the morning after.

part two - a month later.

Jonathan let himself into Chris' apartment without knocking but stopped just inside the doorway, surprised to see a group of four men sitting around the kitchen table. They were laughing and talking loudly, and none of them noticed Jon for several moments. He stood , holding a bouquet of flowers and feeling suddenly embarrassed and out of place, debating his next move.

He saw Chris from the corner of his eye as he was coming out of the kitchen. Chris caught glimpse of him at the same time and  faltered in surprise. He was carrying two bottles of  beer in one hand and a plate of sliced salami and cheese in the other, and he stopped on his way to the table. "Jon," he said, his surprise quickly  sliding into happiness. His smile eased some of Jon's nerves, although he still felt like he'd walked into something he shouldn't have.

"Sorry to interrupt," Jon said, noting the other men had all fallen silent and were staring at him. He quelled the urge to fidget. "I didn't realise you were having a party."

"Just some guys over to watch the football," Chris said. He looked at the flowers, his dimples deepening. "Those for me?"

"No they're for me," one of the guys at the table piped up, earning laughter from the others.

"I should've called first," Jonathan said. "Or knocked, I suppose."

"Who's that Chris, your boyfriend." one of the guys said as laughter from group erupted again.

"Course not," Chris answered with a small frown. He walked over to set the plate and bottles on the table, then crossed toward Jon. "Everything okay?" He asked.

Jon regarded him in silence for a few seconds, taking stock of the situation. Not only had Chris not invited Jonathan to watch the football (not that Jon's remotely interested in football.) - or even mentioned it - but he also hadn't told his 'friends' about him .

"Chris getting flowers?" one of the men said. "Guess we know who's the girl in the relationship."

"Shut up, Tony," Chris said without looking back.

"Don't mind him," Matthew one of the other men at the table called out, "Hes vying for the biggest dick award."

"And not the good one," another guy added, and all four of them laughed.

"Charming friends you have," Jon told Chris.

"They're harmless," Chris said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "seriously, what's up?"

"Nothing. Sorry, I should go. Here." Jon held the flowers toward Chris, who took them automatically. "you can throw them away when I leave, to save face with your football buddies."

"Jonathan," Chris said, grabbing the sleeve of Jonathans shirt when Jon started to turn toward the door. "You mad at me or something? I would've invited you but-"

"I'm not angry, I'm-" Jon stopped and sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, "embarrassed, I guess," he muttered. "I thought we could talk, but your busy so it can wait."

"Talk?"  Chris asked with a frown. "We can go in the other room."

"We wont listen, honest!" someone offered, and the other men laughed

"No," Jonathan said. "I don't feel like sneaking into the other room to discuss our 'friendship' while a bunch of half-drunk strangers make jokes-"

"I'm Adam!"

"Jason."

"Tony!"

"Matthew."

The four men threw out their names in rapid succession, clearly finding the whole thing hilarious, but Chris wasn't laughing- or even smiling. His forehead wrinkled, his whole face etched in concern. "Are you unfriending me or something?" he asked, his blue eyes searching for Jon's face.