even if you tried to get him to. Why would someone try it, anyone who had known him had not a clue. Was it for attention, some kind of leverage, or just for their strange, sick entertainment from seeing such a calm individual losing it? Whatever it may be, it had certainly happened and every attempt had resulted in failure, along with their name being put on the restaurant's blacklist. Some found his composure scary, while others thought it was admirable, and anyone who had attempted to break it, he would make sure they received the adequate consequences of their idiocy. Nothing, no one could get him so upset, it started showing.

Except Rody, apparently.

If the employees had not been aware of the reason behind their boss's agitation, they would honestly think he had gone insane, he was possessed by something or it was his lookalike impersonating him. But they in fact knew why-the new waiter Pierre had just come to inform Vincent that he had received a call from Rody, who had asked him to tell Vincent he wouldn't be coming to work today. The thing was, it wasn't just this that had given Vincent such distress. It was the second day he had been gone from work, and along with the fact for both days, it was always Pierre he called to inform of his absence when usually he would call Vincent directly, it had left Vincent restless. For the past couple days, he had been antsy pretty much all the time, his feet taking him back and forth around the kitchen, and his focus was as though it couldn't stay on work. Even if he put some effort in it, his attention would begin scattering all over and end up becoming a mess. For the past couple days, Vincent hoped that Rody was just running late, but then before he knew it, it was afternoon and Rody was nowhere to be seen. Every time he heard the sound of the back door, he would turn to look, praying to see Rody's silly face peaking in with his forever disheveled hair. Every time there was something about Rody, his face would perk up, but would go back to grimacing, if not more than before, when it was just about Rody taking yet another day off work. It had only been a couple of days, and Vincent already felt like he was losing his mind.

"I'm sorry, that-wasn't aimed at you." Vincent adjusted his posture and sighed into his palms, his eyes exhausted. "Thank you for telling me, you can start work now."

"Yes chef, but…" Pierre fidgeted with his fingers, wondering if he should ask the forbidden question. The chances of him getting a bad reaction from Vincent was high, but he knew he had to. It was the question the chefs had been tempted to ask as well but didn't want to make the situation worse. "A-Are you alright?"

Vincent widened his eyes, as though not expecting this. "Huh-?"

"I-Just-We've noticed you've been antsy and-Yeah-"

There was a long stare from Vincent to Pierre, the former's eyes blinking a few times before he let out a grunt and pinched his nose. It became apparent to everyone at that moment that he probably didn't even realize how bad it had become.

"Yeah, sorry-I'm fine. Just-concerned about Rody is all." Vincent averted his gaze before turning back to Pierre. "Did he, by any chance, tell you why he's been absent for two days?"

"Oh actually yes, he did leave you a message." Pierre paused for a quick moment before continuing. "He uh-said something about being sick and he'd try to figure it out."

The art of half-truth, Vincent knew it all too well. It was something he had mastered in the two decades of his life. Vincent was an honest man, some would say too honest sometimes to the point of being blunt, but it was never his concern, or rather he couldn't afford to make it his concern. Even if the full truth hurt, even if it was raw, it would almost always what he chose because he was aware of the damage a comfortable lie had. The feelings that rushed through him when one of his friends reveal out of suppressed anger during an argument that she hated his guts but stayed because his popularity was the only reason she even had friends, he still remembered it all too well. The heartache when his ex told him he no longer was in love with him but didn't break up because he didn't want to hurt his feelings and he was afraid of being alone, it was still vivid in his mind, probably more than he would like to admit. However, honest as he wanted to be, it wasn't always desired in his eyes, and in those times, half-truths were what he aimed for. It wasn't the real story, but it was based on the full truths.

Just like what Rody wanted to tell him.

But could Vincent really blame him? Especially considering how Pierre and the other chefs were also there?

Under normal circumstances, Vincent would not leave Rody alone if Rody was gone for a long enough time for Vincent to have a reason to think something was wrong, especially during the times he was still vulnerable after the break-up with Manon. Ringing him, leaving him a voice message, checking up on him in person when he got the chance to. But this time, as his hand hovered over the phone, he couldn't find it in himself to pick it up and call Rody, no matter how much he wished to, no matter how much his mind was screaming at him to.

Not when he, out of all people, should know he didn't have the right to call him and ask what was wrong, when he himself knew damn well exactly what happened.

As his gaze darted to the sofa his eyes had been avoiding making contact with for the past three days, he let out a grunt, pulling his hand back hesitantly before heading to his room. It was as though Rody had put him under a spell, any day Rody was gone and Vincent didn't know why, the day felt longer than it was supposed to be. Every second felt like eternity, every minute he wished the day would just be over already, and each time he had hoped his heart beats had slowed down, he was brought back to that accursed night. His mind rarely had any moment of peace, so by the time he could close the door to his apartment behind him, he was restless. Today was no different. The moment night fell and it was time to close up the restaurant, he let out a sigh of relief, happy that he could finally be alone with all these difficult emotions.

Oh wait, maybe Rody did put him under a spell.

Love.

Vincent stared at his ceiling as he let his body fall onto the bed, feeling its softness swallowing him whole. Vincent knew he had a low alcohol tolerance, he knew having alcohol with Rody that night was a recipe for disaster. But somehow, he was stubborn. He was foolish to not have listened to his instincts. "It wouldn't be too bad, would it?", he thought in his mind as he walked up to Rody to offer him a drink. But what he thought was him passing out on the couch and slightly embarrassing himself, turned into him spilling his entire heart out, to the person he had hidden those feelings from. As a matter of fact, it wasn't just Rody that he had concealed those emotions away from, it was also himself.

How ironic, the man who would always rather go down the path of bitter truth because he hated comfortable lies, was living in one himself.

He put his arm across his face, tired alone from the knowledge that he likely wasn't going to get a wink of sleep either tonight. While he would love to believe he wasn't aware he caught feelings, he knew better not to create more pleasant fabrication of reality after he had committed such a heinous act, after he had held Rody's chin, expressed how he wished to keep him to himself, to love him the way Rody had taught him, and especially not after their lips had almost touched, sealing the fate they were not yet ready for, if Rody even wanted it in the first place. All this time, he had conveniently brushed off his strange behaviors as him tolerating Rody's shenanigans, but it was more than that, and he knew so. Rarely did he smile from someone's dumb jokes. Rarely did he enjoy teasing someone. Rarely did he try to find excuses to see someone. Rarely did he let his guard down around someone so quickly. And rarely did he allow himself to be so vulnerable.

When did he lock his heart up and threw the key in the ocean of dreadful memories? He wasn't sure himself, but he was certain it happened when one day, it was enough. All the betrayals, lies, and mistrust; all the idiocy and cruelty he never realized humans were capable of, even from ones that appeared and claimed to be more sophisticated than others; all the headache of trying to decide who he could trust, who he should be wary of; all the pressure to have the life everyone somehow decided they had the right to shove onto him, to have the glorified happily-ever-after everyone was told they should and would receive one day… he decided he had had too much to care any longer. So, even if it was an unconscious choice that it pained him to make, he was going to throw the key in the deep dark ocean of his mind, never to let it be found again.

That was until Rody, that stupid persistent guy, somehow discovered it.

No, he didn't discover it because he was the first one to see it after it had been lost for years. He earned it because of his endless love. Rody's kind nature, his romantic ideas, his big dreams of sharing his life with someone he was devoted to, his genuine desires for love, Vincent hated it because it was what broke his shell. He longed for true, genuine connections, and in return, he received deception and false idealized promises. Maybe that was the reason his frozen heart started to flutter again when he saw that look in Rody's eyes on that fateful day that was filled with determination to prove his love and dedication to his beloved.

It was a gradual change in his feelings, one so subtle even he couldn't notice. What he thought was distaste in Rody's "overly romanticized views" was, in hindsight, his mind rejecting his heart's reminder that there was a time he wanted something similar-a person he could trust, devote his heart to and promise to stay with despite what life might throw at them. Then, it was a wave of conflicting emotions. When Rody was in pain, his heart ached alongside him. When Rody fell back to his old habits of self-destruction, all Vincent wanted to do was to smack some sense back into him, but also hold and comfort him. And now, what he had tried to convince himself was just a spur of a moment, a temporary reminder of the past, had turned into something stronger, something more irresistible, something that would haunt him behind his back as he pretended it didn't exist. Turned out, spending more time with Rody didn't make his heart calm down and realize it was just a quick little crush, it just made it beat faster whenever Rody showed up to work with that goofy grin of his. Now that he thought about it more, he couldn't decide whether it was good that he snapped out of his desire-driven speech and the alcohol's sweet allure that led him out the barrier he had formed between himself and Rody because he feared ruining what they had, or if he should've just continued and acted like it was a meaningless drunk talk the next day.

Perhaps he should've followed his friends' words and built up more tolerance after all, because if he had done so, he wouldn't have been fallen to the temptation so easily. He wouldn't have allowed the alcohol to break the shield he had put up between his rational side and his heart, a cage for all the forbidden emotions, all the shameful thoughts he had felt from every smile from Rody that he didn't deserve, from every eye contact they made, every accidental touch they shared and every time he overheard the chefs teasing Rody about something he had pretended to be ignorant of.

Vincent Charbonneau was the front he put up to protect himself of what he feared, to be the face of a coward Vince was. Vincent Charbonneau was the perfect image he had spent years curating to be the one presenting the good side of himself and his career, the sparkling side that he was comfortable showcasing to the world-a skillful, passionate chef who rose to fame with his masterful techniques; a straightforward person one could both fear and admire at the same, someone who would not tolerate any form of disrespect and was not easy to fool; and a charming, intelligent and proper man who could gain anyone's trust from the very first look. Yet underneath was someone completely opposite, a foolish man who was enticed by the very thing he had sworn to never seek again, and someone who used a false image of himself to shield the world away from his weaknesses because the thought of someone using it against him terrified the deepest parts of his soul. That part of himself, not many people had reached it and never would he let anyone see it again, yet here he was, curled up in his bed with the dim lights of the streets outside shining on his lonesome presence in the room, just because he was stupid enough to go against his better judgment and poured all of his thoughts out like they were obvious, like they didn't come with consequences that would eat him up inside. He didn't listen to the rational side of his mind, so now instead of the bond he had unintentionally formed with Rody, he had nothing except his lonesome presence amidst the tangled threads that were his racing, disorderly thoughts.

At least, he thought he was alone until a sound broke the dreadful silence looming over him.

It wasn't just any sound. It was a tune. Hearing music at this time of the night was not something Vincent was unfamiliar with. Whether it was a party nearby, a musician looking to gain more attention by showing off their talent on the streets or just a happy-go-lucky person humming a small song to themselves while skipping past his apartment, Vincent had gotten used to music at any time of the day, let alone this early in the night. Annoying as some loud people might be with what they played, hearing music nearby wouldn't be something Vincent found startling, even if it was at midnight. However, he couldn't help turning over upon being intrigued by what he was hearing.

Just like anything else in his life, Vincent had quite a refined taste for music, and he was fine being called difficult over it. More often than not, whenever there was music playing outside, it would just go straight past his ears as he could not be bothered to show interests in it. The only type of his interest he had ever expressed, if you could even call it interest, was some complaints when it became too noisy or irritating to ignore. However, it was not the case here. This guitar tune, it was beautiful, and it was the word he only reserved for something he thought could truly deserve it, when there was just no other word to describe it. It was gentle, like the touches he didn't realize he craved. It was soothing, like a lullaby that could put even the most restless souls to sleep, almost like his own. It was tranquil, its notes dancing in harmony with the quietness of the night, and for a split second, it was as though all his worries had melted away and all was left in his mind was the elegant melody. Although short-lived, it provided the much needed time for him to take a deep breath and just… be there in the moment.

Perhaps it wasn't just the tune that captivated him, it was also the emotions in it. He had never seen what this person looked like, never seen the expression they were wearing at this very moment, and they would likely never cross path again till the end of time, yet it was as though this person understood him in a way that was almost impossible to achieve. It was as though this person had led a similar life to him, had shared the same struggles as him, had made mistakes they could never forget and had shaped them into the person they were today, and had lost someone they held dearly because they were too afraid to face their feelings. This skillful musician, Vincent didn't even know who they were, had never exchanged a word with them, and yet he felt more connected to them than most people he had ever met, and it was through a different form of communication that was their music.

"I thought it would be better
Leaving us without a goodbye
I wouldn't have had the heart to see you again."

Ah, such an enchanting voice they had too, and just like the tune, their voice was filled with the unexplainable emotions that were almost identical to the ones Vincent held, as though they were helping Vincent express the deepest parts of his heart desires. For the past decades he had been on this world, never would he have thought a faceless individual would be capable of not only grasping Vincent's emotions, but also having the pure talent to unravel those difficult emotions through their form of art, through their graceful music and their winsome voice. It was as if they were able to feel Vincent's sorrow and had come to shared it with him on this lonely night. If given the opportunity, Vincent would love to meet them personally and give them his gratitude. Even if he had only gotten to know them for a short few minutes, those short few minutes of unspoken words made him felt more understood than the many people who had claimed to know him better than he knew himself.

"'Leaving us without a goodbye'…" Vincent repeated the lyrics with a voice so soft, it was inaudible. Would this really be it for him and Rody, an ending with no proper goodbyes? Would Vincent never get the chance to see Rody again for another conversation, to make more stupid jokes together, to laugh with him, to cook for him, to share his struggles, to see him thrive, and to see him be happy… even with someone that was not him? It would seem like it, and Vincent had no one to blame other than himself. He was given another chance at love and he ruined it, just like everything else in his life, and for what? His own selfish wants?

"But I hear the train whistle
But I hear the train whistle
How sad it is to see a train whistling in the evening.

I could imagine you
All alone abandoned
On the quay in the crowd of goodbyes."

Funnily enough, as beautiful as this person's voice was, Vincent felt a sting in his heart hearing it. It was both calming and yet oddly reminiscent of the person that gave Vincent these puzzling feelings in the first place. They sounded so similar to him, Vincent was almost convinced they were one and the same-

Vincent let out a gasp as, all of a sudden, he regained all the strength he needed to push himself out of bed and hastily ran towards the direction of the voice. Gripping the curtains and shoving them apart as though he had no time to waste, his eyes gazed down the street below and his heart skipped a beat. There Rody was, glowing under the streetlight with his hands on the guitar and his back leaning against the streetlight. There was only him under the vast night sky, yet his presence alone was enough to illuminate it just like the bright ray of sunshine that he was. As his masterful fingers created the bewitching melody that touched Vincent's soul, he continued to sing his heart away, filling the air with his captivating voice that Vincent had known and loved, as though letting out the most genuine emotions from the deepest part of his heart. That talented musician that sounded as though they had walked the same path as him, had shared the same struggles as him, who he would very much love to have a talk one day if given the chance and somehow sounded exactly like the person Vincent missed dearly, turned out it was him all along. Had they always been this alike all this time? Had they always shared this connection yet none of them was willing to admit it?

Now Vincent was sure he was put under a spell, because as though hypnotized, he didn't realize until way later that those green eyes he was fond of were now looking up at him, on Rody's face a smile that he wasn't afraid to show and Vincent nearly pinched himself. Wasn't he the one absent from work this morning because he was too scared to look at Vincent again after what transpired two days before? Didn't he want to keep his distance because he wanted to figure this out? Vincent almost didn't want to believe this was Rody he was seeing, that this was just an imagination from how much he was wishing to see Rody again. What could have possibly happened in the past two days that turned the man who rightfully ran out of his apartment to a skillful guitarist who was singing as if wishing to join their hearts together?

"I almost ran to you
I almost yelled at you
I could hardly restrain myself."

As Rody sang those words, he maintained his gaze on Vincent as though having expected his arrival, and it hit Vincent-this song was meant for him. These words were meant for him. And these words… they were of Rody's feelings.

"That it's far away where you're going
That it's far away where you're going
Will you ever have time to come back?"

As the puzzles pieces finally clicked together in Vincent's mind, he sprinted as fast as he possibly could out of his room, bursting through the front door to his apartment and rushed towards Rody's direction. This could very well be another mistake, or hell, this may not even be real and it was just a figment of his imagination, but he couldn't be afraid anymore, he couldn't afford to let another chance slip because of his cowardice. If he had to choose between humiliation and an opportunity to talk to Rody again, he would always choose the latter, all concerns that may come afterward gone out of the windows already. If it meant getting to hear Rody's voice again, even for the last time, it was well worth it.

"I thought it would be better
Leaving us without a goodbye
But I feel like now it's all over.

And I hear the train whistle
And I hear the train whistle
I'll hear this train whistling for the rest of my life.

I'll hear this train whistling for the rest of my life."

Ending the song, Rody turned over with that same bright smile he had always had to look at Vincent, who was now standing next to him with heavy breaths, and Rody could feel his heart beat increasing. It was not the proper-looking Vincent that Rody always saw at work. Instead of the pristine white shirt, he had on a black shirt that was slightly wrinkled, as though he was rolling around in bed just now. Instead of his usual smoothly combed hair, his hair was now disheveled, a few strands sticking out and falling over his eyes that, although looked tired, were still as beautiful as ever. His voice was breathless as a few drops of sweats traced his jawline and tall nose, dropping down from his well-defined chin. It was the same flawed Vincent that Rody saw under the rain on that fateful day seven months ago, and since then, he had not realized he wanted to see his imperfect side of him again until now.

"Well?" Rody chuckled as he propped his guitar down on the ground, trying to mask his nervousness with a smile. "How did ya like it?"

"Rody, I-"

Vincent inhaled deeply as an attempt to regain his voice, gathering his thoughts as he did so. This wasn't supposed to happen. This shouldn't happen, yet here he was, standing in front of Rody himself. "I thought-I thought I'd never get to see you again."

Rody turned away, Vincent's words bringing him back to that night. It was a blur, as he dashed through Vincent's apartment door, down the stairs, along the streets and finally shutting the door of his own apartment behind him. With his back against the door, he just sat there motionlessly, his eyes down the floor as the walls of the room seemed to be closing in on him and swallowing him up, suffocating him with his own thoughts. The room was spinning as he bolted past the countless thoughts running through his mind, chasing him down as though they had finally found the chance to catch him off guard, and they were going to make it count. His heart was beating so loudly in his ears, it drowned out the world itself, trapping him without any possible escape route. He clutched his hair as though trying to claw the unpleasant thoughts out of his head. He covered his ears, trying to block out all the whispers from the demons of his mind looming over him, taunting him with their existence. He wanted to run, he wanted to flee from their prying eyes, he wanted to scream at them to go away, yet all he was capable of doing was sitting there helplessly, kept in the cage of dreadful emotions and sickening thoughts.

Rody hated this. Rody hated that all this time, he forced himself to make excuses as to why Vincent was being so strangely nice to him, whether it was for his reputation, his restaurant or just his own selfishness. Rody hated that he had spent nights just laying there, wondering if Vincent really did mean all the kind words he had given him. Rody hated that Vincent cared so much for someone who didn't deserve it, like him. Rody hated that he had caught himself sneaking glances at Vincent's ways, admiring in the way he carried himself, how his slender fingers went through his dark locks and how his eyes glowed under the warm sunshine. Rody hated that he had found himself questioning the feelings he had when Vincent chuckled at his jokes, the skip of his heart when Vincent held his hands and the flutters in his chest when Vincent gazed at him with concerns. Rody hated that he had been so afraid to ask what made him so special for Vincent to be this dedicated to helping him, caring for him and supporting him, even when Vincent blatantly denied it like every single kind gesture he did for others.

Rody hated that this was the answer he got when he finally had the courage to asking, and he hated that he didn't want to distance himself from Vincent even though he should.

He felt like he should be angry, he should feel betrayed, but would it be fair to Vincent, considering he was also lying to him about his feelings?

As Rody looked up at last, he caught glimpse of his guitar leaning on the wall across from him and sealed away from the world in its case. In school, it was something he was almost never seen without, as if it was a part of his identity. It was just a guitar, yet to him, it was something so much more. It was the guitar his dad played to propose to his mom, making it symbolic of the love they had for each other. Whenever he held it in his hands and played a song, he could feel his parents' powerful love connecting with his own, reminding him of his dream of one day finding someone to play his guitar for, and he did. Manon loved seeing him play his guitar. Every time he did, she would sit next to him and they would sing along with the tunes. It became a tradition for him to play her favorite songs on special occasions, until it wasn't anymore. After their break up, it turned from an object of his fondest emotions to something that held too much dreadful memories. Just looking at it reminded him of her smile when her song started playing, her beautiful voice as she sang along and her adorable little claps after the song ended. Therefore, ever since that day, it had been kept hidden in its case, tucked away in a corner and left untouched for months.

From a strange force, he started approaching it and before he was even aware of it, he had already opened the case and held the guitar in his hands again after so many months had passed.

Just then, a distant sound entered the room. It was the train from afar, filling the night with its melancholic whistles. It sounded so loud yet so sorrowful at the same time, so… lonely. It was so big with its robust engines and strong wheels carrying it effortlessly across the train tracks, yet it presence was so small amidst the city and under the vast sky. As he gazed at the desolate train, its sad whistles continuing to soar in the quiet night, he wondered if Vincent was also like that train-so famous, so charming with plenty of admirers, yet deep inside his heart, there was so many hidden emotions that he felt no one would understand. His image was always sparkling, his reputation spotless and his aura threatening anyone who was daring enough to get in his way. He was a perfect man with the perfect look, perfect career, perfect skills and an overall perfect life that many looked up to and envied. He was loved by many, praised by many and feared by many. If you asked any random person on the streets, more often than not, they would reply they would happily trade their life with his, with no regrets. Yet when Vincent leaned in and grabbed his chin, why could Rody see a tint of blue behind those dark eyes of his? Why was there a hint of hopelessness, a feeling of an unreachable dream in his voice as he expressed his desire to make Rody his? How long had Vincent had these feelings?

How long had Rody had these feelings?

Sighing, he propped himself up on his kitchen counter and as he started playing his guitar, staring into the distance as he let his mind drift. His mind then wandered into the field of memories filled with Vincent's image, from their first meeting in that office, their first words, their first joke together, his emotionless face that turned gentle when Rody felt down and worried when Rody got hurt during work, his smiles that he rarely ever gave to anyone, his touches, his voice, and his caring nature that he tried so hard to keep hidden but always failed when he saw one of his employees struggling. Vincent wanted to make himself a heartless man, a monster even, and Rody didn't know why until now when all of the pieces have clicked. It was a shield for him to hide from the cruelty of the world, the ugly side of fame, the prying eyes from the people who wished the worst on him and the individuals who put on a mask in order to get close to him just to stab him in the back. In order to protect himself, he claimed to not care about anyone else, he claimed to be incapable of love, but Rody knew better than that. He loved Rody in a way that was different and unique, and he probably didn't even realize it.

I want you to show me your love, Vince.

The thought crossed Rody's mind, bringing his movements to a halt. The train was still whistling outside, the chilly wind rushing in through the windows and through his brown locks of hair as he fell into a trance, the same thought playing in his mind again and again as if not leaving him a chance to doubt it. And so, the train kept on moving forward towards its destination, leaving Rody alone to think about his own.

"Me too, Vince. I thought that was the last time we'd talk. I was afraid to talk, but"-Rody chuckled before looking up to look at Vincent again-"I can't fathom doing it to you, I can't fathom doing it to… us."

"To… us?" Vincent's voice was quiet as he spoke, struggling to grasp what Rody could possibly mean by that. "Rody, but-whatever was between us, I-I ruined it. I was too foolish, too ignorant of my emotions and I… I pushed you away-"

"Vince, I ran away not because I was scared of you, but of-my own feelings." Rody tightened his grip on his shirt. "When you told me your feelings, it reminded me of my own, and the idea of confronting them was-too much, you know. So-I took some time to think about-just what I wanted, and…"

Rody tilted his head and gave Vincent his bright smile that Vincent loved so dearly.

"And I realized, I wanna keep showing you what love is."

The world around them fell into silence, the wind passing through and making the leaves on the trees rustle as their eyes locked together, the same smile still visible on Rody's lips. If anything, it had gotten more radiant than ever with a sense of bliss in his eyes. Rody was beautiful. He was beautiful with his messy brown locks that Vincent wished to continue drying from the rain. He was beautiful with his eyes, which were as green as an enchanted forest, one Vincent wouldn't mind getting lost in. He was beautiful with his rosy lips that Vincent hoped to put a smile on every day. He was beautiful playing his guitar with his enthralling voice under the boundless night sky. And he was beautiful as the person he was, as the Vincent fell in love with. Illuminated by the dim street light under starry night sky, he looked like an angel, the beam of joy that this world didn't deserve, and somehow, he had chosen Vincent's world to shine upon. It was strange, how this was what Vincent had dreamed of, yet at this moment, he found it difficult to accept it was happening, seemingly still doubting whether it was real or it was just a dream he was having of his faraway desires. If it was a dream, Vincent hoped it was one he never woke up from.

"Rody, just… why?" Vincent shook his head as he held it. "Why me-? I-What did I do to deserve this?"

"Vince, remember what you told me? That you were doing this because of me? Well it's the same here, and also… you did so much more for me that you're willing to admit."

Rody shot a quick glace down at the ground, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he continued with a hint of endearment in his voice. "You were there when I was at my lowest, you gave me a safe place to heal, you give me space when I need it but will be there in a heartbeat when I need you. You just were… there, for me. You're a good friend, a kind person who asks nothing in return, and today, I see you in a different light, as someone more than just a friend."

Seeing that Vincent was still speechless from seemingly quite a shock, Rody chuckled as he put a hand on his hip. "C'mon Vince, you were all poetic yesterday and now you're acting shy? What happened with 'keeping me to yourself'?"

There was a cheeky grin on Rody's lips, and for some reason, it filled Vincent with an unexplainable urge that probably had been unleashed now that there was no more barrier stopping him.

"Then tell me, Rody. What do you want me to do?"

Vincent had on a smirk as he approached Rody. But instead of his usual playfulness, Rody could sense he had nothing but bad intentions up his sleeves, and it made Rody gulp with anticipation.

"I-I don't know, w-what do you want to do?" Rody tried to throw a mischievous look back at Vincent to distract himself from the fact his heart was beating fast in his chest and a blush was creeping onto his cheeks.

"Hmm…" Vincent's smirk only grew wider as he softly took ahold of Rody's chin, sending chills down his spine. "Well Rody, I wish to wipe that grin off your face."

"T-Then do it, I dare you-"

Clunk.

The guitar landed onto the sidewalk beneath them from Rody's hand letting go of it suddenly, and it took his mind a few moments to fully register what was going on, that Vincent's lips were on his own. Before Rody managed to complete his sentence, Vincent's hand had already grabbed Rody's lower back and connected their lips at least, both of their hearts feeling as though they would explode in excitement at any given moment. Having nothing to restrain himself now, Vincent didn't hesitate to lean in and deepen the kiss, their hot breaths reaching each other's face. It lasted only for a short while, but oh how long it felt to them for they had hoped for this moment but none of them was able to admit it. Times stopped moving around them, everything halted in its track as though leaving this moment for the newfound lovers whose mind was filled with nothing but each other, their bodily heat and the passionate kiss they were sharing. Vincent said he was the greedy one, but turned out he wasn't the only one as Rody wrapped his arms around Vincent's neck and pulled him in more. He wanted more of the hot, sweet kiss they were sharing, and with Vincent being a surprisingly good kisser, it sent him into a frenzy and had him craving for more. How much time had lasted, they did not know. The only thing they knew was that by the time they pulled apart, they were breathless, their cheeks red with a string of saliva still connecting the tips of their tongues.

"So-" Rody tried to take in deep breaths, still recovering from that kiss. "Did you do it? Or do you want another try?"

"Well, before that-"

Vincent pulled Rody in again, not for another kiss but rather a… hug. A big, deep embrace, one that felt like Vincent was afraid Rody was going to disappear at any moment and was doing his best to keep him here just a little longer. With their chests touching, Rody could feel Vincent's heartbeats as Vincent's hands gripped his back tightly and his chin resting on his shoulder.

"Rody, just… Please, stay here with me." His voice wavered slightly. "I almost lost you, and I just… I just want you here to convince myself I'm not imagining this."

Rody smiled sweetly as he hugged Vincent back, his hands rubbing his back. "I'm not going anywhere, silly."

Vincent let out a sigh of relief, feeling a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. Rody's warmth, his soothing voice, his gentle touches… even if there was an inkling of doubts left in his mind, Rody's presence here reaffirmed his reality that yes, Rody was here, and they now were each other's.

"Thanks, Rody." Vincent chuckled as they broke the hug. "Isn't it funny how I'm the one who said no more relationship for you until you got your shit together? And now I'm just-here?"

"Well yes, emphasis on 'until I got my shit together', which I did." Rody gave him a proud smirk as he leaned down to pick up his guitar. "Still, I think it's better for us to take our time to, you know, figure this out together?"

Vincent nodded in agreement. "Right."

If by taking their time, they meant two hours, then they would be right.

Rody wasn't sure how it happened. Just moments ago, they were sitting on the sofa together in Vincent's apartment, enjoying some warm tea as they talked their hearts away as the barrier holding them back was no longer there. No longer feeling like they had to hide anything from the other person anymore, they shared many of their emotions and their struggles, sharing laughs about the silly things they did because they were confused about their crush on the other person and even discussing some long-term plans together that they felt were appropriate for this stage of their relationship. For the first time ever, Vincent looked so relaxed, so… free, and there was a radiant energy from him that pulled Rody in closer to admire it better. And before he knew it, he had already put his lips on Vincent again, who eagerly returned it. Some playful kisses turned into a full-on make out session with Vincent on top of Rody, trapping him on the sofa. And if Rody had to be honest, he had no intention of escaping and if anything, he fully planned to keep indulging in the pleasure. The night was young and he was going to enjoy every second of it, but what he didn't expect was Vincent whispering into his ear about "taking their unfinished business to the bedroom" and now there they were. Having pinned Rody down the bed, Vincent wasted no time giving him small kisses on his neck while his hands roamed on his chest.

Perhaps taking their time actually meant Vincent taking his time to savour Rody like a fine dining meal.

"Vince, I-Urgh-" Rody didn't get to finish his sentence before a grunt escaped his lips. "S-Slow down, I can't-"

"Sorry Rody." Vincent's voice was low, almost raspy as his teeth sunk into his collarbone, eliciting a moan from Rody who clasped his hand over his mouth after realizing how loud he was being. "You just taste so good and I can't help wanting more."

Rody was in the middle of suppressing another moan when his eyes widened upon hearing that. Propping himself up as best he could with his elbows, he looked at Vincent who was hovering over him with his arms pinned on both of his sides. "W-wait, taste? Is it figurative or-"

"No, I meant it." Vincent wiped his lips but that did not prevent Rody from seeing the smirk on his lips. "It's been so long since I felt it again. Hmm… if I remember correctly, this is what 'sweet' tastes like.

You taste sweet, Rody."

The way Vincent shot him a lustful look as he licked his lips slowly, as though wanting to make sure Rody saw it, seemed to have awakened something in Rody from the way he grabbed Vincent's shoulders and forcefully flipped him over, reversing their position in a matter of seconds. The teasing face was wiped off Vincent real quick and was now replaced by a rather concerned look upon realizing how strong Rody actually was. As he glanced up, he was met with those green eyes of Rody, but they weren't the same ones he knew and loved. Instead of the bright green color that always gleamed with hopes and dreams, they were now a deep dark shade with a glimpse of unconventional desires. Rody had changed from an innocent little puppy to a hungry beast ready to devour him, and it scared Vincent that it made him want to see what Rody was capable of.

"You had your fun, Vince. Now it's my turn." Rody's breath touched Vincent's neck, making him shudder with anticipation while his hand yanked the bottom of his shirt up, licking his lips when he saw Vincent's exposed skin underneath. "I wonder what you taste like."

In the end, Vincent was right about not getting a wink of sleep tonight after all.

Author's note:

Heya! For all my readers here, I'm terribly sorry for my spontanious updates! Since this story isn't in its proper category yet, I keep forgetting to upload the chapters.
Also the song used here is J'entends siffler le train by Richard Anthony! I thought the vibe and lyrics fit this chapter perfectly.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And I'll remember to upload more often!