Your Song Part I
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Nothing Much to Do/Much Ado About Nothing.
A/N: This story is set in a universe where everything happens except Balthazar and Pedro getting together. The chapters will not take place in chronological order, so don't think you've missed anything if chapters don't match up with the ones before. Also, there'll be mention of a major character death, so yeah, there's that warning. Hope everyone enjoys this - I'll try to update as often as possible!
Balthazar gripped his armrests as the plane's wheels touched the tarmac. The flight home from Brighton had been, well, eventful. After finding out he had window seat, Balth had worried he wouldn't be able to switch with whoever he sat next to. He was a nervous flyer, and he always tried to get an aisle seat. No one had said no to switching with him yet, but what if he was with an equally nervous flyer?
His worries had been unfounded – when he had gotten to his seat, a familiar face had beaten him there. Tony.
"Oh, hey, let me get out of your – oh, Balthazar! My god, it's been forever. How are you mate?" After a bit of explaining, Balth found himself in the aisle seat, catching up with an old prom date.
Tony had been really talkative (and maybe a bit overzealous with the arm touches and knee pats). University had been too boring for him and so had Cleo. So much for soul mates. They had broken up three months after moving in together at university, and Tony had packed up his stuff, leaving his ex to find a new roommate to take on the rent. From there, he had started giving private surf lessons. His business was good, and he got to have sex with plenty of blonde, tan people. Of course, that was the condensed version Balth had taken away from the saga Tony had told him.
Now, many long hours later, Tony was still going strong, oblivious to Balthazar's terrified expression and shallow breathing. "Ya know, I saw your friend, what's his name- whatever, doesn't matter- anyway, used to see your friend at the bar all the time. You remember that bar a couple blocks from the movie theater? Haven't seen him in forever though…" As Tony mused over which friend it was, Balth continued to grip his armrests as tightly as possible. The plane was still rolling down the runway. It would stop soon. Of course it would stop. What if it didn't? What if it crashed? No, pilots are professionals. Everything would be ok.
"You ok, Balthazar? You don't look so great." Tony finally noticed his discomfort and touched his knee again, probably in comfort. Possibly to feel him up. But Balth had no energy to think of that.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just-" The plane jolted to a stop, and the pilot's voice sounded through the cabin, apologizing for the less-than-smooth landing.
Tony helped Balth get his carry-on out of the overhead compartment when they got the go-ahead to leave the plane. The walk to the baggage claim was filled with more talk from the surfer about his business and how Balthazar would probably be good at surfing. When they reached their destination, Balthazar looked around for Ursula. She said she would pick him up at Claim D, but before he could look too much, Tony touched his shoulder and said, "It was pretty cool running into you, Balth. Maybe we can catch up again over coffee or dinner or something."
"Sure, that would be fun." The two were about to exchange numbers when Tony pointed behind Balth.
"Hey, it's your friend I said I always saw at the bar. What's his name?" Balthazar turned quickly at "his." Ursula wasn't a guy. But Pedro was.
He was standing, holding a sign reading, "BALTH," and staring right at them.
Balthazar's heart dropped.
Balthazar watched quietly as Pedro heaved his luggage into the bed of his truck. Silence seemed to be the name of the game.
Not much had been said when he and Pedro were reunited in the airport. His friend (ex-friend?) had said the proper hellos and nodded to Tony, but he didn't seem too keen on conversation. "Ursula said something came up last minute and asked me to pick you up instead. Since I have a truck that'll fit all your shit, you know?" Pedro had then grabbed "all Balth's shit" from the carousel while Balthazar traded numbers with Tony. The two had parted with a hug, promising to stay in touch. Maybe a bit too much touch on Tony's part, since his hand kept finding excuses to rest on Balth's arm or shoulder or lower back.
Pedro had then herded him out the door, luggage in tow.
They were now climbing into the truck, and Balthazar had no idea where to start. "So, you still have the truck." No duh. Two seconds around the other guy had him saying the stupidest things.
"Yeah." Pedro started the truck and plugged in his phone. Music filled the cabin, and when Balth opened his mouth to say something, the music was turned up.
The rest of the trip to his house was spent in silence. Balth wanted to take in the sights of his old home – the old shops, the new shops, the school, the park – but couldn't because Pedro felt like a dark, heavy cloud beside him, and he couldn't think of anything else. Just as he was about to try starting another conversation, the music playing switched to a quiet song. A familiar song. Really familiar, in fact.
"Is this my song?" Balth knew it was but asked anyway. Pedro hit the "off" button on his stereo, and the truck was worse than silent.
The song was one that Balthazar and his band had recorded a few months before they broke up. It was about getting over unrequited love. Surprise. What did surprise him, though, was that Pedro had the song on his phone. Ursula was the only one he had given a copy to, which meant… damn it, Ursula.