Oliver Hampton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
catphishing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
epidemiology2017-09-02 05:14 pm
catphishing) wrote in epidemiology2017-09-02 05:14 pm
Entry tags:
[CLOSED] What day is today? It's Oliver's birthday.
CHARACTERS: Oliver, Mettaton & Connor
DATE: 2nd September unless otherwise stated
WARNINGS:Watch this space. Thirst quenching. I'm sorry...
SUMMARY: A bunch of starters because Oliver's getting old.
Closed to Mettaton
[Oliver hesitates before he messages Mettaton. He's 32, single, and somehow lonelier than he'd been before Connor showed up. Asher's the only person he knows from home here who'll even speak to him, and without the friends and family he's always had by his side on previous birthdays it doesn't feel like there's much reason to celebrate.
It takes a lot of talking himself up before he can bring himself to do it, but he knows it's ridiculous not to. He's not alone here. Not really. It makes no sense to spend a day he's supposed to be happy dwelling on what he doesn't have instead of enjoying what he does.
He heads to the kitchen to retrieve cake and various other necessities first, then on his way back to his room fires off a text to his friend before he can change his mind. His birthday only happens once a year. He deserves to enjoy himself.]
I'm about to put on a movie, you should come over!
[He doesn't wait for a response before starting to set things up. Mettaton's been a good friend to him and he has no reason to think he'd let him down now. He clears off his bedside table only to fill it again with the cake, along with popcorn, candy, and a couple of plates. There's not really any room for the wine he'd brought up so he settles for leaving that and the wine glasses on the floor next to it. It's not the classiest set up, but that doesn't matter.
By the time he checks his messages again all he has to do is set up Tekflex to show them the Full Monty. After all, what's more uplifting than steelworkers come strippers?]
Closed to Connor - 5th September
[This is a mistake. Out of everywhere in Oska this is the last place he should be. Yet here he is, hovering uncertainly outside Connor's door. He's too nervous to knock, but he can't make himself turn away either. He misses him. He doesn't want to carry on acting like he does't exist.
He's lost count of the amount of times he's raised his fist only to let it sink back down without knocking. It's already getting late. Maybe he'd be better coming back tomorrow. Maybe Connor has someone else in there in there already. He can't here anything, but that doesn't rule anything out. Maybe he's not even here. He has no right to be upset by the thought of Connor in another man's bed, but it makes him feel a little sick regardless.
Eventually Oliver does build up the courage to knock, but it's an action he regrets immediately. What if Connor is in there with someone? What if Connor answers and all they do is argue again? What if all he does when he sees him is shut the door in his face? His stomach churns uncomfortably and he wants to leave, but he finds himself frozen in place, hardly able to breathe.
At this point he almost hopes Connor isn't in to answer.]
DATE: 2nd September unless otherwise stated
WARNINGS:
SUMMARY: A bunch of starters because Oliver's getting old.
Closed to Mettaton
[Oliver hesitates before he messages Mettaton. He's 32, single, and somehow lonelier than he'd been before Connor showed up. Asher's the only person he knows from home here who'll even speak to him, and without the friends and family he's always had by his side on previous birthdays it doesn't feel like there's much reason to celebrate.
It takes a lot of talking himself up before he can bring himself to do it, but he knows it's ridiculous not to. He's not alone here. Not really. It makes no sense to spend a day he's supposed to be happy dwelling on what he doesn't have instead of enjoying what he does.
He heads to the kitchen to retrieve cake and various other necessities first, then on his way back to his room fires off a text to his friend before he can change his mind. His birthday only happens once a year. He deserves to enjoy himself.]
I'm about to put on a movie, you should come over!
[He doesn't wait for a response before starting to set things up. Mettaton's been a good friend to him and he has no reason to think he'd let him down now. He clears off his bedside table only to fill it again with the cake, along with popcorn, candy, and a couple of plates. There's not really any room for the wine he'd brought up so he settles for leaving that and the wine glasses on the floor next to it. It's not the classiest set up, but that doesn't matter.
By the time he checks his messages again all he has to do is set up Tekflex to show them the Full Monty. After all, what's more uplifting than steelworkers come strippers?]
Closed to Connor - 5th September
[This is a mistake. Out of everywhere in Oska this is the last place he should be. Yet here he is, hovering uncertainly outside Connor's door. He's too nervous to knock, but he can't make himself turn away either. He misses him. He doesn't want to carry on acting like he does't exist.
He's lost count of the amount of times he's raised his fist only to let it sink back down without knocking. It's already getting late. Maybe he'd be better coming back tomorrow. Maybe Connor has someone else in there in there already. He can't here anything, but that doesn't rule anything out. Maybe he's not even here. He has no right to be upset by the thought of Connor in another man's bed, but it makes him feel a little sick regardless.
Eventually Oliver does build up the courage to knock, but it's an action he regrets immediately. What if Connor is in there with someone? What if Connor answers and all they do is argue again? What if all he does when he sees him is shut the door in his face? His stomach churns uncomfortably and he wants to leave, but he finds himself frozen in place, hardly able to breathe.
At this point he almost hopes Connor isn't in to answer.]
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When he tugs the door open, surprise breaks across his features before tightening into concern. He had not heard from Oliver in two weeks, and the vastness of the castle enabled their game of avoidance. He does not think to slam the door shut, arrested by surprise as he is: because he had presumed it already shut and locked between them, the key pitched far away, never to be retrieved.]
Oliver? Is everything okay?
[The only possible reason Oliver would come to him now is because something dire has happened. His voice is tight with his underlying wariness, his eyes hard as if readying a mask to disguise his hurt, but he waits to hear what Oliver will say. He crosses his arms over his chest, clad in an undershirt and black ALASTAIR-issue pants. It should be evident that he has just showered. His hair is damp still, an unstyled tangle, and he carries about him the clean scent of soap.]
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Yeah. I-- [It's a lie. Lies are what ruined them in the first place. He shakes his head, any thought of pretense crumbling now he's standing in front of him.] No.
[He looks into Connor's eyes imploringly, hoping he's not too late to salvage something from him. He's so lonely without him. It's even worse knowing he's here but not even being able to talk to him. He'd been angry, but now that's faded he's just achingly sad.]
I'm sorry. When we broke up... I wanted to make things better. I never wanted it to get this bad. I know I shouldn't be asking for anything, but I need you. I can't keep pretending like you're not a part of my life.
[His heart is in his mouth as he bares himself to Connor. He has every right to turn him away, but if he rejects him now he doesn't know what he'll do. He's never felt so powerfully for anyone the way he does Connor and the very real thought he might lose him for good now is terrifying.]
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I missed you.
[Finally, he feels that he is allowed to say the words that had nearly strangled him that day he first realized the other man was here. The rest he has not planned, because he didn't think he'd ever have the chance to say what has risen to the top of his heart, floating above the brackish muck, in the days they have spent apart. It comes naturally, unfurling from him as his arms uncross.]
And there's nothing you can ask of me that would be too much. I'm serious about us...I'm serious about making this right. That isn't a mistake. It can't be, not when you mean so much to me. I want to prove that to you...if you'll let me. I know I pushed too hard before. I was scared and confused and I didn't know what else to do, but that didn't make it right. I wasn't being fair to you.
[Oliver could not appear more perfect to him in this moment. He is here when Connor feared he was gone forever, and his words are so gentle when before they were harsh, his heart so open and vulnerable when before it was sealed tight.]
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[They've both made mistakes. It feels like they keep making them, but he's not ready to give up yet. How can he when he still feels so much for him? It breaks his heart that every conversation between them only seems to make the rift between them grow further. He just hopes that this time they'll be able to get along. If they argue again now then what hope is there?]
I don't get what happened to us. I still love you. Why do we keep fighting?
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Because we're a couple of idiots who couldn't see that what's in front of us is so good.
[He steps closer, crossing the threshold, reaching for Oliver. He longs to hold him by the waist, to cup his cheek, to curl his fingers in his hair, but instead he places his hand on his shoulder for a gesture more friendly than intimate. He does not want to ruin what feels so fragile by pushing Oliver too hard. Yet there remains a tenderness to his touch as his hand slides over his shoulder and down his upper arm.]
I don't want to fight anymore. I love you, and you love me, so...what are we doing? We're just making ourselves miserable.
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I'm sorry. I thought it help. If I knew we'd end up like this I'd never have done any of it.
[His own confusion had ended up marring the goodness of their relationship. If he'd just let Connor forgive him back then, or better yet hadn't so selfishly deleted his acceptance email then none of this would have happened.
But it's too late for that. It done now and they're left with the aftermath. All he can do is apologize and hope from now on they'll do better. It will take time, but maybe Connor's right and they need to fix their relationship together.]
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God, I missed you. Even when you were right there, I couldn't help it...I missed you anyway.
[It is relief that overwhelms his heart in this moment, clearing away the detritus of his doubts and fears, his heartache and loneliness. Oliver is singlehandedly capable of devastating his heart and reforming it again, of hurling him to his lowest point and lifting him to his highest. He is the moon to which his tides rise and fall: nobody else has ever occupied so much space in his life.
And in this moment he thinks only on how he would forgive him any trespass, he would do whatever it takes, as long as it means they can stay together.]
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You should hate me.
[Part of him still doesn't understand why he doesn't. He hates himself for being capable of betraying someone he cares so much for as badly as he did. He'd thought that maybe Connor could be hiding something worse, but now he wonders if that's just an idea he used to make him feel less guilty. Connor's undeniably flawed, but in his heart he's a good person who's always tried to be there for him. He deserves the same from Oliver now that he's the one going through a difficult time.]
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I can't.
[Even in the lows of his despair and the heights of his anger, when he thought he might hate Oliver, he had known that it wasn't true, that he was incapable of severing the other from his heart. To do so would leave him with nothing. He had then understood why people spoke of being hopelessly in love.
In the back of his mind he hears Oliver asking, Don't you see how scary that is? And maybe he should. There was a time not all that long ago when he would have shuddered at the mere notion that anyone could become such a powerful force in his life, that he could bend to grow entwined with them - but now it is not the commitment that scares him. What scares him is the hollowness he would be left with should Oliver leave. The emptiness he has learned too well.]
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Even that small touch feels electric.
He's selfish. Always selfish. But now it's hard for him to understand how he went without this for so long. He's still anxious, still scared of his rejection, but he needs the confirmation. He needs to know that he and Connor can still have something even now.]
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You want to come in?
[His breath is warm against Oliver's lips, his words soft and supple, and his eyes so heavy, compelled by the gravity of the man before him.
Later, he will think himself selfish. He will remember that Oliver would be better off without him, that he is perhaps unfit for love. But for the present, such insecurities are hazy as if seen from far away, and the entirety of his field of vision is occupied by Oliver. If he's selfish, then so be it.]
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At the invitation he nods breathlessly, not quite meeting Connor's eyes. He's still nervous, but his need for him outweighs any thought he might have otherwise.]
Yeah. Yeah... I'd like that.
[He leans in to reinitiate the kiss, already craving his lips again. He's reluctant to pull away even to go inside, and so opts for walking Connor back, closing the door behind them using his heel so his hands remain free to wander the other man's sides. He's grateful for the identical layouts, allowing him to know the layout without ever having set foot inside.]
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He lets Oliver steer him inside. The sturdy thud of the door falling shut, leaving them to their own little haven, is music to his ears, and so is the fluttering of Oliver's breath, the give and take of his lips. Before the other man can begin guiding him further, however, Connor pushes him up against the door. His lips dip away, but only to take to Oliver's jaw, teasing his earlobe, and his voice is hazy like a summer afternoon.]
I've wanted this for so long...
[He does not pin him too firmly, encouraging him to push back, leaving room for the thought that he might guide Connor toward the bed that awaits across the small room.]
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we're sorry god and also jesus
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and now, the sexy thread
I'll be there. ;)
[Of course he'll be there. It's a movie with one of his darlingest friends! Especially the friend that took the time out of his day to fix the mess that used to be Mettaton's face - Oliver's practically earned himself the equivalent of a life debt with that one. Is there anything on the planet more important than Mettaton's face, metal or otherwise?
So this visit, like any other offer to view a movie with friends, has a short diversion to the kitchens. When Mettaton arrives, he's in his more fleshy android form with a covered basket under one arm and a black, fluffy kitten perched onto his shoulder. He offers an explanation for neither when Oliver opens the door.
But he does offer a hug. Of course!!]
I see someone beat me to the punch! Whatever's the occasion, sweetheart? [Wine? Cake...? A grin overtakes his face as he pulls away and playfully knocks a fist against Ollie's shoulder.] Did they finally update the Teleflix with the last season of my dance competition? Ollie, you shouldn't have!
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Hey! Who's this?
[Oliver is definitely charmed if his endeared smile is anything to go by. He reaches out to allow the small kitten to sniff at his hand, and pet her if she seems open to it.]
It's not a big deal. I just... it's my birthday. Connor isn't even speaking to me. Asher probably hates me too. I think they're the only ones who'd know and it seems kind of lame to just spend the day on my own.
[Though when he puts it the way he just did it sounds pretty lame anyway.]
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Unfortunately, what the man says next cuts introductions a bit short. Mettaton's grin fades into wide-eyed, soul-crushing despair. It's Oliver's birthday. This is what he wanted to do? Movies, alone, with one person (albeit one amazing, unique person with a heart as gold as his bank account)?
...it's tragic. But it's also Oliver's day and he's allowed to do whatever he wants. If he wants to sit and watch movies, then...
The smile comes back, softer this time. Now that his tiny friend has started to busy herself exploring Mt. Oliver, Mettaton places his basket on the bed and begins removing the food he prepared: artisan sandwiches, fried tortilla chips, some sort of crazy bean gravy called "hummus", and some very carefully packaged cups filled with bright pink strawberry milkshakes.
...he assumed there would be more than one person here. This might be more than a little overkill.]
Well! It's their loss. Just you, me, and Annie, then. And if I have a personal stake in my role as an entertainer (which I do), this will be the most spectacular birthday you will ever have. Anything you want, darling! It's yours. I AM made of magic, after all. [Wink.]
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Luckily Anastasia already seems to be doing a lot to lift his spirits. He's doing his best to scritch the parts he knows cats like best, but it's difficult when she refuses to stay still. She's currently making her way from one arm to the other, making her way around the back of his neck to achieve this. He's barely even wincing at the sensation of her sharp little claws digging in through the material of his shirt. She's cute enough to make it worthwhile.]
Just don't let me eat all of this on my own. I won't even be able to move when it's time for the next mission.
[He tries not to show he knows this spread wasn't just made with the two of them in mind. It's a little embarrassing that that is his situation. And honestly the cat makes up for a lot how he's feeling right now. He might have a difficult time letting her go when it's time for Mettaton to leave.]
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He's so proud.
AHEM. With a small flourish, Mettaton makes himself comfortable on the edge of bed, one leg crossed over the other. But first...]
I don't mind calling in some reinforcements if you don't want this to be a two-man band, you know. [Or two men and a cat. Whichever.]
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It's fine. I don't want to make this a big deal. I just want to to spend some time with someone who actually likes me and watch something fun. I set up the Full Monty. Have you seen that one?
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He takes Annie back into his hands and sets her down onto the bed, his eyes still on Oliver. He shakes his head, still smiling, as she leaps into the basket and presumably after some unsuspecting ham sandwich.] Not that I recall. But I'm going to let my honor at being your chosen guest outweigh any trepidation about your taste.
You do, after all, have a crush on the Mighty Duck man.
[Nope. Not letting that one go.]
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[He's never telling Mettaton anything ever again. He rolls his eyes as he hands Mettaton one of the glasses.]
It's good. You'll like it. [Hopefully.] Just be glad I'm not dragging you into watching period dramas with me.
[Then again, they like a lot of the same movies. Maybe Mettaton actually likes those.]
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He takes the glass and swirls it, like one is wont to do with a fine glass of wine, and flexes his foot.]
"Period drama?"
[Explain.]
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[This better just be him not realizing what he means or he's going to be subjected to all of Oliver's favorites at some points. He sits back on the bed with a dreamy look in his eyes. He doesn't even seem to notice that Annie has emerged from the basket and is dropping pieces of chewed meat all over his floor. Presumably she'll eat those up pretty quickly anyway...]
I like the ones with forbidden romances. Like the stable boy and the lady of the house. Or the priest and the woman he can't help but love anyway.
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...wait. Old days?
This is the crushed face of a man who was just now told by his family that he isn't really of royal descent.]
Old days? [Do houses not have ladies and stable boys on the surface? That can't be true! There's been a MILLION princesses on this team! There is a woman who is both a lady AND a horse!!]
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[He looks over in bafflement, not expecting this kind of reaction at all. Why does he looks so upset?]
Is that bad...?
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