everything that happens in this is kiers fault
The 1975 had been struggling to get gigs for the last few months. It wasn't normally particularly tricky - all they had to do, really, was sign up for an open mic night if they couldn't find anything else, but there was nothing new around for them to do anymore. Matty felt like the locals were getting bored of them, and he knew that they had to expand, find new places to play.
He also knew that they weren't going to manage that very easily without a record deal and a full-length album.
Jamie Oborne had first seen The 1975 play in a pub a few months ago. He had been intrigued - not particularly by the music, but more so by their singer. He had failed to find out the curly-haired man's name, and so hadn't managed to find them on any social media. It was only when he saw them again at some shitty club night that he had any contact with the man.
After they'd played their short set, sweating from the heat of all the people and the too-intense lights, all four men had quickly made their way to the bar, ordering a round of drinks before they headed home. Jamie spotted them almost immediately as he slurped at his drink, and speedily shuffled through the small crowd around the bar to speak to Matty.
"Alright, love?"
Matty looked up at the older man, brushing his hair over his shoulder before grinning sheepishly. "Hey." He paused for a moment, taking in his features. "Wait - don't you have a record label?"
"Yeah, that's not what I'm here for, though." Jamie placed a hand on Matty's shoulder, rubbing it slightly when he noticed Matty's crestfallen expression. "What's your name, angel?"
"Matty." He sighed, downing his beverage and tucking a curl behind his ear.
"Well, Matty, I'm Jamie, and I'm buying you a drink."
Matty heard the familiar sound of George wolf-whistling over the throng of the bar, knowing that Jamie wouldn't know who it had been or who it was directed at, but blushing at George's obvious thoughts all the same. "Thank you."
Jamie smirked at the younger man, sliding his arm fully over his shoulders as he leaned forward to make eye contact with the bartender. "Another of those, please. I'm paying." He slid a fiver across the table as the bartender went about preparing Matty's drink and handing it to the short man.
"Thanks."
"Not at all. Anything for a pretty face like yours."
Anything? Matty sipped at his new drink, letting Jamie sit next to him and gently place his hand on the middle of Matty's thigh, not moving it up at all, just letting it sit there as he traced patterns through his tight jeans. Matty tilting his head to the side. "What are you doing?"
"I'm dirty hitting on you, love."
The chatted idly for a few minutes as Matty finished the drink before Jamie spoke again.
"Fancy coming back to mine for a bit? Maybe stay the night?"
Matty cocked an eyebrow, having known that, realistically, this was where their conversation had been going from the start. He looked over at George, a few seats down the bar, making eye contact and knowing full well that the tall boy would have been listening. He was a little over protective of Matty, which was odd, but Matty found it strangely comforting knowing that George cared so much for his safety. When George nodded, having thought about it and realising that since Jamie was quite well-known, he was probably safe, Matty repeated the action at Jamie.
The older man slid his hand into Matty's, the younger boy's fingers slotting between his own to curl over the back of his hand. "You've not drunk too much, have you?" Jamie questioned Matty gently, not wanting to deal with any lawsuits based off not being able to give consent while drunk.
