by Dawn Sister
“What are we doing?” he asked. They were both breathing heavily. Tristan shook his head,
“I don’ know, bud” he swallowed, “But it sure feels good.”
“Tris, I’m drunk.” Danny told him,
“So am I, bud.” He reminded him.
Danny moved off him to sit on the edge of the bed. His entire body was shaking and he didn’t know if it was from excitement or because he was shit scared: scared that he had reacted that way to Tristan’s kisses and caresses, but excited too. Tristan knelt behind him and ran his fingers down Danny’s back between his shoulder blades. Danny turned to regard him,
“We shouldn’t be doing this, not right now.” Danny told him, “We should talk about it, but when we’re sober and this Troy thing has blown over.”
Tristan frowned slightly, looking a little disappointed, but then he nodded in agreement. His own reactions had scared him too. Danny was his friend and his roommate and he shouldn’t have kissed him, or come on to him so strongly. Tristan hung his head and tears welled up in his eyes again,
“I’m sorry, bud,” he apologised, “I ain’t thinkin’ right tonight. I shouldn’t’ve done that.” He looked so upset and dejected that Danny wanted to reach out and kiss away all that hurt. That thought sobered him even more,
“Don’t be sorry,” he whispered, “We can talk about this tomorrow okay, when we’re both sober.”
“Ok, bud.” Tristan agreed and half stood to go to his own bed. Danny laid a hand gently on his arm. He didn’t even know why he was doing this, but he knew he couldn’t let Tristan sleep over there on his own in his present state of mind, so upset, so hurt. And he had promised Reuben that he would keep an eye on him,
“You don’t have to go though.” Danny said, his voice shaking with nerves, as if this wasn’t his best friend but some eighth grade date, “If you want you can sleep here.”
Tristan regarded him with shock and then smiled,
“Just sleepin’ though?” he asked and Danny nodded,
“Just sleepin’.” He mimicked making Tristan laugh.
They got under the covers and lay facing each other. Danny had closed his eyes, mostly because he was very tried, but also because he didn’t want to have to gaze into those blue eyes of Tristan’s in case he lost his resolve and something did happen they might both regret,
“Danny?”
“What?”
“Is this like a sleep over?”
“Tristan, shut up and go to sleep.”
“So it is like a sleepover?”
“I said we’ll talk about it in the morning when we’re not drunk.”
“Ok bud, you promise?” Tristan’s voice sounded suddenly very small and uncertain. Danny opened his eyes and looked into Tristan’s. Whatever happened from now he knew their relationship was never going to be the same. They had crossed a line that neither of them had had any intention of crossing. Tristan was his best friend and he couldn’t hurt him, but he also couldn’t let himself get hurt either. They would have to talk, and seriously about what had just happened and what they were doing now,
“I promise.” His grey eyes never leaving Tristan’s. There was a sparkle there and Danny felt butterflies flip over in his stomach, “Now go to sleep.”
Chapter 6: Stupid and Drunk
When Tristan woke the next day he was alone in Danny’s bed. That was the first thing he noticed, and for a moment he was confused as to why he would be in Danny’s bed and not his own. Then the events of the night before came flooding back to him. The realisation of what had happened and the aftermath and why he was actually in Danny’s bed made his head hurt.
That was the second thing he noticed: his head hurt. He moved his hands to massage his forehead and that was when he noticed the third thing: it wasn’t just his head that hurt, it was his entire body: his head; his toes and everywhere in between hurt like hell. Tristan groaned. Troy had given him a good beating and he was going to be feeling the effects for at least a week.
Tristan sat up painfully and listened, his head cocked on one side, his dark hair falling onto his shoulder. Danny was definitely not in the room, and he couldn’t hear any sounds from the bathroom. Danny usually sang in the mornings, even when he was cleaning his teeth, something he had heard some of Danny’s many partners complain about but Tristan liked it. He smiled: it was one of his friend’s quirky little habits.
They had effectively lived together for over a year now and had become accustomed to each other’s little routines. They had become used to each other. Tristan hadn’t wanted to jeopardise their friendship or complicate it but one kiss later and he was afraid he had. He wondered when Danny had woken up and left. He hoped that he had gone quietly so as not to disturb him. He didn’t want to think that Danny had left quietly to avoid an awkward situation. He hoped that they could still be friends.
Last night he had been feeling vulnerable and Danny had been so protective of him, holding him as he’d cried. He rarely cried in front of anyone and Danny had proved what a good friend he was by comforting him, rather than ridiculing him. He was grateful to Danny for everything he’d done that night to help him, but that gratitude had turned into something else and he had crossed a line he shouldn’t ever have crossed. He was very worried, now, that Danny would feel he couldn’t stay as his roommate. He had promised they would talk when they woke up but he was conspicuous, now, by his absence.
Tristan bit at a hang nail on his thumb as he mulled over what had happened after they had returned to their dorm room. He had made the first move, but he didn’t remember Danny making any objections, in fact it had been Danny that had continued it. Tristan remembered how good that had felt: Danny on top of him, his body, aroused and pressed against his. They had come very close to taking it further. Tristan would not have objected it was Danny that had stopped it. He hadn’t been angry, though. What that meant, Tristan had no clue. Did it mean that Danny was in fact not as straight as he always appeared to be? Did it mean that he was attracted to Tristan? Tristan had certainly always thought Danny was hot, but he had always been off limits because he was straight, and a close friend: in fact his closest friend.
Tristan groaned and buried his face in his hands. This was one great big mess and it was entirely his fault. He could feel tears beginning again and was glad that he was alone because he hated crying in front of anyone, even Danny despite the fact he hadn’t seemed bothered last night. He hated anyone thinking he was soft, or over emotional, or needy. Trouble was he could be all of those things when the situation called for it: or made him feel that way. Danny had seen that side of him a few times over the last year but not so dramatically as last night.
Last night had been just a series of stupid mistakes, one after another. Their costume choice had been stupid. Tristan had chosen them. The game had been stupid. Tristan had chosen that. The dare to kiss a random guy had been stupid. Danny had chosen that, but Tristan had agreed and followed it through. Going to the bathroom on his own had been stupid, even though Tristan could look after himself and everyone knew it, he should still have let Danny come with him, just that once. Kissing Troy had been very stupid, even though Troy had kissed first. Most stupid of all, though, had been kissing Danny, even though Danny had responded in a way Tristan could only have dreamt about and actually often had.
Tristan knew all these things had been stupid, and he felt more than stupid this morning because he had to face the aftermath of a drunken kiss with his best friend who was probably not going to be his best friend for very much longer. This more than anything caused the most pain. He loved Danny as a friend. Now he was afraid he had blown it entirely, just because he had been drunk and stupid.
The door handle turned and Tristan jumped, startled out of his self pity. He quickly wiped his eyes with his hands as Danny backed into the room carrying a couple of paper food bags and some cups, full of something steaming and smelling deliciously like coffee. Danny turned and regarded Tristan who was wide eyed and fro
zen in place,
“What’s wrong with you?” Danny asked, looking slightly amused, “You look like a deer caught in the headlights. I didn’t catch you jacking off in my bed did I?”
“No!” Tristan exclaimed in surprise, frowning slightly. Danny didn’t sound angry, his tone was teasing and if anything his expression was one of concern for his teary eyed friend. He sat down on the edge of his bed and handed Tristan a steaming, lidded cup of coffee and a paper bag,
“I brought you some breakfast, Tris.” He said, cheerfully, “I figured you wouldn’t feel up to going down to the cafeteria this morning.”
Tristan thanked him, his voice only managing a strained croak. He cleared his throat. Then he opened the lid of his cup and sniffed at the black coffee inside, sighing at the reviving aroma. He smiled, contentedly and Danny chuckled,
“There’s nothing like the smell of coffee when you’ve got a hangover, is there?” he asked,
“No there ain’t, bud.” Tristan agreed and took a sip, letting the hot liquid glide over his aching throat,
“The guys send their love.” Danny told him, opening his bag and pulling out a large, glazed donut, “Reuben wanted to come up but I told him maybe later. I don’t think he’ll be happy, though, until he checks you haven’t died in your sleep or something.”
Tristan choked on his coffee,
“I wasn’t hurt that bad, come on!” he exclaimed, though his hand went involuntarily up to his swollen cheek and eye,
“No.” Danny agreed, eyeing the bruises on Tristan’s face with concern, “But that didn’t stop them all lying awake worrying about you most of the night. You know how much everyone loves you.”
Tristan regarded his friend over the rim of his coffee cup. Was he including himself in that statement? He was behaving surprisingly normally considering what had happened between them last night. Tristan opened his breakfast bag and found his favourite cream donut inside. Danny remembered details like that; like how he liked his coffee and what his favourite breakfast was. He didn’t know any of his many lovers over the last year who would have remembered that he loved cream donuts for breakfast or black coffee without sugar, for that matter,
“You, er, got up early, bud.” Tristan said, avoiding Danny’s gaze, “I didn’t hear you leave.”
“I didn’t want to wake you.” Danny told him, shyly, taking a bite of his donut to hide his apparent embarrassment. He couldn’t hide his blush though. Tristan couldn’t think of a time he had ever seen Danny blush; it was, quite simply adorable, “I figured you’d appreciate a lie in.” he pointed to Tristan’s chest as he swallowed his mouthful, “How’re you feeling, ribs sore?” he asked. Tristan nodded his mouth full of donut, “Reuben said he could get you some strong painkillers if you wanted.” Tristan shook his head,
“I gotta be careful with those things. I got Aspirin in the bathroom.”
“Do you want me to get you some?” Danny jumped up. Tristan stopped him,
“No, Danny, I’m good, really.” He regarded his friend. He had never questioned Danny’s protectiveness and the way he was always there when he needed him, until now. Why was it that Danny was always so protective of him? What was behind his behaviour? His eyes clouded with uncertainty and confusion and other things he couldn’t even fathom right now, “Danny sit down, please. We need to talk.” Danny sat with a sigh,
“I know we do.” He said simply,
“Look, Danny I know what I did last night was wrong, I shouldn’t’a done it, I was stupid and drunk and caught up in the emotion and the stress of everything. I shouldn’t’a kissed ya. I don’ wanna lose you as a friend though.”
“Don’t worry, Tris, you won’t.” Danny’s tone was soft, reassuring but Tristan didn’t seem to notice the tenderness in his friend’s voice,
“I realise that what happened might make you feel uncomfortable bein’ my roommate.” He continued, “‘n I’ll understand if you wanna try ‘n change that. I c’n move out or you can. Probably I should, since it was my fault.” He stopped as he felt his throat begin to close up; tears burned in his eyes and he blinked them back only succeeding in squeezing two out which then ran unchecked down his face. Dammit, he was crying again. Danny must think he was such a baby,
“I’m not going anywhere, Tris.” Danny whispered. He had moved closer and placed a hand on Tristan’s arm, “I’m not moving out, and neither or you.” He told Tristan firmly, “We need to talk about what happened last night; about everything that happened last night, not just us, but everything.” Tristan knew he meant Troy’s attack,
“I already told you I don’t wanna report Troy.” Tristan told him, angry that he would bring this up again, “You know as well as I do that it’s his word against mine and even amongst our friends who’s gonna believe that he made the first move when it’s always me that does that kinda thing.”
“Yeah, I know.” Danny gave Tristan a sideways glance as he sipped his coffee and it was Tristan’s turn to blush.
Danny chuckled lightly. Making Tristan Gillman blush could quickly become a new hobby because he hadn’t met women who blushed as well as he did. He couldn’t help grinning at his friend’s discomfort.
Tristan had been wrong to come on to him last night, but the truth was Danny had liked it. More than liked it and that had at once excited and scared him. Tristan was hot, for a guy, Danny had always thought so in secret. He had always felt a little left out that Tristan would flirt outrageously with everyone but him. But then, if Danny was the only one he didn’t flirt with, perhaps he should take that as a compliment. He also knew for a fact that he was the only person Tristan allowed to see him as he really was: vulnerable, emotional. Tristan would certainly never cry in front of anyone else. He never allowed any of his many lovers to get that close. Danny had never told Tristan but he had been warned off so many times by jealous boyfriends it was almost laughable.
He realised that he was grinning inanely and that Tristan was staring at him. He returned Tristan’s gaze, looking into those amazing blue eyes. He could lose himself in those eyes. His own grey/green ones widened as his breath quickened and he swallowed hard. He had no idea what he was doing. He wasn’t gay, but here he was facing his best friend and wanting so much to feel those soft lips on his again,
“Dan?” Tristan questioned, and Danny gasped at the shortening of his name. He called Tristan “Tris” all the time but Tristan had always called him Danny. Tristan had called him “Dan” last night, as he had sighed into his mouth, their tongues brushing against each other. Danny gasped again at the arousal he was feeling just thinking about it, “Dan, are you ok?” Tristan laid his hand on Danny’s arm. Danny looked down at it and then up into Tristan’s deep blue eyes,
“That kiss, last night, did it mean anything to you, Tris?” Danny asked, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable,
“I was drunk, Danny.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Tristan sighed,
“You want the truth?”
“Always.” Danny was regarding him with an unreadable expression on his face,
“You’re a good lookin’ guy, Danny. I was drunk, and people do things when they’re drunk that they ain’t brave enough to do when they’re sober.”
“So you’re saying that you’re attracted to me?” Danny asked in surprise,
“Like I said, you’re hot, and I’m only human,” he looked away, “And gay.” He looked back at Danny, who was still smiling. Why wasn’t he angry about this, or pissed off? “You kissed me back.” Tristan said, accusingly,
“Yeah I did.” Danny confessed,
“Was that because you were drunk, or horny?”
