American Idol: Chris/Blake: If The World's Falling Apart and So Are You
Title: If The World's Falling Apart and So Are You: Blake Lewis' Guide to Not Being a Girl
Pairing: Chris/Blake
Rating: PG-13? I suck at ratings.
Summary: When Blake wakes up, he can tell something's wrong. Maybe it's the fact that he's turned into a girl.
Disclaimer: Sometimes I think it's possible this happened. But uh, it probably didn't. And I don't own anyone in this story.
Notes: Thank you to onesong for beta-ing! :) Also, there is femmeslash (f/f) in this, but it lasts only like two paragraphs, and you can skip it. This started off as what I intended to be a short crack!fic, but sort of evolved from there.
Blake doesn't notice at first. He doesn't feel much different. He can tell something is off -- not so much as if, say, the world had collided with the sun in some freak cosmic accident, but definitely still wrong. It's his body, after all. He has that feeling where every inch of his body is uncomfortable, but he can't quite put his finger on it. Blake stumbles into the bathroom, peering into the mirror and rubbing at his eyes. The reflection staring bleary-eyed back at him is the same as always and he pushes the strange feeling to the back of his mind. When he backs away from the mirror, gaze moving away from his face, he suddenly realizes something is absolutely, unmistakably wrong.
Those were definitely not there last night.
He's a girl. Completely female, with breasts -- ordinarily he'd probably think they were cute, if they weren't on him, just there and undeniably existent -- and -- he checks -- yep, all the other necessary body parts.
Resisting the urge to yell or cry, or probably both at the same time, Blake pulls on one of his shirts, now the tiniest bit tighter but still noticeably baggier, and does the only thing he knows how to do when he's panicking in the face of an impossible situation: walks stiffly but quickly down to Gina's room, rapping loudly on her door. When she opens the door, he allows himself in, pulling Gina behind him. Without saying a word, he pushes her towards her bed, then sits on the bed across from hers -- Haley's, if he remembers correctly, but that doesn't matter right now. What matters is that he's a girl right now. He's a fucking girl. "I'm a fucking girl," he says to Gina, the words and the idea foreign on his tongue, and he can tell she's trying hard not to laugh at him.
"Blake," she replies calmly. "I know you like pretty, shiny things, and sometimes you get emotional. That doesn't mean that you're a girl though."
"No, I am dead serious. I'm a girl." To demonstrate, Blake promptly lifts his shirt -- he's not wearing a bra, since it's not like he had one laying around for fun, and it is obvious to the woman across from him that he was telling the truth.
Gina loses it now, and makes no effort to silence her giggles. This is not happening. Gina is not laughing at the fact that Blake has turned into a girl, because if she was, Blake might have to kill her. He would hate to be forced to kill someone he usually considers a good friend.
Gina sobers up when it becomes apparent that Blake is not amused with his situation. As she's patting him consolingly on his -- slightly slenderer -- thigh, they can hear the jingling of keys, and Haley walks in the door. "Hey, guys!" she says. She does a double-take when she sees them. "Um, Blake. You have boobs."
"Thank you, Haley," Blake replies dryly. "I hadn't realized."
She drops her purse on the table and sits down by Blake. "Okay, don't panic. No, don't give me that 'I'm cool' look, Blake, I know the first thing you did was run to Gina. Anyway, as I was going to say, I had a friend whose cousin's sister turned into a cat once." The other two watched her, waiting for more, and when it didn't come, Blake waved his hand, signaling for her to continue. "Oh, well, I don't know how it happened or how she fixed it, sorry. I do know that she drank a lot of milk, chased a lot of yarn, and then was back to being human in a couple days. You'll be just fine."
Blake lets out a huffy sigh. "And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"
Gina grins at him, glancing sideways at Haley. "I'm sure you can think of something, Blake."
"Sure, now you make thinly veiled naughty propositions." He runs a hand through his hair, which, thankfully, is still short and has not turned into long, luscious golden locks. "I guess I'm going to have to tell everyone else soon."
"Nah," Gina and Haley say. "You could still go on tour and no one would notice the difference," Gina adds.
Blake throws a pillow at her.
He does tell everyone, because it's not like he could hide it, no matter what Gina says. After some initial surprise, the others take it relatively well. Blake supposes that after going from an average high school student or working at a restaurant, to a household name with a record deal in the likely near future, anything seems possible. He wouldn't go so far as to say that the rules of reality itself had been altered, like their reactions seem to imply, but whatever, that means slightly less stress for him.
Blake shares his room with Chris, and although he trusts all his friends with his life, and knows they've all become a family, there's still the part of him that is worried that this will change things. The first night, he sits on his bed, legs folded and fingers playing with the hem of his plaid pants, and he looks at his best friend. "I can go share a room with one of the girls if this is too strange," he offers.
Chris shrugs. "Don't be silly. You're still you. We're still homies, B." He can tell Chris means it, but there's something sad in his voice, too.
Blake begins life as a girl, or at least as himself with a female body. He's read some stories online -- only out of pure morbid curiosity, of course, and only after his own situation; it's not like he had reason to before, it's not like he believed this could happen before. He's so amazingly glad that he doesn't have to worry about styling his hair or make-up or shopping for new clothes or all the other who-knows-what crazy things you're supposed to do. All the girls take him out to buy some of the necessities that he can't avoid, and that is that.
It's relatively easy to remain positive and joke about it with the others when it's still new, when the absurdity of the situation is still fresh.
But when the days pass and nothing changes, Blake gets a bit worried.
"Chill out," Haley says when he corners her. "Knowing of one person who turned into something completely different hardly qualifies me as the expert. Let's get your mind off of all this. Gina! Come here. We have work to do."
*
Blake has no clue why the two women thought putting him in a sequined top and make-up would "take his mind off" the fact that he's a girl. In fact, it seems like it would kind of amplify the whole thing. It's something he would never do, even in his female body. He keeps playing with the strap of his top and pulling down his shorts. He has to admit -- he looks like himself but slightly different, and allowing himself to play with that, with the possibility of being someone else for a while, is fun, even if it's just with the other Idols, even if he didn't initially do it by choice -- and even if Melinda slaps his hands away when he tries to "readjust" his breasts.
Jordin and Sanjaya are blasting some song on the radio in the car they're all piled in, and he's bobbing his head and beatboxing with Chris here and there. They're going out to celebrate his one week anniversary as a girl -- or, as Phil likes to refer to it, Felicia's birthday -- which, okay, it's kind of funny, but not that funny given that it's real now, and he's beginning to contemplate brutal murder again. It's not so good for his karma, but they deserve it.
When they enter the restaurant and are seated, Chris pulls his chair out for him. Blake tries not to roll his eyes at the gesture, and sits down. They order, and dinner passes with conversation and the normal amount of hijinks. Midway through, Blake can feel eyes on him, and he turns his head slightly. It's a woman, tall and slender with long black hair, seated with a group of friends. She's trying not to make it obvious, but her eyes are fixed on Blake as she sips her drink. A shiver goes up his spine.
Gina leans over. "Blakey's got a girlfriend," she sing-songs.
"Jealous?"
"Nope!" She smiles at him.
Later, after the ride back, he can't get the woman at the other table off his mind. Blake's been attracted to women before, he's dated women, so that is nothing new. However, he's never been attracted to a woman while he's a woman, too.
He stops letting Haley dress him up, reverting back to loose tops and his plaid pants. He skips getting his hair trimmed, but when he looks in the mirror, it's his own face -- to him, at least, only somewhat softer like his body -- and it's almost possible to forget for a moment. Although he's getting used to the situation, it's still so very hard for him to connect his mind to the undeniable femaleness of his body. It's a feeling that's hard to describe even in his own thoughts. Even as he grows more accustomed to his situation, the feeling of disconnection that was there in the very beginning never quite goes away.
Lying isn't good for his karma either, and with all the thoughts of murder he really needs to balance it out. He knows he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been trying to learn and explore his new body. He mentions it in passing to Gina, who offers to give him some pointers, and then without any warning Gina and Haley are on either side of him, like they've been waiting for this, devious little things they are -- tentative at first, then bolder as Blake responds -- and oh, it's been a while. Haley's kissing him, softly and slowly, as Gina kisses down his shoulder and works his shirt up.
"This is like some really cliché dream," Blake manages to say, shuddering at Gina's fingers trailing up his stomach, "and it's all very weird."
"Did you dream about this, Blake?" Haley teases, her hands joining Gina's. He gasps, a higher pitch than normal. "We know how much trouble you're having," she says gently. "Maybe this will help you get more connected with yourself." His shirt is off now -- and for a whole second, Gina hates him for being one of the girls who can get away with just a built-in bra in a top, but then she's cupping his perfect little breasts in her hands and running her thumb over rosy nipples. He tilts his head, raising his knees. Haley's hand brushes over Gina's again, and then wanders down to the waist of his jeans riding low on his hips; Blake grips her other wrist, and god, he's tingling all over, but--
Blake looks at Haley, and he's startled when he sees Chris' eyes instead of hers, from that first night, solemn and almost sad. He pulls away, shaking his head. This isn't right. "No. I'm sorry, guys, I know I'm a huge jerk for stopping, but I can't do this."
"Hey, no." Haley looks surprised, but she picks up his shirt and hands it to him. "You're our friend; we're not going to be mad."
Gina gives him a chaste peck on the cheek and backs up, giving him space, and it's like the whole thing never happened. "Tell us what the real problem is."
He sits back against the wall. He doesn't really know what the problem is. He doesn't know why his feelings for Chris -- feelings he'd pushed back because he thought he had no chance -- are suddenly taking over. He doesn't know why any of this is happening.
*
Blake notices a lot of women staring at him now; or, at least, he's more conscious of it now. Men are staring too, but more women on average. Ethan teased him once that he'd make a hot butch girl, but he never actually thought he'd get to test that out. He should probably be more flattered by the pretty brunette looking at him from the other check-out line -- she's not even being that subtle about it -- but he's not really.
Chris grabs his arm and he brings his attention back to the man in front of him. "C'mon, B -- Felicia," he says as he takes the bags. Chris seems to have settled with the idea of his best friend being a woman, and, much to Blake's amused annoyance, has taken to calling him after the female persona he had once created like Phil has. It also means they're hanging out more like the used to; things are almost back to the way they were, before, and he can't complain about that, even if Chris still insists on opening doors for him. The woman in the other lane takes in Chris' hand resting on his arm and turns away, and Blake is then aware how it must appear.
Something shifts inside him, realigns. The light comes on and he realizes what that really means. He can't believe it's taken him this long to realize that when he's out alone with Chris -- Chris, who is taller, larger, male, and Blake, petite next to his friend, hair still short but paired with his softer facial features -- they must look like a regular couple to everyone else.
Afterward, Blake sits in their common area, mixing some music on his laptop. The normal background noise of the other Idols and their various activities -- Phil on the phone with Kendra, Gina and Jordin picking on Sanjaya in revenge for something he did -- is normal, almost a soothing comfort. Chris comes into the room, sitting at the other end away from Blake, switching on the TV. Blake looks up at him. "If you're going to sit as far away as possible, I reserve the right to take up the rest of the couch with my legs."
Chris tries not to roll his eyes. "Man, I was just trying to give you some personal space."
"I'm just saying, you don't have to run away. I haven't really changed. You remember when you said that? Now you're acting like everything is different."
"Are you on your period?" Chris asks.
"No, thank you very much for asking, I think I have a bit of time before I have to go through that," Blake grits out, "and don't try to invalidate what I'm saying by implying that I'm just being emotional due to hormones."
Chris laughs, good-natured this time. "Spare me your manifesto. You're the one who thinks 'titties!' is a proper parting exclamation."
"Okay, yeah. But that doesn't make me a Neanderthal or whatever."
"I'm sorry. I'm trying to deal with this. That was a pretty big thing to happen overnight, you know? And it's just..." Chris trails off.
"Yeah, I know." Closing his laptop, he grins over at Chris. "I bet I can still beat you at Guitar Hero."
Chris smiles back. "Wanna bet?"
Good thing for Chris he didn't place any money on it, because Blake does win. He does a little victory dance, falls back on the couch, and -- there must be some kind of permanent aphrodisiac on him, seriously, because before he can blink, Chris is leaning in and pressing his lips against Blake's. It feels different, like it could be right, but he doesn't get the chance to react; as soon as it began, Chris pulls back and looks away. "Dude, what the hell was that?"
"I don't know," Chris shrugs. "It's -- it is different, no matter what." The feeling that they had returned to the friendship they had before this happened breaks with Chris' voice, and he leaves the room.
That's one of the weirder experiences he's had, Blake thinks. Which is saying a lot, since he's turned into a girl and all.
*
The sun spills in through the blinds, waking Blake. He rolls over, pulling the pillow over his head. Slowly, the realization that something has changed creeps into his foggy, sleepy brain. He sits up, inspecting everything, and yes -- finally, he's back to himself. Getting up doesn't seem so bad now, and so he wanders into the kitchen to make tea. Chris is in the kitchen as well, apparently back from a run. Blake really hopes this isn't one of those awkward morning after scenarios. He greets Chris, who stops what he's doing when he sees Blake.
"Is this the universe's messed up way of telling me it's okay to be gay?" he asks.
Blake almost drops the hot water. "What?"
"I said, 'is this the universe's really messed up way of telling me it's okay to be gay?'" Chris repeats. "Because I don't need that."
"I heard that part." Suddenly everything is starting to make sense, and it falls into place at once. "Are you saying that the real issue last night is that I was a girl, and the whole time before that I thought that I would never have a chance because you weren't into guys?"
"That sounds right," Chris says, laughing at their mistake. "But we should test it out, just to be sure." Chris leans in again, Blake's head tilted up. Chris backs him up against the counter, hands braced on either side of him, and Blake opens his mouth, sighing, to the other man. Chris' chest is firm and hard against his own, and he wraps his arm around Chris' lower back, fisting it in his shirt and pulling him in tighter, making a pleased noise. Blake doesn't know if he'd use the word perfect, but this is probably as close as anyone will ever get.
"I've got more action in the past few weeks than I did in the past year," Blake says jokingly when they break apart. At Chris' raised eyebrows, he adds, "Don't ask. All of that because I thought you were straight? We really screwed up, didn't we?"
Chris shakes his head, smiling his truly happy, giddy smile. "Not now. We just sort of delayed the inevitable."
Pairing: Chris/Blake
Rating: PG-13? I suck at ratings.
Summary: When Blake wakes up, he can tell something's wrong. Maybe it's the fact that he's turned into a girl.
Disclaimer: Sometimes I think it's possible this happened. But uh, it probably didn't. And I don't own anyone in this story.
Notes: Thank you to onesong for beta-ing! :) Also, there is femmeslash (f/f) in this, but it lasts only like two paragraphs, and you can skip it. This started off as what I intended to be a short crack!fic, but sort of evolved from there.
Blake doesn't notice at first. He doesn't feel much different. He can tell something is off -- not so much as if, say, the world had collided with the sun in some freak cosmic accident, but definitely still wrong. It's his body, after all. He has that feeling where every inch of his body is uncomfortable, but he can't quite put his finger on it. Blake stumbles into the bathroom, peering into the mirror and rubbing at his eyes. The reflection staring bleary-eyed back at him is the same as always and he pushes the strange feeling to the back of his mind. When he backs away from the mirror, gaze moving away from his face, he suddenly realizes something is absolutely, unmistakably wrong.
Those were definitely not there last night.
He's a girl. Completely female, with breasts -- ordinarily he'd probably think they were cute, if they weren't on him, just there and undeniably existent -- and -- he checks -- yep, all the other necessary body parts.
Resisting the urge to yell or cry, or probably both at the same time, Blake pulls on one of his shirts, now the tiniest bit tighter but still noticeably baggier, and does the only thing he knows how to do when he's panicking in the face of an impossible situation: walks stiffly but quickly down to Gina's room, rapping loudly on her door. When she opens the door, he allows himself in, pulling Gina behind him. Without saying a word, he pushes her towards her bed, then sits on the bed across from hers -- Haley's, if he remembers correctly, but that doesn't matter right now. What matters is that he's a girl right now. He's a fucking girl. "I'm a fucking girl," he says to Gina, the words and the idea foreign on his tongue, and he can tell she's trying hard not to laugh at him.
"Blake," she replies calmly. "I know you like pretty, shiny things, and sometimes you get emotional. That doesn't mean that you're a girl though."
"No, I am dead serious. I'm a girl." To demonstrate, Blake promptly lifts his shirt -- he's not wearing a bra, since it's not like he had one laying around for fun, and it is obvious to the woman across from him that he was telling the truth.
Gina loses it now, and makes no effort to silence her giggles. This is not happening. Gina is not laughing at the fact that Blake has turned into a girl, because if she was, Blake might have to kill her. He would hate to be forced to kill someone he usually considers a good friend.
Gina sobers up when it becomes apparent that Blake is not amused with his situation. As she's patting him consolingly on his -- slightly slenderer -- thigh, they can hear the jingling of keys, and Haley walks in the door. "Hey, guys!" she says. She does a double-take when she sees them. "Um, Blake. You have boobs."
"Thank you, Haley," Blake replies dryly. "I hadn't realized."
She drops her purse on the table and sits down by Blake. "Okay, don't panic. No, don't give me that 'I'm cool' look, Blake, I know the first thing you did was run to Gina. Anyway, as I was going to say, I had a friend whose cousin's sister turned into a cat once." The other two watched her, waiting for more, and when it didn't come, Blake waved his hand, signaling for her to continue. "Oh, well, I don't know how it happened or how she fixed it, sorry. I do know that she drank a lot of milk, chased a lot of yarn, and then was back to being human in a couple days. You'll be just fine."
Blake lets out a huffy sigh. "And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"
Gina grins at him, glancing sideways at Haley. "I'm sure you can think of something, Blake."
"Sure, now you make thinly veiled naughty propositions." He runs a hand through his hair, which, thankfully, is still short and has not turned into long, luscious golden locks. "I guess I'm going to have to tell everyone else soon."
"Nah," Gina and Haley say. "You could still go on tour and no one would notice the difference," Gina adds.
Blake throws a pillow at her.
He does tell everyone, because it's not like he could hide it, no matter what Gina says. After some initial surprise, the others take it relatively well. Blake supposes that after going from an average high school student or working at a restaurant, to a household name with a record deal in the likely near future, anything seems possible. He wouldn't go so far as to say that the rules of reality itself had been altered, like their reactions seem to imply, but whatever, that means slightly less stress for him.
Blake shares his room with Chris, and although he trusts all his friends with his life, and knows they've all become a family, there's still the part of him that is worried that this will change things. The first night, he sits on his bed, legs folded and fingers playing with the hem of his plaid pants, and he looks at his best friend. "I can go share a room with one of the girls if this is too strange," he offers.
Chris shrugs. "Don't be silly. You're still you. We're still homies, B." He can tell Chris means it, but there's something sad in his voice, too.
Blake begins life as a girl, or at least as himself with a female body. He's read some stories online -- only out of pure morbid curiosity, of course, and only after his own situation; it's not like he had reason to before, it's not like he believed this could happen before. He's so amazingly glad that he doesn't have to worry about styling his hair or make-up or shopping for new clothes or all the other who-knows-what crazy things you're supposed to do. All the girls take him out to buy some of the necessities that he can't avoid, and that is that.
It's relatively easy to remain positive and joke about it with the others when it's still new, when the absurdity of the situation is still fresh.
But when the days pass and nothing changes, Blake gets a bit worried.
"Chill out," Haley says when he corners her. "Knowing of one person who turned into something completely different hardly qualifies me as the expert. Let's get your mind off of all this. Gina! Come here. We have work to do."
*
Blake has no clue why the two women thought putting him in a sequined top and make-up would "take his mind off" the fact that he's a girl. In fact, it seems like it would kind of amplify the whole thing. It's something he would never do, even in his female body. He keeps playing with the strap of his top and pulling down his shorts. He has to admit -- he looks like himself but slightly different, and allowing himself to play with that, with the possibility of being someone else for a while, is fun, even if it's just with the other Idols, even if he didn't initially do it by choice -- and even if Melinda slaps his hands away when he tries to "readjust" his breasts.
Jordin and Sanjaya are blasting some song on the radio in the car they're all piled in, and he's bobbing his head and beatboxing with Chris here and there. They're going out to celebrate his one week anniversary as a girl -- or, as Phil likes to refer to it, Felicia's birthday -- which, okay, it's kind of funny, but not that funny given that it's real now, and he's beginning to contemplate brutal murder again. It's not so good for his karma, but they deserve it.
When they enter the restaurant and are seated, Chris pulls his chair out for him. Blake tries not to roll his eyes at the gesture, and sits down. They order, and dinner passes with conversation and the normal amount of hijinks. Midway through, Blake can feel eyes on him, and he turns his head slightly. It's a woman, tall and slender with long black hair, seated with a group of friends. She's trying not to make it obvious, but her eyes are fixed on Blake as she sips her drink. A shiver goes up his spine.
Gina leans over. "Blakey's got a girlfriend," she sing-songs.
"Jealous?"
"Nope!" She smiles at him.
Later, after the ride back, he can't get the woman at the other table off his mind. Blake's been attracted to women before, he's dated women, so that is nothing new. However, he's never been attracted to a woman while he's a woman, too.
He stops letting Haley dress him up, reverting back to loose tops and his plaid pants. He skips getting his hair trimmed, but when he looks in the mirror, it's his own face -- to him, at least, only somewhat softer like his body -- and it's almost possible to forget for a moment. Although he's getting used to the situation, it's still so very hard for him to connect his mind to the undeniable femaleness of his body. It's a feeling that's hard to describe even in his own thoughts. Even as he grows more accustomed to his situation, the feeling of disconnection that was there in the very beginning never quite goes away.
Lying isn't good for his karma either, and with all the thoughts of murder he really needs to balance it out. He knows he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been trying to learn and explore his new body. He mentions it in passing to Gina, who offers to give him some pointers, and then without any warning Gina and Haley are on either side of him, like they've been waiting for this, devious little things they are -- tentative at first, then bolder as Blake responds -- and oh, it's been a while. Haley's kissing him, softly and slowly, as Gina kisses down his shoulder and works his shirt up.
"This is like some really cliché dream," Blake manages to say, shuddering at Gina's fingers trailing up his stomach, "and it's all very weird."
"Did you dream about this, Blake?" Haley teases, her hands joining Gina's. He gasps, a higher pitch than normal. "We know how much trouble you're having," she says gently. "Maybe this will help you get more connected with yourself." His shirt is off now -- and for a whole second, Gina hates him for being one of the girls who can get away with just a built-in bra in a top, but then she's cupping his perfect little breasts in her hands and running her thumb over rosy nipples. He tilts his head, raising his knees. Haley's hand brushes over Gina's again, and then wanders down to the waist of his jeans riding low on his hips; Blake grips her other wrist, and god, he's tingling all over, but--
Blake looks at Haley, and he's startled when he sees Chris' eyes instead of hers, from that first night, solemn and almost sad. He pulls away, shaking his head. This isn't right. "No. I'm sorry, guys, I know I'm a huge jerk for stopping, but I can't do this."
"Hey, no." Haley looks surprised, but she picks up his shirt and hands it to him. "You're our friend; we're not going to be mad."
Gina gives him a chaste peck on the cheek and backs up, giving him space, and it's like the whole thing never happened. "Tell us what the real problem is."
He sits back against the wall. He doesn't really know what the problem is. He doesn't know why his feelings for Chris -- feelings he'd pushed back because he thought he had no chance -- are suddenly taking over. He doesn't know why any of this is happening.
*
Blake notices a lot of women staring at him now; or, at least, he's more conscious of it now. Men are staring too, but more women on average. Ethan teased him once that he'd make a hot butch girl, but he never actually thought he'd get to test that out. He should probably be more flattered by the pretty brunette looking at him from the other check-out line -- she's not even being that subtle about it -- but he's not really.
Chris grabs his arm and he brings his attention back to the man in front of him. "C'mon, B -- Felicia," he says as he takes the bags. Chris seems to have settled with the idea of his best friend being a woman, and, much to Blake's amused annoyance, has taken to calling him after the female persona he had once created like Phil has. It also means they're hanging out more like the used to; things are almost back to the way they were, before, and he can't complain about that, even if Chris still insists on opening doors for him. The woman in the other lane takes in Chris' hand resting on his arm and turns away, and Blake is then aware how it must appear.
Something shifts inside him, realigns. The light comes on and he realizes what that really means. He can't believe it's taken him this long to realize that when he's out alone with Chris -- Chris, who is taller, larger, male, and Blake, petite next to his friend, hair still short but paired with his softer facial features -- they must look like a regular couple to everyone else.
Afterward, Blake sits in their common area, mixing some music on his laptop. The normal background noise of the other Idols and their various activities -- Phil on the phone with Kendra, Gina and Jordin picking on Sanjaya in revenge for something he did -- is normal, almost a soothing comfort. Chris comes into the room, sitting at the other end away from Blake, switching on the TV. Blake looks up at him. "If you're going to sit as far away as possible, I reserve the right to take up the rest of the couch with my legs."
Chris tries not to roll his eyes. "Man, I was just trying to give you some personal space."
"I'm just saying, you don't have to run away. I haven't really changed. You remember when you said that? Now you're acting like everything is different."
"Are you on your period?" Chris asks.
"No, thank you very much for asking, I think I have a bit of time before I have to go through that," Blake grits out, "and don't try to invalidate what I'm saying by implying that I'm just being emotional due to hormones."
Chris laughs, good-natured this time. "Spare me your manifesto. You're the one who thinks 'titties!' is a proper parting exclamation."
"Okay, yeah. But that doesn't make me a Neanderthal or whatever."
"I'm sorry. I'm trying to deal with this. That was a pretty big thing to happen overnight, you know? And it's just..." Chris trails off.
"Yeah, I know." Closing his laptop, he grins over at Chris. "I bet I can still beat you at Guitar Hero."
Chris smiles back. "Wanna bet?"
Good thing for Chris he didn't place any money on it, because Blake does win. He does a little victory dance, falls back on the couch, and -- there must be some kind of permanent aphrodisiac on him, seriously, because before he can blink, Chris is leaning in and pressing his lips against Blake's. It feels different, like it could be right, but he doesn't get the chance to react; as soon as it began, Chris pulls back and looks away. "Dude, what the hell was that?"
"I don't know," Chris shrugs. "It's -- it is different, no matter what." The feeling that they had returned to the friendship they had before this happened breaks with Chris' voice, and he leaves the room.
That's one of the weirder experiences he's had, Blake thinks. Which is saying a lot, since he's turned into a girl and all.
*
The sun spills in through the blinds, waking Blake. He rolls over, pulling the pillow over his head. Slowly, the realization that something has changed creeps into his foggy, sleepy brain. He sits up, inspecting everything, and yes -- finally, he's back to himself. Getting up doesn't seem so bad now, and so he wanders into the kitchen to make tea. Chris is in the kitchen as well, apparently back from a run. Blake really hopes this isn't one of those awkward morning after scenarios. He greets Chris, who stops what he's doing when he sees Blake.
"Is this the universe's messed up way of telling me it's okay to be gay?" he asks.
Blake almost drops the hot water. "What?"
"I said, 'is this the universe's really messed up way of telling me it's okay to be gay?'" Chris repeats. "Because I don't need that."
"I heard that part." Suddenly everything is starting to make sense, and it falls into place at once. "Are you saying that the real issue last night is that I was a girl, and the whole time before that I thought that I would never have a chance because you weren't into guys?"
"That sounds right," Chris says, laughing at their mistake. "But we should test it out, just to be sure." Chris leans in again, Blake's head tilted up. Chris backs him up against the counter, hands braced on either side of him, and Blake opens his mouth, sighing, to the other man. Chris' chest is firm and hard against his own, and he wraps his arm around Chris' lower back, fisting it in his shirt and pulling him in tighter, making a pleased noise. Blake doesn't know if he'd use the word perfect, but this is probably as close as anyone will ever get.
"I've got more action in the past few weeks than I did in the past year," Blake says jokingly when they break apart. At Chris' raised eyebrows, he adds, "Don't ask. All of that because I thought you were straight? We really screwed up, didn't we?"
Chris shakes his head, smiling his truly happy, giddy smile. "Not now. We just sort of delayed the inevitable."