I felt Conor still laying beside me, peacefulness hanging around on a thread. His breathing was quite heavy, but at a slow rate. There was only around four more hours until we reached our new destination, and I laid thinking about that than the blonde curled up cutely beside me. His hand rested on my perfect torso, and his finger often twitched. Kissing his forehead, put shock waves and electrical currents, pursuing through my body. I heard Price, Phil, and Joe up, listening to the banging of Prices drumsticks, disturbingly battering off the wooden table. Conor stirred, then re-positioned his head to a more comforting area on my chest. 

I had talked to Phil about Conor so many times, and the rest of them, particularly Price, because he walked into Conor and I discussing it overly loudly. It was a cycle, Conor pleading for me, and me rejecting him aggressively. With him laying there, I felt different. Like it was right to have him softly snoring on my chest. After a few minutes of Prices unbearable drumming, Conor finally opened his eyes.  Groggy, and hungover after a few drinks the night before. 

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I could hear Prices drumsticks, hitting off the wooden table, making it hard to wake. It was at the tail end of my nerves, and it woke me up, feeling hungover and misty. I dared to tell him to shut it, but then I faintly felt hands, lacing through my thick blonde hair. I looked up to see Dom, his fingertips feeling my hair, and my body laid still. A smile evaporated from Doms tanned face, and his small stubble was soft as my head had brushed against it. There were no subtle words between us, only silence. He didn't budge as I moved my face in towards his neck, filling my nose with his distinctive scent. 

His hair was truly a mess, a beautiful mess. Dom still had his jacket on from last nights show, and there was a hint of sweat mixed with his spicy cologne. "Might want to go get a shower." I said, breaking the silence, jointing back. My fingers laced through his, and a short, but predictable laugh came from him.

"Maybe." He replied, gripping my hand with his strong ones.

His smile was glorious. So perfect and I smiled back. He pulled me closer, and I melted into him, no space between either of us. After what felt like a while, Price finished banging his drumsticks and came down to wake us up, but we were awake, in each others embrace.

"Wake up you two lazy asses!" Price shouted and a laugh came from the other two, Phil and Joe. 

I looked at Dom, leaning over and kissing his smooth lips before jumping out of the crappy cubical bed. I looked at the other three, and I sent a death glare to Price for his drumming. He muttered something under his breath before laughing, obviously knowing I was with Dom. He unexpectedly dropped down from the bed, his face burning red. He then had a nerve to turn around and lay a kiss on my neck, smirking to the other three who glanced and turned away. A small squeak came from my throat when he walked away and left a disturbing silence.

Less than an hour passed, and I was sitting with Dom in the back, practising vocals and his chords. There was a tense awkwardness, not discussing in terms with what happened that night. His hands held the pick with such tight grip, riffing away to a song I wasn't even paying attention too. The window would peek some sunshine in, here and there, rarely daring to show itself. When it did, I stared at the dust particles floating around, the sun illuminating them.

Dom still hadn't got a shower, and he said he would when we stopped off for a lunch break. I then broke the silence, making Dom jumping a little as he was messing with the amp. 

"About last night-." 

"Don't mention last night, Conor."

I felt turned down again, but I ignored it before rolling my eyes and walking out of the room. Price was laying in his bed lazily, listening to music and Joe and Phil were drinking some beer at the table upfront. I dragged my feet, looking rather disrupt. One minute he's playing with my hair and the next, he rejects me. I looked at Phil, mentally asking him for a swing of his beer, so i lifted it, hazily took a chug, set it down and went to my cubical bed, leaving Dom to do his own things.

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Upon rejecting Conor again, I wanted to sprint after him, hold him and never let go, but, I left it. I still hadn't showered and I reeked of sweat, and I looked like a general mess. My fingers had indents, and they were achy. My head was pounding, I was so exhausted. I put my guitar onto the stand, going to where Phil and Joe were sitting, chatting and laughing. I couldn't be bothered talking to them, therefore they somehow ripped me into the conversation. 

"How's you and Conor?" Phil asked, sipping at the beer in his hand.

"I don't know, Phil. I want him, but it's generally so hard to express and feel that." I said, quietly, knowing Conor had shifted to his bed. 

Phil was understanding, and so was Joe. I often talked to Phil, and Joe never paid a lot of attention till something serious showed itself around.  I sat silently.

"You're kinda messing Conor up, man. He nearly cried when we were playing Sorry at the gig the other night." Joe said, looking at me in despair, flicking is long hair out of his face. My eyes widened, knowing I was messing Conor up. Maybe that was why he never looked at me when playing Sorry. I turned my head to see just an empty pathway of the beds, left and right. Price was tapping his fingers off the wood, and Conor was probably sitting, thinking. 

The bus came to a stop, and I looked outside the blacked window, finally, our lunch break. I looked at Conor who was stumbling down the pathway, his eyes the least bit bloodshot. I turned my head and clenched my fists, my eyes and scrunched up my nose.

"You can get a shower first." I said, looking deep and getting lost into his alluring eyes. I sounded harsher that I intended to be, which then I was hoping he'd known that I said it mistakenly. He looked at me in distraught, and I got up, heading out to grab some food at the small gas station. I looked behind me to see if Conor was going to come for something to eat, but my instincts told me he didn't want to eat anything. I ignored Price who tried to get me back into the bus to check him, which I faintly ignored the fact he was there. 

I sat eating my food, trying to wash away the guilt that towered over my body. I hadn't said much to Price, Joe or Phil, who were caught up in a conversation I clearly wasn't interested in. I was more focused on debating whether Conor was okay or not. I got up, throwing away the food that I barely put my fork on. "Has the Dom Craik actually caught up with his senses that he wants Conor?" Price alerted me, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes, "It isn't  your business what happens to me and him." I walked out, my legs moving vastly towards the huge bus. I was terrified of what I was going to do, but the only thing I was craving, was Conor. The bus door opened, and I grew impatient sliding between the door then hitting the button for it to close again.

I heard the shower water, hitting violently on the ground of the shower. I heard Conor mumbling to himself, and it sounded like he was sobbing silently. I knocked at I no longer heard Conor, as i twisted the handle. It wasn't locked, and he stood his red briefs, not even showered yet. His face drained, and his wide eyed stared into my distinctive soul. "Might want to lock the door next time." I nervously said, gripping at my hair. I crowded in, it wasn't an entirely huge bathroom, but it done us. 

"What are you doing here?" He asked, biting back on his lip, while the shower ran.

"Don't do that." I said, holding back on attacking his vulnerable lips.

His lip was swollen from his constantly chewing on it, and biting it continuously. I took my jacket off, making him very nervous, but confused on what I was doing. After throwing my jacket onto the pile of Conors clothes, I took off my shirt and Conors mouth dropped, pulling hazily at his lip again. He looked tense, scared.

"Turn around," I said, demanding him, "Now."

He turned around to face the wall, and my hands travelled to his shoulders, massaging the tense spots. His muscles were tense, twisted, and were painful. I rolled my palm, fixating on the crook of his neck.

"Why- Why are you doing this?" Conor asked, signing after I rolled my fingers around the shoulder blade, over onto the shoulder. I didn't know what to say, he just froze me in a spot. 

"Because," I replied, and his head bobbed back when I hit the most tense muscle. "Relax, Conor." I said under gritted teeth and short breaths. 

He shuddered under me, and my lips made their way to where his neck and shoulder collided. Conor threw his head back, granting me entrance to bite and kiss his neck. My tongue swirled and my lips puckered against him violently. The heat of the moment, I turned him around, looking into his feeding eyes and pushed him up against the wall, kissing his swollen lips. I was sweaty, and in need of getting closer to him.