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Love gcest songs but why are they always the most heart breaking thing known to man

The show’s barely over and everything backstage feels loud in a dull, buzzing way. Noel’s ears are still ringing, shirt sticking to him, adrenaline refusing to settle. People keep clapping him on the back, shoving liquor into his hands, talking at him instead of to him. He nods, mutters, half-smiles. He’s looking past everyone. His guitar tech is saying something, someone laughs down the hall, a door slams. None of it matters the moment he sees her.

Valeria.

Always tucked off to the side like she always is, leaning against a stack of cases, arms loose inside one of his jumpers. Collar just brushing her chin. Her dark hair is loose, a little messy, and when she looks up and catches his eye, her face changes instantly. Softer. Brighter. Just for him. Something in his chest pulls tight, sharp and familiar, like the opening chord of a song he never gets tired of playing.

“You were brilliant,” she says, soft but true, like she’s telling him a secret meant only for him.

He scoffs in reply, because that’s what he does, but it falls apart halfway through. He steps closer, close enough that the noise fades and it’s just the two of them in the low light, her perfume cutting through the stale smell of sweat and amps. His hand comes up without him deciding to do it, fingers hooking lightly at the hem of the jacket, tugging her closer.

“Missed you,” he murmurs, voice rough from singing and her mere presence affected him entirely.

Her smile is small, private. “You were gone an hour.”

“Felt longer.” He said gently, all his focus on her.

He doesn’t even think about it. He steps into her space, crowd noise fading, and she tips her face up like she already knows what’s coming. His hand comes up, warm and sure, cupping her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek without pressure. He kisses her slow, unhurried, like he’s been holding it in since he walked onstage.

She kisses him back just as easily, fingers fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. He groans quietly into her mouth, barely there, and backs her gently against the road case behind her. Not rough. Just close. Close enough to feel her breathing, the heat of her body through layers of clothes.

God, he missed this.

His hand slides to her waist, grips, like he needs to ground himself. He kisses her deeper, not rushed, maybe a little sloppy, but that’s what makes it hot, rifht?. He’s pouring everything he doesn’t say into it. She sighs into his mouth and that sound alone makes his stomach twist.