Funny How Love Is (Maylor AU)

Chapter 33

The two university employees found themselves in Brian's living room, curled up on opposite ends of the couch with glasses of whiskey in their hands—turns out, Brian did have something for them. A regretful expression stained Roger's face, while a sickened one marked Brian's. The blonde's gaze flickered over from the fire that had been made in the fireplace to the professor who was still staring into the flames, the music instructor's words playing over and over again in his head like a record he couldn't understand.

Roger parted his lips to speak when Brian cut him off, blurting out, "So, let me get this straight. You're a prostitute?"

The blonde gulped, looking down at the almost-empty glass of amber gold and answering vaguely, "I suppose you can call it that."

"...but you dress up as a woman."

He sighed, his cheeks burning hot from embarrassment and shame as he distractedly swirled the drink in his hand. "Tim told me I'd get more clients that way. 'Said there was a hidden market willing to pay for it—a lot for it."

All Brian could do was nod his head, his brain working twice as hard as it normally would to try and comprehend Roger's situation. One would think that, with a master's degree in Astrophysics, he'd be able to grasp the concept easier, but it proved near impossible.

The professor took a long sip of whiskey, finishing the drink in one swig and setting it down on the coffee table parallel to the couch and fireplace. "I just don't get it," he retorted, "Wouldn't they know you're not a woman once you...you know?"

"They're into it, Brian," Roger explained painfully, bringing a defeated hand up to his forehead.

This wasn't how he'd imagined their night would go. Everything had been pointing towards the perfect evening—he'd convinced Brian to bring him back to his place and he'd gotten him right where he wanted him, writhing from the lack of space between them alone. Then things took a turn for the worse, and he was forced into doing the one thing he didn't want to do, the professor giving him no choice but to reveal the very thing he intended never to share.

Roger would've rather done anything else, anything, but there he found himself, having laid it all out on the table for Brian to pick at. The worst part of it all was that the professor didn't seem to get it, and so he had to keep repeating himself, over and over and over again.

The professor hummed in acknowledgement and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands out in front of him. "Is that so?"

"Look, I'm not proud of it, okay?" the blonde mumbled in defense, dropping his hand into his lap and finally glancing over at the curly-haired man, "I did it because we needed the money, and I kept doing it because I was good at it and they liked me."

"Then why did you stop?" Brian questioned with a genuine sincerity.

"Because I didn't want to be selling myself out like that for the rest of my life," Roger replied, standing up from the couch and sulking over to the fireplace, where he picked up another one of the pictures off the mantle—this one displaying the professor at his graduation, "I mean, you wouldn't. Would you?"

Brian shook his head. "No, of course not."

The music instructor took in a deep breath, saying, "Exactly. That's why when your girl gave me an out, I took it. Sure, it was in exchange for never seeing one of my highest paying clients again, but—"

"I still can't believe she's married," the professor interjected sadly, still hung up on that fact, despite having tried his hardest to not focus on that. "And that her husband...and you..." He dug his fingers into his hair and whimpered, "God, why wouldn't she tell me?"

"If it makes you feel any better, her husband doesn't hold a candle to you," the blonde attempted to console him, staying on the other side of the room. It didn't feel right closing the gap anymore. "I mean, a lot of people don't hold a candle to you. I know Tim certainly doesn't."

Brian glanced over at Roger, a frown on his face. "So, what? I'm just some second choice for people in shitty relationships?"

The music instructor sighed. "That's not what I meant, Brian. I'm just trying to make this easier for you to understand. And before you can say anything else..." he shot a finger in the professor's direction, "...I didn't ask for this. You did. I wanted to keep this a secret."

The older man sat back on the couch, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to his forehead. The blonde bit his lip and set the picture back down on the mantle, pushing himself away from the fireplace and reclaiming his seat at the other end of the couch. He looked over at Brian to see if he noticed his presence, but his eyes remained closed and covered by his hand.

Roger leaned forward and hung his head guiltily, mumbling, "I'm sorry, Brian. I didn't mean for this to happen."

The professor sat there for a moment, the tension building between them. The immediate response that popped into his mind was "But it did," however, he was smart enough to know that a remark like that wouldn't make this night any better. He didn't know if anything would make this night better, and so Brian found himself saying in a low, hesitant voice, "You should go, Roger."

The blonde's head snapped in the professor's direction, helplessly watching as Brian pulled himself up from the couch and met his colleague's gaze that began to waver with tears. An awkward moment, something that had become a common occurrence that night, passed between the two of them once more before Brian shook his head and muttered, "Just go," slipping out of the room and disappearing upstairs.

Once the heavy footsteps were replaced by the slam of a door, Roger broke down, covering his face with his hands as quiet sobs began to rack his body.

This was exactly what Roger was trying to avoid, yet there was, with nothing more to hide and no more lies to tell.

He blew it.