Bored.
by Helen

"Tell me a secret," Chris said, reaching out and poking Joey in the shoulder. They were lying on the floor with their feet up on the couch. JC and Lance were asleep in the back of the bus, and Justin was having a hushed conversation on the phone, hunched into the seat in the front of the bus. They'd been eavesdropping on him earlier, but it was the kind of boring conversation where he only said things like "uh-huh." and "I know, baby," so they'd given up. Then had then tried to eat something, but the only food on the bus was some sort of homemade venison jerky that belonged to Lance, seven bananas, and twenty-three tv dinners that JC had insisted on buying sometime last month in the name of nutrition and practicality, that they had all refused to eat. There had been a spell of mock wrestling, but then Chris had kicked Joey in the face by mistake, and after his eyes stopped watering and Chris had said "I'm sorry, you freakin' wimp," about sixteen times, they'd flopped down on the floor in front of the couch.

"What?" Joey said.

"Tell me a secret."

"Why?"

"Because I'm bored. I'm so fucking bored, you have no idea."

"I don't have one."

"Oh, come on. Nothing?"

"Not really," Joey said. Chris rolled over, facing him, giving him a faintly skeptical look.

"There's nothing you don't want anyone to know."

"Why would I tell you something I didn't want anyone to know?"

"But there is something."

"No."

"Oh, come on. tell me."

Joey sighed.

"You'll think I'm a jerk."

"I already think you're a jerk."

"Thanks."

"Tell me tell me tell me." Chris flung his arms around restlessly. "Come on."

"Okay."

"Go."

"I. don't really like—," Joey shook his head.

"what? Peaches? Miami? Clorox Bleach?"

"Shut up."

"okay." Chris looked at him attentively, widening his eyes.

"Digital Getdown." Joey said.

"What?"

"Digital Getdown. The song. I don't like it."

"Oh." Chris frowned. "Why?"

"Because it sucks."

There was a small pause while Chris sucked his breath in sharply, and then he began to laugh, helplessly, his face turning pink,

"Don't tell JC, okay?" Joey said anxiously.

"You think I'd do that?"

"You might."

"Come on," Chris said, stopping laughing. "I wouldn't do that."

"well, okay, then."

"Still, I could blackmail you," Chris said thoughtfully.

"I could beat the crap out of you, too."

"maybe."

They lay there in silence while Chris snickered to himself, until Joey said

"What about you?"

"It's not the best song ever," Chris admitted. "But I wouldn't be so insensitive as to say that about a song a friend of mine had written." Joey punched his shoulder. "Ow."

"I meant, what about your secret?"

"What secret?"

"The one you owe me."

"I didn't say anything about telling you a secret."

"You suck."

"Joe—"

"I think you kicked me on purpose."

"All right, you little baby, you want a secret?"

"yeah."

"Fine," Chris said, sitting up, folding his legs underneath him. Joey looked up at him, thinking that Chris really did look different from this angle. Quieter, maybe. From above, Chris often looked sort of sharp, sharp little features, flashing eyes. From the floor, Joey could see the soft flesh beneath his chin, the messy stubble on his jaw.

Chris drummed his fingers against his knee and wrinkled his nose, and Joey started to say something but was caught by the look in Chris' eyes, the late afternoon sun slanting across his face and rendering it momentarily unreadable before they passed something that cast Chris into shadow again and Chris looked over Joey's shoulder and said

"I—," before his voice cracked, and he shook his head, and smiled, looking down at his feet.

"What?" Joey said.

"Maybe later," Chris said, leaning back, starting to stand up, and Joey reached out and caught his wrist, pulling him back down, thumb wrapped across the soft skin of his inner arm. Chris pulled at him, but Joey held on, pulled Chris forward, and Chris nearly lost his balance, and there was a slight desperate twist to his mouth when he pulled again, and Joey's hand slipped, but he only held on harder, and Chris finally looked at him.

"Later," Joey said.

"later," Chris agreed, softly, and Joey let go of his wrist.