I suppose it came out as a more New Year’s gift than a Christmas one--and im so sorry for being so very late! but either way, heyo @niekra-art ! I was your secret santa for the @dmmdsecretsanta2k16!
Very-very late gift, more like late New Year one than Christmas. Aoba and Noiz having some winter fun! I hope you will like it. Again, I’m very sorry for being late with it! Hope you have a wonderful winter :)
I shouldn’t have color this…. BUT ANYWAYS I’M REALLY SORRY FOR THE LATENESS BUT HERE’S MY GIFT TO @wolfwithatophat THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME T~T FOR THE @dmmdsecretsanta2k16 I really hope you like it…
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
@kaleidoscope13579, at last your Secret Santa gift! I hope you like it!
Rating: explicit
Words: 6600
Summary: Captain Noiz commands a cargo airship with first need supplies in times of war, besides a bit of smuggling. Aoba runs a soup-kitchen with his granny and tries to take care of the less fortunate inhabitants of Midorijima's Old District. Steampunk AU.
happy holidays @reisponsibility! I’m so sorry for how late this gift is, I’m barely making the deadline as is… regardless, I hope you like your gift! it’s some clearao fluff in an au where none of the events of the game happened and Clear is a piano player and Aoba a singer, so please enjoy~
“I don’t understand why you always get so nervous.”
“I can’t help it,” Aoba sighed, leaning against the bar. “Singing in front of a lot of people…I’m not even good talking to people one on one.”
“You’re never going to make it big with an attitude like that,” Mizuki laughed, shining another glass and placing it on the pile. “Which is a shame, because with a voice like that, you could fill Midorijima’s biggest auditorium.”
“You flatter me,” Aoba rolled his eyes, although he couldn’t deny he was at least a little bit flattered by his friend’s comment. “The best I can do now is get creepy guys yelling at me from the street…”
“Hey, I get people calling every week after you perform asking about you. You’re more popular than you think.” Mizuki leaned back and surveyed the bar area. It was early morning, and there weren’t any customers, although he wouldn’t have been surprised if a stray customer came in asking for a tattoo. As both a tattoo parlor and relatively popular bar, the Black Needle got business all days, and at all hours– facilitated by its 24/7 policy and the fact that Mizuki slept in a loft above, meaning that he was available around the clock too.
“Really?” Aoba tried not to sound doubtful, although he also didn’t think Mizuki would lie to him. “Well, it’s all thanks to you that I’ve managed to get popular at all. Really, thanks for setting me up with gigs here all the time… otherwise, I’d be working at Heibon for the rest of my life.”
“You still might.” At that, Aoba gave Mizuki a shove, causing him to set aside his rag and the glass he was currently cleaning. “And I mean, you did get a couple jobs from those weird yakuza guys…”
“That doesn’t count, those were super sketchy.” Not that he hadn’t been grateful for Virus and Trip’s business offers, but Aoba had felt like he was at a sex show, with nothing but a bunch of men in suits watching him struggle his way through songs he’d never heard of. He’d gotten paid pretty well for it, but hadn’t accepted it since– Virus and Trip were known for engaging in rather shady dealings, so Aoba had thought it better not mix his business with theirs.
“You’re right, you should only stick to wholesome establishments like this.” Mizuki smiled wryly. He’d had more than a few run-ins with the police himself, being that the Black Needle was located in a part of Midorijima not exactly known for its low crime rates. Thankfully, he’d managed to avoid such encounters as of late, fortunate even more so for Aoba, who really didn’t need the police barging in during his performances and reminding him of his delinquent past.
“Anyways,” Mizuki continued. “Thanks for helping man the bar last night. You want to sleep upstairs until your performance tonight?”
“Well, I don’t have work and I don’t feel like walking home…You don’t have to tell me twice.” Aoba said, already making his way to Mizuki’s loft upstairs.
“Sweet dreams, Sleeping Beauty!” Mizuki called after him. “Or should I call you Ariel?”
“Ariel lost her voice, so I wouldn’t consider that the best-case scenario,” Aoba muttered, but by then, it was too late for Mizuki to hear.
Clear wasn’t even planning on going to a bar that night, it just happened.
A miracle, he would swear up and down later, or a sign of fate. But at the time, it was just a product of pure luck and his own screw-ups.
That particular night, warm and summery, his grandpa had sent him on an a couple of errands in the city. Clear was excited for any chance to leave their home on the outskirts of Midorijima and head further into the city, something his grandfather didn’t allow for a myriad of reasons including both his tendency to get distracted and his tendency to get lost.
Both of which happened to strike him this particular night.
However, up until that point, Clear’s track record had been good enough for his grandfather to send him into the city. And, to be fair, up until that point, he had completed all of his errands– he had collected all the mechanical parts and food items on the list, had dropped off all the letters and packages, and even turned in a few appliances for repair. Up until that point, everything had been going fine, until Clear got both distracted and lost.
But who was to blame him– Midorijima was a beautiful city, even moreso at night, where everything was ablaze in neon and glass, and the crowds of people weren’t quelled by the setting sun. In fact, though he had little experience to speak of, Clear almost thought that there were more people out and about at night than there were during the day, making him very curious as to what all was going on.
However, as he wandered the people-filled streets, following the smells of food and flashes of light and curves of brightly-lit streets and twisting alleyways, he eventually realized two things: it was late and he had no idea where he was.
Clear was not the type to panic, so panic he did not. Instead he directed his attention to a large group of people who seemed to know what they were doing– hopefully they would also provide directions. But before he could even get a word in, they all entered a small bar, whose name was displayed in bright neon: The Black Needle.
In fact, there seemed to be a lot of people heading in that particular direction, so Clear decided if he was going to get directions anywhere, it would be there. It didn’t seem like a bad place, either; not too big, but not cramped either, with its dark windows providing a sharp contrast to the neon emblazoned on its exterior.
When Clear entered, however, there was none of the chatter or pounding music he’d heard in the few bars he’d gone to; instead, a hush had fallen over the entire establishment for whatever reason. He wasn’t about to break the silence to ask for directions, and instead hurried over to an empty table in the far corner to wait.
Everyone’s eyes were fixed on a small stage in the corner of the bar, upon which a single spotlight fell. In fact, the bar was dimly lit enough where the spotlight was about the only source of light. The rest of the stage was occupied by a seat and a mic; it was clearly set up for a performer, but no one had appeared on stage yet.
Clear knew it would probably be quicker to leave this bar and just find another one, but against his better judgement, he decided to stay, just to see who this singer everyone was waiting around for was.
Nearly a minute later, when Clear was about to lean over and ask the table next to him who it was performing, the sound of footsteps echoed through the filled bar as the singer climbed up to the stage. Even before he said anything he stood out, with sky-blue hair that fell long and silky around his shoulders. With his eyes lowered, he seemed almost apprehensive of the audience– until he grabbed the mic with a certainty only an adept performer would have.
And then, with no preface or introduction he sang.
It was from that moment that Clear was transfixed. There was no other way to explain it. All thoughts of his grandfather, his errands, his current predicament flew from his head– until all he could focus on was the voice of the performer. It was like he was casting a spell over the entire bar. No one spoke, whispered or moved an inch; for a few moments, it felt like no one was breathing.
His song was sweet and melodic, like a tragic love song, and certainly not one Clear had heard before. When he finished, there was a smattering of clapping, most of the audience unsure of whether they should break the silence or not. At this, the singer flashed the audience a shy smile.
Clear thought he was going to have a heart attack.
“Thank you, thank you,” the blue haired singer said, lowering his mic. “Well, most of you already know me– but I’m Aoba, and thank you all for listening to me tonight. This next song is one composed by friend of a mine, I hope you enjoy!”
And with that, he launched into another song, this time more upbeat and poppy, like something one would hear on the radio.
Eventually, the hush that had settled over the bar would fade, and people would resume their conversations and their drinking, talking and laughing in low voices while Aoba continued to sing, song after song, in the background. Periodically, people would go up to him and make requests, all of which he could pull off flawlessly, regardless of genre.
In a haze, Clear had bought a drink, just so he wouldn’t appear to be loitering, not that he thought the owner would mind, what with the place packed to the brim. He had returned to his table in the back of the bar, still completely entranced by Aoba’s voice. It seemed like the hours merely slipped by as he sat there, enveloped in a cloud of smoke and neon and a voice sweeter than a songbirds, and the night drew on and on.
Eventually, Aoba withdrew from the stage, giving one last “thank you!” to the crowd to full applause, before retreating behind the bar. Clear almost wanted to yell at him not to go; all night long, he’d been mustering the courage to go up to the singer and make a song request. He’d never gotten the chance; and now, he may never see Aoba again.
After Aoba left, the bar slipped back into Clear assumed was its regular form, with the crowd of people thinning out, leaving only him and those who planned to drink into early morning left in the bar area. It was at this moment that Clear checked his Coil for the first time in hours.
Missed calls from: Grandfather (17)
Clear was not the type to panic, but he felt a slight bit of panic now.
“Excuse me?” he tentatively approached the bartender, who was wiping down the bar and humming one of the songs Aoba had been singing earlier. “Could you maybe give me some directions?”
The bartender raised his head, revealing a pale teardrop-shaped tattoo on his cheek and a friendly smile. “Sure, where do you need to go?”
“Um, I’d like to get back to the main street…also.” Clear sucked in a deep breath. “About that singer that was in here earlier…”
The bartender gave him an amused smile. “Interested, huh? He performs here most every Thursday and Friday. Stop by if you get a chance!”
“Yes, of course.” Clear glanced up, staring at the name “Black Needle” written out in cursive behind the bar.
The Black Needle…
He was going to have to remember that.
Because if he was ever to see that singer again, this bar would be the place to be.
“Hi, are you hiring?”
Mizuki blinked. He could’ve sworn this wasn’t the first time this curiously white-haired man had showed up in the Black Needle, but they had so many customers come in at night that his memory was hazy. Still, with snow-white hair, strikingly pale eyes, and two distinctive moles by his mouth, this was one face that he’d be hard pressed to forget.
“Are you the guy that asked for directions last Thursday?”
“Whoa, you remembered!” The white-haired man smiled widely, looking genuinely impressed. “Yes, that was me! I don’t have a good memory like you, but I remembered my way back here, even though I’m not good directions and grandpa gets mad at me. Anyways my name’s Clear, can you hire me?”
This was almost too much information to deal with, so Mizuki focused on the easiest part. “You want a job here?”
“Yes!”
“Do you have any experience doing tattoos?”
“Nope!”
“What about being a bartender, then?”
“Not at all!”
“Then…what can you do?”
“I’ll wash dishes, be a waiter, anything!” Clear paused, his expression shifting from enthusiasm to contemplation. “Well, as for things I can actually do… I can cook, sing, or play the piano! All in nothing but an apron, if you want! So-”
“Wait, wait,” Mizuki said, choosing to ignore that last part in light of Clear’s list of skills. “Sing and play piano?”
“Yup!”
“Hmm…” Mizuki rapped his fingers on the bar counter. “I’m always looking for new musical acts to perform here… We get a lot of singers, but you’re the first guy I’ve met who can play piano. Would you be interested in that?”
“Really?” Mizuki had never met anyone as expressive as Clear; his whole face was practically glowing. “I’ve never performed before but that sounds amazing, I’d love to!”
“Well, first you can come by and show me what you can do. We don’t have a piano in here already but I have a friend who knows where to get one.”
“Okay…” Clear looked around the shop. It was early morning so there weren’t many people; no one had come into the shop to get a tattoo yet, so Mizuki could’ve sat around talking all morning. “Um, speaking of musical acts, about the guy that was performing last time…”
“You must mean Aoba,” suddenly, Mizuki remembered more about his first encounter with Clear- he hadn’t just asked for directions. It all was becoming clear (no pun intended) what was happening.
This wasn’t the first time some guy had been skulking around the Black Needle after being entranced by Aoba’s voice, but none of them had been as earnest or as innocent-looking as Clear, and the blush on his face after asking after Aoba was a sweet contrast to the kind of interest most guys had in his friend.
Besides, if this guy really was good on the piano, then he would have bagged himself a new act for the bar and an admirer for Aoba in one fell swoop. It seemed like a win-win situation, for everyone involved.
“If you hang around here enough, you might just see him,” Mizuki suggested, laughing slightly at the obvious excitement on Clear’s face as he said that. “For now, why don’t you just give me your contact information?” He slid a flyer and a pen across the counter to Clear, flipping it over so he could write on the back.
“I don’t have any applications because it’s mostly people I know personally who work here,” Mizuki explained. “But still, give me your Coil number and we can work out a time for you to come by and practice.”
“Yes, of course,” Clear said. “I hope my grandpa will be okay with this…”
“Is there any reason he wouldn’t be?”
Clear looked rather embarrassed. “I get lost a lot, and last time I came into the city I spent too much time at this bar and lost track of time…”
“Here, I’ll make you a map,” Mizuki offered. “I mean, you found your way here, but just in case…”
“That would be great!” Clear was practically beaming, and Mizuki found it infectious.
“Here, I’ll get another pen,” he said, turning and heading into the back room.
And after that, he had to call Aoba.
“Hey, Mizuki?” Aoba pushed through the door to the Black Needle, not even bothering to shrug off his jacket as he entered. “Are you and Koujaku ready to go yet? I just finished my last delivery, so–”
“Shh!” out of nowhere, Mizuki grabbed Aoba’s wrist and pulled him over to a table in the corner of the shop. The Black Needle was closed today, as it usually was every month, for “maintenance”, and with his free time Mizuki had invited Aoba and Koujaku to go drinking, which Aoba had gladly accepted.
“What was that for?” he asked. “And where’s Koujaku, I thought he– since when did we have a piano?”
“Ah, so you noticed!”
“It hard not to.” On the tiny stage upon which Aoba sometimes performed, an actual grand piano had been dragged out, somehow managing to fit on the small space. The last afternoon sun slanted through the windows of the Black Needle (which were usually covered, to live up to its name) and illuminated its glossy black surface. It was altogether unfitting for the area, and area, and yet Aoba thought there was a certain beauty to the scene. “Where did you even get that?”
“Koujaku has a lot of connections, he managed it somehow…”
“I’m not surprised. But if someone’s playing on that thing, I hope he hasn’t done anything on it…”
“Well actually, someone is going to be playing on it! So be quiet for now.” Mizuki cupped his hands around his mouth. “Clear! You can come out now!”
From behind the bar emerged a young man, looking rather nervous; his hair was white and fluffy (like a baby bird’s, Aoba couldn’t help but think) and around his neck was a pale green sky. Keeping his eyes on the ground he settled into the seat of the piano, inhaled deeply, and began to play.
Aoba wasn’t much of a connoisseur of music; he was a listener of pop, electronic music, and whatever he heard most often on the radio. So despite being a singer himself, he probably wasn’t the best of judge of the quality of someone’s playing. But from the first few notes he could tell this person( Clear?) was skilled, from the focus of his expression to the way his fingers flew over the keys.
And then he started to sing.
It was almost like time had stopped, that single moment suspended in time- the setting sun, the piano wedged on the too small stage, and Clear; singing, his voice like a lullaby, sending them into a trance. All of his former nervousness was gone, and he too seemed to be lost in the music, and while Aoba knew absolutely nothing about this person, he felt that he had stumbled across something very beautiful.
As soon as it began, the song was over, and Clear lifted his head, smiling hesitantly. “So how was that- oh.” his eyes slid past Aoba and landed on Aoba as they made awkward eye contact for a few seconds. Aoba smiled weakly, trying to find something to say and wondering why Clear was staring at him like he’d seen a ghost; thankfully Mizuki saved him by beginning to clap.
“That was great!” he cheered. “I’d ask you to play more but I think that was enough. You’re definitely hired!”
“Really?” Clear said, still looking back and forth between Aoba and Mizuki. Meanwhile, Aoba was beginning to piece it together- Mizuki had wanted a new musical act, and he’d found it… “I can still play more, if you want-”
“No need!” Mizuki leapt from his seat. “Well, I need to go find Koujaku, I’ve got no idea where he went off to– I’ll be right back!”
And just like that, he was gone. Feeling panic set in with the sudden silence in his friend’s absence, Aoba cleared his throat.
“Um, I’m Aoba-”
“I know!” Clear said suddenly. “Um, that is…I saw your performance before.”
“Oh really?” Aoba didn’t know whether or not this was a good thing. “Well, nice to meet you… Clear, is it?”
“Yes!”
“Well, Clear, you have a beautiful voice,” Aoba felt himself relaxing a bit as the awkwardness of the situation diffused. “I’ve never heard anything like that before.”
Clear shook his head vigorously. “No, your voice is much better than mine! You had the whole bar quiet when you sang!”
“You flatter me,” Aoba said, although he couldn’t deny feeling a tiny spark of happiness at the compliment. “If you start performing here, I bet you could do that for sure.”
“Ah, I’m not sure about that… I don’t have experience like you do.”
“But you can play an instrument,” Aoba leaned forward, resting his hand on his chin. “I can’t do that, that’s for sure.”
“But your voice is special!” Clear said it with more enthusiasm than even Aoba could muster about his own performances. “I knew it from the first time I heard it!”
“I could say the same about you,” Aoba said, before blushing with embarrassment. He barely knew the guy, and here he was saying sappy things. But Clear didn’t seem to take it badly, and instead smiled widely back at him.
Well. Not only was he a great singer and good at playing piano, but this guy also had to be absolutely gorgeous. Aoba hadn’t been on a date in forever; he didn’t know how to deal with this. So instead, he changed the subject. “I can help you prepare, if you want… for the performance, I mean. It can be scary, if you’ve never done it before…”
And just like that, all the bounce in Clear’s personality was back. “I’d love that!”
Despite himself, Aoba smiled back. He probably would be a terrible mentor, especially considering how Clear’s talent level seemed light years ahead of his, but he couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to it.
And he was probably going to have to thank Mizuki for this.
“Are you nervous?”
“Maybe a little bit.” Clear adjusted his tie a bit before pressing his ear back against the door. “It sounds like a lot of people are out there…”
“There are,” Aoba agreed. “But you’ll do great. Oh- let me do that for you.”
Taking the tie from where Clear had been fiddling with it, Aoba tightened it for him. “There you go.”
“Thanks…” Clear looked back out to the door, where the sounds of people talking and laughing drifted to their ears. “Hey, Aoba, how come you never believe is when we say you’ll do great?”
“I’m lowering my expectations so if I do suck, I won’t be as disappointed.”
“You never suck!”
“It’s a preventative measure… but anyways, I know you’ll do great! Honestly.”
“It’s only thanks to you!” Clear reached forward, grabbing Aoba’s hands earnestly: he felt a flush of embarrassment but didn’t pull away, enraptured by the enthusiasm in Clear’s eyes. “All the time you spent helping me practice… and all the tips you gave me… it’s all thanks to you!”
“Well, I mean…”
“Which is why, Aoba-san,” Clear said, adopting a look of determination, “I want to know if you want to go out with me after this!”
“Go out?”
“Yeah!”
“Where?”
Clear paused. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I didn’t think I’d get to ask… But still! Wherever you want to go!”
Aoba started laughing. He hadn’t known Clear for long, but this was undoubtedly a very Clear thing to say. “So, like a date?”
“Yes! A date!” Clear said, before embarrassment dawned on his face. “If you want to, that is…”
“Of course I want to!” Aoba replied. “Well, on one condition…”
“Huh?”
“Next time you perform, do a duet with me.”
Clear beamed. “Of course!”
Aoba gave him a nudge. “Then get on out there.”
Clear inhaled deeply, then headed for the door. Right before he pushed it open, he looked over his shoulder and said, “Please watch me; Aoba-san.”
Aoba smiled.
“I will.”
And he did, as Clear made his way to the stage, sat down on the seat of the piano, and began to sing.
In which Aoba realizes the perks of having two boyfriends....
@dreaming-shark Sup, I was your Dmmd secret santa. Sorry I was late, but I hope you had a wonderful Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa and I hope all goes well for you in the upcoming year. Seasons Greetings!
This is my gift for my DMMd Secret Santa @seventhimpact!! Sorry it’s a little late, I changed my entire plan just a few days ago so ;-; I saw you like Yuri!! on Ice too and I just couldn’t help myself from doing a crossover type thing after seeing the last episode. So voilà, NoiAo on Ice! They compete as pair skaters and often switch up who does the lifts. Noiz has more than once lost piercings to the ice, but still refuses to take them off. So anyways, I hope you like it and I hope you had a super duper awesome Christmas :) <3
