Chapter Text
18 months Later:
Chris stared up at the ceiling fan whirring above him. Sleep was not forthcoming, despite the fact that he usually boasted that he could be asleep within 90 minutes of a show ending, adrenaline and all. Tonight, however, that was impossible.
They’d been on tour for a couple of months, and it had been brilliant. They were on the last leg now in North America, with only about three shows left to go. Their current hotel was outside of the nearest city, nestled in between deserts and distant rocky mountains, simply because it was a convenient location to reach the airport from tomorrow.
A few minutes ago Chris had been standing by the window, palms flat on the window sill, staring out at the little of the landscape the light of the moon revealed, while the rest was shrouded in darkness. He quite liked the isolated, open feeling of where they were; it felt quite haunting, and also humbling. It made him think, like most things did, of the person in a room somewhere down the corridor, who was so firmly lodged in his heart and his mind, who made him feel anchored and safe wherever he was. He was only ever a couple of thoughts away from thinking about Neil again anyway.
Lying back in bed, another attempt at sleeping, but to no avail. Emotion was coursing through his veins, an energetic beat from their earlier show dictating his pulse. He didn’t want the tour to end, and all his mind could do was play a reel of all the tiny but significant moments from recent months that had culminated in this sleepless night.
After Neil's marriage, Chris had thrown himself into their work, almost to have a focus (well, it was certainly healthier than throwing himself into partying, which he figured he might’ve done when younger). He’d actually found more solace in their songwriting than he had for a long time, especially because when they were working on songs, they always seemed to gel and find enjoyment in it no matter what else was going on in their lives.
Chris had to admit though, that he was more sensitive than he had ever been to those good and bad moments that constantly ebbed and flowed through the days he spent with Neil. Neil walking past and squeezing his shoulder while he was editing on the laptop was something that reverberated through all of him, filling him with a deep warmth, and a wild and probably foolish feeling of hope. Neil placing a coffee and pastry next to him right when he wordlessly seemed to know he needed it; those moments where he felt how much Neil cared about him, they could enhance his mood for hours.
Conversely though, when Neil mentioned weekend plans with Mark: sometimes it washed over him, but other times, it cut so much deeper than he was willing to admit. Hearing Neil sing certain lines about love could sometimes catch him off guard and fill him with a dull, heavy sense of gloom for hours. That never used to happen, but now - sometimes it felt like a deep loneliness, other times like momentary despair, because nothing was changing. He was still caught in this difficult situation: he’d either have to accept it and move on, or tell him everything and face the consequences, and he was still coasting along, caught in between. Unfortunately, Chris realised, he’d always been far too good at doing that.
Still, Neil never did seem as distant as Chris had feared he would after the marriage. He supposed he’d envisaged Neil being completely preoccupied with Mark like he had been at the engagement party, but in reality, Neil still made plenty of time for him, and from what Neil told him, Mark seemed to have a lot of his own things going on too.
Chris had even shared some conversations with Mark at a couple of social events, birthdays and the like, and it had been, by all accounts, fine. Mostly about the creation of their new album and upcoming tour, and about Mark’s own gallery work. It seemed like everyone’s projects were in full swing, and for that Chris was grateful.
As their tour approached, Chris and Neil spent increasing amounts of time together planning for the live show. One evening they stayed at the studio collating ideas for an upcoming meeting with their tour director and sketching out a possible set list. They stayed there so late that they ordered takeaway food to their studio, and it had been an incredibly enjoyable evening of laughter and reminiscing as they went through their back catalogue, as well as discussing new inspiration and ideas for the show.
Evenings like this reminded Chris of the early days, the bare bones of how it started. Not the initial songwriting, but when they started piecing together what their sound was. When they started making cassette mixtapes of their influences, maybe starting to imagine what they’d look like as an act on a stage or on an album cover. When they started to shift from creating songs together to creating a project that was uniquely theirs. He could remember how thrilling that felt back then, and those moments where it still felt like that were amazing.
When it came to the time they had to part ways that night, Neil seemed reluctant. The sky was the deep blue of very early morning, birds were starting to chirp, there was the odd rush of a vehicle passing by on the nearest main street. On the doorstep to their studio, tucked away in a back street, Neil pulled Chris into an embrace, leaving a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek.
The thing was, Neil never usually kissed him. Maybe if he was saying goodbye to him at a party after a few glasses of wine, but now he had no excuse. He didn’t usually hold him tight for those extra seconds either. Chris’s eyes, wildly searching for the reason for it, met Neil’s, brimming with undisguised tenderness and longing.
Chris sort of understood the reason for it; they’d shared the sort of evening that confirmed how much they still loved spending time together, but still, he wasn’t sure whether it was supposed to mean something, and how exactly he was meant to react.
It all made several emotions spike in him. Hurt, that Neil thought he could kiss him and look at him like that like he hadn’t got married a few months ago and made Chris go through everything that had made him feel. Longing, like a deep malaise Chris had just been reminded of again, the sheer weight of the things he’d been lacking. Although it wasn’t all negative: he couldn’t see the look in Neil’s eyes without also feeling a pull towards him, a warm sensation fluttering and growing in his chest, not just the malaise of longing but a soaring sense of connection and hope taking flight.
And finally, panic again. Not knowing how to react to his unexpected affection, the fear that Neil was going to say something about him, about them, the overwhelming need to diffuse the intensity. And of course, Chris knew this would upset him later, thinking of how he never seemed to be able to change this.
Chris tried to think of anything to say to extinguish the moment between them: something about seeing him at the studio on Monday. His words were probably not a reassurance that satisfied either of them, but what else could he really say. Neil nodded subtly and they left each other.
It had been another night where Chris had walked home, deep in thought: should he be moving on? or should he cling to the way Neil had looked at him for all it was worth?
By the time the tour had come around, Chris was impatient for it to begin. He’d been craving the change of scene and a chance to travel. There was some apprehension in him about being close to Neil for an extended amount of time, given everything, but he also loved the feeling of being detached from everyday life and sharing the same unique experience with him and their tour crew, so mostly, he couldn’t wait.
In a taxi ride from an airport near the start of the tour, he’d asked Neil if Mark intended to visit him or watch a show. He didn’t know what possessed him to ask it, really; he supposed it was in part as mental preparation in case he was, but Neil’s reaction had taken him by surprise. Neil took a deep breath, like the question was complicated and vaguely unwanted, and answered “I doubt it” with a sharpness that suggested that no further explanation would be given.
Chris turned away to look out of the car window and fixed his gaze on the unchanging skyline in the distance. His heart was suddenly pounding, the words and tone Neil had used ringing in his head: I doubt it? What was that supposed to mean?
Clearly Neil didn’t want to elaborate on the subject, and Chris knew he wasn’t meant to, but he didn’t think he could deal with not asking the obvious question. The curiosity was killing him, and he was about to break one of their precious unspoken rules.
“Why?” he asked into the space between their seats. It was probably a good minute since Neil had spoken - “do you doubt it?” he clarified.
Neil blinked at him, surprised. He took off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, clearly tired after the long flight. They both were, really. He sighed. “I’d rather not talk about it right now, Chris.”
Chris nodded and looked away again, knowing he was going to have to live with the further ten questions that sentence created, and swallow every single emotion all of it evoked.
That had set the tone for the start of the tour. Mark had been absent from their conversations since, to the point where Chris was beginning to think that they may be on some kind of break from each other. Whether it was some minor disagreement that had left things on a sour note before Neil had left on tour, a slightly bitter comment on Mark being too preoccupied with other things to visit him, or a complete break up, he could only guess.
He didn’t want things to be going badly for Neil, but he also felt an immense amount of relief. Mainly because he wasn’t constantly being reminded of Mark. At first, Chris had been trying to ascertain further information from Neil’s mood, but interestingly, it seemed to him that Neil was enjoying the tour as much as he was. He seemed content, relaxed, but- pensive. Definitely pensive. He’d been observing Neil with a lot of ignored books in his lap while he stared out of windows, which made Chris assume that there must be further feelings on the subject brewing in his mind, which Chris figured certainly made two of them.
In any case, it felt like there was something about their moods that matched, and as they’d travelled around, the mood between them had grown especially warm and close. As well as hanging out with members of their crew and manager, they’d spent plenty of time alone together: sightseeing, sharing meals, or idling away travelling hours, and when it was just them, it felt like slipping into their most comfortable clothes. More than that, though, there had been times on the tour where being alone together had felt like something extra special.
At least in some of his actions, Chris wasn’t hiding how he felt: his gaze lingered, his smiles were laced with meaning, and he couldn’t say how much was purposeful and how much was just because he couldn’t contain certain things anymore. Especially when Neil seemed to return every look, every smile, every joke they shared with something equally as weighted and meaningful.
This feeling between them; Chris wasn’t sure of the reason for it. He wasn’t sure if it was because his own actions were revealing his feelings a little, or because they were both seeking solace in each other for different reasons, or if it was simply that long held feelings for each other were finally starting to coincide at a time when they were both possibly ready.
The tour had been dotted with lots of small moments that had made Chris feel things he’d not felt in a long time.
A week or so ago, they’d shared a visit to a vineyard in California. Neil and him had walked around on a sign-posted trail, and more than once Neil ignored the arrows signalling the trail and started walking the wrong way. Laughing, Chris had put his hands on Neil's waist to steer him back to the path.
“Sorry”, Neil shook his head, turning and trailing his fingers down Chris's bare lower arm. They were both wearing t-shirts on an evening bathed in golden sunshine, the light pouring in between the rows of vines.
“What can I say? You distract me, Chris”, Neil had protested, eyes shining at him fondly.
“You distract me, though I still manage to follow the arrows”, Chris teased, keeping his hands on Neil's waist for a little longer than he needed to.
By the time they got to the wine tasting, they were both giggly. First, he was teasing Neil for thinking that he was such a wine connoisseur. Next, they were trying to guess each other’s opinions on the various wines before the other said anything, and mostly getting it right.
Chris noted the name of the wine Neil had liked the most, because it immediately struck him as a good gift idea for the future. Not only because Neil liked it, but because it would remind him of this evening, which stood out as something particularly special, as the sunset deepened into night.
Their exit from the vineyard to the nearest road where they could get a taxi had been under a clear sky scattered with far more stars than they usually saw, and Chris couldn’t help but think about how there was no one else around them the entire time. About how silent and open the landscape was. About how easy it would be to reach for Neil’s hand, to pull him into a kiss, and how it would somehow not feel out of place with the rest of their day.
That was the first evening, perhaps, that the desire for a moment like that had completely overwhelmed him. It was like he’d convinced himself that it was out of character for him to want something like that, let alone initiate it, but the feeling had gripped him and not let go: in the taxi, he wanted to reach for his hand. When they said goodnight, he didn’t want to leave him. He needed to reach out and feel Neil respond; to receive some kind of acknowledgement that this was something they both wanted.
It wasn’t just a moment he’d wanted that evening. He wanted to tell Neil that this evening felt like a vision of how he wanted his future to be. Not necessarily the location or the activity, but just them, relaxed days together, letting their guards down, being openly flirtatious and affectionate with each other, more of their hands on each other, and the feeling that they would infinitely take care of each other. He didn’t think it had ever felt so incredibly possible for them.
After, Chris felt so disappointed that he’d not acted on the things he’d wanted to say or do, and the exact pin-point moments he could’ve done so already loomed large in his mind, like one immense missed opportunity after another.
He knew the current main reason why he couldn’t: the chance that he’d got it wrong about Neil and Mark. As much as Chris wanted to ask, he found that he couldn’t bear to find out that it was some ongoing situation Neil was hoping to resolve. But equally, if Neil told him it had ended, with an appropriate moment there in the palm of his hand, would he be able to tell him everything else he wanted to say? Or would he let that moment pass too?
He wondered too why Neil wasn’t saying anything on the subject. He wondered if Neil was just as nervous about his response if he told him. Maybe he couldn’t bear to talk about it and be met with his silence.
A few days later, they’d shared a visit to a gallery in Arizona during which he’d concentrated on Neil more than the artworks, after which they’d sat opposite each other at a small cafe table, where Chris had been indulging himself in details: Neil's hands curled around his cup, his mouth, his eyelashes when he looked down. When had he started noticing the soft lines around his eyes and how beautiful they were when he smiled? Neil would not be impressed that he was noticing them in the first place. He was slowly going to drive himself insane with this stuff, and he was being so brazen with all his staring at this point.
They had a flight later that day to a new city. Remembering this, Chris sighed and barely stifled a yawn. “Wish we had time for a nap before our flight tonight”, he commented.
“We?” Neil’s face lit up, his eyes crinkling with joy in the way Chris had just realised he loved. “You or both of us? Are we napping together or separately here?”
Chris rolled his eyes, mock annoyed. His face felt hot. “Shut up, Neb, you know what I meant-”
(Neil always claimed he used his Smash Hits nickname when he’d run out of ways to tease him).
“I can join you if you like”, Neil continued, clearly delighting in annoying him.
“Neil”, Chris grumbled, hiding his face behind his coffee cup. “Leave me alone, I’m tired.” Then he smiled wryly. “Anyway, we’ve had naps together before. For example, on-”
“Tour buses? How could I forget? Being kicked in the face by you in a tiny bunk bed somewhere on the road in 1991.”
“Oh, don’t start with that one”, Chris complained. Clearly he was on the losing side of their verbal duels that day, but he couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up in him at the old memory. Both of them trying to catch little moments of rest on either side of a small bunk bed, probably after a flurry of early morning interviews, many years ago.
“You never sleep anyway!” Chris complained. “Every time you say you’re going to rest during the day you just end up- talking, endlessly. And usually at me.”
“That’s not entirely true”, Neil argued. “I’ve taken a few power naps during this tour, usually while you’re taking your own. Your presence helps; you help me slow down and enjoy things”. He smiled, tidying the cutlery on the empty plate in front of him. “In fact, I enjoy everything a lot more with you.”
Chris looked down at the table, which suddenly really did feel way too small for both of them. A familiar heat rippled through him. Then he felt the back of Neil’s fingers trace over his wrist, similar to how they’d skimmed over his arm at the vineyard, and the touch felt luxurious, rare; maybe even dangerous, though it was more reassuring and affectionate than suggestive. Either way, it made Chris’s eyes dart back up to him. Neil’s eyes were gentle, kind; asking him silent questions as he observed him. He felt like Neil was saying, let me compliment you, or I’m nervous about this too.
Chris smiled a shy smile, which Neil mirrored back to him. He felt then that Neil must have a pretty good idea of what he was feeling. It was like they were repeatedly testing the waters through glances, touches, smiles, and these felt like unchartered waters now. They were swimming in this hazy feeling of almost, and while part of him found it almost unbearable, part of him never wanted the feeling to end.
Lastly, this very evening, prior to his sleepless night, there had been their most recent show. It had felt especially enjoyable; the energy at the venue was palpable and joyous. Neil and him left the stage grinning and Chris was buzzing when they were back in the dressing room, watching as Neil gulped down about half a litre of water. They looked at each other in acknowledgement of what had been a special show, and Chris felt that desperate pull again, to walk up to him and kiss him while he leaned on the dressing table. He imagined a deep, endless kiss that wouldn’t even stop when their tour manager unwittingly opened the door to congratulate them, only to swiftly close the door again red-faced less than a second later.
Chris wished that everything could smooth itself out and fall into place just like that, through a kiss, but too many questions remained. It was all too fragile and complex and he knew he needed to talk to him first. He didn’t want to make a careless move again like he had in the past.
It never seemed like the right moment to bring everything crashing into that conversation. Not when they were working, not when they were with their team, and when they had time off alone together, the balance of tension and comfort between them felt so tenuous (and often blissful) that Chris didn’t want to plummet everything into chaos by asking about his marriage out of nowhere, or worse, telling him why he needed to know so much in the first place.
That moment between them, of making it too obvious, of pushing so far that he couldn’t go back, had always scared him, but now he was staring right at it, and the difference was that this time, he knew he wanted to move right into it. Now he was only in search of the right words, the right moment.
No wonder he couldn't sleep.
Chris fished for the phone lying on the bedside table in the hotel room. He unlocked the screen with a sudden need to know if Neil was also awake. He had the feeling that he most probably was. In a rush of need for some sort of contact, he opened his messages with Neil, thumbs hovering over the keypad.
He just wanted a quick exchange, acknowledgement of their joint inability to sleep, anything. He didn't usually text Neil in the middle of the night on tour but it also didn't feel like a usual night.
‘Are you awake?’ he sent without further deliberation.
The grin that spread on his face when he saw that Neil was typing was quite something.
‘Very awake’, Neil replied seconds later.
Chris smiled at the two words. He was deciding on his reply when Neil followed up with a new message:
‘I'm actually at the hotel bar’
Now there was a little plot twist. Chris typed frantically on the little keypad.
‘What? Are you partying without me??’ he sent back.
‘Yes, I'm "partying" with my old friends: insomnia and over-thinking.’
Chris chuckled. ‘mind if I join you?’ he sent, but he was getting ready to go downstairs, throwing on some joggers and a hooded sweater, before Neil had even replied. The idea of Neil sitting in the bar was too intriguing, there was no way he wasn't going down there to see him.
Whatever he was expecting, it was not for Neil to be sitting in the booth furthest away from the bar in the corner, nursing what appeared to be a mug of tea.
Neil spotted him when he entered the room, and was watching him intently as he approached.
Something about seeing Neil there made anticipation and even nerves fizz in Chris’s belly. He’d spent the best part of three plus decades with him, so needless to say seeing Neil didn’t usually cause such a strong physical reaction in him, and he couldn’t say what it was exactly: seeing him sitting alone bathed in the low lights of an empty bar, the way Neil was looking at him, the surprise of their unexpected late-night meeting, how good Neil managed to look even after a long day and half a sleepless night, or all of the above.
Chris stood in front of the booth for a moment, arms crossed over his chest, observing him.
"Is that...tea?" he asked, chuckling.
"Yes, green tea. Any problem?" Neil defended with a humorous tone, as Chris sat beside him in the booth.
"It's just," Chris laughed, "if you think about it, that's got to be one of the least popstarry post-show drinks you could ever have.”
"Yes, well, if we always lived in a popstarry way after this many years, we probably wouldn't be alive by now.”
Chris smiled. "Also, Neil, if you're going to sit alone late at night at a bar, you're meant to actually sit at the bar, and be drinking whiskey on the rocks, and talking to the bartender about your problems."
Neil looked at him quizzically. "Is it that obvious that I have problems?"
Chris averted his eyes and started playing with the drawstring on his hood. "I mean, don’t we all."
It seemed they were leaving the shallow end of the conversational pool here.
Neil sipped his tea. "Well, you’re looking at an upcoming divorcé, so there's that."
Chris felt his stomach swoop and sink, despite the fact that it was not exactly a surprise to him.
"Oh. I-", he hesitated. "Sorry, I didn't know-"
Chris had been waiting to hear Neil talk about this for months and now, here they were. It was all toppling down on him and he didn’t even know what to say.
"We separated before the tour began, so it’s not a shock to me," Neil added.
A strange silence settled between them. Realising Chris was not going to say anything else, Neil continued.
“It was a mutual decision, really.” he said into the air between them. “He’s got his career and his friends; I’ve never really been a part of that. I’ve got well, the same things, and he’s never felt a part of that. I thought that was a good thing really, most people complain that I’m always away. Anyway, I thought that when we moved in together, and then when we married, that things might be different; that it would feel more settled, more cosy I suppose- I know that sounds ridiculous-”, Neil faltered and paused. “I think we fell in love, for a while, but living together, being married to each other, wasn’t right for us.”
Chris dug his fingertips into the faux leather seat beneath him. “You’ve always liked the idea of getting married”, he muttered.
Neil smiled. “No. Well, yes, I do like weddings, but no, I don’t think it was specifically marriage I wanted. I think what I wanted was the feeling of finding a home with someone.”
Chris concentrated on the drawstring on his sweater again, twisting it between his fingers. He was about to unravel the whole garment at this rate. The topic felt so painfully close to his heart.
“And you didn’t find that with him?” Chris failed to keep the edge of hurt out of his voice as he said it.
“No, I didn’t.” Neil opened his mouth again but said nothing more, and Chris could tell there was more that remained unsaid.
Another heavy pause fell between them.
"Got any problems to match that?" Neil asked, taking another sip of his drink. It was a loaded question and Chris knew it.
Chris shook his head as a reflex more than anything, but he was very aware of the promise he'd made to himself at Neil's wedding and he was going to say something, to push things forward. He was just figuring out which words to use.
Neil sighed. "I wish I knew what was going on with you sometimes", he admitted. He didn't sound angry; his voice was wistful, sad almost.
Chris knew he was being handed the opportunity to open a new conversation on a silver platter. He stared down at the seat again, just to visually focus on something other than Neil's expectant face.
"There's things I want to talk to you about", he started. "A lot of things. The past, the future, things involving us. Not about our career. Do I need to explain what I mean by that?"
Neil inhaled sharply. “No, you don't. I would also like to talk to you about those things.”
Chris swallowed hard, and pushed on. “I really like how it’s felt with you on this tour”, he continued. “I love being close to you-” he paused, faltering. “I wish we could have more of that.”
Neil nodded, his eyes were wide and bright. “We can have that. Can’t we?”
Chris didn’t know if that was a rhetorical question or not, but Neil was looking at him expectantly, and Chris thought he was looking at the wrong person for reassurance, since he had barely known how to start this let alone delve deeper into it, and for a moment it was like they were suspended in a silent moment, both of them unsure of how to grapple with this unknown terrain.
Neil refocused eventually. “What else would you like? I mean, how would you like it to be between us?”, he asked. He clutched his mug of tea, which was surely very empty by now. Chris could tell that he must be nervous, and rooting around for the right words, just like him.
“What I mean to say is; whatever you dream of, Chris, I’d want to make that happen for you”, he finished eventually.
“Neil-” Chris interrupted, embarrassed, almost. “I don’t want- You don’t need to say things like that-”
“Why not?” Neil asked. “I love you and I want you to be happy.”
The words made Chris flush with warmth and look away, again, like Neil had thrown him another compliment he didn’t know how to deal with.
It felt like they’d gone from zero to a hundred, but there was something very Neil about it that made him smile. Chris could circle around what he wanted to say for hours, and then Neil would shoot an arrow right into the centre of what this was all about.
And there was a lot for him to get his head around packed into the few words Neil had said.
The first thing that struck him was the way Neil said those things, so plainly and directly, when they were statements that carried so much weight and meaning. The second was the conviction he said them with, like Chris was hearing first hand just how unwavering Neil’s feelings for him were. He said those things like he had never, ever doubted them. He was offering him everything, and telling Chris that his happiness was as important to him as his own.
Chris then understood what he meant. Neil wasn’t talking about grandiose or sentimental things when he asked about what he dreamt of, but rather, he was just inviting him to think first and foremost about what he wanted, rather than everything that worried him. Neil must’ve known that he had been notoriously bad at doing exactly that. He wanted him to pinpoint the things he wanted in order to get past everything else; any fear, past misunderstandings, or anything else they could get caught up in.
Chris looked at him again. He supposed it’d take some getting used to talking about those things, but they had to start somewhere.
He took a deep breath. “I think it’ll take some time to think about - all that, the future, things I want, I suppose. I just know I want it to be with you, more than anything.” He paused, then continued: “What about you? What do you want?”
Neil’s shoulders relaxed, his expression softening. He considered his words. “To be closer to you, to talk to you about everything”, he paused. “To love you and be loved by you.”
Chris nodded slowly, pressing his hands into the seat beneath him as if to steady himself. “You are loved by me”, he confirmed gently.
Neil reached out and framed Chris’s face with his hand, caressing his cheekbone with his thumb for a second in a way that made Chris feel a bit breathless. “I know.”
Chris sighed shakily as Neil’s hand fell away from him. “You make it all sound so easy”, he mumbled.
“Maybe this isn’t as complicated as we’re making it.”
“Isn’t it?” Chris asked quietly, almost like he wasn’t sure he wanted Neil to hear him.
“What worries you?”
What worried him? There was so much he could say, it rendered him quite speechless. How could he explain the amount of time he’d not even wanted to allow himself to dream about anything? The ways in which he’d sought to numb so many good and bad feelings? How impossible this conversation had felt for so many years? The many things that still worried him about letting this realm of feelings for each other run riot amongst everything else they did together. The thought of him and Neil burning bright, then crashing and burning, arguing, unintentionally hurting each other, because he was not naive enough to think it’d be a fairytale.
The silence stretched between them. Neil shifted his position in the seat.
“You’re not sure about something”, Neil stated quietly, half question half comment. Chris wondered if Neil might mean not sure about him in some way, and the thought of that made his heart sink.
“I’m sure about how I feel about you”, he clarified. “It’s just- everything else I suppose. It’s not been easy, let’s put it that way.” Chris huffed a breath. “You know I’m not good at talking about this kind of thing-”
Neil took one of his hands between both of his and squeezed tight, and already, Chris knew whatever fears he had didn’t stand a chance against how good that felt, how warm and how needed Neil's immediate touch and reassurance was. Neil told him many things: that he understood, that he had fears of his own, that he wanted to know about those things. There was no judgement, he wanted to hear everything that worried him, and everything that he longed for.
Chris thought this might be the moment he became an emotional wreck and told him he couldn’t do this, but it occurred to him that the moment that could’ve happened had already passed. None of his doubts felt big enough to stop him getting closer to Neil. There was an immense feeling of inevitability, that no matter what happened between them, they’d somehow be closer now, like their instinctual need to look after each other had taken over.
Now Neil had his arm around him, his other hand thumbing away a few stray tears, which felt equally as inevitable. Chris had expected this, given they were touching topics that felt so deeply personal. It felt like the slow beginning of a longer catharsis of emotion, but he didn’t feel sad. Rather, he was emotional just thinking about how the young man he’d met all those years ago still cared so passionately about him, and about all the years it had taken to reach this point.
On the other side of the large room, a bartender was facing away from them, polishing glasses to the sound of a barely audible radio station, completely unaware of the things that were unfolding in the far corner of the room. It struck Chris that it was kind of funny that this was happening in a hotel in the middle of an American desert at 3am, and at some point, he thought, Neil and him might laugh about that.
“We can talk about all those things, you know”, Neil was telling him.
“I was worried you might say that”, Chris answered with a tentative smile.
Neil smiled back. “Who knows, if we talk, we might even share some laughter at some point”, he joked, and they both laughed a light, airy laughter they probably both needed.
“Yeah, you’ll probably see me crying once or twice too”, Chris admitted.
Neil reached out and caressed Chris’s cheek again. “You don’t need to hide any emotions from me”, he reassured.
“I know that”, Chris mumbled gently. Neil's words did mean a lot; it was the clear and grounding sense that Neil was not afraid of whatever he had to say, and that this was someone who accepted him so completely, flaws and fears and all.
“Nor do you”, Chris reached out, experimentally framing Neil’s face with his hand, just as Neil had done. He meant it. As calm and level-headed as Neil had been during their conversation, he wondered what else he’d been feeling. He wondered if he’d been more affected than he let on by what happened with his marriage, if maybe he’d simplified the way it had fallen apart. He wondered how Neil had slowly come to the same conclusions as him. He didn’t know yet, but he wanted to let Neil tell him, over the coming days, weeks, years.
He traced the side of Neil’s face affectionately, watching as Neil closed his eyes and exhaled softly, and Chris thought about the powerful effect their touch seemed to have on each other. He let his hand fall slowly and squeezed Neil's hand, smiling.
The air was thick with things they could say to each other, but not in an uncomfortable way. It felt like the groundwork was already set. With few words they knew very well what each other was feeling and what this meant, but it was only the start of them getting closer.
Neil suggested that they continue talking tomorrow. Even as he said it, Chris became aware of how exhausted he was. They both needed to sleep. They agreed that after their flight tomorrow, they'd settle at their hotel and then go for a walk together. It was an open invitation to express many things: about how they’d been feeling, what worried them, and what they wanted.
"What time do we have to leave for our flight tomorrow?" Chris asked.
"Ridiculously early", Neil replied. "We should try and sleep. Whether or not I actually will is another story but I should at least try."
They left the bar and headed to the elevator. Once inside, Chris watched Neil instinctively reach out to him, his arms wrapping around him, and Chris let his head rest on Neil's shoulder. If I just tilt my head up slightly, Chris thought. He did, leaning in, and the next thing he felt was Neil's mouth against his. For a split second Chris wondered if he should have closed the space between them, he didn’t know if Neil wanted this now. Then he felt Neil's arms pull him in him closer, one of his hands moving to cradle the back of his head. So he lost himself for a moment in the feeling of Neil's mouth, and their kiss; tentative, gentle, but lingering enough to feel hot and tender. A bit more touching each other’s faces and a lot of feeling Neil smile into the kiss.
As the doors slid open, they broke apart, both walking out feeling a little dazed and several degrees hotter. As they walked down the corridor, Chris slipped his hands in his pockets, smiling, looking down bashfully, trying to settle everything that had just happened in his mind. It had been brief but intense - a moment of bliss and a promise of more, the touch of Neil's mouth and hands so intense and real, the effect of their closeness reeling in his mind.
Chris caught Neil's own smile as they bid each other goodnight in the corridor, and had the feeling that everything was developing just as it should.
Something new was blooming between them. Tomorrow they would talk. Sure, Chris would probably be nervous to go deeper into those conversations, and yes, he still worried what the future held for them; but he kept with him something Neil had said to him at the hotel bar when he’d been admitting the fears they would soon discuss. Neil had said: "We love each other, don't we. Everything else we can work out."