Work Text:
Their tour bus was objectively nice—far nicer than the van they had toured the West Coast in the previous summer. The bus had six bunks, two lounge areas, a small kitchenette, and a bathroom that Luke would swear was more spacious and well-appointed than the one they’d had in their first apartment. The problem was that he just wasn’t used to the swaying motion while he tried to sleep in his bunk as the driver drove them overnight from one gig to the next. It was a long cross-country tour and only week two of the twelve weeks they were booked that fall. He had time to get used to it. Right? Right.
Yeah, right.
He should be sleeping like a baby, exhausted from playing sold out shows at the mid-sized arenas they were booked into. And he was tired, the adrenaline from the show having drained from his body. The gentle rocking of the bus brought him to the edge of sleep, but then they’d hit a pothole or a curve or something else that would bring him right back to wakefulness. And the cycle would start again.
If he couldn’t sleep back in LA, he’d work on some music, but now he had to be quiet because Julie, Alex, Reggie, Willie, and Flynn were sound asleep in the other bunks—the latter two joining the tour as part of their management team. So fetching his guitar and going to one of the lounge areas was out, and not being able to sleep or play music was making Luke feel positively twitchy.
He lay on his back in his bunk, curtain closed, and tried to imagine his guitar in his hands, mentally going over some chords for a song he and Julie were workshopping. But that didn’t help either, because then he wanted to turn the light on, so he could write down his thoughts in his song journal. Sure, his curtain was drawn, but two weeks together had taught them that the light bled a bit and disturbed the others.
Ugh. Insomnia was no joke. His body was tired, but his mind was racing. He took some deep breaths to try to calm himself, and then he tried to think of something else, anything else, not related to Julie, the band, their songs. He caught himself humming softly. Sue him. It was hard to turn off music entirely, okay?
“Is that ‘Bus Stop’?” Julie poked her head through his curtain, whispering to him.
“Yes,” he whispered back.
“Incoming,” she said quietly, climbing into his bunk. He pressed himself against the wall to make room for her, and then he wrapped an arm around her as she settled. “Why is it ‘Bus Stop’?” she asked.
“I was counting bus songs instead of sheep,” he said against her ear.
He hummed a few more bars. She sang along softly.
Bus stop, wet day, she's there, I say
"Please, share my umbrella"
Bus stop, bus goes, she stays, love grows
Under my umbrella . . .
“Huh. Fun game. I’ve got one.” This time she hummed, and after a moment, he sang in a hushed tone:
Woke up, fell out of bed
Dragged a comb across my head
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup
And looking up, I noticed I was late
Found my coat and grabbed my hat
Made the bus in seconds flat
“The Beatles.” Luke grinned at her in the dim light. “Nice.”
“Dude, are you singing bus songs?” Alex’s voice wafted across the aisle.
“Shit. Sorry to wake you!”
“Yeah,” Julie added. “Sorry.”
“I wasn’t asleep. It’s hard getting used to the movement of the bus.”
“Preach.” Julie carefully drew back Luke’s curtain so she could see Alex, who had opened his own.
“But if you idiots are going to play late night guessing games about buses instead of sleeping, you should at least pick the song that has an interesting percussion sound.” Alex began lightly tapping a beat on the wall above his head.
“Do you sleep with your drumsticks, Alex?” Julie asked, eyes wide.
“No?” Alex’s response didn’t sound very certain.
“Yes.” Willie threw open his curtain from the bunk above Alex. “Those are his emotional support drumsticks,” he teased.
“Willie!” Alex whined.
“Don’t worry, hot dog, it’s cute. And I believe you are imitating the percussion instrument known as the Claves.”
Alex smiled. “I’ll make a drummer out of you yet.”
Luke propped himself up, so he could see over Julie. “Oh, good one, man.”
He and Willie began to sing. Julie took backup.
Every day I get in the queue (Too much, Magic Bus)
To get on the bus that takes me to you (Too much, Magic Bus)
I'm so nervous, I just sit and smile (Too much, Magic Bus)
You house is only another mile (Too much, Magic Bus)
“What the fuck are y’all doing?” That was Flynn. She looked irritated as she threw open her curtain.
“Sorry, Flynnie,” Julie said. “We couldn’t sleep.
“Jules.” Flynn’s tone was unimpressed. “You’d sleep better in your own bunk.”
“Would I though?” she asked.
Luke’s grin widened as he nuzzled the back of her neck. He knew she could feel his smile against her skin when she added, “Luke’s bunk is way more comfy than mine.”
“Ugh. We have a long day tomorrow, and as your manager, I should—”
“Pick the next song?” Reggie interrupted, drawing back his curtain.
The lights were low, but they could all see Flynn roll her eyes. “Do I look like I sing songs about buses, Peters?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Oh, you’ll know this one, Reg.” Luke began to hum.
“Oh! That one’s pretty.” Reggie began to sing, and Alex joined on the harmony.
"Kathy", I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh
"Michigan seems like a dream to me now"
It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw
I've gone to look for America
Julie sighed. “You guys really should agree to take the lead more often.”
“Seconded.” Luke stopped humming to add his vote.
“Nope, I’m good hiding behind my kit.”
Willie knew Alex did not want to be out front in their concerts, so he drew attention back to the game. “Does that song even count? Greyhound is a type of bus, sure, but it doesn’t actually use the word bus.”
Julie linked her hand with Luke’s. “Of course it counts. Luke will want to include Clapton’s bus song!”
Luke felt a warmth swell in his chest. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “God, Jules, you know me so well!” He sang the first verse:
Ridin’ on a Greyhound bus
Tomorrow never seemed to gone
I hear your voice, see your face
I don’t know where it’s coming from
“But that actually uses the word bus.” Alex defended Willie’s position. “The Simon and Garfunkel song didn’t. So the song is really only bus adjacent.”
Everyone began talking at once, interrupting each other.
“Well, I—”
“That’s ridiculous because—”
“You guys—”
Flynn brought her fingers to her lips and gave a sharp whistle, restoring peace to the bus.
Luke pouted quietly for a minute. Julie stroked her thumb soothingly over his knuckles.
It was Willie who broke the silence. “You guys are forgetting the best bus song of all.” He began to sound out a vocal beat. “Dun Dun Dun Dun . . .”
Luke sat up, dragging Julie up with him. “Hold up! That’s clearly Queen’s ‘Another One Bites the Dust.’ There’s no bus in that!” Luke sounded personally offended that Willie would try to pass off a Queen song as a bus song.
“And here we go again,” Flynn said, lying back in her bunk.
Willie just laughed. “You’re wrong, Luke. It’s the Weird Al parody ‘Another One Rides the Bus.’” He sang:
Another one rides the bus, another one rides the bus
Another comes on and another comes on
Another one rides the bus
Hey, he's gonna sit by you, another one rides the bus
Luke grinned and shot Willie finger guns. “I concede the point.”
“Oooh,” Reggie said, “what about this!” He began to sing:
The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, . . .
Luke groaned.
“Nope.” Alex closed his curtain.
“I’m out.” Willie shut his.
“K. That’s enough of that game.” Julie tugged Luke’s curtain across his bunk.
“Flynn?” Reggie asked.
“Absolutely not.”