Part of Me
“Honestly, Aiden. I think fame’s already starting to get to you.” Jonah says as he hops off the plane, backpack tossed over his right shoulder as Aiden follows behind him down the stairs of the private plane as the setting sunlight sets in the horizon.
“Oi, fuck off.” Aiden laughs, turning at the sound of someone behind him. “Oh, Bosta! Thank you again, mate.” He’s running up the stairs only to handshake their pilot and that brings a smile to the man who seemed to be in his late forties or so. Nice lad, though. Had let Aiden steer the plane (even if it was for less than three minutes) and had dealt with Aiden and Jonah listening to See you again on full volume as they belted out their hearts because, well, they could okay?
Bosta takes the thank you and waves it off like it wasn’t a problem at all before he’s ushering Aiden off to follow before Jonah who’s already making his way into their ride—a classic black BMW (one that easily reminds him of his father Richard). Aiden thanks that driver as he makes his way into the vehicle as they get the entire star-like lifestyle that’s a little too maddening for Aiden to wrap his head around but he’ll take it.
“I’m serious!” Jonah begins, “Look at you. Private jets, private driver—fame has changed you.”
Aiden whacks Jonah’s thigh with the back of his hand before Aiden’s giving directions to their driver. “You’re not little Mr. Perfect yourself so don’t you start with that shit, mate.”
Jonah laughs and takes it for what it is before they’re settling in their seats. Aiden has his phone pulled out in front of him; he spots Jamal a quick text before he waits in anticipation for the response.
It feels like ages before Aiden finally gets one and he exhales a breath of relief. But. He doesn’t text back.
“I really hope things work out for you two.” It’s Jonah this time that is speaking. It’s soft and genuine and Aiden has no idea where that came from as their car (fucking finally) comes to a complete stop. “It just makes sense, y’know? You two, I mean.” Jonah goes on and honestly? What the fuck.
“Are you okay, man?” Aiden asks genuinely before he’s daring open his door to exit the vehicle.
“I’m just—“ Jonah starts up, tugging in his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes misting over.
“No. No, don’t start that, man.” Aiden begins to scold.
“I’m just really fucking proud of you for what you did today, man. I really fucking am.” And Aiden’s taken off guard as Jonah pulls him into a hug. A hug that Aiden gets trapped in for a few moments but his eyes keep eyeing up at, well, his flat.
“Alright, man. Okay.” Aiden chuckles, rubbing Jonah’s back. “I appreciate that.”
“I love you, man. I want nothing but the best for you.” Jonah mumbles into Aiden’s neck and Aiden’s about two seconds from smacking him silly. Jonah’s being so dramatic.
“Looove you, too, yeah. But. I gotta go yeah, so, will you just—will you let me—Jonah!” Jonah lets him go and sniffles like a child whose been crying an awful lot though there are no tears in Jonah’s eyes (Aiden thanks God for that) before Jonah’s nudging his head.
“Alright, get out of here you tosser. Go home. Get rest!” He scolds, “Nothing naughty, you hear me? We’ve got practice on Saturday and I need you in tip-top shape!” He goes on with a pointed finger and instead Aiden responds with a middle finger and another “Love you man, get home safe.” Before he’s shutting the door and exhaling a breath. Sudden nerves overflow his senses as he readjusts his backpack before running up the stairs.
He’s oh-so-fucking thankful for soccer practice at that. Running up and down bleachers has given him so much conditioning that he’s not even out of breath as he makes his way to the door of the flat. With just an exhale, he’s good and ready to go before Aiden is pulling out his key and turning it fairly slowly. Okay, maybe he should’ve texted back. Maybe he should’ve given Jamal a warming.
Well, fuck it. Here was the surprise.
“Jamal?” Aiden speaks out, poking his head into the flat—their flat—before removing the key from the lock and walking inside, shutting the door behind him. “Jammah? Where are you babe?”
