"1...2...1, 2, 3, 4!"

Joey shouted, his head bobbing in time as he counted the band down into the song they were about to practice.

His drumstick brushed swiftly along one of the hi-hats of his drum set, kicking off the intro of Aerosmith's new song 'Toys in the Attic'.

Toys in the Attic was a song that Steven had written last minute - not without the weeks of Joe's constant nagging lingering in the back of his mind, pressuring him to write something that would blow away the label and make the fans go wild.

And after reading the lyrics and composing and practicing his guitar part for hours, Joe was confident that this song would be a smash hit. Hell, maybe this album would skyrocket them to super-stardom and make them worldwide superstars. They'd already released two albums, both which sold well and had produced successful tours, so this album could be their ticket to rock 'n' roll fame.

Joe's teeth ground against each other as he focused on playing the riff flawlessly, his hands gliding up and down the neck of his Les Paul, his skilled fingers finding their way to every fret. He'd played this guitar a thousand times, and he was gonna play it thousands of times more.

"Stop! Stop!" Joey unexpectedly shouted, standing up and waving his arms in a stop gesture. "Joe, why'd you stop?"

Joey, Tom and Brad looked simultaneously over at Joe whose headphones remained clamped over his ears, a sheepish expression painting his face.

"What? Oh, well, Steven should be the one to sing, I can't..." Joe gave an awkward smile, his cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

He wasn't cut out to sing. Everyone knew that. He couldn't hold a note or even sing in-key without his voice constantly pitching. Steven himself had said that during a crazed alcohol and drug-fuelled night.

"I know man, but Steven isn't here right now. You need to fill in for him."

"Me? Sing? Guys, you know I can't sing," Joe protested, his fingers curling anxiously around his instrument. "Steven-"

"Joe, come on," Tom insisted, quickly cutting him off. "it's only for a few minutes. And it's just a practice session. It's not like we're recording or anything."

"Why can't you sing?! I only do backup vocals."

Joe was feeling himself get heated. It wasn't a big deal...it was just a practice session, but even so, he hated being the centre of attention. And everyone would be listening and hearing his awful singing and judging him.

"Do I look like a singer? And I only do backup vocals," Tom quipped, a hint of sass dressing his voice.

The guitarist's face immediately caught fire, embarrassed by Tom's response. Joe didn't like being sassed at, but he held back his words, not wanting to escalate the already frustrating situation. He ran a hand through his hair, trying not to crumble from pressure.

"And you sing onstage and during recording," Joey pointed out.

"That's different. I always sing with Steven, not by myself," Joe defended.

"Man, c'mon, we're not gonna judge you. Just try and be a good team player right now," Brad chimed in softly, a warm smile appearing on his lips.

"But-" he continued, not wanting to lose this already lost argument.

"Joe!" Tom, Joey and Brad shouted in unison. "Sing!"

"Okay, okay. Fine, I'll sing." Joe rolled his eyes, stepping up to the microphone.

"And a 1...and a 2...and a 1, 2, 3, 4."

"In the attic lights,
Voices scream,
Nothing's seen,
Real's a dream" Joe sang, his voice wavering, though slowly mustering some confidence.

He could do this. He was doing this!

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the other members back step back, their face's distorted. Their opinions on his singing were made pretty clear.

Into the chorus, he was struggling to control his voice. And he was sweating, he could feel the sweat forming on his back. Maybe it was stress or just nerves. But he didn't have anything to be nervous about, right? Well, there was Steven of course, regarding his health that is.

"Toys, toys, toys in the attic,
Toys, toys, toys in the attic,
Toys, toys, toys in the attic,
Toys, toys, toys in the attic"

Just as the song was about to break into the instrumental, a friendly face, one which belonged to their new band manager, David, popped around the door.

The band looked up and stopped playing, curious about the unexpected interruption.

"Pssst. Sorry to disturb, guys. Joe, you have a phone call."

"What?" Joe pulled his headphones off.

Who could possibly be calling him right now? The options were very limited. The only obvious people who might be calling were either his mother, Elyssa or Steven.

"From who? It's not Elyssa, is it?" He bit his lip anxiously.

"Oh no, don't worry. I'm making sure that she won't be able to get in contact with you anymore. She's nuts."

Joe laughed. Elyssa had become so infamous at this point amongst the fans and with everyone who was associated with Aerosmith that she'd become a staple of the band's history.

"Yeah, she is."

"Try and focus on the band though, Joe," David reminded, leading him away and handing the phone over to him. "We don't need any more distractions or problems."

"What?" Joe held the phone tightly to his chest. "What distractions and problems? Did you just call Steven a problem?" he asked in an aggravated voice, determined to defend his best friend.

"I'm not just talking about Steven- I'm talking about you, too."

Anger crossed Joe's face. "What the hell are you talking about!?"

David gave him a harsh look of irritation.

"Watch your mouth, Joe. I've dealt with many foul-mouthed rockstars, I didn't expect you to be one. Listen," the taller man took an intimidating step towards him. "we need this album out by April, and you start touring in March. In two months you're on the road playing the states, but because of you and Steven's actions, we've had major setbacks. Record and release is all you need to do. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

The two men glared at each other.

"Make it work, Perry."

Joe watched with a mix of anger and disgust as David walked away. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Sure, they didn't need any more trips to the hospital, but that was hardly anyone's fault. Besides, the band was already on the rocks. Such luck that they'd got stuck with another shitty band manager.

He sighed and shook his head, placing the phone to his ear.

"Hello? Joe speaking."

"Hey, baby." A voice whispered seductively through the phone.

Joe chuckled, his mood lightening when he realised who was on the other line.

"Hey, Steven. It's good to hear from you."

Steven sighed, dropping the seductive voice. "At last."

"So...how are you feeling?"

"Like shit, but I'm alive."

"I know the feeling. You've had it pretty rough, man."

Steven chuckled. "But I'm not dead, am I? You've had it way rougher than me, Joe."

"I don't know about that. You almost died."

"Well, I've bounced back, darling. I'm Steven Tyler, remember? The Demon of Screamin'. I'm invincible."

The guitarist giggled, pleased that Steven was in such high spirits especially after everything he'd gone through.

"Well, it's great to hear that you're in a good mood and that you're on the mend."

"Yeah! Soon I can get back to jamming with you...you and the other guys."

Joe laughed and shook his head, amused at Steven's sudden burst of enthusiasm.

"Slow down there, Tyler. You gotta take it easy for a while until you're fully recovered."

"Fuck that."

"Steven, we can't afford you getting injured again. You have to take it slow, not just for yourself but also for the band, a'ight?"

Steven groaned. "Alright, alright, I hear you. Fine, I'll take it easy. You don't need to lecture me any more."

Joe paused for a moment, debating on what he should respond with.

"You know...I got pretty worried when I...you...you know," he admitted rather shyly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... What happened?"

"I...don't want to talk about it. It's not important," Steven muttered.

"Steven c'mon, don't try and downplay it... Did someone attack you?"

There was a long silence.

"Steven?"

Joe was starting to think the line had been cut off or that he'd been hung-up on.

There was a shaky, deep breath. "Like I said, I don't wanna talk about it."

"Well, whatever happened, just know that it wasn't your fault."

Steven groaned loudly through the phone. "Yeah, yeah. Joe, don't pity me."

"So," Joe pressed his back to the wall as he spoke, leaning his head back. "do you have any news you care to share?" He twiddled with the phone cord as he waited for a response.

"Since you ask, I have both good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"The bad news."

"The bad news is that my feet have started hurting again and I can't perform for a while, doctor's orders."

Joe's heart panged with a drop of both sadness and disappointment at this. He knew how much Steven loved performing and being in the spotlight, having millions admire him. It broke his heart to hear the misery fill Steven's voice.

"Oh man, that sucks. Hopefully they'll be better in time for the tour, we gotta bring the energy to the shows."

"They should be all good to go by then. And don't talk about my feet like that, it makes me sound crippled."

"Sorry," Joe apologised, rubbing his chest and shoulders. "So, what's the good news?"

"I'm getting discharged today! Isn't that great?!"

"Oh...wow! That's...fantastic."

"Yeah...Can you, uh, pick me up from the hospital later? I'm not going out there by myself."

"Sure. No problem." The guitarist smiled to himself, the thought of seeing Steven's beautiful face making his heart race.

"Thanks. Hey, Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"I...I love you."

The three-word confession came out in an adorable stuttering mess, but it was full of sincerity. Joe could practically feel the heat of embarrassment radiating from Steven's smiling face, and he couldn't help but blush a little.

"Yeah, you too, bud."

Steven sighed loudly in frustration. "No, you don't get it."

"No, no I get you. In a friendly way, right?" Joe smiled widely again, soaking up the affection that he was being shown.

"No-"

"I'll come pick you up in a while."

Both men sighed as Joe hung up.

Steven put down the phone with a heavy heart and flopped back on his bed. He wished Joe would stop being so blind and see that he had a mega crush on him. He'd been hinting his attraction to the younger boy ever since they'd first met, but Joe had never seemed to have caught on.

He had down right confessed his love for Joe in their late teens, during their early college days, but it was a bit fuzzy in his mind since he was high at the time. It didn't really matter now since Joe had been equally as baked as him, so he probably didn't remember. I mean, what else do you say when you're sharing a dorm with a guy who has a straw sticking out his nostril?

Back in the studio, Joe leaned back against the wall and sighed, a sense of both regret and frustration washing over him. His heart had done overtime when Steven said those three amazing words to him, but he was messing with him, right?

He knew the man was a jokester and a flirt, but he also knew him as a guy who didn't like to bullshit. He didn't want to believe that Steven was giving him a false narrative and trying to lead him on, but he desperately wanted to know if their feelings were mutual.

Who knows, maybe they'd get married one day and have children together...but that was impossible right now with his ex in the picture. Besides, he had no idea if Steven could even get pregnant... I mean, Steven was a man, he had a dick, he didn't have a womb, there was no way he could bare any child...right? Right?!

And anyway, he would pick Steven over Elyssa without hesitation, though it was a sore reminder that he had promised himself that he would marry Elyssa, for the sake of his dad. For how long the marriage would last, he didn't know, but hopefully not long.

"Yo, Joe, are you coming?" Joey screamed down the hallway to him. "Let's wrap this practice session up!"

"What? Yeah, yeah, I'll be there in a moment."

"Alright. Well, hurry up."

~

Steven nervously sat in the waiting room, playing with his hands as he waited for Joe to collect him, the thoughts of the traumatic events he'd suffered through still fresh in his mind.

He really didn't want to be alone right now. What if something else happened to him? What if those guys came back for him? He was all over the news, so he wouldn't be surprised if they did.

He nibbled and sucked at his wrist, trying to distract himself. His teeth grated along his skin and the sucking motion left red marks, close to turning into bruises. Alright, he needed to calm it. Those thoughts were just his anxiety talking. No one was coming to hurt him. Besides, he had Joe to keep him safe.

Joe could be pretty intimidating when he wanted to be, especially when he became defensive or angry, but everyone in the know knew that Joe was secretly a teddy bear at heart who wouldn't harm a fly.

Talking of Joe, when would he get here? He wanted to get his ass out of this place as soon as possible. After three weeks in bed being nursed, he was looking forward to doing things by himself again and enjoy the small luxuries. Like showering with his own soap, in his own bathroom, without having someone wash him.

Steven bounced his legs and rubbed his hands up and down his thighs as the minutes continued to slowly pass by.

Ugh. When- his eyes immediately lit up when he saw Joe's figure enter through the double doors. As though something had sparked within him, Steven immediately ran over to the guitarist and threw his arms around him, embracing him in a massive hug.

Joe jumped a little at the unexpected affection, only awkwardly petting Steven’s head in return.

“Man, I didn’t think you were the hugging type, Steven," Joe teased, squeezing the other man tightly in his arms.

"Joe, shut up," Steven snapped playfully, wiggling out of his friend's embrace and punching his arm. "I've always been the hugging type."

"I know, I know. Man, I usually don't say this kinda stuff, but," the rockstar nervously cleared his throat. "I really missed you."

Steven couldn't stop the stupid smile that was now slapped across his face. Joe missed him? Joe mother-fucking Perry missed him?! Blood rushed to his face. He could feel a warm, tingling sensation go up his spine.

“Hey, you alright there, Steve? You’ve gone very red in the face.” Joe looked at him with a look of pure concern. "Do you need to sit down?"

"What?" He stood up straight and looked Joe dead in the eyes. "No, no. I'm fine." He gave a fake, bright smile.

"Alright then... I'll take your word for it." There was some doubt in Joe's mind, but he didn't want to press on. "Now c'mon, let's get out of here."

Steven hesitated and stepped away, paling as the panic came back.

"Hey, don't be scared. I'm right here with you, okay? Nothing bad is gonna happen, yeah?"

"I…I know, Joe, I know."

As they walked out of the hospital, Steven found himself leaning into Joe's side, wanting to cling to him for safety and comfort. He was one of the only people he could truly count on and he needed him right now. Joe looked at him with a confused expression, but he wrapped his arm around him in a comforting way.

The attempts to soothe the singer didn't go unappreciated as Steven clung to Joe, ignoring the looks they were given.

"A'ght, get in the car." Joe smiled and opened the car door and gestured for Steven to climb into the front passenger seat.

"Thanks."

Steven smiled warmly at the kindness and began getting in the car, when a hand suddenly landed on his ass. He jumped and quickly turned around, his eyes wide with shock.

"Joe, what the hell?!" he shouted, his heart pounding in his ears.

"S- sorry… I couldn't help it." Joe smiled sheepishly, an embarrassed look on his face. "I mean," he cleared his throat loudly. "how can I not slap your ass when it looks that good?"

Steven stared quietly at his best friend, not sure how to respond. Joe had never acted this way towards him nor showed any sort of sign that he was interested in him, not that he had ever noticed, so what had changed?

"Yeah, well…" He was struggling to find the right words. "just don't do that again…it's…weird."

"A'ight, I won't do it again…I'm sorry."

Steven nodded meekly, acknowledging Joe's apology. “Apology accepted…”

Joe gave an uncomfortable smile and looked away, staring awkwardly at a crumpled flyer stuck to a wall. “Let’s just go…"