RP LOG with seeuincourt | Shit hitting cooling devices
[Follows THIS, THIS and THIS]
Stuart realised it was probably a good thing that he didn't get in to see Ethan when he showed up at the high-rise office building of Williamson Kent Pharmaceuticals. Ethan was in telephone conference, unable to be interrupted because it was some multimillion dollar deal or some other shit Stuart just didn't have the tolerance to think about right at that moment. He didn't care for the moment. It didn't fucking buy everything, did it? Even though he had only been in trackpants and a t-shirt, he still managed to have the intimidating air of a copper and Ethan's PA was bordering on actually interrupting him, probably thinking something was wrong with Tom. Stuart told her not to bother, though, and instead went to the nearest pub and downed a few pints. It saved him tracking Liam down and setting off a domino effect of shit. He kept his cool as well as he could, but that didn't mean that DVD wasn't on constant replay over and over in his mind. Even the look on Tom's face when he was balls deep in Ethan's brother-in-law.
It was getting late now, almost six at night. He left his car in the undercover parking and got a cab home, knowing he could pick it up in the morning or talk Gee into getting it for him. He was angry, he couldn't deny it, but on the exterior, it would be difficult for anyone to tell anything was wrong. Stoic was probably a good way to describe the mask he was wearing. He unlocked the front door of Tom's modest house, now home to both of them and he dropped his keys onto the antique table in the foyer... apparently a gift to Tom from his grandmother and a prized possession. Stuart had never thought much about it until Tom told him about it out of the blue one day. One of the many little details they had been sharing over the time. Stuart paused and just stared at the table for a few lingering moments. He wasn't completely pissed, but he could feel the alcohol in his system dragging his mood down. He was normally a happy drunk, until he had a reason not to be.
He went into the living room, and that was where he found Tom sitting on the sofa, just one lamp on to keep the room dim. Stuart had been screening his calls all day, sans one text that simply told Tom he was busy and nothing more. Now he sauntered into the room, blue eyes silently on Tom's face and his own expression unreadable. They searched Tom's features, seeing that ill lethargy there again, albeit not as bad as it had been in the previous months. "How was work?" he asked flatly.
Tom had had his eyes closed in the dim lit area until he'd heard Stuart come home. Jules was elsewhere, as was Gus. He had half entertained the idea that maybe the two of them had stolen away to some hotel, but het sex made his head hurt and he just figured that he had the place to himself until he just didn't. Now Stuart was here, and he could feel his stomach tighten in memory of his stupid day, and Liam dropping in only to have Jess run out. He didn't even begin to know how to address the debacle with his fiance. "Exhausting. How was Gee?"
Stuart didn't say anything. He just continued to look at Tom for a few moments as he struggled not to let fly with a random bout of Scottish expletives that Tom would probably find hard to understand. Stuart got broader in his accent when he was pissed off. He just stalked over to the DVD player, and with a few rough pushing of buttons, the TV screen came to life and suddenly the room was filled with fucking noises and the wall-to-wall plasma image of Tom fucking Liam Morgan in all their glory. With a tilt of his head, Stuart watched the image for a couple of beats and then turned around piercing Tom with a glare. "Gee's wonderful. Lovely weather together, aye? Good for the Man U game," he bit out.
Tom genuinely felt like he was going to throw up. His already pounding head felt like it was going to explore and resisted the urge to just curl up into a ball and whimpering. An angry Stuart was not what he wanted. He didn't even want porn on the screen. Seeing himself up on the screen balls deep in Liam, and knowing Stuart had discovered the DVD wasn't making it any easier for him to willingly explain what had happened that afternoon. Liam wasn't even a subject they'd covered yet. He couldn't even find the energy to correct Stuart's slip. "Stuart... please, can you turn it off?" The words were choked out, and Tom covered his hands with his eyes to block out the brightness of the screen.
"Nay, I quite like it. You and Ethan could have it as a lovely wee promotional video for your companies. Keep it all in the family," Stuart threw back, unable to stop the small sneer on his lips at the final word. He paced back and forth in front of the TV, but despite his words, really couldn't bring himself to look directly at it. There was heavy snogging, and Liam riding Tom like there was no tomorrow. Whoever the fuck invented theatre-sized TVs for home, Stuart wanted to suddenly pound them into a bloody mess. "Some say a lawyer and a copper together is hilarious. I say a lawyer and a fucking hairdresser takes the cake."
"Shut up," Tom growled viciously as he dragged himself up to his feet. He glared at Stuart, the pain coupled with the sudden guilt he felt over doing absolutely nothing wrong pushing him to the edge. He moved past Stuart and turned off the TV himself, then ejected the DVD and threw it at the wall opposite. "This is my fucking past, love. My past. History. He was before I met you, and you know what? Yes, he's Ethan's fucking brother-in-law, but he wasn't then. Liam is a friend. Platonic friend. It all ceased as soon as I met you. He's also not just a hairdresser, he's a medical student. Yes, I didn't fucking tell you but if you haven't noticed, there's been a few other things to cover apart from exes and a blow by blow of my sexual history."
"A fucking medical student!" Stuart exploded in reaction to being yelled at, leaning forward into Tom's personal space as he pointed furiously at the TV screen. "What was that?! Fucking research?! Sexual history?! Sexual fucking history?! That's Ethan's fucking brother-in-law! Twenty two fucking years old! He really looks like a wonderful friend! Very fucking accommodating! What do you do in your spare time?! Make fucking friendship bracelets at orgies and bond over stories about how his big sister married your fucking best friend?! Blow by blow? Nice choice of words, love," he added cutting the last word off sharply.
"Oh, this is really what you're going to get your fucking knickers in a twist about? I have a driver who turns into a fucking murderer because of an ex, and you explode over this? You know he's in there too, don't you?" Tom asked as he pointed to the unit under the DVD player. "But you know what? I don't actually watch these. I haven't watched them since we met. There has been a lot of shit I haven't done since since we met. If you want to throw it all out, fucking throw it all out. I don't care. Ethan wasn't happy about this when he first found out, but he gets that I still talk to Liam. You know, that thing that friends actually do? He's young, I get it. But you know what? You're only four years older than him. We going to have an argument about that, too?"
The words about the murder hit Stuart with such a force it felt like Tom had just thumped him in the stomach. For a few moments, he just stared at Tom, dumbfounded and completely lost for words. Then to hear Ethan knew. Gee had been incorrect in her deduction it was a secret. It had placated Stuart slightly at the time, but now it felt like the floor was ripped out from under him again. If Ethan knew, Sophie must know too. The whole fucking Morgan family probably did. The booze was filtering through his brain and making it hard for him to think rationally. At twenty two, Stuart was still rocking up to his mum's place to get his washing done in his early days as a rookie. He was still running to his big brothers every time something went wrong. His eyes flicked to the screen and it just made him feel sick, despite it being blank. His mind was still wanting to replay those images. Tom really had no idea how much or why this was cutting Stuart so deeply, and after everything, sticking by his side with the whole accident and everything surrounding it, Stuart just suddenly felt exhausted... and very alone. He took a couple of steps back away from Tom reflexively, realising now there was a space of time that had lapsed where he had said nothing in return. The anger was back, though, and he grabbed the other DVDs from earlier he had left on the mantel and threw them hard against the wall beside Tom. "Have a fucking medal for all your sacrifices!" he finally spat and backed away, shaking his head. "I'm going to Iain's."
Tom didn't even flinch when Stuart threw the DVDs. All he could see was red. He could even feel the tears of frustration building up. He was frustrated with the words coming out of his mouth, and he was frustrated with his inability to get Stuart to understand that his past was his past. Liam wasn't a factor. How could he be? He always had just been a friend. He'd just been a friend with benefits for a little while. "Then just fucking go," he hissed out.
Stuart was already on his way out of the room, knowing if he stayed and tried to fight this out, he would say something he regretted. It would end terribly. He snatched up his keys again as he passed and the anger just prevented him from avoiding slamming the front door when he left. It was loud and half the street probably heard it, but as soon as he stumbled down the steps and made it to the front walk, he stopped, a strange about-face in emotions hitting him like a tonne of bricks. He put his hand up over his face with a sob, tears spilling over before he could stop them. He had no idea what really all just happened or what was underlying everything. He just knew it hurt, and probably hit him harder than any physical blow could.
As the door slammed shut, Tom was left panting by the TV before he made his way back to the sofa and sunk down onto it. His hand automatically reached out for the phone on the end table next to the sofa. He stared at it as he contemplated calling Stuart's mobile, but he didn't even know what he'd say. He didn't fully understand what he would be apologising for, and he sure as shit didn't understand what the fuck had just happened. Without giving it further thought he just dialled Ethan's number in the hopes that his best friend would pick up because his place felt a lot emptier than it had done even before Stuart had come home.
Word Count | 1,990
Stuart realised it was probably a good thing that he didn't get in to see Ethan when he showed up at the high-rise office building of Williamson Kent Pharmaceuticals. Ethan was in telephone conference, unable to be interrupted because it was some multimillion dollar deal or some other shit Stuart just didn't have the tolerance to think about right at that moment. He didn't care for the moment. It didn't fucking buy everything, did it? Even though he had only been in trackpants and a t-shirt, he still managed to have the intimidating air of a copper and Ethan's PA was bordering on actually interrupting him, probably thinking something was wrong with Tom. Stuart told her not to bother, though, and instead went to the nearest pub and downed a few pints. It saved him tracking Liam down and setting off a domino effect of shit. He kept his cool as well as he could, but that didn't mean that DVD wasn't on constant replay over and over in his mind. Even the look on Tom's face when he was balls deep in Ethan's brother-in-law.
It was getting late now, almost six at night. He left his car in the undercover parking and got a cab home, knowing he could pick it up in the morning or talk Gee into getting it for him. He was angry, he couldn't deny it, but on the exterior, it would be difficult for anyone to tell anything was wrong. Stoic was probably a good way to describe the mask he was wearing. He unlocked the front door of Tom's modest house, now home to both of them and he dropped his keys onto the antique table in the foyer... apparently a gift to Tom from his grandmother and a prized possession. Stuart had never thought much about it until Tom told him about it out of the blue one day. One of the many little details they had been sharing over the time. Stuart paused and just stared at the table for a few lingering moments. He wasn't completely pissed, but he could feel the alcohol in his system dragging his mood down. He was normally a happy drunk, until he had a reason not to be.
He went into the living room, and that was where he found Tom sitting on the sofa, just one lamp on to keep the room dim. Stuart had been screening his calls all day, sans one text that simply told Tom he was busy and nothing more. Now he sauntered into the room, blue eyes silently on Tom's face and his own expression unreadable. They searched Tom's features, seeing that ill lethargy there again, albeit not as bad as it had been in the previous months. "How was work?" he asked flatly.
Tom had had his eyes closed in the dim lit area until he'd heard Stuart come home. Jules was elsewhere, as was Gus. He had half entertained the idea that maybe the two of them had stolen away to some hotel, but het sex made his head hurt and he just figured that he had the place to himself until he just didn't. Now Stuart was here, and he could feel his stomach tighten in memory of his stupid day, and Liam dropping in only to have Jess run out. He didn't even begin to know how to address the debacle with his fiance. "Exhausting. How was Gee?"
Stuart didn't say anything. He just continued to look at Tom for a few moments as he struggled not to let fly with a random bout of Scottish expletives that Tom would probably find hard to understand. Stuart got broader in his accent when he was pissed off. He just stalked over to the DVD player, and with a few rough pushing of buttons, the TV screen came to life and suddenly the room was filled with fucking noises and the wall-to-wall plasma image of Tom fucking Liam Morgan in all their glory. With a tilt of his head, Stuart watched the image for a couple of beats and then turned around piercing Tom with a glare. "Gee's wonderful. Lovely weather together, aye? Good for the Man U game," he bit out.
Tom genuinely felt like he was going to throw up. His already pounding head felt like it was going to explore and resisted the urge to just curl up into a ball and whimpering. An angry Stuart was not what he wanted. He didn't even want porn on the screen. Seeing himself up on the screen balls deep in Liam, and knowing Stuart had discovered the DVD wasn't making it any easier for him to willingly explain what had happened that afternoon. Liam wasn't even a subject they'd covered yet. He couldn't even find the energy to correct Stuart's slip. "Stuart... please, can you turn it off?" The words were choked out, and Tom covered his hands with his eyes to block out the brightness of the screen.
"Nay, I quite like it. You and Ethan could have it as a lovely wee promotional video for your companies. Keep it all in the family," Stuart threw back, unable to stop the small sneer on his lips at the final word. He paced back and forth in front of the TV, but despite his words, really couldn't bring himself to look directly at it. There was heavy snogging, and Liam riding Tom like there was no tomorrow. Whoever the fuck invented theatre-sized TVs for home, Stuart wanted to suddenly pound them into a bloody mess. "Some say a lawyer and a copper together is hilarious. I say a lawyer and a fucking hairdresser takes the cake."
"Shut up," Tom growled viciously as he dragged himself up to his feet. He glared at Stuart, the pain coupled with the sudden guilt he felt over doing absolutely nothing wrong pushing him to the edge. He moved past Stuart and turned off the TV himself, then ejected the DVD and threw it at the wall opposite. "This is my fucking past, love. My past. History. He was before I met you, and you know what? Yes, he's Ethan's fucking brother-in-law, but he wasn't then. Liam is a friend. Platonic friend. It all ceased as soon as I met you. He's also not just a hairdresser, he's a medical student. Yes, I didn't fucking tell you but if you haven't noticed, there's been a few other things to cover apart from exes and a blow by blow of my sexual history."
"A fucking medical student!" Stuart exploded in reaction to being yelled at, leaning forward into Tom's personal space as he pointed furiously at the TV screen. "What was that?! Fucking research?! Sexual history?! Sexual fucking history?! That's Ethan's fucking brother-in-law! Twenty two fucking years old! He really looks like a wonderful friend! Very fucking accommodating! What do you do in your spare time?! Make fucking friendship bracelets at orgies and bond over stories about how his big sister married your fucking best friend?! Blow by blow? Nice choice of words, love," he added cutting the last word off sharply.
"Oh, this is really what you're going to get your fucking knickers in a twist about? I have a driver who turns into a fucking murderer because of an ex, and you explode over this? You know he's in there too, don't you?" Tom asked as he pointed to the unit under the DVD player. "But you know what? I don't actually watch these. I haven't watched them since we met. There has been a lot of shit I haven't done since since we met. If you want to throw it all out, fucking throw it all out. I don't care. Ethan wasn't happy about this when he first found out, but he gets that I still talk to Liam. You know, that thing that friends actually do? He's young, I get it. But you know what? You're only four years older than him. We going to have an argument about that, too?"
The words about the murder hit Stuart with such a force it felt like Tom had just thumped him in the stomach. For a few moments, he just stared at Tom, dumbfounded and completely lost for words. Then to hear Ethan knew. Gee had been incorrect in her deduction it was a secret. It had placated Stuart slightly at the time, but now it felt like the floor was ripped out from under him again. If Ethan knew, Sophie must know too. The whole fucking Morgan family probably did. The booze was filtering through his brain and making it hard for him to think rationally. At twenty two, Stuart was still rocking up to his mum's place to get his washing done in his early days as a rookie. He was still running to his big brothers every time something went wrong. His eyes flicked to the screen and it just made him feel sick, despite it being blank. His mind was still wanting to replay those images. Tom really had no idea how much or why this was cutting Stuart so deeply, and after everything, sticking by his side with the whole accident and everything surrounding it, Stuart just suddenly felt exhausted... and very alone. He took a couple of steps back away from Tom reflexively, realising now there was a space of time that had lapsed where he had said nothing in return. The anger was back, though, and he grabbed the other DVDs from earlier he had left on the mantel and threw them hard against the wall beside Tom. "Have a fucking medal for all your sacrifices!" he finally spat and backed away, shaking his head. "I'm going to Iain's."
Tom didn't even flinch when Stuart threw the DVDs. All he could see was red. He could even feel the tears of frustration building up. He was frustrated with the words coming out of his mouth, and he was frustrated with his inability to get Stuart to understand that his past was his past. Liam wasn't a factor. How could he be? He always had just been a friend. He'd just been a friend with benefits for a little while. "Then just fucking go," he hissed out.
Stuart was already on his way out of the room, knowing if he stayed and tried to fight this out, he would say something he regretted. It would end terribly. He snatched up his keys again as he passed and the anger just prevented him from avoiding slamming the front door when he left. It was loud and half the street probably heard it, but as soon as he stumbled down the steps and made it to the front walk, he stopped, a strange about-face in emotions hitting him like a tonne of bricks. He put his hand up over his face with a sob, tears spilling over before he could stop them. He had no idea what really all just happened or what was underlying everything. He just knew it hurt, and probably hit him harder than any physical blow could.
As the door slammed shut, Tom was left panting by the TV before he made his way back to the sofa and sunk down onto it. His hand automatically reached out for the phone on the end table next to the sofa. He stared at it as he contemplated calling Stuart's mobile, but he didn't even know what he'd say. He didn't fully understand what he would be apologising for, and he sure as shit didn't understand what the fuck had just happened. Without giving it further thought he just dialled Ethan's number in the hopes that his best friend would pick up because his place felt a lot emptier than it had done even before Stuart had come home.
Word Count | 1,990