I obviously don't h-- Archie, you have to know I don't hate it.
[ Reggie clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes slightly, glancing away in frustration for a moment before he slowly raises his eyes back to meet Archie's. The problem is he doesn't know what he wants, not really; for Reggie's it's always been more abstract than that. He'd never bothered thinking through something like wanting Archie too deeply, because even that at its most vague had always seemed too unrealistic to expect.
And even now with things having changed, it's still hard for him to break that habit. It makes him feel uneasy trying to put a name to what's been going on, and the worst part is that Reggie hasn't even wanted to try and work out why it makes him so uneasy.
So, even knowing -- or at least suspecting -- the general vein of what Archie's asking him now, Reggie answers with: ]
You already know what I want. I thought maybe we could finally bang or something. [ Gesturing with his hands, palms up like a shrug of defeat. ] But since you're obviously in a mood...
[Archie's shoulders go stiff and he finally pulls away. It's not like he doesn't want to bang (obviously. Obviously,) he just, he can't do just that. And if that's all that Reggie wants... it wouldn't be fair to either of them if he just went ahead anyway, would it?
Plus it kinda, you know, smarts. Because while Reggie has said plenty of contradictory stuff in the past couple minutes, it's Archie so of course he's latching onto the worst implications. Maybe that means he is in a mood.]
Yeah. [He crosses his arms. He has never actively turned down sex before? He feels weird, and stupid, and sorta like he just wants to go lay down on his face in bed until morning when he can pretend none of this talk happened. Maybe he shouldn't have turned down the idea of getting drunk.] I guess I am.
[ Reggie isn't as dumb as most people think he is, but it also doesn't take any kind of genius -- socially or otherwise -- to decipher what's happening here, which is that his plan to keep his feelings for Archie at a distance even as they've been fooling around is backfiring catastrophically. He just stands there, hands hanging loosely clenched at his sides and mouth slightly open as if he already has a retort or objection ready, but he has nothing that he's ready to say.
Which, it's important to note, is quite different than not knowing what he could say, because Reggie can think of several options to that effect; I don't really know how to talk about it, or, This was easier when I figured I had no shot with you, or I like you a lot and maybe it's weird to say, but how the hell has that not been clear enough already?
Or even just Sorry, I'm an idiot.
But he can't say any of that, obviously he can't, so Reggie clenches his jaw, tense and frustrated, leaning his arm on the doorjam as if in thought. ]
Well. [ His lips press briefly into a tighter line, and he rubs his palm over his mouth. ] Whatever. You know where to find me if you change your mind, gloomy roomie.
[ At which point Reggie moves back from the door so he can continue down the hallway to his own room, also feeling weird and stupid, and numb, and vaguely sick. This has got to be solvable-- every problem is, always, but at the moment Reggie has no idea where to even start. Right now the only solution seems to be space, but the rest will have to get figured out eventually. Or maybe it won't. ]
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[ Reggie clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes slightly, glancing away in frustration for a moment before he slowly raises his eyes back to meet Archie's. The problem is he doesn't know what he wants, not really; for Reggie's it's always been more abstract than that. He'd never bothered thinking through something like wanting Archie too deeply, because even that at its most vague had always seemed too unrealistic to expect.
And even now with things having changed, it's still hard for him to break that habit. It makes him feel uneasy trying to put a name to what's been going on, and the worst part is that Reggie hasn't even wanted to try and work out why it makes him so uneasy.
So, even knowing -- or at least suspecting -- the general vein of what Archie's asking him now, Reggie answers with: ]
You already know what I want. I thought maybe we could finally bang or something. [ Gesturing with his hands, palms up like a shrug of defeat. ] But since you're obviously in a mood...
no subject
Plus it kinda, you know, smarts. Because while Reggie has said plenty of contradictory stuff in the past couple minutes, it's Archie so of course he's latching onto the worst implications. Maybe that means he is in a mood.]
Yeah. [He crosses his arms. He has never actively turned down sex before? He feels weird, and stupid, and sorta like he just wants to go lay down on his face in bed until morning when he can pretend none of this talk happened. Maybe he shouldn't have turned down the idea of getting drunk.] I guess I am.
no subject
Which, it's important to note, is quite different than not knowing what he could say, because Reggie can think of several options to that effect; I don't really know how to talk about it, or, This was easier when I figured I had no shot with you, or I like you a lot and maybe it's weird to say, but how the hell has that not been clear enough already?
Or even just Sorry, I'm an idiot.
But he can't say any of that, obviously he can't, so Reggie clenches his jaw, tense and frustrated, leaning his arm on the doorjam as if in thought. ]
Well. [ His lips press briefly into a tighter line, and he rubs his palm over his mouth. ] Whatever. You know where to find me if you change your mind, gloomy roomie.
[ At which point Reggie moves back from the door so he can continue down the hallway to his own room, also feeling weird and stupid, and numb, and vaguely sick. This has got to be solvable-- every problem is, always, but at the moment Reggie has no idea where to even start. Right now the only solution seems to be space, but the rest will have to get figured out eventually. Or maybe it won't. ]