The house was full now.
The clatter and hum of everyone settling in echoed faintly from other rooms.
Noel and Henry were bunking together. Rain and i, too.
Chris had miscalculated.
The house had only five rooms.
Five.
Yet, there were nine of them here.
Chris, Sky, Rachel, Wilson, Jack, Noel, Henry, Rain, and the uninvited i.
And what was worse?
Wilson had commandeered his room like a warlord planting a flag. And Jack, of course, had followed Wilson like a loyal foot soldier. So he was currently roomless.
Rachel had to stay in a room alone. He wasn’t that awful to make her share with the girls especially after noticing the awkward glances Rachel had shared with them before she quickly exited.
So Chris had to shuffle Rachel into what was supposed to be Wilson and Jack’s room.
Which left only one person now... without a room.
Chris.
In his own damn house.
Did he mind?
Not even a little.
He was secretly smiling to himself like a pervert who had just won the lottery—because there was only one obvious solution, and Sky wouldn’t let him sleep alone. Not after everything.
At least, he thought Sky wouldn’t.
But then—
"I can go stay with Noel and Henry," Sky said quietly, once they were alone. Sky had briefly returned to the room to freshen up and hide whatever was on his neck before going back to et his friends and do a proper catch up before the late breakfast.
Chris blinked. "What?"
Sky didn’t et his eyes. "I an, it’s fine. They’ve got space."
Chris’s chest tightened a little. "Why? You don’t... you don’t want to stay here with you?"
He hated how raw that sounded—how vulnerable. He hadn’t ant to say it like that. Hadn’t ant to ask like that.
Sky rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. "I an, the others are here and—"
"And it would be weird that we’re sharing a room?" Chris cut in, voice clipped. "We were roommates. We spent nights together in our dorm." He eyed Sky as he continued. "You ca all the way here for , and now you think their biggest concern is whether we’re sharing a room?"
Sky looked at him, finally. "Are you mad at ?"
Chris’s jaw tightened. "Is this because i’s here?" He folded his arms. "Why the hell is she even here? You told it was over."
"And it is over," Sky said, eyes narrowing slightly. "i is my friend. I also didn’t know she was coming. I wouldn’t do things without telling you." Sky said defensively.
"Okay. Whatever." Chris turned toward the door. "Sleep in here. It’s your room."
He reached for the handle, but before his fingers could twist it, Sky moved—fast.
Sky reached the door in two long strides, pressing his palm flat against the wood just as Chris’s hand brushed the handle. Chris froze—shoulders tense, head bowed slightly as if he’d already been halfway through walking away.
"I’m sorry," Sky said, voice low, hesitant.
Chris turned, slowly. His eyes scanned Sky’s face, guarded but searching—like he wanted to believe the words but didn’t know how yet.
Sky didn’t look away. "You can stay here. I want you to. I an it. I was just... nervous."
Chris exhaled through his nose, a small shift in his posture, like air leaking out of a balloon. His shoulders dropped, just barely.
But he said nothing.
Sky took a tentative step closer, gaze steady. "You’re disappointed in , aren’t you?"
Chris leaned back against the door and folded his arms across his chest, the wood cold against his spine. His voice ca out soft, flat, but heavy with everything unspoken. "I’m just going to not expect much."
Sky blinked, like the words had struck him in the chest.
"That hurts. You... You should expect much from ," he said, voice cracking slightly with urgency.
Chris gave a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Wishful thinking."
Sky ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Fuck, Chris. I won’t ask you to understand anymore—but know that I’m trying. I’m pushing myself further than I ever have. I just need a little patience."
Chris t his eyes then, and what he saw there—frustration, honesty, desperation—made sothing soft twist in his chest.
"I don’t like it when you’re mad at ," Sky added in a small voice. "I’m sorry. Please?"
Chris shook his head gently. "I’m not mad at you."
"But you heard my conversation with Rachel earlier, didn’t you?" Sky asked, reading him too easily.
Silence.
Sky sighed. "Figured."
Chris’s voice was quiet, tired. "Look, Sky... I invited you here because I wanted this to be simple. I wanted us to relax, be around people you like, and not have to think too hard. But if I’ve done all this and you’re still this on edge... then I don’t know what else to do. It won’t always just be and you. There are going to be other people. I can’t promise to disappear the world for us every ti."
Sky opened his mouth, but Chris raised a hand slightly—still calm, but firm.
"I get it, okay? I do. And if I’m acting like this, it’s not because I’m mad at you. It’s just... I’m frustrated. But I am patient. Or at least, I’m trying."
"You told the other day that you weren’t a patient guy," Sky said softly, a faint teasing note in his voice.
Chris’s lips twitched. "Yeah, well... sotis I can surprise myself."
They looked at each other in the soft silence that followed—sothing unspoken, fragile, but very much there.
Then, without warning, Sky leaned in.
A kiss—gentle, fleeting—landed on Chris’s lips like a question mark.
Chris froze. Not because it was unwanted. Because it was unexpected. A shift in the weather.
"What... was that?" he breathed when Sky pulled back, stunned.
Sky didn’t answer with words. He stepped in and pulled Chris into a hug—gentle, grounding. His arms wrapped around him, and Chris, surprised, found himself falling into it.
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