Chapter Text
Axel, as far as anyone who met the band knows, had a variety of quotes that would live rent-free in your memory-banks for years. Whether it was an out-of-the-blue comment, a savage insult, or a response that just left you doing a double-take, it was safe to say a conversation with him was one to remember… mainly because it would be impossible to forget.
So it was hard to believe that there were times when the drummer had a difficult time verbally expressing his feelings… especially when he had no idea what those feelings were, where they came from, and why he was having them.
And before anyone jumps the gun here, no, they did not involve any subconscious romantic lust towards Benatar, Puff, DeeJay, an author/authoress’ self-insert or OC, you (the reader), or other shit like that.
Nor did they involve conflictions of his identity. He was happy with who he was, regardless of how many haters ragged online about his Viking helmet or how he looked like a himbo. He still looks awesome. Fuck you.
Anyway…
When it was hard for him to articulate (a fancy word for ‘talk about’) what he was feeling, it stressed him out. Sometimes he would just sit on the bed and blast heavy-metal music until the feeling passed, or try focusing on tuning his guitar, playing his drums or bongos, or turn on the television for a distraction.
He once tried smoking some weed to relax and see if these feelings would flow out on their own… but from DeeJay’s report, he started spazzing out on the floor, tearing at his chest while screaming, “Get out of me!” over and over again like some Xenomorph just impregnated him and the baby was coming before its due-date. After that, he decided ‘unknown feels’ plus marijuana was not a good combo.
Alcohol didn’t help, either. While a bit of booze relaxed him, it took a few bottles to get him to feel numb and forget… and even when he felt like he could speak what he felt, Puff said his speech was too slurred to understand and the dark-brunette just passed out.
It wasn’t until recently that Axel finally pinpointed what this dormant mood was, when it once again surfaced during the middle of the night.
Problem was, he still had no idea how to bring it up without coming off as weird.
He lay in his bunk on the bus as it drove down the road, trying to figure out how to ‘open up’, and who would be the best one to be open with.
DeeJay was behind the wheel, having been chugging some energy drinks to stay awake (lest he risk running someone over… again). Considering how late it was and how the DJ had to focus on getting them home without any highway-patrol incidents, the drummer didn’t want to break his concentration via creeping him out.
Puff was the next option, but he was currently passed out on the bottom bunk, his phone lying on his chest still streaming the latest season of The Masked Singer. (Damn, it would be cool if they got on that show, somehow.) There was no way he was going to piss off the lead-singer by waking him up just to ‘tell him about his problem’ and get a round of homophobic-insults in response.
…
Fuck, that only left Benatar.
Axel rubbed his face, thinking about it.
The blonde did happen to be the more emotionally-sensitive one in the bunch, and hardly had a negative response to anyone. Hell, look how much he let Puff and Axel get away with giving him shit--- there was barely a mean-bone in his entire body! He’d be willing to listen (…or could easily be forced to, if he refused.)
The only challenge was finding a way to make his problem vocal.
Well, first step would be crossing over to where Benatar was; the brit was lying on his own bed, the bedsheet he was using as a privacy-curtain being the only obstacle in his way. Climbing down from his bunk, Axel made his way over, peeking through the makeshift barrier to see whether the blonde were asleep (or, worst case scenario, pleasuring himself--- there wouldn’t be enough brain-bleach in the world…)
Lucky for him, Benatar was still awake, listening to his air-pods while jotting song-lyrics down in his notebook. Axel moved the blanket back more, just enough to shift into the small space and sit down on the other end of the bed.
The bass-player looked up, flinching in surprise because what the hell Axel was on his bed in the dead of night, before taking his air-pods out. “Axel? What are you doing?”
“Uh…” The dark-brunette opened his mouth to respond.
And then his brain just shut down.
Shit. What do I say? Find the words and use them, dumbass!
“I… um…”
He was stuck.
Might as well forget it and go back to bed.
Benatar sat up further, setting his things aside as he noticed the blank expression on his friend’s face. “Is something wrong, mate?”
The drummer stiffened, biting his lip.
Yes, something was wrong--- he just didn’t know what level of ‘wrong’ it was, nor could he find a way to explain it!
He opened his mouth again to speak, but no words came out.
He sucked at talking about his feelings.
No one taught him how.
Benatar moved closer. “Oi, Axel. What’s going on? Did something happen?”
“Nothing happened. Just…”
Why is this so damn hard?!
“I… n-need a…”
Spit it out, already!
“…a favor.”
Not like that!
Benatar cocked his head. “What kind of favor?”
“Um… shit, man, I don’t know.” Axel rubbed his face.
This is embarrassing. I should just leave.
“Sorry. Never mind.” He turned to get up.
“Hold on,” The bass-player rested a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to leave. If something’s bothering you, I’ll hear you out. Now, what do you need?”
Shit, he’s on to me!
The drummer shrugged off his hand. “It’s nothing serious. J-Just forget I came in here…”
The blonde shook his head. “Axel, c’mon. No one just comes into someone’s room in the dead of night. Just talk to me.”
The dark-brunette slapped his palm to his forehead. “I can’t, dammit! I mean, I can, but… i-it’s hard to explain!”
Benatar rubbed his chin. “Okay… then why don’t you just show me? Whatever the problem is, I’ll try to help out.”
Show him…?
…
Ah, fuck it.
Moving quick, Axel shot his hand out and grabbed Benatar by the shirt, pulling him forth until his head was on his shoulder.
Then he kept his arms wrapped around him tightly.
Nobody moved.
The drummer remained frozen. He did it. He made a nonverbal statement, and now he had to wait for the response. He shut his eyes, just waiting…
Would he be pushed away in disgust?
Would he be labeled as gay and laughed at?
Would the earth fucking explode?
None of the above happened.
On the contrary, the thing he hoped for (but didn’t expect) resulted instead.
“Aw, mate…” Benatar’s voice whispered in a soothing tone, wrapping his arms around Axel’s larger frame as he rubbed and patted his back. “Did something bad happen?”
Axel shook his head, keeping his face buried in the blonde’s scrawny shoulder.
“Nothing you want to talk about?”
“…can’t talk…” the drummer murmured. “…don’t know how…”
“I see. …Can you at least tell me how you feel?”
The blonde was gently squeezed a bit tighter in response.
“Can’t. It’s… I don’t know, I can’t explain it.”
“Okay, that’s fine.” Benatar continued to rub his back. “Anything you need me to do?”
“This. Just… just this. No talking.”
The blonde nodded, resting his head on his friend’s shoulder, holding him and allowing himself to be held.
The dark-brunette relaxed, letting out a heavy breath of relief.
It’s okay. If he’s fine with it, everything is alright.
He kept his eyes closed, focusing on the warmth, the faint sound of music still playing through Benatar’s discarded air-pods, the gentle pats his friend gave him, and his own soft breathing.
Yeah… this is what I needed. Big time.
“Feeling better?” Benatar asked, keeping his arms around him still but loosening his grip…
Axel tightened the hug, making the blonde grunt.
“…’said no talking.” The dark-brunette muttered. “n’ don’t let go.”
The bass-player gave a soft chuckle. Poor brute must really be touch-starved.
In order to comply with his friend’s needs, Benatar held on to him and leaned back, reaching back with one hand to readjust his pillow so he could lean against the wall in a slant. Axel simply sprawled out on the mattress, using the blonde’s abdomen as a pillow, his arms locked around his torso.
The blonde then grabbed his air-pods, putting one in his ear, while holding the other up to Axel; the drummer shrugged, giving him the go-ahead to stick it in his ear, and You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid by ‘The Offspring’ filled the silence.
“…with a thousand lies, and a good disguise~ Hit ‘em right between the eyes, hit ‘em right between the eyes…” Axel softly sang under his breath. He felt Benatar’s chest shake softly, barely picking up the sound of a chuckle. “…what?”
“You said no talking,” Benatar replied.
“…song lyrics don’t count…”
“Fair point,” Benatar reached over, using one hand to write song-lyrics in his notebook that rested on the bedside-shelf, while the other hand continued to rub Axel’s back.
…
An entire soundtrack later, and the two bandmates had yet to alter their position. The only difference was, after half an hour, the blonde stopped writing and now had both hands rested on the dark-brunette’s back, and the air-pods eventually shut off due to going several hours without charging.
Once they were both used to the situation, Axel finally managed to speak his mind.
“Hey, Benatar… you… don’t think this is… not-badass, right?” he asked, his tone just barely above a whisper.
No response, save for soft breathing. The drummer tilted his head up, finding the bass-player had drifted to sleep.
Great. I’m finally ready to talk about my feelings, and he’s passed out.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Axel slowly got up--- a bit hesitant to do so, missing the warmth and feeling discomfort the moment his friend’s arms slipped off his broad shoulders and back onto the bed--- watching as Benatar shifted before turning on his side, but not waking.
He decided to return to his own bunk.
As comfortable as it was being held, he knew neither one of them would hear the end of it if Puff or DeeJay (…mostly Puff…) got up the next day and caught them in a cuddly position. They’d be spending the rest of their lives trying to convince them they weren’t ‘a thing’.
That was the main reason it was so hard for him to address these feelings and open up, he figured out.
That’s why he felt so weird about it now.
The only reason it didn’t feel weird before was because Benatar didn’t feel weird about it. If anything, he encouraged it… and the last time he checked, the blonde was 100% straight, with a girlfriend as an included bonus (lucky son of a bitch).
Maybe Benatar just knew how to share his emotions better than he did.
He didn’t know, and his head was starting to hurt from the cycle of toxic masculinity that plagued his brain. Rather than let his thoughts keep him up all night, he decided to crawl back into his bunk and get some sleep.
Maybe he’d talk to Benatar about it later, maybe not. At the moment, he was too tired to care.
He got what he needed, that was that.
Fuck it. Guys can hug. Screw society. Were his final thoughts before he drifted off.