Archive of Our Own

"Who the fuck booked these?" II grumbles, stepping into one half of the adjoining hotel room and turning annoyed the moment he sees only one queen-sized bed in the middle of it. 

He flips on the cheap plastic switch in the corner of the bland room, illuminating it by the light of the dusty, cream-colored bulb gleaming through a generic lampshade on the bedstand right beside their respective pillows.  

He slides off his shoes and scrunches his toes, frowning deeply with dissatisfaction at the cheap, crunchy carpeting beneath his feet – a nasty greenish blue swirl of color that he finds incredibly tacky. 

The air conditioner tucked beneath the window on the wall opposite the entrance greets them loudly and the noise of it is so winded and rattly that II knows he's not going to get a wink of sleep tonight. 

The clear white curtains are draped over the plastic white machine and blowing wildly and after a long day with already too much overstimulation, II could cry for how little this place feels like a reprieve from it. 

In the next room, III and IV are expressing similar complaints loudly, their dismayed tones streaming in through the faux wooden door connecting the two rooms. 

Behind II, Vessel shuffles in, carrying his two duffle bags and looking a little sad as he sets the bags down in the doorway after a moment and pulls his phone from his joggers pocket. 

II tugs his own from his similar pair of lounge pants and dials their tour manager, eager to find answers and bawl them out for failing to follow clear instructions - two rooms, four beds – how hard was that? 

Vessel's gilded blue eyes meet his as soon as he greets the manager, though, and he draws an imaginary line across his throat with one long finger, shaking his head at the shorter man quickly and crossing his arms wildly in a signal to 'abort mission'. 

II scrunches his eyebrows in confusion, but makes his apologies to Ted, the manager in question, and hangs up quickly. 

"What the fuck, V?" 

Vessel's gaunt cheeks glow red, "I booked these ones, sorry." 

II raises his eyebrows in surprise, "You? Why?" 

Vessel fiddles with his slender hands, rubbing them anxiously over his stomach and hunching his shoulders a bit, like he's trying to shrink into himself. 

"I-I added this show, and so did all these bookings myself," the younger man explains, and II's expression softens a degree with how distressed the singer's features turn, "I thought I got it all right, I didn't realize about the beds - I could call and see-" 

II can already see the color leeching from Vessel's face at the prospect of having to do something as socially fluid as calling the front desk and requesting different rooms, knows that he was just trying to do his best with his limited arsenal of social skills to make sure they were appropriately housed.  

He shakes his head, "It's alright, V." 

Vessel looks up at him, or, at least, that's the way his big blue eyes look, even though II is technically beneath his gaze, he always looks like he's looking up and desperate for such a big man.  

"I'm really sorry," Vessel whispers, hugging himself in the doorway and then trying to shrink into it when a babbling couple stroll past in the dingy, yellow-lit hallway behind him. 

II tugs the younger man inside by one of his hands, grabbing one of the duffels off the floor beside him while Vessel quickly snags the other and follows him in. 

Once the door is closed, II sits the bags on the ancient-looking table in the corner of the room and checks the time. 

"I'll go see if we can sort something else out for accommodations," he says with a tiny sigh, "If we can't, though, because it's so late, then we'll just have to make due." 

He shrugs at the last words and Vessel sits down on the gnarly floral bedspread, his shoes off already, and pulls his knees into his shoulders, resting his chin in the crook between them and rubbing his hands up and down his calves in a calming gesture. 

"I'm really sorry," he breathes out quietly again, as III and IV's complaints grow louder in the next room, which evidently has two twin beds not one queen, which leaves II wondering what on earth they have to complain about. 

II manages a wry smile, "You're alright, you had a lot going on, planning for everything, think you're entitled to a little grace." 

Vessel looks up at him with watery eyes, his tired distress creeping into his handsome features and II is powerless to stop himself from abandoning his trainers on the floor where he was about to put them on. He comes around to Vessel's side of the bed and wraps his brawny arms around the younger man's slender shoulders, rubbing his hands up and down the tops of his arms softly and snuggling him for a second.  

He sways them both just a bit, letting his cheek press into Vessel's own hot one and then holding the position a moment, it's intimate, but such is the nature of tour, and the frontman leans back into II for comfort as he expected. 

"You're allowed to make mistakes," II assures him and then presses a friendly peck into  his hair before patting his arms succinctly and letting go. 

Vessel looks over his shoulder with wide eyes, his auburn hair feathering about as if in wonder of where his cuddles went. 

II laughs and rubs a circle into his sweatshirt-covered back, "If I can't find another bed, there'll be plenty more where that came from, no worries." 

Vessel manages a small smile at that, still scrunched up small in his little ball but looking visibly calmer now. 

He watches the drummer quietly until II puts on his trainers and steps out into the hallway, stopping first to knock on IV and III's door before heading to the lobby. 

"Your guys' sleeping arrangements crazy, too?" he asks laughingly, peeking his head inside once III has opened the ugly door. 

The bassist just laughs and motions him inside, "We've definitely slept in worse, but it's not the most ideal." 

II strolls inside, past the tiny table-turned-desk with a chair pressed beneath it - clearly, these rooms are literally designed for travelling businessmen- which, in fairness, they are, though one of them has an odd penchant for needing a bath in the evenings or else otherwise needing held until he falls asleep. The older man smiles to himself at the thought of Vessel's boyish quirks. 

IV and III's room is very similar to his and Vessel's, only with two devastatingly narrow twin beds separated by a rickety-looking nightstand settled between them.  

II looks around and sees the same standardized mirror on the wall over the table, and a cheap analog clock hanging beside the entryway door. The poorest excuse for a minibar he's ever seen is tucked onto the shelf of what appears to be an IKEA-bought bookshelf placed in the farthest corner of the room beside the window which is a carbon-copy of the one just on the other side of its wall in II's own. 

He laughs at IV, who clearly just doesn't care that much about his accommodations and has already stripped down to his red striped briefs and sprawled starfish-style, face-down on his equally chintzy bedspread.  

"Comfy?" II quips, landing a playful slap to the older man's ass, laughing as his hand bounces right off. 

IV scowls at him sleepily over his shoulder, squinting his big brown eyes and then wiggling his butt inadvertently at the drummer as he squirms further up on the bed. 

"I was," he retorts with an annoyed snort, and II and III both snicker as he grabs a fistful of the comforter beneath him and spins so that he's quickly wrapped up in the thick folds, looking like a very green burrito now and smiling with satisfaction. 

II sees the guitarist's face go lax and his heart cinches a bit as he glances to his right and watches III stifle a yawn, as well, they're so tired. 

He deliberates on the process of switching rooms a moment, "You guys okay here, or do you think we ought to complain and switch?" 

III shrugs to his right but IV shakes his head with a scowl, his mahogany curls swirling wildly, frizzy from all the rubbing they've just done against the bedding. 

"I mean, I don't know what you and V have got goin' on over there, but we're fine here. A bed's a bed. Right, III?" 

III looks eager to agree and rubs the back of his neck tiredly, his bleached hair equally as wild as IV's from the long day of travelling. 

"I just wanna rest, honestly," he tells II, voice even sounding like its a struggle for him to keep speaking, his exhaustion sounding bone-deep, "If you lot are good, I'm gonna get a shower." 

II nods in his direction absently, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to the door connecting their room to his own. 

He cracks it open as III begins to unzip his suitcase on the foot of his bed, pulling out his many bags of bathroom supplies while IV checks out completely, turning his head and snuggling impossibly further into the previously unappealing bedding. 

II opens the door and sneaks a quick check-in on Vessel.  

The room is still palely lit in the next room, but Vessel's tumbled over onto his side, still in his little curled-up position, a finger tucked between his wet lips babyishly and his long lashes falling long across his high cheekbones as he sleeps. 

His messy auburn waves fan out over his forehead and II marvels at how young and small he looks. 

"Well, maybe, I ought to leave it," II remarks to III in a whispered tone, stretching the door wider open for the bassist to take a peek, " I think that's decided it, what do you think?" 

III takes one long step over and cranes his neck to see what II's talking about and his face promptly melts, "Awwww... that's weirdly fucking adorable..." 

II nods quickly, twisting his lips in a cramped smile of affection, "We'll make it work tonight, my god." 
“Look at his wittle face,” III coos, baby-talking dramatically as Vessel wrinkles up his pert, sharp nose in a little show of annoyance as something seems to pester him in his sleep. 

II steps through the door quickly as III returns to his quest for a shower. 

He closes the adjoining door softly behind him and moves over to the bed. 

Vessel's long feet are nestled under him as best he can manage, twisted into awkward positions as he tries to nestle them into himself away from the unnatural cold of the hotel room. 

II gently reaches under him and pulls them out, grimacing at the dampness from the sweaty sports socks he's been wearing all day but getting his fingers up under the tops to pull them down and off. 

Vessel whines and whimpers lightly at the disturbance, scrunching up his nose and eyebrows all at once in a very displeased expression. 

II hums softly to soothe him back down as he finishes the task and then removes the man's keys and wallet from his pants, setting them on the table beside the bed then removing his phone from where he's tucked it under his head and placing it there, too. 

"Vessel," II whispers, delicately shaking the younger man to wake him, "C'mon, buddy, you wanna get under the duvet?" 

Vessel whines, long and high, lips curling back as if in pain, his prominent canines glinting in the soft yellow light. 

He stretches out at first, and II backs away to avoid getting kicked by those long, gangly legs. 

His blue eyes pop open, the red-rims of them accentuating the amber centers as he looks up at II pitifully, holding his arms out as if to be picked up and pouting.  

II laughs and presses his arms down gently, "Think we both know that's a no. Can you scoot up a bit? I'll help you under the covers." 

Vessel grumbles and huffs, his full lower lip jutted out ridiculously, but he sits up - slowly but surely, grunting as if he's much older than he is at the strain on his midsection. 

He places both of his slender hands on the bed on either side of him for stability and forces his body backwards, ass dragging across the covers and wrinkling them from their former tidiness. 

II lays a tender hand on his shoulder when he reaches the top of the bed, stopping him from going any further while he tugs the blankets down from around the pillows and pats his leg to drag them out from under his butt. 

Vessel whines at all the jostling, but II just shushes him with a chuckle, "I know it, I know it, isn't it so awful to be this babied at twenty-five? Ah, what a hard life you lead." 

He tsks playfully, and Vessel, who is still dawdling in that lovely spacey void between sleep and wake, where everything feels fuzzy and vintage around him laughs dopily, a little sheepish blush playing on his cheeks and lips as a tiny smile cracks through his grumpy facade.  

II just smiles warmly at the younger man, helping him slip down onto the sheets and then assisting in maneuvering his legs one foot at a time beneath the duvet, then tugging it back up under his chin snugly. 

He stops for just a second, to turn off the light beside Vessel's bed and stroke one hand lightly across the singer's messy hair.  

He brushes it away from his pale forehead and the moment is so soft and tender when Vessel closes those eyes again and leans into the touch, basking in the contact and doting for just a few minutes as he is prone to. II's heart swells with adoration for the talented young man, and he presses a kiss into Vessel's warm forehead, receiving a gentle little coo that he's certain means he's asleep as the big man would be mortified at such a sound escaping him consciously. 

II flips the lights off completely, dousing the room in darkness as he slips into comfier clothes himself and settles atop the covers, happily doomscrolling and relaxing while his roommate naps dreamlessly beside him. 

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Hours later, II wakes with a gentle start. His phone has migrated down to his chest, where his hands are hot from having fallen loosely over top of it. 

His mouth and throat feel too dry and the room's chill feels like an assault to his skin as sensation begins to creep in again.  

He glances around in the darkness, eyes adjusting to being open again. 

A crisp knock sounds on the door and he remembers suddenly that he's in a hotel, with the boys, and that he's fallen asleep unintentionally.

Shaking off the amnesia of an accidental nap, he clambers out of bed, tossing his phone aside and patting Vessel's back clumsily as he croaks in annoyance at the disturbance. 

He pads over to the door, almost stubbing his toe on the stupid chair jutting out from that useless round table in the corner right before he hits the light switch to the tiny entryway, keeping the rest of the room dark and as comfortable as one can demand a cheap hotel room be.  

He turns the doorknob with a yawn, running his free hand through his buzzed blonde hair and peering out. 

"Hello?" 

On the other side of the door, III's face lights up with a grin.  

IV crops up behind him, almost hidden by the much taller bassist's body, and gives him a little wave awkwardly. 

II opens the door wider and glances at the adjoining bedroom door behind him, "Why didn't you guys just come through there?" 

He points in the direction of it and IV blushes. 

III glowers down at him, shaking his head in obvious disapproval, "Well, seeing as how it opens into the bathroom, we thought it might be rude to open it since someone has put us out of our room for -at least-  the next hour or so while it airs out because of his poor behavior in the toilet." 

II wrinkles up his nose in understanding, eyebrows raising in delight as he fights a smile at pretty and suave IV's mortified expression. 

The older man blushes and slaps at III's shoulder playfully, an action that II finds diabolically funny since IV can scarcely reach said shoulder and barely makes contact with it when he does, III only looking unbotheredly down at him from his menacing six and a half feet. 

"I told you that I was lactose intolerant and you didn't listen!" IV defends himself in dismay, "The petrol station pizza was a terrible idea and you wouldn't leave me alone about eating some until I'd eaten like half of it, give me a break!" 

III rolls his eyes and leans both hands on the wooden doorframe, ducking a little to fit comfortably as he shakes his head at II. 

"Blamin' me for this now, ya see that?" 

II sucks in his lips, stifling a laugh as IV shimmies indignantly into the room past III's bony ass and his own shorter frame. 

"Be nice," he scolds III quietly, though it's said with a chuckle wrapped around it. 

III just steps inside, looking proud at having amused the smaller man. 

IV unapologetically flips on the hotel overhead light and Vessel screeches in dismay from the bed, hastily grabbing at a pillow from II's side of the bed and shoving it over his face with a long whine. 

"IV!" II scolds, flipping the big light off and, instead, turning on his own bedside lamp, offering light to the space without horrifying their disgruntled frontman. 

The three older men gather around the bed, effectively surrounding their youngest member, but nobody bothers him just yet, allowing him to get acclimated to being awake before lambasting him with company as best they can in the close quarters. 

"We were gonna go get dinner," III tells II, "That's why I was tryin' to wake ya, to see if you lot wanted to come with or have us bring back somethin'." 

II rubs at his eyes, still waking up himself as he nods a little dazedly as he settles back on his pillow again a moment, his body reminding him that this is where it had found sleep and would like to do so as soon as possible again.

"Dinner would be good," he murmurs, shaking away his residual sleepiness stubbornly, "What's around?" 

He asks this question to no one in particular, already unlocking and opening his phone, chuckling as he realizes he has fourteen missed calls from III and IV in his notifications. 

He flips the screen around and III laughs, too, IV leaning in and facepalming with amusement too. 

"You'd think around the tenth time you went to voicemail you'd get the vibe I ain't pickin' up," II remarks with a snicker, shaking his head at the two taller men, who both shrug with sheepish grins in defeat, no response to be offered up for their craziness. 

"We were thinkin' Chinese, but whatever sounds good to you sounds good to us," III explains, getting back to the matter at hand, "IV here is against pizza, he says, but other than that, we're flexible." 

He says the last bit with a petty hand wave in IV's direction. The guitarist rolls his eyes and plants his hands on his hips sassily, shaking his head but making no reply. 

II laughs again

"Vessel, you want anything?" 

He taps the covered lump beside him, knowing he's awake - too light of a sleeper not to be. 

A muffled garble is all they get in response, his face still covered with the pillow. 

II glances away from his phone screen to look down at the singer, using one hand to yank the pillow from off his face. 

Vessel hiccups a flabbergasted little cry at finding his face exposed to the light and company, his hands still poised to be clutching the pillow, now vacant and grappling at the air. II ignores his whining displeasure, eager to figure out dinner since it's getting rather late and places will be closing soon. 

"Chinese sound good to you, V?" II tries again, looking up places on his phone that serve it near them. 

Vessel's cheeks flush red and his face scrunches up but he just stares at the ceiling, eyes squinted angrily and his shock of auburn hair sticking up everywhere from sleep. 

III furrows his brows in concern, "Everything okay? You don't look too good." 

He presses one large hand to Vessel's forehead but the younger man shakes it off instantly, rolling over towards II and taking his pillow back forcefully to curl around, hiding his face in it. 

II shakes his head, "Ohhhh, no. We're not making any midnight snack runs tonight, mate, what do you want?" 

"Not hungry," Vessel rasps, peaking one eye out blearily before closing it tight again. 

IV leans over to get a better look at him as he reveals just a little of his handsome face, inwardly remarking on how - all nestled against his pillow with the warm coppery brown of his hair lying against his creamy complexion and the glint of one gold earring in his ear he looks so whimsical and sweet.  

"Aren't you just the cutest?" he says aloud, reaching a hand out to pinch Vessel's freckled cheek lightly. 

It isn't hard, but II can sense the freakout only seconds before it happens. 

Vessel snaps upright, scrambling backwards up against the headboard, knocking the spare pillow out of the way as his eyes gleam, troubled and wide. 

"Leave me alone," he cries, looking startled and betrayed, chin a little wobbly and voice tremulous, "I just want to sleep - what the fuck?" 

"Whoa, calm down," III orders him gently, holding both hands out as if to calm a scared animal. 

IV has stepped back from the bed, holding his hand like he's been burned and II and III share his look of shock as the younger man takes a deep inhale and shoves his palms into his eyes, trying to breathe calmly again. 

"Everything alright?" II asks delicately, setting down his phone for a second and reaching to pull one of Vessel's arms down from his face. 

The younger man jerks sharply away, the tiniest, almost as imperceptible as it is breathless sob coming from beneath his hands. 

II looks to the other two with concern. 

IV shrugs and shakes his head, clueless. 

III mouths discreetly, "Is he sick?" 

II shakes his head with a shrug, he can't be sure but he's as sure as he can be. 

Vessel keeps his hands over his face, continuing to take deep breaths. 

The other three stay silent, and only III moves forward, carefully sitting down beside Vessel and putting his arm very slowly around his shoulders, careful not to squeeze or crowd him too much. 

"You wanna talk about it?" III asks carefully, voice measured as he tries to peer around to Vessel's face since he's sitting a little bit behind him. 

Vessel doesn't seem to hear him, and III decides executively the best thing to do right now is continue with life around him. 

Which he does, one arm around the younger man for comfort, just in case. 

"Let's just get that place up the road," he tells II, who looks a little taken aback as he jerks his gaze from Vessel, but nods slowly. 

"That sounds fine, what do you want?" 

They set about putting in their order and when it comes time to finalize Vessel's order, III simply says, "He usually likes whatever I get so just order, like, two of everything and when it gets here, we'll share or I'll have seconds." 

IV smirks at that, the first sign of amusement since this conversation started. 

His eyes are fixed firmly on Vessel, who is making the quietest gasping sobs one has ever heard, but they're there and the only comfort he seems willing to accept at the moment is III's arm ever so lightly tucked around his shoulders. 

II appears equally troubled by this, but soon, the order is placed and they're sorting out who's going to go get it from the lobby, distracted from Vessel, finally.  

The younger man remains in his crouched, covered position a few more seconds before tentatively peeking out and finding it's only III, tucked around him now, and the others are putting on their shoes, having decided they'll just both have to go down. 

III is quiet and careful as he gingerly asks, "You okay?" 

Vessel is almost startled at the question but quickly nods, "Just tired." 

III nods, eyes unconvinced but expression soft as he squeezes the slender man's shoulder tenderly and smiles, "Dinner and a movie?" 

Vessel nods eagerly, hoping no one can see what he can feel are his stinging red eyes and flushed cheeks, "That sounds nice." 

III cuffs his shoulder lightly and releases him. 

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They stay up late into the night, watching James Bond films on IV's enormous laptop that he carts around just for film-watching purposes on the road. 

They all fall to sleep one by one. 

Vessel is first, to absolutely nobody's surprise, collapsed back against his pillows, newly showered and PJed and snoring loudly, something he only does when he's truly exhausted. 

His mouth gapes wide and drool streams from the side of his mouth, but II and III tuck him up to his neck in blankets. 

II falls asleep laughing to himself at the ridiculousness of their frontman. 

III falls asleep against IV's shoulder, the pair of them sprawled across the foot of the other guys' bed. 

It's IV, the oldest of them, who groans and knocks III off his chest as he's starting to nod off himself, then taps the taller man awake.  

He shuts his laptop, forces III to his feet, the bassist half-growling at the disturbance and then helps him through the connecting bathroom to their room. 

It's this shuffling, and III sitting down on his foot, turning it the wrong way and pinching his muscles that wakes Vessel, who pretends to still be asleep, not wanting to engage with people right now. 

He curls up tight into himself until he hears the other door close, III hollering out as he stubs his toe on a doorframe and IV comforting and shushing him quickly, then silence. 

In the darkness, the room seems to grow around him, the warmth that has been at his feet all evening is gone and now the bed feels strangely wide and empty, even with II's little body curled on the other side. 

The air conditioner is too loud, much too loud and he doesn't like the flapping of the sheer curtain. 

The scent in the air is unnatural and clinical and he doesn't like it at all. 

His eyes sting, he feels so small and foreign in this place. 

The darkness seems even more foreboding than usual, he's got no nightlight here to ward it off. 

The cold is cruel and bites at his cheek and the blanket feels stiff and thin across his body. 

He turns over, seeking comfort, trying to find II, who murmurs as he tucks into him but doesn't shove him off, and Vessel tries to calm himself by listening to his heartbeat. 

It doesn't work. 

II doesn't know he's there, and he's so stiff and small suddenly that Vessel's heart squeezes. 

Nothing feels like home. 

Nothing feels comfy. 

Nothing is warm and fuzzy. 

He coughs on a quiet sob and sneaks from the bed, feeling light on his feet and a little dizzy. 

He hates walking on the floor in the dark on a normal basis but in this nasty hotel, especially, he despises it. 

He hates that it feels like something's lurking under the bed, like something might grab his goosepimpled ankle. 

He doesn't like how crinkly the floor feels beneath his feet. 

He stumbles forward and slams his hand on the bathroom wall light, trying to be quiet but only really focused on getting the light on. 

It turns on and floods his senses, the awful vent fan turning on with it, and suddenly he's feeling nauseous.  

His whole body feels like it's under siege, like everything is attacking him all at once, and he drops to the floor in front of the toilet, uncaring if he closed both doors or not. 

Everything is closing in at once. 

Everything is horrible. 

He just wants to go home. 

He winds up kneeling on that awful tile floor, his hair curling around his face and adding to the general anxious feeling that keeps growing with every new thing hurled at his overwrought senses. 

Tears wend down his cheeks. 

He gasps, feeling like he's drowning in them. 

His nose is burning, it's too blurry to see. 

He's not even aware either of the door opened until there are hands touching him. 

Their touch is too much, he shoves away with a cry. 

He's frightened and curls up tightly between the meager excuse for a shower and toilet, covering his head and convulsing with sobs. 

"Hey, hey, hey," someone is saying, he knows he should know that voice. 

He should, he should, he should. 

His mind is empty, though, he can't form a thought, everything is so blurry even inside his head. 

"Vessel," someone is saying firmly, "Vessel, it's II. IV's here, too." 

"Hey, buddy," IV's voice is timid and meek, it doesn't matter it's all too loud. 

"G-go away-" Vessel cries, drool dripping down his chin and adding to his general awfulness as he looks up, he doesn't even feel human, anymore, just gross and so, so heavy. 

"Heyyyy...." II drolls kneeling in front of him, hands up in surrender, "Can you take one big breath for me? Just one." 

Vessel can't, and sobs as much, covering his face roughly with his hands and banging his head into the wall. 

He's not sure why. 

He slams his head backwards again, savoring the dull pain that erupts when he does. He does it again, despite IV’s cry of dismay, and, the next thing he knows he’s thoroughly caged between the tiled wall behind him, the toilet and bathtub on either side of him and now II, who is half straddling his hiked-up knees to place his hands behind Vessel’s head and cushion the blow as he tries to thrust backwards again. 

II grunts in pain but stands resolutely. 

Vessel cries out in frustration, opening his eyes and finding his entire field of vision full of the older man, who shakes his head firmly as he looks down at him, looking both concerned and furious. 

“Stop that,” II orders firmly, his voice brooking no argument, ”I need you to find your words and tell me what’s wrong.” 

Vessel sobs and lurches forward, burying his face into II’s belly, drenching the front of his grey wifebeater with snot, saliva and tears quickly as II cards his fingers through his hair softly, cradling the back of his head and hushing lightly, still awkwardly straddling the much larger man. 

“Nothing feels right, II,” Vessel wails, hiccupping and rubbing his cheek through the snot on II’s shirt. 

II grimaces as the dampness seeps through to his skin beneath, but he says nothing. 

“What feels wrong?” he asks tentatively, huffing as he carefully holds Vessel up against himself tighter as he pulls his leg from the other side of the man and then shuffles around so he’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub. 

More comfortably positioned now, he shifts Vessel so he’s between his legs, still snuffling but the moving seeming to gently pry him from the worst of his crying. 

"It's just- I don't know- m-my body feels w-weird," Vessel tries to explain, voice breaking as hot tears squeeze out of his squinted eyes, his fists balled up in II's shirt for comfort. 

II hushes softly, eyes worried as he strokes back Vessel's hair, "You're okay, I've got you, try to relax, love."  

Vessel gazes up at II weakly, his eyes welling again as his bottom lip wobbles feebly, his nose hitches with his short, ragged breaths every few seconds. 

Behind him, IV creeps up slowly, crouching and closing him in between II's legs and his own body. 

"Heyyyy, buddy," he greets him, voice high and soft, a gentle smile on his lips as he sweeps in as if this is the most exciting part of his night, but he knows Vessel is shaky just now and wants to ease him into it. 

His hand immediately moves to card through Vessel's mussed hair, as the younger man turns his head to look up at the guitarist, eyes following his figure as he kneels down and then sits crisscross applesauce on the linoleum floor. 

III is hovering in the doorway from their bedroom now, eyes wide and sleep heavy but lined with concern for the younger man, as he waits patiently to join the little group in the uncomfortably bright bathroom. He watches Vessel shivering and convulsing under the white light, the wall he's leaning against vibrating lightly with the sound of the fan overhead. 

IV reaches a hand slowly out to coax Vessel into his hold, and he doesn't shove the guitarist away, but III can see  the flicker of pain in the younger man's eyes and his own brows furrow with confusion as he watches. 

Vessel's eyes flit upwards, just for a moment, and III follows them with his own to see the man flinching violently at the bluish-white brutality that is the overhead light. 

Vessel's muscles are taut and his body stiff even with IV and III holding him so carefully. 

His head keeps turning on his swiveling neck as he seems to struggle to figure out where he should look, or at whom. 

III sees his head tilt back to look up again, and this time, his silence is broken and a pained, desperate sob escapes. 

III moves from the doorway, bare feet slapping the ugly tiled floor beneath them as he leans over the tiny porcelain sink and IV's mess of mahogany curls, earning a puzzled look from the older man.  

His ocean blue eyes follow III's long arm as it barely has to reach to flip the little switch at the top of the vanity mirror, simultaneously switching off the overhead light beside the doorway. 

The tall man's ears ring hollow for just a moment as the buzz of the vent vanishes and warm, yellow light drapes itself over the bathroom gently. 

Vessel gasps from the floor and collapses a moment later into IV's chest, weakly shuddering with relief. 

III sets the lid of the toilet down and straddles the little seat as he joins the tiny chorus of murmurs, all focused on comforting the younger man, who now clings to IV's neck while II's hand strokes down the length of his long neck and back. 

"That's it," IV soothes, and he looks up to III gratefully, who waves a hand carelessly, only reaching down to tug Vessel's shirt lower where it's ridden up his back, exposing his skin to the cool porcelain of the toilet he's leaned against. 

Vessel hums sweetly against IV's chest and II purses his lips sympathetically as he watches the younger man's face slowly relax into that young, tired expression. 

II gestures to IV to give him to him, leaning forward on the edge of the tub and carefully gathering the singer into his arms, pressing him back into his own embrace now, IV  gingerly fixing the hair matted to his face from where he was resting against him. 

"Are you feeling better?" II asks softly, rubbing circles into his back where he's holding him upright. 

Vessel sniffles and nods, his eyes earnest, "I-I'm sorry- I don't know what happened, I just wasn't feeling very good and then it just got too much and-" 
II cuts him off with a soft hush, “You’re okay, there’s no reason to get worked up again, you’re okay. Take a breath and we’ll try to work out what made you feel so bad, lovey.” 

III reaches behind him to reach the toilet paper roll, winds the strip around his hand a few times and then pulls it off, handing it to II. 

II nods his gratitude and then gently presses the wad of tissue to Vessel's nose, grasping it and instructing quietly, "Blow for me." 

Vessel looks up with wide eyes as he obeys and II cradles the back of his head to support him while his eyes squeeze closed, IV's hand moving to replace his at his spine while he does. 

II tosses the tissue away carelessly after dabbing at his face to tidy him up a bit more, Vessel's face scrunching occasionally under his ministrations. 

III reaches over II with a disapproving look to grab the tissue and dispose of it properly, earning a tiny smile of amusement from the drummer before he returns to Vessel, who has already anxiously started talking to IV. 

"I-it was too cold, and the room feels wrong to me, it's too loud-" 

Vessel lays out all the room's flaws, looking up cautiously at IV who only nods sympathetically, his blue eyes soft and caring as he rubs up and down the younger man's shins in comfort. 

Vessel hiccups a bit, his bottom lip jutting out again a bit, trembling," It makes my skin feel like it's scratchy and I just want to-want to-" 

He cuts off, suddenly nestling into II's thigh with a little sob, almost sending the drummer backwards into the tub with the abrupt movement. 

II quickly schools his surprise, though, and leans down to totally encompass Vessel in his arms, "Too much overstimulation, huh?" 

Vessel nods with a little whimper, "It makes me wanna cry..." 

Which he does, though more quietly now. 

III and IV's faces match II's melted expression as they all lean just a bit further in, to be closer to the young man. 

"Do you wanna sleep somewhere else...?" II asks softly, stroking down his hair lightly, "I could say there were bedbugs or something and move us if we need to." 

IV nods, brows furrowed seriously with concern, "Or is there anything we can do in here that would make things a little bit better, maybe?" 

III looks up at the vanity light curiously when Vessel doesn't answer, II only hushing him when his crying grows in intensity. 

"The light seemed to help?" III points out thoughtfully, "Maybe that's what he needs – dim the lights, cuddle'im, find some extra blankets, and see if we can turn off the air conditioner?" 

II nods, musing with his lips pursed a moment before gingerly tugging Vessel's face from his lap to cup it on either side softly, swiping away tears still mid-fall with his thumbs as the last of a broken sob erupts from the younger man. 

"What would help most, hm?" he asks tenderly, pressing his lips firmly to Vessel's forehead in a long, careful kiss. 

"Wanna be like we were earlier," Vessel rasps poutily, "When everybody was with me and it was warm and-" 

II nods as Vessel's voice breaks, "Sleepy cuddle pile, then, yeah?" 

Vessel squeezes his eyes closed tightly, his pinkened features scrunching up in a stifled sob of anguish. 

"Come here, sweetheart," II coos, taken aback by the heartbroken expression, "What's the matter? It's gonna get better, it's not gonna be awful anymore." 

Vessel clings to II's neck while III taps IV's shoulder and gestures with his head for them to take their leave. 

"I've got you," II soothes, over and over like it's all he knows, "I've got you and you're gonna be alright." 
IV and III pass through the tiny bathroom carrying their blankets and pillows, IV making a sympathetic expression to II as he pouts his lips, nodding to Vessel. 

II pouts right back, the two of them acknowledging how hard the younger man is tugging on their heartstrings. 

"I don't wanna tour anymore," Vessel croaks, voice low and broken, " I wanna go home, back to London, and be in my own bed with my lights and my stars-" 
II squeezes him close, “Oh, buddy...” 
“Can we go home, now?” he asks weakly, and II doesn’t answer immediately, deliberating because he knows Vessel well enough to know this isn’t an actual question. 

The singer's far too aware of all the consequences and complications of quitting a tour to actually mean any of that, but II kisses his ear softly, anyways. 

Tells him quietly, "Yeah, buddy, if you want, we can go home to London. We can cozy down in the living room with Harry Potter and hot chocolate, we can build your new Lego set, we can finish Silksong, finally- whatever you need." 

He pauses here, eyes fixed firmly on the cheap wooden cabinet past Vessel's shoulder, "What do you need, hm?" 

Vessel sniffles, arching his back to lean up more into II's embrace from where his bottom is planted on the floor. 

"Just need you, II," he whispers, voice raspy and hardly more than a croak now from all the crying, "I'll be okay, I just need you." 

II nods, rubbing a circle into his back, "That's a good boy, you just need held awhile, hm?" 

Vessel hiccups, jolting them both in their odd position. 

He nods slowly, and II's neck is aching from the odd angle and Vessel's arms half dragging him down, but he stays where he is until the younger man pulls away, swiping at his eyes and nose. 

"That felt overdramatic," Vessel scolds himself quietly, and II strokes back his damp fringe  softly, shaking his head. 

"Everyone can do with a good cry every now and again," he assures him, "I found IV in the toilet holding his mum's dog's photo and sniffing just the other day." 

Vessel smiles a little at that mental image. 

"Being homesick looks different on everyone," II tells him gently, "On me, it looks a little like alcoholism." 

He gives Vessel a sheepish grin, an obvious nod to the other night when he'd stumbled in positively wasted to the hotel, III practically carrying him while he sang the entire soundtrack of The Lion King at the top of his lungs until IV clamped a very annoyed hand over his mouth. 

Vessel nods in recollection, giggling to himself in spite of everything. 

"On you, it looks like panic attacks and overstimulation, and on IV it looks like a mad attempt to get a bad case of hemorrhoids – but none of it's wrong. " 

"Does III get homesick?" Vessel asks curiously, and II's just so happy to hear his old curiosity back that he smiles wildly. 

He shrugs, "Think III's more prone to missing being on the road with everyone here than missing home where - to be frank- he hasn't got a lot of company." 

Vessel's eyes grow round and watery. 

"H-he hasn't got anybody?" 

II realizes his mistake too late. 

"I mean, I don't know for sure, of course," II clarifies, "I've just always understood that-" 
“III!” Vessel cries urgently, looking with distress towards the entrance to the bathroom. 

III appears a split second later, looking surprised and slightly confused," ....Yes...?" 

"Come here," Vessel orders, and II can already tell this is going interesting places when the younger man's face screws up tearily again and he reaches his arms up. 

III is surprisingly unphased, leaning down and letting the younger man wrap his arms around his neck. 

II meets his eyes over his shoulder, questions lurking in both of their blue depths. 

"I'm so sorry, III," Vessel rasps suddenly, and III takes on the more authoritative role here as he sits down and scoots forward so that the slightly smaller man is nestled up against him, "I'm so sorry." 

III's brows furrow, "What the hell for?" 

"You're all-all alone-" 

A broken sob escapes Vessel and now IV's watching in utter amusement from the doorway. 

"Think you need sleep, little brother," III murmurs, one brow lifted curiously at II, patting Vessel's back with a sigh, "I'm all good, buddy." 

"You haven't even got a dog?" 

III narrows his eyes at II, who holds his hands up in surrender, "I haven't but I'm allergic to them things so I sort of figured that was a win." 

"That-that's s-so sad," Vessel sobs again, shaking now. 

III blinks in confusion.  

II scratches the back of his head. 

"Okay, big boy," IV laughs, swooping in as the oldest to do what the other two won't, "You're off your ass sleepy-silly. Let's go cuddle." 

Vessel lets out a big yawn as IV tugs him backwards by his underarms. 

He reaches out for III, who is busy shaking his head and pinching his brows while II's shoulders shake in silent laughter. The taller man pats Vessel's ass lamely, amused and shaking his head at their youngest's antics. 

IV wrestles Vessel out of the bathroom, earning a most unmanly squeal when the taller man's lack of coordination combined with his sleeplessness causes him to catch his crotch on the sharp corner of the vanity. 

II and III jump up at the pained cry and Vessel wails, burying his face in IV's shoulder and biting down hard, earning a whine from IV, who grits his teeth and tries to bear it, looking to the others for help. 

In desperation, IV does the only thing he can think to do and starts rubbing Vessel's crotch quickly to try and alleviate the pain. 

Vessel’s eyes widen in horror as his cheeks flush crimson. 

A minute later, III manages to pry the man away from him, earning a screech from Vessel who tries to cover his tenting pants desperately, but II is genuinely concerned for him and tugs his hands away. 

IV grimaces, "Oh, guys." 

Vessel reaches his hand under the cold tap before anyone can say anything and only too late does III catch on to what's happening, quickly yanking II's hands away and corralling him and IV towards the door, "Oh, mate..." 

It's too late, though, Vessel's hand – now ice cold and bright red- is down the front of his pants and the younger man breathes deeply, biting down into the edge of his other palm. 

All three of his bandmates cringe. 

Vessel slumps forward, grasping the edge of the vanity and whimpering. 

The tent in his pants is definitively gone. 

Nobody speaks for a moment. 

IV clears his throat softly, "Well...that was perfectly...horrible... to watch...ummm....are we ready for cuddles now?" 

Vessel nods, humbled thoroughly and silent. 

The other three let him pass. 

Almost reverent in their silence. 

"That was the manliest energy he's had tonight," III murmurs, and II elbows him hard in the stomach, though IV and him giggle a bit. 

"Leave him be," II scolds, and files in after the younger man who sprawls out on the King-sized bed and opens his arms for them all, pouting and beckoning with his fingers. 

III’s face softens, “You big ol'softie, Vess.” 
Vessel blushes with a tiny smile, jutting out his bottom lip pathetically and II reaches up to peck him on his cheek, “And we wouldn’t have him any other way.” 
Vessel’s nose twitches and II watches his expression flicker, but he settles quickly as III curls into his one side, swatting at his arm to tuck him under his own frightening wing span. IV nestles in behind II, cocooning him between him and Vess but still comfortably fitting in the bed, albeit without much wiggle room. 

“Please don’t leave when I fall to sleep,” Vessel pleads quietly, looking up at III but speaking to them all as his long fingers curl around II’s smaller ones on the other side, “It’s scariest once I fall to sleep.” 

“We’re gonna stay, buddy,” IV assures him and pulls II and Vessel into him firmly. 

III scoots in on the other side, and suddenly Vessel is sniffling again. 

“Hey, don’t cry,” III and IV are swooping in, hands everywhere, trying to soothe the younger man immediately. 

“I-I can’t help it-It's-It's- I'm happy, I swear- it's just-” 

“Lotta feelings at once, huh?” II comments, pursing his lips and isolating Vessel in his arms for a moment, letting him rest his head on his shoulder to cry for a second while he splays a hand across one cheek, shielding him from the rest of the room, “That's just how his feelings work themselves out, nothing wrong with it.” 

“Nothing wrong with me-” Vessel whispers in a raspy tone, mostly to himself as III flips the TV on and rubs his hand down Vessel’s side gently, a subtle show of comfort and acceptance. 

IV turns to watch the screen to not make Vessel uncomfortable but keeps the arm he has sprawled over II draped over Vessel's bony hip lightly, a grounding weight.

II presses a reassuring kiss into the back of Vessel's hand, “Just right the way you are.” 

Vessel turns his face into his neck and curls tightly, wetting it but not sobbing now. 

II knows they’re tears of relief and strokes the side of his head soothingly while the movie starts and he drifts seamlessly off into a dreamless sleep. 

“Sweet boy,” II whispers, and kisses his cheek once he’s sure he’s asleep, savoring the gentle tickle of Vessel’s warm breath from his nose over the cool skin where he’s been weeping down the side of his neck. 

They all fall asleep, entangled in each other’s arms.