Hold the Place

Alex is drunk when he kisses Matt for the first time that night, sucking the tour manager’s lower lip into his mouth, flicking at Matt’s lip ring with his tongue. That doesn’t make Matt want it any less; it doesn’t make it mean anything. He doesn’t fight it. Instead he just kind of reaches up and cups Alex’s cheek, feeling the rough of the singer’s stubble with his fingertips. He wonders if Alex realizes that this isn’t Jack he’s kissing – that this is, in fact, his tour manager and that his boyfriend is going to be extremely pissed if and when he finds out. Alex whines impatiently, pushing his hips against Matt’s and clinging, tugging at the thin fabric of Matt’s shirt.

Here’s the thing: Matt is basically in love with him. No, he is – from the way he schedules their interviews so that Alex can always sleep in, the way he accommodates him when he’s in a bitchy mood and doesn’t want to talk to anyone, it should be fairly obvious. Without Matt’s watchful eye, the fans would see exactly how neurotic and moody Alex has been lately; actually, he’d been meaning to talk to Alex about that. He opens his eyes, peering at Alex cross-eyed, wondering what the fuck is going on with him. But now Alex is kissing him, eyes closed, and that doesn’t make any sense at all.

“What,” he says when Alex pulls away, gripping the singer’s arms gently. He’s swaying, pretty unsteady on his feet, but his brown eyes are all business. “Alex, come on.”

“You kissed me back,” Alex says softly. His eyes are pretty, almost glittering in the dim lighting in the bus. “I broke up with Jack.” His fingers curl into Matt’s shirt, bunching the soft cotton into his fists. “I’m very drunk right now,” he mumbles. “C’n we sit down? The world is spinning.” Alex collapses onto the couch after Matt, giggling softly.

Matt rubs at his temples. “It’s getting late. You need to go to bed,” he sighs. Alex’s head is in his lap. He has this stupid urge to reach out and brush Alex’s sweaty bangs out of his eyes; he ignores it. “You’re just upset right now. Close your eyes, yeah?” It’s quiet on the bus; everyone else has gone to bed. He rubs Alex’s cheek with the pad of his thumb; he’s not sure why. It seems right somehow.

“Do you know what the spaces between my fingers are for?” Alex asks him.

“I don’t know.” Matt bites his lip, uncertain. He’s not sure if Alex is being serious or if he’s rambling because he’s drunk. And anyway, he doesn’t know the right answer. He considers his own hand for a moment. Seems like a weird question to be asking, but he’s known Alex long enough to expect this kind of thing. “There’s just... empty space.”

“Matt. Come on. It’s a simple question,” Alex says. He locks their fingers together, grinning like some kind of idiot. “I said, do you know what the spaces between my fingers are for?”

“... My fingers?” It’s the only answer that makes any kind of sense. Alex just smiles, presses his lips to the inside of Matt’s wrist as he lets go. This is the kind of idiotically romantic thing that only Alex would ever think about. He noses Matt’s wrist, breathing soft and gentle on the pulse point. It’s pretty obvious that he’s not going to remember any of this in the morning. Matt needs to maintain control, make sure neither of them does anything that they’ll regret later on. “Alex, you really need to go to bed now.”

“I have another question first.”

And Matt knows that there’s no arguing – not if he wants to keep Alex from sulking. “Okay,” he sighs. “One more question, and then you are going to bed. You have interviews in the morning.” He tries not to stare at Alex’s defined collarbones peeking out from his v-neck shirt. God, is he crazy? Alex reaches for his hand again, peering up at him through dark lashes. This is a crazy, almost-romantic situation. This is something that happens in dreams, not real life. Matt can barely breathe.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” Nothing even makes sense. Alex’s head is in his lap, they are holding hands, and now Alex is saying – in some sense, at least – that he wants Matt to sleep with him. So how drunk is he to be saying this? “I just, I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Okay,” Matt says quietly. He follows behind Alex – still holding his hand – and waits as Alex crawls into the nearest unoccupied bunk. “I guess you’re not used to sleeping alone anymore.” Alex has curled up in a little ball, pressing his back against the wall. He looks really miserable. Matt has this urge to kiss him again, but he also knows that it probably won’t end well if he does. Alex has a tendency to freak out about the smallest of things, so he really doesn’t want to make the poor kid feel any worse. “D’you need anything before you go to sleep?” he asks.

Alex says something, so softly Matt doesn’t hear it the first time. He clears his throat, fumbling with the bracelets on his left wrist. “I... I kind of need you to kiss me again.” He touches Matt’s wrist, trailing his shaking fingers tentatively across Matt’s palm. The truth is that Matt’s never seen him freaking out this badly over a simple kiss and he doesn’t know what to do. “I need to know that wasn’t a mistake,” Alex whispers. “It’s cool if you don’t want to.” But Matt can tell by the look in his eyes that it’s not, because if it was, Alex wouldn’t be looking like he wants to cry.

He leans forward, supporting himself on his elbows. “Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t make a mistake.” And with a move he thought he’d only ever get to dream of, he’s leaning in until their foreheads are touching, gazing into Alex’s eyes questioningly. The look he gets in return is frightened, unsure. It’s making his head swim with possibility. “Alex... Are you sure?” When Alex doesn’t say anything, he closes the gap between them, touching Alex’s lips with his own. Alex is kissing back slowly, cupping the back of his neck, nipping gently at his lip ring. The kiss from earlier was fucking amazing, but it’s nothing compared to this. Matt laces their fingers together, trying to coax Alex into his arms.

Alex pulls away abruptly, murmurs, “Fuck, I’m sorry. You probably... I’ll go to sleep now.” He rolls onto his other side, facing the wall, and Matt knows that he’s probably crying. But Matt doesn’t move; he lies there and rubs Alex’s back, saying the usual soothing things until the singer eventually falls asleep. It’s pretty late when Matt falls asleep – and it’s probably only three or four hours later when he’s awakened by Alex shuffling around in the bunk, trying to get out without waking him.

He opens his eyes, blinking against the bright sunlight. “Good morning,” he whispers. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Alex sighs. “Don’t worry about me; I’m just hung-over and tired. I was tryin’ to let you sleep some more since you were awake all night taking care of me.” His hair is lank and greasy; it hangs in his eyes, but Matt knows he’s using it as a device to obscure the blush creeping across his cheekbones. It’s so easy to tell when Alex is embarrassed. The light is hitting him in exactly the right way – Matt wants to tell him it’s okay, he can come back and go to sleep. He’s paralyzed by fear. What if last night was a mistake after all? “Matt. You’re doing your blinky, over-analyzing thing again.”

Matt decides it’s time to take a chance and do something that can turn out one of two ways – incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid. “Hey, do you remember what we talked about last night?” he asks. “About the spaces between your fingers and all that?”

Alex pauses. That’s enough. “I thought you’d think it was stupid,” he whispers. “I thought you’d think I was stupid. I mean, you’re always picking up the pieces when I screw up... So I thought I would do you the favour of not making you do that this time around.” He’s blinking back tears. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.” So Matt’s thinking helplessly, trying to find words that express how he feels, and Alex is fucking leaving, crawling over his outstretched legs to tumble out of the bunk. The only thing he can think of to say is incredibly stupid.

“I have a question,” he says.

“Okay,” Alex says, one leg hanging out of the narrow bunk. He’s tugging at his bracelets again; it’s one of those nervous habits he’s developed over the years that Matt finds absolutely adorable. “Dude...?”

Matt inhales deeply. “Do you know what the space between my arms is for?” he asks, hoping Alex won’t look at him and think how scrawny he is. There’s an awkward silence as Alex thinks, processes, formulates some kind of an answer. Obviously, his ideal response would be something like Alex being overcome by emotion and kissing him again, or something... But he’ll settle for as little as Alex lying down beside him again, so that maybe they can cuddle.

“I, uh, I don’t know...” Alex says, playing with his bangs. “Will you tell me?”

“I’m no expert,” Matt says, feeling the blush spreading from the back of his neck up to the tips of his ears. “But I’m pretty sure it’s for you. I... I really liked kissing you last night, both times.” He realizes how stupid he must sound right now, but it doesn’t matter. He needs to make this okay between the two of them; either Alex feels the same way or he doesn’t. So when Alex doesn’t say anything, he starts to worry. Without realizing, he’s sucked his lip ring into his mouth and he worries at it with his teeth, pulling the bead back and forth. Alex wrinkles his nose.

Matt’s genuinely surprised when Alex shuffles back over and curls into his side, pressing nervous kisses to his cheek. “Are you sure?” Alex frets. “I mean, Matt. I’m a fuckin’ mess, you know... You could probably do about a thousand times better than me. I don’t want you thinking you have to, like...”

“Alex,” he breathes, turning his head so that their noses touch. “I have had a crush on you for, like, five years. So don’t tell me I can do better, because you are pretty much it for me. Okay? I get that you’re freaking out right now, but you don’t need to. I’ve seen you at your worst... There’s nothing to be afraid of. You don’t have to try and impress me with pretty semantic bullshit or anything. I just like – love? – like you.”

“I’m just.” Alex rubs at his eyes lazily with one hand. His bracelets slide down his wrist slightly, revealing the faint pink lines that Matt has memorized. “I’m freakin’ out, okay. How do you even know? What if things don’t work out? What if you get sick of me?” He touches Matt’s shoulder worriedly.

Matt voices the obvious question. “What about Jack?”

Alex shakes his head. “It’s over,” he says flatly. “Over before it even began, I think. Just. I wasn’t brave enough to go after what I really wanted. And I think he always knew that, too. It sounds shitty to say, but he was kind of a placeholder for someone else...”

“Then maybe you should tell that person how you feel,” Matt whispers. “’Cause I think that he might not know how much he means to you yet.” He’s running his fingers through Alex’s hair, cupping his jaw.

“Words are useless,” Alex whispers back. “You should really know by now that the space between your lips isn’t really for talkin’, anyway.” His hand is pressed flush against Matt’s ribs. When Matt fails to look anything but perplexed, he continues. “Maybe I should show you what I mean...” And when he kisses Matt this time, it’s slow and deliberate, pressing wet lips to Matt’s chapped ones. He’s been thinking about it, mapping it out this whole time in his head, trying to make sure Matt really wants this.

They’re really doing it, this sappy, slurpy kissing thing. Matt parts his lips, running his tongue along Alex’s lower lip gently. Alex pulls away slightly, shifting so that he’s lying between Matt’s legs. He leans back in, capturing the tour manager’s lips again, tugging at the now-familiar lip ring lightly. “Mmm,” Matt sighs. He’s marvelling at how perfectly Alex fits against his body, touching and kissing and holding in all the right places. Alex makes a little noise when they finally deepen the kiss, but it’s fucking perfect. This is all they need right now – kisses and shared breaths – and so they lay there for the longest time, lazily making out.

Alex pulls away, planting nippy little kisses on Matt’s mouth, out of breath. “You don’t think I’m stupid?” he breathes, looking worried. “Or... crazy?” He’s rubbing at his scars again. Matt makes a face, curls his fingers around Alex’s gently. “Sorry...”

“I love you and all your weird little habits,” Matt tells him. “I know you better than the back of my hand. So... I have another question for you.” Alex doesn’t say anything, just looks at him inquisitively. “Do you know what my brain is actually for?” It’s a really dumb question, but Matt is hoping that he’ll think it’s cute.

“Planning tours and making sure we don’t forget Jack in Oregon again,” Alex remarks dryly.

Matt rolls his eyes. “Well, there’s that, but it is also for looking after you and finding your various neuroses adorable, too.” He kisses at the worry-lines on Alex’s forehead. “I don’t care that you’re a mess, really. Because I was designed specifically for taking care of you, so you don’t need to worry about it anymore. You definitely need to get more sleep, though, or you’re going to bitch all day.”

“I know,” Alex mutters. “But maybe I won’t bitch so much if I have my boyfriend around to take care of me and say cute things to me all the time.” He shuffles around in the bunk again, this time so that their bodies press together and they’re spooning. Matt presses his lips to the back of Alex’s neck. “Wake me when you’re getting up so I don’t panic if I’m alone in bed.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to watch me do all my boring tour manager stuff when you get up.”

Alex laughs. “Who said I was going to let you work? I’m planning on distracting you with kisses as soon as you start looking even remotely serious. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure the reason I’m in your life is to teach you to lighten up a bit...” he yawns. Matt just lies there, watching him as he falls asleep, wondering which guardian angel to thank for giving this perfect moment to him. He’s already thinking about how he’ll wake Alex up later; preferably using his mouth, but he’s not picky. It’s enough to be here, cradling the entire world in his arms. God, he’s even starting to think like Alex. So he falls asleep, humming some Jack’s Mannequin to himself. He can thank Jack for that particular habit, though... Everything else has always been Alex. And, hopefully, it always will be.