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Thom/Beck - Part 2	By : VinylTap Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Radiohead Views: 1975 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Beck or any of the members of Radiohead, Sonic Youth, or REM. This story is a work of fiction, and I make no money or profit from it.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
If Beck and Justin had been best friends prior to the Lollapalooza tour, the festival had got them closer still— because they experienced mutually the irreversible transformation to real fame. They’d lie together in their trailer after rehearsals, on Beck’s bed, instruments in hand, picking at details of what they ought to do.
They knew each other inside and out, they understood each other’s style and worked together without words, they dozed off with instruments still in hand like children at the back seat of a car after a long ride.
Justin gave it to Beck in a way that had him understand who was taller, it felt extra good because of what Beck had spontaneously become: the power in his stage presence, the surreal reception of thousands upon thousands at each show. Justin liked holding him face-down and striking hard into him, the metallic legs of the bed skidding gracelessly on the carpet, the frame knocking on the wall.
Beck liked it, too.
On stage, he knew how the evening would draw to a close, it was something else on which they worked together without words.
Chan had returned home after the start of the tour, he’d told Lisa excitedly about how he’d met Thom Yorke and the members of Sonic Youth, and about how cool the festival was; there was in his voice audible admiration of Beck, not only for his overwhelming reception or the artists he personally knew— but for the unbelievable show he’d put on.
He spoke of it enthusiastically to Aubrey, certain his little son understood even this early in life. He came to visit Leigh, whose apartment had been transformed into something like a small design studio, even more cluttered than it was before; he remained stood at the entrance with the food he’d brought, made from scratch, glancing around the place in attempt to figure out if there was anywhere to put it down.
It was incredibly hot inside. Even with the blinds closed and the windows open, the heat had got in and the two fans humming loudly did little to cool the place. There was paperwork everywhere, and felt-lined busts on which fabrics were pinned, the little kitchen table was piled high with folders and files.
Leigh was at work in one of the foldable chairs, barefoot, hair piled atop her head in an attempt to cool off, her cheeks were flushed with the heat.
“I brought you Moussaka,” Chan announced brightly, “I made too much and there’s some left.”
Leigh looked up from over the fabric she was pinning, she brushed stray stands of hair behind one ear; Chan could tell by the confused expression on her face that she was trying to figure out what he had said, already excited by the opportunity to explain what Moussaka was.
“Oh, you made food?” She asked, anticipation audible, she was already glancing around in attempt to figure out where he could place the large bags in his hands. Channing was as bony and slender as Beck, his hair was long and dark and his clothes seemed too loose on him; Leigh might have given Beck a call and asked if it was all right to bang his brother while he was away, it had just been so long for her. She could promise she would close her eyes and pretend it’s him, she could even have him on the line the whole time.
She might’ve, but Chan was quite happily married, and she didn’t want to screw that up for Lisa; as for the way Chan messed around with Beck, that was worthwhile for its pornographic intrigue. Beck had been away on tour for weeks now; he and Leigh had both got very busy with work. Channing always seemed to take things slowly, however, he could afford it the way Lisa took care of him. He’d somehow cleared enough space in Leigh’s kitchen to spread out his various Tupperware containers with the food, visibly enjoying himself.
“Make some room,” he said, “there’s three different sauce dishes.”
--
“I think I might have a girlfriend,” Jonny said to Colin that evening, visibly very concerned. Colin, who had been at work filling out forms, gazed up from his papers, brow furrowed. His mouth slowly went in the shape of an O, like he was trying to formulate the most appropriate question.
“What?” he finally asked.
Jon had one leg crossed over the other and was picking at his hand, where Sharona had written her number in messy handwriting; he relayed to Colin what had happened at the beach. Coz appeared visibly amused, or maybe he was relieved his brother might get a break from Thom’s advances.
“You talk about her like she was horribly rude,” he said.
“Horribly,” Jonny agreed, but he still was looking down and picking at his hand. He was immensely flattered that she asked him out. “She smokes, too,” he said, listing another fault despite which he’d already liked her— because she fancied him.
“You gonna ring her, then?” Colin asked, and Jon shrugged his shoulders, still looking at his hand. “Think I ought to?”
He disliked talking on the phone and was terribly shy; the thought of ringing her up had him terrified.
“I’ve not told her,” he said, “about the band.”
Colin froze; he chuckled incredulously, “You’ve not told her you play in the band?” he laughed, and now Jon was grinning slightly, like he’d just become aware it was absurd.
“No, I… I’ve not told her,” he said softly. He hadn’t talked to her that much at all.
“Jonny has a girlfriend,” Colin said to Thom when he walked into the room, and Jon kicked Colin straight away.
“I do not…!” he whispered loudly, visibly worried it would make Thom like him less.
“What’s this?” Thom asked, navigating his way through the messy hotel room, he got his hands on his hips and bounced a bit in place. “Got a girlfriend, have you?”
“No,” Jonny said, glaring at Coz.
“Oh, but he does,” Colin grinned contentedly, “Have a look at his hand.” He was clearly enjoying this.
“At his hand?” Thom asked, and now he was reaching for Jonny’s arm, and poor Jon had no choice but to let him have it. Thom read the phone number aloud while Jonny remained sat, visibly defeated and blushing, he mumbled some inaudible excuse.
“That’s well good,” Thom concluded, he released Jonny’s arm and gave him a brisk pat on the shoulder. “So when’s the wedding?”
Jonny flipped his head toward him with disbelief, eyes open wide.
“Jealous, are you?” Colin asked, and Thom plainly answered, “Yes.”
Now Jonny flushed even redder; this gave him pleasure, he had to admit.
“Are you?” he asked; he and Thom regarded each other quietly.
“Yes,” Thom finally said, and Jonny had never felt more important.
“Serves you right,” Colin grinned from over his paperwork, “You’ve been a proper slag.”
“Has he?” Jonny asked straight away.
“Piss off,” Thom said to Colin, “Nothing you wouldn’t do.”
“That changes nothing.”
To be continued…
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- 18
- 19
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Thom/Beck - Part 2