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Apr. 6th, 2008 | 06:47 am
mood: optimisticoptimistic
posted by: discord72 in write_the_songs

Title: Shhhhhh
Author: discord72
Fandom: The Bravery
Pairing: Ant and Sam
Album: The Sun and the Moon, by The Bravery
Song: Belive
Rating: PG

Thanks to dalehead for catching my tenses!



Sam unlocked the door that led to the back of the bus and peeked through the crack. The guys were quiet, asleep after several rounds of beer and rehashing the show; several hundred miles between the last venue and the next. The whole 'after the show analysis' ritual was something Sam had never chosen to participate in. He preferred a shower and a joint in the back. Solitude.

He scrubbed one ear with the end of the the towel draped around his neck as he stepped over John, crashed on the floor with his feet up on one seat and a near empty beer bottle in his hand.

He loved these quiet moments. The mayhem and madness of the night fading with the exhaust from the bus as they went on to the next venue. He paused, leaning over Mike's body stretched out on the bench to peer out the window. Corn fields. Nothing but corn fields and the quiet hum of the bus engine.

The clock on the DVD player blinked up to three AM and Sam sighed, turning back toward the front of the bus as he tightened his towel around his waist. The small refrigerator was almost empty when he checked inside. A couple of beers, a package of carrots and a half eaten jar of apple sauce. Scowling, he shut the door and stood back up.

"There's some wine in the cabinet by the computers," a voice behind him said quietly.

"Huh?" he turned to Anthony, curled up in a captain's chair with his forehead pressed against the window.

"Yeah? You want some?" Sam asked, scratching his chest.

Anthony sighed, tilting his head against the glass and pulling back to see the pattern the gel from his hair left on the dark tinted window. "Naw, I think I'm done." He reached a hand up, tracing his finger through the gel.

"That's gross man."

"I know," he chuckled, turning some in the chair and stretching one leg out.

"Restless?" Sam asked, reaching up to the cabinet with the wine. A bottle of red, cheap red at that. It would have to do.

"Yeah, something like that," Anthony answered, wrapping his arms around his legs.

He slid into the chair opposite Anthony. "The show was pretty good tonight," he said quietly, sticking the bottle between his legs and tugging at the cork. It released with a pop that sounded extremely loud in the quiet of the bus.

"Not bad," Anthony agreed, his head thunking lightly back against the window. "Do you think they like the new stuff? The arrangements?"

Sam shrugged, tilting the bottle up and taking a drink without benefit of a glass. "Don't know." He shook his head and leaned back in the chair. "I like it."

"Me too."

They both stare out the window letting the hum of the engine fill the void.

Finally, Sam took another pull from the wine bottle and sighed. "They hate it."

Anthony laughed, quickly quieting the sound for the benefit of his sleeping bandmates. He leand forward to take the bottle from Sam's hand. "So do I. What the fuck were we thinking?"

"I don't know, man. I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Yeah well at the time John had just presented us with four giant blunts and a bottle of Jack."

"True. Very true." Sam agreed, holding his hand out for the bottle of wine.

The bottle clinked against the ring on Anthony's hand as he turned it over in the dim light. From the back of the bus someone, probably Dirt, snorted in their sleep. "What about you?" He asked, handing the bottle back to Sam.

"I just said I don't like it either."

"No...I mean, why are you still awake?"

"Oh, that." He gestured down to the towel around his hips. "Needed to shower and..."

"Jerk off?" Anthony's eyes glinted knowingly at Sam.

He curled his lip, maybe a smile and maybe not. "No, but I should have."

"Maybe that's the answer huh?" Anthony suggested with a matching smirk. "Jerk off, play music, drink some wine. Jerk off, play music, drink wine...." he reached out, pulling the bottle back from Sam and tilting it up. He took a long drink, lowering the bottle away with a gasp. "Jerk off..."

His eyes traveled slowly over Anthony, sleepily. "That your answer to everything?" he asked with a smile, watching the light glint off the wine bottle.

"Isn't it yours? I was just taking a page out of the Endicott handbook for life," Anthony teased.

"You have to admit, a good hand job goes a long way."

"Wouldn't know."

"What?" he reached out, seizing the bottle back and taking a drink. "That little blond at the bar? Didn't you..."

Anthony shook his head.

"What about the redhead back in Austin?"

"The...oh no, uh uh. What about you? Last time I saw you hang with one backstage was....LA?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Last year." Ant raised his eyebrows at Sam.

Sam pretended to think for a minute, cocking his head at Anthony. Finally he smiled, holding the bottle back out to his friend. "Life's full of surprises, Ant." He slid to the edge of the chair then stands, hand at the tuck in his towel to keep it in place. "Get some sleep, tomorrow's another show."

"Hey," Anthony turned in his seat, craning his head back to watch Sam as he made his way back down the length of the bus. "Hey what's that mean man? Sam?"

Turning back Sam touched his finger to his lips. "Shhh...they're sleeping." He turned again and stepped back over John as he slipped into the back room, pushing the door shut and leaning against it.

He stood still, making sure he'd not been followed. Then his hand slipped down between the folds of his towel, gripping his cock.

He wondered dimly if Ant had noticed his hard on when he'd stood up? Wondered what his friend would look like on his knees in front of him now. Sam shut his eyes, his head bumping back against the door, gasping quietly as he stroked himself under the towel.

Images of Anthony, sweating from his drumming, laughing at Sam on stage and lastly sitting quiet and miserable in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere smiling at Sam, wondering, wanting.

The towel caught most of his come as he bit down on a moan. He pulled his hand free, wiping it on the towel and pulling the towel off his hips. Crawling naked up onto the only bed of any size on the bus, Sam turned his face to the wall and tugged the half dirty sheets up over his body.

Another show tomorrow. Another night on the bus. Another night with both of them wanting. He shut his eyes, sighing into his pillow. Maybe then.

He listened intently, hearing the bunk squeak as Sam crawled in. Anthony's fingers trail over the fake wood of the door. "What are we waiting for?" he whispered, pressing his palm flat against the door.



(to be continued)

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