Funny How Love Is (Maylor AU)

Chapter 25

Roger scoffed. "Tim, I don't know! I can't help what I say when you're jerking me off in my fucking sleep!" He tossed the blankets aside and swung his legs over the edge, pulling his pants up and refastening them. "Besides, did you really think that's what would've 'cheered me up'? I mean, where did you get on thinking that, after the shitty day I've had, the thing that would've made me feel better was a dumb hand job after I'd fallen asleep? How stupid are you?"

Tim stood there dumbfounded, unsure of what to say. It wasn't the alcohol holding him back—for Roger's beer was the only drink he'd had since he passed out earlier, awoken by the ringing of their landline and the blonde's plea for him to come and get him. It was the fact that there was so much he wanted to say, he couldn't choose which enraged statement he should start with. The older of the two straightened his posture after a moment and decided to respond with, "Apparently stupid enough to put up with you for this long."

"You're putting up with me?" the blonde repeated as he made his way over to his boyfriend, a fire ignited inside of him that had been long suppressed, "You're insane, Tim. Who pays the bills here? Who spent night after night with stranger after stranger just so that we could live together, so that we could be together? Oh, that's right, me! You haven't done shit! It was all me! It's always me!"

Roger's head jerked to the side, a stinging sensation manifesting in his jaw as Tim breathed heavily, dropping his hand back down to his side and reminding him in a deep growl, "You're forgetting who got you those gigs, Roger." The blonde clenched his fists tightly in an attempt to refrain from retaliating. "Without me, they would've never known about you. You would've never built your reputation—"

"Have you ever considered that maybe I didn't want that kind of reputation?" the blonde retorted angrily, shoving Tim back and causing the older one to do the same but with much more force and a maintained grip as the two of them fell to the floor together, Roger hitting the back of the bed on their way down. He kicked Tim away from him and scrambled up onto the mattress, standing at the end over his boyfriend and shouting, "Because I don't, Tim! I want to be known for something I do, not something Liz does. And those guys, they don't know me." His voice tapered off as he uncomfortably crossed his arms over his chest, muttering a near inaudible, "They only know Liz..."

"And what's so wrong about that?" Tim replied, matching his boyfriend's stance as he tilted his head back to look up at him. "You're always going on about how you want to be someone else, someone different. Well, Liz is your someone else, and I gave that to you." He picked himself up off the ground and poked Roger's flat stomach. "She's the one who 'pays the bills' and 'spends night after night with stranger after stranger so that we can be together,' not you. So why not instead of thanking me by cheating on me with some fucking wanker named Brian, you appreciate the things I've done for you and not be the ungrateful slut that you are!"

The blonde scoffed before he lowered himself down from the bed and stood right in front of Tim, muttering a threatening, "I wouldn't go down that road if I were you, Tim."

He took a step towards Roger, eliminating any and all space between them, and sneered, "

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes," Tim snarled, suddenly turning away from him and snatching one of the pieces of clothing that was pushed off the dresser up from the floor. He slung it over his shoulder and announced flatly with his head hung low, "I'm going out to get more beer. You want anything while I'm out?"

Roger pressed his lips together in resistance to answering his boyfriend's question before sighing in defeat and muttering, "No, I'm fine."

"Okay," he replied, leaving the bedroom with the slam of their door and abandoning Roger in the silence that quickly filled the apartment. The blonde slunk to the floor and rested his back against the end of the bed, staring at the mess to his right and thinking about everything that Tim had said to him.

You need me, and you know it.

You couldn't leave me even if you wanted to.

You're always going on about how you want to be someone else, someone different. Well, Liz is your someone else, and I gave that to you...So why not instead of thanking me by cheating on me with some fucking wanker named Brian, you appreciate the things I've done for you and not be the ungrateful slut that you are!

Roger bit his cheek and looked over at his bag that, when they got home, had been tossed carelessly in front of the dresser. He crawled across the floor, through the mess, and flipped open the top, reaching in and pulling out his notebook, along with a pen. He flicked the cap off—the small piece of plastic bouncing on the wooden floors a couple times before rolling out of sight, never to be found again—and began to scribble down the thoughts filling his head, his pen strokes becoming more impassioned with each line that flowed from his mind.

Time flew by as Roger expressed his feelings on paper, getting out as much as he could before he succumbed to the slumber that was slowly creeping up on him, the notebook in his lap and the pen by his feet. Tim stumbled upon this sight after returning from his liquor run and smiled slightly, setting down the bag filled to the brim with different bottles of alcohol—including a few of Roger's favorite, Southern Comfort—and walking over to his boyfriend.

He mindlessly picked the notebook out of Roger's lap and placed it atop the cleared off dresser he was leaned against, slipping his arms underneath the blonde and lifting him up off the floor, bringing him back over to the bed. He gently laid him down and left a kiss on his forehead, returning to where the brown paper bag was on the floor and going to put the drinks away when Roger's notebook caught his attention.

Tim bit his lip and looked back at the blonde, making sure he was still asleep before letting his curiosity get the best of him and drag him over to the book, snatching it up with his free hand and looking at what his boyfriend had written while he was gone. His eyes skimmed the words on the page, and with each line he glanced over, the smile he had adorned himself with faded away, slowly being replaced with a scowl.

He snapped his head back over his shoulder, glaring at the sleeping music instructor, and threw the notebook to the ground out of anger. He left the room with a newly infuriated haste and, for the second time that night, slammed the door behind him, waking up the blonde with a nervous start.

"Tim?"