Glastonbury Festival: Part One

[fuzzybuni]

Title: Glastonbury Festival
Author: haley_miller
Pairing: Damon/Jamie
Rating: Meh, PG.
Wordcount: 4,492
Disclaimer: Don't own anything in relation to Gorillaz!
Notes: Simple setting at Glastonbury Festival 2010. Gorillaz headlining. Jamie helps Damon through his panic before the show.


Ah, the Glastonbury Festival. This was a very familiar thing to the lead singer of Gorillaz, Damon Albarn. He had just headlined for Glastonbury last year in his first major band Blur. And what a lucky bastard he was; he was headlining for the second year in a row for his now animated band Gorillaz.

A shaky sigh escaped his parted lips. He paced back and forth, hands pushing through his short blond locks. Even though there was a great amount of movement behind the large stage, everyone just over-looked Damon worriedly shuffling. There were more important things to be worried about anyway, like sound-check.

Though he had performed in front of thousands at Glastonbury, just merely one year ago, it was still all too nerve-wracking for the poor bloke. He'd always been nervous of performing or screwing up the entire production by making one measly mistake that probably not a person would even notice.

Oh, anything could go wrong! Terrible thoughts flashed through his head. He shook it. No, no, can't be thinking of anything negative. Then it may happen.

Was he this nervous last year? Well, of course. He had to have been. And especially with his old band mates carefully watching him, it was even scarier. He had to be extra extraordinary in front of Alex James and Dave Rowntree... and who could forget Graham Coxon.

Whereas with his artist-friend, Jamie Hewlett, he could be a bit more carefree. He felt a bit more at home with Jamie. Just a bit. He grinned stupidly, stopped pacing and shook his head at himself again.

He didn't need to worry.

"What you smiling at?"

Hands suddenly rested on both of his shoulders and a head peeked out over his left one.

"Oh, Jamie, hello," Damon smiled weakly and looked to the ground. "I'm not sure. I'm trying to think of good things to take my mind off of ruining the entire show."

"'Ruining the entire show'?" Jamie, swiftly, pulled himself around and in front of Damon. "Dames, are you bloody mad?! You'll do fine!" He grinned crookedly at his mate, hands supportively moving back to his shoulders. "You've always done fine. Didja just witness Coachella? You were fuckin' brill! They loved you!" He shook Damon a bit and the blond giggled at that.

Damon smiled and turned red at Jamie's modesty. "You have a fuckin' knack for making me blush like a bird," he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing at his suited arms.

"Aww, well, you’re welcome, snookems," Jamie gushed back, winking and pointing a finger at him. "Also, bloody Hell, remember last year? You headlining for Blur? Mate, trust me, you don't need to worry at all."

"Thank you, Jamie," Damon sighed, spacing out a bit and looking over Jamie’s shoulder. "I'm just feeling a bit sick though. I think I should visit the loo maybe." He furrowed his brow in concern, trying to find some sort of bathroom somewhere.

Jamie shared a slightly sympathetic smile with his friend and looked around a bit, too. Trying to make Damon feel a little bit better, he added, "Well, maybe it's just the heat. You could take off your jacket."

Damon shook his head. "It's okay... it's not that." He smiled sadly. "Is it all right if I head back to the tour bus for a little bit before the show? D'you reckon it's open?"

"Er... yeah, I heard it's open."

Damon smiled half-heartedly, bode his good-bye and told Jamie he'd be out a while before the show would even begin.

Trekking back through busy crowds behind the stage was quite the work-out and his hot suit jacket wasn't helping much either. By the time he reached the bus, the area was quite barren and the grass was stamped into the ground. Sighing in relief at the faint noises of the stage behind him, he pulled open the bus door and climbed up the steps quietly.

The bus was empty to Damon's enjoyment. He pried the jacket off of his sweating body and tossed it onto the top bunk he was passing, which was Jamie's. He stalled for a moment and swung back to the bunk. Damon then pressed his face into the overhanging mattress and inhaled deeply.

Oh, he had missed having Jamie to his lonesome. Why did Cass or Paul or any other Gorilla always have to be lingering about?

He sighed, closing his eyes as he pressed his face further into the leather material.

Monkey. Monkey: Journey To The West was always a brilliant time. They always had each other to... well, themselves. Jamie would draw and Damon would lie in the hotel bed, eyes gazing thoughtfully into the ceiling as he heard the scratches of pencil upon paper. It was all so endearing. Oh, very endearing.

His eyes began to glaze over miserably as he stared into the awkward shapes and patterns formed on Jamie’s unmade bunk. Damon blinked at the irritating wetness.

He just wanted to grab Jamie, pull him away from the rest and just talk about anything. Like when it was used to be less busy. He then chuckled at the mere thought of him gracefully "whisking" Jamie off his feet like in some soppy fairytale.

It was just too much.

Damon reluctantly tugged his face away from the mattress, spun on his heel and faced the back of the bus, where the loo was situated. The blond rolled up his red-and-black striped sleeves that were uncomfortably sticking to his arms. He sighed again.

Was that his thirty-seventh sigh of the day? Or thirty-eighth? The singer had lost count.

He headed toward the back of the bus and into the bathroom. He flicked on the little, dull light that hung over the top of the dingy mirror. It was difficult not ever meeting your eyes in a mirror and he had hardly even wanted to see his nervous-wreck-of-a-self right now. Anxious eyes glared at anxious eyes. He suddenly glanced downward, turned on the tap and splashed water into his face.

Damon had been entertaining for at least twenty years now and he had still not found a way to over-come his panic attacks before concerts. What a way to be a successful front-man, eh?

His eyes met his reflection in the mirror once more and he scoffed indignantly at himself. Embarrassing, actually. "C'mon, you've been tormenting yourself with being worried for years and you still manage to please people flawlessly. What's wrong with you?" His eyes blue glare fought angrily with his own body.

He'd never figure it out.

And he didn't want to face himself anymore so he sharply turned his face away from the mirror and closed the toilet seat, which was positioned on Damon's left. He plopped down on it and buried his face within the palms of his hands.

He tried swallowing down his fear. It never worked, so he began sweating again. And he had thought he'd feel better alone in the bus. Tch. A stupid idea, really. He'd be better off with Jamie pleading for him to feel better whilst everybody viewed the show.

Jamie wasn't much of a communicator of feelings but he sure did show his fair share of them when Damon was in trouble. His butterflies eased in his stomach at that thought. Jamie knew how to make Damon feel better. Graham used to too. It was nice knowing that he always had at least one person that made him feel less sick of himself.

He sighed. Again. And the butterflies came back as soon as they had left.

Bad thoughts floated back into his head. He rushed his hands through his short hair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

He had himself questioning stupid things that would never happen such as: "What if you tripped and fell and the entire audience laughed at you?" or "What if you visited the loo before the performance and you came onto the stage with toilet paper stuck to your shoe?"

He felt bile rising in his stomach. Damon leaned back against the toilet seat and closed his eyes tightly, inhaling deeply through his nose.

"Or what if Jamie made fun of you after the performance? Knew you were a poor loser to begin with?"

He felt even worse at the thought of that. He bit at his lip.

"Or what if Jamie hadn't watched it at all and didn't even bother show up to see it all?"

He suddenly felt himself pull his body up from the toilet seat and kneeling in front of it, though very cloudy headed. He scrambled for the lid and seat, pulling them both back.

"What if he and the rest of the world just believed you were always a failure?"

He then lurched forward, vomit rushing up from his insides and into the toilet. The sound of his puke hitting the bottom of the toilet made him feel even worse about the situation he was in. He wretched and wretched until finally feeling light headed and as though he hadn't eaten in days.

He flopped away from the toilet, body clunking weakly against the wall and he wiped away at his mouth with the back of his wrist.

Oh, what to do, what to do...

He clumsily brought his shaky hands up to his face again and wiped away sweat and left over bile on his lips. How fucking revolting. Damon would have to at least brush his teeth twice to get rid of the bitter taste.

Pouting, the blond lolled his head back and sighed. Where was his toothbrush anyway?

The singer forced himself up. With all his might, his poor, shaking form made its way in front of the sink yet again and he rinsed his mouth out quite a few times.

When Damon left the loo, he managed to find his toothbrush and paste hiding deep within a side pocket of his duffle bag, which was rammed under his bunk.

Shuffling his way back to the bathroom, he pursed his lips and almost felt like resorting to tears. It sounded like such a girlish thing to do, but it was true. He was so sick and tired the way his body treated him when doing concerts. Even signing bloody autographs had his bones aching with worry from head to toe.

When his toothbrush barely touched his teeth, his stomach gurgled loudly and he was in front of the toilet on his hands and knees again, hurling up his food from today. He started moaning sadly between wretches and a call out of nowhere reached his ears,

"Damon? Are you in 'ere?"

The singer didn't dare move from the toilet, but he did turn his head to the bathroom door. Who was it?

He turned back quickly, heaving up more.

"Damon, mate?" The voice was a lot closer now and more clear. He heard the flimsy door squeak open and he turned his head to the side, catching a glimpse of the other man. And it was his distressed friend Jamie. "Dames, what's wrong, mate? Are you okay?!"

His brunette friend was instantly by his side and kneeling, resting a caring hand on his heaving back.

"Day, is there anything I can do?" Jamie urged fretfully. "Please tell me you're okay!"

Damon nodded weakly and suddenly moved back from the toilet once more, back against the small washroom wall. His head rolled back and his blue eyes closed tightly. His pants filled the small stall with the only noise noticeable while Jamie sat nearby, anxiously waiting for some sign of Damon being all right.

"Damon..." Jamie mumbled weakly, crossing his legs tightly. His knee bumped his mate's ankle, causing the sick one to be startled. Damon's eyes cracked open and shot to Jamie. "Is-is - what's wrong...?" He trailed off.

Damon shook his head, tears welling up more worse than they already were from puking so much. He felt so empty, physically and emotionally. But being sick did often make you feel quite terribly of yourself. "Ja-Jamie... I can't, mate... I-I just c-c-can't... anymore..." He shook his head more. "I'm so... tired."

Jamie shook his head and watched the tears just roll down and off of Damon's face. He just wanted to hold his mate, whisper sweet nothings in his ear and wipe away Damon's tears with gentle hands. There wasn't enough time for that though. The show was starting soon.

Damon whimpered softly and looked down at his lap, watching the tears soak into the material of his jeans. He didn't want Jamie witnessing his tears anyway. He tried sheltering his face away from Jamie but the artist moved cautiously along the floor, closer and pulled away Damon's hands from his cheeks.

"S' okay," Jamie spoke carefully, the words rolling of his tongue tenderly. He set Damon's hands in his lap. Still kneeling on his knees, he positioned himself right between Damon's now spread apart legs. Jamie began brushing the tears away, the ones that were drying and even the new falling ones. Jamie's soft hands grazed along Damon's long, ski-jump nose, smooth cheeks and rough stubble. The blond allowed Jamie to even cup his face and brush his thumbs underneath his wet eyes. "You're okay."

"Oh, Jamie..." Damon moaned, eyes flickering up and down his artist's face. "I miss having you to myself." He sniffled sadly.

Jamie chuckled, flashing a charming smile. His soft hands still cupped Damon's face tightly and he brought his face closer, placing a small kiss right underneath Damon's left glossy eye.

"Mmmh, we can arrange that..." Jamie smiled sincerely, "But right now, I think you're on in fifteen, mate."

Damon suddenly felt panic rise in his stomach again; his body weakened in Jamie's arms and he shook his head. Jamie shushed Damon before he even began his first word of denial.

"Damon. Damon-love... just give me a moment." Jamie stated, furrowing his brow. "You're wonderful," he said lovingly, lips parting in delight at his own words. "You're magnificent and perfect and handsome and amazing. Now what gives you any right to believe different for even one split second? Nothing at all!"

Damon felt all gushy and teary-eyed again. Not from fright, but from Jamie expressing his feelings to him.

"You are one of the most creative, most mad, most brilliant musicians that have ever been born on this Earth. You've just created one of the most insanely rich albums that have ever been known to man. You've even convinced Lou Fucking Reed to show up for this concert at all... and you know how much work has gone into collecting all of these musical collaborators to come together for this huge tour.

"And did you just witness Coachella, like I said? The crowd was going fucking bananas for ya, mate! You’re insane to be even thinking for one moment of getting sick at all! Please, please, believe me. They all love you. As much as I do!”

Damon was more than just shocked by the words that came from Jamie's mouth. He was absolutely overwhelmed by hearing all of these wonderful things.

"Wha-what can I say to that?" he mumbled weakly, sniffling again. He crinkled his nose and his mouth continued staying a bit parted as he looked at Jamie.

"Thank you?" Jamie joked lightly.

Damon suddenly pushed his way through Jamie's hands and hid his face in his friend's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around his Jamie's midsection, practically squeezing the life out of him. Jamie wobbled back a bit at the unexpected force but then grinned, keeping his balance and hugging back.

"Oh, I miss you so, so, so, so much, Jamie," Damon mumbled, eyes growing misty at his words again. He glanced vacantly over Jamie's shoulder.

"Damon, I haven't gone anywhere, mate," Jamie chuckled back weakly, still having his grip tight around the blond.

"Well... well, what I mean is... that having Suzi and Missy come along is a slight bit... not, ah, agitating... but time-consuming of our time, I'll say," he stuttered back, hands running slowly through Jamie's short hair. "Er, they aren't a burden or anything..."

"No need to explain; I understand," Jamie said softly, smile still pushing across his features. "Maybe we can have a break back in England before we head over to the U.S. and hang about there, hmm?"

"Sounds wonderful..." Damon tailed off.

"Now c'mon, let's be off. Brush your teeth." Jamie pulled back and collected the toothbrush and toothpaste behind his feet. He grunted as he made his way with the help of the wall, off the loo floor. He helped Damon up, a firm hand squeezing a slightly clammy one. "Here's your things. I'll be waiting on the bunk for ya." He left quietly with a curt nod and small smile, door shutting squeakily behind himself.

Damon brushed his teeth with ease now that his stomach was almost completely empty. He'd have to complain later about being hungry; the show must go on.

Leaving the bathroom almost as quietly as Jamie had, he then spotted his friend sitting on his bunk, feet resting beside his open duffle bag. Jamie smiled again at Damon and moved up from the bunk. He placed his things away in his bag and tucked it under his bunk once more.

Jamie, whom was still standing right in front of the bunk, gestured to his left in the direction of the door. He grinned cheekily.

"After you..."

And still in front of Jamie, stood Damon, pondering whether or not this would be a perfect moment to maybe just- oh well, fuck it. It was.

Then without any warning, Damon pulled Jamie close, hands quickly resting on the nape of his neck and forced the artist's lips upon his own.

It was much of a shock to Jamie since he wasn't expecting any intimacy from Damon at all on this busy tour, though all the shock wasn't necessarily from that alone. They had also stopped all the lovey-dovey, romance shite a while back because of their own families and girlfriends. What Damon was doing was very endearing, though he seemed to be very out of his mind. Or what Jamie believed to be fact.

But Jamie was falling for it all anyway.

Soon, his hands were firmly gripping Damon's hips and pulling his body closer against his own. Oh God, he didn't just want to kiss Damon. He had wanted all of him to himself. Why hadn't he noticed that he had been missing this for years?! Damon was driving him insane with his loving pink lips and carefully placed caresses on the back of Jamie's neck.

Damon released his mouth from Jamie's first and gasped at his mate's nails digging into his hips through the striped shirt. "Oh God, J-Jamie..." he moaned, placing his eagerly shaking lips into Jamie's neck. He kissed his friend tenderly, gently. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't be..."

"Nah, s' okay... I've been missing out for a while..." Jamie cooed, brushing his fingertips gingerly along the curve of Damon's spine. The singer shivered at his touch, even through the shirt. He chuckled lightly. "You miss this, don't you?"

Damon huffed in reply. "And you sound as though you don't."

"Of course I do, twat." Jamie brought his mouth down Damon's jaw line and nibbled at the side of his face. The singer was then left breathless, leaning against the bed bunks for support. Jamie's body followed Damon's.

"Well, don't chuckle at me like that, then."

Jamie scoffed, though a smile still irked along his thin lips. "Ahh, can't help myself. You make me giggle a lot." He rolled his eyes playfully and so did Damon, though they both did not see each other do that. Stubble covered cheeks pressed tightly against another.

"Kiss me again," Damon inquired, and stated, bashfully.

Jamie, then, kissed Damon lightly. He moved his lips slowly and very expert-like, though he had always been like this with Damon. And of course Damon was mad for it. The artist pulled away almost too soon for the singer.

"Mmmh..." Damon hummed, smiling, and pushing his nose beside Jamie's.

"You're extremely minty tasting right now," Jamie pointed out, smirk passing his lips.

Damon released a small squeak as Jamie pushed his hand under Damon's shirt and up the small of his back. "I realised I'd b-be..." He tried with all his might to hold it back, but a small moan escaped his parted lips.

"You look hot in stripes," Jamie grinned, giving Damon another quick share of his mouth.

The blond laughed hoarsely. "'Hot'? Thanks for the, er, very feminine compliment."

"You're welcome, gorgeous." Jamie then batted his eyelashes repeatedly and then winked in a much exaggerated manner.

Damon sniggered daftly, then releasing a contented sigh afterward, so very happy to be in Jamie's arms again.

"Sooooo, Damon," the artist started softly. He began to leave light trails of kisses down Damon's neck and shoulder. "I say we spend some time alone when we get a break. As in finding a place somewhere just for a bit." He then pulled back, head tilted downward and glancing at Damon through his eyelashes. It was an innocent stare but other messages were hidden beneath it.

Damon gave a reluctant gaze back and then slowly looked off to the side, trying to avoid Jamie's eyes. "It's a brilliant idea, it is. I-I'm just not sure... if it'd completely work though... if ya catch my drift." His fingers absentmindedly grazed up and down the back of Jamie's neck, leaving the other to shiver in his grasp.

Damon licked his lips nervously.

"Suzi-"

"I'm assuming she'd understand, mate. Like me and you just hanging out... we've been busy. Y'know, you with Blur and then suddenly working on another album with me... I bet she'd be happy we're just out again, like, brothers or somethin'. Maybe we could visit Devon again?" His eyebrows rose hopefully.

The blond's brow furrowed in worry, and he anxiously looked at Jamie, eyes flickering between sadness and betrayal. He licked his lips yet again. Jamie's hands now just rested on the curve of Damon's hips, fingers trembling just a slight bit. Damon didn't notice anyway. He was too busy thinking of the possible things he'd let Jamie do to him if they were alone again... like many years before.

"Mmm, yes, okay," Damon muttered in regret, though in his mind he was a very happy soul. "We'll think of something to agree on... later though, of course. I'm rather... overwhelmed right now."

Jamie nodded once. "Yes, yes, I know. I'll leave your mind of anymore thoughts of that." He then shared a crooked, and familiar Jamie-like grin which Damon instantly felt at ease with. It was rather awkward sharing a serious conversation with someone that was always so... comedic. "Okay?" Jamie rubbed his right hand up and down Damon's side, looking for some sort of verbal answer.

Damon smiled. "Yeah." He nodded silently.

Jamie was smirking again and he, out of nowhere, took Damon into another extra friendly kiss, lips moving daintily across lips. He pulled Damon as close as humanly possible to show him that he actually did care for him, still. He did never want Damon to be thinking that he was taking the singer for granted.

"Hmm, Damon," Jamie's lips spoke as he pulled away. "I think you're bound to be on stage now." He smiled reassuringly. "You're gonna do great." He patted him on the back.

Damon was the first to pull away. He'd rather stay in Jamie's arms all night but performing was something that had to be done.

He grinned back. "Yeah, 'course! Thanks. I think I'll do better than what I was thinking before..." He added a wink onto that statement.

That caused Jamie to laugh hard.

Damon moved around Jamie, awkwardly shuffling in silence but suddenly, Jamie tugged Damon back again. Jamie was rarely at a loss of words in any one situation but looking at Damon’s curious face had him stumped. He scratched the back of his head with his free hand, slowly looking down to the one holding Damon’s.

"Uhmm, Damon..." he paused, biting his lip. A very unlike Jamie gesture, Damon took notice. "Well," He still continued rubbing the back of his head. "Next time you feel sick... or, like, panic before a concert, just take me along, okay?"

Damon furrowed his brow in question. "Is there any reason that I actually need to?" the blond inquired, chuckling afterward. He wasn't being mean; having panic attacks were a normal thing to him before concerts. He hadn't bothered ever taking Jamie along with him before. Damon would just overcome the panic by himself. "I don't really need-"

"Oh, that's a load of bullshit, Damon," Jamie interrupted, a bit irritably, may I add. "Of course you do."

Damon laughed unsurely. "And you knew what I was going to say how...?"

He gripped both sides of Damon's face tightly, wrapping his fingers around the lead singer's ears and pulled his head closer. "Of course you need support. Next time, don't leave off on your own because I'll gladly stand by your side, Day. And besides..." He shared a cheeky grin. "We're in this together."

Damon smiled stupidly at Jamie's words. "You're bein' all sentimental tonight. What's gotten into ya?" Damon sniggered softly, cheeks pushing back against Jamie's soft hands.

"I just don't like seein' you all sick and worried before your show," Jamie explained, and gave Damon a big, lip-smacking smooch. He finally released the singer again and smiled sincerely. "Now, c'mon, don't wanna be late now."

Damon smiled weakly and quickly took Jamie into another man-crushing hug. Hiding his face in Jamie's shoulder, he inhaled a familiar and intoxicating, cologne-cigarette smelling scent and beamed also. "Thanks Jamie. For bein' there."

Jamie smiled back at that. "Always will be. Now, git! Git out there!"

He pushed Damon towards the bus door and the singer laughed, stumbling on his footing but managing to stay up. Jamie tagged along after him and shut the bus door after them.

Abruptly, Damon wrapped his arm tightly around Jamie's waist and pulled him close. He began to lead them back over to the stage. Jamie, slightly shocked, just looked to Damon with wide eyes while he continued holding him close.

Damon looked to him and smiled widely. "I don't care how queer or poof-ish we look right now."

"Oh." Jamie mumbled, blushing a bright red and watching his footing.

A few people glanced questioningly here and there, but nothing was really said aloud.

Jamie then wrapped his arm back around Damon's shoulder which caused Damon to smile even wider than before and lean his head into Jamie’s neck. And the two of them walked up to the Glastonbury stage together, arms secured around each other with goofy smiles latched on their bright faces.

Damon wasn't so nervous anymore.

Part 2