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 Used To Love You.

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Thatch Taylor

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Posts : 346
Join date : 2015-11-19

PostSubject: Used To Love You.    Sun Jan 17, 2016 3:26 am

A bit late but this was one of the fics I'd wanted to write you for Christmas. It could be an early birthday present or a late Christmas present, your choice hehe.
It ends awkwardly because I didn't know how Bellamy would react. I'd enjoy you telling me sometime Smile



Morgan sat at his desk, laptop in front of him and a third line of meth still spread out on the wooden surface beside it. He’d already done two and the uncontrollable jittering of his leg proved it. He’d done them nearly an hour ago so the initial high had passed, but it was still in his system.
He was merely scrolling down his Facebook newsfeed when he saw it.
He was no longer friends with Bellamy on here, but he was friends with Piper who had been invited to the event. The man had confirmed that he was attending, so it had showed up to all his friends. And now Morgan had to see it, the small description seemingly taunting him.
“Wedding!” It read. And then below that, “Come join Bellamy Odair and Vitaly Zolnerowich as they celebrate the beginning of their lives together.” This was followed by the name of the chapel and the date. Next Saturday at 2 PM.
Against his better judgement, he clicked on the page and glanced over the cover photo, a picture of the wedding party, posing together. Vitaly and Bellamy in the center, Vitaly clutching a bouquet of roses, Bellamy standing proudly by his side, beaming so wide it didn’t look natural. But Morgan knew it was. The boy had always talked about his wedding, even when they were younger. He had always been excited to find the boy he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, to start a family, to be a father. Morgan wanted to be happy it was finally happening for him. But he couldn’t be.
Beside the engaged couple on either side were their best man and maid of honor. Morgan recognized that Thatcher bitch, his long dirty blonde hair pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck. He’d always hated the man because Bellamy would come home and gush about him constantly. He’d thought the man was trying to steal his best friend and now he had succeeded. Morgan was always supposed to be Bellamy’s best man.
He tried to fight off his anger, eyes flickering over to Vitaly’s side, where a huge man with fiery red hair stood, looking quite miserable. Morgan didn’t recognize him but he assumed it was a friend of theirs, maybe Thatcher’s lover.
On Thatcher’s other side was Breccan, who had always hated Morgan when they were kids. Even then, he had known Morgan was no good for his brother. Breccan’s partner was on the redhead’s other side. Rocinante. Morgan knew him too, since he had never left Breccan’s side when they were growing up. The next pair was Bellamy’s uncles, Dylan and Ace. Ace had always been sweet to Morgan, even when everyone else knew he was bad news. He had liked Ace’s company. And then finally, there were Dallas and Law. Morgan had never been a fan of Dallas, for being the one who inspired Bellamy to join the service. But he knew that Bellamy had looked up to him more than anyone. Of course he was there.
His eyes went back to Thatcher then, his upper lip curled in a snarl as he saw the man standing in his rightful spot by Bellamy’s side.
Of course, he couldn’t really blame the soldier. He had done this to himself.
He had fucked up one night and it had ruined his whole life. Had cost him his best friend, the last person who could have saved him from himself.
Bellamy had always been the only one who cared about him, the only one who tried to help him, tried to get him to go to rehab. But he had always refused, claimed he didn’t have a problem. Now he knew he did but he just didn’t give a shit. What reason was there for him to live? If he accidentally took a little too much sometime, who would care? Andy maybe, but surely he’d get over it. Morgan didn’t matter, it was something he’d learned these past few years alone. The world would go on without him just fine.
Since losing Bellamy he had truly let himself go. He had always been careful then, knowing how hurt the soldier would be if he overdosed. Now he was reckless, not even taking the time to measure things out before shooting up, snorting, or smoking. He didn’t care.
Bellamy was the only thing he’d cared about.
Ever since he was little he’d loved Bellamy. Ever since that blissful day they’d met at daycare and laid together during naptime. Even when he was the scrawny little boy everyone picked on, Morgan had loved him.
He remembered the day that he’d kissed the boy on the lips behind the bleachers after he’d spent his first football game warming the bench. He’d been trying to comfort him and had gotten carried away. Bellamy hadn’t kissed back though, had merely been shocked. So he had simply laughed as if he’d been joking, patting the boy on the shoulder and promising him that he’d help him get better so he could play next time.
He’d never tried something that stupid again.
He could still remember crying the first night Bellamy left for the service. He had rewritten his first letter multiple times because tears had blurred the words to the point that they could no longer be read.
And then after high school when Bellamy was overseas was when he’d met Anderson, the only other good thing to happen in his life. He’d been in love. So in love that when Bellamy came back with his new rippling muscles, Morgan had been able to pretend he hadn’t missed him so terribly.
But then he’d lost Andy too. And by that time it had been too late to go back to Bellamy when he’d needed the man the most. He’d had Britt by then.
So maybe Morgan had been a little bitter, seeing his childhood friend falling in love with a boy that was not him.
Maybe that was why when he’d seen Britt vulnerable and crying while Bellamy was gone, he had jumped on the chance to break them up. He had been high that night, but not so high that he didn’t have control of his actions. He had made the conscious choice to fuck Britt that night.
Maybe he had even wanted to hurt Bellamy a little, for being with this redheaded slut instead of him. He knew it wasn’t his friend’s fault if he didn’t have feelings for him but he was so bitter still. So he had lured Britt home with him and he’d screwed him, even a bit rougher than he normally would have, because he wanted to hurt Britt too. Wanted to hurt him for being so easy to persuade to cheat on Bellamy. Bellamy deserved so much better.
He had never thought that Bellamy would leave him over it, never thought it would backfire on him and he’d lose even Bellamy’s friendship. He’d thought Bellamy would ditch Britt and he’d come over and give Morgan the chance to explain. But instead he’d gotten the soldier at his door teary eyed and carrying a box with things he’d left over at his place. He had asked why but Morgan had frozen. And Bellamy had left.
And then he’d never seen him again except from afar or in pictures on Facebook.
Against his better judgement, he opened the album of pictures on the event page, his face contorting into an expression of anger as he saw it was full of pictures of Bellamy and Vitaly. Of course they had done one of those pre-wedding photoshoots. Nothing less than perfect for their big day.
There were countless pictures of the happy couple in different settings, posing in each other’s arms. In each one Bellamy was grinning widely, blue eyes gleaming with pride while Vitaly was stone-faced as always, though his misty grey eyes showed how happy he truly was.
With each picture, Morgan felt his blood boiling hotter and hotter. It wasn’t until he came across the one of the two of them kissing sweetly beneath a large oak tree that he lost it. His hand shot out, knocking his computer onto the floor and not caring if it broke. Meth always seemed to make him angrier than usual.
Meth was what had gotten him into every shitty thing he’d ever done.
The night he’d hurt Andy?
Meth.
The night he’d spent in jail after getting in a bar fight?
Meth.
The night he fucked Britt and cost himself his best friend?
Meth.
And yet, he continued to do it when he was feeling down. Because it was the best at making him not care about anyone else’s feelings. It made him callous and cold, but at least he wasn’t depressed for a while.
He was on a rampage then, knocking his entire desk over on top of the computer which now had a cracked screen.
That should be him in those pictures. That should be him in Vitaly’s place. Or at the very least, it should at least be him as the best man. He hated that it burned him that he had not received an invitation. His best friend’s wedding and he was not invited. How could Bellamy forget all the years they’d spent together? How could Bellamy forget all the times he’d gotten his ass kicked in school because he was trying to chase some bully away from his friend? Did none of that matter now? Because he’d made a mistake?
He didn’t realize what he was doing until a knock on the door snapped him out of his fit of rage. He stopped then, looking around and realizing his home looked as if it had been ransacked. Everything was knocked over, vases and picture frames cracked, couch cushions torn open. He didn’t recall doing any of it but he knew he had.
“Morgan!” Anderson’s familiar voice snapped as he pounded on the door. “If you don’t answer I’m coming in anyways!” The gargantuan wolf yelled.
“Go the fuck away!” Morgan growled back and the sound of his own voice startled him. He’d never heard himself sound so harsh, especially not with Andy.
“Well that settles it.”
And then the lanky wolf was making his way inside, using the key Morgan had given him long ago.
“Andy, I said get the fuck out of here!” Morgan was storming towards the man in a second, growling in his face even though he was not the one who was a werewolf.
“I can hear you down the hall, Morgan. What the hell is wrong with you?” He knew already of course that the man was on something. But he didn’t know what.
At least he didn’t until Morgan whipped out his lighter, shoving the flame in Anderson’s face, the same thing he’d done that night years ago. Except now he merely flaunted it before tossing it aside. He seemed to know better than to do what he’d done the last time, which was press the flame into his lover’s chest, burning the flesh there which had caused the wolf to nearly have a panic attack, shifting and throwing his lover off. That had been the night they’d broken up.
“Meth, huh?” Anderson sighed, grimacing at the thought. Morgan was not Morgan when he was on speed. He was a vindictive prick.
“Oh, fuck off.” Morgan snapped then, turning around and going back to his laptop which still had Bellamy and Vitaly’s picture on the screen even though it was cracked. He kicked it once more then until Anderson took him by the waist and pulled him back.
“Come on, we’re going to bed.”
“Let me fucking go, Anderson.” Morgan jabbed an elbow into the taller boy’s ribs but it was useless and he soon found himself lying in his bed, pressed to Andy’s chest.
“I’ll just hold you here until it’s out of your system if I have to.” The lavender haired wolf spoke simply, resting his chin on Morgan’s shoulder. It was times like this that he was thankful he was a werewolf and Morgan was not. He trusted his friend to never truly hurt him but he was still grateful that he could not be overpowered. “That’s it, you’re not doing meth ever again. You’d think you’d have learned by now.”
“Jesus, are you ever going to shut up?” Morgan groaned, having given in by now and pressed his face into the pillow.
“Nah. Now are you going to tell me what set you off?”
“That fucking Russian bastard. And fucking Thatcher. And everyone who’s invited to that fucking bullshit wedding.”
Then it clicked. And Andy’s chest ached slightly. But he couldn’t blame Morgan. Bellamy had been his friend first. He had been the second choice.
“Ah. In that case I don’t have anything to tell you. Not like we can go kick their asses and make them cancel the thing… although I’ll give you a ride if you want to go try.”
This earned him a soft laugh from Morgan who then shook his head.
“Can’t you let me be pissed and wreck my own apartment?”
“Nope. If you’re going to wreck shit, at least wreck the shit of the person who pissed you off. Just go over there and punch Thatcher in the face. Yank his ponytail or some shit.” Andy chuckled.
“That sounds like a pretty good idea.” Morgan admitted, moving to lunge off of the bed until Andy yanked him back.
“Whoa there, airhead, I was just kidding. You’re not going over there to assault a soldier.”
Morgan let out soft grumbles as he reluctantly let himself rest in Anderson’s arms.
“I fucking hate this.”
“Yeah? Well if you think my idea of a fun time is holding you until you stop being a prick, you are very mistaken.” Andy smirked softly.
There was a long pause in the conversation, though it wasn’t an awkward silence. Andy and Morgan were at a point in their relationship where silences were no longer awkward. They could just sit in the same room or lie together in complete silence for hours on end. It wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable.
Finally, just when Anderson was fairly sure Morgan had fallen asleep, the man spoke up again.
“I want to go see him?”
“Who? Thatcher? Because I told you, man, no ponytail yanking.”
“No, dumbass. Bellamy.”
“Oh.” Anderson didn’t even try to pretend that wasn’t jealousy in the pit of his stomach. He hated how much Morgan still missed Bellamy, hated that he was never good enough.
“I think I’m going to go talk to him tomorrow.”
“When’s the wedding?”
“Next Saturday.” Today was Friday.
“So you’re going to go see him a week before his wedding and say what, exactly?”
“I don’t know yet. I want to apologize. I never really did.”

So the next day, that was what he did.
He drove to the home of the pack he heard Bellamy belonged to these days. He couldn’t believe his friend was a wolf now. He was used to it though, with Andy. He had a bouquet of roses in hand, though he still wasn’t sure why exactly he’d decided to bring them.
He knocked on the front door and he waited.
A moment later and it was opened by the last person he expected or wanted to see.
A 5’9 redheaded boy with a gorgeous face that paled completely at the sight of him.
“Who are you here for?” Britt swallowed hard as a taller man stepped up behind him, locking his arms around his waist and glaring at Morgan with sharp green eyes.
“Bellamy.”
“No you’re not.” Britt pursed his lips, leaning back into the other man’s arms. “He’s getting married in a week. He doesn’t need your bullshit.”
Britt had been just as stressed about the wedding as Bellamy was. He had been busying himself with trying to stay out of the man’s way as much as possible. Bellamy didn’t need him ruining his wedding by making him hurt. Neither did Morgan.
In fact, he and Sawyer had just been about to leave because Bellamy and Vitaly were gathering the pack in the living room to ask about some of the wedding arrangements. That was why he’d been the first to get the door.
“Leave me alone, Britt. I’ve got to talk to him.”
“Tho thith ith the famouth Morgan, huh?” The man behind Britt finally spoke up and Morgan choked back a laugh. This motherfucker nearly a foot shorter than him who was glaring at him like he was some badass sounded like he was a two year old with that lisp. “Thomething funny?” Sawyer arched an eyebrow as if daring him to say something.
“Nope, nothing at all. Now just get the hell out of my way and let me find Bell, yo.”
“Not a chance in hell.” Britt shook his head, standing there firmly like his five feet and nine inches and hundred and twenty pounds stood a chance against Morgan’s nearly seven feet and over two hundred pounds.
Thankfully, another voice broke the tension before Morgan had to throw punches.
“I heard my name.” Bellamy spoke lightly as he appeared behind the couple. “I’ll talk to him, Britt.”
Britt said nothing then, only nodding before darting out the door past Morgan, tugging Sawyer along with him.
“Can I see you out here? Or I could come in if you’d rather…” Morgan trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.
Bellamy didn’t answer, only stepped outside and closed the door behind them. Then he led Morgan out behind the home to the small set up of chairs they had around the firepit, currently empty.
“What are you doing here?” Bellamy sighed softly.
“I…” Morgan was never one to be speechless or to try and plan out his words carefully. But this was different. He didn’t want to fuck up. He couldn’t think of what to say so instead he thrust his hand forward, shoving the bouquet into Bellamy’s chest.
“Thank you?” The corners of Bellamy’s mouth twitched upwards, threatening to form that brilliant smile that had always brightened Morgan’s day when he was younger. “These are unnecessary but I-”
“I was in love with you.”
“You what?” Bellamy’s eyebrows disappeared beneath the dirty blonde bangs sweeping across his forehead. He couldn’t have heard Morgan right. He could have sworn the boy had said-
“I was in love with you.” Morgan repeated, having blurted out the simplest words he could think of in explanation for the betrayal he’d committed all those years ago.
“That’s what I thought you said.” Bellamy blinked several times. “Morgan, what do you mean?”
“I mean I was in love with you all those years. Ever since I can remember. Before you left and got all big and buff. I loved you even then. That’s why I did it.”
“Did what?”
“Screwed him.” Morgan spoke bluntly. “I was jealous and I hated him more than I’d ever hated anyone before. I… I guess I was pissed at you for loving him when you never loved me. I wanted to hurt him for stealing you away. I thought you’d dump him and then you’d give me a chance to explain. But when you asked me why I did it I couldn’t fucking tell you. I chickened out. So here I am a thousand years too late with my explanation. And… my apology. I’m sorry, Bellamy. I know that doesn’t fix it but I fucking miss you, yo. I saw you were getting married and I was always supposed to be your best man even though I really wanted to be the groom but shit, I wasn’t stupid enough to think that would happen. But I couldn’t sit there and not at least try to come and fix shit between us.” He swallowed when he had finished, finding his palms clammy with his nerves. He averted his gaze as he waited for Bellamy’s response, his stomach filling with dread. But then strong arms were wrapping around him, a large hand patting him on the shoulder.
“You’re forgiven.” Bellamy nodded his head as he hugged his former best friend. “I’ve missed you too.” He never saw himself forgiving Morgan for what he’d done. But he was in a better place now. He could even look at Britt with his tongue down Sawyer’s throat and feel nothing because hell, he was getting married to the gorgeous Russian that had stolen his heart in a week.
Nothing could bring him down now.
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