One Week
It’s been one week since Trace barged in on Mason in the dressing room, and Mason has been thinking about it a lot. A bit too much, really, but all he could think of is Trace’s hand sliding up his bare chest, and fuck if his mind didn’t wander with that. Mason really need to speak with Trace about it. Standing outside Trace’s hotel room, Mason raised his hand and was about to knock. He had a key, but didn’t want to interrupt anything that might be going on in there. A sudden crash was heard on the other side of the door.
“FUCKING COCKSUCKING BITCH! I’LL FUCKING KILL HER!”
Mason pushed in the keycard and threw the door open and saw a very angry, very naked, Trace pacing the room. He was picking up random things and hurling them haphazardly. Tears streaking down his face.
“Trace? Trace? DUDE?”
Trace seemed not to notice him, growling he lifted a vase and heaved it in Mason’s path. The vase, narrowly missing his head, shattered on the closed door behind him. Trace, finally noticing his presence, stood and stared.
“Mace?”
Trace seemed to completely break down as he sank to his knees and silently cried. He wrapped his arms around himself as Mason looked down at him. Slowly walking forward, he crouched in front of Trace, and pulled the sobbing boy into his arms. They sat that way for a long time, Trace bawling his eyes out and Mason just holding him.
After an hour, Mason’s legs were cramping up rather badly, so, in one swift motion, he scooped up Trace and stood. Trace was completely caught off guard when Mason dumped him onto the bed and bent forward to rub at his legs. Trace noticed at this moment, that he was still naked, and realized that Mason’s head was now at crotch level. Mason, busy trying to work the kinks out of his legs, hand not seen Trace blush and climb under the covers. When Mason stood, he saw Trace staring up at him. He leaned forward and ran a hand down Trace’s face.
“You gonna tell me what happened now?”
Trace shook his head and rolled over, facing away from Mason. Mason sat on the bed and sighed. He really hated it when Trace didn’t talk to him, it made him feel worthless, and Trace knew this.
“Please, Trace?”
“…”
“Did it have anything to do with Hannah Beth?”
“Fucking cunt rag.”
“I’ll take that as a yes, but since you don’t want to talk to me, again, I’ll just leave you be. I know you wanted to be alone…”
Mason quickly looked at Trace, but he was buried in the pillow. He stood and started walking to the door.
“Wait…”
Mason turned and Trace was sitting up in the bed, arms wrapped around his knees, staring at him.
“Don’t go… please…”
“Trace, you wanted a room to yourself. You made it really clear when you punched Anthony when he said no.”
“Please, Mason, stay…”
“Let me go get my stuff. Ant’s gonna be pissed.”
“Thank you.”
Mason left Trace’s room to go collect his things. Twenty minutes later, when Mason walked into Trace’s room again, he hadn’t moved. He was still sitting in that same spot. Looking at the door. Mason quickly stripped into his boxers and climbed in next to Trace. After sleeping almost on top of each other in a small van, sharing one bed wasn’t a big deal. Once Mason was settled, Trace slid closer and rested his head on Mason’s chest.
“She fucking cheated on me Mace…”
“Hannah? With who?”
“M-m…”
“Who?”
“Miley.”
“Your sister? Wow, I’m sorry man, but you could always do better than Hannah…”
“You did say it was mistake from the start. I guess you were right… but God, she had to rip out my heart and crush it didn’t she? I fucking loved her…”
“Shh… enough, try to push it out of your mind for now and get some sleep okay? I’ll be right here.”
Trace let out a low yawn and cuddled into Mason. Mason thought this was rather odd of him, but held his tongue. Trace went through a lot suddenly and just needed someone there. Mason was happy he could help in the littlest bit. Mason wrapped his arms around the thinner boy and held him to his chest. He wanted to wait until he heard Trace’s breath even out before he went to sleep but he never caught it.
“Trace. You’re still up, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I can’t sleep.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Sing to me? I fucking love your voice. But, not one of our songs, something new…”
Mason’s jaw dropped and he looked down at Trace. He’s never heard that from him before. Trace was acting especially off, but, he’s most likely just emotionally strained right now. Mason tried to think of some people he hasn’t told Trace about, and he could only come up with one. So he just went with it, the song was stuck in his head anyway.
“Here’s my hand, if you need someone to walk you through the hardest times. And here’s my hope, if you lost your inspiration, have you lost your inspiration? And I believe in your every word. Make them believe, and show them what it means to lose yourself in your dreams.”
Trace’s light snores soon filled the room and Mason smiled, shut his eyes, and drifted off.
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Alright my lovlies, The song I used was called "Make Them Believe, Make it Reality" by a band called Can You Keep A Secret. They're amazing and own my soul, so you should check them out. && I'm sorry about any grammar/spelling mistakes in this, I wrote it after hearing that my three-day-old neice has a blockage that's causing her to cough up blood and she miight need surgery
D': Thank's to all who commented.