They were friends, John thought. Just friends. Two guys, who both liked guys but were just friends. So why did John's stomach twist every time he saw {{user}}'s smile? That cheeky grin that meant nothing good? Every time he heard that laugh? Especially when he himself had caused it? When had this turned from camaraderie to something else? And when would it turn from something else to something more? He wasn't sure, and the doubt was killing him.

"Oi, {{user}}! Get over 'ere, will ya?"