"Should I say it? Should I tell you how I feel?"

[imtoofabulous]

Who: Lincoln Cole and Clint Chevalier
What: Those three four words
Where: Chevalier-Sheldon Pad
When: After THIS

There was a whole lot of sudden WTF going on at the moment. Emily had just left to do some grocery shopping because she wanted to help, and with Lorenzo still out like a light, she thought this might be a good way to help out. It was. There was no doubt about that. Even just staying there for a few days, Lincoln had noticed just how much shit a baby could go through in a short space of times. Holly went through countless diapers a day, she had formula for her meals, baby wipes, baby food, juice, and all the other stuff that seemed impossible for a tiny person to need all her on own.

Lincoln had gotten up to close and lock the door behind Emily. He indulged in a couple of moments of hesitation at the door and then went back up the hall into the living room where Clint was still lying on the sofa. He cleared his throat and was drumming his fingers nervously on his hips. This really wasn't like him. He was a fucking model for fuck's sake. He had the confidence, he was strong-willed and stubborn. It was probably why he and Clint were ultimately working. They were the same sort of people. They argued all the time, they bitched each other out whenever they felt like it, but it still worked. It worked in their way, probably no one else's idea of a way a relationship should work.

"So..." he eventually said, finding himself hovering at one end of the sofa. "That just happened."

Comments

[privateinvestigations]

"Will you just fucking sit down," Clint snapped impatiently. Lincoln hadn't at all reacted in the way he hoped, so of course he was pissed off. Even if he did have a voice that sounded suspiciously like Lorenzo's harping in his head now that he couldn't dictate how someone reacted to something like that, he still thought this was ultimately what Lincoln would want to hear. Lorenzo had asked him when he was going to say something because he had spotted it, and Clint hadn't actually been planning on saying anything at all. It just sort of hit him and he rolled with it. The timing had been shit, the situation even worse, but wasn't all the cunts around telling him that sort of shit shouldn't matter about any of that. Now he wanted to line them all up and give them all bitchslaps for this shit.

But he had no one else to blame but himself. This was why he didn't do this love shit. It was always complicated, things got fucked up and made shit awkward. He didn't fucking like awkward and he didn't like complicated. But he couldn't take it back. It was done, and now Lincoln was being weird. "Just forget it. We'll just go back to how shit was before and pretend none of this bullshit happened."

[imtoofabulous]

"Fuck that, and fuck you," Lincoln snapped back bitchily. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Just go back to making out I'm nothing but a fuck buddy and you're too epically awesome to lower yourself to anything like love. I'm mean, I'm already fucking screwed on the fact you're already married to my sister who hardly talks to me lately, so there's no point jumping on the 'Yay, marriage equality' bandwagon, is there? Why the fuck bother to say it at all if you don't mean it? Why the fuck are we doing any of this? I can get a fuck anywhere. I can get lots of fucks, in lots of places, any time I like. And you know what? If you're taking this shit back, maybe I'll just walk out right now and go find some fucks, and you can stay here in your selfish fucking pile of misery and puke all by yourself."

And he was going to walk out to. He was angry and he was hurt. It had been feeling like there was no room for him and Clint to move. Now all of a sudden, they were moving, but backwards and he was completely fucking sick of this shit. He stormed out of the living room and went to get his jacket from the room they were staying in... and shoved all his shit back into his bag and zipped it up. He came back out with it slung over his shoulder. "You can kiss my fucking arse. We're done."

[privateinvestigations]

They could both have extremely fiery tempers when they were in the right mood. Clint couldn't figure out what part here had riled Lincoln up the worst, but maybe it was the whole thing collectively. This was exactly why he had tried to palm Lorenzo off with calling him out about Lincoln. "What the fuck? What the hell do you want me to do here?" He really didn't know the answer to that question. There was only one person other than Lincoln that Clint had dated, and that was Ange forever ago. They weren't compatible with the dating thing, mainly because Clint liked fucking guys too much and couldn't go forward on the exclusive thing. It worked out fine, they wanted different things, and now they were as close friends as ever.

This was different. He knew it was different, but he just didn't know how. And he wasn't sure why the whole marriage shit was coming up. Why the hell was that coming up? Why was any of this coming up? "Wait. Just fucking stop for a minute," he said back in frustration, sitting up a little too quickly from lying and feeling like he was close to puking again. This would be so much easier if he wasn't sick. "What the fuck is all this about?"

[imtoofabulous]

"What do I want you to do? How about go fuck yourself as a start! After that, I don't fucking care," Lincoln snapped angrily. It was true, he was generally a bit of a scathing sassy bitch, but when he was hurt, he was a vicious asshole who lashed out. Mostly, because it took a lot to hurt him, so when he was hurt, there was a reason he was responding how he was. He was just so much more pissed off right now because he had been taking care of Clint while he was sick for days on end now. Not just because he had to, but because he wanted to. No, their relationship wasn't conventional, but that didn't mean he didn't want some parts of the standard relationship perks everyone seemed to value. Why the fuck didn't he matter to anyone anymore?

He was stalking around picking up the bits and pieces of his that were sitting around from their stay. "I hope you puke yourself inside out and your fucking dick drops off," he spat, shoving the last of this things into his bag. And then he stormed out and didn't come back. The only thing stopping him slamming the door in his wake was he knew it would wake Holly and Lorenzo. He wasn't that much of a prick.