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discomxcabre · 3 months ago

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star boy, oh mine 1

[PRAGUE 1993] [WARSAW 1994 pt.1] [COMING SOON ] [COMING SOON] | [masterlist]

viktor x gn!rockstar reader

tw // smoking, alcohol, subtextual mentions of sa, cussing

cw: they/them pronouns for reader, viktor-centric, czech viktor, vik has a last name, jayce, vi and jinx are here too, 90s au, reader is cocky, flirty and a bit of a rube, caitvi in the subtext, author is attempting to be funny, power dynamics (fan x idol), unplanned angst, i wrote songs for this [smut: sub top!vik, darcyphilia, hickeys, praise, anal, aftercare, reader is drunk]

summary: after a concert to celebrate getting a degree, viktor dvořák catches the attention of his idol and makes an irresponsible decision that will forever reposition the constellations in his heart.

note: it has some funny lines so don't read it just for smut. (i choked on water writing one of these lines.)

5.9k words

PRAGUE, 1993

„These standing rooms were a mistake,” Viktor grumbled, shifting from his weaker leg. He could feel the music in his bones, but everything, everything was stopping him from enjoying the concert.

He just got his doctorate in astronomy, was about to make a scientific breakthrough and right now you, his idol and the vocalist of the independent rock band – Y/N & The Sisters of Discordance – were performing on a scene just before him.

He should be on cloud nine. But in reality he was in pain and annoyed at people covering his view, having nowhere to sit, while his leg was giving him a bad time, and the smell of other people’s sweat tortured his nose. At least Jayce was shielding him from being crushed.

“Really?” Jayce looked down at him. “We can see everything!”

“You can, Jayce. Only thing I see is the back of this guy in front of me.” He complained. “And my leg hurts.”

“I can help it.”

Viktor felt Jayce’s hands lifting him up and suddenly he was the highest of all people in these standing rooms. As high as the moon itself, maybe. His friend carried him piggyback. And he could see everything. He laid his eyes on you, singing with your whole throat, as your fingers pulled the strings of your guitar.

At the back, Vi was hitting the drums, and Jinx was pulling the strings of her bass. But his enraptured vision made him see you and only you.

As you did a riff, Viktor’s heart stopped. You were mesmerizing, your voice, piercing through the speakers, was awakening the audience, making them cheer, put their hands up and sing along with their intoxicated voices. You blinded him like the sun. And he could feel everyone’s attention pointing onto the small, quiet scientist risen above everyone else’s heads.

Your eyes converged with his and he gripped his cane tighter. You smiled at him and he thought he was about to fall.

***

After you and your band left the stage, the fans started dispersing from the club. Their drunken shouts and screams so loud he just wanted to gag all these people. When there was finally some space, Viktor got back on the ground. But fuck… He was still able to feel the hot air filing him inside. Still able to feel your gazes merging like a lunar eclipse.

“Thank you, Jayce.” He breathed. “Y/N looked me in the eyes.”

“You think they will remember you?”

“Don’t be delusional. They won’t.” He put his cane forward, heading to the exit from the club.

“They will. You know, mom got me a backstage pass.” Jayce smiled.

Viktor didn’t know what to say. He just went with Jayce to the backstage, through the corridors painted with unevenly spread paint, with one colour for upper half and other for the lower. He peeked through the door. You were giving an interview to a journalist from a local newspaper, with a camera before your face.

The rock magazines would soon sprout out all these headlines: Y/N L/N, the unknown lyrical genius?, or Y/N & The Sisters of Discordance – new rising star or a total failure?

“Tell us, Y/N, how do you see the future of your band?” the journalist asked.

“Do I have to be honest? If yes, then without me.”

Viktor pulled onto Jayce’s flannel shirt. He felt his eyes opening, and saw his knuckles whitening, while gripping the material.

“Listen.” He told him.

You continued what you were saying.

“Or just with another songwriter. I’m losing inspiration. Guess I just have to find a muse.” You said with a chuckle.

Your eyes laid on Viktor. Again, now harder. As you were saying the word muse. His body lit up, about to implode or explode, turn him into a supernova.

“Okay, end the interviews.” You ordered. “Everyone, please go.”

“I haven’t finished mine yet!” Jinx shouted.

“Y/N, you can’t just…” Vi mumbled with concern in her voice. She gave the journalist a compassionate look. “Whatever…”

"Okay, you two can stay, but hurry up," you said.

What an audacity.

And everyone simply started leaving. Viktor headed to the exit, too. Even if he wanted to stay for a minute. This rocker’s voice contains something, he was certain. The chance of this silly idea coming true evaporated. He sighed.

“Not you, cane boy!”

He curled up.

You must be talking about him. Yes, this insolent rocker mesmerises people with their voice. He wanted to go. He wanted to stay. He wanted to leave. He wanted you to say a word to him. He wanted- He…

Fuck.

“Me?” He asked. No, he squeaked. His voice was annoyingly high, so high it drowned out his intelligence, the thing he mesmerised you by in his stupid dreams. He sounded so pathetic in front of his musical deity.

“Who else here has a cane?” You asked with a confident smile, leaning on the chair you were sitting on.

Viktor bit his lip. Journalists walked past him and Jayce, who then shoved him into the room. He held onto his cane till his knuckles became even whiter. He wanted to hit his friend with it so, so bad it was ridiculous. You stood up from your chair, smiling, and he felt his cheeks, and especially his nose and his ears turning red.

You reached your hand to him. Viktor was shaking. You were real. Persona, he saw only on posters, rock magazines, once on MTV at Jayce’s house when they were playing more niche bands in the middle of the night, and just a minute ago, on stage. Made of flesh and bone, breathing air, looking at him. He shook your hand back. And you were real. Real, with hands that warmed his cold skin and a smile that narcotised his star-filled brain.

“You must have a backstage pass.”

And he couldn’t respond. How do you say it in English? He couldn’t even in his native Czech. He just squeaked.

“He knows English!” Jayce shouted and Viktor wanted to slap him. “He’s just shy!”

“Jayce…”

“Don’t be shy, I don’t bite.” You smirked. “Tell, me, what’s your name?”

“It’s Viktor. Viktor Dvořák.”

“Viktor Dvořák… What a pretty name.”

“Doctor Viktor Dvořák!” Jayce walked into the room, then hugged him over his shoulder with his big bicep. “He recently got a doctorate!”

“Oh really? In what?”

“In astronomy.” He said quietly, hoping you won’t pay attention to his thick accent. “I am… looking at pulsars and…” He stopped, trying to find words in the foreign language.

“You know, you can tell me about your research in the hotel room.” You joked, looking at him. It seemed to him like your eyes contained unspoken indecency, that gave him shivers. Your vision suddenly purified. “Do you guys want an autograph?”

“Indeed.” Viktor mumbled. This risqué idea seemed weirdly alluring.

Now, he wanted to slap himself.

“Sure!” Jayce took off his flannel, exposing his back and broad shoulders to you. You took out an indelible marker and painted your autograph on the white material of his shirt.

“I talk… I was talking um… hotel rooms.” A quiet voice escaped Viktor’s lips.

You laughed and stroked his shoulder. He trembled at your touch, still unable to believe he was meeting his idol in person. He couldn’t stop monitoring himself: the way he held his free hand and his cane, the way he smiled, the way words went out of his mouth. And he couldn’t hide that accent.

“And I was joking.” You replied, then smirked. “Unless...”

Viktor knew he was all red. Knew that if he opens his mouth, nothing coherent will come out. Jayce yanked him to the corner of the room and gripped his shoulders.

“Vik! This is hella irresponsible!” He shouted, whispering. “You will…”

“I know what I’m doing, Jayce.”

“So?” You asked.

“I’m going.”

“Viktor, for God’s sake!”

That’s exactly what he wanted to yell at himself.

You grabbed the material of his shirt, like you wanted to take him somewhere. Please, be it this fucking hotel room.

Jayce pouted.

“Viktor! You are going to a hotel with them while I have nowhere to stay!” He exclaimed. “We were supposed to get back to Ostrava right after the concert!”

You looked at Jayce, then at the bassist.

“Hey, Vi! Will you find him a place to stay?” You asked her and she looked up from the guitar she was tuning. “Unless you two have to necessarily be in Ostrava tomorrow…” You said to them.

“Why me?” She asked.

“Please, you’re good at these things.”

“Well… okay. Come with me, big boy.”

“I’ll get you back at 10 o’clock from the Jan Hus monument, okay, Vik?”

“Just get me tomorrow.” He muttered under his breath.

Ten minutes after Jayce and Vi left, Viktor was sitting beside you in the dressing room, as you held him close by his hip. Jinx focused her attention on the vocalist and the nervous wreck of a boy they picked up from the backstage.

Viktor leaned closer, sitting so close to you, almost on your lap. And you were holding his skinny, uninvitingly small and stiff thigh. And you somehow held it like he was a supermodel. And he hated how he melted under your touch.

“Have you heard of planets outside the solar system?” He stuttered, sitting huddled beside you, as you manspreaded across the seat, sipping a coctail. You have already changed into a loose undershirt.

“No.” Jinx said, unbraiding her blue hair.

“I did… but not much.” You said, smiling at him.

“Do you want me to talk about them?” Viktor looked you in the eyes, and he felt how his were widening like the ones of anything other than the brilliant astronomer he wanted you to see him as.

“No.” Jinx answered with a voice that screamed she didn’t care about the sciences. Then, she hid behind the curtain to change, throwing out her top from behind it.

The top landed on Viktor. “It is clear you didn’t.” He said, folding the piece of clothing. “A mind too closed to know that it should not throw clothes.”

You laughed, covering your face. Somehow, you melted him so much he now was bantering with the drummer.

“Please, tell me about them, professor Dvořák.” You looked into his eyes, holding his chin, making him explode inside. The way you called him professor Dvořák... Not doctor, professor. And how soft and attentive was your gaze. Your warm hand patted his hip. “I can’t wait till we’re alone in the hotel room.”

***

“Finally, just the two of us.” You said. Jinx and Vi, who recently got back with you to the hotel room, went to a bar to celebrate. You have ordered pizza for you and Viktor.

Now, he was standing in the centre of the hotel room. He wanted to sit, since his leg was tormenting him. But the air didn’t let him sit down before you do. He hissed in pain.

“Do you want to sit down?” You looked at his cane. Viktor nodded. He was certain you were some kind of mind reader.

A minute later, pizza arrived.

“Vi will kill us for this.” You said, taking a piece of pizza out of the box that lied on the bed. Like you weren’t his idol, but his friend, like Jayce. Whatever he was doing now.

You both were sitting on the white sheets in the white room, with Viktor’s cane lying beside him on the mattress. You bit of a piece of cheese-covered batch, steaming into the air. Viktor poked the pizza with his finger. The thought of eating, of biting, chewing and swallowing in front of you was hitting him with embarrassment that tangled his guts in a knot.

“Hey, Vik, why aren’t you eating?” You tilted your head in a caring manner, then smiled. “Tell me, at least there will be more pizza for me.”

“It’s… nothing.”

“Are you starving yourself like some fashion model? You’re already super skinny, I mean…”

“It’s a chronic illness. You know that the first exoplanets were speculated to exist in ninetieth century?” Viktor changed the subject, then took a triangle of pizza, covering his face with his hand. How comfortable he was becoming with you.

You looked at him, again with this weird concern in your eyes. Whatever you were thinking, Viktor knew one thing. You got attached. So quickly, he was pitying you for only being able to spend one night alongside him.

He took another bite, with his face covered, trying not to chew too loud, praying not to stain his face with tomato sauce. And you looked at him like at the prettiest of flowers.

“You know, the guy that speculated it saw anomalies in 70 Ophiuchi double star and thought some planet might exist there,” Viktor continued.

“Oh yeah? How did the research go later?”

“In the 1890s they abandoned it, they thought a third body in between the stars would make it unstable.”

“That was a hundred years ago, isn’t it crazy?”

“A lot happened a hundred years ago,” Viktor said. He noticed how your pupils widen at the face he made.

“You’re so pretty, Viktor. Your accent is too, and your brain…” You smiled at him weirdly, like you were expecting something. He knew what and it made him redder than the sauce on the pizza. You took the box into your hand and put it on the floor. “Fuckable, I would say.” You tilted up his chin so he couldn’t cover his face.

You cleaned his cheek of tomato sauce with your fingers. So unsexy.

“You want an… intercourse with me?” He felt how his cheeks become hotter than the sun itself and more red than the planet of Mars.

“You know, I’m too lazy today.”

“I can top.”

You lied on the mattress, then took out a pack of cigs and a lighter. You lit up your cigarette.

“So, take your dick out, pretty boy.” You said, inhaling the nicotine.

Viktor hugged the pillow. “Shouldn’t we kiss first?” He gripped the sheet closer to his chest.

Without saying anything, you pulled him onto your lap by his hips, like he weighted nothing. Your breath hit his face, smelling of nicotine, etanol and pizza. You took out the cigarette out of your mouth and put it in between his lips, gently holding the lower lip with your two fingers, getting them wet from his spit. Did it already count as a kiss?

His thighs were split by your knee, and his crotch was touching your thigh. You took his black Nirvana shirt off him, making him expose his hairy armpits, bones protruding from his ridiculously small and hairy torso, and his back brace. Then you kissed, no, you bit his neck and Viktor let out a moan of his lips, as his fingers grabbed the cigarette.

He didn’t have a scarf or a turtleneck and probably neither had anyone in the band.

“Don’t drop the cig, star boy, you will burn the bed.” You said with lust in your eyes, then started kissing his collarbone.

Viktor squeaked.

Then he felt as you unbuckled his jeans. You quickly flipped him on his back like he was as light as a ragdoll, then put up his legs, sliding the pants down. You threw them onto the floor.

But you were still clothed. You were still fully clothed, while he was wearing just his boxers and leg and back brace, feeling like a prostitute.

“So pretty.” Your eyes examined him from head to toe. “Better than a supermodel.”

Viktor took out the cigarette. Now it smoked in his fingers. You lowered yourself to his flat, hairy stomach and kissed it, biting his skin and hairs on his happy trail it like he was a snack. Viktor whimpered, covering his face with a pillow. Your lips travelled onto his hips, then on his legs and his inner thighs. As you nibbled the skin in between the brace on his weaker leg, he whined with a high pitch, trying to muffle it by pressing his face into the pillow. Your fingers gripped his hips like hawk claws. You put his leg over your shoulder.

He whimpered.

“What’s wrong, little star?”

“Other leg…” he mewled.

“I’ll kiss it if you won’t hide your pretty face anymore.”

Your mouth kissed the neglected, healthy leg of his gently. Then, your lips sucked onto it and he knew the next day all of his body will be red from hickeys. Your lips felt like heaven on his skin. Soft, wet, warm, hiding sharp teeth. As much as he wanted to hide himself in sheets, he stopped himself in the name of your mouth. And as you watched him, he repeated to himself, that you probably find his awkward face adorable.

Then the sensation stopped and he whimpered for more, feeling as his genius brain gets turned into something between a mush and a nebula. He gripped the bedsheet tighter.

“Undress me now.”

He opened his eyes wide, hearing these words from your mouth. Viktor’s hands were shaking. You laid before him as you put your hands under your head like shameless lazybones, and your legs spread between him. He took the white material of your undershirt between his fingers. The same thing with the other hand. He slid up your undershirt.

Your naked torso, the nude skin of his idol he imagined so many times, was even more beautiful in alive sight. Shaped better than he ever thought. You pulled his eyes onto his hypnotized self.

“Give me the cig, Viktor.”

His body shivered, as your voice said his name. It fondled every centimeter of his exposed skin. He gave you the cigarette, and you parted your mouth. As he put it between your teeth, his finger brushed your lips. He was almost naked, you were shirtless, but this, this little touch made him hard with no way to go back.

You inhaled some smoke. Viktor unbuckled your belt, then you stopped him to take out a condom and lube out of your pocket. He continued, unzipping your pants and sliding them down. He folded it into nice cubes, partially as a quiet mental revenge on Jinx for throwing her top at him.

Next, he touched your underwear. Underwear of his idol that would be sold for so much money he would never need sponsorship for his research. It smelled intoxicating. He slid it down, and you winked at him, exhaling cigarette smoke. Now, he was unsure how he will look at the posters of you in his bedroom, as he had seen your parts.

“You are…” He mumbled.

“Beautiful? Sexy? Stunning?” You prompted, then put the cigarette in his mouth and gripped his waist, just under his back brace. “Fuckable?”

He nodded.

“All of these? Then fuck me, show me how you do it. Just let me…”

You opened the condom with the teeth that have been just a minute ago biting his thighs. You touched his length and as you slithered the silicone material down on his sensitive skin, he whimpered, squeezing his eyes and hiding his face in his hands. And then, you put a massive amount of lube. He clenched his teeth, not to sound like a pathetic little cat.

You clasped his hips and shoved him inside you. You grunted and wiped sweat out of your forehead. Viktor cried. You, engulfing his length, were so tight he was shivering. And you took just the half of him.

He moved, and the friction made him tremble. You stroked his hip, like you were praising him. His whole body was covered in sweat, and he was breathing so hard his lungs hurt.

It was pathetic, how sensitive he was. He was barely inside you, but you having kissed his thighs had drove him so close.

Another thrust, he could take it better. He didn’t squeak like a cat, he only whimpered quietly, as three-quarters of his length were inside you. A drop of his sweat dripped onto your chest.

You slid him out by his hips, then slid inside again with a quiet moan. Viktor could barely stay up, even with a brace holding him. He was about to shatter.

“Have you done it before, little star?” You asked, exhaling smoke.

Viktor’s voice didn’t want to cooperate. Instead of yes, his mouth only said a squeal. He hid in a pillow.

“I can give your sweet mouth something to do, if you don’t feel like speaking.” You exposed his face from under a sheet. His length twitched and you hummed with a grin on your face, like you knew perfectly what you were doing.

Viktor knew his face was the shade of the Martian atmosphere and he regretted he ever learned English because of this.

He felt as your legs wrap around his waist, sliding him deeper. His brain was getting mushier with every millimeter. He trembled, gritting his teeth, knowing he was about to melt into a liquid state of matter and drip down inside you. His muscles were becoming soft like a pillow. He leaned on his hands between your head, leaning on his healthy leg. Every thrust of his was weaker, as his muscles were turning into plush.

“You’re so cute.” You chuckled, your hand brushing his damp hair. You were smirking, looking up at him with so much love in your glance. “Just a bit more.”

“I can’t… I’m cumming.”

“You can, sweetie. Just one more thrust.”

He obeyed, moving his hips into you. You pet his hair with a gentle smile, like he wasn’t milliseconds from turning into ashes. He felt as his eyes fill with tears. You hushed at him, stroking his back with your cold hand. He shivered from the touch.

His vision got blurry from tears. His whole body was shaking, as he shot an embarrassing amount of juices into you. His back arched, and his whole length got engulfed by your hole. He collapsed onto your chest, crying and sweating, his muscles weakening. He was certain he was seeing space, exoplanets perhaps.

“Ah, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re really good at these things.” You hissed and wiped the sweat of your forehead. “That’s my boy.”

You took him off your chest, then took off his condom and put it in the trash. That whole while, he spent lying on the bed, shaking and crying loads of tears into the pillow. He became so sensitive.

You put on your undershirt and underwear, then lied on the bed. He felt as you slip his boxers back onto him. You pulled him onto your chest with so much ease. The warmth of your body was slowly putting him to sleep. Tears gently dripped down his heated face. His hair was wet and probably smelly from sweat, just like the rest of his body. And you were brushing it with your loving hand. He purred.

You put a warm duvet on the both of you. Then you wiped off his tears with it. He closed his eyes. Your heart was beating inside your chest like a lullaby for him. He was listening to it now, alongside the sound of your breath and the blood flowing in your veins, but just some hours ago, he was not even truly conscious that you were corporeal.

His hand tied with yours. He was in a city three hundred and fifty kilometres from his Ostrava, in a hotel room he never stepped a foot in before, with a person he just until today thought of as superhuman. But now, your thumb was stroking his hand, making him feel so safe.

You left a warm kiss on his forehead just before he fell asleep.

…

“Seriously, Y/N?” The bassist’s voice woke him up.

You whined in your sleep and Viktor felt how you embrace him tighter, putting your leg over his. Vi moved her eyes from sleepy you to him.

“Seriously, Dvořák? You’re sleeping here, on my side of the bed? At least you're small enough not to take up much space.”

“Just to let you know, I don’t kick in my sleep or snore,” he mumbled with a voice hoarse from sleep.

“Unlike my sister,” she laughed and eyed at Jinx, sleeping with her mouth open on the extra bed. “Your friend has now a place to stay. I haven’t spent too much money on him, fortunately.”

***

Viktor woke up in his bedroom.

Again, he was dreaming of meeting his favourite rockstar and agreeing to what only the most stupid fans would agree to. And he was everything but stupid. But that dream was so… realistic. He’s going to tell Jayce about this dream as soon as they meet in the university.

He wondered if his friend dreamt of something too. Jayce’s dreams were always weird, like when they both visited a cemetery named China and mausoleum of Václav Havel by a rollercoaster, then having to evacuate because a war broke out in Czechoslovakia. Or when they were watching Disney characters beating each other up on a rooftop, while he was fixing an electrical outlet.

Wait a minute, this wasn’t his bedroom. This was a hotel room he fell asleep in his dream, with white sheets and white walls, and the morning sun peeking through beige curtains. And it was not a dream. On the bed at the other side of the room, Jinx was snoring, hugging her shark plushie from Jaws. On his right side, Vi was sleeping with messed up hair and her arm falling off the mattress . Floor was filled with empty and half-empty beer cans, a pizza box and pizza crumbs. The only familiar thing in the room was his cane.

He felt your arms wrapped around his waist and your face nuzzled into the back of his neck. You were so warm. And you both smelled of sweat and pizza you ate last night.

You hugged him tighter and groaned as you woke up. He felt you nuzzling your face into his back. Then, your hands freed him, and you stretched. Viktor rolled over to see if you were real. And you were. So real and human with a morning face and unbrushed hair.

You moved yourself up, to be at the height of his eyes. Then, you got up onto your arms, with him stuck between your hands. You smirked, being on top of him. Real.

“Hello, star boy. Have you slept well?,” you asked with your voice so soft.

Viktor wiped his eyes with his fist, whining. His brain was still waking up.

„I’m going to the shower. Wanna go with me?”

“Ehh… I would need a shower bench and I’m sure there is none of that in this hotel.” His morning voice was hoarse and grainy.

“You’re right. I’ll be right back.” You bent your arms like you were doing a push up, then kissed him on the forehead. He watched as you grab your clothes and lock yourself in the bathroom. As the sound of water started to drip down, he fell back asleep.

…

“Jinx! Wake up,” Vi’s voice woke up him instead.

“No.”

“Wake up.”

“No.”

“Oh my god, Jinx…” She sighed. “Help me, Dvořák....”

Viktor was forced to open his eyes.

“I have a name.”

“Oh my god. Help me… Viktor, right?”

He nodded, then stretched himself, hearing his joints cracking. His braces were digging into his skin. He regretted not taking them off for the night. When he was already standing on the ground, barely holding himself on his cane by sleepy muscles, he threw on his yesterday’s shirt. It was smelly and he had nothing else to wear, but it was worth the night he spent with you.

He leaned his hand on the wall and poked Jinx on the nose with his cane. She rolled to the other side. He poked her on the back. She grabbed the cane and he fell onto the bed.

Viktor tsked, rolling his eyes. “You know that you’re lucky that I am too weak to throw this bed upside down with you in it?”

“How did Y/N fucking you go?” Jinx asked as soon as she saw him, ignoring his threats.

“Is it really the first question you chose to ask me in the morning?”

“They topped, did they?”

“A mind so closed it jumps to conclusions…”

“Shut up, star boy.”

Half an hour later, Jinx finally woke up and Vi made breakfast for the whole band. When it was already a quarter after 10 o’clock, Viktor began to worry and get impatient. Jayce was never late, if anything, he was always too early. You went with him downstairs to look for a telephone. You found it at the front desk.

Jayce quickly answered. No wonder, after all, he had a mobile phone, that he remembered costed a fortune at Tuzex. He leaned on the desk.

“What is that music, Jayce?” he said into the headset, hearing Czech techno that disrupted his friend’s voice.

“Sorry, Vik! They’re being loud and you know…”

“I get it, can you pick me up from Y/N?” He asked, feeling as your hand wraps around his. He tried to ignore it. “If you haven’t gone back to Ostrava without me.”

“No problem, Vik! I’m here in an hour!”

“An hour? Where the fuck were you sleeping? Just don’t tell me you somehow got to Austria like last year.”

“I don’t know, but I'm rushing to you! Wait by the Jan Hus monument, okay?”

Viktor hung up the phone. You squeezed his hand and looked him in the eyes.

“One hour. We have an hour.” You sighed and pulled him to yourself, hugging him from behind with your hands on his waist. “I’ll miss you when it passes.”

He knew you won’t. Stars like you don’t miss random groupies they took for a one night stand to their hotel rooms. But the softness with which your hands wrapped around him said something different. He knew you shouldn’t.

Viktor closed his eyes and leaned on you, trying to remember and savor every detail of these few seconds. He knew he shouldn’t.

***

You spent the hour made to clean the hotel room, like the bassist asked you to. In this hour, Viktor explained the Austria incident with all its gory and criminal details, and the rest of the history of the research of exoplanets. Then you told him the entire story of how your band got the name Y/N & The Sisters Of Discordance, also giving him the knowledge of the alternative names the band almost got, most of them invented by Jinx.

He tried not to pay too much attention, knowing how much he would miss you otherwise. But he knew you were trying to imprint him in your mind like a tatoo on your skin.

Your finger traced along his skin like you were an artist tracing along the sketch to imprint the image of him in your mind. The exact shape of his nose, lips and cheekbones, the exact tint of gold in his eyes.

He felt so sorry for you. Seeing as you slowly put on your combat boots and your leather jacket, as if you wanted the both of you to stay in this hotel for one more while. Forever, perhaps.

You were focused on the beauty of him. He was focused on the beauty of the old town, so nostalgia will feel less painful.

He went to some corner shop to buy something to drink, choosing a bottle of Kofola. Two streets later he saw the Jan Hus monument and someone, probably Jayce leaning on its wall. Finally, he won’t have to feel your presence.

It wasn’t because he had enough of you. It was because he knew the light of the memory of you will forever contrast with the mundanity the rest of his life.

Viktor shivered.

“Are you cold, star boy?” You asked him, caressing his shoulder.

This petname that just last night felt like a hug, now gave him the awareness that for the rest of his life he will choke on it. And every next kiss he will experience will be hollow.

“A bit.”

“Do you want my jacket?” You started taking it off. Yeah, you will give it to him and he will be forced to remember your smell that he will never get to feel again.

“Please, no.”

“Please, you will be sick.”

He will be sick anyways.

“We’re almost there. I swear I can see Jayce from here.”

You kissed Viktor on the neck in a farewell. Jayce was reading something, probably some comic book, as he leaned on the monument’s wall. The Týn Church’s spiky towers poked the cold air and the gray sky.

Your tear fell onto his shoulder, as your lips left his. He walked towards Jayce, trying to focus on the unevenness of the street. He waved at him, then seeing his friend run towards him.

„Dang it, Vik!” He shouted with a dramatic gesture. “When you were spending your dream night with a rockstar I had to sleep in a hostel for truck drivers! I don’t know if I was still in Czechoslovakia but it definitely wasn’t in Prague anymore! Did you at least… have nothing against them? You know, there are a lot of fans who got impregnated by their idols, and stuff...”

“You were definitely not in Czechoslovakia because it stopped existing three months ago, Jayce.” Viktor sipped on his Kofola. “And I’m sure I won’t get pregnant with Y/N. Even if, I will force them to pay alimony.”

“Will you? What did you even do with Y/N?”

“I explained exoplanets to them and then they…” he sighed, not wanting to let the memories grow their roots. “I’m greatly surprised I can still walk.”

Viktor saw an old lady eavesdropping him and Jayce, looking, like she just saw Satan.

„And how was your night in that hostel for truck drivers?”

Jayce’s red Skoda was parked by the Legion Bridge.

Viktor sat on the passenger seat, as Jayce stepped on the pedal, and they headed back to Ostrava. Jayce put a cassette into the player. The car filled with sounds of Y/N & The Sisters Of Discordance’s latest album. He was now unable not to reminisce the night with the owner of the voice filling the car.

Then, the song Girl With Diamonds In Her Blood started to play. Jayce started bopping his head to the fast melody of his favorite song on the album.

Your voice, that he heard both in it’s softest and the most indecent shape, the voice that called him professor Dvořák, your star boy and your little star. Both laughing as you found his entire existence adorable and saying stuff that turned him red. This voice was now singing the worst lyrics on the album in his opinion. At least, it was not you who wrote it, but Vi.

Finally, even if it was your voice, Jayce singing and torturing Viktor’s auditory nerves was more bearable than the memories of you he will never get to relive.

Jayce, as he was driving the car, was singing:

They said:

Girl with Violet in her name,

Why don’t you have any friends?

I said:

I had one friend in Britain

I know she’s either here or there

I wanted to drink some tea

And she wanted it with me

So she brought me to her home

That was palace of some sort

And what did i expect?

„Listen here, Jayce.” His friend ignored him, but he continued. "You’re lucky that you are the driver and my cane is in the backseat.”

But Viktor was forced to listen to his vocal performances, until he sang the last line, hitting the steering wheel:

It’s a year since I left and I coughed up all my blood.

“If you ever sing that song in my presence again, you will actually have coughed all your blood.”

When he saw the sign displaying the word Ostrava, his mind landed back on earth, leaving behind the comet of the last night.

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