early/late sias alex turner x fem oc
warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, piv, alcohol use, friends to lovers, slight slow burn, fluff, suggestive dancing, morning after, explicit language, corny humor…
Blair had already found the edge of the rooftop, which told her everything she needed to know about the party. She looked out at the city stretched out in front of her. Orange streetlights, distant headlights, the low, ever-present hum of Los Angeles traffic that never seemed to sleep. The air was still warm despite the hour, clinging to her skin in a way that made even standing still feel like effort. Behind her, the music pulsed too loudly for the size of the space, the bass vibrating through the concrete beneath her shoes.
Breana seemed to be doing well, which was to say she was already halfway through a story she didn’t really need to tell, laughing at her own punchline while someone nodded along like they understood. She caught Blair’s eye mid-sentence, a wordless check-in Blair was familiar with by now. Blair responded with a quick shake of her head, an answer that meant I’m fine and don’t rescue me yet.
“You hate it,” Breana said later, slipping in beside her like she’d always planned to end up there. Blair and Breana had been orbiting each other long enough to have developed a language that didn’t need explaining. Parties like this always ended the same way: Breana in the middle of the room, Blair at the edge, both exactly where they wanted to be.
“I don’t hate it,” Blair said. “I just don’t need to be in the middle of it.”
Breana grinned, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, you might get dragged into it a little more than usual tonight. Remember that music video I was filming the other day? For that band?”
Blair glanced at her, brow slightly raised. “Yeah?”
“I invited someone from it.” Breana said casually.
Blair tilted her head, curiosity nudging her out of her quiet edge. “Wait, who?”
Breana shrugged, clearly expecting the question. “Matt. The drummer. He and I, we are… something. Casual. Anyways, I invited him to the party.”
Blair waited, letting the pause stretch. “Just him?” She raised an eyebrow.
Breana laughed softly, taking a sip of her drink. “And… he might bring a friend. Stop looking at me like that.”
Blair hummed, leaning back against the railing, letting her curiosity simmer. She wasn’t sure why it mattered so much that Matt might bring a friend, but there was something in Breana’s tone that hinted it wasn’t entirely casual. The bass continued to thump under her feet, the city lights glinting off glass and metal, and for a moment the party felt like a blur behind her.
Then movement caught her eye. Breana nudged her shoulder, nodding toward the stairwell where two figures appeared. One, a few inches taller than the other, lean, and composed, led the way. The other followed with an easy, quiet presence. Blair’s attention latched onto the second, the one trailing slightly behind, like he didn’t need anyone to notice his arrival.
Matt led the way, hands tucked into his pockets, talking to someone out of Blair’s line of sight. The other followed more slowly, scanning the rooftop like he was figuring out the space. Blair recognized him immediately. Alex Turner. She didn’t know him personally, hadn’t followed every interview or album release, but she knew enough. Enough to recognize him in a room without being given an introduction.
And, distantly and unhelpfully, her brain added: Huh. Shorter than I thought.
Breana’s eyes lit up. “There they are,” she whispered, tugging gently at Blair’s arm. “Come on, I want to say hi.”
Blair hesitated just a second at the edge of the railing, letting her gaze flick over the two men. Breana was already bouncing slightly on her heels, excitement barely contained. “Wait. Are you serious?” Blair murmured, keeping her voice low.
“Of course,” Breana said, grinning. “Matt and I have a few things to… check in on. And Alex…” She gave Blair a playful nudge. “...well, you’ll see.”
Before Blair could protest, Breana was already leading her across the rooftop, weaving through small groups of guests. Blair followed, more out of habit than enthusiasm, letting the music and chatter blur into the background. She was aware of Alex without needing to stare, aware of the energy Breana was radiating, and perfectly content to observe it all from a step behind.
They reached Matt first. He turned the moment Breana called his name, a grin breaking across his face.
“There you are,” he said, already pulling her into a hug.
Breana laughed against his chest. “You’re acting like I was the one who’s late.”
“Was I? Hm. Whoops.” He said lightly, brushing a hand down her arm like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She leaned into him without thinking, fingers hooking into the hem of his shirt. “You’re dumb.”
Matt’s smile softened when he looked at her. “Only when it comes to you.”
“Blair, this is Matt,” Breana said after a moment, still half in his arms. “Matt, this is one of my favorite people, Blair.”
Matt shifted just enough to offer Blair a hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“And this is Alex,” Matt added, glancing back over his shoulder.
Alex stood a step back, relaxed, hands in his jacket pockets. Up close, he looked quieter than Blair expected. Calm. Observant.
His gaze lingered for half a second longer than necessary, not intense, just curious.
Breana glanced between them, clearly clocking something. “You two can entertain each other while Matt and I grab drinks.”
“Oi,” Matt said, amused. “We can all go.”
Breana shook her head quickly. “No, you and you only are getting me tequila. This is important.”
Matt laughed and gave a quick look back to Alex. “I’ll be back.”
They disappeared into the crowd together, Breana’s hand still hooked in his.
Blair watched them go, already knowing exactly what Breana thought she was doing. The way she’d said entertain each other. The too-quick exit. The deliberate pairing-off, like it was some kind of social experiment Blair hadn’t agreed to participate in.
She shifted her weight between her feet, folding her arms as if that might shield her from being part of whatever plan Breana had just decided on. Part of her wanted to call after her. Another part knew it would be useless.
Alex stood beside her, quiet but present. He followed her gaze across the rooftop, watching the way Breana and Matt melted into the mass of people like they belonged there.
“They didn’t waste any time,” he said.
Blair let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “She never does. If Breana wants something, she goes straight for it.” Her fingers tapped once against her arm, a small nervous habit she’d had since she was a kid.
“Seems obvious,” Blair said dryly, though the word had a more lighthearted tone to it than she let on.
That made him smile. Not a big grin. Just the corner of his mouth lifting, like he was amused but not trying to draw attention to it. She noticed it anyway.
They stood in silence for a moment. Another warm breeze rolled across the rooftop, lifting the edge of her jacket and cooling the back of her neck. Blair tilted her head back slightly, staring up at the hazy sky, trying to ground herself in the moment instead of whatever expectation Breana had planted.
Blair cleared her throat, the silence stretching just long enough to start feeling noticeable.
“So,” she said, immediately hating that she’d opened with it. “Uh, hi. Properly, I mean.”
Alex smiled faintly. “Hi. Properly.”
She exhaled through her nose, eyes flicking briefly toward the crowd where Breana had already vanished. Of course she’d leave me with someone like this, Blair thought. Someone effortlessly cool, someone who didn’t look like he was internally cataloging every social misstep as it happened.
“What do you do?” Alex asked, easy and conversational, just something to fill the space.
Blair almost laughed. Right. The universal opener. She scoffed softly under her breath before answering, more at herself than anything else.
“I–” she paused, already overthinking it. “Nothing interesting. Which is great. I mean, for me. Probably not for… parties.”
His brow lifted slightly. “I don’t believe that. Breana mentioned you two had similar jobs. A few days back.”
“Breana spoke about me?” The question slipped out sharper than she meant it to, eyebrows knitting together before she could stop herself. There was a brief, ridiculous flare of something in her chest. Surprise, embarrassment, or the strange discomfort of realizing she existed in conversations she wasn’t part of.
She cleared her throat, forcing herself to relax her shoulders.
“I mean…” she added quickly, waving it off. “Yeah. We do. Similar enough, anyway.” She shifted her weight, grounding herself again. “We met on a set years ago. It’s more her thing than it is mine now, though.”
Alex nodded, considering that. “So what is your thing now?”
Blair hesitated, gaze drifting briefly past him toward the skyline, like the answer would be magically written somewhere in the glow of the city. “I’ve been… shifting,” she said carefully. “Trying to, at least.” She rubbed her thumb along the edge of her jacket sleeve, a quiet, absent gesture. “I’ve been looking more into photography. Nothing dramatic. Mostly freelance stuff. Still learning what I like.” She shrugged. “It’s quieter. Fewer people telling you where to stand, what to do, how to look.” Her mouth curved into a small smile. “Or at least, I get to do the bossing around. I like that part.”
Alex watched her for a moment, then said, “That makes sense.”
Blair glanced toward the bar again, half-expecting to spot Breana’s hair bobbing above the crowd. “She and Matt seem… settled,” she said, choosing the word carefully.
Alex followed her gaze. “That’s one way to put it.”
“So it’s not just me,” Blair said. “Because she called it casual, and I don’t buy it for a second.”
He laughed under his breath. “Neither do I.”
Blair shifted her weight, leaning her forearms against the railing. “She does this thing where she pretends she’s being very chill about something she’s clearly already emotionally invested in.”
“That’s generous,” Alex said. “Matt’s been like that too. Says he’s keeping things light, then disappears to go to her the second she walks into a room.”
She smiled to herself. “That tracks.”
They stood there for a moment, watching the crowd ebb and flow, the two people in question still nowhere to be seen.
“Best friends tend to see it first,” Alex added. “Everyone else just catches up later.”
Blair huffed a soft laugh. “She’s going to deny it until she physically can’t.”
“And then pretend it was obvious the whole time.”
The conversation settled again, easier now. Like something had clicked into place. Blair felt herself relax against the railing, the earlier tension easing out of her shoulders.
“She thinks I need to be more social,” Blair said finally, the words coming out softer than intended.
Alex leaned his elbows against the railing. “Do you?”
Blair rolled her shoulders, loosening muscles she hadn’t realized were tight. “I think I’m social enough. I just don’t like performing.”
“Small talk. Smiling at people I’ll never see again. Pretending I care what someone does for a living when I already know I’ll forget the second they walk away.” She glanced over at him. “Surely in your… line of work, you know what I mean. It gets old.”
He nodded slowly. “That part is exhausting. Can’t really escape it, though.”
The music shifted behind them, something slower. Someone nearby let out a too-loud laugh. Blair resisted the urge to turn around, fixing her gaze back to the skyline instead. On the way the lights blurred together like constellations that she wouldn’t ever learn the names of.
“She’s going to interrogate me later,” Blair said. “Ask what you’re like. If you were nice. If I had fun.”
Blair huffed out a quiet laugh, already shaking her head slightly. “Honestly? I’ll probably say I spoke too much about myself and feel bad about the whole thing later.” She shifted her stance, one foot hooking around the other, eyes still fixed on the skyline. “I do this thing where I try to explain myself so people don’t misunderstand me, and then halfway through I realize I’ve said way more than necessary.” She glanced at him briefly, wincing. “Which is ironic, because I hate it when other people do that.”
The words kept coming before she could stop them. “So I’ll tell her you were nice, and normal, and that I didn’t embarrass myself too badly. Even though I probably am right now.” She pressed her lips together, finally cutting herself off. “Sorry.”
Alex watched her with an expression that wasn’t amused or overwhelmed. Just attentive. “I don’t think you’re embarrassing yourself,” he said. “You’re just being honest.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that meant to make me feel better?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe it’s something you need to hear.”
A brief silence settled between them again, lighter this time. Alex glanced over his shoulder toward the makeshift bar at the far end of the rooftop, where a small line had formed.
“I’ve been here nearly half an hour,” he said, “and I still don’t have a drink in my hand.”
Blair looked at him. “You’re right. That feels… incorrect for this setting.”
“Exactly.” He smiled, then pushed off the railing, nodding toward the bar. “You want one? Might help you with that overthinking issue.”
She hesitated, more out of habit than disinterest, then sighed softly. “You’re suggesting alcohol would be a solution to that?”
“I’m suggesting a drink,” he corrected. “The solution part is optional.”
That earned a smile from her, reluctant but real. “Alright,” she said. “One drink. For… research purposes.”
Later. How much later, Blair wasn’t entirely sure. The night had softened around the edges.
The music felt less like something she had to tolerate and more like something that simply existed around them. The crowd had thinned in places and thickened in others, people migrating in loose patterns as the drinks kept coming. Blair had abandoned the idea of keeping count somewhere after the second one. Maybe the third.
She leaned her hip against the bar, glass sweating cold into her palm, and tried very hard to focus on anything other than the fact that she felt lighter. Warmer. Definitely drunk.
Alex was still beside her. Still calm. Still unfairly steady for someone who had also been drinking, though she’d noticed he paced himself.
Don’t mention it, she reminded herself for what felt like the tenth time that night. Don’t bring it up. Don’t be that person. She took another sip instead.
They’d been talking about nothing especially important. Places they’d been, places they hadn’t. The strange sameness of cities at night. Blair found herself laughing more easily than usual, words slipping out without the usual internal filter she relied on so heavily.
She tilted her head, squinting at him slightly. “You know what’s funny?”
Alex glanced at her, already smiling like he suspected it might not be funny at all. “Dangerous way to start a sentence.”
“No, no,” she waved him off, nearly knocking her glass off the bar before steadying it. “I mean, I know I said I don’t perform, but I think alcohol has decided I’m a liar.”
He laughed quietly. “It has that effect.”
She nodded solemnly, as if this was very serious information. Another pause stretched between them, comfortable and unguarded.
And then, despite every internal warning—
“I’m not supposed to mention that you're like, a cool… lead singer guy,” she said.
She froze, the words having landed fully formed before she could stop them.
Blair groaned, dropping her head back towards the bar. “I literally told myself not to. Like. Repeatedly.”
He turned toward her now, amused but gentle. “You’re doing fine.”
“I’m really not,” she said, lifting her head again, eyes glossy. “Because now my brain is doing that thing where it panics and fills the silence with the worst possible option.” She stared at him for half a second, like she was watching the thought fully form and was already regretting it.
“You made that one song,” she said.
Alex’s eyebrows lifted just slightly. “I’ve made many. You’ll have to be specific.”
“The really loud one.” She started to move her hands, miming some sort of drumming.
He let out a soft laugh, already knowing where this was going. “I feel like I should stop you.”
“I know,” she said quickly, “stop makin’ the eyes at me—”
“Alright,” Alex cut in immediately, a hand raised in surrender, laughing under his breath. “Yup. You’ve got it. That’s enough.”
She giggled. “Was pretty accurate, no?”
“Sure. And I’m putting a stop to it before it becomes a full performance,” he added. “For everyone’s sake.”
“Do you not like that song? Isn’t it, like, your most popular?”
“Uh, it’s… nostalgic,” he said carefully.
“That’s worse,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead. “That means it haunts you.”
She laughed, removing her hand from her face and leaning her elbow on the bar to steady herself. “In my defense, it’s one of the only ones I know.”
He shook his head, amused. “You were doing alright until that.”
“I was doing great until that,” she corrected. “This is what happens when you give me more than two drinks.”
“I’ll remember that,” he said. “For future reference.”
By the time the party started shedding people instead of gaining them, the night had slipped into that hazy in-between where nothing felt urgent anymore.
The crowd had thinned itself out without anyone formally deciding it was over. A few people were still scattered across the rooftop, shoes abandoned, conversations looping back on themselves. Someone was asleep on a couch that was two sizes too small. The music had been turned down to something lazy and indistinct, more background noise than anything else.
Blair was pretty sure she’d lost her jacket.
She was also pretty sure she didn’t care.
“Okay,” she said, squinting at the stairwell door like it was a challenge. “I think Breana said she’d be… somewhere.”
Alex hummed beside her. He’d been swaying slightly, not enough to be obvious, but enough that Blair had noticed. “That’s incredibly specific.” He replied.
“I’m an artist,” she said seriously. “I work in vibes.”
He nodded once. “Yeah. Sounds familiar.”
They made it down the first flight of stairs without incident. The second one was more questionable. Blair grabbed the railing, laughing under her breath for no reason she could explain.
“I swear, this building is moving,” she said.
“It’s not,” Alex replied. Then, after a beat, “But I admire your confidence.”
At the bottom of the stairs, the hallway was dimmer, quieter. The music was too far away to be heard anymore. Blair followed the sound of voices nearby, toward one of the open doors.
She pushed it gently, then froze.
Breana was pressed back against the wall, Matt standing far too close for anything resembling casual. His head was dipped toward her neck, Breana’s hands tangled in the collar of his shirt. They weren’t doing anything graphic, but they were definitely doing something that was not meant to be walked in on.
There was a half-second where no one moved.
Then Breana looked up, laughing immediately. “Oh my god.”
Matt turned, eyes widening slightly. “Oh—”
“Nope. Nope. I’m blind. I didn’t see anything. This is on me.” Blair turned her shoulders away slightly.
Alex, standing just behind her, let out a quiet, helpless laugh. “We should go.”
“Yes,” Blair agreed fervently. “Quickly. I don’t need this memory.”
Breana was already grinning, completely unbothered. “Maybe you do. This is character development.”
“Absolutely not,” Blair said, turning around and nearly walking straight into Alex instead. She steadied herself by grabbing his arm without thinking.
Matt cleared his throat, attempting dignity. “We thought everyone had left by now.”
“We were gone,” Blair said, waving her other hand vaguely. “Like… spiritually.”
“Spiritually?” Alex echoed, brows knitting slightly, clearly unsure how that applied.
“Yes,” she said firmly. “Spiritually gone. Physically, unfortunately, still here.”
Breana waved them off. “Go. Please. Before this gets worse for you.”
“Too late,” Blair muttered, already tugging Alex back toward the hallway.
Once the door was firmly shut behind them, Blair burst out laughing, bending forward with her hands on her knees.
“I told you,” she said between laughs. “I told you it wasn’t casual.”
Alex leaned against the wall, laughing too now, head tipped back. “I don’t think anyone in that room ever believed it was.”
She straightened slowly, still a little unsteady. “Well,” she said, exhaling. “That sobered me up. A little.”
She looked up at him, eyes unfocused but bright. “Okay. Maybe not at all.”
They stood there for a moment longer than necessary, the hallway quiet again.
Alex shifted his weight, glancing back toward the stairwell. “Well,” he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, “that was technically my ride.”
“Mm.” He nodded once. “Seems he’s… otherwise occupied.”
She let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Yeah. I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”
“Doesn’t sound like it.” He pulled his phone from his pocket as they started toward the stairs, already tapping at the screen. “I’ll sort something out.”
Blair smiled. “Very responsible of you.”
By the time they reached the front door, he’d finished calling a cab, slipping the phone back into his pocket.
They stepped outside together, the night air cooler than the rooftop, sobering in the slightest, most unhelpful way. The front steps of Blair and Breana’s apartment building were wide and empty, concrete still warm from the day. Alex sat down first, elbows resting on his knees. Blair followed a second later, close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The street was quiet. A car passed somewhere down the block. Laughter drifted faintly from an open window above them.
Alex glanced down at his phone once more. “Fifteen minutes.”
Blair glanced over at him, then smiled. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”
He looked at her, easy and unbothered. “I think I can manage that.”
They settled into conversation again without really deciding to.
Alex exhaled, keeping his elbows on his knees. “I always forget how strange parties get after midnight.”
Blair glanced at him. “Strange how?”
“Like everyone’s telling the truth for the first time,” he said, “or lying harder than they have all night.”
She smiled at that, thoughtfully. “Poetic. Which one were we?”
He tilted his head slightly, considering. “You? Truth. Me? Still deciding.”
Blair laughed softly, drawing her knees closer. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
For a moment, they just listened to the city again.
“You know,” Alex went on, quieter now, “I used to think these nights were supposed to mean something. Like if you stayed out late enough, something important would happen.”
“And now they just feel like pauses,” he said. “Little gaps where you get to sit next to someone and not perform.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”
He glanced over at her, then did a very obvious double take, the kind that looked less intentional and more like his brain had lagged half a second behind his eyes. He leaned back on his hands, studying her in a way that wasn’t invasive, just curious, like he was piecing something together.
“Okay,” he said finally, “new question.”
Blair turned her head toward him, a slow, knowing smile tugging at her mouth, mimicking his earlier words. “Dangerous way to start a sentence.”
“How are you still this put-together?” he asked, gesturing vaguely at her like the answer might be floating somewhere between them. “It’s late. We’re sitting on concrete. I personally witnessed you almost eat it on a staircase.”
She laughed softly, drawing her knees closer to her chest and tucking her arms around them. “Almost is doing a lot of heavy lifting there.”
“Does it?” She tipped her head, pretending to think. “Because I feel like the laws of drunk physics are pretty unforgiving.”
He shook his head, amused. “I don’t know. You seem… surprisingly lucid now.”
“I think I hit the sweet spot,” she said. “You know, where you’re drunk enough to stop overthinking, but not drunk enough to start confessing your deepest traumas to strangers.”
His eyebrows lifted. “That is an extremely specific window.”
He laughed, a real one, shoulders loosening. “Dangerous territory.”
She glanced sideways at him, voice light but curious. “For you or for me?”
“Yes,” he said without missing a beat.
She snorted, tipping her head back for a second before looking at him again. “Okay, fair. But what about you? You’re holding it together suspiciously well for someone who’s just as drunk as me. I’ve noticed that.”
He did a half-shrug. “Years of practice,” he said. “I’ve gotten very good at looking like I know what I’m doing.”
“Ask me again in the morning.”
She smiled. “That’s not reassuring at all.”
“It’s not,” he said, glancing away briefly, then back. “But the illusion works pretty well.”
They went quiet again for a moment, then he nudged her foot lightly with his shoe. “For the record,” he added, quieter now, “I’m kind of glad my ride ditched me.”
She looked at him, her expression still soft. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “Think I would’ve missed this.”
Blair blinked at him, shaking her head with a light laugh. “That was dangerously close to being cheesy. Wow.”
“A little,” she admitted, still smiling anyway. “But I’ll allow it. It’s late, and the vibes are forgiving.”
He grinned. “I knew I liked your system.”
“I charge extra for emotional sincerity.”
“Good to know,” he said. “I’ll budget accordingly.”
The sound of an engine pulling up cut through the quiet, tires crunching softly against the curb. Headlights swept across the front of the building, briefly illuminating the steps where they sat.
Alex glanced up, then back at her. “That’s me.”
Blair followed his gaze, squinting slightly. “Wow,” she said. “Right on cue. Very cinematic.”
“I try to keep my exits dramatic,” he replied, pushing himself to his feet a little unsteadily before offering her a hand. “It’s a habit.”
She took it, laughing as she stood. “Figures.”
The driver lowered his window, clearing his throat politely. Alex lifted a hand in acknowledgment, then hesitated, like he wasn’t quite ready to go just yet.
“Well,” he said, rocking back on his heels, hands slipping into his pockets. “This was… unexpected. In a good way.”
Blair nodded, suddenly aware of how close they were standing now. “Yeah.”
“I guess I’ll be seeing you around?”
She smiled. “I’d be disappointed if I didn’t.”
His grin widened, his expression pleased and a little soft. He walked down the steps, turning to face her as he walked backward to the car.
“Get home safe,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Careful. Now you’re the one being dangerously sincere.”
She scoffed jokingly. “Whatever. I told you, it’s the vibes out here.” She stepped back onto the stoop, watching as Alex got into the car, giving her a quick wave goodbye. The cab pulled away, headlights disappearing down the street.
Blair stood there for a moment longer than necessary, hands tucked into her sleeves, smiling to herself before going back inside.
The morning after, the kitchen smelled like burnt coffee and poor decisions.
Blair stood barefoot on the cold tile, still in yesterday’s shirt, hair pulled back in a loose knot that was doing very little actual work. She leaned against the counter, mug cupped in both hands like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
Breana was already at the table, curled into herself, an oversized pajama shirt hanging off one shoulder.
Blair squinted at her. “Where’s Matt?”
Breana lifted her mug carefully. “Gone.”
“Gone like… stepped out for air?” Blair asked. “Or gone like he vanished into the night before emotional intimacy set in?”
Breana snorted, laughing slightly as she replied. “Left early. Had stuff to do.”
“Of course he did,” Blair said. “Men love a clean escape.”
Breana laughed again, then immediately winced. “Please don’t make me laugh yet.”
Blair took a sip of her coffee and made a face. “This is bad.”
“And yet you’re still drinking it.”
“I’m weak. I need the caffeine.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the fridge humming softly.
Breana shifted in her chair. “So.”
Blair sighed. “Here it comes.”
Blair blinked. “What about him?”
“You two spent a lot of time together,” Breana said carefully. “Like. A lot.”
Blair shrugged, trying to be casual. “We talked.”
“Yeah, talking is usually something you do at parties.”
Breana smiled faintly. “Fair.” She took a sip of her coffee, then added, “You didn’t look uncomfortable, though. That’s rare for you.”
Blair considered that. “I wasn’t.”
“Noted,” Breana said, not bothering to push further,
“You know I did a music video for them, right?” Breana said.
“Yes,” Blair replied. “You remind me every time their name comes up.”
Breana ignored her. “The song was called Suck It and See.”
Blair looked up sharply. “I’m sorry. The song was called what?”
“I know,” Breana said quickly. “I thought the same thing.”
“That is wildly inappropriate.”
“It’s British,” Breana said. “Apparently it doesn’t mean that.”
Blair narrowed her eyes. “That feels like a lie they tell Americans.”
“It’s like,” Breana continued, “you never know if you don’t try. You have to suck it and see.”
Blair leaned back against the counter again, processing. “I don’t think that’s better. Especially for an album they’re recording in America.”
Breana laughed again, softer this time. “I said the exact same thing on set.”
Blair’s phone buzzed against the counter. She glanced down out of reflex, then froze just a fraction longer than necessary.
Breana noticed immediately. “What?”
“Nothing,” Blair said too quickly, turning it face-down. “Spam.”
“Mmhmm.” Breana let it slide, shifting in her chair. “Anyway. Matt was telling me something last night.”
Blair took another sip of coffee and winced. “Was it useful or just random ranting?”
“Surprisingly useful,” Breana said. “They didn’t actually get to spend that much time in California when they recorded their last album.”
“Didn’t they just record this one here?”
“Parts of it,” Breana said. “But for the last album, it was rushed. In and out. A lot of it was desert, not… living here.”
“So this time,” Breana continued, “they came back because they actually liked it. The space. The pace. The weather.”
Blair let out a laugh. “Everyone who doesn’t live in California thinks we’re spoiled by the weather. Meanwhile, everyone who does live here won’t shut up about how much they hate it.”
Breana smiled. “Matt said they’re probably going to stay out here for a while. Record the next record here too, after Suck It and See.”
Blair lifted an eyebrow. “Already planning the next one?”
“Apparently,” Breana said. “Different influences, different people.”
Breana hesitated just long enough to be annoying. “Josh Homme.”
Blair straightened. “Wait. What?”
“Queens of the Stone Age Josh Homme,” Breana clarified, grinning. “They met a while back and he helped them with recording out here before. He helped on a few songs. Stayed in touch for this record and probably the next as well.”
Blair stared at her. “You’re serious.”
“I watched Matt casually drop his name like it was normal,” Breana said. “I almost choked.”
“That is so cool,” Blair said, without hesitation.
Breana took another sip of her coffee. “Anyway. Because of all that, Matt invited me to a Queens of the Stone Age show in a few weeks.”
“Yeah,” Breana said, “Dolby Theatre.”
“And,” Breana added, watching her, “I told him I might bring you.”
Breana shrugged. “Because you’d actually appreciate it. And because he said you were cool.”
Blair scoffed. “He doesn’t even know me.”
“But you’re my best friend!” Breana said.
“I don’t want to be a third wheel.” She sighed.
“You won’t be,” Breana said easily. “You’d survive. It’ll be more fun with you.”
Blair hesitated. Thought of the night before. Breana said you won’t be a third wheel, like it was a given. Like there was already someone else in the picture, already accounted for.
Blair looked down at her coffee, the corner of her mouth lifting before she could stop it. “...Okay,” she said.
Breana smiled. “Just, suck it and see.”
Blair groaned. “I still hate that.”
Time didn’t lurch forward so much as it eased into motion.
Blair and Alex didn’t make a big thing out of staying in touch. No declarations, no dramatic follow-ups. Just a message the next afternoon, something casual, almost careless. A shared joke about the party. A song recommendation.
From there, it became a rhythm. Texts that drifted in and out of the day. A coffee that turned into a walk. A walk that turned into dinner because neither of them felt like going home yet. They didn’t label it. They didn’t try to define the shape of it. It lived comfortable in the in-between, where expectations were low and curiosity did most of the work.
Alex was easy in a way Blair wasn’t used to. Very present. He asked questions and seemed genuinely interested in the answers. He remembered things. Small things. What she ordered the first time they went out. Which albums she defended too passionately. The way she hated being rushed into opinions.
There were moments where Blair caught herself watching him instead of listening, noticing the way he smiled before he laughed, or how he tilted his head when he was thinking. It unsettled her, how natural it felt. How little she wanted to pull away.
They didn’t rush into anything physical. Not because of restraint so much as comfort. The space between them was intentional, like something worth preserving.
By the time Breana’s concert invite circled back around, Blair didn’t pretend she was neutral about it.
The night of the show arrived warm and clear, the kind of Los Angeles evening people romanticized from afar. They rode together, Blair in the backseat next to Alex, Breana and Matt in the front. Music played low. Conversation drifted. Alex’s knee brushed hers when the car took too sharp a turn, and neither of them moved away.
When they arrived, the venue buzzed with energy already simmering, that electric pre-show adrenaline that sat just under your skin. Breana disappeared briefly, hugged by familiar faces, pulled into quick conversations. Matt introduced both girls around like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Backstage, where they were watching the show from, Josh Homme was taller than Blair expected. Somehow both imposing and disarmingly casual. He shook her hand, smiled like he meant it, asked her name like he might actually remember it later. The rest of the band followed, easy and warm.
Blair clocked how surreal it all felt without needing to say it out loud.
The lights dimmed and the crowd roared. Sound flooded the space. The music hit her in the chest, familiar and new all at once, and she felt herself grinning despite the volume.
Alex leaned in close to say something she didn’t catch. She laughed anyway.
The bass from the speakers vibrated through the floor, low and steady, like a second pulse. Crew members hovered at the edges, half-watching, half-working, but most of the space was loose and unguarded. Dim lighting, equipment cases pushed aside, and a few friends of the band grouped near the monitors.
Blair leaned against a railing near the side of the stage, watching the crowd. The noise hit her in waves, louder than she’d expected back here. It made everything feel a little unreal.
Breana was already gone. Not physically, just… distracted. Matt had her pulled close, one arm slung low around her waist. The other hand loose at her hip. They moved together without thinking about it, swaying in time with the music, laughing into each other’s ears, Breana tipped her head back at something he said, hair brushing his jaw, and Matt grinned.
When the opening notes of Make It Wit Chu played, something in the air shifted. Things felt slower and heavier.
Breana laughed, grabbing Matt’s shirt and pulling him closer, moving with the beat like it was instinct. They weren’t subtle about it. Breana’s hips rolled, Matt’s hands followed, and neither of them cared who was watching.
Blair felt it before she admitted it. The way the music crept under her skin. The warmth of the room. The sheer ease of the moment.
Alex stepped closer beside her, close enough that their arms brushed, and she didn’t move away.
He glanced at Breana and Matt, then back at Blair, the corner of his mouth lifting like he was trying not to make a comment.
“They’re committed,” he said.
Blair laughed softly. “They always are.”
The song continued, Blair shifting her weight and letting herself move with the music. Just a little at first. A sway of her hips. A roll of her shoulders.
He didn’t say anything. Just turned toward her, matching her rhythm, but not touching yet. The space between them felt charged.
Blair glanced up at him, brows lifting slightly, like she was checking something.
He met her gaze, his expression relaxed but attentive, like he was waiting for her to decide.
She stepped closer, back to his chest, the movement natural, unforced. The bass thumped through her, and she let it guide her, hips moving in slow, confident circles.
Alex inhaled sharply behind her, hands hovering at her sides for half a second before settling lightly at her hips with a steady grip.
They didn’t pretend it was subtle. Not really. Not with the way his hands tightened around her waist, or how she let herself move with him, matching the beat, feeding off the energy pouring off Breana and Matt beside them. It wasn’t rushed or messy. Just charged and controlled, like both of them were very aware of where they were and how easily it could tip into something else.
When the song ended, Blair felt breathless and slightly dazed. They didn’t move apart right away.
After the show, they ended up at a bar nearby. It was the kind of place that didn’t care who anyone was. They had a few more drinks, nothing counted, nothing tracked. Blair perched on a barstool with her knee brushing Alex’s thigh. Alex leaned in when he talked, voice low, hand resting on the small of her back.
The ride back to Blair’s apartment was quieter, Breana and Matt having decided to stay at the bar a little longer, leaving Blair and Alex to head out on their own.
Streetlights slid across the windows, flashing over Alex’s face. Blair peeked over at Alex for a moment, then looked away, smiling to herself.
When the car pulled up in front of her building, neither of them moved.
“Well,” Blair said, reaching for the door handle and then stopping, looking back at him. “I had a nice time.”
Alex laughed under his breath, smiling. “Yeah. Me too.”
The kiss came easily. Unrushed at first, then deeper.Alex’s hand slid to her waist, Blair leaning closer.
Alex shifted, clearly getting an idea. Blair’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
The seat suddenly lurched backward with a loud mechanical whine. They both flinched.
“What are you doing?” Blair blurted out, pulling back just enough to stare at him.
Alex froze, halfway reclined, blinking at her. “Are you being serious right now?”
There was a beat where Blair’s brain caught up. The angle. The implication. The audacity?
Then she burst out laughing.
“Oh my god,” she said, covering her face. “No. Absolutely not.”
Alex stared at her, then laughed too, surprised and helpless. “Not even a little?”
“I am not having sex with you for the first time in a car,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t care how cinematic tonight’s been.”
He sighed dramatically, fixing the seat, which jolted again on the way up. “Worth a try.”
“You didn’t seem to mind earlier.”
“I didn’t,” she admitted. “Just… maybe not in a car.”
He smiled, warm and unbothered. “Fair.”
They kissed again, slower this time, unhurried but passionate. Alex’s hand stayed at her waist, steady. Blair’s fingers curled into the front of his jacket.
She pulled back first, breath shallow, eyes still on his mouth.
“I should go inside,” she said.
“Yeah,” he replied. “You should.”
She lingered, her hands still on his jacket. Long enough that it became obvious neither of them believed the night was over.
Blair exhaled, then smiled, something decisive settling into her expression. “You could… come up. If you want.”
Alex looked at her for a second, like he was making sure he wasn’t imagining it. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I am.”
They made it upstairs to Blair and Breana’s apartment without much talking, leaving their shoes by the door. Their hands found their familiar places on each other. Both with surprising ease for something so new. The apartment was quiet, dim, the smell of an old candle still filling the room.
In her bedroom, Alex kissed her again, deeper now, Blair pressing back without hesitation. She laughed softly when he bumped the edge of the bed, then tugged him closer by his shoulders.
“This is happening fast,” he murmured.
She smiled against his mouth. “We can slow down.”
“Good,” she said, tugging his jacket from his shoulders and tossing it aside, her smile never leaving her face.
He kissed her again, firmer now, still careful. They both shed their clothes piece by piece, unhurried but inevitable. Blair’s blouse slipped away, the cool air raising goosebumps along her skin. Alex’s shirt followed, discarded near the bed as their bare chests pressed together.
His hands slid down to her thighs. He pulled back just long enough to breathe, then lifted her easily, turning with her and laying her back onto the bed before following her down, bracing his weight so he didn’t crowd her.
His mouth found her chest, warm and intent.
Blair arched beneath him, a soft gasp leaving her lips.
One hand cupped her bare breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple as he took the other into his mouth. Her hands moved instinctively to his hair, fingers threading through the already messy strands, tugging just enough to make him groan against her skin.
He started to kiss his way back up to her lips, his kisses messier now, needier, the careful calm he’d carried all night finally giving way to how naturally their bodies fit together.
His mouth lingered at her neck, unhurried but intent, like he was learning her by feeling alone. Blair’s breath caught as his lips traced slow paths along her skin, each touch deliberate enough to make her acutely aware of everything else falling away.
“You okay?” he murmured softly against her skin.
She nodded immediately, fingers tightening slightly in his hair. “Yeah… don’t stop.”
A faint smile brushed his lips against her shoulder. “Wasn’t planning to.”
Her hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, nails grazing lightly, testing. He responded instantly, a quiet sound in his throat. She smiled, her hips shifting beneath him.
“Blair,” he murmured, the way he said her name already different than before, his hips gently jerking forward with hers.
She gave him space without thinking about it, her body answering before her mind did. The bed creaked softly as he adjusted better in between her legs, one of his arms braced beside her head.
His hips pressed forward again as he lined himself up, his breath warm against her neck. “Still okay?” he asked, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes.
Blair held his gaze, steady despite the nervous excitement fluttering through her chest. “Yes. I promise I’ll tell you if it’s not.”
He nodded once, thumb brushing lightly along her hip in reassurance. “Good.”
Blair responded by wiggling under him, already wet and eager as the tip of him nudged against her entrance.
He paused, his eyes locking onto hers again in the dim light, a silent question that spoke with trust and hunger all at once.
Blair answered with a single nod.
With a low groan, he pushed in slowly, inch by inch, filling her in a way that made her gasp, the stretch both tender and overwhelming.
Her walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper as their lips connected again. His movements stayed careful at first, savoring the way her body welcomed him. The bed shifted beneath them again as their rhythms slowly synced.
A soft sound slipped from her before she could stop it, her head tipping back slightly.
His expression shifted, focused, attentive. “That feel alright?”
“More than alright,” she breathed, her hands pressing into his shoulders as if grounding herself. “You’re good at this.”
He huffed a quiet laugh against her collarbone. “That might be the nicest review I’ve ever gotten.”
“Well,” she said, voice slightly shaky but playful, “don’t get cocky.”
His thrusts grew steadier and deeper.
Blair’s hands roamed his back, with her nails leaving faint, lingering trails. Her breaths came in sharp, uneven pants, matching the increasing pace of his hips.
Her breath stuttered as she held onto him, her voice smaller now but certain. “Don’t stop.”
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, steady and grounding, his forehead brushing hers for a second. “You’re alright.”
The sensation built low in her body, tightening with every shift and press between them, the friction and closeness winding her closer with each passing moment.
The feeling built between them until Blair tightened her grip on his shoulders, his name slipping out as she reached her peak.
He followed a moment later, his forehead resting against hers as his movement slowed to a stop, a quiet breath leaving him that sounded more relieved than anything else. He stayed there for a second, holding himself up carefully over her.
He stayed close, breathing unevenly as he searched her face. “You good?”
She nodded, smiling tiredly, brushing damp hair away from his forehead. “Yeah. You?”
“Yeah,” he said, a small, honest laugh escaping him. “Definitely.”
After a moment, he shifted, lowering himself down on the bed next to her. His arms wrapped around her as they both caught their breath. Blair let out a slow exhale, her body relaxing under his touch.
They stayed like that for a while, quiet and close, listening to each other breathe as everything slowly settled.
Morning came slowly, filtered through thin curtains that turned the sunlight pale and hazy across Blair’s bedroom.
Blair woke first, though it took her a moment to realize she was awake at all. She laid still, eyes half-open, staring at the soft blur of light stretching across the ceiling. Her body felt heavy in that lingering, pleasantly sore way that made her aware of every inch of herself at once.
Then she became aware of the weight beside her.
Alex was asleep on his stomach, one arm draped loosely across her waist like he had fallen there without thinking and never bothered to move. His mop of hair was flattened on one side, his face relaxed in a way she hadn’t seen before.
Blair studied him for a moment longer than she meant to. There was something strangely grounding about it.
His hand shifted slightly against her side, fingers flexing once as he stirred.
“Are you staring at me?” he murmured, voice rough with sleep. His eyes slightly opened, then shut again.
Blair didn’t even try to lie. “Yes.”
He huffed out a faint laugh, eyes blinking open again slowly. “That’s unsettling.”
“You drool,” she said calmly.
He squinted at her, then dragged a hand down his face before rolling onto his back beside her. The sheet slipped slightly, and he pulled it back up absentmindedly, like modesty had arrived a few seconds late.
They laid there in silence for a moment, both staring up at the ceiling like neither of them wanted to be the first to start a conversation.
“Well,” he said quietly, “good morning.”
Blair smiled faintly. “Morning.”
Another pause settled between them. Not awkward, just aware.
“How’s your head?” he asked.
She bit back a snort. “Surprisingly intact,” she said. “You?”
“I’ve had worse mornings.”
She laughed softly, turning onto her side to face him fully, one arm tucked under her pillow. He turned his head toward her in response, their faces closer now, close enough that she could see the faint crease on his cheek from the pillow.
Neither of them spoke for a few seconds.
“This feels… different from the past weeks.” he said.
Blair traced an absent pattern along the seam of the sheet between them. “Yeah. Just last week you tried to flirt with me by explaining how American music is inferior to British music.”
“You were deeply passionate about it.”
“I stand by that argument.”
She smiled, then softened slightly. “We’ve been sort of building toward this, though.”
He nodded once. “Yeah. I know.”
He reached out then, brushing a loose strand of hair back from her face, letting his fingers trail lightly along her temple before pulling his hand back, like he was debating whether to linger.
“You’re surprisingly calm about this,” he said, studying her expression.
Blair huffed a quiet laugh. “Give me time. I might spiral dramatically after coffee.”
She shifted slightly closer beneath the blanket, her voice softening without losing its teasing edge. “I’m not panicking because I don’t regret it.”
Something in his posture eased at that, subtle but noticeable.
“Good,” he said, quieter. Then, after a brief hesitation, “Neither do I.”
Blair’s expression warmed, her shoulders relaxing like she had been holding tension she had not fully noticed until it left.
He laughed quietly, shaking his head.
They stayed in bed longer than necessary, talking about small things that felt bigger simply because they were said there, in daylight, without distraction. At some point Blair forced herself to get up to make coffee, pulling on an oversized shirt and underwear before she went. Alex followed a few minutes later, putting his clothes from the night before back on.
The weeks after blurred into something steady and quietly consistent.
Alex split his time between rehearsals, interviews, and finishing promotion around Suck It and See, which officially was released in early June. Blair found herself drifting into his world more easily than she expected. Not as an accessory or as someone hovering on the edges. Just there, watching rehearsal sitting in studio corners, and photographing things she had not originally planned to photograph.
The other guys in the band welcomed her too. Nick started waving at her like she had always been there. Jamie asked her opinion on gifts for Katie, his girlfriend, more than once. Matt alternated between teasing Alex relentlessly and attempting to recruit Blair into documenting behind-the-scenes chaos he insisted would one day be valuable.
Breana, of course, was impossible about all of it.
She and Matt slide into something official and obvious. They argued like they had known each other for years and disappeared together after shows with suspicious regularity. Blair lost count of how many times she continued to accidentally walk in on them mid-kiss and immediately walked back out again.
It became normal and comfortable.
The haircut happened almost by accident.
They were back in Sheffield for a short break between touring legs. Blair had been editing photos on Alex’s couch while he stood in front of the mirror, running his fingers through hair that had gotten longer and heavier over the past months.
“It’s getting ridiculous,” he muttered, tilting his head.
Blair glanced up. “You say that every time you look in a mirror.”
“You meant it last time too.”
He narrowed his eyes at his reflection, then at her. “You are not helping.”
She grinned, setting her things aside and standing, crossing the room until she was behind him. She lifted sections of his hair thoughtfully, studying the shape of it, the way it naturally wanted to fall.
“You should cut it,” she said finally. “But not short short.”
“Leave length on top,” she said, already gesturing like she was sculpting it. “Push it up. Something sharper. Cleaner.”
He studied her through the mirror, skeptical but curious. “You’ve thought about this.”
“I photograph you constantly. Of course I have.”
He laughed under his breath.
“Trust me,” she said, nudging his shoulder. “You’d look good.”
When they got back to Los Angeles, he showed up at her apartment after the appointment.
Blair opened the door mid sentence, already talking, and then stopped.
His hair was shorter along the sides, tapered cleanly. The top was left longer, styled upward into a loose, structured quiff that made his face look sharper, older somehow, but still unmistakably him. There was gel in it. A little excessive, but it held the shape.
He watched her reaction with quiet amusement.
Blair blinked once, then twice.
“That,” she said slowly, “is unfair.”
“Unfairly good or unfairly alarming?”
His grin spread, pleased in a way he tried not to show too openly.
She stepped closer, reaching up and carefully running her fingers through the front section. The gel resisted slightly before shifting back into place.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “I really do.”
He leaned down slightly, voice lowering. “Good. I was hoping you would.”
By the time touring resumed, the look stuck. So did Blair.
She traveled when she could. Stayed home when she had to. Photographed everything in between.
After a show, backstage chaos swallowed them as soon as the set ended. Crew members moved quickly. Voices overlapped. A crew member, Jane, shoved a bottle of water into Alex’s hand as he stepped offstage. He gave her a quick nod of thanks without breaking stride.
He found Blair almost immediately.
“You taking evidence or souvenirs?” he asked, breath still uneven as he looked at the camera in her hand.
‘Documentation,” she corrected, lifting the camera again.
He leaned one shoulder against the wall, his styled hair slightly collapsed from sweat and movement.
Blair snapped one picture. Then another.
“You look happy,” he said after a moment, reaching out to lower the camera gently from her face.
He studied her, satisfied, and she quickly lifted the camera again to capture the exact expression before it disappeared.
His hand rested lightly against her waist as crew members rolled cases past them. Down the hallway, Matt’s voice echoed, followed by Breana laughing loudly enough to carry through the venue.
“Come on,” Alex said quietly.
She slipped her fingers into his without hesitation.
They walked toward the rest of the group together. Stage noise fading behind them. The camera bumped lightly against Blair’s hip with every step, filled with images she had not looked through yet.
Whatever she’d captured could wait.
a/n: omg hi… ik this is kind of all over the place but i genuinely had a lot of fun with it. i gotta thank my girl lou for letting me borrow her brain when i got stuck. and for introducing me to make it wit chu. and ofc, wife junedenim i luv u and thanks for inspiring me and letting me steal ur fic layout
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