Acquired Tastes

Chapter Eighteen

Neil lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, for a long time, unable to sleep. He hated everything that had just happened, but more than that, hated how hurt he felt by it when he maybe had no right to be. And even if he did have some right to be, how had he put himself in a situation to allow Roman to hurt him in any way?

Finally, he rolled over onto his side, angry that he was still awake. He tried to slow his breathing, begging his mind to turn off, but it kept spinning. His eyes popped open, against his will, when it hit him that perhaps, more than the Alexis part itself, he was pissed that Roman would usually do just about anything with anyone...but not him. And how pathetic that he was so often finding himself waking up and immediately thinking of Roman, that he found himself waiting to see him throughout the day, that he always felt so seen whenever he told Roman something he'd never said out loud before, that no punch or scrape or grab in a fight could leave his skin feeling anything remotely as intense as the lightning he felt when Roman touched him briefly, in that way that he knew meant nothing to Roman but left his knees weak. How pathetic that he'd allowed his feelings for Roman to go so unchecked, for so long.

Before he knew he was going to, he was getting to his feet, grabbing a hoodie, shoving his feet into his boots, and striding out the door. He jogged up the stairs, the hundreds of emotions taking his mind off the soreness in his legs as he did so. He shoved the door open and crossed the roof with long strides, making his way over to where Roman was lying on the low wall, one knee up, one leg over the side, arms crossed on his chest, cigarette between his lips. He barely moved as Neil appeared beside him.

"Okay," Neil said, pushing himself up onto the wall in front of Roman's feet. "I think I want to yell at you. If that's okay."

"Yeah," Roman said, voice flat. He didn't move.

"I know it's not really any of my business, but I think it's kind of shitty that you slept with him again after everything that happened the last time. After making such a big deal to me about how it wasn't your fault because you didn't know I knew him."

Roman didn't look over at him, just continued to stare up at the sky, smoke escaping his lips around the cigarette. "Yeah."

Neil hesitated a moment, eyeing him, a little put off by Roman's lack of emotion or words or even defensiveness. "I mean, obviously you can do what you want, but I felt like we were getting along better, and I think it's kind of shitty that I guess none of that was real. Are you listening to me? And I think it's kind of fucked that you were going to lie to me about it. Has it already been happening? Have you been sleeping with him this whole time?"

Roman glanced down at him through half-closed eyes, slowly lifting his hand to take the cigarette out from between his lips. "No."

Neil was growing increasingly irritated with Roman's refusal to engage. "Come on, Parker, look at me, you said we could talk about this."

Roman was quiet for a long time, before finally pushing himself up into a sitting position, one leg still over the side of the roof, the other foot tucked beneath that knee. "That's not what I said at all."

The question came out before Neil could stop it. "Is there anyone you won't fucking sleep with?"

Roman met his eyes through red, half-closed ones, and stuck his cigarette back between his lips. "Careful, Martin, your religious slut-shaming bigotry is showing."

Neil's stomach twisted violently, anger rising in his throat. "Fuck all the way off, Parker, you know that's a shitty thing to say to me."

Roman gazed down his nose at Neil, head hung back exhaustedly. He let a puff of smoke escape around the cigarette.