Wisdom of the Fool // Jake & Danny

Chapter VI

Warnings: masturbation...aka smut alert, y'all already know 18+ only.

Short, sweet, a little dirty...some considerable introspection from Jake. What else? Hope you enjoy ~~

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The glamour of waking up in a new city had completely worn off Jake after the second full year of touring. Now, it felt as discombobulating as it had been in when they'd first started but without all the magic–there was nothing magical about waking up in a bed atop a set of wheels, scratchy sheets that he didn't choose, a bathroom that was even smaller than the one at home and a whole crew and team waiting on the other side of the curtain.

There was some magic in waking up next to Danny, though. They'd separated throughout the night, although Danny still kept one arm out and his hand was on the pillow underneath Jake's head. When he turned, his eyes shot straight down long, tan fingers and slightly curved knuckles to the strong, bare and smooth arm, and then to the mess of almost-black waves. His back was rising and falling gently, slowly, and Jake watched for a few moments with half-blurred vision.

He didn't want to get up. He inched closer, sort of listening to the outside noises–he could hear Sam yapping away with someone from beyond–but more focused on his sleeping best friend. He laid his hand down next to the one that was stretched out and used his other to gently spread Danny's fingers straight out, lining their hands next to each other and comparing–Danny's fingers were longer, of course, and his hands were larger, but the slight delicateness of the drummer's hands wasn't totally lost on Jake. There was a certain dainty beauty to his hands, with all the supple skin taut over his knuckles and the soft bend to each of those bones; flipping Danny's hand over, the skin on the inside of his wrist was even more supple, maybe even smoother than silk, and lined with turquoise veins that fluttered underneath Jake's touch.

What was he dreaming about? Another stress dream about their next show? Jake's nerves about that had dissipated while a new string of nerves had been plucked upon waking–what they would be doing after the tour was over. He and Josh had talked about moving to Nashville together; Sam wanted to move to LA, so Jake had mentioned Austin as a compromise, a way to keep things closer, even if by just that much. Danny hadn't given a definitive response, but Jake knew he would stick with Sam. Even if Danny were Jake's best friend, Sam would always be Danny's real sidekick. Jake couldn't fault him–he had Josh.

He rolled back over and sighed against the pillow. He wished his brain would just stop for a second–Josh's brain went a mile a minute but he had managed to control it. He'd learned, somehow, to will his anxieties away or, more impressively, to work with them, work them into something else. Jake consistently felt caught up in his anxiety and he knew that internalizing it most of the time didn't help, but he couldn't get the words right. Certainly not with this–was he supposed to beg Danny to stay with him?

Jake's name was being spoken from outside the curtain yet again, this time by his twin. Jake sat up and leaned over Danny, who was still dead-asleep and unmoving, and pulled the curtain back just enough to see a small slant of Josh's face. "What?" Why hide it at this point? Josh knew, Jake was sure of it.

Josh glanced down and smirked. "I knew it."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. What is it?"

"Sam and I are going to get breakfast. They want to deep clean the bus or something, so you should come too."

Danny suddenly stirred and rolled over halfway to face Josh. Jake couldn't see his face but he did hear the quiet, "Oh," that he sounded.

Josh held his hands up, still smirking. "I'm just telling you both–breakfast." His hands dropped as did his eyes again, the smirk directed solely at Danny. "Sleep well?"