Misconceptions
***ing Admit It
“Well, yes,” he says slowly after a moment. “But as I was trying to explain, it’s quite a natural thing, even if ill-advised... there’s no need to sound so judgmental about it...”
Fuming, Brandon doesn’t even hang around long enough for him to finish his sentence. He leaps up from the sofa, adrenaline speeding his movements and propelling him out of the lounge and down the corridor without looking back; he certainly doesn’t want to see Zack’s smug, stupid, handsome face. The wanker didn’t even have the good grace to look embarrassed.
Brandon knew. He knew there was something off about that man, and fucking...god, Cody has just kept it to himself all this time. A tiny, tiny rational part of him that’s struggling to be heard wants to know if it really matters who Cody did or didn’t sleep with before they even stopped hating each other, but he silences it. Because it does. It does when that person is here, working with him every day and being all Zack around the place, and Brandon didn’t even know about it.
He reaches the office in record time and doesn’t bother to knock. When he enters and Cody looks up from his desk and their eyes meet, Brandon’s stomach lurches and he feels suddenly like his head and heart might explode.
“What on earth’s the matter?” Cody sets down his pen and frowns.
“Why did you never tell me you’d slept with Zack?” Brandon demands, breathless, and Cody opens his mouth to respond but Brandon doesn’t let him; the words just pour out, faster and faster as he stands there with his arms folded. “I can’t believe I had to find out like this, in front of Madison of all people. You wouldn’t fucking believe the day I’ve had, either—work’s a nightmare, and Rita turns up at the gallery wanting to talk about Harris, and then your mother wants to have some deep philosophical debate with me in the rain, and then I walk in here and... god, Cody! I know it was a long time ago, but how could you not tell me?”
There’s an odd look on Cody’s face as he starts to push his chair back, and it’s almost like confusion, but Brandon can barely see straight as it is. Pain speeds the blood in his veins and he cuts off Cody’s, “Brandon, can you—” with another stream of bile.
“And the thing is, I knew there was something about him, Cody. I knew! I tried to get on with him because it’d make you happy, and I knew he didn’t like me.” Brandon looses a hollow laugh that hurts his chest. “Of course he didn’t, because he’s your ex-boyfriend or rehab shag-buddy or whatever, and he’s probably laughing inside because stupid Brandon didn’t even know,” he finishes, and though he’s barely raised his voice, Cody’s expression tells him he’s hammered his point across nonetheless.
When Brandon falls silent, Cody pulls his chair back to the desk and crosses his arms on top. Something hardens in his eyes that would scare Brandon, were he not already so angry.
“I see,” he says calmly. “That’s what you want me to admit, is it? That I slept with Zack? Fine. I did. Are you satisfied now?”
Brandon’s stomach tips and he doesn’t know if it’s the words or the cool delivery, but fuck, it hurts. “Is that all you’re going to say?”
Cody shrugs, and his eyes really are cold. “What if I did, Brandon? I left rehab five years ago. That time of my life is over.”
“But you just let me think... I’ve never liked how he behaved with you, but you said that’s just how he was, and now I can’t get it out of my head,” Brandon says, grimacing at the thought. “You just can’t be friends with exes, it doesn’t work!”
“You utter fucking hypocrite,” Cody accuses.
Head full and heart sore, Brandon is confused. “What?”
“What’s Madison, then, scotch mist?”
Flushing, Brandon looks at the floor, out of the window, anywhere but at Cody. “That’s different.”
Cody snorts. “Of course it is. Because it’s you.”
Insulted, Brandon turns back to him immediately. “No! Look, alright... that wasn’t a very good point. But at least you knew about Madison. You’ve always known about Madison.”
“Brandon, what’s your point?”
Cody, he notices, isn’t yelling either. He knows that the cool front can be deceptive, but even so. His pulse hammers out of control as he meets shuttered grey eyes and all of a sudden, he quite pathetically wants to cry.
“My point is that... you never fucking tell me anything, that’s my point. And clearly, I’m an idiot.” Brandon rubs his sore eyes behind his glasses. “I feel like there are so many people around me who are trying to trip me up when my back’s turned. I need to be able to trust you, and I...” Brandon sighs and shakes his head. “Fuck it.”
Cody doesn’t even move from behind his desk when Brandon yanks the door open, steps into the corridor and lets it slam behind him.
He turns around and smacks straight into a wide-eyed Zack, who seems to have been standing outside the door listening to their argument, if the expression on his face is anything to go by. The snarl that rips from his throat is entirely involuntary. Zack’s hand reaches out to grab Brandon’s wrist and slips over the string yanking it off his wrist. Brandon’s eyes widen and he shoves away and storms out of the manor.
Fuming, Brandon doesn’t even hang around long enough for him to finish his sentence. He leaps up from the sofa, adrenaline speeding his movements and propelling him out of the lounge and down the corridor without looking back; he certainly doesn’t want to see Zack’s smug, stupid, handsome face. The wanker didn’t even have the good grace to look embarrassed.
Brandon knew. He knew there was something off about that man, and fucking...god, Cody has just kept it to himself all this time. A tiny, tiny rational part of him that’s struggling to be heard wants to know if it really matters who Cody did or didn’t sleep with before they even stopped hating each other, but he silences it. Because it does. It does when that person is here, working with him every day and being all Zack around the place, and Brandon didn’t even know about it.
He reaches the office in record time and doesn’t bother to knock. When he enters and Cody looks up from his desk and their eyes meet, Brandon’s stomach lurches and he feels suddenly like his head and heart might explode.
“What on earth’s the matter?” Cody sets down his pen and frowns.
“Why did you never tell me you’d slept with Zack?” Brandon demands, breathless, and Cody opens his mouth to respond but Brandon doesn’t let him; the words just pour out, faster and faster as he stands there with his arms folded. “I can’t believe I had to find out like this, in front of Madison of all people. You wouldn’t fucking believe the day I’ve had, either—work’s a nightmare, and Rita turns up at the gallery wanting to talk about Harris, and then your mother wants to have some deep philosophical debate with me in the rain, and then I walk in here and... god, Cody! I know it was a long time ago, but how could you not tell me?”
There’s an odd look on Cody’s face as he starts to push his chair back, and it’s almost like confusion, but Brandon can barely see straight as it is. Pain speeds the blood in his veins and he cuts off Cody’s, “Brandon, can you—” with another stream of bile.
“And the thing is, I knew there was something about him, Cody. I knew! I tried to get on with him because it’d make you happy, and I knew he didn’t like me.” Brandon looses a hollow laugh that hurts his chest. “Of course he didn’t, because he’s your ex-boyfriend or rehab shag-buddy or whatever, and he’s probably laughing inside because stupid Brandon didn’t even know,” he finishes, and though he’s barely raised his voice, Cody’s expression tells him he’s hammered his point across nonetheless.
When Brandon falls silent, Cody pulls his chair back to the desk and crosses his arms on top. Something hardens in his eyes that would scare Brandon, were he not already so angry.
“I see,” he says calmly. “That’s what you want me to admit, is it? That I slept with Zack? Fine. I did. Are you satisfied now?”
Brandon’s stomach tips and he doesn’t know if it’s the words or the cool delivery, but fuck, it hurts. “Is that all you’re going to say?”
Cody shrugs, and his eyes really are cold. “What if I did, Brandon? I left rehab five years ago. That time of my life is over.”
“But you just let me think... I’ve never liked how he behaved with you, but you said that’s just how he was, and now I can’t get it out of my head,” Brandon says, grimacing at the thought. “You just can’t be friends with exes, it doesn’t work!”
“You utter fucking hypocrite,” Cody accuses.
Head full and heart sore, Brandon is confused. “What?”
“What’s Madison, then, scotch mist?”
Flushing, Brandon looks at the floor, out of the window, anywhere but at Cody. “That’s different.”
Cody snorts. “Of course it is. Because it’s you.”
Insulted, Brandon turns back to him immediately. “No! Look, alright... that wasn’t a very good point. But at least you knew about Madison. You’ve always known about Madison.”
“Brandon, what’s your point?”
Cody, he notices, isn’t yelling either. He knows that the cool front can be deceptive, but even so. His pulse hammers out of control as he meets shuttered grey eyes and all of a sudden, he quite pathetically wants to cry.
“My point is that... you never fucking tell me anything, that’s my point. And clearly, I’m an idiot.” Brandon rubs his sore eyes behind his glasses. “I feel like there are so many people around me who are trying to trip me up when my back’s turned. I need to be able to trust you, and I...” Brandon sighs and shakes his head. “Fuck it.”
Cody doesn’t even move from behind his desk when Brandon yanks the door open, steps into the corridor and lets it slam behind him.
He turns around and smacks straight into a wide-eyed Zack, who seems to have been standing outside the door listening to their argument, if the expression on his face is anything to go by. The snarl that rips from his throat is entirely involuntary. Zack’s hand reaches out to grab Brandon’s wrist and slips over the string yanking it off his wrist. Brandon’s eyes widen and he shoves away and storms out of the manor.