It's hard, usually, to date dudes in bands. The good news is that, really, Brian doesn't date all that much.
He hooks up, yeah. He has no dearth of backstage blowjobs and handjobs in dark alleys, and he generally isn't relying on his own right and left hand except when that's what he'd prefer. He’s not dating, he’s hooking up and, thank god, hooking up with dudes in bands is a whole different world. For whatever reason, it's not awkward, it's not strange, and there are rarely strange looks over the top of tangled cables to deal with.
It's vastly preferable to hooking up with civilians.
The problems come when the hookup either turns into a relationship, which is complicated, or into a not-relationship, which is even more complicated. Fortunately (or unfortunately), Bob fell into the latter category.
Brian should probably have known better than to start looking, like, with intent. He should have known that Bob was too competent, too in love with music, too good at this life, too talented at balancing being easy-going without being a pushover.
He should have known that Bob was going to stick around.
Their not-relationship had been more than half-drunken groping in corners or even messy kissing in the middle of rooms with Quinn laughing in the background. Bob’s eyes were too blue, that’s Brian’s excuse.
Really, he thinks later, it’s just that Bob is too Bob. All of the things that made him a good tech – his attention to detail, his periodic bossiness, his patience – make him fucking phenomenal in bed. And he always got it, he always understood when Brian needed to put his pants on to go put out a metaphorical or (in a few memorable cases) literal fire.
They were the center of The Used’s team of decently-paid babysitters and the minute that Brian realized how important Bob would be, he cut it off.
*
“Okay,” Bob said after Brian mumbled out something that probably sounded like a half-assed excuse. His face was a little tight and Brian would love to think it was hurt, but it was probably just confusion. Bob has never had the easiest face to read. “That’s cool.”
“Thanks, man,” Brian said, feeling a weird mix of feelings, like he had both simultaneously dodged a bullet and been a total idiot.
*
The best thing about hooking up with and having a non-relationship with Bob is that Bob is that Bob is seriously one of the nicest people Brian has ever known, anger and camera issues notwithstanding. So it almost never gets awkward, definitely less often than Brian had expected from the minute that Frank had looked up from the ground in Japan and simply said: “We need to call Bob.”
Because Bob is Bob. He’s not placid, Brian knows that experientially. But he’s not someone who’s going to put all of his shit out there for you to deal with, either. So, really, Brian has been spoiled by the lack of odd pauses in conversations or hands pulled back during setup.
But there are still times, times when he sees the way that Bob smiles at Frank, slow and lazy, that something tightens and he turns his head away, fast.
Because, yeah, maybe if he had known that Bob was going to stick around like this, it would have been different.
Maybe it would have been, but it’s not. And the times that something constricts in Brian’s belly are vastly outnumbered by the times that he finds himself laughing hysterically with Bob in some shitty diner in the middle of nowhere, marveling at his luck.
Because he still has Bob, at least pieces of him. And really, that’s more than Brian could have expected.
(no subject)
31/1/08 00:57 (UTC)He hooks up, yeah. He has no dearth of backstage blowjobs and handjobs in dark alleys, and he generally isn't relying on his own right and left hand except when that's what he'd prefer. He’s not dating, he’s hooking up and, thank god, hooking up with dudes in bands is a whole different world. For whatever reason, it's not awkward, it's not strange, and there are rarely strange looks over the top of tangled cables to deal with.
It's vastly preferable to hooking up with civilians.
The problems come when the hookup either turns into a relationship, which is complicated, or into a not-relationship, which is even more complicated. Fortunately (or unfortunately), Bob fell into the latter category.
Brian should probably have known better than to start looking, like, with intent. He should have known that Bob was too competent, too in love with music, too good at this life, too talented at balancing being easy-going without being a pushover.
He should have known that Bob was going to stick around.
Their not-relationship had been more than half-drunken groping in corners or even messy kissing in the middle of rooms with Quinn laughing in the background. Bob’s eyes were too blue, that’s Brian’s excuse.
Really, he thinks later, it’s just that Bob is too Bob. All of the things that made him a good tech – his attention to detail, his periodic bossiness, his patience – make him fucking phenomenal in bed. And he always got it, he always understood when Brian needed to put his pants on to go put out a metaphorical or (in a few memorable cases) literal fire.
They were the center of The Used’s team of decently-paid babysitters and the minute that Brian realized how important Bob would be, he cut it off.
*
“Okay,” Bob said after Brian mumbled out something that probably sounded like a half-assed excuse. His face was a little tight and Brian would love to think it was hurt, but it was probably just confusion. Bob has never had the easiest face to read. “That’s cool.”
“Thanks, man,” Brian said, feeling a weird mix of feelings, like he had both simultaneously dodged a bullet and been a total idiot.
*
The best thing about hooking up with and having a non-relationship with Bob is that Bob is that Bob is seriously one of the nicest people Brian has ever known, anger and camera issues notwithstanding. So it almost never gets awkward, definitely less often than Brian had expected from the minute that Frank had looked up from the ground in Japan and simply said: “We need to call Bob.”
Because Bob is Bob. He’s not placid, Brian knows that experientially. But he’s not someone who’s going to put all of his shit out there for you to deal with, either. So, really, Brian has been spoiled by the lack of odd pauses in conversations or hands pulled back during setup.
But there are still times, times when he sees the way that Bob smiles at Frank, slow and lazy, that something tightens and he turns his head away, fast.
Because, yeah, maybe if he had known that Bob was going to stick around like this, it would have been different.
Maybe it would have been, but it’s not. And the times that something constricts in Brian’s belly are vastly outnumbered by the times that he finds himself laughing hysterically with Bob in some shitty diner in the middle of nowhere, marveling at his luck.
Because he still has Bob, at least pieces of him. And really, that’s more than Brian could have expected.