Some Day One Day (Maylor AU)

Chapter 26

Everything Tim did was out of the need to keep Roger by his side. He was the absolute love of his life, and he didn't know what else to do to make him stay, because even making it just the two of them—moving to a place where they had no friends, no family, and no one to fall back on—proved unsuccessful. He still felt like they were growing apart. The closest they'd been in months was in that bathroom the night before, Roger sitting complacently on the tub's edge—casually taking swigs of room temperature beer—while Tim snipped away at the uneven locks of hair, and for the first time in a while, they two of them just...talked.

The conversation was light, innocent, and helped pass the time that would've otherwise dragged on painfully, each man eventually yelling at the other for something they did or said. No arguing ensued, though, and when Tim was finished, he stood Roger in front of the mirror in anticipation of his reaction. He feared the blonde would be enraged, for the resulting look was something that he hadn't tried in ages, but to his surprise, Roger turned around and crashed his lips into his. Tim instantly tasted the alcohol on the blonde's tongue but reveled in the previously denied affection he was receiving.

Before he knew it, they were stumbling over each other's feet and tugging at one another's clothes. A shocked gasp escaped Tim as Roger pushed him back onto their bed, tearing off the garments that hung loosely from his limbs and climbing on top of him. Tim knew he'd be a fool not to follow the blonde's lead, and so he did—quite eagerly.

Those fleeting moments of passion between them came too far and few to define their relationship, but they did remind the couple of how good things could be when Roger wasn't trying to recreate himself, and when Tim wasn't exploiting his boyfriend for a cheap pound. It was sad, how they only got along when they pretended to be people they weren't; when they slipped back into their old selves. The problem was, they weren't teenagers anymore. And they never would be.

Snapping Tim out of the morose daze he fell into, reminiscing about last night and the way Roger's hands trailed up and down his sides, his soft lips grazing his skin, someone walked up behind the bartender and jostled him, holding onto his upper arms and saying something that didn't register in the brunette's mind. Tim cautiously set his drink down on the bar and straightened his posture, watching as the muffled conversation continued to unfold before him—laughs shared under their breaths; their eyes flickering between each other and Tim until they landed on the latter.

"Geoff, this is Tim," Roger introduced the two, raising his hand in his boyfriend's direction before shifting it over to the stranger, "Tim, this is Geoff."

"You did a phenomenal job on your boy, Tim," Geoff complimented him, wrapping his arm around Roger's back and pulling him in for a side-hug that ignited a spark of jealousy in the brunette. However, Tim refrained from jumping over the counter and instead forced a smile on his face, watching as Geoff pinched the blonde's cheek and added, "It was about time he got his New York City makeover."

"Is that even a thing?" Roger wondered aloud, looking over at his coworker.

"It is when you're trying to reinvent yourself," he replied, grinning widely, "All you've got to do now is lose the accent and then you'll be just like the rest of us."

Tim cleared his throat, regaining the two men's attention. "I, for one, think he's fine just the way he is." He clenched his jaw and locked eyes with the blonde, tacking on tersely, "He's always been fine just the way he is."

A somber look washed over Roger's face, struggling to find the truth in his boyfriend's words. Even Geoff couldn't hold back the chuckle that slipped past his lips. "No need to get worked up over there, Timmy. I'm just messing with him a little."

"It's Tim," the blonde corrected his coworker in a whisper, stealing the opportunity from the brunette whose reaction would have most likely ended up with him being kicked out of the establishment and Roger losing his job, "Just Tim."

"Oh, my sincerest apologies," Geoff replied with mocking sincerity, going so far as to raise a hand to his chest and adorning his face with a remorseful expression. "What can I do to make up for it?"

"How about you leave my boyfriend alone and do your job?" Tim suggested rather harshly, earning an eye roll from the blonde and a scoff from the other bartender.

"Someone must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Roger's coworker observed, resting his hands on his hips.

The brunette slammed his hands down on the counter and shot up from the chair, leaning over the counter and exclaiming, "You know what? I did!"

"Tim, please," Roger begged with pleading eyes, "Not here."

"I can tell," Geoff murmured, ignoring the blonde's warning as the corner of his lip deviously curled upward. He suddenly rounded the bar, joining the crowd that the counter typically separated the employees from, and hooked arms with Tim. "Why don't you and I go upstairs for a bit? I've got a special cure for people who wake up on the wrong side of the bed."

Tim violently shook the bartender off him and harshly asked, "Why the hell would I go upstairs with you?"

"Because you told me to do my job," he answered, not allowing the brunette's sour attitude to affect him like he intended it to, "And it's my job to make people like you feel better. Come on." He deftly grabbed Tim's hand and dragged him away, the brunette looking back at Roger for help. The blonde helplessly shrugged his shoulders, watching as his boyfriend and his coworker escaped upstairs—the strange beginning to a beautifully disastrous friendship.