The Aviators (A7X)

"Yeah, I said he was an asshole."

"Jimmy, you're a fucking genius. How do you come up with this shit? For real?" Matt leaned forward, elbows pressed against his knees. Jimmy sat on a stool, swinging absently as the demo he'd laid down at home blasted through the speakers. Brian sat opposite with an appreciative grin to match the singer's.

The drummer smirked. "Easy. I sit down and attack everything. Comes up pure beast."

"You're a fucking beast," Matt, whose smile didn't last as long as Brian's, muttered as he settled back on his chair, crossing his arms.

Jimmy glanced across at his friend, lifting an eyebrow. The drummer was very perceptive and always seemed to know when any of the guys was feeling a little out of it. Right now, he could sense the tension in the singer, could almost see the big man's brain churning over.

"What's with you, Shads?"

Matt frowned. "Nothing. Just trying to figure out why I like this so much." He nodded toward the speakers.

"Bull. Shit. Something's got up your nose."

Brian grinned. "His nostrils are big enough to fit something up there."

"What the fuck? No." Matt made a face. "Nothing's up."

The guitarist laughed. "I see you didn't deny my comment."

"Just...fuck you, Syn." Matt shot a hard look at his friend. "I'm really not in the mood for your shit right now. And you should know why." The expression on his face was dark, lips drawn tight together. His mood since arriving hadn't improved by much.

Brian held both hands up to the singer in a placating gesture. "Dude, sorry."

Jimmy, who was now on his back on the stool, spinning around, glanced up at his two friends and scowled.

"What's with the love fest?"

"Huh?" Matt cocked an eyebrow at the drummer.

"You two are bickering like a married couple."

There was silence after that statement. Brian stood and went for the fridge. Matt shifted so he was facing the speakers more, shoulders tensed up. Jimmy sighed but didn't press, returning to swinging on the stool tapping the floor with his sticks. In time to the music filling the space.

After a moment or two of uncomfortable quiet from his friends, Jimmy decided to break it. He could never stand silences. He liked noise and the atmosphere was way too tense for his liking. Springing up from his stool he turned and without further ado lobbed one of his drumsticks at Matt. The singer didn't see it coming and the end of the stick caught him a glancing blow across the side of his head.

"What the hell?" Matt turned daggers on the drummer, but couldn't hold the look as his gaze fell upon the madly grinning countenance of his friend. "You fuck!" he exclaimed, bursting into a guffaw while rubbing the side of his head.

Jimmy slapped at his thigh as he fell onto the floor, cacking himself. Brian, who now had a bottle of Jack in his hand, walked back over and stood staring down at his friend with an amused expression on his face.

"What are you doing?"

The drummer quit his laughter, long limbs splayed out on the floor as he looked up at his friend.

"Laughing at Shads. I got him a good one on the noggin."

"With his fucking stick," Matt added, gruffly. There was a glimmer of mirth in his eyes, though. He could never really be mad at Jimmy. No one could. A hint of a smirk hovered at the corners of his mouth. Jimmy grinned at him. Brian shook his head at his friend's antics. Then he cocked his head to the side just as the sound of a car pulling up into the drive drifted through the door.