Again, all character drawings by me. Thanks for reading!
_____
Three weeks later
Baby huffed, trying to keep his guitar and amp from touching the ground as he made his way to the bus stop. Stupid Oliver, having to eat dinner with his family. In the past couple weeks, Baby had gotten used to depending on Oliver for rides.
Oliver. Baby smiled just thinking about him.
The last boyfriend he had, Joan Peters, had been almost thirty years old. Baby had been fifteen. Joan had promised to take care of him, and fifteen year old Baby hadn't known that 'take care' meant fuck relentlessly then occasionally take out on a date to drink beer at Golden Corral. Baby shivered at the memory of getting pushed up against a dirty bedroom wall, trying not to cry as Joan grunted above him. He'd thought that was what sex was, back then. He'd thought that was what sex was for years. And then his dad went to prison, he moved into the system, and he learned that he was Not Normal.
Not normal. Screw 'em.
Baby sighed, hitching his guitar higher onto his back as he watched the bus approach.
Oliver was normal. Oliver was the perfect kind of normal, the sweet kind that talked with a bite of sarcasm and asked before he kissed. The kind that could quote Shakespeare but couldn't do his own laundry. The kind that wanted to be Baby's boyfriend simply because he thought Baby was beautiful, inside and out.
He'd never had someone like that before.
Baby smiled to himself, pulling out his phone. He was on the bus, heading downtown in the light of the streetlamps. He coughed, rather loudly, and checked to make sure no one on the bus was looking at him. Luckily it wasn't too populated. He coughed again, feeling the twinge deep in his chest. Shaking himself out of it, he focused down on the phone.
me: omw. need help carrying stuff in
red: i'll be outside
Then, Baby opened a much more interesting conversation.
me: omw downtown. when r u coming
Oliver replied almost immediately.
idiot: finishing up here, the parentals are driving me NUTS
me: at least they're not trying to murder you
idiot: they don't know i'm gay lmao watch that change in a flash
Baby bit his lip at his phone. He didn't like when Oliver talked about his parents, he always felt out of his depth and awkward. Like he couldn't offer the right advice. He couldn't remember if he'd ever eaten dinner with his parents, even as a child. So offering advice on how to deal with parents that you were too close to was out of Baby's realm of expertise. His only advice would be to run away and couch hop. But that hadn't worked out too well for him.
me: oliverrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
idiot: what
me: i wrote a song for you
idiot: wait
idiot: wait WHAT
idiot: tonight????
idiot: you're playing it tonight????????????????????
Baby giggled, tucking his feet up under him on the seat.
me: yuP
me: but you actually gotta ditch your family and come SEE ME to hear it, dummy
idiot: ok ok ok i am COMING keep your pants on
me: there's a lot i could say about that statement but i'll allow you to keep your dignity
idiot: shut up
me: ok i'm here gtg. see you soon xx
idiot: xxx
idiot: have me out here looking like a sappy idiot
Baby grinned, punching a few things into his phone.
me: if only you could see things from my end
Sappy Idiot: what is that supposed to mean?!?!???
Baby laughed out loud, shoving his phone into his pocket. He tugged his amp down the aisle, thanking the bus driver as he exited. Red was already waiting on the curb outside the Peacock Room.
"Took you long enough," he said. "Laura wants us on early today, apparently the opener didn't show up."
Baby glared good naturedly. "Maybe if someone would've come to pick me up I could've gotten here earlier."
Red rolled his eyes. "You know my car's too tiny."
"Fine, fine. Help me with this stuff."
Red grabbed the amp from Baby, thank god. They got all the stuff into the back room where Grace was already waiting.
"Baby waby," Grace greeted him in a sing song voice, like she always did. And like he always did, Baby rolled his eyes. "Are we playing that new song tonight?"
"Hell yeah," Baby said.
He started getting his guitar out, carefully unzipping it from its case. It was like his child. He'd spent years saving up for it, and boy was it worth it. The guitar was beautiful. White with a mahogany neck and accents, it looked like a rock and roll guitar, which was exactly what Baby wanted. There was just something classic about it, and Baby could so do classic. He like blending genres, crossing boundaries, putting music with music and more music, no matter what the type. He just loved it. A song was like poetry that moved.
"It's pretty lovey dovey for you," Grace pointed out, referencing their newest song. "That boyfriend of yours is really making you less of a hardass."
"I know several people who would not consider that being a bad thing," Baby quipped back.
"As long as you promise not to start sounding like Ed Sheeran when you play," Red intoned from across the room.
Grace laughed, and Baby grinned sarcastically.
"I'm hurt you think that a boyfriend will make me rock any less."
"Speaking of rocking," Grace jabbed a thumb towards the stage door. "We gotta get out there. Who are we tonight?"
"I liked The Preschool Papercuts," Red said immediately. "That was a good show we did."
Baby made a face. "That was the bar I got beer thrown up on me. Ew."
"Okay so not The Preschool Papercuts," Grace said. "What about The Slug Saps?"
"I'm going to end up saying Slug Slaps and you know it," Baby told her.
"Well then what if we were just The Slug Slaps?" Red asked.
"No!" both Baby and Grace chorused.
"Fine," Red held up his hands. "What about... The Slug Sluts?"
"Is this a jab at Baby's new promiscuity?" Grace asked.
"New promiscuity?" Baby gasped incredulously. "I have a full time boyfriend. More like a laps of promiscuity if you ask me."
"Fair enough," Grace shrugged. "Still, I like it."
"The Slug Sluts?"
"Yeah, sounds edgy. Like we're going to play some hardcore mixed with electronica."
"Okay," Baby said. "The Slug Sluts it is."
"Let's get out there."
"Third set?"
"Third set."
Baby desperately hoped Oliver was here.
The three of them trooped on stage, tugging their amps. Looking out into the small crowd, Baby couldn't see individual faces. The bar seemed about halfway full. Which was appropriate for such an early start to the night. Baby took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. No matter how many times he did it, there was always that twinge of fear right before he played.
Oliver are you out there?
After everything was plugged in, Baby tested out his guitar by ripping a G chord. It sounded good, albeit a little quiet, so he made a motion to the sound guy in the back to turn it up. A couple people in the crowd whooped. He fussed with the pedal a little, straightening it out and then tilting it again. Breathe in, breathe out. He turned around to face the rest of his band.
"You guys ready?"
Grace nodded from behind her drumkit, clicking her sticks together. Red strummed his bass in agreement. The crowd buzzed at the noise. Baby turned back around, ready to go up to the mic. All of a sudden, in the front row, Baby spotted him. Relief flooded his body like cold water. Oliver smiled up at him, dark eyes and dark skin soft in the smokey atmosphere of the bar.
You're late, Baby mouthed to him.
Oliver stuck his tongue out, a favorite move of Baby's. Baby grinned. He stepped up to the microphone, feeling a new sense of vigor in his bones. He was ready to rock.
He tapped the microphone, sending feedback through the amps. God, he loved that sound. He leaned forward so he was practically eating the mesh, already feeling the future music thrumming in his chest.
"Hello Jersey City!" he yelled, and he got several hollers in return. "We're the Slug Sluts, and you're about to get your fucking socks rocked off!"
With that, they launched into their first song.
By the time they were halfway through their set, the bar had filled up. People were on and off moshing in the front, and every single cheer was like a drug that went straight to Baby's head. He was headbanging with every word, ignoring the way his chest burned the harder he sang.
"Alright!" he shouted into the microphone. "You guys are fucking great, thank you all so much."
The crowd cheered, and Baby grinned.
"This next one is a new original," he said. "Take it the fuck away Grace."
Grace counted them off with four beats of her sticks, and they started playing with renewed vigor. Baby made eye contact with Oliver in the front row. He was looking at him like Baby was his entire world, and it made Baby's heart clench. He didn't deserve that pure, pure boy. He stepped up to the mic, and poured his heart out.
"I'd call you baby but that's already me," he sang. "This is only a love song if you'd like it to be."
Oliver's eyes shone. Baby winked. Then he brought his hand down, smashed his foot on the pedal, and the song sped up. Baby tossed his head with each raw guitar chord, hair hitting the back of his neck.
"You tie me to infinity
And wrap stars around my neck like a noose of diamonds and impossible dreams
In the moments where we don't fit
Pegs and pegs and pegs shoved into suns
I am afraid
Terrified of loving someone that isn't you."
*
"Baby you were amaaaaaaaaazing," Oliver slurred as soon as Baby got offstage.
Baby raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend, who was currently using the wall to stand.
"Are you drunk?"
Oliver made a pssh sound, but then nodded once he saw the look in Baby's eyes.
"Maybe a little."
Baby just laughed, only fueled by Oliver's pout.
"Hey," he whined. "S'not my fault, you were up there so long."
"We had to do two sets, the opening band bailed," Baby said, and then questioned why. There's no way Oliver would even remember that he'd said it.
"Did you like the show?" he asked, using a teasing voice.
Oliver nodded vigorously, eyes wide, causing Baby to laugh again.
"You're so good Baby," Oliver said. "So good Baby. Hey... you ever... think it's weird your name is Baby?"
"Good weird or bad weird?"
"Good weird," Oliver said immediately.
Baby couldn't resist tilting up on his toes to kiss the tip of Oliver's nose. Oliver went cross eyed trying to watch him do it.
"You just kissed me!"
Baby grinned, then leaned forward to give him a proper smack on the lips. Oliver looked positively delighted.
"You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen."
"You've mentioned that before, idiot," Baby said fondly.
"I mean it."
"Alright, give me your phone you big baby."
Oliver giggled as he stumbled, trying to fish in his pocket for his cell phone.
"You called me baby."
"I called you a big baby, there's a rather sizable difference," Baby smiled.
Oliver finally got his phone out and handed it over.
"What's your passcode?"
Oliver looked like he had to think about that for a moment. "All zeroes," he finally said.
Baby shook his head with a click of his tongue. "Generic English major."
Oliver frowned petulantly and Baby grinned to himself. Pushing Oliver's buttons was one of his favorite things in the world.
"Whatcha doing on my phone?"
"I'm calling your friend to come get you. Emmett, right?"
"You're gonna meet Emmett!"
Baby took that as a yes, and pressed the dial button. It rang a couple times, almost drowned out by the talking in the Bar.
"Ollie?" a voice on the other end of the line asked that was most definitely not Emmett.
Baby blinked. "Hey, um, this is Baby? Is Emmett there?"
There was a sudden scuffling, then a rather long screech away from the speaker.
"Oh my god!" the same female voice said from before. "Hi! Baby! Oh my god. I'm Francesca!"
Wow. Baby blinked again, feeling himself teeter on the verge of a laugh. Or maybe a cough. He couldn't quite tell.
"Well, hi Francesca. Is Emmett with you?"
Francesca squealed again. "Yes, he is! Why do you ask? Is Oliver okay?"
Baby looked over at Oliver, who had slumped against the wall, eyes half closed. He was mumbling words underneath his breath, fingers tapping nonsense beats onto his thighs.
"Um," Baby started. "He is very drunk. I can't drive so I can't take him home. Is there any way you and Emmett could come take him and his car home?"
"Ah!" Francesca screamed and Baby nearly dropped Oliver's phone. "Emmett! We're going to go meet Baby!"
Baby heard a small what? in the background, then Francesca was back on the phone.
"Where are you guys?"
"The Peacock Room, downtown."
"Done and done! We'll be there in fifteen," Francesca said.
"Thank you guys so much."
"Don't worry about it, Oliver is the sloppiest drunk you've ever seen. Take good care of him for us!"
"I always do," Baby said.
Francesca squealed again before hanging up.
"You've got some wild friends," Baby told Oliver, who barely even acknowledged his presence.
It took practically fifteen minutes to heard Oliver through the crowds and to the front of the bar. Everyone kept stopping them to ask Baby about the band, whether they had an album out, if they were on tour. The answer was always no, no, and please get out of my way.
"The Slug Sluts rule!" one person yelled at him, and Baby had to check himself before he said, "who?"
Finally, they made it to the entrance. It felt good to step out into the chill of the night. The sweat on Baby's back and underneath his hair started to freeze, and he sighed with relief. Oliver suddenly slumped against his back.
"Ugh," he mumbled.
"Ugh yourself," Baby said. "How are you feeling?"
"Drunk," Oliver groaned.
Baby laughed, peeling Oliver from his back and attempting to spin him around. It was difficult because Oliver was almost twice his size, but he eventually managed it. And by that time, what looked to be Emmett and Francesca were pulling up to the curb.
He knew this because a tall Latina woman was literally leaning halfway out the passenger side window of a large pickup truck.
"Hi!" she shouted.
They both leaped out of the car, and Baby tried to free his right hand from holding Oliver up so he could shake their hands. Emmett, a tall blonde man with a calm expression, shook it like a normal human being. Francesca, on the other hand, practically ripped Baby's arm off.
"Oh my god hello!" she said. "I saw you when you were The Snogging Eskimos in Bree, and when you were Worm Snore out at the Keisher! You're incredible!"
Baby blushed, like he always did when he got compliments, and nodded at her. "Thank you."
"And now you're dating Oliver?! Our Oliver? Dorky as hell and boring Oliver?"
"The very same," Baby said, already feeling a soft spot growing for her.
"It's just crazy," she finished with a huge smile. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"It's nice to meet you too."
Right then, Oliver decided it was a good idea to pass out, apparently. He fell forward onto Baby's back, completely knocking the wind out of him. Baby oofed out loud, and Emmett immediately rushed forward to help.
"Jesus Oliver," Emmett said. "What a lightweight."
"He must've been knocking them back," Francesca said. "You guys have been here what, three hours?"
Baby nodded without saying anything, still kind of winded from being fallen on. Oh, oh no. Baby felt the telltale tickle in his throat that signaled the impending loss of oxygen. He cringed, bracing himself. On his next inhale, his air was completely cut off. It got stuck in his chest somewhere, frozen like a rock on the inside. It was a familiar feeling, but that didn't make the coughing any less inevitable. As his body convulsed for air, it came up in a cough. He hacked and hacked, having to bend over.
Damn, and right in front of Oliver's friends. Now they were going to act all concerned, ask him if he was okay. He was fine. He'd always been fine. The coughing had started years ago, yeah, but it was just that. Just coughing. It wasn't anything to worry about.
As he doubled over on the sidewalk, coughing so much he was close to puking, all Baby thought about how glad he was Oliver couldn't see him.
"Whoa, dude, are you okay?" Emmett asked as soon as he was done.
Baby straightened up with a breathless little laugh. He tried for a grin, and inhaled deep. Air. Air was good.
"Yeah I'm fine," he said. "I always get winded after performances. Plus I think I'm getting a cold."
"Aw that sucks," Francesca said.
They had propped Oliver up between them, his head lolled to one side. Baby smiled at him fondly. He stepped forward and leaned on his tiptoes to wipe some drool off the corner of his mouth.
"Take care of him, yeah?" Baby asked softly.
Francesca cooed. "Of course we will. He'll be texting you sick tomorrow."
"Lovesick, maybe," Emmett said.
Baby smiled. "Thanks guys."
"Of course Baby," Francesca told him. "Get home safe!"
"Cheers," Baby said, mocking a small salute before turning on his heel.
He lugged his amp and guitar, feeling heavy. Waiting for the bus in the cold, Baby felt strangely empty. He didn't want to go back to his empty apartment and his empty bed, in all that empty silence. The walk back from a show was always worse than the trip there. The bus stopped, and Baby slowly climbed on. He tried not to strain himself, for fear of another cough attack.
Baby curled up in the bus seat, feet tucked under him. He immediately pulled his phone out.
me: thanks for coming tonight
me: even if you did get fucking smashed
me: it meant a lot to see you there
me: be safe oliver x
Somehow, texting Oliver didn't make him feel any better. Maybe it was the absence of the little typing bubble appearing at the bottom of the screen, or maybe it was knowing that Oliver was asleep somewhere in a warm bed with his family in the house. Baby sighed and put his phone back in his pocket.
He looked out the window at the sky, and pressed his forehead to the glass. It fogged under his touch. Outside, street lamps and stars hung huge. They made Baby feel very small, and very alone.
The world was dark, the music was over, and Baby's chest was tight. For some reason, things didn't feel like they were going to be okay.