[As he watched Eugene try to get himself back to how he'd looked before any of this happened, Merriell suddenly found that he could see all of the little discolorations he'd inflicted or caused with disturbing clarity. The red, raw half-circle around the front of Eugene's neck, which was the hardest to explain but, thankfully, disappeared once he'd straightened his collar and tie. The bruise blossoming across his cheekbone. The split lip.
Was it because Eugene's skin was so fair and flawless, or was this guilt creeping in? Did he really look like a Walking Dead extra in anyone's eyes but Merriell's?]
Looks like you got in a fistfight. Probably ain't that regular working in an office but I doubt it's unheard of, neither.
[Why was Merriell still there? To taunt him? Eugene didn't really understand it but even after everything he couldn't find himself to be as rude as he wanted to be. He finished straightening himself and then set to work on making sure the same was done for his desk, not answering the other straight away.]
Why are you still here? You got what you wanted, didn't you?
[He finally spoke, finally turning his eyes to Merriell. He couldn't explain how he felt, equal parts confused and angry and something else. There had been something to Merriell that had felt more than right and that there was that voice inside saying he wanted more but he couldn't accept that.
And with the way that he looked he was going to have to wait until well into the evening to leave so that no one would see him.
He could have fired him, even used the fist fight explanation but he didn't.]
Don't do that. Don't fucking do that. [He was still here because he didn't think Eugene was okay at all and that mattered to him, which meant that he shouldn't turn on a dime at any of those harsh words and let himself get angry.
It sure got too late for that in a hurry. But he was not going to stand here and be treated like he'd taken advantage when he'd given Eugene lots of chances to stop what they'd done.]
[Eugene rubbed his face because he'd only been saying the things he was to try and get Merriell to leave and he was still fucking there with seemingly no intention to leave Eugene alone to sort this all out for himself.]
Do you think it's been easy to live right and do all the right things when I know deep inside what I am? And you just come in here and ... That's what you wanted, right? To see me give in to you, for you to feel proven right? Guess we'll both go to hell now.
[There was little anger actually meant for Merriell, more so self-loathing that seeped into his words. He sat in his chair again, closing his eyes because sitting just now was a reminder of what had just happened. He pressed his fingers to his temple.] Isn't that enough for you? Why you still here, Merriell Shelton?
No. [His voice was quiet, and he finally, finally sounded chastised.] No, that ain't what I wanted.
[He'd been an idiot to treat this like a game when it started, especially for thinking that it'd be easy for Eugene to shed whatever kept him from being honest about himself. Repressed, that's how he'd always thought of his boss, but freedom wasn't always as easy as just stepping out of a cage you made for yourself.
Hell, it never was. Just because he'd done it earlier hadn't made it any easier for him.
He stayed at a distance while Eugene moved away from him but still didn't leave, so overwhelmed by the force of what he'd said that he was unable to find any response.]
I'm still here 'cause - what you been doin', that ain't livin' right, but I didn't think - [He swallowed hard and looked away. At least he'd found a few words.]
Edited (JUST REALIZED HOURS LATER THAT I MISSED PART OF THE TAG) Date: 2016-09-25 09:46 am (UTC)
[Eugene didn't really want to be in the office anymore. He wanted to go home and take a long shower and try to... well he really wasn't sure anymore. He wasn't sure of anything except that this had turned a part of his life upside down.]
What do you even know about me that makes you think you can say that? [He frowned.]
I don't know you. [God, Eugene was really right. He should just fucking leave, but this was his disaster and he had to do something about the fallout.
How did he never realize until now that he wasn't just attracted to his boss, but really liked him? The little he knew, anyway, and the hints of personality that came through despite all his attempts to be perfectly professional: just the fact that he couldn't keep them from sneaking through was so endearing.
He turned away and scrubbed a hand over his face, then ran it over his hair. His movements were usually smooth and fluid, with the same particular sort of easy grace as a cat, which made his physical agitation so that much more plainly.]
I just know you can't hide nothing inside you forever, not when it's part of who you are. It's like... [Turning slightly, he looked at Eugene with unusual softness.] ... s'like how you talk smart enough to fit in with a big office and a nice suit, and real fast like them 'cause there's always somewhere more important you gotta be, but you ain't never gonna be nothin' but a Southern boy who learned some tricks for the Yanks. Can't get that outta your blood, and you can't get this out, neither.
[Eugene watched Merriell's movements, so different from when he had strode into the room like he owned the place. And the words were also something unexpected but still so utterly frustrating.
It was true enough about the Southern thing and he knew at the end of the day he was always a country boy masquerading in the city but that wasn't a big lie. That wasn't a big hidden secret. He wasn't ashamed of where he came from.
His sexuality was something that he had planned to take to his grave. He was going to find a nice wife even and just settle down. But now it'd been dragged out into the open right in front of his eyes which made it harder to deny and lie to himself.]
I wasn't ever going to do anything about it. It ain't right.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2016-09-25 07:18 am (UTC)Was it because Eugene's skin was so fair and flawless, or was this guilt creeping in? Did he really look like a Walking Dead extra in anyone's eyes but Merriell's?]
Looks like you got in a fistfight. Probably ain't that regular working in an office but I doubt it's unheard of, neither.
no subject
Date: 2016-09-25 07:24 am (UTC)Why are you still here? You got what you wanted, didn't you?
[He finally spoke, finally turning his eyes to Merriell. He couldn't explain how he felt, equal parts confused and angry and something else. There had been something to Merriell that had felt more than right and that there was that voice inside saying he wanted more but he couldn't accept that.
And with the way that he looked he was going to have to wait until well into the evening to leave so that no one would see him.
He could have fired him, even used the fist fight explanation but he didn't.]
no subject
Date: 2016-09-25 07:44 am (UTC)It sure got too late for that in a hurry. But he was not going to stand here and be treated like he'd taken advantage when he'd given Eugene lots of chances to stop what they'd done.]
no subject
Date: 2016-09-25 07:52 am (UTC)Do you think it's been easy to live right and do all the right things when I know deep inside what I am? And you just come in here and ... That's what you wanted, right? To see me give in to you, for you to feel proven right? Guess we'll both go to hell now.
[There was little anger actually meant for Merriell, more so self-loathing that seeped into his words. He sat in his chair again, closing his eyes because sitting just now was a reminder of what had just happened. He pressed his fingers to his temple.] Isn't that enough for you? Why you still here, Merriell Shelton?
no subject
Date: 2016-09-25 08:11 am (UTC)[He'd been an idiot to treat this like a game when it started, especially for thinking that it'd be easy for Eugene to shed whatever kept him from being honest about himself. Repressed, that's how he'd always thought of his boss, but freedom wasn't always as easy as just stepping out of a cage you made for yourself.
Hell, it never was. Just because he'd done it earlier hadn't made it any easier for him.
He stayed at a distance while Eugene moved away from him but still didn't leave, so overwhelmed by the force of what he'd said that he was unable to find any response.]
I'm still here 'cause - what you been doin', that ain't livin' right, but I didn't think - [He swallowed hard and looked away. At least he'd found a few words.]
GOOD THING I FELL ASLEEP??
Date: 2016-09-25 03:31 pm (UTC)What do you even know about me that makes you think you can say that? [He frowned.]
<3333
Date: 2016-09-26 07:22 pm (UTC)How did he never realize until now that he wasn't just attracted to his boss, but really liked him? The little he knew, anyway, and the hints of personality that came through despite all his attempts to be perfectly professional: just the fact that he couldn't keep them from sneaking through was so endearing.
He turned away and scrubbed a hand over his face, then ran it over his hair. His movements were usually smooth and fluid, with the same particular sort of easy grace as a cat, which made his physical agitation so that much more plainly.]
I just know you can't hide nothing inside you forever, not when it's part of who you are. It's like... [Turning slightly, he looked at Eugene with unusual softness.] ... s'like how you talk smart enough to fit in with a big office and a nice suit, and real fast like them 'cause there's always somewhere more important you gotta be, but you ain't never gonna be nothin' but a Southern boy who learned some tricks for the Yanks. Can't get that outta your blood, and you can't get this out, neither.
no subject
Date: 2016-09-26 09:28 pm (UTC)It was true enough about the Southern thing and he knew at the end of the day he was always a country boy masquerading in the city but that wasn't a big lie. That wasn't a big hidden secret. He wasn't ashamed of where he came from.
His sexuality was something that he had planned to take to his grave. He was going to find a nice wife even and just settle down. But now it'd been dragged out into the open right in front of his eyes which made it harder to deny and lie to himself.]
I wasn't ever going to do anything about it. It ain't right.