When we gamble with the world - part 2
Title: When we gamble with the world
Rating: R
Fandom: Take That
Pairing: Robbie/Gary
Genre: romance, angst
Summary: Rob has always thought of the two of them like magnets. When everything is the wrong way round, nothing is going to keep them together. When things are good, though, they just attract, drawing the other in without even trying.
Word count: 14370
“Can I ask you something?” Gary glances over at Rob. They’re in Rob’s hotel room, just sharing the space. They have their first Dublin gig tomorrow, but today is a day off, not even any promotion to worry about. Although Gary’s already had breakfast and his morning work out, he’s fairly certain Rob hasn’t even gotten out of bed yet. For once they have some free time, and they’re taking advantage of it, just quietly enjoying each other’s presence.
“Yeah.”
“What made you come back?”
“To the band?”
“Yeah. I imagine there’s more to it than what you've said in interviews.”
“Not much, honestly. I was so fucking bored with being me. And I missed you lot, believe it or not. Listening to your albums, watching the DVDs, I just really desperately wanted to feel part of something so special again. And I don’t know if I know how to be Robbie Williams, solo pop star, anymore.”
“You’re doing a pretty good job being him every night on stage. You’re better now than you ever were.”
“You’re not exactly objective.”
“Of course I am. I hated you back then and I still had to admit you’re a fucking brilliant performer. I don’t know why you’re so hard on yourself.”
Rob scowls, and Gary knows immediately he’s said the wrong thing.
“Of course you don’t. It was different for you. You don’t have fucking Nigel’s voice on repeat in your head, telling you how useless you are, how replaceable, how much harder you need to try to catch up with the others. You know how talented you are, and you believe it, because nobody ever tried to tell you otherwise. Me, I just lucked into this and I’m still lucky nobody has noticed I’m actually pretty shit.”
“You’re not.”
“No, maybe not. I’ve written some ace songs. But everything else is true.”
Gary could talk about the years of inadequacy he felt when Rob was on top of the world and he’d just been dropped by two labels, when he really didn’t believe he was talented, and how it permeated everything he did, and destroyed his health and his marriage and could’ve wrecked so much more. But he doesn’t really see how that would help Rob right now, and he certainly doesn’t want to dredge it all up. He’s made his peace with those years-as much as he can, anyway. Everybody has the demons that dog them forever, no matter how hard they try to exorcize them.
“It’s not,” Gary insists. “You can tell me I’m wrong however many times you like, but you’re not going to change my mind.”
“I think I’ve already proved my stubborn streak runs miles wider than yours.” Rob says, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth now, which is a marked improvement over the past five minutes.
Gary shrugs, “We’ll see about that.”
Rob looks ready to say something else, but Gary’s phone starts to ring loudly in the quiet room, and Gary glances down at the screen.
“It’s Dan.” He says. “I should answer it.”
“No worries. I need a shower.”
“Well, I didn't want to say anything…” Gary teases and Rob shoves him playfully before rolling off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.
“Hi Dad,” Dan says as soon as the call connects.
“Hey, Danno. How are you?”
Dan launches into a story about his most recent football match, talking a mile a minute. Gary knows he should cherish this age, because it’s probably only a year or two before Dan will be a monosyllabic teenager answering every question with yeah or fine or an ambiguous shrug.
“So Mum says if it’s okay with you I can come to the shows in London and then go with you guys to Europe.” Dan slips the non-question into the end of his football story, so that Gary almost misses it. It’s a little sneaky, which means Dan thinks Gary will say no.
“She does, does she?”
“Yeah. Oliver wants to go on holiday. I don’t really want to.”
“No?” Gary frowns. Dan is fond enough of his stepfather and has never turned up his nose at a holiday before.
“It’s been ages since I’ve seen you.” Dan says, not whining exactly, but all of a sudden sounding much younger than his eleven years.
Gary would do literally anything in his power to avoid disappointing his son, so he doesn’t really think it over much before saying, “I think that could work.”
“Really?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Thanks, Dad! It’s gonna be brilliant. Oh, Mum wants to speak to you.”
There’s a rustle as the phone changes hands, and then Dawn’s soft voice is in his ear. “You’ve just made his week.”
“Well, he’s right, it’s been bloody ages since we’ve spent proper time together.”
“You’ve been busy. He understands that.”
“I’m not too busy for him. Ever.”
“He knows that too, Gary.” Dawn insists. “How’s it going? I’ve been hearing good things.”
“It’s tiring, but it’s good. Being a five again feels right.”
“You sound happy. It’s nice.”
“I am happy.” Gary says as Rob emerges from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and his damp hair sticking to his forehead. Gary watches as he digs through his suitcase for clothes, eyes tracing the tattoos on his skin and the solid way his muscles move beneath them. Rob is beautiful in a way Gary never realised he appreciated until very recently.
“Gary?”
“Sorry, got distracted. You were saying?”
“I’ll ring you later in the week to work out the details for Dan coming along, you’re obviously a little busy at the moment.”
“I’m sorry. You have my undivided attention now.” Even as Gary says it, his eyes stray back to Rob, now half-dressed in trackies and dragging the towel over his hair to dry it and really only succeeding in making it stand on end. He grins at Gary, looking cheeky and young and happy. All of which look good on him.
“No, it’s fine, we’re about to dash out the door anyway, meeting Oliver for dinner.”
“Right, then, don’t let me keep you. Speak to you soon.”
He drops the phone on the bed when Dawn hangs up.
“How’s Dan?” Rob asks, flopping down next to Gary.
“Good. He’s going to join us in London and stay on through Europe.”
“You looking forward to it?”
“It’ll be brilliant. We haven’t spent more than a weekend together in ages.”
“I’m happy for you,” Rob smiles, and he clearly means it.
Gary can only think of a handful of times Rob has met Dan, and most of them were brief hellos if Dawn happened to bring Dan to the studio while they were working on the album.
He wonders what’s going to happen, when Dan’s here with things the way they are with Rob. Gary doesn’t know whether his different roles with Rob and Dan will mesh well, or even if he wants them to. He barely knows what’s going on between him and Rob, and until he does, he’s not sure he really wants to add his son to the mix.
Then again, he doesn’t really have much of a choice. It will be near impossible to keep those two parts of his life separate with Rob and Dan both on the tour.
* * *
Rob wakes to the alarm on Gary’s phone blaring a Killers song. He groans before he’s even fully awake, because he knows what that alarm means. Beside him, Gary kicks free of the covers and reaches for the phone. The song stops, but Rob knows he isn’t going to be falling back asleep today.
“Up,” Gary says, nudging at Rob’s shoulder. “C’mon, lazy.”
“I hate you.” Rob grumbles, moving just enough so he’s out of Gaz’s reach.
“You love me,” Gary laughs and Rob ignores the little jolt in his stomach. Gaz may be just joking, but the words are true and Rob still hasn’t gotten up the courage to say them.
“Not eager-to-exercise morning Gaz, I don’t.”
Gary grins (and really, how can anybody be so bloody cheerful at six in the morning?) and leans over the bed to kiss Rob, but all too soon he’s pulling away and rooting around in his suitcase for workout gear. Rob stays put, half-dozing, while Gary changes into shorts and a t-shirt. He’s lacing up his trainers when Rob sighs heavily and rolls out of bed, stumbling rather gracelessly towards his own suitcase.
“I hate you.”
“So you’ve said. But you’ll thank me when you don’t die of a heart attack.”
“No, it’ll be me lungs that kill me.” Rob says, more to wind Gary up than anything. He has a sneaky feeling Gaz will be trying to break him of the cigarette habit next.
Gary waits - impatiently - while Rob pulls on shorts and ties his trainers, ignoring the grumbling comments Rob mutters under his breath.
The hotel gym is deserted and Gary heads straight for a treadmill. Rob takes his time, pretending to take his stretching very seriously and adjusting the TV station until he finds something other than a mind-numbing morning talk show.
“Stop stalling,” Gary calls to him and Rob admits defeat, stepping onto the treadmill next to Gary’s.
“You’re a slave driver, you are.” Rob complains, but he starts jogging anyway.
Neither of them is what you would call a natural runner, and even though they’re always running at different paces and Rob is usually too out of breath to attempt conversation, there’s something about running together, side-by-side, that makes it more bearable.
Another couple comes into the gym around seven-thirty, when he and Gaz are doing post-run stretches. The woman recognises them immediately, but doesn’t say anything, just stares. Rob starts to get that itching feeling underneath his skin, and Gary must too because he stops in the middle of a stretch and starts gathering his things.
They manage to make it back up to Gary’s room without running into anyone else, and Rob stretches out on the bed.
“Can we move to some deserted island where they’ve never heard of Take That?” He groans.
“We don’t need a deserted island. We’re perfectly anonymous in America.”
“Except for the paps. And the expats.”
“Deserted island it is, then. Galapagos, perhaps? We can watch the wildlife to pass the time.”
“I can think of better ways to pass the time.” Rob smirks. “C’mere.”
“I need a shower. So do you.”
“Don’t care. C’mere.”
Gaz obeys this time, stretching out next to Rob on the bed. Rob curls his hand around the back of Gaz’s neck, pulling him close for a kiss that tastes a little of salty sweat. Rob doesn’t particularly care, tugging rather uselessly at Gaz’s t-shirt. Gary sits up to scramble out of it, and Rob takes the opportunity to shuck off his own shirt.
Gary’s hand darts out almost immediately, tracing the swallow tattoos on Rob’s stomach. Rob can’t help squirming.
“How on earth did you sit still for these if you’re ticklish?” Gary grins.
“Was high, probably.” Rob admits, and Gary’s face softens into one of those sympathetic faces Gaz makes sometimes when Rob starts talking about drugs or booze or rehab. Rob hates those faces. He knows Gary means well, but it feels like pity, and he can’t stand pity.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he snaps, and Gary flinches, which really only serves to make Rob feel worse.
“Sorry.” Gary murmurs, although Rob can tell Gary’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for.
“It’s just…I hate when you look at me like you feel sorry for me. Yeah, I’m an alcoholic and I had a drug problem and I’ve been to rehab, and it was pretty fucking awful and there are days where I wish I’d had my shit together as a teenager, but all of that is just part of who I am. I’ve forgiven myself for it, and I don’t need your pity, Gaz.”
“Sorry,” Gary says again, moving closer. “If I’d been able to see past my own nose back then, I could’ve actually been there for you.”
Rob shakes his head. “You can’t keep apologising for that. It’s not like I would’ve accepted your help anyway. I was too angry with you then.”
“We were so young,” Gary muses. “Too young.”
“Sometimes I wish I were still that young. A do-over would be brilliant.”
“What would you change?” Gary asks.
Rob shrugs. “Depends on the day. Some days I think I should’ve stayed well clear of Nigel and all his bullshit and just finished school and gone from there. Others I just wish I hadn’t been such a complete tosser. So much of it was just absolute shite, though.
“It was,” Gary agrees. There had been some good times, of course, but the bad ones are so much easier to remember. The self-preservationist in Rob always seeks the miserable memories, because the good ones inevitably end up hurting even more.
“Let’s not talk about this,” Rob suggests, because they’ve had (for the most part) a perfectly good morning, and he doesn’t want to ruin it with talk of the nineties.
“Let’s not talk at all,” Gaz grins, and as lines go it’s a bit cheesy, but Rob kisses Gaz anyway.
* * *
Gary feels the dynamic change when Dan arrives. Rob goes quiet and a bit tense, like he doesn’t know how to behave around Gary’s son, and Gary wonders if he was right to worry.
It’s bloody marvellous to have Dan around, though, and Gary soon forgets to worry about Rob. Dan loves the show, but he prefers to watch from backstage rather than in the VIP box with the rest of the wives/girlfriends and kids. He comes to the arenas with Gary in the early afternoon, and he doesn't even complain about how shit Gary is at football when they kick it around on the pitch before the crowds start to pour in.
Rob joins them on Dan’s third day, and of course the two of them go and prove Gary wrong. All of a sudden they’re like two peas in a pod, always together, playing footie and talking a mile a minute.
“You and Dan are getting along brilliantly.” Gary says to Rob one night after he’s tucked Dan into bed and gone across the hall to Rob’s room.
Rob shrugs. “He’s a good kid. Makes it easy.”
“You’re good with him.”
“I’m passing the test, then?” Rob grins.
“There’s no test.” Gary says, because that suggests something more serious than he can even imagine right now. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen after the tour, and thinking any farther than next week where Rob is concerned terrifies him.
Rob shoots him a whatever you say kind of look and Gary wonders if they were anybody else if he would be able to say how freaked out he is.
But they’ve never had a single conversation about them. It’s been a whole month of this, and Gary wishes he could just open his mouth and ask. But he’s afraid of the answer. He’s afraid Rob is going to say it doesn’t matter, and he’s equally afraid that it does and then they’ll have to work out what comes next. Gary hasn’t been in a relationship since Dawn and he doesn’t know how to do this and he’s not sure he even wants to.
And it’s Rob, who is always going to be a gamble, no matter how solid their relationship feels.
“So Dan’s staying through to the end of the tour, then?” Rob asks, pulling Gary out of his thoughts.
“Yeah. He wants to do some sightseeing, if we’ve got time. Although I really don’t think he cares about much more than various football arenas.”
“A boy after my own heart, then,” Rob laughs. “He’s really is brilliant. He’s your spitting image, too.”
“I’d noticed that, funnily enough.” Gary smiles.
“Must be rough, not seeing him every day.”
“It is.” Gary nods. “I worry he’s going to resent me one day, for all of this.”
“He adores you.”
“Still, it’s not easy being a celebrity’s kid.”
“I don’t think he cares about that.”
“Maybe not, but I do. He has to deal with a lot other kids never have to. He’s had to share me with fans his whole life, practically. We can’t go out for a birthday dinner or on holiday without getting recognised. He was in primary school during the divorce and everyone knew everything that was going on in our family because it was all in the bloody newspapers.”
“Gaz,” Rob shakes his head. “He’s a brilliant kid. And if you asked him, I guarantee he wouldn't change a thing. He loves you.”
“I know he does. I just don't want him to ever feel like he’s not my first priority, because he is.”
Gary’s biggest fear has always been that he would lose Dan, somehow. He’s had moments of pathetic, childish jealousy over how easy Oliver and Dan’s relationship seems. He can’t imagine anything worse than being replaced.
“Trust me, Gaz,” Rob says, reaching out to wrap his arms around Gary in a hug. “He knows that.”
Gary relaxes into Rob’s arms, letting his forehead drop to rest on Rob’s shoulder.
“This tour is bloody exhausting.” Gary sighs.
“Come to bed, then,” Rob says. “Get some sleep.”
“I can’t stay here.” Gary protests. “Not with Dan across the hall.”
Gary can tell Rob wants to argue from the way his mouth is set in a firm line, but he doesn’t. Instead he just nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Sleep well.”
It’s a bit cold, as good nights go, and sets Gary a bit off-kilter. He’s not used to Rob being cold; Rob is all warmth, whether it’s passion or anger or laughter. Things have been different between them ever since Dan showed up, though, with Rob mostly keeping his distance and Gary torn between being Dan’s dad and Rob’s...whatever.
It’s starting to feel as if the two don’t mix, and if he can’t be both he’s going to have to pick one.
* * *
Howard tracks Gary’s movements as the other man makes tea. Mark and Jason are off changing, and Dan’s watching the show with Grace and Lola. He and Gaz are both already dressed to get back onstage with fifteen minutes left to go in Rob’s set.
Gary is tense, and he swears loudly when some of the hot water from the kettle splashes onto his hand while he’s pouring.
“You all right?” Howard asks him when Gary turns around, tea in hand.
Gary shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt much.”
“Not your hand. In general, I mean. You seem a little…off.”
“I’m fine,” Gary scowls, and Howard can’t keep the sceptical expression off his face.
“C’mon, Gaz,” he says gently. “It’s just me.”
“I’m fine, Dougie, really. Just a bit tired.”
Howard sighs. “If you’re trying to fool me, you’re doing a rubbish job. I know you better than that.”
Gary takes a sip of his tea to avoid talking, and Howard crosses his arms over his chest to wait. Of the five of them, Howard is the most patient and the most stubborn, which means there’ll be no getting out of this for Gaz, and the other man knows he’s just delaying the inevitable while he drinks his tea.
“Me and Rob…” Gary says, shrugging like he doesn’t know how to finish the end of the sentence.
“I know.” Howard says, because of course he knows. They all know. It would’ve been impossible not to. They can’t keep secrets from each other for very long, even if they’re the kind of secrets nobody actually acknowledges.
To his credit, Gary doesn't look surprised. “I thought so.”
“Tour ends in two weeks.”
“Yeah,” Gary says and he looks utterly helpless, so Howard’s gotten to the root of the problem, at least.
“What are you going to do?”
“No idea,” Gary admits, and he takes another long sip of his tea, like maybe the answers are somewhere at the bottom of his mug.
Howard understands, maybe more than Gary realises. He knows about measuring the risk against the reward, gets what it feels like being stuck between the two. He’s too fucking afraid to gamble it all, knowing full well what the consequences of losing are, but maybe Gary isn’t. Howard certainly wouldn’t begrudge him that.
“Be sure.” Howard says. “Before you do anything you regret.”
Gary nods solemnly. Howard wants to say more, maybe offer his congratulations because he hasn’t seen either of them look so happy in years, or crack a stupid joke about how long it took them to get here, but Mark and Jason reappear a second later and Howard holds off. There’s a time and a place for all of them to talk about this, but ten minutes before they have to go on stage again definitely isn’t it.
Part 3
Rating: R
Fandom: Take That
Pairing: Robbie/Gary
Genre: romance, angst
Summary: Rob has always thought of the two of them like magnets. When everything is the wrong way round, nothing is going to keep them together. When things are good, though, they just attract, drawing the other in without even trying.
Word count: 14370
“Can I ask you something?” Gary glances over at Rob. They’re in Rob’s hotel room, just sharing the space. They have their first Dublin gig tomorrow, but today is a day off, not even any promotion to worry about. Although Gary’s already had breakfast and his morning work out, he’s fairly certain Rob hasn’t even gotten out of bed yet. For once they have some free time, and they’re taking advantage of it, just quietly enjoying each other’s presence.
“Yeah.”
“What made you come back?”
“To the band?”
“Yeah. I imagine there’s more to it than what you've said in interviews.”
“Not much, honestly. I was so fucking bored with being me. And I missed you lot, believe it or not. Listening to your albums, watching the DVDs, I just really desperately wanted to feel part of something so special again. And I don’t know if I know how to be Robbie Williams, solo pop star, anymore.”
“You’re doing a pretty good job being him every night on stage. You’re better now than you ever were.”
“You’re not exactly objective.”
“Of course I am. I hated you back then and I still had to admit you’re a fucking brilliant performer. I don’t know why you’re so hard on yourself.”
Rob scowls, and Gary knows immediately he’s said the wrong thing.
“Of course you don’t. It was different for you. You don’t have fucking Nigel’s voice on repeat in your head, telling you how useless you are, how replaceable, how much harder you need to try to catch up with the others. You know how talented you are, and you believe it, because nobody ever tried to tell you otherwise. Me, I just lucked into this and I’m still lucky nobody has noticed I’m actually pretty shit.”
“You’re not.”
“No, maybe not. I’ve written some ace songs. But everything else is true.”
Gary could talk about the years of inadequacy he felt when Rob was on top of the world and he’d just been dropped by two labels, when he really didn’t believe he was talented, and how it permeated everything he did, and destroyed his health and his marriage and could’ve wrecked so much more. But he doesn’t really see how that would help Rob right now, and he certainly doesn’t want to dredge it all up. He’s made his peace with those years-as much as he can, anyway. Everybody has the demons that dog them forever, no matter how hard they try to exorcize them.
“It’s not,” Gary insists. “You can tell me I’m wrong however many times you like, but you’re not going to change my mind.”
“I think I’ve already proved my stubborn streak runs miles wider than yours.” Rob says, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth now, which is a marked improvement over the past five minutes.
Gary shrugs, “We’ll see about that.”
Rob looks ready to say something else, but Gary’s phone starts to ring loudly in the quiet room, and Gary glances down at the screen.
“It’s Dan.” He says. “I should answer it.”
“No worries. I need a shower.”
“Well, I didn't want to say anything…” Gary teases and Rob shoves him playfully before rolling off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.
“Hi Dad,” Dan says as soon as the call connects.
“Hey, Danno. How are you?”
Dan launches into a story about his most recent football match, talking a mile a minute. Gary knows he should cherish this age, because it’s probably only a year or two before Dan will be a monosyllabic teenager answering every question with yeah or fine or an ambiguous shrug.
“So Mum says if it’s okay with you I can come to the shows in London and then go with you guys to Europe.” Dan slips the non-question into the end of his football story, so that Gary almost misses it. It’s a little sneaky, which means Dan thinks Gary will say no.
“She does, does she?”
“Yeah. Oliver wants to go on holiday. I don’t really want to.”
“No?” Gary frowns. Dan is fond enough of his stepfather and has never turned up his nose at a holiday before.
“It’s been ages since I’ve seen you.” Dan says, not whining exactly, but all of a sudden sounding much younger than his eleven years.
Gary would do literally anything in his power to avoid disappointing his son, so he doesn’t really think it over much before saying, “I think that could work.”
“Really?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Thanks, Dad! It’s gonna be brilliant. Oh, Mum wants to speak to you.”
There’s a rustle as the phone changes hands, and then Dawn’s soft voice is in his ear. “You’ve just made his week.”
“Well, he’s right, it’s been bloody ages since we’ve spent proper time together.”
“You’ve been busy. He understands that.”
“I’m not too busy for him. Ever.”
“He knows that too, Gary.” Dawn insists. “How’s it going? I’ve been hearing good things.”
“It’s tiring, but it’s good. Being a five again feels right.”
“You sound happy. It’s nice.”
“I am happy.” Gary says as Rob emerges from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and his damp hair sticking to his forehead. Gary watches as he digs through his suitcase for clothes, eyes tracing the tattoos on his skin and the solid way his muscles move beneath them. Rob is beautiful in a way Gary never realised he appreciated until very recently.
“Gary?”
“Sorry, got distracted. You were saying?”
“I’ll ring you later in the week to work out the details for Dan coming along, you’re obviously a little busy at the moment.”
“I’m sorry. You have my undivided attention now.” Even as Gary says it, his eyes stray back to Rob, now half-dressed in trackies and dragging the towel over his hair to dry it and really only succeeding in making it stand on end. He grins at Gary, looking cheeky and young and happy. All of which look good on him.
“No, it’s fine, we’re about to dash out the door anyway, meeting Oliver for dinner.”
“Right, then, don’t let me keep you. Speak to you soon.”
He drops the phone on the bed when Dawn hangs up.
“How’s Dan?” Rob asks, flopping down next to Gary.
“Good. He’s going to join us in London and stay on through Europe.”
“You looking forward to it?”
“It’ll be brilliant. We haven’t spent more than a weekend together in ages.”
“I’m happy for you,” Rob smiles, and he clearly means it.
Gary can only think of a handful of times Rob has met Dan, and most of them were brief hellos if Dawn happened to bring Dan to the studio while they were working on the album.
He wonders what’s going to happen, when Dan’s here with things the way they are with Rob. Gary doesn’t know whether his different roles with Rob and Dan will mesh well, or even if he wants them to. He barely knows what’s going on between him and Rob, and until he does, he’s not sure he really wants to add his son to the mix.
Then again, he doesn’t really have much of a choice. It will be near impossible to keep those two parts of his life separate with Rob and Dan both on the tour.
* * *
Rob wakes to the alarm on Gary’s phone blaring a Killers song. He groans before he’s even fully awake, because he knows what that alarm means. Beside him, Gary kicks free of the covers and reaches for the phone. The song stops, but Rob knows he isn’t going to be falling back asleep today.
“Up,” Gary says, nudging at Rob’s shoulder. “C’mon, lazy.”
“I hate you.” Rob grumbles, moving just enough so he’s out of Gaz’s reach.
“You love me,” Gary laughs and Rob ignores the little jolt in his stomach. Gaz may be just joking, but the words are true and Rob still hasn’t gotten up the courage to say them.
“Not eager-to-exercise morning Gaz, I don’t.”
Gary grins (and really, how can anybody be so bloody cheerful at six in the morning?) and leans over the bed to kiss Rob, but all too soon he’s pulling away and rooting around in his suitcase for workout gear. Rob stays put, half-dozing, while Gary changes into shorts and a t-shirt. He’s lacing up his trainers when Rob sighs heavily and rolls out of bed, stumbling rather gracelessly towards his own suitcase.
“I hate you.”
“So you’ve said. But you’ll thank me when you don’t die of a heart attack.”
“No, it’ll be me lungs that kill me.” Rob says, more to wind Gary up than anything. He has a sneaky feeling Gaz will be trying to break him of the cigarette habit next.
Gary waits - impatiently - while Rob pulls on shorts and ties his trainers, ignoring the grumbling comments Rob mutters under his breath.
The hotel gym is deserted and Gary heads straight for a treadmill. Rob takes his time, pretending to take his stretching very seriously and adjusting the TV station until he finds something other than a mind-numbing morning talk show.
“Stop stalling,” Gary calls to him and Rob admits defeat, stepping onto the treadmill next to Gary’s.
“You’re a slave driver, you are.” Rob complains, but he starts jogging anyway.
Neither of them is what you would call a natural runner, and even though they’re always running at different paces and Rob is usually too out of breath to attempt conversation, there’s something about running together, side-by-side, that makes it more bearable.
Another couple comes into the gym around seven-thirty, when he and Gaz are doing post-run stretches. The woman recognises them immediately, but doesn’t say anything, just stares. Rob starts to get that itching feeling underneath his skin, and Gary must too because he stops in the middle of a stretch and starts gathering his things.
They manage to make it back up to Gary’s room without running into anyone else, and Rob stretches out on the bed.
“Can we move to some deserted island where they’ve never heard of Take That?” He groans.
“We don’t need a deserted island. We’re perfectly anonymous in America.”
“Except for the paps. And the expats.”
“Deserted island it is, then. Galapagos, perhaps? We can watch the wildlife to pass the time.”
“I can think of better ways to pass the time.” Rob smirks. “C’mere.”
“I need a shower. So do you.”
“Don’t care. C’mere.”
Gaz obeys this time, stretching out next to Rob on the bed. Rob curls his hand around the back of Gaz’s neck, pulling him close for a kiss that tastes a little of salty sweat. Rob doesn’t particularly care, tugging rather uselessly at Gaz’s t-shirt. Gary sits up to scramble out of it, and Rob takes the opportunity to shuck off his own shirt.
Gary’s hand darts out almost immediately, tracing the swallow tattoos on Rob’s stomach. Rob can’t help squirming.
“How on earth did you sit still for these if you’re ticklish?” Gary grins.
“Was high, probably.” Rob admits, and Gary’s face softens into one of those sympathetic faces Gaz makes sometimes when Rob starts talking about drugs or booze or rehab. Rob hates those faces. He knows Gary means well, but it feels like pity, and he can’t stand pity.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he snaps, and Gary flinches, which really only serves to make Rob feel worse.
“Sorry.” Gary murmurs, although Rob can tell Gary’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for.
“It’s just…I hate when you look at me like you feel sorry for me. Yeah, I’m an alcoholic and I had a drug problem and I’ve been to rehab, and it was pretty fucking awful and there are days where I wish I’d had my shit together as a teenager, but all of that is just part of who I am. I’ve forgiven myself for it, and I don’t need your pity, Gaz.”
“Sorry,” Gary says again, moving closer. “If I’d been able to see past my own nose back then, I could’ve actually been there for you.”
Rob shakes his head. “You can’t keep apologising for that. It’s not like I would’ve accepted your help anyway. I was too angry with you then.”
“We were so young,” Gary muses. “Too young.”
“Sometimes I wish I were still that young. A do-over would be brilliant.”
“What would you change?” Gary asks.
Rob shrugs. “Depends on the day. Some days I think I should’ve stayed well clear of Nigel and all his bullshit and just finished school and gone from there. Others I just wish I hadn’t been such a complete tosser. So much of it was just absolute shite, though.
“It was,” Gary agrees. There had been some good times, of course, but the bad ones are so much easier to remember. The self-preservationist in Rob always seeks the miserable memories, because the good ones inevitably end up hurting even more.
“Let’s not talk about this,” Rob suggests, because they’ve had (for the most part) a perfectly good morning, and he doesn’t want to ruin it with talk of the nineties.
“Let’s not talk at all,” Gaz grins, and as lines go it’s a bit cheesy, but Rob kisses Gaz anyway.
* * *
Gary feels the dynamic change when Dan arrives. Rob goes quiet and a bit tense, like he doesn’t know how to behave around Gary’s son, and Gary wonders if he was right to worry.
It’s bloody marvellous to have Dan around, though, and Gary soon forgets to worry about Rob. Dan loves the show, but he prefers to watch from backstage rather than in the VIP box with the rest of the wives/girlfriends and kids. He comes to the arenas with Gary in the early afternoon, and he doesn't even complain about how shit Gary is at football when they kick it around on the pitch before the crowds start to pour in.
Rob joins them on Dan’s third day, and of course the two of them go and prove Gary wrong. All of a sudden they’re like two peas in a pod, always together, playing footie and talking a mile a minute.
“You and Dan are getting along brilliantly.” Gary says to Rob one night after he’s tucked Dan into bed and gone across the hall to Rob’s room.
Rob shrugs. “He’s a good kid. Makes it easy.”
“You’re good with him.”
“I’m passing the test, then?” Rob grins.
“There’s no test.” Gary says, because that suggests something more serious than he can even imagine right now. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen after the tour, and thinking any farther than next week where Rob is concerned terrifies him.
Rob shoots him a whatever you say kind of look and Gary wonders if they were anybody else if he would be able to say how freaked out he is.
But they’ve never had a single conversation about them. It’s been a whole month of this, and Gary wishes he could just open his mouth and ask. But he’s afraid of the answer. He’s afraid Rob is going to say it doesn’t matter, and he’s equally afraid that it does and then they’ll have to work out what comes next. Gary hasn’t been in a relationship since Dawn and he doesn’t know how to do this and he’s not sure he even wants to.
And it’s Rob, who is always going to be a gamble, no matter how solid their relationship feels.
“So Dan’s staying through to the end of the tour, then?” Rob asks, pulling Gary out of his thoughts.
“Yeah. He wants to do some sightseeing, if we’ve got time. Although I really don’t think he cares about much more than various football arenas.”
“A boy after my own heart, then,” Rob laughs. “He’s really is brilliant. He’s your spitting image, too.”
“I’d noticed that, funnily enough.” Gary smiles.
“Must be rough, not seeing him every day.”
“It is.” Gary nods. “I worry he’s going to resent me one day, for all of this.”
“He adores you.”
“Still, it’s not easy being a celebrity’s kid.”
“I don’t think he cares about that.”
“Maybe not, but I do. He has to deal with a lot other kids never have to. He’s had to share me with fans his whole life, practically. We can’t go out for a birthday dinner or on holiday without getting recognised. He was in primary school during the divorce and everyone knew everything that was going on in our family because it was all in the bloody newspapers.”
“Gaz,” Rob shakes his head. “He’s a brilliant kid. And if you asked him, I guarantee he wouldn't change a thing. He loves you.”
“I know he does. I just don't want him to ever feel like he’s not my first priority, because he is.”
Gary’s biggest fear has always been that he would lose Dan, somehow. He’s had moments of pathetic, childish jealousy over how easy Oliver and Dan’s relationship seems. He can’t imagine anything worse than being replaced.
“Trust me, Gaz,” Rob says, reaching out to wrap his arms around Gary in a hug. “He knows that.”
Gary relaxes into Rob’s arms, letting his forehead drop to rest on Rob’s shoulder.
“This tour is bloody exhausting.” Gary sighs.
“Come to bed, then,” Rob says. “Get some sleep.”
“I can’t stay here.” Gary protests. “Not with Dan across the hall.”
Gary can tell Rob wants to argue from the way his mouth is set in a firm line, but he doesn’t. Instead he just nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Sleep well.”
It’s a bit cold, as good nights go, and sets Gary a bit off-kilter. He’s not used to Rob being cold; Rob is all warmth, whether it’s passion or anger or laughter. Things have been different between them ever since Dan showed up, though, with Rob mostly keeping his distance and Gary torn between being Dan’s dad and Rob’s...whatever.
It’s starting to feel as if the two don’t mix, and if he can’t be both he’s going to have to pick one.
* * *
Howard tracks Gary’s movements as the other man makes tea. Mark and Jason are off changing, and Dan’s watching the show with Grace and Lola. He and Gaz are both already dressed to get back onstage with fifteen minutes left to go in Rob’s set.
Gary is tense, and he swears loudly when some of the hot water from the kettle splashes onto his hand while he’s pouring.
“You all right?” Howard asks him when Gary turns around, tea in hand.
Gary shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt much.”
“Not your hand. In general, I mean. You seem a little…off.”
“I’m fine,” Gary scowls, and Howard can’t keep the sceptical expression off his face.
“C’mon, Gaz,” he says gently. “It’s just me.”
“I’m fine, Dougie, really. Just a bit tired.”
Howard sighs. “If you’re trying to fool me, you’re doing a rubbish job. I know you better than that.”
Gary takes a sip of his tea to avoid talking, and Howard crosses his arms over his chest to wait. Of the five of them, Howard is the most patient and the most stubborn, which means there’ll be no getting out of this for Gaz, and the other man knows he’s just delaying the inevitable while he drinks his tea.
“Me and Rob…” Gary says, shrugging like he doesn’t know how to finish the end of the sentence.
“I know.” Howard says, because of course he knows. They all know. It would’ve been impossible not to. They can’t keep secrets from each other for very long, even if they’re the kind of secrets nobody actually acknowledges.
To his credit, Gary doesn't look surprised. “I thought so.”
“Tour ends in two weeks.”
“Yeah,” Gary says and he looks utterly helpless, so Howard’s gotten to the root of the problem, at least.
“What are you going to do?”
“No idea,” Gary admits, and he takes another long sip of his tea, like maybe the answers are somewhere at the bottom of his mug.
Howard understands, maybe more than Gary realises. He knows about measuring the risk against the reward, gets what it feels like being stuck between the two. He’s too fucking afraid to gamble it all, knowing full well what the consequences of losing are, but maybe Gary isn’t. Howard certainly wouldn’t begrudge him that.
“Be sure.” Howard says. “Before you do anything you regret.”
Gary nods solemnly. Howard wants to say more, maybe offer his congratulations because he hasn’t seen either of them look so happy in years, or crack a stupid joke about how long it took them to get here, but Mark and Jason reappear a second later and Howard holds off. There’s a time and a place for all of them to talk about this, but ten minutes before they have to go on stage again definitely isn’t it.
Part 3