Toxic Valentine. (Fransykes)

Josh woke up feeling rather disorientated, for next to him, sat cross-legged and eye level with himself, was Jack Barakat. His curious dark eyes blinked once, twice and then a grin spread across his face. He reminded the cerulean eyed boy rather distantly of a guard dog that was actually just a puppy. There's a long silence that echoes across the walls until the Baltimore born boy's name is shouted and he sits up in recognition before taking off after Alex, who stood with arms folded and stern expression on his face. "You're such a dick," He hears the other scolding, but Jack only laughs in return, as if he is used to such phrases being used to describe him.

Then in his view comes ruffled brown hair and gentle eyes that have crease lines around them from laughing so much. He wishes he had that, he wishes he smiled more (he wishes he had more things to smile about, more people to smile with). "Hey," Alex says softly, his hand resting atop the bed covers as if he were far too afraid to make immediate contact with the other "How are you feeling?" Josh doesn't know what to say, emotionally he feels drained and exhausted and as though he was so tired of feeling that his emotions had slowly drained down the floor and been absorbed by the Earth.

"Safe," He settles on, because he feels more secure here with people who know the situation, who are aware of the agonising pain and crushed hope that he can't seem to release. Something had switched off in him now, as if the lights were on and nobody was home; just a shell on the beach which the waves echoed inside.

Alex sighs gently, "Move up," With confusion in his azure eyes, Josh does as instructed, blinking as the other man slid his long legs into the bedcovers and wraps his arm around the younger, knowing it was exactly how he received comfort. It's not romantic or sexual, and Josh is well aware who the love of Alex's life (And it isn't the girl he's married to) and enjoys the fact that this is his friend, his friend willing to give him the only comfort he knows how to.

The door opens and Jack is stood there (Or so Josh assumes by the lack of pyjama pants and instead just a baggy pair of well-worn boxers), who kneels beside the bed and blinks a few times. "Alright let me in," Alex goes to protest but he climbs over the two of them and squashes himself against the wall, his arm around Josh also. Unable to help himself, the Weybridge born boy bursts into laugher, although by now completely used to Jack's antics he still is never failed to be surprised by the other.

The elder looks over at the other two and his hand rests gently on Jack's. Josh, instead of feeling uncomfortable at all, simply smiles and lies on his front "I think I'll go talk to Zack and Rian now, I feel rude, not having really spoke to them," He slides out over Alex and shuts the door behind him. Immediately he finds two pairs of eyes on him, awaiting some form of grand entrance or explanation; he fumbles for a second, blinking furiously before "...hi," yeah, that'll do.

Zack talks less than Rian, but unlike the other two members of the band, they are more down-to-earth, less hot headed and more polite. Josh feels like if the band were a family, these two would be the parents of two children with disciplinary problems. The British man wants to know what is going on in that bedroom, if those two were finally talking; his stomach twists at the thought from both excitement and jealousy (And the knowledge that he essentially got them together and broke up a marriage).

Jack comes out a while later and his cheeks are a little red, his hair much messier than it had previously been. He meets Josh's eyes and the two of them bite their lip and look back through the doorway. The younger stands and leans closer so that the guitarist can whisper too him "I think he's crying," Both of them swallow and look down at their feet before Josh pushes open the door to repay the favour that he's been owing Alex Gaskarth for years. Alex is looking teary, but he's not completely broken down.

"What am I going to do,"

"It's your life Alex," He replies softly, recalling words that had once been spoken to him "Take control of it," The Essex born man blinks in recognition of words that he had once said to Josh, before leaning his head on his shoulder, trying to stem the tears (it doesn't work and soon he's crying into Josh's shoulder and sniffling).

"Can we stay here for a while?"

"Of course,"
--
After his set finished, Alex makes his way to the Bring Me The Horizon tent, he stands there for a moment and doesn't speak, taking in the surroundings around him for a moment. He's never really spoke that much to anyone in this band, they were British (So was he, but that wasn't the point), and their music was pretty far from their own so they've never collaborated, but he's met various members of the band briefly. "Hey, is Oli here?" He calls out, noting the member of the band he had come to see wasn't here.

"Na man, sorry, he's never here anymore, fuck knows where he gets off to," Confusion settles within the other before muttering a 'thanks' and taking off. Closing his eyes, he stands within the centre of Warped, thinking 'where would he go if he needed to escape for a while?' His eyes dart open, pupils dilating as adrenaline rushes through him, his long legs carrying him towards the stage, following around the back of it, where the foundations held little holes so the workers can make sure it's stable. As he slides through one of the holes, his suspicions are confirmed.

Oliver Sykes is sat there, head previously buried in his lap. But now, as he looks up, Alex can see the tear tracks lining his face and the agony that is written all over him. So he is in as much pain as Josh. For a little while, his previous anger simmers and he sits on one of the beams next to him.

"Hello," It's such a polite way of speaking that the Essex born man is actually a little taken aback, he looks up and meets the deep melancholy eyes of a man he had always thought of as heartless. "I'm assuming you're here about Josh," He nods in confirmation and Oli sighs as if he had been hoping he had been wrong "If you're going to like...beat me up or summat, can you get it over and done with already?" Alex snorts.

"Beat you up? Have you met me?" The other rolls his eyes, he can barely hurt a fly, (Zack could maybe, but then again he wouldn't want too) he especially could not take on a man who grew up in Sheffield and had more tattoo coverage than skin, no that wasn't his style anyway. Alex was never taught how to fight and with his constant fluctuating moods he felt it was safer for himself and others that he didn't. "No, I want you to come with me, so you two can talk, properly this time,"

There's a tense silence and the shadow of a man stands slowly "Ok," He whispered "OK, fine, but you have to stay with us, stay in the room and... make sure I don't do anything stupid," If there was one thing that hadn't occurred to Alex, it was the fact that maybe Oli had as much control over his actions as Josh did. Literally zero. He cursed softly under his breath, there was no way he could handle both of them at once.

"Did you tell anyone?" He mutters gently, not wanting to see Jack at the present moment in time (Of course, Josh and Oli came first, but he doubted two lots of angry, upset and sexually frustrated people in one room would work out). They make their way through the hole and slink around the field, back towards the all Time Low tent, where Josh was perched innocently, unknowing.

"Yeah, Kellin," There's no second name needed, there aren't many people called Kellin on warped, as he looks passed the crowds of people, he can already see the ebony haired man, a scowl on his face with a shorter and much more energetic companion. Upon seeing Vic, Oli cussed under his breath "He's worse than a fucking reporter," he muttered. Alex can't help but smirk a little, as Vic sees Oli and shifts behind Kellin, who rolls his eyes and goes to walk away, with his Mexican friend in tow.

"Hey Kellin, come here," He pauses "Please," Kellin he knew, he could handle Kellin better than Oli, and he knew Vic (Not that this even remotely concerned Vic, but feels the need to justify that he knows Vic, they wrote a song together, they performed a song together, every now and then he crashes their set). "Sorry I need to speak to Kellin alone, Vic," There's a long period where Alex can physically feel the energy draining from the all as the smallest walked away, yawning gently. The three of them exchange looks with each other and the father of one sighs as if he knows there's no walking from the situation that Oli has dragged him into. "We need to sit in while they talk, to stop them from...doing anything stupid?" He looks at Oli "See they've developed a sort of complex around each other and there's some technical stuff but basically they really struggle with control, especially Josh, but Oli too, and I can't handle them..."

"Why don't you just get your lap dog to do it?" Kellin sighs, obviously rather stressed out and exhausted with the entire situation. But then he sees Alex's face turn very red very fast and decides not to press the issue. "Ok fine, let's get this over and done with,"

The air turns cold as they walk, it's darker than they remember and the sky is painted a blood red as the sun begins to set. They hear the last few cheers echo around, the chatter of excitement from fans. Whilst their fingertips freeze in the cold, the three of them walk like they are marching to a noose, with the exception for Kellin who is simply so drained he can barely lift his feet. As they walk back towards the two people on the world they feel as if they never want to see again, Alex and Oli breathe deeply with the last man stepping behind them into the All Time Low tent.

Notes