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Cotton candy clouds and the creak of an almost ancient pier under the weight of neon-light carnival rides. Chris had his back to the end-of-summer chaos behind him. He’d rather focus on the vast, slumbering swell of the ocean; a counterweight to the rollercoaster squeals in his head. He’d picked the carnival for a reason. There was safety in numbers.
“When you said ‘by the ferris wheel’, I thought you’d meant by the ferris wheel, not hiding behind the popcorn machine by the ferris wheel.”
Chris turned, flexing his hands to stretch out some of the nervous tension making it hard for him to breathe. Mark smiled at him and offered him some of the popcorn he’d just bought. “No, thanks.”
Mark shrugged and shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “So what do you want to do.”
Looking at the buttery shimmer on Mark’s fingers, Chris had a sudden flash of something he’d very much like to do, but it wasn’t exactly carnival fare. “Ferris wheel?”
“Sure.”
They wove through the crowd and shuffled through the obscenely long line of excited kids and amorous couples who’d bribe the attendant to stop for a little longer at the top.
“I just talked to Mirelli,” Mark said right before they got into their car.
Chris nearly lost his footing on spilled soda trying to get in and process at the same time. “Jason?” he squeaked. Was puberty never ending?
“Yeah,” Mark said, side-eyeing him as the wheel started to turn. “He’s really excited about this script he got. Says it’s gonna be revolutionary or some shit like that.”
“Great,” Chris croaked.
“You okay, Chris?”
“Yeah.”
He was going to puke. This whole plan was skyrocketing to the stratosphere of stupidity. He wanted the fifty bucks he’d given to that bubble-gum popping attendant back. He hadn’t exactly planned on thinking about Jason tonight, though, around Mark, it was almost impossible to not think about Jason and--
“Fuck,” Mark whispered.
They’d stopped at the top. The clouds sat low on the horizon, more purple than pink, and the first hint of stars were starting to peek through the dusk. Mark’s eyes were focused out to sea. Chris couldn’t take his eyes off the way the neon lights below turned Mark into some sort of psychedelic angel gracing Chris with his presence.
What he’d thought be so hard was suddenly so easy.
He didn’t speak loudly. He wasn’t sure Mark was going to even be able to hear him over the noise from below. But he never should have doubted that. They’d worked together on enough hectic sets through thumping speakers, shouting extras, and over-bearing directors for Mark to not be able to hear him even if they were in real life.
“I didn’t break that balcony in Spain. Jason did. When he jumped off the balcony so you wouldn’t catch us together. We’d...spent the whole day in bed. Together. Like together-together. We hadn’t realized how thin the walls were. And then there you were. Checking on me. I told you my stomach hurt, but it was probably just a 24-hour thing. It wasn’t. I told Jason to punch me for verisimilitude. I didn’t want you to know about me and Jason. I...was so scared. But, I don’t want to be scared any more. You’re my best friend, Mark. You...mean everything to me. And I...fuck.” Chris bit his lip. He could do this. He’d made it this far. “I love you. More than a friend. Not like a brother. I’ve loved you since the moment I opened that door and you were there and you’d sent Bobby and Cole to--”
Mark looked at him full-on. For a moment, the psychedelic dream was a bad trip’s nightmare. Then, as the first firework of the night’s show whistled into the sky, Mark cupped his face and pressed his lips to his.
Chris clutched Mark’s wrists as the wheel started to bring them back down to Earth. He wanted to physically hold this moment for as long as he could. Who knew what touchdown would mean.
Mark pulled back just before they had to get out. With everyone else’s attention on the red and gold embers lighting up the sky, the only one who’d noticed anything was the attendant. She winked at them as they got out of the car. Chris’ nose itched and he quickly looked away. Mark threw an arm over his shoulders and laughed.
“I paid her a hundred to stop at the top,” Mark whispered.
“I paid her fifty!” Chris hissed.
Mark started laughing all over again which had Chris joining in. Mark’s laugh was one of his favorite things.
“C’mere.” Mark pulled him behind a tent. One of those rigged games with the milk bottles and baseballs. But Chris didn’t have time to contemplate how unfair it was that that little kid wasn’t going to win that over-sized stuffed dog in these money black holes, because Mark pressed him into the back wall and kissed him. With tongue. And a little bit of teeth. And even a tiny tease of hair pulling to get Chris exactly where he needed to be.
“Oh God,” Chris gasped when he pulled away for air.
Mark smirked. “Feels a little ostentatious for me, but if it’s your thing…”
“Shut up,” Chris huffed with a grin. He was so, so happy; a sugary rush like he’d gotten a corner piece of cake with a thick layer of icing without asking.
Mark studied him as the fireworks overhead went into finale overdrive. His thumb brushed along a cheekbone and jaw. Chris could barely breathe. To finally have Mark look at him like this, like looking at the perfect shot finally gotten after hot, dusty hours, was better than he’d ever imagined it’d be. He was so caught up, he nearly missed when Mark started to talk.
“I knew I was in trouble when I came to check on you in that hotel room. I’d been trying to convince myself that I felt the same sorts of things when I looked at Bobby or Cole or Jason or any one of them. I couldn’t. It wasn’t ever going to be possible for me to feel that way. My sister likes to point out that the string of boys I’ve hooked up with all look very, very familiar. She’s going to be insufferable now.”
Chris snorted. “Familiar, huh?”
“Cheap knock-offs really.”
Chris pressed another kiss to those lips he’d tried not to stare at when they were helping new stunt guys with routines or making jokes or telling outrageous stories.
“Do you want to get out of here, Chris?”
“Yeah.”
“My place or yours?”
“My place has a very nosy grandma, so yours?”
Mark leered at him, leaning close and murmuring, “Let’s hope these walls are a little thicker, hm?”