Chris doesn't always remember that people are always watching. Sometimes, right in the middle of where ever the hell he might be, he'll just zone. Lose himself to a memory, or to the anticipation of what's going to come to him later, secrets locked behind a smile that no one can begin to interpret. Whispers in his head, Polaroid-bright flashback to the kiss in the hall this morning when Steve walked up and eased against his body, smiled against his mouth. Left the imprint of that moment branded on Chris' skin to take him through the rest of the day.