**A/N: The song Steven sings in this chapter is part of an original song I wrote called 'Never (going to let you go)'❤️**

Birds tweeted happily as morning arrived, sunlight streaming into the bedroom of the Bach household. The soft, golden rays filtered through the curtains, casting playful shadows onto the furniture before coming to rest on the sleeping couple.

Steven and Sebastian lay intertwined, their bodies snug in each other's embrace. Steven's hand rested on Sebastian's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, while Sebastian's arm wrapped protectively around Steven's waist, as if shielding him from the world outside.

Steven groaned as he stirred, burying his into Sebastian's neck, determined to block out the morning. Sebastian's skin was hot against his own, and he felt the comfort of the bed pulling him back in. Beside him, Sebastian stirred, mumbling something incoherent as he pulled the duvet over his head and rolled over. But as Steven continued to lay there, reality started to creep in like an unwelcome guest.

He sat bolt upright, eyes darting to the alarm clock. 9:45am. His chest tightened with panic. Band practice started at eight, and here he was, tangled up in bed with Sebastian Bach in New Jersey, when he should be in New York busting his ass. Today was particularly demanding - almost all-day rehearsal, finalising the setlist, and a gruelling gym session to prep for touring. Touring was physically demanding as well as mentally, and he needed to be in peak shape to command the stage. But he'd completely blown it off. The band was sure going to be pissed off when he arrived.

"Fuck!" Steven cursed, jumping out of bed, scrambling for his discarded shirt and tripping over his jeans in a rush.

"Steven?" Sebastian's voice was thick with sleep. "Where are you going?" He propped himself up on his elbow, squinting at him with sleep-clouded eyes.

"I'm late for rehearsal!" Steven snapped, yanking his shirt over his head. "I should have been there almost two hours ago!"

Sebastian groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. He slowly sat up, the duvet slipping off his torso, revealing his bare chest. "At least eat before you go," he insisted, his voice softening. "You can't perform on an empty stomach, princess."

Steven paused, his frantic energy momentarily subdued by the affection in Sebastian's voice. Even in the midst of his panic, Sebastian's care cut right through it. It was these little things that made Steven feel like the luckiest man in the world.

He sighed, nodding his hair in reluctant agreement. “Okay, fine,” he muttered. “But it’ll have to be quick. Tom, Joey, Brad, and Jimmy will have my head when I get to the studio.”

Sebastian chuckled, sliding out of bed. “I’m sure they’ll understand,” he said, descending the stairs and padding into the kitchen, the floorboards creaking slightly under his weight.

Steven leaned against the kitchen counter, watching with affection and interest as Sebastian opened the fridge and began gathering ingredients.
He tapped his fingers anxiously, his eyes flitting between him and the clock on the wall. “You don’t know them like I do, Bas. I’m already not very popular right now.” His foot began to tap uncontrollably, betraying his growing impatience.

Sebastian flashed a reassuring smile as he popped a bagel into the toaster. “Just do your best, babe.”

Steven couldn't help but smirk. “And aren’t you supposed to be with your band right now? “They’ll skin you alive.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let them,” Sebastian grinned, pulling Steven into a warm embrace. I’ll be all in one piece when you see me next, I promise.”

The moment was brief, but the closeness steadied Steven's nerves.

“Here,” said Sebastian, breaking away as the bagel popped up. He smeared cream cheese on it and handed it to Steven. “Something to fill you up.”

Steven took the bagel gratefully, but he couldn't resist leaning in for a kiss, capturing Sebastian’s lips in his own. The kiss was soft, lingering, and filled with sweetness that made him wish he could stay there forever.

“Babe,” Sebastian murmured against Steven's lips, his hands slipping to Steven's waist. “as much as I want to keep this going, you have to go…”

“I know.. I know…”

Before he could fully disengage, Sebastian gently but firmly grabbed Steven’s chin, tilting Steven's face up to meet his gaze. “Don’t look so sad. We’ll see each other again soon.” His thumb traced the line of Steven's jaw, offering a final moment of tenderness.

Steven closed his eyes to savour the moment, a contented sigh leaving his lips. “I know. I just wish I didn’t have to leave so soon.”

“I wish it, too, but that’s how the rockstar lifestyle goes.”

Still seeing the melancholy look on Steven’s face, Sebastian drew him into a mind-numbing kiss.

Steven responded instantly, one hand resting on the back of Sebastian’s neck and the other grabbing a fistful of his hair, pulling it tightly. Sebastian groaned into Steven’s mouth at the pull, a mix of pain and pleasure surging through his body.

Their lips moved in perfect synchrony, a dance of desperate need and tender affection. The world outside melted away, leaving only the warmth of their bodies merged together and the electric current flowing between them. Steven’s fingers curled tighter into Sebastian’s hair, pulling him even closer as if the distance between them could never be close enough. Sebastian’s hands gripped Steven’s hips, pushing him back against the counter, deepening the hungry kiss. A small smile formed on his lips as he felt Steven melt under his touch as his fingers traced the dips and curves of his body.

He didn’t want to let go. He couldn’t. He wanted this moment to go on forever.

The kiss became more frantic and consuming with every passing second. They finally broke apart, gasping for air. Their breaths mingled as their foreheads pressed together, still holding onto each other like a lifeline.

“I hate that I have to go,” Steven whispered, cupping Sebastian’s face.

“I hate it too,” Sebastian whispered back, his hands moving up to Steven's waist.

“But we'll make the most of our time together when we see each other again, I promise.” He pressed a tender kiss to Steven's forehead, a silent promise that this wasn’t their last time together.

“You go get ‘em, Stevie. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

With one final look at Sebastian, Steven grabbed his keys and dashed out the door. The cool morning air hit him as he jumped into his car, the engine roaring to life as he sped through the winding New Jersey streets. Every red light, every slow-moving car felt like an eternity, his anxiety spiking with each passing second. The band was sure to give him an absolute earful when he got to the studio. He’d be lucky if they didn’t rip him apart.

~

By the time Steven finally pulled up to the studio, it was almost noon. He barely parked the car before bolting out and sprinting inside. His heart pounded in his chest as he pushed open the door to the practice room.

The band looked up from their instruments, their expressions a mix of frustration and disappointment.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Tom snapped, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

Brad, who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded, shook his head in disbelief. “Steven, seriously? We’ve been waiting almost three hours. We've got a schedule to keep.” His voice was laced with irritation, the words cutting into Steven like a knife.

Steven winced, the full weight of their disapproval crashing down on him. “Sorry, I lost track of time. Let’s just do the setlist and warm-up.” Steven tried to muster a sheepish smile, but it faltered under their scrutiny.

Jimmy, his hands planted on his hips, shot Steven a glare. “We’ve already done the setlist. And thanks to you and your incompetence, we’re behind schedule. We needed this time to fine-tune everything, but instead you decided to muck about doing god knows what.”

Steven huffed, feeling a mixture of anger and guilt twist in his gut. He threw his hands up in frustration. “Without me? I’m the leader. I should have the last word,” he retorted, though he could hear the defensiveness.

Tom's eyes narrowed, his irritation deepening. “You’re not the leader, you’re the lead singer,” he corrected.

Joey, who had been quietly observing, stepped forward, his expression one of weariness. “Let’s just warm-up,” he interjected, his voice calm but firm. He moved over to his drum kit, settling onto the stool with a practised ease, twirling his drumsticks between his fingers.

The others sighed, the tension in the room palpable as they reluctantly agreed. Arguing would only put them further behind schedule.

“Fine,” said Tom, taking his place with a heavy sigh. “I hope you’re ready to jump in and catch up. We’re going to have to run through all the new songs again.”

Steven nodded, quickly setting up his microphone and adjusting the stand. He took a deep breath, centering himself in front of the microphone. As the band began to play, he threw himself into the music, letting the rhythm and melody consume him. He poured his heart and soul into every song, driven by a complex mix of passion, love, and determination.

“Cause I'm never going to let you go. Even when the world turns cold and the sun won't shine, I'm never going to let you go. I'll hold you tight in my arms 'til the world stops spinning, ‘cause I'm never going to let you go.”

As the lyrics spilled from his lips, tears began to stream down Steven's face. He sang with an intensity that even surprised him, the emotions he had been bottling up for years finally breaking out.

The song was a raw reflection of how Steven felt about Joe leaving the band and how he wished he could have done things differently. Each lyric was like a shard of glass slicing through the guilt and regret that had festered in him for years. He’d wanted to scrap the song a hundred times, but it was a part of his past, a chapter of his life that had moulded him into the person he was today.

“When you lose your way and you can't see the light, I'll be there by your side as we dance through the fight. In this crazy world we live in, where you lose control, don't you know who's going to make it alright?

No, no. no, babe. I’m never, never, never going to let you go. I’m here to stay for the rest of time. I’ll never ever let you go again…”

The words came out like a confession, his voice trembling as he reached the final note. The song slowly came to a close, but the emotions it stirred were far from over. Steven felt his throat tighten and he fought to keep his composure as tears spilled from his eyes, the droplets falling to the ground and pooling at his feet. He made no move to wipe them away, letting them fall freely.

A heavy silence hung in the air between the men. Everyone stared at Steven, their expressions a mix of shock and reverence. They’d never heard him sing with such raw emotion and pain in his voice, as though he had pulled each note from the deep, most wounded parts of his heart. It was both beautiful and heartbreaking to witness, knowing Steven was reliving that pain while pouring his soul into the lyrics.

Joey was the first to break the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “Wow… Steven.. That was incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything like that before.”

The others murmured in agreement, their faces still etched with the impact of what they'd just heard. All of them were visibly moved, holding back tears of their own.

Steven didn’t respond right away. He was still caught up in his emotions he'd unleashed. It was as if singing this song had opened a floodgate, releasing all the heartbreak, sadness and anger that he’d been carrying for the past three years, he’d laid it out naked and clear. As painful as it was, it also felt like a breath of fresh air that he hadn't known he needed.

Jimmy was next to speak, his voice tinged with awe. “We all know you’re an absolute powerhouse on stage, but that… that was something else."

“Thanks, Jimmy. That means a lot,” mumbled Steven, his head hung low, still trying to regain his equilibrium.

“We already recorded it, and you never fail to blow our minds when you sing, but this time was different,” added Tom, smiling warmly. “Imagine when we perform it live. If you can bring us to tears, then you will definitely make the fans cry.”

“That’s what makes it so great,” Brad chimed in, nodding thoughtfully. “We really felt your pain, and such honest, real emotions is what gets people to connect with the music.”

“Perhaps that’s what we need to do more,” said Joey, his voice contemplative. “Unfiltered, real emotions in our songs.”

The band members quietly agreed, still digesting the intensity of Steven’s performance. There was a collective understanding that something had shifted, not just in Steven but in the band's dynamic as well.

“Let’s take a quick break,” Joey suggested. “I think we all need it.”

As the others began to disband, Tom placed a hand on Steven's shoulder, helping him in his tracks. “Steven.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be late next time, okay?”

A small, rueful smile tugged at Steven's lips. “No promises.”

They all chuckled, the tension in the room finally easing.

Joey, ever the reason, added, “Just remember that we’re a team, okay? If one of us falls behind, we all fall behind, so try and be top of your game, okay? No more late starts.”

“Exactly,” Jimmy agreed. “But you smashed it today, which is what matters.”

Steven nodded. “Alright. I’m going to go outside for a smoke break, I’ll see you guys in ten.”

“Hey, take this with you,” Joey called, tossing him a water bottle. Catch!”
Steven turned, catching the water bottle with a nod of thanks. “Thanks, Joey. I could use the refresher.”

Outside, the warm breeze greeted him as he stepped into the alley behind the studio. He set his water down and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with practised ease. The first drag was long and deep, the nicotine instantly calming his frayed nerves. But even as the smoke curled from his lips, his mind still raced, the thoughts tumbling over one another in a choice whirl.

He could still feel the stain of tears on his face, a physical reminder of the emotional purge he'd just gone through. Wiping them away with the back of his arm, he leaned against the brick wall, staring up at the clear, blue sky.

Memories of Joe flooded his mind, each one bittersweet. Everything had been so much simpler back in the band’s early days, when they were just a group of kids with big dreams and nothing to lose. Now, they were successful musicians with millions of fans and five studio albums. But even with all the fame and fortune, it didn’t fill the void Joe had left behind. Joe had been more than just a bandmate; he was Steven's best friend, his confidant. But now he was gone, and the band would never be the same without him.

Steven took another drag, the smoke curling around him like a shroud as he tried to figure out how to fix what had been broken.

He needed Joe back in the band. Sure, Jimmy was talented with a wonderful musical mind, but he could never hold a candle to Joe. Joe was the original, the heart of Aerosmith, and without him, it felt like they were just going through the motions. Steven missed him - the way he'd get pissed off at him, the way he'd push him to be better. He needed that fire back, that spark that only Joe could ignite.

But the real question was, did Joe want to come back? Could they even repair the riff that had torn them about? Steven sighed, flicking his cigarette away, uncertainty gnawing at him. But he knew one thing for sure: he had to try. Both for the band, for the music, and for the friendship that meant more to him than anything else in the world.