The Pogues always teased about it- you and John B were basically inseparable. Best friends, always paired off, always sharing looks and inside jokes. To everyone else it seemed obvious: you were a thing. But the two of you always denied it. Just best friends. That’s it.

Still, sometimes “just best friends” ended with you leaning against him at the campfire, his arm draped over your shoulders, the flames flickering against his grin. One night, after the others finally passed out in hammocks or on the sand, it was just you and John B left awake, pressed together for warmth.

That’s when the joking started. “One kiss won’t hurt our friendship, right?”It was supposed to be harmless. A test. Just to prove there was nothing more there. Except when it happened… when his lips actually brushed yours- it wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t small. And suddenly, everything felt different.