“We, who?” Chris asked.
“Leah and I. Don’t worry,” he said, as if he’d read his mind. “But honestly, I don’t think anyone would give a fuck.”
“Been telling him that for weeks,” Marc mumbled, looking so unfazed by the situation Chris wanted to punch his smug expression away.
“So it’s been going on for a while,” Søren stated, cockiness lacing his tone.
“What we do is no one else’s business,” Chris countered.
“True. But you don’t need to hide it either.” Søren shrugged. “In fact, you better fucking tell Leah, at least. I hate lying to her and she wouldneverforgive me if she finds out I know this and didn’t tell her.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “She’s so nosy.”
“To be fair”—Søren put on a more serious expression—“even if she doesn’t show it, she’s been dead worried since this past summer.”
“Why?”
“Seriously?” The Norse frontman raised a condescending brow at him.
Chris knew why, but he was annoyed at the lack of importance everyone was giving to the fact that he and Marc were fucking. Had he really been exaggerating all this time?
“Whatever.” The guitarist crossed his arms over his chest, making the other two men chuckle.
Leah worried more for her friends than herself, probably some kind of fucked up reflection of her PTSD. Or maybe just empathy. She loved them fiercely, and although Chris and Marc were more than okay, and she knew they were kind of hooking up, she needed to hear the truth from their mouths, as if it weren’t real until they admitted it.
Something told him she’d be perfectly fine with them humping each other. But what about the rest? What about Erik?
“Anyway, gonna leave you alone,” Søren said while putting his cig out. “But I wouldn’t stay here much longer if you don’t want to answer uncomfortable questions.”
“What do you mean?” Marc asked.
“They’re making bets.”
The bassist shook his head, letting out a soft snicker. “I won’t even ask about what.”
“Yeah.” Søren grinned and walked back inside, leaving them by themselves again.
“So…” Marc started as he turned towards Chris, twisting his mouth.
“So…?”
“You said you’re not ready to come out, but it seems like they already know, or at least suspect, something is going on.”
“Yeah.”
Everyone accepted and adored Marc. No one had ever made ill comments about his sexual orientation. Yet, Chris couldn’t stand the idea of exposing himself like that to the questioning and the disappointment.
The guitarist hadn’t dated since his only girlfriend. Monogamy sounded so strange, especially with the queer element thrown into it. But telling them they were just experimenting while physically enjoying each other wasn’t an option. Not if they didn’t want to have Erik and Uwe constantly watching them like two fucking hawks to make sure they didn’t compromise the dynamics of the team. This was exactly why non-fraternization policies existed in some companies.Ugh!
“What is it?” Marc asked.
Chirs clenched and unclenched his jaw a couple of times before he answered. “Can we not get into any specifics?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like… Just tell them we’re not seeing anyone else and leave it at that. I don’t want them freaking out, lecturing, or reminding us how tense everything was after the fight this summer and blah blah blah.”
“I doubt they’ll ask for the details.” Marc shrugged. “But sure.”
