Just a Kiss

Less than an hour. That was all the time he had left to get himself prepared. When he’d gotten the news months ago that he and Jack would be hosting the show, it had felt like he’d have the rest of his life to get himself ready. Now, he felt he didn't have enough time.

Oh, God, he was probably going to be sick on stage in front of thousands of people, both in person and on television.

That was normal, wasn’t it? To throw up from nerves in front of what could very well be millions of people across the globe?

Or, maybe it would’ve been if he didn’t do the same thing every night for a living. He’d gotten over his anxious stage fright, hadn’t he? He was nearly thirty-years-old; he wasn’t some little kid talking in front of a couple hundred unknown faces anymore. Except… he sort of was.

Besides, what was really the worst that could happen? He could stumble over a few words, or trip while going up a set of stairs, or he could (as he’d thought before) throw up on live television, or he could have a full-blown anxiety attack, or he could suddenly forget how to read the teleprompter that had been built into the floor, or—

“Alex, you alright? We gotta get out there in just a bit,” an all-too-familiar voice asked, no more than a few inches from him. As strong arms gripped at his hips before slipping around his waist entirely so that he was pressed against his kinda-but-not-really-secret boyfriend’s chest, lips pressed a gentle kiss over the blue hair that covered his forehead, and he felt his body shake under the force of a nervous exhale.

He was being stupid. He did this for a living. For over ten years, he’d been the center of attention. He’d played bigger shows to sold out arenas before. This was literally nothing compared to the other things he’d had to go through in the past. He was psyching himself out for no reason at all.

But then, another kiss pressed to his forehead and he was hyperventilating against his will. He was such an idiot. Too stupid. He didn’t have the time for something like this. In less than fifty minutes, he’d have to be out on that stage, putting on a show.

A four and a half hour long show.

“Babe?”

He could hear it. It was too faint for him to truly understand, but he could make out the consonant and vowels as they hit his eardrums. He could hardly feel the arms that were wrapped around him tight leave their place, but he really couldn’t ignore it when large hands were cupping his face and forcing him to look straight ahead. Even with his vision blurred and his brain on the verge of delirium, he could still see a few dark, fuzzy blobs.

“Babe, look at me. Can you hear me, Al? Deep breaths. Breathe with me, baby. Ready? Breathe in… one, two three… breathe out… one, two, three… in… one, two, three… out… one, two, three… That’s it, babe. You’re doing great. Come on, keep breathing. One, two three… one, two, three… there you go. It’s okay. Don’t stop counting, okay? Let’s go sit somewhere else, yeah? Do you need anything?”

Alex shook his head. All he needed was to remember what number he was on and if he was supposed to be breathing in or out… and maybe he needed Jack to hold his hand, too, but that was a given. That was always a given.

There was a moment’s hesitation on Jack’s end as he stepped away. He let go of Alex’s face and reached down slowly to link their fingers together before he was taking another step back and watching. Sometimes the elder had trouble staying upright and moving anywhere when he had a panic attack, and he could never be sure when Alex would fall. It was always better to be safe than sorry.

The first few steps were a little wobbly, admittedly, like a baby deer attempting to walk for the first time, but with each foot they got closer to the door, the easier it was to move. Jack only took his eyes off of his boyfriend’s blank face a few times every handful of seconds to make sure that he didn’t crash into anyone or anything, and by the time they’d finally made it to an empty vantage point outside of the building, there was no more than forty minutes until show time.

A quick glance was taken to make sure that they were alone from curious eyes before Jack was helping Alex sit on the ground by the door. He tried to sit next to his boyfriend once Alex had made himself comfortable, but then he was being maneuvered around to sit behind the elder. Once Jack was pressed as closely against Alex’s back as possible, with his legs bracketing the other’s and his arms wrapped securely around a thin waist, Alex was finally letting out an even breath.

Jack wanted to let his boyfriend speak up of his own accord whenever he was ready to, but he knew that they were quickly running out of whatever time they had left. With a kiss to a smooth neck, he was asking, “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“I don’t wanna go out there.” That was all he had to say. Still, Jack persisted.

“Why not? You were so excited before,” he prompted. The curious tone that tinted his words was only partially to convince Alex to speak. He really didn’t understand what had changed.

For a few minutes, Alex didn’t speak again. The tips of his fingers drummed against Jack’s forearms, where they were resting against his stomach, and he momentarily curled forward into the touch before he leaned back and sighed.

“I’m just… nervous,” he admit.

“Why’s that?”

“Cause I’m gonna mess up.” He didn’t mean to talk so softly, in a voice no louder than a whisper, but he really couldn’t help it. Was he supposed to be his usual, loud self when he was still on the edges of a panic attack?

“You’re gonna mess up?” A hum. “Well, what’s gonna happen? How are you so sure?”

“I don’t know… I just know something’s gonna happen. I’m gonna mess up. I don’t feel good, and I don’t wanna go out there anymore,” Alex explained. His eyes watched a few ducks as they splashed around in the lake next to the venue, and he found that, too, helped put him at ease. If only he was as carefree as they were...

“Hey, listen to me. You listening?” Jack demanded as his fingers rubbed soothing circles in Alex’s sides over his shirt. When he got a nod, he was moving his arms so that he could turn Alex to look at him. With the elder sat in his lap, he smiled. “You know you’re not gonna mess up, right? You look gorgeous, and I know you’re going to sound perfect, and you’re gonna be a natural up there. We’ve been practicing all week. I think you could do it in your sleep at this point. You’re gonna kick so much ass that Mark’s gonna be jealous that he couldn’t do as good as you. And you’re not gonna be alone. I’ll be right there next to you the entire time. If you need to get off the stage or can’t get back on or something, you don’t need to worry, alright? I’ll handle it all. Okay? Don’t worry, baby. It’ll be over before you even know it.”

Alex didn’t seem very convinced at all. His eyebrows scrunched on his forehead and he diverted his gaze to his shirt, searching for something wrong with the cotton. There had to be something wrong with his appearance, and he was going to find it before he made a fool of himself in front of everyone, damn it.

“Al… babe, look at me,” Jack said. If it wasn’t for the hand that tilted his chin back up, he wouldn’t have looked at all. “I’m gonna take care of you. There’s nothing for you to get so worked up about. I promise. Is there something I can do to help you relax out there?”

Alex shook his head immediately. If they were to touch, it would probably become more obvious than before that there was something more than friends going on between them. There would be enough attention on him as it was. He really didn’t need to add in anymore.

“Only want kisses,” he mumbled when Jack sighed. “I wanna hold your hand, too, and I can’t. I can’t do anything or people would know.”

“That’s never stopped us onstage before, y’know,” the younger man commented in response. It was true, but it was… it was just different. There weren’t as many people before, and they’d learned to dull it down in front of a crowd. Sometimes they’d go entire shows with only a rare touch here and there. If they were to do something extreme onstage, like kiss every time Alex started to get a bit too shaky, they’d be outing themselves to the entire world.

Alex shook his head. With a sigh, he leaned forward to let their foreheads press against one another’s. His arms snaked around Jack’s neck, and he breathed in his boyfriend’s scent to help steady his rising nerves. He was going to be okay. He was a big boy, and he was used to this happening, and it’s not like he could even see or hear the people who were at home, watching from their televisions. It may as well have been like they weren’t even real, right? He’d be fine.

Only, then Jack was getting an idea.

“What if I was to kiss you, and you pretended that you didn’t expect it or like it or something?” he whispered, like it was a secret that had to be kept from the world. “We could play if off like our usual jokes, and no one would know the truth except for the people who already do know about us. But, in the fashion of making things interesting, we’ll base it on if something does or doesn’t happen.”

At that, Alex’s curiosity was piqued. He liked kissing Jack, and he liked making things interesting.

“If you can make it through the night without any problems, and if we all win the awards that we’re nominated for, I'll kiss you in front of everyone. How’s that sound?”

The elder looked a little confused for a moment before he finally said, words slow and calculated, “Are you trying to bribe me into not fucking up? That’s… not how it works at all… I mean, if it was up to me, you know I wouldn’t chose to fuck anything up, but offering a kiss doesn’t really help at all…”

Jack shook his head. “Don’t look at it as a bribe,” he dismissed. “I already know that you’re going to be the greatest host of all time. Just because you don’t believe it doesn’t mean it’s not true. Look at it as being more closely related to… motivation. Or maybe calling it a distraction would help. You’ll be so focused on when I’m going to do it that you won’t even have time to make yourself sick. Does that sound like a pretty good deal or what?”

It didn’t sound terrible, Alex would admit, but there was the whole problem of—“Well, what if we don’t all win? And what if I do screw up? I’ll know not to expect it anymore after that. What would be the point? The last award we’re all up for is still being presented, like, an hour and a half before the end. What if something happens and you end up being wrong?”

“Okay, right,” Jack said with a hum. Why did Alex have to bring up that possibility? “But, see, maybe I’ll just kiss you anyway, just because I want to. Did you ever think of that?”

“Well, then it would be going against—”

“Look, I’m gonna kiss you in front of everyone at some point tonight, alright? You’re not gonna be expecting it, and it’ll probably have to be a really bad kiss so people don’t suspect anything, but whether or not we win, I’m going to kiss you. Understand me?” Jack said. He sounded serious for all of about three words before he started to break off into a chuckling fit. Honestly, Alex should’ve figured it would play out like that. Why would Jack ever miss an opportunity to kiss him? Especially in front of other people?

“But what if—”

“Babe, I promise that nothing bad will happen to you. Not tonight, and not any night after. As long as you’re with me, I’ll be there to make sure that everything works out. Please just try and not worry tonight. It’d be no fun if we had to miss the after party in favor of going to the hospital or something, would it?” Jack joked. Alex pulled away from where they were still leaning against each other to glare at his boyfriend, but it didn’t last any more than a few seconds before he was cracking a smile and nodding his head.

“Promise you’ll be there the whole time?” he questioned. He knew it was kind of pointless to ask, but he still liked being reassured.

The younger man grinned right on back before ducking in for a quick peck of the lips. “Where else am I gonna go? I’m just as much a host as you are. Are you feeling better now? Think we could head back inside to finish getting ready? We probably go on in less than twenty at this point. They’ll probably wanna smear even more makeup on us than they already have, too.”

“I guess I don’t really have a choice at this point, huh?” Alex said as he pushed himself to his feet and reached down to pull Jack up. The younger shook his head.

“If you really don’t wanna go out there, I’ll help you fake an illness or something, but I promise that you’re not going to regret tonight at all. Just give it a shot, okay? If it becomes too much or something, I’ll make sure someone else takes over for you. It wouldn’t be the end of the world or anything. Now, come on. Enough worrying, alright? You’re gonna be in a grave by this time tomorrow if you don’t put a little faith in me.”

Their hands were linked together before Alex could even come up with some smart response, and he was soon being tugged back into the building behind his partner. He was still scared about something going wrong, but he knew that with Jack there by his side the entire time, he’d make it out alive.

What were the odds of anything going wrong, anyway? He was just being stupid.



An hour later and Alex’s fears had pretty much come to life once more. It wasn’t his fault, really, and the logical side of him knew as much, but… well… who thinks logically when they’re on the verge of having a second panic attack in under two hours? Who thinks logically on the verge of a panic attack at all?

It had started out so well. They’d gone on stage (after taking a few moments too long, which was planned just to be dramatic), and he hadn’t messed up but Rian had, and, okay, did it make him a bad friend to feel relieved about that? so that was clearly a huge plus. It was just another show.

They’d gone backstage for a few moments, for a ‘commercial break,’ and when he and Jack had come back out (being carried by Rian and Zack the whole way), they’d jumped into their planned spiel. All had been going well. Really well. Perfect, even. Alex was still feeling pumped about their performance, and he was feeling sillier than before about how he’d freaked out. This was just another show.

But then, nearly five minutes into their opening, they’d had to get off stage because there was something wrong with the sound system. The people in the venue could hear them just fine, of course, but the people at home could maybe hear the tinny echoes that bounced off of the walls of the arena.

The worst part probably wasn’t even the fact that it had happened. No, the worst part was the fact that, after the cameras had cut away, he’d had to explain to the audience that was still in front of him why they had to leave the stage and what was happening. There was no script for him to following along with. He could only offer a shaky laugh and hope that it’d be over soon.

It was all his fault, clearly. Who else could it have been? The sound guys knew what they were doing, so it wasn’t like they could’ve done something wrong. He was so stupid to think that he’d be able to get through such a big night without there being a single hitch.

Jack had done his best to calm him down backstage, offering gentle kisses and sweet words of encouragement, and by the time everything was back up and in running order, he was ready to give it another go. A few shots of tequila might’ve helped his nerves, too, but he’d like to think that it was all thanks to his boyfriend.

Because Jack had said to trust him, and Alex did trust him, and what more could go wrong if he trusted the younger man? Everything would be okay.

And it was. It was all so much significantly better than he’d expected it to be before he’d even first set foot onto the stage. As the night wore on, the alcohol he’d nipped after the sound issues set further and further into his veins. It relaxed him to the point where his fear became his adrenalin. He could’ve talked and joked all night had the world been willing to let him.

Zack won his award, Rian won his award, and everyone was clearly having a pretty damn good time. Even if someone happened to lose, they were still spending the evening drinking with some of their closest friends. That was more important, wasn’t it?

To one Trace Cyrus, it wasn’t. His ‘speech’ was enough to have Alex rolling his eyes. Really? Was it necessary? Did it accomplish anything other than make himself look like the biggest douche bag in the world?

When he’d walked backstage after his pointless rant finally came to an end, Jack had to make sure that Zack and Rian both stood by so that nothing happened to Alex. He’d like to think he’d be good in a fight, but… he probably really wouldn’t be. At all. Not even against someone like Trace.

He’d expected Alex to revert back to his prior ways of anxious panic after the fact. He was a host and he was supposed to be making sure that everyone was happy, right? Had he not done his job well enough? Were other people going to be angry with him, too? What was he supposed to say?

But… surprisingly… he was more so the complete opposite of anxious and panicky. If anything, he became passive aggressive and confident. His jokes fell from his lips easier, his smiles seemed a little wider, and his laughs were a lot less shaky. It was only when they were backstage that Jack could see that, underneath it all, Alex’s tipsy self was still incredibly pissed off about what had happened. He had every right to be, of course (at least, in Jack’s opinion he did, but he may have also been a little biased), but it was too the point where he would scowl at a wall while muttering under his breath about virtually nothing.

No matter what Jack tried to do to help, he just couldn’t keep up. He could handle an Alex on the verge of a mental breakdown, but an Alex who couldn’t see anything but the color red was something he really wasn’t familiar with at all. Nothing worked. Hugs, kisses, small talk about what he thought of all the bands who’d performed. Nothing was taking Alex’s mind off of the things he’d been told.

At the three hour mark, where there was just one more hour that they had to get through before they could leave, All Time Low was called onto the stage for winning an award for having the ‘most dedicated fandom.’ Alex loosened up immediately as he made his way back onto the stage with his boyfriend and best friends by his side.

His speech was shaky and not put together at all, but it definitely got the message across clear enough—they were all thankful for their fans and everything each of them had ever done to get All Time Low where it is. It wasn’t much, but it was heartfelt and was, at the same time, more than enough.

When they were backstage after the fact, Alex had jumped into Jack’s arms and kissed him through a megawatt grin. A very unmanly giggle slipped through his lips as his boyfriend spun him in a circle. With only enough time for another short kiss, they had to grab their mics and head back out onto the stage to finish out the last little bit of the show.

It was then that Jack remembered their bet.

The teleprompters in the floor were scrolling through the predetermined script idly before they came to a stop when the person controlling them realized that Jack was no longer following what had been agreed upon weeks in advance. What did a kiss cam have to do with any of the jokes about All Time Low that the two had come up with? No one had said no to a kiss cam because no one had been asked about it in the—

Alex felt his insides flutter disgustingly at what happened next. He tried to hide his smile as Jack pressed a kiss to his cheek and then his lips since he had to make it look like he didn’t want it. A grin and chuckle would have to suffice. Jack would understand it just as much as their friends would. All of the girls in the audience shrieked; they could only ever hope to know.

“I hated that,” was the first thing to come from his mouth when Jack finally let him go. “I hated every second of that.”

“That was love,” Jack corrected. Alex could only shake his head.

The last forty minutes of the show moved on much more quickly. They were onstage less, thanks to the older bands playing more songs than the others had, and that meant more kisses were exchanged between the pair.

“I meant what I said, y’know,” Alex said just two minutes before they were set to be onstage for the last time of the night. “I really did hate that kiss. Wasn’t your best by any means.”

Jack shrugged. “I guess I’ll just have to try again the next time we host something then, huh?” he teased.

“Yeah. You may as well just make out with me in front of everyone next time or something. Wanna give ‘em a real show, one they’ll never forget, right?” Alex said as he playfully shoved his partner back a step.

Jack simpered as he straightened his shirt and prepared to head out into the lights one last time. If Alex insisted, he was sure he could pump up the ante, especially if it meant he’d be willing to host another show together. Even though the night had been a disaster from the very beginning, he was sure that he wouldn’t mind a repeat any time soon.