His mouth pressed tight against my neck, smelling faintly of cherries and beer, nipping down to the ridge of my collarbone. His voice was quiet, as he whispered my name repetitively, kissing hungrily down my body.
Fingers wandering intently, running up my jean-clad leg, to the bulge growing in my jeans.
"Mike.." Tony whispers, and it's probably the hottest thing I've ever heard, "Mike!"
My alarm blares, and I glance at the clock to see that it's four-fifteen a.m. and the rest of the band was getting up and ready for an early meet-and-greet. Just as I bang my head on the bunk above me, -Jaime cursing- Tony pokes his head down to look at me, smiling.
"Finally, you're awake, Mikey." he smirks genuinely, as I stand up and shuffle off, muttering a faint 'yeah'. I could feel the flush staining my cheeks as I went to grab breakfast, not able to meet his gentle brown eyes.
"You okay, man?"
I look up to see Vic sitting at the small table, spooning cereal, then letting it flop back into the bowl. His cheek rested on his hand, and he looked bummed.
I shrug, "I think the correct question is, are you okay, Vic?"
Nodding weakly, he sighs, "It's Jaime- he thinks that I like Kellin."
"But Kellin's married!" I state indignantly, biting the corner of my steamy poptart. Vic nods, exactly, he said.
"Now," Vic states, and I groan, "what's up with you, little bro?"
"Tony," I can only manufacture, slamming my head on the counter.
I can't believe it.
Wiping my shallow tears, I curl tighter under my covers, wishing my life away as I tucked my stuffed turtle tighter under my arm, as the blankets swallow me.
"What's wrong, Tone?" Jaime asks, tugging my sheets down to meet my eyes.
"Mike hates me." I whine sadly.
"He doesn't hate you, Turtle," the bassist soothes, his wide fingers splaying through my hair.
"That's what he said to Vic," I snap back, sinking my face into the sheets, mumbling a muffled apology. It's okay, Jaime tells me, his hand still in my hair.
After a blank, but comfortable silence, Jaime speaks up, his voice interested, "Do you like Mike?"
Slowly lifting my head, I look into his eyes, feeling a flush cascade across my form, a thick undeniable blush. Jaime chuckles, "How long?"
After a pregnant pause, "Since the band took off."
"Really?" he sounds surprised. I nod against the pillows.
"I hope it works out for you two, before we have to play again." and then, Jaime wraps an arm around me, tucking me against him, whispering that it will all be okay.
God, if only he's right.
When your heart breaks, you feel it.
The slow, simmering cracks to glass, as anger and sadness infects the sensitive tissue and binds until it's wrung of everything you have, leaving you drained and crying. Suddenly, your head hurts, your brain screaming for you to storm in and claim your love as yours, pleading for forever.
But I can't because I can barely move.
All I see is Jaime's arm, holding Tony tight againts him, mouth against his hair. Saying something, but I can't hear him.
Cautiously, the bassist stands, and turns to meet my infuriated gaze. Tony's eyes were closed, his lips pursed, breath even.
Wordlessly, he points out into the den, where I lead him, prior explosion.
"What the hell, man!" I yell as we get into the safe confines of the front of the bus, as Jaime plops down next to Vic, who looks up from his notebook. The latter tucks his head on Jaime's shoulder, and the bassist reciprocates, his head stacked atop my brother's.
"Well, he's a crying mess back there! Saying that you hate him, and that he thinks he's worthless because you treated him ignorantly!" Jaime snaps back.
"It's not my fault that I love him!"
The words linger in the air, as we all sit silently, alarmed expressions tainting our faces as we listen for the creak of Tony's bed, as he would get up to see what all the yelling was about.
It didn't, and we all just looked at each other.
"You love him?" Vic and Jaime ask in unision.
"Yes!" I whine flopping down on the couch opposite them, sinking into the saggy leather, dejected.
"He thinks otherwise," Vic says, jerking his head toward the back of the bus, where Tony was sleeping soundly. "He told Jaime that you hated him."
I groaned, banging my head against the wall, "I'll be back."
Then, I headed out of the bus to the rest stop.
The minute the door to the bus closed, I hopped up.
Stretching, I headed toward the front, dazed. Mike liked me. Mike loved me. Or so he said.
"He's got it bad for you, man," Vic tells me the minute I step out of the bunks. "I've never seen him so flustered and worked up before."
"It'll only be a phase," I deny weakly, "Then I'll be like last week's leftovers."
Vic goes to defend his brother, but Jaime presses a hand to his chest, leaning over to speak softly, "Tone, don't deny the fact that he loves you."
"Yeah, you should've heard him last n-" Vic stopped, eyes widening as he clapped his hand over his mouth, horrified.
"What happened last night?" I ask timidly, and Jaime falls back on the couch, cackling. Still holding his mouth, Vic mutters something incoherent against his palm.
"What?" I ask, curiousity killing me. Nails digging into my palms, I ask again, louder. As Jaime comes down off his giggling high, he straightens and reaches over to pat Vic's arm before speaking:
"My side of the story? I wake up in the middle of the night to look over and see Mike writhing around on his bed, muttering "Oh, God.. Tony; Tony!'" Jaime explodes again and Vic flushes, trying hard not to chuckle along.
In the next moments, all I see is a blur.
Mike Fuentes storms in, obviously hearing Jaime's story, his face flushed dark with anger and embarrassment. Through gritted teeth, he hisses, as he walks past, grocery bag in hand, into the bunks.
After a few minutes of silence, the driver comes back and the bus starts moving. Jaime stares blankly at the floor, guilt laden in his deep eyes, whilst Vic's dark orbs stay intent on the curtain separating the bunks from the living room.
Vic goes to stand, but subconsciously I clap my hand down gently on his shoulder, "I got this, Vic." I whisper quietly, before climbing over the coffee table and slowly drawing back the curtain.
Mike doesn't glance up as I slip across the aisle, plopping down on Jaime's bed across from his. Staring intently, I watch as he taps on his bongos, the patting on taut animal skin the only sound in the room. Rhythmic taps still vibrate as I speak timidly over them, "Why didn't you tell-"
"I was gonna make a huge thing out of it, ya know?" he speaks over me, the taps slowing, "I was going to do this scavenger hunt thing; totally girly, but it would seem endearing."
He continues, not meeting my eyes, "I was going to first give you a stuffed turtle, because you love turtles; then I would give you the Star Wars collection I was going to save for your birthday.. I had this whole thing prepared, all in the span of going into the freaking gas station!"
Voice cracking, he adds- I don't think he could stop if he tried, he sounded too broken, which made me want to cry, "Cook you something vegetarian, nice, have a late dinner thing, and you would be oblivious. Then I would tell you how I felt. But I couldn't look at you after last night."
He looks up then, scratching his medusa piercing gently, twirling it under his fingertip for a moment.
Then he met my eyes.
Eyes were puffy and red, and he looked like he wanted to punch something, then start crying all over again. Reaching over, I grab his hand, my fingers exploring the warm, calloused skin. Eyeing them for a moment, a bashful smile gracing his face, before looking up, suddenly tense, he went to pull of my grip.
Tightening my fingers over his, I tell him, one hundred-percent honest, "I love you."
He just looks at me a long minute, about to go through denial, when I reach over, suddenly confident, gripping the back of his neck, pulling him down for a hungry kiss.
Still disbelieving, he is inactive.
Groaning inwardly, I leap across the small space to plop down onto his lap, arms encircling his neck. Feeling his eyelashes flutter, I open my eyes to meet his wide ones. Sifting down to his neck, a smirk overcomes my face, "Don't you have something to say, Fuentes?"
Then, the animal pounces from his cage.
Next thing I know, he's pinned me to his bed, one hand trapping both of mine over my head. His mouth does wonders, crawling quickly down the column of my neck, nipping my collarbone, teeth clenching my tank top, pulling it down my body to expose more skin.
One look in his eyes and I'm hooked.
Moaning, I arc against him, feeling his smirk as he slows, mouth curling up as his lips meet mine again.
"I love you too," he whispers against them.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! I own nothing! 3