OC Oneshots

A Liar's Promise

Roger Beckett (Im_Not_Old_Sport)
Johnson Morgan

CW: Cheating

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~Story Begins~

Johnson took a deep breath, tired from the long evening tailoring. He was exhausted, but a little bit of him had been happy to leave work. He got to go home to his lovely Roger. 

He had stopped by a shop earlier that day, taking a lovely bouquet of roses. Pinks and reds that sport majestic petals. They were Roger's favorite. 

Giddy, staring at the bundle, Johnson moved a bit quicker. He wanted to get home as soon as possible to his lover. 

The lovely spring evening seemed to call his name, urging him to take his time. The clouds illuminated pink with the lowering sun- god, what a spectacular view. 

Smiling warmly, Jon grazed his fingers tenderly over the petals of a red rose. He was nearing home, and he knew that Roger would be in bed reading. 

So, he stepped lightly onto the doorstep, walking on in. "Roger!"

No reply sounded. 

This wasn't uncommon; sometimes Roger would be entranced in a story or asleep. Johnson moved upstairs, pulling the bedroom door open. "Roger, dear-?"

"Jon-!" A very panicked voice rang. Johnson lit a lantern, freezing in place. 

Roger lay beside a woman, both in the nude. 

Johnson dropped the bouquet, lifting the hand to cover his mouth. "Roger-"

"It isn't what it looks like-"

"Isn't it!? Then why the hell is some noble woman lying in my part of the bed? I remember you told me you never had much interest in women-"

"Jonny-"

"No! Don't call me that!" Johnson shouted, looking at the woman. "Why-?"

Roger stumbled up, fixing his breeches. He stumbled over himself before hurrying to Johnson. The freckled man was red with anger.

"Did I do something wrong?" 

"Jon- no- of course not-"

"Then why would you-" Johnson cut himself off, running his fingers into his hair. "I thought-" his lip began to quiver. That's the reason that side of the bed hadn't felt like his own; she had been in it. Hell, no wonder Roger had gone without their wedding band!

Johnson stepped away, nearly running into a wall. "What happened to "til death does us part," huh? What happened to you loving me? Was I not enough? Could I not provide what you needed? Was it my lack of wealth and eloquence!? I was trying my goddamned best, Roger! I fucking loved you! I swear to god I loved you!" 

Roger lifted a hand, stumbling over his words. "Jon- I-I don't love her- my father-"

"Then why did you fucking sleep with her? Why did you sneak her into MY bedroom, sleep with her in MY bed, and set aside the ring I spent fucking months saving for! I sacrificed so much because I love you!" Johnson sobbed, casting his hand to the side. He stared at the wedding band, soon tugging it off his finger and shoving it into Roger's chest. "I'm done. Fuck this, and fuck you. I'm going back to the United States. I should've fucking known."

"Jon-"

"Shut up, Roger. Shut the fuck up. Unless you give me some valid reason that you're sleeping with a woman, I don't want to hear from you."

"My father," the taller man manages to croak. "He found out about our affairs, Johnson. He would've killed me had he found the rumors were true. My family legacy-"

"Legacy?" Johnson laughed bitterly. "You ruined what we had for a legacy? I would've defended you with my every wit, yet the small threat of your legacy was enough to drive you to betray me? Those years meant nothing?" 

"They meant everything," Roger took Jon's hands into his own. "I'm still so in love with you. You're the only one for me, Jon. I swear- I took an oath. She means nothing."

Jon jerked his hands back, slapping Roger across the face. "Then you should've thought about that before you went behind my back. I never want to see your face again. Don't even consider writing, don't apologize because I know you don't mean it."

Roger panicked, desperately catching Jon by the forearm. "Please, give me one more chance, darling. We can make this work! I promise you; I will stop worrying about my legacy! I'll write to my father if I must! Please, I can make this work!"

Johnson's shoulder sank. "You made a promise once. You broke it. I'm not getting caught up on another promise from a liar's mouth." He shrugged the man's hand off, moving to the room door. The woman had risen from the bed, covering herself. She seemed frightened, almost confused by the situation. Jon offered her a sympathetic look before glaring at Roger. "Everything that belongs to me is now yours. Take my clothes, my sewing utensils, and take my fucking love. Give it away like you gave my heart. Take my tailor shop and sell it. It's yours. I don't give a fuck anymore."

Roger whimpered, tears rolling down his face. "Jon, my love-"

"I'm not yours, Roger. Get over it." Johnson lowered his head, moving down the hallway. Tears streamed warmly down his face. He couldn't fight it anymore. He slammed his fist into the wall, watching as the weak wood snapped into splinters. The pain seemed to numb the emotional stress. 

"Jon-!"

Johnson looked at the top of the stairs at the half-dressed man. "What don't you understand!?"

"Jon... Please. Stay with me. I'll sleep in my office- you can have the bed! I'll continue working! You can stay home! I'll make sure she doesn't come back here! She'll never come between us again!"

Johnson drew his hand back, staring at his bloodied knuckles. He didn't have the money to get to America; he couldn't earn it anytime soon.

"Get her out of this house, hand over my wedding bands, and lay down to rest."

Roger sank to the floor, quivering. "Thank you, Johnson. Thank you-"

"Don't... don't speak to me. I am unbelievably angry with you. I loved you so much, yet you wasted those years of bonding for legacy. I don't want to see your face." Johnson spat, glaring at his... former lover. All those memories they shared seemed to flood his brain. He still loved this man- how could he leave? 

He seemed too hard to forgive.

He can't forgive him. Not yet...

---

Roger returned to the room, ordering that the woman leave. As she left, he took a deep breath, hiding his face in a pillow. 

There on the floor, that beautiful bouquet remained unharmed. 

Why?

Because Johnson knew that they were Roger's favorite flowers.