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Chapter 3 - 'Fortress of Tears'


He was woken by a shake on the shoulder from Chris. Joey was still huddled in his arms, buried into his chest.

“How is he?”

“He was sick again last night.”

Chris sighed. “Poor guy.”

“Are we there?” Mick asked.

“Yeah. Hotel’s waiting,” Chris said with a smile.

“Bout fucking time.”

Chris left to go and pack, and Mick set about waking up Joey, He wished he could let him sleep, but he knew he’d feel better once he was in a bed. And Mick would feel better once he sorted out a doctor to check on him.

“Babe?” he said softly, stroking his cheek.

Joey stirred, and blinked his eyes tightly shut before opening them. He moved slightly with a groan, and curled up tighter on Mick’s chest.

“You feel sick?”

Joey nodded. “Kinda.”

“We’re here. I’ll take you inside, tell me if it gets really bad, ok?”

Joey nodded again, and wrapped his arms around Mick’s neck. Pulling the blanket off, Mick sat up with Joey, and picking him up carefully, headed out of the bus.

Corey had a room key waiting, and together they ventured into the lobby and straight up to the room. Corey unlocked the door while Mick waited with Joey, who seemed to have fallen asleep in his arms.

Mick asked Corey to grab their bags from the bus, and after he’d headed downstairs gently lay Joey on the bed. He grabbed a facecloth from the bathroom, and after wetting it with cold water, went back into the bedroom to carefully wipe Joey’s face. A knock on the door alerted him to the fact that their bags were there, and he let Paul and Jim in (apparently, Corey was delegating again). He asked Paul to get their manager to arrange a doctor and sent them on their way.

When he was finally left alone with Joey, Mick sat next to him on the bed and stroked the hair from his face. Realising both of them were still in the clothes they were wearing yesterday, he changed his own clothes and rummaged in Joey’s suitcase until he found clothes he assumed were somewhat clean.

As the little man was still fast asleep, Mick unbuckled Joey’s jeans and gently eased them over his hips. He tugged them down Joey’s legs, leaving him laying there in his boxers. Chucking the jeans into a comer, Mick picked up the tracksuit pants he’d found in Joey’s suitcase. He carefully slid them on, and with one hand under the crook of Joey’s back, he lifted the tiny mans hips up to pull the pants on completely. With that done, he turned his attention to Joey’s shirt, and a few moments later had pulled it off.

He was shocked at how skinny Joey appeared to be. Of course he was tiny, but it seemed to Mick that Joey had lost even more weight in the last day or so. His ribs were visible and his skin looked even paler than usual. Mick lay a hand on the smooth skin of his chest, feeling it rise and fall. Stroking his hand up to rub Joey’s shoulder, he leant forward and lay a gentle kiss on his forehead. Making sure Joey seemed ok, he managed to get the shirt over his arms, and lifting him tenderly, down his back.

No sooner than Mick had chucked the old shirt in the direction of the jeans, was there a knock on the door.

Their manager entered with a man following, who Mick assumed was the doctor.

Mick sat protectively on the bed next to Joey, and although reluctant to wake him knew the doctor needed to talk to him. He shook Joey’s shoulder, and after the small man responded groggily, slid his arm under his back to ease him up onto the pillows. Sleepily, Joey took in his surroundings and the people around his bed.

Mick explained he’d been sick again early that morning, and he hadn’t had anything to eat since then. The doctor (who Mick thought seemed far too young, he’d better know what he’s doing!) checked him over, took his temperature (‘pretty high’), gave him another jab to stop the vomiting and told Mick to keep up with the fluids. Throughout this Joey sat curled up to Mick, arms crossed, looking like all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. The doctor explained it looked like a regular stomach bug, and if the others hadn’t gotten sick as well by now, they probably wouldn’t. Sleep and fluids seemed to the doctor’s mantra, and Mick took note.

Leaving more medication, the doctor and their manager departed, and Joey was asleep before the door closed to its stop.

Making sure Joey was comfortable, tucked up to him, Mick found the TV remote and started flicking through the channels. As usual, there was nothing on, and he found the monotonous channel surfing soporific. Feeling his eyes droop, he switched the TV off and lay down beside Joey. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man, who shifted in his sleep until he was faced into Mick. Nuzzling his face into Joey’s hair, Mick breathed in, and brushed the soft skin with his lips.

*

It was Joey who awoke first.

Laying there, feeling sheltered and protected by Mick, he didn’t want to move. It was a few moments before he realised he didn’t feel as badly sick as he had been. He hoped that this time, his stomach wasn’t tricking him. Rubbing his hand on Mick’s hip, he watched him as he slept. The thought passed through his head that a week ago he would have run kicking and screaming from the room if he’d found himself in this position with any of his bandmates. Joey grinned, and figured times change. He leant forward and pressed a kiss to Mick’s cheek, and watched as the bigger man stirred and opened his eyes.

“Hey.”

Mick smiled. “You aren’t too bad to wake up to, you know.”

Joey responded by giving Mick another kiss on his cheek.

“You feel better?”

“Yea. Hungry.”

“No Joey…. no food! You know what happened last time! You’re never eating again!”

Joey laughed and tried to push Mick over, but failed miserably - it was like trying to push a brick wall. Mick had no problem rolling Joey over though, albeit a lot more gently than he normally would. He braced himself above Joey, careful not to lean any of his weight on him.

“I think I win.”

Poking his tongue out, Joey wrapped his arms around Mick’s neck. Sighing, he lay there looking at Mick.

“I really am hungry.”

“But what if you throw up again?”

“I can’t just not eat, you know.”

Mick conceded that he had a point.

“Ok. But no burgers and fries this time, alright?”

Joey poked his tongue again.