the concert
i had a dream so I'm going to make a fic out of it
TW: suggestive content
The venue is already humming when you arrive — low lights, fog drifting across the stage, and that familiar tension in the air that always comes before a Sleep Token show. You find your spot in the crowd, close enough to feel the bass in your ribs but far enough to see the whole stage.
When the lights drop, the room erupts.
The first note hits like a pulse through your chest. Vessel steps into the glow, mask gleaming, posture calm but commanding. You can’t look away. Every lyric, every shift in the music, every swell of emotion pulls you deeper in. It feels like the entire show is happening in slow motion just for you.
At one point, Vessel’s head tilts — just slightly — and for a moment you’re convinced he’s looking right at you. The thought sends a rush through your veins, but you shake it off. It’s a concert. You’re one face in a sea of them.
Still… the feeling lingers.
When the final song fades and the applause roars around you, you’re buzzing with adrenaline. You’re about to head toward the exit when a tap on your shoulder stops you.
A security guard stands behind you.
“hey you,” he asks
Your stomach flips. “Yeah…?”
“Come with me. The band would like to see you backstage.”
you follow bewildered, not entirely sure if this is a dream or not. The backstage room is softly lit, warm, almost intimate. Equipment cases line the walls, and the air still vibrates with leftover energy from the show. Vessel stands near a table, mask still on, posture relaxed but attentive — like he’s been waiting.
His head lifts when he sees you.
“You know,” he pauses, “It’s rare that someone holds my attention that long.”
You blink, unsure you heard him right. “Me?”
Vessel steps closer, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off him even through the mask and layers. The air thickens, humming with tension.
"Yes.." he trailed off “You have no idea,” he murmurs, voice sounding rougher than before “how distracting you were tonight.”
Your breath catches. “Distracting?”
He tilts his head, mask inches from your face. “In a way that made it… difficult to focus.”
His painted hand lifts — slow, deliberate — and he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is feather‑light, but it sends a shock through you, your pulse jumping.
“You kept pulling my attention,” he says, voice dropping even lower. “Again and again.”
Your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it.
Vessel’s fingers trail from your ear to your jaw, tracing the line with a gentleness that feels almost reverent. He stops at your chin, tilting your face up toward him.
“Tell me,” he whispers, “did you feel it too?”
The question hangs between you, electric.
You swallow, barely able to speak. “Yes.”
His thumb brushes your lower lip — slow, intentional, lingering just long enough to make your knees weaken.
“Good,” he breathes. “Then I’m not imagining this.”
He steps even closer, your bodies almost touching now, the heat between you unmistakable. His hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you there — not forceful, just enough to make your breath hitch.
“There’s a lot I want to do,” he murmurs, voice like velvet and smoke, “but I won’t cross a line you don’t choose.”
The tension coils tight, almost unbearable.
“Just say the word,” he adds, “and I’ll show you exactly what I mean.”
I'm just gonna leave this here... (i wrote this at 2 am, idk if is should tell ya'll what happend next, i'm sure you can guess)
