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Breathe.
That was always the first step after shows, breathing deeply for the first time in what felt like forever. Until then, it’s a rush to meet cues, nail choreography, hit the right marks…. When it’s over, it’s like a breath of fresh air. There’s plenty of tired bones and sweaty costumes, sure, but there was no more audience, no more people to please.
Terzo tossed his coat to the side and collapsed onto a seat in the tour bus, his head falling back as he caught his breath. He felt the adrenaline melt off of his aching muscles and exhaustion begin to set in. It was a familiar feeling, one he’d grown accustomed to over his time as Papa. He listened to the Ghouls pile onto the tour bus, all of them on their way to follow their own agendas.
A voice cut through the mumbling bustle,
“You look like hell.”
Terzo smiled and lifted his head, greeted by the sight of his favorite Ghoul. The exhaustion suddenly seemed distant as Omega settled next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. The bus started up, a gentle rumble filling the air as it began to move.
“That sounds like a compliment to me, caro mio ,” Terzo refuted, leaning into the Ghoul’s warmth. He was always so warm. “Have you forgotten who we’re working for?”
“Alright Morticia, I’ll just call you vile and grotesque next time, if you want to be that way.”
“Don’t you dare.”
The pair gave soft chuckles as Omega pulled Terzo close, placing a kiss on his temple. Terzo let out a relaxed sigh and closed his eyes, resting his head on the other’s shoulder. He took Omega’s hand, running his thumb along the short fuzz on his knuckles. There were a few seconds of comfortable silence before Terzo spoke up again,
“Wouldn’t I be more like Gomez?”
“What? How are you Gomez?”
“I’m Italian.”
“Is that your only argument?”
“I’m…”
“Short?”
Terzo gave the Ghoul a light smack on his stomach with the back of his hand, making him laugh.
“Fine then,” Terzo began, sitting up straight. “State your case: why am I Morticia?”
Omega raised an eyebrow and looked Terzo up and down. He didn’t need to say anything.
“... okay, good point,” Terzo responded, slowly nodding. “I don’t think I can argue with that.”
“Of course you can’t,” Omega teased. “I’m always right.”
Terzo scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning away from Omega as he settled back into his side. He acted annoyed, but there was a small smile playing on his lips. Omega knew him well enough to know this without seeing it and gave him a few gentle kisses on top of his head. The Papa closed his eyes, settling down into the domestic comfort he was now surrounded by. He felt his exhaustion begin to wash over him and yawned, relaxing against his Ghoul.
“Tired?” Omega asked.
“Mhm…”
“You can’t go to sleep with your face paint on.”
Terzo gave a dissatisfied grunt and Omega laughed, gently patting his shoulder.
“Let me get up,” the Ghoul continued.
Terzo immediately shot up.
“No. Why?”
“So I can get a warm rag,” Omega answered patiently with a gentle nudge. “Move.”
Terzo narrowed his eyes, disliking the idea of having his love leave his side, but scooted over so the guitarist could have room to stand. He stood and walked to the bus’s bathroom, and Terzo crossed his legs as he (quite impatiently) waited for Omega to return. He listened to the distant rustling, watching the bathroom door until Omega emerged, rag in hand.
“C’mere,” the Ghoul said, making his way over to the antiprest, taking his face in one hand as he sat back down.
Terzo obediently closed his eyes, allowing Omega to wipe the thick makeup from his face. Omega was large, quite a bit larger than Terzo, but he was extremely gentle as he pressed the cloth to the singer’s face, murmuring sweet nothings about how well he did during the show and how nice he looked without the facepaint, every so often pressing a light kiss to his lips. The affection made Terzo’s face grow hot, which surely was noticeable to Omega; something about the affection just got to him. The sweetness of it, the tender nature of the Ghoul’s touch and his words. It felt real — not like whatever infatuation others had held for the antipriest before. It made Terzo feel at ease, as if he didn’t have to pretend, he didn’t have to put on a show. He could be as boring or entertaining, as boisterous or as shy, as intentional or relaxed as he wanted. He could be energetic or tired, he could falter or fail, he could work or he could rest, he could simply be. No need to look good all the time, no need to sound confident, no need to be perfect. Only to be Terzo.
“I love you,” the singer blurted.
Omega laughed a bit, taken off guard.
“I love you too, my prince.”
“No, I mean…” Terzo huffed, not sure how to express what he felt in words. “I mean I love you . I don’t… ugh.”
A smile slowly spread across Omega’s face.
“I get what you mean,” he soothed. “You mean it when you say it.”
“I do.”
“Well, I’m glad. That makes me happy.”
“Good. Let’s never let ‘I love you’ just become something we say, okay?”
“You got it, boss.”
“I’m serious!”
“I am too.”
Terzo met Omega’s eyes and was starstruck by the soft warmth in the gaze that peered back at him. He placed a hand on Omega’s knee— both of them had paused, frozen in time, savoring the moment they had together. Simply enjoying each other’s presence, eternally grateful for the chance to look at one another, to see one another. All they were doing was looking into each other’s eyes, but Terzo felt breathless. He knew Omega felt the same, able to spot the way his cheeks darkened with blush. Terzo smiled and leaned forward, placing a kiss on the Ghoul’s cheek before offering a compliment,
“You’re so beautiful, dolcezzo .”
Omega’s blush intensified and he rolled his eyes, avoiding Terzo’s gaze.
“Quit that,” he chided, rousing a mischievous giggle from the Papa.
“I’m just telling the truth.”
“You’re just trying to fluster me.”
“ Trying? I succeeded in flustering you.”
“Blah, blah…”
Omega’s smile returned as he wiped away the last remnants of face paint, tossing the dirtied rag to the side as he wrapped his arms around the singer in front of him. Terzo buried his face in his neck and he tensed.
“By Lucifer’s beard—! Your face is cold! ” he complained.
“That’s your fault,” came the muffled reply.
Omega sighed and relaxed, since Terzo was right, after all. He gently rubbed the singer’s back, who began to shift and settle into a comfortable position. They sat like that for quite a while, listening to the hum of the bus’s engine, the quiet rustling of the other Ghouls settling in to get some rest.
As Omega gently fidgeted with Terzo’s hair, softly humming one of the songs from their set list that was stuck in his head, he realized that the antipriest had gone oddly quiet. He looked down, watching him breathe, and realized that he had fallen asleep. He smiled, finding it cute, knowing how hard he worked and how tired he must’ve been. He was tired himself, but there was still a bit of a ride until they reached the Ministry. The show they had that night wasn’t too far from their base of operations, but it would certainly be late into the night by the time they arrived.
After quite a few yawns and near failed attempts at staying awake, the bus pulled up to the building and stopped. The Ghouls shambled past the pair on their way inside, chatting and complaining about the late hour amongst each other. Omega waited for the last one to file out before he carefully slipped his arm under Terzo’s knees, lifting him into his arms and carrying him off of the bus. His eyelids were heavy and mind a bit slow, but he knew the path to Terzo’s quarters like it was programmed into him from the day he was born.
Cautiously, he opened the door and maneuvered inside, glancing down at the singer to make sure he was still asleep. Terzo had stirred a bit, but the night had taken its toll on him, so he continued his deep slumber.
He really must be tired, Omega thought.
The Ghoul set Terzo down on his bed, considerately removing his shoes before kicking off his own. He tossed his overshirt to the side before settling down beside the Papa, pulling the plush covers over them both. Terzo mumbled and rolled, pressing against Omega, his face nestled against his chest. The sight made Omega’s heart leap, overflowing with affection for the man he called his own.
With a final yawn, the Ghoul wrapped his arms around his Papa, his tail curling around the man’s wrist. He allowed his eyes to fall closed, feeling the distant call of sleep. Before drifting off and getting the rest he very much needed, he muttered one last gentle phrase, even if it went unheard,
“Goodnight, my love. Sleep well.”