[ He hadn't meant to make it sound quite so accusatory as it had come out. It wasn't Ray's fault that he had a thing for him, right? And as he pointed out they were buddies, they spent a lot of time together, and Ray loved him only as a friend. That made sense, he thought.
Mostly. He still got weird best-friends-forever vibes from him, like there was more to it than just buddies: unsurprising, considering they were apparently partners. But the mouthrubbing and the thrust to his chest really were quite clear: there was nothing going on here. At least not from Ray's side. And if that were true then he hadn't done anything to make him feel like something was going on, had done nothing to trigger this whole memory loss thing inadvertently. It had to be something else.
Maybe getting drunk had set him off. He was a very unpleasant drunk--or was that just in his head? He got melancholy. He might have allowed those feelings to surface and envelope him, even if they were quite unreasonable (which they obviously were), and if he could remember who he was then he would probably be appalled with himself for bringing it up, for even trying it. Kissing his straight best friend. Oh yes, Geoffrey Tennant or Benton Fraser--he was a damned genius.
Geoffrey wrapped his arms around himself, wrapped them very high and hard around his biceps and squeezed. ]
Just...just forget I said anything. I wouldn't want anything to ruin our friendship.
[ And if he sounded a little resentful it wasn't his fault. He seemed indecisive about where he was going and what he was doing. He hovered back, looking between Ray and the door, and then it seemed he made his decision, and he was off across the room a moment later, moving purposefully.
But he froze in the doorway; froze and then span, and his left cheek and eye twitched. His arms had swung down and gripped the frame of the door, but now they came back up protectively. ]
I don't know how to fix this. I don't know what to say that won't make this--this whole thing--more awkward than it already is.
[ He needed to be stopped. He was going off the rails, and who could blame him? His entire life was a lie. He turned ninety degrees, facing the doorframe, and scowled at it. ]
Okay fine, I can't leave. I don't have any shoes.
[ And he dropped his head against the doorframe, and lay it there, and said: ] Ow.
no subject
Mostly. He still got weird best-friends-forever vibes from him, like there was more to it than just buddies: unsurprising, considering they were apparently partners. But the mouthrubbing and the thrust to his chest really were quite clear: there was nothing going on here. At least not from Ray's side. And if that were true then he hadn't done anything to make him feel like something was going on, had done nothing to trigger this whole memory loss thing inadvertently. It had to be something else.
Maybe getting drunk had set him off. He was a very unpleasant drunk--or was that just in his head? He got melancholy. He might have allowed those feelings to surface and envelope him, even if they were quite unreasonable (which they obviously were), and if he could remember who he was then he would probably be appalled with himself for bringing it up, for even trying it. Kissing his straight best friend. Oh yes, Geoffrey Tennant or Benton Fraser--he was a damned genius.
Geoffrey wrapped his arms around himself, wrapped them very high and hard around his biceps and squeezed. ]
Just...just forget I said anything. I wouldn't want anything to ruin our friendship.
[ And if he sounded a little resentful it wasn't his fault. He seemed indecisive about where he was going and what he was doing. He hovered back, looking between Ray and the door, and then it seemed he made his decision, and he was off across the room a moment later, moving purposefully.
But he froze in the doorway; froze and then span, and his left cheek and eye twitched. His arms had swung down and gripped the frame of the door, but now they came back up protectively. ]
I don't know how to fix this. I don't know what to say that won't make this--this whole thing--more awkward than it already is.
[ He needed to be stopped. He was going off the rails, and who could blame him? His entire life was a lie. He turned ninety degrees, facing the doorframe, and scowled at it. ]
Okay fine, I can't leave. I don't have any shoes.
[ And he dropped his head against the doorframe, and lay it there, and said: ] Ow.