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NOTE: Told from Jonny's POV
It was all a veritable blur after the concert was over. Chris thanked the audience, smiled brilliantly and waved, then lifted his guitar from his shoulders and walked offstage. Will stood, stretched a bit, and jogged after him. Guy laid his guitar down, rocked his mike a little, and then turned to go backstage. I was frozen for a moment, watching the crowd of people, but then I dropped my own guitar – gently, of course – and followed the three of them, knock-kneed.
Behind the stage was like a blessing. Chris slumped against a wall and yawned, and Guy punched his shoulder.
“Hey! Good work, mate!” He grinned.
Chris smiled weakly back. Will trapped him in a headlock and rubbed his head vigorously, but Chris was too exhausted to even yelp and stomp on Will’s foot like he usually did. Then came my turn. I blinked helplessly, trying to think of a buddy-buddy gesture to make without seeming… you know… too buddy-buddy. Without letting on that I was thinking about tonight, because I’m a perverted loser who preys on his best friend.
Chris’s bright blue eyes fixed on me – not expectantly, just tiredly. His smile perked a little, and I returned it as best as I could.
“Ready to go home, boys?” Guy called.
“We’re not going anywhere but some shite hotel, Mr. Berryman,” Will retorted.
“So? We can make it cozy.”
“Don’t be such a poofter.” Will threw a pillow at him, and Guy clumsily caught it and hugged it to his chest.
“I’m not a poof! What are you talking about?” he asked indignantly, in his most feminine voice.
“Come on,” I called in my best “rounding up the sheep” voice. “Chris is wiped, and so am I. Let’s get going, alright?”
Guy and Will both made faces at me, but I narrowed my eyes menacingly. Nobody was going to get in my way right now. I was a man on a mission, goddammit.
“Yeah, let’s go.” Guy gave a small yawn. “I need a bloody shower. Right now.”
Will shrugged and sniffed his armpit. “I don’t know about you guys, but I smell like a freshly-watered flower.”
Chris laughed. “Somehow I doubt that!”
“Look! Have a smell!” Will snickered and held up his arm. Guy staggered backwards, a nauseated look on his face.
“Put your arm down right this instant, William Champion! I think I’m going to die!”
Chris laughed again, but I could tell he was tired. His shoulders slumped and his smile didn’t quite reach his gorgeous eyes. When we finally made it into the car, he fell asleep while Will and Guy joked, and his thigh rested against mine. I couldn’t keep the tiny smile off my face.
- - - -
I shook Chris’s shoulder as the car rolled to a stop. He moaned hoarsely, and turned his sleepy blue eyes to me. I smiled at him.
“Come on, man. Get your bag from the boot.” I touched his cheek lightly with my thumb, then pulled my hand away, feeling foolish. He didn’t seem to notice as he maneuvered his lanky frame from the small car. He pulled his hang onto his shoulder clumsily and stumbled after Guy and Will, his eyes still half-closed. I grinned and slammed the boot shut, then caught up to him and slung an arm around his shoulder.
He leaned against me slightly, smiling. And then Guy was tossing the key to our room – OUR room – at me, and I fumbled, unlocking the door. Chris smirked.
“Need some help?”
“No, no… I got it… I was never very good at unlocking doors.”
It finally opened, swinging inward and knocking lightly against the wall. The room was pitch-dark, and Chris held out his hands in front of him cautiously as he walked in. “It smells like cheap perfume,” he remarked, laughing. “Or a ladies’ room!”
“Pleasant!” I gave him a little shove, and slid my hand around on the wall for the light switch. When I finally found it, the overhead light buzzed and hissed as it flickered on. I grimaced. “It’s certainly no five star hotel.”
“Well, we’re not going to be doing much,” Chris said practically, dropping his bag on the bed. It squeaked loudly. “Just sleeping.”
I eyed him for any signs of sarcasm or nervousness, but he was totally at ease. Of course; just like always. It was hard to tell when Chris was wearing his mask of good humor and when he was truly content.
“Right. Well, ah…” I blinked. There was a shelf jutting out from the bottom of the bed. A pull-out. I winced. Did I want to mention it and lose the opportunity of a night next to him, or be the gentleman and offer to sleep on it?
Chris didn’t seem to notice it. Though I felt all the more evil and perverted for it, I was relieved.
I yanked back the starched covers and kicked off my sneakers, and Chris hopped onto the bed and rolled onto his back next to me.
“So, are you tired?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I wiggled down under the covers and Chris grinned.
“Someone’s got to shut off the light,” he told me.
“Yep.” I made myself busy getting comfortable.
“I’m not gonna do it.” He yanked the covers over on his side.
“Someone’s got to.” I yanked back.
“Yeah, but not me!” He took a handful of the blankets on my side and tugged insistently, like a child.
“Me neither,” I laughed, kicking his leg.
“We can’t very well sleep with the light on, Jonny,” he whined.
“You look tired enough to sleep just about anywhere.”
“So? Get up. Go turn it off.”
“I don’t wanna walk through the dark.”
“Don’t be such a baby!”
“I’M not the baby here, you’re the one that won’t get up and turn off the light!”
“No, that’s you!” He pulled the covers as hard as he could. I yelped and grabbed on, and was roughly yanked over to his side. I drew in a breath so sharp it hurt as my lips brushed his cheek and then suddenly I went tumbling off the bed, him tangled up with me. I landed painfully on my back, and Chris landed on top. Not an altogether undesirable thing, but painful as hell.
I wheezed for breath, my vision swimming. The back of my head was tingling.
“Holy…” Chris cussed colorfully a moment, regaining his balance. “Jesus, Jon, I’m really sorry… Are you all right?” He cupped my cheek with his broad hand and shook me a bit.
I smiled, laughing breathlessly. “You don’t know your own strength, apparently.”
He grinned, relieved that I was all right. “Guess not.” He flexed a skinny arm.
“Look… ah…” I poked him in the stomach and he giggled. “Are we gonna sleep or what?”
He heaved himself off and clambered back on the bed, then scooted into the far corner to leave room for me. I carefully lay down, my back aching, and turned so I was facing him. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes slowly drifted closed, and I waited until his chest was rising and falling evenly and he had stopped moving before reaching out and slipping my arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. His cheek – the cheek my lips had brushed, I remembered – was lying against my chest. I wondered if he heard my heartbeat in his dreams. Was he dreaming about me? Did he even think about me when he was awake?
I kissed the top of his spiky head, then shivered. When had I become so bold?
…When had I become so in love?