If Only Until Morning

The minute I got offstage, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I vaguely greeted Max as Escape the Fate went on after us and read the text. After a second, I grinned. "You guys are going to man the booth, yeah?" I asked the guys. They nodded. "'Kay. Try to stay away from oatmeal while I'm gone."

That little tidbit of advice came from the experience of our first day on the road. Naturally, I expected some hazing, who wouldn't? So when I spotted a group of people watching oh-so-surreptitiously from offstage with excited grins, I knew something was up. And I was right. In the literal sense.

Let it be said that oatmeal is not fun to be covered with. Luckily, I only got hit with the bucket.

But that's okay, because I'm a firm believer that turnabout is fair play. Storming stages armed with water guns full of a Sprite- Kool-Aid concoction was sufficiently amusing and revenging. And the fans seem to like it, too. I couldn't help laughing whenever Barakat or Wentz or The Butcher or any other of the dozen or so tricksters walked by all sticky and pink.

But back to the moment at hand. Weaving my way through throngs of fans, some of whom recognised me and asked for pictures or autographs, I navigated myself towards the buses and found the one I was looking for. It was unusually quiet, but Ryan was waiting for me outside his bus.

He grinned upon spotting me. "Everyone's gone," he informed me, pulling me close. I smiled and kissed him hard. My back hit the side of the bus and I winced slightly before ignoring it. So I'd have a bruise; I'd gotten plenty from being with Ryan. But you didn't need to know that.

Still attached at the mouth, we somehow stumbled onto the bus and locked the door. We weren't even into the front lounge by the time he was fumbling with my belt. Apparently he'd been expecting something more complicated than a push-button. When I gave the slightest hint of laughter, he narrowed his eyes and affixed his mouth to my neck. I twisted, chills running through me.

Reaching the couch, I'd relieved him of his shirt, vest, hat, tie, and gotten his pants undone. What can I say? I'm talented. Personally, I had about half as many clothes to peel off, so I guess that made things easier.

I had to chuckle, though, when I lightly pushed Ryan's shoulder and he tumbled to the seat, feet caught in the bottom of his pant legs. Wearing only undergarments and a smile, I straddled his lap and brought his face up to mine.

Something about Ryan's hands always made me focus on them. Sliding along carefully at first, like I was something fragile but something that he needed to feel. Gripping my thigh as I gently bit his lip. Trailing fingers teasingly over my spine, making my back arch.

My head spun, floating miles above the tour sight. My lips tingled with every kiss, skin burning at his touch. A deep ache formed in my chest just from looking at him, eyes sparkling earnestly, and I rolled my head back. Shortage of breath. Increased heart rate. Loss of conscious thought.

"Shower," I murmured against his skin before rolling to the floor and crawling towards the bathroom.

Ryan laughed breathlessly. "Not much for an afterglow, are you?" he asked, following.

I left the bathroom door open and turned on the water. Once he closed the door, I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Afterglows are for when we don't have to worry about a whole manner of people walking in," I reminded with a kiss. Then I pulled him into the tiny cubicle.

"I locked the door," he contested, shutting his eyes beneath the cool water.

"Oh ye of such colossal faith."

"Won't people be suspicious if we walk in together with wet hair?" Ryan mused suddenly, stopping me from opening the door to the bus.

I looked at him passively for a moment. "You think of this now," I pointed out, raising an eyebrow. I shook my head. "I doubt anyone's even here, let alone anyone who would notice or care. But if you worry so much, wait here." With a smile, I opened the door and climbed up the stairs.

I peered out the window and shot a smug smile at Ryan. "Quiet, you," he ordered. And then there came a female shriek from the room into which I was headed, followed closely by a loud thump. Frowning curiously, I tossed open the sliding door and made a revolted noise.

"Oh my fucking god," I declared, slapping a hand over my face. On the floor, thankfully tangled in and covered by a blanket, were Alison and Alex Gaskarth. Completely naked.

Let's jump to conclusions, shall we?

Ali shrieked again, only this time with much less pleasure, and tried to covered herself more. This succeeded in exposing more of Alex, and I spun around. "My poor virgin eyes!"

Breathless, Alex chuckled and suggested, "I can fix that for you."

"That is seventeen kinds of disgusting!" I yelled and quickly fled the bus.

Ryan blinked at me, confused, when I stumbled down the stairs like a zombie. "What--"

"Skin!" I interrupted hysterically, making him start backwards. My head and shoulder jerked, meeting each other in the middle, and the right side of my face wouldn't stop twitching. "Toooo much skin. The tightie-whities were bad enough." I shuddered as that image popped into my head.

Ryan put an arm around me comfortingly and walked me along. I furiously tried to shake the naked people out of my head. "I don't think I'm going to sleep for weeks after that," I mumbled, feet mechanically moving. I twitched again. "He offered to fix my poor virgin eyes. Please kill him."

With the rabble of concert-goers, I barely noticed that we had headed into the merch district until Matt jerked me into reality and into the booth, which people were conveniently ignoring at the moment. "What's up, Pen?" he asked, hiding his concern with a laugh, "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"I think a ghost would have been less scarring," Ryan replied.

The guys all looked at each other. "Who did you walk in on banging?" Jesse asked as Matt sat me in a chair.

"Merch girl," I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut and popping them back open when I realised the image was imprinted on the eyelids.

"And Gaskarth," Ryan supplied, leaning on the table. He shook his head and rubbed my back. "Well, that's one less thing to use for 'Never Have I Ever'."

The rest of the band laughed, but I only shook my head slowly, trying not to blink. It burned to see that over and over again. My eye wouldn't stop twitching, and Matt, seeing this, smiled sympathetically and held a finger over it. With one eye open, the image only halfway played over in my head.

Think of ice skating, I told myself. Think of walking on the pier. Think of anything but Alex Gaskarth naked. Anything but that.

Ryan looked at his watch. "I have to get ready to perform," he informed us. I looked up at him with the same blank, wide-eyed expression as he looked both ways around the booth. He leaned in and planted a quick kiss on my lips before starting off. "I'll see you later."

I watched him disappear into the crowd and turned back to the band, who all were staring at me. A nervous grin tugged at the right corner of my mouth. "Distract me," I pleaded, grin quirking higher. "Do anything to burn it out of my mind."

Matt blinked at me and stood up, leaning onto the table. "Hey, everybody!" he shouted. People stopped to stare and listen. "For the next fifteen minutes, Penny Dreadful is offering free sharpie tattoos for anybody who buys something or gets a picture!"

Cue rush of fans. I think some people even left a couple stages to come and get inked.

"You know, Sundance," I said, glaring at him as I drew a swallow and music notes on some kid's chest, "Sometimes I really hate you."

That fifteen minutes that Matt promised turned into twenty, which turned into fifty, which turned into an hour and a half. Mainly because we were too nice to turn people away. And drawing on fans was sort of fun in a way. But sitting in a metal folding chair for so long put my entire lower body to sleep, so I went to take a break.

I called Ryan immediately, as he hadn't come back to the booth. "Actually, I'm kind of busy right now," he replied when I asked if he wanted to hang out.

"Oh, okay," I replied easily. It didn't matter much. He had a life too. "I'll catch you later then, love." I put my phone into my pocket and looked around, watching a few stragglers mill around in hopes of meeting a band member. Any band member. "Guess I'll go find some entertainment then."

On my way to entertainment-- I'd intended to go watch whoever was playing at the moment-- I ran into Joe Trohman and Patrick Stump, whodemanded suggested I come hang out with them. And since I had nothing better to do, I agreed.

Plus, who could resist the offer of two hilariously adorable guys from whom I could steal a hat?

My face hurt from laughing at Pete trying to break dance and Trohman "layin' down some fresh beats" outside Fall Out Boy's bus. Not that it wasn't cute, their attempt at being street. It was just damn hilarious to watch.

Trying to catch my breath, I realised, looking at my phone, what time it was and thought I should head back to the booth. So I bid my goofy friends goodbye and started off, still grinning and shaking my head. "So white," I muttered, laughing.

I rounded a herd of teenies and stopped, head tilting to the side in disbelief. Before me lay the sight of our merchslut operator-- on yet another break, I noticed-- laughing loudly and obnoxiously with... my boyfriend.

I frowned, scoffing incredulously. Ryan blew me off to hang out with Alison? This would not slide, let me tell you that. If he would rather spend time witha fucking whore another girl, fine. I didn't keep that short a leash. But I could spend time with otherequally as attractive guys.

Getting even with something small like that was easy. But moving in on another girl's guy? That would require more thoughtful revenge.

Turning a one-eighty, I pulled out my phone and scrolled to a name near the bottom. "Shawn," I greeted pleasantly once it picked up. "Doing anything right now? No? Great. At the bus? Gotcha. See you in a minute."

I don't like to play games when it comes to relationships, but if it's instigated, I play to win.