Brock's ears were ringing and he couldn't quite concentrate on anything as Brian broke down into another round of deep sobs. Was this really happening right now? Or had he been dreaming? It was only four in the morning, he could still be asleep, couldn't he? No... This was real, this was his life. He had to face it, whether he wanted to or not. His face was hot, and he was oh so desperately trying to cling to the reality of just what exactly, the younger man beside him had said. "What?" The lone word left his lips and lingered in the dark night air of the kitchen. It felt as though this moment was in slow motion; it couldn't be real, could it? Could it?

Brian sat up, eyes still redder than Brock had ever seen them. This was it, the moment he'd been fearing all fucking day. Hell, the moment he'd been fearing since he and Brock began this god forsaken relationship. He grabbed Brock's hands, gripping them tightly even though his own were wet and clammy from the tears he was shedding, as well as the nerves lingering in his being. "Please," He got out, barely even able to look at the older man sitting beside him. "Please Brocky, if you love me, please don't make me say it again." His voice was strained, hoarse from crying.

Brock found his eyes watering as well as he squeezed the Irishman's hands in return. "I don't understand..." He trailed off. "I thought we were okay? What's going on?" He was confused, he wasn't sure what was happening, but if there was one thing he did know? It was that Brian's parents were behind this whole thing. It was their fault. Brock knew that the younger man sitting beside him had no intention of breaking things off. They were in love... They wanted to live together. This whole end of the relationship thing had sprung up out of nowhere, and had been a result of the visit to Dublin. "Bri, talk to me, please." Brock tried to keep his breaths even, trying to hold himself together for Brian; because the Irishman was breaking, and the scene was too much for Brock to bear.

After a few moments of silence, Brian was finally able to regain his composure and sit up to look his soon to be ex boyfriend in the eyes. They were both tired, they were both bloodshot and red; both empty. Blue met brown, and a sigh escaped the younger man's lips. "I'm getting married." His voice was so shaky, quiet, and he knew he didn't sound like himself. "And as you can probably guess... It's not-" He had to stop himself to take a deep breath. "It's not to you." The air was thick, and it was so quiet, the only thing that could be heard was the hesitant breathing coming from both men.

"What?" The older man's voice cracked. "To her?" He was referring to Brian's ex, the one that caused them so much trouble in the first place... Well, it wasn't really her, it was his parents that were ultimately at fault.

Brian nodded, "Yeah..." He couldn't look his boyfriend in the eyes anymore, so he let his head dip low again. "That's what my parents wanted to talk to me about... It's them. Fuck, Brock... It's always them. They don't want me to be with you," He let out a weird chuckle, one that didn't fit right with the intensity of the moment. "They don't want their son to be gay." His heart was able to vault out of his chest at any given moment. He hated this, he hated this so goddamn much. "And, and that's why we have to break up." Silence lingered afterward, after he finished, and Brock just tried to wrap his mind around what the Irishman had just said. He couldn't. It was stupid, it was so unfair, and he was simply at a lack of words. "Go ahead," Brian interrupted his headspace, finally looking up at him again. "Tell me what you're feeling, it's all my fault again... I can't even give you a normal fucking relationship... All I do is break promises. You deserve better anyway." He was rambling and somehow, it triggered something in Brock.

"Deserve better?" He inquired. "Brian, I deserve you, I want you." His eyes began to water again. "I want to be happy with you, the man I love."

Brian stood up, unable to sit any longer. His mind was racing, his heart was pounding as he began to pace the floor. "Well obviously we are never gonna get that... Can't you see Brock?" He ran a hand through his messy hair, frustrated. "Every time we find happiness, something takes it away! But you... You, Brocky, you can go be happy. Go be happy with someone else." He couldn't believe he was actually saying this right now, but what other choice did he have? His parents made it clear that he had to leave Brock, his parents made it clear that he was getting married to his ex girlfriend, and now? Now everything was getting too out of control, too much to have to deal with. He and Brock were fighting, and this was something that he never wanted to have to do.

The older man shook his head again. "I'm happy with you." He took a deep breath before the tears leaked through his eyes and down his cheeks. "You don't have to do this, Brian. You don't have to let your parents control you; you shouldn't have to choose. I'm without my parents and I'm fine." He stood too, placing a hand on the younger man's back. "You don't have to marry her. Brian, just think it over." Brock's voice was practically begging now.

"My parents are not your parents..." He trailed off, "And you know how they are Brock, I can't go against them. I just can't." It was something he'd never done before, and something he didn't want to get into the habit of doing. His relationship with his mother and father had always been complex, and he didn't expect Brock to understand that, hell, he didn't expect anyone to. It was and would always be, a complete and utter shit show. He should have known that this is what it was going to come down to; once and for all, he should have known that he was never going to get what he wanted. He was never going to get to be happy.

"I thought you loved me?" Brock's voice cut him from his thoughts, and it was a low blow that made his heart ache in his chest, and it hurt him to breathe at that moment. They were dangerously close to each other in that dark kitchen, so he reached out to grab him; his hurting, vulnerable Brock. Deep in his heart of hearts, he knew that there was no other easy way to have gone about this situation.

"Fuck Brock..." Brian shook his head, closing his eyes and tightening his grip around the older man. "I do... I love you so much." He hesitated before his next bout of words left his lips. "Maybe we can still try to see each other?" He hadn't thought it through, but it was a horrible idea, and as soon as he said it, he wished he could have taken it back.

Brock pulled away from his boyfriend, a scoff leaving his lips as he walked away. "Yeah, because that worked so well at the beginning, didn't it?" Their words were becoming bitter, harsh, aggressive, but neither of them blamed the other. Brock sighed, "I'm sorry Brian, but I just don't want to do all that again... I don't want to play games. I want all of you or none of you, and by the looks of how things are going, it's going to be none of you." He reached to wipe his tears away.

"I wish it didn't have to be this way..."

"Me too." It was quiet again in the kitchen, quiet between the two men, and quiet in the world at that moment in time. After everything they had been through in the span of their short relationship, it was all finally, inevitably coming to an end. And it was not a good ending, in fact, it was anything but. Albeit they hadn't been together for that long, both men knew that their love was not measured by the amount of time they spent with one another. Brock turned around, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably as he faced Brian again. He had no more tears left, and neither did the younger man. "You should probably go then." It ripped his chest open to be saying those words in this context when he thought he'd never have to say them. And it was so awkward when it shouldn't have been in even the slightest way.

Brian nodded, his eyes downcast still. "Can I have a goodbye kiss?" But Brock didn't answer him; instead, he crossed the floor and closed the space between them as he wrapped his arms around the Irishman and pulled him close. Their lips met, gently, softly, and it was bittersweet. They cried for the umpteenth time during that conversation, and after this kiss was over, they lingered... Forehead against forehead and breath fanning over their faces. "I love you." Brian whispered. "I love you." He kissed him once more, and goddamn he didn't want to go.

"I know." Brock nodded, finally letting the man he loved go.

He watched as he headed to the door, grabbing the suitcase he never unpacked when they arrived back home from Ireland. The pooling in his belly didn't stop, the anxiety didn't stop. This was it... This was the end. And Brian's hand lingered on the doorknob as he turned around to say one more thing to his now ex boyfriend. "Will you be my best man at the wedding?" In that moment, Brock broke for the final time that night. A sob emerged from him, it was a sound that resonated deep within his chest, and nothing could compare to the imminent sadness he was feeling right now. After everything they had been through, how could Brian possibly ask that question?

He merely shook his head, "I can't."

Brian nodded, the awkwardness surfacing in the air. "Right... I'm sorry."

"I know." Brock whispered for the last time before watching Brian walk out the front door at five in the morning.