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“Fuck Kris.”
Bojan found that, while he was trying to be his usual slightly offensive, witty self, he actually meant it this time.
At first, he tried not to mind Kris being the last to come to the rehearsals and the only one to leave immediately. He really tried to rationalise it, too — not that it was hard to rationalise his behaviour; if anything, it was the only logical way to act in this situation.
Damon would be around for a limited amount of time before it’s back to not seeing each other for weeks again. And Bojan knew, they all did, as close as he became with them all, it was Kris who grew the closest to their new friend, and Damon, in return, seemed to prefer Kris’ presence over the rest of them, if only slightly.
It was the way his touch would linger on Kris the longest; the way his eyes would fall on him first when all five of them turned the corner to meet him.
So it was fine, really: in a couple of days, they’ll be all alone again, just the five of them and their usual crew, and hadn’t they spent three whole months living together, a whole month of it being just the two of them, in Bojan’s apartment?
If anything, he should be sick of Kris by now, not jealous annoyed that he would, naturally, be spending as much of their limited time together.
But as the band returned to the tourbus only to find both of them had already gone somewhere else, his unexplainable annoyance increased to the point he couldn’t even keep it to himself anymore.
“Honestly, they couldn’t wait ten fucking minutes before they fucked off god knows where?”, he heard his thoughts pouring through his mouth before he was able to stop them.
Nace and Jan looked at him with something resembling worry in their eyes, before Nace said, a bit tentatively:
“We still have like four hours until the actual concert. I don’t really see the issue to be honest. They wanted to go somewhere alone, we don’t always have to follow them around if they prefer having a…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t really have to, either.
“A date?” Bojan offered.
Nace shrugged.
“Sure, I guess. Like he and I would often go out alone back in Ljubljana. You didn’t mind that, did you? Or have you secretly hated me all this time?”
Bojan was taken aback, feeling a confused smile rising on his lips.
“Hate? What are you on about? This isn’t about Kris giving his undivided attention to someone else, you know.”
Nace raised his eyebrows, and Bojan didn’t really appreciate the smug look on his face, much less the words that followed.
“Isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not!”, he could hear himself becoming defensive.
“Why the fuck would it be about that? We’ve lived together for three fucking months, why would I mind finally being free of him for a while? It’s just… that… well, it’s not very nice of him to be fucking off without a single word for the last few days. That’s all.”
That had to be it… right?
“Sure, whatever you need to tell yourself”, Nace replied, but Bojan knew better than to poke the bear and find out what it was that that meant.
—
The gig went like every other on the tour. The audience killed it, they killed it, and Kris was once again the only one not to come out and greet their fans.
He had rushed off to someone much more important.
Bojan found them cuddled up in the main area of the tour bus, looking at something on Kris’ phone, and they..
They looked like a fucking couple the way the two of them did back at Bojan’s apartment.
He wasn’t sure what changed once they weren’t alone anymore, and why laying together like this was suddenly out of the question.
He was shocked to realise it hurt him; shocked to understand he missed Kris like this, relaxed and vulnerable next to him, like there was no one else in the world but them.
Which, again, made no sense. They still touched and hugged and sat next to each other all the fucking time, so why would he miss this one very specific thing?
Whatever the reason, he did; and seeing someone else take his place, even if that person was kind and none the wiser, made him angry beyond belief.
Before he could stop himself, he spewed, nonchalantly, in Slovenian so Damon wouldn’t catch on:
“You keep being the first to leave wherever we are. Might as well cut your salary if you’re gonna be slacking.”
Kris raised his head to look at him, seemingly (and understandably) pissed.
“I never leave before packing up my own shit, and I wasn’t aware we got paid extra for fan interactions. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous, Bojč.”
He held Bojan’s gaze, refusing to drop it, waiting for an answer, until Bojan scoffed.
“You wish.”
He turned around to leave for the sleeping bunks, before he could say another stupid thing, before he had time to think any more about what his weird feelings meant.
It was three hours later, everyone else was already sound asleep, but he still tossed and turned in his bunk. He heard Kris’ soft breathing above him, and twice he almost knocked on the ceiling of his bunk to get him to come down so they could talk about…
About what exactly?
Before he gave himself more time to second-guess what the fuck he was even going to talk about, he knocked three times and whispered a soft:
“Kris. Can you come down?”
He’ll just wing it; but the thing was, they did need to talk, because Bojan could sense his feelings were becoming an issue that might reflect negatively on them all unless they figured it out somehow.
Figured what out? His brain demanded to know, but by then, it was already too late to question it.
He could hear the thin mattress creaking and Kris’ feet thumping on the floor next to him. He moved to make room for him, his heart suddenly beating faster, way too fast, unexplainably so.
“Are you okay? Is it another panic attack?” Kris whispered, his face worried even in the near-darkness of their sleeping space, and Bojan’s heart felt like it would explode.
He suddenly remembered all the instances he was having an anxiety or a panic attack in his their home, and how Kris would always be there to hold him, to stop him from falling apart, holding him together and promising that he was going to be okay, that it’ll pass, that he was there…
And he felt a tear escape him.
“It’s not a panic attack. I just miss you”, he whispered and felt Kris’ body, pressed against his in the tiny bunk, tensing.
“Miss… me? We’re together practically 24/7, what do you mean?”, Kris asked, genuine wonder in his voice.
Bojan gulped, realising this was a mistake, all of it, wondering how to put this without sounding like a needy child.
“I mean… I miss when it was just the two of us. When there wasn’t a constant rush all around us, rehearsals, gigs, packing, unpacking, when we could just… be together, you know?”
He felt an arm circling his waist, Kris positioning himself more comfortably, ending up even closer, if that was at all possible in the tiny bunk.
“I’m sorry.”
Bojan shook his head; Kris’ face appeared more and more clear as he focused on it in the darkness, so he knew Kris would be able to see his, too.
“You don’t need to be sorry, it’s just how it is now.”
“No, I mean…” Kris started, “I’m sorry I haven’t been really around lately.”
Bojan had the notion Kris was going to say something more, but wasn’t sure if he should, so Bojan eventually took over.
“I get it. He’ll be gone soon and you want to use the time you have with him wisely, and… You fit, you know.”
Kris made a confused face.
“Fit… how?”
“Like…” Bojan gulped, feeling a painful lump in his throat.
“The way you look together. It looks natural. I just… miss being there instead. I keep thinking back to December and how often we just fell asleep watching a movie all cuddled up. I know you have a limited threshold of touch you can enjoy, and it seems like lately he’s been taking up all of it, so there’s nothing left for me.”
He realised how selfish that sounded, he understood it very well, but once he started talking, he wasn’t able to stop.
“And you don’t owe it to me, don’t get me wrong, just… I miss it. And I miss you. Even if you’re around all the time, it’s like you’re not with me , and it… it hurts. I miss us, I guess. Like that.
I know it’s dumb.”
He added, beginning to understand what this sounded like, all of it, and in a single second, he began freaking out, pretty sure Kris would also understand what it meant, and then it would just become weird between them, forever, and…
“I wanted you to kiss me. Out there. The other night.”
Bojan felt his face freezing in shock.
“You… what?”
“When you touched my face on stage. It… also reminded me of how we were, before. You were so gentle, and I know it’s just this bit you always do, usually with Nace, but I couldn’t help but…
I don’t know why. I keep wondering why I felt that way, and it never really went away, either, so for the last few days I’ve kind of tried avoiding you, I think. Because I would look at you and wonder what it would feel like to kiss you and I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, I’m really sorry I-”
“Do you want to know, still? What it… would be like?” Bojan asked, touching his face like he did a few nights back, feeling the soft skin, hoping Kris hasn’t changed his mind quite yet, asking himself what’s it to you?
He knew, at this point, the answer to that question. He could pretend he missed their days together, alone, simply because it was comfortable, because he missed their friendship.
The truth was, friendship was still very much there; what he missed was the thin line they walked for a month, the line that they were now finally about to cross.
Kris nodded under his hand.
“I do. Still.”
Bojan wasted no time closing what little distance the bunk left between their lips. It was soft and tender, and it still made his heart beat inside every single one of his pores.
I’m kissing Kris. I’m kissing Kris. We’re pressed together and I’m kissing him. His mind kept repeating, as if he was afraid it was just a dream he might forget unless he tells it to himself enough times.
He felt the hand on his waist pulling him in, felt Kris’ lips opening up a bit more, but he didn’t dare do more than drag an experimental lick across his lower lip.
The sharp exhale he ate up was nothing short of heavenly.
So he dared some more; his tongue parted Kris’ lips a little bit more and was met with his own halfway, and he didn’t know when his hand ended up in Kris’ hair, much less when he started pulling on it; all he knew was that this, here, it felt right, so, so right, as they moaned softly into the kiss, pulling each other in, trying to fit months of longing and unidentified pining into a single moment, to make up for all the lost time.
Eventually, they broke the kiss, panting, their foreheads pressed together.
“And? How does it feel to kiss me?” Bojan asked, going for smug, sounding turned on even to himself.
“Not sure, actually”, Kris replied, and Bojan’s heart was ready to sink.
“You might need to kiss me a few more times for me to reach an educated conclusion. I’m a man of science, after all.”
Bojan wanted to roll his eyes, wanted to exhale in relief, but all he could really do was go for another eager kiss, more than happy to do it a thousand times over, hoping Kris would always end up needing just a bit more of it to draw a sound conclusion.