Frog Rock

by wheneveryouwantto

Summary:

Sam was born for the stage. He knows it, and everyone around him knows it. The lights from the stage shine into his soul, and reflect straight off into the crowd in sparkling, prismatic colours.

Sometimes, he thinks he might have been born for Sebastian, too.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Notes:

i'd like to dedicate this fic to my friend, annetastic. you know her, you love her, and i love her too! so, so much. thank you for everything, anne ♡

Sam was born for the stage. He knows it, and everyone around him knows it too. The lights from the stage shine into his soul, and reflect straight off into the crowd in sparkling, prismatic colours. Something about the buzz of a baseline makes his brain buzz too, and fills him with determination. Nowhere but the stage of a sticky 500 capacity venue could be called his home.

Calluses on his fingers are second nature. The slick lacquer on the body of his guitar sticks against his sweaty stomach, and the bolts attaching the neck leave imprints in his skin. Sometimes, the earpiece feels almost permanent. However, he wouldn’t change any of it for the world. To Sam, no feeling comes close to pressing his face against Shane’s, and screaming into the microphone with him. Hearing the crowd’s excited uproar makes everything worth it. The hair curling around his ears, the eyeliner smudging down his cheeks and the perpetual stiffness in his toes. In the last year, he’s had to buy three new pairs of boots.

Sam turns around and smiles at Sebastian, who quickly upgraded from a synthesizer to a bass guitar upon signing The Goblin Destroyers’ record deal. Sebastian is the bassist, but also the producer — He is the glue that holds the band’s music together. The fans love him; a quiet, mysterious emo boy, who stands firmly and calmly on the stage, arm snaking over the top of his guitar, plucking at the strings with black-painted fingernails.

Sebastian smiles back, nodding his head rhythmically to ground himself in his playing. In all the years they’ve known each other, Sam has gotten the most genuine smiles out of Sebastian when they’re performing together. That, and when they’re fucking. Shane is very serious on stage and off, and Abby is a bundle of joy no matter what she’s doing. But Sebastian - He becomes a different person. As soon as the stage fright dissipates, he becomes the most beautiful thing in the world. Carefree, passionate, attractive. So, so attractive. It’s too easy for Sam to become totally enamoured by him.

The band wraps up the penultimate song of their set, so Sam pulls the guitar from over his head and sits at the end of the stage with his legs dangling over. He grins down at the crowd in front of him, and waves at a couple of girls who are pushed up against the barricade. He’ll remember them — He’ll give them a set list, or his guitar pick. Then, they’ll go home happy, and Sam will have completed his job to a satisfactory standard.

He’s picked up somewhat of a reputation of being the friendliest member of The Goblin Destroyers. All of the members are beloved for different reasons, but Sam may be the most beloved of all. He goes out of his way to make time for the fans. He talks to them outside after shows, signs autographs, takes pictures, and sometimes goes and hangs out in a bar with them. With the former three, he has no ulterior motives. He wants to establish himself as someone who is no more important than the people who support him.

The former, however, is another story. Sam’s always been a casual person. Casual with friendships, casual with work, casual with sex and romance. He’s lost count of how many fans he’s slept with. How many he’s shared a hotel room with, exchanged breath with. How many fans he’s felt the touch of, and how many have felt his.

Sebastian scolds him for it. He says that hooking up with fans gives Sam a bad look. It makes him seem sloppy and untrustworthy. The type of person that shouldn’t be in a position of fame.

Sam doesn’t believe that to be true. He’s not taking advantage of anything but a convenient situation. If he has someone’s enthusiastic consent, why should he turn them down? He’ll never see these people again, and having meaningless sex is fun. He doesn’t have the time or emotional energy for a relationship, kind of, so where else can he be useful if not in a dingy hotel room?

Sometimes, Sam wonders if Sebastian is just jealous. He wonders if Sebastian is trying to be selfish, and making an attempt to keep Sam to himself. That’s the problem with him — He’s too serious. He finds meaning in absolutely everything. Sam’s happy with his life being meaningless. As long as he’s on stage, he’s content. But, nothing ever seems enough for Seb.

Shane passes the microphone down to Sam. Despite the fact that Shane is the lead singer, he’s not great at talking to the crowd. Riling people up and creating excitement is Sam’s job, and he’s really good at it. So, he happily takes the microphone, and a deep breath along with it.

Pressing the microphone against his lips, he shouts “How are you doing, ZuZu City?!”

Of course, he’s met with screams of pleasure. He smiles into the microphone and nods his head.

“Will we be seeing any of you again tomorrow?”

Screams again. Sam manages to hold the crowd in the palm of his hand — Melting in the centre, warm and malleable. He smiles against the microphone, and looks out over the hundreds of heads. Two shows, back to back in ZuZu City to finish up the band’s first headline tour. It’s nothing if not a dream come true. All Sam’s years spent convincing his parents he’d be a musician amounted to something incredible.

Haley smiles up at him, pressed up against the stage and snapping photos. She loves taking pictures just as much as Sam loves to entertain. A court jester, placed in a position of emotional control over an unimaginable amount of people he’s never spoken to. People he’ll never speak to directly. He supposes that the music speaks for itself. He and Shane are a perfect creative duo. Shane does the lyrics, Sam does the melodies.

Sam stands, hands the microphone back to Shane, then pulls the cherry-red guitar back over his head by the strap. He looks back to Abby, sends her a singular nod, and prepares himself for the final song. She taps on the snare, and Sam closes his eyes in anticipation for his first chord. When he strikes it, the electricity running through the auxiliary cord runs through his bones. He’s electrified. The atoms in his body fight for dominance over his heart.

Notes:

‘’ao3 user wheneveryouwantto, i’ve seen this before!’’ i hear you cry.

yes. you have. everyone welcome frog rock back from the dead! *celebration noises*

i initially deleted this fic because i was unhappy with it and needed to tweak it, but i’ve been working insanely hard on it over the summer and it’s here now, for your reading enjoyment! i’m so glad to finally release this into the world again :) i know people really liked it the first time around, and i hope you'll love it even more this time.

the first few chapters are basically the same as they were last time, but then it gets all fun and new and exciting, so i hope you’ll stick around! :3

(if you're new here, welcome! i'm primarily an alex/male farmer writer, and this fic takes place in the background of my most recently completed fic, find your way home. you don't have to have read that to read this, but for clarification -- kenny, who is mentioned a couple of times throughout this fic, is my farmer OC!)

Chapter 2: Starstruck

Notes:

Starstruck - Sorry

another chapter for you today :P please enjoy! see you next week!

Sam steps into the dressing room with the rest of his bandmates, and pushes his hair our of his face. He is hot. Sweaty to hell, shirtless and glistening. Abby doesn’t mind, and wraps her arms around him anyway. Her cheek sticks to Sam’s chest, her forearms to his back, and she jumps up and down on her toes excitedly.

‘’We are so fucking cool,’’ She states, before Haley appears and whisks Abby away from Sam to kiss her. Shane wipes his face with the bottom of his shirt, and falls backwards into the old, probably piss-stained sofa. Sam knows that they’re cool — They’re the coolest people to ever come from Pelican Town. Even Shane, who constantly talks about how he’s too old to be involved with this, is cool. The fact that he’s older actually makes him cooler, in Sam’s eyes. He’s like a badass uncle.

Sebastian sits next to Shane, much more neatly, while Abby poses against the heavily-autographed walls of the dressing room so Haley can take portraits of her. Haley is a brilliant photographer, but having her as the band’s photographer comes with some issues — She takes an extortionate amount of photos of Abby, and not enough of anyone else. It makes perfect sense, considering that her and Abby have been inseparable for years. They’re perfect for each other, but Sam does wish that Haley would take more pictures of the rest of the band members.

Abby is beautiful, though. The band’s drummer, and the only female member, which makes her objectively badass. Sam, Abby and Sebastian have always been best friends. Pelican Town’s emo trinity, as coined by Sebastian’s sister Maru when they were teenagers. Abby’s only gotten more captivating since then. And Sebastian…? Well, Sebastian’s only gotten more attractive, which makes Sam’s life incredibly difficult.

As young, queer teenagers in a small town, it was inevitable that Sam and Sebastian would experiment with each other. They had all their firsts together — Every single conceivable one. Sometimes it was just an attempt to cross an invisible milestone, and sometimes it was born from lust, or touch starvation, or poor, drunk mistakes. Some of their history was regrettable, some was not, and some follow Sam around like the linger of his cologne.

Nowadays, Sam and Sebastian are best friends. They always have been, really. Friends, colleagues, creative partners. They’re older now, and they know what they want. What they want is not each other.

Except when it is what Sam wants. Sometimes he wants Sebastian more than anything else in the world. Carnal and desperate. However, some people just aren’t made for each other. Sam and Sebastian are, supposedly, two of those people.

‘’You’re great, Sam,’’ Sebastian says, cracking open a can of beer. Sam, who was a little dazed and watching Abby and Haley, snaps his head around to look at Sebastian.

‘’You think?’’ He asks, much more bashful than he’d ever want to seem. Sebastian isn’t a particularly sincere person — He speaks in facts and objectives, and it’s not often that he offers a casual compliment. Especially not to Sam, who Sebastian knows will take it very personally.

‘’I do. You have so much energy. You’ve got bruises on your knees, and you still drop to them every night for dramatic effect. Harvey’s going to have his work cut out for him when we get back to PT.’’

Sam looks down at his knees, half-covered by a pair of far too large denim shorts, then grins up at Sebastian. Something Sam knows how to do is put on a show. He spent so many years analysing live performances, and practicing alone in his bedroom. As the guitarist, he has a lot of dexterity, and he uses it to his advantage whenever he possibly can.

Haley moves to stand behind Sam, and starts pulling his mullet into a ponytail, allowing his neck to breathe. He likes it when Haley does this. The feeling of her long fingernails raking against his scalp is comforting. It reminds him of his mother.

Sam enjoys being pampered. Haley does his hair, and Abby drags eyeliner along his waterline before every show. She begs Shane and Sebastian to wear eyeliner too, but they refuse. Apparently it’s another thing that Shane is ‘too old’ for. Sebastian gets squeamish about the eyeliner pencil’s proximity to his eyes. At first, so did Sam. But the first time Abby put the eyeliner on him, many years ago, he and Sebastian exchanged several passionate kisses, pressed up against Sam’s bedroom door, their waists mere atoms apart. He hasn’t complained about the uncomfortability of the application since, and Abby takes great pleasure in putting Sam in makeup. It fights gender norms, she says. Sam just wants to feel Sebastian’s teeth sinking into his shoulder again.

‘’Don’t compliment him too hard, Seb. He’ll take it as an excuse to become the most insufferable person alive,’’ Shane comments. It makes Abigail laugh, and she offers a high-five to Shane, who does not take it. He notoriously hates any kind of physical contact, and Sam isn’t sure why Abby even tries in the first place.

‘’I’m going to be insufferable on purpose now, just to piss you off,’’ Sam jokes to Shane, who rolls his eyes and leans back into the sofa. Shane has a way of affection that can be difficult to decode, but Sam has been working with him for years now. Shane’s involvement with the band was kickstarted by Pelican Town’s farmer, and Alex’s boyfriend, Kenny — He managed to convince Shane to join the band, after discovering his background in the punk music scene. Shane’s singing style has since toned down and become more melodic, but his roots in punk music have never fallen away from him. He is loud, gruff and passionate, commandeering the speakers with his angsty way of song. The lyrics he writes are angsty, but emotionally beautiful. It brings out a sincere side of Shane, who is usually sarcastic and lukewarm.

Sam unzips his shorts, pushes them down and replaces them with a pair of comfortable sweatpants. They’re the same sweatpants he’s been wearing since he was sixteen. They’re tight at his ankles, stained and covered in holes, but they’re his favourite pair. He’s not very good at letting go of sentimental items. He pulls a hoodie over himself, too — One of the band’s merch pieces. Black, with a graphic of Abby slaying a goblin on the back, and a small G.D. printed on the front. This particular hoodie was designed lovingly by Leah and Emily, and Sam loves it.

‘’A hoodie with no shirt underneath? Isn’t that scratchy?’’ Haley asks, picking at the ribbon tied around Abby’s ponytail. Sam shakes his head at her.

‘’Nah. It’s soft as hell on the inside, thanks to your sister’s expertise.’’

‘’It’s a shame we had to outsource the merch production to an external company. The stuff your sister made fucking rocks,’’ Abby agrees, her speech mostly directed at Haley, who smiles to herself.

‘’Emily’s the best. She still wants to make you guys tour outfits, you know. Maybe next time,’’ Haley informs the group.

‘’At least she won’t have to worry about Sam, since he’s as good as naked most of the time,’’ Shane comments. Sam rolls his shorts up and throws them at Shane, but misses, which makes Sebastian laugh. His poor throw is embarrassing, but Sebastian’s laughter makes up for it.

‘’You’re just jealous because you’re not young and strapping like I am.’’

‘’Young and stripping,’’ Shane mumbles, which leads to an amused uproar from everyone in the room.

‘’Whatever, bro. I’m heading out. Awesome job tonight, guys,’’ Sam announces. He’s met with nods and thank you’s from his bandmates and Haley, then makes his way out of the back door to meet with the fans outside of the venue.

 

-

 

Hanging out with the lingering fans goes as well as it normally does. He signs shirts, tickets, phone cases, arms. He takes a million and one photos, and takes a grateful toke of someone’s joint. No one catches his eye, though. But, that’s okay — That’s not what he’s here for. He’s here to make people happy. The casual sex is just an occasional added bonus.

Once everyone has left, Sam heads back into the dressing room. He’s met with everyone hauling their bags on, getting ready to go to the hotel for the night.

‘’I need to call Alex,’’ Haley says, checking the time on her phone, then furrowing her eyebrows. ‘’I’m not sure he’ll be awake though.’’

Haley calls Alex every night. Anyone would think they’d been in a committed relationship for several years. Sam’s never seen a friendship so true and sincere.

‘’Is he at home, or here?’’ Abby asks. Alex spends half of his time in Pelican Town, and half of his time in ZuZu City. He’s a big-league Gridball player, so has to balance his two lives carefully.

Haley looks at the ceiling thoughtfully. ‘’I’m actually not sure. Let me call Kenny… He’ll probably be awake.’’

So, Haley does. Abby interlocks their arms together, so that she can guide Haley through the street while she’s looking at her phone. Inspired, Sam pulls his phone out of his back pocket and flicks it open. He buttons through the notifications; The daily reminder to call his mom, a text from his dad, and a text from his younger brother, Vincent. Why Sam’s mom gave Vincent a phone, he’ll never understand. However, he selects that notification first.

Vinny: good luck with show! your so cool! i miss you!

 

Almost eleven years old, and still unable to discern the difference between your and you’re. Smarts don’t run in the family. Regardless, Sam chuckles, and quickly types a message back with one thumb.

Sam: thanks Vinny :D i miss you too

 

‘’Alex is in the city! And he’s coming to the show tomorrow!’’ Haley announces excitedly, grinning at Abby.

‘’For real? That’s great! I miss his stupid face,’’ Abby replies. Haley tucks her phone into her handbag, then pulls away from Abby’s arm-lock, holding her hand instead.

‘’I miss him too. So much.’’

‘’It’s like you’re his mom,’’ Shane teases. Haley flaps her free hand at him, laughing. Sam’s phone pings, and he taps the screen on again to see another text from Vincent.

 

Vinny: me and jas are having a sleepover >:) were watching . movie

Sam: that’s great!! don’t stay up too late ok?

Sam: also it’s we’re

Sam: with an apostrophe

Sam: is penny teaching u anything at all?

Vinny: yawn -o-

 

Sam smiles at the phone, then turns the ringer off and drops it into his pocket again. The crisp fall wind hits the back of his neck, and it’s the most refreshing thing he’s ever felt. He looks up, but he can’t see the moon. ZuZu City has a perpetual fog that hangs over the skyscrapers, making seeing the moon or stars an almost impossible task. As children, he and Sebastian fantasised about living together in the city, but nowadays, Sam’s not sure if he’d be able to live in a place with no visible moon. It would be too depressing.

Touring around Ferngill Republic is fun. Seeing new places and new people is mentally stimulating. However, Pelican Town will always be Sam’s home. It takes a kind of maturity to admit that to himself. He didn’t appreciate Pelican Town before he started touring — It was too slow, too samey. But now, it’s the only place he wants to rest his head at night.

Tonight, though, he’s in a hotel. Normally it would be a tour bus, but because they’re playing in the city again tomorrow, they get the luxury of a hotel. Sam has his night planned out meticulously. He’s going to have a bath, smoke a joint, and watch crappy cable TV. He doesn’t need the moon or the stars to have a good time. A bubble bath works just as well.

However, when he steps into his hotel room, Sebastian follows. He drops his bags, falls backwards into the bed, and closes his eyes. It’s not unusual for Sebastian and Sam to hang out together after a show. Sam did really want to have that bath, though. Perhaps he can do it in the morning.

He rummages through his bag for his phone charger, then pulls it out and plugs it into the wall next to the bed.

‘’You good?’’ He asks Sebastian, and sits next to him. Sebastian looks at Sam through his eyelashes, and sighs.

‘’I’m good. Tired. Exhausted. But good.’’

‘’If you’re exhausted, why are you here? Go to bed, dingus,’’ Sam replies, teasing. Sebastian pushes himself up and kicks his shoes off so he can sit cross-legged.

‘’I’m exhausted mentally. Physically I’m fine. But playing every night is tiring. I don’t know how you have all that enthusiasm all the time.’’

Sam shrugs in response. He’s enthusiastic because he loves what he does. It fills him with energy, instead of draining him. He doesn’t doubt that Sebastian loves it too, but he’s always been easy to tire. He gets tired from conversations that last slightly too long, and from pulling himself out of bed in the morning. He’s introverted to a fault, and sometimes Sam’s amazed that he has the drive to be in the band at all. It must be meaningful to him, in some way. Or, he’s still around because the band would fall apart without him.

‘’We’re just different, I guess. I could go and play another show right now.’’

‘’I’m surprised you didn’t bring a girl back,’’ Sebastian comments, completely changing the subject. Despite the fact that he’s trying to be nonchalant, his voice is unmissably sour. Sam knows that Sebastian doesn’t like talking about his hook-ups, and yet, he continuously brings it up. Sam doesn’t understand why.

‘’I’m not a sex pest, Seb. I can be normal,’’ He replies, irritated. Sebastian just gazes out into the room, looking at nothing in particular. Sam waits for a response, and when he gets none, he decides he will have that bath. It doesn’t matter that Sebastian’s there. He’s obviously got nothing interesting to say, anyway.

So, Sam heads silently into the bathroom, and turns the faucet on. He holds his fingers under the water while adjusting the temperature. Once he’s satisfied, he dumps the entire bottle of hotel-provided bubble bath into the water. It’s not a difficult task, considering how stingy hotels are with their bathroom products. The fact that the shampoo bottle is bolted to the wall just makes Sam want to steal it more. Maybe he should start carrying a screwdriver, to make a point. Of what, he’s not sure, but it would be funny anyway.

He sits on the edge of the bath, making figure-eights in the slowly increasing water levels to mix in the bubble bath mixture. After a little while, Sebastian joins him, standing against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest.

‘’Sorry,’’ He says quietly, not looking at Sam.

‘’You’re good. I just wish you’d stop talking about it. It’s no big deal to me, or anyone else. I don’t know why it is for you.’’

Sebastian sighs, then looks at Sam, straight in the eyes. ‘’You know why.’’

In fact, Sam doesn't really know why. It doesn’t matter anymore, though. What’s the point of lingering around in the past, when there’s so much future ahead of him? He’s twenty-six years old, living through the humble beginnings of a music career that could be very fruitful. it’s already fruitful, and it’s only just begun. There’s a whole world waiting for him, and it’s one that only involves Sebastian as a side character. The best friend, the sidekick, maybe even the fan-favourite.

That world requires a lot of self-control, however, and self-control is something that Sam’s never been good at.

Chapter 3: An Elephant in any Room

Notes:

Bossa Nova Corps - Origami Angel

so evidently i lied when i said ''see you next week''. i'm uploading these next two chapters early because they're, as i said, basically the same as they were before. buttt after this i'm going to be uploading on fridays :-) in my timezone... i'm moving to japan in a couple of weeks so it may end up being on thursdays for some of you, but... WHATEVER. it's friday to MEEEEEEE

ZuZu City: Night Two goes exceptionally well. The best show of the tour, according to the band’s manager. Considering how exhausted everyone is, it almost feels like a miracle. No one is going to turn down the compliment, though. Instead, they make a group decision to head to a bar to celebrate.

Shane’s sobriety is something the band has to be very conscious of. He’s okay to go to a bar, but struggles when his friends end up drunk. It’s something that’s probably for the best — Sam has a habit of getting too drunk, too quickly, and doing things he should regret. Should, because he usually doesn’t. Either way, Shane’s able to inadvertently keep everyone in check. They care for him too much to put him in a position that could risk his carefully-guarded mental health.

So, Sam’s on a two-beer limit. Two beers, and perhaps a shot. Nothing too crazy, and especially nothing on an empty stomach. He stops by a fast food joint on the way to the bar, and buys him, Haley and Shane a burger each. Everyone else claims they aren’t hungry, but Alex takes a comically large bite of Haley’s burger.

‘’Ugh, do you mind? If you want a burger, get one yourself,’’ Haley grumbles, quickly pulling the burger away from Alex before he gets the chance to inhale the whole thing.

‘’I’m not technically allowed to eat burgers. Strict diet. I’m a star athlete, you know,’’ Alex informs, puffing out his chest dramatically. It reminds Sam of Elliott, strangely.

‘’So you can’t buy one for yourself, but can eat half of mine in one bite? Get freaking lost, ball boy,’’ Haley spits, then steps to the other side of Abby so Alex can’t bother her anymore. It sends him into a fit of laughter, and makes Sam laugh too. Before Haley and Abby became girlfriends, Sam knew next to nothing about Haley. She was his neighbour, and they went to school together, and she often shouted at him through her bedroom window, ordering him to turn his music town. Other than that, they had no kind of friendship. Abby’s crush on Haley came as a surprise to Sam, but luckily for everyone, it worked out perfectly.

Sam crumples up the foil from his burger when he’s done, and tosses it into the next bin he walks past. Sebastian does the same thing, and Sam, unaware of the proximity, turns around and is met with Sebastian’s face, their noses close enough to touch. Awkward, Sam thinks. They’re in kissing proximity. They haven’t been in kissing proximity for a while.

‘’Sorry,’’ Sebastian mumbles, stepping back and skulking over to the group again. Sam stands for a moment, takes a deep breath, then follows.

Sometimes, being around Sebastian is overwhelming. Like stepping on eggshells, waiting for the inevitable moment in which they fall into each other again. Sometimes, it feels as though they have some kind of divine connection. Something external, extra-terrestrial. A red string of fate that gets tangled, knotted and broken, before repairing itself. Every time it does so, it’s shorter than it was previously. When he’s feeling particularly existential, Sam wonders if he and Sebastian were predestined to grapple with a messy, perpetually undefined relationship.

He squints his eyes tightly, as a way to reset his train of thought. Yearning over Sebastian now has no use. It never seems to have use — It’s just an emotional waste of time. Abby tells him as such regularly.

‘’How’s your knee?’’ Abby asks Alex, pointing at the elastic knee support peeking out from underneath his shorts.

‘’Pain in the ass, bro. But it doesn’t hurt so much now. It’s more uncomfortable than anything,’’ Alex responds unenthusiastically. Unaware of the context, Sam looks at Sebastian with furrowed brows. Sebastian shrugs, indicating that he is also uninformed of Alex’s mystery knee issue, then pulls a box of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans. He silently offers one to Sam, who shakes his head. Even though Sam doesn’t smoke, Sebastian offers him a cigarette every time without fail. Sam can’t decide if it’s sweet, or annoying. Both, really, depending on the state of their relationship each time. Right now, it’s sweet. Tomorrow? Who knows.

Sebastian passes a cigarette over to Shane instead, lights his, and holds the tip against Shane’s to transfer the heat. Sam’s always thought that there’s something oddly romantic about sharing cigarettes with someone. Perhaps that’s why Sebastian offers them to him, or perhaps Sam is just romanticising it because of his personal feelings about Sebastian. Either way, it makes his face heat up in a way he could really do without if he thinks about it too hard.

 

-

 

Notoriously, Sam’s a lightweight. He’s a lightweight in regards to everything — Two beers are enough to get him almost-drunk, half a joint makes him lose the ability to breathe from his nose, and one look from Sebastian that lasts half a second too long immediately renders him weak at the knees. He knows it’s ridiculous, and he knows it means nothing. Seb’s just one of those people who has a lingering gaze. He looks at everything for longer than is necessary, as if he’s trying to create a perfect mental image of everything for future use. He moves slowly, purposely. It’s his nature, and has nothing to do with Sam.

Introversion is also in Sebastian’s nature, meaning that he’s standing against the wall, as far away from everyone as humanly possible. Shane is with him, cradling a can of Joja cola and apparently cracking jokes. Shane’s humour isn’t to Sam’s tastes, but Sebastian finds him hilarious. They’re both dry people, somewhat stoic and standoffish, so naturally, they manage to make each other laugh easily. Despite how long Sam and Sebastian have known each other, it’s still Shane who’s able to make Sebastian laugh the easiest.

‘’You’re totally staring at Seb,’’ Abby mumbles into Sam’s ear, poking him in the shoulder. She’s sitting next to him in a booth, with Haley and Alex opposite. They’re totally caught up in each other, talking about anything and everything. Gossiping, in true Pelican Town nature. Sam hasn’t been paying attention. Abby’s right — He’s been too busy watching Sebastian.

Sam leans back in his seat and sighs. ‘’I didn’t notice.’’

‘’You’re ridiculous. You’re both ridiculous,’’ Abby replies, grinning ear to ear. It’s not something Sam would consider particularly amusing, but to Abby, almost everything is. She’s chronically unserious, and able to find the fun in every situation. Usually, Sam’s the same. Just not when it comes to Sebastian. It’s the one thing with the ability to drag him down, and recently it’s been getting so much worse.

Something about the perpetual close proximity between them has been brain-altering. A month-long tour around the Ferngill Republic, stuck together in a tour bus, dressing rooms and hotels. Sharing beds, clothes and bottles of water. Nothing that means anything, but something that’s still able to change someone’s brain chemistry. A shared life that could kill Sam from the inside out.

Hooking up with fans is fun. Meaningless sex in every thinkable capacity is the most enjoyable thing in the world. But, Sam’s several partners would probably be deeply unhappy if they knew that he was thinking about Sebastian the whole time, every time.

‘’I don’t know what you’re talking about, man,’’ Sam mutters, completely lying through his teeth. In actuality, he knows exactly what Abby is talking about. She knows that he does too, so grimaces at him.

‘’You’re such a fucking liar. I don’t know why you’re pretending that you aren’t crazy in love with him.’’

Sam’s pretending he’s not crazy in love with Sebastian, because it’s not a love that can be communicated responsibly.

Once, many years ago, Sam and Sebastian officiated their relationship. They were boyfriends, very briefly, before everything fell apart and burst into flames. Afterwards, they didn’t talk to each other for months. It made everything awkward, due to their lives having been merged together for so long. That’s the worst thing about living in a small town — Everyone knows each other at a level that goes deeper than the soul.

Their history goes into childhood. They hang out at the Saloon with Abby every Friday. Sometimes, within the last few years, with Shane, or Alex’s boyfriend, too. Now, they’re in the band together. There isn’t a single thing on earth that doesn’t remind Sam of Sebastian, and he’d be inclined to believe that the same is true, the other way around. The period of time after their break-up was the only time in Sam’s memory that he and Seb hadn’t been inseparable.

It wasn’t that they didn’t love each other. It just didn’t work. So, their cycle of hook-ups that end in a briefly awkward friendship are all they’ve got. Many times, Sam has made attempts to talk about reconciliation. Most times, Sebastian brushes him off. Sometimes, they get dangerously close to it. Every time, they decide that their romantic separation is for the best.

‘’I’m not in love with him, dude. I was just zoned out.’’

‘’You both need to get over yourselves, for real. Your dumb gay pining has gotten so much worse recently. I’m surprised you managed to keep your hands off each other this past month,’’ Abby observes in response. She looks over at Sebastian, who downs the rest of his drink and places it on the table next to him. The purple mood lighting of the bar mixed with the long hair covering his face make his expression unreadable, but his hoodie hangs perfectly from his shoulders, Always oversized, because he doesn’t like his body. Sam likes it, though. He thinks Sebastian is the most beautiful thing on planet earth.

‘’I’m not sober enough for this conversation.’’

‘’Yeah, I can tell. Sober Sam doesn’t stare lovingly at his boyfriend-not-boyfriend for multiple minutes straight,’’ Abby replies. Sam elbows her in the side, which makes her laugh. She then redirects her attention back to Alex and Haley, leaving Sam to continue watching Shane and Sebastian’s interaction. Observing, not staring.

Eventually, though, Sam finds himself replacing Shane, leaning against the wall and touching shoulders with Sebastian. He picks Sam’s beer out of his hand, holding the glass from the top and taking a couple of sips from it. Sam watches as he does so, and grimaces a little.

‘’Do you mind?’’ He asks, wrapping his hand around the free part of the glass once Sebastian’s finished. Sebastian just shakes his head.

‘’Not really. What beer is that?’’

‘’Uh… I don’t remember. Some Grampleton thing,’’ Sam replies, finally gaining back ownership of his beer. Sebastian hums thoughtfully.

‘’GT Gold?’’ He asks. The name rings a bell, but Sam isn’t sure. Despite this, he nods anyway, not feeling particularly interested in discussing the different kinds of Grampleton beer. He couldn’t be less interested, actually, and is more focused on watching Sebastian anxiously bite the skin off his lips. Despite his years of chain-smoking and borderline dangerous caffeine consumption, he has the whitest teeth Sam’s ever seen.

‘’I want to hold your glass. I don’t know what to do with my hands.’’

Sam squints up at Sebastian. ‘’Put them in your pockets. You’re insane if you think I’m giving you free-reign access to my drink.’’

‘’I swear to God I won’t drink it. I just wanna hold it,’’ Sebastian replies, looking at Sam, but lazily leaning the side of his head against the wall. Sam unintentionally takes notice of how pretty he looks under the purple light, with it reflecting off the bridge of his nose and making his half-lidded, almost-drunk eyes shine.

‘’Fuck no. That’s exactly what someone who wants to drink my beer would say. You’re a conniving bitch,’’ Sam reiterates firmly. After a short silence, he slowly steps backwards from Sebastian, making pointed eye contact and cupping his glass with both hands. Sebastian laughs and follows Sam, causing them to stand closer than they were before. Sam wants to believe it’s intentional.

‘’Please?’’ Sebastian asks again, this time too close to Sam’s ear for comfort. Sam leans backwards, putting space between them.

‘’No, final answer. In fact—’’ Sam interrupts himself, downing the rest of the drink and then placing the empty glass on the table, next to Sebastian’s old one. ‘’Now no one gets to hold a beer. Hands in the pockets for you, bro.’’

Sebastian’s gaze lingers, but not in the same way it usually does. It’s less of a lingering look, and more of a hazy stare, crossing the entire of Sam’s face. The kind of look that one would receive seconds before being kissed, and of course, it makes Sam want to kiss Sebastian really badly.

It would be so easy. They’re both intoxicated, and protected by the dim lights and the crowd of people. ZuZu City is a friendly place for gay people, and the bar they’re in seems to have no shortage of them. The rest of the band, including Haley and Alex, are on the other side of the room, too invested in each other’s stories to pay attention to Sam and Sebastian. It would be over in seconds, and would satiate what he could only describe as a need to be physically close with Sebastian.

‘’Stop looking at me like that,’’ Sebastian mumbles, dropping his head to hide his face with his hair. It’s a habit he has — Sam often wonders if Sebastian truly likes his hair, or if it’s just as excuse to be hidden away. Unreadable and safe.

‘’Jesus, you sound like Abby. I’m not looking at you like anything, I just—’’

‘’Come with me,’’ Sebastian takes hold of Sam’s wrist, and starts leading him across the bar. He knows exactly what it means. They’ve done this a million times.

 

-

 

‘’Shh,’’ Sebastian warns, gently covering Sam’s mouth with his hand. His rings press up against Sam’s lips, cold and harsh. ‘’Be careful.’’

All Sam can do in response is whimper as quietly as he possibly can, while Sebastian fingers at his waistband with his free hand. He’s being too slow, Sam thinks. Too cautious. Hooking up in the bathroom of a bar isn’t a task that needs careful consideration. Sam doesn’t want something slow and loving — He just wants Sebastian to get him off. He needs Seb to get him off, and quickly, before the rest of the bandmates become suspicious, or someone walks in and sees them.

Shane scolds Sam every time he and Seb fall into hooking up with each other again. He says it’s not good for either of them emotionally, and that they should establish their relationship first. Sebastian’s not a casual sex kind of guy, and has only ever had sex with two people. One of them being Sam, more times than either of them can count. By now, it feels like a fact of life: Sam and Sebastian will have sex with each other. They have sex with each other, and then Sebastian gets upset for some unknown reason, and then they stop talking to each other for a couple of weeks, and then eventually bounce back as if nothing happened. The cycle continues, rinse and repeat. It’s been this way for years.

Perhaps the two-beer limit wasn’t for Shane’s wellbeing after all. Two beers turned into four, and four turned into Sebastian’s fingers pressed against Sam’s stomach, placing gentle kisses against his neck and breathing down his collar.

‘’You’re so cute,’’ Sebastian mumbles, sliding his hand down the front of Sam’s skinny jeans.

‘’No I’m not—’’ Sam retorts, but Sebastian quickly pacifies him by sinking his teeth into Sam’s shoulder. It causes Sam to exhale quickly, and pull Sebastian’s hips closer to his. Sebastian traces his tongue up Sam’s neck, then kisses him on the jawline while wrapping his hand around his dick.

They’d been doing so well, keeping their hands away from each other. Unfortunately, Sam’s almost incapable of being nice to Sebastian without it turning into this. He’s not mad about it — In fact, he loves it. Perhaps he and Sebastian weren’t made for each other emotionally, but their sexual chemistry is undeniable. Sam’s had sex with so many people, in so many different ways. And yet, no one ever makes him feel the same was Sebastian does. Sebastian just gets him. He knows all of Sam’s sensitive spots. He knows what makes Sam weak at the knees, as if he’d been studying it for a final exam. A generous lover: Something Sam’s too self-indulgent to understand.

Sebastian has thin, nimble fingers. In that way, he’s Sam’s opposite. Sam’s always considered himself to be somewhat brutish. He’s shorter than Sebastian. Broader, more muscular. He’s unmissable in a room, and visually and audibly demanding. Always the centre of attention, whether intentional or not. Seb, on the other hand, is quieter. He doesn’t demand the gaze of a group in the same way Sebastian does. He’s content with falling into the shadows. Despite his height, he’s easy to miss.

However, Sam can feel Sebastian’s presence, no matter where they are. He can feel the ghosts of Sebastian’s breath down the back of his neck, and the jagged nails digging into his hipbones. He often wonders if Sebastian is haunted by those ghosts, too.

Sam rests his forehead in the nook of Sebastian’s shoulder, holding his breath, scrunching his face. A familiar scene, a familiar pressure, a familiar smell. A self-destructive type of comfort. Another ghost that will float around his head for the foreseeable. One that will be both his friend and his enemy, when lying in bed alone during the young hours of the morning.

The sharp right-angle of the counter presses into the bottom of Sam’s spine. He’s too focused on Sebastian’s unstable breath to take note of how uncomfortable it is.

Chapter 4: Somewhere Else to Go

Notes:

The Title Track - Origami Angel

‘’Sammy!’’ Vincent calls, before Sam has the chance to step into his house. With his hand still on the doorknob, bag still strapped around him, Vincent appears out of nowhere and tackles Sam with a hug. The force of it almost pushes him backwards — Despite Vincent’s age, he’s already about half the height of Sam. They’re a tall family, so it was inevitable, but every time Sam leaves Pelican Town, Vincent seems to shoot up. It’s almost as if he does all of his growing when Sam’s not there.

‘’Hey, dude.’’ Sam says, ruffling Vincent’s strawberry blonde hair and smiling down at him. ‘’How are you?’’

‘’I’m good! I missed you.’’

Sam’s parents, Jodi and Kent, appear behind Vincent. Jodi’s arm is around Kent’s waist, his around her shoulders, and she smiles softly at Sam. It’s a very mom smile; Fond, full of care and sweetness. Despite Sam being a grown, established adult, she still cares for him the same way she did when he was thirteen. It can be overbearing, but Sam knows that it comes entirely from a place of love.

‘’Yoba, Sam. Look at your arms! All bruised up!’’ Jodi exclaims, peeling herself away from Kent and taking one of Sam’s arms in her hands. She inspects him, twisting his arm around and biting her bottom lip. Her concern is probably justified, but Sam doesn’t take notice of his bruises. He gets them easily, and has a habit of being too rowdy for his own good. For him, the physical ailments come with the job of being a performer. He wouldn’t change it for the world.

‘’I’m fine, mom, honestly. Just too energetic, I guess.’’

Jodi sighs and drops Sam’s arm, then cups his face and kisses his forehead. ‘’My sweet boy. I’m so glad to have you back,’’ She says, voice full of watery emotion and unbridled love. ‘‘I cleaned up your bedroom for you. Make sure you leave the windows open while you’re here. It gets stuffy in there.’’

‘’Sure. Thank you,’’ Sam replies. He then lock eyes with Kent, and sends him a single nod, which he reciprocates. Sam loves his father, but they struggle with being sincere towards one another. It’s a result of Kent’s regular absence during Sam’s childhood. He only came back to Pelican Town for good a few years ago, and while their relationship has gotten better, Sam’s not sure it’ll ever be the same as it was when be was a child. He tries not to ruminate about it — It’s the fault of neither of them, and something that will require more years of gentle cultivation. He’s sure they’ll get there, some day.

Upon entering his bedroom, Sam finds that it is immaculate. Cleaner and tidier than it’s been in years. Sam’s a little scatter-brained, often forgetting to clean up after himself or dust around the skirting boards when he does end up cleaning. After dropping his bag, he makes sure to pull out a notebook and write himself a reminder to keep the windows open. He places it in clear view, a tactic he’s been using for years to make sure the information he needs to remember sticks in his brain.

Vincent, who followed Sam inside, sits on the bed and picks up a rubber band from the desk to play with. Once Sam’s written his note, he opens his wardrobe, pulls out a clean shirt, and replaces his current one with it. It has the stiffness of a shirt left to dry in the summer air, and smells nice. Like home.

‘’I wish I coulda come to see your shows,’’ Vincent mumbles. Sam sits next to him and pats his knee.

‘’Aw man, I’m sorry. There’s tons of pictures and videos, though! I’ll get Haley to show them to you. And Jas, too,’’ He promises, which seems to cheer Vincent up. Vincent’s always been Sam’s biggest supporter, thinking he’s the coolest person to walk the earth since the moment he could form a thought. They are very obviously brothers; Cut from exactly the same cloth, fallen from exactly the same tree, two halves of a whole. Sam couldn’t have asked for a better brother. They’ve never argued, never disliked each other. The same couldn’t be said for Sebastian and his half-sibling, Maru. Their relationship is notoriously strained, but seems to be getting better as they both age.

‘’How have things been with dad?’’ Sam asks, after a brief silence. Vincent shrugs.

‘’Same as normal,’’ He replies unceremoniously. Sam decides to avoid pushing it further, instead pulling his bag towards him and unzipping it with the intention to sort through the clothes inside. Vincent just sits quietly, twisting the rubber band between his fingers and leaning against the wall. Sam pulls everything out of the bag, inspects it, then folds it all into a pile to go in for a wash. Perhaps he’ll even do it himself this time.

Jodi gets strict when it comes to doing laundry, so she likely won’t let him. She meticulously separates everything by colour, even when it doesn’t need to be separated. Whites and reds go in separately, as do blacks and greys, even with trivial things like socks and underwear. The laundry, and the integrity of everyone’s clothing, are two things she takes very seriously.

‘’Your clothes smell like cigarettes,’’ Vincent observes, scrunching up his nose. Sam looks back at him and chuckles.

‘’Yeah, I know. You’ve got Seb and Shane to blame for that. Seb especially smokes more often than he doesn’t. It’s like the cigarettes are attached to his fingers.’’

Sam would never admit it out loud, but he’s always thought there’s something about the way Sebastian smokes a cigarette. His bony fingers, nails painted black, and the cigarette pressed between his thin lips. The way he closes his eyes, and leans against whatever is available to be leaned on. The smoke shrouding his face, giving him yet another layer of visual protection. To Sam, the smell of the burning tobacco and the smoke that gets stuck in his hair is barely noticeable anymore. But, if it wasn’t there, it would mean that Sebastian wasn’t either. He’s in no position to complain.

He wonders what Sebastian’s doing.. Possibly napping, or talking to Robin, or having one of his useless intellectual debates with Maru. Maybe he’s on his computer, eating, having a shower, or sitting by the lake. Sam always wants to know what Sebastian is doing. His interest never falters.

‘’Mom’s gonna be so mad. She hates having to wash the cigarette smell out. She tells dad off for it all the time.’’

‘’Oh yeah, she’ll be totally pissed. Maybe I should start taking my laundry to Seb’s, and make him do it as a punishment,’’ Sam jokes, and it makes Vincent laugh. His laugh sounds exactly the same as it did when he was little, and Sam thinks it’s sweet. He like the big age gap between him and Vincent — It means he can remember, crystal clear, what Vincent was like as a baby, and a younger child. He feels sentimental about it often, and can’t imagine what life was like prior to Vincent’s birth anymore.

 

-

 

After spending a little time at home, and having a well-needed nap, Sam decides to head over to Sebastian’s house. Not to see Sebastian, though — To see Sebastian’s parents. In a lot of ways, Sebastian’s parents are somewhat of a second family to Sam. As a child and teenager, half of his time was spent at Sebastian’s house. They’d play video games, watch pirated TV shows on websites that gave Sebastian’s computer viruses more than once, and daydream about life outside of Pelican Town. It was a life they shared, much simpler than the one they live in now.

Of course, Robin welcomes Sam into her home with warm, strong arms. Arms that feel like home just as much as his mother’s laundry detergent does. Demetrius peers out through the door of the kitchen, and smiles warmly in Sam’s direction. He’s holding a steamy coffee, and Sam wonders if it’s black. Sebastian likes his coffee black.

Upon pulling away, Robin pushes herself up to sit on the till counter. ‘’It’s so great to see you, Sam! Seb’s asleep in his room, but you’re more than welcome to hang out here for a bit. Do you want Demetrius to make you a drink?’’

Sam shakes his head, feeling the back of his long hair whipping around his shoulders. ‘’No thanks, I’m okay. I just wanted to say hi. How have you guys been?’’

‘’Oh, we’re fine, as always.’’

Sam scoffs. ‘’Fine? Without me around? How is that even possible?’’

Robin laughs, covering her mouth with her hand and crossing one leg over the other. Sam smiles, revelling in the sound. Even when he’s not on stage, the entertainment never stops. There’s always a joke to crack, a silly reference to make, a humorous observation to put forwards. An insatiable need to make people happy runs through him, and he’s not sure where it came from. Maybe he’s just like this, or maybe it stems from something deeper. Regardless, it doesn’t matter to him.

Before Robin can get another word in, Sebastian appears from out of the basement. He’s shirtless, sporting a pair of green, frog-decorated pyjama pants, and squinting in the harsh sunlight shining through the windows. He looks at Sam first, and then moves on to Robin, who wiggles her fingers at him in greeting. Something Sam’s notices about Sebastian, especially more recently, is how utterly dishevelled he looks every time he wakes up. The duration or quality of the sleep doesn’t matter in the slightest — If he’s been asleep, he will wake up looking like some kind of eldritch creature. it’s weirdly cute.

‘’Hey, big dude. Nice sleep?’’ Robin asks sweetly. She’s called Sebastian big dude in affection for many years. It used to be little dude, until Sebastian had a growth spurt when he was fifteen and ended up to be over six feet tall. At that point, little dude was much more comical than affectionate. The nickname simply had to be flipped. Sebastian seems to hate both iterations of it, though.

‘’Shit sleep, to be honest. It feels like someone’s been bashing my head in with a sledgehammer,’’ Sebastian mumbles, then uses a stray hair tie around his wrist to pull his hair our of his face, into a silly-looking ponytail atop his scalp.

‘’Why are you here?’’ He then asks Sam, with a tone of voice that sounds almost accusatory, as if Sam had ulterior motives for being there.

‘’I’m courting your mom. I hope that’s okay,’’ Sam replies casually, which makes Robin laugh again, harder than the last time. Sebastian, however, shoots daggers at him. Thousands and thousands of tiny, freshly sharpened ones. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to make him uncomfortable.

‘’Fucking Courting? What are you, sixty?’’ He replies. ‘’Lay off it.’’

Sam shrugs with only one shoulder, cocking his head to the side. Sebastian just watches, too exhausted to look as irritated as he probably would normally. Then, he turns on his toes, and shuffles away to join Demetrius in the kitchen. Sam looks at Robin, who’s dropped her head into her hand, massaging the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

‘’I bet you don’t cuss like that around your mom,’’ She says, looking at Sam. He can’t quite make out her expression, but shakes his head quickly anyway.

‘’She’d have me hung, drawn and quartered. Or thrown into the mines,’’ Sam replies, grinning at Robin. Sebastian’s family is just as much his as his own, in a lot of ways. Intertwined lives and a history of over twenty years. Ultimately, though, Robin won’t hang, draw, or quarter Sam for swearing, because Sebastian’s just as bad. Birds of a feather.

 

Notes:

ok. ACTUALLY see you next week. mwah <3

Chapter 5: Make it My Problem

Notes:

Business - Catfish and the Bottlemen

happy frog rock friday! bc that's a thing now. pls enjoy <3 i like this chapter a lot

Very little beats the feeling of the wind in Sam’s hair. Thrill-Seeker, his mother used to call him. He was the type of child to climb trees, to swim too far out into the ocean, to run in the rain with no shoes on. He got his first skateboard at ten years old, and spent the whole summer with scraped up knees, perpetual burning at the balls of his palms. Very quickly, he learned that danger is fun. Perhaps that’s why his father went to war, why Abby enjoys going to the mines, why Sebastian enjoys riding his motorbike. Flirting with something bigger than oneself, putting your wellbeing in the hands of a power that you can only hope is benevolent.

Sebastian wears a helmet, because he’s responsible. Sam, on the other hand, wants to feel the wind. He wants the night’s air to press against his face, and remind him of what it means to be alive. He chooses to ignore the potential ramifications — Where’s the fun in worrying about it? For now, he has his arms around Sebastian’s waist, looking over the cliffs at the sea in the distance. The light of the moon dances on the waves, and reminds him of stage lights.

The plan goes as follows — Drop into the city, go to their favourite food place, then drive back to the cliffs. It’s unremarkable, a schedule that has been repeated more times than Sam can count. A tradition that goes back many years, beginning the exact day that Sebastian got his license. It was exciting, then. The world was their oyster. In some ways, it still is. Abby likes to joke about the band exercising world domination.

Sebastian pulls into the parking lot of the diner, then turns off the ignition. It makes the night seem eerily silent. It’s easy for Sam to get used to the hum of the engine, the buzz of the motorbike vibrating though his entire body.

‘’You good?’’ Sebastian asks, looking back at Sam.

‘’Yep,’’ Sam replies, peeling himself away from Sebastian. He clambers off the motorbike, stretches out his back and readjusts the hair in his face. Sebastian copies, removing his helmet and tucking it under his arm. To Sam, the scene looks like something out of a movie. The love interest taking their helmet off, shaking out their long, beautiful hair, surrounded in sparkles and looking nothing short of ethereal. It’s dramatic, sure, but somehow, that’s exactly what Sam sees of Sebastian. Hands cradled in fingerless gloves, chipped black nail polish pushing hair out of his face. The fluorescent lighting of the car park hugging the shoulders of his black jacket, making him glow. It’s ridiculous.

‘’C’mon, I’m fucking starving. I forgot to eat today,’’ Sebastian says, then takes a few steps towards the restaurant.

‘’You forgot to eat today?’’ Sam calls after him. Sebastian stops, and turns to look at Sam.

‘’Yeah. It happens. I was fixing the bike then doing other stuff, food wasn’t really in the front of my mind.’’

Sam covers his face with his hands in exasperation. ‘’Oh my God, Seb. No wonder you’re so lanky.’’

Sebastian just shrugs unceremoniously, turns back around and continues walking. Some years back, there was a period of time where Sebastian really struggled to take care of himself. He wasn’t eating, would sleep all day, would barely leave the house. He had to actively re-learn how to do so, accompanied by his mother and a therapist. They tried to get him to stop smoking, too — Obviously, it didn’t work. Sebastian’s been smoking for as long as Sam can remember. Sebastian must have been… thirteen? Fourteen? Too young, that’s for sure.

Anyway — It doesn’t matter. Not right now, and especially not when Sebastian looks so attractive with a cigarette in his mouth. Instead of concerning himself with that, Sam innocently follows Sebastian into the diner. He steps lightly in his tattered sneakers, a contrast to the constant thud of Sebastian’s dramatically large, platformed boots. Sometimes, he speaks so quietly that Sam can barely hear him, but his boots are so loud that he can be heard before he’s seen. He is full of a plethora of complete contradictions.

 

-

 

‘’Are you nervous for the festival?’’

Sam looks up, mouth full of pizza, and shakes his head. Of course he’s not nervous for the festival. There’s almost nothing he gets nervous about, in general. When his dad was at war, he was nervous. When Vincent broke his arm, he was nervous. When Sebastian kissed him for the first time, he was nervous. But, generally speaking? Nerves aren’t something he’s familiar with. Especially when it comes to performing. He feels excitement, confidence, fulfilment. When he isn’t on stage, he itches to be back. Practicing in the shed on the farm, in his bedroom, in Sebastian’s house… It simply isn’t enough.

Sebastian slowly pulls two slices of pizza apart, not elaborating on his question. He then proceeds to pick the pepperoni off, dropping it into Sam’s side of the pizza box. No matter how hard, or how many times, Sam insists that they can share literally any other type of pizza, Sebastian always ends up ordering a pepperoni pizza anyway. He hates pepperoni, and when eating pizza by himself, he usually orders something deemed unfathomable by Sam: Vegetable, Hawaiian, Marinara. Sam, on the other hand, likes a good, classic, pepperoni. Perhaps something with chicken, if he’s feeling adventurous.

‘’I think the festival’s going to be fun. We get paid for being there, and we get to see other bands? We’re basically just getting paid to have a good time. And God knows you need to expand your musical horizons.’’

‘’What the hell does that mean?’’ Sebastian splutters. It makes Sam laugh. Making jabs at Sebastian about his music taste is a sure-fire way to irritate him. It’s not that his music taste is bad, per say — Just unadventurous. He’s been listening to the same bands since high school.

‘’I’m just saying, man. You might be the first dude in a band who hasn’t listened to any music that’s less than, like, ten years old, ever.’’

‘’Well, yeah. I know what I like, and everyone’s either dead, in prison, or mortal enemies with their bandmates now. It’s not my fault,’’ Sebastian mumbles, and flicks a slice of pepperoni at Sam. He hits it poorly, though, and it lands on the table.

‘’I wonder if any of us will ever become mortal enemies. You and Abby, or something. You’ll have at it and eventually end up despising each other. We’ll announce our break-up, and say that we had creative differences. Then, I’ll start a solo project that no one cares about, become a washed-up celebrity, and play one-fifty cap venues until I’m sixty,’’ Sam ponders, mostly word-vomiting. His words tend to get away from him. Ironic, because he’s an pretty poor lyricist.

Sebastian takes a bite of his pepperoni-less pizza, staring at Sam, visibly confused. Often, he needs a moment to process Sam’s ramblings before he’s able to respond to them. Sam speaks quickly, sometimes incoherently, sometimes without taking a moment to breathe. The words tangle themselves up in Sebastian’s brain, and it takes him time to unravel them. Although, the moment he does, he smiles and rolls his eyes.

‘’That’s stupid. Why is it me and Abby fighting? I feel like you and I would be way more likely to have a band-ruining fight.’’

Unfortunately, Sebastian’s probably correct. However, Sam knows that the potential reasons they’d cite for their hypothetical band-ruining fight would come from two entirely different universes. On Sebastian’s end, it genuinely would be something along the lines of creative differences. Or, Sam would simply irritate him too much. For Sam, it would be something much more emotional. Something he doesn’t want to think about.

‘’Maybe I’ll start picking fights with Shane for fun,’’ Sam shrugs.

‘’Fuck no. He’d literally end you. I guarantee you, that guy packs a punch. He’d hit you halfway across town.’’

The visual makes Sam laugh. It’s like something out of the strange fighting anime that Vincent watches. He can imagine it so clearly — Shane punching him in the stomach, sending him through the air, with him landing and leaving a meteorite-style crater. With any luck, he’d land on Clint’s house. Or even better, Mayor Lewis’. But, that’s dangerously close to Alex’s house, so maybe not. That poor dog doesn’t deserve to be annihilated by Shane’s cartoonishly dramatic strength.

‘’Sounds kinda hot, to be honest,’’ Sam jokes, through pre-existing giggles. ‘’Enemies to lovers. The closest thing you can get to gay sex without having it, is physically fighting a guy.’’

‘’I literally fucking hate you. How do you even come up with things like that?’’ Sebastian replies. He holds direct eye contact with Sam. At least, as direct as he can with his hair in his face.

‘’I’m smelling jealousy,’’ Sam winks playfully. Sebastian immediately breaks eye contact and shakes his head silently. Such a serious response, to such a silly joke. Sam could probably think about it for days, if he allowed himself to.

 

-

 

The grass on the cliffs is a little dewy, and makes Sam’s jeans damp. There are clouds in the sky, with very few visible stars. The hair resting against Sam’s forehead is irritating him, and his shoes are tied a little too tight. Really, he should be uncomfortable. Bordering on unhappy. But he’s cradling a can of Joja cola, and listening to the crackle exuding from the tip of Sebastian’s cigarette. The golden glow of burning tobacco brings warmth to an otherwise dull night. It can be a substitute for the stars. So, really, everything’s perfect. Sam’s got nothing to complain about.

‘’One day, you’ll smoke a cigarette with me. And you’ll enjoy it,’’ Sebastian says softly. It almost sounds like a threat, but one born from something softer. Sam leans back on his arm, and looks at Sebastian’s side profile. He’s always thought that something about Sebastian’s facial structure looks purposeful.

‘’I’m pretty sure I’m already half-dead from all the second-hand smoke. Plus, mom would kill me. She was mad enough that my clothes smelled like cigarettes from you smoking on the tour bus.’’

Sebastian looks up at the sky. It’s unremarkable. ‘’People like you are weird. The ones that will smoke weed, but act like cigarettes have some kind of… Moral inferiority.’’

‘’Weed is fun, and the smell doesn’t stick as much. All I get from smoking a cigarette is a cough and stinky fingernails,’’ Sam explains.

‘’Right. But it’s still bad for you. You can’t reject an offer of a cigarette for health reasons, and then smoke weed out of your bedroom window with your little brother next door.’’

Usually, Sam has a response for everything. A master of debate, or a person with a desperate need to have the final say in every conversation. Right now, though? He’s not nothing. Sebastian’s undeniably correct. Not correct enough to convince Sam to smoke a cigarette with him, but correct enough for him to withdraw from the conversation. Maybe Sebastian will get him one day, with a bottle of beer and a well-timed smile. That seems to be how it usually goes, for just about everything else.

Sebastian’s annoyingly charming. Sure, he can be anti-social, a little hateful, somewhat intimidating at times. But, he’s also well spoken, thoughtful, and gentle. Gentle in a way he wouldn’t want to admit. The kind of person to pick snails up from the footpath, and place them carefully into a bush. A small, ultimately insignificant act of humanity. It’s the kind of thing that’s easy to remember about someone.

Despite this, Sebastian still flicks his cigarette butt off the cliff and into the water, after stubbing it out on the tip of his boot. Again — Contradictory. Sam wishes he could remove Sebastian’s brain and study it. Attach it to wires, and find out how his thought process works. He wears his heart on his sleeve, but only on the underside. It’s evidently there, but difficult to touch. The faint outline of it raises more questions than it answers.

‘’I just think you’d look significantly cooler with a cigarette between your fingers. You have the vibe of a smoker, but nothing to seal the deal with,’’ Sebastian comments, after some silence. Then, he takes his jacket off, lays it down and lies on top of it. Sam, on the other hand, doesn’t move. In fact, he feels almost frozen.

If Sam was a thinking man, he’d look for the subliminals. He’d dive into Sebastian’s words, and pull the meaning of each of them out by a thread, letter by letter. Fortunately, he was never too good at analysis.

‘’I dunno, man. I’m pretty badass already.’’

Sebastian chuckles. ‘’You look badass. But, you’re not badass on the inside, I don’t think. That’s not an insult though. It’s quite nice, actually.’’

Sam doesn’t know if Sebastian says the things he does on purpose. It feels calculated, but Sam can’t place the legitimacy of that feeling. He could very well just be projecting. Trying to find things he wants to hear in the tone of Sebastian’s voice. Sebastian may wear his heart on his sleeve, but it doesn’t seep through into his words. It leaves Sam grasping for more — For something heavy that’s almost impossible to hold. Sebastian’s holding it entirely by himself. He allows it to weigh him down.

‘’Careful. If you’re too nice to me, I’ll start taking it personally.’’

Sebastian looks at Sam, with one of those smiles that are difficult to decipher. It’s not really a happy smile, but it’s not one of pity, either. It’s more a smile of acknowledgement. A smile that says, You’re ridiculous, but so am I. Truly, they are.

‘’Very funny, Sam,’’ Sebastian replies unceremoniously. Strange, because for once, Sam wasn’t trying to be. He means it very seriously, and could probably kiss Sebastian then and there. The urge to kiss Sebastian is kind of never-ending, but he can never quite tell if he’s allowed to or not. Whether Sebastian will reject his advances, or whether he’ll end up sucking Sam’s dick. There’s pretty much no in-between.

This feels like a date. Not that Sam’s been on many of those — People don’t tend to stick around for long enough to date him. But, Sebastian does. He takes Sam on bike rides, they watch movies together with Sebastian’s head on Sam’s shoulder, they share boxes of noodles and take naps in the same bed. Things that Sebastian’s only ever okay with when he’s the one to initiate them, because God forbid Sam gives a shit. The second he does, it’s game over. It’s the most exhausting thing in the world.

‘’I’m just saying,’’ Sam replies, and takes a sip out of the can of beer Sebastian bought for him. It’s his favourite, because they’ve known each other forever, and Sebastian remembers stuff like that. ‘’I dunno how to cope with kind, sincere Seb. It gives me whiplash.’’

‘’I’m an asshole,’’ Sebastian says, like it’s an objective fact.

‘’Sometimes,’’ Sam replies fondly. ‘’But I like you anyway. I wouldn’t have stuck around for so long if I didn’t.’’

He looks out across the cliff, at all the flickering lights of Zuzu city and the cloud that hangs above it. Sebastian’s assholery isn’t real assholery. He’s just a cactus person, and uses asshole behaviour to protect himself. Sam knows this — He was there for the breakdowns, the suicide attempts, the arguments with everyone who would be willing to reciprocate. Sebastian wasn’t an easy person to be around for a very long time, and even still, it can be difficult. Just for different reasons, now.

But, Sam stuck around, and so did Abby, because it wasn’t Sebastian’s fault. He was just dealt a bad card in the mental department. It didn’t, and doesn’t, make them love Sebastian less. Underneath the bullshit is just Sebastian, and that exact Sebastian is the one that Sam wants to kiss. It’s such a pain in the fucking ass.

 

Notes:

side note: the balcony by catfish and the bottlemen is a spiritually sambastian album

Chapter 6: Falling to Pieces

Notes:

The World Was a Mess but His Hair Was Perfect - The Rakes

The ride back to Pelican Town isn’t as fun as the one they took out of it. Sam sits on the back of the bike, arms around Sebastian’s waist, face pressed against his back. But, it’s not the kind of physical contact Sam wants. It’s a type brought upon by necessity and functionality, as opposed to either of them wanting it — Like sitting next to his best friends in high school, but not being able to talk to them because they’re all taking a test. Tests which Sam almost always failed, because he was never very good at academics. Good thing the band worked out. Kind of.

The night smells nice, but that might just be Sebastian. The night feels like something more than it is, but that might just be Sebastian too. The leather and tobacco and tentative, barely-there love just seeps into the air around them, unavoidable even while driving at high speeds through a rocky country lane. Sam’s mom would kill him if she knew the things he gets up to in the dead of night while she’s sound asleep, even at his adult age. She’ll never stop treating him like her baby, for better or for worse.

Sam thinks of her, while Sebastian pulls up to his house and turns the bike off. The silence of the engine makes their surroundings feel impossibly empty — No neon lights, no hum of people, no car alarms or sirens or faint, unplaceable music. Just the faint rustling of bushes, an occasional splash from a fish in the lake, and the sound of Sebastian’s keys jingling as he pulls them out of the ignition and into his pocket. Then he gets off the bike, and when Sam does the same, Sebastian turns to look at him. Sam’s seen that face so many times.

‘’You wanna come in?’’ Sebastian asks, with a faux-casual tone that he’s spent years perfecting.

Sam knows that what means. Sebastian may as well be looking at him with sparkly anime-girl eyes and nervously kicking the floor. Instead, his hands are in the pockets of his jacket, and he looks away from Sam the second he makes eye contact. It means, I want to hang out with you. I don’t want the night to end. I want to have sex with you. A million things, really, but all of them are things that Sam isn’t emotionally prepared for. They’re all things that Sam will give into, because of Sebastian’s sweet, dark eyes, and things that will cause issues between them tomorrow. Whatever.

‘’Sure,’’ He replies lightly. A faux-lightness, that he’s spent years perfecting. One that Sebastian is the sole recipient of, because Sam never needs to act that way around anybody else.

Sebastian quickly turns around, before Sam gets the chance to see him smile, and heads towards the house. Everything feels kind of awkward and off-kilter, despite the fact that they’ve done this a million times. They’ll get inside, and Sebastian will press Sam into the front door, and shush him before placing hungry kisses to his shoulder. A few steps to the bedroom is a few steps too many, and as a result, Sebastian will intermittently look over his shoulder to make sure no one’s coming. Except for Sam, obviously, who will cum into Sebastian’s hand and try to pretend that he doesn’t care.

He does, though. He cares so much. He just wishes that Sebastian would, too.

At least he’ll get the kiss he wants. Not in the way he wants, but it’ll be a kiss nonetheless. He’ll walk home thinking about it, silently tuck himself into bed, and pull the blankets all the way up to his face. Then, he’ll hope that things will be different the next time. They never are.

Except, this time, when Sebastian closes the front door, he hooks his pinky finger around Sam’s, and guides him into the basement. No hunger, no desperation, not even a finger pressed against either of their lips. Just footsteps, the click of the bedroom door, and Sebastian falling into his bed and sighing. Maybe he’s learned how to control himself. Maybe Sam won’t get that kiss after all.

‘’I’m exhausted,’’ He says, and pulls at the laces of his boots.

‘’I can go,’’ Sam suggests. Despite that, though, he still makes himself at home, opposite Sebastian on the other end of the bed, and turns the bedside lamp on. He knows that Sebastian is going to say no. He always does. And, as if on queue, Sebastian shakes his head.

‘’You’re good,’’ He says. ‘’I’m always exhausted. I haven’t had a decent sleep schedule since I was like, fifteen.’’

‘’Gremlin,’’ Sam comments in response, and Sebastian smiles at him. Not an, I’m irritated but trying to hide my amusement smile, but one of fondness. As though Sam’s playful quip was just as expected as Sebastian declining Sam’s offer to go home. Comfort in predictability, even though the night hasn’t quite ended how Sam expected it to. There’s still time, he supposes. Maybe it’s just beginning.

‘’Goblin,’’ Sebastian corrects him quietly. ‘’Goblin destroyers.’’

‘’I’m gonna throw something at you,’’ Sam warns, and Sebastian laughs at him. He pulls his knees up into himself, the rip in the knee of his jeans tearing just a little more, and rests his chin atop the bare skin underneath the rip. His stupid emo bangs cover his eyes, but Sam knows that Sebastian is looking at him through them. Sebastian’s gaze is unmissable.

In theory, Sam could just kiss him. But, perhaps, that would just make him as bad as Sebastian. Things between them are complicated as it is, and Sam making the first move would just complicate things further. They’re supposed to just be friends. Friends that are lifelong, soul-tied. Ones that know everything about each other, good and bad, to a level that makes their current situation extortionately difficult. If he kisses Sebastian with no ulterior motives, things change. Sebastian’s always been pretty averse to change.

If nothing changes, things stay simple — True to Sebastian’s warped, fucked-up definition of what simple is. However, Sam’s beginning to think that if nothing changes, he might die. Spontaneous combustion, or potentially just straight-up explosion. At this point, Sam’s not sure he could ever be happy with anyone else. Hook-ups and one night stands and flirting with people in venues is fun, but Sebastian feels like home. That’s what his dad always said about his mom, too.

‘’Do you ever think about it?’’ Sam asks Sebastian quietly, not looking at him.

Sebastian cocks his head, and returns back to his original sitting position with his legs crossed. ‘’Think about what?’’

‘’You know what,’’ Sam tells him, because he does. Sam’s so sure that he does. He’s also sure that Sebastian thinks about it, but getting him to admit it will be like getting blood from a stone. He’s so stubborn, so unwilling to talk about anything even close to romance. He cringes at Abby and Haley, even despite how much he cares about them. He’s just… One of those people who are above romance. Above relationships, above being vulnerable and sappy. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think about it.

‘’I don’t—’’

‘’Seb.’’

With that, Sebastian sighs and runs his hand through his hair. The rings on his fingers catch Sam’s attention, the chipped black nail polish blending in with the thick black of Sebastian’s hair. He has the most attractive hands. Long, slender fingers, as is standard for a keyboardist and bass player. Really, though, everything abut him is attractive, and Sam’s not convinced he even knows it. Famously insecure, happy to stand silently at the back of the stage, completely oblivious to people hitting on him after shows. Never much of a talker.

‘’I can’t,’’ Sebastian replies exasperation in his voice. ‘’You don’t understand, Sam, it’s not—’’

Sebastian cuts himself off, and they look at each other in silence for a moment. They’ve had this conversation before, and it never ends well. But, maybe if Sam keeps poking, something will eventually come out of it one day. Sebastian’s just too protective of himself and their friendship for his own good. Adverse to change.

‘’We just can’t,’’ Sebastian tells him, trying to put a pin in the conversation. ‘’You know we can’t.’’

‘’Do I?’’ Sam asks, and Sebastian frowns at him. Such a familiar frown. ‘’How old were we, Seb? Do you remember?’’

Sebastian sighs, and readjusts his sitting position again. He’s not usually so fidgety. ‘’I don’t know… sixteen?’’

Sixteen fucking years old. Is anyone on Earth still in a relationship with the person they were with at sixteen? Are any relationships good at that age, or are they all destined the burn into flames, the ash being blown away by the wind? Sixteen. Sixteen. Literally nothing is good at that age. No one enjoys being sixteen.

They were each others’ first kiss. Each others’ first time. Each others’ first horrific, world-ending breakup. But, it’s impossible to avoid each other in a place like Pelican Town, so they got over it. Never talked about it again, until the last couple of years. And now, the façade is slipping, and they both know it, and Sam wants to kiss Sebastian so badly. Stupid, stubborn, avoidant Sebastian. His best friend, his worst enemy, his soulmate. The most confusing man to ever live.

‘’Right,’’ Sam replies. ‘’It’s been ten years. Everyone’s a fuckin’ dumbass when they’re sixteen, bro.’’

‘’We can’t keep having this conversation, Sam,’’ Sebastian pleads. They can, in fact, keep having this conversation. Sam could have it until the stars fall from the sky. It’s just that Sebastian doesn’t want to. Instead, he wants to pretend that their entire relationship means nothing. That having sex in the bathrooms of bars means nothing. That taking Sam out on the bike and buying him dinner and sitting under the night sky together means absolutely fucking nothing.

‘’But we are,’’ Sam doubles down. ‘’Cus for once, you didn’t bring me here to have sex with me. So… What? You just wanted my company? You tend to avoid me nowadays.’’

‘’Sam,’’ Sebastian retorts as a warning.

‘’Seb,’’ Sam replies, just as seriously. He’s happy to play the game. Sebastian may be stubborn, but Sam is persistent. That’s how they found themselves in the band in the first place, after all.

More pointed eye contact follows. They’re in a stand-off, guns pointed at each other’s heads, both trying to decide whether they should shoot first or not. No one ever wants to be the perpetrator, and no one ever wants to be the victim. To lie dead in the middle of town is an admission of defeat, and for Sam to enthusiastically let Sebastian top him again is one, too. To fall asleep in Sebastian’s bed, and walk home in one of his hoodies the next morning. Caring is defeat, not caring is defeat, and barely-existent ignorance is all they’ve got left. Life is easier in the spotlight.

Sebastian sighs, and looks away briefly. After a mere few seconds of contemplation, however, he looks back to Sam and asks, ‘’Can I kiss you?’’

‘’Are you going to be an asshole about it tomorrow?’’ Sam asks, biting back a smile. Caring is defeat.

‘’No,’’ Sebastian assures him. When has Sebastian ever given Sam a reason to disbelieve him?

Many times. But that’s not the point. So, Sam nods, and meets Sebastian in the middle. He ignores the warmth of his face when Sebastian cups his jaw, and ignores the sadness that lingers. All they can ever do is meet in the middle, because otherwise, they’ll never agree on anything.

Notes:

the next time i upload a chapter i'll be living in japan #whatever

Chapter 7: Rock n' Roll Band

Notes:

Rock n' Roll Band - 12 Rods

hi! sorry for the wait for this chapter! i've had a lot going on! ragghhhh!

Sebastian was, in fact, an asshole about it the next day. Sam should have expected it, really, but it’s been almost a week, and Sebastian is still being an asshole. Being moody at band practice, not looking in Sam’s direction, not answering calls. It seems as though the bad mood he usually targets towards Sam has expanded in every direction, and today’s band practice feels like hell on Earth.

‘’Fuck sake,’’ Sebastian mumbles to himself after messing up a bass riff for the fourth time. In perfect unison, everyone turns to look at him — It’s the first thing he’s said in two hours.

‘’Dude, what’s with you today?’’ Abby asks. The glare that Sebastian gives her in response could probably wipe out a small country.

‘’Shut up, Abby. Just give me a second,’’ He grumbles in response, while looking down and twisting the tuning pegs of his bass. A little concerned, Sam looks over to Shane, who grimaces at him. The whole day has been a mess, and Sam’s starting to think they should probably call it quits. Maybe he could spend the evening with Kenny. Someone who isn’t tangled up with band drama, if it can even be called that.

He feels a little guilty. It’s his fault that Sebastian’s in a bad mood, probably. Obviously it wasn’t just a kiss, because it never is. Instead, it was shared breath, skin touching skin, giggling and holding hands and falling asleep in each others’ arms after Sebastian gave Sam a final kiss on the forehead. It’s bad. Hugely, catastrophically awful — A vague, unlabelled relationship that’s about to hit breaking point. Maybe it already has, and all because Sam doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. Doesn’t know how to say no. Doesn’t want to say no, despite how often Abby and Shane keep telling him to. They’ll definitely know that this is Sam’s fault.

But, what’s the phrase? It takes two to tango?

In frustration, Sebastian pulls the strap over his head and places the bass in it’s stand, before glaring at everyone again. ‘’What?’’

Abby presses her lips together, closes her eyes and takes a breath, before carefully placing her drumsticks atop the snare. The glare she sends back to Sebastian isn’t as malicious, but it’s very Abby. By any means, it’s not a stare that Sam would ever like to be on the receiving end of. She’s irritated, and it takes a lot to truly irritate her.

‘’How can I put this…’’ Abby ponders, clasping her hands together. ‘’You need to get a grip. You’re bringing the vibe down, man. Big time. No one can practice in these conditions.’’

Sebastian opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, Shane interrupts. ‘’She’s right, Seb. You’re vampire-ing. What’s going on?’’

That’s a stupid question, Sam thinks. It’s not like he and Sebastian’s situation, whatever that may be, is a secret. Sebastian’s definitely not going to tell him what the problem is, and more than two seconds of thinking would lead Shane to the obvious, logical conclusion.

The whole thing is just so awkward. The fact that Sebastian keeps doing this is awkward, and the fact that Sam keeps falling for him despite it all is worse. He needs to learn how to say no. He needs to learn how to avoid Sebastian in matters that don’t involve the band, or innocent friendship. But, those situations cause complications too. What’ll stop them from wordlessly flirting with each other between songs, when the stage lights go dark and the crowd goes silent? Nothing, probably. The whole thing is vicious.

Sebastian groans, and leans back against the wall. ‘’Nothing’s going on. You guys are just weirdly obsessed with the way I feel at any given moment. Whatever.''

Sam observes Abby and Shane immediately sharing a look with each other, and then Abby looks to Sam with her eyebrows furrowed, as if to suggest that he should be contributing to the conversation. Doing so, however, would make him a hypocrite. This is all his fault, after all. Kind of. In practice, but maybe not in theory. In theory, Sebastian could just… Not be like that. Sam manages it.

‘‘Obviously we’re going to be obsessed with it when we’re trying to like, have a thing going on here. We do, in fact, have shit going on, in case you couldn’t tell,’’ Abby eventually decides to reply, sarcasm seeping through her voice.

‘‘No fucking way. Really? You should have told me earlier,’’ Sebastian retorts, totally deadpan, with his arms crossed over his chest. Still in a hoodie in the height of summer, skinny jeans enveloping his legs, his cheeks slightly pink from catching the sun. Still, Sam feels fondly towards Sebastian while he’s behaving like this. Despite this, despite literally everything, Sam still feels fondly towards him. Wants to touch the pink of his cheeks and tease him for being so pale. Wants to rub his arm in comfort and tell him to take a nap, like a mother with her tantrum-tired child.

‘‘You need to sort your bullshit out and co-operate,’’ Abby continues. ‘‘No one can get anything done when you’re being moody like this!’’

‘‘Whatever, Abs. I’m gonna go. Practice without me. Who gives a shit,’’ Sebastian grumbles and stomps away, leaving his guitar and amp wires behind. It leaves the rest of the band in a heavy silence, looking at the door, which Sebastian didn’t close behind him.

This kind of thing has happened before. Sebastian being moody, bickering with Abby as though they were siblings, and causing Shane to rub his face with his hands exasperatedly. What he doesn’t usually do, though, is bail on practice altogether. He usually cares more than that, can see the error in his ways, apologises and moves on. But, not this time. Something broke the camel’s back, and the second that Abby whips her head around and points at Sam, he knows that he’s going to be the scapegoat.

‘‘Uh, what the fuck was that?’’ Abby asks Sam. It sounds like an accusation.

‘‘I—’’ Sam starts, trying to figure out what the hell he’s supposed to respond with. Really, Abby has a point. What was that? ‘‘… don’t really know.’’

Abby lifts her hands up, her eyebrows still so furrowed that the space between her eyebrows almost looks like a mountain range. ‘‘What do you mean, you don’t know? You must know something. He only acts like this when—’’

‘‘Oh, lay off it, Abby,’’ Shane decides to interrupt. In that moment, he feels like a knight in shining armour to Sam, sweeping in to pick him up on a horse and placing a helmet of armour over his head.

Starting a band with his best friend and the guy he’s been borderline in love with for half of his life sounded like a great idea to Sam, initially. Sometimes it still does — It evidently worked — Until things like this happen. And, when they inevitably do, Shane is the only voice of reason they have left. He’s older, wiser, more business-minded, and has a hell of a lot more patience for bullshit than Abby and Sebastian do. Sam, on the other hand, doesn’t even have a college degree. Only batshit crazy ambition and the ability to wrangle a guitar.

Wrangling Sebastian is exponentially more difficult.

‘‘I’m right, though, am I not?’’ Abby asks.

‘‘Well, yeah, but that’s hardly Sam’s fault,’’ Shane attempts to neutralise the situation. ‘‘Seb could just… not. Y’know?’’

‘Yeah, but Sam’s not stupid. He could also just not,’’ Abby replies, referring to Sam as though he isn’t in the same room.

‘‘In my defence, he told me he wouldn’t be an asshole about it this time,’’ Sam jumps in to defend himself. ‘‘I literally asked him, are you gonna be an asshole about it tomorrow?, and he said no. So, like…’’

Sam shrugs, lost at what else to say. He doesn’t know the ins and outs of Sebastian’s mind, and he doesn’t know why Sebastian does the things he does. All he can do is explain himself, and that’s not something he’s really interested in doing. It would make him look like a loser, because God forbid he believes the things Sebastian says to him. God forbid he has a shred of hope that things won’t implode. God forbid he has that batshit crazy ambition.

Though — Could he learn? Yes. Does he want to, however? Not particularly. Things are always so nice while they last. Sebastian will bounce back. He always does.

Abby rubs her temples with her fingers and sighs deeply, before pushing herself up from her stool and standing in front of Sam and Shane.

‘‘Our festival slot is in a few days, and it’s our last show of the summer, so: New rules. Sam, you are not to hook up with Sebastian until after then. Or preferably ever, but like… Keep it in your pants, alright? I don’t want the band to fucking implode because of both of your stupid idiot teenage behaviour.’’

‘‘… And Shane’s rule?’’ Sam asks sheepishly.

‘‘Shane, you’re doing great. No notes,’’ Abby turns and grins at Shane, who sends a singular appreciative nod in her direction.

Sam can’t help but feeling a little hard done by. He wasn’t planning on hooking up with Sebastian again any time soon — Sebastian won’t even look in his direction — But it’s the principle of it all. Maybe it’s Sam’s fault, maybe it’s Seb’s, or maybe it really does take two to tango.

The band was all he wanted. In a way, Sebastian was too. And everything is so fucking complicated. All Sam knows how to do is wrangle a guitar.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 6 of The BWBBverse!