Sonic Boom - S3E10
Episode title: The Obligatory Band Episode
Summary: When a boy band competition comes into town, Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles immediately decide that they have to enter as Dudeitude. The only problem: their other two teammates who aren't allowed to join...
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[Episode opens on a shot of a poster.]
BATTLE OF THE (BOY) BANDS!!!! the poster proclaimed, using far more exclamation points than were necessary. All boy bands (and ONLY boy bands) welcomed to join and compete for the prize of 10,000 rings and a record deal!!
A crowd of villagers had quickly gathered around the sign—which of course soon drew the attention of Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles, who had been wandering around the village chatting happily about nothing in particular. (No, literally, they were discussing what the word ‘nothing’ meant to each of them.)
“Hey! What’s going on here?” Tails asked, taking to the air in an effort to better see what was making everyone else so interested.
He studied the poster, growing more and more excited by the second. “Sonic! Knuckles! Check it out!”
“Whoa!” Knuckles cried. “Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?”
Sonic’s smile widened. “I think I am thinking what you’re thinking….”
“It’s Dudeitude time!” all three shouted at once.
[They snatch up the poster so that it fills the camera frame, leading to a transition where the camera zooms back out on all three of them smiling hopefully.]
[Camera cuts to Amy, sitting on her couch with a distinctly unimpressed look on her face.]
[Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles’s smiles take on a rather panicked quality, before the opening sequence begins.]
…
[The same intro sequence plays as last time, complete with a reluctant Shadow.]
[Eggman’s villain reveal starts off similarly to that of the second episode, but the malfunction is caused by most of the minor villains turning the lights on and photobombing him. The green screen glitches out, leading to green and choppy outlines around each villain, before Eggman chases them out while shaking a wrench at them angrily.]
[The sequence then continues on, before ending with the title of this week’s episode.]
…
“What is it, Ames?” Sonic asked, the smile slipping off his face.
“Seriously?” She sighed. “Why aren’t they letting any girls participate at all?”
“Oooh, yeah.” Tails winced. “That’s kinda rude, I guess.”
“I don’t know about rude—it’s mostly just downright juvenile.” Amy sniffed disapprovingly.
The fox and Sonic both turned to stare at Knuckles. “Man, I thought you knew about this kind of thing!”
The echidna cringed. “I mean…I dunno, guys, I can’t know everything all the time! Gimme a break, okay?”
Amy nodded approvingly. “That’s very true. There’s always more to learn!”
In the background, Sonic winced, more at the concept of learning from Amy Rose than learning, full stop.
“We don’t have to compete, then.” Tails said decisively.
Sonic and Knuckles were fully prepared to agree, but then they saw Amy’s determined expression.
“I have an even better idea.” she explained. “You guys are going to compete—and win—with a girl as your manager.”
“Uh…hang on, who would be our manager?” Sonic asked, frowning in confusion.
Amy facepalmed. “Me. I’d be the manager.”
Sonic grinned sheepishly. “Ohhhhh.”
“What’s a manager?” Knuckles added.
“They’re a person who helps organize all of your paperwork and performance dates.” she explained.
At that exact moment, Sticks kicked the door open and rushed inside, a pair of binoculars dangling from her hand. “You guys are hanging out? Without me?!?” (This of course ignored the fact that she was implied to have been watching them ‘hang out’ in Amy’s house for an indeterminate amount of time.)
“Oh, Sticks!” Amy’s expression brightened up considerably. “Do you want to work on the lighting for the show? There aren’t any government agents, aliens, or ghosts involved, I’m afraid, but it’ll still be worth your time!”
The badger frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but that sounds boring.”
It took two minutes of explaining (and convincing) to get the idea across to her, but the moment the words ‘fight the patriarchy’ came into the conversation, she was onboard instantly. As a matter of fact, the word ‘fight’ probably would’ve been enough all on its own.
After that, the entire team ended up so excited that they spent the rest of the day planning out a dance and lights routine to some of their music. By the time they were worn out and crashed in various places around Amy’s house, there was paper strewn everywhere, but the general concept for the show was complete.
Just before Sonic fell asleep, using the couch armrest as a makeshift pillow, an idea came to him.
I wonder if Shadow would want to join Dudeitude….
…
Of course, the next day, they ran into a (not at all plot-convenient) problem almost immediately. When Amy sent Tails over to get the forms necessary to enter the competition, he found that there was one minor issue with their entire plan.
All competing bands were required to have at least four members.
Amy rubbed her eyes in frustration. “I can’t believe we’re going to have to rework our entire performance routine!”
Tails sighed. “That’s the least of our worries. We can’t even compete right now!”
Suddenly, Sonic dashed into the room, his arms laden with to-go chili dogs from Meh Burger. “Hey guys, how’d it g—oh. What happened?”
Amy looked up at him sadly. “We need four members in the band to compete. And right now we only have three!” she cried.
“Oh! Well, if that’s all, then,” Sonic said, putting down his food and dusting his hands off at sonic speed, “I know what to do!”
And with that, he vanished in a blur of blue.
…
A black ear twitched as the telltale zooming sound of Sonic’s running reached its owner. Shadow straightened up from what he’d been doing—adjusting a new bed frame in his room—and walked out to the front of his cave, wondering what could bring Sonic here in such a hurry. Knowing him, it could be anything from just wanting to race to the world actively ending.
“Shadow! Great, you’re here. Listen, we have an emergency.” Sonic said quickly.
“An emergency?” he asked, concerned. “What kind? Is it the doctor?”
Sonic shook his head. “No, worse! Listen, we need you to join our band, like, now, or else we won’t be able to compete in the battle of the bands competition.”
Shadow stared at him blankly. “I…I think your definition of ‘emergency’ is somewhat different than mine.”
“But will you do it?”
“Let me see what you have planned first.” Shadow sighed.
Sonic did a rapid fist-pump. “Yes!”
Shadow rolled his eyes. “I didn’t actually agree to join yet.”
“But you did agree to look at the plans, which means you’re considering joining.” Sonic said smugly.
Shadow muttered “You’d better not make me regret this.”, but with that, they took off, leaving twin trails of blue and red behind them.
…
“So let me get this ludicrous plan straight. You want me to join your rock band, which involves playing on absurdly designed instruments and wearing insanely sparkly suit jackets, in order to win a competition exclusively for boy bands. That way, we can rub it in the organizers’ faces when they discover that we have multiple girls—or rather, one girl and one demigirl—working with us.” Shadow said slowly.
“Yes!” Amy exclaimed. “We’ll come out onstage after the others have claimed their prizes, and then we’ll take the most smug bow in the history of bows.”
“I still think that a speech calling out the secret underground alien-cryptid alliance would’ve been better.” Sticks muttered, rolling their eyes.
Shadow frowned. “And why can’t either of you—” he gestured to Amy and Sticks— “just be part of the band anyway? It isn’t as if they’d know whether or not the band was made up of all boys until the concert.”
“Actually, they would.” Tails explained. “There’s a rehearsal the day before that all band members have to be there for.”
“Ugh…” the hedgehog groaned. “Whose idea was it to join this stupid competition?”
“Well, first it was me and Sonic and Tails.” Knuckles said. “And then we were ready to quit when we realized they didn’t let girls in, but Amy said we should do it with her plan, so we did.”
Shadow leaned back against the couch for a moment and closed his eyes. “….fine. I’ll do it. But this is a one time thing, understand?”
“Alright!” Sonic cheered. “Now we just need to find you one of those suit jackets!”
Soon enough, the team had scrounged up Sonic’s spare outfit and handed it over to Shadow, at which point he began to regret every single one of his life choices.
“No. No way. This is utterly disgusting.” he snapped, holding the offending garment as far away from himself as possible. “I will never, ever—”
[Cut to a shot of Shadow standing stiffly while wearing the jacket.]
“This is humiliating.” he grumbled.
Amy winced. “Is this seriously what you guys wore while saving the town from Justin Beaver?”
“It was the best we could come up with on short notice, okay?!” Sonic cried defensively.
“You know what?” Shadow said. “Fine. Fine. I’ll wear it. But don’t you think that we should each customize our own outfit instead of all looking the same? After all—wait. You’re not doing this as…that tacky pop group, are you?”
“Nonono, don’t worry, we’re doing this as Dudeitude, not Dreamboat Express.” Sonic explained hurriedly, trying to stave off Shadow’s growing expression of horror.
“Actually, that sounds like a really good idea!” Tails said excitedly, pulling out his own jacket. “I wanna put, like, cool gear cufflinks on mine—let me go get the Build-It Box!”
[A montage ensues, complete with lots of tacky fashion choices and comical mistakes, including (but not limited to) a patch that was supposed to say ‘Knuckles’ but instead came out as a strangely detailed fabric replica of the echidna himself.]
[The team’s brief experiment with differently-colored jackets was also strongly vetoed by Shadow after they all came out of the box in different varieties of neon.]
Eventually, the three original members of Dudeitude had their new outfits all set and ready to go.
Sonic’s white jacket now had red and gold stars around the cuffs and hem, while Tails’s had—as he had mentioned—gear-shaped cufflinks and buttons with a crossed wrench and screwdriver stamped into them. He had also added golden sequins along the back spelling out ‘Prower’, akin to a sports jersey.
Knuckles’s jacket, on the other hand, had all sorts of patches sewn onto it, including a barbell, a circular one labeled ‘Weightlifting Champion’, and multiple stylized green emeralds. He seemed awfully proud of it, enough so that Sonic and Tails had to keep preventing him from flexing in front of the mirror so that he wouldn’t rip a seam.
When Shadow walked out, though, his jacket didn’t appear to have changed at all. Sonic frowned. “I thought you were the one who wanted us to change our outfits up!”
Shadow smirked. “I did.” he said proudly. “Tails, do you happen to have an ultraviolet light handy?”
The fox’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t.”
Shadow’s smirk widened.
Tails scrambled to get his biggest UV light, shining it on Shadow’s jacket…and then everyone gasped at what they saw. Blue and purple threads wove throughout the entire garment, creating a variety of geometric patterns that almost seemed to shift as Shadow moved.
Amy looked over at Sticks, smiling excitedly. “Hey Sticks?”
“Yeah?”
“How do you feel about adding some black light to the show?”
…
It had been decided that Shadow would play the bass guitar, since Knuckles was already handling the drums and Tails had taken on the keyboard/synthesizer role. Sonic, of course, was more than excited to use his two-necked guitar, tearing through riffs and fills with ease.
They’d had a week to practice before the rehearsal, and it became clear that Shadow had taken the time to learn every single song, as he played chord after chord perfectly. Despite his skill, his backup vocals were barely audible, and he outright refused to sing alone at any point in the show.
This only encouraged the entire team to try even harder to get him to change his mind, of course.
In the end, it was Amy who got lucky enough to hear him first—they’d all stayed behind to watch the other bands play so they could get an idea of the competition, but she and Shadow had been the only ones with enough patience to suffer through three poor performances in a row.
Their only real competition was a new band made of some boys whose personalities had seemed almost custom-built to sell well with fans, run by Justin Beaver himself as part of his new reality show. They had decent vocals and a generic backing track, but the test audience ate it up. The team had nearly suspected them of using mind-control technology again, but a quick reconnaissance mission on Tails’s part showed that the audience’s reactions were legitimate.
Somehow.
After the rehearsal had finished, the organizers left most of the microphones set up so that they’d still be in place for the concert tomorrow night. Amy had been getting ready to leave (and maybe snag a couple of the complimentary refreshments to take home when nobody was watching), when she noticed some movement out of the corner of her eye.
Quickly, she crouched behind a conveniently placed bush just as Shadow stepped forward on the stage.
He cleared his throat, looked around nervously, and then began to practice his backing vocals in a small, awkward voice. At first, his voice was too weak to carry very far, but when he saw nobody around, he began to relax.
His speaking voice was raspy and clipped. But when he sang, all of that fell away, and his vocals became smooth and deep, nearly making Amy gasp.
Quickly, she texted her friends and told them to come over discreetly, but also right now.
The moment they showed up, crawling into the bushes next to her, their faces immediately transformed into nearly identical shocked expressions.
“Is that Shadow?!” Sonic hissed under his breath.
Amy rolled her eyes. “Who else would it be?”
They watched in silence after that, still stunned. Shadow’s singing voice…well, it really couldn’t be described as anything other than beautiful.
The moment he finished, Knuckles shot upwards and began to clap excitedly. All of the others whispered at him furiously and yanked him down behind the bush, while a decidedly uncomposed shriek came from the general direction of the stage.
After a moment, Shadow barked, “Who’s there?”
The entire team stood up awkwardly, wincing. Sonic smiled nervously. “That was really good!”
The other hedgehog’s hands tightened on the microphone stand until his fingers nearly left imprints in the metal. “Sure.” he sneered sarcastically.
“No, seriously, it was amazing!” Tails cried.
“Yeah, it really was.” Sticks added.
“I loved it!” Amy exclaimed.
Shadow’s grip loosened slightly. “You mean it?”
The team rushed onto the stage, gathering around him. “Yes!” Knuckles exclaimed. “It was so cool!”
“Ah. Well then.” Shadow said tightly.
But as the team watched, his mouth curled into the tiniest of smiles.
…
On the night of the performance, all four members of Dudeitude had the jitters. Tails was making sure all of their equipment was accounted for the tenth time in a row, Knuckles was doing his best to curl up into a ball, Sonic was literally shaking in place, and Shadow was grinding his teeth and hissing at anyone who came near him.
“Alright!” Amy declared, clapping her hands together. The boys all promptly hit the roof, before turning to stare at her with various degrees of fear and frustration.
“Listen,” she continued, lowering her voice, “I’m so proud of all of you. You guys did a great job in the practice sessions, and you’re sticking it to all of these stupid organizers, too.”
Knuckles sighed. “Yeah, but not as much as the people out by the front fence.”
What he meant, specifically, was the all-girl band protesting the entire competition out front by playing their own songs loud enough to be heard from the rehearsal tent. They had camped out long before the concert had begun and were showing no signs of flagging, no matter how many people tried to drive them off.
(They also had a sign in front of them that read If you can be petty, so can we.)
Amy shook her head. “Everybody has different ways of dealing with these kinds of people. Just because ours isn’t as loud as theirs doesn’t make it any worse.”
“Right, but what happens if we’ve put in all this effort and don’t win?” Tails asked nervously, holding open one flap of the tent and gesturing to the band run by Justin Beaver. They were doing, quite frankly, a really good job, and the judges seemed almost won over already.
Amy frowned. “Well, I’m still glad I got to do this with all of you anyway. The only way we could’ve done this wrong is by giving up or by not having me and Sticks participate at all.
“And,” she added, “I’m also glad we now know that Shadow is an amazing singer!”
The hedgehog in question looked away briefly, embarrassed.
Sticks darted into the tent suddenly. “It’s time.” she whispered dramatically.
(Shadow and Sonic had to do their absolute best not to impale the walls of the tent with their quills at that.)
…
“And now, the final band of the night…it’s…Dudeitude!!”
The announcer’s voice rang in the ears of all four band members as they took to the stage. Sonic grinned at Knuckles. “You ready, dude?”
“Yeah, dude!” he whispered back, practically bouncing in his seat.
Tails leaned over to tell Shadow, “They’re always nervous until they hit the stage. It’s the waiting that’s the worst for them.”
“Oh. Good for them.” he muttered tersely, obviously not experiencing the same relief.
“You’re gonna do great!” Sonic cheered under his breath, smiling at Shadow in the darkness.
He didn’t even have time to react before the lights flashed on and the drumbeat began.
Shadow played his music almost entirely on autopilot, his hands moving more on memory than knowledge. He performed without thinking, doing the choreography (or the stripped-down version of it that he’d demanded they give him, because he didn’t dance) while staring blankly out at the audience. He’d never been more grateful that he was joining the band in its rock incarnation instead of when it was a full-on pop band.
As they entered the breakdown of the final song, where Sonic vocalized solo over chords from Shadow’s guitar, that autopilot ended up betraying him. Shadow had, on his own time, tried out singing along to this part in the test track an octave lower, because he’d found it enjoyable. It hadn’t been made part of the performance plan, and if he’d been in his right mind he never would’ve done it, but as it was…
…well, the audience ate it up.
They finished their song, accepted the audience’s applause (with much whooping and bouncing up and down from the original trio), and filed offstage, all while Shadow was still processing the performance.
The moment they entered their tent, Shadow’s knees gave out and he collapsed abruptly onto a chair.
“Whoa, Shadow, are you okay?” Sonic asked, hurrying over to stand next to him, his hands hovering nervously over his former rival’s shoulders.
“I sang.” Shadow wheezed. “I wasn’t even supposed to sing then, and…”
“It was incredible!” Amy gasped, stars in her eyes. “That was such a good idea!”
“So…I didn’t ruin the show?” he asked, looking up with a carefully blank expression.
“Honestly, I think you just won it.” Sticks said, poking their head into the tent. “I mean, the crowd is still shrieking.”
Shadow’s limbs went obviously loose with relief. “So you’re not upset.”
[The entire team suddenly locks eyes, remembering Shadow mentioning that his last brush with friendship ended badly.]
“No, no, no!” Amy cried. “No, not at all! Honestly, I’m glad you decided to sing.”
Sonic smiled at him. “It sounded amazing.”
Shadow shook his head, stunned. “I was so out of it up there. I barely even realized what had happened until I was done.”
Tails’s eyes widened. “Wait, does that mean you were practicing the song like that this whole time?”
“…maybe?”
“You should’ve told us!” he exclaimed. “I would’ve done all the sound prep so the audience could hear you better!”
Shadow looked cautiously down at his skates. “Thank you, but I’m alright.”
“You at least have to do karaoke sometime with us then!” Knuckles insisted cheerfully.
The entire team looked so excited that Shadow found himself smiling wryly against his will. “Well, I guess, if you insist…”
“The awards are starting!” Sticks called from the entrance to the tent. Then they frowned. “Wait, when did I become the responsible one here?”
All four members of Dudeitude took to the stage, along with the other bands. They were forced to jostle with their rivals for room, leading to many dirty looks and a minor shoving war. However, they all stood up straight when the announcer called, “Now, the winner of the competition is…”
“…Dudeitude!!”
Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles all screamed at top volume, making Shadow flinch before watching his bandmates with a smirk. As soon as they had received a check for the money and a guaranteed record deal, however, two things happened.
First, Amy and Sticks raced out onto the stage to celebrate too, completely forgetting their plan in the process. The audience went absolutely silent upon seeing them—and then burst out into cheers that were even louder than before. Sticks and Amy stared at the crowd for a moment, before smiling, putting their arms around each other, and taking their well-earned bow.
Then, the entire team all gathered together in a group huddle for a minute. Sonic whispered something to them that made their eyes widen and the hero bounce in place excitedly.
He snatched up a microphone and ran to the edge of the stage. “Hey guys, listen. All of us loved playing for you, and we had so much fun tonight. But, uh, being a hero is kind of a full-time job, and most of us already have enough on our plates. So…I wanna give this to a band who’s really gonna use it. A band who actually performed tonight, but never got judged, and a band who we all think was probably both one of the best ones here and who deserves this more than anything.”
“Yo! Ladies out front!” he yelled, getting the attention of the band who had been protesting the event all night.
“Yeah?!” their leader, a chipmunk dressed in a blue vest and white leggings, yelled.
“Can you guys come up here for a sec?”
The crowd parted to let the band through as they came to the stage. It was composed of the aforementioned chipmunk, a lynx in a pink dress, a lemur wearing all yellow, and a wolf who looked like she’d stepped off the pages of a goth/punk magazine.
“What is it?” the chipmunk asked.
“Hey, uh, do you want this?” Sonic said, offering her the prizes.
The crowd was completely silent.
“Why are you giving this to us?” the lynx asked softly.
“‘Cause we think you guys sounded great, and you really deserved to be included in this competition. And now that it’s ours, we get to do what we want with it. So we thought you should have this.” he explained.
Tails gave a thumbs-up from behind him, and Knuckles smiled encouragingly. Cautiously, the chipmunk stepped closer and took the prizes. “What’s the catch?” she asked.
“No catch. Seriously.” Sonic told her.
She watched him skeptically for a moment, before holding out a hand to shake. “Thank you.” she said quietly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you—my name’s Sally, by the way.”
“Nice to meet ya!” he said cheerfully. “Name’s Sonic.”
“These three behind me are Nicole, Tangle, and Whisper.” she added, pointing at the lynx, lemur, and wolf in succession.
“Hey! Thank you, like, so much!” Tangle cheered, appearing directly next to Sally. “Man, we’ve been dying for a chance to do something like this for ages!”
Whisper smiled in agreement.
“Uh….” Soar the Eagle (the reporter covering this event) stammered, trying to regain his bearings, “Well then, how about a picture with the…two winners of this competition?”
[The camera flash obscures the screen for a moment, before revealing a picture of Dudeitude (plus Amy and Sticks) and the other band. Most of them are smiling, and Shadow has mustered up a moderately friendly neutral expression for the camera.]
[roll credits]
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omg more prompts!! would love to see matty holding hands with george while he’s stressed out about something and then maybe later laying his head in george’s lap🥺
HELLO THERE ANON,
You sent me this WONDERFUL intimacy prompt literally three months ago, BUT I finally did it, I finally filled it! Better late than never? Right? I want to apologize though for taking so long to get to it, and thank you so much for sending it in. I hope that you're still around to see the response! I ended up combining the two- I hope that was okay! Please let me know what you think! Additionally, if anyone else wants to send in any intimacy prompts, the list can be found here. I can't guarantee that it won't take me three months to finish the next one, but I promise that I *will* eventually. I really enjoy working on prompt fills and even if it takes me forever to actually sit down and write them, just know that I am in fact always thinking about them!
Thank you so much for requesting this prompt, your patience since I am the worst and it took me months, for reading, and for your continued support! I look forward to hearing what you think!
❤️Ally
WARNINGS: Reference to past drug abuse
Holding hands during a stressful situation & Resting your head on your partner's lap
Matty hated flying. He hated the drive to the airport. He hated that they were always, inevitably, caught in stop and go traffic that made his already nervous belly churn, nausea burning the back of his throat. He hated leaving his bag with the airline agent, the worry that it would get lost, that it would get stolen, that it wouldn’t make it to his final destination even as he obsessively tracked its air tagged location on his phone. He hated going through security and border control. He hated taking off his jacket, and shoving his backpack into the plastic bin. He hated the scrutiny of the security agents as they took in his tattoos and the scars on his arms. He was always, without fail, pulled for random, additional screening. He always tried to smile good naturedly, anxiety bubbling in his gut, even if he knew he wasn’t truly chosen at random, drug dogs sniffing his ankles as they swabbed his hands for explosives. At least he got to carry his own passport now, it was no longer in Jamie’s clutches as if he was going to run off to score the second he was left unattended. (He never had even considered fleeing an airport to score, however, he had considered fleeing an airport to run back to the flat he shared with George and hide under the covers of their bed.)
He hated making his way through the crowded terminal, people rushing around him, knocking into him, suffocating him as he tried to remember how to breathe. The straps of his backpack digging into his shoulder. He knew there would be a red mark on the skin when he sat it down, there always was. He loved their fans, he loved them more than anything, but he hated that he could feel their eyes on him as he moved through the airport, taking pictures of him with his eyes downcast, the brim of his baseball hat pulled low as if it would be able to fully hide his mop of curls. Only for the pictures to end up on Twitter moments later, which led to more eyes seeking his location. The braver ones would approach him and ask for a picture with him rather than just of him from a distance. He would force a smile, his arm stiffly around their shoulders as he tried to focus on his breathing, his palms sweating as every fiber of his being screamed danger and run. He hated that they always seemed to be assigned the gate furthest away from the main artery of the terminal. He hated that his anxiety meant he needed to lay eyes on the gate, that he needed to verify that it was real before he could wait with the rest of their group in the lounge.
He hated that once he had dropped off his bag, and made it through security, and checked on his gate, that it was time to wait. Matty was not a patient person, he was even less patient when he was stressed, wanting things the way he wanted them right this instant. Demanding, George had called him one time with an amused smile and love shining in his eyes.
At this particular instant, he was both stressed and demanding, gripping George’s hand as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth as he dragged him through the crowded corridor towards their gate. He was more stressed than even his usual airport levels of airport anxiety. He hadn’t slept the night before, tossing and turning, worrying about the ten hour flight from LA to London they would be embarking on the next morning, popping piece after piece of nicotine gum as they inched towards departures in their rental van. They had played the last show of the tour the night before, and Matty was burnt out and ready to go home. Once at the airport, he had been, as usual, pulled for additional screening, the man that patted him down rough and inconsiderate. He had been stopped by a duo of fans less than five minutes later, forcing a smile as he tried to swallow down anxious tears threatening to spill. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his blood rushing in his ears as a man speaking loudly on the phone bumped into him, splashing him with iced coffee.
“You’re okay,” George soothed, giving Matty’s sweaty hand a comforting squeeze of his own, as the man turned away from them, glaring, as if they were the ones not watching where they were going. He swiped his thumb reassuringly against the back of Matty’s hand.
“The gate is just up ahead,” George said, pointing with his free hand to B37. “We still have an hour ‘til boarding.”
Matty nodded, wishing that seeing the gate with his own eyes would have loosened some of the tension in his chest, the way it usually did. George gave his hand another squeeze and Matty swallowed hard. George had calluses on his fingers and across his palm from years of playing the drums professionally, Matty loved that they slotted perfectly against his own guitarists calluses. Matty loved that George’s hands were so much bigger than his own, dwarfing his hand, his fingers wrapping fully around his own, engulfing them, protecting them from the outside world. He loved that even when he was shaking, even when his palms were disgustingly damp and sweaty, George never let go. He might have been the one clinging to George, but really, George was the one holding onto him. He closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the feel, on the weight of George’s hand, intertwined with his own. He could still feel his heart beating in his ears, but he no longer felt like he was going to drift away, like he was going to be pulled out to sea by the current and lost forever.
George pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Matty’s head. “Let's head up to the lounge, I would kill for a cup of coffee.”
Matty let himself be led through the crowd, their hands connected as if George was the tugboat guiding Matty’s ship to shore. George showed their passes to the hostess and they were granted access, the rest of their group already sprawled out on the couches, bags at their feet, coffee in hand. Matty swallowed a yawn, he was exhausted, and knew that coffee would help, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach the acidic liquid at the moment.
Matty sat down on an open two seater. Matty hated that he had to let go of George’s hand as he made his way over to the coffee bar, pleased that they were reunited a moment later, a steaming paper cup in George’s hand. He dropped into the seat next to him and without thinking Matty found himself leaning over, not caring that technically they were in public, to rest his head in George’s lap.
“I just want to go home,” Matty said softly as George tugged Matty’s hat off to run his fingers through the messy squashed curls.
“Soon love,” said George, “we’ll be home soon.”
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