For the first time since they met, Drake is looking at Jesus like he doesn't understand what the other man is saying at all. Close friends who fuck around but aren't boyfriends, he gets. But the labels don't really mean anything at the end of the day -- the collar around Jesus' neck, the way he was willing to act around his friend and everyone else last night, that's what Drake feels stuck on. And he doesn't know why.

"...explain if you want. But I can't promise it'll help. And it really doesn't matter if I'm not into watching you guys, does it?"

They're not together either, after all. Certainly not that together. And then something twists in the pit of his stomach, as it clicks.

Fuck.