"A Sanctuary Safe and Strong"(Marianas Trench)

Chapter 59

When Matt finally woke, he was alone and slumped against the arm of a couch, a little dazed, a little disoriented, and quite confused. He reached up to rub the sleep out of his eyes and found himself with a face full of blanket that he hadn't been expecting. "Mmf," he protested, struggling a bit to free his hands, then shifting the quilt into the empty space beside him, wondering what in the hell was going on. Squinting at his watch, he repositioned his arm several times until the digital numbers came into focus. Almost noon. He had to piss something awful, and it wasn't until he shoved himself to his feet, staggering a couple of steps until his body decided to work with him instead of against him after spending so long in such a strange position, that he realized exactly where he was and why he had been sacked out on the sofa instead of in his own bed at home.  

Josh. But Josh would have to wait. The guitar player rushed up the stairs to the second floor, darting across the hall and into the empty bathroom, almost not even bothering to shut the door behind him. He fumbled to unbuckle his belt with one hand while trying to unbutton his jeans with the other. Eventually he succeeded in both and dragged the zipper down as he practically danced in place until he was able to release himself from his boxers, bracing his feet shoulder width apart. At the moment, he thought that not even sex could ever compare to this feeling. He nearly had an orgasm right where he stood as the painfully tight feeling in his bladder diminished. Matt moaned quietly, but obscenely, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as the hot stream turned to a trickle. He pushed his hips forward a bit, doing his best to avoid pissing all over the porcelain as he finished. 

Tucking himself back into his clothing and flushing the toilet, Matt straightened himself up and turned to the sink, his eyes raising at the state of his hair as he washed his hands. He dipped his head down closer to the sink and combed his fingers through the mop of brown that currently stuck up in multiple directions, rivaling Josh's "concert hair" style. It might've worked for edgy lead singer, but it wasn't at all a good look for the boy-next-door. He didn't stop until the front of his shirt and the surrounding counter were soaked, making him look as though he'd just stepped in out of the rain, hair plastered down to his head and fluffed up a bit using the tips of his fingers.  

His extra toothbrush - orange, a freebie he received from a recent bi-annual dentist visit - still had a place in Josh's bathroom, luckily enough, and he ran some toothpaste over his teeth quickly, replacing the object back into the holder on the counter when he was through. He gave the shower a quick look out of the corner of his eye, vowing to visit it later once he checked on Josh to make sure the older man was okay. That took precedence over personal desire - mostly, Matt thought, remembering how good he'd felt a couple of minutes earlier. 

Jogging down the stairs, the guitar player jumped the last two steps, landing hard on both feet, soles of his boots slapping loudly against the wood. He hadn't gotten enough sleep to sustain himself without getting deprivation-drunk and loopy sooner rather than later, but he was presently wired with anxiety about the state in which he'd find Josh that morning. Though he was known for being fairly quiet and laid back, he now had quite a bit of nervous energy flowing through his body and nearly short-circuiting his system, despite himself.  

So far, he'd only set foot in two rooms and still had several more to search for the singer. He was closest to the office, so it seemed logical to start there. Tapping his knuckles against the closed door, Matt got no response, so he turned the knob and pushed it open. No Ramsay, but it looked like a typical Josh disaster, closely rivaling the condition of his bedroom. The only difference between that and this was that the singer was more careful with his instruments than he was with his own life. What Matt was seeing here was definitely not his mess. Josh was absolutely meticulous when it came to his musical equipment. Even at his worst, he never would have allowed this happen. Among other things, sheet music was strewn across the floor and the keyboard was upended and off its stand, leaning against the metal frame as though it had been purposely dropped - and perhaps it was. Two of the several guitars had been taken down off their hooks and were lying on top of one another on the floor, the tuning pegs of one tangled in the strings of the other. Josh wouldn't have done this on his own, and even if Matt hadn't already known this fact, he would have been able to guess that this was where the burglar had spent most, if not all of his time. And the brunet felt certain that if Josh had been up to it, he wouldn't have let it lay as it was for this long, either. Matt didn't blame the singer for not having been back in this room since the robber had gone through it, invading his space and tainting it. He felt like a trespasser in his own right, standing in that room without Josh, and he took a step back toward the door. Just as he turned to move back out into the hallway, something caught his eye. 

Matt took several long strides back inside the room around the guitars, stopping at the desk. The same damn soda bottle cap that Josh had shown him the night before - God, was it just the night before? - was resting upside down next to the computer mouse. The last time he'd seen that was when he'd handed it back to the singer, who had set it down on the couch. Matt never saw him pick it back up, but he must have. "He's been in here," the guitarist mumbled quietly to himself, grabbing the small piece of plastic and sticking it into his hip pocket. He didn't know what he'd do with it from there, and he probably shouldn't have taken it, but it felt like the right move at the time. 

Ducking back out of the room, Matt closed the door silently behind him, the nervous energy having seeped out only to be replaced by a slight melancholy worry that hung over his head like Eeyore's little black rain cloud. Luckily, that only stayed with him until he stepped into the kitchen. There Josh stood in all his...aliveness...facing the counter, a slightly burned piece of toast up to his mouth and an uncapped water bottle set near his hand beside the paper towel he was using as a plate. All Matt could do was stare for a minute, relieved. After the night before, he'd hated the idea of the blond being alone for even a minute, though he'd fallen asleep and his only hope to prevent that would have been to wake before the older man did. Clearing his throat quietly to avoid scaring Josh too badly, he leaned against the doorframe, waiting to be noticed.