(no subject)
Title: Crowded (Chapter 20)
Author: Elle (Zildjianrocker)
Rating: NC-17 (Whole series)
Pairing: Billie Joe/ Tre/ OFC
Disclaimer: Imade this all up and I'm sure that Tre and Billie Joe aren't attracted to each other at all. ;)
I don't know if anyone on here is going to remember me but I used to post quite a lot. I started this story a few years ago and for a number of reasons I didn't ever finish it but I recently picked up where I left off.
If you need me to jog your memory, the story centers around Green Day's stylist, Jamie, her relationship with Billie Joe and Tre, and their relationship with each other. All previous chapters can be found in my memories, which are here
Thanks! Elle xxx
Jamie lifted her headphones from her ears, suddenly aware of Pyro Jay squirming next to her. He was leant back in his seat, his eyes flicking from the TV screen in front of him, to the window, to the track listing on his iPod and back again, a continuous circle of wide-eyed anxiety. His left hand drummed on the fold-down table top and, unable to take any more, she reached over and stilled his fingers with her own.
“Dude. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Jay’s eyes met hers, registering a degree of surprise that suggested he was only just noticing her presence.
“Huh?”
“You’re fucking wired, PJ. I’m trying to watch some Angelina Jolie thing and it’s freaking intense enough without your percussion in the background.”
Jay rubbed a hand through his dark hair.
“Sorry,” he sighed, “I hate flying. And this is what happens when I don’t get to smoke.”
“It’s been an hour, Jay. Are you that addicted?”
“Sometimes I crave a cigarette while I’m actually still smoking one.”
Jamie grinned, drawing her feet up onto her seat and setting down her headphones, resigned to the fact that she wasn’t going to be able to focus on her movie until Jay got his next fix. They had five more hours to go until they were due to land in New York, ready for a three day break in the tour schedule, which had an itinerary that seemed to have been put together by a person with no understanding of what a break should be.
“You are a psychiatrist’s dream, my friend.”
Jay smirked, resuming his tapping.
“Nah...I went through a bunch as a kid. They had all kinds of theories about me and why I liked to burn stuff down.”
Jamie rested her head on her knees, her face thoughtful.
“Why do you like to burn stuff down?”
Jay shrugged.
“I don’t know... the way it looks, the way it sounds, the way you have to remember every little detail before something is lost forever... It’s the only thing that makes me feel totally calm.”
Jamie frowned at this sudden insight into Jay’s psyche, suddenly concerned that the crew treated his apparent compulsion with such light-hearted disparagement.
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Yeah. Y’know... apart from maybe drugs.”
She smirked.
“Hah. Right.”
He stretched in his seat, turning to look out of the window, and they were both silent for a moment before he spoke again, apparently having decided that his mental state wasn’t up for any further discussion.
“So, New York, New York. No shows for three nights. What are you planning?”
Jamie rolled her eyes.
“The only thing I’m planning is the band’s wardrobe. They have back-to-back appearances, which means I’m working the whole damn time.”
“Man...” Jay grinned, “I never even realised they were quite so high maintenance...”
Up at the front of the plane, Billie Joe was sleeping. The week of shows had taken it out of him and he had grabbed the opportunity that the five hour flight afforded them to completely switch off, curled in his seat, his head dropping against the cabin wall, oblivious to the chatter of his band and crew that surrounded him.
Tre was wide awake. Four cups of coffee in the departure lounge had ruled out anything else and he shifted, restless, in his seat, his focus alternating between taking in the in-flight movie and taking in Billie Joe. He inwardly scorned himself, briefly pondering when he had been reborn as a thirteen-year-old girl, before dismissing the thought completely as a sleepy sigh escaped his band mate and he watched him momentarily curl up tighter in his sleep, before relaxing again. His dark eyelashes fluttered gently against his cheeks, his dishevelled hair quivering ever-so-gently in the breeze from the overhead fan. He watched his tattooed fingers flex slightly in his lap, marvelling at how adorably unaware he was of the R Rated slideshow they had started in his mind.
“Good movie?”
Tre jumped, turning to see Mike looking back at him, an eyebrow raised.
“... Oh... yeah... It’s really.... yeah....”
“Hmmm... what’s it about?”
He swallowed, fingers fiddling with the empty Pepsi can on the table in front of him.
“Huh?... It’s... there’s a woman and a... y’know.”
“Wow. Sounds like edge-of-the-seat stuff, man... I can see where all the tension is coming from.”
Tre shot him a look. Mike grinned.
“Tre, I’m not going to pretend you aren’t freaking me out a little here. I mean, I can sort of take that you’re fucking...”
“You can?”
“Well, I mean, only if I don’t allow myself to picture it, ever...”
“Right.”
“But having you stare longingly at him while he’s drooling onto his shoulder is a little much for me to take.”
Tre felt his cheeks tinge, his fingers tightening around the cool aluminium of the can.
“I wasn’t! I do not know what you are talking about.”
Mike laughed.
“Sure. Okay. I just feel like every time I think I have this thing worked out something happens to make me feel like I’ve stumbled into some kind of parallel universe where nothing whatsoever makes any sense.”
Tre sighed, rubbing a hand over his warm face, before crushing the can and tossing it aside.
“Welcome to my life,” he mumbled.
“Are you going to meet his daughter?”
Jamie looked up from the glowing screen of her iPod, meeting Jay’s eyes in the dimmed cabin light.
“Whose daughter?”
Jay rolled his eyes.
“Tre’s. Ramona. He’s visiting her in NYC... right?”
Jamie shifted, uncomfortably. She had no intention of meeting Ramona and she hoped to all hell Tre didn’t either. Thinking of a more awkward situation than being introduced to his daughter as his new girlfriend was not an easy feat, when their entire ‘relationship’ was built upon an elaborate ploy to distract people’s attention from the fact that they were both having sex with a certain guitarist.
“Oh... yeah. He is but.... you know... I think it’s a little early for all of that. I don’t want to freak her out.”
Jay shrugged.
“I don’t think you would. She’s a pretty chill kid, you know.”
Jamie smiled.
“With Tre as your father, I think you would need to be.”
She sighed, drawing her knees up to her chest.
“I don’t think Tre would want all that anyway... you know how he is... anything vaguely suggestive of commitment makes him run as fast and as far as possible.”
Jay smiled, shaking his head.
“I guess. I just don’t get him sometimes.”
“How so?”
“The whole commitment thing... I mean, I always thought the idea of commitment is actually pretty awesome. Especially, y’know... with someone cool like you.”
Jamie giggled, feeling herself blush.
“And with lines like that, how is it that you’re still single?”
Jay grinned, turning to glance out of the window, his eyes squinting at the setting sun, as it peered, momentarily, over the top of the blanket of clouds.
“You kidding? I’m great with women. Alls I have to do is explain that I work on Green Day’s stage show n’ they fall at my feet.”
“Right,” she laughed, “And then what?”
“Oh... that’s usually as far as I get. After that, they head at lightspeed in the direction of eyeliner. In fact, I’ve lost four women to Tre Cool this year alone.”
Jamie bit her lip, in an attempt to halt her giggles.
“Oh, Jay...” she smiled, sympathetically, “Wait... you aren’t counting me in that, are you?”
Jay turned back toward her, a slow grin crossing his face.
“No, Jamie. I never even tried gettin’ anywhere with you.”
It was raining in the City. Hard and fast.
Jamie sat in silence, coffee cup in one hand and cell phone in the other, watching it slash the windows of the Ritz-Carlton Battery Park, enjoying the way the water distorted the city lights to stars and flashes, slowly dissolving into the darkened New York harbour.
It was past midnight but her body was on Pacific Time and her mind was on overdrive and she knew there would be nothing to gain from trying to sleep except insomnia and frustration.
Biting her lip, she scrolled through the list of missed calls on the screen of her cell phone, each one a tiny knife of anxiety.
Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Mike Dirnt.
She prayed to God that Kate hadn’t gotten wind of her apparent hook-up with Tre because she really didn’t feel like offering an explanation of that after her recent revelations about Billie Joe. As for Mike, she hadn’t much felt like speaking to him after he read the rule book to her the other night and she was pretty certain he was calling because he was feeling guilty. She sighed, tossing her cell phone at the bed and pacing the plush hotel suite in her socks five or six times before giving in to her longing for some comfort and heading out the door.
The hallway was quiet, with only the faintest of basslines drifting through the floor from the hotel bar beneath. She suddenly realised she had no idea where she was going, the only room number she had was Jay’s and she was pretty sure that six hours next to her on a plane was enough for him.
“Jamie!”
She jumped at the sound of her name, turning to see Mike heading down the hallway toward her, hair wet, towel in hand and looking like he’d just done far more hours in the gym than could be considered sane. It wasn’t the first time she envied his motivation.
“Did you get my message?”
She looked down, her toes curling into the soft carpet.
“Message? Uh, no. Did you need something?”
Mike sighed, slinging his towel over his shoulder and dipping his head to catch her eyes.
“Sorry if I got a little heavy the other morning. I didn’t mean to bitch at you, Jamie. You haven’t done anything wrong... you know? I just... sometimes I feel like I have to be the one that actually thinks things through for those guys, because they sure as hell aren’t gonna do it themselves. And I just don’t want you getting hurt, is all.”
Jamie looked up, feeling suddenly, inexplicably emotional. She swallowed.
“I know,” she replied, evenly, “But... I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself and... we’re all in the same place. Nobody is going to get hurt. It’s just fun... y’know?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay,” he conceded, with a nod, “If you’re sure, then I’ll back out. I just needed you to know I was worried. What kind of friend would I be to any of you if I wasn’t?”
She smiled.
“Quit worrying, Mike... everything’s going to be fine.”
Mike let out a sigh, his eyes giving away a lingering doubt before blinking away his reservations as Jamie hugged him.
“Uhh... one more thing...” she began, sheepishly, “Do you know which-”
“Billie’s six-forty-seven, Tre’s six-forty-nine,” Mike replied, with a wry smile, “Go knock yourself out.”
There was no response from Billie Joe’s room, so Jamie moved straight onto Tre’s to find her knock also went unanswered and, disappointed, she assumed they were both sleeping, until she heard a muffled voice call out in response.
“It’s me...” she called back, quietly.
“Door’s open, Princess...”
She pushed open the door to find the lights in the suite dimmed, and then tentatively crossed the room to see both Billie Joe and Tre cuddled together in the middle of what was possibly the biggest bed she had ever seen in her life. Jamie paused, one foot scratching absently at the carpet. She felt suddenly as though she were intruding and the possibility unsettled her, until Billie Joe lifted his head from Tre’s shoulder and spoke.
“Hey Babe... you okay?”
She faltered at the sight of them, sleepy and tangled together, the comforter pulled right up to their chins, the TV set they were watching casting pale shadows across their faces.
“Y-yeah... I couldn’t sleep.”
“Neither could we,” Tre yawned, “We missed you.”
Jamie couldn’t help but smile at his simple words, loving his ability to melt all of her insecurities into nothing without even trying.
“What are you watching?” she asked, curiously, noticing that Billie Joe’s eyes were still fixed on the screen.
“Saw Three,” he replied, glancing back toward her, before lifting the bedcovers in invitation, “Jamie, why the hell are you just standing there? There’s enough room for eight of you in here.”
“Sounds good...” Tre murmured, with a smirk, as Jamie hopped onto the bed and into the space Billie Joe had created for her between himself and his bandmate. She let out a breath of relief and contentment when she felt Tre’s arm slide around her, his fingers running through her hair before coming to rest around her shoulders and Billie Joe followed the action with a soft, warm kiss against her temple. She dropped her head against Billie’s shoulder and narrowed her eyes at the screen.
“You know... I’m not great with horror movies. Isn’t there a chick flick on somewhere?”
“We don’t do chick flicks,” Tre told her, firmly, “We’re men.”
“Aha... of course,” Jamie giggled, noticing Billie Joe’s fingers rubbing absently in Tre’s hair. “I can’t imagine why I forget that sometimes.”
Billie Joe’s lips twisted into an amused smile, his head coming to rest against Jamie’s.
“It isn’t that scary,” he told her, reassuringly, “Besides, you have us to protect you.”
She smiled, snuggling further into Tre’s sweater and allowing a comfortable silence to fall over them as they tuned back into the movie and Jamie remembered why she hadn’t made it all the way through the first time she had seen it.
“Guys...”
“Hmmm...” they responded in unison.
“I’m going to miss this, y’know.... when the tour ends...”
Billie Joe lifted his head to look at her, feeling a nervous flutter somewhere inside of himself. He hadn’t let himself think about what the tour ending would mean for them, or even about how close the three of them had become. Looking across at Tre, he could have sworn he saw a tell-tale flicker of panic in his eyes and he wondered if his commitment senses were tingling. The sex was one thing... hot, exhilarating, crazy and perfect in equal measure. But the three-way romance was a little more difficult to shrug aside. What was happening to them?
“I’ll miss it too,” he said, honestly.
“Me three...” Tre murmured, his eyes returning to the movie.
The nonchalance in his response was lost, as he took Jamie’s fingers in his own, squeezing them reassuringly. Her breath began to shake and she cursed herself for failing to keep her emotions in check, knowing that if Mike could see her right now, he’d be singing ‘I Told You So’ for every pathetic flip of her stomach.
Jamie glanced up at Billie Joe at the same moment he lowered his head, green eyes glinting with confusion, concern and that same un-readable something that always left her breathless. Her eyes closed as their lips met, his mouth soft, warm and eager. They parted, briefly, in surprise, when Tre flicked off the TV, plunging the three of them into darkness and silence.
“You were right,” he explained, whispering through the darkness, hands snaking around Jamie’s waist beneath the bedclothes, “... It is scary.”
Author: Elle (Zildjianrocker)
Rating: NC-17 (Whole series)
Pairing: Billie Joe/ Tre/ OFC
Disclaimer: Imade this all up and I'm sure that Tre and Billie Joe aren't attracted to each other at all. ;)
I don't know if anyone on here is going to remember me but I used to post quite a lot. I started this story a few years ago and for a number of reasons I didn't ever finish it but I recently picked up where I left off.
If you need me to jog your memory, the story centers around Green Day's stylist, Jamie, her relationship with Billie Joe and Tre, and their relationship with each other. All previous chapters can be found in my memories, which are here
Thanks! Elle xxx
Jamie lifted her headphones from her ears, suddenly aware of Pyro Jay squirming next to her. He was leant back in his seat, his eyes flicking from the TV screen in front of him, to the window, to the track listing on his iPod and back again, a continuous circle of wide-eyed anxiety. His left hand drummed on the fold-down table top and, unable to take any more, she reached over and stilled his fingers with her own.
“Dude. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Jay’s eyes met hers, registering a degree of surprise that suggested he was only just noticing her presence.
“Huh?”
“You’re fucking wired, PJ. I’m trying to watch some Angelina Jolie thing and it’s freaking intense enough without your percussion in the background.”
Jay rubbed a hand through his dark hair.
“Sorry,” he sighed, “I hate flying. And this is what happens when I don’t get to smoke.”
“It’s been an hour, Jay. Are you that addicted?”
“Sometimes I crave a cigarette while I’m actually still smoking one.”
Jamie grinned, drawing her feet up onto her seat and setting down her headphones, resigned to the fact that she wasn’t going to be able to focus on her movie until Jay got his next fix. They had five more hours to go until they were due to land in New York, ready for a three day break in the tour schedule, which had an itinerary that seemed to have been put together by a person with no understanding of what a break should be.
“You are a psychiatrist’s dream, my friend.”
Jay smirked, resuming his tapping.
“Nah...I went through a bunch as a kid. They had all kinds of theories about me and why I liked to burn stuff down.”
Jamie rested her head on her knees, her face thoughtful.
“Why do you like to burn stuff down?”
Jay shrugged.
“I don’t know... the way it looks, the way it sounds, the way you have to remember every little detail before something is lost forever... It’s the only thing that makes me feel totally calm.”
Jamie frowned at this sudden insight into Jay’s psyche, suddenly concerned that the crew treated his apparent compulsion with such light-hearted disparagement.
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Yeah. Y’know... apart from maybe drugs.”
She smirked.
“Hah. Right.”
He stretched in his seat, turning to look out of the window, and they were both silent for a moment before he spoke again, apparently having decided that his mental state wasn’t up for any further discussion.
“So, New York, New York. No shows for three nights. What are you planning?”
Jamie rolled her eyes.
“The only thing I’m planning is the band’s wardrobe. They have back-to-back appearances, which means I’m working the whole damn time.”
“Man...” Jay grinned, “I never even realised they were quite so high maintenance...”
Up at the front of the plane, Billie Joe was sleeping. The week of shows had taken it out of him and he had grabbed the opportunity that the five hour flight afforded them to completely switch off, curled in his seat, his head dropping against the cabin wall, oblivious to the chatter of his band and crew that surrounded him.
Tre was wide awake. Four cups of coffee in the departure lounge had ruled out anything else and he shifted, restless, in his seat, his focus alternating between taking in the in-flight movie and taking in Billie Joe. He inwardly scorned himself, briefly pondering when he had been reborn as a thirteen-year-old girl, before dismissing the thought completely as a sleepy sigh escaped his band mate and he watched him momentarily curl up tighter in his sleep, before relaxing again. His dark eyelashes fluttered gently against his cheeks, his dishevelled hair quivering ever-so-gently in the breeze from the overhead fan. He watched his tattooed fingers flex slightly in his lap, marvelling at how adorably unaware he was of the R Rated slideshow they had started in his mind.
“Good movie?”
Tre jumped, turning to see Mike looking back at him, an eyebrow raised.
“... Oh... yeah... It’s really.... yeah....”
“Hmmm... what’s it about?”
He swallowed, fingers fiddling with the empty Pepsi can on the table in front of him.
“Huh?... It’s... there’s a woman and a... y’know.”
“Wow. Sounds like edge-of-the-seat stuff, man... I can see where all the tension is coming from.”
Tre shot him a look. Mike grinned.
“Tre, I’m not going to pretend you aren’t freaking me out a little here. I mean, I can sort of take that you’re fucking...”
“You can?”
“Well, I mean, only if I don’t allow myself to picture it, ever...”
“Right.”
“But having you stare longingly at him while he’s drooling onto his shoulder is a little much for me to take.”
Tre felt his cheeks tinge, his fingers tightening around the cool aluminium of the can.
“I wasn’t! I do not know what you are talking about.”
Mike laughed.
“Sure. Okay. I just feel like every time I think I have this thing worked out something happens to make me feel like I’ve stumbled into some kind of parallel universe where nothing whatsoever makes any sense.”
Tre sighed, rubbing a hand over his warm face, before crushing the can and tossing it aside.
“Welcome to my life,” he mumbled.
“Are you going to meet his daughter?”
Jamie looked up from the glowing screen of her iPod, meeting Jay’s eyes in the dimmed cabin light.
“Whose daughter?”
Jay rolled his eyes.
“Tre’s. Ramona. He’s visiting her in NYC... right?”
Jamie shifted, uncomfortably. She had no intention of meeting Ramona and she hoped to all hell Tre didn’t either. Thinking of a more awkward situation than being introduced to his daughter as his new girlfriend was not an easy feat, when their entire ‘relationship’ was built upon an elaborate ploy to distract people’s attention from the fact that they were both having sex with a certain guitarist.
“Oh... yeah. He is but.... you know... I think it’s a little early for all of that. I don’t want to freak her out.”
Jay shrugged.
“I don’t think you would. She’s a pretty chill kid, you know.”
Jamie smiled.
“With Tre as your father, I think you would need to be.”
She sighed, drawing her knees up to her chest.
“I don’t think Tre would want all that anyway... you know how he is... anything vaguely suggestive of commitment makes him run as fast and as far as possible.”
Jay smiled, shaking his head.
“I guess. I just don’t get him sometimes.”
“How so?”
“The whole commitment thing... I mean, I always thought the idea of commitment is actually pretty awesome. Especially, y’know... with someone cool like you.”
Jamie giggled, feeling herself blush.
“And with lines like that, how is it that you’re still single?”
Jay grinned, turning to glance out of the window, his eyes squinting at the setting sun, as it peered, momentarily, over the top of the blanket of clouds.
“You kidding? I’m great with women. Alls I have to do is explain that I work on Green Day’s stage show n’ they fall at my feet.”
“Right,” she laughed, “And then what?”
“Oh... that’s usually as far as I get. After that, they head at lightspeed in the direction of eyeliner. In fact, I’ve lost four women to Tre Cool this year alone.”
Jamie bit her lip, in an attempt to halt her giggles.
“Oh, Jay...” she smiled, sympathetically, “Wait... you aren’t counting me in that, are you?”
Jay turned back toward her, a slow grin crossing his face.
“No, Jamie. I never even tried gettin’ anywhere with you.”
It was raining in the City. Hard and fast.
Jamie sat in silence, coffee cup in one hand and cell phone in the other, watching it slash the windows of the Ritz-Carlton Battery Park, enjoying the way the water distorted the city lights to stars and flashes, slowly dissolving into the darkened New York harbour.
It was past midnight but her body was on Pacific Time and her mind was on overdrive and she knew there would be nothing to gain from trying to sleep except insomnia and frustration.
Biting her lip, she scrolled through the list of missed calls on the screen of her cell phone, each one a tiny knife of anxiety.
Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Mike Dirnt.
She prayed to God that Kate hadn’t gotten wind of her apparent hook-up with Tre because she really didn’t feel like offering an explanation of that after her recent revelations about Billie Joe. As for Mike, she hadn’t much felt like speaking to him after he read the rule book to her the other night and she was pretty certain he was calling because he was feeling guilty. She sighed, tossing her cell phone at the bed and pacing the plush hotel suite in her socks five or six times before giving in to her longing for some comfort and heading out the door.
The hallway was quiet, with only the faintest of basslines drifting through the floor from the hotel bar beneath. She suddenly realised she had no idea where she was going, the only room number she had was Jay’s and she was pretty sure that six hours next to her on a plane was enough for him.
“Jamie!”
She jumped at the sound of her name, turning to see Mike heading down the hallway toward her, hair wet, towel in hand and looking like he’d just done far more hours in the gym than could be considered sane. It wasn’t the first time she envied his motivation.
“Did you get my message?”
She looked down, her toes curling into the soft carpet.
“Message? Uh, no. Did you need something?”
Mike sighed, slinging his towel over his shoulder and dipping his head to catch her eyes.
“Sorry if I got a little heavy the other morning. I didn’t mean to bitch at you, Jamie. You haven’t done anything wrong... you know? I just... sometimes I feel like I have to be the one that actually thinks things through for those guys, because they sure as hell aren’t gonna do it themselves. And I just don’t want you getting hurt, is all.”
Jamie looked up, feeling suddenly, inexplicably emotional. She swallowed.
“I know,” she replied, evenly, “But... I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself and... we’re all in the same place. Nobody is going to get hurt. It’s just fun... y’know?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay,” he conceded, with a nod, “If you’re sure, then I’ll back out. I just needed you to know I was worried. What kind of friend would I be to any of you if I wasn’t?”
She smiled.
“Quit worrying, Mike... everything’s going to be fine.”
Mike let out a sigh, his eyes giving away a lingering doubt before blinking away his reservations as Jamie hugged him.
“Uhh... one more thing...” she began, sheepishly, “Do you know which-”
“Billie’s six-forty-seven, Tre’s six-forty-nine,” Mike replied, with a wry smile, “Go knock yourself out.”
There was no response from Billie Joe’s room, so Jamie moved straight onto Tre’s to find her knock also went unanswered and, disappointed, she assumed they were both sleeping, until she heard a muffled voice call out in response.
“It’s me...” she called back, quietly.
“Door’s open, Princess...”
She pushed open the door to find the lights in the suite dimmed, and then tentatively crossed the room to see both Billie Joe and Tre cuddled together in the middle of what was possibly the biggest bed she had ever seen in her life. Jamie paused, one foot scratching absently at the carpet. She felt suddenly as though she were intruding and the possibility unsettled her, until Billie Joe lifted his head from Tre’s shoulder and spoke.
“Hey Babe... you okay?”
She faltered at the sight of them, sleepy and tangled together, the comforter pulled right up to their chins, the TV set they were watching casting pale shadows across their faces.
“Y-yeah... I couldn’t sleep.”
“Neither could we,” Tre yawned, “We missed you.”
Jamie couldn’t help but smile at his simple words, loving his ability to melt all of her insecurities into nothing without even trying.
“What are you watching?” she asked, curiously, noticing that Billie Joe’s eyes were still fixed on the screen.
“Saw Three,” he replied, glancing back toward her, before lifting the bedcovers in invitation, “Jamie, why the hell are you just standing there? There’s enough room for eight of you in here.”
“Sounds good...” Tre murmured, with a smirk, as Jamie hopped onto the bed and into the space Billie Joe had created for her between himself and his bandmate. She let out a breath of relief and contentment when she felt Tre’s arm slide around her, his fingers running through her hair before coming to rest around her shoulders and Billie Joe followed the action with a soft, warm kiss against her temple. She dropped her head against Billie’s shoulder and narrowed her eyes at the screen.
“You know... I’m not great with horror movies. Isn’t there a chick flick on somewhere?”
“We don’t do chick flicks,” Tre told her, firmly, “We’re men.”
“Aha... of course,” Jamie giggled, noticing Billie Joe’s fingers rubbing absently in Tre’s hair. “I can’t imagine why I forget that sometimes.”
Billie Joe’s lips twisted into an amused smile, his head coming to rest against Jamie’s.
“It isn’t that scary,” he told her, reassuringly, “Besides, you have us to protect you.”
She smiled, snuggling further into Tre’s sweater and allowing a comfortable silence to fall over them as they tuned back into the movie and Jamie remembered why she hadn’t made it all the way through the first time she had seen it.
“Guys...”
“Hmmm...” they responded in unison.
“I’m going to miss this, y’know.... when the tour ends...”
Billie Joe lifted his head to look at her, feeling a nervous flutter somewhere inside of himself. He hadn’t let himself think about what the tour ending would mean for them, or even about how close the three of them had become. Looking across at Tre, he could have sworn he saw a tell-tale flicker of panic in his eyes and he wondered if his commitment senses were tingling. The sex was one thing... hot, exhilarating, crazy and perfect in equal measure. But the three-way romance was a little more difficult to shrug aside. What was happening to them?
“I’ll miss it too,” he said, honestly.
“Me three...” Tre murmured, his eyes returning to the movie.
The nonchalance in his response was lost, as he took Jamie’s fingers in his own, squeezing them reassuringly. Her breath began to shake and she cursed herself for failing to keep her emotions in check, knowing that if Mike could see her right now, he’d be singing ‘I Told You So’ for every pathetic flip of her stomach.
Jamie glanced up at Billie Joe at the same moment he lowered his head, green eyes glinting with confusion, concern and that same un-readable something that always left her breathless. Her eyes closed as their lips met, his mouth soft, warm and eager. They parted, briefly, in surprise, when Tre flicked off the TV, plunging the three of them into darkness and silence.
“You were right,” he explained, whispering through the darkness, hands snaking around Jamie’s waist beneath the bedclothes, “... It is scary.”