Title: RepubliCAN Fix This
Disclaimer: I don't own American Dad. But I would like to thank Seth MacFarlane for bringing gay side characters into my life.
Pairing/Characters: Terry Bates/Greg Corbin
Warnings: REPUBLICAN. o__o
Summary: During the episode "Lincoln Lover" Terry and Greg have a temporary break-up. By the end of the episode all is well. But what happened to get them there?
Author's Notes: I wrote an American Dad! fanfiction. I swear to Stockholm, something is wrong with me.
Well, anyway. I don't know what possessed me to sit down and write a fanfiction for Greg and Terry from American Dad! but whatever did, I'd like to thank them. I'm actually very pleased with the way this fanfiction came out despite the fact that it seems sort of silly to be writing about side characters for a satirical series that really isn't serious at all. At least not traditionally serious.
But I find something oddly alluring about this couple and I couldn't help but write it. The little section in "Lincoln Lover" provided the perfect space to do a little filler thing and I'm glad that I did it. Maybe I'll write for these two again sometime.
Thanks to my super-helpful beta, who will hopefully keep me on task and stay on task with her own goal to write one story a week.
Enjoy!
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It wasn't even just that the ship had gotten back late, it was that somehow he had gotten stuck with the duty of seeing everyone off and making sure that the cleaning crew got started. This job belonged to someone else but they, wisely, had snuck into hiding before their number came up. He shouldn't have been too surprised, all things considered, because it wasn't the first time it had happened. Reliable Greg, perfectly capable of cleaning up after other people's messes even if he had his own life to live. And why should anyone ever question his resolve to do someone else's work? After all, his life clearly revolved around serving other people - he was a news anchor.
In actuality, all he really wanted to do was clean up his own mess at home. He needed fix things with Terry and get back to their normal lives or he was going to lose it. While it was true that he'd been angry when he left, it only took two hours of watching all the other couples and three Cuervocosmotinis before he realized that he had no right to be angry. Terry was upset with him for lying and for voting for a political party that denied them the sanctity of marriage - not that he would wear his ring anyway, thank you, Tank - but what was Greg upset with him for? Throwing a scene in front of the neighborhood. That paled in comparison to lying to him for years - and about something like a political party, of all things.
In his own defense, he knew that Terry wouldn't react openly to the idea of his boyfriend being a Republican. The other had never been very political, but he wasn't completely wrong when he pointed out several of the party's faults either. Their views on gay marriage was just one of them, but it was logically important enough to Terry to be outraged. Greg tightened his fingers on the steering wheel as the memory of his response to that particular piece of information came to mind. God, what was he thinking telling his lover that he was thankful he couldn't marry him? Not only that, but right to his face.
The Log Cabin Republicans weren't like that, they supported the Equal Rights Amendment wholeheartedly and the idea of gay marriage was included in that. He tried explaining it before the cruise but it wasn't much of a surprise that Terry didn't want to listen after what he had said. His stomach now felt like he'd just eaten an entire chocolate cake and skipped a week at the gym.
Langley Falls was approaching dark by the time he pulled in beside Terry's nearly powder-blue car, his eyes briefly passing over the "CATCH-R" license plate as if he hadn't seen it in ages. The brunette cut the engine, letting his hands slide down the circle of the steering wheel and fall into his lap: an entire drive home and he hadn't come up with a single good thing to say to his boyfriend. He sighed, wishing that life had a teleprompter that he could just read off of to make things better, and slid out of the car.
He heard Terry shuffling around the kitchen before he saw him, their house lit up and casting an almost daytime glow over their living room. The familiar smell of incense was like a blanket wrapping around his brain and now he felt less exhausted and closer to a vague sense of tired. Not the type that comes from a mentally stressful day but the sort of tired that makes one want to cuddle up with their significant other and watch a movie until the plotline trailed off into strange dreams. But if he wanted that option then he had some apologizing to do, and his eyes settled guiltily on the open kitchen doorway as if the sounds were something he could see.
The blonde was pulling things from a green, environment friendly grocery bag when he came in, a few boxes already tucked under his arm and a jar of what looked to be cherries in his hand. He was wearing the lilac sweater-vest that made Greg feel bipolar at times, though the "manic" and "depressive" states were replaced with "aroused" and "calm" respectively. It was amazing how one sweater-vest could make Terry look like the quaintest image of homeliness or the sexiest man ever. Both ideas succumbed to an unpleasant feeling of remorse when the other looked up at him with slightly pink eyes and an adorable sniff that screamed he had been crying for some time. For a brief second he seemed surprised that Greg was there, which gave way to pleased - as if he was relieved the other had come home - before teetering off into anger.
When he turned away, the brunette once again felt like he'd eaten too much cake.
"Oh, well if it isn't the big, Republican man back from his cruise," he mocked. His usual lilt seemed to droop, like the notes on the staff of his voice had become so heavy that they slipped down into a minor key. "Help pass any anti-gay marriage bills on your cruise, Mr. Republican? Maybe send a few more American soldiers to their deaths?"
Greg felt anger surge in him, slinking to the tips of his fingers and boiling down his legs like the pinpricks of feeling that came after unfolding a numb limb. He wanted to defend his beliefs, what he voted for and supported against Terry's ignorant words. But the second the thought occurred to him, he realized how childish it was.
"No," he replied, half sulking into the kitchen. Heath Ledger trotted over, apparently pleased to see him and sniffing delightedly at his hands when Greg bent down to scratch behind his ears. "It was just a cruise, Terry-"
"A cruise for Republicans."
He sighed, listening to the other put things away for a few seconds and collecting his thoughts before speaking again, "I wish you would have come-"
The blonde spun quickly, as though Greg had just mused aloud that he was straight, "Like hell would I put one baby-blue loafer on your anti-gay marriage bomb vessel!"
Greg stood up, half aware of Heath Ledger sliding around him and go into the sanctuary that the living room provided. Terry occupied himself with yanking more products out of one of the bags, angrily jamming things beneath his arm despite the fact they went on opposite sides of the kitchen. He was sniffing again, though Greg couldn't tell if more tears had surfaced or if he was managing to fight them off with the rekindled fury.
"Honey, would you please just listen to me?" Greg pleaded, stepping towards him with a hand outstretched. Terry practically launched himself backwards against the kitchen sink.
"Don't you touch me!" Now that he was glaring so intently, the tears were like obvious jewels in the other's hazel eyes. They had become a sort of dull green-brown since he'd been gone, a far cry from the pleasant spring-teal they were when he left. Greg lowered his hand, unfazed by the fact that Terry had recoiled due to the fact that dramatics were a rather common occurrence with him, and nodded slowly.
"Alright, sweetheart, just calm down-"
"And stop calling me 'honey' and 'sweetheart'! How dare you, Greg!" he shouted, gripping tightly onto a box of strawberries and making the plastic creak, "After all the hateful things you said to me before running off on some cruise, how dare you come back here and pretend that we're okay?"
"I know, I know. I was stupid and I shouldn't have said any of that," he reasoned, struggling to keep his hands at his sides. He'd always fixed things with Terry by holding him, calming him down with a hug and light kisses. There were plenty of times where they had fought but not like this, not the point that Terry refused to let him hold him despite having a day apart.
"No, Greg, you don't know." His voice was breaking slightly as he set things down on the counter, freeing his hands and making their trembling more obvious. He straightened up, pressing a few fingers to his chest, "You hurt me, okay? I have never been treated so cruelly in my whole life and my father is Tank Bates."
He couldn't come up with a decent reply or stand to look into those pained eyes so he looked away again. When he was sure Terry wasn't focused on him anymore, he dared to lift them and watched the blonde continue to put groceries away. He focused in on certain movements - where Terry lightly touched his sleeve to the edges of his eyes or when he sniffed sharply through his nose - but looked away when he sensed the other's attention shifting. Though he wanted to offer his help, he knew that it wouldn't get him any further in the argument and he'd only be shot down. While it was true that he always topped in bed, their partnership was equal - he couldn't just tell Terry to get over it. Not if he wanted to continue living with the man he loved.
"…You were stupid though," Terry said softly, putting a box of sugar free cookies on a shelf almost out of his reach. Greg lifted his eyes to the back of the other's head just in time to catch his gaze as he turned and for the first time in days they shared a slight smile.
They put away the rest of the groceries in silence and folded up the bags, setting them neatly on the kitchen table. When their hands brushed, Greg's eyes slid up the other's arm and met Terry's eyes again, which hadn't completely cleared of tears or the faint echo of pain. He rested his hand on top of the other's, squeezing it softly.
"Are we going to be okay, Terry?" He had no doubt that the question would have seemed completely stupid to anyone that didn't understand them. A disagreement over politics and a few unintended, hateful words thrown out that weren't, truthfully, severe enough to end a relationship of so many years. But to him it was an almost terrifying possibility. Putting away groceries and sharing a smile didn't mean that he'd even be allowed back to bed tonight, much less fix what he had said, he didn't know if anything could.
Terry's eyes fell back to their hands, his brows furrowing, "Are you really glad that you can't marry me?"
It was strange to have the words so bare and simple before him, particularly because they had been said in Terry's saddened voice. The experience was more like a nightmare than anything, not even a nightmare that he was having. It was more like the nightmares he saw in movies, when someone had a dream about a horribly warped version of their own reality where everything was wrong. This wasn't his life. He was older than Terry, calmer and more level headed - even it wasn't by a great margin - so this wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to have everything under control, protect and cherish Terry, not snap something so devastating at him in a moment of rage. They had minor bickering fights all the time, but he'd never insinuated that he didn't care before - not like this.
"Of course not," Greg explained softly. He moved a hand up to the other's cheek, guiding his face forward so he could more accurately smudge a tear away from the edge of the blonde's eye. The look in Terry's gaze wasn't convinced and the brunette threw his attempted resistance out the window, wrapping his arms around his waist to pull him close. For a moment Terry hesitated, his hands braced lightly against Greg's upper arms as if he wanted to push away, but he soon wrapped his fingers around the other's biceps and rested against his shoulder, "I love you, honey. There's no one else in the world I would want to marry."
Terry's hands slid down his arms and once again Greg thought he was going to be guided away, but they just slid around his torso and gave him a tight squeeze. He heard the shake in the other's breath as he exhaled, nodding against his neck. They stood for a few minutes, slipping back into the comforts of holding each other before Terry pulled back. The tears had almost completely dried from his eyes, though he carefully dabbed at them with his pinky as he walked towards the living room. Even with all of this passed, Greg's stomach still felt slightly heavy with worry that rooted him to the spot. All he could do was watch the other walk away with a faint, unnerved sigh.
"Besides, I don't love you for your politics anyway," Terry spoke up, lingering in the doorway briefly. Greg recognized the pose instantly - one hand slid above his head and a hip jut out so the curve of his body was more noticeable - it was his "come and get me" stance. The weight in his stomach seemed to disappear completely just to be replaced with the familiar, much missed tension that sent a warm tingle up his spine. The other tilted his head just a bit to look over his shoulder, a glow in his eyes that seemed to illuminate the coy expression that now possessed his features, "I love you for your body, sweetheart."
Greg felt a smile crack across his features, not only for the clever little line but because it eased the lingering sense of concern.
"Come here, you." His movement forward caused Terry to giggle and run off, initiating a brief game of tag that's only purpose was to lead them upstairs to the bedroom.
Later, when they had tired each other out to the point that sleep was the only feasible option left, Greg tugged the other's still passion warmed body close. Terry's smaller frame cuddled into his side for a bedtime movie and the brunette pressed a kiss to the top of his head. How Terry had managed to ease his doubt and turn him on at the same time was the sort of trick only Terry could do - and he never wanted to risk losing that magic again.