Jasper poured himself a drink, elbows on his knees as he sipped it slowly. He was in his study, of course, waiting for Will. It had taken four owls for him to convince Will to come over; his reluctance had alarmed Jasper even more after the disaster of the other night. Cal was safely at his lab this evening. Things had been a little touchy since the Boy's Club debacle, and he'd been faking "a lot of work to do" for a couple of days. It was probably for the best. Jasper had seen the jealous flash in his eyes when he'd mentioned Will that night after the boys departed; he somehow suspected that Cal wouldn't appreciate his little heart to heart tonight.

As dreadfully cheesy as it sounded, that was pretty much what the evening was going to entail. He felt terrible about what had happened, and honestly shocked that Will had taken it so badly. It wasn't as though he'd hidden Cal from Will specifically; he'd just hidden him, and for solid reasons.

Will, however, had taken it as a personal affront that Jasper hadn't-- hadn't what, actually? Hadn't chosen him to discover his preference for quasi-monogamy with another bloke over flings with models? It wasn't as though Jasper had tracked down Cal because he was looking for some glamor boy (haha, Cal's favorite). The whole thing had been rather....accidental. As had the other night.

As for why it couldn't be Will-- Jasper wouldn't lie to himself, he'd thought Will attractive for a long time, on an objective level. But Will was also one of his best friends, his fashion accomplice, possibly the friend he trusted above all others. And his nicest friend. Entirely too nice for Jasper. The man had remembered to use a coaster while he was having an existential crisis, for God's sake.

Jasper finished off his drink and poured another automatically. He had seriously needed them the last couple of days, still on edge from the Cal and Wendell and Will and everything. He'd gotten utterly smashed last night at The Hawley Arms and had vague intentions of doing the same this evening, if Will was up for it. Which, after seeing the look on his face the other night, Jasper somehow suspected he might be.

He was just going to have to explain. Even though he didn't really know what he was going to say. Jasper had always been better with actions than words. On that note he had a vague notion, but he knew it was a terrible thing. But maybe...necessary. He topped off his drink as he heard the 'pop' of Will Apparating onto the landing.

"Cheers mate, I'm in the study."

He closed his eyes a moment before Will entered, trying to block out the glimpse of Cal's disapproving face that accompanied this entire encounter.

If it happens--

Jasper was of the opinion that being a good friend and being a good person were entirely separate states.

Will didn’t even know why he was so upset. Sure, initially after meeting Jasper he’d been quite enamored, but the feelings had passed, and not just because (he’d thought) Jasper was straight. Jasper was a very good bloke and they were great friends, but he simply wasn’t the sort of man Will went for. He bordered on cold sometimes, and that alone would have been enough to diminish Will’s affection. Will needed a warm and caring lover, a cheery person, one whose jokes weren’t usually at the expense of other people. That was what he’d always liked about Wendell. Alright, so Jasper was gay. But what did it matter that he wasn’t sleeping with Will? Will didn’t like him like that.

After much contemplation (aided by copious amounts of alcohol), Will had determined that the real issue was that Jasper hadn't confided in him. Perhaps he'd always been mistakenly under the impression that when his friends (with the exception of Wendell) finally discovered they were gay, they would come to him. They came to him with everything else; why not this, especially considering that he was gay? Who else had dealt with the psychological struggles? Who else faced the stigma? Who else knew the best homosexual dating spots? It made sense--but apparently not to Jasper.

Will had not wanted to go see him after the first owl. But, a few drinks and a few owls later he'd decided that it was only fair to let Jasper tell his side of the sordid story. Will was nothing if not fair, even when his pride was sorely wounded. So finally he'd washed up, determined that he would look good even if he didn't feel good. Appearance contributed directly to confidence--which was something he'd learned from Jasper and Apollo, though because of his workplace he tended to favor Jasper's sense of style more than Apollo's.

"Cheers mate, I'm in the study."

Sweet Merlin. Will blinked and walked slowly into the study, trying not to trip or sway or in any way betray the fact that he'd already put a few back. He was actually surprised he'd made it in one piece, though a part of him had hoped to splinch himself and thus delay the inevitable conversation he was about to have. Before him sat Jasper, eyes closed, drink in hand, looking much more calm than Will felt. Spurred by this, Will clenched his jaw and sat down slowly in a chair opposite Jasper. He nodded his head towards the bottle and the empty glass beside it.

"I see you anticipated me," he said with a somewhat more sarcastic tone than he normally used.

Jasper opened his eyes and caught his friend entering the room, after a brief pause during which he looked slightly sick and swayed a bit. He recovered nicely, but it was apparent that he'd taken a page out of Jasper's book before coming over.

I see you anticipated me. A bit more cynicism than he'd expected. Oh, lovely Christie, you've made him a bastard like you.

Will, rather miraculously, managed to wobble his way across the room and slouch into one of Jasper's chairs. His head was currently bobbing somewhat loosely toward the glass Jasper had put out, although he looked like he really didn't need another drink. It concerned Jasper that Will had felt the need to get significantly drunk before he came over; he liked to think his company was usually pleasant enough that it didn't require mediation with copious amounts of alcohol. In this situation, however, and considering the two generous glasses of whiskey he'd had while waiting, he couldn't really comment.

"And it appears you started without me." He glanced down at his own glass. "Not that you couldn't say the same about me."

He smiled and tipped the bottle up over Will's glass. If they were going to be drunk, they'd better do it properly. As he poured he glanced over Will's outfit; it was surprisingly well chosen, and he spotted the glint of the Patek Philippe he'd gotten Will last Christmas under his cuff. Seemed a bit overboard for Will, just to spend the evening at Jasper's. And it was a stark contrast with the shadows under Will's eyes that suggested he hadn't exactly had a lovely, restful few days.

He took a sip of whiskey and gathered his thoughts. Even though he'd been thinking about this since the other evening, he hadn't yet found the exact things he intended to tell Will. In the end he just sort of opened his mouth and hoped he wouldn't let something appalling slip out.

"So let's not lie, this is about the other evening. And-- I'm sorry, Will. I hadn't intended to tell anyone about--" He struggled to say the name, felt like it was admitting the whole thing all over again. "--Cal. It's not normal for me, you know?"

He felt like something else was required here, but he wasn't sure how to apologize to one's best friend for having a secret affair with someone. If Will had been unhappy about a jewel deal, or was a model he'd dumped, he would have had stock answers ready. This was distinctly more complicated.

"I'm sorry it upset you, he-- sorry, but why did it? Apollo and Atlas and W- Dillan--" He flinched and blinked. Don't need to let Will in on that secret too. "--were, needless to say, surprised. But you're all my friends, I thought you'd take it in stride, somewhat. Well, actually I thought I'd never have to explain all this to you blokes, so I had no idea how you'd take it. They were all right though. Well, Apollo wants to plan a wedding, but that's beside the point."

He smiled, hoping the joke would wipe at least a bit of the coldness off Will's usually genial face. And hoped he hadn't done something else wrong, because he seemed to be making a habit of it lately.

"And it appears you started without me. Not that you couldn't say the same about me."

Will looked down as his cheeks grew hot, suddenly ashamed. He'd never been much of a drunk, particularly around the Boy's Club (since he was convinced the moment his inebriation became too great, either Wendell or Apollo would explode something or die), and the past few days he'd indulged more than he ever had. He wasn't enjoying it a bit though, which he thought must count for something in his favor. Made it something more like penitence than an indulgence. He could run himself in circles trying to justify himself--he had never given himself that kind of room for error, though he bestowed it liberally on his friends, but under the circumstances he thought it was perhaps forgivable.

"So let's not lie, this is about the other evening. And-- I'm sorry, Will."

Jasper never apologized. At least, not sincerely. He sounded about as sincere as Will had ever heard him. So this was promising. Will gulped at his whiskey, numb to the burn. The feeling of shame wasn't going away, but he was sure a few more shots would do it--no, stop it, Will. He couldn't get used to that sort of thinking. He lowered the whiskey glass, determined to be slow about it. He went to sip and drained the glass. It was smaller than he'd thought it was. He glanced warily at the bottle--should he have another?--well, it was Jasper's, and there was no need to be rude. He reached for it and refilled his glass.

He was so mortified. He was being so selfish, expecting his friends to tell him everything. Jasper was clearly in a fragile emotional state, discovering things about himself he'd never fathomed before. He needed Will's support, and here he was, blundering fool, blubbering to himself about why it should have been him (when he didn't even like Jasper that way) and how it was his business and he should have been told just because of the fact that he too was gay. What did that matter? Did he need to know the business of every gay man in England? Hardly, hardly! Of course, it wasn't quite the same situation, he really wasn't close friends with every gay man in England (though sometimes it did seem that he had met them all) and...he just felt wretched, wretched, wretched.

"I'm sorry it upset you, he-- sorry, but why did it?

Will blinked. Right. They weren't just drinking about this, they were talking about it too. He'd known that. He'd prepared what he was going to say. He was going to say, "Jasper, my friend, it isn't jealousy. It doesn't matter to me who you're with as long as you're happy and getting all the love you deserve. But Jasper, I wish you had come to me. I'm sure it was all very confusing for you, if your experience has been anything like mine; I just wish you would have let me help you through it all." Or, something like that. He'd planned on standing and delivering it very passionately and then embracing Jasper in a warm, friendly embrace. Or something. Maybe.

What he actually said was...far less eloquent.

"Because you're gay!" Will spluttered. "And I'm gay! And being gay is something gay men bond over!" Wait. "Err, what I mean is, we--we should have--talked about this or, or something. I--you should have told me, I could have helped, I...I just want to help. I just...want..." Will stopped for a moment, then threw back his whiskey.

Jasper's parents, in a fit of misbegotten kindness, had once bought him a fish as a young child. Not that Jasper didn't like animals (or, more specifically, fake plastic animals with bedazzled eyes), but he'd always thought the fish had kind of a strange expression. Blinky and surprised and watery. The exact sort of look Will was giving him at the moment, as though Jasper was doing something quite shocking rather than having a drink with a friend. He seemed to be working up to something, so Jasper remained silent and finished his drink, on the verge of pouring another when Will finally spoke.

Because you're gay! And I'm gay! And being gay is something gay men bond over! Err, what I mean is, we--we should have--talked about this or, or something. I--you should have told me, I could have helped, I...I just want to help. I just...want...

Well, this was going poorly. Now Will seemed to think he was going to be some kind of...gay mentor for Jasper? He supposed it was sweet, in a way, the sort of concern, but it was entirely misplaced. If there was one thing Jasper was entirely certain about (in reality there were many things, but the turn of phrase didn't suit so well), it was his sexuality. Or...lack thereof. Jasper had decided at a young age that it wasn't worth limiting himself. Which actually made what he felt about Will even more unfortunate. Well, I've actually got incredibly liberal standards, but they still don't include you...

Jasper blinked, realizing his vision felt a bit swimmy. Will looked worse off; his eyes were reddening around the edges. Putting his glass down with purposeful caution, Jasper leaned forward, one hand on his friend's arm, and tried to look Will in the eye, which was proving a bit challenging since he couldn't entirely focus.

"Will, that's--it's, well, I'm not gay. Exactly. I'm, I don't know. Whoever attracts me is who I go after." Okay, now he'd not only dashed Will's hopes that he was gay, but also that he was good looking. "I mean, it's not that you aren't attractive, because you are, but--"

No, that wasn't going well either. Jasper shifted his fingers, crumpling the fabric of Will's sleeve over the overwarm plane of his skin. He found himself looking down at his hand, trying to bloody think and say something that would actually be constructive, but he found himself looking up again.

"You're one of my best friends."

Will's face came into focus starkly, suddenly, and Jasper wondered why exactly he hadn't found Will attractive in the past, because he was. No, no, he's your-- He leaned, wavered, forward briefly then realized what was happening and hurled himself back into his chair. He blinked slowly and flexed his fingers where the warmth of Will's arm was still lingering.

"You're one of my oldest friends, and the loveliest, and I'm not gay but--"

But if I were-- But I go after whoever attracts me-- But we're both quite drunk and--

He couldn't find a good ending to the sentence, so he just sat in the plush silence of his chair, wondering if it was liquor or genuine lust that was making him reconsider his dedication to their friendship.

Jasper's face was hard to read even when Will was perfectly sober, so it was even more difficult for him now to try and discern some meaning from that mostly impassive face, emotion shown only in a furrowed brow and slightly frowning mouth. Perhaps, if he were in a better condition, he would have been able to guess what Jasper was thinking--usually, it was exactly the opposite of what he himself was thinking--but tonight he was having no luck.

The jeweler leaned forward, put a hand on Will's arm. Will looked down at it, surprised. It was such a comforting gesture, one that didn't usually come from Jasper. He looked up and tried to meet Jasper's gaze, blinking perhaps more than was necessary; it didn't help anyway, his vision was still slightly blurred.

"Will, that's--it's, well, I'm not gay. Exactly. I'm, I don't know. Whoever attracts me is who I go after."

Now, Will felt ashamed and stupid. Jasper had said that before--"whoever attracts me is who I go after"--but Will had never imagined it extended to homosexual relationships. There had always been too many models, too many actresses, too many hopefuls, all female, all young, all brief. But of course whoever meant whoever. With Jasper, there were no limits to what he wanted or what he wouldn't do to get it. Of course. That made sense.

"I mean, it's not that you aren't attractive, because you are, but--"

Attractive? Jasper found him attractive. He supposed that was fair. He found Jasper attractive. Not as a lover, though. Just...aesthetically very pleasing. Not a long-term lover, anyway. It was fair. Jasper didn't find him attractive as a lover. Not a long-term lover, certainly. Jasper's hand changed; Will looked down at it. The fingers were clenched around the fabric of his sleeve, pulled back from his skin. The gesture had changed. It wasn't comforting anymore. Will was careful to breath, and breath slowly.

"You're one of my best friends."

Will looked up. Jasper was looking at him. Will narrowed his eyes, trying very hard to focus. His sense of depth perception was all wrong. How close was Jasper? Close. He was coming forward, leaning towards Will. And then he stopped. What was he doing? He abruptly let go and flung himself back into his chair. He flexed his hand. Will's arm felt cold.

"You're one of my oldest friends, and the loveliest, and I'm not gay but--"

"But," Will said. "But. What but? But what?" Will sighed and set his glass down, carefully. He didn't use a coaster. He felt confused. What had just happened? Jasper leaned forward. Jasper put a hand on his arm. Jasper crumpled his sleeve. Jasper, Jasper, Jasper. Jasper was right in front of him. Jasper was intoxicating--no he, he was intoxicated. Toxic, the situation was toxic. Better to--better to--

"Better to talk again l-later," Will said, trying to stand up. "When we're both...sober," he added. He had a very tight grip on the back of his chair as he walked slowly around it, trying to get his bearings again. "This...is not, this is..." He stopped. What this was, he couldn't be sure. He just felt awful and wanted it to go away but damnit, if he was going to drink anymore he'd drink his own whiskey and not Jasper's because Jasper intoxicated him.

But, but. What but? But what?

Will put his glass down roughly, eyes staying on it a moment too long before he looked up at Jasper in fitful confusion. Jasper shoved his hand through his hair so hard that he felt the edges of his nails scrape across his scalp. The pain brought a moment of clarity to the world, just in time to see Will sway to his feet. He was dreadfully worse for the wear at this point and Jasper had a momentary flash of horror at the thought of him Apparating without thinking.

Better to talk again l-later. When we're both...sober.

Jasper noticed that his friend's knuckles were white with tension as his fingers dug into the leather on the edge of his chair. He'd noticed, of course. Even plastered, he must have seen the lapse of control in Jasper's face when he leaned forward. It had been incredibly stupid, unthinking. He couldn't let Will leave this way, with everything still unresolved; this same encounter would just happen over and over. At least it would for Jasper; he knew he could never face this conversation sober. Especially after what he'd realized he'd though about Will, what he couldn't stop thinking now--

This...is not, this is..

Will was hovering behind the chair, scanning the study as though he'd never been there before, and Jasper took the opportunity to stand. The room rocked sideways in his vision before his eyes steadied and focused on Will. Will, the best of his friends, the most morally flawless, the kindest, the best look-- No, no. Of all the people he could have hurt, Will's niceness made him the worst, because he would have done better in Jasper's place. He wouldn't have gotten him drunk and insinuated--

Even though he understood what Will would have done, Jasper knew he could never do the same. Altruism wasn't in his character, it would be unnatural and false and Will would know. He would always have to be Jasper and do what he wanted. He reached awkwardly across the chair, stumbling against it when his shin bumped the leg, and put a guiding hand on Will's shoulder. They were too close again, close enough--

"Don't, it'll just be like the other night again if you leave. I don't want you to be unhappy, you're--" The cure for unhappiness in Jasper's mind, drunk or sober, had always been getting what you want. What did Will want? Did he-- Jasper suspected the answer was yes, if he was reading the unaccustomed expression in his friend's eyes correctly as it coursed under the melancholy twist of his mouth. It was, of course, no coincidence that Jasper's offer wasn't entirely altruistic, but he did want Will to be happy, too. He always wanted his friends to be happy; his generosity to them was boundless, suddenly in ways that involved more than materiality. His tone shifted pointedly. "Things can be different, if you want."

Utterly foolish, this filthy mix of impulsivity and whiskey and hurt feelings and misbegotten attraction. Jasper had always been of the opinion that alcohol made everything far more fun. Much later, it would occur to him that this was the first truly bad decision he'd made while drunk.

Will's desire for a rapid departure was somewhat hampered by the nauseous feeling he was currently experiencing, so he was forced to stand still until it subsided. While he waited, he looked around at anything but Jasper. Suddenly Jasper's study, formerly comfortable and associated with wonderful Boy's Club memories, was suffocating and disturbing. This change in perception only made him want to leave even more--he didn't want those good memories poisoned by this one in ways he wouldn't forget when he sobered up--and he was pleased that he now felt well enough to move. Apparition provided a greater challenge, but he was an Auror after all, and he felt up to it.

But just as he went to take another step towards freedom, he felt Jasper's hand on his shoulder. He turned around and there was the rest of Jasper, attractive and drunk and very close. There was a curious look in his friend's eyes. It was simultaneously a look of sympathy and guilt and a strange, shining sort of lust, the sort that came with heavy intoxication. Will's chest tightened. Of course. That was all there was to it. A genuine effort on Jasper's part to make things up to him had turned into something very wrong. Jasper was no longer being fair.

"Don't, it'll just be like the other night again if you leave. I don't want you to be unhappy, you're--"

"Unhappy," Will confirmed, "but it's not just this, it's not just you." He looked away and rubbed his face vigorously. Now was not the time to unload his burdens, and Jasper was not the person to confide in. Jasper was, and always had been, the person to have a good time with. He was a good friend, but there were things he just didn't do well, and listening to other people's problems was one of them. Wendell was the one Will usually went to; it was Wendell who always listened and tried to cheer him up in ways that actually worked and didn't involve neon and glitter. But Wendell...Wendell was gone. Suddenly Will felt incredibly alone.

"Things can be different, if you want."

But he wasn't alone. Jasper was there.

It was stupid. It was wrong. It wouldn't help anything; in fact, it would probably just make things much, much worse. But for once, Will wasn't concerned with doing what was right, or what was good. Will never did anything purely for his own enjoyment. Well, he was going to tonight--and he was going to stop thinking about everything so that he actually could enjoy it. He would deal with the consequences tomorrow over a strong cup of coffee.

Unthinkingly, Will closed the distance between him and his friend, and kissed Jasper's warm, liquor-laced lips.

Unhappy, but it's not just this, it's not just you.

Will's face twisted further with unhappiness before he turned away, clearly trying to hide the expression from him. Jasper paused, waiting for him to turn back. He never knew what to say in these situations, and Will was the one who offered him advice under most circumstances. He'd always been the go-to for the Boy's Club. He was the most level-headed, the most rational. Apollo normally recommended something involving sparkles, and Jasper's solution to most problems involved, ironically, drinking and one night stands. It had never occurred to him that Will might need advice, really. He assumed that his friend just offered himself some kind of condolences when he was unhappy.

This evening, however, Will seemed to be rejecting his own logic for a Jasperesque approach to problem solving. Maybe. He had turned back, a distinctly different and entirely foreign expression on his face. Wilder than Will usually looked, almost angry. Jasper started to open his mouth, ready to backtrack, to apologize for being so forward and foolish when Will was obviously miserable, but his friend-- one of his best, his oldest--- had leaned across the tiny space between them and kissed him.

Jasper admitted freely to himself that he'd wanted this, but he hadn't entirely expected it to happen. Will was wiser than him, had always seemed to understand the unspoken boundary that kept them apart, even if he hadn't been particularly pleased about it. But then he'd shown up drunk, miserable--and you took advantage of him--and he wanted it. Jasper made himself stop bloody thinking. He wanted this, and that had always been enough justification for his actions before. And it was the least he could do, after the shock he'd put Will through with Cal. After that debacle with Astbury at the end of summer, and all the other times Will had pulled him out of trouble. He owed him, a favor between friends.

Coming back from his thoughts, he realized they had staggered backward onto the couch and his fingers were tangled through Will's hair. Everything felt a little blurry at the edges, his limbs felt too pliant as he settled into the cushions, Will's lips were overwarm and sticky, the pressure glancing, waxing and waning as they kissed. When he pulled back he wondered why he'd never realized how attractive Will was. He wanted to say something to that effect, but thought speaking would break this somehow- Will would realize that it was Jasper and thus a very bad idea and try to leave again, which was the last thing Jasper wanted right now. It occurred to him that he'd known Will was a good kisser; he'd learned it that day with Astbury. It also occurred to him, as he undid the buttons, that he'd given Will the shirt he was currently wearing last Christmas. And it occurred to him that this was perhaps a bit selfish, but that he would make sure Will enjoyed himself. For a friend, it was the least he could do.


It did not, however, occur to him until the next morning, when he woke up still half-drunk to the rays of the early sun flooding the study window with Will asleep half on top of him, his arm dangling off the couch, that this wasn't going to make their situation less awkward. At this point it also occurred to him, perhaps not in keeping with the feelings of remorse that he should have been experiencing, that he'd rather enjoyed himself and Will wasn't bad in bed, especially considering how remarkably drunk they had both been. He ran a hand through his flattened hair, wondering how they had both managed to have such a horrific lapse in judgment and also hoping nothing embarrassing had-- oh, something embarrassing had happened, actually several, on each of their parts. He hated when he was drunk enough to do unfortunate things, but not quite drunk enough to forget them. At least Will was still asleep; he would have some time to think, if he kept still and didn't wake him. He closed his eyes and began thinking of a plan.

Step One: Never tell Cal.
Step Two: Never, never, tell Cal.
Step Three: Especially the part where he'd thought Will was good in bed.
Step Four: Sort the rest of this out, and never tell Cal.

Will was flying in a Muggle airplane. His brother Michael was there, which Will thought was odd, since Michael had a fear of flying. Jasper came out of the cockpit in a pilot’s uniform; or at least, a fashion version of one. He wore an ascot. Will had never much liked ascots.

Jasper was coming towards him. Suddenly the plane was empty and Jasper leaned down over him and kissed him passionately. The plane began to lurch and shake. Will pushed Jasper away and jumped up, running towards the cockpit.

"Who's flying the plane?" he yelled. Jasper just looked at him and shrugged. He came after Will and tried to pull him back into a kiss, but Will twisted away and seized the plane's controls. He pulled back on them, desperately trying to pull the plane out of a nosedive, but it was too late. The ground was coming at them fast; he could see it through the immense window. Any second now--


Will woke with a jump. The first thing he felt was a rush of blood in his head, which was throbbing painfully. The second thing he felt was the rise and fall of Jasper's chest beneath him. At first it felt wonderful; he started to close his eyes again, still muggy with sleep, turning his head to nuzzle gently against Jasper's skin--

Oh my god.

Will pushed himself up, off of Jasper, and very nearly blacked out. He covered his face with his hands and rubbed furiously, trying to wake up. The sooner he woke up, the sooner he'd be able to leave. He needed to think about this new development, and he was going to do it at home, alone, after locking up his liquor cabinet, putting the heaviest of spells on it, and throwing his wand out the window. This was awful. How could he have let himself do it?

A small part of him brought up Jasper's hand in all of it, but he quickly pushed it away. He couldn't blame Jasper. Jasper was simply Jasper, after all; Will should have been more responsible. If he hadn't been drunk when he came to Jasper's in the first place none of it would have happened. He knew Jasper's solution to most everything, and he had allowed himself to succumb to it like never before. He'd known--he'd known! There was no excuse for Will's behavior.

He stood up, ignoring the rush of nausea, and started looking for his shirt.

"Morning, Jasper," he prattled off, hardly hearing himself. "You've got very good whiskey, you know that? Very good. I've got to be off now, actually but we'll...we'll talk about this later, yeah? Good. That's what I thought. Good," he mumbled.

Sh-t. Sh-t. This is awful. So far Jasper's planning wasn't going well. He couldn't seem to overcome the basic level of panic that came with destroying a friendship. It didn't help that he felt like he hadn't slept at all and someone had spent the entire night punching him in the neck. The faint haze of a headache drifted across his thoughts as he tried to lie still and not wake Will until the last possible second.

Sadly that second wasn't very far away, because Will jolted awake. Jasper didn't move, and for a moment he thought Will might go back to sleep, from the slow, peaceful way he turned his head against his shoulder, resettling. There was a brief pause during which Jasper released the breath he had been holding, but then Will apparently realized where he was, and jolted off the couch like Jasper was electrified. He staggered against the coffee table for a moment, grey-faced, then cast about the study desperately, ostensibly looking for his clothes but probably just seeking an excuse to not look Jasper in the eyes.

"Morning, Jasper.You've got very good whiskey, you know that? Very good."

Jasper struggled upright, dragging his hands across his face in an attempt to wake up as Will babbled, his voice rough from sleep and a little shrill. He spotted his trousers dangling over the arm of the couch and stood long enough to pull them on, thinking that any small gesture to make the situation more normal couldn't go amiss. Will had successfully located his shirt and was buttoning it with extraordinary speed, not even noticing that the buttons were askew.

"Will--" I'm sorry. I'm a bastard.

"I've got to be off now, actually but we'll...we'll talk about this later, yeah? Good. That's what I thought. Good."

He really wasn't taking this well. And they had managed to entirely avoid the discussion they had meant to have. Jasper knew they would never have it if they didn't have it now; they might never talk again at all, honestly. He had been an idiot. Will was nothing like him; sex couldn't be meaningless when you were that good. He would be hurt by all of this.

"Will, please--" This doesn't have to be so bad.

He took a step forward as Will finished buttoning his pants and shrugged into his wrinkled jacket. Will was taking steps toward the door slowly, as though he was uncertain he could walk at normal speed. He'd obviously had a lot to drink before he'd come over last night, he was in far worse shape than Jasper was now. He appeared to be gearing up for another round of babble to carry him to the door, so Jasper cut him off, fixing him with a serious expression.

"Will, come on mate. I'm--sorry. I'm--stupid, you're such a good friend and--." I don't deserve it. "We will talk about this. Promise me, yeah?"

Will was still on his way out, looking miserable and oddly--guilty. F--k. Of course he would look guilty; Will would feel horrible about this. Jasper had a brief flash of him meeting Cal, of seeking him out even, and confessing the truth. Will had been the one who'd written Jasper an apology letter when he borrowed Jasper's shoes and scuffed one of the heels. (Jasper hadn't even been angry; he'd tried to tell Will that he could polish them, but Will had looked like he'd just destroyed Jasper's entire wardrobe.) He took a step forward and caught Will's wrist before he could open the door.

"Can you please-- God, I'm so sorry. Can you not tell him, please?"

Something was wrong with his shirt. He buttoned the last button but it wasn't lining up the way it should. Will stood there frozen for a moment, staring down at his shirttail trying to puzzle out what the problem was. He put his hands on his chest, running them over the shirt as though feeling the fabric would tell him what was wrong--which, surprisingly, it did. He felt a bubble and looked down to where his hand was and saw that he had skipped a button hole. He suddenly felt extremely embarrassed to have done so in front of Jasper, and now he debated--take the time to fix it before leaving, or nevermind it and get out? His hands twitched as he went back and forth about undoing and redoing all his buttons--

"Will--"

Jasper's voice startled him; he hadn't expected him to speak. It wasn't really Jasper, after all, it was just some horrible doppelganger sent to torment him in this nightmare. Because this was a nightmare. Will was determined that it should be a nightmare. Nothing about it was in keeping with reality, after all. Will never drank quite as much as he had in this strange vision, and he certainly never slept with Jasper, and Jasper had certainly never given the impression of finding him attractive. Jasper had never particularly given the impression of finding any man attractive, though Will supposed there had been special and isolated incidents involving the occasional band member.

"Will, please--Will, come on mate. I'm--sorry."

Now Will knew for sure that this wasn't real. Jasper never apologized. He was Jasper, and Jasper never apologized. Not that it mattered. Jasper had never really had anything to apologize for, at least for Will; Will had accepted Jasper's profession and habits and was not offended by them in the slightest, so no apology or repentance had ever been necessary. The fact that he was apologizing now was only further proof that this was a horrible, horrible dream. Jasper never regretted anything, so he never apologized for anything. He knew what he was doing all the time and never made mistakes.

Sometimes, Will wished he could be like Jasper; in that respect, at least.

"I'm--stupid, you're such a good friend and--."

Will stumbled his way to the door, moving slowly and jerkily as he debated whether he ought to say something before he left. It seemed rude to just walk out, but really, what could he say? There were plenty of things he should say; they really should discuss this. But somehow Will felt that those things should be said in complete sobriety. Besides, nothing was coming to mind, and Will felt that if he opened his mouth he would either vomit or start weeping again, neither of which were appealing at the moment.

"We will talk about this. Promise me, yeah?"

"Yes, Jasper," Will said after a long, long pause. "We'll talk about this. I promise." However unpleasant it would be, Will owed it to Jasper to discuss this with him. If Jasper was apologizing, really, it meant that he did regret this and that he felt guilty. Will had to assuage his guilt; none of the blame fell on him, after all. He was just Jasper, and Will had taken advantage of that. Jasper didn't deserve to feel guilty.

But Will--he completely deserved the horrible guilty feeling sinking in his stomach. He felt disgusting. Not only had he taken advantage of Jasper, he had forced Jasper to be unfaithful to that man--Cal? Will hadn't quite caught the name. It was Will who had to repent, who had to apologize. How could he do that? He would make it up to Jasper, certainly, but what about poor Cal? He deserved to know what had happened. It would be better if Will went to him and explained Jasper's innocence in the whole sordid affair. Imagine if Cal found out later on, from other sources, and blamed poor Jasper! Will couldn't allow it. He would find Cal--the other club members had stayed, perhaps gotten his full name--and make his case, for Jasper's sake.

"Can you please-- God, I'm so sorry. Can you not tell him, please?"

Will felt Jasper's hand around his wrist and turned to him, a little shocked.

"But...Jasper," Will said slowly. "What if he finds out later and blames you? I'd hate it if that happened--it wasn't your fault at all." A thought occurred to him. Perhaps Jasper was afraid of Cal's reaction, regardless of the circumstances. Perhaps Cal was the time of person who wouldn't see reason and would blame Jasper anyway. Perhaps this Cal was even violent in nature. It distressed Will to think of Jasper in a possibly abusive relationship. Perhaps he should look into this Cal for Jasper's own safety! But if that was the case, Jasper was right--it should be kept secret from Cal.

"Of course, Jasper," Will said. "I promise I won't tell him. Now," he said, pulling his wrist gently out of Jasper's grip and squeezing his hand. "I've got to go. I'm a mess." He tried to chuckle, but it came out depressingly half-hearted. He sighed and gave Jasper's hand a final pat. "I'll be seeing you."

He turned and walked out.