It was supposed to be fun, playing in the snow, then going back to Joey's parents' house for hot chocolate, or shopping, or sitting around inside when the weather was too shitty. And it was fun, Justin supposed, except then it got bad at night.
Somehow, he wouldn't be able to take any of it, at night. He'd crawl into a cold bed, always alone, and curl around a pillow in a fetal position untl he got warm. And it was then that he'd start to cry, with watery tears and harsh sobs that made his chest hurt. It happened every night without fail, but when he woke up in the morning, he didn't know why it happened, and he didn't really feel like crying any more.
He woke up early one morning, when they had only a week left in New York. It was past eight, so the sun had risen, but he didn't think anyone else was awake. He was wrong, though, because he found Chris sitting in the living room, unmoving. Chris was still in his boxers and a t-shirt, and his hair was a little disheveled, but it looked like he'd been there awhile.
"Hey," Justin said softly, and joined him on the couch. He hooked an arm around Chris' waist and rested his head on his shoulder.
Chris said nothing for a time, until, "J, are you depressed?"
Justin started at that. "What? No," he said, and paused, taking his head from Chris' shoulder. "Why?"
Chris barely moved when he shrugged. "I hear you crying at night. Sometimes I want to come in, but it's your business. Just wondering, is all."
"I -" Justin faltered. "It's not all the time. Like. It's just at night. It just. It makes me feel so alone."
"It's always the worst at night," Chris said, and Justin thought maybe he was going to go all psychological on him.
Instead, Justin said, "You could, um. You could come in, if you want. It might, you know, help."
"Yeah," Chris said, and got up.
It got dark early, Justin noticed, and the snow wasn't as bright as he thought it would be. The sun would set around five, and it was black by seven, and he thought maybe the darkness of winter had a lot to do with the tears, too.
That night, his head hurt from too much amaretto-saturated hot chocolate, and it was a little worse when he got into the cold bed. The crying started sooner, with more intensity, and sent his body quivering, but almost as soon as it began, Chris was next to him, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades.
"Can you sit up," Chris mumbled in his ear, and as Justin complied, Chris folded him into his arms. Justin clung to him and cried on his shoulder, but that didn't last long.
"Stay with me," Justin said, when sobs turned to weak hiccups, so Chris did.
Chris was already up when Justin woke up the next morning, but he found that he didn't really mind.
Chris slept with him, after that, until they left New York. It wasn't a sexual thing, because Chris hardly touched him, unless he touched Chris first, and that was rare. It wasn't so much that he wanted Chris, he thought, as it was that he didn't want to be alone, and since Chris didn't appear to want him either, it worked.
When they flew back into Orlando, Justin decided it was just New York that was the problem, because he wasn't really crying any more. He wasn't, anyway, for a week or so, until his body realized it wasn't sharing the bed.
And he began to think that maybe it wasn't New York or the darkness or the winter or even really the night, he was just lonely as fuck, and it took all that for him to realize it.
"You sleeping all right?" Chris asked, when Justin saw him next.
"No," Justin said, and hoped maybe Chris would suggest that he could come over.
And Chris did, when he said, "I'll come keep you company, if you want, since that seemed to help before."
"Yeah," Justin said, and when Chris came over later, he was already crying, even though the Florida sun hadn't even set.
"This is really bad," Chris said, as Justin cried. "You think maybe you want to go see somebody about it or something?"
Justin mumbled a "no" against Chris' shoulder, and held on tighter, as though maybe he would lose himself if he let go.
"This has to stop." Chris lifted Justin's face to be level with his; Justin's eyes were red and swollen. "I can't always be here for you."
"Why not?" Justin asked, voice weak.
When Chris' lips met his, he wished maybe he'd spent less time crying and more time letting Chris kiss away the tears.