Flying Verse: Just To Be There
Title: Just To Be There
Author: battie_hattie
Rating: R
Pairing: Shane/Singer, Brendon/Cash
POV: Third
Summary: Third installment in the Flying Verse. Shane and Brendon deal with The Cab's van accident in Wisconsin. ~5,500 words.
Disclaimer: Not even remotely true.
Author Notes: Thanks to everyone who had a hand in this, and who has enjoyed the verse!
“Jesus fuck, tickets right now are expensive, but I can get us on a plane in two hours,” Shane says, frantically clicking links on his computer.
Brendon throws his American Express card at Shane. “I don't care about the price, or if we have to sit in the middle seat between two sweaty Europeans, get us on a fucking plane.”
Shane takes the card and plugs in the number to reserve their seat. “Thanks, Brendon. I can't.”
“I know,” Brendon says, rubbing Shane's shoulder. “He's OK. You talked to him on the phone right?”
“His leg went through a fucking window, Brendon. I don't know how OK he really can be.”
Brendon's phone beeps and he checks it. “He updated on MySpace. He's OK, Shane.”
Shane sweeps his arm across his desk, scattering papers and knick knacks on the floor.
“Shane,” Brendon says comfortingly. “Shane, they're OK.”
Shane puts his head in his hands. “Is it god awful that I'm barely thinking of Ian, let alone the rest of the people in that van?”
“No,” Brendon says, rubbing Shane's shoulders. “No, you're just scared. He's hurt, and you're here. You just want to be with him. And we'll be there. You need to rent us a car though, and a hotel. Get your own room for the two of you, and one for me and Cash. And two more for the other four. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, yeah. That'd be great, give me something to do. Can you pack for me? I can't.”
“I know.”
…
“Shane, slow down, OK? We don't need to get into an accident too.”
Shane comes to a stop at the red light. “I just want to be there already. If our fucking plane hadn't been delayed we could have gotten them at the hospital.”
“You could have gotten Singer. We couldn't have fit the whole band in here.”
“Whatever.”
“You talked to him ten minutes ago, and he said he was waiting for you in a very comfortable bed and that he was feeling OK.”
“Yeah, except for the whole leg through the window thing.”
Brendon huffs out a breath. “Shane, pull the car over. Pull it over right now.”
“No.”
“Do it or I'll make you.” Brendon puts his hands out, pretending to grab for the steering wheel, though he doesn't actually touch it.
Shane pulls over onto a side street. “What?”
“You have to calm down. I mean it.” He reaches out and places his hand on Shane's forearm. “You need to be strong for him right now and this whole panic thing you're doing is just going to scare him off.”
“I just want to get him home.”
Brendon slides his hand up Shane's arm and covers Shane's hand with his own. “He's not going home. They're taking a few days, and then they're going to keep touring acoustically.”
“He's coming home with me. This tour is over.” Shane looks so dead set on it, that Brendon actually begins to worry if he's going to be able to talk Shane out of it.
“That's the problem,” Brendon starts. “He's not. He's touring because this is what he does, and he loves it as much as he loves you, and if you ask him not to, he's going to leave with you and then he's going to spend the rest of life wondering what if. Do you really want to do that to him?” He pauses. “When you calm down and think about it rationally, is that what you really want?”
Shane sighs. “We're going to have to talk about this more. Later, once I've seen him, OK? Because I get what you're saying and rational Shane is telling me that you're right.”
“But Shane The Boyfriend just wants to hold his Alex and kiss it right?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Brendon rubs Shane's hand. “It's OK to have both those sides. You're not the only one in this car concerned about someone who was in that van.”
“Shit, I'm sorry, I haven't even thought about asking about Cash, I'm such an asshole.”
“It's OK,” Brendon says easily. “I'm coming at this from a different angle, so my crazy is much less than yours.” He looks at the street sign. “Hey, this is the street that we need.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Brendon says. “The hotel should be at the next right.”
Shane puts the car in motion again and turns where Brendon tells him to turn and the hotel looms up ahead of them. “Thank god,” Shane says.
“Come on,” Brendon says as Shane parks. “I can't believe that you're moving so slow.”
“Hold on!” Shane says, pulling out his cell phone. “Hey baby,” he says into the phone. “Do you want anything? Because I'm here and the second I get to you, I'm not leaving.” He pauses. “Yeah, no, that's in my bag. And yeah, we got food for the whole band. McDonald's. Yeah, it'll be fine. Brendon'll take it to them, I'm coming straight to you. Yeah, baby, I know, I'll be there in like 3 minutes. Fast as they'll let me in. Yeah, love you too.” He clicks the phone shut. “OK. We're good now.”
“So I'm on food duty?” Brendon asks, picking up the mass of McDonald's bags.
“Yeah, if you would, please?” Shane pleads. “I got mine and Alex's here and I just want to,” he snaps his head toward the hotel.
“You're dying right now, in this parking lot, having this conversation, aren't you?”
“Also, I'm freezing my nuts off.”
“Go, Romeo. Go to your Juliet.”
Shane grabs his bags and darts across the parking lot.
…
“Eat another one,” Shane insists, holding a french fry in front of Alex's face. “You only ate half a burger. Normally you eat all of yours and then steal half of mine.”
“It's because your old man stomach can't handle fast food as well as mine,” Alex says. “I don't want it.”
Shane cradles him closer to his chest. “How are you feeling?”
“Sleepy. And a little nauseous. They said the painkillers might do that.” He pauses and looks down at his leg. “I think the bleeding has totally stopped.”
“You want crackers, baby? I can get you crackers. And ginger ale. Will you eat that if I get it for you?”
“Maybe,” he yawns. “But then you'd have to move.” He rubs his cheek along Shane's chest. “I can't believe you're really here.”
“Don't fall asleep on me yet. We haven't decided on the crackers and ginger ale situation. The lack of eating is worrying me.”
“It's the blood loss.”
Shane flinches. “Yeah.” He scoots Alex carefully onto the pillow, despite his protests. “Crackers, baby.” He looks at Alex and grabs the trashcan from by the door and places it on the bed. “Here's a puke bucket. I'm going to get you some ice too, OK? I'll be back before you can miss me.”
He grabs the ice bucket and pads down the hall to the machine. “Hey Brendon,” Shane says, a little surprised to see him there. “How are the guys?”
“Good. Cash and me have been hanging out with them. Marsh's passed out on pain pills though. How's Singer.”
“Having a reaction to his painkillers. I think he's going to puke. He barely ate.”
“He turned down McDonald's?” Brendon sounds a little amazed. “What are you doing out here?”
Shane pulls a couple of dollars out of his pocket and goes to the vending machines. “I told him that I would get crackers and ginger ale and ice. And now I'm going to go hold his hair while he pukes. He'd better know how much I love him right now.”
Brendon grabs Shane's ice bucket and fills it up for him. “How are you doing on the freaking out front?”
“I'm resisting the urge to wrap him up and take him home. It doesn't help that I missed the hell out of him in December, got him for a little bit just to have him taken away again. I just really want to be selfish and tell everyone to fuck off and just let me have him.”
“I know.”
Shane knows Brendon doesn't know what else to say, and there really isn't anything to say. Shane just needs to throw this temper tantrum and get it out of his system. “How's my cousin?”
“Feeling guilty as shit. You think you could come say hi to him? Or I could tell him it's OK to come to your room? He thinks it's his fault and I think you not talking to him right now is sort of making it worse.”
“Can I tell you something that can't be ever repeated?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Shane scans the hallway. “I'm fucking pissed at him. It's irrational, because I know, I fucking know it was black ice and there was no way in hell that he could have prevented it, but I just. I don't know.”
“You need someone to be mad at. Yeah, I know. But you're not really mad at him, and I think he just wants to apologize.”
Shane sighs. “He's got nothing to apologize for.” He looks at the crackers and ginger ale in his hands. “Ask him to drop by. I've got to get back to Alex though, I really think he's going to puke.”
“Yeah, go.”
…
Shane's cleaning the vomit from the trashcan when he hears a gentle knock. Alex sleeps through it and Shane opens the door. “Ian,” he says affectionately, wrapping his arms around him. “Sorry I haven't come to see you.”
“Yeah,” Ian says against his shoulder. “But you were needed here. I know that. And I totally understand if you're mad at me.”
“Hey, no,” Shane says. “No. I'm not.” He's honestly not. He thanks god that everyone just made it out OK. There was no one to blame. “It was black ice. I'm just glad you're OK.”
“Yeah, I'm fine. How's he?” Ian asks, nodding to the bed.
“Sick. He's having a reaction to the antibiotics and painkillers and everything that's happened. Come in, though it probably smells like puke in here. He threw up a few times, I'm used to it now, but I get it if you're a little grossed out.”
“It's OK,” Ian says, stepping inside.
Alex whimpers softly from the bed, and Shane places a cold washcloth on his neck. “You gonna throw up again? I don't think you have anything left to come up, baby,” Shane says as he cards his fingers through Alex's hair. Alex rolls a little into the touch and falls back to sleep.
Shane gives Ian a weak smile. “I hear I picked the wrong Alex to fall for - Marshall's sound asleep not puking into a trashcan. That would be nice.”
Ian's smile back is just as weak. “I'm so sorry.”
“Ian, come on, don't do this to yourself.” He gets up from Alex's side to hug Ian again. “Black ice, kid. Just be glad that it's all stuff that you're all going to heal from and all of your gear can be replaced.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Are Brendon and Cash? You know? Like you and Singer? Because they keep trying to pretend that they're not, but I'm totally getting something there, and at this point, I really have to know because I can't take anymore going crazy thing.”
“Did Alex and I really screw with you that bad?”
“You're kind of self-centered, you know?” Ian grins. “Dude, though, a little bit. I kept wondering, because you weren't acting like you but it's not like I knew you around Brendon, so I thought it was that, and I'd only just met Singer, and now it's like happening again, and there was this accident, and I really need to be calmed down.” He looks and Shane. “And not chased with sticks.”
Alex moans again. “Help me with him, would you?” Shane asks as he crawls to the center of the bed and pulls Alex to his chest. “Alex, you have to stop moving around,” he says and Alex just snuffles slightly. Shane looks to Ian. “Just sort of angle him so he's on his stomach as much as possible and then get that leg elevated, will you? I think the only way he's going to stop thrashing is if I'm here.”
“Yeah, of course.” He picks up Alex's legs and inspects it. “Shane,” he says cautiously. “I think his bandage needs to be changed.”
“Shit,” Shane curses as he tries to untangle himself. The second he'd stilled after pulling Alex up onto him, Alex had made himself into an instant barnacle on Shane's chest.
“Hey, I can do it,” Ian says. “Just tell me where the stuff from the hospital is. I don't mind.”
“It's on the counter in the bathroom.” He strokes Alex's head softly and kisses the part in his hair. “You got it?” he asks Ian when he doesn't return immediately.
“Yeah, just washing my hands first.” Ian's drying off on a towel as he comes out. He peels the old bandage away and gasps a little. “Dude, have you?”
Shane shakes his head and looks away from Alex's leg. “I'm sort of living in denial for right now. It's easier if I don't have to look at it.”
“Yeah, sure.” Ian blots at some of the dried blood with a wet cloth. “Looks like it's not bleeding at all now. You've just got to keep it clean and dry.”
“You will right?” Shane asks. “There's already talk of the tour continuing and I can't stay here forever. So when I'm not here, you'll make sure he's OK, right?”
“I'm sure Cash will,” Ian says slowly.
“No, it has to be you. You're the only one I trust with him when I can't be here for him.”
Ian tapes down a clean piece of gauze. “Yeah, of course. I'll take care of him Shane, he's my friend. And I'm the only one not really hurt, so it makes sense.”
“I want you to do it because you're my cousin, and I trust you. Not because I hold you responsible in any way, Ian.”
Ian stares at him. “Yeah, Shane, of course. Don't even worry.” He props Alex's leg up on a pillow. “I'll just, you know?” He motions to the door.
“You still hungry? Crack that window open so we can air out the room and you can eat all the food Alex and I didn't eat and watch a movie with me.” He shifts Alex a little on his chest. “As you can see, my company is a little less than entertaining.”
Ian smiles. “You got it, cousin.”
…
Cash pushes on Brendon's shoulder when Ian takes his leave. “Hey,” he whispers. “How's Shane?”
Brendon blinks at him. “Don't you mean, how's Singer?”
“I saw Singer in the hospital. I know how he is, and if anything bad happened, like needing to go back to the hospital, I'd already know. I'm actually asking about Shane, hence, me saying 'how's Shane'.”
“Shane's good,” Brendon says.
“Why are you lying to me?” Cash asks, ripping into his second burger. “I saw your face when you walked in here, you were a fucking wreck. I can't even imagine what Shane's going through.”
“He's terrified,” Brendon says. “I guess now Singer's throwing up or something. And he wants to take him home.” Brendon puts up a hand before Cash can protest. “He's not taking Alex anywhere he doesn't want to go, he's not even going to say anything about it. But you know Shane.” He shrugs. “And Alex.”
Cash nods and smiles as Brendon reaches over to swipe at some ketchup at the corner of his mouth. “You're just a big gooey center, aren't you, Colligan?”
“I'm hardcore and if you tell anyone anything else, I get to punch you once in the testicles.”
Brendon shoulder butts him. “You like my testicles too much.”
“Hey, watch the bruising. I'm damaged goods here.”
Cash watches Marshall roll onto his side. “Hey, Jizzle, watch the kid, right? He can't lay on his face.”
Johnson flips the channel on the TV. “Dude, I know. Also, if he lays on his face, I think the screaming will let us know.”
“Dude, if it gets to the screaming part, he's gonna tear his stitches.”
“I got this, guys,” Brendon says, getting up from the couch. He rolls Marshall back onto his back and places a pillow on his right side. “That's the way he always rolls, right?”
“Yeah,” Cash says. “Thanks.”
“No worries. I've got the working legs, right?”
Cash blinks up at him. “So, um, I think Brendon and I are going to go to the other room. Yes?” He looks at Brendon hopefully.
“And pretend that you're not going to spoon? Yeah, please do that in the other room,” Johnson says as he flips the channel again.
“We're gonna go... manly stuff, dude,” Cash says. “And if there is manly cuddling then that's what there will be and you can deal.”
“Sure. I'm calling you though if I need Brendon's legs again before Ian gets back.”
“Fair enough,” Brendon says, helping Cash to his feet. “I'll be here. Well, there.”
…
“Alex,” Shane whispers, “company.”
Ian smiles. “It's OK. It's not like you're going to start having sex. He's just kissing your neck. He probably doesn't even know he's doing it.”
Shane's eyes flick to the clock. “Do you think I can bother you to grab his pills off the TV? He seems awake enough to take them now.”
“Of course.” Ian hopes off the bed. “Which ones?”
“The little ones. He only needs the antibiotics twice a day.”
Ian shakes a pill into Shane's hand.
“Alex,” Shane says softly, tipping Alex's head up. “I want you to take this pill. Open wide, baby.” He puts the pill on Alex's tongue and pours a little water in. “Swallow.”
Alex closes his mouth and swallows. “Crackers?” he asks sleepily.
“Of course.” He reaches over for the packet and places one by Alex's lip. “Alex, cracker,” he reminds him.
“Mmmm,” Alex hums before munching lazily, getting crumbs all down Shane's shirt. “Crackers are fun.”
“How high is he right now?” Ian asks.
“I don't care as long as the vomiting has stopped.” He holds another cracker up. “More,” he prods.
“Should I go?” Ian asks.
“No,” Shane says, pushing the cracker gently in Alex's mouth. “You're more than welcome to stay. If you're uncomfortable, I'm not going to make you stay, but I'd like you to hang here.”
“Is this because my mom yelled at you?”
“It might be because I ignored your mom's phone calls,” Shane says with a smile. He looks down to see Alex push a half masticated wad of crackers out of his mouth and onto Shane's chest. Alex giggles. “Thanks, baby,” Shane says. “Are you done with the crackers then?” He picks the wad up and shoves it into an empty Sprite can.
“More please,” Alex says lazily. “Didn't like that one.”
Shane grabs another cracker and places it at Alex's lips. “What about this one?”
Alex nibbles at it for a second and then falls asleep. “Maybe I'm over medicating him,” Shane says as Ian lays down next to him.
“He's tiny. The glass they took out of him was almost as big as him.” Ian blinks when Shane's face changes. “Sorry, I forgot, you're avoiding.”
Shane rests his head on Ian's shoulder. “Can't avoid what you guys do forever.”
…
Shane's got a crick in his neck when he wakes up to Alex shoving at him. “Alex, Ian's sleeping.”
“Baby, baby, baby, baby,” Alex chants.
“I'm right here,” Shane whispers. “What?”
“I have to pee. Right now. Right now, right now. Gonna pee on you.”
Shane looks down at him, and worries a little bit at how his pupils are blown wide from the pain medicine. “OK, hold on.” He slides out from under Alex. “Gonna get you up.”
“No,” Alex whines, drawing the word out. “I hurt. Just gonna pee here.”
Ian yawns awake. “Is he going to wet the bed?”
“No, but cover your eyes.” Shane runs and dumps the melted ice out of the plastic bucket.
“Huh?”
“He's going to pee in this bucket, and I'd prefer it if you didn't watch.” Shane pushes Alex to a more or less sitting position and pulls out his dick.
“Oh my god, I thought you were going to make him pull it out,” Ian says. He starts to turn away, but Alex falls against him.
“Ian, could you hold him up?”
“Singer,” Ian says, “you won't remember this probably tomorrow, but I'm saying that you owe me.” Ian looks up at Shane. “Dude, he so does. I'm holding him up while my cousin pulls on his dick to help him pee. This is so much more than what I signed up for.”
“I love you, Ian Crawford,” Alex slurs as he starts to pee. “I'm peeing in bed!” he exclaims gleefully.
“Yeah, you are,” Shane says. “OK.” He shakes Alex off and tucks him back in. “You play nice with Ian and I'm going to take care of this.”
“He loves me,” Alex slurs. “He takes care of me lots.”
“I know,” Ian says. The toilet flushes in the bathroom. “And you love him and take care of him. Because he's my family.”
“You're OK, right? Because I do.”
“Yeah,” Ian says, smiling. “It's good now. You thirsty?”
Alex licks his lips. “Very. I peed out all the liquid in my body.”
“Yeah, I know,” he says, passing Alex a bottle of water. “Can you drink it on your own or do you need help.”
“Yay, water,” Alex says and he downs the majority of the water in one long swallow.
The tap in the bathroom turns off and Shane comes out. “Slow down, baby, you'll make yourself sick again.”
“My leg hurts.”
“I know,” Shane says, crawling back into the bed and under Alex. “Go back to sleep.”
…
“Dude, OK, I'm sorry,” Cash says. “I, um, I'm 18, I'm not supposed to have this issue.”
“It's OK,” Brendon says. “You were in a really bad accident, and you've got the medicine thing. I mean, it happened to me once, when I smoked too much weed.”
“Really?”
“No.”
“Asshole.”
Brendon snuggles up to Cash's side. “Dude, we shouldn't even have been trying. You're not up for sex.”
“Nice boner.”
“Not my fault that you can't have one.”
“Dude, I'm going to run away from you now and you can be alone in this hotel room. With no Cash Money lovin'.”
“Oh baby, you're so sexy when you talk like that,” he says kissing along Cash's neck. “How about you lie back and let me come on your face?”
Cash snorts out a laugh. “I'm sorry, I think you've got me confused with someone else. You're not coming on my face. Ever.”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Because you shoved your dick down my throat, I choked, and you came as I pushed you into the wall. The fact that it got on my face was purely accidental.”
Brendon laughs. “I love that you can eat my ass so long and so throughly I can come without anything else, but the second I suggest coming on your face, you say it's too gay.”
“Singer lets Shane come on his face. Apparently it's a big kink of Shane's,” Cash says.
“Is that why you think it's too gay? Because Singer likes it?”
Cash shakes his head. “No, it's too gay because it's too gay. Look, if you want to fuck me, then fuck me, but you're not coming on my face. It's my line.”
Brendon laughs and kisses Cash's temple. “That's so many shades of awesome. Come on, we should get that leg elevated.”
“What about the fucking?”
“Not happening, Cash.”
“Brendon?” Cash asks, settling back into the pillows. “Could you do me a huge favor?”
“Sure,” he says, propping Cash up, only consulting the After Care guide once. “What's up?”
“Go check on Singer and Shane for me.”
“You're totally not going to be able to sleep unless you know that they're OK.” Brendon grins.
“Go!”
…
“Hey Ian,” Brendon says when Ian opens the door. “I brought ginger ale, in case Singer was still puking.”
Ian yawns. “No, but we just had a very interesting urination experience. Come in to the funtime.”
“Awesome. Hey Shane. I got your boy a soda.”
Shane's got Alex curled back into his chest, snoring softly, injured leg jutting out of the covers. “Thanks, Brendon. How's Cash?”
Brendon pulls the covers down to cover Alex's foot. “He's good. Worried about you two.” He turns to Ian. “You're now privy to secret boyfriend information that you must swear on your guitar that you will never repeat.”
“There are so many things that have happened in this room that I just want to forget,” Ian says, flopping back down onto the bed. “You have a boner. Any other night that would freak me out, or make me question my sanity, but today?” He sighs sadly. “Can I have one of Singer's crackers?”
Shane passes Ian the crackers. “Why do you have a boner, Brendon?”
Brendon sprawls out on the extra bed. “Cash was.” He glances over at Ian. “Anyway, being delicate to Ian there, we started something that Cash couldn't finish.”
“He was in an accident!” Ian exclaims, spewing cracker crumbs all over Shane. “Sorry.”
“Don't worry about it,” Shane says. “It's not the first time tonight.” He sighs. “Why were you trying to have sex with Cash when he's just been in a very serious accident?”
“He started it!” Brendon says. “And that's how we do the whole,” he motions to Alex, sleeping soundly on Shane's chest. “We're not like you two. We have our ways.”
Ian starts singing I'm A Little Tea Pot and covering his ears.
“You're going to break my baby cousin.”
“Whatever, Cash sent me here on a mission to make sure you're OK.”
“Make sure Alex's OK, you mean.”
“No, you. And Alex, but mostly you, since Singer's totally out of it. Ian, you can uncover your ears,” he adds loudly.
Ian uncovers his ears. “Dude, did you leave Marshall alone with Johnson?”
“Yeah, I made him a pillow-face protector before I left him though, and told Johnson to call my room if he needed anything. You're all going to end up in that room, aren't you? Why did we bother with the fourth room anyway?”
“Because just because we're not using it tonight, doesn't mean we won't use it later.” Ian yawns. “I'm going to go check in on those guys, let them know how Singer's doing, while leaving out the vomiting and pissing thing.”
“Thanks,” Shane says. “Tell your mom I said hi.”
Ian gives him a thumbs up. “You got it.”
“OK,” Brendon starts. “Alex looks a little worse than I thought.”
Shane rubs Alex's hair and kisses his forehead. “He's fine, he's got me.” Alex drools a little and Shane wipes at it with the side of the sheet. “He's going to be OK, and they're going to continue to tour, and I'm going to be OK with it, even when I'm touring with you in a big bus and they're stuck in a tiny van that could flip at any moment and kill them all.”
“Keep telling yourself that, except the last part. The bus could flip just as easily.”
“He's doing what he loves, and he's really happy. And if I made him just stay, he wouldn't be happy.”
“And then you wouldn't be happy.”
“Fuck you and your sage like wisdom. You're younger, I'm supposed to give you advice.”
“Good, so later when I'm having my issues with my boyfriend who can't use the word boyfriend because of his obsession with bromance, you're the one to come to, right?” Brendon bounces off the bed and heads for the door.
“I'm your man.”
…
Shane blinks awake to small sounds of pain coming from Alex. “Bathroom?” Shane asks drowsily.
“No. Well, yes. It itches. And I have to pee.”
“Hold on baby, let me wake up.”
“I love you,” Alex says. “Because I do, and because I'm also pretty sure that in the last few hours I've puked into a trashcan and peed in a bucket.”
“You did, baby. It's OK.”
“You never call me baby, but you've been doing it a lot since you showed up.”
Shane smiles. “I thought it was comforting?”
“It is.” He kisses Shane on the neck. “Please help me up though, I really am not in enough of a drug induced stupor to pee in a bucket again. Weird thing is, I think I hallucinated Ian being here.”
“Yeah,” Shane says slowly. “He was here. That wasn't a hallucination.”
“Oh god,” Alex moans and then winces. “Ow, OK, ow, Shane, ow.”
“Don't move, baby.” He reaches down and grasps Alex's knee, turning it slowly so that the skin of the wound isn't stretched at such a weird angle. “Better?”
“Yeah. OK,” he says, face falling. “Do you think maybe I can pee in the bucket again?”
“Yeah.” Shane scoots out from under Alex, ignoring his own pressing need to use the bathroom. He grabs the bucket from the bathroom sink. “Here, hold on,” he says putting the bucket on the nightstand and helping Alex to sit. “Do you need me to hold the bucket?”
“I kind of want to do this myself,” Alex says, flushing hotly. “Not that I don't.” He screws up his face as he pauses to think. “I've told you I love you so much for being here, right?”
“You have.” He kisses Alex on the cheek. “I'm actually going to run to the bathroom real quick. You good?”
Alex nods and Shane excuses himself to the bathroom. He doesn't bother to flush before heading back to the bed.
“Sorry,” Alex says, holding out the bucket.
“Don't be sorry at all, Alex. This is what I'm here for.” He takes the bucket to the bathroom and takes care of it. “Are you hungry?” he asks after washing the bucket and his hands.
“A little? Did I spit a cracker on you?”
“Yeah,” Shane says with a smile. “You didn't like that one.”
“Oh, god. That's really, really embarrassing. Why are you even still here? I threw up on your hands!”
“I think it's that whole me loving you thing. Makes me do crazy things, but if in the future you could aim more in the bucket, that would make me so happy.” He sits down next to Alex. “There's a Denny's half a block from here. You want?”
“Yeah. Moons Over My Hammy.” He pushes himself up with his elbows. “Ow.”
Shane helps prop his bad leg up on the pillow. “That all?”
“What are you getting? Can I eat the rest of yours?”
“That's my boy.” He kisses the side of Alex's face and hands him the remote. “I'm going to do the good cousin-slash-friend thing and take orders, so I'll be gone for a bit. You gonna be OK?”
Alex blinks at him. “I want to see my band.”
“You got it.” He leans down and picks Alex up. “Any more requests? Though, I should have asked before picking you up.”
“Love you,” Alex says. “That's all.”
Author: battie_hattie
Rating: R
Pairing: Shane/Singer, Brendon/Cash
POV: Third
Summary: Third installment in the Flying Verse. Shane and Brendon deal with The Cab's van accident in Wisconsin. ~5,500 words.
Disclaimer: Not even remotely true.
Author Notes: Thanks to everyone who had a hand in this, and who has enjoyed the verse!
“Jesus fuck, tickets right now are expensive, but I can get us on a plane in two hours,” Shane says, frantically clicking links on his computer.
Brendon throws his American Express card at Shane. “I don't care about the price, or if we have to sit in the middle seat between two sweaty Europeans, get us on a fucking plane.”
Shane takes the card and plugs in the number to reserve their seat. “Thanks, Brendon. I can't.”
“I know,” Brendon says, rubbing Shane's shoulder. “He's OK. You talked to him on the phone right?”
“His leg went through a fucking window, Brendon. I don't know how OK he really can be.”
Brendon's phone beeps and he checks it. “He updated on MySpace. He's OK, Shane.”
Shane sweeps his arm across his desk, scattering papers and knick knacks on the floor.
“Shane,” Brendon says comfortingly. “Shane, they're OK.”
Shane puts his head in his hands. “Is it god awful that I'm barely thinking of Ian, let alone the rest of the people in that van?”
“No,” Brendon says, rubbing Shane's shoulders. “No, you're just scared. He's hurt, and you're here. You just want to be with him. And we'll be there. You need to rent us a car though, and a hotel. Get your own room for the two of you, and one for me and Cash. And two more for the other four. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, yeah. That'd be great, give me something to do. Can you pack for me? I can't.”
“I know.”
…
“Shane, slow down, OK? We don't need to get into an accident too.”
Shane comes to a stop at the red light. “I just want to be there already. If our fucking plane hadn't been delayed we could have gotten them at the hospital.”
“You could have gotten Singer. We couldn't have fit the whole band in here.”
“Whatever.”
“You talked to him ten minutes ago, and he said he was waiting for you in a very comfortable bed and that he was feeling OK.”
“Yeah, except for the whole leg through the window thing.”
Brendon huffs out a breath. “Shane, pull the car over. Pull it over right now.”
“No.”
“Do it or I'll make you.” Brendon puts his hands out, pretending to grab for the steering wheel, though he doesn't actually touch it.
Shane pulls over onto a side street. “What?”
“You have to calm down. I mean it.” He reaches out and places his hand on Shane's forearm. “You need to be strong for him right now and this whole panic thing you're doing is just going to scare him off.”
“I just want to get him home.”
Brendon slides his hand up Shane's arm and covers Shane's hand with his own. “He's not going home. They're taking a few days, and then they're going to keep touring acoustically.”
“He's coming home with me. This tour is over.” Shane looks so dead set on it, that Brendon actually begins to worry if he's going to be able to talk Shane out of it.
“That's the problem,” Brendon starts. “He's not. He's touring because this is what he does, and he loves it as much as he loves you, and if you ask him not to, he's going to leave with you and then he's going to spend the rest of life wondering what if. Do you really want to do that to him?” He pauses. “When you calm down and think about it rationally, is that what you really want?”
Shane sighs. “We're going to have to talk about this more. Later, once I've seen him, OK? Because I get what you're saying and rational Shane is telling me that you're right.”
“But Shane The Boyfriend just wants to hold his Alex and kiss it right?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Brendon rubs Shane's hand. “It's OK to have both those sides. You're not the only one in this car concerned about someone who was in that van.”
“Shit, I'm sorry, I haven't even thought about asking about Cash, I'm such an asshole.”
“It's OK,” Brendon says easily. “I'm coming at this from a different angle, so my crazy is much less than yours.” He looks at the street sign. “Hey, this is the street that we need.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Brendon says. “The hotel should be at the next right.”
Shane puts the car in motion again and turns where Brendon tells him to turn and the hotel looms up ahead of them. “Thank god,” Shane says.
“Come on,” Brendon says as Shane parks. “I can't believe that you're moving so slow.”
“Hold on!” Shane says, pulling out his cell phone. “Hey baby,” he says into the phone. “Do you want anything? Because I'm here and the second I get to you, I'm not leaving.” He pauses. “Yeah, no, that's in my bag. And yeah, we got food for the whole band. McDonald's. Yeah, it'll be fine. Brendon'll take it to them, I'm coming straight to you. Yeah, baby, I know, I'll be there in like 3 minutes. Fast as they'll let me in. Yeah, love you too.” He clicks the phone shut. “OK. We're good now.”
“So I'm on food duty?” Brendon asks, picking up the mass of McDonald's bags.
“Yeah, if you would, please?” Shane pleads. “I got mine and Alex's here and I just want to,” he snaps his head toward the hotel.
“You're dying right now, in this parking lot, having this conversation, aren't you?”
“Also, I'm freezing my nuts off.”
“Go, Romeo. Go to your Juliet.”
Shane grabs his bags and darts across the parking lot.
…
“Eat another one,” Shane insists, holding a french fry in front of Alex's face. “You only ate half a burger. Normally you eat all of yours and then steal half of mine.”
“It's because your old man stomach can't handle fast food as well as mine,” Alex says. “I don't want it.”
Shane cradles him closer to his chest. “How are you feeling?”
“Sleepy. And a little nauseous. They said the painkillers might do that.” He pauses and looks down at his leg. “I think the bleeding has totally stopped.”
“You want crackers, baby? I can get you crackers. And ginger ale. Will you eat that if I get it for you?”
“Maybe,” he yawns. “But then you'd have to move.” He rubs his cheek along Shane's chest. “I can't believe you're really here.”
“Don't fall asleep on me yet. We haven't decided on the crackers and ginger ale situation. The lack of eating is worrying me.”
“It's the blood loss.”
Shane flinches. “Yeah.” He scoots Alex carefully onto the pillow, despite his protests. “Crackers, baby.” He looks at Alex and grabs the trashcan from by the door and places it on the bed. “Here's a puke bucket. I'm going to get you some ice too, OK? I'll be back before you can miss me.”
He grabs the ice bucket and pads down the hall to the machine. “Hey Brendon,” Shane says, a little surprised to see him there. “How are the guys?”
“Good. Cash and me have been hanging out with them. Marsh's passed out on pain pills though. How's Singer.”
“Having a reaction to his painkillers. I think he's going to puke. He barely ate.”
“He turned down McDonald's?” Brendon sounds a little amazed. “What are you doing out here?”
Shane pulls a couple of dollars out of his pocket and goes to the vending machines. “I told him that I would get crackers and ginger ale and ice. And now I'm going to go hold his hair while he pukes. He'd better know how much I love him right now.”
Brendon grabs Shane's ice bucket and fills it up for him. “How are you doing on the freaking out front?”
“I'm resisting the urge to wrap him up and take him home. It doesn't help that I missed the hell out of him in December, got him for a little bit just to have him taken away again. I just really want to be selfish and tell everyone to fuck off and just let me have him.”
“I know.”
Shane knows Brendon doesn't know what else to say, and there really isn't anything to say. Shane just needs to throw this temper tantrum and get it out of his system. “How's my cousin?”
“Feeling guilty as shit. You think you could come say hi to him? Or I could tell him it's OK to come to your room? He thinks it's his fault and I think you not talking to him right now is sort of making it worse.”
“Can I tell you something that can't be ever repeated?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Shane scans the hallway. “I'm fucking pissed at him. It's irrational, because I know, I fucking know it was black ice and there was no way in hell that he could have prevented it, but I just. I don't know.”
“You need someone to be mad at. Yeah, I know. But you're not really mad at him, and I think he just wants to apologize.”
Shane sighs. “He's got nothing to apologize for.” He looks at the crackers and ginger ale in his hands. “Ask him to drop by. I've got to get back to Alex though, I really think he's going to puke.”
“Yeah, go.”
…
Shane's cleaning the vomit from the trashcan when he hears a gentle knock. Alex sleeps through it and Shane opens the door. “Ian,” he says affectionately, wrapping his arms around him. “Sorry I haven't come to see you.”
“Yeah,” Ian says against his shoulder. “But you were needed here. I know that. And I totally understand if you're mad at me.”
“Hey, no,” Shane says. “No. I'm not.” He's honestly not. He thanks god that everyone just made it out OK. There was no one to blame. “It was black ice. I'm just glad you're OK.”
“Yeah, I'm fine. How's he?” Ian asks, nodding to the bed.
“Sick. He's having a reaction to the antibiotics and painkillers and everything that's happened. Come in, though it probably smells like puke in here. He threw up a few times, I'm used to it now, but I get it if you're a little grossed out.”
“It's OK,” Ian says, stepping inside.
Alex whimpers softly from the bed, and Shane places a cold washcloth on his neck. “You gonna throw up again? I don't think you have anything left to come up, baby,” Shane says as he cards his fingers through Alex's hair. Alex rolls a little into the touch and falls back to sleep.
Shane gives Ian a weak smile. “I hear I picked the wrong Alex to fall for - Marshall's sound asleep not puking into a trashcan. That would be nice.”
Ian's smile back is just as weak. “I'm so sorry.”
“Ian, come on, don't do this to yourself.” He gets up from Alex's side to hug Ian again. “Black ice, kid. Just be glad that it's all stuff that you're all going to heal from and all of your gear can be replaced.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Are Brendon and Cash? You know? Like you and Singer? Because they keep trying to pretend that they're not, but I'm totally getting something there, and at this point, I really have to know because I can't take anymore going crazy thing.”
“Did Alex and I really screw with you that bad?”
“You're kind of self-centered, you know?” Ian grins. “Dude, though, a little bit. I kept wondering, because you weren't acting like you but it's not like I knew you around Brendon, so I thought it was that, and I'd only just met Singer, and now it's like happening again, and there was this accident, and I really need to be calmed down.” He looks and Shane. “And not chased with sticks.”
Alex moans again. “Help me with him, would you?” Shane asks as he crawls to the center of the bed and pulls Alex to his chest. “Alex, you have to stop moving around,” he says and Alex just snuffles slightly. Shane looks to Ian. “Just sort of angle him so he's on his stomach as much as possible and then get that leg elevated, will you? I think the only way he's going to stop thrashing is if I'm here.”
“Yeah, of course.” He picks up Alex's legs and inspects it. “Shane,” he says cautiously. “I think his bandage needs to be changed.”
“Shit,” Shane curses as he tries to untangle himself. The second he'd stilled after pulling Alex up onto him, Alex had made himself into an instant barnacle on Shane's chest.
“Hey, I can do it,” Ian says. “Just tell me where the stuff from the hospital is. I don't mind.”
“It's on the counter in the bathroom.” He strokes Alex's head softly and kisses the part in his hair. “You got it?” he asks Ian when he doesn't return immediately.
“Yeah, just washing my hands first.” Ian's drying off on a towel as he comes out. He peels the old bandage away and gasps a little. “Dude, have you?”
Shane shakes his head and looks away from Alex's leg. “I'm sort of living in denial for right now. It's easier if I don't have to look at it.”
“Yeah, sure.” Ian blots at some of the dried blood with a wet cloth. “Looks like it's not bleeding at all now. You've just got to keep it clean and dry.”
“You will right?” Shane asks. “There's already talk of the tour continuing and I can't stay here forever. So when I'm not here, you'll make sure he's OK, right?”
“I'm sure Cash will,” Ian says slowly.
“No, it has to be you. You're the only one I trust with him when I can't be here for him.”
Ian tapes down a clean piece of gauze. “Yeah, of course. I'll take care of him Shane, he's my friend. And I'm the only one not really hurt, so it makes sense.”
“I want you to do it because you're my cousin, and I trust you. Not because I hold you responsible in any way, Ian.”
Ian stares at him. “Yeah, Shane, of course. Don't even worry.” He props Alex's leg up on a pillow. “I'll just, you know?” He motions to the door.
“You still hungry? Crack that window open so we can air out the room and you can eat all the food Alex and I didn't eat and watch a movie with me.” He shifts Alex a little on his chest. “As you can see, my company is a little less than entertaining.”
Ian smiles. “You got it, cousin.”
…
Cash pushes on Brendon's shoulder when Ian takes his leave. “Hey,” he whispers. “How's Shane?”
Brendon blinks at him. “Don't you mean, how's Singer?”
“I saw Singer in the hospital. I know how he is, and if anything bad happened, like needing to go back to the hospital, I'd already know. I'm actually asking about Shane, hence, me saying 'how's Shane'.”
“Shane's good,” Brendon says.
“Why are you lying to me?” Cash asks, ripping into his second burger. “I saw your face when you walked in here, you were a fucking wreck. I can't even imagine what Shane's going through.”
“He's terrified,” Brendon says. “I guess now Singer's throwing up or something. And he wants to take him home.” Brendon puts up a hand before Cash can protest. “He's not taking Alex anywhere he doesn't want to go, he's not even going to say anything about it. But you know Shane.” He shrugs. “And Alex.”
Cash nods and smiles as Brendon reaches over to swipe at some ketchup at the corner of his mouth. “You're just a big gooey center, aren't you, Colligan?”
“I'm hardcore and if you tell anyone anything else, I get to punch you once in the testicles.”
Brendon shoulder butts him. “You like my testicles too much.”
“Hey, watch the bruising. I'm damaged goods here.”
Cash watches Marshall roll onto his side. “Hey, Jizzle, watch the kid, right? He can't lay on his face.”
Johnson flips the channel on the TV. “Dude, I know. Also, if he lays on his face, I think the screaming will let us know.”
“Dude, if it gets to the screaming part, he's gonna tear his stitches.”
“I got this, guys,” Brendon says, getting up from the couch. He rolls Marshall back onto his back and places a pillow on his right side. “That's the way he always rolls, right?”
“Yeah,” Cash says. “Thanks.”
“No worries. I've got the working legs, right?”
Cash blinks up at him. “So, um, I think Brendon and I are going to go to the other room. Yes?” He looks at Brendon hopefully.
“And pretend that you're not going to spoon? Yeah, please do that in the other room,” Johnson says as he flips the channel again.
“We're gonna go... manly stuff, dude,” Cash says. “And if there is manly cuddling then that's what there will be and you can deal.”
“Sure. I'm calling you though if I need Brendon's legs again before Ian gets back.”
“Fair enough,” Brendon says, helping Cash to his feet. “I'll be here. Well, there.”
…
“Alex,” Shane whispers, “company.”
Ian smiles. “It's OK. It's not like you're going to start having sex. He's just kissing your neck. He probably doesn't even know he's doing it.”
Shane's eyes flick to the clock. “Do you think I can bother you to grab his pills off the TV? He seems awake enough to take them now.”
“Of course.” Ian hopes off the bed. “Which ones?”
“The little ones. He only needs the antibiotics twice a day.”
Ian shakes a pill into Shane's hand.
“Alex,” Shane says softly, tipping Alex's head up. “I want you to take this pill. Open wide, baby.” He puts the pill on Alex's tongue and pours a little water in. “Swallow.”
Alex closes his mouth and swallows. “Crackers?” he asks sleepily.
“Of course.” He reaches over for the packet and places one by Alex's lip. “Alex, cracker,” he reminds him.
“Mmmm,” Alex hums before munching lazily, getting crumbs all down Shane's shirt. “Crackers are fun.”
“How high is he right now?” Ian asks.
“I don't care as long as the vomiting has stopped.” He holds another cracker up. “More,” he prods.
“Should I go?” Ian asks.
“No,” Shane says, pushing the cracker gently in Alex's mouth. “You're more than welcome to stay. If you're uncomfortable, I'm not going to make you stay, but I'd like you to hang here.”
“Is this because my mom yelled at you?”
“It might be because I ignored your mom's phone calls,” Shane says with a smile. He looks down to see Alex push a half masticated wad of crackers out of his mouth and onto Shane's chest. Alex giggles. “Thanks, baby,” Shane says. “Are you done with the crackers then?” He picks the wad up and shoves it into an empty Sprite can.
“More please,” Alex says lazily. “Didn't like that one.”
Shane grabs another cracker and places it at Alex's lips. “What about this one?”
Alex nibbles at it for a second and then falls asleep. “Maybe I'm over medicating him,” Shane says as Ian lays down next to him.
“He's tiny. The glass they took out of him was almost as big as him.” Ian blinks when Shane's face changes. “Sorry, I forgot, you're avoiding.”
Shane rests his head on Ian's shoulder. “Can't avoid what you guys do forever.”
…
Shane's got a crick in his neck when he wakes up to Alex shoving at him. “Alex, Ian's sleeping.”
“Baby, baby, baby, baby,” Alex chants.
“I'm right here,” Shane whispers. “What?”
“I have to pee. Right now. Right now, right now. Gonna pee on you.”
Shane looks down at him, and worries a little bit at how his pupils are blown wide from the pain medicine. “OK, hold on.” He slides out from under Alex. “Gonna get you up.”
“No,” Alex whines, drawing the word out. “I hurt. Just gonna pee here.”
Ian yawns awake. “Is he going to wet the bed?”
“No, but cover your eyes.” Shane runs and dumps the melted ice out of the plastic bucket.
“Huh?”
“He's going to pee in this bucket, and I'd prefer it if you didn't watch.” Shane pushes Alex to a more or less sitting position and pulls out his dick.
“Oh my god, I thought you were going to make him pull it out,” Ian says. He starts to turn away, but Alex falls against him.
“Ian, could you hold him up?”
“Singer,” Ian says, “you won't remember this probably tomorrow, but I'm saying that you owe me.” Ian looks up at Shane. “Dude, he so does. I'm holding him up while my cousin pulls on his dick to help him pee. This is so much more than what I signed up for.”
“I love you, Ian Crawford,” Alex slurs as he starts to pee. “I'm peeing in bed!” he exclaims gleefully.
“Yeah, you are,” Shane says. “OK.” He shakes Alex off and tucks him back in. “You play nice with Ian and I'm going to take care of this.”
“He loves me,” Alex slurs. “He takes care of me lots.”
“I know,” Ian says. The toilet flushes in the bathroom. “And you love him and take care of him. Because he's my family.”
“You're OK, right? Because I do.”
“Yeah,” Ian says, smiling. “It's good now. You thirsty?”
Alex licks his lips. “Very. I peed out all the liquid in my body.”
“Yeah, I know,” he says, passing Alex a bottle of water. “Can you drink it on your own or do you need help.”
“Yay, water,” Alex says and he downs the majority of the water in one long swallow.
The tap in the bathroom turns off and Shane comes out. “Slow down, baby, you'll make yourself sick again.”
“My leg hurts.”
“I know,” Shane says, crawling back into the bed and under Alex. “Go back to sleep.”
…
“Dude, OK, I'm sorry,” Cash says. “I, um, I'm 18, I'm not supposed to have this issue.”
“It's OK,” Brendon says. “You were in a really bad accident, and you've got the medicine thing. I mean, it happened to me once, when I smoked too much weed.”
“Really?”
“No.”
“Asshole.”
Brendon snuggles up to Cash's side. “Dude, we shouldn't even have been trying. You're not up for sex.”
“Nice boner.”
“Not my fault that you can't have one.”
“Dude, I'm going to run away from you now and you can be alone in this hotel room. With no Cash Money lovin'.”
“Oh baby, you're so sexy when you talk like that,” he says kissing along Cash's neck. “How about you lie back and let me come on your face?”
Cash snorts out a laugh. “I'm sorry, I think you've got me confused with someone else. You're not coming on my face. Ever.”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Because you shoved your dick down my throat, I choked, and you came as I pushed you into the wall. The fact that it got on my face was purely accidental.”
Brendon laughs. “I love that you can eat my ass so long and so throughly I can come without anything else, but the second I suggest coming on your face, you say it's too gay.”
“Singer lets Shane come on his face. Apparently it's a big kink of Shane's,” Cash says.
“Is that why you think it's too gay? Because Singer likes it?”
Cash shakes his head. “No, it's too gay because it's too gay. Look, if you want to fuck me, then fuck me, but you're not coming on my face. It's my line.”
Brendon laughs and kisses Cash's temple. “That's so many shades of awesome. Come on, we should get that leg elevated.”
“What about the fucking?”
“Not happening, Cash.”
“Brendon?” Cash asks, settling back into the pillows. “Could you do me a huge favor?”
“Sure,” he says, propping Cash up, only consulting the After Care guide once. “What's up?”
“Go check on Singer and Shane for me.”
“You're totally not going to be able to sleep unless you know that they're OK.” Brendon grins.
“Go!”
…
“Hey Ian,” Brendon says when Ian opens the door. “I brought ginger ale, in case Singer was still puking.”
Ian yawns. “No, but we just had a very interesting urination experience. Come in to the funtime.”
“Awesome. Hey Shane. I got your boy a soda.”
Shane's got Alex curled back into his chest, snoring softly, injured leg jutting out of the covers. “Thanks, Brendon. How's Cash?”
Brendon pulls the covers down to cover Alex's foot. “He's good. Worried about you two.” He turns to Ian. “You're now privy to secret boyfriend information that you must swear on your guitar that you will never repeat.”
“There are so many things that have happened in this room that I just want to forget,” Ian says, flopping back down onto the bed. “You have a boner. Any other night that would freak me out, or make me question my sanity, but today?” He sighs sadly. “Can I have one of Singer's crackers?”
Shane passes Ian the crackers. “Why do you have a boner, Brendon?”
Brendon sprawls out on the extra bed. “Cash was.” He glances over at Ian. “Anyway, being delicate to Ian there, we started something that Cash couldn't finish.”
“He was in an accident!” Ian exclaims, spewing cracker crumbs all over Shane. “Sorry.”
“Don't worry about it,” Shane says. “It's not the first time tonight.” He sighs. “Why were you trying to have sex with Cash when he's just been in a very serious accident?”
“He started it!” Brendon says. “And that's how we do the whole,” he motions to Alex, sleeping soundly on Shane's chest. “We're not like you two. We have our ways.”
Ian starts singing I'm A Little Tea Pot and covering his ears.
“You're going to break my baby cousin.”
“Whatever, Cash sent me here on a mission to make sure you're OK.”
“Make sure Alex's OK, you mean.”
“No, you. And Alex, but mostly you, since Singer's totally out of it. Ian, you can uncover your ears,” he adds loudly.
Ian uncovers his ears. “Dude, did you leave Marshall alone with Johnson?”
“Yeah, I made him a pillow-face protector before I left him though, and told Johnson to call my room if he needed anything. You're all going to end up in that room, aren't you? Why did we bother with the fourth room anyway?”
“Because just because we're not using it tonight, doesn't mean we won't use it later.” Ian yawns. “I'm going to go check in on those guys, let them know how Singer's doing, while leaving out the vomiting and pissing thing.”
“Thanks,” Shane says. “Tell your mom I said hi.”
Ian gives him a thumbs up. “You got it.”
“OK,” Brendon starts. “Alex looks a little worse than I thought.”
Shane rubs Alex's hair and kisses his forehead. “He's fine, he's got me.” Alex drools a little and Shane wipes at it with the side of the sheet. “He's going to be OK, and they're going to continue to tour, and I'm going to be OK with it, even when I'm touring with you in a big bus and they're stuck in a tiny van that could flip at any moment and kill them all.”
“Keep telling yourself that, except the last part. The bus could flip just as easily.”
“He's doing what he loves, and he's really happy. And if I made him just stay, he wouldn't be happy.”
“And then you wouldn't be happy.”
“Fuck you and your sage like wisdom. You're younger, I'm supposed to give you advice.”
“Good, so later when I'm having my issues with my boyfriend who can't use the word boyfriend because of his obsession with bromance, you're the one to come to, right?” Brendon bounces off the bed and heads for the door.
“I'm your man.”
…
Shane blinks awake to small sounds of pain coming from Alex. “Bathroom?” Shane asks drowsily.
“No. Well, yes. It itches. And I have to pee.”
“Hold on baby, let me wake up.”
“I love you,” Alex says. “Because I do, and because I'm also pretty sure that in the last few hours I've puked into a trashcan and peed in a bucket.”
“You did, baby. It's OK.”
“You never call me baby, but you've been doing it a lot since you showed up.”
Shane smiles. “I thought it was comforting?”
“It is.” He kisses Shane on the neck. “Please help me up though, I really am not in enough of a drug induced stupor to pee in a bucket again. Weird thing is, I think I hallucinated Ian being here.”
“Yeah,” Shane says slowly. “He was here. That wasn't a hallucination.”
“Oh god,” Alex moans and then winces. “Ow, OK, ow, Shane, ow.”
“Don't move, baby.” He reaches down and grasps Alex's knee, turning it slowly so that the skin of the wound isn't stretched at such a weird angle. “Better?”
“Yeah. OK,” he says, face falling. “Do you think maybe I can pee in the bucket again?”
“Yeah.” Shane scoots out from under Alex, ignoring his own pressing need to use the bathroom. He grabs the bucket from the bathroom sink. “Here, hold on,” he says putting the bucket on the nightstand and helping Alex to sit. “Do you need me to hold the bucket?”
“I kind of want to do this myself,” Alex says, flushing hotly. “Not that I don't.” He screws up his face as he pauses to think. “I've told you I love you so much for being here, right?”
“You have.” He kisses Alex on the cheek. “I'm actually going to run to the bathroom real quick. You good?”
Alex nods and Shane excuses himself to the bathroom. He doesn't bother to flush before heading back to the bed.
“Sorry,” Alex says, holding out the bucket.
“Don't be sorry at all, Alex. This is what I'm here for.” He takes the bucket to the bathroom and takes care of it. “Are you hungry?” he asks after washing the bucket and his hands.
“A little? Did I spit a cracker on you?”
“Yeah,” Shane says with a smile. “You didn't like that one.”
“Oh, god. That's really, really embarrassing. Why are you even still here? I threw up on your hands!”
“I think it's that whole me loving you thing. Makes me do crazy things, but if in the future you could aim more in the bucket, that would make me so happy.” He sits down next to Alex. “There's a Denny's half a block from here. You want?”
“Yeah. Moons Over My Hammy.” He pushes himself up with his elbows. “Ow.”
Shane helps prop his bad leg up on the pillow. “That all?”
“What are you getting? Can I eat the rest of yours?”
“That's my boy.” He kisses the side of Alex's face and hands him the remote. “I'm going to do the good cousin-slash-friend thing and take orders, so I'll be gone for a bit. You gonna be OK?”
Alex blinks at him. “I want to see my band.”
“You got it.” He leans down and picks Alex up. “Any more requests? Though, I should have asked before picking you up.”
“Love you,” Alex says. “That's all.”