Funny How Love Is (Maylor AU)

Chapter 76

"What are you, high?" Roger laughed, the two of them entwined on the floor together, the lights low and the cold sky outside a dark shade of blue. A thin blanket cloaked the couple's lower halves, their feet peeking out from one tattered end and their waists from the other.

"No, this...this is the first time in a while that my mind's been clear...really clear," the brunette contended, his fingers tangled in the blonde's hair and his chin resting on his bare shoulder, "And I think we should do it. I mean, we've been together long enough..."

Roger shook his head, sitting up on his elbows and gently pushing his boyfriend away, all without laying a hand on him. "It doesn't matter how long we've been together, Tim. It's illegal; we can't." He carefully neglected to mention the terrifying aspect associated with the idea of spending the rest of his life chained to someone, especially when that someone was Tim.

"But when it is legal, you and me...we can finally rule the world." The brunette sat up and moved so that he hovered over the blonde, smirking as though he was ready for round two but instead leaning in—his lips closer to Roger's ear than his mouth—and whispering in between kisses that trailed down the blonde's jaw and neck and caused his baby blues to flutter shut in pure ecstasy, "Just...like you...wanted to."

"But I thought you said—" Roger breathlessly muttered when his voice got drowned out by a loud moan, Tim finding his sweet spot. As the brunette pulled back, he tugged at his partner's skin, his teeth holding onto the tender flesh for a brief yet intense moment before he released and returned to peppering kisses down his boyfriend's bare chest.

"I know what I said," he murmured, his response vibrating against Roger's flat stomach, "But I was wrong." He planted a kiss near the blonde's navel, glancing up for but a second to see his boyfriend lost in his own bliss. He smirked and tacked on before ducking underneath the covers, "All we need is a new beginning...somewhere far, far away from London."

"Where?" Roger mused, his eyes squeezed shut and his voice strained as his hands found their way to Tim's scalp, weaving through the sweaty and disheveled locks of hair. He shuddered under his boyfriend's touch as the brunette's warm and wet tongue drew a slow and agonizing stripe down the length of his stiffening cock.

"I was thinking we'd go to America," he suggested casually, tantalizing the blonde as he circled his tongue around his tip, bringing Roger closer to becoming undone with each swirl. Tim smirked before sitting back, harshly ripping his boyfriend out of the haze that started to consume him.

"America?" Roger repeated, a whine to his voice that came from the abrupt lack of attention instead of the suggestion itself.

"Yeah," Tim murmured, placing a hand on his boyfriend's raised knee and pushing it out to the side, "You always talked about going there." Without warning, he stuck a finger inside the blonde, robbing him of the chance to properly respond—another moan slipping past his lips as his back curled up off the floor and his body gravitated towards and into Tim's hand. "Haven't you?"

It was true—he had always wanted to go to America, but he didn't want to go there to start a new life with Tim. If anything, he wanted to go there to get away from him, because it became increasingly clear over these past couple of weeks that things with Tim would always be the same. They had been for the past ten or so years, and chances of the brunette changing his ways were slim.

Roger had given him the opportunity more times than he deserved, yet he threw each and every one of them away—taking a bite of it like a child trying a new food, chewing it in his mouth long enough to please his parents, and then spitting it out onto his plate or, if he had the decency to, into a napkin the second they turned his back to him. Having been disappointed for the last time, the blonde decided he was done playing his boyfriend's games, for good. Now all he had to do was wait for Brian to do the same with Chrissie.

"Is your girl going?" Roger blurted out, a timidity to his simple and outwardly innocent inquiry that diverted his gaze back down to his lap.

"Well of course, she is," Brian replied, a lack of bitterness to his easily snide remark, "She is the headmistress, after all."

The blonde nodded his head, his eyebrows knitting together. "Right."

The professor bit his lip, looking at his own lap as well.

Another awkward pause formed in their conversation. As hard as they—or really, Brian—tried, things between them hadn't been the same since they kissed. Roger's unrelenting cheeky comments, Brian's persistent curiosity in the blonde, the irresistible chemistry the two felt with each other, they'd all seemingly vanished, having been replaced with perpetual silence and countless distractions.

The music instructor eventually heaved a sigh, attracting the professor's attention in anticipation of him saying something, but instead he just sat there, surveying the room as though he'd never been in it before. Brian pressed his lips together and dared to rise from his chair, Roger's sad eyes flickering over to meet his as he adjusted his jacket and announced apathetically, "I should probably get back to my classroom. I told my students I'd be free to answer any last questions they had, you know, about the final exam."

Roger only gave him an understanding nod, reaching across the table and taking Brian's drink into his own possession. He sipped the slightly colder beverage and stared at the dark liquid that rippled in his shaky hands, the professor watching him in sheer fascination.

Brian wanted to leave, but it was as if someone had planted his feet in the ground. He knew deep down that he couldn't leave Roger like this—their once strong and undeniable connection now only holding on by a thread; a thread so thin that all it would take to sever it was a gentle blow or tap. So, the professor swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and brought a hand to the back of his neck, muttering, "Perhaps you would like to come with me?"

The blonde looked up at him, his blue eyes glistening in the fluorescent lights that hung overhead. "What?"

"I said, would you like to come with me?" Roger still didn't seem to get it. "To the party, I mean. The Christmas party. I...I figured we could go together. I can even pick you up, if you'd like."