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In a hurry Johnny struggled to open the heavy door to the backstage area. He had to push it with his body, his hands occupied holding a small bouquet of apricot coloured roses. He was convinced he was late. Having left his bandmates for a flower shop 40 minutes before they were supposed to be on stage thinking that’d be plenty of time. He had mistakenly left his watch behind and had no idea what time it was now. All he knew is that finding the shop again, picking out the flowers, being stopped by multiple fans, standing in line, and paying had taken a lot longer than he meant it to. And of course they were out of gladioli.
Through the door an empty white corridor met him. The floor squeaked under his shoes as he jogged towards their changing room. He neared the wall at the end of the hallway. It had a clock on it and he let out a sigh of relief when he saw it. They started in 15 minutes, that’s the perfect amount. His time perception may not be the sharpest. Brain clouded by the prolonged stress of touring.
He glanced around the hallway. A staff member, probably, walking out of one of the storage closets with a cardboard box in hand then disappearing into yet another hallway. So many hallways. Some of the sound guys he recognised sprinted past him. Suddenly the place was empty again.
He ruffled his hair then brushed his side part back again like it made a difference. Straightened his suit and tie. Picked at and tried to make the bouquet look presentable. He wiped his face with his sleeve, his skin felt tight and greasy in that weary way. Like everything was a bit off. But that didn’t matter now. He carefully opened the door.
His eyes landed first on Morrissey. Legs up on a couch that looked too soft to be comfortable and picking at his nails. A book laid discarded next to him, put away and forgotten. Towards the tables against the wall stood Andy and Mike. Both had a beer in hand and they were talking about who knows what. Andy looked quite happy though, and that made Johnny smile. Their heads turned to him and he received a quiet nod and wave.
Morrissey looked up at Johnny when he finally stepped into the room, holding the flowers behind his back now.
“There you are,” Morrissey spoke, “I started thinking you’d left us for good.” His tone wasn’t welcoming but neither angry, something in between. Serious in a figurative way.
Johnny noticed Morrissey also had a beer bottle as he stepped closer. But it was already emptied and left on the floor next to him. “Yeah sorry,” he said, “took longer than I thought it would. I went down to that flower shop that we saw earlier s’all.” He naturally revealed the flowers as he was speaking.
Morrissey looked at him slightly confused but then huffed a laugh and smiled. Not at the gesture but at the irony, yet there was a fondness to it. “I thought you said you were tired of all the flowers at our gigs?”
“Well they’re not for the gig. Erm. They’re for you, I guess”
Morrissey sat up slowly with his hands behind him holding himself up. He looked even more confused now. “Oh?”
Johnny swallowed, mouth suddenly uncomfortably dry. “Yeah.” He could feel Mike and Andy watching them, he tried not to look.
“Why?” Morrissey titled his head.
“No reason, just felt like you needed them” Johnny tried to say casually. “The gladioli were sold out but I thought these roses complimented your shirt,” he held out the bouquet to Morrissey who automatically took it. It wasn’t big or incredibly extravagant — 5 flowers cramped together, their many large plush petals pushed against each other. They did compliment Morrissey’s blouse, the colour almost identical. This peachy orange shade.
A grin grew on Morrissey’s face as his fingers grazed the flowers. He looked back up at Johnny lovingly, hushed smile still showing in his lips and eyes. “They’re very pretty” he stated, voice filled with affection.
“The worker told me they were called Just Joeys, I think. Named after some guy’s wife.”
“Are they, now?” Morrissey whispered in a conspiratorial tone, loud enough only Johnny could hear. He brought the bouquet up to his nose, “smells sort of fruity.” Johnny stepped closer and Morrissey stood up so he could smell them too. “They’re very nice, Johnny. We’ll have to get them water, we don’t want them to wilt, do we?” He raised an eyebrow.
"C'mon" Morrissey grabbed Johnny's sleeve and guided him towards the door again. And suddenly both men were gone, engulfed by the hallway. Last thing heard was Johnny giving a muffled and surprised “alright.”
Andy tapped his nails against the glass bottle in his hand, it was quiet now. His and Mike’s conversation had kind of died down when Johnny walked into the room and Morrissey started speaking.
Mike sighed loud and intentionally, “now that’s over at least.”
Andy looked back up at him, “yeah. At least they’re getting along again I suppose” he chuckled a bit and took another sip.
“Mhm. I’ll give it to Johnny, flowers were a smart move.”
“Genius move,” Andy corrected, “worked like a charm.”
They stood in the quiet for a moment, this mutual understanding of the situation. It didn’t need explaining nor words.
“Didn’t even say hello,” Mike said, referring to Johnny.
Andy smiled but in a sort of self-deprecating manner, “he’d ditch anyone at a moments notice for Mozzer, especially me it seems. It’s concerning really.”
Mike placed his hand on Andy’s shoulder and gestured with his bottle, “well that’s his loss, not yours.”
“Sure” Andy spoke, then immediately scrunched his nose and shrugged off Mike’s hand. “Now, what were we talking 'bout?”
Out in the hallway Morrissey directed Johnny so he stood against the wall next to the door, so if it opened they wouldn’t be seen right away. Morrissey stood close to the point the tips of his shoes brushing against Johnny’s. He half-smiled at the shorter man, head down, one hand holding the flowers behind his back and other hand still fiddling with Johnny’s sleeve.
“I thought we were gonna get water” Johnny chuckled.
“Oh no” Morrissey said playfully, his hands climbed up Johnny’s body from his sleeve to hold onto his necktie instead.
“Someone’ll catch us, people run through ‘ere all the time” Johnny pointed out.
Morrissey laid his head momentarily on Johnny’s shoulder, quiet for a second like he was thinking of what to say. “It’s fine, no one will see us because I said so,” he finally responded.
Johnny really looked at Morrissey then, really looked at him. “You are so confusing, y’know that?” His hands landed on the other man’s hips and his fingers found their way through his beltloops.
“You keep telling me that yet I believe I’ve made my intentions crystal clear.”
“For right now, yes,” Johnny began explaining, “though I bet you’ll change your mind in an hour or so.” He sounded quite loving even with that revelation.
“You’re ruining the moment, Johnny, you can think about that later.”
“But it’s true, isn’t it?”
“Hmmm, maybe, but why would I admit that?” Morrissey hummed with a smirk. “You're the exact same, I know it” he pulled Johnny closer by his tie, closing the gap between them, and Johnny met him in the middle.
The kiss started gentle, with the same rhythm they both knew as intimately as the back of their hands. They quickly began mouthing at each other. Morrissey slid the bouquet inside his back pocket so he could you both his hands to cling to Johnny’s shoulders and back. Both men smiled into each other and everything quickly turned more playful. Licking teeth and nipping at each other’s lips. Johnny giggled like a lovesick highschooler when Morrissey began kissing him all over his chin.
But suddenly Johnny froze. “Wait” he whispered, he put his hand between them and looked around like he heard something. He heard footsteps. The rubbing of the underside of a boot against linoleum.
Morrissey quickly noticed this to and stepped away with a pleased smirk.
A man came from around the corner, “there you boys are!” he spoke with a very classic midwestern American accent. He was older than the band by at least two decades, made obvious by his awful combover. Johnny immediately recognised him as the guy whose job it was to keep track of them, make sure they were doing what they were supposed to like they were children and not full grown adults.
“You’re on stage in just a minute or two, tell the others and hurry on up” the man continued, he clapped his hands twice to emphasise is words.
“Yeah, we’re on our way” Morrissey responded first of the two. He turned to the man next to him, “Johnny, go tell the other’s to come on out” he waved his hand for him to shoo.
“Er, right.”