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His foot was twitching.
It wasn’t like he couldn’t control it, obviously, but he just let it happen as it was one way to get rid of some of his energy relating to his impending departure.
God, tour, his biggest one yet - North America. James surveyed his apartment with a sigh, scratching the back of his mullet. A couple of boxes of merch (that he totally didn’t steal, shut up) were stacked haphazardly by his apartment door, setlist potentials still lay scattered across his kitchen counter like forgotten lists among paperwork for Rodds and video ideas.
Here he thought it was overwhelming writing the songs, not performing them and yet-
A text from Will pinged, taking him out of his spiral: {ETA 15 mins. Got the good biscuits.}
James grinned, a genuine smile that reached his eyes despite everything plaguing him at the moment. Will was his anchor lately and the thought of two months without him was a dull ache beneath the anticipation of seeing his fans in person. {Lucky me. Couldn’t find the bad bin to get some gross ones?}
Will’s reply was immediate. {Watch it, you giant oaf. I can turn this car around.}
James just shook his head. {I’ll behave, I promise.}
True to his word (or really, 140 characters), the familiar rap on the door – a quick, confident succession of three knocks – heralded Will’s arrival. James pulled it open, his frame towering slightly over Will’s, but the height difference didn’t matter when his arms were wrapped around Will anyway, burying his nose in the little hair that peeked out from underneath his hat as he pushed him backwards into the door, shutting it behind him.
“Gor, look at this chaos.” Will stripped his coat as he spoke, balancing a small, discreetly wrapped package tucked under his arm, alongside a packet of fancy mixed shortbread that James knew would probably disappear come evening’s end. “Looks like a bloody bomb went off in here. Think you were packing for enlistment and not 30 dates in the States.”
“Listen you, it’s organised chaos.” James retorted, pulling Will further into the flat, stealing a quick, chaste kiss that promised more later. “You don’t get to judge. I’ve seen your place like this a hundred times. Now help me decide what to pack. You know what looks good on me.”
“Yeah, me usually.” Will quipped and James felt a groan rise from his chest before he just trudged off, Will cackling behind him.
Thankfully, they fell into their usual rhythm soon after, Will patiently helping James sift through a pile of washing as well as his closet, their banter light and easy as usual - Rodds Iced Coffee logistics and sales, upcoming video ideas for Will’s channel, the times James would video call when his concerts were done adn he was back in his hotel room. That last time was a little harder to gauge, as beneath the surface, a quiet tension hummed between them.
It wasn’t like they hadn’t left eachother before, but the sache of doing so still managed to intertwine into everything as they worked out time zones and work delegations, neither addressing it as they finished the packing and collapsed onto James’s worn sofa, two bottles of Rodds in hand, ice cold and ready to be drunk as they curled up to eachother before Will shifted, turning to face James properly.
“I, uh… I got you something. A going away present, cause I’m nice like that.” Will said, his voice a little softer than usual. He reached for the wrapped package he’d brought in. It was small, rectangular, weighty.
James’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? What’s this, then? A good luck charm?”
Will offered a rare, almost shy smile. “Something like that. Go on then. Open it.”
“Alright, hasty.” James treasure before he carefully peeled back the paper. Inside, nestled in a velvet box, was a collar. It was a sturdy, elegant piece of dark purple, bordering on black, leather, about an inch wide, with a subtle black buckle and a small, almost imperceptible black D-ring just beside the clasp.
It wasn’t overtly aggressive or flashy; it was understated and well-crafted, already very similar to James’s current jewellery and style, but undeniably meaningful.
From above where the clasp and D-ring caught the warm light of the living room, James’s breath caught. He looked from the collar to Will, a flush creeping up his neck, his voice a little husky as he spoke. “Will…” He picked it up, the leather cool and smooth beneath his fingertips as he held it. “It’s… beautiful.”
Will’s eyes, usually so sharp and teasing, were vulnerable as he spoke, plaming James’s denim-clad thigh. “I know you’re going to be out there, doing your thing and I’m incredibly proud of you, you know that. But… I’m going to miss you. A lot.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “This… this is just a reminder. A small piece of me, with you. So you don’t forget who you come home to. Who you’re… tethered to.”
James felt a warmth bloom in his chest. “Tethered, huh? You really think I’d forget you, you absolute menace? After everything?”
“Never.” Will smirked. Then again, with your brains, a physical reminder helps, doesn’t it?”
“Arse.” James scoffed, swatting at Will’s hand.
Will just grinned, leaning in, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. “Out there, on the road, things get wild. People get loud. You can lose yourself sometimes, like when you used to drink and stuff. This is just… a quiet space you can like, carry with you. A connection. A reminder of me when you need it. Or something so you can ground yourself.”
James felt his heart skip a small beat as he looked down at the object that suddenly felt like it held a million pounds more weight than it actually did. It wasn’t just about ownership; sure, he was Will’s in every way that mattered, but Will was making it about security, about comfort, about providing a safe space to just…be, in the form of a portable object that suddenly itched to be on his skin. “Put it on me. Please.” He requested, tilting his head slightly, offering his neck and the collar out to Will.
Will’s fingers were steady as he took the collar, his touch gentle as he slid closer and fastened it around James’s throat. It was a perfect fit, snug but not tight, resting just at the base of his neck. The leather felt substantial, a sudden comforting weight that made James’s shoulders drop, his pulse thrumming beneath it.
He reached up afterwards, touching the smooth leather, then the small D-ring. “This detail-” He said, looking at Will, a playful glint in his eyes. “-this is for later after tour, isn’t it?”
Will’s grin returned, more confident now, a spark of mischief in his gaze. “Oh, absolutely. Consider it a promise for when you get back, or when you’re feeling particularly…needy.” His fingers brushed over the collar, a possessive, tender caress that James took great note of as Will’s fingertips brushed the skin of his Adam’s apple. “Suits you right, it does Jimbo.”
“You picked it.” James shrugged. “Like I said, you know what suits.”
“Yeah, I do.” Will’s grin dimmed a little. “Now come and cuddle me before you fold those long limbs of yours into a bus and abandon me for some pood sods who paid money to see you cry on stage.”
“Rude. So rude.” James grumbled, but nevertheless, pulled Will into his side, arm going around his back as he kissed his forehead gently.
Next morning was a blur as he threw the suitcases that had been so carefully packed and curated last night into the back of the trunk of the car taking him and his band to Heathrow to fly to the first stop on the tour. When he finally hauled the last of 3 in and slammed the boot down, he turned to Will, sleep rumpled and standing on the curb in the early morning light as seagulls flew overhead.“I’ll call you every day, you know that right?”
“You better, Jimbo.” Will said, squeezing his hand. His gaze drifted to James’s neck, a silent acknowledgment of the collar, still there, a private secret beneath his hoodie where only he and James knew it existed, kissing the back of James’s hand gently. “Go smash it, you rockstar. I’ll be here holding down the fort.”
“Remember, Otto likes the chicken treats only and for his food, only 2 scoops of biscuits or I swear he’ll yak up the biggest hairball-”
“I think I know by now how to look after your son, lad.” Will teased and James couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly, quickly diving in for another hug. “I fucking love you.”
“Love you too.” Will patted him on the back, then shoved him towards the passenger side door. “Now go or you’ll turn into one of those living statues that get shit on.”
James just rolled his eyes, but a soft smile settled on his face as he got into the car and clicked his seatbelt into place, looking out the window and raising a hand in a final wave that Will gave back as the car started, his figure slowly dissolving into the gray of the Brisitsh sky as they hit the streets before peeling onto the motorway, conversation flowing around him as as he leaned back, closing his eyes.
The tour was going to be incredible, he knew that, but now he had something more. He had his anchor, his tether, and a promise waiting for him when he returned and that in itself, soothed the last of the nerves as he engaged in a particularly competitive game of ISpy with his drummer and guitarist, the ghost of Will’s laughter ringing in his ears.