Twenty Second of December: Five Weeks Later

Steven had developed a hatred for alarms.

It was set rudely early for a reason, but until he was actually out of bed, a horror task in itself because it was winter and pitch black, he just wanted to sleep in.

"Mm-mm, don't turn me on," Steven said, taking the hand that had slipped underneath his boxers.

"Denying a blowjob? That's a first."

He knew it was to wake him up, because it wouldn't be the first time, and he shifted his sleepy limbs under the covers when Leah got up.

"Not by choice," he grumbled, turning onto his side. The bed had been left warm and inviting, and he took full advantage of being able to close his eyes again in a different position.

Leah sighed in frustration, yanking the duvet down.

"No, that doesn't mean go back to sleep again."

"Lea'me alooonne," Steven whined, tucking his knees up in response to being exposed to the cold.

He was too slow blindly trying to cover himself up again, missing with his grabbed hand, and received a pillow to the body.

"Owww!"

"Steven." Leah thwacked him again, earning another prolonged grunt of pain. "Get up."

Steven made more incoherent noise at the abuse, but eventually swung his feet over the edge.

With narrowed eyes from sleep, heavily furrowed by a frown of disapproval, he made sure he was balanced before he started walking. Unfortunately, Leah must've thought he was time wasting and jumped on the bed to attack him from above.

"I'm up! Staap!" Steven covered his head with his arms, shooting her a glare. "Fucking meanie."

"Then get a wriggle on!"

He tried to surge forward and slap her leg, but Leah avoided his attack and continued to laugh at something he wasn't finding funny.

Defeated, Steven dragged his feet to the bathroom, fiddling with his crotch when he yawned because he was still half asleep, until he felt a soft, but firm impact hit his back.

"Hey!" His voice cracked when he turned around, and he looked down to see a pillow by his feet. "What was that for?"

Steven didn't get the pleasure of hearing Leah's reply, or throw the pillow back at her, because he was flat on his back, in bed, and his eyelids were fluttering from sudden bright light.

He was confused, swearing it had been real, but he was definitely lying in bed, and now, trying to shield his face.

"You gonna stay awake this time?" The duvet was pulled off him. "And good morning to you too..."

Amidst a groan, Steven looked down where an inconvenient hard-on was making a statement in his boxers, and sat up. He rubbed his eyes, yawning, and watched his girlfriend rub perfume into her wrists.

"You're dressed?" he asked, squinting awkwardly.

"Yeah," Leah replied obviously, grabbing a hairbrush. "I got up, and when you weren't replying to me, I realised you had fallen asleep again."

"Fuck," Steven muttered, reaching to tap his phone screen. "I swear my alarm only just went off."

"Yeah, fifteen minutes ago."

Steven slugged his shoulders, and reluctantly got out of bed. His hair was a mess when he raked a hand through it on the way to the bathroom, but a shower and double hair dryer treatment would fix him up before the radio show in the afternoon just fine.

"Fuuuck, that's so bright." He shielded his eyes with his wrist after jamming the bathroom light on.

With a bit of difficulty due to his unwanted morning wood, which was strange because he wasn't usually horny when they were natural, Steven took a long piss, washed his hands, and set his task on a shower to wake him up.

Unfortunately, he was unable to miss the horror of his reflection when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

"What the..." He held his hair out of the way, eyes widening. "LEAH!"

Steven rushed out of the bathroom, holding the collar of his t-shirt.

"Leah!"

She was making their bed, but paused.

"Yeah?"

Steven yanked his collar down further.

"Why the fuck do I have a hickey!?"

Leah pushed out her mouth in innocence, attention returning to adjusting the top edge of the duvet.

"No clue," she said, smoothing the creases out.

Steven couldn't believe it, nor that he hadn't woken up before he could stop the mark that was now imprinted to his skin and would only deepen in its inflamed red colour.

"Did you- did you do this just now?" He automatically stepped back so she could walk past and neaten her side of the bed.

There was still no reply.

"Leah." Steven didn't like that smile she was trying to hide. "Did you do this when I went back to sleep?"

"I guess? I had to wake you up somehow."

"SUCKING MY NECK!?"

"Shh!" Leah turned around, frowning. "It's too early to be shouting."

"You know I'm on tv today! I-it's not just a radio show- the episode is recorded!"

"Really? I didn't know."

Detecting the sarcasm, Steven followed her helplessly to the chest of drawers that had an overnight bag on top, packed with clothes for both of them, and an empty wash bag.

"How could you do this to me?" he despaired, rubbing his fingers sadly on the red mark.

Leah sighed.

"Go and have a shower." Pitifully, she placed her hands on his chest. "We have to leave by eight."

Steven opened his mouth to protest, but she just placed her finger on his lips to catch his intake of air.

"Also-" She moved her finger to kiss him lightly. "-I didn't even touch you. That was entirely your reaction."

As if the morning couldn't get worse, Steven really had got turned on by his girlfriend making a love bite on his neck whilst he was asleep. Leah was so confident with him now, and it only encouraged challenges like this between them.

"Don't even think you are getting away with this."

"Just wear a scarf!" she suggested, on her way out.

Steven grumbled to himself at the easy solution, and yanked off his top.

It was going to be a long day.

<>

New York:

"Good time?"

Steven stopped dabbing concealer on his neck, disappointingly looking at his best friend in the reflection of the mirror.

"Like you've never got a hickey, Joe."

He continued fading out the edges, with his fingers and the brush, trying to match his skin tone as best as he could, but it was no use.

"If you keep fiddling with it, the makeup will rub off."

Glancing at Joe in the mirror again, the guitarist had welcomed himself in the dressing room. He had kindly pulled the door closed, before he perched on the arm of the couch, but since privacy had been lost, Steven threw the brush onto the table.

It hit various products, and the momentum had it clattering onto the floor.

"It doesn't cover it up anyway." Steven turned away from the mirror, scratching the top of his hair in frustration.

He tugged his bottom lip tight between his teeth too, knowing the mark on his neck was visible, and was just waiting to hear an unhelpful comment.

"You could've worn something less revealing," Joe said, gesturing a wrist towards him. "It's December, and an unbuttoned shirt and a pair of jeans is a bold choice."

"I have a jacket, Mr Fuckin' Weather Man," Steven defended, slamming a hand on the leather material draped on the back of the chair. "But we're inside and it's too fuckin' hot to wear it."

"Okay...what about your scarf?"

"What did I just say!?"

"Hey." Joe frowned at the volume. "I'm only tryin' to offer you solutions. I don't want to argue."

Temper detained, Steven breathed out slowly, but being put in his place by Joe pissed him off, and he turned back to the mirror to adjust his appearance.

Hair, necklaces, knot on his loose fitted shirt with black and white stripes in various thicknesses on the main body and sleeves. He fiddled with his eccentric, golden tinted belt that was looped in black skinny jeans, untucking, re-tucking, and every time he caught a glimpse at the hickey, his actions got more aggressive.

"Are you nervous?"

Steven didn't reply, despite it not being the reason.

"We've had the briefing, so Howard knows not to ask about the past too much." Joe must've sensed the discomfort, because he moved to sit on the dressing table instead, leaning his body closer to catch the distracted attention. "What's up? This isn't like you at all."

Shoulders tense, Steven fiddled with an open button hole on the edge of his shirt. He refused to look up past ash grey jeans with rips in the knees that were now in his peripheral vision.

"I dunno," he admitted, staring at his black cowboy boots that made a statement footwear choice up to his shins. "I just feel like something's...off."

Although Joe didn't speak, Steven felt inclined to make himself clear that it wasn't because of the mark on his neck.

"And no, it's not this. I don't care about this really, but it sure is a pain in my ass."

He couldn't explain it, especially since he had no reason to feel anything other than excitement. Leah was with him after taking the day and tomorrow off, and because of that Liv too, and they would be watching and listening to a live feed out back.

Like Joe mentioned, the band had met Howard Stern and his team, had been introduced with warm welcomes, and had discussed pointers so that things that they wanted avoided wouldn't be awkwardly brought up and brushed over in conversations.

Steven appreciated Howard's show and was a fan of his work, and it was why he was so keen to take the opportunity to accept an appearance with his four bandmates. They could promote Aerosmith whilst being themselves, and gain interviewing experience that was such a vital part of their career.

There was nothing to worry about, and yet he had an anticipation of something toying his confident self that he couldn't shake off.

"I think you're caught up in your head," Joe said, sliding a hand on his shoulder. "C'mon, they're waiting for us."

Before the touch disappeared, Steven tapped the squeezing hand with his own, forcing a smile on his face.

"You're right," he accepted aloud, trying to convince himself. "Yeah, you're right. I'm in my head."

Joe seemed pleased for the change of heart, offering a piece of chewing gum after popping one in his own mouth, and led the way out the dressing room.

Confronted with a camera, which was always the plan as they walked to the set, Steven struck up conversation.

"That's a nice jacket you got there, Joe," he said, pointing out the sewn patch of their band logo on the right shoulder.

"Thanks, man. Can you believe a fan made it?" Joe knew to play along, and although it would usually be a convincing exchange between them, it was made to look a bit staged.

"No way. Really?"

"Yeah, I know. It's a perfect fit and everything."

Passing a few behind the scenes crew and subtle chatter, Steven was gifted with an idea.

"A stalker?" he asked, flicking his gum to one side of his mouth. "A Joe Perrrrrry p-p-pursuer? Quite a pressing predicament."

Joe couldn't hide his smile, pushing a floppy section of hair out of his face. When he didn't have a guitar, he often touched his hair or fiddled with a ring on his finger to keep his hands busy.

"Steven, I'll get a restraining order on you if you're not careful."

Tweaking the comeback, Steven looked straight into the camera.

"Hi, if you're Joe's secret admirer please could you make me a jacket? We're the same size, which is why he steals all my clothes when he's at my house. Thank you kindly."

An effortless request, and an unnecessary bit of information topped off with a wink, Steven had probably just screwed himself over for future run-ins with fans, but he had no time to take it back.

Himself and Joe received a final check over by staff, and they were ushered into the on-air interview set.

One after the other, the boys walked in and joined Joey, Brad, and Tom who already occupied a sofa.

Howard Stern was behind his triple monitor set-up, sound decks and audio mixers on his desk, headphones on, and a microphone that he could adjust the position of by its arm. Robin Quivers was behind her private set-up opposite, and the quieter sound effects maestro Fred Norris was behind his desk that was off camera and out of shot most of the time.

"Well, if it isn't the rest of the band. Steven Tyler, and Joe Perry have finally shown their guilty faces. What have you boys been up to?"

"The exact question on all our minds." Tom looked over his shoulder, which was the suggestive reaction that wasn't needed, but very typical of him.

"I got stage fright, Howard. I'm just such a huge fan." Steven explained himself, taking a seat directly in front of the radio show host.

The space had been given to him, since the three had shuffled up so they occupied both sides of the corner sofa, a special set up because there were five of them, along with the Christmas theme for a festive spirit, and Joe was able to take a place on the end.

"Is this true Joe?"

Joe adjusted a clump of hair so his headset was positioned comfortably.

"Which part?"

Steven had grabbed his own pair of headphones from the mini table, also putting them over his head.

"The part where there's a secret love affair going on behind the scenes between you two. Your relationship is a hot topic, and not just within these walls."

"Steven and I are in happy, healthy relationships," Joe said, looking over at his best friend.

"With each other?"

A few bits of laughter escaped, Brad covering his face with his hand, and Joey dipped his chin to the collar of his chequered shirt that had been buttoned up most of the way on top of a black t-shirt.

"Girlfriends," Joe elaborated, though he expressed amusement at the accusation. "We both have girlfriends."

"Jesus, how much have we missed?" Steven asked, foot flat on the seat cushion, holding his shin.

Tom was the only one who managed to more or less keep a straight face.

"Yeah, not much," the bassist replied.

"A lot," Robin laughed, confirming the suspected truth a second later.

"Steven, I can assure you, everyone in this room will respect you the same way-"

"No, basta, basta!" Steven waved his wrist in disapproval at the host. "This early on? I'm telling you I'm just a diehard Howard Stern fan, so of course I'm going to get nervous before I show my face. Joe's good at talking me out of my head." His defence was followed by greeting the other two members of the show. "I also love you two- Hi Fred, Hi Robin."

"What is that, Italian?"

"Hi Steven," Robin returned, silencing Howard's questioning.

"Fred's behind us?" Joey craned his neck, trying to look over the screen that formed part of the backdrop behind them.

"Yes, he's behind the screen because I don't like to see his face," Howard explained, bringing his mic closer.

"He's very distracting," Robin added in agreement. "You're just instantly fascinated when he's chewing a pen and the expressions he pulls."

"I don't like to see your face either, Howard," Fred said, camera temporarily flipping to him.

"But-" Howard paused, resting the tip of his finger on his tinted glasses, unable to hide his smile. "But, this is why we're still doing this together- a mutual respect for one another, just like I'm sure you five feel about working together."

"Sounds very familiar." Brad was nodding to the truth behind the analogy.

"Too familiar," Joey added.

"And I really am privileged that all the members of Aerosmith are here today, so I gotta say thank you all for making the trip down to New York."

"Sure, it's a pleasure to be here," Steven affirmed, the agreements from the band following his lead.

He knew Howard was being genuine, because his entire character was based on exploring the questions talk show hosts didn't have the guts to ask. It was why he had so much respect for him, even if being on his show was likely to end up in some sort of embarrassment.

"So, Steven..." Holding the mic arm, Howard read off one of the bits of paper he had in front of him. "Born March twenty sixth, which makes you thirty four years old. Stuck with the stage name Steven Tyler instead of your birth surname Tallarico. You have a young daughter, currently in a relationship-"

"You got my whole life written down or something?" Steven was joking, but the obvious was there to be stated.

"The basic facts, but I want to know, like I'm sure a lot of people are asking, what's Steven Tyler like? Are you a dedicated family man, or do you live to be an extravagant showman?"

Chewing his gum, Steven rubbed his hands on the shin of his boot, fingers interlocked, and the right escaped to adjust his headphones.

"I'd say both, because I'd like to think they overlap in some ways. Y'know, home life affecting my work, and vice versa. Liv is three now- my daughter- and my girlfriend, Leah, who I'm not allowed to boast about how amazing she is, make me love my life and what I do. I love my family, and I'm lucky that I can call Aerosmith- these guys- my family too.

"Not allowed to boast?" Howard asked back. "That's because Leah's here with you, and your daughter, watching behind the scenes?"

"I'm under specific instructions," Steven confirmed. "She doesn't want me to embarrass her."

"Guys, does he do this often?"

"Howard, Leah is one of the few people he listens to all the time," Tom said, adjusting the stylish black jacket he wore. "It's a miracle."

"Because she tends to be right," Steven pointed out. "You lot are full of shit."

"Steven, would you choose your girlfriend over your band?"

Ignoring the comments of disapproval to his right, Steven hesitated, automatically accomplishing a y-sound but holding back from agreeing completely.

"No way, you love us?" Tom was in a teasing mood. "Aww, you do love the band. We're your family."

"Shh, no one tell Leah," Joey carried on quietly, despite his mic picking up his voice.

"Shit, Howard, that's not fair." Steven changed his sitting position, shuffling into the corner of the sofa to drag up his leg so the side of his ankle rested on his thigh. "I can't choose between my career and my personal life. I can't be without either of them."

"You're right, you're right." Howard held up his hands, but he obviously enjoyed the fun. "That was mean."

"Leave Steven alone." Joe was fiddling with a stray bit of fabric on his ripped jeans. "He's a fool in love."

"God, don't say that," Steven groaned, rolling his head on his shoulder. "I'm not a sap. I'm just a guy who loves love."

"You're being a sap right now," Joey laughed, the hand massaging the side of his dyed curls of hair shooting out for emphasis.

"How else am I meant to- hey, don't you start laughing, Dr Fucking Love." Steven nudged Joe's knee with his boot, offended by the drag of hummed laughter.

The guitarist's head remained dipped downwards, a fluffy halo of hair covering the majority of his face. Even his headphones were nestled into the depths of his dark mane.

"Steven, Steven." Howard regained his attention over the boys taking subtle digs at him. "I can tell you're uncomfortable, so we'll show a photo of you in your element as a family man."

"Y'what?"

Robin was chuckling to herself.

"Baking isn't your forte," she said, which was all Steven needed to know.

"Oh no, not that photo."

Howard continued, "Well, it's actually a video first which we will play purely for entertainment purposes. Take a look."

Whilst Steven prepared himself for another viewing of the 'fun' day late in the summer, the rest of the boys mumbled about which screen to look at, then directed by a point from Joe who spotted it first.

"No matter how young a prune may be, he's always getting wrinkles...A baby prune is like his dad but he's not wrinkled quite so bad. We have wrinkles on our face, a prune has wrinkles every place! No...matter how young a prune may be he's always getting st-"

Steven spluttered the final 'stewed' of the prune song, rudely interrupted from his focus of decorating gingerbread cookies with icing, by a cloud of flour slapped either side of his face.

"What!?" he shrieked, hearing his laughing daughter and girlfriend. "Why did you- arghh it's in my eye! I was- I was making such a pretty gingerbread and look, it's ruined! You both- Blue! How could you?!"

Liv was no use, giggling with an icing bag in her hand, so Steven tried turning around, but Leah was hugging his waist and hiding her laughing face behind his back.

When he clocked the phone ahead of him, he let out an exaggerated groan.

"Isn't that the sweetest thing?" Robin said fondly, when the video ended.

"Pranked by your family, whilst singing a song about prunes. Can't say I've ever seen anything like it."

"Did she send that in?" Steven demanded from the host, recovering from the state of himself on video, and how he still couldn't believe he hadn't noticed anything.

"Your girlfriend? Yes."

Sitting back, Steven fiddled with his necklaces.

"I can't believe I'm being sabotaged," he said, moving the headset wire that had slipped between the open collar of his shirt.

"What was the first? The hickey on your neck?"

Steven realised his mistake of adjusting the fabric of his shirt and jewellery to reveal the mark on the left side of his neck, and Howard didn't waste any time picking up on it.

"I told you Joey, I knew it was a hickey!" Tom exclaimed, clicking his fingers towards the drummer.

"You know what?" Howard gestured over the sparkly silver tinsel that decorated the top of his monitors, "Let's zoom in on that. Get a real good look."

"I did tell you to wear a scarf," Joe reminded unhelpfully, flaunting a smug smile.

Steven scrunched up his face.

"Fuck you. It's too hot, man."

"Too hot? I'm in a coat." Howard lifted the sides of his navy duffle coat. "It's freezing out."

"Well, you would be a bit warm Howard if you were in my position with the entire studio against you."

"I'm not against you, Steven."

The singer looked left, gratefully feeling a bit of support.

"Thank you Robin. I appreciate that."

"Steven, the point is..." Howard's deep voice overpowered the minor chatter. "Is the hickey a story you want to share?"

"No," Steven replied, pressing a tight smile that reflected his excitement for the topic. "No, it is not."

"You really are a man of your word." The radio host seemed impressed, glancing down at the paper in front of him. "But I'll leave you alone, Steven for now. Tom, let's talk about you."

"Yeah- oh no, I don't want to receive the same treatment. Is it too late to leave?"

"I'll go easy on you, don't worry."

"You know, somehow I don't feel assured..."

Steven zoned out for a moment, glad to be out of the firing line, but wanted a serious word with Leah when this was finished. If he wasn't so caught up in his head, he might not have been so defensive, and he hoped he could get through the next hour without doing something stupid.

"Tom, you were born in Colorado but grew up in New Hampshire, and you're...six years married?"

"Yeah, that's right, six years."

"Married man to married man, how do you find it?"

"Oh, you know, I just do what my wife says, and life's great."

Howard definitely appreciated Tom's humour and ability to keep a straight face.

"I do know," Howard said, breaking into a smile. "And I couldn't agree more."

"So Tom gets no reaction, but I get called a sap for saying I listen to my girlfriend? That's a joke."

Taking off his headset, Steven stood up. He had already seen the bin under Howard's desk and took the opportunity to remove his tasteless gum from his teeth and throw it in there.

"What's up with you? Did you wake up on the wrong fucking side of the bed?"

"Yes I fucking did Howard. And it doesn't help that it's always the lead singers that get the most bullshit thrown at them."

Steven blinked a few times to regain his present self, having imagined himself doing something unprofessional, let alone out of character, and was glad to be lazily chewing on tasteless gum again.

"...bass players?"

He missed out on the full question, but he looked over at Tom when he started speaking.

"Definitely yeah. My favourite bassist would be John Paul Jones, but a close second has to be Paul McCartney."

"Can't fault your choices, Tom. They're two of the very best."

Steven was also glad the topic had shifted to music, and he stayed quiet whilst the attention was not on him.

"Why the bass? Any particular reason?"

"That would imply there was a question why not the bass."

"Point taken. Tell us, why should we all play bass?"

"Better," Tom replied seriously, but quickly broke character. "No, I'm from a little town in New Hampshire, and there was a band that I wanted to join when I was...I think about fourteen? Trouble was, they already had two guitar players- I played guitar at that point- but they had a bass and said 'if you try this, you can be our bass player' and well, I did. I loved it and just stuck with it from then on."

"What a great little story. And you played guitar?"

"Yeah, I still keep up with it." Tom touched the back of his head. "But a couple years after that, when we were all at the same school and Aerosmith was born, I was set on being the bassist. The guitars can be left to Joe and Brad."

"Speaking of guitars, Joe..." Howard flicked a page on his desk, then looked up again. "You two already knew each other when you were both teenagers?"

Tom gave a nodding gesture that allowed Joe to take the question.

"Yeah, Tom and I went to school together in Vermont before we moved down to Boston," Joe answered, fiddling with a ring on his finger between his knees.

"But you're Boston born and raised?"

"I think we can tell by the strong accent you have," Robin added on.

"I was born in Lawrence, but I'd say Boston is my home," Joe confirmed, turning back to Howard. "We've all lived in the city at some point, including all together."

"He's rubbed off on us, Robin," Tom was saying in a side conversation that must've been about their time living together. "Though Steven might be able to elaborate on the...details."

Steven rolled his eyes, appreciating that for one, Brad sided his corner with a telling off, and second, that Howard didn't feel the need to switch the subject.

"Joe, as much as I'd love to talk about your guitar work, I'm simply blown away by your gorgeous, gorgeous body."

Howard could be very random naturally, but he might have set a world record for his standards.

"You know, I'm glad I have a similarity with you with the curly hair because in every other way, I feel like I should be bowing down to you."

Robin was chuckling away, "He wouldn't stop looking at photos of you."

"Do you blame me?" Howard challenged his colleague, defending himself with no shame. "I'm simply appreciating the man behind the music from all angles."

"Don't worry we all have a crush on Mr Pec Deck," Joey spoke up, with a sly intent. "You're not alone."

"Mr Pec Deck? I love it." Howard looked like he had completed life, sitting back in his chair. "Fucking love it."

"I think I know how Steven felt earlier," Joe mumbled, thumb rubbing the side of his nose. His smile appreciated the compliments but it was all crooked with a shy reaction of not knowing what to say.

"Steven, what's the smirk for? You've been very quiet."

"Pfft, I'm not smirking." His foot was back on the sofa cushion, but he didn't look at Howard for a good second or two. "I'm just enjoying myself now."

An elaboration was not prompted when the change of heart was because the embarrassment was getting equally shared.

"But Joe, presumably to get in your shape, you have to like working out. Do you do it for a sense of achievement?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, I suppose in some way," Joe replied, finding a way to generalise the subject. "But, y'know I made a lot of changes in the past year or so, and physical fitness was high on that list. I just wanted to take care of my health."

"And tohaveanexcusetotakeoffhisshirt." Steven coughed into his fist at the end.

"You do realise you're the one with the least amount of clothes on." Brad looked over, referencing the outfit. "By quite a substantial margin."

"That is true. Steven, you're not afraid to take your shirt off either."

"Look." The singer held his hands up innocently. "I'm just here to please."

"Really. What do you mean by that?" Howard pressed, sensing the suggestive nature. "Would you care to take off your shirt right now and tell us?"

"Is this not enough for you?" Steven gestured to the section of his naked chest on display, moving his knee out to the side. "Though I don't think I should be showing my skin when I'm sitting next to Joe Perry."

The host laughed.

"If you won't take off your shirt, fine. I still have every faith in you that you'll find a way to add something to the performance later on."

"Ooh, yeah." Steven rubbed his chin in thought, a flash of seriousness causing him to frown. "Well, you could always roleplay as a front row flasher for me. That might turn a few more heads than me taking my shirt off."

"Enough with the flirting," Robin tutted, fighting with a smile. "This is a radio show."

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry. We'll save this for later." Steven apologised, before slamming his hands on his thighs. "Howard, stop laughing. Do your job, and I'll do mine."

"You are something else, Steven."

The singer took it as a compliment that he was making a good impression, laughing to himself at the silly turn of events.

"Alright Joey- Joey Kramer, you're Aerosmith's drummer."

"Yep, that's me."

Humour lingered in the studio, but Howard composed himself.

"The heartbeat of the band, and I'm sure I'm not the first to tell you, but your talent is already getting recognition from clips of your tour earlier this year."

"I mean, I just play what feels right." Joey showed his humbleness with a casual shrug, "I don't think it's anything special, but I'm honoured that people think that about me. That's pretty cool."

"Cool? Joey, it's fuckin' awesome." Howard wasted no time hyping him up in a typical manner of holding his mic closer. "I know next to nothing about drums except it looks like one of the hardest instruments to master."

Joey was trying to play it off.

"Eh, you hit some things with sticks and it makes a lot of loud noise."

"And for most it sounds horrific."

"Sure, maybe at the start." Joey let his smile fade. "But with everything it's just practice and keeping yourself motivated with goals. All of us were beginners at some point, and we still make mistakes now."

"Can I add something?" Tom's intervention was polite, like he wanted to speak up before the moment passed.

"Of course, yeah. Go ahead."

"I was gonna say, it actually still amazes me how Joey always makes it look so easy. Being able to stand in front of him whilst he's doing his thing is just incredible. We can all look at him for a cue, and he knows what to do, and then the rest of us follow his lead."

"And that's because of the chemistry you have- a real understanding of each other." Howard's statement was rhetorical, a deliberate start to a compliment. "Sitting here and talking to you five, I can see you're all so close with one another. Robin, wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh, definitely," was the emphatic reply. "It's really refreshing to see, actually."

"It really is, and I think it's a rarity these days, but it's something you need to be a continuously successful band when the whole world is thrown at you."

The guys took a moment deciding who was going to expand, but it was Joe, recovered from his gorgeous body image discussion, to express his gratitude for being where he was.

"Y'know, like Steven said we're a family," he said, earning what could only be a silent agreement around him. "And everyone knows families are both your saviours and nightmare, and I'd say that's a good way to describe us."

"It's a marriage on the road," Steven mused, being his natural self. "Fuck hard on stage, and the hard work goes on behind the scenes."

"Not literally," Tom reiterated, a palm raised like havoc was about to unleash. "But we have a great time up there."

"I can really tell." It was another praise from the radio host that all five members took in their own way. "Are you still at that stage where you can't believe you've made it?"

"To perform in front of big crowds?" Steven asked back.

"Performing, recognition, headlines," Howard went onto list.

"Sure, in some ways, but we've always thought of ourselves as a concert band, so if anything we already had the confidence to perform songs to people."

"The crowds though. Thousands, tens of thousands. Does seeing such a huge crowd of people waiting to watch you guys live make you feel nervous?"

"I think it's a natural reaction for all of us, yeah," Joey answered, voicing the general nodding consensus. "But like Steven said, this is what we do- this is what we love so it doesn't last long."

"Yeah, y'know being on stage is the joy we get after rehearsing the same songs over and over again." Joe took over, adjusting the right ear of his headphones. "Concerts are where we can play our hearts out without being limited to what's goin' on the recording track."

"And it really is just you and your instruments up there. All live music."

Steven decided to provide a change of direction.

"You'll have to come to a show to find out, Howard."

"Oh, believe you me, I will be," the host assured with triumph. "I can't express how much I'm looking forward to your performance today."

"We'll hook you up with some tickets," Steven said, like it could be done with the click of his fingers. "Crew too. "

"Are we the first to hear the unreleased song?" Robin asked, which was genuine too, because the band had decided to keep their live performance of their new song quiet with as little information about it as possible.

"Yeah," Joe confirmed. "Along with people tunin' in."

"I don't suppose we could stretch that performance with another off your debut?"

"Why, what do you wanna hear, Robin?" Steven returned, with an enthusiasm that was probably interpreted as a bit flirtatious, especially since he poked his head up and looked over in her direction.

"Well you know, both Howard and I have a soft spot for Dream On, and we'd love to hear the story behind it."

"We do- God, Dream On I could talk about that song all day."

"Aw, Steven's blushing."

"What? No I'm not." In a defensive manner to Tom, Steven hiked his leg up to hold his ankle again, and ignored the heat in his ears. "That's ridiculous."

"I believe there was a reason for the release date," Robin prompted, and she wasn't being subtle about singling him out.

"And I thought you were here to support me."

"I am, I am."

"Steven." It was Howard's turn to give him an earful. "If you're embarrassed, that means it must be a great story. C'mon let's hear it."

"No, it's...it's for another time, maybe." Steven almost let it slip, he knew it would eventually, but he was too busy smiling to himself and passing a thumb over his lip to hide it. "It's just a date. That's all."

It was a date. But it was a day in the three hundred and sixty five in a calendar year that defined a heart-breaking end and a beginning of opportunities, and a date he chose with flat out refusal for any other options.

"Look at you." Robin sounded in awe. "Just how much do you love her?"

"I feel like I'm missing something here. Did you two-"

"You're not." Joe interrupted the host, looking fondly to the man on his right. "It's just a very important song, especially to Steven."

"If someone did something like that for me..."

"Robin, I should never have told you." Steven regretted the conversation prior, expressing his displeasure by not glancing at the female co-host and giving her the satisfaction.

"And I'm so glad you did."

"Steven, how about this," Howard proposed, in a tone almost enough to make him sigh. "Seeing as you and Robin have clearly discussed something I'm unaware of, which is fuckin' rude-"

"Let me have my fun," Robin asserted, her signature laugh following after.

"I know, I know, but let's talk about Brad, then Dream On, then the new single, and then Steven, you give us the story."

"No no no, because you'll want the story straight after and we will conveniently run out of time before the next song. I know how this works, Mr Stern. I wasn't born yesterday."

Steven adjusted the sides of his shirt with pinched fingers, and improved his victorious slouch on the sofa by spreading his arms out, one behind Joe, the other on the furniture arm he was nestled into.

"I can't even say you're no fun, because you've been brilliant, all of you such great guys to talk to, and I think we've even saved the best 'till last."

"Ah I don't know about that." Brad was quick to deny himself the title. "I was hoping these guys would do the talking for me, but I guess my interrogation hasn't been forgotten."

"No one can forget about you, Brad, and I don't want your talent going under the radar, because every single one of you makes Aerosmith."

The rhythm guitarist was more interested in prompting Howard to read the paper his palm was flat on.

"C'mon then, tell us what's on the paper."

In another unwanted flash of anxiety, Steven started twisting his promise ring on his finger. He kept his face and body language normal to show he was listening to what was going on around him, but he excluded himself from a speaking role.

A glance at his watch told him he'd been on air for almost forty minutes, which meant they were about halfway, give or take.

But Steven wanted to see Leah, at least during an intermission break. Check like he had done constantly in the car, the meeting of the crew, the final kiss before she left him alone in his dressing room to freak out, and ask for the hundredth time if everything was alright.

The ring was keeping him calm when he knew she wore hers. It just didn't tell him why he felt like something was wrong, and had done since he woke up.

"...and attended Berklee School of Music which makes you the most decorated musician on paper."

Brad, in his usual manner, tried dismissing it.

"I don't think that makes me any better than these guys. Take uh- take Joe and I for example...We have a different style of playing, and there are things he does naturally that I wouldn't even think of."

"Isn't that the beauty of having two guitarists in a band- switching between who takes lead and rhythm?"

"Sure, yeah. Joe usually takes lead, but there's never that strict role between us. He comes up with a riff, so it's natural for him to play it, but playing songs live requires a lot more co-leading."

"That...process of knowing which of you plays what, it has to take practice?"

"Practice, yeah." Brad was only in half agreement. "But it's improvisation too, and giving that extra bit of a deep cut feel compared to what you hear on the recorded tracks."

"Brad, I wanted to ask, your addition to the band wasn't the same as the others. How did the opportunity arise?"

"Yeah, so Ray Tabano, who is now our manager, was a founder," Brad explained. "Him and Joe were on guitars, and then when he left, they were advertising a position for a second guitarist. I was new in town after graduating, didn't think too much of it, gave the audition a shot, and was fortunate enough to replace him."

"So, a change in line-up before your first album, and Ray ended up as manager for the band he left. I think that's incredible."

"Sure, that's one way to put it." Brad was smiling, shared by most of his band mates reflecting on their younger days. "We had to wait a long time for a chance, but we were determined to make it, and yeah...here we are."

"Here you are indeed, and I think that leads perfectly into a brief intermission where we'll be back with Aerosmith performing their new single out tomorrow, December twenty third."

Howard smoothly provided an end to the first half, fiddling with a few options on his audio mixers and receiving the thumbs up when they were offline.

"Alright, five minutes boys and then we're back on air."

A slouch down the couch and puffs of cheeks was elicited from Joey, exaggerated of course by the big smile on his face.

Tom stood to stretch his limbs in conversation with Brad, Joe too to dispose of his gum, but Steven was the only one with an intention to leave.

"I'm just- bathroom, I'll be back," he announced to Howard- to anyone who was listening- and didn't wait for a response.

Headphones off, Steven left the studio in what could only be described as a rush.

There was no camera or mic following him this time, thankfully, and the tasteless gum he had stuck behind his front teeth was pushed at with his tongue.

He eventually hooked it out of his mouth as if he was angry for the distraction to his rushed actions, and finally his wide eyes, singular focus, and obeying legs took him to a quiet back room.

"Steven?"

His loud entry through the door and unexpected presence had him falling to his knees in front of Leah.

"What-"

"I have this horrible feeling something bad is going to happen and I can't shake it off," he confessed quickly, keeping the side of his face on her knee. "Please, please tell me you're okay. I know I've asked so many times, but it won't leave me alone. I feel like I'm going-"

"Daddy, why are you here?"

Steven ignored his daughter standing next to him and the gentle tug on his sleeve, finding it too hard to process another question.

"-I feel like I'm going insane," he whispered, staring blankly at the wall.

In the moment that followed, Leah lifted up his head, supporting under his jaw, other hand smoothing back his hair, and her thumb touched his desperately hung lip that was almost trembling.

"Are you okay?" Steven asked once more, having the need to catch his breath. "Please tell me if something's wrong."

"I'm..."

Leah trailed off, only sending him deeper into despair. His eyes flicked across her face, falling into complete fear when he was pretty sure she was paler than usual even though winter weather had naturally removed the deep tans from a few months ago.

Maybe she hadn't been sleeping as well, or eating as much, but Steven didn't know when they only had meals together on the weekends, and the occasional breakfast and dinner during the week.

"I have a headache, but it's nothing to be so worried about." Leah answered him, with much confusion over his anxious behaviour. "Why are you in such a state?"

"Have you taken anything?"

"Y-yeah, about ten minutes ago."

Steven stood up with such haste, he hadn't realised Liv was fiddling with his bracelets.

"Jesus Steven, what's wrong with you? Hey, it's okay, Liv come here."

"I-I don't know," he said shakily. He was about to rub his face when he saw he was still pinching the gum tightly between his fingers. There was a bin in the corner of the room, and he disposed of it there. "I don't know what's wrong with me- why I feel like this. I just don't know."

Comfort to his daughter was happening behind him, and Steven was being a shit father, let alone human being, for not acknowledging it.

Leaning into the closest wall with his palms, he shut it out. He shut it all out, even though time was ticking, and someone would find him soon.

Steven was breathing hard, and he flinched when his back was touched. He tried relaxing when Leah nudged his shoulder with the bridge of her nose, and her arms wrapped around his middle, but he couldn't.

"This isn't like you at all." She rubbed up his ribs. "It's really not that bad- the tablets will kick in any second."

Aching with a gut feeling that had proved to be right, Steven turned around in her arms and buried his face in her hoodie.

"I don't want to go back. I want to stay with you."

"You have to go back."

His response was to hug her tighter.

"I can't sing. I can't do it."

"What? Of course you can."

"No," he protested, clutching the back of her hoodie tight. "I don't want to leave you."

It had to be today, of all the days, when he was doing something important for his job. Miles from home, of which he wouldn't return to until tomorrow, and neither a time nor a place to have a minor breakdown that his therapy sessions and home remedies had helped him prevent.

"Look at me." Leah pushed his chest back, much to his distress. "Liv and I are fine back here. We're watching you on the tv, quietly because you keep swearing, and we definitely haven't come up to New York to watch you chicken out of an interview."

Regrettably, Steven's eyes lifted to a deadly serious hazel pair. His head remained low, hung in shame, and he had no option but to take the figurative kick in the balls, listening to the wise words of his girlfriend.

"So pull yourself together and don't let whatever it is bugging you, make a fool of yourself. You're better than this, Steven."

In the meantime, Liv had wandered over, and lifted up her finger.

"It's bleeding."

Sense knocked into him, Steven first looked down at his daughter standing by Leah's leg, and resolved his past actions by the attentive father he was renowned to be.

"I'm sorry, blue." Crouching down on his knees, he gently took her hand to inspect. "Did I catch your finger?"

His thumb passed over the small bones of her fingers, but his narrowed eyes challenged what she had claimed. A tiny scratch on her knuckle that was a bit red, but nothing severe.

"Hm, I don't see any blood, but we might have to cut it off just to be sure. I think that's the only way forward here."

The hint of a smile appeared when Liv pulled her hand away and hid behind Leah's legs. He peered around, and he was fairly sure he was on the right track for forgiveness.

"Steven, you have to go. It's been five minutes."

Standing up, and flicking his wrist to check the time was confirmation of the hurry he was now in.

"Yeah, I know," he mumbled, rubbing his tear ducts. "I'm going, I'll see you in a bit."

Steven walked backwards, feeling for the door handle and pulled it down. He sidestepped out, but pointed a stern finger at his daughter.

"Be good, and we can get ice cream after."

"Okay," Liv agreed happily, climbing back on the sofa where Patch was.

"Go," Leah urged with a smile, intending to push him out. "And it's winter?"

"It's New York!" Steven took his chance to steal a quick kiss.

Reassured maybe, but not cured, he rushed back to the studio, and was bombarded with a couple of behind the scenes crew with equipment to attach to him.

No questions were asked whilst a pack was fixed on the belt by his hip, one he lifted his elbow for, and he was handed an earpiece to jam in his ear. It was quick and easy, and he adjusted himself on the casual walk to the live set at the back of the studio, ready for him and the band.

"Steven, you're back!"

"Before you say anything, I just checked in on my family, and lost track of time."

"I was beginning to think you'd run away, and we'd have to get a search party ready."

"No, I'm still here." With a polite smile, Steven took centre stage and fixed the position of his personally decorated microphone, guitar strings picking either side of him.

The boys warmed up their fingers, headphones either on, or half on, and Steven picked up his pair that was by his feet. He cleared his throat a few times, taking deep breaths since they were thirty seconds away from being on air again, and was relying on his vocals that hadn't been warmed up like he would have done religiously in a concert situation.

"You good, man?" Joe asked from his left, fiddling with the talk box.

Steven nodded, double checking the in ear piece was working.

"Yeah, all good."

Now that he was here, the final band checks commenced and it smoothly entered them into the second part of the interview, where Howard had moved around to the opposite side of his desk and the camera set up had changed accordingly.

They were live again, and ready to perform in a festively themed band set up that included a Christmas tree behind Joey and his drum kit.

"Steven, I think I have to ask, why do you dress your mic with scarves?"

Howard swivelled in his chair, openly gesturing to the eye-catching patterns that decorated the plain black mic and its stand.

"That would be because of the queen of rock 'n' roll herself, Janis Joplin," Steven replied fondly, plonking his right hand on top of the knot and gently pushing it away from his body. "She inspired me in so many ways, and this is because of her."

"And you change them for each show?"

"Oh yeah." Since he didn't have a headset, he did have to speak into the mic, but he could still flaunt the scarves by wrapping them around his hand. "They have to represent where we are and either match, or contrast what I'm wearing."

"Is there a...particular reason behind the outfits? You all have a style, but only you, Steven, seem to opt for the skin tight jumpsuits, or whatever you prefer to call them."

"You certainly make lace and suspenders work on a man, I'll give you that."

Not only were Howard and Robin back to their usual selves, with suggestive comments that Steven was meant to take and calmly dismiss, or go with the flow, but he already knew where this was heading.

The nudge in his back delayed his response, but after he had accepted the maracas Brad held out for him, he was more than happy to oblige and play the part of a pleaser.

"I know where this is going," Steven said, gracing the host with a sly smile. "And everything you see is real."

"I think we're going to need confirmation. Guys, you've all gone very quiet."

Steven turned around to assess the scene behind him, but they were all trying to ignore the topic of his penis with attempted straight faces, and thankfully so. Joe wasn't helping himself by holding a talk box tube between his teeth, and smiling around it, but then he was the one who had seen his dick the most, not that he'd ever admit that on radio, or anywhere for that matter.

"We're a bunch of guys." Steven shrugged, maracas shaking when he returned forward. "We've all-

"Three- three times the size of the thumb," Tom interrupted, talking into his mic. "Is that the saying?"

Robin laughed, Joey did too, and Howard had been given free candy to delve further into the inappropriate topic that was only appropriate on his show.

"Steven, you have big hands," the host pointed out, and the cameras were definitely providing the visuals. "Very big thumbs."

Steven, unfortunately, had no option but to stop these accusations before they spiralled out of hand.

"What do you want me to say, hm? I have a big dick? Sure, I have a big dick, and it's staying in my pants."

Joey decided it was his time to shine, and performed the classic 'ba dum tss' on snare and cymbal, providing the end to the joke that was not a joke at all.

"Jesus," Steven muttered, lacking the energy to argue against the laughter and teasing comments his friends were making.

He looked like a fool, so he deliberately adjusted his belt, pulling his jeans tight to show he wasn't lying. He couldn't wait to get them back; Mr Kramer and Mr Hamilton particularly.

"Alright, alright." With a smile himself, Howard held his hands out, indicating their fun was over. "Now that that's out in the open...or not, let's hear the new single, Sweet Emotion. Whenever you're ready, boys."

It was the first time the name of the single had been publicly disclosed since they had wanted to keep it a secret until its release date, and this was their first live performance of it.

The band collected themselves, ready, and Steven waited for Tom's sweet baseline to begin.

There was something about the lick that defined their sound as a band, and because it was a new song, they were all naturally excited and had high hopes for it being a fan favourite.

Bars of perfect playing went by, Steven in the zone with his trusty maracas, Joe singing sweet emotion through the talk box during the intro, and this was them playing a mastered live version of the song that was slightly different to what was on the recorded version.

Joey knew his cue, filling in the song with a new layer of drums, and Steven was singing the title, dragging out the notes of the two words in a way only he could.

The verse hit, a fresh dynamic to the song, and not only did the bassline change, but the guitars came in with the aggressive punch that defined its rock category.

Steven talked the lyrics, but he always found his niche to mix things up and deliver them in a style that suited his voice. They were all lost in the music they were creating, listening to themselves, and absorbed in each other, and Steven moved to the side so Joe could join him for the chorus again.

A perfect harmony was made between their voices, the iconic mic sharing that would involve a lot more moving and acrobatics on a huge stage before they sang together, but confined to the space of a studio, just a few tricks with the scarves would have to do.

The song changed flow again, slowing down with Joe messing around to create feedback, and Joey hit them into the ending instrumental and guitar solo that Steven had just as much fun being a part of.

They had an ending rehearsed, unlike the fadeout on the track, and five minutes later, Sweet Emotion had officially been shown to the public. It was such a powerful song in its lyrics, but credit had to go to Mr Sweet Emotion himself, Tom Hamilton, who had written it all on his bass.

They received an animated round of applause from the three in the studio, and there were definitely big smiles on their faces, as well as the performers themselves.

"That was fantastic! Aerosmith performing, for the first time live, Sweet Emotion, and it's out tomorrow with the full album on...?"

"April eighth," Joe provided, tinkering on his strings which just so happened to be a muted version of Toys in the Attic.

"Can we know the name of the album?"

There was general avoidance as the response, because there was to be no hint of the name until the day it was released. Steven, although part of this agreement, just had another way of supplying an answer.

"Yeah, it's what Joe just played." A smirk had appeared on the corner of his mouth, taking out his in-ear piece so he only had to wear headphones. "That's the title of the album."

"Full of secrets, aren't you?" Robin said, lacing her tone with disappointment. It was also the exact moment another member of the crew came in, and as Steven was looking in that direction, the interruption that started out behind the glass made his brow twitch with a frown.

"I see how this is gonna be, but Sweet Emotion, then. It's gotta be a straight hit?"

"We hope so, yeah. Just have to see after tomorrow."

Steven tried re-engaging with Howard and his interest in the song, but he was too invested in what was going on to his right.

The boys stepped up and filled in for his silence, and Tom could expand on a lot, seeing as he wrote the song, but professionally, Steven should have at least been paying attention.

A sudden swallow dipped in his throat, the high from singing having worn off so he was no longer blinded by the passion for performing music, and when two concerned expressions caught him staring- one belonging to a shaken Robin, another of a guy he hadn't seen, Steven took his headphones off and ran straight out the studio.

He could explain later, apologise profusely for ruining the show, not take a pay cheque- he'd do anything to keep his image respectable- but right now, he had to get to one person.

"What's happened? Where is she!?" In the corridor, Steven heckled the man who had talked to Robin, and probably made him shit his pants.

"U-um, bathroom. Down there."

Direction taken, Steven left the poor guy for dust. His audio pack fell off his belt, but it wasn't any louder than his cowboy boots thudding the distance in sheer panic.

"Shit!" His knees took full brunt of his stop, and he jerked his head back the way he came because he didn't know Liv's whereabouts.

He clenched his fists trying to decide if he should go back and check, bouncing on toes and heels, but he just hoped one of the crew was keeping an eye on her, because he couldn't turn back now.

Once he found it, Steven barged into the ladies', scanning the cubicles, and found Leah in the third slouched on the floor, elbow on the rim of the toilet and in a considerably worse position than when he had left her barely ten minutes ago.

"You told me you were fine! You said-"

"Go and get my bag."

He ignored her lazy speech.

"No Leah! Tell me-"

"Oh, shut up." Eyes closed in pure pain, Leah squashed her cheek in her hand and held her hair out the way when it fell across her knuckles. "I bought tests with me, I just haven't used them yet."

Steven froze, because there was only one type of test that she was referring to. He had been so stupid for not putting two and two together, because it was as clear as day now, and a result might have been the only positive that could cure his unknown cause of anxiety.

His silence was deafening, and he must've looked like a right idiot standing there with his mouth hung open from being interrupted.

Leah managed to peek at him again, and when she did, he saw the shocking colour of her face, understandable considering she must've been throwing up, and then had put up with a few seconds of his dickhead moves.

"Are you really going to make me get them?"

She sat up, Steven watching, and the effort it took to mask her shivering by grabbing a bit of paper to wipe her mouth, brought him tumbling down from his high horse, with the correct tone of voice.

"No I-I'll...I'll get them," he mumbled, not quite knowing what to do with his hands. "I'll...get your bag."

The last part was to himself considering he had successfully programmed his feet to move in a direction where he could be of some use.

It was oddly quiet walking back, but maybe that was because he couldn't hear anything over the rapid beat of his heart.

Liv wasn't in the room when he retrieved Leah's bag, which suggested she was probably in a different lounge with someone else and asking a lot of questions.

Steven managed to avoid people, but in reality the one person he saw avoided him because of his evident hurry with a handbag clutched in his right hand.

For the second time, he entered the ladies' bathroom, but unlike the first, no accusations fell out of his mouth.

Leah glanced over at his presence, now standing and drying her hands with a paper towel, and he placed her bag within her reach.

"I didn't want to jump to conclusions when I missed my period." She must've felt the need to explain, popping open the clasp of her handbag. It didn't require much digging before she revealed a pregnancy test from the contents. "But now I think it might be real."

It was more than just a reality check. The baby hadn't been talked about since her birthday, and now, with their symptoms apparent, Steven would be beside himself with joy if they were expecting.

"I'm sorry for doing this now," Leah continued with an apology, in an unnecessary effort to make amends with him. "I bet I was the one who made you look like a fool after all."

"No-no don't be sorry." Steven closed the gap between them with a touch on her side. He kept his hand there, checking he hadn't made the wrong move, and slowly progressed the physical contact with a weak hug. "They'll understand. Don't be sorry."

Steven held her properly since she was still shaking, and he felt her knees knock into his. Nerves, being sick, excitement- maybe a bit of all three, but he did his best to show he was right there, with her, and that he always would be.

"Liv's in Howard's lounge with a lady I can't remember the name of now." Leah had stepped back and was pinching her brow, humoured by her own brain fog. "Can you go wait in there? I want to do this on my own."

As much as he didn't want to leave, more so now than he was earlier, Steven wasn't going to argue.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Of course."

Leah looked surprised.

"I really thought you were going to say no then."

He let up with a small smile, glad he could induce a hint of her own. He wasn't lying when he said he always listened to her, because he did.

"I'll um..." Leah took a deep breath, concealing the pregnancy test up her sleeve. "See you in a bit."

Steven was no longer numb in shock, and was in fact buzzing at the prospect of their family expanding. He had to mash his mouth together to stop a huge smile bursting, and took a step back.

He just wanted to make sure he would be available if she changed her mind, and his hesitancy to leave, something he was always teased about when he was tongue tied, was as obvious as could be.

"Text me if you want me. I-I'll have my phone now."

Leah must've sensed there was more, because of his excitement driven words.

"Anything, and I'll be right back."

A shooing gesture was what he was given. Steven muttered a repeated apology, and awkwardly left the ladies' bathroom after opening the door initially into his foot.

Howard's lounge was his destination, and a happy trance was the fuel for his walk there. No one tapped him on the shoulder, or stopped him, and he surprised himself by turning up to the correct place, phone retrieved and in his pocket, but then there was a very helpful section of glass where he could see who occupied the space.

"Daddy! Where did you go?"

"I can take her now," Steven had barely walked in before he dismissed a woman with an impressive perm of ginger curls. "Thanks for keeping an eye on her."

If she said anything, he didn't hear it, but he'd have to find her again before he left the studio when he wasn't so distracted with a strong possibility of another baby Tyler.

His leg was being pulled at, but before he hoisted up his toddler, he needed to wash his clammy hands that had suffered the full extent of the highs and lows of emotions.

There were attached facilities, and Steven made his way into a small bathroom.

"What's wrong?" Liv rephrased her earlier question.

"Me? I'm okay, blue," Steven replied, lathering up his hands in soap.

"Where's Leah? She said she...didn't feel very well."

Warm water washed the soap streaks off his skin, but he was raising an eyebrow at the bouncing feet of his daughter so her shoes lit up with colours, and the way she was standing with hands behind her back, leaning against the wall, was a bit too familiar.

"She's okay too," Steven assured, drying his hands quickly. "She'll be here in a moment."

"But her head hurt and-"

"Ooh you are full of questions, and I think you need to pee before you ask anymore."

He grabbed her hand, and by some miracle pulled stretchy jeans and undies down and got her to sit on the toilet.

"That was a close call, wasn't it?"

Liv shook her head in disagreement, holding onto his forearm.

"No it wasn't."

"Hm, I think it was. Why didn't you ask the lady you were with to go?"

"April is nice," Liv decided to say instead, gently swinging her legs. "She knows Joey."

Steven, apart from reaching over his shoulder, was not expecting to be ushered into silence. An April who knew Joey; he could only guess what that really entailed.

"Huh," he verbalised in surprise, handing over a couple of folded bits of roll he had torn off.

"I'm done."

Steven blinked a few times, remembered what he was doing, and as a second nature, completed toilet duties. He had to lift Liv up since she wasn't quite tall enough, and bent his knee to rest under the sink so she could sit on his thigh and wash her hands.

"Steven? Steven!"

"Quick quick," he whispered to Liv, setting her safely on her feet.

"St-"

"I'm here." He made a rushed appearance back into the lounge before Joe and Tom could chorus out his name again.

"He's in here," Brad leaned back out the door, ushering whoever he was talking to.

"Where did you go? You just ran off, man!"

"Is everything okay?"

"We heard Leah might be sick?"

Number one was Joe's frustration that usually came before concern and was saved for his pleasure only. Number two was Tom being genuinely thoughtful rather than sarcastic, and number three was Joey sharing the knowledge he must've got straight from April, coincidentally the same female standing close beside him, but that could be addressed later.

"I'm fine. Leah's-"

Placing a hand on Liv's head since she had nestled close to his leg, Steven stopped talking when Howard appeared, all six foot four of him making Tom look short, and about the same height as the door frame.

Not only was Steven experiencing the accountability of ruining the live show, but that he had let his four best friends down.

"I am so, so sorry, Howard. I can explain everything-"

"Please, don't worry about it. I've had weirder things happen on the show." He seemed adamant, but just as keen to leave when someone out of shot called his name. "Just a second!" He hesitated, addressing everyone in the lounge, "I'll be ten minutes, and then if it's all good with you guys, I'm going to need you back in the studio. I hope that won't be too much a problem. A wrap up, a couple of photos, and then we're done."

"Sure, whatever you need." Steven needed to redeem himself considering his exit must have stirred a lot of havoc.

"Great, I'll be back soon."

With a pleased smile, Howard left, only to swerve out of the way of Leah.

Steven's instinct was to step forward so she didn't have to walk so far, but his voice didn't work when he tried to speak.

Everyone in the lounge looked behind them, acknowledging the presence of another, and most definitely shared the curiosity of what secret was being kept from them.

"I wasn't expecting a crowd, but I guess you would all find out by Loudmouth anyway."

Gratefully, Leah decided to unfreeze the awkward scene and sit down on the sofa, dropping her handbag in the space next to her, and everything about her was impossible to read.

Instead of sitting, Steven chose to settle on his knees in front of her, hovering a hand out for no reason, especially when he would have to put it down before it started shaking.

The suspense was making him a mess all over again, and he wasn't really sure how to interpret what she had just said.

"Did you- are you...?"

With a quiet sigh, Leah stopped nibbling the corner of her mouth as if she were acting annoyed, and let it stretch in a smile.

"Is that a yes?" Steven was practically begging for clarity.

"We..." she started, with a purpose that could only mean one thing. "Are having a baby."

And just like that, Christmas had come early.

It was the positive end to a day that had been dragged out with unnecessary worry, and Steven's gut feeling may have been wrong, but it had led to the news he was going to be a dad for a second time, and with someone he didn't think possible he could fall in love with anymore.

"You're pregnant!?" Tom exclaimed, almost falling off the arm of the opposite couch. Brad had already sat down on the cushion, legs crossed at the ankles, but he leaned forward too like he couldn't quite believe what he had heard either.

"According to the two tests I took, yes."

"That's amazing, Leah!" Joey sent his genuine respect, palm on his chest. "Wow, congratulations! Both of you."

Since Joe was present, Liv had wandered off to her favourite Uncle, forcing him to take a seat next to Leah, but even he was able to speak before Steven did.

"Are you crying?" Joe teasingly accused the man on his knees.

"No," Steven answered defensively, but he did have the urge to sniff and use a knuckle to catch a rogue tear that had somehow appeared.

"Yeah, right."

"Aww, Stevie got it up, and aimed his shot."

Leah wasn't impressed by that one.

Hearing the scoffs and snickering behind was enough, so Steven stuck up a firm middle finger behind his head to get them to shut up.

They did...ish.

"That's great news. You're already a natural with this one, Leah. I'm really happy for you."

Steven glanced at a fondly smiling Joe, holding Liv in his lap, who in distaste of the situation, was fiddling with his jacket.

It was only when Steven felt his limp hand dangling by his side get fumbled with fingers to hold, that he faced forward again.

Leah was almost leaning over her knees, squeezing his hand, and using her free fingers to sweep a curl of hair out his eyes.

"I was expecting you to be jumping for joy."

Even his laughter was coated with a choke of tears.

"I am on the inside, I'm just-" Steven stopped, held, and took a deep breath, and as delicately as possible asked the question that had been answered about four times already. "We're really having a baby?"

Leah nodded slowly, the same smile tugging at her mouth.

Relief, love, and elated happiness screwed up his face that had been trying to cry.

"Oh my- come here." Steven muscled his way onto the sofa, making it a bit more of a tight squeeze for three adults. "Liv, come here too."

He gestured, holding his hand out for her to take, whilst his other arm looped around his girlfriend's shoulders to pull her close.

"Go on," Joe encouraged, not delaying the family reunion. He politely stood up, and went across the room to sit next to Brad.

"You're gonna be a big sister, blue." Steven said, with a gasp of excitement, holding her middle so she was balanced on his thigh. "How does that sound?"

Liv had been frowning the entire time, not interested, and not pleased in the slightest.

"Bad," she expressed passionately. "Don'wan'to."

The adults laughed, their sympathy futile, but they all tried to get Liv to change her mind. It was never going to happen so easily, because Steven knew it was because she would hate having to share his attention with a baby.

"You'll remind her of this day when she's older?" Leah leaned into his neck, keeping her voice down, despite there not being the need with the conversations that had erupted in front of them.

"Most definitely," Steven mumbled back, dipping his nose into her hair. He breathed in her scent, refraining from letting his hand rubbing her side slip across onto her stomach where they had had a confirmation of the start of life.

He wouldn't leave her tummy alone now, not when their baby was growing in there, and he was already thrown into thinking about a first scan, which might be soon if the birthday sex was the night they conceived.

"Ohof," Steven groaned, flinching when Liv elbowed inside of his hip, because she had decided she had had enough of being held hostage in family time.

Naturally, she went straight back to Joe, shoes lighting up as she walked, and used his knees as a climbing frame.

Steven sighed.

"Are you going to say when you go back in?" Leah asked, apprehensive by how her fingertips touched the skin of his chest, and caught his array of necklaces with great interest.

Again, their conversation was entirely private, because the other couch was full of activity, with pointing fingers and gasps and Christ knew what they were all so enthusiastically laughing at, or trying to convince the other.

"On radio? No, of course not. I think we can keep this out of the media for as long as possible."

"You know you'll have to tell Howard when he comes back."

Steven made a small noise of displeasure, locking her fingers so they didn't fiddle with his buttons.

He wasn't doubting trust, he just wished it had all happened under different circumstances. At home, just him, Leah and Liv, and only the three of them knowing for a while.

But here they were, in New York, causing a radio show drama with a pregnancy reveal to their closest friends.

"April's nice." Leah moved her cheek against his collarbone, as if she was attempting to look up at him. "But our first interaction will forever be her bringing in coffee and me rushing to the toilet."

"Aw, you like coffee too."

"I know," she whined, capturing his sympathy.

Continuing the comfort with his hands, Steven assessed what he saw ahead of him.

Joey wasn't making it obvious, but he touched April's back, and their close proximity to each other, were all indications that they were familiar in each other's company.

"Do you feel alright now?" Steven asked, dragging his eyes away. "Still nauseous? Headache?"

Leah uncurled from his side, and he lifted his arm up to give her the room to stretch. It was also the first opportunity to look down at her stomach, covered by a navy hoodie and a long sleeve underneath, but to know their baby was growing in there was something he couldn't quite put into words.

"I'm absolutely shattered." On cue she yawned, squeezing her eyes shut so all the crinkles appeared. "But honestly, that ice cream doesn't seem like a bad shout."

A first sign of cravings to come- of everything to come- Steven hummed, pulling her close again, and slipped his hand to rest on her stomach.

He was glad she couldn't see the smile that arose from a simple touch, let alone have her made aware of the pride that blossomed in his chest he received from being a protective boyfriend, because it would just be something else to tease him about.

"Sounds like a plan to me," he mumbled, placing a kiss on top of her head.

In less than nine months time there would be a new addition to the clan, but Steven decided he would keep his suspicions of what they were having to himself for a bit longer.

They had a busy year ahead, but it had just become an even more exciting one.

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