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pippin-katz · 3 months

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Like A Love Song

Pairing: M/M | Crossover Ship - Marco Peña/Johnnie Blackwell Media: The Kissing Booth 2 (2020), High Strung (2016) Rating: T (for language) Word Count: 2,098

Marco is having a shitty day and goes to the park with his guitar to relax, but ends up having an interesting interaction with the attractive violinist who plays at the same spot.

A/N: I literally wrote this in a fit of inspiration and need for a romcom short story, but it came out pretty nice, so I thought I'd share here! Enjoy!

As the subway slowed to a stop, Marco lifted his wrist up to read his watch. He read 1:26 and heaved out a heavy sigh as he stepped off the subway car onto the platform. His guitar bounced against his back as he made his way up the stairs. The breeze greeted him by playing with the dark curls resting on his forehead, but the sun was nowhere to be found. It seems that it was aware of Marco’s melancholy mood and opted to spend the day behind the clouds in solidarity.

His day had been unpleasant since he woke up twenty minutes late that morning. In his haste to catch the bus to campus and make it to class on time, he hadn’t been able to brew himself a cup of coffee and forgot to put his laptop back into his bag after studying the night before. He ended up being forced to take notes by hand, leaving it cramping and sore afterwards, as well as giving him a wicked headache. Such pain had been a hindrance to practicing for his thesis performance in the following class.

Music and migraines don’t mix well. After only an hour, his professor had noticed his lack of progress and given him a pitying look. Marco couldn’t remember the last time he felt so embarrassed as they suggested he take the rest of the day off.

He had taken the advice, intending to purchase lunch from his favorite food court restaurant, only to discover that it was closed for some reason. He’d settled for a lackluster protein bar from the vending machine.

That’s what led up to where he was now, begrudgingly exiting the subway station. As silly as it was, all the obstacles and inconveniences caused a lump to form in his throat and heat to prickle behind his eyes. Marco was disappointed, exhausted, and hungry, and all he wanted to do was relax, even if it was only for a few hours.

Despite the lack of sun, it was pleasant outside. The subway station he’d gotten off at was next to a park that he often visited when he needed fresh air. Sometimes he brought his guitar with him and played whatever he wanted, not caring about anything, and letting the music take him wherever it led. If he was lucky, occasionally someone would drop some change or bills into his open guitar case. He didn’t play for tips but being a college student with a major in music, he never turned them down. Overall, it was an enjoyable experience.

There was only one problem: Hot Leather Jacket Violin Guy.

He was exactly what he sounded like. He was tall and pale, with dark hair that swooped down to fall just barely over his eyes. His lips were full and looked absurdly soft. He always wore casual alternative clothing that was typically topped off with the leather jacket his nickname implied. The final piece was, of course, the aforementioned violin. It was a dark brown that looked nearly black, and though Marco was certainly no violin expert, he could tell it was one of high quality; it was definitely not bought from an everyday music store. He was good, really good. The sound that came from it was richer than any other he’d heard. Every note seemed to sing with emotion.

Hot Leather Jacket Violin Guy was stunning, incredibly skilled, and Marco fucking hated him. Well… sort of.

There was no logical reason for it. Despite making eye contact a few times, they’d never spoken to each other. It wasn’t as though Violin Guy had done anything to warrant his hatred. All he did was stand in the same spot every day, look unfairly beautiful, and play the violin. Maybe that was all he needed to do for Marco to dislike him; maybe if he stopped and thought about it for a few minutes, he’d be able to chalk it up to projecting his own insecurities onto the handsome stranger.

However, on this particularly shitty day, he couldn’t care less. Marco was not someone who asked for much. He didn’t find himself asking some divine power for favors regularly, but today all he wanted was for Hot Leather Jacket Violin Guy to not be at the park.

Luck was not on his side, as should have been evident to him from the events of the day leading up into this moment. Marco trudged along the sidewalk to his favorite spot in the park; it was a coincidence that it was the same place Hot Leather Jacket Violin Guy played. There was a small fountain with tables around it. The concrete turned into pretty tiles, making it look like a little plaza. It was by far the best part of the park in his opinion, and he wasn’t going to let some brooding violinist with a pretty face ruin that for him.

That was his thought process as he approached the fountain. The soft sound of running water was accompanied by the telltale notes of the violin, allowing him to hear the other man’s presence before he could see him. Marco rounded the fountain and was greeted with the visual of the violinist; he pointedly refused to acknowledge if his heart sped up.

As usual, Violin Guy was wearing some ripped black jeans, a band t-shirt, and his signature leather jacket. His eyes were closed as he let his bow glide across the strings, and there was a barely noticeable sway in his body as he played.

Marco recognized another musician with true passion for their craft easily, which only made him more annoyed. It was harder to justify his distaste for the guy when he shared a musical soul. He sighed as he shook his head and wandered over to sit under a tree.

Marco’s hands were still a bit sore from class that morning, but it wasn’t unbearable, and he wasn’t planning to play anything difficult. He methodically removed his guitar from his back and set the case down in front of himself. He moved slowly as he unzipped it, retrieving the instrument.

The guitar’s wood was familiar and smooth under his fingertips. Its cool surface was soothing. He plucked a few notes experimentally, adjusting the tightness of the strings to find the perfect pitches. Once everything was properly tuned and prepared, Marco closed his eyes and exhaled.

Stress and anxiety had been clinging to him all day like a soaking wet blanket, weighing him down and sticking to him uncomfortably, but when he focused on the cool breeze on his skin and the sounds of nature around him, it slowly melted away. His fingers moved on their own as he strummed and plucked whatever notes called to him. He let his melancholy mood move his music rather than forced himself to play something more upbeat; fighting negative emotion was a waste of time. The improvised melody reflected his mental state perfectly.

Marco sighed as he paused at the end of a phrase, feeling as blue as the cloudy sky overhead. It really had not been a good day.

That’s when he heard the melody echoing back to him through the voice of the violin a few feet away. Marco looked up from his seat on the grass, eyes landing on the Violin Guy, who was standing a little closer than he had been before.

Instinctively, Marco scowled. What? Did this guy think he was better than him? Was he playing the same tune just to demonstrate how much lovelier it sounded when he played it?

As Violin Guy played, he glanced his way, making deliberate eye contact. Marco felt himself freeze under his gaze, unable to look away as he listened to solemn notes come from the other man’s instrument. He captured the same sadness that Marco had originally played with, but then he added to the tune. When he listened very closely, he could hear an almost questioning tone underlying some of the notes.

The man met his gaze again as he paused, his expression neutral but eyes expectant. Tingles ran up and down his spine; it was a question. Marco looked down at the guitar in his hands. He debated for a moment. For some reason, Violin Guy had noticed his negative mood and chose to approach him, speaking a musical language that only they understood. Marco didn’t know why he was doing this, but he would be lying if he wasn’t curious about the man. This was his opportunity. He poised his fingers to answer.

He licked his lips as he concentrated, plucking out a slightly different melody. His disappointment and exhaustion bled into the music. Marco closed his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows as he felt it all flow through the guitar. When he finished the phrase, he turned his head toward the violinist.

Violin Guy gave him a tiny nod, so small that Marco wasn’t sure if it was a nod at all. Then he raised his bow to the strings once more and spoke back. A series of notes floated through the air. They were soft, maintaining a somewhat melancholy feeling, but there was a twist in them. It was something hopeful and kind that made Marco’s chest expand and his eyes grow hot. Against all odds, his lips quirked up just a little bit as he listened to the sweet sound of the violin.

He met the man’s eyes again, his own widening as he received a small smile in return; he didn’t think he had ever seen Violin Guy smile before. He nodded down to the guitar as he continued to play, the tune becoming more hopeful as he continued. It was an invitation.

Marco felt his throat close up as his cheeks warmed, but despite the nerves, he began to play along. He was hesitant at first, but the two instruments blended beautifully as they performed their impromptu duet. There was so much feeling and personality in each sound, but somehow, they came together in just the right ways to create a masterful melody. Marco’s lips grew into a true smile as the frustrations of the day left his mind. His playing grew livelier, brighter, and by the time they finished their little song, he couldn’t even remember why he was so upset to begin with.

He beamed at the violinist as he lowered his guitar back into his lap, and the other man looked down bashfully, nervously tapping his thigh with his bow. Then he straightened his posture and stuck his chin out a bit. He made eye contact with Marco and walked directly up to him without pausing.

Marco’s eyes widened as he was offered a hand. Uncertainly, he tried to meet him in a handshake, but the violinist grabbed his wrist instead, making him gasp. He tucked his violin under his arm and fished into the pocket of his leather jacket. Marco found himself unable to speak as he pulled out a pen. He opened it with his teeth and quickly scribbled onto his skin.

When he finished, he released Marco’s hand and cleared his throat. His pale cheeks had grown quite red. He opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind. He closed it, and instead nodded to him before turning to walk away, pretending as though he was unbothered when the opposite was obvious. Marco blinked rapidly, frozen for a moment. His skin still tingled from the other man’s touch. He looked down at the writing, his heart leaping as he recognized a phone number.

There was also a note underneath the digits. His cheeks flushed with heat as he grinned shyly to himself. The man had written: “I hear music when you smile. – Johnnie”

Marco looked up to see the violinist, Johnnie, with his violin packed away and posed to leave. He rubbed the back of his neck, figure tense as he kept glancing between him and the ground. Marco flashed him his most dazzling smile, and the tension in his shoulders disappeared as relief washed over his expression. He raised his hand to give him a small wave as he began to walk away. Marco returned it enthusiastically and watched with his grin still in place as he left.

Once Johnnie was gone, he ghosted his fingertips over the ink on his wrist. He pulled out his phone and created a new contact with the number. Marco inputted his name but tapped to add a note. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he typed: Hot Leather Jacket Violin Guy <3

#fanfic #crossover ship #marco peña x johnnie blackwell #the kissing booth 2 #marco peña #taylor zakhar perez #high strung #johnnie blackwell #nicholas galitzine

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