We Are Bulletproof

Oh. That wasn't creepy or anything.

His neighbor was spying on him. Hanale waded to shore clutching a giant rainbow over-sized inner tube, splashing water noisily with each step. He'd been testing it out before Kylar arrived, in case it sprang an unexpected leak or something. (Definitely, definitely not because he couldn't wait to use it. No.)

A movement in the periphery of his vision caught his attention and he noticed the dark-haired young man who moved in several weeks ago suddenly disappear inside. But earlier he definitely had been leaning over the railing of his upper balcony, looking at Hanale splashing around. This wasn't the first time, either. Once or twice while lounging on the wide front porch, Hanale saw him peeking out. He even waved once but the guy vanished like smoke.

Too bad. He was pretty cute. Probably painfully shy since Hanale had never seen him actually step foot off of his property. Rumor had it he was Spanish-exotic. But! Since he was so horribly shy and Hanale was expecting a special guest, he was out of the picture. Smiling to himself and shaking his head, he dragged the inner tube up onto firm ground so that it wouldn't float off into the lake and headed inside to dry off and change before Kylar arrived.

He went about making himself presentable with low-simmering excitement bubbling inside. It'd been a while since he'd dated and those first-date fluttering butterflies were all over. Hopefully Kylar was as cute and funny and charming as he was over the phone. Hard to tell with people; some were painfully boring over the phone but magnetic in person. Others, the opposite. Rare to find someone interesting in both worlds.

Splashing a conservative amount of cologne on, Hanale examined himself in the full-length bathroom mirror. Hm. Good. Hair was crisp and well-maintained, nails not filthy (important!) and his blue button-up had tiny red polka-dots on it for interest, but not to be flashy. Dark slim-cut jeans and casual Italian loafers completed the look—douchebag lakefront property-owning party boy.

Nah! His friends joked about that but really he wasn't an asshole. He hoped. His parties never got the police called down! Hanale was polite to the neighbors! He had to be good—he was tied to a literal angel! Ah... he was nervous now, and justifying his appearance. Hanale turned on his heels as he heard a car pull up and forced himself to saunter outside, where he waved slowly but grinned in an obviously pleased way to the car rolling up the driveway.

Oh god.

As he pulled up to the lake house, all Kylar could think was that he was going to be so out of his depth. He'd grown up with a middle-class family of shifters. A father that handed his truck down to him--and the truck felt like it didn't belong here. It was an older model and a practical one, nothing cool or fancy. (But at least it was a four-wheel drive. And at least it was clean and maintained--he would have died a little inside if he showed up in one of the junkers some of the people in Hazleton rode around in.)

Still, this was a guy who had a weekend lake house. This was a guy who worked in realty. He had to be made of money. He was made of money. Look at him! Waving, casually handsome, looking just like a rich dude.

Now Kylar wondered if he looked okay in his fitted black tank top, artfully holey jeans, and red converse sneakers. Because he suddenly felt like he was way too casual, which was stupid because Hanale was totally casual, too. Just... a different kind of casual. Like effortlessly rich dude casual. No way. Kylar wasn't letting it get to him. Hanale wasn't a douchebag. He cared about the same things that Kylar did.

"Hey!" Kylar waved back as he jumped out of the truck and jogged around to the passenger's side. "Guess who can't wait to get out of his cage?"

He pulled the grey cat carrier out of the seat and held it up proudly. A pair of black paws held onto the bars of the cage. From this vantage point, he looked like any normal raccoon, but that was because his missing leg was a back leg, caught in a hunter's trap and snapped too badly to save it. Luckily, they saved his life.

Uh oh. Kylar was cute. And tall. Cute and tall, a deadly combination. Hanale briefly noted that the truck he came in was practical and clean, if not the latest model, before Kylar slipped out and the stars in Hanale's eyes blinded him to everything but the man. Too cute. The way he was dressed was country-casual but damn if he didn't pull it off perfectly. Kylar wasn't stuck up or trying to be slick and posh and that was very refreshing and attractive.

He half-jogged down towards the truck, not wanting to be that guy who stood at the door watching everything unfold, like he wasn't part of the moment. Besides, Kylar had to have luggage with him for the weekend trip and his hands were full at the moment with Bandit's cage.

"It's Bandit!" Grinning, he wiggled his fingers at the furry raccoon inside. Two sets of front paws... so he was missing a back leg. It was really kind of sad how trappers and hunters treated these poor little things! "How cute!" Hanale reached out to give him an awkward one-armed hug—him and the cage. "And Bandit's adorable too!"

Bandit trilled curiously at Hanale and Kylar could feel him moving around in the cage, probably trying to press closer to the bars in a bid to get Hanale's attention. Oh! Hey, a hug! Now he wished he had waited to bring Bandit's cage out since it made it impossible to give Hanale a proper hug. Instead, he hugged him back with one arm, too. Damn it... dummy.

"Thanks! You too." He laughed at how that sounded. "You're cute too. Um, hey!" He held the cage out to Hanale. "Do you mind taking him? So I can grab my suitcase?"

Bandit was infinitely more fun than Kylar's luggage, after all, and it would be good for Bandit to familiarize himself with Hanale's scent. (Which was nice--Kylar caught a whiff of his cologne when they hugged.)

Oops! Clumsy first hug! This was getting off to a funky start but that was okay! Hanale laughed, feeling if possible more nervous now that he got a look at Kylar up close. Why was it always so hard to be suave around someone attractive? Even though he knew that he was attractive himself, being around a good-looking guy still made him feel jittery inside.

"Ah—well thank you! I—yeah. Sure!" He readily accepted the cage. "Oomph! He's heavier than he looks!" That was a well-fed raccoon right there! But as soon as he had it, a damp black nose poked out and started sniffing around. Hanale couldn't help but laugh again as the cage wobbled and wiggled unsteadily in his arms. "Friendly little guy isn't he?"

When Kylar had gotten his things, he started walking back up the driveway into the house. "I prepped a room for you facing the lake. Hopefully you like the view. Oh and guess who got us that giant inner tube!"

"Yep, both!" Heavy and friendly. Okay, he wasn't a fat raccoon but he liked his food and he was heavier than one might assume by just looking. One had to be careful with that missing leg--too much weight on it and it would really hurt the poor thing. But if Bandit had his way, he'd eat everything he could get his little paws on!

He still couldn't believe his luck as he followed Hanale to the beautiful lake house. It was the kind of place Kylar only ever saw in magazines and online--the kind of place his family longed for but didn't have the time or money for.

"Uhh how could I not like any view in this place?" No sugarcoating it--he was appropriately impressed. "And I'm gonna say... the only person here? Unless you're not telling me something!"

"For some reason I thought he'd weigh as much as a cat..." But obviously raccoons were larger and therefore, heavier. Hanale didn't know; he was a total novice where it came to pets and animals. There wasn't much time or room in his life for something that needed constant attention. Dogs needed to be walked every day; cats had litters that had to be scooped all the time. Too much work for someone who was out all day!

With his back turned to Kylar as he led the way, Hanale grinned. Very good—he earned points for selecting the right room. It was close to his own, too, so that they didn't have to go far to find one another. Ahem. If it came to that. Which now that he'd seen Kylar... he hoped it did, eventually.

"Excellent guess. It's the one with the super clean face." He grinned over his shoulder. "Which I washed before you got here, by the way." Winking, he laughed and then turned back to gently nudge the door open with his knee. Inside facing the door was a staircase leading upstairs, while a short hallway opened up to a tall-ceilinged living room.

"The bedrooms are all upstairs. This way, I'll give you a tour of the place once you put your things down. If I slip into realtor mode at any time, by the way, feel free to stop me."

"I'm still testing that!" Kylar declared, looking over at Hanale critically, as if he could somehow find a speck of dirt on his face. But damn... Hanale was good looking. Like... Will never got it right ever. How the hell did he do it this time? He supposed even a broken clock was right twice a day, as they said.

"And I think you're already in realtor mode," he teased. A tour, though. He half wanted to see every inch of the place and half wanted to make good on his promise to test Hanale's... uh, cleanliness.

Kylar couldn't stop looking at everything but he also kept looking at Hanale. He wasn't very secretive about it, either. Should he be? There wasn't really a point, he thought, in hiding his interest. Why else would he even be here, if he wasn't slightly interested?

Hanale was right about the room, though. As soon as Kylar saw it, his eyes widened and he let out a low whistle.

"If this is where you put guests, your room must be really nice," he said, as he set his luggage down.

Oh, it was clean. Super clean. He'd obsessively checked it because he couldn't be found wanting, even by a stranger. There were standards to uphold around here. Hanale laughed and nodded resignedly—he was in realtor mode. Work mode was the default mode, unfortunately, which was why Will set him up but... damn. Will really struck gold this time. Nineteenth time was the charm, as they say.

The first thing he did was carefully set Bandit's cage down onto the bed, where even if his clever paws got the latch undone, he wouldn't fall and hurt himself. Then he straightened and spread his palms as he swept his arms across the room, as though showing it off. "I'm glad you like it!"

The room was tastefully furnished and decorated in a nautical theme—nothing obnoxious, of course. Pale blues, gentle creams and whites, light and airy. Little seashell decorations and tasteful pictures dotted the room and there was a glass vase of calla lilies on one of the dressers.

"My room, as luck would have it, is two doors down from yours." He smiled as he reached for Kylar's hand, now that they weren't occupied by cages or luggage. Hanale gently tugged him closer—nothing insistent or overly pushy. Just a little tug. "And I never lock my door, so you can visit me any time."

It was gorgeous. And he was pretty sure he never wanted Hanale to see where he lived. Like... ever. While he didn't live in squalor, he definitely didn't have this kind of aesthetic taste. No, no. He had the taste, he didn't have the means to make the taste appear. His place was what one would expect of a man his age: all posters and clutter and animal paraphernalia. The last part because of his work and education. And lineage.

Kylar smiled as he was gently tugged closer. His room was so close? And he didn't lock the door?

"That sounds like an invitation..."

"It's... partly an invitation."

He stepped into Kylar, since the tug of his hand met no resistance. Honestly it was hard not to slip his hands up to that handsome face and pull him down for a kiss right now. There was some kind of crazy attraction that he had no explanation for and it was mildly concerning but also... exhilarating.

"But also, it's a promise." Briefly he lowered his gaze to the space between them. "I won't come into your room unless you want me to. So you can trust me."

This was his home; he had the luxury of owning it, of knowing every room, every nook and cranny. But for Kylar it was a strange space. He came here in good faith, all by himself, for two days. It was far more important for him to feel safe and in control of his own space, and this way there could be no issues later.

"A gentleman," Kylar said softly, his gaze on Hanale, even when he looked downward. So he took it to heart, what Kylar said. Hopefully, he would have said the same even if Kylar hadn't. It was nice to know, though. That Hanale cared. That he wasn't going to creep on him like some of those questionable past guys. He wondered if they'd ever dated any of the same guys, since they had Will in common and all. If so, Hanale had to know what it was like.

"I trust you," he said, "or I wouldn't be here."

Nervous as he was on the drive over, he wasn't afraid. Hanale hadn't struck him as a creeper. Of course, Kylar had been wrong more than once in the past but! He liked to think he learned from those times. Besides, would a creep be so madly gentle and sweet? A gentleman, indeed.

Kylar touched Hanale's face, clean as he claimed it to be. Clean and fresh. He had nice skin. Nice tone. Nice... texture. They were so close now that they could have kissed if he just leaned in a little more.

"Not squeaking though," he teased. "I thought you said you were squeaky clean, mister."

A gentleman. Hanale couldn't help but smile at that, looking up again once Kylar spoke of trust. That was important. Trust. Even between friends, there had to be trust. For strangers who had never met, staying in the same house for the weekend, it was even more important. It was just who he was and who he was raised to be—trustworthy. Good. He wasn't always this way, though. That part of his past had long remained untouched and hopefully it would stay buried.

The squeaky clean face though, that brought out a soft laugh. Nice way to break the ice, just a simple touch. Like their hands together, Kylar's touch felt nice. Warm. Soft. "Ah..." He cleared his throat a touch dramatically. "Squeak!"

So not an actual squeak—that would be slightly alarming—but he was making good on his bold claims! He reached up to lightly tap the tip of Kylar's chin. "Told you." Then, laughing, he stepped back and tugged Kylar out of the room by the hand. "Come on, let's get this weekend underway! House tour, then we make some drinks and go out onto the lake. There's going to be a beautiful sunset, we shouldn't miss it!"

He pointed out his own bedroom as they approached—inside it was decorated in a more austere color scheme, navy and gray but with a pop of lilac here and there. The open window let in a soft breeze which stirred sheer white drapes, and outside...

"Oh... that's my neighbor!" The guy was timidly tip-toeing towards the inner tube that he'd left out. It didn't look like he was stealing it, though, just... looking at it. Hanale let out a burst of laughter as he drew Kylar over to peek down at his strange, shy neighbor. "You think he's going to take it?"

A laugh escaped, despite himself. It was such a silly thing to laugh at but he couldn't help it. It was... cute. And he didn't expect it. And so was Hanale. Unexpected. This whole thing felt like some kind of strange fever dream, too good to be true. Yet here he was, standing there with Hanale in his beautiful lake house.

That was not his intention in testing the squeaky cleanliness of Hanale but... He thought it might be a bit too soon to jump onto that train. They had just met and it was true, what Kylar said. It took a little time for him to warm up. Maybe later, though. Once they settled in and relaxed and everything was more about the two of them and less about the newness of the place and the meeting and... all that.

Kylar happily took the tour and when they spied the neighbor edging up to the hilariously kitsch inner tube, Kylar had to press a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing aloud and alerting him to their presence.

"What's he even doing there? Is he going to get in it?" Kylar pressed his hand to his mouth again and turned away, doing his best not to burst into peals of laughter. It was just too funny, that serious looking man tiptoeing up to a gaudy, rainbow inner tube.

Cris told himself he was only there to get a look at the giant thing. It was gaudy and eye-catching and anyone within six miles of the place could see it, with its rainbow arching into the air and the massive white, round inner tube supporting it big enough for maybe four or five people. Where did his neighbor get it? Who sold it? Cris wanted one for himself.

Not that he could afford a thing like that, with his father's finances in a mess and his mother suddenly—and conveniently—nowhere to be found.

But it didn't hurt to look. Since his neighbor was inside with the man who came to visit him, Cris felt emboldened to sneak up to it. He half-smiled as he touched the side of the inner tube, imagining floating out onto the lake in it. Then another face popped into that mental image, a familiar face who was about to arrive... The smile vanished and he gave himself a mental slap.

"Shit." As he looked up he noticed his handsome gay neighbor peeking from one of the windows and he was laughing and looking right at Cris! Then he pulled another man—his... special friend perhaps—into view too, and that man also looked amused. His neighbor waved and popped his head out of the window.

"Hello! How's it going?"

Cris could have died. He smiled—a strained smile—and waved a little. "Hola—hi!" Shit. They didn't speak Spanish, no doubt. And his English was deplorable at best.

"What's your name? I'm Hanale and this is Kylar! Nice to meet you!"

"I'm Cris!" Another strained smile. "Nice to meet you!" Yelling across the yard was kind of embarrassing but he wasn't getting close to the house! Not for the first time, he wished Jen was here. She would've gotten him on that inner tube faster than he could blink...

"Do you wanna go swimming with us?!" Kylar shouted back to the guy--Cris. He was a stunning looking guy for somebody so shy. He looked like the kind of dude who starred on magazine covers with those eyes and that posture and perfectly styled hair. Seriously, he was almost too good-looking to be real.

Kylar glanced at Hanale, hoping he wasn't out of bounds. It just seemed like the guy was... he didn't know. Maybe looking for a friend. Was he all alone over there at his place? That seemed impossible, but here he was, stealing looks at that amazing inner tube.

On the one hand, it didn't give Kylar time alone with Hanale but... he was certain they'd have time for that. Hopefully. Oh shit. He hoped he didn't just fuck that all up by inviting the new guy to hang out with them. But no, no. He and Hanale had time enough. If things were meant to be, they were going to have more time together beyond this one weekend.

"That's a great idea! Come on up, Cris, we're having drinks and then going out on the lake later!" Hanale squeezed Kylar's hand since he'd gone a little awkward on him for inviting the new guy. Who... wow. Yeah. Hanale thought he was handsome from afar but up close, he was... quite the looker.

Not as cute as Kylar though! There was something about Kylar that pure good looks couldn't overshadow. And besides, Hanale wasn't so shallow that he'd let one handsome face lure him away from what he felt was a good thing. It was a very good thing that they were beginning to build here, and if he wasn't wrong about it, Kylar might be coming around to the lake house for quite some time.

"Oh I—" Cris seemed indecisive and definitely nervous. Ah, the shy type. "I'm expecting a friend," he said at last, in that thick European accent that—okay it was kind of attractive. For some reason accents always were...

"Bring your friend! Or let him come join us later!" Hey, the more the merrier right? He turned to Kylar while Cris thought about it some more. "That's okay right? You don't mind? We'll still have most of the night to ourselves. I'm not letting the neighbors take away all of our time together!"

"Of course it is," he said back. Kylar wasn't necessarily a jealous person. He saw that the guy was ridiculously good-looking, of course. But if Hanale ended up being more attracted to him... Who was he to be an asshole and stand in their way? Personally, Kylar was still more drawn to Hanale but that was because they had spoken together a lot more and his heart was already starting to beat for him.

"I asked him if he wanted to swim with us." Kylar grinned. "And I'm okay with that. He looks lonely, right? Maybe he could use some guy time with us guys."

He tugged on Hanale's hand. "C'mon, let's celebrate new friends~!"

"Yeah he's been over there by himself for the longest time. I never see anyone going into his place so I think he lives by himself." Could Kylar be more... adorable? So considerate! Of someone he'd never met before! That said a lot about his character, honestly, and Hanale was glad that he didn't turn out to be a selfish or pouting asshole.

"We'll wait for you in the kitchen, it's straight on through from the front door! It's unlocked, so come right in!" He turned to shout to Cris, who was texting somebody it looked like. Cris nodded and said thanks, and then Hanale turned away from the window. "Come on. Let's get our drink on! I'm parched!"

Still leading Kylar by the hand, he descended the stairs and made his way into the brightly lit kitchen. There was a fully-stocked bar there which Hanale slid around back of, and leaned against the countertop with admittedly a bit of a goofy smile, eyes on Kylar. He could hardly take his eyes off of him.

"What'll the handsome customer have then?"

Kylar couldn't imagine being alone for a long time; he loved being around people. People were his jam. He wasn't like, clingy and needy about it but he absolutely adored people. It was probably from growing up in his big family and extended family and all the people around him that might as well have been family, too. Everybody was family or friend to Kylar.

And so it was with the gorgeous new guy.

But he had to admit, he liked the way that Hanale was smiling at him as he slid into a seat across the counter as they waited for their new friend to finish with his phone and come join them. His heart skipped a tiny little beat as Hanale called him handsome, even with Cris in the picture.

"Okay, remember how I told you I don't usually do clubs and parties? I... I have no idea what's a good mixed drink and what's not. So... you pick! I know you won't do me dirty."

Hanale put a hand to his heart. "I would never do you dirty!" His boy scout image cracked a little with his grin. "Unless you want me to." Wink. Wink. Laughing he turned around to peruse the collection. A lot of them were pretty harsh for someone who wasn't a habitual drinker—neither was Hanale but he liked a glass of something to warm his stomach before bed. Usually because there was no one to warm his actual bed.

"Okay let's do a simple pineapple juice with a splash of dark rum!" Something tropical, since they were at the lake. He added a dash of grenadine to give it a reddish gradient from top to bottom—make it look pretty for the ultra pretty, ultra handsome customer. Hanale offered it to him, still grinning and madly flirting—unashamed, too, because this was what they were here for! To have a good time!

Cris appeared at the doorway, looking uncertain. His smile was shy too, and quite small. Hanale beckoned to him and gestured to the stool next to Kylar. "Come in! Have a seat! Can I get you anything?"

After a moment, Cris slid into the stool and offered Kylar a smile and nod. "Just a rum and coke please. Hi. Sorry if I interrupt..."

"I might..."

He might want him to do him dirty. Might. There really was no might, actually. He kinda maybe a little bit was dying to kiss him right now. With that smile, that grin. That laugh. Be still, his heart. Honestly, Kylar couldn't even remember the last time he'd crushed so hard on somebody before. Maybe because there was too much serious crap going on in his work life. Maybe because he did need a break and some time with somebody that wasn't family.

So Will and Mik were right.

Pulling the drink closer, he stared at it. "How did you make it do that? It's so pretty!" He was almost afraid to drink it but... It looked so good at the same time. As he lifted the glass to take a drink, Cris finally joined them and smiled. Kylar smiled back. It sounded like he knew mixed drinks. He looked so clean and proper, it was hard to imagine him partying. Kylar's image of party boys were the ones with the wild hair and tats and leather jackets.

"It's all good," Kylar said cheerfully, before taking a drink. And WHOA. The rum part was strong, though! He coughed a few times. "So you have a friend coming?" That was good. At least the poor lonely guy wouldn't be alone anymore. "We can keep you company until then!"

"Magic~" Hanale whispered all mysterious-like as he jazz hands waved them through the air, hamming it up because what else was he going to do? Explain calmly that the grenadine was a thick syrup so it flowed down slower through the pineapple juice and dispersed outward in a colorful and pretty way? When he could do jazz hands and say magic?! No way!

After making the rum and coke for Cris, he made himself a fizzy gin and soda and leaned up against the counter facing both of them, sipping his drink slowly. He laughed gently at Kylar's reaction to the rum—it did have a liiiittle bit of a spicy kick to it. "Easy, easy. Sorry, next time I'll put less rum in it."

Almost purely on instinct he reached out to lace his fingers through Kylar's, the one not holding the drink. Hanale wasn't even trying to show off or anything; it felt right. He wanted to touch him, to be near him. When Kylar looked at him, when he smiled at him and laughed with (or at) him, it made his heart soar. God, he knew it'd been a while since he'd last felt this rush but this time it was so strong!

"Yes, I have a friend. Edel. He coming from Spain." Cris drank his rather hurriedly, Hanale noticed. "Um. My English, it's not good. But I want to say. Thank you for... invite? Invitation? To... drink and. The beautiful rainbow."

He laughed. Of course, of course. It was magic! And let it be, because he liked the idea of magic. Of course he did. Witch blood. But this was a different kind of magic and he wanted to say so but... He took another drink--this time a slower sip--and let it burn down his throat. It went a little smoother this time, but he still lightly coughed after he swallowed.

His smile only grew as Hanale laced his fingers in his. It felt... nice. Warm. Connected. Affection was practically shining out of his face, but he didn't really mean for it to. It just... sort of bubbled up out of him.

Meanwhile, Cris seemed to be struggling. Not with his language, though there was that, too. But he drank like... he drank like somebody that drank a lot. Like he was very familiar with holding the glass, with the taste, the sensation. Like that one glass was not going to be enough for whatever reasons he had for drinking it in the first place.

"We're glad to have you," Kylar said, feeling somewhat sorry for him, whatever his plight might be. Are you okay? He was seconds from asking it, seconds. But he didn't want to bring the guy down if he was clearly already down. Maybe he just needed to chill and relax and have a good time. So instead, he laughed and said, "Yeah, that rainbow is something special, isn't it?"

There was one bottle of very good tequila back at his place left and all the other bottles were empty, laying in a profusion across the dusty kitchen counter. Cris had been steadily drinking his way through them at night while he tore his hair out trying to come to terms with the fact that there was a negative balance to his father's account so damn big, it would take six thousand lifetimes to pay them off.

And that debt was now his, all his. Not even his mother wanted anything to do with this. She didn't have enough to pay off a fraction of it. All that money he thought he was coming into... all the money he spent, the tabs he racked up, thinking that he was rich and belonged with the elite, all of that was nothing more than a horrific nightmare now.

Cris drank his rum and coke very quickly, sucking it down but still feeling the dark weight of despair bobbing to the surface. He smiled stiffly at the other two, with their hands together and their eyes on one another. They looked so happy, so content. They loved one another, didn't they? That was love in the way they looked at each other, and they could barely tear their eyes away from the other's face. It was so sweet...

He was so jealous. Cris could never be that bold. Before he came in he heard their laughter mingling, their flirtatious words, and he almost walked right out. But they were so nice to invite him—and he knew there was booze here to help take the edge off his problems. The one called Kylar had a sweet laugh and kind eyes. Cris felt warmly towards them both.

"Yes. Very eye-catching," he nodded, unable to muster up a laugh. His empty glass was filled—this time with more rum than coke he noticed. Hanale's eyes were kind too, and full of understanding as he gently nodded at Cris.

"When's your friend arriving? Soon?" Hanale asked as he sipped sparingly from his glass.

"I think soon, yes." God, he shouldn't have told Edel to come either. He should have stayed here, all by himself, but he was so desperately lonely. He missed his friends so much, their faces, their warm laughter, even the wild parties. Kylar and Hanale were his friends now but they were still strangers.

Yet the thought of being alone with Edel made the panic bubble up more intensely than ever because out of everyone he left behind, he regretted Edel the most. Cris drank a large mouthful and swallowed it. "Are you two. Boyfriends?" He asked out of nowhere, curious, envious of their happiness, tongue loosened by the strong drink.

"Um..."

Kylar glanced over at Hanale with a tinge of heat in his cheeks. Wow, Cris didn't pull any punches, did he? But then, they must have looked like a couple, what with all the... the hand holding and such. Boyfriends, though... They just met. They were on a date, this whole weekend... it was a date, right? But boyfriends?

"Well, we're kinda--"

He cut himself off when he saw a cab pulling up to what he presumed was Cris' place. Watching through the window, he saw him waving goodbye to the driver. No luggage or anything, though. It looked like all he had on him was a backpack.

"Is that him?" Kylar asked. "Your friend?"

They looked happy. He wanted to say that but the boyfriend question came out--because he wanted to know. If they were happy because they were openly gay, if they loved each other without fear of judgment, without fear of scandal. Spain wasn't in the dark ages about homosexuals but being the son of a prominent figure made it difficult.

And... Jen.

There was a lot of guilt weighing Cris down, long before this money thing became an issue. Right now he wasn't in a good place for any kind of relationship though, much less a boyfriend. Maybe boyfriends only happened to people like these, so carefree and full of affection for each other.

He leapt off the stool as soon as Kylar pointed out the cab, and that all-too-familiar figure emerged with nothing but a backpack on. Shit. Cris set his glass down, heart thumping, vision tunneling. He barely realized that he was walking out, barely heard Hanale asking him if he was okay--if he wanted to invite his friend to join them.

Next thing he knew he was running down the driveway, across the lawn, and throwing himself at Edel with a half-wild cry of his name. He never realized how much he truly missed him until they were half a world apart.

A lot of memories came rushing back when he saw the old cabin on the lake. It had been ages since they'd last been here. Wild times, though. Seventeen felt like decades ago. The parties, the sex, the alcohol and drugs. Edel experimented. Of course he did. But he never really took to it the way a lot of the others did, especially Jaime.

He stared at the cabin, remembering the first time he'd come here, with Jaime smacking him on the back too hard and making him stumble. Cris' arm around Jen as he walked up to the front. Edel... Edel taking it all in. The beautiful views, the tree line, the glittering water. Now when he looked, he saw into the past. At a party. Alcohol and drugs in his system. All it took was the two of them alone on the deck overlooking the lake. All it took was a smile.

Edel turned when he saw movement at the place next door and before he knew it, Cris was knocking himself into him, throwing his arms around him. Edel's arms were around him too, tight. It was so surreal that they were in this place now. But it felt good to know that Cris was alive. He was in person. Not throwing himself into the lake, not hanging himself, not... not following in his father's footsteps. His heart shook a little at the thought; it had been hanging over him ever since he heard what happened. And it only grew worse, when he realized Cris had vanished.

Grasping the back of Cris' head, he turned his head toward him and kissed his temple.

"You bastard!" he said, but with affectionate. And then softly, "I've been worried sick about you."

For the first time in weeks, he laughed. It was kind of a half-crazed laugh but it was a laugh and it felt good to be something other than miserable and afraid. Cris held him so tight he was sure he was cutting all the oxygen off. That was okay because he already couldn't breathe, like seeing Edel knocked the air out of his lungs.

"That's your problem, isn't it?" He laughed, more freely this time as his own lips grazed part of Edel's jaw. Lips on his temple. It felt right. And he was too elated to see his best friend to really care how they must have looked to the happy and handsome couple next door. Cris already decided they were a couple; they had to be. They were too cute not to be.

Finally he pulled back, just so he could look at Edel. "I can't believe you're here. You bastard, you came with nothing?!" That backpack looked like it had maybe one or two changes of clothes. No bottles. Hm. Too bad. Last time they were here--at the tender age of seventeen--they were packing all kinds of fun things.

But of course he was joking. Having Edel here was more than enough and all of his former nervousness seemed to have fled in the rush of joy at seeing him here. He was a taste of home. "Come on. Let's get--oh shit." Cris paled. "The hot gay neighbors. I ran out on them--" He turned.

They were looking out at them from the front door of the adjacent lake house and Hanale was laughing and whispering something into Kylar's ear.

"Yeah, well, I was kind of in a rush." He was smiling though. Name calling came with the territory after knowing somebody as long as they knew each other. It was a sign of affection at this point. But yeah, there wasn't much in the bag. All he knew was that as soon as he had figured out where to fly, he was gone, grabbing the very next flight to get to him.

Hot gay neighbors, eh? Edel tilted his head and looked over at the pair in the next house, the one Cris had come tearing out of.

"Doesn't look like they're mad," Edel observed. If anything, they seemed pretty amused. Well, maybe it wasn't everyday they saw somebody go bum-rushing their friend for a hug. He turned his attention back on Cris. "You were saying?"

"They invited us for drinks, and then to hang out with them and go for a swim," Cris whispered, now horribly embarrassed over what he'd just done. He smiled weakly at them, waved limply, then turned back to Edel. Who didn't look fazed.

Because he wasn't the one tearing off to hug his friend like a maniac.

Yes...

No...

"You speak English, right? Come with me. They have booze. A lot of it. And they're actually really nice, I don't know what I was worried about."

"Sounds..." He looked over at the pair again. Drinks, hanging out, swimming. Honestly, after being stuck sitting on a flight forever, he was down. Edel looked back at Cris with a smile. "Lovely."

What else were they going to do, anyway? Go into Cris' place and talk? The talk would have to come. They both knew it. Cris had to talk about it. His dad. His feelings on what happened to his life. What he might have come here to ultimately do. But it could wait. Maybe Cris needed this right now. To just be normal for a bit.

He grinned. "I do speak English," he said in English to show off. "One of the better things my daddy gave me." He slung an arm around his best friend's shoulders and started up the neighbor's driveway.

"Yeah, they look super scary," he teased, getting a better look at them as they drew closer to the front door. They didn't. They looked like two of the friendliest people he'd ever met. The taller one was grinning from ear to ear.

"Are you boyfriends?" he asked, and without a lick of context, the words took Edel aback.

"What?" He moved his arm from around Cris' shoulders. "No! We're best friends." What kinda question was that to ask somebody he didn't even know? Shit...

What a relief to have Edel here! Not only did he speak English, he provided the necessary support that Cris needed to not be an awkward loner. Back home it was easier to fit in because the people he mingled with were people he had grown up with. He was comfortable with them and he felt safe with them, even if he knew deep down that most of them were only around for the perks. The parties, the things money could buy, the entertainment.

Almost everyone abandoned him once his father fell from grace. Only his true friends stayed—Edel, Jen, Jaime. Jaime was honestly a surprise and he claimed that he was here because of Jen, but Cris knew better. Even Jaime had a shred of decency in him. A very little shred, but a shred nonetheless that redeemed some of his worse qualities.

"You show-off," he grimaced horribly, peeved that Edel felt the need to say that in English to prove a point. Everyone knew Cris' English was awful. He never got the hang of it despite his friends seeming to have no issues. Even Jen got fed up with teaching him and he gave up eventually, turning to German to scrape a pass to graduate.

Cris shot him a dirty look for the scary neighbors comment because it was uncalled for—and inside he was glowing. Warm. These kinds of jokes were sorely missed. Edel knew just how far to push him and just how to get slightly under his skin. Asshole. But his best friend, too. "Shut up," he muttered as they walked up to Hanale's house together, Cris' arm around Edel's waist.

ERRR.

He side-stepped very quickly. "No! No! We're friends!" YIKES! That question was coming back to bite him in the ass now! Cris laughed awkwardly and wished a hole would open up under him.

Hanale laughed too but nudged Kylar in the side. "You little imp! Are you tipsy? I think you are!" He grinned. "Come on guys, another round of drinks! You must be Edel, right? Nice to meet you! I'm Hanale. This is Kylar, my maybe boyfriend if this weekend goes well."

"Yes. I'm Edel. ...Maybe boyfriend?" Edel asked politely. Odd way to introduce a guy. So, was this their shot at figuring out if this was a boyfriend kind of relationship, then? Edel slightly raised his brows. Did they... not... do it yet? Oh... Edel felt like they were invading something, interrupting something important. He glanced at Cris apprehensively but Hanale and Kylar seemed friendly and insistent on allowing them to join them.

Kylar practically bounced as he blurted out, "Yes!" The way he looked at Hanale was very Telling. These two were not maybe boyfriends. Maybe that's what they were calling it right now but they were definitely in that honeymoon phase of a new relationship. Edel smiled to himself. He remembered that feeling all too well.

"This is kind of our first date," Kylar continued as they entered the neighbor's lake house and they were led to a nice bar. The lake houses out here weren't cookie cutter suburban things, so it was vastly different from Cris' place. But it was equally expensive and beautiful, if in a different way.

"A mutual friend of ours set us up," Kylar said as he hopped onto a stool in front of a fancy looking yellow and red drink. "Usually, he's terrible at match-making but I think this time he struck, um, gold."

Edel smiled as he took a seat next to the empty glass... which he had to assume was Cris'. Hopefully nothing too strong. Hopefully not too much. He side-eyed Cris before resuming smiling at Kylar.

"I met my boyfriend at a party."

"I thought you said you weren't boyfriends."

"We're not," Edel said with a laugh, gesturing a hand between his chest and Cris' chest. "We've known each other since primary school. Like I said. Best friend." He cleared his throat. "Can I get a whiskey neat?"

If everyone would stop talking about their boyfriends now... Cris thought somewhat miserably as he trailed along after the happy maybe-couple. For a second, after Hanale introduced Kylar as his maybe-boyfriend, he looked a little unsure. Then when Kylar practically leapt to say YES, Hanale's grin could have lit up the sky.

Clearly they were in that kind of a relationship—the kind that started out with fireworks and pure bliss. Where did that go though? Up? Higher? Or downhill once they got to really know one another? Hard to tell. Cris wished them nothing but happiness but at the same time, that little bit of a cynic in him hoped that the fall wouldn't be too hard. They were really lovely people.

A lot of the exchange in English went over his head, so he went back to his seat nodding and smiling and repeating 'friends only' to convince them that there was nothing between himself and Edel. Drunk kisses didn't count. The one over at his place, their first kiss—a cool night, drinks and drugs, the moon glinting off the lake and a smile. Not even really an inviting smile, just... a happy smile. The first kiss caught him off-guard so he didn't push Edel away. The second one, he had no explanation for.

Then a few weeks later, another party. Some club or other with the throbbing music in his veins and again—drinks. Drugs. He was giddy and high and he'd pulled Edel away from the crowd to dance with him. They did that a lot anyway, whether at a club or a bar or just in their own homes, having a good time and fooling around. Another smile though. Happy. Content. And another series of kisses he hazily remembered the next morning when he woke up next to Jen.

And so it went, here and there, a smattering of blurry memories.

Cris cradled his newly-filled glass and sipped it. Hanale had handed Edel one as well, and was asking him about coming all the way to dinky Hazleton from Spain. Was it nice in Spain? Sunny? He'd always wanted to go, he said with a bright handsome smile. "Maybe we should go some time, Ky," Hanale grinned as he took Kylar's hand again, slipping into a nickname for him rather quickly, Cris noted. But by now they were all two or three drinks in (except Kylar who apparently was a light-weight).

"Hey is your boyfriend joining you guys later then?" A perfectly normal question for Hanale to ask, Cris thought. He buried his face in his glass.

There was talk of Spain, weather, the usual introductory chatter. During the conversation, Hanale and Kylar seemed to be completely entranced with one another. A little part of Edel's heart felt the pang of wistfulness at their happiness. Despite all his arguing with Cris and Jaime about how much he loved Rey, sometimes, it was so difficult to be with him. But they had been this happily aglow... once.

He wondered if Rey was okay. Edel had left so abruptly and he hadn't explained anything, per Cris' wishes. Guilt filled his chest at the thought. He lifted his glass to take a long drink. Edel claimed to be better at holding his alcohol but really, he wasn't. Since getting together with Rey, he didn't drink nearly as much. Hardly ever, really.

Annnnd talk was back to Rey. Edel had purposely left things short and vague regarding Rey, knowing full well how Cris felt about him. Annoying. Clingy. Paranoid. Cris never had a single nice thing to say about him.

"No," he said after a pause. "It's just us out here." He looked over at Cris. "It's been a while since we had time to ourselves, between his girlfriend and my boyfriend and work and everything."

Wow. Two handsome guys. And one extremely captivating, gorgeous, funny, sweet, charming maybe-boyfriend. Hanale couldn't accurately describe how it felt to introduce Kylar as a maybe-boyfriend. It had been that long since he let anyone in that close that the words felt foreign on his tongue. He was mostly joking but... part-way not. And it felt so right afterwards, when Kylar agreed with him. Maybe-boyfriend. If the weekend went right.

It was getting off to a great start already!

Hanale watched Cris drinking from his glass with a little smile, noting the way he looked at Edel. By the way he ran out on them earlier he would have said 'only friends' was a blatant lie but he didn't want to make things awkward for them. There was something there, he could tell. And also—okay cheating a little bit, but he peeked at their hearts' lights and he peeked at the lines of fate between them. There were connections to other people, some strong, some not. And their connection to each other...

"Oh, that's adorable! Making time for your closest friend, that's so sweet." Hanale topped up everyone's glasses as he beamed at the two of them. Was Kylar seeing what he was seeing? Awkwardness when it came to the subject of significant others. Interesting... "Well I say we get your trip started off right! Let's get down to the lake and test out my giant rainbow float!" They'd all had enough drinks to loosen up, right? Hanale was warm and happy and maybe a little light-headed. The perfect state to go down to the water and have a bit of a splash around, and then maybe... have the rest of the evening alone with Kylar.

Hmmmmmmmm. Kylar couldn't help it. Even after he asked if they were boyfriends and they denied it, Kylar couldn't stop seeing it. They sure seemed like they could be boyfriends. Or that they were really into each other. They both had significant others, so that must have really complicated things. But man! The chemistry was there. It was cute! It was like watching teenagers back in high school dancing around the truth of their attraction.

Kylar might have been tipsy but even he noticed the way those two drank. They didn't sip like Hanale and Kylar did. They drank like they were trying desperately to either get drunk real quick or to erase something bouncing around in their heads. HMMMMMMMMM indeed! Kylar looked over at Hanale and exchanged what he thought was a secret Look. Surely he wasn't the only one noticing this?!

"Yes, yes~" Kylar sang as he stood a little too quickly. His head spun and he laughed as he leaned against the counter.

"That thing out there?" Edel asked sounding somewhat amused. "Are we going in full nude or...? I forgot to bring something to swim in."

Kylar blushed despite himself. "Wh-what? I... I have swim trunks. But I only brought one pair..." He glanced at Hanale. Did he have extras...?

"Whoa, careful!" Hanale made a quick exit from behind the counter so that he could throw an arm around Kylar to keep him steady. Cute, Cris thought. It was the little things that really counted, wasn't it? The way he held Kylar so carefully, the laughter in his voice and eyes, the way he looked at his maybe-boyfriend.

"I have a couple of pairs in the bedroom. Hold on. You. Come with me, I don't trust you to walk to your room alone." Laughing, Hanale pulled Kylar with him and disappeared from view.

Cris drained whatever was left in his glass, feeling much less tense now with... three? Four? Glasses in him? He might have been drinking before this... He might have been drinking long before this, and sustained that state of inebriation for days. Weeks.

He fell against Edel as he pushed his empty glass away and rested his head against Edel's shoulder. "I'm--I'm going in naked!" he declared as though he was about to solve world hunger. Firmly. Decision made. Totally going in naked. Why not? Who cared? They all had partners. All of them had partners. All of them. It didn't matter anyway. Didn't matter who saw him naked. They all had partners.

Unsteadily he pushed off and started stripping right then and there, with a daredevil light in his eyes that only seemed to emerge when he was drunk.

All right then. Extra swim trunks for all. And then it was just the two of them. Alone. With alcohol in their bodies. Cris seemed to have a lot more in him than what had been shared by the maybe-boyfriends. No way was he that drunk from those... how many glasses did he drink? How many did he have before Edel arrived?

Edel laughed softly as Cris leaned against him and he raised a hand to touch the back of his friend's head when Cris suddenly declared that he was going in naked. Uh. Edel's hand paused and then slowly dropped back down. Why was his mouth so dry at the thought? It wasn't as if he'd never seen Cris naked before, either. They shared baths on occasion when staying overnight together. Cris showed him how to jerk off for the first time. They'd gone skinny dipping, he'd seen him in the locker room. Naked Cris was nothing new.

"Don't," Edel said in a warning tone, holding a hand out to Cris' chest, as if that would stop him. "Don't even go there."

But he was. Cris was stripping down with that crazy, mischievous, troublemaking glint in his eyes that always seemed to appear when he'd had a few drinks too many.

"You are such a show off," Edel said with a slight roll of the eyes.

No nonono no no, no stopping him now! Cris was naked in the blink of an eye. He was good at taking clothes off--his own, other people's. Call it a lesser-known skill. He grinned as he flippantly tossed his underwear over Edel's head--the way a stripper might if they were, like, really bad at their job.

"It's not showing off if you like it! It's stripping. I'm stripping for you!" he laughed, drunkenly, as he grabbed the last of the other two's drinks and polished them off too. There! Buffer for the rest of the evening! He was going to hurt in the morning but right now he was God. Naked God.

"I have a good body. Right? I think I have a good body!" He grabbed one of Edel's hands and placed it against his abdomen so that Edel could feel the muscles there. Then he moved it around, up and down, so that Edel had the full experience. "See? See I didn't let myself go! Feel that? Feel it?!"

Without letting go of Edel's hand he leaned in close and lowered his tone. His gaze was on Edel, suddenly serious. "You need to get naked with me."

"For me?" Edel said in a skeptical tone. Cris was too drunk, he thought. If he wasn't drunk, he wouldn't be declaring stupid things like that. Maybe he thought he was Jen for some reason. Or one of Jen's... playthings. One of their playthings? Edel wondered sometimes but he didn't ask and Cris didn't talk about it.

"You--" Edel's words were cut off when his hand was taken in Cris' and placed against bare skin. Now that was not something they had done. Jerking it off in front of each other once during their younger teen years was one thing--that was kinda normal, wasn't it? This... Edel tried to move his hand back. It felt like he was doing something distinctly wrong. He tried hard not to even look at Cris' naked body, although it wasn't easy.

"You're drunk."

Cris didn't let go of him though. In fact, he kept holding onto his hand, pressed against his warm skin. Close. Way too close. Face to face. Gaze to gaze. That serious expression did not match the words that came out of Cris' mouth. Edel, despite himself, laughed. He laughed and he tried to withdraw his hand.

"I think I'll wait for a swimsuit."

This... was not the time or place for what Cris almost seemed to be suggesting. Was there ever a time or place for that?

"Yah... YAH! I'm drunk!" Cris laughed because Edel laughed. He loved Edel's laugh! It was another little taste of home to hear such a familiar sound. The warmth from his laugh went straight to his chest and Cris grinned like a goofy teenager. He felt like a goofy teenager again, to be honest, standing there naked and trying to convince someone he liked to get naked with him.

Finally he let go of Edel's hand but snorted dismissively. "Chicken." Pfft. Swimsuit. There was a burst of laughter behind him and he turned to see Hanale with swimming trunks over one arm. Cris was too drunk to even feel embarrassed. He grinned even wider and shrugged his shoulders as if to say--"What're you gonna do?"

"Are we all going naked?" Hanale asked with an amused smile and a lift of the brows. "Lake's pretty cold..."

"You know I'm not."

Chicken, that was. Edel wasn't ashamed of his body. And as mentioned before, he had been naked before Cris before. They used to be naked around each other all the time. Before, when they were kids and there was no awkward tension. And then later, when the tension had to be imagined. And then...

Edel turned to look at the counter, but his glass was conspicuously empty. How many glasses had he had? Not as many as Cris. Enough to be buzzed, though. Enough to hear the chicken comment and feel like he had something to prove. Enough to hear the amusement in Hanale's voice when he asked if they were all going naked.

"Is a flimsy pair of shorts going to change that?" Edel asked with a grin. Now they weren't standing so close and skin wasn't on skin, everything was back to normal. Without another thought, Edel shed his clothes, too, despite the way Kylar's eyes widened at the sight of two naked men standing there in front of them. He looked to Hanale like he could help him, like he was floundering.

"I don't..." Kylar said and it was obvious that at least one of them was shy about being naked.

"Last one in has to let the rest of us take body shots off him!" Edel shouted in English before racing off, naked as a jaybird down to the lake and without preamble, leapt right into that cold, cold water.

"Hnnn." That noise was the sum of all of Cris' skepticism rolled into one half-snort. Right, he wasn't chicken. That was why he wasn't stripping down right now and joining Cris in all of his naked glory. It was true—they had never been body-shy around one another. They did everything naked, it felt like, for no good reason. Just because.

Before the weird drunk kisses started happening they were just buddies and it wasn't awkward to be naked together. There were... complications, yes, but Cris imagined that was nothing more than curiosity on his part. Young guys, handsome guys, they were all around him. He was curious but he had a girlfriend and that was the way things were.

"Well... actually that's a good point." Hanale conceded with a low laugh, turning to Kylar. His smile faded a little when he noticed Kylar's reluctance and after a moment, he set the trunks down to begin undressing too. "I think I'll still wear a pair of these, just in case it helps." The smile went back to being amused—clearly he didn't think it would but it was cute that he was trying not to force Kylar to be the only not naked one.

Cris grinned and turned back to the sight of Edel almost completely naked too. Hah! He wasn't the only one good at getting out of his clothes! See—there was a reason they were best friends. But then Edel shouted something in English that Cris didn't really understand—body shot? Boxing?—and he was gone. Cris blinked; his brain was severely hampered by alcohol. It wasn't until Hanale grabbed Kylar and ran too that he realized this was a race and he bolted down too, fast on their heels.

"Damnit!" Cris shouted, last one in the lake by half a step. Hanale was laughing hilariously as he pulled Kylar with him into the water, dunking them both. After huffing for a moment, Cris threw himself at Edel. "What did you say earlier?! You jerk you know my English is bad!"

"I'M NOT LOSING!" Kylar screamed as he raced down to the water. Edel grinned from where he was treading water, watching as the last person to hit the water was none other than Cris. His grin only grew, devious and mischievous. Kylar laughed in triumph once he burst back up, pumping a fist into the air before putting an arm around his maybe-boyfriend.

Edel splashed Cris with water when he came at him.

"Oh? You didn't understand?" He tread water backward, away from Cris, anticipating retaliation when he revealed what Cris had to do for losing. "I said last one in the water has to let the rest of take body shots off him." His foot brushed Cris' ankle under the water. "And that... seems to be you, Cris."

"YOU WHAT!" Cris threw himself bodily at Edel again with an outraged cry. In his indignation he barely felt the cold of the lake water and when he did, his body had already mostly acclimatized to it. "How could you—glub glub glub—you asshole! You didn't even—" He flailed around in a most uncoordinated manner because on top of being a horrible English speaker, he was also a horrible swimmer. Cris didn't take well to water despite how much he loved to be in it. He could do things on water like sail or water-ski but swimming somehow eluded him.

Making a lot more noise and splashes than actual revenge, eventually he gave up. But he didn't give up glaring, not even when Hanale pulled the giant float over and scrambled up onto it—with a gentlemanly hand to his maybe-boyfriend. Cris kicked water at Edel as he got on too but he made it wobble so hard that Hanale yelped and almost fell back into the lake. Cris refused to lend a hand to Edel—but he probably didn't need one.

"Shots?" Hanale's grin was evil. He held up a bottle. Where the fuck did he get that bottle? It felt like he'd already prepared it—ah, maybe he stowed it here, intending to use it when he and Kylar came out to enjoy the lake. "Who's up first? And where, oh where, would we do it?" He laughed as he poked Cris' belly button meaningfully.

Edel laughed even as Cris threw himself at him again. Honestly, he just assumed that English or Spanish, Cris would understand a race was happening. Wasn't it universal, when somebody shouted something and took off running that there was a race in progress? He was still grinning when he made it onto the humorously giant rainbow float. It seemed like Hanale and Kylar were having fun with it, too. Especially Hanale, who somehow produced a bottle of alcohol from seemingly nowhere.

"I've never done a body shot before," Kylar said. "Show me."

But he seemed delighted to even be trying, for whatever it was worth. Edel shoved Cris playfully onto his back. Thank goodness the float was so huge. He kept his hand on Edel's chest, where he'd pushed him, as if Cris was going to pop right back up. Edel winked at Hanale.

"Show him how it's done."

"Where did that even come from?!" Cris shouted indignantly as he fell over backwards. Taking advantage of a drunk man, Edel was a jerk! But he laid there anyway, glaring up at them—mock-glaring, though. If he let on that he was enjoying this a liiiittle too much, it wouldn't be fun for them. He even half-struggled, though not very vigorously.

"I prepared a little thing for Kylar and me earlier," Hanale laughed as he broke the seal on the bottle, which fizzed and bubbled immediately. Ah—champagne. And there was a basket of cheeses and grapes and dried fruit off to the very end of the float that Cris only just noticed. A picnic basket... for two people. With champagne flutes and everything. How romantic! "We can have that later, honey," Hanale said to Kylar with a wink. "When we're alone. But! For now!"

He edged over and poured a little of the fizzy drink onto Cris' stomach, then bent and licked it off of him in a distinctly sexual way. His tongue even dipped into Cris' navel... which did nothing for the heat building in his groin. Cris struggled again, this time to get his mind off of that tongue...

"Just do that." Hanale handed the bottle over to Kylar. "But less sexy because you're my maybe-boyfriend, not his!"

And for some reason, Cris' eyes couldn't leave Edel's. He gazed up at him with anticipation boiling over and darkening his gaze, knowing that after Kylar... it was his turn... and they were both so naked... and drunk... God, they were so drunk...

Haha! The way that Kylar watched Hanale was distinctly wistful. Obviously, he wanted Cris to be him. Or maybe he wanted to be licking up alcohol off Hanale... Either way, they would have plenty of time to revisit this later if they wanted. And Hanale didn't pull any punches, either. There was definitely something distinctly sexual in the way he took that shot. Dude had done it before. That was okay; so had Edel.

"Okay. I can do this," Kylar said, as if he had to pep talk himself into doing it. He poured a little too much and made a little eep sound but the rest of them were waiting for him to go ahead and do it. And he did; alcohol made even the shyest amongst them bolder. It wasn't nearly as sexual as Hanale's turn but... Edel looked down at Cris, eyes on him. Didn't matter. It was still a tongue on his naked body.

Taking the bottle next, Edel poured the alcohol over Cris' stomach, then handed the bottle back to Kylar, who held it in both hands and glanced over at Hanale. But Edel wasn't paying them any attention anymore. He leaned down, hand sliding down, over Cris' thigh. His tongue slid down over Cris' taut stomach and down to the navel with a swirl and a suck before his hand move to Cris' hip bone. When he raised his head and looked down, he wasn't even slightly surprised to see that Cris was... growing excited.

He gave Cris' chest a nice smack and a knowing Look. "Next time, don't be last, tonto."

Cris squirmed when his midsection was drenched but he didn't mind. It was kind of nice because of the shy tongue that lapped it up afterwards. While it wasn't nearly as suggestive as Hanale, it was still a warm tongue on him and he smiled down at Kylar, enjoying the sensations. For some reason before Kylar lifted his head, Cris stroked the back of his head like... like he was petting a cat. Or petting a little brother for doing a good job in math. Except—body shot. No offense to Kylar but he was really just too adorable for Cris to view in any sexual way.

Almost as soon as Kylar was up though, Hanale was pulling at him, pulling him down slightly to kiss him. Somebody evidently wanted attention back onto himself—which was fine by Cris, as Edel was up and all of him tensed the second that champagne touched his body. His fingers curled against the rubber float when Edel's hand slid up his thigh. Bastard. He didn't have to do that—he did that to rile Cris up, didn't he?

God.

Damnit.

He was feeling it. Really feeling it, in a way he hadn't felt in so long, not with Jen, not with anyone, not even the guys they shared. Those guys were always more interested in Jen and Cris was there for the ride. He watched them though, with hungry eyes—the same hungry eyes he applied to Edel when he bent to suck up the champagne and to do that thing to his navel that made him twitch and twist. "Bastard," he hiss-whispered afterwards. Now everybody could see his cock at half-mast. Not... that the other two mattered, and Hanale was already edging to the other end of the float and taking Kylar with him, plying him with deep kisses.

But Edel.

Drunk Cris thought it was a smart idea to yank Edel back down though. He didn't know where he was going with it until he rolled himself over, trying to get on top of him as the float wobbled and squeaked.

The other two were kissing. They didn't even seem to care or notice what the pair of them were doing. Which was just as well; they were all a little drunk, on alcohol, on something... else. Edel didn't really care to think about what that something else was. A part of him already knew and the alcohol, it always seemed to unlock everything that was kept so neatly locked away the rest of the time.

So when Cris pulled him in, he sort of expected it. A kiss. But instead, he was being rolled over onto his back as Cris insinuated himself atop him. Not the most ideal position right now but he only laughed softly because his head spun pleasantly and his hand was sliding up a broad chest and around the back of Cris' head. He could feel the heat of Cris' body against him, still slick with lake water. And he could feel Cris' growing erection against his thigh as he moved against him. Edel didn't know what possessed him to reach down, to slide a palm over him, to wrap his fingers around him.

The hand at the back of Cris' head pulled him in for a kiss. Not a brotherly kiss to the temple, not a friendly peck. The kind of kiss reserved for bedrooms, behind closed doors.

Fuuuuck he was so drunk it wasn't even funny! He was the kind of drunk that led to every bad decision in the book—the kind of drunk that turned bad decisions into good decisions, like pushing his best friend down and straddling him and rubbing up against him to relieve the growing tightness in his groin. The tension was getting to be a bit much and with all that alcohol and loneliness under his metaphorical belt, his frustrations were boiling over.

And Edel wasn't helping either. He was warm and slick too, his mop of curls damp as Cris' hand slid through them affectionately. Everything with affection, even shoving him onto his back. God, his laugh, his voice, it did something to Cris' insides and melted them. The way he smiled drove him crazy on a good day. Cris didn't know how it was possible to be this desirable—and this much of a bastard. Seriously.

The moan he let out when Edel began to touch him was half-absorbed into their kiss. It was fierce and intense, every bit as familiar as the warmth in his chest and in his groin. Every time they kissed, Cris remembered it. He could be blitzed and remember nothing of the entire evening, but he remembered their kisses. Kisses on the deck of the lake house, in a club, in the back seat of a taxi—drunk kisses everywhere.

And now here, on a pool float. Cris ground into his hand, riding it gently as one kiss melted into the next. He barely remembered Kylar and Hanale; nobody was saying anything. There were just sounds, the waves lapping against the pool float, tongues lapping against tongues, hands on bodies, soft, pleasured moans. Cris' head spun so fast it made him dizzy. Or was that the kiss?

His hand slipped between them too, to feel Edel. This was new territory for them; they always stuck to kissing before. But then again they had never been naked together before...

Why oh why did he throw the body shot challenge out there? Why oh why did he decide to get naked? Because he was called a chicken? It didn't much matter. They were already here, somehow. Naked and together and kissing. And he could feel how much Cris was into this. Why was that so encouraging? Why was it such a turn on?

Fuck but he was good at this. Cris made the most beautiful sounds that seemed to strike Edel just right. He moved his body like a work of art, only instead of just being a beautiful model, he was in motion, a dancer, somehow graceful even after that ungainly swimming earlier and the fact that they were drunk as fuck on a blown up raft.

A tight little moan escaped Edel as Cris returned his touch, grasping him. The way it sent an electric thrill all the way up his spine and the back of his head was not expected. His lower body bucked into his touch, greedy for more. His fingers ran through soft, short dark hair while the other hand explored the length of Cris' cock. It felt forbidden. It felt wrong. It felt right.

Another series of kisses and then he turned his head slightly, biting his lower lip as another small sound escaped the back of his throat. His nose brushed against Cris' cheek, he nuzzled his jaw, his throat. After a moment, his tongue ran down the hollow of his throat. Cris smelled of cologne, of clean soap, of lake water, of something masculine and dark. Edel's eyes half opened as he tilted his head back and regarded Cris through drunk and ardent eyes.

Before there was Jen, there were Edel and Jaime. They were the Unholy Trio, everyone acknowledged it, but mostly that was Jaime. As individuals, Cris didn't think that he and Edel were all that wild. Cris went along with Jaime's schemes to belong, because at heart he was quite a sensitive person and he wanted intensely to be liked and admired. Edel, he knew, followed along to make sure no one died—he was sort of the calm and responsible one.

After Jen, it was Cris and Jen. Jen was popular and well-liked and for some reason she took a liking to Cris. He reveled in his popularity at first because for once, he wasn't in the shadows. He was the guy all the other guys wanted to be; he was Cris, not 'Jaime's and Edel's friend.' And truly and deeply, he loved Jen. She was the one he always counted on to stand up for him, to look after him, to love him unconditionally.

But he couldn't love her with all of his heart. He loved her with as much of it as he could but a part of it belonged here, with Edel. A part of him always knew that the way he felt about Edel wasn't the same way he felt about Jaime. A part of him always denied that, even when they couldn't get enough of one another during those drunken spells when they kissed like the world was ending. And then Edel found Rey and he was so... happy. And Cris went back to that guy in the shadows, because it was Edel and Rey now, not Edel and Cris.

He gave Rey a harder time than he should have out of jealousy—of course. And while he should have felt bad that he was doing this to Rey, he... didn't. Edel wanted it too, he could tell. The proof was in his hand. The proof was looking up at him, those beautiful brown eyes filled with love and adoration for him. Did Edel look at Rey that way? Maybe... in the beginning. Maybe then. But now he was looking at Cris.

Slowly, Cris leaned down to kiss him again, as he reached blindly for the bottle. He found it on its side—the other two were off in their own little world too. Cris breathed in shakily as he tipped the bottle over Edel's chest... like he needed an excuse to taste him. Like he needed to hide behind a game to let his tongue wander, to let his lips and teeth explore as he slowly slid down on Edel, so sweet from the champagne, so tender and sweet and unrequited and forbidden. For so long Cris denied what he knew to be true, what Rey kept seeing and what Jen kept nudging him towards.

Everyone else saw it.

Once upon a time, Edel had a crush on Cris. It was sort of his sexual awakening, not that he ever said anything. Cris was staunchly straight, so he said. Edel wasn't really a glutton for punishment. Logically, if his best friend was straight, then he would never feel the same way about Edel. And that was why when he tried to take the heat off his best friend because of Rey's insistent and persistent jealousy, he told him what he knew to be true.

It was his own fault. Edel didn't drink on purpose to kiss Cris but when it happened, he didn't mind it. And he felt something, when they kissed. But he thought Cris didn't remember most of it--except for how Edel puked on him afterward and such. The negative parts. The parts where he could tease him and make fun of him. They kissed, big deal. They were drunk and it could have been anyone.

Except not really, because nobody had stories of getting drunk and kissing Jaime. Edel didn't. And he didn't think Cris did, unless he just didn't share those stories with him.

The point was, when he was drunk and uninhibited, he kissed his best friend because of that old schoolboy crush. It was never Cris' fault that it happened, he told Rey. And Rey's feathers remained ruffled about the fact because... because maybe all this time he had a reason to be worried.

His gaze remained on Cris after the kiss, as champagne was poured across his chest and Cris followed the trail of sweet liquid. After a moment, Edel closed his eyes, feeling warm tongue over what felt like every inch of his chest. He could hardly breathe; he felt like he was holding his breath, as if he would wake from a dream if he took in a real and proper breath.

Without even really thinking, his hand was over Cris' head, nudging him downward.

The champagne cut rivulets all down Edel's chest and Cris was meticulous about following each one up and down, tasting everything between that soft area just at the base of his graceful throat to the firm planes of his chest, down to the pert dark nipples and of course—the abs. The pride and joy of any man with a decent body. Abs were abs, really, but being Edel's abs, Cris paid them due attention. He worshipped Edel's body even after the champagne was all gone, and there was nothing left to hide behind. No excuses. No games.

The day before when he joked about wanting to suck one dick, he was also telling a half-truth. In those tortured moments when he laid in bed touching himself to relieve the ache, he thought about one person—one dick. Of course he memorized Edel's body, since he had so many opportunities to do it. They used to be naked all the damn time together, it was hard not to notice a freckle here, a mole there, a beauty mark, a bruise, a scar.

Cris' tongue laved across the funny little tattoos that dotted Edel's body. Connect the dots. He played a game as he criss-crossed Edel's chest, heeding that push down but taking it at his own pace. If this was the one time he got to suck a dick, he wanted to make it count. Briefly he went back up to kiss Edel again, uncontrollably fond of him, helplessly in love with him. He kissed that beauty mark under Edel's eye with a soft smile, then slid all the way down.

But once he got there... the reality of the moment sank in. His mouth went suddenly dry but he wanted it too. He wanted it more than he thought he would. Slowly he opened his mouth and at first, maybe stupidly, he licked it. Just the tip. Salty, sweet. Something in-between, a different taste and texture. Then, more boldly, he took it in and let his head sink down as far as it would go before his gag reflex kicked in and he had to lift his head again.

Too drunk to be ashamed of his lack of experience—and enthusiasm making up for some of that inexperience hopefully—he grasped Edel with one hand and stroked. How did Jen do it? There were things she did that he liked, so he tried to replicate them with Edel, swirling his tongue over the head, then taking him in in shorter bursts so as not to get overwhelmed. Deep throating was out though. Definitely, definitely out.

Shit. Cris was really spoiling him with attention. Champagne slithered over his skin and following it came Cris' tongue, lips, teeth. God, he could really use everything at his disposal, couldn't he? His skin felt like it was on fire, like every nerve reacted to the smallest ministrations. Being drunk helped, too. He was in that state where everything floated and he felt good and mindless and even content.

His gaze flicked up, past the funny rainbow--which he smiled at--and up at the sky above. Puffy white clouds in a beautiful blue sky seemed to move, blown away on the gentle breeze that ruffled his hair and tickled his nose and cooled the places where warm tongue had once been.

Attention was once more on Cris as he kissed him and he stroked the back of his head, his neck, down his shoulder. Briefly, his eyes closed as Cris kissed somewhere by his eye. He let out a soft laugh. But when their eyes met and Cris smiled at him, he smiled back. Wrong, a part of him screamed. Right, whispered the rest of him, lulled by the sounds of the peaceful lake around the, and that smile. It had devastated so many people, he knew. So many people fell victim to that smile and that charm. Cris could really turn it on when he chose to.

And all this time, Edel said he was immune to it. Hah...

His gaze dropped down, eyes widening slightly. Oh? Oh... he was... he was really doing it. Edel sucked in a breath, eyes closing as he bit his lip to keep from making any embarrassing sounds. Usually, when somebody went down on him, they didn't... do... that. Lick like that. Edel shivered and his knees rose up slightly as his legs parted for him, toes curling in. Nobody could have called Cris an expert. But he was definitely making up for it in... something. A for effort. Did it even matter if it wasn't expert? Because it was doing what it was meant to; it was turning him on.

Edel stroked Cris' hair. One dick, Cris said. Edel almost laughed at it now but he was too breathless to laugh. Who knew that one dick would end up being his?

At some point in his enthusiastic blow job, Cris heard a distant, low splash. He wasn't actually paying attention to anything or anybody aside from Edel and from the job before him, so his brain registered it as an interesting but irrelevant noise. Maybe Hanale and Kylar had slipped off the float at that point to give them privacy. Or maybe they were still there watching; Cris didn't care. The drunk part of his brain told him he didn't care and he believed it.

Was it telling that he was enjoying himself a little more than he ought to have? Some guys claimed up, down, left, right and sideways that they would never be caught dead sucking dicks but... it was only one dick. Cris wasn't much interested in sucking other dicks, truth be told; he also wasn't swimming in so many of them that he felt like he could have his pick of them. One was enough for a first-time test run.

Briefly he glanced up, both to catch his breath and to see how Edel was doing. He grinned and slipped a hand up over Edel's stomach, stroking firm lines up and down. What now? Did he keep blowing him? Cris didn't mind. He felt like he was doing pretty damn good for his first time. Not that he had anyone he could brag about this to, but... Edel was hard. That meant he did well.

Cris' head dipped again and he bobbed it around Edel a few more times, humming softly to himself. Thinking. Thinking. What next? His hand slid down over the jut of a hip, over Edel's thighs. Now he was just playing, exploring with his tongue and lips. There was a terrible pressure building that had to go somewhere though, and eventually he had to reach down with that hand to touch himself. Before he exploded.

Edel heard the splash, too. He turned his head to see Kylar in the water and laughing but he was definitely turning away from the two of them, saying something to Hanale that Edel didn't hear. Should he be more embarrassed? Edel felt slightly... yes, slightly embarrassed. But not enough to tell Cris to stop. It was worse to stop in the middle than to just... finish.

And he was so close. So close. It was all pent up. That energy, that feeling, that pressure. Eventually, it had to go somewhere. Close as he was, it didn't even take all that much. Just that--that humming. The sensation, the vibration, the velvet heat of his mouth, the swirl of that tongue... Edel raised a hand to his own chest, twisting and toying with a pert nipple. Then he arched his back and his ass clenched hard. The hand that was in Cris' hair, grasped at it but his hair wasn't long enough to properly get a hold of.

Closing his eyes, he let the ecstasy wash over him. And when he opened his eyes, he could see Cris had reached down to grasp himself. Edel shifted slightly then slid his hand over Cris' hand.

"...let me."

And then his hand was on him, palm and fingers, thumb over the tip to tease and toy with him before he stroked him. He'd never been with Cris before, not like this. But he did what he liked; not too hard, not too gentle, with a deft hand and a twist of the wrist.

Wow.

Cris was kind of awed—by his own power. By the power of his mouth to make Edel cum like that, arching off the float, his body a beautiful, perfect curve. He didn't think he could forget the sight if he wanted; it was kind of burned into his brain in excruciating detail. Everything was crystal clear. The glint of sunlight off of Edel's earring, the way his hair curled and looped, the shimmer and sheen of dewy skin, that... look of bliss on his face.

Shit. If he wasn't already hard, he was close to bursting now. Without knowing how, he swallowed and the taste was kind of foreign in his mouth. Strange. But swallowing a few more times cleared it, and then—ah. Cris wasn't nearly so stingy with being vocal about his pleasure. He moaned into the clear, pretty skies as he bucked into Edel's hand.

"Just like that... yes..." A string of encouragement followed as he slid onto his back with a half-drunk grin. Yesss... just like that. Fuck. Edel knew how to touch him just right. Did he practice on Rey? Hm. Don't think about Rey—definitely keep that guy out of his mind. Cris grabbed the back of Edel's head and pulled at him, kissing him hungrily as his body tensed. He shivered; it felt so damn good. The sun, the breeze, the hand on him. Edel's hand on him like a wet dream come true.

It didn't take long for him to lose it too, and with a wanton moan of Edel's name, right into his ear. His labored breathing moved a few curls and mindlessly he kissed the side of Edel's head. Cris didn't know how it was possible to feel this good—it was like he'd been holding it in for... years. Since the first time he looked at Edel and felt that throb in his chest. He'd been holding these feelings in for so long and finally he had found an outlet for them.

Well, shit, fuck. The way Cris moaned his name right into his ear sent shivers all down his arms and the back of his neck. And it felt like it was getting to him again, heat forming in his groin all over again. How the hell did Cris manage to do that? Fuck.

Even after they had both been spent, Edel felt like he was still on fire, inside and out. Did his skin feel hot to the touch when Cris touched him, when he kissed him? Slowly, he let his eyes close in contentment, trying to catch his lost breath. This... wasn't what he expected. And then he had to push that away; did he expect this? Something like this?

Maybe.

Maybe sometimes.

But they were drunk. Tipsy, really. Not drunk enough to forget what happened. So tipsy though. The smallest spike of guilt ran through his chest. It turned out that Rey had every reason to be worried then, didn't he? And this... was more than drunk kisses.

Yet he couldn't find himself to regret it. At least, not in the moment, not basking in the afterglow, lying there in that inflatable rainbow, feeling mostly satiated and... happy.

He kept parting his lips, to speak. But he didn't know what to say when he did and so he ended up sighing and closing his mouth. Was there anything to say about this? It wasn't as if this would become a regular thing. Cris was adamant about marrying his sweetheart. Edel had Rey.

But as the golden warmth of the afterglow began to dissipate and the sky began to change from the afternoon sunshine to dusk, he shivered.

"...are you getting cold?" he asked after what felt like a year of saying nothing of substance.

Maybe he did that on purpose. Moaning Edel's name into his ear. It made what they did so much more intimate than if he just groaned nonsense... And he did want Edel to remember this moment, subconsciously, so the alcohol helped liberate his desires. With no inhibitions it was easy to do what he wanted. Cling to Edel. Kiss him, touch him, lick him, nuzzle him.

Long after the high of orgasm faded, Cris was still buzzing. His head lolled gently against the top of Edel's shoulder and he kept looking over when he saw movement out of the corner of his eyes but Edel didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. Their actions said it all.

It felt like alcohol and euphoria had replaced all the blood in his veins. For the first time in almost a year he felt happy and content. His body laying side-by-side with Edel's, everything was warm. Hot. Inside his chest, it was burning, the same way Edel's skin burned against his earlier when they were pressed together.

Doing this with Edel scratched the itch but... only slightly. Briefly. It wasn't enough.

"...no." Still hot. Cris pressed a hand to his own chest; burning. He reached over to touch Edel's, over his heart. Burning. But it was getting dark and they couldn't actually stay here overnight... "Let's go back inside?" He was already sitting up, though... only to grab the booze and to take another pull from the bottle. "I need something stronger..."

"Back inside?" Edel laughed as he wobbled up to a sitting position, leaning against Cris as his head swirled dangerously for a moment. The fact that they were on a none-too-stable float didn't help the sensation. It made him feel like he was about to fall off a ledge, hence the leaning. Don't let him fall.

His unfocused eyes sharpened and he focused in on the bottle that Cris picked up to drink from. Something stronger than... what was that shit again? Champagne? In his estimation, champagne was kinda weak. Kids could drink it.

"I haven't even been inside yet," he said, and he was referring to Cris' cabin but realized a beat too late that it sounded an awful lot like a double entendre. As drunk as he was on alcohol and what just happened, he couldn't help laughing at that. Terrible. That was terrible. For some reason, that made him slap Cris on the chest, as if it was his fault.

"You're terrible," he told him, even though it was his own words. "Let's go to your cabin." He didn't know what made him say it or why he winked like a goddamn flirt--he was goddamn flirting--when he added, "I want to be alone with you. Those two are so squeaky clean, aren't they?"

Unless they went and had sex in the lake. Then... he might change his opinion of them.

Ohohohohoo no he hadn't been inside yet. Edel certainly hadn't been inside yet. Cris caught that; he caught it straight away and he was laughing like a maniac even before Edel slapped him like it was his fault. Hey—they were best friends for a reason, all right? And that reason was that they connected on a much deeper level than anyone else. Even with dirty-sounding comments.

Especially with dirty-sounding comments.

"You're freaking terrible!" He sputtered, laughing into the next sip of champagne. The tiny bubbles shot up his nose, causing him to double over, snorting and laughing. But when he straightened, the subtleties seemed to have gone out the window. Alone with him? Cris eyed Edel, suddenly serious—but there was something meaningful in his gaze too. Something a little coy, maybe unspoken acknowledgement that he, too, wanted to be alone with Edel.

"They probably went home to fuck," he grinned as he tossed the champagne bottle aside. It had done its job, keeping him still floaty, keeping the barriers and inhibitions down. Cris grabbed onto Edel again for another passionate kiss, then pushed off. "C'mon let's get back to the cabin."

Er. How did they—he paddled uselessly for a second with his hands, shrugged and then leapt off the side, striking out for shore. It wasn't that far to the bank and soon he was up, shouting over his shoulder, "Race you back!" But by then he was off and running—payback for what Edel did to him earlier!

Yeah, they did. They were probably fucking right now. They certainly didn't seem to be anywhere around them anymore. When did they even leave? Probably when they realized that he and Cris were... fucking... in a way. A kind of way.

"Sh-shit..." His head spun wildly as Cris left--nothing to lean against--and he leaned forward, grasping onto the rubbery float bottom. The whole thing shook and wobbled as Cris took off in the water. Edel looked up, only to howl with laughter at just how badly Cris swam. He never was much of a swimmer.

Rolling off the side, Edel swam, probably only slightly gracefully with the alcohol in his system. But still, nothing like how hilarious Cris looked. He didn't even make it to shore before Cris ran off like a bastard, but at least his game didn't involve body shots. (Was that a good thing or a bad one...?)

Racing after him, Edel was quick on his feet once he was on nice, solid ground. Quickly, he caught up to Cris and... like an idiot, he leapt onto his back, naked as hell, legs wrapping around Cris as he clung to him.

"Not so fast."

What the fuck?! Cris was sure he was going to win! He was SURE he was going to WIN because all he did was WIN! (He didn't, assuredly not.) But somehow Edel caught up with those damn long legs of his, and long arms reaching out for him, and suddenly his knees were buckling and he was stumbling forward, looking even more drunk than he actually was. Quite a feat in and of itself.

"You bastard!" He could have dropped Edel but Edel was too precious a burden to be dumped. And the way his body pressed up against him was... nice. (Hot. His skin felt hot and in turn, it made Cris' skin light up too.) Too nice to get rid of. Cris stupidly carried him the last few steps up to the lake house—luckily he wasn't far from it or he might have really collapsed.

"I still win!" Cris huffed as he shifted Edel higher up on his back, for easier portage. His hand just happened to end up under his ass, and he didn't even bother to look innocent as he groped Edel shamelessly. Checking out the merchandise. That he'd been checking out since they were about fifteen.

Edel only laughed because they were both terrible and they were both bastards. He clung to Cris as he was hefted up higher. Felt weird when they were both naked, with his... parts all rubbing against Cris but not weird bad. Good enough to not even care that he had "lost." (Only Cris cared about winning, Edel was more of an imp when it came to games, not caring if he won or lost as long as he had fun.)

"You're in front, so..." He leaned his cheek against Cris' shoulder. Still clinging on with one arm, the other reached out for the door. "Keys?"

Did he even have keys on him? Because he was like... totally naked right now.

"Tell me you left it unlocked," he whispered. Otherwise... His gaze lazily moved toward the other cabin, with its lights on. The door was closed now, though. Those two were soooo at it right now.

"Damn straight!" Cris stuck out his foot to touch the door, just to cement his sham victory. Because—winning. It was kind of a thing with his dad. He had to prove that he was The Best Son. It seemed like that was the only thing his dad noticed, when he came home with top marks or when he won things. Then he got the attention he craved. Otherwise there was... not much. His dad was always so busy with work, with travel... and then getting himself into trouble.

Luckily alcohol blocked out thoughts of his fractured family and destroyed home life. Alcohol only left the good parts, like naked Edel on his back and naked Cris kicking open the door which was, indeed, unlocked. What did he care if thieves came in? There was nothing to steal. Cris had been living here alone, mostly off the liquor in the cabinets and some random takeout when he got sober enough to feel hungry.

"HYAH!" He shouted goofily as he did the kicking—the latch was loose already so it didn't take much—and then stumbled clumsily into the open-plan kitchen and entertaining area. The kitchen counter was littered with empty bottles, some standing, others on their sides, collecting dust. Cris grinned as he navigated around the long counter, through the doorway into the hall, and into the nearest guest bedroom.

This was going somewhere very dangerous now, but he couldn't see the warning signs. All he saw was—the bed. He laughed wildly as he threw Edel down onto it and eagerly scrambled after him, over him, onto him. "I have a seeecret~" Cris sang softly into his ear. "Wanna know what it is?"

No arguing with Cris there. Edel saw where it led when it came to Cris and winning. He had to be the winner, the top dog. Edel mostly didn't mind it. He was more mild mannered and didn't have that driving force to WIN. Besides... even drunk as he was, he thought his best friend deserved a win now, more than ever. Everything else was caving in on him, so what did it hurt to let Cris just have this?

The somber thoughts passed as Cris kicked down the door with a shout and Edel lowered his head against Cris' shoulder to muffle the sound of a laugh. All of this was ridiculous beyond belief but for some reason, that was what set him off. That kick. That shout. Even when he lifted his head, he was grinning like a fool, not even really looking at what they passed.

Where were they going, though? They were inside. Cris could put him down any time now. And just as he was going to say as much, they were entering one of the guest bedrooms. Edel remembered it; he stayed in this same one all those ages ago. Weird coincidence. He smiled, about to say something--again interrupted, only this time by being thrown down onto the bed. Oh? Cris was going to join him?

Edel looked up at him, turning his head slightly as Cris whispered into his ear, sending little tickles through his fuzzy, alcohol addled brain.

"You don't have any secrets from me," Edel said, quite confidently. "But I'll humor you. What's your big seeeecret?"

He had secrets. It was a pretty big secret, too, even if he was almost sure that the others knew. Jen knew—Cris saw it in her eyes, heard it in her tone when they discussed 'other partners.' She kept pointing out handsome men, kept bringing them back but the problem was they were all more into her than him. Maybe they lied to get into her bed, Cris didn't know—or they didn't find him attractive enough.

Jaime probably knew too. His jokes, that little glimmer in his eyes... The parties. He kept inviting strippers like he thought Cris would eventually be tempted by one of them. Joke was on him—Cris was tempted by all of them. And yet he held on to his 'secret' even though he was almost sure everybody knew and nobody cared. Jen knew they were going to end up together; she seemed more frustrated by his lies than by the thought of him turning to another man.

And Edel... He was one of the reasons Cris had secrets. Edel and Rey, whose sharp eyes saw what everyone else did and whose sharp tongue refused to be stilled. Cris would have given anything for him to just shut up about it, because it was true. The others assumed he wanted 'men' in general but Rey knew he wanted one most of all.

Grinning foolishly to himself, he flopped down against Edel, kicking his legs out against the cool sheets. Cris slept here instead of the larger master bedroom; it was less lonely here. "Wrong~ I do have a secret~" he sang into Edel's ear, and then nuzzled against the side of Edel's head and kissed it.

"I like men. And I really like you."

Edel was pretty sure that he knew Cris better than anybody and that he had no secrets, at least from him. After all, they did everything together forever, it felt like. Cris had been in his life for far longer than he'd been not in it, after all. More than half his life. They knew all the stupid shit and the bad shit and the good shit. They had so many inside jokes that half their conversations probably shut out everybody who hadn't also been there, like... Well, like Rey.

But Edel promised him that they were just friends. Super close friends. Like... brothers from different mothers. Whatever. Nothing to worry about. But, oh Rey... He was so insecure. So, so insecure. Sometimes it fatigued Edel to constantly have to baby-sit Rey's feelings. It was tiring to make sure he didn't inadvertently hurt him over some casual comment just because it was about Cris.

Secrets, though. He was still half laughing at the idea of secrets as Cris laid against him like he was his personal body pillow. Edel let out a pfft sound--secrets--and ran his fingers idly over Cris' naked back. Briefly, he closed his eyes as he was kissed on the temple. Nothing new; Edel kissed him like that all the time, too.

"So..." He was going to poke the secret out of Cris but Cris continued on and Edel's eyebrows shot up involuntarily. Men? And him? Edel blinked, trying to process. His mind decided to process this as a joke and he pushed Cris off him and half sat up, slapping him soundly on the chest and then just because he could, pinching a nipple while he was at it.

"Stop," he said through a laugh, because it was too ridiculous to be true, "stop fucking with me, you monster." He leaned in closer. "And look at me. I'm not Jen, tonto." He said it affectionately, though. Some people could make fun of his sexuality and it might sting but Cris, he was just messing around.

"EY!"

That wasn't half the reaction he thought his Big Reveal would garner but he was too drunk to care. In the moment things were funny. He liked men. He really liked Edel. All those years of insisting that he was NOT gay and that he was NOT into men sexually, emotionally or spiritually turned out to be a big joke! Because he was. All those things.

"I'm not a monster! Unless you mean... a sex monster!" He laughed too, because it was hard to feel things like shame or hurt—that his confession wasn't being taken seriously—when he was drunk. Cris looked up at him, grinning, nodding. "I know you're not Jen. Your breasts are... what? A-cup at best?" He reached up to tweak a nipple in return—just because.

"But." The hand stayed at Edel's chest, flattening out over it. Over his heart. "I like you."

"Is that all she is to you?" Edel asked in amusement. A pair of tits? He rubbed his tweaked nipple absently before dropping it and sighing. Then looking down at the palm over his heart. What did he even say to that? He was too drunk, really, to think too hard about it.

Edel slowly stretched an arm over the bed, leaning until he half fell onto his side, his head resting on his own arm. But his eyes were still on Cris and his other hand slid over the one that pressed against his chest.

"So you're a sex monster. A bisexual sex monster. And you like me?" He slid an ankle over Cris' with a smirk. "That can't be your secret. Everybody's already been saying that for... for years!" Yeah he couldn't think the exact time when it started but sure, people said it. Rey said it, anyway.

"No!" Defensive. He dropped his gaze but not his hand, and Edel held on to it anyway even after he laid back down. "She understands me. She's like my soul mate." Nobody knew him better than Jen--which made lying to her somewhat pointless, but he made a go of it anyway.

"Everybody made a joke out of it. But only I knew it was true. Well... and now you." Not like he wanted Edel to do anything with the knowledge. Honestly, he didn't know what he wanted. Maybe some more drinks...

"You didn't believe the jokes either."

...
Now the smile disappeared and Edel was the one dropping his gaze. Yeah, there were jokes aplenty and Edel didn't believe them. Should he have, though? When he looked back up, his brow was slightly furrowed.

"Yeah? Because I thought if there was any truth to it, you would've said so a long time ago."

They were best friends, after all. No secrets. Except apparently, there were secrets the whole time.

"Even if I said something, would it have made any difference?" He was trying to hang on to the high of being drunk but a nasty grain of reality was beginning to filter through the haze. Cris pulled his hand away and let it rest against his own stomach.

Somehow it was harder to tell Edel about his feelings, precisely because they were best friends. Some things were off-limits. Having a crush on his best friend seemed like one of them and as time went on, it grew harder to tell the truth.

Edel didn't try to hang onto Cris' hand as it slid away. It was a physical reaction to the words he was speaking. It was also very like Cris to say something important and then withdraw. He was always doing that, withdrawing when shit got too real. Edel rolled onto his stomach and folded his arms under his chin.

"Which part?"

Because Cris being bisexual? Didn't make any difference to Edel. Cris liking Edel. That made a difference. But that part, that part was new... wasn't it? Because if it wasn't... Edel swallowed hard, then lowered his gaze to the sheets beneath his arms. Fuck.

"The only part that matters." Cris ran a hand over his face, feeling haggard. He probably looked haggard too, like his soul was collapsing in on itself. It sure felt like it, now that his drunken stupor was beginning to fade.

As for Edel... He looked like the world was bottoming out from under him. Why? Because Cris was bisexual? That didn't make much sense, if it was the liking men part that bothered him. But the other part, the one that mattered...

"You know there was no way I could say anything to you back then. I mean. We were. We are best friends. It just felt like... something I needed to keep to myself. I don't know." He was never exactly bright.

Edel let out a sigh. And then a laugh. And then he dropped his head into his arms because it was funny and it wasn't funny at the same time. What was this shit? Life was so stupid sometimes. It didn't make any sense. When he turned his head, he left it resting on his arms, derisive.

"You should've said it then. You know, back when I had a foolish crush on you. When it made more sense."

Because now. Now it was all complicated. This was terrible timing. The worst timing.

"I love Rey. Remember Rey? Ay dios," he muttered to himself. "He wasn't crazy jealous this whole time. He's just not stupid."

Cris flopped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, not fully comprehending Edel's words. Back when he had a foolish crush on... you. Him. On Cris? Idly he scratched his side, not because it was itchy or anything. Something to do with his hand. The other one drummed against the mattress.

"Right." Rey. No, Rey wasn't stupid at all. In fact he was probably smarter than all of them combined. Except for maybe Jen, who saw the same things he did. Was that why they got along? Because they both knew what everyone else thought was a big joke was true?

Cris turned away, onto his side, with his back to Edel. There was no real way to... go forward with any of this. "So... then... this didn't happen. Right?"

"I mean..."

He wished they weren't sobering up right now. But it also didn't seem right to get up and start drinking just to escape the discomfort of the moment. All that would do was push back the inevitable and it seemed like they might have been doing that for a long time without even realizing it.

"But it did..."

Edel felt like a rat for it, too. Which he knew that he should but... Feeling that way didn't change the fact that things happened. After he started dating Rey, not before. All those times before were still acceptable because that was before. Now, though... Rey had every right to feeling the way he felt.

Plonking his face into the bed, he wanted to scream. But all he did was stay that way until his lungs burned for life and he had to lift his head to breathe again. Forcing himself to get up, he almost slapped Cris' ass--an old friendly go-to. Now he refrained and just said, "I'm taking a shower. And borrowing your shit because all my shit's at your neighbors' place."

"Well..."

No it did happen. It definitely happened and he remembered everything. Every moment, every shift of Edel's body, the way he felt, the way he tasted and sounded... Everything. Cris doubted even alchohol could wipe these memories, even if selfishly he wished he could rewind time and make sure none of it happened, just for his own continued peace of mind.

"Sure. Clothes are in that drawer." He kept his face away until Edel had gone and he heard the water running in the bathroom. Slowly, tiredly, Cris got up and pulled on a clean pair of underwear. Then he stumbled into the kitchen to find that last bottle of alcohol.

If he drank himself into a stupor... would he forget?

Only one way to find out...

Shit.

He knew Cris was kind of giving him an out when he said this never happened but Edel hated secrets. This was exactly why he hated them. When his first real boyfriend wanted to hide in the closet, Edel hated it. Hated hiding who he was, who his boyfriend was, who they were together. And he never wanted to go through that heartache again. Never again with closeted boys.

Lying to Rey would just make things worse because Edel would always know the truth. And if Rey couldn't handle the truth when he heard it--and he had every right to not handle it--then... Then they weren't going to make it as a couple. It would be worse, though, to hide what they did from him only to have it come back and bite him in the ass later, just to be happy and ignorant for a little longer.

Sighing heavily, Edel stepped out of the shower and clothed himself. He barely even looked at himself in the mirror. He was too ashamed. And his phone, it was with the neighbors, so he couldn't even get this over with and call Rey. It would have to wait until the morning. He couldn't tell if he was relieved or not. Mostly, he felt a sense of dread mixing around in his chest and stomach that wouldn't go away until things settled back into... something less chaotic inside his head.

Coming out of the bathroom, he peered back into the guest room and found Cris was no longer there.

"Cris?" he called, then louder, a little alarmed. "CRIS?"

"You know," Cris slurred to the two-thirds of tequila left in the bottle, "life's a bitch sometimes." He tilted the bottle towards his lips and this time almost all of it made it into his mouth! A prize for Cris! Brushing an irritated hand over his chest where some alcohol had splashed, he muttered to himself again, "Life's a bitch."

Secrets. They were meant to be kept secret. It was in the name—how did he fuck that one up?! And now everything was stupid and weird because what the hell did he think was going to happen here? That magically...

Well. Okay. If he had to be honest, he thought magically things would work out. Somehow. Jen would understand. Rey would fade into the obscurity from whence he came. Edel would reciprocate his feelings. Magical happy ending.

But Rey wasn't going to fade away was he? And Edel didn't reciprocate. He seemed almost annoyed by the revelation, as if it was a burden on him. Which it was. Cris must have been out of his mind to think that somehow his confession would change anything. Edel loved Rey. He said it with his own mouth. All the time. So... that really left Cris hanging out in the middle of nowhere, in limbo.

Jen would understand though, he had no doubt about that, and the knowledge only cemented her position in his mind. She was one in a million, that girl. Cris smiled to himself, a little twist of the lips, as he stood up. Edel was still in the shower, so he had plenty of time to get himself back down to the lake, to wade up to his chest into the lake and toast the vast body of water before him. He wiggled his toes under the water, barely feeling the chill that started to seep into his bones.

Another long pull from the bottle kept him nice and warm as he waded in a bit further, experimentally. He thought about it a lot these days. Walking into the deep. Letting the water close over his head and sweep away all his problems. But... he was kind of too chicken to do it, too. Or not drunk enough. Was he drunk enough now? He drank again and took another step forward, thrilled by the prospect of death—as much as he was at the same time terrified of it.

Where the hell was he?! Not in the living room or the kitchen. Not the other rooms. Not even the other bathroom. He was just... gone. Edel passed a window in his frantic search and saw with a nasty shock that somebody was walking into the lake like they could just walk along the bottom, take a stroll.

And it was, of course, Cris.

"CRIS!" Edel shouted as he burst outside, running down to the lake as fast as his long legs would carry him. And he was in the damned lake again--which was freezing cold--only this time he was bogged down by clothes.

He grabbed onto Cris, onto his arm, the one whose hand was holding a damned bottle of something.

"What the hell are you doing? Get out of here!"

Fish. Deeper in the lake there were fish swimming around; Cris never knew that. He might have tried to fish if he knew, since there was a pier here extending out quite far into the lake. Well, too late now. He dumped a little of the alcohol into the lake, whimsically asking the fish if they wanted some.

They didn't.

Somebody yelled his name out loud, a horrible frightened shout, and he turned to see Edel streaking for the lake like his hair was on fire. Before he knew what was happening, Edel had him by the arm and was yanking him back.

"Why would you swim fully dressed?" Cris asked stupidly as he stumbled, losing his footing slightly and dropping the bottle. "Ah shit! That was the last one!" He tried to grope for it with his other hand while resisting Edel.

"Who cares?" Edel said, although maybe he'd mourn the last of the alcohol later. Probably not. Every damn time he drank, he did something stupid and he should have known better. Part of him probably knew, though, what would happen if they were alone together with alcohol. No party around them, nothing to stop them from...

Edel fought Cris to attempt dragging him out of the lake.

"Are you trying to drown yourself?" Edel asked. "Too bad. I'm not letting you. Get your ass out of here now. Back in the cabin!"

Fighting in water was exhausting. Cris gave up eventually when the bottle got kicked away, and the alcohol spilled out into the lake. He let out an aggravated noise as his limbs stopped thrashing around, letting Edel drag him towards shore. Once he was on firmer footing, he shook Edel's hand off so that he could walk by himself.

"I'm not trying to drown myself," he said grumpily, hugging himself. As soon as the air hit his skin, he felt the cold acutely. "If I were, I'd have succeeded long before you got here!"

"Then what the hell were you doing out there?" Edel asked, stalking behind Cris. It was freaking freezing now. The water was like ice and the air didn't help. Neither did the clothes, sopping wet and sticking to his body, slopping and making an awful sound with every step. Goddamn it, Cris!

As soon as they were inside, he was struggling to get the clinging clothes off.

"Being drunk and in the water is a recipe for drowning!" he said as he wriggled his way out of the pants and kicked them sloppily aside (and nearly tripping in the process, since they wanted to cling to his ankle until the very end).

"I was. Toasting. The lake." He looked back over his shoulder at Edel, frowning at his bedraggled state. Those were his clothes Edel were wearing, now ruined by lake water! Although it was also his fault Edel had to jump into the lake in them, to save him.

Back at the cabin, once again, they were both naked but this time there was no party atmosphere. Cris was sulky and drunk and Edel was rightfully indignant, dripping water everywhere and all over the floor. And there was no alcohol left, which made things a thousand times worse.

"It doesn't matter." Cris sat down at one of the tall stools at the kitchen counter, watching Edel struggle with his pants. "My life is gone. Vanished! Poof!"

"It is not."

Edel hadn't come here to let Cris throw himself a pity party. He had probably done enough of that by himself this whole time. Edel came here to make sure he didn't do something stupid. Like go wading into the lake while he was drunk. Like kill himself.

Edel didn't want to admit it but he was afraid the whole time, the whole way here, that he was going to be too late. That Cris would follow his father. But then, Cris was a winner. He had to be a winner. That was the problem though. Without money, without family, without anything to his name now, what was he but the opposite of a winner? Edel didn't think that, of course, but Cris was probably wallowing in self pity because he was no longer on top. No longer living the life he was so accustomed to.

But he could still win at things. Just because his father was selfish and stupid and mean didn't mean that Cris had to be. And he was still smart, good-looking, enterprising. Once he pulled himself out of this hole, he could be ten times the man his father was.

"You can build a better one." He grabbed a decorative blanket from the back of a chair and wrapped himself in it before he sat down next to Cris.

"It is," he said childishly, reverting back to that dumb back and forth they used to do. Is. Isn't. Is. Isn't. Isn't. Is. Damn. When they went too fast, Cris lost track—it was too easy to switch and get him to stumble over his own words, admitting defeat. For someone who claimed to win a lot, he lost most of the time.

This time was the last time. He did sit here for many days throwing heavy pity parties and drinking himself silly. Some mornings he woke up next to the toilet, stomach heaving, head pounding. The hangover cure was, of course, to drink more. Drink his problems away. Drink the alcohol away—evidenced by the bottles littering the countertop behind him.

Once Edel sat down next to him, he automatically rested his head against Edel's shoulder. Cris hugged him tight to share the warmth of the blanket, since he was too lazy to get one for himself. "Rebuild with what? I'm poorer than Rey right now. I'm hundreds of millions in debt, Edel. You don't even—my dad left so much debt, I can't even pay it off if I sold all my organs!"

"You're so full of shit," Edel said. But he didn't know the numbers as well as Cris would know them. Hundreds of millions of dollars in debt? For his father's crimes? It hardly seemed fair but that was the world, wasn't it? The sons paying for the sins of the father, as they said.

"If you sold all your organs, you'd be too dead to care about your debt." And he turned to Cris and looked him straight dead in the eye. "And you're not going to die to escape it."

Cris didn't want to believe it either, when he first heard the news. Hundreds of millions. Squandered. Gambled away on shady deals and all his father had to show for it was a criminal record a mile long and a rope from which to hang by. Cris didn't understand all of it but from what he gathered, his father embezzled money to make investments that never panned out. And the people whose money he stole naturally took everything there was to make up for the debt. The assets Cris' father had weren't nearly enough to pay off his debts and so they fell onto Cris' head.

He wished he was exaggerating but he wasn't. He really wasn't. Cris looked Edel back, right in the eyes, and sighed. "There's really no point in living, Edel. What kind of life am I going to have? I can't..." He almost said 'live like a poor person' but had the decency not to. But he thought it.

Edel reached out and touched Cris' cheek. It was still a little cold from being outside but Edel's hand was warm from the blanket. Part of him really hoped that Cris was just being facetious but part of him sympathized with his position. Edel might not have done the same in his shoes but he could see why Cris did. Running away and hiding somewhere they couldn't find him--the debtors, the people yammering for their money, the red letters, and the lack of money and support from his own mother.

"You're still going to have your life. You'll marry Jen and find a way to make loads of money by inventing something ridiculous that everybody will want and you'll have an entire empire under your own name."

He gave Cris' chin an affectionate squeeze before lowering his hand.

"And if not, we can fuck off to another country under assumed names and live undercover."

Stuff like this—the cheek touching—was the reason why Cris couldn't get over his feelings for Edel. Even now it lingered in the back of his mind, their closeness and their familiarity. Being around Edel was like slipping into a warm bath (which, by the way, would have been great right about now). It felt like easing into a fond embrace.

He nuzzled Edel's hand gently, glad for his presence. Cris had misgivings about telling him where he was but now he was glad that he had a friend here. A real friend. Someone not afraid to tell him when he was being an idiot, but also someone who did it out of a genuine desire to see him succeed—to see him win.

"I think you swallowed too much lake water," he laughed, at the thought of him inventing anything. Marrying Jen, sure. But Jen's inheritance would only cover a part of the debt! Cris resumed leaning into him, shaking his head.

"We? Who is we?"

No, he didn't swallow any lake water, thank you! Edel made a slight face to express how he felt about that comment but then he realized a second later that his use of the word we outed him. We, he said. We'll run away. As if it was a given that it would be the two of them against the world.

Shrugging to make it less poignant than it was, Edel said, "You know, us. BFFs. Besides, you think I'm gonna let you have all the fun on your own?"

But really, he would just worry. If Cris disappeared again...

You, me, Jen and Rey and maybe Jaime--that was the correct answer to who 'we' was. 'We' should have been the entire group because.. that was how it was. They were like a pack and they stuck together. Some people might have added 'pack of wolves' but generally they were pretty inseparable even if they didn't always all get along.

Cris was taken aback when the answer only included them. The two people presently in the room. He lowered his chin onto Edel's shoulder, mulling it over. He wasn't sure how much fun running off with no money was but... Money wasn't everything after all. Just most things. But not all things.

"Why don't we run away right now then?"

Edel wasn't including Rey because in his heart of hearts, he had a feeling how things were going to go down when he learned what happened here. Even if they didn't go all the way, there was certainly something there, something that happened, something that shouldn't have happened. But it did and Rey was so jealous before, when Edel didn't think it was all that reasonable to keep harping on it. Now, though?

As for Jen, he didn't know why he had forgotten her. Edel had no ill will toward her and never did. Of course she should have been included.

At Cris' words, though, he let out a short laugh. Still, he humored him enough to ask, "Where? It can't be somewhere people would think to look, like the Swiss Alps." He smirked. "What do you think about Alaska?"

No Jen...

Honestly Cris had a hard time on his own without her. He got used to being taken care of, being told what to do--she was always right though, so it was in his best interests to always listen to her. She... was more like a mother than a girlfriend sometimes. That probably wasn't a good thing, was it?

But Cris was comfortable with her and he was happy. In his simple mind, those two things were enough. Now, though... maybe not. Maybe it wasn't enough to be simply content. He smiled at the side of Edel's throat. Alaska? Shit. They'd probably die.

"Okay," he said anyway because realistically this wasn't happening. Somehow that made his heart a little sore. "Anywhere. If it's just us. Anywhere."

"Anywhere?" Edel repeated. Even Alaska? Really, he'd thrown it out there because Alaska wasn't a popular destination for people like Cris or his family. It felt like one of the last places on earth that somebody might look for him. But Alaska could be cool. Edel liked new traveling, he liked new places, new cultures. He wasn't so sure about Cris, though.

"Even the jungles of South America?" he joked. "Or a tiny Nigerian village?"

Cris nodded. Anywhere. If Edel was there, it would be bearable at the very least. Of course it wouldn't be like taking a cruise or traveling through Europe, but those things weren't fun without Edel either.

These highly unattractive choices though... Nigeria. The Amazon jungle... Cris frowned at him. "Even hell. I'd go to hell with you." There, let Edel trump that one!

Edel gently stroked Cris' hair, musing on the idea of actually running away. It would be a shitty thing for him to do but he knew deep down that if it ended up being what Cris did, Edel would be right there to help. That was just... the sort of friend that he was. Cris needed him so he was there.

And he was especially there because he didn't feel like Cris was... okay. He was breaking. Otherwise that secret of his never would have come out. He must have held onto it for so long. But now he couldn't keep it all together. He was coming apart. Somebody had to stay and stitch back those holes. It should have been Jen, he knew. But he wasn't sorry it was him.

"We're not going to hell," Edel said, a tiny shiver of fear creeping down his spine. Edel had been raised in a catholic home. Despite his questions and his doubts, a part of him still believed in what he'd been taught. And he didn't like the idea of the two of them going to hell. Besides, they had never done anything THAT bad.

"C'mon. Let's go watch over-the-top dramas until we pass out."

"I highly doubt that." Cris was a pessimist; he knew he wasn't going up when he died. He'd head straight down. Which was fine because at this rate, hell would be preferable and anyway he was living in a kind of private hell already, hidden away here in the absolute middle of nowhere all by himself.

Part of him was having second thoughts about asking Edel to come down here, too. What about his current situation felt like it was wise to drag his best friend into this? If things went South, Edel might get caught in the cross-fire too. And his life was going pretty well; he had a boyfriend, he was on his way to a promising career.

Guilt made him lower his gaze. "Yeah," he said absently, not moving. What sucked about caring for someone was that it was impossible to be purely selfish. He wished he could be—then it'd be easy to hang on to Edel and let him try to fix things. And he would. Edel was loyal like that. But for all of his faults, Cris wasn't that kind of an asshole.

He pulled back finally, though one arm remained around Edel's waist. "We're not really running away, right? I mean. We can't. You have to go back home."

Well, that was no from him, apparently. Cris didn't want to rot his brain away until he fell asleep. He was caught up in some cycle of thinking that the alcohol he found clearly did nothing to help. Edel was sobering up after having a shower and then dunking himself in cold lake water but he was also tired, a little jet lagged, and emotionally worn thin. He could fall asleep at any moment as long as he had five minutes of warmth and comfort.

Cris, not so much. His mind was going all over the place and it was hard for Edel in his current state to keep up. Mostly... he thought the idea of running away was a joke but Cris was speaking seriously now. As if he thought Edel was planning their escape, to run away forever, for real.

"I mean... I would if it was that serious," he said slowly. "But it's not... is it?"

"Is it?" Cris echoed faintly, frowning. Even the thought was... strange. It wasn't something he seriously contemplated, ever. He thought about it at odd moments but the reality of Rey and Jen always crashed through his daydreams. The idea of them being serious enough to run away together could only be considered when he was dead drunk.

"I guess..." He leaned closer and the tip of his nose brushed Edel's. This close, he could count eyelashes. "Maybe..." Well anything was possible, it only depended on how much of their lives they wanted to upheave. And they'd already fucked up a lot today, out on the lake with the neighbors, with their significant others, with each other.

His hand slid up Edel's back, to the nape of his neck. Cris' lips brushed his tentatively, nothing like the impassioned, drunken kisses from earlier. He was still drunk but weirdly, also clear about his own feelings. Like the barriers that were usually up came down with all the shots and champagne and tequila he had in his veins.

"Maybe... what...?"

Yes, maybe what? Maybe yes, maybe no? Just maybe? He wasn't sure what Cris was trying to get across. Cris might not even know. Or he could. Because Edel felt the hand moving up his back and he had a feeling where it was going to stop. And it stopped there. Edel didn't move, even though he knew where this was going. He had time enough to stop it but he didn't. He let Cris' lips brush his, not a question but... something. Something something.

Edel's eyes closed as he kissed Cris back, even though he knew he shouldn't. Shouldn't kiss him back, shouldn't close his eyes, shouldn't even have let Cris kiss him in the first place. But they were already here and there was just enough of that alcohol in his system to keep him from overthinking. Before he knew it, he was touching Cris' face, his cheek, his jaw.

Maybe maybe.

Maybe Edel didn't say he had feelings for Cris and maybe he kept insisting he loved Rey, but people who didn't have feelings for their best friend and people who loved someone else didn't... kiss back. A bunch of times. And sure as hell they didn't let someone they didn't have feelings for do what Cris did to him out on the lake.

Maybe all of those little touches, the fond hugs, the clinging and physicality and skinship they had with each other meant a lot more than they realized. Everyone else saw them and thought they were so gay together. It became a joke because they dated other people and Cris insisted he was straight, but inside they both knew, didn't they? That despite loving other people, in their heart of hearts they had feelings for each other?

Edel wouldn't kiss him like that if he didn't feel something. Drunk Cris was so sure of that. He leaned closer so that his chilled body could share some of Edel's heat and his other hand came up too, cupping Edel's jaw. Even when the kiss broke, his hand was there, holding him close. "Does this make us terrible people?"

What a question. Edel took in a deep breath and then looked away on a sigh, before lowering his gaze to the floor. Did this make them terrible people? Edel felt like yes, he was a garbage person right now. If Rey could see them now, it would break his heart in so many pieces. And Edel cared--he did care what he thought. He loved him. They moved in together, they were serious.

So what the hell was he doing right now? What had he done all those other times? Back then, he was free to do what he wanted. Now, though...

Well, he was still free to do what he wanted, it just made him a garbage person. He wondered if Cris was having similar thoughts about Jen. But then, those two had a different kind of relationship than Rey and Edel. Not to mention, they were just vastly different people when it came to sex.

"Yes," he said after a moment. He looked back up at Cris. "But I guess I..." He didn't even want to finish that sentence. It made him sound even worse.

"You what? C'mon it's too late to start holding things back now!"

Cris didn't know what was going on anymore between them. There used to be some lingering feelings, sure. Occasionally he felt it more acutely than usual but it was nothing he couldn't handle. Back in Spain, it felt like his life was simpler. But then with his dad's suicide and the debt and everything, his life fell apart and so did every barrier he'd been erecting to keep those feelings inside.

Shit. Was that all it took for him to get serious about his 'secret'? His whole life going down the garbage chute? Cris lowered his chin onto Edel's shoulder again, still holding on to him for dear life.

"I..."

He didn't even want to say it aloud. Really, he was a terrible person. They both kind of were? But Edel felt like he was definitely the worst between the two of them. Jen probably wouldn't be hurt or angry about this. At least, not for long. Cris and Jen had an understanding about other partners. Rey and Edel... didn't.

"I feel like..." A rat. That wasn't what he wanted to say, though. It was easier to admit to his terribleness when Cris wasn't looking right at him, though, so he was relieved when he rested his chin on his shoulder.

"I guess I feel like I already fucked everything up... there's no going back..."

Huh... So Edel was still going to tell Rey the truth? That seemed self-destructive when Cris was more than willing to keep their little tryst a secret. He thought in silence for a moment. "Just don't tell him. This didn't happen. You don't have to feel bad, we never had sex. It was just... drunk stuff."

Whatever Rey didn't see with his own eyes couldn't hurt him and if Edel was so afraid to lose him, then... "It's not a big deal. Not if there's no feelings involved. Right?" Because Edel was in love with Rey and he felt so bad about doing this to him. His feelings sided with Rey, so what they did didn't have to count.

It sucked though. Because there were feelings on Cris' end, but he could just. Shove them back down. Yeah...

"Half the lake saw us, Cris," Edel said. There was no hiding it. Somebody who might have just looked out their window could have seen something. The neighbors were right next to them when it started--they saw enough to know what happened or to figure it out. Edel wasn't even drunk enough to let something like that go so easily. He wasn't blackout, out-of-his-mind drunk. He'd remember it in the morning and he certainly remembered it now that he was mostly sober.

Being sober with this kind of thing sucked, too. All he could feel was the weight of it. Even though he wouldn't see Rey face-to-face for maybe a week or two, depending on how long he stayed here with Cris, eventually they would be face-to-face. How could Edel lie straight to his face?

"It's a big deal." He lowered his head. Did he even have to explain why?

Cris waved a hand. So what if half the lake saw them. Half of Spain didn't see them--they didn't even live here! If the neighbors popped their heads out and saw a guy blowing another guy on a rainbow floatie out on the lake, big deal! It was a rainbow float, that said it all.

But that was drunk Cris' line of thinking. Sober Cris was never leaving the lake house again. He would rather die than let anyone know his carefully guarded secret! That was no longer a secret, but still. Still.

Maybe because he had been lying for so long about his sexuality, the idea of lying outright about their tryst didn't seem like a big deal to him. He understood where Edel was coming from but if it were him, he probably would have lied straight to Jen's face. Good thing she was understanding about all of this but... Rey wasn't Jen. Too bad.

"Umm." Edel's head dropped but Cris' gaze lifted. "What?" His muddy thoughts swirled sluggishly around in his tired brain. "It's a big deal?" Cris had to think that one through very hard for a very long moment.

"There... are feelings?"

God, he couldn't believe that Cris even had to ask at this point. Were there feelings? Edel had a crush on him for a while. Time, he thought, washed that away. They were best friends and basically brothers and at a certain point, he knew that was all they would be. It was kind of a relief, actually, with Jen coming along and taking up Cris' attention. Finally, he could stop thinking about what could never be and he could focus on getting on with his life.

And he did. He did so well. There were boyfriends and whirlwind romances. Edel learned more about himself and love that way than he ever would have if he just mooned around, yearning for somebody that he would never have. And aside from some drunken trysts, that was how it was.

Yet now they were here. And Edel wished Cris hadn't opened up this box, that he hadn't admitted to liking him. If he liked guys, that was one thing. But admitting to liking him... that was the problem.

Instead of answering, Edel extricated himself from Cris and the blanket. Did he really have to answer, anyway? Cris knew. He knew. Edel ran a hand over his face.

"...I'm going to bed. Now isn't the time to be thinking about this." Or talking about it. Shit, they had all week to talk about it.

Cris was left there holding the blanket, staring at the stool where Edel sat. He vaguely nodded to let Edel know that he heard him but--the words didn't sink in. And by the time they did, Edel had already left because now wasn't the time to be thinking about this.

This?

This--these feelings?

He didn't move from his spot and kept holding on to the blanket, at a total loss for words. It was like learning that Santa Claus wasn't real all over again. That bottoming out in his stomach, the heaviness in his heart. The... disappointment. But worse. Oh, so much worse.

What would have happened if he'd confessed those feelings to Edel a long time ago? Was it better that he didn't? Cris wouldn't trade in their friendship for anything but he couldn't stop thinking about it, the possibilities, what could have been. Was it too late? Edel was gone--he didn't want to think about it.

What now though? It seemed like an easy thing to say that if two people had feelings for one another, they should be together but... Rey and Jen. Complications. Cris' situation. Complications. Slowly he stood up but he didn't go into one of the bedrooms. Instead he curled up on the couch and covered himself with the blanket and stared out onto the darkened lake, visible through the glass balcony doors.

What if? His brain wouldn't shut off. What if he'd said something instead of hiding his feelings?