The Ox Leapt Over the Moon V

"Happy birthday to you! Happy Birthday to Who? Happy birthday dear band! Happy birthday to you! And many more!" Everyone sang out around the circular cake. Everyone had stupid party hats strapped to their heads and there was confetti everywhere (which was made by ripping up paper and a few Styrofoam cups). The cake was frosted in the shape and colors of their logo with black icing spelling out "The Who" in the middle, including the arrow.

Each of the Who had their own special candle; Keith's was in the shape of a snare drum, John's was a bass guitar; Pete's was a smashed guitar (the candle wick in between the cracked acoustic wood); and Roger's was a microphone. After the singing stopped, they all blew out the candles.

Only the four of them clapped since it was just them, locked in the room due to the doorknob being taken off by a falling sound microphone. They've been trapped in that little room for hours now, and the only thing they found in the fridge was that cute little cake. Keith felt that they were in dire need of a party.

"Alright, time to exchange gifts!" Keith exclaimed, as everyone grabbed a piece of cake.

"But, Keith, we don't have any gif—"

"Shh, shh, shh! Now, I had to get a gift for Roger, and you had to get one for Pete! Pete got one for me and Roger got one for you!" Keith was now sounding delusional. Pete laughed, thinking they should play along. John nodded, humoring him. "Now, Pete, I want my gift!"

"Your gift?" Pete tried to think, eating his piece of cake. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, nodding. "Your gift! Right, right! I got you… sparklers and fire crackers!"

"Oh, yea!" Keith clapped his hands together smiling happily. John couldn't help laughing at him. They were all sitting in chairs around a very small table. By this time, they'd all lost their minds just sitting in what seemed to be a storage closet for close to six hours now. The storage people were looking for them and getting frustrated, but they decided to stop hollering for help since no one was coming anyway. "Now, Roger it's your turn!"

"But I want my gift!" Roger complained with a grin smack dab on his face, folding his arms with amusement. Keith rolled his eyes.

"Oh, typical Duchess… so needy!" Keith grumbled. John and Pete laughed. Roger pretended to act surprised, not laughing but smiling a bunch.

"Needy! I'm not needy!" he argued back playfully. He turned to Pete, who was contributing to the laughter in their Who circle. "Pete, I'm not needy, right? Tell them I'm not needy!"

"Sure… not needy… not believing that!" Keith folded his arm, smirking at Roger. He pushed closer to John, just to whisper loudly what was on his mind. "I can hear his neediness when he and Pete share a room!"

They started roaring, as Roger's face turned a deep shade of pink. He slammed his hands on the table, as Pete covered his mouth so Mr. Daltrey didn't see the pleased look on his face with Keith right now. "Oh, so many demands, Pete! I don't see how you could put up with it!"

"Stop it! I don't do that!" Roger whined. Pete was on the verge of crying he was laughing so much. Daltrey grabbed Townshend's arm in worry. "Tell them Pete! I don't!"

"Keep your hands out of my hair! And keep your tie on while we're doing it!" Keith imitated Roger's voice. Roger's face became even more rosy. Pete fell out of his chair, as Entwistle chuckled straight toward Daltrey. Roger now felt like a target. He blushed.

"I don't sound like that!" Roger peeped. "If anyone has demands, it's Pete!"

"Me?" Pete took a break from giggling while getting back into his chair, just so he could fight with Roger.

"Yes, you! Did you know he makes me sing while we make love?!" the singer belted out. Townshend's face matched an apple's skin as Keith started clapping and cackling himself. Ox wiped some tears from his eyes.

"Don't tell them that!" Pete jumped on Roger, just to put his giant guitar-playing hand over his mouth. It was too late though; now Entwistle and Moon knew why Roger was such a good singer. Roger's grin was big beneath his hand. Daltrey's fingers pried Townshend's hand away to his face and he folded his arms, not wanting to discuss their bedroom rules anymore. Pete rested his elbow on Roger's shoulder and his hand winded up on his thigh. "I won't make you do it anymore."

"I don't wanna talk about this," Roger's beam was still obviously plastered on his face. Pete's hand started to rub his thigh.

"Don't be mad," Pete smirked at Roger, knowing he wasn't though. Keith decided to jump back in and poke fun again.

"Yeah, Duchess, don't be mad!" Keith's hands flew to his hips. "Now, make up and kiss! Make up and kiss!"

Roger's embarrassed smile was replaced by an "I forgive you" beam. Pete beamed at him, lovingly, not meaning any harm. Roger quickly looked to Keith, who was freaking out due to too much sugar and boredom (two things that make him very hyper) and John, who was implying with his stare that he wanted them to kiss.

Roger pecked Pete's lips quickly. The two other boys cheered happily for them; Keith clapping like a moron and hollering like a buffoon, and John showed off his usual sleepy grin. The singer's face flushed once again, as he brushed some hair out of his face and sat up straight. He wanted to move past this little moment.

"Can I have my present now, please?" he was polite to Moon. Keith gave him a surprised look.

"Oh, sudden change of heart? You're going to be nice, Duchess?"

"Just give me my damn present!" Roger was blissfully frustrated. Keith smiled, knowing he should just give Roger his fake present already. The drummer threw his hands up in the air excitedly.

"I got you a whole 3 months worth of hair care products, plus a new hair dryer!" Keith announced. Pete and John clapped quietly and politely like the rich people they sometimes made fun of. Roger couldn't help his happiness in this dull and dreary walk-in closet.

"Oh, how lovely!" he exclaimed, very grateful for the false souvenirs. "But… I already have a blow dryer at home…"

"Not anymore, you don't…" Moon muttered under his breath. An immediate death glare came from the beautiful eyes of Roger Daltrey. The guitarist and the bassist scrambled into a panic; they didn't want any fists flying in this tiny space. Pete's hands gripped Roger's shoulders as John changed the subject.

"Pete what did you get?" John's voice was a little high pitched which was different from usual. Pete cleared his throat.

"Oh, yes, what did you get me John?" Their voices were unusually awkward for the moment. Once Pete felt Roger's tension decrease with the dropping of his shoulders, he knew it was okay to be normal again. In the meantime, John had to think up something quick.

"Yeah, I got you a new guitar!" John grinned gladly at the thought. Roger rolled his eyes and his smile returned above his chin.

"Oh, real original!" Roger's sarcasm was a little hurtful to John; unoriginal his ass…

"Don't listen to him! I'd love a new guitar, John!" Pete was grateful; Roger dipped his head down to not only stare at his shirt, but to silently chuckle to himself. "Now what did you get him, Roger?"

"Oh, just the coolest present ever," Roger was casual about his thoughts, staring at his fingernails with a smirk. They all looked intrigued by what Daltrey had in mind. "I got Boris a girlfriend. Her name is Darla."

"Sweet!" John's smile was now pretty cheeky. "I was beginning to feel that Boris was getting kind of lonely."

"Oh, and there we go again!" Keith rolled his eyes, as John turned to him. Today Keith was just full of hassle, now wasn't he? "Boris this, and Boris that… All you talk about is Boris! And Roger, what the fuck kind of name is Darla?"

"I like the name Darla," Pete finally stood up for Roger. Roger threw his arms around Townshend and rested his blonde head on his shoulder. Pete knew he just scored with Duchess. "What's gotten into you today, Keith?"

Keith hesitated before saying anything. This made Entwistle and Townshend worry. Roger could care less about Keith; he didn't really give two shits if he was distressed; he, himself, was still upset that Keith most likely blew up his blow dryer.

"Well, we're all locked in a closet…" Keith started.

"The irony…" John mumbled under his breath, laughing to himself.

"And no one has found us yet… I'm starting to worry," Keith was honest. The room wasn't roaring with laughter anymore. It was silent. If Keith was worried, that meant that maybe no one was going to find them locked in this door handle-less room. Everyone was starting to get the vibe that they were going to be trapped there… forever.

"Oh, come on guys! They'll find us! I'm sure Kit is looking for us right now!" Pete was trying to be positive. Everyone shrugged, not feeling too good about that, though Kit was very capable of finding the band he managed; if he could find Keith everyday, he'd be sure to find all of them in that storage closet.

Their silence went on in that dimly lit scope. The festivity was on pause for now, everyone realizing, this wasn't much to party about. Keith had killed the mood. Two more hours passed while they were wedged in there, and Roger had fallen sleep on Pete. The guitarist was close to snoozing too and the next time he closed his eyes, he was also out cold. Now it was just Keith and John sitting here.

"I have a feeling that the light bulb will go out soon," John sighed irritated that Kit hadn't found them yet. He detached the stupid, colorful party hat from his head and placed it on the floor; Ox folded his arms too. Keith rested his head on John's shoulder, staring at Pete and Roger whose heads were lying on one another's. Keith sighed, which got John to smirk a bit. "Will you just please admit that you're jealous of Roger?"

"What? Jealous of Roger?" Keith's face scrunched up at such an ugly idea. "Please…"

"Come on. Who are you fooling?" John's voice was hushed to keep the others slumbering. Keith sighed and decided to give in, since they were going to die in a few hours (in his mind).

"Fine, I'm jealous of Roger… happy?"

"Why?"

"God, with the questions…" Keith rolled his eyes, mumbling just as annoyed by being immovable here with Ox. The bassist chuckled at him. "I guess I'm jealous of what they have…"

"Well," John put his arm around the drummer and pulled him closer to him. "I know I'm not much for public affection and I'm sorry for that, but you've got me. And I've got you. We can't have what they have because we're us."

"God, you always know what to say…" Moon murmured sadly. "Don't be sorry, I'm just… you know how I am… pressuring and you know…"

He shook his head somberly, staring at the table. John kissed Keith's forehead to make him feel better because he was very doubtful of things right now. Keith sighed again, feeling frustrated; a feeling he can usually avoid. "I am jealous… and I don't even need to be…"

John smiled kindly to those words. Keith grinned sleepily. He felt he would be the next to fall. John held him in reality before he went off into dreams though. "Thanks, John…"

"For what?"

"For letting me make fun of your and letting me be obnoxious… for letting me be me," Keith looked up at him once, cutting his speech short. His head gently fell back to the nook of John's shoulder. Entwistle chuckled tiredly again.

"You're thanking me for loving you?" he thought the concept was silly. Keith shrugged, smiling wide and feeling safe with John. John kept his eyes on the drummer while Keith closed his.

"Pretty much."