Chapter Text
Jay felt a wave of familiar dread wash over him as he laid in bed. Another world tour, another rerelease of Never Come Down, another 17 years of the same trick he's been performing.
Jay really thought by now things would be different. 17 years of Never Come Down, 17 years of being a top charting artist, 17 years since he stopped being Jay McCarrol and became The Jay McCarrol.
17 years of throwing up after shows, 17 years of klonopin during bad nights, 17 years of star struck fans asking for photos when they met him in the street. 17 years of having a bodyguard trailing behind him whenever he left his house.
Honestly Jacob himself wasn’t all that comforting. It was the knowledge of someone trustworthy following him around that took him back to a better time. A safer time. When Matt had Jared following them around Toronto, recording themselves to preserve how they were before greatness hit them like a truck, just like how Matt said it would.
But Jacob wasn't Jared, he was cold, distant, literally. Only there for the paycheck. But that was fine, Jay was used to that.
When he had first started out, he really did think this would go away. In hindsight, it really was obvious how this life would turn out. If he saw a therapist like Reid not so helpful suggested, he probably would have realized that by now himself.
From the first moment he stepped out on the stage, to hundreds of people waiting to see him perform, he gained something he never truly had before. Control. Control over himself, control over others, control over his life. That used to be someone else's job. It was unnatural.
From that day a black pit formed in his stomach, growing slowly, with every decision he made that turned out wrong, with every funny looking guy he slept with he made sign an NDA, with every drug he put in his system he knew he would regret once it wore off, with every star struck fan who looked up at him like he hung the stars when they sucked his dick.
That’s why he liked Reid. Reid could take some of these hard choices away, tell him his plan for Jay's career, and Jay could nod along with a thin understanding and everything would be fine. Like how it used to be. But it's not. Because Reid didn't love him, he wasn't there because he loved Jay and his music, he was there for a paycheck. Reid didn't want to be with Jay every moment of the day, he called when something important needed to be discussed, texted when something less important needed to be discussed, and visited when it was a code red emergency. But that was fine, Jay was used to that.
He had to get used to that. Most relationships were one-way, transactional. He paid people to make his life easier. His relationships were short-lived and boring, his one-night stands were over as soon as they began and always ended with an NDA left signed on the table. When he was younger, he never imagined himself as being famous alone, Matt was always there, to curb the loneliness, to have at his side, someone who would never leave him or treat him differently.
It was just hard sometimes, being left alone. Scary, sometimes. Sometimes he thinks about how his mom was right. There are people in the world trying to hurt him and he had to be safe. Like when he brought a guy to his hotel room and woke up with his wallet stolen, or when that girl at the bar shoved her hand down his pants when he was just being nice to a fan. During the first few years of his career these moments always ended with him freaking out and his team having to bend over backwards to keep this out of the public eye. It was terrible, those first years, despite being so free he never felt safe, he never felt like someone was there to keep him safe.
So Jay bought a gun.
Correction. Jay bought 3 guns.
One he kept in his piano room at home, it was where he spent most of his time anyways. The other traveled with him, inside a jacket, or tucked into his pants. The last was mounted onto whatever tour bus he was using, on display, a show to whoever he brought on, that he wasn't going to be messed with so easily anymore.
And it worked. He went out and smiled at a crowd of thousands, took selfies with fans and didn't flinch when one of their hands fell too low. It was the most free he ever felt. The dread of being in the public eye went away, and fame was a beautiful thing to have when you felt safe.
The people loved him. They really did. It was at times like this, at night, alone, that he really thought about how they didn’t understand him. They thought they did. He, at multiple points, had gone against Reid’s advice and looked himself up on social media, seeing what his fans had to say about him. Seeing how they picked apart the way he walked, the way he talked, the clothes he wore, all trying to understand him, but never getting him right.
Jay sighed as he looked at his phone. Another hour in bed. He needed to be up early, Reid planned for a flood of interviews before his first show that night, and a meet-and-greet with fans after. After another half hour of tossing and turning, he gave up and grabbed his phone, opening Facebook and searching for the only reason he had this app on his phone.
Matt Johnson. Matt. His Matt. Playing his songs at the Rivoli. Jay felt his breathing pick up as he scrolled through his account, he posted pretty frequently on Facebook, leaving Jay with plenty of new posts to view every few weeks on nights like this. Videos of his cover band playing his songs, Matt on drums, leading his bandmates through the rhythm he set. He was always good at that, leading Jay around on adventures, he’s a natural leader. There were photos of Matt, some in his house, some at shows, one particularly memorable photo at the gym that Matt seemed to frequent.
Jay felt his breath hitch as he reached down, slowly stroking himself through his underwear. Matt looked good. He had filled out so much since he last saw him. If Jay was being honest, when he first scrolled through his account, he thought the man had got fat, it wasn't until he saw a candid of Matt in a T-shirt, outside of his usual getup, that he realized that drumming really does help develop your arms.
His dick was out now, his breathing got louder as his hand got faster, scrolling through photos of Matt, Matt messing around on the drums, Matt with his new bandmates, Matt with a smile on his face, a smile Jay used to see daily.
It’s times like this that Jay thinks that Matt could help him. Matt would know what to do. Matt gave him his breakout song in a dream. Matt showed him things weren’t as dangerous as his mother said. Matt who knew Jay was talented before even Jay knew. Matt who always knew what was best for him.
Jay came quietly, whining as his hand and stomach were covered in his own cum. Jay didn't know why he was keeping quiet. Not like there was anyone around to hear. And even if they did hear what would they do about it?
Jay breath slowed as he calmed down, and as his mind cleared, his thoughts went back to Matt.
Matt who kept him stagnant. Matt who wrote "Don't play the Rivoli". Matt who just stood there when he left. Matt who didn’t end up famous.
Jay turned on his stomach, gripping the pillow tight and grimacing as he felt his cum spread over his body and his sheets.
He needed to get his sheets cleaned in the morning.
-
His heart was racing the moment he saw that hat in line. Matt, in the flesh. The next few fans melded together in a blur until he was once again standing face to face with his old bandmate.
He looked even better in person. His eyes were just as Jay remembered, manic and full of possibilities, wild with chaos and adoration for him. His smile was nervous, a bit tight, like he was pitching a plan he knew Jay wouldn’t be on board for immediately.
The two just stared for a moment, Jay’s mouth agape, too focused on taking in Matt’s sudden reappearance to form any words. It was only when Jacob had come up to him asking if there was a problem that Jay had snapped out of it.
“Oh no Jacob, its-it’s fine. This is Matt! He’s my old bandmate!”
Jay could see a smile break out on Matt’s face when he had said his name, and he couldn’t help but mirror it. God he was beautiful.
Jay had come to terms with the fact he was in love with his best friend a long time ago. There had been too many guys who looked vaguely like Matt had when they were living together that ended up in his bed for him to ignore the signs forever. It had taken him longer than he was willing to admit to realize what those signs meant, but at least he got there eventually.
“Matt, come here man!” Jay opened his arms to invite Matt in for a hug, he could hear Matt’s bandmates gasp from their place in the line. When they pulled away Matt was smiling like he used to, for a moment Jay could pretend like they never broke up. Like they were here, famous, together.
“Hey Bird, it’s uh-“ Matt looked around the room, as if worried about what the others around would hear. Jay felt a bit of sadness, he had never known Matt to be someone who let his brain stop his mouth from moving. “Been a while.”
A commotion took both their eyes away from each other, “Wait is that,” Jay looked over to the door where security was trying to get a man with a camera to stop filming, “Oh my god Jared! Let him in, let him in!”
Jay gave Jared a hug, only hitting his head on the camera a little bit. “Wow you’re still doing this! That’s great! Wh-what about Pete? Where is Pete?”
“Oh he uh, quit, doing some shit with like, Spielberg now or whatever.” Matt looks more than a little peeved about that.
“Ah whatever,” Because it really doesn’t matter much to Jay, “You’re here! Wow!”
“You uhm, seem pretty excited for someone who never reached out.” Matt says, and Jay nearly apologizes then and there.
“Matt, let’s not-let’s not do this here, okay?” Matt immediately doubled down.
“Okay sure, when’s best for you? Another 17 years from now, maybe? I think I’m free then.” Matt was getting closer with every word, out of the corner of his eye Jay saw Jacob move a bit closer.
If he was being completely honest, Jay found it hard to fight the smile he wanted to show. Matt cared, he really did and he wasn’t even bothering to hide it. It also brought a jab of guilt, Matt cared because he would never have done what Jay did, he would never have left. Jay had to wave off Jacob again, taking a deep breath to try to find some way to talk to Matt later, in a more private setting.
“I have to be in New York on Wednesday, but tomorrow I can have you over and we can, y’know, hang out!”
Matt smiled a bit more at that. Good. Jay liked it when Matt smiled, he liked being the one to make Matt smile. “I’ll message you on Facebook tonight.” Matt’s smile suddenly morphed into an open-mouthed confusion.
“How do you know I’m on Facebook?” Jay stopped. F*ck
“Uh-,” Jay could see Matt’s expression veer closer to suspicion. “Isn’t everyone?”
And Matt was smiling again, his mouth wide and sincere. It’s been a long time since anyone smiled at Jay like that. He could feel his pants getting tighter. He brought Matt in for one more hug, it was comfortable. The most comfortable Jay had felt in years. Matt in his arms, Jared filming the pair. For the first time in 17 years, Jay felt understood.