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Kraken is Number Two is Diego. Vanya is Number Seven. She is the only one who always calls him Diego. Even their Mother, who named them all except for Number Five now lost in time, calls him Kraken. He wants to call them Allison and Luther, wants to ask if they miss Ben like he and Vanya do, but that's not how it works. Monocle says the team who will save the world has to move pass sentimental names bestowed on them by a mannequin. Vanya is the only one who disobeys. He falls asleep thinking of the way she says Diego.
Late in the night, when his patrols are done and he's cataloguing his newest aches, Vanya slips into his room and curls around his back. She curls one arm over his waist so her fingers are tucked against his stomach. If she moves them he knows he'll feel the calluses caused by her music lessons. She still smells like smoke and spilt liquor from the clubs she frequents while he has to patrol. He knows that if he turns over so he can see her, her eyes will still have smudges of dark liner around them which will make them look even larger in her pale face.
Sometimes, on rare occasions Monocle lets him take the night off, he goes with her. Vanya writhes and pushes against people in the collective snarl that becomes dance. Her eyes glow and he knows what she looks like when she has stopped thinking about the Monocle and the team she could never be a part of no matter how much she wanted. In the clubs, with bodies packed so tightly together, he knows the feel of Vanya's body against his; knows the swish of her hips and the press of her ass against his crotch just as intimately as he knows the feel of her shoulder slamming into his chest as the mass of people surrounding them moves.
On the nights when he can't go with her Vanya always comes to him to tell him about her night and the newest band; small little attempts at musicianship that she critiques savagely. Out of tune; out of tempo; rhythm too slow; off beat. He doesn't have her training. Only the basics and what she's taught him about the bass so he doesn't always understand the critique she makes. Her fingers dance against the skin of his stomach as she demonstrates rhythm problems. He luxuriates in her touch, in the warmth of her skin against his, and the way she never pulls away. In his most private fantasy her hand doesn't stay on his stomach.
Her breath is warm against the skin of his shoulder and he images what it would be like if she moved just a little to press a kiss against his skin. He wants to feel her kiss and yet he doesn't know what he would do if it really happened. Sometimes, in his day dreams, he thinks about what would happen if he kissed her; a true kiss like the way the actors kissed in the cinemas he and Vanya used to sneak into when they were younger. But he's too afraid to risk it and ruin what they have. Without Vanya, he only has the dull regimentation of the Team, and Vanya won't even have that. He can't risk it.
Diego thinks that maybe Vanya might return his feelings. It seems like it does the way she always leads him onto the dance floor and presses tight against him. He catches her watching him sometimes when she doesn't think he'll notice. Vanya says outrageous things and jokes about Luther pining for Allison in a way that makes it obvious she thinks Allison is an idiot not to notice and want him back. Diego wants to be brave enough to ask if the same applies to him and her but he never does. Instead, he laughs, agrees with her, and hopes desperate that Vanya will say something. Vanya has always been the brave one of the two of them.
Vanya shifts so she can curl her foot over his calf. "My band would be better than those idiots tonight."
"I'd be in your band."
"I haven't asked you yet," she sounds amused.
Diego hates the way he fears she has already found other people; better musicians who don't come with the problems of the Team and a patrol roster. Vanya deserves the best band in the world. She's so talented with any instrument that he knows if she could just get on stage everyone would see what he sees when she plays. Vanya won’t allow her band to be basic. She's too good to do things by halves. Monocle makes her take lessons but she never performs solo. It seems monstrously unfair to Diego who thinks that Vanya has enough ability in her little finger to most any soloist to shame. Monocle should let her shine. Instead, he keeps Vanya with the Team even though she isn't part of it and Monocle has made it clear she never will be unlike him who has to work twice as hard as everyone else because his powers are useless on land. He has a patrol schedule to keep and Monocle to answer to about his whereabouts. He couldn't be reliable. Vanya needs musicians who will dedicate themselves to her first and Monocle won't allow his loyalties to be divided. No wonder Vanya wouldn't want him.
"I didn't think so" he says gruffly and stares into the dark.
Vanya's arm tightens around his waist.
"I don't have any band yet, I have nothing to offer," she says bitterly.
"You will."
"You'll be the first person I ask." Her arm tightens around his waist again. "Diego Hargreeves, will you play bass in my band?"
"Yes," he says but honesty makes him add, "there are better bass players out there you know."
"I don't care. I want you and we're going to be amazing." Vanya says fiercely.
She's wrapped so tightly around him that he sure he can feel her lips move against the tender skin of his shoulder blade. Maybe it's a sign. She asked him to play bass for her even though she knows all the reasons she shouldn't ask him. Vanya wants him with her and Diego knows that he will always follow her lead.
"With your talent I know we'll be," he says and feels her smile against his skin.
It would be so easy to roll over so he can hug her properly. Her head would fit just under his chin and he knows they would fit together but he can't make himself move. Instead, he reaches up to where her hand rests against his stomach and threads his fingers through hers. That touch will do for now.