Chapter Text
A human's brain doesn't understand the difference between genuine enjoyment and ironic enjoyment. If you are watching a cringe TV show, you may understand that it's a case of "so bad that it's good", but the endorphins that your brain releases are real.
Similarly, a good amount of oxytocin that Kris' brain released as a result of his friendly dates with Damon was the same good old love hormone- and hypothetically speaking, Kris should've seen it all coming much earlier.
When it happened, they were talking about Bojan: they never brought him up on purpose, but tonight, as they delved into a light-hearted conversation about their respective teenage years, it just came up naturally.
"...Nah, but you should've seen him- so self-assured, and then I say "this song doesn't have distortion" and it was obviously the first time someone told him he wasn't oh so incredible in everything he does," Kris laughed without any actual malice in his voice, twisting the stem of a wine glass in his fingers.
Today's hypothetical date included an artsy workshop where they painted over old vinyl records with acrylics and did tastings of some posh wines. After that they headed out for dinner to a place so dimly lit that the candles on their table were basically the only light source- but the cuisine was nice, the waiters fast and the restaurant not too crowded. According to Kris' "list to winning a potential boyfriend's heart"- essentials of a perfect restaurant for a date. Hypothetically, of course.
"Wait a sec, love," Damon interrupted him suddenly: he reached out across the table to bring his hand to a side of Kris' face "You have dried paint in your hair, let me..."
He noticed a chip of dried acrylic paint that stuck to Kris' hair it and tried his best to remove it. Kris stilled at the sudden touch at first; Damon's warm hand brushed over his cheek, and the spot burned. With a cough, he forced himself to relax and continue talking:
"So, um- well, Bojan was lucky he was pretty- he is now too, of course, but back then it saved him from being punched in the face more than once."
"As if you weren't?" Damon quipped. His hand was still grazing through Kris' hair, trying to remove the paint as careful as possible "Pretty, I mean."
"I wasn't," Kris shrugged. Damon's fingers in his hair stopped their working for a moment before continuing "What? It's the truth, you should've seen my teenage photos. My hair was really short."
"I'm sure you were lovely," Damon simply said, and a little beast of pride and content that lived in Kris' heart rose its head.
"You are just saying it because you know me now. If we were in school together, you'd be head over heels for Bojan."
"Nah, not my type," Damon tugged on a strand of Kris' hair lightly and finally withdrawed "I prefer taller guys."
And Kris laughed on instinct because, in all honesty, who wasn't taller than Bojan? It was a friendly jab, that's all.
Purely friendly.
Wait a second.
They've been doing this for almost a month now: hypothetical dates came and went, following the plan and sometimes drifting from it, but not too much because, in Kris' opinion, there was beauty in certainty, and Damon was ever so mindful of him being comfortable. They went to galleries, where Kris found himself doing an embarassing amount of wild gesticulation and excited whispers- something which was not usually on brand for him, and to the movies, and had cooking dates (thankfully, in Damon's flat and not in Kris' overcrowded apartment), and even a pottery class date. In there he messed up his perfectly good workpiece of a vase and Damon made an ashtray in shape of a pair of pink lungs, which he gifted to Kris at the end of their friendly date, along with their ususal handshake and hug.
This month of hypothetical dates turned out to be one of the most cherishable and genuinely fun experiences Kris has had in his entire life. In all honesty, some actual dates he'd had with actual potential partners lost badly to his purely friendly dates with Damon.
The moment Damon removed his hand from Kris' hair and leaned back, Kris immediately found himself missing the touch: a little beast in his heart growled, and it was exactly when out of sudden realisation hit him like a truck.
Oh no.
Kind, artistic, understanding Damon who dutifully followed his list of boyfriend rules and never once complained about it.
Funny, smart, talented Damon who always greeted him with a "dobro jutro" even if their friendly date was scheduled for the evening just to make Kris laugh and roll his eyes in fake annoyance- and the mere fact that this stupid joke brought Kris fake annoyance and a real giggle!
Was he in love with Damon?
It was definetely not friendly, platonic, comradery kind of love that he had for all of his friends, oh no- it was genuine admiration for the man who sat right in front of him, unsuspecting of Kris' true feelings. What was it- a crush? Or something more, something bigger? At what part of his Boyfriend Plan did it move him?
Each new thought only added to the flurry of Kris' mind, yet outwardly Kris gave no sign of his dismay- not even a blush; maybe he did grip his wine glass a bit harder, but that went unnoticed. And as Damon talked and Kris forced himself to listen and smile and nod (when most of all he wanted to laugh and cry and hide under the table), suddenly he understood exactly why Bojan kept blurting out that "brother" to Jere all the time.
**
Despite whatever drastic discoveries occured that day, the life went on. A few days ago Žare came to London to stay and work with them, and since he was supposed to take over Bojan's bedroom, Bojan was forced to relocate. Now his full ashtrays littered the living room, and he moped on the couch alongside his guitar and his misery.
Ever an extrovert, Bojan still drifted from room to room in search of company, so Kris wasn't surprised at all when Bojan barged into his and Nace's bedroom the next day after Kris realised his... situation. Kris has stayed inside for almost an entire day, confused, a little terrified, struggling to come up with a reasonable solution, but to no avail.
Usually Bojan'd start whining and complaining right off the bat, but this time his intrusion was different- and very silent. Bojan circled the room twice, looked out the window, picked up a book just to set it aside, ran his hand over the shelf. He coughed a couple times, as if he was expecting Kris to say something first, but Kris simply watched him, silent and preocupied with his own internal crisis, until Bojan finally plopped down on the bed and said with such gravely seriousness that Kris involontarily stiffened:
"Promise you won't scold me and you won't tell anyone."
Oh how much has Kris heard it from his siblings before: like that one time he walked into Maks' room and found him vaping, or like that one time he discovered that Maja got a tatoo. Unfortunately Bojan was a grown man and not a Guštin, and approximate level of absurdity of his desicions was significantly higher than a teen's.
"What did you do?" Kris asked warily, mentally preparing himself for worst. To be honest, he was even a tad relieved: thinking about other people's problems always helped him to stop the train of anxiety and confusion in his own head.
Bojan kept chewing on his lip and looking at him all wide-eyed (as if he focused hard enough, Kris would just read his thoughts and spare him the pain of saying it all out loud), so Kris sighed and patted his shoulder.
"Okay, I promise that I won't scold."
"And won't tell?"
"And won't tell."
It was all that was needed for the dam to burst.
"I had to call Jere today- it's Tuesday, we always do calls on Tuesday, not only Tuesday, but...and I did, but he wasn't there, his phone probably died- he always forgets to charge it, Jesse gifted him like five powerbanks already..." Bojan blurted out an incoherent string of words, choked up on an exhale, inhaled deeply and continued just as fast "...And there were beeps, you know, when the person doesn't pick up, these monotone beep-beep-beep, and I should've just ended the call, but I didn't, I just sat there and listened to these fucking beeps, and I thought (he choked on an exhale again) that it's so fucking unfair, that we always have to wait and there's always distance and we are always busy, and then the beeps were over, and the voicemail activated..."
Oh no.
"Voicemail," Kris repeated dumbly.
"And I couldn't- I don't know what got into me, I started talking..."
"Bojan!"
"I couldn't stop!" Bojan cried out pressing his palms to his face "I said everything- about how happy I was when we met in Madrid, and that we had this instant connection, and how when the final was over I tried to do anything, anything to make him laugh, and how when Jere invited us to the sauna I couldn't look away and I imagined..."
"Okay, that's enough!" Kris interrupted as fast as he could.
"...And that I was so scared when I realised my feelings," Bojan said wretchedly, his face still hidden behind his hands "And that I'm still so scared- and I don't want to ruin what we have, I want to be his friend- but I couldn't bear it anymore."
For a few moments silence settled in, only Bojan's heavy breathing filling the room.
"And?" Kris asked carefully. Bojan stilled.
"The voicemail limit is three minutes," he mumbled in a weak voice "I... ran out of it, and then I realised what I've just done and threw my phone at the wall."
Oh god.
Hypothetically speaking, the situation was absurd. There was not a single "how to win a potential boyfriend's heart" guide which had a "call him, leave a three minutes long confession voicemail and destroy your phone right after" advice. This was bound to ruin all of your chances.
But in reality Kris found himself bubbling with upcoming laughter.
Bojan finally removed his hands from his face, and his eyes widened:
"You are laughing?"
"I'm not!" Kris protested, despite a smile literally splitting his face "I'm not- I'm sorry!"
"You are not sorry!" Bojan looked absolutely scandalized: this was not the reaction he'd expected. He craved reassurance, consolation, sympathy, and instead of it he got Kris doubling in half with laughter he couldn't hide anymore.
Bojan hit his back with a pillow: "My life is over and you are laughing! Stop fucking laughing!"
Kris couldn't help it. It was so fucking hilarious- here he was with his plan made of rules and limits, paragraphs and sections, trying so hard to rationalize whatever feelings he had towards Damon- and here was Bojan doing something so silly, so hot-headed, so open-hearted. Something that was so incredibly stupid and so incredibly Bojan- and, as Kris suddenly realised, so incredibly Jere.
"I'm sorry," he wheezed out again, finally straightening up and running his hand through his hair to try and calm himself down. Bojan watched him warily "Sorry- it's just... you know, somehow this is exactly what I'd expect from you."
"Do you think I fucked up?" Bojan asked quietly.
Kris hesitated with his reply.
"Do you want an honest answer or a kind answer?"
He really thought Bojan would pick a kind answer, but he suprised him once again:
"Honest one. But as kindly as you can."
"Then... I don't know," Kris admitted with sudden easiness. It has always been hard for him to admit helplessness, to face uncertainty; but now, for some unexplainable reason, the words came out on their own with ease. Bojan seemed surprised with that as well "Wait for a bit, for his reaction. And get yourself a new phone."
And he couldn't help thinking with somewhat shameful relief:
Whatever way things go with Damon, at least I will never leave him a voice mail and throw my phone at the wall like Bojan did.