@funkycooper
[MARCH 15, 2012]
Ant's shoulder burned as he pushed his way through the crowd, pain throbbing in time with the lights. The doctors had said it was the nerve damage, that it would stop in time if he just let it heal, but-- Well. Ant didn't really have time for that.
He didn't have time for much of anything, really. This was his first concert for fun in, what, nine years? Ten? Ant didn't have much in the way of free time, lately. Ant's life was a blur of one piano after another, smoky bars shoved in between. The only break in the harried monotony was when he found himself in a hospital bed. Ant would have been thankful for the rest, if he wasn't paying dearly for it every time.
So, no, Ant wasn't exactly flush with time, but he'd made time for this.
This being Cooper Flynn, and whatever... this thing between them was. Ant didn't often go out of his way to get laid; Men and women who were trashy enough to suit Ant's tastes usually came to him. Cooper was gorgeous, of course, with a sort of feral sluttiness that made Ant's mouth water. But it wasn't Cooper's looks that had intrigued him, nor had it been when Evan had leaned in and whispered about his reputation. If anything, that had made Ant more inclined to sit and wait for Cooper to come his way.
But he hadn't. Or, well, he had, but Ant had found Cooper to be unlike anything he had imagined. Yes, Cooper was absolutely a slut, but Ant hadn't made a move yet, and Cooper seemed... oddly content with that. They'd settled into something like a friendship, bonding over favourite bands and a shared birthday. Cooper was smarter than anyone Ant had ever met before, and kind in a way Ant didn't understand. Being with him felt so safe it was its own kind of terrifying, like falling asleep behind the wheel of a moving car.
Friends can feel safe with each other, Ant told himself, friends can go to stupid concerts together. Even if he fucks you tonight, it doesn't mean anything. When he turned to Cooper, through, in the pocket of quiet between the door and the main floor, it didn't feel meaningless. It felt like it would be so easy to let it mean everything.
The lights threw pink and purple against Cooper's skin and Ant grinned at the sight, eyes following the deep shadows in the hollows of his cheeks. "Thanks for coming with me, tonight," Ant said. It had been Cooper's idea that he take a night off for once, go see his favourite band-- His first night off in a decade, all because a man he'd known for two weeks suggested it. If that didn't prove how much trouble he was in, nothing would. "I promise you won't regret it. They're great-- Their first album released like five years ago and it literally saved my life."
And then, in a small act of desperation, because he couldn't scream 'I swear I can be good! See how good I am? Please love me,' he said, "They have that post-garage revival sound you like, but with a more, I don't know, edge of British sarcasm? You'll love it." It was so fucking stupid, how much Ant wanted Cooper to know he was listening, that he remembered.
It wasn't even a fucking date. They hadn't even kissed. Ant was going crazy.
He giggled nervously. "But, uh, on the off chance you hate it, you have to promise you won't hate me." Fucking pathetic.