Work Text:
December 2025
London
When James said yes to going out after his final show at the Roundhouse, Will was surprised. He was knackered himself, and he hadn't been the one to just finish part of an international tour.
For the next few hours, Will nursed a pint. And despite him having alcohol on his breath, his tongue and his lips, James didn't hesitate to kiss him occasionally, right there in the bar. And Will couldn't find it within himself to be embarrassed, or turn his head out of paranoia to look for phone cameras pointed their way. James' band mates knew about them; so did Mikey and Ieuan; Kiwi knew; and Hannah did too. And everyone else there, Will had no idea who they were. It helped that most people were drunk. Nobody cared.
He was leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed when James slung an arm around his shoulders, and it was heavy enough to make him stumble and press a steadying hand to James' chest. His other arm shot out as he pointed across the room to Kiwi at the karaoke machine, and he yelled something Will didn't quite catch. Will was far too preoccupied with the way the multicoloured Christmas lights twisting around the pillar, light up James' face in the best way.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," James suddenly said, before tipping his head down to look at him.
Will shifted his weight to his other foot. "What?"
"Brother, I can practically feel you staring at me. We may as well be touching eyeballs."
"Can't help it," Will told him unabashed.
James' eyes softened, and his smile turned fond, as he stared at him for moment, before he spoke again, "You gonna do some karaoke? I think Kiwi wants to do a duet."
"Piss right off. Absolutely not." He shrugged off James' arm to lean his back against the pillar. James stepped closer to him, and suddenly they were close, far too close for where they were. Will let out a chuckle, his heart racing. "I wouldn't want to subject anyone to that."
"You're not that bad at singing."
"Yes. I am," he said with a grin.
\ꕥ/
It was a little after three when they finally got back to Will's flat.
One of the first things James did was collapse dramatically onto the sofa, an arm resting over his face. Neglecting to take off his shoes, which Will walked over to him to do after shrugging off his coat. Yanking them off his fat feet and setting them neatly down by the front door.
It was far too late to do anything but sleep.
Will busied himself by getting a glass of water. He leaned against the counter for a moment, and sipped it slowly, basking in the silence of it all. "I'm seriously proud of you, mate," he said.
James sighed tiredly, mumbling out a quiet, "Thanks."
"Every time I've watched you, I couldn't quite believe yous are real. Still think so." He wandered over to the living area, reaching out to squeeze James' ankle. "You're just- fantastic."
James lifted his arm off his face and looked up at him with a small smile. That previous fondness returned. Will walked along the length of the sofa to the other end of James. He slid his hand into James' hair, brushing back the strands over his forehead. Will was too tired to make a hairline joke, as he ruffled James' fringe back to the way it was.
"And to think you're… all mine." He was testing the waters.
"Okay, you possessive prick," James said with a chuckle, before shifting himself upright. Will just stood there and watched as the other man opened his arms and beckoned him closer. "C'mere."
Will raised his hands in case James tried to tug him down. "I'm not sitting on you."
James clicked his tongue, and shrugged. "Your loss, man." He patted the place beside him. "Sit with me, then."
"That, I can do."
He collapsed onto the freed up space, bending his legs up on the sofa cushion. James' chin dug into the top of his head as he wrapped an arm Will's shoulder, holding him close to his chest. As they sat there in silence for who knows how long, Will traced his fingertips over the lines of James' forearm tattoos. He could hear the steady thump of James' heart, and just listened for a few minutes. They would need to move to the bedroom before both of them fell asleep - sleeping on the couch like this would certainly fuck up both of their backs.
"Jim?"
James hummed, though he already sounded half-asleep. His fingers twitched under Will's.
"I think I might love you."
Will braced himself for James to jolt awake with an 'it's too early', or an 'I don't love you, not yet'. But all he got was another sleepy hum and a mumble of words that sure sounded like he loved him too. And that was enough for Will.
He'd say it again in the morning - well, maybe the afternoon. Will figured they'd be sleeping for a while.