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Crazy Is Just Another Word for Stupid, the Light of a Clear Blue Morning remix

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Christian isn't so lost in his whiskey and the girl that he doesn't also see Steve sitting with his guitar, tuning it up. He feels something in his spine, in the palms of his hands, and the back of his eyes, in anticipation of hearing Steve play and sing. Even while he flirts, Christian thinks about whether he'll go over there and join in or if he'll sit back and listen. He knows there's no real point in choosing while Steve is still tuning up. Seems no matter what decision he makes ahead of time he always ends up doing something else, whether it's singing or stopping after five beers or standing up in the back of the truck while Jimmy drives down the road. He's used to it, living on impulse and adrenaline, going after whatever seems like the most fun and worrying about the consequences.

It's why he's got this girl leaning close and laughing at whatever he's just whispered to her, why the glass he's holding keeps getting refilled, why he's here at a party in the first place when he knows he's got to be in an airport tomorrow at something close to nine in the morning. He most likely won't be asleep much earlier than -- well, if she keeps leaning in, pressing her breasts against his forearm, he won't be getting any sleep at all.

Christian grins at her and he sees the way she blushes and smiles back and yeah, this one's hooked, and it's definitely back to her place whenever they're tired of the party. He gives her a wink to seal the deal and looks back over at Steve. He isn't surprised to see Jensen sitting with him now, talking. He sees Steve say something, sees Jensen's reaction and he knows Carlson's got him agreeing to sing. Christian grins. That's definitely something he'll stay for, maybe join in and yet maybe not because he likes sometimes to just sit back and watch, let it all soak into him and let himself just forget everything else as he watches Steve play.

Just as he's about to turn back to his girl, Steve's suddenly putting his guitar aside, and he's getting up and walking after Jensen. There's a look on both their faces that Christian knows and something inside him suddenly starts to burn, gripping his throat, and he misses what the girl is saying. He feels her hand on his arm and he taps at it, almost pushing it aside but at the last second he catches himself because his manners kick in and his momma would have his hide. But he doesn't hear what the girl says because Steve is walking out of the room and he's looking at Jensen the way--

He's only ever looked at girls. That slow, uncertain fire in his eyes and the tremble in his hands that means he's looking and longing and never quite certain of what step to take, only right now it's pretty obvious Steve does know, because he's making them one right after another in Jensen's footsteps. Christian has only ever seen him do that when it's a girl, and usually one that's gonna tear him apart or use him and leave him and Christian has to stick around to clean up the mess. Normally that means distracting him with a beer and a jam session and, when he's back to himself again, Christian can tip himself into Steve's bed, gentle and easy like it's nothing.

He knows from the cold slam in his heart that he's missed something along the way. Steve's friendship is something he never thought twice about, no matter they were fighting or singing or fucking. It was always easy and always there and Christian has never felt like he had to force things, never had to work just to make things better. With Steve they're just always damn good, and that has always been good enough.

Neither of them says anything about the girls they spend the night with and neither of them -- as far as Christian knows -- has ever slept with another guy. The fact they sleep with each other is something that Christian shrugs off, just Steve being a friend who...was. It's just the way they are and he's never questioned it. Christian has never wanted to settle down with a girl anyhow, never met someone he's fallen head over heels in love with and wanted to make a life forever with. The only one he's ever seen himself forever with was Steve, and as long as they keep playing together everything is just fine.

Until now and suddenly it isn't fine, and Christian isn't exactly sure what part of this is wrong because he knows if Steve had gone off with a girl he'd have just smiled and tipped his hat and gone back to his own. But this is different, and he doesn't know if it's because Jensen is a friend or if it's because he's a guy but all Christian knows is that right now, without any warning, he can't just sit here and let Steve go.

He turns to the girl and smiles, apology and regret written all over his face and his voice. He drawls a little more, stringing out his accent to color his words, knowing the charm won't do much more than soften the blow. Might not stop her from getting pissed off, but better now while it's still early. He tries for her hand and he realizes he can't remember her name, and maybe that's the whiskey and maybe it's the warning bell in the back of his brain that he's doing something wrong.

It might not be too late. He stands up and leaves her, not really caring anymore if she's mad or if she'll find the next guy to take home. He hurries after where Steve and Jensen have gone, down the hallway and there's a partially open door leading through to the back. He pauses, hearing voices, and he stops to listen. Steve's voice, then Jensen's, and there's no mistaking the tone even though he can't quite make out the words.

He knows before he pushes the door open what he'll see. And he does see them, Steve and Jensen kissing, Steve's hands on Jensen's cheek, fingers splayed on skin when they ought to be playing a guitar. Christian is frozen, knows he has time to back up, get gone before he's seen. He doesn't know what he could even say, what he ought to say if they see him. He doesn't know if there's even a point, because Steve has never said a word to him that he might want Christian chasing after him this way. Christian has less than a second to decide, whether to run and leave Steve to it or to step forward and find out if he's lost his chance to make up for the fact that he's monumentally stupid.

He feels a cold breeze at the back of his neck and his fingers close on the handle of the door.