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“Something is different,” Andy said, leaning back in his chair and carefully eying Chris.
They had been playing matchstick poker for an hour, waiting for the pizza to arrive. Jamie had bought extra and was taking a large pepperoni to the two Secret Service agents that had been miserably holed up in the guest house whilst Chris and Jamie had literally been riding out the stormy weather in bed.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean something is different,” Watson repeated, eyes narrowing. “I mean, the last time I was here, it was obvious that you were finally starting to like your job and you and Barratt are getting along like a house on fire, but something is different this time and I can’t put my finger on it.”
Chris hid behind his beer. “Nothing is different,” he replied.
Of course, everything was different. The last time Andy had hung out with them, they had still been sleeping in separate beds, before Jamie’s last nightmare where Chris had held him close through the night, before their first definite hint of sexual attraction, before their first kiss. Chris’s entire world had changed in just over a week and it was apparently obvious. Or maybe it was just Andy’s hyper vigilance.
“Nah, something is. Are you guys sleeping together?”
Beer sprayed out of Chris’s nose, and he glanced frantically at his friend. Andy’s facial expression changed instantly from joking to surprise, then to disbelief. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”
“Shut up!” Chris hastily wiped his nose and mouth with the back of his hand.
Andy started to laugh. “Fuck me, I was joking! How the fuck did that happen?”
Chris glanced over his shoulder to check that Jamie wasn’t on his way back yet. “It just…did,” he said helplessly.
“Oh, my God,” Andy said and chuckled. “You are so fucked if the president finds out.”
“Don’t remind me,” Chris muttered. “Just please don’t say anything, Andy. Please. We’re going to address it when we get back to DC, but right now, nobody can know.”
Andy stopped laughing and grew serious. “Oh, so, this isn’t just screwing around? It’s actually a thing?”
“Yeah, it’s a thing.”
“My lips are sealed, bro.”
Chris sighed with relief. Not that he ever thought Andy would rat him out—they had been through too much together and Andy had always had Chris’s back.
Just then, Jamie came in, chuckling. Andy took a sip of beer.
Jamie grinned, sitting down. “Sometimes I forget that people grew up in places other than New York and they have no idea how amazing our pizza is.”
He shook his head with amusement and opened the giant pizza box on the table, taking a slice. He looked up, pizza halfway to his mouth, and paused, obviously realizing there had been a change in the air. His eyes slid from Chris, to Andy, and back again. “What?”
Chris glanced at his friend. “Andy knows,” he said dully.
“I guessed,” Andy corrected immediately.
Jamie looked between them again and shrugged before biting nonchalantly into his slice. “Cool,” he mumbled around a mouthful. “It’s cool, right, Andy?”
“Absolutely.” Andy reached casually for his own slice of pizza.
“Excellent.” Jamie beamed. “So, Andy, are you coming to my birthday party?”
Chris was dumbstruck again, marveling at Jamie’s unique way of handling situations. He had taken to Andy in the same way he had first taken to Chris—confident in the unspoken 85th pact that you could trust the other soldier to have your back. Jamie’s trust in them both was absolute, and now Chris was sure that he was in love.
* * * *
Everybody’s sobriety was a little blurred around the edges by the time Andy left. Jamie had offered to let him crash at the house, but Andy insisted he take a cab to a local B&B, which in turn Jamie insisted paying for. Chris closed and locked the front door and set the alarm before radioing in the last status report for the night. He turned to find Jamie standing in the hallway, all easy grace with his hands in the pockets of his jeans and smiling at him. Chris couldn’t help but smile back as he walked towards him.
“So…” he said, placing his hands on Jamie’s upper arms, giving them a light squeeze.
“So…” Jamie echoed. Chris adored the way Jamie looked at that moment, blue eyes slightly unfocussed, his center just a little off balance. Chris stroked his hands all the way down Jamie’s arms, pulling the man’s hands from the jeans pockets in order to hold them in his own. Jamie really had the most beautiful wrists…or maybe that was just the alcohol speaking. “This is a thing.”
