Jeff awoke slowly, gradually becoming aware of a number of things. He became aware that he was in bed fully clothed, he became aware that he wasn't in his own room, he became aware that he was alone and he became aware that he could hear the shower running and Chris singing. Badly. How he managed onstage with Fozzy was a mystery to Jeff, since right now not only was he failing to hit the notes, he wasn't even succeeding in giving them a little girly slap.

Jeff groaned and pulled the pillow over his head, either to block out the sound or to suffocate himself. Both would work for Jeff as long as he didn't have to listen to the awful racket Chris was making. He wondered suddenly what vocal chords looked like from the inside, but he quickly pushed the thought aside. If his curiosity persisted, he could always get Matt to show him when he went home. Matt didn't seem to mind that sort of thing.

In a flash he remembered what he'd done the night before, and he lowered the pillow to stare at the ceiling while he tried to gather his thoughts. He'd kissed Chris. A lot. He was worried things would change between them, that Chris would either avoid him or want too much from him. He couldn't really explain that he was in a relationship. Chris sounded happy enough - but listening again, maybe it was just Chris' way of making him pay for taking advantage.

He hadn't taken advantage though, had he? He replayed the details of the previous night in his mind and was relieved to arrive at the conclusion that he'd only kissed Chris because it was what Chris needed. He'd enjoyed it, yes, but he'd felt only affection. He'd felt it genuinely - given what Chris had said he wouldn't have touched him otherwise - but there was no desire or lust. He just hoped Chris understood.

He closed his eyes again. He hoped Matt would understand too. Fortunately, these days Matt tended to let him get things off his chest and didn't interrupt him, so there was a good chance he'd be able to explain to him and stop him going off the deep end. All at once he missed him again, longing to have him curled up in his arms. He loved the way Matt would lay in his embrace, accepting his adoring kisses. He missed him so much he wasn't sure he'd survive the rest of the week.

He had to though. He had to teach loverboy a lesson. Matt was really offended that the evil bastard had thought he was just some cheap slut who could be lured away from his one true love with promises of sex. Matt wanted him to take care of it. And what Matt wanted, Jeff considered it his duty to make sure Matt got. Besides, he'd asked so nicely.

He'd gotten an idea for that from the way Chris had been the night before. It would require a bit of groundwork, but he didn't mind making the effort. It was for Matt, after all.

The shower stopped and seconds later Chris appeared in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Wakey wakey, rise and shine!" he bellowed, rummaging through a drawer for a pair of pants.

"Fuck off." You couldn't get much more to the point than that, Jeff reasoned, and he badly wanted a lie-in.

"Aren't we just a bundle of laughs in the morning? And that's no way to talk to your best friend." Chris moved on to the drawer his shirts were in.

"Alright then, fuck off Goldie," Jeff moaned, but it worked against him when his treacherous brain made a connection between Goldie and Goldie Hawn, and he found himself staring at a mental image of Chris dressed as Private Benjamin. Snapping his eyes wide open, he sat up and swung his legs out of the bed.

"Come on, Jeff, another day, another city. Think of all the fun you'll have!"

Jeff had worried about his own sanity on numerous occasions over the past few months, but now he found himself worrying about Chris'. Shooting him a dirty look, he hauled himself off to the bathroom to freshen up. When he returned Chris was fully dressed and flinging himself about in what Jeff could only assume was meant to be some sort of exercise routine. He couldn't help but grin.

"Jesus Christ. I'm gonna call 911, those are some serious convulsions you've got going on there."

"Oh, you're so funny, you should have your own TV show."

"What can I say, I'm just a concerned Jerichoholic."

"Jerkoholic, more like."

"How the fuck did you get to be a singer in a band? Who was the other applicant, the little fucking mermaid?"

"Excuse me?"

"What, are you going to claim that hideous noise while you were in the shower did not emanate from your throat?"

"I can never carry a tune first thing in the morning. Very few people can. And you should watch your language, there could be ladies present."

"Not being able to carry a tune is one thing, but you dropped it from a great height."

As they bickered back and forth while Jeff pulled his boots on, he was thankful to note that Chris was acting pretty much the same way he always had around him, back to his usual strong self. Nothing had changed, and they'd go on being best friends exactly the same as before. He felt his morning sulk begin to lift as he saw how good his life really was. He had good friends, an excellent best friend and a wonderful man who loved him. What more could he ask for?

Jeff slouched on the bed and hurled careless abuse at Chris while he packed. He still had his own packing to do, but he figured he could get in another five minutes taking the piss out of Chris first. Chris collected the beer bottles they'd left lying around the night before and arranged them on the windowsill, staring thoughtfully through the glass for a moment. When he turned back to Jeff his expression was serious.

"About last night..."

"Chris, I don't know what -"

Chris interrupted him, standing with his hands on his hips, bringing a little of his trademark good humour back to his face for a moment. "Did I say you could speak? No. Then shut your mouth, Rainbow." Jeff rolled his eyes, but sat quietly while Chris continued. "I know why you did it. You don't have to worry about that. I know we're just friends, but I know you meant it too. It did make me feel better, and I just... well, I just wanted to say thank you."

Jeff blushed. "I'm glad I could help. I mean, yeah, I did it for you, but it wasn't exactly a chore. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to." Feeling a little uncomfortable all of a sudden, he decided that he really did have to get on with his packing after all. "I've got to go, I've got to get my shit together, got a pile of things to do. I'll see you at the arena later?" Jeff headed quickly toward the door, not even looking at Chris now and not waiting for his response.

He got to the door and pulled it open, but was shocked to see Chris' arm shoot out over his shoulder and shove it closed again, before spinning him around and slamming him back against it. He just about managed to get out a squeal of protest before he felt Chris' lips pressed hard against his own, his tongue immediately forcing its way into Jeff's mouth. Jeff squealed again as Chris pinned his arms to the door, grinding his crotch against Jeff's insistently, making both their cocks snap to attention.

When Chris broke the brutal kiss he whispered, "That one was for you," then gave him a soft peck on the cheek before returning to his packing, seemingly oblivious to Jeff's consternation.

He looked up after several minutes to find Jeff still standing in front of the door with his mouth hanging open in astonishment. "If you keep up that goldfish impression, I'm going to have to start calling you Goldie. Didn't you say you had packing to do?"

Jeff fumbled behind him for the door handle and swung it open, backing out of it and closing it again, his expression not changing at all. He stood outside Chris' door for a good ten minutes before he remembered how to walk and set off for the elevator. The whole way back to his room, not even the mental image Chris had just given him of himself dressed as Private Benjamin could really penetrate his amazement that Chris had kissed him that way, and that he'd liked it too. He felt like the finger hanging around his neck was pointing at him accusingly.