Big Book of Hatsome One Shots

Contemplations (S)

A.K.A. Smith Really Wishes He Could Stop Thinking Sometimes, but Some Dreams are Unattainable (wouldn't allow that many characters in the title)

TW: RPF, Aromantic Character, Quoiromantic Character, Introspection, Angst, Confusion

The silence was heavy, and Alex couldn't understand why. Ross and Chris were folded in on themselves, as if to minimize the amount of space they took up. He sensed it too, the uneasy air.

Outside the world was overcast, the faint rumblings of thunder on the horizon. It was dark, very dark, but inside Alex's room the yellow lights were on and the heater was running steadily in the background.

It was comfortable. Or, at least, it should have been.

But Ross set down his controller in frustration halfway through a versus match, and Alex'd been left punching at thin air.

"Jeez, mate, c'mon, I want to pound your ass legitimately," Alex whined, tossing down his controller as well.

It was then that the air had struck him; quiet, ominous. Chris, too, was strangely quiet. There'd been less heckling and name-calling tonight than probably any night they'd spent together.

It was Ross who began to speak, haltingly. "I don't know how to say this," he said, and Alex felt a nervous twinge in his chest. "I think I l- I mean, I think I'm in love with you."

The battle music played in the background, grainy from Alex's old speakers.

Chris said, equally hesitant, "B-both of us?"

And Ross' breath was unsteady as he delayed his response. "Yes," he said, and his voice was almost a whisper now.

The silence dragged on, and Alex felt the need to say something. Anything. But what?

Chris saved him, though perhaps not in the way he would like. "I'm the same. I mean, I love you, um, both of you."

Did they? It seemed so.

Now for the real question. Did he love them?

Quick, think.

He tried, but the silence was already dragging on too long, and it was now or never so he cleared his throat and said simply: "Me too."

Ross laughed, a short, desperate burst of emotion, and put his head in his hands. "Thank fuck," he muttered, and Alex felt he'd made the right decision, probably.

And Chris leaned forward and pulled Ross' hands away from his face and smiled at him, expression bright and leaning toward mischievous. Alex looked at his own hands and wondered what he should do with them.

Alex watched as Chris leaned in and kissed Ross, a sweet close-mouthed kiss. Ross' hand came up to rest on Chris' cheek, and Chris hummed quietly. A pleasant noise.

When they pulled apart Chris turned to Alex and said, "Didn't forget you, mate, don't worry," and leaned in.

Chris' lips were warm, he supposed.

He hadn't expected fireworks; he knew all of the bullshit about kisses was blown far out of proportion, but.

Surely he was supposed to feel something?

He opened his mouth against Chris', tongue questing, trying to find the appeal. But while Chris' mouth was wet and heated against his own, Alex still didn't understand what the point of all this was.

Now if he could push Chris down and progress to more interesting activities, that was another matter.

But Chris was already pulling away, and Alex figured that the two wouldn't exactly be up for fucking about a minute after confessing their affections.