Funny How Love Is (Maylor AU)

Chapter 14

"I mean it, Fred," Roger warned him as he leaned against the top of Mary's borrowed car, looking into the cabin at his friend oddly in the driver's seat, admiring all the gauges and buttons like a child whose parents let the m pretend to drive while the car stood still in their driveway. Except, there was no pretending in this situation, and the car was running. "Stay under the speed limit and take the back roads only, okay? I don't want you running into any cops."

"Yes, yes," the older one murmured, running his hands up and down the steering wheel, "I heard you the first thousand times."

"And what did I say?"

Freddie pressed his lips tightly together and finally looked up at the blonde, his big, brown eyes glistening in the night. "Darling, it's late. Can't we just say goodnight and be on our ways? I'm sure your boy's dying up there with his aching cock anyways, waiting for you to—"

"Stop," Roger cut him short, bringing a mischievous grin to the inexperienced driver's face. He rolled his eyes and said, "Just drive very carefully, alright? I don't have enough money to post your bail. Not yet."

Freddie chuckled. "You won't have to worry about that, dear. I'll be fine. We'll talk later, yeah?"

The blonde nodded his head in agreement and took a step back, watching as Freddie revved the car's engine and sped off, clipping the bumper of one of the cars sitting in the street and sending a small shower of sparks to the pavement. Roger gasped at the incident and froze in place, his eyes darting to the complex the car was parked out in front of in fear that someone might've heard or seen it. Luckily, no lights were turned on, and before any could be, the blonde shook his head in disappointment and escaped the scene, picking up the welcome mat placed outside the door of his and his boyfriend's flat and using the spare key hidden underneath it to get inside.

He didn't even make it through the doorway before discovering Tim on the couch, on his knees, with his dick deep inside some man Roger had never seen before, though he looked eerily similar to himself. "Really?" the blonde yelled, attracting both men's attentions. "Are you fucking serious?"

"Well, I'll be damned. There he is," Tim greeted coldly, pulling himself out of the stranger without warning and standing up, his legs weak as he struggled to keep himself on his feet. The alcohol on his breath was noticeable from across the room. "I was just talking about you, love." He laughed and staggered forward. "You want to know something funny, babe? Blake, over here, says he's a student at that dumb college you work at. Or should I say, 'work' at." He raised his hands and bent his index and middle fingers, putting an ironic emphasis on the word as a smirk appeared on his face.

"I-It's actually Ben," the stranger corrected him timidly, now awkwardly sitting on the couch with one of the decorative pillows in his lap.

"Oh, shut up, Brent," Roger's boyfriend slurred, lazily waving his hand at him, "No one actually gives a shit."

"I think it's time for you to go, Ben," the blonde muttered, hanging his head in avoidance of the other two's gazes and bringing his hand up to his forehead.

Ben took no time at all in gathering his clothes and attempting to slip outside, only to be stopped by Tim who grabbed him by the arm and said, "No, stay. I want him to watch." His eyes trailed back over to Roger, an evilness to the brown stare. "He deserves it after making me wait for him at his school for nearly an hour."

The music instructor rolled his eyes and chuckled. "An hour? Wow, I'm surprised you stayed that long. Usually you can only spare five minutes."

"You're an arsehole," Tim growled at Roger, tears forming in his eyes as he harshly poked his finger into Roger's chest with his free hand. "You always do this to me. Always! And all I do is...is love you, and care for you, and...and you treat me like shit! Like you're too good for me when you're not!" It was clear that Tim was plastered, and part of the blonde wished Mary was here to witness this because then she'd know what it looked like when someone was actually drunk.

"Go, Ben," Roger grumbled, resting his hands on his hips and turning his head away from the student who tore his arm out Tim's grip and scurried out of the flat, closing the door behind him loudly.

The blonde listened to the disappearing footsteps and waited until they were completely gone before meeting his boyfriend's glazed-over stare and shaking his head, trying to find the words to say but failing miserably. This was a new low, even for Tim.

"You make me sick, you know that?" Tim spoke out, his lips quivering as he eliminated the distance between the two of them, "You really do, Rog. This...This new thing you're doing, it's not you. It's not you at all. W-Why can't you just be happy with what you have?"

Roger's eyes doubled in size at his boyfriend's accusation, repeating his question back to him in angered disbelief, "Why can't I just be happy with what I have? Oh, I don't know, Tim, maybe because I came home to my shitty flat and found my arsehole of a boyfriend fucking some stranger because my new job kept me late and, as punishment, he wanted me to watch them do it? God, Tim, I don't know why I wouldn't be happy about that!"

"You're just angry because you haven't been good enough to get it," the drunkard replied, "Maybe...Maybe if you stopped pretending to be someone you're not, you'd see what the real problem is here."

Roger scoffed and broke out into an incredulous grin. "And what is the real problem here, Tim? Me?"

He stood there for a moment, staggering back from Roger as if to build up momentum to answer him, but instead of giving a verbal response, he fell forward and clasped his hands over his mouth, the contents of his stomach spewing all over Roger's pants and shoes. The blonde groaned in disgust and pushed past his boyfriend who'd collapsed to his knees and was clinging to the floor like it was being pulled out from underneath him.

"Roger, w-wait!" Tim cried, reaching his hand out for him as an angry door slam reverberated through the flat's thin walls.