Chapter Text
“Our Aphelion” released to yet another chart-topping first week, and its music video steadily continued to rack up the views. With another successful release on the books, the members of MAV soon found their schedules filled to the brim: interviews, magazine shoots, meet and greets, guest appearances, recordings; not to mention planning for their first album, and the concert tour that would accompany it. Ordinarily this busy schedule would not have been an issue—such was the reality of life as an idol—except that now Challia Bull was spending a significant part of his days getting bombarded by his partner’s obvious flirting.
It wasn’t just that the Red Comet was ramping up his efforts to find the most provocative phrasing for his thoughts. If that had been the extent of Char’s men-ai, Challia could probably have survived. But Char seemed determined to take things a step further: whenever they were on camera, he took every opportunity for physical contact that he could get away with. He’d place a hand in the small of Challia’s back when they stood together for pictures, or lean on his shoulder when it wasn’t their turn to speak. During interviews and variety shows where the two of them were seated close together, Char’s hand always seemed to find its way to Challia’s thigh.
Occasionally Challia did his best to play along, returning Char's simpering gazes or playing off his various innuendos. This was for the fans, after all—he could handle a little playful flirting if it entertained their audience, and his “gentlemanly” stage persona lent itself easily to the illusion of a devoted partner. Most of the time, though, Challia merely sat back and let Char have his way, doing his best to ignore the physical contact even when the lightest touch made him want to scream.
If he only knew how much further I want to go…
After about a month of this—of having to watch the man he loved openly hit on him again and again, and being unable to reciprocate the way he wanted to—Challia felt that he was approaching the limit of what his lovesick heart could endure. As he rode the train to the Zeon offices one morning (clad in a hat, sunglasses, and face mask, of course—now that he'd returned to the world of celebrities, he was no longer able to move about the world undetected) he considered asking Char to tone it down a little. He’d seemed receptive to Challia’s needs before; an admission of discomfort, even if it wasn’t entirely true, was likely all it would take for the flirting to stop…
As Challia considered how he wanted to word his request, he caught his name in the conversation of a few young girls further down the train car.
“Is it just me, or has Challia been giving Char the cold shoulder lately?” said one. “Char keeps getting handsy, but Challia never seems to notice…”
“I know, right?” said another. “Now that Char's ready to return Challia's feelings, suddenly he's playing hard to get!”
“Imagine playing hard to get with the Red Comet!” a third chimed in. “What's he waiting for? Now that you've got your man's attention, you've gotta go for it, Challia Bull!”
“Right?” said the first. “Like—!”
“Just kiss already!!”
The three of them squealed in unison, followed by a chorus of giggles. Challia slouched a little in his seat and pulled his mask higher on his face.
If they knew the whole story, maybe they’d be laughing at my misfortune instead…
There was a reason Challia was hesitant to reciprocate Char’s obvious affection: the simple fear that his heart would no longer be able to distinguish what was real and what was just an act. That if he allowed himself to participate, to get swept up in the illusion, then it would only get that much harder to find the line between coworker and lover. It was difficult enough to keep a clear head as things were, with Char practically throwing himself at him on a daily basis. If he let himself believe, for even a moment, that Char Aznable was truly in love with him…
… then he might not be able to hold his feelings back any longer.
And there were some lines he could not, would not, cross.
His stop came, and Challia hurriedly gathered his things and stepped off the train. He was met by a full-sized, floor-to-ceiling advertisement lining the back wall of the platform opposite: a photo of Char posing seductively in a white button-down shirt that was soaked through, providing a tantalizing glimpse of the skin beneath. In the lower corner was an elegant red bottle and the name of a perfume brand; one of the ad campaigns that had been in the works since before MAV’s debut, no doubt. The sight of Char gazing at him so invitingly from across the room, even when he knew it was just a photograph—his heart skipped a beat, and he cursed himself for it.
What I wouldn’t give, for him to look at me like that and mean it.
A second curse, muttered under his breath.
We’re just coworkers. We’re just coworkers…
* * *
With another long day ahead of him, Challia Bull would have to find time to make his request between engagements.
That day, MAV was scheduled to appear on a popular TV program known for promoting artists with live performances. They could perform any song they wished, but because the show would be airing live, they would only be given a single take. As a matter of course, they’d selected their currently-trending song “Our Aphelion.”
Even though Challia could perform the song in his sleep by now, he still couldn’t help feeling nervous as they walked onto the stage. It was the first time they’d be performing the song in full in this kind of setting. There was no studio audience watching, and only the camera crew would have their eyes on him—but still he couldn’t shake his nerves. With only one take, there would be no room for error. If Char tried anything that caught him off guard, there would be no chance to recover…
“Hey,” Char said, glancing over at him. “Relax.”
“Trying…” Challia replied with a sigh.
“You’ll do great,” said Char, smiling. “I know you will.”
Challia took a deep breath.
We’re just coworkers.
“Thanks, Char.” Challia managed a smile in return. “I’ll give it my best.”
“That’s my MAV!” Char gave him an encouraging pat on the back.
Your…? Challia found himself thinking, but the lights dimmed to signal that they would be starting soon. The show’s director motioned for the camera crew to get into position, and Challia took that as his cue to approach the microphone stand closest to him. Rather than ear-mounted pieces, they would be using more traditional microphones for this performance. Char made sure his microphone was turned on; Challia followed suit. As they took their places on the stage, staring down the cameras, Challia steeled his resolve.
“Imagine that there’s nothing else outside this room. No fans, no cameras. Clear your head and focus on me.”
At times like these, Challia found himself remembering Char’s advice from their first practice. While they were singing together, nothing else mattered—that mindset had always pushed him through his misgivings, and he’d been able to forget his worries for a time. He wondered if Char had noticed the ways Challia had been relying on him since then… but that was neither here nor there.
The director gave the signal, and the cameras began to roll.
“Hey there, viewers!” said Char cheerfully—as usual, his performance was like a switch had been flipped. “Thanks for watching! In case you didn’t know, I’m your very own sparkling comet, Char Aznable!”
“And I’m his down-to-earth partner, Challia Bull,” Challia added warmly. “Together, we’re the duo group MAV.”
“Today we’ll be performing our brand-new song, ‘Our Aphelion’,” said Char. “We hope you’ll listen to the very end!”
The two of them took their microphones off the stands and went to stand in the agreed-upon spots. Once they were in position, the backing track floated in from speakers placed around the stage.
This is easy. I can do this much. This song had no complex choreography, no extra movements to remember; all Challia needed to do was to stand there and sing.
Char, of course, seemed to have other ideas. As his verse came up, he sidled closer to Challia and gently tugged his shirt sleeve to get his attention. Challia looked over at him, eyebrow raised, but Char only smiled back.
What are you plotting now, Char…?
Char timed his movements carefully: Challia felt a hand in the small of his back as the chorus began, just in time for it to slip to his waist and draw him closer for the line “If I could pull you into my arms, and take you far away from here”. It was so deliberate that Challia couldn’t help flushing. He looked over at his partner with as straight a face as he could manage, even if internally he was fuming.
Watch it, Char. We only get one shot at this.
And Char winked at him, as if to say: And?
Char let him go, but Challia’s eyes remained on him even as he nonchalantly put some distance between them. As he began singing his next solo verse, Char glanced over his shoulder and made a sort of beckoning motion with his head.
Fine, Challia thought. Two can play that game.
Challia approached him, following Char’s verse with his own response. And then—
“I brought my hand up gently to your cheek…”
Challia had closed the distance between them now, standing much closer to his partner than was strictly necessary. He reached up and took the back of Char’s head in his free hand, bringing their faces within inches of each other and forcing his partner to look him in the eyes.
For the first time since they’d known each other, Char Aznable looked genuinely caught off guard. It was only for a moment—without missing a beat, he took hold of Challia’s microphone and pulled it closer to his own lips, singing into it:
“Just to wipe those tears away, and yet—”
Challia’s voice joined his partner’s, reciting the next couplet mostly from memory; he was no longer entirely focused on the performance. The feeling of Char’s hand on his, holding the same mic together, was electrifying—so much so that he couldn’t help wondering if Char was feeling the same thing, their hearts racing in tandem…
“You were still completely out of reach
Across the world, as far away as you can get…”
He almost didn’t want to let go, but he knew he couldn’t keep Char in his grip for the rest of their performance. He slowly stepped back, gliding his fingers along Char’s jawline before finally releasing him.
The rest of their performance was comparatively tame; it seemed like Challia’s sudden heel turn had shocked his partner into behaving himself. Char’s eyes lingered on him for a while, even as he was supposed to be singing to the cameras. As the song meandered to its conclusion, Challia wondered… was the longing in those blue eyes real or fake?
* * *
Following their three-minute performance, the show’s host sat down with them to fill the rest of the time slot with another interview. After that, it was back to their green room to change clothes and prepare for their next appointment. Challia sighed lightly as he swapped one shirt for another, trying not to think about his performance that morning. He’d let his desire get the better of him, showing a side of himself he’d been trying to keep buried. It was all for the show, of course, but he still worried he’d overdone things a little bit. Grabbing Char’s head like that…
That felt good. The look on his face was so worth it. Were his eyes always that pretty? His hair was so soft, too… Wait, what am I thinking—?!
“Challia?”
Char’s voice startled him from his thoughts; he jumped a little in his seat.
“Ah—yes?”
Challia felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. Char had finished changing already, sunglasses and all; he met Challia’s eyes with a smile.
“I’m going to grab a drink from the vending machine before our next thing,” he said. “Want anything?”
“I’m alright, but thank you for the offer.”
“Of course,” Char replied. He did not let go of Challia’s shoulder. “You were great out there, by the way. We don’t get to see this side of you very often. I bet the fans loved it.”
“You don’t think it was too much?”
“Not at all,” said Char. “To be honest with you, I’m impressed—not a lot can get my heart racing like that anymore. Well done, Challia Bull.”
“Ah…” Challia flushed a little. “Thank you…”
“I’ll see you in a bit,” said Char; he gave Challia’s shoulder a little squeeze before releasing him. Challia kept his eyes on his partner until the dressing room door had closed behind him.
Challia let out the breath he hadn’t even been conscious of holding, then leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.
“What am I even doing…?”
It had been quite some time since Challia had last felt the way he did now—the normally calm sea of his heart churning with conflicting emotions. The uncertainty was what was killing him: did Char feel the same way about him, after all? It was impossible to tell. The Red Comet seemed to enjoy being intentionally vague with him. Was he flirting, truly? Or simply toying with him, seeing how long he could get away with pushing the envelope until he finally found the limit of Challia’s patience? When would he be satisfied?
This is torture.
Challia wanted him so badly it left a physical ache in his chest. But the thought of actually telling his partner this—or worse, letting his longing get the better of him again—was equally suffocating.
What would Char say, if Challia admitted to falling for his kayfabe flirting? Mistaking his plays at affection for genuine romantic interest? He couldn’t imagine anything more pathetic. He’d be no better than the kinds of fans who have trouble with boundaries, believing their parasocial love to be a real affair. If he confessed, it would only put their existing friendship in jeopardy. That, above all else, stayed his hand. The thought of losing the one person he’d come to rely on was far more terrifying than having to suck it up and bury his feelings indefinitely. And was Char Aznable even interested in men to begin with…?
At the same time…
In the moment that he’d taken hold of Char’s head on that stage, their faces mere inches from each other—he’d gotten the distinct yet inexplicable feeling that his partner was not opposed to a little manhandling.
He had, in fact, seemed a little bit into it.