Pop Singers, Am I Right?

Chapter 35: What To Do Now, Am I Right?

Dex POV

I like the slow mornings with Fitz.
I don't know whether every morning will be like the ones I've had before, but I hope they are.

He's running his fingers through my hair, nails gently gracing against my scalp. Kindly holding me. Fitz always goes soft on me. Not just talking about sexually [;)] but it's like he's worried I'll shatter if he touches me otherways. I don't mind it, I feel fragile already.

Fitz was looking at his phone for a few minutes but now he has given me his full attention. I like that. It makes me feel like I'm enough for him. Enough. I always have wanted to hit the (seemingly) low-hanging bar of perfection, but to him it doesn't seem to matter if I'm a hit or miss.

I'm buried in the covers and I hear Junebug jump onto the bed.

"Hello, pup." Fitz refuses to call her Junebug because it's 'stupid, weird, and goofy', so he resorts to calling her that. "Dex is sleeping, but you can come up and rest on my lap. S'long you don't tell him I'm being nice."

"Okay, I won't." Fitz jolts when I say that, making me burst into laughter. I roll over, "Didja really think I was asleep?"

"No, I just regularly treat the cockblock with respect and not cuddles and felt like it was a private experience that we should have in our bonding." He says, rolling his eyes as if it were that simple.

"Whatever, Wonderboy." I peck a kiss on his lips, "I'm so glad you and Junebug are accepting that you will live together."

"Begrudgingly." Fitz corrects me, but kisses me again, and pants when we pull apart, "You always kiss me like it's the end of the worlds."

"You're the end of my worlds." I kiss him deeper. We gently make out (or I guess roughly), until Junebug kicks Fitz, nuzzling between us, "Looks like someone needs a walk."

"Looks like you'll be taking her on that, pretty boy." Before I can argue, he kisses me harshly on the lips. "Did you know we apparently have been nominated for some Grammy's?"

"We were-WHAT?" I gape. "SOME? HOW MANY!?"

Fitz is laughing at my excitement, but smiles, "Uhh, Album of the Year, Pop Vocal Album of the Year, Artist of the Year, Best Duet of the Year, and Male Artist of the Year."

"That's crazy!" I'm suddenly super energetic, overwhelmed with excitement, "You're going, right?"

"What do you mean "you"? You're coming too." Fitz is talking way too nonchalantly for this.

"You're bringing me as your date?" My face turns red, "Fitz, that's going to seem like-"

"So?" He interrupts me, "I don't care what it seems like. Crazy shit happens at the Grammys. Plenty of things will overshadow two boys holding hands."

I want to ask, Will it? But I decide against it, "Are we going to wear weird outfits?"

"Only if they match."

"Obviously." Junebug jumps around, as if she wants to be involved too.

"You want to see Jensi and Maruca later?" Fitz asks, changing the subject to more important matters.

"Why?" I ask, stretching and scooping Junebug into my arms.

"To talk about Alvar. And our next move. If there is one." Fitz pulls out his phone, "I talked to them yesterday, but maybe we should discuss a bit more. Knowing what we know."

A brief moment of silence passes before I realize what he's saying. And I don't like it.

"We're not outing Alvar."
. . . .