Some Day One Day (Maylor AU)

Chapter 101

Roger's tired eyes fluttered open, the bright light that shone through the tall window in front of him making it difficult to see. He groaned and grabbed at the pillow beneath his head, yanking it out from underneath him and folding it over his face. He lay there for a moment or two, trying to fall back asleep but unable to as he began thinking about the pillowcase pressed against his cheeks—particularly how soft it felt and how thick it was. It couldn't have been the old pillow Mary had loaned him for his stay at hers and Freddie's place, thin and scratchy from use. That meant it belonged to someone, and he'd only felt a fabric this soft when—

He tipped his head back and looked at the pillow, immediately noticing that it was draped in satin, just like he was. Dread suddenly washed over the blonde, and with a racing heart, he glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes falling upon Tim's face, peaceful in slumber and illuminated by the sunlight peeking through the curtains.

"Shit," Roger murmured, tossing the pillow over the bed's edge and listening to the clatter of old, empty beer bottles as the piece of décor collided with them like a bowling ball. He fell over on his back and folded his hands over his flat stomach, staring at the vaulted ceiling and racking his brain for memories of the night before.

The last thing he remembered was the two of them standing outside the concert venue, waiting for a cab. He remembered the knot that twisted his stomach, and the apprehensive look he gave Tim that encouraged the brunette to graze his hand across his cheek and lean in, kissing him for the first time since he arrived in London. At first, the blonde resisted the coercive gesture, trying his hardest to remain still and unengaged, but habit soon kicked in. He dropped his jaw just a little more and allowed gravity to bring their bodies closer together, letting Tim in even though he knew it was wrong. He couldn't help himself.

Roger dropped his head to the side and stared at his boyfriend, contemplating what to do next. How was he going to explain to Brian that he'd messed up? That he did something he knew he shouldn't have done but did anyways? He already let the professor down by hesitating to make the commitment to him that he wanted, but it would break Brian's heart if he were to find out that, instead of being with him on his big night, he'd chosen to be with Tim.

The blonde felt rotten for what he'd done. He'd made such a point of wanting to break away from the life he'd forged with the brunette and leave everything behind that made him him, yet there he was, back in bed with Tim.

He began to wonder if it was fate that kept bringing them back together. Perhaps Brian wasn't meant to be at the show last night, and perhaps he wasn't meant to run away with Roger that fateful night a year ago. The blonde even said that all they were supposed to have was that night. The few moments they had outside of that night, maybe they weren't meant to happen; maybe that's why Roger kept finding himself with Tim. It was the universe's way of reminding him that Brian was never meant to be anything more than a distraction; something to shake things up a little before they fall back into place like they should be.

With a heavy sigh, the blonde rolled over and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting on the edge and running his hand along the silk sheets. Their softness reminded him of Tim's offer. We could do this every day, you know—wake up together in a bed like this every morning, come home to a house like this every night...No more phone sex, no more clients, just you and me and this big arse house. We can do whatever we want. At the time, Roger thought it sounded absolutely ridiculous, but now, he wasn't so sure.

A loud moan emanated from the back of his throat, and he covered his face with his hands, slumping forward and resting his elbows on his knees. The blonde's frustration woke the brunette behind him and brought a small grin to his face. He stretched his stiff arms up into the air, attracting his boyfriend's attention with a low groan.

"'Morning, gorgeous," he mumbled, dropping his hands to his stomach and turning his head towards the blonde.

Roger rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the mattress, walking away and searching the floor for his clothes.

"Oh, come on!" Tim whined, sitting up on his elbows and asking, "What did I do this time?"

"You know what you did," the blonde grumbled, stepping into his discarded pair of pants and pulling them up to his waist.

The brunette couldn't hide the blush that surfaced in his cheeks, believing that his boyfriend had finally figured out what happened last night. For all he knew, Roger had stayed up all night trying to put the pieces together. It wasn't that hard if he really thought about it, but for the sake of their relationship, Tim hoped he hadn't jumped to the conclusion that would end it all.

"It wasn't me who actually did it, you know," he said defensively. "I just—"

"I don't want to hear it, Tim," Roger cut him off, zipping his fly and pushing the button through its hole. He snatched the shirt off the ground next, slipping it over his head and sticking his arms through the sleeves. As soon as he yanked it down over his chest, he knew it wasn't his, but for now it would do. Tim could always wear his shirt when he decided to get dressed. They used to share clothes all the time, at least Tim's.

"But Roger, I think you should know—"

"What did I just say?" the blonde snapped, turning towards the vanity that sat across from the bed and teasing his disheveled hair in an attempt to make it look like he hadn't just spent an entire night in the sack.

The brunette bit his lip in deep thought. He had to be upset with him for something, and if it wasn't for what really happened last night, then what was it? What did he do?

"I need to leave for a bit," Roger blurted out, meeting the brunette's gaze through the mirror. Tim remained as still as a statue, though, determined to figure out what it was that the blonde believed he did.

If it had something to do with the night they shared, he couldn't think of what. All he did was kiss him. It was Roger who pulled Tim into the cab they hailed; it was Roger who led Tim inside his grandmother's home and up to the room the brunette had taken residence in; and it was Roger who pushed Tim onto the bed and ripped both their clothes off before straddling him and running his hands down his boyfriend's chest, capturing his lips with his and lowering himself down onto him. The brunette just followed the blonde's lead, and since when was following someone's lead wrong?