This Is Ourselves Under Pressure

BERT'S P.O.V.:

The bus was silent, for once. I guess it must be early in the morning.

Quinn had dragged me out of my bunk on the 'Sober Bus' because I had planned to actually sleep tonight. Quinn thought otherwise.

So here I am. Laying in the bottom bunk of the 'Party Bus', curtain drawn, wide awake, trying hard to sleep, not think.

I did not succeed. Thoughts ran one after the other through my troubled mind. Tomorrow, I was going to see Gerard. Would he still think of me the same? Would he still be the same Gerard I had met this summer? What would he think? What would I think? Tomorrow was going to be the moment of truth... Was what Gerard and I had this summer real? This thought made a lump in my throat, big enough to choke on. The thought made my eyes water with fright and fear of the reactions I came up with, so I silently pushed aside my curtain and swung my legs out to the floor. I was surrounded by drunken, unconscience bodies, all of which were buried under the influence. I glanced around the room, spotting a pack of unopened cigarettes on the kitchen counter. I grabbed them, not caring who they belonged to. Forgetting to be quiet, I marched for the door, letting it slam closed behind me. I dropped softly to the ground, crossing my legs out in front of me, indian-style. I fumbled to open the pack, lighting up. I inhaled too quickly, choking out a small cough.

Honestly, I do not remember finishing that cigarette. I just know there's a burn mark between my fingers where it burnt me before it burnt itself out.

I woke up to the unplesant feeling of Quinn's arms underneath my back and beneath my knees. He laid me back in my bunk, where I immeadiantly fell back asleep.

Three hours later:

"Bert, we're here." Someone's hands were gently shaking me, trying to wake me up. I opened my eyes, looking up at the face peering down at me; Quinn's. I rubbed my eyes with my fists as I sat up. "Are they already here?" I asked, my voice cracked from lack of conversation. "No, not yet. Jepha called Gerard and he said they're on their way." I pulled myself out of the bunk and followed Quinn and Jepha out to the hotel. Once checked in: "Hey wanna go check out the food? I need some tea," Jepha offered. Quinn agreed, but I said I'd rather go up to the room. I got lost a few times, but I finally found the right room.

I started pacing the room. I couldn't sit still, I was too incredibly nervous. I counted how many steps it was from one side of the room to the other. Sixteen. Sixteen by thirteen. But not even numbers could take my mind off my main worry. Finally, once my legs started to ache, I fell back onto the bed. I tried to imagine what it would be like when I first saw him. I imagined his embrace. His arms tight around me. Still, I was nervous. I tried closing my eyes, trying to shut out the paranoia. It didn't work very well.

That's about the time that the door opened. I didn't bother to open my eyes considering it was probably Quinn or Jepha. Then, a set of soft, unmistakeable lips connected with mine. My eyes flew open. "Aw, sorry. I thought you were asleep." His voice was like an angel. I placed each of my hands on either side of his face. He smiled, sheepishly, kissing me again. "I worried for nothing," I sighed, smiling. "What do you mean?" he asked, his expression puzzled. "I expected the worst. That you wouldn't love me anymore when you got here. That maybe you had moved on." I frowned slightly, the images coming back to me. "What?! Bert, are you crazy?" his expression changed from puzzled to frightened, perhaps worried. "I would be if I had been right, and I hope that I'm not." He shook his head, smiling. Gee turned, lying on his back now. His hand found mine, interlacing our fingers. His fingers squeezed mine, and I squeezed back.

GERARD'S P.O.V.:

Here I am lying on a bed in a hotel room with Bert. For the first time in my life, I don't have to be having sex to be happy in a relationship.

I turned my head to see him staring at the ceiling, eyes closed, smiling. "What are you thinking about?" I asked. "How happy I am," he sighed, opening his eyes and turning on his side to face me. "You deserve to be happy," I said simply.

My phone rang loudly in my back pocket.

"Hello?" Muttering.

"Oh, hey Brian." More muttering.

"Alright. Be right there." I ended the call.

"Brian wants us to come downstairs so he can talk to us about the tour." Bert got up and lifted me with him. I pressed my lips hard into his and I felt a smile creep gently across his lips. He put me back on my feet, not letting go of my hand and we walked out of the room towards the elevator. Then, as the doors opened into the large enterance hall, he let go. I felt my face fall, disappointed, but I didn't say anything.

It was hard to miss the group of eight people sitting at a too-small table, eating, drinking, laughing and yelling at each other. Bert took the lead and I purposely stayed behind. "Hey guys," I called when I walked up to the table. Brian started talking about the tour. It was boring and we'd all heard it before, but he was supposed to say it every time we went on a tour. The first show would be tomorrow, in L.A., where we were staying. We picked rooms and roommates. Frank was with Mikey, Ray and Bob were together, Quinn, Jepha, and their tour drummer were in a room, Brian paid for his own room, so that left Bert and I together. I had a feeling one bed wouldn't be used. We were only staying in a hotel one time the whole tour. The rest would be spent on buses, oh joy.

By now, it was late and everyone was heading back to their rooms. I left, with Bert on my trail. We were alone now, so he took the oppertunity to grab my hand. "Why did you let go earlier?" I asked, looking down at our hands; perfect. "Because I was scared." Bert? Scared? Never thought I'd hear him say that. "Oh... I'm sorry." He looked at me with a weird facial expression. "Sorry for what?" he squinted his eyes at me a bit. "For making you scared. I didn't mean to." I pushed the 'up' button on the elevator. "Baby, it isn't your fault. I just don't know what they would say. I should be the one saying sorry." I didn't say anything else. I thought about letting go of his hand. When he let go, it hurt and I wanted to know if I could hurt him, too. But, I didn't dare. Instead, I squeezed tighter.

He unlocked our bedroom and went inside, myself following like man's best friend. He pulled me onto his lap, kissing my neck, sucking on it softly. I strained my neck, the feeling was awkward.

I scrambled out of his lap and under the covers, pulling them over my head. He fumbled after me, on his knees, diving head first under the sheet. "Ah!" I squealed as he pulled me back up. He kissed my forehead, letting me fall back onto my pillow. He laid silently beside me and I rested my head on his chest, his fingers running mindlessly through my mangled hair.

So shut your eyes, kiss me goodbye and sleep.