I shouldn't have stayed in Mineral Town. I'll wake up tomorrow and Anne will chirp at me and maybe by then I'll have changed my mind again, but for now - I know I shouldn't have stayed in Mineral Town.
It's not that I don't like its size and crave to escape this isolation. It's not that I don't like my job and aspire to do something worthwhile, and it's not that I don't like all the residents, who've never been anything but welcoming. It's that my fucking roommate is getting married to that pansy-ass librarian and he's never going to look my way again. And I do not want to be in this town when they all prance off to the Church to celebrate their charmingly 'virtuous' relationship.
The worst part is that I can't bring myself to hate Mary for taking him from me. Even I'll admit she's adorable, and she has that way about her that simply calls out to the brooding, intricate male: 'I'm lovely and intelligent and I'll do my best to save you from all your demons'! You know, with all her books on plants. Unfortunately, I find I fall under a similar stereotype to Gray, so to my dismay, whenever I'm around her I'm swept up in her charm just as he is. I'll rephrase - not exactly as he is, because I'm not about to pick up and marry her, but I'm not as immune to her manner as I'd like to be.
Gray rolls over in his sleep and inadvertently elbows me. Like always, I convince myself this will be the last time I'm in his bed, and that I'll never have to deal with the agitating subconscious flailing of his limbs again. Somehow it never ends up reassuring me - I'd be fine even if he had restless leg syndrome, if I only I could put some sort of trust our bond. But Gray is RLS free and in the morning he'll go to work before I wake up, he'll eat lunch with his fiancée while I talk to Duke, then he'll get back to the room and I'll be back in this position again, physically satisfied and an emotional wreck.
I wish he'd just dump the bitch. That was mean, but honestly. It's not fair. I've loved him since before she even had a crush. Rightfully, he should be getting married to me… Okay, maybe that's bullshit, but my point is, he shouldn't be marrying her. Or maybe he should be, but he shouldn't be marrying her and still fucking me every other night. I suppose I'm not really preventing that from happening very efficiently though, am I? In fact, it was me who 'forgot' to take a towel into the shower with me a couple hours ago. It wasn't exactly one of my more subtle seductions.
We need to make this stop if he wants her, which, regardless of how much it hurts me, I know he does. But I don't want to stop it. I still cling to some childish reverie that maybe if I resign myself to him that one more time he'll suddenly snap out of his heterosexual trance. However unlikely that is, I need it to happen, and if he'll keep getting off on me, I'll keep praying it'll be this time. It never is. I don't know why he hasn't stopped though. When he first started doing Mary, I presumed it experimental and promised myself that it was a side effect of how deeply he craved sex. After all, who doesn't? But then he actually went and fucking committed himself to her, and I realised that whatever we might have isn't what he wants. Even after that, he let me keep drawing this out, stringing me along through his body and denying me the closure I need. And I wish I could hate him for that. But I don't hate him any more than I hate Mary.
We're close friends. If you completely erase sex from the equation, we have what many would call a quintessential bromance. We talk about life, our pasts, women, and periodically dip into the absurdity of the town's gossip pool. We never ever discuss Mary though - because she isn't any woman. She's beyond the 'what a hot piece of ass' commentary our gender is so prone to, and I can't make myself vulnerable enough to ask him about his honest evaluation of her. I know whatever he says, I'll come up short in contrast. So instead we exchange heated glances and succumb to what is now the norm.
The first time we fucked we were drunk, but it progressed to something that happened whenever one of us was horny… or upset, or pissed off, or happy, or whenever. I know his body as well as I know mine. I know his rhythm so well that I've adopted it. I know exactly what turns him on. I know exactly where to touch and I know exactly what to say. I won't lie - it would be kind of offensive to my pride if I found out Mary was better in the sack than I am. She can't be though - she's the virginal (ex-virginal) librarian. I'm not sure what being a librarian has to do with her sexual prowess, but I'll pretend it's evidence to support my case.
Rolling over to face Gray's softly stirring form, I sigh. It doesn't really matter how good she is in bed. Within the year, she'll be the only one in his bed, so there won't be a comparison to be drawn. I don't want to imagine the weight I'll have to drag around in my chest after our fuck buddy relationship has been disestablished. I really won't have anything to sustain my fantasies then, will I?
"Cliff, go to sleep. Whatever you're fretting about, stop it." Gray looks at me with mussed hair and groggy eyes, not lifting his head from the pillow.
"Yeah, I really should get some rest." I passively concur.
"Exactly." He blinks and struggles to reopen his eyes. "Go to sleep, and g'night."
I really should bid this all a good night. We'll never be a couple. Not once in these four years has he ever suggested we're destined to be more than a jolly pair of sexually progressive men. We've fucked like animals, yeah, but I need to etch this truth into my brain - that fact doesn't mean anything. I need to end this, if only to preserve my capacity for that grand cliché that is 'true love.'
At least I get to be his best man.
AN: So I read a very fluffy CliffxGray fic and felt kind of duped. It had that 'OMGZ MARY HIT ON ME I HATE HER NOW CLIFF LET'S RUN AWAY TOGETHER' thing. I couldn't really deal with it because I just found it unrealistic. (And uncharacteristic.) Relationships aren't necessarily all rainbows and ponies and exclusivity. So I wrote a not very exclusive rainbows and ponies relationship for them instead. Because even nice people can be fucked in the head.