fic: (Don't Go) Sharing Your Devotion 1/3
fic: (Don't Go) Sharing Your Devotion
pairings: Mark/Eduardo, Chris/Dustin, brief/mostly platonic Chris/Eduardo
raitng: R-ish?
word count: ~16k (WHYYYY)
warnings: Implied sex, cursing, drinking, A LOT of moping
disclaimer: Not meant to represent real people. I don't own anything.
summary: For this prompt. Eduardo and Chris start dating, sort of. It would be just perfect if not for the inconvenient fact that they are both stupidly in love with their best friends. Featuring SulkyJealous!Mark, SadPanda!Dustin, EmotionalMess!Eduardo and Despairing!Chris.
notes: Also known as the "What even is my life" fic. This was supposed to be something short and cute and just WOULD. NOT. END. I have to apologize if it's kind of ridiculous and all over the place, and if there are a lot of errors, but I just could not look at it any longer. Also, huge apologies and thank yous to everyone who put up with my extremely slow update rate at the meme and were patient enough to stick it out, and everyone who listened to me whining for the last 3 months. Title comes from the ABBA song "Lay All Your Love On Me."
Eduardo
The whole thing starts on an altogether typical Sunday night. Eduardo is in the suite at Kirkland, eating nachos stolen from the dining hall and attempting to finish his Econ reading. On either side of him, Chris and Dustin are both making equally feeble attempts at their own homework. Mark is at his desk, totally absorbed in a new project for his algorithms class.
All in all, a very typical night.
(Eduardo spends most Sunday nights in Kirkland. Okay, most nights, in general. It’s not that he doesn’t like his own room, it’s just his room is never as well stocked with snacks and beer and it never feels quite the same without his Ma-without his friends.)
He groans as he realizes he still has a good forty pages to finish by tomorrow. Why does he always get so behind? Just then, Mark yawns and stretches at his desk, his shirt bunching up just a little around his shoulders, and Eduardo is abruptly reminded of why he gets so little done here.
“Wardo. Wardo! Did you hear me?” Dustin says, breaking Eduardo out of his reverie. He tears his eyes away from Mark’s back.
“Uh, what?” he says, trying not to blush. That’s another thing-this happens so often, you’d think he’d learn to be less obvious about his staring. Or at least not blush so much. Damn it.
“I said, your phone is ringing,” says Dustin. “Do you want me to answer it for you?”
“Who is it?”
Dustin glances at the screen. “It says, uh, May-May? My-My?” He stumbles over the pronunciation. Chris laughs. “Whatever, I don’t know how to say it,” Dustin grumbles. “It’s your mom.”
“Mamãe,” Eduardo says. “Don’t answer it, I don’t wanna deal with her right now.”
“Wardo, I’m shocked!” says Dustin, clutching his heart. “I thought you were such a mama’s boy.”
Eduardo sighs and shuts his textbook, giving up. “No, it’s just-I can’t talk to her right now, I don’t have the energy.”
“Is everything okay?” says Chris, consoling as always. “Did you have a fight?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” Eduardo says. “It’s just-I kind of told her something that wasn’t true earlier and I know she’s gonna bring it up again.”
“What was it?” Dustin says, clearly also giving up on his own homework.
“It’s just-it’s stupid, never mind,” says Eduardo, embarrassed.
“No, come on, you can’t do that,” says Chris. It seems he too is looking for a distraction from schoolwork.
“Well, okay, it’s not that big of a deal, it’s just---this stupid thing-” he says, biting his lip. “It’s just, she keeps pestering me about whether I’m dating anyone. It’s endless. It’s always, ‘Oh, querido, when do I get to meet your girlfriend? When are you bringing home your special someone, hm?’” It’s relentless, you know. And now that she knows I’m interested in guys, it’s just gotten worse. ‘So your dating prospects are doubled, querido! How are you still single? Such a catch, so handsome and smart!’” he lilts his voice up and makes his accent heavier in an imitation of his mother’s tone.
From his desk, Mark suddenly makes this weird noise that is somewhere between a laugh, a snort, and a cough. Eduardo didn’t even think he was listening. He must have swallowed a nacho the wrong way.
“Been there, bro,” says Dustin sympathetically. “All parents do it.”
“She’s right, though. You’re quite a catch,” says Chris, winking lecherously and grinning. Eduardo rolls his eyes and Mark coughs harder.
“Yes, well, be that as it may-are you alright, Mark?” he interrupts himself.
“Fine,” Mark says in a choked voice.
“Good,” he says, and then, “Anyway, be that as it may, I’m getting sick of hearing it, so…so I told her I was seeing someone.”
Mark swivels around in his chair so fast that he knocks his stapler off his desk. “Are you?” he says.
“No, of course not,” says Eduardo, trying to ignore the way Mark is staring piercingly at him and the effects that’s having on his internal organs (which never seem to behave quite as they should in Mark’s presence.) “You guys would know. I just said it to get her off my back.”
“Eduardo lied to his mother?” Dustin says, adopting his theatrically shocked tone. “How could you? What a heinous thing to do!”
“Shut up, okay?” Eduardo says, rolling his eyes. “I know it doesn’t sound like a big deal, but now she’s gonna want to know more about it, and I know I can’t maintain the lie.”
“Why not?” says Chris. “Just make up a few details about the guy and in a few weeks tell her you broke up with him.”
“No, you don’t understand,” says Eduardo. “You cannot lie to my mother. It can’t be done. She knows. She always knows. I swear, that woman is psychic.”
“Maybe you’re just a bad liar,” says Mark.
“You’d be surprised,” Eduardo mutters.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” says Mark sharply.
“Nothing, never mind,” Eduardo says quickly, feeling his cheeks heat up again. Damn it. “The point is, I can’t keep it up. I’m gonna have to tell her I lied about it. I just…don’t wanna deal with it tonight.”
“Don’t worry about it now,” says Chris. “And I mean, who knows? Maybe you will find someone soon enough, and then you won’t have to lie about it.”
“Yeah, like who?” says Eduardo. “There’s only one-um, there’s not really anyone I’m interested in.” There’s only one person I’m interested in, and I have no chance with him, he’d been about to say.
“You have the stupidest problems,” Mark says, swiveling around to face his laptop again. Eduardo huffs, offended. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Where does Mark get off saying that, as if he’s so superior?
“I’ll just…I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” Eduardo says. He yawns, stares at the detested textbook, sighs, and gets up. “Fuck it, I’m going to sleep,” he says.
---
Chris
On Monday afternoon, Chris gets out of his last class and goes to the dining hall. He spots Eduardo sitting by himself at the corner table, staring at his meatloaf glumly.
“Hey, man,” Chris says, pulling up a chair.
“Oh, hey, Chris,” Eduardo says.
“How’s it going?”
“Fine,” says Eduardo despondently.
Chris looks at him appraisingly. “Really?”
Eduardo pushes his plate away and sighs. “No,” he says. “I’m having a shitty day.”
“Aw, what’s wrong?” says Chris, pointing toward the plate with the universal you gonna eat that? gesture.
Eduardo waves to say go for it, man. “Well, where to begin. I slept through my 8 AM, I’m way behind on my Econ reading, I still haven’t figured out what to tell my mom about the boyfriend thing, I’m hungry but all this food is unappetizing, and Mark is apparently angry at me for no reason, on top of everything.”
Chris processes this as he chews a potato. He has long fallen into the role of sounding board for his friends, so he isn’t overwhelmed by Eduardo’s list of stressors. Besides, Eduardo has a minor crisis like this about once a week-he really isn’t very good at stress management. Especially when it comes to Mark, whose day-to-day moods seem to be the hinge of Eduardo’s emotional well-being at any given moment.
“Okay, let’s start at the beginning,” says Chris. “Your 8 AM-that’s a big lecture, right? Does the prof take attendance?”
“No, not usually.”
“Okay, so, no big deal. Just get the notes from someone. For your reading, just read the first and last sentences of every paragraph. Works like a charm. I have a sandwich in my fridge that I’m not gonna eat, you can have that if you want. I told you yesterday, don’t worry about the boyfriend thing-it’ll work itself out.”
Eduardo smiles ruefully. “Jeez, Chris. You’re right about everything, as usual. Thanks.”
Chris just smiles. “And about the Mark thing. I doubt it’s anything personal. You know how he gets. He’s just moody. It has nothing to do with you.”
(Chris has a feeling that last part might not be totally true, but that is a can of worms he has no intention of opening.)
Eduardo sighs. “I know, you’re probably right. I should stop worrying about him.” (Chris doesn’t believe this for a second, since he has given Eduardo the same advice about Mark countless times and Eduardo never seems to hear it.) “It’s just, I hate the thought of him being angry with me.” He pauses, then adds in a rush. “I mean, I hate having anyone angry at me. It’s not-I didn’t mean, Mark in particular--just any of my friends-”
“Of course,” says Chris soothingly. “Just don’t-” Just then, his phone buzzes. “Aw, shit,” he groans when he sees who it is.
“Who’s Adam?” Eduardo says, craning his neck to look at the screen.
“The world’s biggest creeper,” says Chris. In response to Eduardo’s quizzical look, he adds, “A couple weeks ago, I was at this party and this guy started hitting on me. And I was trying to be nice, even though he was totally creepy and a major perv. I don’t even know why I gave him my number, I guess I was too drunk to think of an excuse, but he’s been fucking harassing me ever since. And trust me, I’ve been sending out the strongest ‘not interested’ vibes possible. In fact, I’ve even said point-blank that he’s not my type. But he just took it as a challenge. And he won’t stop texting me. And he keeps showing up everywhere I go.”
“Oh my god, what a creep!” says Eduardo. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
Chris looks down guiltily. “I didn’t really want to say anything in front of Dustin. I mentioned it to him when it first started and he got all weird about it. Like, totally freaking out. Offering to go threaten to kick the shit out of this guy if he didn’t leave me alone. As if anyone would be scared of Dustin. He’s about as threatening as a baby deer.”
He gets momentarily sidetracked as his mind starts comparing Dustin to all manner of adorable animals. He catches himself when he notices Eduardo staring at him and realizes he has started smiling a bit too affectionately.
“Anyway,” he says quickly, “I didn’t want him to know it’s still happening. No good can come of it. I just…ugh. I wish this guy would fuck off.”
“Tell him you’re taken,” Eduardo suggests.
“I would, but knowing him, he’d want to meet the guy before he’d believe me,” says Chris.
Eduardo suddenly sits up in his seat. “Holy shit. I just had the best idea. We should date!”
“Um,” says Chris.
“You and I should be each other’s boyfriends!” Eduardo says, grinning eagerly.
Chris just stares at him. When he ascertains that Eduardo isn’t joking, he says, “Um, I’m flattered, Wardo, but I really don’t see you that way, no offense. Not that you’re not attractive, or anything, but you’re a good friend, and I don’t really like to hook up with my friends-” Although there is one friend I could make an exception for, his brain supplies, unhelpfully.
“No, no, me neither, not like that,” Eduardo says impatiently. “I mean, we should pretend to date. Like, just tell people we’re together. Hold hands and stuff. That way you can get Mr. Pervypants off your back and I can tell my mom who I’m seeing. It’s win-win.”
Chris considers this for a moment. It does makes sense. But then he thinks about Mark, who he has a feeling will just get more moody at this development. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” he says. “It could get weird. And Mark and Dustin-” but he actually doesn’t know how Dustin would react, and he can’t help but be curious. Would he be happy for Chris? Or maybe…
“They wouldn’t care,” says Eduardo, although he too seems to be pondering Mark and Dustin’s respective reactions. “Think about it, Chris.”
But Chris doesn’t have time to think about it, because just then he spots the last person he wants to see out of the corner of his eye, a few tables over. “Oh, fuck,” he whispers, and tries to hide his face. “That’s him. Adam. No, don’t look!” But Eduardo is ignoring him and staring over Chris’s head.
“Ew, that guy with the pedo moustache?” Eduardo says, making a gagging noise.
“Yeah, that’s him, now look away-” he whispers urgently. But it’s too late; Adam has spotted them. “Fuck, he’s coming over here.”
“Chris!” says Adam, smiling-no, leering-- at Chris. “You look great today. As always. Are those new pants?”
“Um, no,” says Chris. Eduardo looks like he’s caught between amusement and disgust.
“Well, they certainly fit well,” Adam says lecherously.
Chris panics. He throws his arm around Eduardo and pulls him closer. “Thanks. Adam, have you met my boyfriend Wardo?”
Adam stops smiling and raises his eyebrows. “No, I haven’t,” he says. “I never knew you had a boyfriend.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty serious,” says Eduardo, straight-faced.
“Weird, you never mentioned it,” says Adam skeptically.
“That’s bizarre, I could’ve sworn I told you,” says Chris sweetly.
Adam gets up, nodding slowly, as if trying to figure out if he’s being mocked. “Oh. Well. Nice to meet you,” he says. “I guess I’ll see you later, Chris.”
When he gets to the other side of the hall, he turns around to stare at them, still looking suspicious. Without thinking, Chris grabs Eduardo’s face and kisses him on the mouth. He even sticks his tongue in to really get the point across.
“Whoa, nice,” Eduardo says, grinning, when he pulls away.
“Sorry, I had to make it believable,” Chris mutters.
“Um, excuse me, but what the fuck?! ” exclaims someone. Chris turns around to see Mark and Dustin standing behind them.
---
Dustin
Dustin is having a really weird day. And not in the good way.
See, when he woke up, he felt kind of achy around his joints. It passed pretty quickly, but all day, he’s been trying to figure out the cause of this.
So far, he’s come up with three possible explanations.
One: He has somehow magically gotten pregnant in the past couple of weeks and this is the first symptom. This is admittedly biologically impossible, since he’s male and hasn’t had sex in like a year and a half (shut up, okay? It’s just a dry spell). But hey. It’s a weird world. You never know.
Two: He was bitten by some kind of radioactive insect in his sleep and he is now turning into a mutant superhuman with all kinds of badass powers, the nature of which are yet to be determined, and the reason for the aching was that his body is undergoing an intense transformation.
Three: He has finally hit his growth spurt and they were growing pains. This is probably the most unlikely reason, though-his doctor told him he was done growing when he was seventeen.
After mulling over these possibilites all day at class, he decided he definitely needed to discuss this with Chris. See, Chris is brilliant (and not snobby about it like Mark), and always has the answers. Plus he’s a fucking awesome listener. And also, if any of those options are true, Dustin definitely wants Chris to know. If Dustin is knocked up, well, Chris will make an awesome baby daddy. If Dustin is turning into a superhero, Chris will surely be impressed by his soon-to-be-emerging rippling muscles. Or if it’s a growth spurt, imagine how turned-on Chris will be when he sees how tall Dustin has gotten?
So, he was planning on telling Chris all this just as soon as he got some dinner. He was explaining his theories to Mark on the way down to the d hall, although he hardly seemed to be listening, just grunting in response. Whatever, Mark’s constant PMS-ing was not going to kill Dustin’s buzz.
So just as they got to the d hall, what does he see? Chris and Eduardo-as in two out of three of his best friends, as in Eduardo Saverin and Chris Hughes -totally sucking face.
Dustin forgets all about his possible pregnancy/superhuman transformation/growth spurt.
“Um, excuse me, but what the fuck?!” he yells.
“Oh,” Eduardo says and both he and Chris twirl around. “Hi.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Dustin bellows. Eduardo has turned bright red and is looking at Mark shiftily while Chris is biting his lip in that damn way he does.
“Dustin,” he says. “I can explain.”
(Which is kind of a weird thing to say, it occurs to him later, because it’s not like Chris is Dustin’s-well, whatever.)
“Well, this is certainly new,” says Mark coolly. He has the facial expression of someone who just took a big swig of milk before realizing it had gone bad.
“I can’t believe this!” Dustin says heatedly. “My best friends are having an affair and you didn’t tell me! How could you?”
“No one’s having an affair,” Eduardo says. “If you’d just-”
“Out of the loop! Played for a fool! Lied to! All this time! No one bothered to tell Dustin!” Dustin is outraged.
“Dustin! We didn’t lie to you!” Chris says, exasperated. “We’re not-we haven’t been dating, okay?”
“Oh,” says Dustin, forgetting to hide his relief. “But wait! Then what the fuck? Why were you making out in the d hall?”
“You’re gonna laugh,” says Chris. “There was this-”
But just then Eduardo, who has been staring at Mark, tears his eyes away and puts his hand over Chris’s. “Chris just asked me on a date for this Friday,” he says sweetly. “And I said sure. Definitely. Yes.” His gaze flits back to Mark for a second. “I mean, why not? I don’t have any other plans.”
Chris turns and stares and Eduardo who stares back, apparently trying to communicate something silently. And what the fuck? They’ve been dating for five minutes and they’re already having intense silent conversations? That’s ridiculous.
“Wow, Wardo,” says Mark stonily. “You sleep with anyone who asks you on one date? If I had known you were that easy, I would’ve asked you out ages ago.”
Eduardo’s eyes go wide. “You would?” he half-whispers.
Mark blushes furiously. “No-I-it was supposed to be an insult,” he says awkwardly.
“Nobody's sleeping with anyone!” Chris says. (And yeah, Dustin thinks-that’s kind of been the ongoing problem, hasn’t it?) “We’re just going on one date. It’s not a big deal. You guys need to calm your shit, okay?”
“Who’s not calm?” Dustin says a little hysterically. “I am the epitome of calm.”
“Me too,” says Mark, sounding positively livid. “I think it’s just lovely.”
“Well, good,” says Chris, who looks a little out-of-sorts. “I would hate for you guys to overreact.”
“Yes,” says Eduardo, still eyeing Mark. “No need to be weird about it.”
Mark throws his bag down on the table. “Whatever,” he grumbles. “I’m gonna go get my food.”
“Yeah, me too, I’ll be right back,” says Dustin, who is still confused and supremely unhappy with this development but unsure how to express this without making it blatantly obvious that he wants to jump Chris’s bones.
“Actually,” says Chris, standing and dragging and Eduardo up with him. (And do they really have to be so touchy-feely? Jeez.) “Wardo and I were just leaving. But enjoy your dinner.”
“What-we were?” says Eduardo. Chris hisses, “We need to talk,” which he apparently thinks Dustin can’t hear, and which-again, what the fuck? What do they possibly need to talk about?
“Oh. Okay. See you, then,” Dustin says dejectedly as they leave.
Mark comes back to the table and slams down his plate.
“Shit,” Dustin says. “I never got to ask him about my aches!”
“Fucking let it go, Dustin. It’s probably early-onset arthritis,” Mark snaps.
“Whatever, Debbie Downer,” Dustin snaps back and kicks a chair ineffectually.
--
Mark
Look.
Mark doesn’t care that Eduardo is dating Chris.
He’s not upset about it.
He’s definitely not jealous.
He’s not.
He’s just busy.
He has a life, you know? Do people forget that they’re at the most prestigious university in the country? He has homework!
So if he’s been a little harder to reach lately, that has nothing to do with his non-existent jealousy.
He’s busy.
Eduardo is perfectly open to date whoever he wants. Maybe Mark is a bit confused as to why Wardo would choose someone that he has absolutely no chemistry with, but, you know, whatever. It’s up to him.
It’s just like. Okay, yeah, Chris and Wardo are friends. But when have either of them ever indicated that they were interested in each other in the least?
It’s just a bit weird, is all Mark’s saying. But whatever. Good for them. Mark’s not going to stand in their way.
And well-
No, it’s stupid. It doesn’t matter.
Never mind.
Okay, fine, yeah, Mark is a tiny bit confused, because maybe, he kind of might have sort of been slightly under the impression the he and Eduardo had-
Well, not an agreement per se-
It just kind of seemed like Wardo was…
Was interested in Mark.
Not Chris.
But Mark’s been wrong before.
So whatever.
He doesn’t care.
He would just like to do his homework in peace, and not be suspected of all these hidden homoerotic motives.
In fact, if anyone could be accused of acting irrational or weird in this whole situation (well, besides Dustin, who is being even weirder than usual), it would be Eduardo.
He’s the one who has sent Mark fourteen texts between Monday night and Wednesday morning.
On Monday:
Sorry Chris and I couldn’t stay for dinner!
Can I drop by later?
Okay, I guess you’re busy with school stuff.
On Tuesday:
Good morning! Want to get coffee after your 10 am?
I guess that’s a no.
Were you in the suite earlier? I knocked…
You should drop by my room later. My mom sent another care package with a shitload of those Brazilian candies you like.
Mark, what’s up?
I know your phone’s not dead.
Okay, well, goodnight.
On Wednesday:
Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable the other day.
With Chris, I mean.
Because I didn’t mean to.
But you don’t have to ignore me.
Mark grits his teeth. At this point it’s 3 pm on Wednesday, he’s just leaving class, and his inbox is exploding.
Can you please stop texting me every two fucking minutes? I have a life. he types out, then grimaces at the assholish tone, erases the whole message and starts over.
I’ve been pretty busy, but why don’t you see if Chris is free? Since you two are dating and all, right?
Shit, no. That’s way worse. He erases that one too.
Just as he starts typing out a third, much less incriminating message, he turns around and sees Eduardo in the flesh, running towards him.
“Mark! Hey!”
“Hi,” he says and stares at the ground.
“Um,” says Eduardo. “Um, what’s up?”
“Nothing,” Mark says. He swallows.
“Oh,” says Eduardo. “Listen, um,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “Are you mad at me? ‘Cause if so, I’m sorry-”
“No, not at all,” Mark says abruptly.
“Well, it kinda seems like you’ve been avoiding me,” says Eduardo in a small voice.
“No, not at all,” Mark says again. God, he sounds stupid. “I’m, uh, I’ve just been. You know. Really busy.”
“Oh, well, um,” Wardo says. “That’s good to know. ‘Cause I kinda thought maybe you were weirded out about the dating Chris thing-”
“No, not at all,” Mark says. And fuck, is that the only phrase he knows now? Has he forgotten how to form sentences other than “not at all”? He hurries to add, “It’s. Um. I really don’t care. I mean. Good for you. Whatever. Um. I need to go to class. Bye!”
He turns around and practically runs back into the class building, cursing himself and praying Wardo didn’t see his blush. Eduardo calls out, “But I thought you just got out of class!” Because he has apparently memorized Mark’s entire schedule, which should be more stalkery and less endearing.
Mark ducks into a hallway, waiting for his face to stop flaming and swearing under his breath. And he thinks-
Okay.
Fine.
Whatever.
He’ll admit it.
Maybe he’s a tiny bit jealous.
So fucking sue him.
---
Chris
Wednesday night is laundry night. This is Chris’s routine, has been since he started college. His roommates always make fun of him for it, but he doesn’t really think they have any right-half the time Dustin forgets to wash his clothes until the load is so big he needs three machines, and as for Mark, Chris is pretty sure Wardo has taken to washing all of Mark’s clothes for him. (Those two are so fucking married, god.) So they really shouldn’t be giving Chris shit about having a reliable routine.
So on Wednesday night, here he is in the laundry room, taking his warm clothes out of the dryer and folding them neatly into the hamper. He would never ever admit this to Dustin or Mark lest he be eternally mocked, but he likes it here. The hum of the machines and the smell of detergent; the routine of it all. It’s especially soothing today; a nice break from the veritable clusterfuck his life is quickly becoming.
Speaking of which-he untangles a pair of jeans and finds a worn t-shirt that he recognizes immediately as belonging to Dustin. Fuck, not again. Dustin’s clothes keep finding their way into Chris’s hamper. If Chris was a normal person he wouldn’t care, he might just yell at Dustin or fling the clothes on his bed. But Chris is not a normal person, he is a person with a pathetic, extremely unfortunate, no-signs-of-subsiding crush on his best friend. A person who is currently holding Dustin’s shirt and smiling stupidly, a person who is acting like Creepy McCreeperson once again. This keeps happening, the clothes appearing in his hamper (by accident, he’s sure, because Dustin throws his shit everywhere), and it is really not good for Chris’s well-being. So far it’s only been shirts and a few socks, which is lucky because Chris thinks if he found Dustin’s underwear mixed in with his clothes he might actually die.
He swallows guiltily and drops the shirt on top of his hamper. He finishes folding the rest of his clothes. Just as he is untangling the last few socks, someone comes into the laundry room.
“Oh, hey, you!” says Adam.
Chris has to stifle a groan. This is seriously the last thing he needs. As if he doesn’t have enough problems: The object of his affections is his roommate, his best friend, and totally oblivious to his feelings for him and seems unlikely to get a clue any time soon; said object of his affections has been acting super weird lately and Chris can only guess at the cause; he’s attempting to maintain an entirely fictional relationship with a guy who is quite obviously hung up on someone else-incidentally also his roommate-and is having a panic attack about it; said roommate has turned into even more of a grumpy, noncommunicative recluse than usual lately; and Chris hasn’t gotten laid in way longer than he’d like to admit. (Okay, that last one isn’t completely relevant, but it’s still stressful.) He really is in no state to deal with Adam again.
“Hi,” he says, attempting to subtly escape, but Adam is blocking the doorway.
“I hope I wasn’t rude the other day. I was just surprised that you were dating someone,” he says.
“It’s fine,” says Chris.
“So how long have you two been together?” says Adam, leaning against the doorway. (He doesn’t even have laundry; why is he even in here?)
“Less than a week,” says Chris without thinking. Adam raises his eyebrows and Chris remembers belatedly that he and Eduardo are supposed to be in a really serious relationship. “…until our six-month anniversary!” he adds quickly. Adam squints at him like he doesn’t buy it, but just says, “Well, congrats.”
“Thanks,” Chris mumbles and picks up his hamper. He’s just about to maneuver around Adam and make his escape when Adam adds, “So what about that other guy you hang around with? The redhead?”
Chris quickly turns around. “Dustin? What about him?” He’s unable to keep the defensiveness out of his voice.
“Well, sure, he’s ginger, but he’s not bad looking,” says Adam, and Chris clenches his fists. “Is he single?”
“He not ginger,” Chris practically hisses. “And he’s spoken for.”
“Who--?”
“Arranged marriage,” Chris blurts, then mentally winces. Probably not his best material.
“Arranged marriage, are you bullshitting me?” Adam says. “What white person in America in the twenty-first century has an arranged marriage?”
“Way to be ignorant,” Chris snaps. “It’s been arranged since before he was born, apparently. I shouldn’t even be telling you this, because it’s kind of a secret, but the point is he can’t date anyone ever.”
You have to give Chris some credit. When he comes up with a story, he really commits.
Still, Adam is still looking at him skeptically, so he adds, “And besides, even if he could it wouldn’t matter because he’s totally straight.”
“You sure about that?” says Adam, and Chris loses his temper.
“He’s my best friend. I’m positive. He likes girls.”
Well, this is not an outright lie. Dustin does like girls. Whether that is all he likes is not so clear. Dustin’s sexuality has always been ambiguous, to say the least, and for months Chris has been basing his understanding that Dustin is at least bi-curious on a number of jokey comments that he may or may not be interpreting wrong.
(And then there was New Year’s Eve. But that’s just…well.)
This is his life.
He eventually extricates himself from the laundry room, after repeating several more times that Dustin is totally completely off-limits for Adam (and everyone else ever, if Chris has anything to say about it).
In their suite, Dustin is lying on the couch with his head hanging upside-down off the end and a bag of Cheetos on his stomach. “Hiiiiiiiiiii Chrissss,” he trills.
Chris throws the shirt at his face; it misses and falls on the floor. “Why does your shit keep getting in my laundry?” he says.
“Whatever, you totally love it,” says Dustin.
“Yes, of course. Nothing makes me happier than finding your nasty clothes in my laundry,” says Chris.
(He’s a pretty convincing actor. Maybe he should become a theatre major.
No, that’s too gay. Even for him.)
“I know,” says Dustin.
Chris glances to his right, where the door to Mark’s room is shut.
“I’d leave him alone if I were you,” says Dustin sagely. “He came storming in here a few hours ago and wouldn’t even talk to me.”
“Oh god,” Chris groans, flopping down on the couch next to Dustin. He tries to push Dustin’s feet off the couch but Dustin just pushes them into his lap, wiggling his toes.
“Ugh,” says Chris, but he’s grinning. He grabs a handful of Cheetos out of the bag on Dustin’s stomach.
“Hey! Those are mine!” Dustin yells, indignant.
“How many times have you stolen my food? You owe me,” says Chris through a full mouth.
“That is an outrageous lie,” Dustin says, and when Chris catches his gaze he’s grinning widely.
Chris’s stomach flips over. There’s a smudge of orange cheese powder on the corner of Dustin’s mouth and Chris has to suppress an urge to lick it off, which is stupid because he doesn’t even like Cheetos that much.
“So um, where’s Eduardo?” Dustin says, breaking the moment.
“What?” Chris says. “Oh, uh, I don’t know.” He remembers about the stupid lie and adds, “his room, I think.”
“Hm,” says Dustin, looking away.
“What’s wrong?” says Chris.
“Nothing,” says Dustin quietly. He’s not as good a liar as Chris.
He sighs. “It’s just-Chris. You know I, I support you, always. Right?”
Chris nods slowly. “Yeah, of course.”
“Right, okay,” Dustin goes on, twining his fingers together. “And I don’t want to tell you what to do. But…I don’t really know if this dating Wardo thing is really the best idea.”
“Dustin,” Chris says.
“It’s just. He’s great, of course. But are you sure he’s doing it for the right reasons?”
“Dustin.”
“It’s just, I’ve been starting to get the impression,” Dustin lowers his voice into a conspiratorial whisper, “That Mark and Wardo might have…you know…feelings for each other.”
Chris bites his lips to keep himself from laughing. “Yeah, Dustin, I noticed too.”
“Right! So,” Dustin says. “You really want to get involved with that? You don’t deserve that kind of drama. You should date someone who is actually interested in you.”
“Thanks,” says Chris. He sighs. “But you don’t need to worry because--” He sighs. “We’re not really dating.”
“What?” Dustin says, eyes widening, and it might be wishful thinking but Chris thinks he hears relief in his voice.
“It’s just a stupid-it’s fake. I’m not really interested in him like that,” Chris says, words rushing out.
“Then why…?”
Chris swallows. “It’s just, um. You know, that stuff with his mom. And I guess…I guess he wanted to make Mark jealous. That’s why we didn’t, um, tell you right away.”
If Dustin notices how illogical this is, he doesn’t say anything. He just says, “Oh.” And then, after a minute, “So what do you get out of it?”
Good question, Chris thinks. “I’m just a Good Samaritan, I guess,” he mumbles.
“Of course you are,” says Dustin, affectionately, in a way that makes Chris’s pulse speed up. “I don’t get why Wardo has to do that, though. Make Mark jealous. It seems stupid. Counterproductive.”
“Yeah, I don’t know,” Chris mumbles. Dustin is looking at him, and his throat has gone dry.
“What’s the point of the games?” Dustin goes on. “He should just be direct. If he likes Mark, he should just tell him.”
He’s still looking at Chris and there’s a tone in his voice, like he’s really saying something else, and Chris’s pulse seems to have tripled. This is the moment, he thinks. I haven’t been imagining it. He wants it too.
His palms are sweating, and he’s leaning in, and he’s thinking now, say it now, and…
But the thing is, Dustin looks so serious, like he rarely does, and it’s unnerving, and Chris thinks, what if I’m wrong? What if he’s been misinterpreting it all-the flirting, the little comments, New Year's Eve-what if he’s totally off base? Because it’s always been so easy with Dustin, and he doesn’t want to fuck that up.
He jerks away.
“Um, I. Um. Yeah, of course. What you just said. Is true,” he stammers.
Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it) Chris’s phone buzzes just then. He scrambles to grab it.
From: Eduardo S.
Is Mark there??? Do you if he’s mad at me??? Is he okay???
“Is that Eduardo?” Dustin says. His face looks a little pink.
“Yeah, he’s flipping out, what else is new,” says Chris. “I better, um, go talk to him,” he says, getting up.
“Oh, okay,” Dustin says. “See you later, I guess.”
“Sure,” Chris says, and walks into the hallway.
He slams his head against the wall.
Part 2