Fic: Midnight Decisions and Shutting Doors
Midnight Decisions and Shutting Doors
do_come_in
Mike's not sure exactly how he's meant to fix things, but he's fairly sure that it starts with Adam.
Mike flings the door shut behind him, hitting his arm on the door frame as he does so. He swears, too loudly for a hotel hallway at two in the morning, but he's just slammed a door, so there's going to be complaints whatever he does. He waits for a minute, going back to the door twice. He only ends up thumping his hand against it, hitting harder every time that he does it.
He doesn't know where to go or what to do, which is why he's wandering the streets of this tiny little town just north of Indianapolis at god knows what hour. Mike's sober now, but he keeps walking. He's already lost, so what's the point in stopping?
There's a bench just up the road and no-one's on it, so Mike makes his way there. He hasn't really been thinking about anything, just walking, because thinking about the past isn't easy for him. He doesn't like to look back on things, because hindsight isn't kind to Mike. The way he acted, the things that seemed right in that moment no longer feel like they are.
He sits down and looks at the sky, but all he can see is Adam as he pushed him away. The younger man's body was flushed, and his hair was more of a mess than usual. It's all Mike can do not to drop his face into his hands. He doesn't know why he does it, why he keeps letting Adam get close, so close that Mike has to get away. It's not that the younger man is suffocating, more that Mike is suffocated.
There's been months of this, but this is the worst night. Mike's never actually left the room before. He can't think straight, and there are all these people in his head, and it's getting so loud. Then there's someone sitting next to him.
Mike goes to leave, thinking it's a drunken party goer, or a homeless person - not that he hates either one of them, it's just that he'd rather not be with a complete stranger whilst he's despairing. But then the other person grabs his arm. It's Tony, and he points to a little car across the road. They don't really say anything, because everyone knows by this point. Everyone knows. And Mike's not really sure if he's alright with that.
As they approach it, Mike can see Adam sitting in the back. He's not looking at Mike, but the older man can see Bill wrapped around him, and he can see the tears on his cheeks. That's just about all Mike can take. He does the only thing he thinks of doing right in that moment in time, which is copy what he saw Tom do. He pulls away from Tony and doesn't say anything when Butcher asks him what happened. Mike just shrinks down in his seat and lets Tony drive them back to the hotel.
**
No-one says anything for a while, because they all know what Mike can be like when he's upset or angry. They don't want to be the one caught in the line of fire. But Adam's not talking to him and the rest of the band are only talking to him because they are in a band together. Mike doesn't want to think about Tom, and what it felt like being on the other side of the argument, knowing that you were the one that was right. He's called Tom almost every day since that night, because Mike knows when to give in. It's just that usually he doesn't have to, or he can prolong it. Now, it's getting to the point where the rest of the band stops talking when he walks into the room.
He's had enough, and his tech knows this more than anyone. He's been breaking strings on stage, and not bothering to fix them himself. He can't keep his mind on the restringing, he gets half way through then needs to stop because he gets angry at his fingers. He can't really focus on anything, which is strange. Music has always been something to hide away in, to envelop himself in. It's just for him to mould and use as he wishes.
But slowly, it's becoming something that he has no control over, that's just part of his life, not part of him anymore. And Mike doesn't know how to take that. He can't write, he can't just strum away at his guitar. Bill's songs are programmed into him, but Mike can't seem to play for himself.
He's sitting in the front room of the bus, trying to think of a way to change The Phrases that Pay into something different, but the chords slip under his fingers every time he tries to change the song. Bill is leaning against the worktop, watching him. Mike doesn't worry about him, he's been in the room longer than the other man and Bill's seen him in a much worse condition than he is now. He was there for the time that Mike cut all the strings on his favourite guitar and when he took a hammer to his bedroom wall. Mike doesn't deal well with stress.
"Mike, you need to sort this out." Bill says, finally, after Mike pushes the guitar away and presses his fingers to his eyes. "I love you, man, but we can't go on like this. Do whatever you need to do, just fix it." Mike expects him to leave, but he doesn't. He just stays, staring at the other man until he nods, unsure of what else there is to do.
"Ok."
**
Mike's not sure exactly how he's meant to fix things, but he's fairly sure that it starts with Adam. They don't have much time alone, because Butcher has seen to it that Adam is never alone. Somehow, and gods only knows how, he manages to convince Bill that sharing a room with Adam is an important part of fixing things. He thinks it was the pixie stix that swayed him.
Adam doesn't look away from the TV when Mike throws his bag on the bed, just mumbles something about the first shower and turns it off. Mike doesn't think that the younger man has noticed that it's not Bill that just came in.
It's only when Adam turns round to go to the bathroom that he sees Mike. He doesn't stop moving, or gasp, but the door slams shut and then Mike's alone. He sits in silence for a while, before realising that it's not just the white noise in his ears that he's listening to. There's a faint sound, over the top of the rush of water from the shower that he can hear. It's not something he's expecting at all.
Adam is crying.
Mike watches the clock, and he knows when Adam stops crying and how long it takes for him to turn off the shower. He knows how long he stays in the bathroom before unlocking the door and how long it takes for him to open the door. Adam doesn't say anything, just goes to lie down on his bed. Staring at his back, Mike gets a feeling that he hasn't had for so long that it's almost unfamiliar.
There's an acoustic in the corner, god knows why, but it's there. And Mike picks it up, sitting down to strum it where it was propped against the wall. Then there's melody and songs and he's finally playing something that's just his.
It takes him a while to find the words to fit, but when he does, there's only a few that he actually wants to say. When he looks up from the guitar, not expecting anything, just wanting to stare into space, Adam is looking at him. They hold eye contact as Mike slowly stops strumming. There's not an end to the song, just as there wasn't really a beginning, but they both know that it doesn't matter. The older man smiles a little, shrugging and moving the guitar away.
"That was…"
"Look, I…" They both start to speak at the same time, and Mike watches Adam duck his head. "Look, I was a jerk. I just… I have problems. Mostly with you and you being close to me." It feels almost a relief to be able to say it to Adam, to get it off his chest. But the younger man looks angry.
"Why? Why do you have problems with me? It's only ever fucking me. Jesus Christ, Mike. I thought you'd understand, even if you didn't…" He drifts off, stopping himself in mid flow. Then when he sees that Mike's still there, that he's not a dream, he starts again. His voice changes, becoming quieter, softer and Mike almost has to strain to hear. "Even if you didn't feel like that." Mike watches Adam push his hands through where his hair should be, and thoughts pop into his mind. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of them, trying to focus on this Adam. "I know you're not gay. And that's ok. But I didn't think you'd run away when I tried to hug you."
"I didn't run away, I just left. You're… you're so fucking… perfect. And you've been jailbait the entire fucking time. What am I meant to do with that?" Adam looks taken aback, and Mike thinks about not telling him, but there's so much at stake that he might as well go all in. "You remember that day that I met you? When you were tiny and Bill's best mate's little brother, instead of just his best mate. I was just this awkward teenager, with a guitar and a head full of stupid dreams. A few of those clouds floated away when you came into the picture, which confused the fuck out of me. You were too young, too pretty, too everything I never wanted up until right then. It's kind of been like that ever since.
"I left because there's wasn't anything else I could do. I couldn't stay because staying would mean doing this." Mike presses his fingers to his eyes and continues. "It would mean explaining to you how fucking deep I'm in it, over you."
He puts the guitar down against the wall and looks back up at Adam once again. The younger man is sitting up against the headboard, staring at his fingers. The bed clothes to the side of him are turned down, an intentional invitation. Mike gets up and walks towards the bed, not getting in until Adam tugs the covers once again. They sit next to each other for a while before Mike flicks the switch and lies down. Adam does the same, facing him but not touching. They lay together, stiff and uncomfortable, until Adam shifts his body close to Mike's. The older man waits a few seconds to see if he'll stay there, to see if he can bring himself to move any closer. But he's tired and uncomfortable and there's an easy way to fix that. Mike lays his arm across Adam's waist and they fall asleep like that.
In the morning, Adam picks up the guitar and takes it downstairs with them. He doesn't mention it to Mike, but the older man knows the look that Bill gives him when Adam hands the guitar back silently. He's not impressed with Mike, but the other man thinks that he just doesn't understand yet.
They don't really speak, but Adam sits next to him at breakfast and they walk to the bus together. The rest of the band look on but don't pass comment, especially not when Adam gets into his bunk and closes himself off from the rest of the world, including Mike.
Bill and the others don't talk to him; they just get on the bus and file into the back room. Mike sits there and does what he does every day, fight or not. He plays Donkey Kong today, because he has energy that's going to frustrate him when he tries to write later. It's not an assumption he makes, Mike knows he will get his guitar and try and find the melody that he played for Adam.
After fifteen minutes, Michael comes out and reaches for the other controller. Mike doesn't know what he's reaching for at first and just stares blankly at the other man until he offers it up. The others crowd into the room and suddenly Donkey Kong is a game support. Bill has Mike's nun-chuk and it doing all he can to make their 'team' win. Adam is sitting the other side of the older man, knees folded to his chest. He's leaning very gently to one side, and Mike's sure that Bill knows this.
They laugh and play as if the last few weeks didn't happen, until Mike gets tired and decides that it's time to get his guitar. He taps Adam's knees before he gets up, which earns a wolf whistle from Bill and that in turn earns Bill a punch from Michael.
As a band, they seem to have decided that whatever was going on has been sorted out, but Mike knows that there's a big talk coming, even if it's not just for him.
**
Adam has been sitting with Mike every day as he writes, sometimes finding the bass line and sometimes distracting him with inane questions. Mike's quite happy for him to do this, but he's just waiting for the moment when Adam decides that he's too much work.
The dressing room is clear every night after the show because Michael is off doing something with other bands, Bill is out signing autographs and Andy seems to have a habit of disappearing at opportune moments. Mike usually sits on his own, drinks water and makes himself come down from the high of the stage. It's what he's grown used to doing, over the years, but he's not used to Adam joining him.
It's the first time in a long while that they have spent time completely alone, in a room where the door locks and no-one has to come in if they don't want them to. Even at the hotel, Bill had an extra key, just in case.
Adam is sitting next to him so that their sides touch, but that's just enough. Hands don't need to be held, thighs don't need to be stroked. It's just comfortable.
They don't talk, but Adam is facing Mike and it's taking all of the older man's self control not to look back. Because if he does, their faces will be this close and then… He turns his head.
Apparently Adam has had the same idea, because their lips are touching. Mike pulls away a little, but touches Adam's hand gently as he does so. He's not letting go, just moving to get a better angle. When they kiss again, the tenderness is still there. In good time, they both move away, just barely. Their foreheads touch and their bodies are pressed together.
Mike decides this is a much better way to come down from the stage high.
do_come_in
Mike's not sure exactly how he's meant to fix things, but he's fairly sure that it starts with Adam.
Mike flings the door shut behind him, hitting his arm on the door frame as he does so. He swears, too loudly for a hotel hallway at two in the morning, but he's just slammed a door, so there's going to be complaints whatever he does. He waits for a minute, going back to the door twice. He only ends up thumping his hand against it, hitting harder every time that he does it.
He doesn't know where to go or what to do, which is why he's wandering the streets of this tiny little town just north of Indianapolis at god knows what hour. Mike's sober now, but he keeps walking. He's already lost, so what's the point in stopping?
There's a bench just up the road and no-one's on it, so Mike makes his way there. He hasn't really been thinking about anything, just walking, because thinking about the past isn't easy for him. He doesn't like to look back on things, because hindsight isn't kind to Mike. The way he acted, the things that seemed right in that moment no longer feel like they are.
He sits down and looks at the sky, but all he can see is Adam as he pushed him away. The younger man's body was flushed, and his hair was more of a mess than usual. It's all Mike can do not to drop his face into his hands. He doesn't know why he does it, why he keeps letting Adam get close, so close that Mike has to get away. It's not that the younger man is suffocating, more that Mike is suffocated.
There's been months of this, but this is the worst night. Mike's never actually left the room before. He can't think straight, and there are all these people in his head, and it's getting so loud. Then there's someone sitting next to him.
Mike goes to leave, thinking it's a drunken party goer, or a homeless person - not that he hates either one of them, it's just that he'd rather not be with a complete stranger whilst he's despairing. But then the other person grabs his arm. It's Tony, and he points to a little car across the road. They don't really say anything, because everyone knows by this point. Everyone knows. And Mike's not really sure if he's alright with that.
As they approach it, Mike can see Adam sitting in the back. He's not looking at Mike, but the older man can see Bill wrapped around him, and he can see the tears on his cheeks. That's just about all Mike can take. He does the only thing he thinks of doing right in that moment in time, which is copy what he saw Tom do. He pulls away from Tony and doesn't say anything when Butcher asks him what happened. Mike just shrinks down in his seat and lets Tony drive them back to the hotel.
**
No-one says anything for a while, because they all know what Mike can be like when he's upset or angry. They don't want to be the one caught in the line of fire. But Adam's not talking to him and the rest of the band are only talking to him because they are in a band together. Mike doesn't want to think about Tom, and what it felt like being on the other side of the argument, knowing that you were the one that was right. He's called Tom almost every day since that night, because Mike knows when to give in. It's just that usually he doesn't have to, or he can prolong it. Now, it's getting to the point where the rest of the band stops talking when he walks into the room.
He's had enough, and his tech knows this more than anyone. He's been breaking strings on stage, and not bothering to fix them himself. He can't keep his mind on the restringing, he gets half way through then needs to stop because he gets angry at his fingers. He can't really focus on anything, which is strange. Music has always been something to hide away in, to envelop himself in. It's just for him to mould and use as he wishes.
But slowly, it's becoming something that he has no control over, that's just part of his life, not part of him anymore. And Mike doesn't know how to take that. He can't write, he can't just strum away at his guitar. Bill's songs are programmed into him, but Mike can't seem to play for himself.
He's sitting in the front room of the bus, trying to think of a way to change The Phrases that Pay into something different, but the chords slip under his fingers every time he tries to change the song. Bill is leaning against the worktop, watching him. Mike doesn't worry about him, he's been in the room longer than the other man and Bill's seen him in a much worse condition than he is now. He was there for the time that Mike cut all the strings on his favourite guitar and when he took a hammer to his bedroom wall. Mike doesn't deal well with stress.
"Mike, you need to sort this out." Bill says, finally, after Mike pushes the guitar away and presses his fingers to his eyes. "I love you, man, but we can't go on like this. Do whatever you need to do, just fix it." Mike expects him to leave, but he doesn't. He just stays, staring at the other man until he nods, unsure of what else there is to do.
"Ok."
**
Mike's not sure exactly how he's meant to fix things, but he's fairly sure that it starts with Adam. They don't have much time alone, because Butcher has seen to it that Adam is never alone. Somehow, and gods only knows how, he manages to convince Bill that sharing a room with Adam is an important part of fixing things. He thinks it was the pixie stix that swayed him.
Adam doesn't look away from the TV when Mike throws his bag on the bed, just mumbles something about the first shower and turns it off. Mike doesn't think that the younger man has noticed that it's not Bill that just came in.
It's only when Adam turns round to go to the bathroom that he sees Mike. He doesn't stop moving, or gasp, but the door slams shut and then Mike's alone. He sits in silence for a while, before realising that it's not just the white noise in his ears that he's listening to. There's a faint sound, over the top of the rush of water from the shower that he can hear. It's not something he's expecting at all.
Adam is crying.
Mike watches the clock, and he knows when Adam stops crying and how long it takes for him to turn off the shower. He knows how long he stays in the bathroom before unlocking the door and how long it takes for him to open the door. Adam doesn't say anything, just goes to lie down on his bed. Staring at his back, Mike gets a feeling that he hasn't had for so long that it's almost unfamiliar.
There's an acoustic in the corner, god knows why, but it's there. And Mike picks it up, sitting down to strum it where it was propped against the wall. Then there's melody and songs and he's finally playing something that's just his.
It takes him a while to find the words to fit, but when he does, there's only a few that he actually wants to say. When he looks up from the guitar, not expecting anything, just wanting to stare into space, Adam is looking at him. They hold eye contact as Mike slowly stops strumming. There's not an end to the song, just as there wasn't really a beginning, but they both know that it doesn't matter. The older man smiles a little, shrugging and moving the guitar away.
"That was…"
"Look, I…" They both start to speak at the same time, and Mike watches Adam duck his head. "Look, I was a jerk. I just… I have problems. Mostly with you and you being close to me." It feels almost a relief to be able to say it to Adam, to get it off his chest. But the younger man looks angry.
"Why? Why do you have problems with me? It's only ever fucking me. Jesus Christ, Mike. I thought you'd understand, even if you didn't…" He drifts off, stopping himself in mid flow. Then when he sees that Mike's still there, that he's not a dream, he starts again. His voice changes, becoming quieter, softer and Mike almost has to strain to hear. "Even if you didn't feel like that." Mike watches Adam push his hands through where his hair should be, and thoughts pop into his mind. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of them, trying to focus on this Adam. "I know you're not gay. And that's ok. But I didn't think you'd run away when I tried to hug you."
"I didn't run away, I just left. You're… you're so fucking… perfect. And you've been jailbait the entire fucking time. What am I meant to do with that?" Adam looks taken aback, and Mike thinks about not telling him, but there's so much at stake that he might as well go all in. "You remember that day that I met you? When you were tiny and Bill's best mate's little brother, instead of just his best mate. I was just this awkward teenager, with a guitar and a head full of stupid dreams. A few of those clouds floated away when you came into the picture, which confused the fuck out of me. You were too young, too pretty, too everything I never wanted up until right then. It's kind of been like that ever since.
"I left because there's wasn't anything else I could do. I couldn't stay because staying would mean doing this." Mike presses his fingers to his eyes and continues. "It would mean explaining to you how fucking deep I'm in it, over you."
He puts the guitar down against the wall and looks back up at Adam once again. The younger man is sitting up against the headboard, staring at his fingers. The bed clothes to the side of him are turned down, an intentional invitation. Mike gets up and walks towards the bed, not getting in until Adam tugs the covers once again. They sit next to each other for a while before Mike flicks the switch and lies down. Adam does the same, facing him but not touching. They lay together, stiff and uncomfortable, until Adam shifts his body close to Mike's. The older man waits a few seconds to see if he'll stay there, to see if he can bring himself to move any closer. But he's tired and uncomfortable and there's an easy way to fix that. Mike lays his arm across Adam's waist and they fall asleep like that.
In the morning, Adam picks up the guitar and takes it downstairs with them. He doesn't mention it to Mike, but the older man knows the look that Bill gives him when Adam hands the guitar back silently. He's not impressed with Mike, but the other man thinks that he just doesn't understand yet.
They don't really speak, but Adam sits next to him at breakfast and they walk to the bus together. The rest of the band look on but don't pass comment, especially not when Adam gets into his bunk and closes himself off from the rest of the world, including Mike.
Bill and the others don't talk to him; they just get on the bus and file into the back room. Mike sits there and does what he does every day, fight or not. He plays Donkey Kong today, because he has energy that's going to frustrate him when he tries to write later. It's not an assumption he makes, Mike knows he will get his guitar and try and find the melody that he played for Adam.
After fifteen minutes, Michael comes out and reaches for the other controller. Mike doesn't know what he's reaching for at first and just stares blankly at the other man until he offers it up. The others crowd into the room and suddenly Donkey Kong is a game support. Bill has Mike's nun-chuk and it doing all he can to make their 'team' win. Adam is sitting the other side of the older man, knees folded to his chest. He's leaning very gently to one side, and Mike's sure that Bill knows this.
They laugh and play as if the last few weeks didn't happen, until Mike gets tired and decides that it's time to get his guitar. He taps Adam's knees before he gets up, which earns a wolf whistle from Bill and that in turn earns Bill a punch from Michael.
As a band, they seem to have decided that whatever was going on has been sorted out, but Mike knows that there's a big talk coming, even if it's not just for him.
**
Adam has been sitting with Mike every day as he writes, sometimes finding the bass line and sometimes distracting him with inane questions. Mike's quite happy for him to do this, but he's just waiting for the moment when Adam decides that he's too much work.
The dressing room is clear every night after the show because Michael is off doing something with other bands, Bill is out signing autographs and Andy seems to have a habit of disappearing at opportune moments. Mike usually sits on his own, drinks water and makes himself come down from the high of the stage. It's what he's grown used to doing, over the years, but he's not used to Adam joining him.
It's the first time in a long while that they have spent time completely alone, in a room where the door locks and no-one has to come in if they don't want them to. Even at the hotel, Bill had an extra key, just in case.
Adam is sitting next to him so that their sides touch, but that's just enough. Hands don't need to be held, thighs don't need to be stroked. It's just comfortable.
They don't talk, but Adam is facing Mike and it's taking all of the older man's self control not to look back. Because if he does, their faces will be this close and then… He turns his head.
Apparently Adam has had the same idea, because their lips are touching. Mike pulls away a little, but touches Adam's hand gently as he does so. He's not letting go, just moving to get a better angle. When they kiss again, the tenderness is still there. In good time, they both move away, just barely. Their foreheads touch and their bodies are pressed together.
Mike decides this is a much better way to come down from the stage high.