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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Sweet Music Playing in the Dark: Ch.2- Lip and Cheek (Craquaria)- Dill

A/N: Hi guys! Here’s the second chapter for sweet music. This is my first smut attempt, so I hope it’s okay lol. I’m working on a few things at the moment that will slowly trickle out now that I’m done with school. You can find me on AO3 @drdill. Thanks for reading!

Summary: Soon Max will be moving to New York, and Gio interrogates Kevin to see if they could last.

“Come on, it’s totally Bill.”

Max stuffs another piece of sushi in his mouth, watching Mamma Mia! intensely on the television, knees to his chest on my couch.

“I don’t disagree, I’m just saying this all could’ve been avoided with a paternity test.”

“Don’t try to get technical with this masterpiece.”

“Fair enough,” I giggle. “I wouldn’t be mad if Sam proposed to me, though.”

“Well, obviously. He could get it any day of the week.” I choke on my water.

Earlier in the day, he knocked on my door, my sandals between his fingers and a smirk on his lips. Probably thinking my life is a mess, he asked me about my swollen knee and it turned into an hour of us drinking coffee at my kitchen table. Wanting to repay him for his hospitality the night prior, I suggested sushi and a cheesy film in sweats. From my obnoxiously loud ABBA jam-session in the morning that left “Dancing Queen” in his head for the rest of the day, he chose appropriately.

The final scene ends to the Netflix home screen and I start picking-up empty soy sauce packets.

“Sorry for getting wasabi on your couch,” Max says, standing up to help clean.

“Don’t worry about it. There’s been worse things on it,” I tell him with a wink, immediately ready to punch myself in the face. Why the fuck do I open my mouth? He just laughs and shakes his head.

“I’m not even gonna ask.”

We head back to the couch, sitting opposite, staring anywhere but directly at each other. He’s stretched out towards me while I sit cross-legged and hands in my lap. Seconds pass and we’re waiting for the other to initiate some form of conversation, resorting to him making a fun beat with his hands on the side of the couch and this thigh, and me bobbing my head and shimmying my shoulders. A laugh escapes me.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks me.

“I don’t know,” I say, fully honest. “Most weekends where I do nothing aren’t this fun.”

It feels like a first date- painfully hesitant. For the twenty-seven hours I’ve known him, he’s surely made an impact. Maybe I’m just desperate for the attention he’s giving, and maybe the feeling is mutual, but I’d rather be entangled in blind affection than ignorant to it.

“I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting to make a friend during my quick stay,” he tells me, “but I’m so glad you fell on that fire escape.” He chuckles when I roll my eyes and observe the bandages wrapped around my bruised knee.

“As embarrassing as that was, I guess the garlic bread was worth it,” I smile. He shifts positions and crosses his legs like me, moving close enough for our knees to touch.

“Since we’re sharing thoughts,” he says, “something’s been eating at me.”

“And what is that?” He sighs. “Last night, when you said goodbye, we shared a quick hug and you were gone.”

My lips are between my teeth, unsure which direction this could turn.

“When just hours before, you wanted to kiss me like it was nothing.”

Relief quenches me like a cool glass of water.

“Well,” I reply, leaning a bit closer, “I can tell you that it wasn’t nothing.”

“You don’t say?” His draws circles on my kneecap through my black joggers. I nod in response when he greets my eyes, leering.

Like muscle memory, we find ourselves in the same position as last night. This time, the puzzle pieces fit together, completing what could’ve been my evening departure. His lips are even softer than they look, sweet and tangy like the lemonade he sipped during the movie. I smell his aftershave on my next inhale before deepening our kiss, bunching his shirt in my hands and pushing him onto his back. Propped on my elbows, I drag my tongue over his bottom lip and reconnect to his mouth, full of paradise. He leisurely travels down my spine to my lower back. For the time being, it’s a musical rapture.

Then there’s an abrupt knock at my door.

It was maybe fifteen seconds. Fifteen seconds. I’m fuming, nostrils flared and eyes slowly shutting.

“The universe really doesn’t want this, huh?” he says with a sympathetic grin. I peck his lips before standing and unlocking the door.

Kevin greets me with a huge smile- of all the people to ruin our moment.

“Hi, honey.”

“Someone’s back early,” I say, moderately bothered.

“I really didn’t want to bother you, but I must’ve left my key at my sister’s and Max wasn’t answering his phone. Could I use your spare?”

“Hi, Kevin.” Max pokes his head from the couch.

“Maxie!! Y’all already met!?” He’s elated at the sight of his friend, which quickly turns to sheer panic. “Oh shit. Did I jus-”

“No, it’s fine. We were just hanging out. Being neighborly and all,” I say before Max can speak, unenthusiastic jazz hands to follow. Max’s face drops and nods.

“Yeah, I can let you back in. It’s pretty late anyway,” Max tells Kevin, hopping off the couch and standing next to me.

“Thanks for the sushi, Gio.” He goes for an awkward hug, an even worse ending than last night.

“Anytime.”

Kevin watches us stiffly before giving me a hug.

“You up for brunch tomorrow?” he asks me. I hide my irritation with a cheeky smile.

“Duh! Max will you still be around?” I must’ve caught him off-guard.

“Hm? Oh, yeah! Yeah I can come.” He’s flustered.

“Wonderful. See you guys tomorrow?”

“I’ll knock when we’re ready!” Kevin replies. He leads the way out of my apartment with Max.

“Bye-bye.” I shut the door and reflect. Of all the people to ruin our moment. I love Kevin. Typically he annoys me with bombarding my phone with texts, but this time, nothing- the one time I don’t get minute-by-minute updates on his train ride home. I throw myself on the empty bed, frustrated and lonely.

—-

*knock knock knock*

I grab my wallet and head for the door in white converse, rolled black shorts, and matching black tank top. In the hallway, Kevin’s alone wearing a coral v-neck with khaki shorts and flip flops.

“Where’s Max?” I ask.

“Bathroom. He should be out in a sec.” He looks down at my legs.

“What happened to your knee?”

“Oh, I just fell,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

With those words, Max opens the door in a navy button-up and flip flops, still drying his hands on his shorts. His hair for the past couple of days was fluffy and unkempt, curling on his forehead. Today, it’s tamed with some wax, swooped to the side, and absolutely delightful.

The restaurant is a few blocks from our building. We get a table, a few drinks, and discuss Kevin’s quick return.

“So, why’d you come back so early?” I ask, still annoyed with prior events. Max, sitting next to Kevin, gives me a smug look that he can’t see.

“I overestimated how much time I can handle them,” he cackles. “Also, my momma kept showing me photos of her church friends’ single daughters. The mothafuckin’ nerve!” I laugh and swirl my drink.

My favorite part of these brunch dates is when Kevin’s adorable Caribbean mother calls him while he tells me about his latest hookup (in too much detail), trying to play matchmaker after mass. He always exaggerates his workload to explain how he, the gayest person on this planet, doesn’t have time for a girlfriend.

“I still have no idea how she hasn’t figured it out yet,” I tell him.

“One of these days, I’ll probably get fed up and tell her. We’re getting close.”

“You should’ve just asked how their sons are doing,” Max says. Kevin howls as he takes a satisfying sip of his drink.

Our food comes a bit later and we continue catching up, Kevin and Max telling old stories from college in-between bites as I listen. The more they speak, the more I realize they are the exact same person in different bodies. It’s almost scary; from karaoke nights at a cheap dive bar near campus, to reenacting musicals in their apartment with friends, I’m surprised Kevin’s barely ever mentioned him to me.

Unintentionally, I keep staring at Max. No particular reason, just watching him: the way he eats his fries, talks with his hands, covers his mouth after laughing too hard. I become so fixated that whatever Kevin is babbling about turns inaudible- I just keep looking at the slight stubble poking through his chin that he scratches every so often, the scar on his right elbow when he props it on the table, even how he nods along to every word Kevin says. He’s a completely average guy, but I’m mesmerized by every small detail.

“Would you like some more water?” I’m snapped out of the trance by our waitress holding a metal pitcher in front of me.

“Oh, um, yes please.” She refills my glass and walks off.

“I’ll be back. I’m going to the bathroom.” Max stands up and goes away from the table. I catch myself staring again as he walks away until he turns a corner and is out of sight. Then, I’m greeted with a fresh pair of eyes from Kevin. With the coy glare, I think he’s connected the dots.

“What?”

“I know that look, G,” he replies.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Since when were tiny white guys your type?”

“Since Friday night.” Apparently, I’m ready to spill.

“I was wondering when you guys met. Y’all were pretty close last night.”

“We met completely on accident. I tripped on the fire escape steps and he helped clean the scrape, then asked me to stay for dinner.”

“I thought you ‘just fell.’” He’s using air quotes, taunting me from my previous answer.

“I didn’t lie.”

“Y’all were being more than neighborly last night, weren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I totally cock-blocked you, didn’t I?”

I’m silent and avoiding eye contact, causing him to go wide-eyed.

“Oh my GOD.” He slaps the table with every word, way too excited and causing patrons to stare. “I knew it!”

“Shh!” I’m attempting to contain his emotions, pinning his arms down on the table. When he finally cooperates, I speak softly.

“We almost kissed Friday night, and I redeemed myself yesterday until you just had to ruin it, bitch!”

“Well if I would’ve known my friends were fucking I wouldn’t have knocked!”

“We didn’t think you’d be home until Monday!”

“True,” he cackles. “I can’t believe you two were ready to hook up that quick. Max typically isn’t into hookups.”

“I can’t believe you barely talked about him with me!”

“I didn’t think you’d be interested!”

“Well, I wasn’t until he started acting all hospitable. He’s so nice.”

“You’re telling me! If he wasn’t a top that’s half of my size I would’ve married him by now.” The last sentence almost has my jaw in my lap.

“That man is a top?”

“You are such a whore.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I only speak facts, babe,” he winks. “But you didn’t hear it from me.” A sip of his mimosa and Max appears from the corner again, sitting down and returning to his meal.

“What’d I miss?” he asks. I shake my head.

“Nothing much.”

——

Evening rolls around and I run upstairs to check on my laundry. When I throw the load in the dryer and come back down, Max is standing in the hallway with his bags, placing his ticket in his jacket pocket.

“Leaving so soon?” I ask with a smile.

“Very late, actually. My flight leaves in two hours and I haven’t even called an Uber.”

“Oh, shit. I shouldn’t keep you then.” I reach in for a hug and he wraps his arms around me softly.

“Be safe heading back.”

“I will,” he tells me. “See you in a few weeks.”

With that, he gives me a cheeky grin and walks quickly down the hallway to the elevators where this mess started. I go back inside, a deep sigh following. What am I doing?

My conversation with Kevin this morning has stuck with me all day. I need more answers. Stepping onto the fire escape with a blunt, I tap on his window until the curtains draw back and he opens it.

“You rang?”

“I’ve got some questions.” He laughs and shakes his head.

“Me too. But keep it quick. Grandpa is getting tired.”

We sit down, feet dangling from the platform when I light the joint and taste it’s sourness. I pass it to Kevin.

“Before I start, can you promise to be as honest as possible?”

“Yes, Judge Judy.”

“Okay, good. You said he normally doesn’t do hookups, right?”

“Nope. He hasn’t been with someone since sophomore year.” That’s weird.

“Seriously?”

“Well, kind of. He had an on-and-off thing with this asshole named Jake until graduation that fucked with his psyche a lot. He’d leave Max every couple of months and come running back like nothing happened. I wanted to kill him, then Max for falling for his bullshit.” Kevin’s getting re-heated just by talking about it, taking multiple hits before passing the blunt back to me. “He cares so much, probably too much.” I nod along.

“Anyways,” he says, “How much have you seen each other while I’ve been gone?”

“Probably like ten hours total.”

“In two days?”

“Yeah?”

“Wow. What kind of social butterfly did Max turn into since I left the west coast?”

“He keeps to himself a lot?”

“All of the time. That’s why I was so shocked when you guys were hanging out together, let alone doing whatever that was when I knocked.”

“Calm down, we didn’t get anywhere when you interrupted,” I giggle.

He sighs. “I don’t know what you did to him, but he seems really interested in you. I asked him about the weekend after brunch, and he was floored about goddamn sushi and Mamma Mia!.”

“Did you consider my incredible charm and wit?” I smirk and nudge his shoulder, causing him to sway and laugh.

“I’m sure that’s what it was. Listen, as much fun as this is, I’m falling asleep out here.” “Fine. One last question.” “What is it?” “…can I have his number?” I ask bashfully.

“You mean to tell me that y’all were getting hot and heavy and didn’t even bother to get that on night one?!”

“It wasn’t the first thought in my mind when I climbed on top of him, bitch!” He rolls his eyes with a smile, takes out his phone, and sends me his contact information.

—-

I didn’t text him. The first man to give me attention for more than three hours to hook up, and I’m blowing it to smithereens because I’m too nervous to make the first move.

A few weeks have passed since he left for Seattle again. He’s probably moving in right now as I answer emails and procrastinate by looking at old looks from this year’s Met Gala. A camp aesthetic? My fucking dream. A message appears on my Mac from Kevin.

Do I have to do everything for this relationship to blossom?

I’m confused, until my phone starts buzzing. I reach into my pocket and see that it’s Max. Oops.

“Hello?”

“Gio?”

“Hey, Max.”

“Hi. Uh, Kevin gave me your number.” I chuckle.

“I figured. How’ve you been?” “I’m so sore. Kevin and I have been moving boxes and furniture all day.” “Why didn’t Kevin let me know sooner? I would’ve helped out,” I tell him as if I couldn’t text him for a month.

“Well, that’s actually why I called you. Kevin just left and I still have a lot of unpacking to do. Are you busy?”

Surprisingly, I actually do have plans. Some coworkers invited me out to drinks tonight because I was in the room as they discussed plans, but it’s not the first time I’ve bailed on them. They definitely won’t miss me.

“Not at all! Send me the address and I’ll be there soon.”

“You’re a lifesaver! I’ll text it to you now.”

“Alright, I’ll see you soon.”

He sends me the address and I get dressed to bare the Brooklyn heat. Before leaving, I text Kevin back:

I’m pulling my weight. Don’t worry ;)

—-

“How was the drive?” I’m helping him load plates and glass cups into his cabinets while he stands on a chair.

“Too fucking long,” he says, “It took me five days to get here, but I stayed with my friend Brian when I got to Milwaukee, then Tony in Chicago. Every other place was just some crappy motel and a prayer that I wouldn’t get bed bugs.” I snicker at the last comment.

“At least you get to sleep in your own bed tonight.” “Yeah, finally.”

We finish putting away every bowl, spoon, and rubber spatula he brought and break down the boxes for the trash. His living room is barren besides a bunch of bubble wrap and tape lining the lightwood floor and an empty bookcase with hundreds of novels on the floor next to it. It smells like an old bookstore- the sunset bleeds through and highlights every dust particle floating around the room. Max stands by the small island in the kitchen, hands on his hips. He’s glowing, arms and face golden before the sun falls over a building and everything turns gray. Clearly exhausted, he gives me a smile and a look that begs us to return to the mess tomorrow.

“Welcome to New York.” I mirror his smile and pull him into a hug. He sways us back and forth in absolute fervor, dancing in my arms.

“We need to celebrate. Grab the wine in the fridge.”

As I get the bottle, which is the only thing in his fridge, he greets me with two coffee mugs- the Seattle skyline painted across both.

“The wine glasses must’ve been in a different box,” he says, a giant grin plastered on his face. “My mom made these.”

“Classy,” I smirk.

He follows behind with the bottle opener as I sit against the white wall, legs crossed and scrolling through his laptop’s music library. After uncorking, he pours almost full cups for the both of us, and slides down the wall next to me, moonlight from the window striking his leg as he stretches. To go with some acoustics, I jokingly search-up a Yule log video for mood lighting. He laughs and rolls his eyes watching the crackling embers on his computer screen.

“Dumb ass,” he whispers under his breath before raising his mug toward me. I do the same.

“To crushed dreams and expensive rent!”

“L'chaim!” I reply. We clash our drinks together and sip occasionally. I’m relieved he bought sweet wine this time, watching dusk swallow the sky.

Through fifteen minutes, radio silence. His shirt reflects a light orange from the fake flames, darkness encapsulating the living room. My head rests on the wall, eyes shut and feeling Max bobbing to the music every once in a while, silently pouring more wine into our mugs. No moments on my own fire escape have felt so peaceful, especially when the next song plays:

If you were falling,

Then I would catch you.

You need a light,

I’d find a match.

Max starts quietly humming the chorus, swaying back and forth with his eyes closed. I silently laugh when our arms brush against one another.

‘Cause I love the way you say good morning,

And you take me the way I am.

Eventually, his head softly lands on my shoulder as it did so perfectly weeks before. I hide the smile forming on my lips, slowly inching my fingers. Reaching his hand on the floor, they playfully dance on his knuckles before intertwining, giving a gentle squeeze.

I feel his prickly cheek glide across my skin until his lips connect, placing delicate kisses from my shoulder to collar bone. The sensation causes the hairs on my arm to stand, a deep sigh escaping. He continues sprinkling soft pecks along the area, using a finger to move the strap of my tank top and grazing my slicked, bare chest. My hand detaches from his and relocates to the side of his jaw, thumb tracing as he squeezes my thigh. I lean my head back in satisfaction, hungry for any contact, and he wastes no time moving off the wall and attacking my neck with more aggression. The suction tingles as his tongue soothes the spaces he bruises, his hand traveling up my thigh, nearly at my crotch. I can smell the wine in his breath.

“M-Max…” I’m barely making words. He raises a single finger and lightly drags my lips, silencing me. His control may be rousing, but I’m tired of waiting.

Growing impatient, I reach under his thigh and pull him towards me. His leg swings across and straddles my lap- I immediately feel his growing harness as he grips my cheeks. Thousands of fireworks go off in my head as I finally taste his lips on mine. It’s sour and velvety, our noses smash together upon impact, tongues sloppily discovering rhythm. Our music has been drowned by deep exhales and the fabric of our shorts at the slightest friction. I take his bottom lip between my teeth, eliciting a moan when our mouths reconnect. My arms pull him closer to make sure this isn’t some painful dream, teeth clashing and steadily rolling my hips. I reach under his shirt, outlining every back muscle during the passionate exchange. Without missing a beat, he starts lifting the white fabric, revealing his lightly-toned torso and prominent v-line. He smirks as my eyes grow wide, unsure of what I was expecting, and finds my lips again before tossing it near some boxes. I shut the laptop and wrap my arms around him once more.

After several minutes, we relax and catch our breath, still firmly attached with his arms around my neck and mine on his waist. He pulls me close, fingers lost in my hair with my head at his chest. I kiss his sternum as he controls his breathing.

“Took us long enough,” he smirks. I smile and place another kiss on his salty skin.

Looking up from his embrace, his face is shining, beads of sweat forming at his hairline with his mouth agape, forming a light smile. Standing slowly, he extends his hand, head motioning to the bedroom. I graciously accept as he helps me up and leads to the door- a quick admiration for his shoulder muscles and notice of a weird tattoo I’ll ask about later. We have more important plans.

The door shuts behind us and I can only see silhouettes, nightfall and car headlights pouring through the two windows near his bed. Barely in the room, I ditch my tank top on the floor and grab his waist from behind. His neck cranes back as I bruise the porcelain skin, fingers tracing up and down my arm. I feel his chin on my cheek and I lift my head, tenderly greeted by his lips. My hands drop to his hips, fingertips progressing to his stark erection as I stroke it’s length. Eagerly, he takes my wrist and moves it to his waistband, to which I duck underneath and grab his cock, thumbing the head and spreading the precum before pleasuring him.

“Oh my God,” he severs from my lips, groaning and grasping my neck hairs hard as I revert focus to his shoulder.

“I’ve been dreaming about you,” I whisper, my hand moves up and down excruciatingly slow, teasing something that’s been built-up for a month.

“Th-that makes two of us.” He stutters, breathing deeply as I continue to stroke his shaft.

“Show me,” I simper and bite his earlobe, my free hand rubbing his chest. With those words, his hands reach behind to grab my shorts at the waist and yank them to my thighs. He stops my action by turning around to face me, pulling the minimal clothing off of my body, exposing my erection. Kneeling before me, he places a chaste kiss on my inner thigh, dangerously close, before pushing me toward the bed.

My legs hit the sides of the mattress and cause me to sit close to the edge. Max travels down from my collar bones to my navel, lips and tongue blessing my torso as my fingers comb his hair when he falls back to his knees. He licks from base to head, swirling his tongue before taking me in his mouth. I’m brought to my elbows in luxury, relishing in his skill. His hand works in tandem on my shaft while the other grips my thigh.

Holy shit.

It doesn’t take long before I’m encapsulated- euphoric moans escape, head thrown back when he takes the entire length to the back of his throat and gags. My body starts to twitch, knowing I’m getting close. Sitting up, I place my hand at his cheek, slowing his pace to a halt, chocolate eyes dark with passion, skin waxen and pale blue in the moonlight, almost angelic.

I meet him halfway with my lips, salty and wet, finally pulling his shorts and underwear down. He steps out of this clothes and I scoot farther onto the bed when he climbs over me again and sloppily kisses my mouth. We roll around the pale cotton sheets, savoring the embrace and caressing each other’s bodies. Laying on our sides, his hand travels down my back and hastily grabs my ass, slapping it when he makes contact. My breath hitches- it burns in the best way possible. His stomach is warm against mine, legs intertwined with sensual murmurs filling the air.

“Fuck me,” I mumble against his lips. “Please.” Our kissing stops and he meets my eyes.

“Are you sure?”

I nod, giving him a quick peck, a grin forming on his lips.

He quickly slides off the bed while I move closer to the pillows. Rummaging through a bag close to the bathroom, he pulls out a condom and some lube and walks over to me, body shining from perspiration. A loud snap and the cap pops open, the sticky liquid coating his fingers before he sits in between my legs. I’m already balling the sheets in my hands, licking my lips and anticipating to crumble at his touch. His cold middle finger teases my entrance. It’s tingling, almost painful with build-up. There’s a sharp sting when he enters one finger, pumping slowly with his other hand tracing my abdomen. I sigh in relief at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut. He introduces a second finger, leaning down and peppering my hips with kisses, arm moving faster and faster within me. My chest jolts at his fingers dancing atop my rib cage and reaching my jaw, his thumb outlining my bottom lip. To his surprise, I take it in my mouth and begin to suck lightly

“Fuck,” is all he can breathe as I moan onto his finger. Eventually, he slows his pace before removing his fingers, eliciting a whimper from me and a smirk from him. I hear the crinkling of the condom wrapper as he tears it open and slides it over his cock. Propped on his arms at my sides, he leaves me with a glossy stare before settling back on his knees and grabbing my thighs.

The head grazes over my entrance until he thrusts idly about halfway. My knuckles turn white, clutching the bedding and hissing as I get used to the pressure. In a couple of movements, we groan in unison when he’s fully inside me. It feels like a bolt of electricity shooting through my veins at the sensation. He quickens the pace with each advance, holding my waist tightly.

I can barely see his face, making out small details: a single hair is curled on his forehead, brows furrowed close together, an expression of pure zeal in his eyes and mouth. My legs wrap around his hips and he balances over me, arms by my ears and chests becoming parallel, sweat exchanging when they graze each other.

I’m becoming overstimulated, grunting with every one of his thrusts, face turning red. I start shivering, getting close and panting. Stroking myself quickly, my back arches as beads of white coat his chest and drip onto my stomach. I collapse underneath him. Max’s hands find mine among the chaos and bring them over my head, interlocking fingers as he groans into my shoulder.

In a short moment, his body begins to contort. I feel the warmth inside me when he exhales loudly and finishes, arms wobbling and fighting to keep him up.

——

We lay in our sweat. The only sounds I can hear are our heartbeats and Max’s deep breaths next to me. I’m on my side with my arm draped over his chest while he scratches the back of my neck. He kisses my forehead softly before pushing himself off the bed and walking to the bathroom. The light he turns on blinds me when I roll over. Shielding my eyes, he comes back with a damp washcloth, wiping himself before handing it to me and climbing back into bed, examining the contusions blanketing my throat and chest. I toss the towel on the floor.

“You’re incredible.” Max’s first words to me after everything are as soft as every kiss he leaves on my hand and knuckles. If I weren’t drained, I’d pin him back down and show my appreciation, but instead I turn back to my side and lazily embrace him as we lock lips for the millionth time. I don’t want this night to end, but my head aches for sleep and he breaks to yawn. His head drops to the pillow, arm still around me with the other on his rib cage. My body curls into his, falling fast asleep.

He cares too much, but so do I, and I think we’ll be okay with that.

#rpdr fanfiction #craquaria #miz cracker #aquaria #smut #dill #sweet music playing in the dark #m/m au

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