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.]
no subject
You don't get it. You haven't seen his good side. He's kind, and smart, and passionate... he's stuck by me through things a lot of guys wouldn't and never even hesitated. He acts like a jerk a lot of the time, but he cares so much about other people even if he doesn't want them to see it.
We had our problems, but breaking up with him was never meant to be permanent. We just had some things we needed to figure out, and I didn't think we could do that together.
[He touches the partially constructed design lightly on a spot where the ink has dried. It's nice actually. Far nicer than he'd been expected when he'd held his arm out.]
You're really good artist, you know that?
no subject
Course I am, sweetheart. [Wink. Honestly, it's just lines and circles. Tell him to draw anything more complex and Oliver's opinion of Mettaton's artistic abilities would tank harder than a cat in ice skates.
Speaking of, someone seems to have realized what time it is, because she's taking it as her cue to sprint through the room on her tiny legs like she's chasing the devil. Jingling and little thumps follow her every lap around the bed, onto the chair, under the bed... Mettaton manages to keep a straight face through it as he continues his work.]
You had problems as a couple and decided your best course of action was to handle it... not as a couple?
no subject
...she doesn't even seem to notice him. She tears around the bed a few more times, once over it, then after a near miss of colliding with the door skitters back to the edge of the bed to gnaw and bad at the dangling covers.
This is obviously vastly superior to receiving pets. At least for the moment.]
He didn't see anything wrong with us. I thought if we spent some time apart he'd start to see, but he still doesn't get why I did it. Maybe it was a bad idea after all.
no subject
You know, Ollie. This might come as a surprise to you, but... I happen to be a very emotional person. [Gray text briefly lights up above his head: Pause for gasp of disbelief.] My boyfriend, on the other hand, is not. Sometimes it feels like dating a pet rock -- it's always logic this and reason that. For months, I would get mad over things that, to me, were completely and obviously upsetting. Then I'd get even angrier that he'd never see the problem. And I wouldn't explain the problem, because it felt insulting to have to spell it out.
So we'd fight. Constantly. And he'd never really know what the reason was until I finally owned up to giving an explanation.
Now, this might sound like the wizened advice of a talk show host (and it partially is, but let's not split hairs over it)... the thing I've eventually learned about being in a relationship is... your partner isn't a mind-reader. You have to talk, instead of dramatically issuing every argument is worthy of a break-up, like... some exceedingly handsome and wealthy robotic idols. [Not naming names.] Because there are solutions to every puzzle, and standing your ground and waiting for the other person to get the picture won't help you solve it any faster. You either solve it together or it doesn't get solved.
[Pft. The next sentence is partially muffled, tinted with affection and embarrassment all at once as he works to thicken some of the lines on Oliver's skin.]
...Still dresses like a homeless detective that fell into an Irish thrift store, but some concessions have to be made.
no subject
He doesn't exactly want to now. He doesn't come off looking good in this story, even to someone who would 9/10 likely take his side. His expressions sobers, and he reaches over the side of the bed to distract himself with the kitten currently intent on ruining his sheets.
...she gnaws on his finger, sharp teeth leaving indents on the skin. He decides it's safer to leave her be and relaxes back on the bed again, staring up above him.]
This is different. Connor wanted to just be blind to everything that was wrong with us. He wanted to to act like nothing bad ever happened. And if it did he could just forgive me and it would be like it never happened.
[He's being vague. What he's saying probably makes no sense to him with so few details. He exhales, and after a brief pause he reluctantly starts to elaborate.]
Connor... he had this big opportunity. Like, this amazing, once in a lifetime chance to get into one of the best schools in the country. But I didn't want to go with him. So I pretended to be him, I turned down his place, and I made it so he never even knew he got in.
[He pauses again briefly, glancing briefly to Mettaton, then away again before he can take in his reaction. He's better off not knowing until he's finished.]
When he found out he wasn't even mad. He said it was his fault for not listening. He just wanted to forgive me and carry on, like nothing happened.
no subject
The Terrordome that is being in a relationship with Mettaton. How Keats was spiteful and determined enough to keep with it is practically a medical mystery.]
So you're mad at him for not being mad at you over the thing you're already mad at yourself for?
[Are you listening to yourself?]
no subject
[Maybe he isn't impressing on him enough just how big of a deal Stanford is. It wasn't a small lie. And Oliver knows he wasn't the only liar in that relationship.]
no subject
Either you consider yourself an emotional threat to him and break it off for good, or you forgive yourself like he has and try again with the knowledge that you've hurt him and know better. [Shrug.] Waffling's just a bad look for everyone, gorgeous.
[Ah, the design's finally getting close to somewhere Mettaton's willing to say it's done. Look at it, so handsome and strong and pink. Just like-- wait, what is Annie chewing on--
It's a bed-sheet string, that little monster!!! Mettaton's never fallen off a bed faster.] NO, DOn'T EAT THAT!
no subject
Perhaps it's fortunate that Annie manages to get herself in trouble. It draws attention away from that particular topic, onto other things.
Like how did her tiny (admittedly sharp, but tiny teeth manage to put a hole in his sheets, and get free a thread long enough for her to feasibly swallow. Oliver leans over the edge of the bed to try and grab her away from it if Mettaton hasn't managed already.]
no subject
Teamwork.
Mettaton slides back onto the bed, holding his dearest kitten in both hands.] This is not how a Duke behaves, Anastasia, [he scolds, mouth drawn into a line. She purrs.] No. You're being punished. Apologize to Oliver right this second.
[He turns her toward Ollie's face and holds her inches away from it.
...she gently places a paw onto his nose. Aww... he'd forgive her.]
no subject
But if he had been mad, this definitely would have earned his forgiveness.
His heart melts a little as the warmth of her tiny paw lands on his nose. He can practically feel the rumble of her purr from this close up.]
I forgot how adorable kittens were.
[Also how sharp their little claws are, but it only takes single finger to lift her paw up and away from his face where those little daggers can't do any harm.]
no subject
I've never felt one before. They're so... [Fragile. Squirmy.] Soft. [Ouch. Getting a little over-zealous there, Annie... He pulls his finger out of her mouth. She doesn't seem to mind, instead rubbing her fuzzy cheeks onto his shirt.] I didn't even know what soft was a few months ago...
[...
Well. Since someone seems to have gotten her zoomies out of her system (for now), Mettaton pulls the precious little ball of fluff away from himself and places her into Oliver's lap. Her ears perk, interested with the new position, but she quickly finds that Oliver is just as warm as her owners and gets to sitting calmly. Like a good Duke.]
You're going to be fine.
no subject
We had a cat when I was growing up, but a lot of places don't let you have pets if you rent so it's been a while.
[He's had to take advantage of other people's pets for a lot of years. Apparently he's continuing that now. She's so soft and warm, he might have to find more excuses to visit Mettaton more often.]
I'm going to talk to him. Not now, but you know... soon.