Work Text:
Willie <3 – 4.32 pm
Hey, are you home yet?
Alex stares at his phone screen with a frown etched into his face. He told Willie that he’d be at band practice until six. He’s always at band practice until six on Wednesdays.
Alex – 4.34 pm
No, I’m still at Julie’s
Why?
He sees Willie type, then the blue bubble disappears again. It reappears and disappears again before he finally finishes his answer.
Willie <3 – 4.35 pm
It’s nothing
Just wondering
Huh. Willie is never just wondering. He always asks straight out of his mind, he always has something going on behind his questions. Only very rarely does he talk around what he actually wants to say.
Alex – 4.36
Are you sure?
He doesn’t get an answer for almost a whole minute.
Alex – 4.37
Are you okay?
“Hey, Alex, you ready?” Julie asks from her seat at the piano. They were taking a small break before continuing with their set. Luke has a cold and Julie doesn’t want him to strain his voice so she forces a break onto him after every song. As she should, really, he’s always overworking himself.
“Huh? Yeah, give me a minute.”
He checks his phone again, but there’s still no answer. He’s getting worried.
Alex – 4.39
Willie?
“You good?” Bobby asks. He doesn’t lift his head from where he watches his fingers tuning his guitar, he can always tell when something is up with any of his friends.
“Yeah,” Alex answers. “I guess,” he adds, because he actually doesn’t really know, Willie still hasn’t answered his text.
He feels Reggie lean over his shoulder to take a look at his phone.
“That’s weird,” he comments after having read the few texts and Alex nods in agreement. “Nah, he’ll answer eventually. It’s probably nothing,” Reggie continues, mouthing ‘Willie' at Bobby when he shoots him a questioning look.
“Yeah, he seemed fine at the lecture this morning.” Bobby and Willie share the same art history class once a week and it’s their time to bond. Bobby would have told Alex if something seemed up with Willie.
Alex takes one last look at the unchanged phone screen before shutting it and putting it in his back pocket.
“Okay, I’m ready,” he announces, getting into position on his stool to count them in. He manages the first half of the song without problem, keeping the rhythm steady for his bandmates to rock out to, but then his phone vibrates and he loses his beat.
“Alex, man!” Luke says, groaning a little, but then he gets caught in a small coughing fit, so it was probably for the best for them to take another break anyways. Julie hands him another bottle of water.
“Sorry, I just –“
Alex fishes his phone back out of his pocket, clicking it on and feeling a rush of relief at seeing Willie's name on the front of the screen.
Willie <3 – 4.43
Sorry
I kinda had a bad day
Tell me when you’re home please
The relief gets pushed back by worry again. Willie having a bad day is never a good sign. He always has something to be happy about, to distract himself from bad things with. He’s normally the one to comfort Alex: he has bad days much more often than Willie. Quite regularly actually, his anxiety makes sure of that.
“Alex?” Bobby asks and when Alex lifts his head he sees that he and Reggie are both looking at him with concerned frowns. Julie is sending him a short look over her shoulder before turning back to take care of Luke, who has sat down on the couch to catch his breath.
“Sorry. It’s Willie.”
Reggie’s eyebrows shoot up immediately and he puts his bass down into its stand.
“Is he okay? Did something happen?”
“No,” Alex says quickly. He frowns. “I don’t know.”
“Shit. Do you want me to drive you?” Bobby has put down his guitar too, joining Reggie in stepping closer to the drums.
“What happened?” Luke asks hoarsely from the couch, his voice laced with his cold but also the same worry as Reggie and Bobby.
“I don’t know, he just said he has a bad day.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Julie says just as Bobby hisses and says “oof, that doesn’t sound good.” They look at each other, Julie’s eyes growing wide with concern.
“You should go, Alex,” Reggie suggest, coming up beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Yes, give me five minutes, then I can take you home.” Bobby is already moving around the garage, picking up random stuff.
“Are you sure?” Alex asks, directed at all of them, unsure if it’s okay for him to leave practice this early.
“Of course, Alex. Be there for him,” Julie tells him, still holding Luke’s hand.
Alex looks past her at him. He just shrugs.
“It’s probably clever to cancel this practice anyways. I’m not sure my voice can do much longer.”
“See, I told you not to sing too loudly today.” Julie and Luke start bickering quietly.
Reggie slides his arm around Alex’s shoulders.
“I’m sure he’s okay,” he tells him, as Alex leans his head against his side. “Maybe he had something gross for lunch.”
Alex chuckles a little, glad for his friends attempt to cheer him up. He turns back down to his phone.
Alex – 4.47
Give me 30 minutes
Willie reads his text immediately but doesn’t respond.
Not a good sign, Alex thinks.
“Alright, I’m ready,” Bobby announces from the loft a few minutes later, jumping down the stairs two at a time.
Alex lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Reggie squeezes his shoulders one last time before letting go of him. Alex doesn’t have much with him for rehearsal today, but he grabs his empty water bottle and backpack, sliding his hoodie over his head, and he’s ready to go. Bobby presses a quick kiss to Reggie’s lips, they are both calling their ‘good bye’s to Luke and Julie before Bobby pushes him out the door.
The ride to Alex’s apartment is almost silent. Bobby has the radio on, an unfamiliar pop song filling the car, the volume very low. Neither of them speak apart from the one time Alex tells him that his side of the road is clear.
It takes them less than 20 minutes to get there, Bobby has always been a quick driver if he has to, never too fast or too reckless but always knowing which street to turn into to get to his destinations quicker than others. Alex appreciates it every time, when Bobby drives them somewhere. He’s not the only one with a drivers license, Alex and Julie have one too, but for some reason he is their designated driver whenever they have to go somewhere together. But Alex is fine with it. Especially now, with his leg jumping up and down and his fingers tapping sporadic beats onto his thigh.
Eventually Bobby puts his hand on Alex’s knee, squeezing slightly, weighing him down a little. He keeps his eyes on the streets but turns his hand for Alex to take. He does and Bobby squeezes it. Alex sighs.
They reach his apartment shortly after. Bobby slaps a hand on his shoulder as a goodbye before Alex grabs his stuff and exits the car. His walk up the stairs takes forever and Alex doesn’t know if he wants it to be faster or even slower, knowing that he still has to wait at least five minutes for Willie to arrive. Probably more, he’s never been the most punctual person out of the two.
He enters, dumps his backpack in the hallway, toes off his sneakers and then – he just waits. He’s standing in the hallway, not knowing what to do until Willie gets here. Should he prepare something? Make tea? Something to eat? Does he have to clean up a little? In the end he doesn’t do anything, just keeps standing in the hallway.
Two, three, four minutes pass, he can see the kitchen clock from where he’s still standing, and Willie isn’t here yet. Another minute passes, then another, and when six minutes passed since he got home he finally moves into the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, opens it too quickly so that water drips onto the floor. He steps past it to get to the kitchen table, leaning against it while he drinks.
The doorbell rings at 9 minutes after he arrived and he’s never been at the door faster.
He pulls it open much quicker than anticipated, feeling the swoosh of air blowing the hair out of his face.
Willie looks like he’s been hit by a truck. Not physically, but emotionally. Alex had seen him just yesterday but his appearance has changed so much that Alex almost wants to cry just looking at him.
His hair is dull and hanging flatly over his shoulders, an unruly mess and not nearly as shiny as Alex is used to seeing it. He’s slouching, his head is tilted to the side, his hands clenched into fists in the pockets of his jacket. He’s wearing his backpack on only one strap, the bag hanging heavily at his side. But his expression is what breaks Alex the most. He’s pale, none of the healthy blush he’s always wearing when he’s around him, his eyes dark and sad and his eyebrows knitted together in a painful frown. It’s heartbreaking to watch him, just standing there. He hasn’t even said anything.
“Hey.” It’s quiet, flat, Willie's voice void of the youthful, happy edge Alex is so used to. He shifts his balance, stepping forward to let the door fall closed behind him.
“Willie,” is all Alex can say before he has to watch Willie break in front of him.
A heavy sob forces itself past his lips and he slumps against the door frame, the back of his hand coming up to push against his eyes. His shoulders start shaking, causing his backpack to slip off and fall to the ground with a heavy thump.
Alex rushes forward in an instant, taking Willie by his arms and waiting for the second of him nodding in consent before he pulls him in, wrapping his arms around his back as tight as he can. Willie takes a second before sliding his arms around Alex waist slowly, his hands clenching around the fabric of his hoodie at his back, pushing his face into his shoulder.
Sobs are wrecking through his torso, shaking his entire body, muffled against Alex, and he can feel Willie's hot breath and tears against his skin even through the thick fabric of his hoodie. He squeezes him tighter, sliding a hand further up onto the back of Willie's head, into his hair, stroking it softly. He presses a kiss to his temple, his lips lingering, trying to put as much comfort as he can into the action. Willie's grip in his hoodie tightens.
It hurts Alex with every fiber of his being to witness Willie in such a state. He’s not good with people and their emotions, especially when they’re sad and in need of comforting. He doesn’t know when to hug them, when to give them space, when to tell them that it will be okay and when to let them talk it out.
He knows with Willie though and he’s so glad he does. He knows that hugs are his preferred method of comforting, but if they’re in public holding his hand is enough. He knows that he’ll stay silent for a long time when he’s feeling down but is glad when Alex tells him stuff, to keep him distracted from his thoughts. Alex is glad he knows all of this, because he wants to be the person Willie feels comfortable going to when he feels like this.
The sobs calm down slowly and turn into heavy breathing, his face still hidden in Alex shoulder, the fabric wet and rumpled, but Alex doesn’t mind.
Slowly, Willie loosens his grip on Alex’s hoodie, his hands sliding down his waist to his hips, gripping them slightly. Alex moves his hand away from the back of Willie's head to his waist, to allow him to lift his head off his shoulder.
Willie's gaze is cast downwards, strands of hair framing his face. Alex uses his other hand to tuck them behind his ear, keeping his hand on his cheek and stroking his cheekbone softly. He leans forward to kiss his forehead. Willie presses against it slightly, keeping Alex lips there, seeking the gentle contact for a second longer.
He does pull away after another second, breathing in and out slowly before raising his gaze to meet Alex’s. He can read all of Willie in this one look alone, sees the pain on his eyebrows, the exhaustion in his eyes, and the worry on his lips. He strokes his thumb over his cheek again. Willie's eyes flutter closed and he leans into the touch, turning his head a little to press his lips against Alex’s palm.
“I’m okay,” he whispers, barely audible, his voice cracking slightly.
Alex chuckles a wet laugh, only now noticing the unshed tears in his own eyes.
“Are you sure?” he asks him.
Willie sighs.
“No.” He doesn’t elaborate, just keeps his eyes closed and his face in Alex’s palm.
“That’s okay,” Alex tells him. He feels a tear drop onto his finger and a pull in his stomach at the sight of the boy in front of him.
“Can we –“ Willie starts but doesn’t continue. He squeezes his eyes and swallows.
That’s something Alex has noticed a lot, when Willie is feeling sad. He has a hard time voicing what he wants, what he needs. He doesn’t want to seem a burden to Alex. Not that he would ever think that. As if he could ever be a burden to him – not when he loves him this much.
“What do you need?” he asks calmly, leading the way.
Willie takes a deep breath.
“Can we – can you just hold me? For a while?” He grips Alex waist again, as if it pains him to ask something like that.
“Of course,” Alex tells him. “Anything.”
He slowly slides his hand from Willie's face down to his shoulder and then down his arm until he’s peeling Willie's hand off his hip to take it in his. He does so with the other hand too, taking a small step back. Willie kicks off his shoes, pushes them next to his backpack before he lets Alex lead him further into the apartment.
They stop in front of the couch and Alex lets go of his hands, settling them on the side of Willie's throat. He leans down to press a soft kiss onto Willie's lips, smiling when he feels him push back softly. He lifts his head again, sliding his hands down to his shoulders and under his jacket, pushing it off until it falls and bunches up at Willie's waist. Alex takes his hands away and moves them down to pull at the cuffs, sliding them off Willie's wrists, removing the jacket from his heavy body. He doesn’t leave Willie to put it away, just places it on the coffee table next to them. He can worry about it later.
His hands find Willie's again, squeezing them slightly, and he steps closer to the couch. He sits down, turns to the side and leans back, until his back is lying flat on the cushions, his head propped up on a pillow, his legs stretched out in front of him.
He pulls Willie in until he moves. Willie drops his hands, lifting a knee onto the couch between Alex legs and laying down on top of him. His head pillowed on Alex chest, his hands pushed underneath his back, his legs settled between Alex’s. He’s turned his head to the side, his ear pressed into the pink fabric of Alex’s hoodie, his hair splayed out around him.
Alex lifts his arms, laying one down around his back and pushing one into his hair, drawing soft circles into the skin.
Willie heaves a heavy sigh.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Alex asks, whispering, quiet enough to not disturb the silence settling around them. His hand is lying warm and heavy on Willie's back, he can feel the muscles relax under his touch.
Willie shakes his head softly.
“Okay,” Alex simply says, because it’s true. He’ll happily lie here in silence, Willie on top of him, if it means it’s helping.
Willie squeezes him, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to Alex chest. He lays back down in his original position, closing his eyes.
“Thank you,” he whispers, voice hoarse and heavy, exhaustion dripping from it.
“Of course.” Alex runs his fingers through Willie's hair. “I’d do anything for you.”
He feels Willie squeeze his eyes shut, the spot underneath them growing damp.
But it’s okay, Alex thinks. Being sad is okay. Willie being sad is okay. Because he knows lying here together, not saying anything, just Alex being there for him, will be enough to make him feel better. At least for now. And that’s okay.
Alex closes his eyes.