Nothing to Lose {Blake}

[dalton turner]

Dalton couldn't even remember what had happened in the past hour and a half. All he knew was that he had returned from a gig alone since the rest of his band mates went out to party and drink and he tried to find something to eat. Not being able to find anything he just made his way on over to his bed and sat down on it just thinking to himself. What was he thinking about well Dalton himself didn't even know. It was mostly just random thoughts. Thoughts about Blake mostly and how he wished he was able to tell the younger boy how he truly felt about him.

But, at the same time he didn't want to mess up their friendship. "What if he doesn't feel the same I mean from what I've seen he only goes for girls I'll just put myself out there with no armor and die" Dalton just thought silently to himself. Shaking away those discouraging silent thoughts he sighed before he stood up off the bed. He then took a quick glance around the tour bus making sure that none of his band mates were even close. Dalton didn't want them to watch over him like a puppy dog since all of them knew about his bad heroin addiction.

Once making sure that the coast was clear he then got down on to the floor and pulled out a shoe box from under his bed hidden under a pile of clothes. Pulling it out Dalton then sat it down on his bed before he sat down beside it. He was trying to stop he truly was. But whenever he thought this negative thoughts about Blake he needed something as a pick me up other then just his music. Slowly Dalton took the top of the shoe box off and gazed down into it his eyes landing on his needles fulled with heroin.

Grabbing at least four Dalton then shut the box back up before he hide it back under his pile of clothing under his bed. That was when he began to inject himself with the drug just trying to numb himself. He had no idea how long he had been injecting himself with the only thing he knew was that it was helping. After a couple of hours injecting himself with the last bit of heroin Dalton soon fell to the floor with his eyes shut. He had no idea he had just overdosed and was just laying there without any help and not breathing.

[blake andrews]

i'm gonna break down these walls

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( I B U I L T A R O U N D M Y S E L F )

Partying. Blake really hadn’t ever been the one to go out and do that all the time. Oh, sure, he liked to party occasionally, but sometimes he just didn’t feel like it, and tonight was one of those nights. Okay, yeah, he had gone. It wasn’t surprising. They had come off the stage...somewhere, sweaty, but damn proud of themselves. Excited, high off of the music, off of the atmosphere. Anybody would think that he was in the mood to party. Even he himself thought so. The only one that didn’t come was Dalton, and, honestly, Blake was kind of worried. The bassist had seemed kind of off for a while now, and Blake had definitely noticed. Dalton seemed to kind of avoid him at times, and glanced his way, not to mention had been unusually silent at times. And now he wasn’t with them, at the party.

The pounding music was starting to give him a headache; he needed to get out of here. Blake just wasn’t in the mood to party. Excusing himself from the girl he was dancing with (he didn’t even know her name. He hadn’t any reason to), he walked over to where Sakura and the rest of the guys were hanging. He had to yell over the music to tell them that he was going back to the bus, but at least he got the point across, which was what he needed. Now he knew that they wouldn’t go looking for him when they were ready to leave. Which was good, because such a search would turn up Blake-less, as he would be at the bus.

Blake wasn’t drunk. The teenager had only consumed a few drinks, to be honest, And not too strong of drinks, in any case. So there was no stumbling or dizziness as he walked away from...well, wherever the hell the place was. He didn’t really care. All he knew was where it was, so he could get back to the buses. And it didn’t take too terribly long, thank goodness.

The guitarist rubbed his face with a groan before he opened the door to the bus, sighing slightly as he did so. He was glad to get away from their, at least. It was probably a mistake to have gone there in the first place, but he had simply thought that maybe he’d enjoy it, but obviously he hadn’t, because he was back here. He didn’t know if Dalton was still here. Maybe he had gone out somewhere else, or maybe he was even asleep. Blake didn’t know, despite the fact that, out of the other guys, he felt closest to Dalton. Of course, there was a sort of brother/sister dynamic between him and Sakura, but that was different.

Bypassing the lounge, he pressed the button to open the door to the bunks (really, there was a slide door. How cool was that?). As he did so, he suddenly had a bad feeling about it. Biting his lip, Blake watched as the door slide away, and stepped inside the area, gasping as he did so. In front of him lay Dalton, eyes shut, didn’t sound like he was breathing. ”Shit,” he breathed out, running over to the fallen bassist. ”Dalton, c’mon Dalton, wake up.” The guitarist grappled for Dalton's hand, feeling for a pulse that was barely there. Fear gripped the teenager; what was he supposed to do? Shaking, he fumbled for his cell phone, dialing 911. That was the number...right? Yeah, yeah, of course.

"911, Emergency Hotline, how may I help you?" a polite voice inquired from the other side of the phone. "Uh, yeah, uhm, I'm Blake and, uh, I'm in a band, and I got back to the bus and the bassist, uh, Dalton, is on the ground, passed out cold." It was then, with his wandering eyes that couldn't focus on his friend on the floor, that he noticed the needles. "Shit, he overdosed." He listened as she responded. "Er, I'm at...fuck, I really don't know. I don't know the venue name...uhm..the tour iss the, uh, don't make this easy tour? err, it has, us, oh, uh, ticktick boomboom....made in canada, drunk dialing, and, oh, okay. hurry up? please, uh thank you." Now that he knew that an ambulance was on it's way to where they were (thanks to the fact the operator had a daughter that had attended the night's gig), he could relax. Slightly. Looking back at Dalton, he had to suppress overwhelming fear and desperation. He hated seeing his loved bandmate like this.

Taking another sigh, he flipped open his phone again, this time to dial Sakura's phone number. He doubted that she had it on, or that she'd be able to hear/feel it vibrate, anyways, but he needed to get a message to them. "Hey Sakura," he said shakily after the beep sounded for his recording to her voicemail. "Uh, it's Blake. But you might already have guessed that. Uh, anyways, uhm, I got back to the bus and found Dalton unconscious on the floor, and, well, I'm pretty sure he overdosed. Anyways, an ambulance is coming and we're headed to the hospital. Just, uh, thought I'd tell you. Er, bye." His voice had been shaking the whole time, bordering on being in hysterics. At least he wasn't a girl. If he had been, he was sure that he would have been in hysterics.

----------transportintothefuture!----------

Blake crossed and uncrossed his legs, fingers tapping impatiently against his thigh, waiting, waiting. That's what he hated about hospitals. The damn long wait. Dalton had been in for a while now, and he hated having to wait. He needed to know how his band mate was now. Overdosing was bad; it could kill you. And fuck if he wanted one of his best friends to die. Propping his elbows on his legs, he buried his face in his hands, sick with worry. Not physically sick, but he wouldn't be surprised if he did get sick soon. He was already shaking, in near hysterics. And the red streaks down his cheek were proof of that.

The door next to him opened. Looking up, Blake noticed it was the doctor. Blue eyes looked desperately at the woman in front of him, waiting for the verdict. The blonde lady nodded and cracked a small smile. "He'll be alright. We managed to flush the drugs out of him. It was indeed heroin, I might add, which is a serious drug. Mr. Turner seems to have developed an addiction to the drug, so he may have to attend rehab for it, but that is a choice he will have to make, but I do hope that his friends can help to persuade him of that. You're free to visit him now." Nodding his thanks, he stood up, shaking the woman's hand as she offered it, and dashed into the room, nearly running into door frame.

Technically, he wasn't supposed to be allowed to visit, it being late at night with visiting hours open, but there were always exceptions. And money could give a lot of exceptions. He didn't want to bribe them, but there was no way he was going to leave Dalton's side until the bassist was released from the hospital. Well, maybe for a bathroom break, but that was it.

The guitarist stopped beside Dalton, looking down at his friend, all connected to tubes, the smell of anesthetics strong. This was why he hated hospitals. It was painful to see a loved one on an uncomfortable bed, tubes connected in all sorts of places, white walls, white sheets, the smell. He hated it so effing much. But he had to be here, had to be there with Dalton. Though the musician was getting worried; Sakura hadn't called or even texted back. Were they still out partying?

Not sure if the boy was awake or not (though he was breathing now, thank God), he pulled up a chair so Blake could sit beside the bedridden bassist. "Hey Dalton, you up?" he murmured softly, slender, almost girl-like, hand reaching out to grasp the bassist's, worry etched into his face as he looked at the other man, waiting, praying for an answer. He just needed to know, from Dalton himself, that he was alright. No doctor's statement could relieve him the way one from Dalton could. "You gonna be alright?" Blake was soso nervous. Yes, the doctor had said he was alright, but he was still worried that they had overlooked something, that something was still wrong, and the possibility of death scared him. Scared him so much that a few tears trickled down the paths worn onto his cheek by tears previous. C'mon Dalton....answer me...., he thought, so worried, so scared. Nothing like a best friend, someone you felt really really close to, being in the hospital to give you a reality check.

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``tagged!

d-d-dalton! :D

``music!
various stuff in head...

``word count!
1,482 (not counting coding)

``outfit!
clickk!

``notes!
yeah, sorryy it took so loonggg D: but got it doonee, so here ya gooo<33

lyrics credit to all time low<333[/center][/font]

[dalton turner]

Everything had happened so fast that Dalton didn't have any time to grasp on to everything that was happening. Well even if he tried he wouldn't be able to do it since he still wasn't awake. He had no idea that it was indeed Blake who had found him on the tour bus and had indeed saved his life by getting an ambulance to take him to the hospital. He had no idea how much drugs he had taken in. All he knew was that he was slowly starting to wake up and the sound of Blake's voice was helping him. After a couple more moments slowly his eyes began to flutter open and once they did Dalton just slowly turned his head in the direction of Blake as a small weak smile formed gently on his lips.

"Hey" he said simply trying to form words. It was quite hard to do that since he had just woken up from a near death experience. All Dalton knew was that he never wanted that to happen ever again. But, at the same time he didn't quite know if he would be able to stop since his drugs were the only thing that could calm him down other than his music. "Where am I" he asked softly. His voice could barely be heard due to the fact of him just waking up but he knew he needed to talk to Blake.

If it wasn't for him he would have been left there all alone to die. Slowly and gently Dalton just squeezed Blake's hand for reassurance to let him know that he was going to be alright. Maybe he wasn't alright right now but he was going to be that was for sure. That was when his memory slightly jigged and sent him flashes of images of him on the bus. Just seeing them made him wince slightly. "I guess you found out huh the doctor and nursing staff must have told you" he spoke weakly again. Dalton then weakly moved on the bed making space for Blake to lay down beside him as he patted the spot beside him. Out of all the people that could have found him he was glad it was Blake he just wanted to spend some time with the other boy.

[blake andrews]

i'm gonna break down these walls

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( I B U I L T A R O U N D M Y S E L F )

In retrospect, Blake was kind of glad--wait, no, really glad--that he had come back early from going out to party. But also, he thought that maybe if he had figured that he didn’t really want to go before he went, he would have been able to stop it from happening. How exactly, he didn’t know, mostly because he didn’t know what had caused Dalton to shoot up. Maybe it was just habit to do it whenever no one was around, or maybe it was something else entirely. Maybe something had happened while the rest of them were there that had made the bassist do such a thing. He didn’t know; nobody did except Dalton himself, but that didn’t remedy the situation. It just scared him more. The guitarist was someone who didn’t really like uncertainties, and this definitely was one. All he knew was that Dalton hadn’t come with them, had done heroin, overdosed, and was now in the hospital. All the drugs were supposedly out of his system, and he was supposedly fine. But Blake himself didn’t know that; it was just what the doctor had told him, and he had never really trusted those people anyways. Half the time, they acted like everything was just fine when it really wasn’t. Besides, he heard of plenty of stories where the doctor didn’t what they should have done, resulting in death or worsening of problems. Really, think about it, why trust them with all of those kinds of stories floating about?

The time between the phone call to 911 and for the ambulance to actually arrive was excruciatingly long. The only sound was his own breathing, and maybe an occasional car driving by, and the sound of laughter or some other human sound made by people walking around somewhere outside. But to the teen, it felt like space was pressing in on him, that it was only him and the prone form of Dalton, lacking most signs of life. The boy was shaking, fearful, frightened, waiting. Looking like a deer in the headlights when the ambulance finally arrived, red lights flashing into the bus, medics rushing into the huge vehicle, crouching next to Dalton, next to Blake. Carefully carrying the prone bassist onto a stretcher, tying him down. When asked if he wanted to accompany them in the ambulance or follow in a car, he, of course, chose the emergency vehicle. He didn’t even think he’d be capable of driving the rental car they had. Besides, it would provide transportation for the others, whenever they came.

Blake was shaking even as they raced to the hospital, medics keeping their attention on the drugged up boy, attaching all kinds of stuff to him, probably attempting some kind of weird mojo crap on him. He really didn’t know, being all cooped up in his corner, shaking, freaking out, for lack of better word, a few tears already starting to fall as he started at the other male, fear evident in his eyes as he looked on. He flinched away as one of the medics attempted to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Usually, he could be rather friendly, and wouldn’t have minded the friendly gesture, but being that it was a rather delicate situation, he really wasn’t up to random medics touching him, no matter how friendly he could be.

It was hell as Dalton was carted off to the emergency room and he was left alone, to fill out medical information, or at least as much as he could. Social Security and insurance information about Dalton he didn’t know. Hell, he didn’t even really know his own. Plus, knowing someone else’s more private information like those things could be bad for that person. He’d just have to get Dalton or somebody to get that done. Although he was pretty sure that their manager had tried to get them to at least memorize one other person’s insurance information, just in case something like this happened. It was just the five of them, and they knew they could trust each other with that kind of stuff, right? So what would it matter? But in this case, there was no point, seeing as how he didn’t even know Dalton’s. So he had to turn it in with some sections blank, explaining to the nurse that he didn’t really know that stuff, and to get Dalton himself to get it done, maybe.

And then it was another wait. Longer even than before. Eventually, he was out of the emergency room, and he was taken back to a seat by the room he was now in (one of them one-person types, for privacy. I mean, hello, they were in a band. He already had a couple of girls stare at him nervously in the waiting room. Privacy was needed.), answering questions a nurse asked him as she scribbled down notes of his answers. He wasn’t allowed in yet, to his dismay. They still needed to get Dalton stabilized before he was allowed in, seeing as how Blake might overreact or something like that. It had happened before.

He was still shaking, still frightened, still fearful. Borderline in hysterics. Actually, being a guy, you could probably call that hysterics. He just had a different way of showing it, seeing as how he wasn’t one to usually show that he was scared, worried. He didn’t usually cry. Crying was for girls, not men. That’s what his dad had often told him before beating him harder than he even had before. So, perhaps, he really was in hysterics, shivering and crying. The impatient boy couldn’t help but adjust his position just about every two seconds. Cross his legs, uncross them, tap his fingers on his thighs, jiggle his leg, prop his elbow against his leg and lean his head against the palm, drum his fingers on his cheek, all in all, a variety of things. It was just so nerve-wracking, sitting there, not knowing what was going on in the room, not knowing if one of his best friends was going to live or die. It was all too possible, and he knew that.

The teenager’s heart had skipped a beat when the door opened, nervous, hopeful, and scared, all in one moment. Nervous, he didn’t know what was going to happen. Hoping that Dalton was going to be okay and that the doctor was to bring him that good news. Sacred that something wrong had occurred, and, instead of a joyful messenger, she was to be the harbinger of bad news. When the woman smiled, Blake let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He has just been soso scared. Soso nervous. Hospitals made him nervous in the first place, so her stepping from the room, grim faced, made him even more so. But thank fucking goodness that Dalton was okay, that he would be okay. If he hadn’t been...Blake didn’t know what he would do. The bassist was his best guy friend; how could he function without that? He was kind of like the older brother he never had...except he wasn’t. He was more than that. Always there when the guitarist needed a shoulder to lean on, there when he just needed someone to listen, and when Blake just needed someone to cuddle and Sakura wasn’t there.

Of course, the happiness dissipated slightly as the younger boy caught sight of the older man in the bed with tubes and machinery and all that stuff around. He just hated that, even if it was something that was necessary. It was just so bothersome. Bothersome enough that it could probably give a little kid nightmares or something. So of course, he approached, slightly hesitant of the machines and tubes and wires and all that jazz. He nearly felt like crying at the sight. There was a reason he just hated hospitals and this was number one. He couldn’t stand it, someone being connected to all that shit.

”Oh, thank fucking goodness,” Blake blurted out as the older boy turned towards him, eyes opened, small smile on his lips, and a soft greeting issued from his lips. He bent his head down, forehead resting against their clasped hands, sobs wracking his body. He hated crying, he really did. And honest to goodness, he had no idea why he was doing it now. He was just sososo glad that his friend was okay, that everything was gonna be alright. At least for now, and that was what mattered. Sitting back up, he used his free hand to brush away the remnants of tears. ”Fuck. Sorry about that...you just had me scared that when you said something...I just kinda broke down. Like a little sissy.” He couldn’t meet Dalton’s eyes just then. That was the thing with being so hard to reveal your emotions, trying to be like stone, emotionless, that when you did, you were so embarrassed. Evident by Blake’s aversion and the pink that tinged his cheeks. Then, when Dalton asked the questions, he looked back at the bassist, still sorrow and worry in his eyes. It wasn’t over yet, but most of it was done. Or so he hoped. ”You’re in the hospital....you...uh, overdosed,” he muttered softly, still shaking lightly.

As Dalton squeezed his hand, the guitarist managed to crack a small smile, squeezing the older male’s hand back, thumb habitually rubbing circles on the back of his hand. Blake nodded at his weak words. ”Y-yeah, they did,” he mumbled. He wasn’t glad that he was doing drugs, but at least he wasn’t dead or anything. He was alive now, and that was what counted. But he still couldn’t help but be saddened by the fact, saddened that he hadn’t even told the rest of the band. Sure, it seemed...well, slightly small, considering some other things that could have happened, but every little thing was important when it came to being in a band. There were supposed to be very few secrets within a band, you were supposed to be honest, so as to not cause strife later on. And heroin was just a frightening thing, really, not to mention to overdose on it.

A soft smile crossed his lips as Dalton moved over on the bed. Honestly, Blake was fine with the chair, and he was kind of worried about the bassist, but as a comfort to the both of them, he was sure, he let go of his hand and scrunched in next to him, chin resting on the musician’s shoulder, one hand intertwined once more with Dalton’s, the other lazily wrapped around his waist. Changing the position of his head to be buried in the other man’s chest, he sighed. ”I was soso worried,” he mumbled into the material the nightgown that the hospitals made patients wear, the sound muffled. Of course, the slightly innocent little Blake didn’t realize that it probably looked weird, him in the same bed as Dalton, hands linked together. But right now, he wasn’t really thinking, and just overwhelmed with worried. Not to mention he himself believed that he hadn’t any problems with cuddling with other guys. He wasn’t a homophobe, but he had just never thought of some other possibility for himself other than being straight...but he didn’t realize just how odd he probably seemed to others (thank goodness it was a private room with curtains pulled in the windows, both to the outside and to the hallways.). He just cuddled with Dalton because, well, they had done it before. This wasn’t any different. He was just a clingy sort of guy, and liked to cuddle with anybody, male or female, all the while only dating girls. It was just who he was, and how he believed things. Kind of like the whole stone-like exterior deal.

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``tagged!

dallttonnn~<33

``music!
various stuff in head...

``word count!
1,971 (not counting coding)

``outfit!
clickkaaliicckk

``notes!
gah. wasn't supposed to be longer xD sorryyy! should be getting shorter again sooon. cx here ya go love<33

lyrics credit to all time low<333[/center][/font]

[dalton turner]

Dalton didn't seem to care when sobs wracked through Blake's body. In fact he was kind of expecting that out of his friend. After overdosing and making Blake worry the way he did well he didn't expect Blake to do anything else but cry and he was okay with it. As he heard Blake begin to apologize Dalton just slowly shook his trying to ignore the throbbing pain that pounded through it as he shook it. "Blake no listen to me a sissy hell no your not being a sissy I made you worry not just worry but I made you worry a hell lot more then I ever made anyone worry before and that wasn't right on my part I'm sorry" he just spoke weakly to the younger guitarist. It was still kind of hard to talk but Dalton didn't even care. He needed to get use to talking again and what better way to do that then to help calm a friend down from all the worry he himself had put him through.

At the sound of Blake's answer a small frown formed gently on to Dalton's face. That was one of the things that scared him to no end. He had feared overdosing due to the fact of knowing a lot of people dying because of it. Most of the people he knew dying because of it were even in his family like his auntie, uncle and even his grandfather and grandmother. Shaking slightly with fear a small sigh escaped his lips. "I'm sorry Blake I'm sorry for everything tonight I just lost control I had no idea how much I was taking in normally I just stop after one injection I don't understand why tonight was different" he spoke softly and weakly again. Though of course he understood why tonight was different. But he didn't want to say anything to Blake about it. "He's straight he doesn't love you that way" Dalton just kept reminding himself silently. But while doing that it was making him sadder as he tried to hide his sad emotions from the younger guitarist.

When Blake got on to the bed with him Dalton just smiled weakly down to the younger guitarist. That was when he wrapped his arms around Blake's smaller frame and just kept them there in reassurance. Every time they cuddled together Dalton just silently wished they could stay like this forever even if he knew they couldn't. "It's okay now Blake I'm all alright I'm never going to leave you always remember that" he reminded him weakly. Ever since the band had started up Dalton had promised the younger guitarist that he was never going to leave him no matter what happened. Even if he was discovered with cancer he would battle it just to stay with Blake. Well he used that as an example so Blake would be able to see and understand no matter what the situation was Dalton would do whatever he could to stay with the younger boy.

Using one of his hands Dalton just pulled up the blankets on the hospital bed and gently tucked Blake in with them. Out of the two of them Blake was the one that needed sleep the most due to all the worry and stress he had been put through today. "Take in some gentle breathes Blake it's okay I promise" he reassured him softly again. That was when Dalton just placed a small comforting kiss on to the top of Blake's head hoping that would help calm him down.

[blake andrews]

i'm gonna break down these walls

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( I B U I L T A R O U N D M Y S E L F )

Blake felt like he could’ve been sick with worry. Except for the fact that he hated being sick, so it wouldn’t really work there. But he had been so freaking worried that Dalton wouldn’t wake up, that he wouldn’t move, that maybe he would just die. Those moments before the bassist moved, right after the guitarist spoke, talking to him, he was just soso scared. Scared that he wouldn’t be awake, that he wouldn’t ever be awake. And if that happened, he would only blame himself. Blame himself for not getting back sooner and finding him sooner, maybe even getting back in time to stop the other musician. But the doctor had said he was okay...right? She would have told him if he was in a coma, wouldn’t she? Told him if there were any problems with him, any big chance of getting worse in any way. At least he was pretty sure that she would. Why would a doctor just forget to tell him something as important as that? Especially when it was told to someone who was so obviously distraught over this. Yeah, he doubted it, but still, with no sound, no evidence of life other than the beeping of the heart monitor, he was scared, so scared for his friend.

When the boy on the hospital bed moved, the musician could nearly swear that his heart jumped, excited, so happy, so hopeful, that he really had seen Dalton move. For second, he believed that he had just been seeing things, but then the bassist turned over, facing Blake, and oh, was he so happy. Dalton was definitely alive, thank the heavens, and he was just so happy, so glad that the older man was not dead, not even in a coma. The doctor had been right (at least as far as he knew) and Dalton was definitely alright. He was awake, he wasn’t delirious or out of his mind, he could see, he could feel, everything. Blake was just soso happy, relieved that his best friend was alive and well as far as he could see. Just so so glad. Everything would be alright, he was pretty damn sure.

When the boy spoke, even more happiness had filled him. Another sign that everything was going to be alright. Speech was definitely an important thing. Especially since he didn’t think that he’d be able to learn sign language to converse with the other boy, and most of the fans wouldn’t be able to, either. And damn, that would suck. But he didn’t have to worry, seeing as he was fine, he could speak. Blake shook his head at his friend’s response, wiping his cheek of the tears that streaked down them. Crying was girly. Or so said his father whenever the boy, as a younger child, cried during the man's abusive times, and so he had to hide his tears. But that had broken today, he had just been so scared that he would lost his friend, his closest friend other than Sakura, maybe. His closest guy friend, for sure. He was just so scared that the barrier that he had had was broken, releasing all that emotion, those tears. He hated it. After everything Blake's father had yelled at him, he still believed a lot of his, despite his hatred for the man, and there was very little that could change that. It was hard not to believe something that was pounded (literally) into you over and over again. "No no no, it's true. I-I'm not usually like this. Then again, you know that," he gave a half-hearted smile. "I'm not gonna say you shouldn't be sorry....but don't apologize because I was crying and being stupid," he replied softly. He didn't want someone apologizing for him, because of him. It just wasn't like him.

The guitarist looked sadly down at his friend, hating seeing him like this. Hating the fact that he was in the hospital, in the bed. Just the state he was in, weakened greatly by the removal of all the drugs and everything. He just hated seeing Dalton like that, weak, frail. He was supposed to be stronger than this, not weak, not tired, not like this. Biting his lip, chewing lightly on his lip ring, his thumb rubbed light circles into the back of his friend's hand that he was still holding. "Hey, no, you're alright. It's fine...just...I wish you had told us before," he replied honestly. Really, it would have been better, they would've known, they would've been able to keep an eye on him, make sure something like this didn't happen, help him. Secrets could be a bad thing within their relationship as a band, and he had just been so fucking scared finding him like that on the bus floor.

The younger boy felt comfortable laying with his friends' arms. It wasn't anything odd....he was just clingy...right? Well, that was what he thought, in any case. With Dalton's arms wrapped around him, Blake was comforted by it, he felt better. Not as sad, not as worried. As long as he could be here, like this, he would be good. The guitarist would feel better, feel safe, feel like nothing could hurt them. At Dalton's words, he nodded with a murmured "Yeah, I know that." Ever since the band had started, the bassist had promised that he wouldn't leave. Blake hadn't understood the underlying meanings, and he still fully didn't, but that was okay. As long as he always had his best friend, he was okay. He just needed someone to always be there for him, to be consistent in his life, always there, always understanding. Someone he could trust, at least to a point that he himself was comfortable with.

As the blankets were pulled over him and he was tucked in, he snuggled up closer to Dalton, if that was even possible. Obviously it was, since he did. He was very tired, after stressing out as he had been, worrying, being up as late as he was, it being very very very early. But he wasn't tired enough for sleep. Not right now. Not when he was still worried about Dalton as it was, and with the others not having called or even texted him back. They needed to know that their bassist was checked into the hospital, and their lead guitarist was there with him. Or else there'd be much confusion when they found them not in the bus. The younger teen nodded and followed the instructions given to him, trying to calm down by breathing. Blake needed to believe that it'd be alright, that he was alright. And then...a forehead kiss. The guitarist blinked as his cheeks grew warm as a light blush covered them. Yeah, they had been all cuddly before, but...Dalton hadn't ever kissed him before, not even a friendly (or maybe not so friendly) forehead kiss. A light tingle ran through his body. For some odd reason....he was okay with that. He was more than okay with that.

Whether it was because he was still so worried and wasn't thinking properly, the fact that that small motion was okay, or he was so tired and, because of that, couldn't judge things properly, he didn't know. He didn't know why he did what he did, which was to gently press his lips against the others. Then all realization came back to him, and he panicked, breaking the kiss with wide eyes. No. He didn't even like other guys like that. "Oh my god..." he whispered in horror, pressing his fingers to his lips. He couldn't believe that he really had just done that. He liked girls. Not guys. He wasn't even bi. He was straight, perfectly straight. Or...he was supposed to be. "Fuck," he murmured, burying his head in the single pillow that the two shared. Turning his face slightly, cheeks burning bright red, to look at Dalton, he shook slightly, freaked out by his own actions. "God, Dalton, fuck. I-I'm sorry for that...I don't know what I was thinking...I wasn't in the right mind...no...I'm straight, so, yeah. Sorry. Not thinking," he rambled out, voice quivering slightly. That said, he buried his head back in the pillow, too freaked out and scared to look back at Dalton. Blake was straight. He didn't even like guys, and even if he did, he wasn't supposed to really feel that much for anybody. He was a guy. He wasn't supposed to really have emotions, much less display them like that, openly kissing someone. That wasn't how it worked. Fuck, he was just so confused, he couldn't even look at his friend.

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``tagged!

dalttonnn~

``music!
various stufff on mah playlist :D

``word count!
1,443 (not counting coding)

``outfit!
clickk!

``notes!
sorrryyyy it toookk so longg! i told you why (: but here you are. draammmaaa! >D

lyrics credit to all time low<333[/center][/font]

[dalton turner]

At what happened next shocked Dalton. He had never excepted this to ever happen between the two of them. Though the kiss they shared was like one of his dreams. It was perfect in every single way well at least it was until Blake broke the kiss and began to freak out. Shaking his head Dalton sighed as he watched the younger boy. "Blake calm down please just calm down" he spoke to him softly. It was okay on his side but he knew Blake was going to freak out like this if something like this had ever happened between the two of them. Dalton just shut his eyes just wishing that he wasn't freaking out before he fluttered open his eyes again and looked down to the younger boy again.

Rubbing the back of his neck gently Dalton just bite down his lower lip. That was when he slowly leaned down to the younger boy. Once he was close enough Dalton just pressed his lips gently against Blake's for a few seconds. After those few seconds Dalton just broke the kiss and looked down to the ground. He didn't know what to say or do and he had a feeling Blake was going to question him about what on earth the kiss was for and to be quite honest Dalton couldn't think of an answer right now other than his true feelings for the younger boy.

Bitting down his lower lip again he sighed softly as he let go of his lower lip. "I'm sorry Blake but if I tell you the reasons for the kiss I know your going to hate me" he told the younger boy softly. That was when he looked back down to the younger boy and gently ran his fingers through Blake's soft hair.

[blake andrews]

i'm gonna break down these walls

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( I B U I L T A R O U N D M Y S E L F )

Blake couldn’t help but freak out. It was just natural for him to do so. He was straight, or he was supposed to be. He didn’t like guys, he didn’t kiss guys, either. So of course he’d freak out after kissing Dalton, his best friend. There was no reason for him to go around kissing other guys, much less his best fucking friend. Just kissing some random dude in a weakened state, yeah, somewhat understandable (except maybe the whole Blake-is-straight deal), but kissing his best friend? Someone he’d known for many, many years, someone he trusted, someone who, if he fucked this up, could fuck up the whole band. And because he was straight (as he so often told himself) screwing up the band seemed to be there. He couldn’t mess this up. He needed this, needed the band. They were his family, the people that took care of him day in and day out, and whom he cared for in the same way. Doing something like this could just mess everything up in the band, screw up the dynamic they had, and end in failure. They had only just started, only been signed for eleven months now. He couldn’t screw the band up. But he had a feeling he was.

The guitarist slightly knew that Dalton was gay. Or, well, it was complicated. The point was that Dalton was gay, and Blake already kinda knew. Before the bassist, he hadn’t really known anyone that liked those of the same sex. Not even someone that was bisexual. Sure, he had heard of it, but that was different. He had never been affected by it, never felt any acceptance or repulsion for those with that life style. Not that he knew anyone like that. And then Dalton came along, and nothing changed. And he never questioned his own sexuality; he had no need to. He just always assumed he liked girls. Nothing happened that changed that. He never had any questioning periods where maybe he thought he might like another guy. He just...was. He was straight. No questioning, no thoughts that maybe he wasn’t. It was just how things were for him. But now...maybe he was starting to question that. How many straight guys do you know that randomly go and kiss other guys? None, of course. Straight guys were straight because they liked girls, because they kissed girls. Straight guys, like Blake, didn’t kiss other guys. Not even when they were stressed out and exhausted. It didn’t make sense for him to kiss Dalton as he had. Not if he was straight, as he had always claimed, always assumed he was. So of course he would start questioning himself in his mind. He just didn’t know what to think of all this, and it wasn’t surprising that he was doing as such.

Blake tensed slightly when the other boy spoke, but relaxed instantly. Dalton wasn’t mad, wasn’t freaking out. The bassist was just his gentle, calming, understanding self as he had always been. That was probably what freaked him out the most; he hadn’t any clue how the other boy--or, well, technically man--would react to it. He was just so scared that he would be mad at the younger teen, or maybe that he would also freak out. That maybe he would hate the guitarist (though he hadn’t any clue why he would; it was just a stupid mistake), but that was what ran through his mind. He didn’t want Dalton to be mad at him, or to hate him, or to even freak out. That wasn’t what he was supposed to be like, so it was understandable that it was what he was most worried about, but with the soothing, calming voice speaking to him, his worry, well, most of it, disappeared, settling him down, turning his super freak out into a mild freak out, something easier for Dalton to handle. He stopped shaking and peeked out from his refuge that was his pillow and looked at him, a soft smile gracing his lips. ”Thanks,” he murmured softly before burying his head back into the pillow to commence his still mild freak out. Hey, give him a break, he, a straight guy, just kissed his male best friend. He still had a right to freak out slightly. It wasn’t as bad; mostly just crazy thoughts racing through his head, and trying not to think too much of Dalton. Which was hard, with the bassist being right next to him.

’What the fuck did I just do? And why the hell did I do it? It had to be just the nerves, the worry and stress I had...right? Oh, screw it. Everything’s gonna be screwed up now...he’s going to hate me...or at least avoid me. Why the hell did I just kiss him? Oh fuck...’ were some of the thoughts running through his head as he clacked his teeth against the single lip ring embedded in his...well, lip, obviously. Not really enjoying the pressure on the ring, he moved his head sideways, so now his head wasn’t pressed against the pillow anymore, and instead facing Dalton, not that he had really noticed it. He was still thinking, still trying to figure out why he had done what he’d done. So of course, he didn’t notice as Dalton got closer and closer until...Dalton’s lips were pressed against his. Blake’s eyes fluttered closed for a millisecond, thinking how good it felt; Dalton’s mouth against his own, before his eyes jolted open as he realized what was happening, and then what he had just thought. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, and Blake was still in a state of semi-shock when the bassist broke the kiss, blinking, trying to figure things out. ”I...you..” the words tumbled from his lips, not making any sense to him at all. Lids closed and opened rapidly over ice blue eyes as he just continued to stare and blink at the bassist, thoughts all screwed up as he tried to think of something that sounded....well, right, to say.

Blake continued to blink even as Dalton spoke again. As the words registered through his brain, he quickly shook his head, several clumps of blonde hair flipping everywhere as he did so; it was quite awkward to shake your head while lying down. ”I could never hate you,” he said softly, looking up at his older friend, his best friend. He knew it to be true, too. The bassist was like family to him. Sure, there were times when he was sure he got aggravated with him, times where he kind of disliked him, but never, never hate him. That was like saying peanut butter and jelly don’t go together. Hate was such a strong word, and Blake didn’t like using it, well, at least with other people. Inanimate objects, sure. He hated crickets, he hated math, he hated just plain vanilla ice cream, and he hated fog. There were types of people he greatly disliked. Those that didn’t try out new music for no reason, those that smacked their gum. Sometimes he might say he hated those types, but he never hated a specific person. Someone with a name. He could never use hate for them, even if they got on his every last nerve and were super annoying. No, he could only greatly dislike such a person. And he could never even greatly dislike Dalton. The bassist and Sakura were his two bestest friends from the band, all of them being his best friends, of course. Blake could never hate them, not one bit. It was nearly impossible, especially since they all were really lovely people. Crazy and dysfunctional; just the way he liked it.

The guitarist chewed his lip again, white teeth continuing to clack lightly against the metal ring, blue eyes looking up at Dalton slightly. And then the bassist was running his hand through his hair. If he were a cat, he’d be purring right about now, he knew. One thing that Blake loveloveloved was people playing with his hair, which involved basically anything to do with moving his hair around in most any way shape or form. Like running their fingers through it. It just felt soso good to him, and damn, did it feel good even then. The light pressure of Dalton’s finger tips brushing his head, the sort of massage-like feeling that was applied by the calloused fingers, it all just felt like heaven to him. Though he might not be a purring cat, he still leaned into the touch slightly, somewhat guiding his friend’s hand by moving his head slightly, lids closed over his eyes, long eyelashes brushing his red hot cheeks, still embarrassed over everything that had happened, but oh, so enjoying the touch. Sighing, the guitarist opened his eyes again, still leaning his head into Dalton’s fingers as they ran through his hair, ice blue eyes looking pleadingly up at the previously stated person. ”Please...” he murmured softly, pleading evident in his voice. He just wanted his question answered so bad, wanted to know why...why Dalton had done that. ”I want to know...why...why did you kiss me?” Blake wasn’t usually the one to ask something like that, but he was just so curious, he just needed to know. Maybe he would understand things more, and maybe it would help him figure out himself, he didn’t know. The guitarist just wanted his question answered...if at least just to know the answer to that one question and none others.

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``tagged!

dalttonnn~

``music!
various shizz that i've been singing xD

``word count!
1,591 (not counting coding)

``outfit!
clickk!

``notes!
heee, blake is sooo adorable cx <333 wew c:

lyrics credit to all time low<333[/center][/font]