John Paul lounged back on the sofa, his bare feet stretching out, his toes curling into the softness of the cushion beneath. His thumb danced over the buttons on the TV remote making the images of the different channels flicker before his eyes. But he didn't really see any of them.

Normally the idea of having the house to himself for a few hours would have been pure bliss, but tonight he just felt restless. He should have gone with Spike to his DJ gig, but the wedding reception out in Manchester held little appeal as Spike was describing it, so John Paul declined, opting instead for a night of peace and quiet on his own. And now he wished he hadn't.

He hit the power button on the remote and the room was suddenly silenced. He laid his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes, allowing the pictures of Spike to roam freely through his mind.

A heavy banging on the front door brought John Paul out of his reverie with a start. He leapt to his feet as the banging continued.

"OK OK, I'm coming," he shouted a touch of nervousness in his voice. Somebody wanted in – badly – and John Paul had the feeling that this could only mean trouble.

He had barely unlocked the door when it was forced open as Craig marched through.

"Craig… why don't you come in," John Paul said with a mixture of relief and sarcasm in his voice, "You didn't have to try and knock the door down… what's up?"

John Paul stopped as he saw the look in Craig's eyes. They flashed with a blackness John Paul had never seen, dark and angry.

"Craig, what's wrong," he whispered, "Has something happened?"

Craig sneered, a bitter laugh breaking through the lips that were pressed together in anger.

"Spike not here?" Craig spat.

"No he…."

"Surprising. I thought you two were joined together at the hip."

"No... he's…"

"I mean he's practically one of the family now."

"Craig!" John Paul's voice was raised, "Are you even going to let me finish a sentence? Now what's going on? I don't think you came storming in here to find out where Spike was."

Craig chest was heaving with heavy breaths, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"It's all so easy now isn't it?" he said through gritted teeth, "Everything is just so bloody perfect.. One minute your… and then it's all… and never even mind anyone else… as long as John Paul is alright the rest of us can go hang…"

John Paul took a step towards his friend, his voice calm and level, something was obviously bothering Craig but he couldn't for the life of him understand what.

"Craig, you're not making any sense. What is it… what's the matter?"

"You have to ask?" Craig closed the distance between himself and John Paul snarling his words into the confused face before him. "YOU… that's what's that matter… you… and him."

"Me? Spike? What about us?" John Paul placed a hand on Craig's shoulder but it was shrugged off with annoyance. "I still don't understand… what have I done?"

"You kissed me!"

John Paul shook his head in disbelief.

"That was a long time ago Craig, we got over that… right?"

"You SAID you loved me."

"And I… I did… but I don't understand why…"

"Well it didn't take you long to get over it did it?" Craig turned with his shoulders slumped. "Didn't take you long to move on… to replace me."

John Paul stood in stunned silence for a moment until an anger of his own began to bubble to the surface.

"You can't be saying what I think you're saying." John Paul grabbed Craig's shoulder and spun his friend back to face him. "Don't you DARE tell me that you're annoyed I've moved on. What did you expect… that I was gonna pine away for you forever?"

"No… I."

"You DID… you thought I would spend the rest of my life moping in my room over YOU… and what… you could throw me a smile once in a while to make things alright. Fuck you Craig. Don't you dare come around here now trying to ruin things for me."

With that John Paul turned and headed for the stairs.

"You can let yourself out," he called over his shoulder.

John Paul stood breathless and shaking in the centre of his bedroom, anger and confusion coursed through his veins, but with them there was something else. Was Craig actually jealous?

He didn't move as he heard his bedroom door open, Craig had followed him upstairs, just like he'd hoped he would.

"Don't you walk away from me like that," Craig growled, "I hadn't finished."

John Paul turned. "Well I had," he snapped, "You've got nothing more I want to hear."

"You'll listen till I've finished." Craig brought himself once again face to face with John Paul, the heat from their breaths mingling between them.

"He's all wrong for you," Craig snarled, "Can't you see that?"

"All I can see is you… you behaving like a spoilt child whose toys have been taken away. This isn't a game Craig, and you can't always get your own way."

Craig wasn't aware that his hand had gripped the front of John Paul's t-shirt until he saw the blue fabric curled between his fingers. He didn't know when John Paul's hand had come to rest on his waist, the other on his shoulder, but he was suddenly aware that they were there.

"Sometimes I can," he whispered.

Before John Paul could answer he felt the softness of Craig's lips cover his in a kiss that made his head spin, not just because it was so unexpected, but because it was filled with a passion he had only dared dream of from Craig.

The anger between them melted in the heat of the kiss and was replaced by desire.

All thoughts of Spike were long forgotten as John Paul guided Craig to his bed.