I Think I Just Might

Billie was just waking up, even though it was two in the afternoon. He blinked his eyes, trying to see what had woken him from his comfortable sleep, but the light was too bright for him.

Something poked him sharply on the skin between his hip and the bottom of his ribcage. Billie cried out in surprise, flapping his arms wildly at the source of the small pain.

“Wake up, Armstrong,” a familiar voice said as the owner poked him again with a long finger.

Billie groaned, trying to ignore Mike. He pulled the covers over his head, as if that would make the bassist go away.

Mike ripped the doona off of Billie and threw it across the room. “Time to get up!” he said cheerfully.

“Go away,” Billie mumbled as he curled into a ball, trying to stay warm in the cool hotel room.

“Here, drink.” Mike picked up a mug he had placed on the bedside table before he had gone to wake Billie up.

Billie uncoiled slightly to see what the taller man had. “Coffee?”

Mike nodded.

“How many sugars?”

“One and a half.” Mike laughed. “I’ve been making you coffee for twenty years, Bill. I know how you like it.”

“Fair enough,” Billie said as Mike handed him the drink. He had a sip. “Well, you do know how I like it.” He winked cheekily.

Mike grinned at him, and the two fell into a comfortable silence as Mike sat down on the edge of Billie’s bed.

After he had finished the hot drink, Billie sat up to put his arms around Mike’s waist. Mike moved just out of reach.

“Tre could be back soon. He didn’t say how long he was going out for.”

Even though Mike had moved away, Billie simply moved closer to put his arms around Mike. He leant his head on Mike’s back. “Nothing wrong with two guys hugging.”

“Mmm.” Mike placed one of his hands on Billie’s – the one that still had Billie’s wedding ring on it. Billie hadn’t taken it off since the divorce, he kept it on because he said now it represented his family, not his marriage.

“I think we should tell him,” Billie mumbled into Mike’s back.

“Tre?”

“Yeah. I feel bad, going behind his back for all this time.”

Mike wasn’t so sure if they should tell Tre. He thought it would probably only make things awkward, and besides, he and Billie weren’t really a couple, anyway.

They had been together, for want of a better word, since just after the release of Warning. Five years on, and nothing official.

Billie removed his arms from around Mike’s waist and put his hands on his shoulders, where he began to massage. “So tense, Mikey.”

“Sorry.”

Billie laughed. “Not your fault.” He continued to massage, humming Scattered off-key. “Where did Tre go?”

“I’m not sure, Jase took him somewhere.”

Billie dug in a bit harder with his thumb. “Where your bass strap goes is all tense.” He used both hands to massage the spot he was talking about. “White or Freese?”

“Freese.” Mike let out a short burst of breath as Billie applied more pressure.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” Billie asked worriedly, relieving the pressure slightly.

“No. Well, yes. But it was good.”

Billie giggled. “I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing.”

“Real mature, Billie Joe.” Mike snorted.

“I know.” Billie stopped massaging and instead lay back down on his bed. “I’m so tired, Jesus. What the hell did we do last night?”

“Oh, the usual. Played our crappy little songs to a million people.” Mike picked up the empty coffee mug and took it out to the kitchenette.

“Ahhh, that’s right.” Billie sighed happily. “I remember now.”

“Why do we have such a small hotel room?” Mike asked, calling from the sink, which wasn’t very far at all from the three men’s beds.

“Careful, Mike. You sound spoilt,” Billie teased. “We have this, because Tre is a fucking weirdo and wanted us to bond during this tour,” he grumbled. “I don’t see why he got us this small a room, though.”

The room wasn't necessarily small, it was just compact. To the three musicians, however, it was small - especially too small for three grown men who never cleaned up after themselves. There was a bedroom with a bunk bed and a single bed, a tiny bathroom and a kitchenette connected to a lounge room that could just fit in a two-seated couch.

“Do you want breakfast?” Mike asked, changing the subject. He didn’t want to mention Tre in case Billie started talking about wanting to tell him. He walked back to the bedroom.“We have a piece of bread left.”

Billie sat up and cocked his head to the side. “Mike?”

Mike looked behind his shoulder, pretending he wasn’t sure if Billie was talking to him. He pointed at his own chest. “Me?”

Billie grinned the grin that Mike loved. It was a kind of half-smirk filled with love. Mike had no other way to describe it.

“I think I just might love you.”

Mike swayed on the spot, caught utterly off-guard. He and Billie had never said they loved each other. Mike knew he loved Billie and that Billie loved him, but they’d never said it.

“Just might?” Mike teased. For just a fraction of a second, Mike regretted he hadn’t responded more seriously. But when Billie smiled, eyes sparkling, he knew it was alright.

Billie patted the space on the bed in front of him, Mike went and sat down. They both sat, cross-legged, staring at each other.

“I think I just might love you too, Billie Joe Armstrong.”

Billie smiled again and took one of Mike’s hands, playing with his fingers with a childlike expression on his face. “So what’s the plan today?”

Mike looked at Billie’s face instead of answering his question. He looked completely worn out – he had bags under his eyes from too many nights of not enough sleep, his clothes were dishevelled, although Mike supposed that could be attributed to sleeping in them. He hadn’t shaved in a while and stubble poked out from his chin. His hair wasn’t its usual black spiky self, because Billie hadn’t washed it in at least a week and it was caked with product.

“What?” Billie asked uncertainly – Mike had been staring at him for some time.

“You’re beautiful.” He kissed Billie’s cheek. “We have to get you some breakfast, princess.”

Billie blushed. Although he never would admit it, he loved it when Mike called him that. He leant toward Mike to kiss him, when Tre burst through the door.

“Hellooo!” he sang, putting both his arms up into the air.

Billie’s eyes widened and he drew away from Mike quickly. “Hey, Tre. Where did you go?”

Jason Freese appeared at Tre’s shoulder. “What are you two doing?”He peered at Billie and Mike who were still sitting cross-legged on Billie’s bed, although not as close as they were before.

“I’m telling Mike his future.” Billie grabbed Mike’s hand and held it, palm-up, in his own. He closed his eyes. “I’m seeing...you will marry...a princess.”

Tre, Billie and Jason laughed. Mike stared at Billie curiously, the guitarist avoiding his gaze.

Billie’s eyes flitted to Mike’s for a second, then he asked Tre again where he had gone.

“We went to get a movie,” Tre said.

“And by we,” Jason butted in, “he means himself.”

“Well, you came along,” Tre said reasonably.

“Yes, but you wouldn’t let me pick! And it was my idea!”

Tre laughed him off. “So, do you wanna know what it is?” he teased. Jason held up a bag that assumedly contained the movie the two men had bought and waggled it around.

“Will you promise to watch it with us?”

“Yes,” Billie said at the same time as Mike said “No.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, Mikey boy.” Tre grinned. He took the bag from Jason and lifted out the DVD so Billie and Mike could read the title.

Mike’s mouth fell open. “No. I am never ever watching The Notebook with you. EVER.”