💦 RoadTrip One Shot Collection 💦

OT4 | Tight Squeezes With RoadTrip

A/N: Based off an early (like pre-Jack early) vlog moment where they all get in a lift and Rye says 'tight squeezes with roadtrip' and my dirty mind went places.

* m i k e y *

"Get in guys, it's a squeeze but we can all fit," Rye says, holding the lift door open.

I gulp. The elevator is rickety, and I don't trust it to hold the four of us. But we're all tired from performing, and there's a four hour drive ahead of us from Newcastle to Birmingham. I can't be bothered protesting as Fovvs ushers me onto the lift ahead of us, Brooklyn slipping in as well.

I should have trusted my instincts, because our combined weight and the heavy backpacks we're all wearing prove too much for the shoddy metal box. It groans to a halt, caught between two floors, the doors remaining firmly shut.

"Fuck." Rye expresses our collective thoughts.

We're pressed up against each other in the tiny space. My chest is against Andy's shoulder, Brooklyn wedged up behind me. Andy and Rye are standing so close they're practically on each other's feet. Our backpacks take up the rest of the space, urging us all towards the centre.

"Try the buttons," I suggest, knowing it won't work. Rye is the only one who can reach, stretching past Andy to thumb the button several times. Brooklyn watches, nervously gnawing his lip. Remembering he can get claustrophobic, I shift around to place my hand on his back, rubbing small circles to calm him. I feel his breathing even out a little under my touch.

"I don't like this," Andy states, trying to turn around so he can help Rye with the pointless button pushing, only succeeding in giving Rye a face full of backpack as he manoeuvres in the cramped space.

Meanwhile I'm holding my phone above my head, other hand still focussed on calming Brooklyn, searching for a spot with service.

"Yes! One bar!" I exclaim when I finally find a sweet spot in the corner, "Siri, call Darren."

Three pairs of eyes watch me anxiously as the phone rings.

"Mikey? Where are you boys? We need to head off." Darren's gruff voice comes through the line. I've never been so happy to hear it.

"Darren! Help!" Brooklyn calls out.

"We're stuck in the lift," I fill him in, "can you get someone to come fix it?"

"The lift? Shit, hold on."

We all wait nervously as we hear the sound of Darren talking to some people.

"Okay someone's coming. This has happened before apparently. You'll be alright but it'll be a couple of hours before the maintenance people can make it over."

"A couple hours?" Andy repeats, mouth forming an incredulous 'o' shape.

"I know... it's after hours. Bloody useless. Sorry boys. You'll have to find a way to entertain yourselves in there." Darren huffs, hanging up. We all stare at one another in dismay.

"I don't like this, Mikey." Brooklyn whispers to me. I can see a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. Knowing he may be about to go into panic, I put all my attention on him.

"It's okay, Brooky. Look at me." I order, tilting his chin towards me and forcing his swimming green eyes to meet mine.

"Take your backpack off, babe," Rye adds, moving his hands to tug the bag from Brooklyn's shoulders. Once Brook is free he collapses into me. My arms engulf him, my lips going into his hair.

"You'll be okay, we're here," I mutter soothingly against his temple.

Feeling his breathing calm, I continue, scattering light kisses over his forehead and cheek. It just feels natural. I notice Rye is now working a hand through Brooklyn's hair. I feel Andy next to me, helping me out of my own backpack, then replacing its weight with his arm around my back, all of us calming from the connection.