In response to recent events regarding Daniel - I will no longer be mentioning him in this, or any other story. The things being said are no longer rumours and I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable by including him in this.

Trigger warning

At the side of the stage, Andy watches the boys perform, hoping that screaming words into the microphone for an hour and a half will help Remington release whatever anger in him.

There's someone at the front of the audience who starts shouting homophobic insults at the singer, and Remington shouts at him in the instrumental of Hang On To Yourself.

"How about you come up here and do my fucking job?" He threatens sharply.

The guy sticks a middle finger up at him.

Remington is fired up, and sticks his finger up right back. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SHOW!" He demands. "I DONT WANT YOUR HOMOPHOBIC MONEY!"

He storms off stage once the show is over and shoves past Andy angrily. "I'm sleeping on the couch!" He calls as he walks away, and Andy shakes his head, hearing the hurt under the anger.

"Remington, wait." Andy chases after the boy, who turns around violently, glaring.

"What?" He snaps.

"Come on, honey, I know there's something more going on. What's really wrong?"

Remington can't look at Andy. "Nothing!"

"Right. So you're this angry just because I said it might not have been Holly's brother then, are you?"

The singer nods. "Yes!" He insists, "so this is your fault!"

"I see. So this has nothing to do with these then, no?" Andy holds up a container of diet pills that he found in Remington's suitcase when he went back to the bus just after they went on stage.

Remington fiddles with his fingers and doesn't answer.

The older of the two sighs. He sees how Remington shrinks at the sight of the pills. "How long have you been taking them?"

Remington doesn't respond.

"Sweetheart, I'm not mad. Just talk to me, okay? I want to help you."

The boy looks everywhere but at his husband. "They're not mine," he mumbles, knowing Andy doesn't believe his lie. "Just since I was attacked."

"Why didn't you tell me? You know I would've helped."

Shrugging, Remington looks down in shame. "'cause I'm scared," he whispers, anger melting into sadness. "'cause I'm so scared, Andy." His eyes are glossy with fresh tears.

Andy takes his hand. "Hey, it's okay. There's nothing wrong with being scared. Do you need a hug?"

Remington nods slowly and sniffles. He leans into Andy and closes his eyes. "I don't know what to do," he murmurs, "because the only time I don't want to die is when I'm on these stupid fucking pills and I don't know what to do anymore." He wipes his eyes as Andy rubs his back, beyond grateful for the man.

"Listen to me, sweetheart, no matter how good it might feel when you're taking them, it is not the way to cope. I understand that you can't control it sometimes, and while I don't know what it feels like to struggle like you do, I am here, okay, and I am not going anywhere. I don't care how many times you tell me to piss off, I am here, with you, and I always will be, because I love you and I care about you so much." He sways slowly to soothe Remington.

"I didn't mean to shout before. I just-things got too much."

Andy kisses his head. "I know. It's okay. Like I said, I will always be here."

Remington lets himself cry into Andy for a few minutes, knowing it's better to just get it out. "Can you wash my hair?" He asks softly after a couple of quiet minutes.

"Of course I can, baby boy."

In the bus, they go into the bathroom together, and Andy flushes all the diet pills while the shower is heating up.

They stand under the water, Remington against Andy's chest, eyes closed as the man runs the shampoo through his hair. "Where did you get them?" The man asks after a few minutes of neither of them talking.

Remington shrugs. "A pharmacy," he answers, though seems hesitant.

"A pharmacy where, honey?"

"I..." He sighs and shakes his head.

Andy rinses the shampoo from his hair. "Whatever the answer is, I won't judge you for it. You know that."

"I got them before tour," Remington admits, "in case of-I don't know-emergencies?" He swipes water from his eyes. "Because I'm addicted?"

"Do you think you are?"

The boy shrugs again. "I don't know. Probably. It's confusing. I need to ask Abigail about it." He turns around and looks at Andy with a soft, innocent face. "I don't wanna meet fans tonight," he whines.

"You don't have to. It's been a rough day. An early night might do you some good." He kisses Remington's forehead. "Just as long as some bitch doesn't make you hug her again."

"She's such a bitch."

"I haven't even met her and I hate her." Hand on Remington's cheek, Andy kisses his head again. "They're all waiting for the shower so we should get out. Are you feeling a bit better now?"

Remington hums. "A bit. You know what would make me feel better?"

Andy smiles. "Cuddles and a shitty romcom?"

"No."

"No?"

The boy shakes his head and grins. "Cuddles, a shitty romcom, and your red hoodie, please."

Andy chuckles. "You and that hoodie," he teases, "alright, gimme a kiss and let's let them shower."

They dry off and pull on clothes they brought into the bathroom, and as soon as they open the door, Sebastian darts in. "No more arguments?" He asks, standing in the doorway.

"No. I'm gonna stay here tonight," Remington says.

"Okay bub."

Remington and Andy crawl into the bunk and the boy puts Andy's hoodie on. While the others are out meeting fans, Andy makes Remington something to eat and they put a movie on Remington's laptop. The young singer struggles through the food and settles on Andy's chest with his hands inside the sleeves of the hoodie. He watches the film and hums quietly when Andy starts playing with his hair. "Andy?" He mumbles, an hour into the movie.

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember when I was crying on the stairs 'cause Emerson had cancer and you promised you'd always be here?"

Andy hums.

Remington yawns. "Thank you for keeping that promise."

"You thought I wouldn't? Kitten, in what world would I not keep that promise?"

"No, I thought you would, I just-promises are kinda hard for me to believe anymore. Thank you for keeping all yours."

"Thank you for sticking with me through all of this."

"I should be the one saying that, not you," Remington says, smiling.

Andy shakes his head. "It is an honour to be with you. It always has been. You, my beautiful flower, are my favourite person. No one can ever change my mind on that."

"I can't take compliments. You know that."

"I do and I don't care. If I recall something you said in Greece, 'you're stuck with me forever, so good luck with that.'"

Remington blushes. "You remembered what I said?"

"I did indeed. What're you gonna do about it?"

"Well right now I'm trying not to blush but it's not working, so..."

Andy ruffles his hair. "Aw, I made you blush!" He teases, only making Remington blush harder.

"Shut up. I don't like blushing." He pouts and playfully seats Andy's hand away.

"Why not? It's adorable."

"What if I don't want to be adorable?"

"Well you are, so deal with it," Andy responds, taking Remington's hand and playing with his fingers. "You know, I think this is mine." He twists a ring around on the boy's thin finger.

Remington nods. "It is yours."

"Ah. So you just take what you like from me. Is that how it is?"

Again, Remington nods. "Yep. It's only fair. I mean, you took my heart."

Andy shuts the laptop since they're not paying attention to the movie anymore. "You took mine first."

"How do you know? I've been in love with you since before we first toured together."

"We never even met before then," Andy recalls.

"So? You're just so gorgeous that it was impossible for me not to be in love with you."

"Says the most beautiful person in the world."

Remington whines. "I already said no compliments," he complains, "and you're the most beautiful person in the world."

With a chuckle, Andy moves in the bed so he can lie down, and Remington happily curls into him. "I beg to differ."

"Well I don't care."

"You're very stubborn, you know that?"

Remington doesn't let Andy pull his hand away. "Yep. I do know that. But do you know that I want to cut your eyes out of your face and put them in mine?"

Andy laughs. "Honey, as flattered as I am, that sounds a bit...murdery."

"Maybe I am a murderer."

"Sure. And I'm a deep sea diver."

The boy just grins.