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 Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 1:54 pm
The week had been... long. Those was the best word Hitch could use. First there'd been the whole thing with Tolliver, and even that felt like it was years ago already. Between then and now, he'd had a run-in with another ******** talking cat, had a stick hoisted onto him that switched him into pink speckled ******** dress just like the rest of those freaks. gotten dragged into a secret war, and then got pulled into a massive, losing battle at the university gym. Yeah. Exactly. It'd been that kind of a week.
His lip was still split from that a*****e at aforementioned gym punching him in the face, and he'd woken up the next day to no less than three bruises blossoming along his forearms, not to mention he was pretty sure he still <******** smelled like lavender detergent.
Even so - he never forgot a promise, and he couldn't have forgotten about Tolliver even if he'd wanted to. The week hadn't left as much time to process everything, and he'd admittedly jumped right into it, too swept up in magic bullshit to process the schism within himself that his encounter with Tolliver had dragged right back to the surface again.
Today was the day, and he was still doing it; he'd switched his afternoon shift to Wednesday, which left his afternoon nice and free in case the lesson ran long. He actually dragged himself out of bed early -- something he never did on his days off -- to try and get some cleaning done, maybe make the place look a little less shitty.
No amount of polish could make a turd anything but a turd. He sprayed air freshener to try and mask the mildew smell, but it just smelled like mildew berries and cigarettes. He tried opening a window, but it was stuck. He tried scrubbing the toilet, but it was just stained beyond bleach. It didn't look like a s**t hole because Hitch didn't take care of it, it was just a literal s**t hole.
He didn't even have a lot of furniture, just a ratty old couch and a bed that was really just a mattress on the floor. There were a few small tables with books piled on them - mostly travel and cooking - a dresser tucked in the corner, and there were some bookcases with more of the same. Of course, there were pictures of his mom, of them together. He couldn't live in a place where he couldn't still see and remember her.
The kitchen was just as small and ratty, but he managed to work with it. Ash trays were scattered all over the house, and Hitch made sure to empty them. A lot of his s**t was in storage, because there just wasn't enough room for it all, and he didn't have the heart yet to donate all of his mom's things.
The drum set took up a lot of room, but Hitch couldn't deal with putting that in storage too. At least here there was a chance he could play - and sometimes he still did. He'd pulled the cover off, dusted all around it, and even fished out the pair of sticks that he'd used when he was a beginner. They were by no means in mint condition, but they'd be good enough for a first lesson and then some.
With nothing left to do for the apartment, finally, Hitch came to rest on the couch, trying his hair back because it was just something else to busy his hands with. He was nervous, he only realized when he felt the moisture clinging to his palms. He rubbed them against his jeans and then began tapping his palms against his knees, staring up at the ceiling. He'd given Tolliver his address before he'd left that day - just in case he was too sheepish to call or whatever - but that guaranteed nothing. A lot could change in a week, obviously. What were the odds that Tolliver had just up and changed his mind about the whole thing?
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 2:21 pm
Tolliver had not had nearly as bad a week as Hitch had had, though it had its fair share of ups and downs. For one thing, he'd only just barely managed to get the apartment back to its original state before Fritz had come home, whisking through with a grin and a wave. Tolliver had spent the rest of the afternoon in a horrible state of tenseness, wondering if his brother would notice that anything was out of order - but thankfully, nothing came to pass from it, and he'd breathed a sigh of relief.
But as the week had dragged on, Tolliver's lack of a social life, not to mention work, as well as Fritz's continual absences, had meant he'd had all too much time to reflect on his night with Hitch. He'd done his best to not overthink things, as he always did, but unfortunately there was no helping it this time. He simply had too much time on his hands, and his head was in complete disarray.
Which was unbelievably frustrating. And annoying. Fritz had asked him one night if he was okay, to which Tolliver had only replied with a middle finger and an irritated expression. He waffled over whether or not to actually go, in spite of having told Hitch that he would, because it was a week now, and he hadn't even talked to the other man since That One Night.
But he wanted to go, even if his head kept telling him otherwise, his mind trying to convince him that it was a bad idea.
Friday morning found Tolliver dressed in a black button-down sweater and dark jeans, standing awkwardly outside of Hitch's apartment. He looked down at the piece of paper in his slightly trembling hand and then back up again, confirming the address for what was probably the fourth time in as many minutes. Fritz had dropped him off - without his cane, because Tolliver had decided against it - and then disappeared, no doubt heading to work, and Tolliver had been internally debating ever since.
He stuffed the piece of paper into his pocket, and then took a deep breath.
He knocked on the door.
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 5:15 pm
Hitch had been so unsure about whether or not Tolliver would even come that the knock actually took him by surprise. He just about fell off the couch in his haste to get up, and then down the stairs (because of course he lived on the second floor). He'd cleaned the place and all, but Hitch himself was about as scruffy as he always was; a Nirvana t-shirt with a flannel, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of dark jeans. Some stray hairs were already slipping from the hair tie to hang around his face, and they swayed with his breath as he steeled himself to open the door.
He peered around the corner first, because there was still that slim chance it was his landlord looking to collect rent or complain or something (not likely at this time of day, but never could tell with that guy). When he saw for a fact it was Tolliver, he opened the door the rest of the way, flashing him a tentative smile. "Hey." ******** he was nervous; why was he so nervous? - because there were about fifteen different things that could go wrong here, minimum, that's why. Because no one had been to this place before besides him and ********, just let Tolliver be cool about it. If he played cool then Tolliver should do it too, right?
His eyes slid down to Tolliver's shoes, then back up to his face; he realized a little late what he was doing and quickly averted his eyes, mentally cursing himself with a string of words that would've made ant grandma blush.
"Any trouble findin' the place?" he asked as he stepped aside to let him up, wanting to fill the awkward silences before they could happen.
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 6:27 pm
He heard a stutter of footsteps, a click of a lock, and then the door had swung open and Hitch stood in front of him, hair mostly pulled back, sleeves pushed up, a small smile on his face as the smell of cigarette smoke wafted out to meet him.
Tolliver found himself suddenly and momentarily speechless. He pressed his lips together and offered Hitch a hesitant smile that bordered on shy as he tried to tamp down on all of the emotions threatening to rise, his cheeks flushing a faint shade of red.
He caught the once over and the blush deepened, but Tolliver just swallowed hard and said, "Hey," back, willing himself to stay calm. A nod was given, and slowly, steadily, he found his heart rate returning to normal, and damn it if he was acting stupid about this. What had happened to the quiet, self-assured Tolliver St. James?
(There was no version of him like that, save for the quiet part, because he was always wallowing secretly in anxiety that welled up in him like champagne in a corked bottle, ready to explode at any moment.)
"Not at all," said Tolliver, shaking his head a little as he stepped inside. The shabby interior wasn't exactly the most decorative of places, but it wasn't terrible, at least not to Tolliver; he gave it a quick look before he glanced back at Hitch, uncertain as to where he was supposed to be going.
"Sorry if I'm a little late, my brother dropped me off," he said. "And he takes forever to get ready."
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 6:42 pm
Did he have to keep smiling at him like that? He was irrationally annoyed that he liked that shy smile so damn much, and then he was annoyed at himself for being annoyed at something that Tolliver probably didn't have a lick of control over.
Just ******** kill him now, seriously.
Thinking ahead, Hitch dug into his pocket prematurely to grab himself a cigarette for his nerves. Even the simple feeling of the stick between his lips was comforting, familiar. "One of those fashionably late guys, huh?" Hitch's smile grew wider, and lopsided, with his cigarette dangling from one corner. "No, no, you're totally good - don't let the clock fool you, " and he gestured to the one hanging on the wall. It was from the old place, and it looked like it didn't really belong there. "I'm just too ********' lazy to fix it." He only really used the one on this phone for anything ******** he was nervous. Why was he so damn nervous? - he puffed the cigarette a little harder, the end blazing red. "You can, uh, sit wherever for now - if you wanna check the drums out you can, " he gestured vaguely in that directly, a string of smoke escaping his lips with each word. Really, realistically, the places Tolliver could comfortably sit were probably limited to the stupid couch and the drum stool. He wished he'd thought to buy a chair, or - or something.
"Do you want a drink or anythin'?" he offered warmly, tapping idly on his leg as he stood there.
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 6:54 pm
For some reason, the sight of the cigarette seemed to ease some of Tolliver's nerves, even if he wasn't the one who was actually smoking. It was such a simple, normal gesture that it relaxed him, the scent of nicotine filling his nose and senses.
"Fritz likes to think he's fashionable," said Tolliver dryly. "And, well, he kind of is, but it's positively ridiculous the amount of time he spends on himself sometimes."
He wandered around a little, eyes flickering over the interior of the house, from the clock to the couch and lastly to the drums, Tolliver still trying to quell some of the anxious flutters in his stomach. His face was faintly red, but at least he wasn't pathetically scrambling for words.
Tolliver stepped over to the drums and reached out a tentative hand, the tips of his fingers brushing over the top of one. A little flicker of curiosity had started to grow in his eyes, easing into his face as he glanced at the stool and then back at Hitch.
"What?" he asked, and then shook his head a little. "No, thank you, I'm fine. Can I, er..."
He gestured towards the stool with a nod, asking without words if he could take a seat behind the drumset.
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 7:10 pm
Hitch snickered around his cigarette when Tolliver went on about his brother. "********, the way you talk, I won't be able to keep a straight face when I meet him." Then a second too late he realized that wow, that was super presumptive, wasn't it? "I mean, if, if, " he corrected quickly, biting down hard on the filter of his cigarette as red flared up in his face. He tried to laugh to cover it, but really, it was kind of a lost cause.
Seeing Tolliver drift towards the drums, he couldn't help smiling. He remembered the first time he'd gotten a beginner set; had the look on his face that first time probably hadn't been too different from how Tolliver looked at them now? "Go ahead, " he coaxed him, stepping closer to the set to join him. He paused, leaning down to pick up the sticks he'd set out for him. "These are yours, if you want 'em, " he explained as he held them out to Tolliver with a wry grin. "5A, just do you know. Never learned from a pro or nothin', but worked fine for me when I started. Sorry they're kinda..."
Old and worn. But loved. "First thing; gotta hold 'em good." He grabbed another stick and held it between his thumb and index finger a few inches from the bottom, then wrapped the rest of his fingers around it. His left hand, the dominant one; it just happened that way. "There's other ways to do it, but uh, this is the way most people hold 'em I think."
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 7:21 pm
The presumption went over Tolliver's head, surprisingly, and he tilted his head curiously at Hitch, wondering about the correction. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'm sure he'll be as charming as ever," he said lightly. "We may be twins, but we're not really anything alike."
In looks, they were identical; in personalities, they could not have been more polar opposite. Fritz was enigmatic, confident, flirtatious and kind. Tolliver was quiet, surly, generally sarcastic, a little dry-witted - except, it seemed, when it came to dealing with attractive men with endearing smiles and soft touches.
He was not thinking about that he was definitely not thinking about that.
Tolliver slid gingerly into the seat, grateful for the chance to sit down and take some of the weight off of his bad leg. He couldn't stop looking at the drums, sweeping his gaze across them, and the interest and eagerness was growing, clearly apparent in his eyes.
He looked at the offered drum sticks, lips parting slightly in surprise, because Hitch was giving him something - he was handing him a set of his own drumsticks, that he'd used, that he'd learned on, and it was surprisingly touching to Tolliver. He sucked in a breath, and looked up at Hitch, his cheeks flushing.
"...thank you," he said softly, and reached out, hesitantly sliding one of the sticks free from Hitch's hands. He tried to slide his fingers into the correct position, fumbling a little.
"Like this?"
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 7:37 pm
He was secretly so relieved that his friend hadn't caught his slip. "Nothing alike, huh?" Hitch snickered again, and no matter how mixed up either of them was, he didn't hesitate to reach out and playfully ruffle Tolliver's hair with a cheeky grin. It was a stupid thing, really, but it was something he used to do a lot to friends when he'd had them back home, before everything. It was familiar, comfortable. "Tolli. Either that ain't right, or he ain't charmin'."
Man, he was eating Tolliver's excitement right up, seriously. Not like he'd know it, but Hitch had been down, low energy and low enthusiasm for months now. Seeing Tolliver like that, it was rubbing off on him; without him even realizing it, Hitch's spirits were lifting. "It's no problem, really - I'm glad to see 'em go to a good home." He normally slurred and cut his words a little, but it was always a little more pronounced with the cigarette dangling freely from his lips like it was.
He smiled toothily. "Almost." Hitch only hesitated for a second before he edged around behind Tolliver, reaching around to take his hand between his. Of course he felt something when their fingers touched, sharp and hot like a jolt of electricity. He tried not to let it phase him, even as he let out a slow breath between his teeth. "Here. A little lower, and loosen your fingers a little - you'll ******** your wrist up real fast if you're too tense, y'know?" he murmured from over Tolliver's shoulder.
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 7:51 pm
The hand to his hair actually made his smile widen a little, even if it was still a little hesitant. It was an endearing gesture, one that made Tolliver feel strangely more relaxed. That, combined with the nickname yet again, made him feel good, made him feel eased a little more into Hitch's world.
He could not help the snort that escaped him. "Oh, he's charming all right," said Tolliver, with a little roll of his eyes, but he sounded faintly amused. "I'm the older twin by approximately thirty-two minutes, and I'm also the quieter one, the less...bright one."
He couldn't think of a better adjective to describe Fritz, so he let it go in favor of more appealing things - like concentrating on the drums. They were well-used and clearly something that Hitch cherished, like the sticks currently in Tolliver's hands.
Looking down at his grasp on them, he didn't notice the smile, didn't even notice Hitch moving until he felt him behind him, a hand covering hers. It sent an involuntary shiver through Tolliver; he sucked in a sharp breath, hyper aware of Hitch's chest right behind him, the sound of his voice low in his ear, the feel of his fingers sliding over his. He had the terrible, almost overwhelming urge to just lean back and let himself be enveloped in those arms, and why was he so stupid, why could he not just ignore all of these sensations?
Tolliver forced himself to remain still, though it was difficult, as was concentrating. He obediently slid his fingers into the designated place, pressing his lips together and using every effort to stop his hand from shaking; a slight tremor ran through it but then settled.
"Too late," Tolliver murmured honestly. "I'm already tense. I'm...I mean, I've never played before, I don't want to ******** up your drums."
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Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 12:07 am
"So, " Hitch arched a brow at him, and there was a wicked little glint in his eyes. "Basically you're the evil twin then, yeah? - that's cool." Probably a lame one he'd heard a million times before, but Hitch tried not to sit there and over-think it too much. He made a bit of a face, something like he was both surprised and confused. "Wait, what do you mean 'less bright'? Like, we talkin' smart bright or like, sparkly-wanna-go-to-the-mall-get-a-smoothie type?"
Hitch tried to let all the little quivers he felt from Tolliver just slip past him. But it was so much easier said than done when he remembered all the ways he'd shivered last week. Maybe he seemed unphased at a glance, but in his head - there were a lot of flashes of thoughts he'd rather not be having. Like this brief, but staggering urge just to forget the drum stick correction, reach down into Tolliver's lap, and -- yeah.
It was frustrating; it wasn't like he'd never had thoughts like those before, but - he'd had to learn to tune them out, and more of the time he could. It was harder with Tolliver. Hitch had actually known him like that already, lived it and remembered every pleasured detail under that alcohol ridden haze. There was no way to sit there and dodge it any easier than he'd been able to dodge talking to Tolliver about it.
Try to focus on the drums, the drums.
He laughed softly as he released Tolliver's hand, squeezed his shoulder gently, and then leaned down and grabbed the stick again. He slammed it against one of the cymbals with a resounding crash, then against one of the drum heads, just to prove a point. "They're drums, Tolli. You won't learn 'em in a day, but you won't break 'em either - but since I got this."
He held his wrist stiff and taunt once, and began to beat it against one of the drums. "This is what it's like when you're too tense about it, see? - don't I look like a ********' robot or something? But if you loosen up, then you can kinda more..." He relaxed his wrist, more rolling the blows instead of just stiffly going up and down - and it did make a difference in the sound. "It's okay if you're still tight for awhile, but you wanna aim for this, y'know? - now hit it - " He let his arm drop, but lingered close by, pushing gently at Tolliver's back to coax him to straighten out. "Anythin' you want. Cymbals, drums, doesn't gotta be good. - ********, play with the foot pedals, go on ahead. Do whatever you want. Have a little fun."
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Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 12:22 am
He wasn't quite sure how to explain it.
"Fritz has always had this...certain sense about him," Tolliver said, casting his eyes away. "He can light up a room, charm every person in it. I just sort of...exist. Not that I resent him for it, but we're just...two vastly different people whose faces just happen to be identical."
He wasn't quite certain why he was telling Hitch about some of his insecurities, buried deep within him; he'd never even admitted his envy before, but now it was there, in the open, and he shoved it aside, sunk it deep again, tried not to be a downer.
"Sorry," said Tolliver, returning his attention back to the drums - and subsequently the feel of Hitch directly behind him. It wasn't just the uncertainty of playing that was making him tense, but the combination of that and Hitch's presence, the warmth of his fingers, the softness of his breath -
Stop it, Tolliver.
The crash of the cymbal succeeded in drawing him out of a very elaborate memory involving That Night, and Tolliver jumped, his cheeks red. He relaxed a little as he watched Hitch play, his eyes tracing the lines of his wrist to try and mimic the way he was holding the stick. His own hand slid into position, Tolliver nodding every few seconds to show that he was listening and understanding as best he could.
Hitch's hand was gentle on his back (ignore it, Tolliver, ignore it) and Tolliver dragged in a small breath before easing it out, reminding himself that Hitch was right; these were solid instruments, capable of handling an amateur's knocks.
He tested out the foot pedals, tapping very lightly on each of the drums at first - and it felt nice, it felt fun. Some of the stiffness eased from Tolliver's shoulders as he experimented, cheeks red from curiosity, eagerness. He probably sounded outrageously bad, but it didn't matter; this was something that was making his heart just a little lighter.
Tolliver messed around for a few more minutes before one of the drumsticks snapped out of his grasp and went stuttering away, and he jerked a little, thoroughly embarrassed at his ******** - s**t, sorry - "
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Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 12:42 am
Hitch opened his mouth, and then shut it, his cheeks burning. Then, hesitantly, almost like it pained him a little to say anything at all, "I get that. - the existin' thing." He chewed on his piercing for a second, not totally sure why he'd said it. Usually he wouldn't have. The more a conversation was about someone else, the more he enjoyed it, and the better it went for everyone involved.
Tolliver, though. He felt sort of... okay, saying it to him? - maybe because even after he'd ******** up, Tolliver was still here without an ounce of judgement? (Hitch wondered if maybe he was taking advantage of that, and if he should feel guilty.) "Anyway. You charmed me real good, so." He realized a little late how it probably sounded, and his cheeks burned hotter. "There's that."
Even if Hitch didn't act on it, he noticed the way Tolliver jumped when he hit the cymbal; it was something he filed away for later, if he decided to press it at all. Might be nothing. Might be something.
He eased back from the drums, but stayed close, keeping a hand on the small of Tolliver's back as a silent reminder to keep straight. (That was absolutely the only reason he was doing it.) Hitch was thoroughly enjoying watching him, though. It didn't matter how it sounded. It looked like he was having fun, loosening up, and those were the real important things to start with. - how nice was it, getting to see the joy of playing for the first time in someone else's eyes?
Then, the stick went skittering away; Hitch just laughed and squeezed his shoulder again. "Don't even worry about it, " he reassured him warmly, pulling away to go get the stick for him. "Not the first flight these babies have taken - first day I got a set, right?" He whipped the stick back and forth in the air as he talked, and his eyes were bright with amusement. "I did somethin' like you just did. Only I caught the edge, like, at this weird angle - so this literally went flying, " he held the stick back out for Tolliver to take, "hit my poor mom square in the back. No joke."
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Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 12:50 am
His gaze flickered towards Hitch's, and for a moment there was something quiet and understanding in his eyes, and he couldn't quite seem to look away. He felt his chest constrict, because maybe, just maybe, someone knew how he felt - maybe Hitch knew how he felt.
He opened his mouth, not even sure what he was going to say, and then shut it again at the next comment, his face reddening just as much as Hitch's. "I." said Tolliver brilliantly, and then hastily turned away, flustered. "Not...not sure...pretty sure it was...the other way around," he mumbled, and it was spoken so quietly it was almost a whisper, his focus readjusting towards the drums in his embarrassment, wishing he hadn't said it at all because damn it if he still couldn't erase that night from his mind.
It was hard to play with Hitch's hand constantly on his back, but Tolliver eased into relaxation slowly, the tension so sharp in him that it was like a rubber band ready to snap at any moment. But he let himself sink into the music and the drums, even if it wasn't really music.
At least until he very gracefully flung the stick. Tolliver's face was red, but Hitch's cheerful enthusiasm was making it easier to bear. He found himself smiling a little as he reached out to take the stick, tapping it absently against his other hand.
"Would you, er...play for me?" he asked tentatively, wondering if it was too personal a request. "I think I'd like to hear....you know, someone who can actually play."
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Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 1:07 am
Hitch blushed again, but he didn't know what to say; so he said nothing, the words hanging in the back of his head with all the rest of the stuff between them, heavy and lingering.
The request for him to play took Hitch by surprise, and he blushed the darkest crimson he'd been yet, grinning and rubbing the back of his neck before he finally put out the butt of the cigarette. "I, uh, don't know if I'd say I can actually play or nothin', but... if you really wanna hear, I'd love to." He was happy Tolliver had asked him, even if he didn't say it. Not because he thought he was good or anything, but - it just felt kind of good to have someone want to hear was all.
"I'm so out of practice, ********, " he groaned playfully as he held out a hand Tolliver could take if he needed it. Hitch wouldn't be pissed or anything if he ignored it though. Stools could be tricky in general, really, even with both legs working at full steam. "You... wanna hear anythin' special, or should I just...?"
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