Chris and Anton: this thing about Pine...
takes place in January, right after Pine and Anton hooked up

They're post-coital, which is the best place for them to be when Anton wants to talk. They're relaxed and calm, in that zone right after their heart rates have slowed but before they drop off to sleep or wander to the kitchen for something to eat. Anton doesn't really think it's going to be a big deal, but he's nervous anyway as he murmurs, "I slept with Pine."

Chris is mopping his torso with a t-shirt, half-curled up so he can see, and Anton relishes the solidity of those abs for a second before Chris turns to look at him and drop the laundry. "What?" he asks; he isn't quite sure he heard that right. "You mean...slept with?"

"Yeah." Anton swallows and there's a lot of silence; he knows Chris is half in love with Pine, though he wouldn't have done it if he'd thought there would be a real problem-- but he can't read anything in Chris's expression. "Say something."

Chris's stomach has dropped, though he knows he's got no business being jealous or anything even like it. "Um," he tries, shaking his head. "Okay. Um. It's fine." It's the first thing he can get out, because he does want Anton to know that, at least. Somehow, it's fine.

But Anton can see that it's not, not really. "I thought you might have seen, you know, on the journal where we were playing around, and...I should have said something first. I meant to, but you've been working, and..." He shrugs lamely. All he wants right now is to curl up against Chris's chest, and he isn't sure it's welcome. It's not a good feeling.

"I know." Chris turns onto his side, toward Anton, one big arm curling under his head. He reaches for Anton. "I guess...it doesn't matter, you know? It's just a thing." He offers a watered-down smile and reaches for his lover, needing him close more than anything else.

Anton goes eagerly, burrowing in. "It's not just a thing, though," he murmurs against Chris's skin. "Something happened. I wasn't expecting it. I thought I was going over there to fool around, and..." He shrugs, unable to explain the way the affection just blossomed, but he suspects Chris knows.

And Chris does. An amused smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and there's wistfulness in it, too. "He kind of has that effect, doesn't he?" he says quietly. "It's okay," he adds after a while. "I mean. If you want..." He swallows hard. "You just...need to be good to him. He doesn't want to be fucked with. I know you wouldn't," he adds quickly, "but...you know."

Pushing up onto an elbow, Anton looks at Chris, eyes serious. "Baby, I don't--look, you know what? I think we need to talk to him." He has some ideas about this, some thoughts about how it could go, but he's not going to have this discussion right now. Not without all three of them in a room together. "You're carrying this thing around, and I know you're not alone. I'm not starting anything unless everyone's okay, and we won't know that until we all talk."

Chris lets out a soft, wry laugh. "You know I suck at that." But he knows Anton's right, and in spite of his nervousness, he knows they need this.