Vic glanced across the room at his bandmate and best friend, smiling slightly as he caught the other boys eye. A blush rose to his cheeks, and he noticed one of the other boys glancing curiously between Jaime and himself. Tony always had a sort of sixth sense for what was happening between Vic and Jaime, though they hadn’t told anyone. They weren’t exactly secretive about it either, though. Tony narrowed his eyes at the couple, as if to say ‘Hey, dip shits, I know what you’re hiding,’ as Jaime winked at Vic, causing the older male to shift his eyes to the ground, biting softly on his bottom lip as his younger brother and fourth bandmate, Mike, walked into the area.

“We killed it tonight!” the tall, lanky twenty-eight year old exclaimed with a grin, knocking his brother on the back hard enough to almost, almost push him off his perch on the arm of Tony’s chair.

“Yeah, you did good, Mikey. The crowd loved you tonight,” Vic replied quietly, rubbing his arm softly and looking up at his brother with a slight smile.

“I did good? I think it was Jaime falling on his ass that really made the crowd happy. Isn’t that right, Tony?”

“I think it was the fact that he fell over Vic that really did it,” the quieter member spoke up with a smile, his eyes cutting between the two. Jaime swung out, pushing at the guitarist.

“Oh, shut it, Turtle. You would have tripped over him if he had been over there too.”

“No, I don’t think I would have, Jaime,” he said, his cheeks reddening slightly at the nickname he had to put up with. It wasn’t that he didn’t like turtles, he still loved them, he just didn’t like being teased for it, though he didn’t mind. Jaime shoved Tony once more, pushing him into Vic, causing the oldest of the four to fall into his brother. Mike almost lost his balance as he helped to steady his brother who had gripped onto the waist of the drummers pants as he began to fell.

“Nice catch, Whiskey Hands!” Jaime cheered, clapping as Vic righted himself with Mike’s help.

“He wouldn’t have had to catch me if you hadn’t shoved me off.”

“I didn’t shove you. I shoved Tony. You just got in his way after that. Duh.”

“Got in his way, or you pushed him that hard on purpose?” the long haired mexican asked with a grin, narrowing his eyes at the tall haired one. Tony looked up between the two, smirking softly to himself as Mike’s forehead creased in confusion. Mike ‘Whiskey Hands’ Fuentes was clueless, as always, to their flirting.

“You don’t really think I’m that low, now, do you, Victor?” Jaime asked with a laugh, rolling his eyes and fighting the urge to stick his tongue out.

“Yes, yes I do think you’re that low, 'Jamie',” Vic dared, his eyes narrowing as his full name, which honestly didn’t bother him, was thrown his way, the hidden innuendo lost on all but Tony.

“Mike! I heard that the crew got a hold of some fireworks. Wanna go investigate?” Mike’s head turned from his brother to Jaime, then, finally, to Tony with a grin.

“Sure thing, Turtle. Race you?” his child like antics were a much needed break from the tension in the room. Tony nodded and jumped up, running and fighting Mike out the door. Jaime and Vic didn’t seem to notice the commotion made by the other two leaving as they stared each other down, daggers flying between them.

“That’s not my name, bro.”

“But it could be.”

“And yet it’s not.”

“It is now.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“And since when does that matter?”

“I dunno. Since forever,” he said with a smile, sweeping his hair from his eyes. A cheeky grin donned his features and Jaime couldn’t help but smile back. He stood and took the few steps over to Vic.

“ And you know what?” he whispered as he grabbed Vic’s hand, pulling him to his feet. Vic’s chest slammed into Jaime’s, and Jaime wrapped his arm softly around Vic’s waist to keep him there, “My name still isn’t Jamie.”

“You’re right. Your name is Stinky Toes, right?” Vic teased, laughing softly at the scowl that overcame Jaime’s face.

“If that’s my name, then you’re a girl,” he whispered, kissing Vic’s nose softly.

“That would make me your girl, but I’d rather be your boy.”

“Vic, you already are my boy,” he said softly, pulling Vic closer and placing a soft kiss on his lips. He had known exactly how the conversation would go when this all started, and Vic had as well. It all led up to this, and this is what they were both aiming for; a soft kiss, alone, in each others arms. This was their moment, one of what was becoming a long list of stolen minutes away from everyone else in the safety of each others arms.