Funny How Love Is (Maylor AU)

Chapter 44

The dark-haired man's request was met with silence, and so with a heavy sigh, he picked himself up from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen to do the task himself. Brian—not wanting to be left alone—followed after him, bumping into the table that sat in the center of the room as he went to cross over to the counter and hurting his hip. He gasped in pain while Freddie stifled a laugh, trying to hide the smile that appeared on his face behind his hand. The professor's head snapped in his direction, laughing a bit himself before asking, "What's so funny?"

"You're an absolute mess, darling," Freddie answered, his response disrupted by the giggles he couldn't be bothered to suppress. Instead of getting mad like Roger would have, or earning a smack on the arm like Mary would give him, the professor only nodded his head in agreement and plopped himself down in one of the chairs surrounding the small table, sinking into what Freddie could only make out to be a reflective state. Or maybe it was a depressive one. Either possibility was viable.

The dark-haired man cleared his throat after calming down from his near-crippling fit of laughter and began his search for another bottle of vodka, or perhaps an even better replacement, when Brian took in a deep breath and confessed somewhat out of the blue, "He made me bring him home, Freddie, my home." His finger drew circles on the table's surface, distracting him from the attention he'd gained by his remark. "I didn't want to, but Tim had come to the school and was looking for him, and I...I mean, what else was I supposed to do? Let Roger go home with the guy? He looked like he wanted to hurt him."

"Wait," Freddie replied, sobering up just enough to put the pieces of Brian's drunken story together as he turned around to face the professor and crossed his arms over his chest, "Did you just say Tim—"

"Roger told me he usually waits outside for him," Brian cut him off, continuing to tell his tale that had been haunting him since it happened, "But that day, he came in and...and he was just so angry. I thought he knew about us; about Roger and me. I was certain he was going to kill us." His worried eyes shot up to meet Freddie's intrigued ones. "Oh my god, what if he killed him?"

The dark-haired man shook his head in disagreement, saying, "No, Tim would never. The guy's an absolute prick, but he can't live without Roger. He needs him like I need attention." He chuckled at his own comment and sauntered over to the table, taking the seat across from the professor and leaning forwards, asking as seriously as he could manage with the amount of alcohol in his system, "Now tell me, what do you mean by you thought he knew about Roger and you? You haven't done anything, have you?"

That familiar blush in Brian's cheeks returned with an intensity Freddie hadn't witnessed all night, and while hanging his head, the professor admitted, "We kissed." The dark-haired man's eyes grew wide, accompanied by an amused grin. "It...I...We should've never done it," he tried to explain, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, "But I thought that...that if he kissed me, I-I would come to the realization that all my confusion and all my thoughts were just...in my head; that it didn't mean anything."

"But it did. It meant everything," Freddie elaborated.

Brian nodded his head in affirmation, biting his cheek to refrain from expanding on his response but not being able to as he mumbled, "I hate myself for it."

"Why?"

"Why do you think, Freddie?" the professor snapped, shooting an angry glare in his direction, his mood changing so rapidly it pushed the dark-haired man back in his chair. "Guys like me aren't supposed to feel this way towards another guy. That's just not how it works."

Freddie chuckled under his breath, folding his arms over his chest and admitting, "Actually, Brian, it's more common than you'd—"

"I don't want to hear it, Freddie," he interrupted him coldly, shaking his head in shame and muttering so quietly under his breath it was as if he didn't want the dark-haired man to hear him, "You don't know what it's like for me."

Another laugh cut through the quiet, tense atmosphere. "You wanna bet?" Freddie clasped his hands on the tabletop and leaned forward, whispering, "I'm a gay man engaged to a woman, Brian, a woman. Now, don't get me wrong." He brought a hand to his chest. "I love Mary with all my heart, and I can't stand the thought of losing her because she understands me like no other person does, but I'm gay, Brian. And I think it's safe to say that you are too."

"No! You're wrong!" the professor shouted, forgetting about his surroundings as he shot up from his seat and threw his arms in the air, "You don't even know me!"

Freddie kept a hard stare with Brian as he pointed at the abandoned chair and sternly commanded him to, "Sit down and listen to me, darling. I do."

"No! I didn't come here to 'sit down and listen to you, darling,'" he harshly retorted, mocking Roger's friend by trying to imitate his voice and mirror his flamboyant mannerisms that hadn't been present the entire conversation. "I came here because I wanted to know if you knew where Roger was, but clearly I'm the only one who gives shit about him!"

The dark-haired man folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side, looking right into Brian's hazel eyes that glistened in the shadows and asking calmly, "Then what are you still doing here, Bri?" The professor fell silent, his hands clenched into fists by his sides and his chest inflating and deflating rapidly as he struggled to bring air to his seemingly constricted lungs. "If you care so much about him, shouldn't you have left hours ago? Gone searching for him, roaming the streets of London and shouting his name? I mean, I'd imagine that's what anyone who cares about someone as much as you seem to care about Roger would do. Yet here you are, yelling at me because you can't admit that you have feelings for a man. Because it's wrong, and you've never done anything wrong in your entire life. Is that correct?"

Tears spilled down Brian's cheeks as Freddie's accusation struck a chord in him, a chord that resonated with him in such a way that made his knees go weak—his stomach in knots, his heart pounding against his chest, and his head spinning. He dropped back down into the seat he was in and covered his face with his hands, sobbing.

Freddie frowned at the broken man sitting across from him, feeling guilty for giving him such a sharp reply. It wasn't his fault for feeling the way he did. Coming to terms with the heart and the mind wanting different things wasn't easy. Hell, even Freddie himself still hadn't fully come to terms with that. If he had, he wouldn't be engaged to Mary.

So, with a deep breath, Freddie picked himself up from the seat he was in and circled the table, leaning over the crying professor and embracing him in an awkward, albeit comforting hug. "I'm sorry, Brian, but it's going to be okay. It's going to be okay, alright?"

Except, it wouldn't be.