The food thing had been a bit of a surprise though, and he was still stuck on how to feel about it. That Dez wouldn’t eat things that touched was his own business, and not the quirkiest thing he’d ever run across. Him letting Saint’s Seduction think he wasn’t interested in eating with them, or that something else was going on, had heaped a great deal of stress on a band who was scrambling to ensure their replacement singer was happy and felt like part of the crew.
He wondered if it was worth it to Dez, to keep all the secrets he was clearly hiding. But he wondered more if he shouldn’t have just stayed out of it and been there to support Zakk if something had gone wrong, rather than making him extra sensitive to the fact that it could.
“Don’t do anything hasty,” was all Tripp could think to say.
“I’m notdoinganything; I’m just thinking out loud.”
“If that were the case, you wouldn’t have asked for my opinion.”
Zakk sighed, and then he was moving, rolling off the bed so he could pace. Tripp draped his arm over his face and surrendered all hope of getting any more sleep.
“I’m just trying to figure out why it was so important,” Zakk said. “We formed the band to have fun, to see cool places and get laid, all of which we accomplished, so why keep doing it? Why not try and conquer something else?”
“Set any goals you want to set, but make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons,” Tripp muttered.
“So you’ve never wanted to say fuck it all?”
“Of course, I have. Everyone who does what we do has woken up wondering if their next song could top the last one, or how to make the next show better. We feel stuck, like we hit a wall and have been sitting there a while, trying to figure out how to reach the other side. When Tavis mentioned talks of a tour, my first response was hell no. I hadn’t even made a divot in the new couch yet. Then I started thinking that touring meant more time with you.”
The soft look Zakk threw him was all the assurance he needed to know that whatever other issues were going on around them, things were finally alright with them, something Tripp had wanted more and more these past two years.
“That’s the same reason I pushed for it on our end,” Zakk admitted. “Part of me wishes I’d seen Wade quitting as a doorway to spending more time together.”
“Do you really think you could tour with me, or pop up at random spots to be with me and not start jonesing for the one part of this that makes everything worthwhile?”
Grumbling, Zakk waved his arms around, stopped short and turned in the other direction, continuing his nonstop movements across the floor.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand what any of those gestures is supposed to mean.” Tripp knew he was baiting him, which might flip things in the wrong direction, but Zakk was starting to resemble a disgruntled little imp, and Tripp finally gave in to the temptation to grab his camera and take a picture of him.
The flash stopped Zakk cold, mouth half-hanging open as he stared at Tripp. Of course, that just meant that Tripp took another one.
Zakk flipped him off, and he took a picture of that too. And one of Zakk perched on the dresser, and yet another of him with his head cocked to the side like he was trying to see him and not the camera. Pretty soon, conversation was forgotten as Zakk turned their early morning hours into a photoshoot, poses both provocative and thoughtful.
He switched to black and white, wanting to preserve the moment in a raw and evocative way, not that anyone would ever see them but him and Zakk. Zakk sprawled in a chair, limbs loose and dangling, head hanging down with his hair draped over the side of his face was the final picture Tripp took.
Tripp dropped the phone on the bed so he could slip to his knees on the floor right in front of Zakk, who stared up at him through a fringe of hair. “No matter what you choose to do, I know you’ll be amazing at it. These last couple weeks though, when I’ve talked to you on the phone, you’ve sounded the happiest since I met you. You should think about why that was before you hit the kill switch.”
“Yeah.”
Zakk’s hair was cool beneath his fingertips as he stroked it. “You should come back to bed.”
“I could do that, or we could get dressed, see what we can get up to in the game room.”
“Is that your subtle way of challenging me to a rematch of Marvel vs. Cap-com?”
“It could be.”
“You’re on.”
They raced down the hall like a couple of idiots, alternately laughing and shushing one another so they wouldn’t wake up the others. Before they made it to the entertainment room they could see rapidly shifting lights skimming off the ceiling and along the wall. Someone was already playing.
“Should we go back….” Tripp hissed as Zakk’s foot hit something that crunched.
“I hope that wasn’t alive.”
“Did it squish?”
“I don’t think so. It’s not oozing through my sock.”