Spoilers: Up to episode 1x04 ‘Chris’.
Word Count: 661
A/N: The never ending amount of fics from me today are down to two things; a) hazyflights's wonderfullness because she is Queen of all that is good and b) my need for an outlet. Just accept it, it's the easiest course of action *grin*
It was because she’d had her braces off, or at least, that’s what Chris kept telling himself. Her teeth were all straight and shiny and she spoke differently and he only wanted to see what it felt like and Christ was she a good kisser…He hadn’t meant to snog her, but when she’d walked in wearing a tank top due to the heat that was pulled just that much too tight over her chest and given them all an uncharacteristic smile showing off her teeth, he just couldn’t help himself. He’d waited until everyone else was wasted/unconscious/shagging until he cornered her in the kitchen, shared small talk until she asked him what the fuck he wanted, and then attached his lips to hers. He’d half expected a knee in the groin for his efforts, but instead, after a few moments of tense shock, she had kissed him back, shyly at first and then with what could easily have been mistaken for enthusiasm.
And that’s where they were right now. He didn’t really know why it felt so good; they were Chris and Jal, mates, nothing more. He spent his free time getting wasted on new and exotic drugs and she spent hers studying and playing the clarinet. She was naturally smart where as he was a natural smart arse. He was in love with his psychology teacher and he’d always figured that she had a kind of thing for Tony in an ‘I’d-never-tell-anyone-because-he’s-my-b
He knew that when they pulled apart she’d get all defensive and ask him what the fuck he was playing at and he’d blame it on the drugs and alcohol and his own stupidity. She’d hit him around the head (if he was lucky) or kick him in the shins (if he wasn’t) and then storm off to go find someone else to hang out with; probably Michelle or Maxxie because they were non-threatening. He’d go get another beer and a few more pills and spend the rest of the night making a complete fool out of himself until both of them pretended like they’d forgotten all about it in the morning amidst their hangovers. Except neither of them would have. Chris rarely forgot anything from the night before which was a rather great achievement, and Jal wouldn’t have drunk anywhere near enough for it to merit full on memory loss, and so both of them would know the other was lying. It would be just another one of those things put down to life experience.
Except right now he didn’t want that to happen. He remembered the way she’d run after him for miles from his dad's house to the graveyard and listened as he’d spilled his soul, trying not to break down completely and make even more of a twat out of himself. It was the first time he could ever really remember thinking of Jal as one of his real friends; put her up there with Maxxie and Anwar in his mental list of ‘people to trust’.
And so, in the dim light of someone else’s kitchen with his hands on Jal’s waist and his mind, for once, over thinking everything, he decided that he wouldn’t forget it. He’d tell her that he thought she looked pretty even when Michelle hadn’t used her as a Barbie doll, and he’d tell her he thought she smelled nice and he liked her smile. And he’d tell her that he reckoned he’d wanted to kiss her for a while now and he hoped that was OK because he’d rather like to do it again sometime. He’d chase her as long as he had to, if only because, for a supposedly innocent girl, she was one hell of a kisser (and probably his best friend).