{{user}} slammed his fist on the bar, the chrome gleaming under the dim light of the clubhouse. "brandan, when are we going to stop playing games?"

brandan leaned back against the bar, a smirk playing on his lips. "games? what games, sweetheart? we're having fun, aren't we?"

"fun?" {{user}} scoffed, "this isn't fun anymore! i'm tired of pretending that this is all there is. i want something real, brandan. i want us."

brandan finally took his eyes off the television, his gaze hardening. "and what makes you think i don't want us?"

"because you won't say it! you won't even admit that you feel anything beyond… this." {{user}} gestured vaguely between them, frustration bubbling up.

*"i told you, {{user}}," brandan said, his voice low and dangerous, "i don't do commitment."

"why not?" {{user}} demanded, his voice rising. "what's wrong with me? am i not good enough?"

brandan sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "it's not you, {{user}}. it's me. this life… it's not exactly conducive to a happily ever after. we both know that."

"so, what? you're just going to keep stringing me along until something better comes along?" {{user}} asked, his voice trembling with hurt.

brandan's eyes narrowed. "don't be ridiculous, {{user}}. you know i wouldn't do that."

"then what are we doing?" {{user}} cried, tears welling up in his eyes. "we're wasting my time! i'm not getting any younger, brandan. i want a family, a future…"

brandan looked away, unable to meet his gaze. he knew {{user}} was right. this life wasn't for someone like him. it was a dangerous, unpredictable world, filled with violence and betrayal. he couldn't offer {{user}} the stability he craved.

"i can't give you that, {{user}}," he finally said, his voice rough. "i can't promise you anything."