♡
smut
joeyxcorey
"Does no-one want to come see the Smashing Pumpkins with me?" Corey stood in the middle of their tour bus, arms flung wide and an incredulous look on his face. He may have been completely wasted, but he could still put up a show.
"Shut the fuck up already, Corey. Go by yourself," Paul mumbled, his head in a magazine.
Corey couldn't believe it. It was an amazing day - perfect weather, and there was a shitload of incredible bands to check out. And here was Slipknot, holed up in their tour bus tin-can doing nothing. Any other day of the week they'd all be clamouring to be let out.
Corey surveyed his possibilities. Paul hadn't sounded too keen on going, Chris and Mick were playing each other at Gears of War, Craig was on his damn laptop and Jim was on his phone to his dearly beloved. He knew Shawn was asleep, and Sid was in his own bus, fucking around with his turntables. That left someone missing.
"Where's Joey?"
No-one answered.
"Uh... where the fuck is Joey?" Corey asked again, knowing full well he was probably getting on everyone's nerves and not giving a shit.
Craig sighed. "Like we know, Corey. Go find him yourself. He's probably asleep."
Corey made a face at the sampler, who didn't see because he had attached his retinas to his computer screen again. Annoyed at everyone's apathy, he grunted, turned around and left.
In the bunk area, he tried to remember the one that Joey slept in. Considering he hadn't paid much attention, he spent the better part of a few minutes jerking aside curtains to see. It wasn't a pleasant experience - bunks were usually pretty disgusting, and this tour was no exception. Starting to think he was on a never-ending quest, Corey threw open another curtain with no small sense of frustration.
"Aha!"
This one was definitely Joey's. Perhaps it was the make-up kit that had spilled over the blankets or the piles of jewellery that gave it away. Either way, he knew it was Joey's. And it was empty.
"Uh... Corey? What the fuck are you doing?"
The singer started, and stood up straight in a hurry. He banged his head on the bunk above in his rush, and had to stand for a few moments rubbing the lump and muttering curses before he felt better.
Joey stood patiently, waiting for an answer. He chewed at the sandwich he'd made in the kitchen, nearly finishing it before Corey spoke.
"Um, I was kind of looking for you. Where the fuck were you?" His head still hurt, and Corey knew he probably sounded cranky. But he didn't really care.
Joey just smiled. "Making a sandwich. Why did you want to find me?"
Corey gasped. He'd practically forgotten, and he'd bet anything that the Pumpkins would be going on soon.
"Shit... we're gonna be late!"
He rushed past Joey, taking the drummer's tiny hand and dragging him with him. He ignored Joey's protests, intent only on getting to the stage. They thundered down the bus' steps, the smaller man nearly losing his footing and tripping. Corey didn't notice.
