Funny How Love Is (Maylor AU)

Chapter 68

"I'm sorry, Roger," Brian apologized, not knowing how else to respond to the blonde's vague confession, Roger keeping the details of the events that perspired the night before to himself.

The music instructor shrugged his shoulders, a disheartened chuckle slipping past his lips as he pushed the wig deeper inside his bag. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to make it up to you," the professor answered boldly, raising Roger's eyebrow in bewilderment. "For yesterday, at least. I-I wanted to come back and finish our conversation, I really did. I just—"

"Got caught up in the janitor's closet?" The blonde's lips perked up at the mortified expression that appeared on Brian's face upon his attempt to finish his sentence. He tilted his head to the side and brought a hand to the back of his neck, a blush manifesting in his own cheeks. "Yeah, I know. Paul told me first thing this morning. 'Didn't even mention my getup." Roger crossed his arms and pouted his lips, somewhat disappointed in the janitor's perceived lack of awareness. "And he saw me in everything."

"You're not mad at me, are you?" Brian blurted out.

"Why would I be mad at you for shagging your girlfriend?" he retorted with a lighthearted huff, the answer obvious to him.

The taller of the two shrugged his shoulders, shamefully admitting, "I just feel like I did something bad."

"The only bad thing you did was choosing the janitor's closet to fuck her in," the music instructor joked, playfully punching Brian in the arm, which he gained a disapproving glare from. "Oh, come on, man. Lighten up. All I'm saying is that there were a ton of other places here you could've chosen. I mean, for fuck's sake, that Debbie girl gave me a list of places I could meet her at if I ever fancied a..." he noticed the professor's wide eyes and allowed his voice to falter off, a nervous chuckle replacing it as he shoved his hands into his pockets and continued, "You know, I'm gonna stop myself right there, but, uh, the point is...I bet most of them, if not all, give Skeevy McGee's office a run for its money."

"I'm trying to be serious here, Roger," Brian explained, a lowness to his voice as he took a step closer to the blonde and whispered, "Because I really meant what I said to you."

Roger bit his lip, his eyes drifting towards the professor's slightly parted lips, begging to be met by his own.

He could see it now, eliminating the space between them and fulfilling what seemed like a long-destined prophecy. They'd stumble over each other's feet, blindly making their way into the music instructor's room, and ungracefully collide with the wall opposite the door as they focused on one thing and one thing only—each other. The blonde would use the flat surface for additional support as he perched himself on Brian's hips, getting a better feel for the clothed erection that was previously pressed against his thigh. The moans that would slip past his lips as the professor peppered kisses down his neck and to his collarbone would ring loudly in their ears, the moment intensifying with the men's growing lust until their desires manifested in an awkward reality, Roger guiding Brian through the motions and trying to keep his patience while they searched for that rhythm they found the first time they kissed. He wouldn't give up until he found it, because he knew it was there, and he knew just how good it would feel, better than all the other times because it was with someone he actually liked.

"That...That's great, Brian," the music instructor stammered, feeling himself getting worked up and adjusting his bag accordingly. His cheeks burned as he reluctantly went on to say, "But I...I meant what I said too."

"About what?"

"About wanting to be alone." The words pained Roger like saying "I love you" to Tim after that dreaded weekend did. He wanted them to be genuine, but he found it difficult to convince himself of their authenticity.