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It was quiet; the earpiece blocked out all the noise. The lights were still flashing and sputtering as he walked off the stage. Covered in sweat and exhausted he ripped out his earpiece, still hearing the mono drum track playing in the background. The live ones were considerably louder. A crew member took the earpiece from him and handed him a small towel. He collapsed onto a nearby couch still catching his breath from the show. He usually doesn't leave the stage until the ending track is finished but tonight was different. He couldn't stand it any longer.
He waited. The rest of the band eventually passed through saying their "HI's" and "byes". They all went their separate ways that night, some to party, to drink and some to sleep. Trent still waited, his heart was pounding in his chest, and the feeling of anxiety began to set in. A crew member came over to check on him, seeing he was still there. But he was fine, just waiting. Eventually, everyone began to disperse, even the crew. Trent made his way to his changing room, he was done for the night.
He flipped on the switch subconsciously hoping he would be here. But he was easily disappointed. Most of the sweat had dried stickily to his skin, and the leather was becoming uncomfortable. Unlike tours before, they've made it big, their dressing rooms have showers, couches, and vanities. A shower and some sleep sounded like the right thing for him tonight.
It was hot, steaming actually. The harsh droplets scattered his body it was nice until it wasn't. The anxiety was creeping in again, his heart was heavy and it was hard to breathe, he couldn't stand the thought of the interaction. Confessing? It seemed so stupid. but he couldn't let go of it, he's tried to before, to forget it, to ignore it, and even distance himself but it always came back. His eyes began well up and water. A hot tear trickled down his face, quickly washed away by the water.
He was tired, he wanted a drink and to sleep, thinking about it felt like the worst thing possible, so there was no reason to stay up. He got dressed in more comfortable attire. Heading to the bus to sleep felt like the best thing to do, but the thought of trying to sleep in the busy right now killed him. Undecidedly he sat on the couch, it was getting late, and he looked at the ticking wall clock, 11:30.
The venue was mostly quiet now, he closed his eyes, head resting on the back of the couch. The sound of the clock reminded him of his childhood. Listening to it in the morning while others were still asleep. It was soothing, the organic sound of time. He began to drift, his thoughts passing through his mind, not stopping them, just listening. Some were sad, some were funny, most of them being about Brian.
He said he would be here, right after the show, waiting backstage. He was probably busy with some roadies. His initial idea seemed muddled and shadowed in these thoughts, lost to the harsh reality.
It was a knock. It was light, but it was still a knock. Ah, they are kicking me out for the night, he thought. The crew is probably coming for his suitcases, and the venue has to clean, they host shows nightly.
"Just leaving," he said. Taking a deep breath before forcing himself off the couch.
"Trent?"
That voice, his heart sank. He froze right before opening the door. His heart was pounding in his chest, the anxiety was coming back. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.
"I heard you in there already." there was no response, he was making too much of a deal out of it, ruining it for himself by not responding. He took a deep breath and opened the door.
"I was just leaving," he said only glancing at the other for a moment before turning away to collect his things. He could feel the others' gaze on him. he left most of his clothes, knowing the crew would deal with it. He grabbed his notebook from the couch and stuffed it in his backpack.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Heading back to the bus," he replied still looking away. Trent zipped up his bag and grabbed it heading towards the door.
"Already?" Brian stood there leaning against the doorframe. The sight of him so casual would have made Trent smile, but at this moment it was the worst thing possible.
"Said you wanted to talk." Trent only looked at him, the ticks of the clock rang in his mind. They reminded him of all the time he's wasted, all the time spent thinking about this moment and how it was supposed to be perfect.
"Yeah." Trent took a deep breath and went to sit back on the couch he set his bag next to him. He felt trapped in a way, his body forcing him to stay, his mind telling him to go. fuck. His elbows rested on his knees, his mind conflicted.
"Well, what's going on?" Brian paused for a moment, looking at the other. His back was faced towards him, his head hung down. Trent stayed quiet. "You know I had to go looking for you, right?" he laughed a bit. "no one knew where you were."
It was silent for a moment. He was just trying to make conversation.
"it couldn't have been that hard, Brian," Trent replied
"Well, you usually come to me."
Well, what if I wanted you to find me for once? What if I wanted to be alone with you? These comebacks ran through Trent's head, not daring to say them. His heart still pounded but slowly subsided in the presence of the other.
"I was tired," he said quietly, not a total lie but it didn't make sense.
He went to sit on the couch. There wasn't much distance between them. He sat at the opposite side with his legs crossed. He waited, he wasn't entirely sure what for what, but he waited nevertheless.
"I wanted to tell you something." Trent eventually said, looking over at the other, he was so simply beautiful. His long hair looked so soft, that he could feel himself running his hands through it. He cringed at the thought after, realizing he'd witnessed multiple girls do the same before.
"Hopefully you're not kicking me off the label" He joked. Trent's serious demeanor worried him but he didn't let it show. He waited for a response.
Trent was still looking at him, his face, his features, almost in a sad way, that you would only notice if you looked too long which Brian did.
"wait, no, you're kicking me off the label??" he remarked concerningly not understanding Trent's silence.
"huh," Trent looked at him confused "No, I'm not kicking you off the label, why would you think that??" He thought for a moment realizing it was his silence that caused it. His heart sped up again, he could feel each pulse through his body. He looked at the other who still seemed somewhat confused with the whole situation. He smiled a bit.
"I like you, brian." He couldn't believe it. He finally said it. It felt good for a moment until all the possible consequences of his previous statement filled his mind. He quickly turned to look the other way.
He didn't want to see the expression on Brian's face. He didn't want to deal with the embarrassment of it, the pain of rejection. He felt desperate for an escape, he wanted to grab his bag and run, forget this ever happened but he didn't. He waited. He waited for a response, for a string of hope, for anything.
He heard the other move off of the couch, but he didn't look. He must be leaving. He knew he fucked up. Fucking Christ. His breathing grew shallow as he listened. The pulse of his heart pounded through his body. His mind was anything but at ease. Footsteps.
"I-...I'm sorry," he shuddered still looking away. He wanted Brian to hear those words before he left. His face was heating up, it was becoming hard to breathe.
"Trent." He was standing in front of him, looking at him, judging him.
He couldn't, he didn't want to hear what he had to say. His heart couldn't take it. So he continued to look away. Brian's gaze burnt him alive, but he didn't look. He tried to speak again, but his mouth drew blank the first few times.
"I-... I didn't mean it like that."
"Look at me," he said still waiting. "Please."
Tears began to well up in his eyes, fuck, it was hard to breathe. He couldn't take it. Why, why did he want to see him like this, so vulnerable, so open? To make fun, to joke? But he did. He looked up at the other, who had no judgment on his face, no hate.
He smiled, looking down at the Trent. He reached out, running his hand through Trent's hair. It was soft, he twirled the tip of it around his finger. Still looking down at the other's big sappy eyes. fuck he looked cute.
He felt lost, he didn't know what to do or say. Was Brian fucking with him? he was at a loss for words.
"You should have just kissed me then."
He climbed atop Trent, his knees on either side of him, straddling him. Trent tried to speak but he was quickly cut off. Brian went in for a kiss. His hand was still fondling his hair, his other on Trent's neck.
Trent was still stunted, did Brian just kiss him? His piercing was cold against Trent's lips, It was better than he could have ever imagined. Trent melted into the warmth of the other, returning the favor- he couldn't resist it, even if it was the joke of the year. His hand gently caressed Trent's neck, making it ever more real.
Brian broke the kiss, allowing the latter to catch up. He smiled lightly, enjoying his personal view. he waited for the other to respond.
"I've waited so long for this," Trent whispered under his breath. The painfully loud beating in his heart began to subside, it was still there but less. And as the seconds passed the less prominent it grew.
"Thank you," Trent whispered reaching his arms over Brian's shoulders, before kissing him again.