"I can't do it."
Tommy sighed, sitting up and turning on the light. "Can't you even try?" he demanded, sounding frustrated.
Lance glared at him, sitting up as well and holding the cover up to his chest. "I have tried, and I just can't."
"You can, you're just trying to punish me," Tommy complained.
"No, I literally can't!" Lance snapped. "I'm trying, but every time we get started, I can't help thinking about you with him, and it makes me feel so sick that I just can't feel turned on at all."
Tommy sighed again, looking more than a little annoyed. "For god's sake, Lance, that was over a month ago! Ever hear the phrase ‘build a bridge and get over it'?"
"You know what? Screw this." Lance climbed out of bed, taking the cover with him. He held it firmly around his body, covering as much of himself as possible. "I'm taking a shower and leaving."
"Lance, wait." Tommy stood and walked to the other man, an apologetic look on his face. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated. But we've been together too long to just give up on it like this."
"And what do you suggest?" Lance demanded. "What, are you going to go back in time and un- sleep with Vince McMahon?"
"Maybe you should stop being so selfish!" Tommy exclaimed, earning himself a disbelieving glare from his partner. "Think about it, Lance," he continued. "I'M the one who actually had to sleep with him, you know?"
"You didn't HAVE to!" Lance retorted. "You just felt like it 'cos you're a whore and you wanted a push!" Before he knew it, a hand was raised and smacked across his face, his gasp of outrage not changing the angry expression on his partner's face.
"Don't you ever call me a whore!" Tommy yelled, tears glimmering in the corners of his eyes. "EVER! I've gone through that before and I don't need it from you. You know what, just go! Get out!"
Lance looked a bit guilty, not moving one inch. "Sorry," he muttered.
"Fuck you," Tommy told him, turning away and crossing his arms over his chest.
"You're not a whore, ok?"
"Damn fucking right I'm not."
"But, um, you admit you screwed up, right?" Lance asked timidly.
"You want me to say it? Fine. I fucked up! I was an idiot for sleeping with him in the first place, and I was doubly an idiot for thinking it would get my anywhere. Happy?"
"No." Lance was still frowning.
It was silent for a moment, neither man knowing exactly what to say. "We should go back to bed," Tommy whispered at last. "Get some sleep, at least."
"Yeah." Lance followed the brunette back to the bed, climbing onto the mattress and arranging the covers over the bed once more. "Maybe tomorrow?"
"Sure," Tommy muttered, turning away from his lover, carefully checking to make sure he was on his side of the bed, and closing his eyes for sleep.
THE END
The sequel:
Or Maybe Not