The Debt of Guilt [BxB]

49: after

June
1995

When Peter entered the coffee shop, Roy gave him a weary smile, his dark eyes quickly scanning the room, "Hey." He said quickly, turning around to check that his manager wasn't around.

The guilt came instantly, twisting through Peter's gut and crawling up his throat. "Hi." He replied, "You okay?"

Roy nodded hesitantly, "Yeah." He said dismissively, "But hey, listen, I'm not sure if it's a good idea for you to be in here." He said apologetically, "My manager - Nancy - she knows who you are. Saw you in the paper and...well..." He smiled guiltily, "I'm sorry."

"Oh." Peter nodded understandingly, "Yeah, sure, that's fine, I'll go. I just wanted to talk to you - I'm sorry for not being around for the last few days."

Roy shrugged, "It's okay. I heard about..." He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, "About the overdose." He whispered, "Figured you'd be with him. Is he okay?"

Peter sighed. The world was cruel, publicising Danny's lowest moments like that. Stripping him of his privacy when he needed it the most. "Yeah, he's okay." Peter smiled weakly.

"Good, I'm glad." Roy said, and he sounded genuine. "Listen, I finish in an hour. Meet me on the rooftop?" And as he asked it, his hands fiddled with the coffee machine, quickly whipping up a drink for Peter before his manager emerged from the stock room.

"Yeah, sounds good." Peter agreed, dread building in his chest at the thought of what was to come; the cutting of ties for a relationship he had only just started to build. One which made him happy, one which had so much potential. But one that wasn't fair to Roy. Because he deserved so much better than Peter.

"Here." Roy handed him a takeaway cup, filled with burning hot coffee, "I put a shot of vanilla in it." He smiled.

Why are you so sweet? Peter smiled, "How much do I owe you?"

Roy scoffed, "I don't know why you even bother asking that anymore." He rolled his eyes, "Get out of here, Peter."

Peter couldn't prevent a grin tugging at his lips. It hurt how happy Roy made him. Because everything with Roy was so easy. So simple. No complicated history. No lingering anger. No guilt. No betrayal. No resentment. Just Roy. Roy with his pretty eyes and cute apartment and funny American accent.

When Peter got to the rooftop, he almost changed his mind. He considered not telling Roy that they needed to end things. He considered pretending everything was fine. He considered happiness.

But he had vowed to stop being selfish. To stop lying. To stop hurting people.

When Roy joined him a little later, he collapsed into the deck chair beside Peter, gaze tracing the skyline before him. "I started coming here the first week I moved to LA." He said after a moment of silence, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Everything was so overwhelming; people everywhere. Up here, it was just me."

While Roy watched the buildings laid out before them, Peter watched Roy, "I still don't understand why you first took me up here."

Roy chuckled, "You were overwhelmed too. I could tell." He looked at Peter, affection in his gaze, "You reminded me of myself when I first moved to the city. Feeling all lost and small."

Peter sighed, "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Of course, you had a reason to feel overwhelmed." Roy continued, "Daniel Fox, the media..." He trailed off for a moment, "That's too much for anyone to deal with."

Peter hated how perfect he was, how kind he was, how understanding he was. "We need to talk." He said suddenly, and his voice was hard and cold and ugly.