JONNY is in love with Chris. After a bit, Chris realizes he's in love with Jonny. But he doesn't realize that Jonny keeps dropping hints.
It's a slash fic!
---
Christopher's POV
Furniture. It all started with furniture. That's how it always starts, isn't it? Whether it's a sofa- or couch, if you prefer- arm chair, not-arm chair, table of various sorts, or even maybe a bean bag chair, it all seems to revolve around them. Life, that is. Life revolves around furniture. And let's not forget beds. Life is even created in beds, you know.
So we weren't sitting in a bed, but we were sitting on a bench, which at least starts with the same first two letters. Jonathan and I, sitting on a bench, conversing. That's how it started. What does it have to do with furniture? Well, if we hadn't been sitting on a bench, we'd have been sitting in the grass, and maybe then things would have gone differently.
But that didn't happen. This, on the other hand, did. Bench-sitting, and talking. In a park, where it was beautiful, with lots of trees surrounding us. Jonny always liked trees, for some reason. That's why we spent so much time there. I'm not sure how relevant that is, though, so I think I'll stop being boring and start telling the story.
"Is it true?" Jonny asked, quite out of the blue. I looked at him in mild surprise, before mindlessly mimicking his vague question.
"Is it true?"
"Is it true that you... I don't know," he sighed.
"If you don't know, why are you asking?"
"Um... no reason." He looked up to his right, trying to find something of interest in the sky or a tree so that he could escape from the awkward position he'd placed himself in. It wasn't going to work, though.
"I can tell you want an answer. What's so embarrassing about whatever question you had that you can't even ask it? Especially if it's something about me?"
"If I told you what was so embarrassing, then I might as well just ask the bloody question."
"Then ask it!"
"I can't."
"Because...?"
"Because... I'm not sure I want to know the answer."
"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'll give you the answer, and you don't even have to ask the question. Only on Thursdays. Does that satisfy you?"
"That's a very... sad... answer... I think... for me."
"What makes it sad?"
"Just one day of the week?"
"Yes, just Thursdays, though the occasional Tuesday does pop in there every now and then. Of course, this would all make much more sense if I knew what we were talking about."
"We're talking about... things... that involve... other things."
"Oh! I get it now."
"Really?" he asked in slight disbelief.
"No. Why... How would I get whatever you're talking about from that? That's like me saying... I don't know, 'Jon, remember that one night of that year, where we talked about that one thing and it was funny, even though that thing that actually happened was not so funny?' If I said that, you wouldn't know what I was talking about, would you?"
"Actually, I do remember that. Poor Guy."
"It was Guy? I thought it was Will."
"No, it was Guy. I remember because I'd been... oh." He quickly turned his head, this time searching the ground for a spot of interest.
"Oh?"
"It actually had something to do with all of this."
"All of what?" His vague and deflecting answers were starting to annoy me just a tad bit.
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you. Which would be so counterproductive."
"Ah, see, there's at least a little bit of information. So, this topic we're discussing has something to do with me needing to be alive, yeah?"
"Very much so."
"Does it also have to do with you being alive?"
"I would think yes."
"Does it have to do with us being alive together?"
"T-together?" His eyes denoted a tiny sense of panic, it seemed. Confusing, yes, but I was at least getting some answers.
"We both have to be alive at the same time, that sort of thing."
And somehow with a straight face he replied, "Unless you're into necrophilia. Or unless I am... but I'm not." Then he twisted his face in an expression of slight disgust. "You're not either, right?"
"No." He breathed a sigh of what appeared to be relief.
"That's good."
"What does dead-people sex have to do with this?"
"No, we've just established that it has nothing to do with this, remember?"
"... You've lost me." Though he didn't really look all that jolly at the time, any ounce of happiness he did have seemed to fade away. All that was left was a sad looking 32-year-old man. It was really, well, sad.
"That's what I'm afraid of."
Furniture. It all started with furniture. That's how it always starts, isn't it? Whether it's a sofa- or couch, if you prefer- arm chair, not-arm chair, table of various sorts, or even maybe a bean bag chair, it all seems to revolve around them. Life, that is. Life revolves around furniture. And let's not forget beds. Life is even created in beds, you know.
So we weren't sitting in a bed, but we were sitting on a bench, which at least starts with the same first two letters. Jonathan and I, sitting on a bench, conversing. That's how it started. What does it have to do with furniture? Well, if we hadn't been sitting on a bench, we'd have been sitting in the grass, and maybe then things would have gone differently.
But that didn't happen. This, on the other hand, did. Bench-sitting, and talking. In a park, where it was beautiful, with lots of trees surrounding us. Jonny always liked trees, for some reason. That's why we spent so much time there. I'm not sure how relevant that is, though, so I think I'll stop being boring and start telling the story.
"Is it true?" Jonny asked, quite out of the blue. I looked at him in mild surprise, before mindlessly mimicking his vague question.
"Is it true?"
"Is it true that you... I don't know," he sighed.
"If you don't know, why are you asking?"
"Um... no reason." He looked up to his right, trying to find something of interest in the sky or a tree so that he could escape from the awkward position he'd placed himself in. It wasn't going to work, though.
"I can tell you want an answer. What's so embarrassing about whatever question you had that you can't even ask it? Especially if it's something about me?"
"If I told you what was so embarrassing, then I might as well just ask the bloody question."
"Then ask it!"
"I can't."
"Because...?"
"Because... I'm not sure I want to know the answer."
"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'll give you the answer, and you don't even have to ask the question. Only on Thursdays. Does that satisfy you?"
"That's a very... sad... answer... I think... for me."
"What makes it sad?"
"Just one day of the week?"
"Yes, just Thursdays, though the occasional Tuesday does pop in there every now and then. Of course, this would all make much more sense if I knew what we were talking about."
"We're talking about... things... that involve... other things."
"Oh! I get it now."
"Really?" he asked in slight disbelief.
"No. Why... How would I get whatever you're talking about from that? That's like me saying... I don't know, 'Jon, remember that one night of that year, where we talked about that one thing and it was funny, even though that thing that actually happened was not so funny?' If I said that, you wouldn't know what I was talking about, would you?"
"Actually, I do remember that. Poor Guy."
"It was Guy? I thought it was Will."
"No, it was Guy. I remember because I'd been... oh." He quickly turned his head, this time searching the ground for a spot of interest.
"Oh?"
"It actually had something to do with all of this."
"All of what?" His vague and deflecting answers were starting to annoy me just a tad bit.
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you. Which would be so counterproductive."
"Ah, see, there's at least a little bit of information. So, this topic we're discussing has something to do with me needing to be alive, yeah?"
"Very much so."
"Does it also have to do with you being alive?"
"I would think yes."
"Does it have to do with us being alive together?"
"T-together?" His eyes denoted a tiny sense of panic, it seemed. Confusing, yes, but I was at least getting some answers.
"We both have to be alive at the same time, that sort of thing."
And somehow with a straight face he replied, "Unless you're into necrophilia. Or unless I am... but I'm not." Then he twisted his face in an expression of slight disgust. "You're not either, right?"
"No." He breathed a sigh of what appeared to be relief.
"That's good."
"What does dead-people sex have to do with this?"
"No, we've just established that it has nothing to do with this, remember?"
"... You've lost me." Though he didn't really look all that jolly at the time, any ounce of happiness he did have seemed to fade away. All that was left was a sad looking 32-year-old man. It was really, well, sad.
"That's what I'm afraid of."
-
Underwear, pants, socks, shirt. That's the order in which I dress. Likewise, the reverse is the order in which I undress. After a long, sweaty concert, that's really what I need to do. Other people have picked up on this as well, as there's even a room for me to change in. And these people are smart cookies, let me tell you. They've gone and named it- get this- the Changing Room. Genius.
So, while I was in there one evening, changing, the door opened and Jonny walked in. I continued to change (what else was I going to do? It was the Coldplay changing room, and as far as I knew, Jonny was still a member) and then checked the mirror to make sure I looked pretty. Well, I looked all right, anyway. As I brushed a curly lock neatly behind my ear, the quiet voice of Jonny spoke up.
"Can you give me some advice?" he shyly asked.
"Yeah, of course," I replied, withdrawing my attention from the mirror. "Shoot."
"You've, uh, liked a lot of girls, right?"
"Uh oh, girl troubles?"
"Not exactly. What would you do if one day you woke up and you realised you didn't like a girl?"
"Did I wake up in the same bed as her? Or is this not a specific girl?"
"Not a specific girl. You just don't like any girls."
"OK," I nodded. "Not unheard of."
"But you do like someone."
"I wake up and I like a guy?"
"Yeah." I'll stop here and say that for some reason I honestly wasn't surprised. Maybe I had some sort of sixth sense? Jonny-sync? Something like that. It's not a bad thing, though. Love is love, or like is like.
"Is he a nice guy?" Crucial. I'm not having my best friend get hurt by some jerk.
"Of course."
"Funny? Talented? Handsome?"
"Very."
"Is he gay?"
"I don't think so, but I'm sure some people could argue..."
"Do you think he likes you?"
"Not more than a friend, really." This giving advice thing is a lot tougher than it looks. Especially because I'm rubbish at it.
"Hmm... this is a tough one. Talk to him some more. Get him to like you. But don't change yourself, 'cause that will cause an ugly mess of problems."
"But if he doesn't like me now, how will I get him to like me by staying the same?"
"Good point." Do I go the honest route, and tell him it might not work? Optimism sounds better, though, and it wouldn't make him feel bad. I hate seeing Jonny upset. White lies are OK, right? "Maybe he already does like you, and maybe even he doesn't know it yet. Make him realise it."
"How am I going to do that?"
"You're Jonny!" I said, patting him on the back. He didn't look too reassured, though I wholeheartedly meant my words. "I'm sure you'll find the perfect way."
So, while I was in there one evening, changing, the door opened and Jonny walked in. I continued to change (what else was I going to do? It was the Coldplay changing room, and as far as I knew, Jonny was still a member) and then checked the mirror to make sure I looked pretty. Well, I looked all right, anyway. As I brushed a curly lock neatly behind my ear, the quiet voice of Jonny spoke up.
"Can you give me some advice?" he shyly asked.
"Yeah, of course," I replied, withdrawing my attention from the mirror. "Shoot."
"You've, uh, liked a lot of girls, right?"
"Uh oh, girl troubles?"
"Not exactly. What would you do if one day you woke up and you realised you didn't like a girl?"
"Did I wake up in the same bed as her? Or is this not a specific girl?"
"Not a specific girl. You just don't like any girls."
"OK," I nodded. "Not unheard of."
"But you do like someone."
"I wake up and I like a guy?"
"Yeah." I'll stop here and say that for some reason I honestly wasn't surprised. Maybe I had some sort of sixth sense? Jonny-sync? Something like that. It's not a bad thing, though. Love is love, or like is like.
"Is he a nice guy?" Crucial. I'm not having my best friend get hurt by some jerk.
"Of course."
"Funny? Talented? Handsome?"
"Very."
"Is he gay?"
"I don't think so, but I'm sure some people could argue..."
"Do you think he likes you?"
"Not more than a friend, really." This giving advice thing is a lot tougher than it looks. Especially because I'm rubbish at it.
"Hmm... this is a tough one. Talk to him some more. Get him to like you. But don't change yourself, 'cause that will cause an ugly mess of problems."
"But if he doesn't like me now, how will I get him to like me by staying the same?"
"Good point." Do I go the honest route, and tell him it might not work? Optimism sounds better, though, and it wouldn't make him feel bad. I hate seeing Jonny upset. White lies are OK, right? "Maybe he already does like you, and maybe even he doesn't know it yet. Make him realise it."
"How am I going to do that?"
"You're Jonny!" I said, patting him on the back. He didn't look too reassured, though I wholeheartedly meant my words. "I'm sure you'll find the perfect way."
-
After our talk, things seemed to change. Jonny seemed to change. But at the same time, he didn't. I don't know... it was weird. It seemed like the more time we spent together, the more I could feel a change. And we seemed to be even closer than we had been before, which I quite enjoyed. Jonny is such a great friend and such a great person to be around.
Then one day, when we were just hangin out, things really changed. Really, really changed. And when I say 'things', I mean myself. I thought it was just going to be a normal night- get pizza with Jonny and go see a movie or something. It was at first. After polishing off a large cheese pizza, I skipped to the door, leaving Jonny behind to pay (before you judge, it was his turn). It was a bit cold outside, and I could see the carbon dioxide leaving me as I exhaled. I was only wearing a thin shirt, and after a minute or so I was freezing.
Jonny opened the door, and stood in front of me. After two seconds I felt a heavy piece of cloth shoved into my torso. I grabbed it, realising that Jonny gave me his jacket.
"Aren't you gonna be cold?"
"Nah, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, take it. Come on, let's get going." I reluctantly pulled the jacket on, feeling extremely guilty as I did so. We quickly walked to the nearest theater, basically jogging to escape the cold. Well, I wasn't cold anymore, as I was wearing Jonny's jacket, but Jonny was almost shivering. I don't think he wanted me to know that, though.
When we got to the cinema, I decided that I would pay for the tickets, even though it was still Jonny's turn to pay for everything. But I felt like being nice, especially because he gave me his jacket. So, after a bunch of, "No, no, let me pay for this," and "I'll pay, it's not a problem," we were finally sat in the dark in front of the giant screen. I forget what movie we saw, but that doesn't seem like an important detail.
The movie ended after approximately two hours, and Jonny and I exited the theater, trying our best to walk without falling over. For some reason, it wasn't as cold when we left. I walked with him to his apartment, since it was on the way back to mine. As we stood outside the door to the building, I felt a bit sad.
"OK, so... tomorrow, I think we should not see another movie," Jonny said. "Because I'm getting really tired of sitting in that theater."
"Yeah, me too." I laughed, "Plus, those chairs hurt my butt."
"Exactly! So we're not gonna see a movie tomorrow."
"No, we're not. But what should we do instead?"
"Um... I don't know."
"Oh my god," I gasped. "We should go roller-discoing!!"
"No," Jonny said, with the most horrified look on his face. "No way."
"Come on! We'd get to roller skate around... and wear short shorts!"
"Oh, well, that is pretty tempting... but no."
"Aw, you're no fun," I said, playfully pushing him. "I'd like to see you come up with something better."
"Oh, I will," he threatened, opening the door.
"Yeah, OK. Later, Buckland."
"Night, Martin." I waited until he walked completely inside before I left. Casually strolling through the street, I started to feel cold again. My nose began to drip, so raised my arm to wipe it. Then I realised that I was still wearing Jonny's jacket. I breathed in and caught a whiff of his scent. By that point, I was too far away to consider going back, and there was this voice inside me that said to keep it. Keep Jonny's jacket. So I kept walking. Then I found myself lifting the collar halfway up my face and deeply inhaling, over and over. I was barely aware of what I was doing, and I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop.
In my crazy state, I ended up laying down in my bed still wearing the jacket. I actually intended on falling asleep with it on. It took me forever to fall asleep, though, because all I could think about was the jacket, and how I was wearing it, and how it was Jonny's. I replayed in my head a thousand times the scene where he handed me his jacket, a kind smile on his face and a warm softness in his eyes that I might have invented in my imagination. How did this happen? How could I have not seen this coming? How was I going to react when I saw him next? How was I ever going to be able to give him his jacket back?
How was I going to act like I wasn't in love with Jonny?
Then one day, when we were just hangin out, things really changed. Really, really changed. And when I say 'things', I mean myself. I thought it was just going to be a normal night- get pizza with Jonny and go see a movie or something. It was at first. After polishing off a large cheese pizza, I skipped to the door, leaving Jonny behind to pay (before you judge, it was his turn). It was a bit cold outside, and I could see the carbon dioxide leaving me as I exhaled. I was only wearing a thin shirt, and after a minute or so I was freezing.
Jonny opened the door, and stood in front of me. After two seconds I felt a heavy piece of cloth shoved into my torso. I grabbed it, realising that Jonny gave me his jacket.
"Aren't you gonna be cold?"
"Nah, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, take it. Come on, let's get going." I reluctantly pulled the jacket on, feeling extremely guilty as I did so. We quickly walked to the nearest theater, basically jogging to escape the cold. Well, I wasn't cold anymore, as I was wearing Jonny's jacket, but Jonny was almost shivering. I don't think he wanted me to know that, though.
When we got to the cinema, I decided that I would pay for the tickets, even though it was still Jonny's turn to pay for everything. But I felt like being nice, especially because he gave me his jacket. So, after a bunch of, "No, no, let me pay for this," and "I'll pay, it's not a problem," we were finally sat in the dark in front of the giant screen. I forget what movie we saw, but that doesn't seem like an important detail.
The movie ended after approximately two hours, and Jonny and I exited the theater, trying our best to walk without falling over. For some reason, it wasn't as cold when we left. I walked with him to his apartment, since it was on the way back to mine. As we stood outside the door to the building, I felt a bit sad.
"OK, so... tomorrow, I think we should not see another movie," Jonny said. "Because I'm getting really tired of sitting in that theater."
"Yeah, me too." I laughed, "Plus, those chairs hurt my butt."
"Exactly! So we're not gonna see a movie tomorrow."
"No, we're not. But what should we do instead?"
"Um... I don't know."
"Oh my god," I gasped. "We should go roller-discoing!!"
"No," Jonny said, with the most horrified look on his face. "No way."
"Come on! We'd get to roller skate around... and wear short shorts!"
"Oh, well, that is pretty tempting... but no."
"Aw, you're no fun," I said, playfully pushing him. "I'd like to see you come up with something better."
"Oh, I will," he threatened, opening the door.
"Yeah, OK. Later, Buckland."
"Night, Martin." I waited until he walked completely inside before I left. Casually strolling through the street, I started to feel cold again. My nose began to drip, so raised my arm to wipe it. Then I realised that I was still wearing Jonny's jacket. I breathed in and caught a whiff of his scent. By that point, I was too far away to consider going back, and there was this voice inside me that said to keep it. Keep Jonny's jacket. So I kept walking. Then I found myself lifting the collar halfway up my face and deeply inhaling, over and over. I was barely aware of what I was doing, and I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop.
In my crazy state, I ended up laying down in my bed still wearing the jacket. I actually intended on falling asleep with it on. It took me forever to fall asleep, though, because all I could think about was the jacket, and how I was wearing it, and how it was Jonny's. I replayed in my head a thousand times the scene where he handed me his jacket, a kind smile on his face and a warm softness in his eyes that I might have invented in my imagination. How did this happen? How could I have not seen this coming? How was I going to react when I saw him next? How was I ever going to be able to give him his jacket back?
How was I going to act like I wasn't in love with Jonny?
-
Love is a scary thing. I'd never been in love with anyone before, and the feeling was nothing short of terrifying and overwhelming. And I'd only been in love for a few hours. With every second that went by, my heart beat a sickening pace as the image of Jonny's bright smile pounded itself into my conscious. That beautiful smile, the one that could illuminate the entire universe, was killing me. I wanted so badly to be able to touch those lips, perhaps with my own, and to say that I belonged to him. But he was my best friend. What kind of person falls in love with their best friend?
And the sweaty palms. They weren't a problem at first, but as I stood waiting outside of Jonny's door the next morning, they quickly turned into one. Knuckles to wood, and within thirty seconds he'd be there. He, with that smashing smile and those ecstatic eyes, would open the door and greet me, and I would melt into a pile of gooey and sweaty human flesh. All metaphorical, but nonetheless frightenening. I gripped the jacket tightly in my hand, for fear that it would slip, and slightly unconsciously held it closer to my chest.
"Good morning, Chris!" Jonny chirped.
"Morning, Jonny. I, um, forget to give this back to you last night." I held out the jacket, and he immediately reached for it. "Sorry."
"Oh, it's not a problem. Do you want to come in? I'm just making coffee now, or I could make some tea if you like." Oh, dear. Accept? It might not be such a good idea to be around him so much while this is all new to me. Then again, free coffee and spending time with Jonny... very tempting.
"Coffee sounds nice, thanks," I smiled. The coffee was very nice indeed. I held the navy blue mug with both hands and took careful sips every now and then. Jonny was doing the same, seated at the opposite side of the table. We look very much like adults. Boring adults.
"So, what are we going to do today?" I asked in an attempt to liven things up.
"Hmm... I don't know," Jonny answered, quietly sipping his coffee. It was the first time in my life I had ever been jealous of a cup. It's a very strange feeling. "Oh, but we should go to that Italian restaurant for dinner, because they have the best baked ziti ever."
"Sounds good."
-----------
Later that night, we were sitting at a table located somewhere near the middle of the restaurant. There weren't so many people there, as it was a Tuesday night. Jonny was right, they did have the best baked ziti ever. I could only eat about half of what they gave me, though.
I was staring blankly across the room while Jonny was talking to me about something or other. It was probably quite rude for me to not be paying attention while he was telling me things, but I couldn't help it. All I could think about was what a mess I was in.
"Are you still alive, Chris?" Jonny asked, jerking me back to reality.
"Huh? Oh, I was just staring at that girl in the pink shirt over there," I quickly lied. He immediately turned around to see who I was talking about.
"Her? She's kinda hott, I guess. You should go talk to her."
"Nah, I'm good." Don't do it. Don't ask, you'll regret it. Do I listen to myself? Of course not. "But what about you? How's it going with that guy?"
"I'm not sure, actually. I've been talking to him more, right, but I don't know if anything has changed. Or, I don't know if he... you know."
"But you still like him?" Stop it! Stop asking these things!
"Oh, yes. Very much so."
"He should like you. What's not to like? Do you want me to speak to him for you?" WHAT THE HELL AM I SAYING?
"Uh, that might be a tad bit awkward."
"Nonsense." At this point, I was ready to slap myself as hard as I could. Maybe even harder.
"You're a great friend, you know that, Chris?" Friend. You're a great friend. Oh. "Even if sometimes you're not the smartest."
And the sweaty palms. They weren't a problem at first, but as I stood waiting outside of Jonny's door the next morning, they quickly turned into one. Knuckles to wood, and within thirty seconds he'd be there. He, with that smashing smile and those ecstatic eyes, would open the door and greet me, and I would melt into a pile of gooey and sweaty human flesh. All metaphorical, but nonetheless frightenening. I gripped the jacket tightly in my hand, for fear that it would slip, and slightly unconsciously held it closer to my chest.
"Good morning, Chris!" Jonny chirped.
"Morning, Jonny. I, um, forget to give this back to you last night." I held out the jacket, and he immediately reached for it. "Sorry."
"Oh, it's not a problem. Do you want to come in? I'm just making coffee now, or I could make some tea if you like." Oh, dear. Accept? It might not be such a good idea to be around him so much while this is all new to me. Then again, free coffee and spending time with Jonny... very tempting.
"Coffee sounds nice, thanks," I smiled. The coffee was very nice indeed. I held the navy blue mug with both hands and took careful sips every now and then. Jonny was doing the same, seated at the opposite side of the table. We look very much like adults. Boring adults.
"So, what are we going to do today?" I asked in an attempt to liven things up.
"Hmm... I don't know," Jonny answered, quietly sipping his coffee. It was the first time in my life I had ever been jealous of a cup. It's a very strange feeling. "Oh, but we should go to that Italian restaurant for dinner, because they have the best baked ziti ever."
"Sounds good."
-----------
Later that night, we were sitting at a table located somewhere near the middle of the restaurant. There weren't so many people there, as it was a Tuesday night. Jonny was right, they did have the best baked ziti ever. I could only eat about half of what they gave me, though.
I was staring blankly across the room while Jonny was talking to me about something or other. It was probably quite rude for me to not be paying attention while he was telling me things, but I couldn't help it. All I could think about was what a mess I was in.
"Are you still alive, Chris?" Jonny asked, jerking me back to reality.
"Huh? Oh, I was just staring at that girl in the pink shirt over there," I quickly lied. He immediately turned around to see who I was talking about.
"Her? She's kinda hott, I guess. You should go talk to her."
"Nah, I'm good." Don't do it. Don't ask, you'll regret it. Do I listen to myself? Of course not. "But what about you? How's it going with that guy?"
"I'm not sure, actually. I've been talking to him more, right, but I don't know if anything has changed. Or, I don't know if he... you know."
"But you still like him?" Stop it! Stop asking these things!
"Oh, yes. Very much so."
"He should like you. What's not to like? Do you want me to speak to him for you?" WHAT THE HELL AM I SAYING?
"Uh, that might be a tad bit awkward."
"Nonsense." At this point, I was ready to slap myself as hard as I could. Maybe even harder.
"You're a great friend, you know that, Chris?" Friend. You're a great friend. Oh. "Even if sometimes you're not the smartest."
-
If someone had come up to me ten years ago and told me that I would one day be in love with Jonny, I wouldn't have believed them. I'm not sure why, though, because looking back on everything, it was kinda obvious. Over the next week, I thought about almost every moment I had spent with Jonny ever. All the jokes we told, all the laughs we had, all the secrets we shared, everything. All of it pointed to this moment, but I was too blind to see it. Then I started to wonder if Jonny had been blind as well, or if he knew. I wanted him to know already, because then I wouldn't have to tell him, but I realized that he would have said something by now if he already knew.
I decided to tell him myself. So, one day when we were set to rehearse, I arrived a bit early to try to get a chance to talk to him. It took a lot of courage just to convince myself that telling him would be the right thing to do. Actually telling him was going to be nearly impossible. As I walked through the door that led me to him, I got this horrible sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was worse than any nervousness I'd ever felt before, even worse than when we were just starting out as a band and playing for small groups of people. Jonny's cheery, bright smile shining at me as I entered the room didn't help, either. But I smiled back and took the seat next to him.
"Jonny, I really need to talk to you about something."
"Go ahead."
"Um... this is not easy for me to say, but I... well, I'm in..."
"The mafia?" he joked. I looked up at him, and he immediately looked apologetic.
"Love. With you." His facial expression changed dramatically, but I was having trouble reading it. I guess he looked shocked, mostly. Naturally, I felt the need to apologize. "I'm sorry, Jonny. I know this complicates things, but I just thought you should know. But you like that other guy, anyway..."
"Yeah, it turns out that he's in love with me."
"Really? So you both like each other, then..."
"The funny thing is, though," he laughed, "he still doesn't know I like him."
"He doesn't?"
"No, and I keep dropping these, like, big hints, but he still doesn't seem to get it."
"How big are these hints?"
"I've talked to him about, well, him. Several times. Asked advice, told him how much I like him, told him that I've been dropping hints but he still doesn't get it..."
"You'd like someone that's that stupid?"
"Apparently."
"Maybe you should just actually tell him, then."
"I like you."
"Yeah, just like that. Then maybe he'll get it."
"Chris!" he yelled, burying his head in his hands.
"What?"
"Do you really not understand?" He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me so I was facing him, looking directly into his eyes. "I like you!"
Do you know what's worse than nervousness? Embarrassment. It's the worst feeling ever, and it takes every chance it gets to stab you all over. Then your face turns beet red, and you just want to hide. Hide, and slap yourself. I stood up and began to walk away, only stopping momentarily to say one last thing.
"Excuse me, I have to go in the other room and die of embarrassment now."
-
"Are you dead yet?" Not the friendliest thing Jonny could have said to introduce his presence in the room, but I do understand he was trying to go for funny. I guess it worked.
"No," I said from my chair. He walked over and took a seat beside me.
"Good, because that's not really my type." His humor was not the greatest, but he smiled at me and I have to admit that I completely melted at the sight. I smiled back for a second, before remembering my deep embarrassment.
"Why couldn't you have told me earlier?" I sighed. He chuckled a little and ruffled my hair, which drove me crazy. In a good way, of course.
"It's not really that easy."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
There was a silence, not so awkward, but weird enough. It almost raised my level of embarrassment. I stared at the floor, and Jonny stared at me, I think.
"Do we go for it, then?" he asked. I looked up at him and silently waited. "I mean, since we both feel the same way about each other... what's the harm?"
"If people find out, will they care?"
Jonny thought for a moment. "If people find out, will you care?"
Then I thought for a moment. Actually, I thought for quite a few moments, and ended with a bright smile. "No. Let's do this."
"All right," Jonny smiled and leaned forward, presumably to kiss me. But he leaned too far too quickly, and ended up falling over on top of me, knocking over my own chair in the process. By the time all was said and done, I was stuck underneath a mountain of chairs and Jonny. Then, once it was clear what had just happened, Jonny began to laugh. "Oops!"
"Clutz," I mocked him. His face was a mere two inches away from mine, so I lifted my head to give him a quick kiss. It was such a lovely feeling, and never did it once feel odd to be kissing him. It just felt right. So I kissed him again. And again. And then a fourth time.
I don't remember how long it took us to finally get up off that floor and from under those toppled chairs. I can say, though, that by the time we did, my lips were getting pretty chapped. Not that I minded.
I suppose, in a way, you could say that it ended with furniture as well. Those chairs were definitely furniture. Then again, it wasn't really an ending, was it? It was like the very, very beginning of what was to be the most wonderful relationship I have ever been in. Jonny and I left that room holding hands- I grabbed his hand first, mind- and from then on things were completely different. It didn't take long for people to find out about us, but when they did, life only got better. No one really cared, in fact, I think some may have even been glad that we were together. I know I certainly was.
I decided to tell him myself. So, one day when we were set to rehearse, I arrived a bit early to try to get a chance to talk to him. It took a lot of courage just to convince myself that telling him would be the right thing to do. Actually telling him was going to be nearly impossible. As I walked through the door that led me to him, I got this horrible sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was worse than any nervousness I'd ever felt before, even worse than when we were just starting out as a band and playing for small groups of people. Jonny's cheery, bright smile shining at me as I entered the room didn't help, either. But I smiled back and took the seat next to him.
"Jonny, I really need to talk to you about something."
"Go ahead."
"Um... this is not easy for me to say, but I... well, I'm in..."
"The mafia?" he joked. I looked up at him, and he immediately looked apologetic.
"Love. With you." His facial expression changed dramatically, but I was having trouble reading it. I guess he looked shocked, mostly. Naturally, I felt the need to apologize. "I'm sorry, Jonny. I know this complicates things, but I just thought you should know. But you like that other guy, anyway..."
"Yeah, it turns out that he's in love with me."
"Really? So you both like each other, then..."
"The funny thing is, though," he laughed, "he still doesn't know I like him."
"He doesn't?"
"No, and I keep dropping these, like, big hints, but he still doesn't seem to get it."
"How big are these hints?"
"I've talked to him about, well, him. Several times. Asked advice, told him how much I like him, told him that I've been dropping hints but he still doesn't get it..."
"You'd like someone that's that stupid?"
"Apparently."
"Maybe you should just actually tell him, then."
"I like you."
"Yeah, just like that. Then maybe he'll get it."
"Chris!" he yelled, burying his head in his hands.
"What?"
"Do you really not understand?" He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me so I was facing him, looking directly into his eyes. "I like you!"
Do you know what's worse than nervousness? Embarrassment. It's the worst feeling ever, and it takes every chance it gets to stab you all over. Then your face turns beet red, and you just want to hide. Hide, and slap yourself. I stood up and began to walk away, only stopping momentarily to say one last thing.
"Excuse me, I have to go in the other room and die of embarrassment now."
-
"Are you dead yet?" Not the friendliest thing Jonny could have said to introduce his presence in the room, but I do understand he was trying to go for funny. I guess it worked.
"No," I said from my chair. He walked over and took a seat beside me.
"Good, because that's not really my type." His humor was not the greatest, but he smiled at me and I have to admit that I completely melted at the sight. I smiled back for a second, before remembering my deep embarrassment.
"Why couldn't you have told me earlier?" I sighed. He chuckled a little and ruffled my hair, which drove me crazy. In a good way, of course.
"It's not really that easy."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
There was a silence, not so awkward, but weird enough. It almost raised my level of embarrassment. I stared at the floor, and Jonny stared at me, I think.
"Do we go for it, then?" he asked. I looked up at him and silently waited. "I mean, since we both feel the same way about each other... what's the harm?"
"If people find out, will they care?"
Jonny thought for a moment. "If people find out, will you care?"
Then I thought for a moment. Actually, I thought for quite a few moments, and ended with a bright smile. "No. Let's do this."
"All right," Jonny smiled and leaned forward, presumably to kiss me. But he leaned too far too quickly, and ended up falling over on top of me, knocking over my own chair in the process. By the time all was said and done, I was stuck underneath a mountain of chairs and Jonny. Then, once it was clear what had just happened, Jonny began to laugh. "Oops!"
"Clutz," I mocked him. His face was a mere two inches away from mine, so I lifted my head to give him a quick kiss. It was such a lovely feeling, and never did it once feel odd to be kissing him. It just felt right. So I kissed him again. And again. And then a fourth time.
I don't remember how long it took us to finally get up off that floor and from under those toppled chairs. I can say, though, that by the time we did, my lips were getting pretty chapped. Not that I minded.
I suppose, in a way, you could say that it ended with furniture as well. Those chairs were definitely furniture. Then again, it wasn't really an ending, was it? It was like the very, very beginning of what was to be the most wonderful relationship I have ever been in. Jonny and I left that room holding hands- I grabbed his hand first, mind- and from then on things were completely different. It didn't take long for people to find out about us, but when they did, life only got better. No one really cared, in fact, I think some may have even been glad that we were together. I know I certainly was.
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