Funny How Love Is (Maylor AU)

Chapter 92

"I'm so sorry," Brian croaked as Roger kept his back to him, dragging himself over to the frosted window and taking a seat in one of the old-fashioned armchairs, "She just told me tonight, and..." The professor took a reluctant step in the blonde's direction, wanting to hold him again and go back to the moment where they were joined together, in bed, skin touching skin, but an invisible wall was erected before him and prevented him from coming any closer to the music instructor. All he could produce was a meek, "I'm sorry, Rog."

"Why are you apologizing?" Roger's voice carried a flat, indifferent tone to it, the question manifesting as more of a statement.

"Because I'm a coward," the professor murmured, lowering himself onto the foot of the bed and returning to his previous stance—head in hands and back curved dejectedly—while Roger took a drag from the burning cigarette and stared out into the dark night, letting the smoke that had built up in his mouth escape in a steady, mesmerizing stream. "I'm a fucking coward who couldn't make up his mind and...and..."

"And now you've got a kid on the way," the blonde grumbled, his gaze trailing back over to Brian, who lifted his head just enough to meet the blue eyes directed his way. He expected him to elaborate on his comment but was surprised when all he did was extend his free hand out and say, "Hand me my shirt."

Brian, with his lip tucked under his teeth, followed the order, the music instructor snatching the previously discarded garment out of his grasp and draping it over his shoulders. He stuck his arms through the sleeves with a grace the professor couldn't imagine possible in a situation like this before getting himself comfortable and putting the cigarette back between his lips, the older of the two longing for the younger to say something more, anything, but he just sat there—head turned away from him, legs crossed, and the disintegrating white stick pinched lazily between his fingers.

The professor dropped his head and tried to relieve the dryness in his throat by swallowing, but the irritation persisted as the silence in the room became deafening. Tension sizzled the air, taking on a new form that neither Brian nor Roger knew how to eliminate. At least before, the two were aware of the cause and the solution was simple, but now that the unspeakable conversation had surfaced, the pair seemed at a loss for a way to push through it.

Finally, after a seemingly endless bout of silence, disturbed only by the buzz of the lamp perched atop the one nightstand, Brian blurted out, "I just wanted this to be perfect, Rog. I know it was last minute and not planned out at all, but I thought—"

"That you could get out of your situation by running away with me?" The blonde had stolen the words from the professor's mouth for the second time that night, glancing back at the curly-haired man and smirking sadly. "I did too." Brian lit up at the revelation and even straightened his posture, but the uplifted mood lasted almost as long as their kiss in the car did as Roger's attention reverted back to the snow falling in the sky and he continued, "For so long, I wanted to get away from Tim, but now that I have..." His voice trailed off, the professor's eyes widening.

"You think this was a mistake."

The heartbreak in Brian's voice was evident to the music instructor, but after seeing the look in his eyes when he revealed the truth, Roger knew this little stint of theirs was doomed from the start. He knew that no matter how much he or Brian convinced themselves otherwise, the professor's morals forbade him from following through with this.

Whether it be a week, a month, a year, or even five years down the road, Brian's return to Chrissie and their child together was inevitable. He didn't have the heart to abandon her like he so desired, and Roger always knew that. He thought he could ignore it and act as though that wasn't the case, seeing as he used to do it all the time with his clients and their spouses, sometimes even their children, but this situation with Brian felt different.

The blonde flicked the deteriorated end of his cigarette into the dish sitting atop the windowsill, bluntly replying, "I didn't say that, now, did I?"

"You didn't have to."

Unlike many of his other one-night stands, Roger had no desire to leave when morning came, but he knew that if he stayed and gave up everything to be with the professor, the possibility that one day he would leave him was inescapable. He couldn't imagine a world in which their story ended happily ever after, not with Chrissie and Tim in the picture, and so that worry would always be there, lingering in the shadows like a stalker in the night; threatening the music instructor's happiness and security by never revealing itself but making sure he was constantly weary of its foreboding presence.

"I thought you said we deserved this, Roger," the curly-haired man choked out, watching the blonde blow out a cloud of dissipating smoke with vision that began to blur, "I asked you if you wanted to run away, and you said yes."

"I didn't say yes," Roger reminded him rather tersely, carelessly flicking the burnt embers of his cigarette to the floor, "I said 'okay'."

"Oh, same bloody difference!" Brian exclaimed, shooting up from his spot on the mattress and finally gaining the blonde's attention, "Bottom line is you agreed to do this with me, and...and now that you know my secret, you...you're acting like I'm some kind of heathen you can't be bothered to look at!"

The music instructor chuckled, finding amusement in the professor's hysterics. "I'm not the one acting like that, Bri. You are."

Brian clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists by his sides—disgruntled by the reception his news had received. Perhaps it was the taste of excitement this tumultuous semester had granted him that gave him the preconceived notion that his confession would unfold more disastrously. Sure, he didn't imagine it happening the same night as this, but he figured the news would enrage the music instructor more than it had. After all, Brian was as much his gateway to a better life as Roger was his.

He pictured the blonde screaming at the top of his lungs, swiping a tabletop or dresser clean, and breaking down in tears at the betrayal his companion had committed. He should've known that the blonde wouldn't react that way, though, considering that blips like this were water under the bridge in Roger's narrative; situations that sadly became familiar to him and would warrant a slight change in his routine, but not one so traumatizing as to make him lose his footing. The chemistry between them was just so undeniable that the professor thought this time might be different, and little did he know it was—the blonde just refused to show it.