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Touring is exhausting. Anthony loves it regardless, but he always finds a certain point where it starts to tip into too much. It’s as rewarding as it is draining. Still, there’s nothing he’d rather be doing. He spends the majority of his time on the road because it’s what he needs to survive.
Unfortunately, touring is nothing if not full of sacrifice. He gives up his right to privacy and a comfortable mattress when he signs up to sleep in a Bandwagon with his bandmates. He’s forced to always be “on” even when he isn’t onstage, performing for either his fans in meet & greets or his friends in private where they insist he can be himself and Anthony refuses to believe them.
He feels like he’s walking along a very thin line. He tells Keith not to talk to him in a tone that’s meaner than he intended because he’s afraid any additional stimulation will make him spiral out of control. He walks laps around the venue parking lot until the first fan’s arrival forces him back into his bus. He practices his patient deep breaths through the many, many errors that happen during soundcheck.
He’s fine. He’s cool.
Touring with some of his best friends means being surrounded by people who know him on a level he never before knew possible. Sometimes, he swears they can read his mind with a single glance. It has its benefits and its disadvantages.
The second Geoff lays eyes on him after finishing his own soundcheck, he knows something is wrong. Anthony is visibly out of sorts. It would be obvious to anyone who even vaguely knew him. For Geoff, it’s like he practically has a flashing neon sign above his head. The fact that he is leaning up against the side of the bus smoking a cigarette and not his usual vape says enough.
“Anthony,” Geoff calls from a few paces away.
Immediately, Anthony’s head snaps up. His tear-filled eyes can’t quite meet Geoff’s. Geoff can’t fault him for it. Anthony takes a long drag of his cigarette. Nicotine burns his lungs. Geoff wonders who he begged to hand that over. “Yeah?”
Geoff snaps his fingers once and points at the ground in front of him. “Come.”
Anthony squints. “What?”
“You heard me. Come, pet.”
He frowns, breathing in another lungful of toxins. “I’m almost done. Let me finish this one.”
“That was a command and not a suggestion, Anthony.”
Anthony pauses. The authoritative tone of Geoff’s voice causes him to hesitate. Anthony risks a glance upward, and the stonehearted expression on Geoff’s face says he won’t get very far with arguing. He sighs and stomps out his cigarette with his tennis shoe. Wordlessly, he crosses the blacktop until he’s standing in front of Geoff. Geoff nods approvingly. “Good. Come on, we’re going inside.”
Anthony sighs but doesn’t talk back. He lets Geoff take his hand and lead him back onto the bus. The remaining stragglers of their crew that are still in the lounge when they step on clear out with whatever look Geoff gives them. Anthony can’t tell how this is about to go.
Geoff brings Anthony to the lounge at the back of the bus. It’s just about the only private place they have on tour. In a world of curtains separating their sleeping quarters, the lounge door locks, and Anthony has learned over the years that the sturdy wood is rather soundproof, too.
He and Geoff have gotten significant use out of this space this tour. It’s where the blonde vocalist drags Anthony for a variety of reasons. When Anthony is having a meltdown and needs a quiet place to self-regulate. When Anthony has acted up one too many times and Geoff needs to put him back in his place. When Geoff spirals about everyone hating him and Anthony has to show him how loved he is.
Anthony isn’t sure why Geoff has brought him here now. Still, he falls easily onto the couch with Geoff. Geoff’s hand weaves through his hair. “Poor pup,” he murmurs. Anthony’s heart immediately begins to race. He fights every instinct telling him to run as Geoff tries to find his eyes. “Sweet thing. What’s got you upset?”
Anthony sniffs. “Nothing,”
“Ah, ah, lying isn’t okay, and you know that.” Geoff says. Anthony is infuriated by how calm he sounds. “And you don’t hunt down a cigarette to smoke over ‘nothing’. Do you want to try again?”
Anthony squirms. “Hit me.”
Geoff’s touch on his scalp stays enragingly soft and gentle. “No, pup, I don’t think that’s what you need right now.” he says. Anthony isn’t placated by pleasantries and reason. He wants to hurt, he wants to be reckless, he wants all the things he knows aren’t good for him. That’s why he has Geoff. Geoff is reasonable and rational even when Anthony doesn’t want him to be. He only lets Anthony seek out harm in healthy doses, in controlled environments that he can monitor. Anthony knows it’s for the best, and he hates it every time, regardless.
“You don’t know what I need.” Anthony argues.
Geoff laughs. He doesn’t need to say anything; they both know that is far from the truth. Geoff knows Anthony inside and out. There’s no part of him that Geoff has not seen. Anthony is simply being difficult for the sake of it.
He doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he leans down and kisses Anthony on his forehead. “You must be awfully pent up to be fighting me so hard, pup.” Geoff says, the words muttered against Anthony’s skin. “Come on. You know better. You know I just want what’s best for you.”
And Anthony does know that. But he’s stuck with the deep-seated belief that he’s horribly and irrevocably damaged and, therefore, forever undeserving of all of the kindness that Geoff shows him. Everything in his brain tells him not to fight, that Geoff is right, that Geoff is what he needs. Somewhere deep inside of him, he’s still too scared to fully let go.
Geoff cradles the back of his skull and gently lowers him down until Anthony’s head is lying in his lap. One of Geoff’s hands scratches softly at Anthony’s scalp while the other comes to rub large, broad strokes over his stomach. Anthony’s hands fly to cover his face. He knows without looking that Geoff is staring at him with far more love and kindness than he deserves.
“Poor pup,” Geoff says softly. “You just gotta give in to it, baby boy. Let me take care of you.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me.”
“Yeah, you do,” Geoff counters, voice as stoic as ever. “And that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with needing some help. I love you. That’s what I’m here for.”
That’s what gets Anthony to break. The reminder that Geoff loves him. Anthony sobs, tears pouring out of his eyes and catching on his calloused palms. Geoff doesn’t tell him to be quiet. He doesn’t ask him to stop. He just continues petting him, like he has absolutely nothing better to be doing. Anthony can’t hear him, but beneath the sound of his sobs, Geoff is muttering quiet declarations of love and reminders that he’s right here, not going anywhere.
Anthony’s brain is filled with all of the things he has left to do. Soundcheck is complete, but that means VIP is on the horizon, and he has absolutely zero concept of time. It’s hard to keep track of anything when Geoff is coaxing him down into a soft headspace where nothing else matters besides the sound of his voice and the touch of his fingers.
Anthony wants to fight back. He wants to reason with Geoff that he can’t go down right now. Geoff wouldn’t listen. Geoff would tell him that it’s his job to obey orders and not give them. Anthony doesn’t have it in him to argue.
“Just relax,” he hears Geoff say. His tone is just convincing enough for Anthony to want to give in. He’d give everything over to him if the other man asked.
Sniffling, Anthony dries his eyes the best he can, but Geoff’s figure still appears blurry. “Fuck me,” Anthony begs. “It’ll make me feel better.”
Geoff shakes his head. “No, it won’t.” he says. “Honey, you forget that I know you. Have you ever won an argument against me?”
No, he hasn’t.
Anthony crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. His eyes close. Geoff’s touch on his stomach feels good. It’d be easy to let himself go under. And he’ll admit…the prospect of not thinking sounds awfully good. His head is swimming, full of thoughts he can’t grasp hold of and concepts that make him panic.
Anthony waves his hand around his head. “It’s all just…full.”
“I know, pup,” Geoff says, pulling a whine out of Anthony. “Let me do the worrying for you. There’s nothing you need to stress about right now.”
“There’s a lot—“
“Nope,” Geoff interrupts. “Nope. There’s noooooothing you need to worry about right now. I’m here to do all the worrying for you. They’re my problems now.”
Anthony huffs out of defiance more than aggravation. “You don’t even know what’s wrong.” he pouts.
“Yes, I do. Because I know everything. Remember?”
Anthony can practically hear the grin Geoff is surely sporting. He groans into his hands. He’s nearly at his breaking point. He’s tired of fighting it any longer. Geoff is here with him, and that makes it safe, even when the unknown feels scary. It doesn’t matter how many times he does this. It always feels like free-falling without a parachute and hoping somebody is there to catch him. Geoff always is. Always, always, always.
Anthony takes a deep breath and focuses on Geoff rubbing his torso. Petting, he’s petting you like a dog, like his dog. Geoff silences the whine that comes out of Anthony as the thought crosses his mind. “Just keep breathing for me, pup.” he encourages. “You’re doing so good.”
Anthony grumbles. “Wanna be your pup,”
“Aw, sweet thing,” Geoff frowns. “You’re always my pup. It’s always inside of you.” Geoff pauses to jab his fingers under Anthony’s ribcage, causing the other man to giggle. “You just have to allow yourself to tap into it. It’s okay. I’m here. It’s safe to do this, Anthony, you know that.”
“You keep me safe.” Anthony sniffles.
“That’s right,” Geoff says. “That’s right. I keep you safe. Now come on and take some deep breaths for me, pup. I know you can do it.”
Anthony would do anything for Geoff to keep talking to him in that soft, tender voice, so he matches his inhales and exhales to the exaggerated ones Geoff is taking. The quiet around them feels suffocating, but it’s hard to focus on anything else besides Geoff’s body heat surrounding him. He hasn’t stopped petting him once.
“I wanna be your good boy.” Anthony whimpers.
“You are my good boy, Anthony. Every second of every day. Even when you aren’t feeling well, you’re still my good boy. I know that’s hard to believe sometimes, but I love you just the way you are in this moment. Regardless of how you might think of yourself…know that I love you.”
“I love you.” Anthony sobs as a fresh wave of tears washes over him. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry.”
“Shh, not a thing to be sorry for, pup.” Geoff says. “I love you on your best days and your worst. I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to ‘perform’ for me. I like this version of Anthony, even if you don’t.”
Anthony scrunches his nose. “I’m trying.”
“Stop trying. I don’t need you to try.” Geoff says. “Come on. Where’s my pup at? That’s all I want, honey. Give in. I’m right here, Anthony. You’re safe.”
Anthony has no choice to believe him. His hands, with palms half curved, come to cover his eyes as he focuses on his deep and intentional breaths. Slowly, the fog in his head starts to clear. The swirl of heavy thoughts that never seems to clear dissipates with every inhale and exhale. Geoff’s encouraging voice helps him down. He can only deny being his good boy so many times before he must accept that it’s objectively true.
“Good boy, Tony,” Geoff praises in a tone of voice that says he’s aware Anthony is firmly in pupspace. And he’s right. Anthony is far too tired to pretend he doesn’t want this any longer. He hates himself for fighting as hard as he has thus far. He should know better by now.
“‘m sorry,” Anthony slurs, the letters clumsy on his tongue.
“Don’t,” Geoff shakes his head. “I’m happy to have you just like this.”
Anthony stretches out, bony limbs knocking into Geoff’s as he moves. He’s comfortable against all odds, sprawled across the cushions with his head in Geoff’s lap. He’s halfway convinced that it doesn’t actually matter what physical position he is in, because he’s happy as long as Geoff is touching him.
“My boy,” Geoff murmurs fondly. “You look like you’d rather be asleep.”
And for once, Anthony doesn’t argue. He doesn’t think of to-do lists and deadlines to be met. He doesn’t think of checklists that need to be completed before doors. He doesn’t think of anything besides Geoff. Nobody else needs him right now. Nothing is urgent to the point where it can’t wait…and if it is, Geoff will handle it.
Anthony rolls onto his side. He nuzzles his nose into Geoff’s stomach, breathing in his scent there. His knees pull up towards his chest. Geoff never stops running his fingers through his hair. His displaced hand pets over Anthony’s ribcage and down the expanse of his back instead when he can no longer reach his stomach.
“Yeah, that’s a good pup.” Geoff says. “I’ve got you. You can rest now. I’ll wake you before VIP; I promise you won’t miss anything important.”
Anthony nods. He can work with that. It won’t be a long rest, but it is well-deserved and undoubtedly earned regardless. Part of Anthony wants to ask Geoff for verification that he won’t leave once he’s asleep. He refrains. Geoff is touching him so gently and coaxing him asleep by humming a quiet tune. Anthony knows there is nowhere he’d rather be than right here, right now. Anthony is inclined to feel the same.
More than halfway asleep, with his speech jumbled, Anthony slurs out, “Good boy?”
“Yes, baby,” Geoff ruffles his hair. “The best boy.”
That’s enough validation for Anthony. The world fades away into darkness as he lets sleep consume him, safe in Geoff’s arms.