Work Text:
"What's Wrong with Them?"
I raise my eyebrows as Cosima threads her way back through the crowd, back to her seat beside me at the bar. “Another ‘no’?” I ask, genuinely surprised.
Cosima shrugs unhappily, reaching for the drink I have been watching for her. She wanted to go out tonight, to flirt and dance, and relax after a long week in the lab. She was insistent that she wanted to get out and have a good time.
We could be watching Game of Thrones, I think, scanning the people around us. Everyone seems faceless and indistinct, packed together under the lights of the dance floor, unimportant. I lean closer to Cosima so she can hear me ask, “What is wrong with these people? How could anyone say no to you?” I shake my head, leaning back with my arms propped on the lip of the bar counter. “Ridiculous,” I mutter, and while I’m unsure if Cosima heard me, she probably does not need to with how I am scowling.
Cosima stares down into her drink, closing her eyes and shaking her head, and her lip curls upward. “Yeah,” she says, “What’s wrong with them?” She laughs, though I’m not quite sure why.
I check my watch and turn to face her, putting my hand on her thigh, “It’s past midnight. Why don’t we go back to your apartment and turn into couch pumpkins?” I smile, fully expecting her to agree and to laugh at my terrible joke.
She doesn’t. Cosima shakes her head again. "I’m not giving up yet. You can head out, if you want, but I’m not sleeping alone tonight.” She turns away from me, looking around for a pretty face. She could pick any person in the room. She puts no limitations on it.
Her words ring in my mind, backed by the pulse of the music, and something feels wrong. If we went – not home, exactly, but if we went back, Cosima wouldn’t sleep alone. I would be there. I know that’s not the kind of night she had in mind, but would it be so bad?
I am scowling again. I think I’m jealous. I don’t like the notion of sharing Cosima’s time or attention. Selfish of me, I know, but it’s the truth. I know I should leave, that maybe I am in the way tonight, but I don’t want to. Aldous’ orders to seduce Cosima flash through my brain, and for a moment I consider it. Only for a moment, though, because I couldn’t possibly hurt her that way. I dismiss it, as I did before, but not before the jealous part of me has time to whisper how satisfying it would be. To have Cosima all to myself. It’s nonsense. It’s the alcohol. It’s the time of night. It’s petty and childish and I am being a bad friend, so I convince myself to stand and kiss her good night.
“Call me if you need a ride or anything, okay?” I press my hand against her arm, squeezing gently until Cosima nods in reply. “Good luck,” I say as I step away, pretending for both our sakes that I mean it.
The walk back to my apartment is long and cold. I am exhausted by the time I settle into my bed, but I can’t sleep. I watch the sun come up from my tiny balcony, alone, and try to understand why it bothers me so much. I don’t have an explanation that feels sufficient. I dwell on it, uselessly, until my stomach begins to complain. Dragging myself inside to eat breakfast takes more effort than it should. This is pathetic, I think, and resolve to drop the issue. I manage to, the fifth time I try.