The Rhythm Of Our Lonely Hearts

Chapter Seven: Teardrops

Chapter Seven: Teardrops

Matt woke up in a haze, still groggy from sleep. After all the stress and bullshit he'd dealt with over the past week a good night's sleep was what he'd needed. The guitarist looked down at the man curled up next to him, Andy's long hair partially obscuring his face.

Was it a coincidence that the best sleep he'd gotten in a long time was with Andy next to him? He stroked the singer's hair, fixing his eyes on the ceiling. This should be every morning, waking up next to each other in bed. That was the way Matt had envisioned it; an apartment together where they would be free to just be. He couldn't understand why Andy didn't want that. And if he did want that, why he was so afraid to take that leap?

The older man felt Andy stir as he woke up, resting his head on Matt's chest. "Good morning... how are you feeling?" he asked, nodding to the singer's side.

"It's a little sore but... getting better," Andy replied, his bright blue eyes looking up at Matt.

"What about you? Did you sleep well?"

"Uh yeah... yeah, I feel much better now..." Matt said, cursing himself for being turned on.

The older man glanced over at the alarm clock beside the bed. They had slept through both breakfast and lunch. It was almost two in the afternoon now. Matt sighed, brushing his hair back. He knew that he should have refused the man's pleas to stay the night. Now he was in the awkward position of having to make an excuse to leave. They still hadn't talked about what had happened the other night, and with Warped only days away they needed to.

Matt knew there needed to be a serious talk about them, their relationship, and where it stands. That was partly his intention the night of the show, but things hadn't gone as planned obviously. 

"What's wrong?" Andy asked, noticing the guitarist's body language.

"You know we still need to talk about things, right?"

"You mean about that girl?" Andy asked, a hint of resentment in his tone.

"That... and other things. I don't like how we ended things, and I don't like how things went down at the show either. You were my best friend Andy... I don't want to end up hating you." Matt kicked himself for his poor word choice as Andy sat up, frowning.

"You hate me...?" Andy's voice sounded broken up.

"What? No..." Matt shook his head, propping himself up against the pillows, "I don't hate you, but... I'm worried if we don't come to some type of understanding, if this I hurt you, you hurt me bullshit doesn't stop... I will."

Andy bit his lip, looking down. "Yeah... I guess we do need to talk things out..."

"How about tonight? I can head back over to my place, shower, and change, then we can order takeout or something and talk things over? We can both say what we need to; complete honesty" Matt proposed, hoping that Andy would agree to it.

"Sure..." Andy felt too numb to put up a fight, finding it easier to just go along with it.

Waking up next to the older man had been the best feeling he'd had in a very long time. It reminded him of all the good times they'd had together. Most of all, it made him hate himself for fucking it up. He knew he'd chosen alcohol, drugs, and self-destruction over actual happiness. The reality was that he and Matt could have been together, in their own place, instead of some dingy hotel room. Forced back together by circumstances of the singer's own making.