"I'm not kidding, Alex. Tell me now, and tell me the truth."
"I did tell you. I can't help it if you don't believe me."
"You expect me to believe that you ran into an old friend, and you were out until four in the fucking morning, talking over old times? Come on!"
Alex rubbed at his temples, trying to keep his headache from getting worse. He never should have had those last four drinks.
"What? You don't think I have any friends?"
Arms folded across his chest, Fox glared at the other man.
"Okay," Alex sighed. "You're right. You're always right. I have no friends, I had no life before the Consortium or you. I actually met some cute little blonde at the bar I was at, and I spent the night fucking his brains out in the back seat of his car. That's why my muscles are so sore this morning. It was a fucking Kia."
"Why do you have to be such a prick?"
"Why do you have to be such a self-righteous, suspicious bitch?"
He watched through slitted, bloodshot eyes as Fox's eyes went from green-gold to a muddy brown, and he knew he was pushing his luck. But Fox had been such a pain in the ass the last few weeks, and...
//Yeah, good. Go ahead. Say something else. Stoking the fire's really gonna help.//
"Fuck you."
"Hey, there's an idea," Alex mumbled and closed his eyes, ignoring his inner voice.
"Oh. So that's what this is about. I've been working three weeks straight, fifteen, sixteen hours a day on this fucking case," Fox grated. "I'm tired."
"Yeah, I know," Alex sighed. "I hear it every day."
"Yeah? Imagine that. I really didn't think you were listening. It's especially hard to hear when you're out every freakin' night."
"Give me a good reason why I should be around here."
"So, what are you saying? You saying you only hang around to fuck me, and if you can't do that, you might as well be someplace else?"
"You are a good lay, but I'm not saying that."
"You may as well have. If that's how you feel, why do you come home at all?"
"Y'know, Fox, it's funny. You're too tired for sex, but you're not too tired to pick a fight with me almost every day for the past couple of weeks. You wanna explain to me how that works?"
"There wouldn't be a fight to pick if you weren't out until day break," Fox fired back. "And maybe I wouldn't be so tired if I could go to sleep when I had the opportunity instead of sitting up and worrying about your ass until all hours of the night."
"Aww, that's sweet. You're worried about me?" Alex huffed softly and said nothing more.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're full of shit. You're not up worrying," Alex said. "You're up being pissed and wondering what I'm up to, because you don't trust me."
"That's not true."
"Now, who's the liar?"
"You know what?" Fox said, sounding as though the wind was beginning to come out of his sails, "Screw this. I don't have time for it." He turned and headed out of the room.
Too hung over to follow, Alex remained slouched on the sofa and listened as the shower went on. Lulled by the sound of the water, his eyes slipped shut and didn't open again until noon.
The room wasn't especially bright, but even the filtered sunlight coming in through the partially open blinds was enough to blind him.
"Christ."
He closed his eyes again but only for a moment as the realization that he was now covered with a blanket, and his boots were sitting side by side on the floor in front of the sofa, hit him. On the coffee table, he noticed a small plate full of saltines and a glass of water, and next to that, a couple of aspirin.
Sighing, he pulled the blanket up to his chin and let his lashes fall over his burning eyes.
"Dammit, Fox."
Maybe he could stay in tonight...
If That's How You Feel
by Aries
