Moss and the Irishman - IT Crowd

Do You Know What Love Feels Like?

I checked the time on my laptop with a serious expression spread across my face.

12:58.

Two minutes. In two minutes, I would speak to Roy. Speak to Roy about something we hadn't spoken about in around nine years. But, it was fine. Speaking was not the problem in itself. In fact, I've been told I possess the ability to ramble about nothing, forever. I guess it isn't possible to ramble about nothing, it has to be about something.

12:59

Talking was the easy part. The subject matter on the other hand, was the one thing that had held enough power to ruin the one constant in my life; my best buddy Roy. It was the one thing that had loomed over both of our heads, especially Trenneman's, for the past nine years.

1:00

And I was sick of it having so much bloomin' power.

"I'm taking my break!" Jen sang out across the office.

"Bye, Jen!" Roy called back from our store room.

"B-bye Jen," I sighed a little as I watched her leave the room and took a puff of my handy asthma puffer to slightly relieve my breathing.

"You okay, Moss?" Roy asked me non-chalantly, leaning on the door frame of our store room, stirring a coffee.

"Well, Roy," I swiveled my chair around and adjusted my glasses in an attempt to maintain my composure, "I believe we should talk. Because we don't have serious talks often enough."

Roy rolled his eyes and took a swig of coffee, "How many times do I have to tell you I did not have sex with her just because she reminded me of my mum?"

"Oh, Roy, and I do not say this lightly, shut up!" I stood up and clenched my fists, doing my best impression of scary people I'd seen on the telly.

Roy let out an overdramatic gasp. One that I honestly still cannot place as sarcasm or serious. Either way, it rendered me flippin' annoyed.

"Roy Trenneman, you listen to me right now!" I hissed, and my best friend did as he was told, standing up as straight as possible for a man with his multitude of back problems.

"We have ignored that first night for nine ruddy years now and we have ignored what happened the week after for eight years and 51 mother-flippin' weeks!" I continued to whisper-yell, "And we have ignored what happened one year after that for seven years and 51 ruddy weeks!"

Roy's usual dismissive expression faded into one of shock. Memories of Moss and Roy, young and free, years ago seemed to flash before him for the second time that day.

"Look, can we-" Roy placed down his coffee cup and moved closer to me, so I instinctively stepped back.

"I am not giving you any flipping sympathy!" I folded my arms, almost a spitting image of my mother (something I hated to be, but needed to do), "Every time I try and ruddy mother-loving flipping talk this out with you, we end up having intercourse, and then you don't talk to me for a week! Why do you think I stopped!?"

I think Roy somehow detected the hurt on my face and stepped back until he bumped into his desk, and seated himself on it.

"I don't-"

"You don't love me, I know!" I threw my hands in the air, something I don't believe I'd ever done before then, "But, Roy, I know for a fact that I'm not the only one of us who enjoyed those times..."

I sighed and took a seat, lowering my voice, "If you can't admit it to me, admit it to yourself, Roy."

-

"Did you get a Valentine's Day date, at least?" I sat on my best friend's couch, ignoring the movie playing on his TV, and directing all my attention towards him, as I often did.

"Uhh... no," he sighed and took a large gulp of alcohol, "What about that girl on seventh who liked you?"

I faced my milk bottoms-up and shook my head in an attempt to look like a 'real man', "Ruddy women!"

I didn't really lik-

"You didn't really like her, did you?" Roy gave me an almost teacher like 'tell me the truth' look.

I sighed and shook my head. He knew me too well, before I even knew him too well. I never quite understood how he got me so quickly.

"Why didn't you just tell me the truth, Moss?" He playfully punched my shoulder.

I looked him up and down.

"I've never been quite sure what love feels like," I said frankly, "Do you know?"

"Honestly, Moss," Roy sighed and trailed off slightly before bringing himself back to the room, "I think I'm only just starting to learn."

"How so?" I tilted my head in confusion and stared down my best friend.

He seemed to almost pounce on me. My heart raced as I began to slouch under him. I let myself kiss him back, and wrapped my arms around his soft body. Maybe that was love. Maybe that's what he was attempting to show me.

That was the first time our lips ever touched, and it was something I, myself, could only describe as wondrous.

"Shall we take this to my bed, then?" Roy pulled away for a split second and I could do nothing but nod in agreement.

-

I sat in his lap, my hands rustling through his hair as our lips and tongues followed each other in a way that felt natural, but passionate.

"How- did it- get to this," I pulled away but kept my place securely in his lap, holding onto his shoulders, "Again?"

I watched Roy's eyes swell with tears and took this as a signal to stand up and stop acting like I was a twenty year old, young and in love, wind in my hair, milk in my stoma-

"I'm sorry, Moss," Roy sat up for the first time in a while.

I shook my head and picked up my trusty backpack and coat before running away, something I was prone to doing in uncomfortable situations.

Ruddy men.