Seeing It Through
A Sequel to Making Amends
Chapter Four, The Talk
The following morning, the sun seemed non-existent, grey storm clouds in its place. Rain had begun to fall early in the morning, and by the time Roy opened up his eyes to the world it was still raining.
Turning on his side, he decided that couches were not made for sleeping. His shoulder happened to bump with something that didn't feel like the couch's fabric at all, and that's when he remembered what happened last night. Closing his eyes against the sting of oncoming tears, he decided that crying about it anymore wouldn't help anyone, especially not himself. What was done was done, right?
He didn't look forward to talking with Mullet, because that would just mean an awkward discussion about their relationship, and broken apologies from the two of them that would possibly mean nothing in the long run.
He shook his head to ward away the fog of sleepiness, and ever so gently, he reached over and removed the arm that was draped over his narrow hip. Pausing for a moment longer than necessary, he ran the pad of his thumb over the skin on the back of Mullet's hand. He always loved how soft they were, and right now was no exception. Giving the motionless arm a quick squeeze, Roy gently disentangled himself from Mullet's side.
Mullet Fingers had always been such a heavy sleeper, Roy reminisced with a faintly amused half-smile. He watched as the dirty blonde curled into himself, hugging the throw pillow the two of them had been sharing to his chest.
He walked over to the kitchen unit, thankful that sometime during the nighttime, Mullet had redressed him into one of his favorite nightshirt-and-lounge-pants combos. Sleeping in leather probably wasn't all that comfy.
He opened up the fridge. He was thankful that he had bought the groceries a day or two earlier, because he wasn't up to going to the town market to pick up the usual and the unusual foods of their household fridge and pantry. Popping open a diet coke, he quietly pulled out a chair from the table.
He mostly stared at the small white bubbles that managed to leap up and out of the can, only drinking the soda occasionally, as he thought about life in general. A small noise alerted him that someone else was awake, which made his tongue flop down into the bottom of his stomach.
"Hey," A tired voice said, and thankfully, it wasn't Mullet's. Roy turned around with a faint attempt at a smile.
"Morning, Tommy," He said quietly. His voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, and from crying last night. Clearing his throat, he took a swig of his drink.
"Anyone else up yet?" The man asked, trudging tiredly to the refrigerator and taking out the carton of orange juice. Roy shook his head, but then realized that Tommy couldn't see the action.
"No. At least, Mullet isn't. I don't know about B."
"Nah, she's still sleeping." He turned after pouring himself a glass of the rich, golden liquid. "You gave us all quite a scare last night, you know. Especially Mullet."
"I'm sorry." Roy said quietly, a pointless apology. He looked up, tears shining in his eyes when Tommy placed a consoling hand on his shoulder.
"I didn't mean for you to apologize. In fact, it should be me who's apologizing. I should've told one of you on the phone that Brad wasn't coming last night."
"Believe me, if it's anyone's fault in this mess, it's my fault. I mean, sure, Beatrice came up with this plan to make Mullet jealous, but I agreed to do it. I kind of dug my own grave, I guess."
"Don't blame yourself, kid." Tommy said quietly, even though he was probably only two years older than Roy. He sat down in the seat across from the brunette, chugging down a good deal of his orange juice. "If you're not going to blame me or B, then I don't think you should blame anyone."
They drifted off into a comfortable silence for the rest of the hour they were alone together, sitting across from each other at the kitchen table. The pitter-patter of the drizzling outside was the only noise, sans the faint humming of the air conditioning, to be heard.
He had called in sick for both he and Mullet, once nine o'clock came and went. The other man was still in a dead sleep on the living room couch, and Tommy and Beatrice had gotten dressed and left a while ago.
"You want to come with us?" Beatrice had asked in that quiet voice of hers that she did only when she was genuinely concerned. "We're just going to the diner for some breakfast, me and Tommy."
Roy had said no, that he felt like staying in that day. Beatrice nodded in grim understanding, grabbing Tommy's hand. The pair said their goodbyes to Roy, both giving him warm, heartfelt hugs, before walking out of the apartment.
Since then, Roy had been listening to the Rascal Flatts CD Mullet had given to him for Christmas—the one his boyfriend had personally burned for him (Roy liked different songs from different albums)—playing a specific song on repeat.
"I think about the years I spent, just passing through," Roy sang quietly, busily polishing the kitchen table with the cloth in his hand. The table was clean though, the surface already shining like a mirror. Still, Roy went on polishing. He'd already finished the countertops.
"You only listen to that when you're having a bad day." A velvety voice murmured over the rich country song's chorus. Roy nearly leapt out of his skin at the sudden sound. He turned, and Mullet Fingers was there, leaning up against the small portion of wall that divided the kitchen from the living room. He was staring at Roy with a blank look on his face, dirty blonde hair ruffled from sleep and almost completely covering the man's eyes.
"G'morning." Roy said tersely, swallowing the small lump forming in his suddenly dry throat. He forgot that Mullet always slept in his boxers, nothing else. Aside from that, he was unsure of what to say, unsure of what he should do. Should he pretend like nothing happened last night; should he still be mad at Mullet? He didn't feel like he was angry with him anymore, though—it was more of a dull sadness hiding in the recesses of his mind. He opted for a useless apology. "I'm sorry for last night."
If anything, Mullet looked ashamed. "I was afraid you'd be all noble and say sorry. I guess I should know better after so long, huh?" He said, chuckling with only a small ounce of mirth as he took up one of the upholstered seats. He folded his arms on the lemon-fresh tabletop, staring silently at Roy, who continued to scrub the life out of the table's surface. Gary LeVox's melodic voice came from the stereo, breaking into the silence.
'God Bless the Broken Road' had finally come to its end, and the sound that indicated a repeat sounded through the quiet. Roy quickly reached over and tapped the 'skip' button, going to the next song. "Sorry. I know you hate it when I do that." Roy muttered, smiling faintly at Mullet.
Mullet looked at him, his two hands supporting his head on the table. "I don't hate it," He argued without being snappy, "I just hate it when you're sad is all."
"…Oh." Roy said almost silently, his mouth forming a small 'o'. Mullet raised a brow in vague beguilement as the beginning notes of 'Every Day' played out. Roy felt a faint blush staining his cheeks as he slowly turned on his heel to rinse the oily rag in his hand.
As he washed the cleaner off of his hands in the kitchen sink, furiously scrubbing at his greasy palms with lightly scented hand soap, Mullet said something. Roy turned to him, shutting off the running water as he did so. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. What?"
"I love how you always have to have socks matched and folded together in a certain way."
Roy blinked; that was unexpected. Mullet was smiling faintly at him as Roy used the hand towel to dry off his hands. "I think it's adorable how you always write out those holiday cards every year to your relatives," He said next, "And always sign it 'Best Wishes from Roy and Napoleon', when we both know I've only met your mom and pops and no one calls me Napoleon."
"What does this have to do with anything?" Roy asked, feeling himself grinning back through his blush.
"Don't interrupt, I'm trying to talk here," Mullet said caringly. He got up, the back legs of the chair scuffing slightly against the linoleum of the floor.
"I love how you go on random diets, even though you definitely don't need to, only to wind up breaking a week or so in and inhaling a chocolate bar."
Roy chuckled, gently wringing the green dishtowel in his hands. Mullet tilted his head to the side. "You're really, really sweet whenever you think I'm down; you always let me have pistachio ice cream in the living room when I have a bad day at work."
"I do?" Roy asked with wide eyes. Mullet grinned and nodded.
"I like how you go on these crazy cleaning rampages, working yourself thin on your days off until everything stinks of bleach and Febreze.
"You get this cute pout on your face whenever you try to get that strange stain out of the hallway carpet. You know, the one that's been there since we first moved in?" Roy nodded mutely, the megawatt smile on his face never diminishing.
"And at night, when there's a full moon outside and you're asleep, the light catches your face just right so that you look like some kind of angel." By now, Mullet was standing in front of Roy with an unsure look in his stance.
"Not saying that I didn't like that, but what was that all about?" Roy asked somewhat dreamily, tossing the towel onto the counter and latching onto Mullet Finger's outstretched hands.
"Remember? You wanted to know what I liked about this, about us?" He asked softly, rubbing the hands in his own. His eyes were open and radiating with emotion, gazing at Roy like he was the only thing left that was good in the world. "Well, I thought about it, and I found that there were a lot of things about you that I—mphh..."
Roy had shoved his lips against Mullet's then, kissing him like a man deprived of water, until laughter bubbled forth from Roy's mouth. Mullet separated from him, looking happy and relieved. "What, am I that bad of a kisser all of a sudden?"
"No, it's not that," Roy stammered out through a chuckle, hugging Mullet tightly to him. "I love you," He sighed, rubbing his face into the bare skin of Mullet's chest. Mullet cradled Roy to him, kissing the crown of the man's head.
"I love you too; I hope you always know that."
The radio, in the background, crooned softly: "Everyday you save my life."
"So my mom left Coconut Cove?" Mullet asked, his voice laced with merry disbelief. The sun had already set outside, the rain breaking up sometime during the afternoon. Roy was seated on Mullet's lap, relaxed as he adoringly petted Mullet's kneecap through the jeans the blonde was wearing.
"We drove by the house, just to check in on her and her hub, and the house looked completely deserted." Beatrice said with satisfaction. "But we're not sure where they went, so she's still a potential threat."
"She's always a damn threat, no matter where she is and where we happen to be." Mullet muttered, but his voice didn't hold the venom of contempt; he sounded relaxed and sated. Beatrice looked at them with a sharp eye, a mischievous grin on her face.
"I see you two made up." Was all she said, smirking as Roy turned a bright shade of pink and Mullet chuckled. Neither said anything to prove or disprove her guess.
Tommy got up from the chair he sat in, stretching. "I've got to run, or else Pete'll be wondering where I ran off to."
"Tell him I said hi, eh?" B said, smiling as she got up to see him to the door.
"'Course," The man chuckled, and the pair's voices drifted off as they made their way to the door.
"I hate fighting with you," Roy sighed, leaning back as Mullet hugged him from behind. "Promise you'll slap me around if I even start being bitchy with you?"
Mullet chuckled deeply. "How about if I tell you you're being stupid?"
"That works too." Roy laughed along with him, reaching over to pet Mullet's hair at an awkward angle. "Do you think we'll ever stop fighting?"
"No; that's how relationships work, Roy. I don't think this'll be our last fight, but I know that we'll always make up."
"Good," Roy hummed, kissing Mullet's temple as he got up. Mullet looked at him with a furrowed brow.
"Where you going?" He asked, folding his hands on his stomach and blinking with confusion.
Roy shrugged lazily, a strange twinkle in his eyes. "I'm going to bed." He moved his arms languidly upwards, stretching his body until his t-shirt rode up in the slightest. Grunting and giving a little sigh, he folded his arms behind his head. "You comin'?"
Mullet, whose eyes had been locked onto that small patch of abdominal skin showing, looked up and smirked. "I thought you'd never ask."
"Ugh, it's morning already?" Roy whimpered pathetically, shielding his eyes with the covers of the bed. Mullet, who was spooning Roy in customary fashion, gave a sleep-husky snigger.
"It's a Saturday," He said. "You have off, and so do I. Go back to bed."
"But I'm already awake," Roy said rationally, though he burrowed comfortably in the warm sheets. He sighed blissfully, content with the beautiful peace of dawn. Mullet's toes were rubbing tiny circles on the back of his ankle, his lips tenderly kissing the small bruises of love-bites decorating Roy's collarbone. "Don't think you're getting anymore," Roy warned tiredly, closing his eyes and smiling tenderly.
"'M not trying to, just…" He trailed off, at a loss for words. Roy grasped the arm wrapped around his midsection, nodding in understanding.
"Love you." He said quietly, yawning as he felt sleepiness crawl back into his bones. Mullet nuzzled his neck before replying,
"Love you too."
Author's Commentary: For a while there, it seemed like the story was going to be left as-is, but I forced myself, at three thirty in the morning no less, to write up the next chapter. Once I got the first few paragraphs out, though, the words kind of flowed from there.
I know, I know. "What happened with Walter, or the mom?" I'm going to leave it up to you and your imaginations to decide what happens with those two rascals. As far as I'm concerned, Walter's a wuss, and after he was beat up in the bar, he kind of took off after recovering from those blows Mullet dealt to him. Mullet's mom left Coconut Cove, and she never came back. Finally, Roy, Mullet, Beatrice, and Tommy all lived happily ever after!
Thanks so much to those who have kept this story in their alerts. It means a lot to me, especially when people review and favorite this story.
Hoped you liked this!
With Love, Fluff, and Glittery Stuff,
Desinere.
