[ Being drunk is likely the only way Oliver's going to get a straight answer out of Connor. At least right now. He's just not willing enough to be honest while he's sober. Immaturity, maybe. Fear, possibly. Whatever it is, it stunts him before he can progress anywhere. It's never really bothered him before. Oliver just wrecked the curve.
He kind of hates him for it. But he also still really likes him. It's a confusing jumble of feelings he still doesn't know what to do with. And he probably never will.
Connor's gaze shifts back to the floor, which speaks of nothing but guilt. Were there a jury here, he'd be convicted of douchebag behavior of the third degree and no one to blame but himself. What in the hell is he even supposed to say? ]
I don't know. I—It's how I get what I want. [ A hand rises to rub at the back of his neck as he struggles with the partial thoughts trying to find a match inside his head. Nothing's making sense and he feels like he's about to say something stupid or something he shouldn't say. ] Maybe self-sabotage.
[ Well he kind of hates Connor too for what he did, but he also still likes him because he can't just turn that part off. So at least they're in the same boat there.
As he waits for a response, he's struck by how vulnerable Connor is in this moment and he almost feels like a dick for confronting him. He reminds himself he deserves an explanation, but he still wants to go to Connor and has to ball his hands at his sides to keep from doing just that. When the answer comes, it's about what he expected. The last admission surprises him a little, since he wasn't sure Connor had enough self-awareness for it. He suspects he wouldn't be admitting it if he weren't drunk. ]
So... [ he speaks slowly, choosing his words carefully, ] what do you want? Actually? Do you want a— a relationship, or...
[ His voice cracks. ]
Or is this it? [ A frown knits his brows and he throws caution to the wind, his heart pounding, his voice strained. ] I like you, a lot. And I-I can't... I can't be with you knowing you're screwing other people, too.
[ In his waking and sober hours, Connor had run through this conversation a few times. (A few times more than normal, but he was only admitting to a few.) He had everything covered, all his bases and sometimes things work out and sometime they don't. It's a difficult thing to admit to himself that he feels disappointed when they don't.
Has he mentioned yet that he's such an idiot? Because he is.
Connor winces at the crack in Oliver's voice and he exhales long and slow. Again he's silent for longer than necessary while he tries to recall things he's said while wrapped in the fantasy of relationship confrontation. Figures that nothing good is coming to him. ]
I don't know.
[ For someone always so sure of what he wants and where he's headed, he's really failing tonight. Both hands rise to card through his hair and they join together at the back of his head. Eventually, he looks over at Oliver. ]
I mean, I want you. I know that. I just don't want to— [ He gestures with one hand, one eye pinched closed. ] Would we have to have a label?
[ Yeah, Connor's an idiot. But that just makes Oliver a bigger idiot for trying to make him into something he's not.
They just want different things. Oliver should be able to handle it like an adult, he's thirty years-old, for Christ's sake. He should be able to break it off and move on, find someone who wants the same things he does. But instead he's digging his heels in like a child. Inviting Connor over in the middle of the night when Connor's drunk, hoping... what?
He tries not to let the disappointment crush him. That answer was expected, too, but Oliver's heart sinks anyway, and he folds his arms again like he can stop it from sinking to his feet. Hearing Connor say he wants him doesn't even help a little, because he knew that already. If he didn't know it from their phone conversation, he knew when the first thing Connor did once he came inside was try to kiss him.
One brow inches up, his expression drawn. ]
It's not about the label, Connor. It's about you sleeping with other guys.
[ At this point, Connor doesn't even know what he is. He's still young enough that he's finding his way. And along that path he's discovering things about himself that he didn't know. Probably some things that he didn't even really want to know. Mostly right now where he's kind of thinking that being in a relationship isn't the end of the world.
Even if he can't actually say the word and apply it to himself. The thought is there, at least.
Connor exhales again, but on the inhale he straightens. He's feeling too hang-dog and that's not him at all. So, he sits up more and makes all the attempt to face this like a man. A very drunk man that might regret everything he's saying tonight, but at least he won't be a coward. Sort of. Okay, he's totally one of those, too, for doing all this drunk, but whatever. He can lie to himself. ]
Okay. [ His shoulders twitch in an almost shrug. ] Okay. I won't. [ He stares somewhere over Oliver's shoulder, not really seeing anything. ] If you want to be in a— [ . . . ] thing [ he gestures between them ] with me. I won't. Just–uh, just you.
[ In the space between Connor's inhale and his next words, Oliver had been bracing himself for rejection. The events were already unfolding in his head, the terrible way he'd feel as he got a pillow and blankets for Connor and told him to go to sleep. At least he'd have closure. That's all he really wanted out of this conversation, anyway. It was stupid to hope for anything else.
His jaw is set as Connor opens his mouth, but the words that come out are so not what he expected that they take a moment to catch up with him.
But once they do, his arms drop and his jaw goes slack. ]
What?
[ His eyes have a guarded, flinty look, like he's not sure he heard right or he thinks there might be some catch. (Well, there's already one very big catch, and that's that Connor's drunk and can't necessarily be held accountable for things he's saying now, come morning, but.) He takes a half a step forward, his eyes narrowing as his mind scrambles to make sense of the turn of events. It's too late to stop the flickering flame of hope that's ignited in the pit of his stomach, but he might still be able to tamp it out if he has to. ]
You're not just saying that so I'll have sex with you... right?
[ Something about that, and he'll never be able to say what it is exactly, strikes him as funny. He tries not to laugh because he knows how serious this whole thing is (sort of), but... Well, he doesn't really make it. Connor barks out a laugh that seems to startle even him, and he claps a hand over his mouth immediately. ]
No. [ The word is muffled, and he's still sort of laughing, though he's still trying not to. Connor clears his throat and drops his hand. ] Sorry. No, I—
[ What was the question?
Oh. ]
Didn't come here for sex, Oliver. Besides, [ one shoulder lifts in a shrug. ] you said no already. Said it because I mean it.
[ As much as he wants to get up and go to Oliver, he doesn't. Connor's still staying there, unassuming as he can be in this state and allowing Oliver to have control. If he wants contact, he has to take it. ]
Must be something here, right? I came to apologize and got you flowers. Never cared enough to do that before. Missed you, you know?
[ The laughter should annoy him or put him off, but instead it creates a ball of warmth in his chest that slowly unfurls and reaches down his body. He missed that sound. A smile twitches on his lips but doesn't fully appear yet.
Connor's assurances are kindling to that hope fire in his stomach, so it burns higher and brighter. But there are still a few doubts clinging to his mind like cobwebs in corners he can't reach. ] Well that's what I thought. That...there must be something here. But then you...
[ He doesn't want dig into the wound by finishing that sentence. They hadn't said they were exclusive before but Oliver had still thought there was something there, and that's why he'd been so broken up when he found out Connor was still screwing around. That's why he'd felt like such an idiot.
That's why it's a little hard to believe Connor really means it now.
It'll take time, probably. But there's not much else he can ask of Connor tonight. He drops his eyes to the coffee table and his gaze slides off to the side as he processes. Then, his eyes close and he swallows, smiling to himself, at himself, his shoulders shaking with a soft, incredulous laugh.
After a moment, he moves around the coffee table to sit on the couch, leaving a space between him and the arm in case Connor wants to sit there. He leans his elbows on his knees and steeples his fingers, resting his chin on his thumbs. Finally, he turns his head towards Connor. ]
I missed you, too.
[ His voice is quiet and packed with every emotion he'd been trying to hold back until now. He lays a hand on the couch beside him, a silent offering for Connor to take if he wants. ]
[ Come tomorrow things are going to be weird. Connor isn't aware of that just yet, but it's going to be. There's going to be a thread of fear, not unlike a cornered animal, when he realizes what he's done here tonight. And tomorrow he might freak out, wondering just what in the fresh hell he was thinking in this moment, but he wont' want to hurt Oliver. And he does care for him. Really. Actually. Otherwise he wouldn't have gone through all this trouble. He just hopes he'll remember that Oliver's worth all that trouble tomorrow when he wakes up hungover and confused as to why he's here.
But, right now he can at least enjoy the moment. Which he is doing. Fully.
Connor watches as Oliver moves closer, the want still tingling within him to just grab him and kiss him, but he does nothing except sit still, shifting slightly when Oliver's on the couch instead. He still can't really explain why he did what he did with Pax. There was likely any number of ways he could've planted that bug, but... sex was just the easiest. Maybe he is a sex addict. Maybe that's going to have to be a conversation with Oliver down the line. He's going to have to put out a lot to satisfy Connor's urges. But, that's a conversation for another day.
There's a few seconds where he internalizes what he should do, but considering how often his body's been moving without any brain command, he's not entirely surprised to find himself sliding off the arm of the couch to sit fully beside Oliver. But, before he does, he scoops up his hand and laces their fingers together, resting them against his thigh. He leans back against the couch, head tipped upward to stare at the ceiling. ]
[ The things Connor said tonight aren't a binding contract, Oliver knows that. He knows tomorrow might come and Connor might regret everything, freak out or take it back. But it doesn't change the fact he said it, and Oliver thinks on some level he must mean it. He hadn't been hoping for an outcome quite this good; it's only a matter of time before something most likely gets screwed up again. But, he hopes this means they're on the right path at least.
It feels like they are when Connor takes his hand and entwines their fingers. It doesn't feel like a punch in the heart the way it did before. He really, really hopes it doesn't all go away tomorrow morning.
He gives Connor a sidelong glance and eyes the tempting line of his throat as he tips his head back. But before his thoughts can venture further down that path, Connor speaks. A genuine laugh bursts from Oliver, warm with mirth and reaching his eyes this time. ]
Antoine. [ His thumb brushes the side of Connor's hand. ] What about him?
[ He turns to face him a little more. ]
Don't tell me it's okay for you to sleep with... who knows how many guys, but I can't have a single rebound. [ But he's still smiling as he says it, clearly teasing. ]
[ There's going to be some fallback from this. There's no question. So, Oliver better just gird his loins and be a little patient. Connor's going to be embarrassed about this, especially when he realizes he can't remember everything he said and knows Oliver remembers. He might want some space, just to get himself together, but... he'll come back around. He can't not. There's just something about Oliver that Connor really likes. For some reason. Maybe one day he'll figure it all out.
Or maybe he'll just ignore it forever and superficially deal with everything.
The sound of Oliver laughing has a smile pulling up Connor's lips. That sound is far better than the upset that was there only minutes ago. Even if the topic is somewhat questionable and he doesn't actually want to hear about someone else Oliver was with. Giving this guy a name makes it actually real.
It's not that Connor's jealous or anything, that's stupid and hypocritical.
His head tips to the side so he can look at Oliver. It's very clear he's still entirely drunk from the relaxed repose he's in, the heaviness of his eyelids, and the way he smiles—it's still very smug and very much how Connor tends to smile, but it's also a little more genuine and unrestrained. ]
You talked to a rebound about me. [ He laughs because what the hell even. ] Oliver.
[ Being with Connor has been a lesson in patience. If he feels like this could go somewhere, he wouldn't mind waiting a little longer. But if Connor doesn't seem like he's willing to make an effort, well that's a bridge to cross when they come to it.
Anyway. Stupid and hypocritical sounds just like Connor, actually. Oliver would find it cute and more than a little satisfying if Connor were jealous.
Of course, whatever victory he might've had is undercut when Connor laughs at him. But with that smile and the heavy-lidded look he gives him, Oliver can't find it in him to be annoyed by that, either. His cheeks burn and he becomes suddenly interested with a spot on the floor between his knees, though a smile seems permanently fixed to his face. ]
It slipped, okay? And he wasn't just a rebound. [ Shut up, Oliver. ] He could've been more if I-I...
[ He glances at Connor and the words stick in his throat.
Shrugging, he drops his gaze to their tangled fingers. ] It doesn't matter now.
[ Now he might be feeling a little bit jealous. As much as he doesn't want to read between the lines in a statement like that, it doesn't give much room elsewhere. The amusement drains slowly from his face and he can't even help it from happening. Might wish he could, but right now honesty is the way of his body.
Something twists low in his belly, something he won't give a name to (out loud, anyway; his brain knows what it is) but it feels weird and he doesn't like it. That's proof enough he never should've screwed things up between he and Oliver. That smile on Oliver's lips is one he can't figure out. What does it mean? Is he smiling because of that guy??
Connor sits up again, swaying a little, but mostly straight. An attempt is made at keeping his eyes sharp as he watches Oliver in quiet contemplation. ]
[ The shift in the air doesn't go unnoticed. Oliver hadn't meant to bring down the mood, but maybe he had been trying to make Connor a little jealous. Now that he has, though, he doesn't know what to do with it. He's not sure he wants to open up that much to Connor, not when things are still so tenuous between them. He's still wary of being hurt all over again.
For the record, he hadn't been smiling because of Antoine. Oliver smiles for a lot of reasons, not all of them positive, but in this instance it probably had something to do with the way their fingers fit together and Connor saying he wouldn't sleep with anyone else.
There's no smile to be seen now, though. Instead, his expression is thoughtful and a little guarded, his lips pressed together. When he does finally speak a moment later, it's without ceremony. ]
[ Of course it had been obvious. That doesn't mean that Connor didn't want to hear it. Sometimes a guy needs the confirmation to feel better about stupid decisions he makes while drunk. Not that this is particularly stupid, in fact it will probably turn out to be one of the better decisions Connor Walsh has ever made in his life.
But still.
Connor sits there quietly for several moments. Moments that likely stretch into minutes as he completely loses all track of time. His gaze is on their hands but he's not really seeing anything, he's too trapped within the confines of his mind. Which is probably giving off the wrong impression, but he isn't aware enough to think about that. Eventually, he shakes himself out of it with a deep inhale and then he drops back against the couch again. ]
[ In the silence that reigns following his confession, Oliver definitely starts to get the wrong impression. He becomes acutely aware of his heart beating a little too fast, sure that Connor can feel it where their wrists touch. But just as he's about to open his mouth to attempt some sort of damage control, Connor returns to Earth.
A wave of relief washes over Oliver, bringing his smile back to his lips. He leans back too so their shoulders are touching and turns his head towards Connor. ]
Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts. [ It would sound scathing if not for the light tone Oliver uses and his tiny grin, teasing to hide the grain of truth underneath. Then, he voices the thing that's been on his mind since Connor called him. ] Who knows if you'll even remember half the things you said in the morning.
[ But he follows it up with a gentle squeeze to Connor's hand, maybe saying it doesn't matter or it can't be helped, so he won't be mad. ]
[ There isn't even a single moment of hesitation before Connor elbows Oliver in the side. He looks downright offended at the insinuation. (Even if it's probably the most accurate.) ]
Out of everything, I'm going to remember this moment with one hundred percent accuracy because of how offended I am. Right now.
[ And, as it happens, this moment will be retained. If only because how accurate it is, and tomorrow will bring a lot of confusion along with it. But, Connor will get himself sorted. Sooner or later, anyway. It isn't as if he doesn't already know that Oliver is worth all the trouble he's gone through already. He'll just need a little bit to remind himself of that. And then Oliver will see, eventually, that Connor can be trusted.
He looks over at Oliver again, the corners of his lips twitched into a slight frown. ]
I think you should give me a kiss to make up for this.
[ The elbow catches him by surprise, even though Connor's supposed to be the one with the impaired reflexes. He makes a noise between a grunt and a laugh, belatedly shielding himself with his own elbow.
But as he settles down again, there's still laughter in his eyes and a grin on his lips. ] Oh, you think so? [ When Connor looks at him, he stares back and for a moment loses himself in the bright copper color of his eyes. His mouth barely moves when he responds. ]
Okay.
[ He tips his head closer to Connor's, his eyes falling halfway closed, and as their noses brush—
He brings their hands up between them and stamps a kiss on the backs of Connor's fingers. ]
[ He should've expected something so bratty. And maybe had he been sober, he would have. But he's not sober, so he doesn't have any idea what's going on until it happens. He's tipped closer and expecting the kiss to come—even almost closed his eyes all the way.
Then there's nothing.
That's unacceptable.
Connor laughs softly, ] Not funny, Oliver.
[ Then he's moving with a lot more speed than should be normal for someone so drunk. Their hands are moved out of the way and his other one catches Oliver on the side of his neck to pull him in close and he crashes their mouths together in a slightly sloppy sort of kiss. ]
LMFADJK i didn't know what you meant at first and then i saw
[ He grins, clearly pleased with himself, until the moment Connor's lips are on his. Even if he could've stopped it, he probably wouldn't have. No matter how sloppy it is, the kiss still lights a fire in his veins, the warmth unfurling all the way to his toes, all because it's Connor. His eyes flutter closed and he parts his lips, drinking deeply from the kiss for a moment before he pulls back.
One hand rises to the side of Connor's neck and he bumps their noses. ]
You laughed.
[ So, clearly it was a little funny. His heart's pattering against his chest as he tips his head towards Connor's and resumes the kiss, and this time he doesn't stop so soon.
His tongue re-familiarizes itself with the inside of Connor's mouth, from the points of his teeth to the roof of his mouth. He tastes overwhelmingly of alcohol, but it doesn't deter Oliver in the slightest. (He must still taste of mint from brushing his teeth only a few hours ago.) The hand on the side of Connor's neck curls against his skin before pushing up into his hair, his thumb brushing the shell of his ear. ]
[ When Oliver breaks away, Connor almost whines. Almost. The alcohol would've let him if he'd been given a real chance, but Oliver's kissing him all over again so nothing else really matters.
He kisses him like they never stopped doing this and like he never wants to stop. Having no clue what tomorrow is going to bring only drives him to enjoy this all the more. Oliver's mouth is familiar and even in this state he remembers the smooth curve of his teeth and the one slightly jagged edge on the bottom row. He remembers the feel of their tongues sliding together; simple muscle memory of something enjoyed. (The fact that Oliver tastes like mint goes unnoticed—that drunk.)
Just as he's nearing the end of his breath, Connor's jolted apart from Oliver with a hiccup. He looks entirely too startled, as if for the first second he didn't even know what that actually was. Then he just exhales slowly through his nose and presses a soft, lingering kiss against Oliver's lips. He doesn't move far, keeps his forehead resting against Oliver's and one hand curled around the side of his neck. ]
[ The thought that he shouldn't get too carried away drifts through Oliver's head but disappears almost as quickly as it came, like vapor. Even when his heart starts to ache from the familiarity and the unfairness of it all, he doesn't stop. He doesn't stop until he's forced to by Connor's hiccuping, which startles Oliver as much as Connor.
Then, he laughs. His thumb brushes the corner of Connor's jaw. ]
You're just realizing this now?
[ He stays like that, letting Connor lean on him, while he waits for his heartbeat to come down and his mouth to stop tingling. At some point his hand started running slowly up and down Connor's arm, from elbow to shoulder and back. A voice in the back of his mind warns him not to get close to Connor again so quickly—he tells himself he's not.
Pulling back, he pats Connor's bicep and rises from the couch. ] I'll get you some water.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He kind of hates him for it. But he also still really likes him. It's a confusing jumble of feelings he still doesn't know what to do with. And he probably never will.
Connor's gaze shifts back to the floor, which speaks of nothing but guilt. Were there a jury here, he'd be convicted of douchebag behavior of the third degree and no one to blame but himself. What in the hell is he even supposed to say? ]
I don't know. I—It's how I get what I want. [ A hand rises to rub at the back of his neck as he struggles with the partial thoughts trying to find a match inside his head. Nothing's making sense and he feels like he's about to say something stupid or something he shouldn't say. ] Maybe self-sabotage.
no subject
As he waits for a response, he's struck by how vulnerable Connor is in this moment and he almost feels like a dick for confronting him. He reminds himself he deserves an explanation, but he still wants to go to Connor and has to ball his hands at his sides to keep from doing just that. When the answer comes, it's about what he expected. The last admission surprises him a little, since he wasn't sure Connor had enough self-awareness for it. He suspects he wouldn't be admitting it if he weren't drunk. ]
So... [ he speaks slowly, choosing his words carefully, ] what do you want? Actually? Do you want a— a relationship, or...
[ His voice cracks. ]
Or is this it? [ A frown knits his brows and he throws caution to the wind, his heart pounding, his voice strained. ] I like you, a lot. And I-I can't... I can't be with you knowing you're screwing other people, too.
[ Because it hurts too much. ]
no subject
Has he mentioned yet that he's such an idiot? Because he is.
Connor winces at the crack in Oliver's voice and he exhales long and slow. Again he's silent for longer than necessary while he tries to recall things he's said while wrapped in the fantasy of relationship confrontation. Figures that nothing good is coming to him. ]
I don't know.
[ For someone always so sure of what he wants and where he's headed, he's really failing tonight. Both hands rise to card through his hair and they join together at the back of his head. Eventually, he looks over at Oliver. ]
I mean, I want you. I know that. I just don't want to— [ He gestures with one hand, one eye pinched closed. ] Would we have to have a label?
no subject
They just want different things. Oliver should be able to handle it like an adult, he's thirty years-old, for Christ's sake. He should be able to break it off and move on, find someone who wants the same things he does. But instead he's digging his heels in like a child. Inviting Connor over in the middle of the night when Connor's drunk, hoping... what?
He tries not to let the disappointment crush him. That answer was expected, too, but Oliver's heart sinks anyway, and he folds his arms again like he can stop it from sinking to his feet. Hearing Connor say he wants him doesn't even help a little, because he knew that already. If he didn't know it from their phone conversation, he knew when the first thing Connor did once he came inside was try to kiss him.
One brow inches up, his expression drawn. ]
It's not about the label, Connor. It's about you sleeping with other guys.
no subject
Even if he can't actually say the word and apply it to himself. The thought is there, at least.
Connor exhales again, but on the inhale he straightens. He's feeling too hang-dog and that's not him at all. So, he sits up more and makes all the attempt to face this like a man. A very drunk man that might regret everything he's saying tonight, but at least he won't be a coward. Sort of. Okay, he's totally one of those, too, for doing all this drunk, but whatever. He can lie to himself. ]
Okay. [ His shoulders twitch in an almost shrug. ] Okay. I won't. [ He stares somewhere over Oliver's shoulder, not really seeing anything. ] If you want to be in a— [ . . . ] thing [ he gestures between them ] with me. I won't. Just–uh, just you.
no subject
His jaw is set as Connor opens his mouth, but the words that come out are so not what he expected that they take a moment to catch up with him.
But once they do, his arms drop and his jaw goes slack. ]
What?
[ His eyes have a guarded, flinty look, like he's not sure he heard right or he thinks there might be some catch. (Well, there's already one very big catch, and that's that Connor's drunk and can't necessarily be held accountable for things he's saying now, come morning, but.) He takes a half a step forward, his eyes narrowing as his mind scrambles to make sense of the turn of events. It's too late to stop the flickering flame of hope that's ignited in the pit of his stomach, but he might still be able to tamp it out if he has to. ]
You're not just saying that so I'll have sex with you... right?
no subject
No. [ The word is muffled, and he's still sort of laughing, though he's still trying not to. Connor clears his throat and drops his hand. ] Sorry. No, I—
[ What was the question?
Oh. ]
Didn't come here for sex, Oliver. Besides, [ one shoulder lifts in a shrug. ] you said no already. Said it because I mean it.
[ As much as he wants to get up and go to Oliver, he doesn't. Connor's still staying there, unassuming as he can be in this state and allowing Oliver to have control. If he wants contact, he has to take it. ]
Must be something here, right? I came to apologize and got you flowers. Never cared enough to do that before. Missed you, you know?
no subject
Connor's assurances are kindling to that hope fire in his stomach, so it burns higher and brighter. But there are still a few doubts clinging to his mind like cobwebs in corners he can't reach. ] Well that's what I thought. That...there must be something here. But then you...
[ He doesn't want dig into the wound by finishing that sentence. They hadn't said they were exclusive before but Oliver had still thought there was something there, and that's why he'd been so broken up when he found out Connor was still screwing around. That's why he'd felt like such an idiot.
That's why it's a little hard to believe Connor really means it now.
It'll take time, probably. But there's not much else he can ask of Connor tonight. He drops his eyes to the coffee table and his gaze slides off to the side as he processes. Then, his eyes close and he swallows, smiling to himself, at himself, his shoulders shaking with a soft, incredulous laugh.
After a moment, he moves around the coffee table to sit on the couch, leaving a space between him and the arm in case Connor wants to sit there. He leans his elbows on his knees and steeples his fingers, resting his chin on his thumbs. Finally, he turns his head towards Connor. ]
I missed you, too.
[ His voice is quiet and packed with every emotion he'd been trying to hold back until now. He lays a hand on the couch beside him, a silent offering for Connor to take if he wants. ]
no subject
But, right now he can at least enjoy the moment. Which he is doing. Fully.
Connor watches as Oliver moves closer, the want still tingling within him to just grab him and kiss him, but he does nothing except sit still, shifting slightly when Oliver's on the couch instead. He still can't really explain why he did what he did with Pax. There was likely any number of ways he could've planted that bug, but... sex was just the easiest. Maybe he is a sex addict. Maybe that's going to have to be a conversation with Oliver down the line. He's going to have to put out a lot to satisfy Connor's urges. But, that's a conversation for another day.
There's a few seconds where he internalizes what he should do, but considering how often his body's been moving without any brain command, he's not entirely surprised to find himself sliding off the arm of the couch to sit fully beside Oliver. But, before he does, he scoops up his hand and laces their fingers together, resting them against his thigh. He leans back against the couch, head tipped upward to stare at the ceiling. ]
So.
[ . . . . . . ]
Spatula Guy.
no subject
It feels like they are when Connor takes his hand and entwines their fingers. It doesn't feel like a punch in the heart the way it did before. He really, really hopes it doesn't all go away tomorrow morning.
He gives Connor a sidelong glance and eyes the tempting line of his throat as he tips his head back. But before his thoughts can venture further down that path, Connor speaks. A genuine laugh bursts from Oliver, warm with mirth and reaching his eyes this time. ]
Antoine. [ His thumb brushes the side of Connor's hand. ] What about him?
[ He turns to face him a little more. ]
Don't tell me it's okay for you to sleep with... who knows how many guys, but I can't have a single rebound. [ But he's still smiling as he says it, clearly teasing. ]
no subject
Or maybe he'll just ignore it forever and superficially deal with everything.
The sound of Oliver laughing has a smile pulling up Connor's lips. That sound is far better than the upset that was there only minutes ago. Even if the topic is somewhat questionable and he doesn't actually want to hear about someone else Oliver was with. Giving this guy a name makes it actually real.
It's not that Connor's jealous or anything, that's stupid and hypocritical.
His head tips to the side so he can look at Oliver. It's very clear he's still entirely drunk from the relaxed repose he's in, the heaviness of his eyelids, and the way he smiles—it's still very smug and very much how Connor tends to smile, but it's also a little more genuine and unrestrained. ]
You talked to a rebound about me. [ He laughs because what the hell even. ] Oliver.
no subject
Anyway. Stupid and hypocritical sounds just like Connor, actually. Oliver would find it cute and more than a little satisfying if Connor were jealous.
Of course, whatever victory he might've had is undercut when Connor laughs at him. But with that smile and the heavy-lidded look he gives him, Oliver can't find it in him to be annoyed by that, either. His cheeks burn and he becomes suddenly interested with a spot on the floor between his knees, though a smile seems permanently fixed to his face. ]
It slipped, okay? And he wasn't just a rebound. [ Shut up, Oliver. ] He could've been more if I-I...
[ He glances at Connor and the words stick in his throat.
Shrugging, he drops his gaze to their tangled fingers. ] It doesn't matter now.
no subject
Something twists low in his belly, something he won't give a name to (out loud, anyway; his brain knows what it is) but it feels weird and he doesn't like it. That's proof enough he never should've screwed things up between he and Oliver. That smile on Oliver's lips is one he can't figure out. What does it mean? Is he smiling because of that guy??
Connor sits up again, swaying a little, but mostly straight. An attempt is made at keeping his eyes sharp as he watches Oliver in quiet contemplation. ]
If you what?
no subject
For the record, he hadn't been smiling because of Antoine. Oliver smiles for a lot of reasons, not all of them positive, but in this instance it probably had something to do with the way their fingers fit together and Connor saying he wouldn't sleep with anyone else.
There's no smile to be seen now, though. Instead, his expression is thoughtful and a little guarded, his lips pressed together. When he does finally speak a moment later, it's without ceremony. ]
If I hadn't still been hung up on you.
[ He thought it'd been obvious. ]
no subject
But still.
Connor sits there quietly for several moments. Moments that likely stretch into minutes as he completely loses all track of time. His gaze is on their hands but he's not really seeing anything, he's too trapped within the confines of his mind. Which is probably giving off the wrong impression, but he isn't aware enough to think about that. Eventually, he shakes himself out of it with a deep inhale and then he drops back against the couch again. ]
Well. Now you've got me.
no subject
A wave of relief washes over Oliver, bringing his smile back to his lips. He leans back too so their shoulders are touching and turns his head towards Connor. ]
Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts. [ It would sound scathing if not for the light tone Oliver uses and his tiny grin, teasing to hide the grain of truth underneath. Then, he voices the thing that's been on his mind since Connor called him. ] Who knows if you'll even remember half the things you said in the morning.
[ But he follows it up with a gentle squeeze to Connor's hand, maybe saying it doesn't matter or it can't be helped, so he won't be mad. ]
no subject
Out of everything, I'm going to remember this moment with one hundred percent accuracy because of how offended I am. Right now.
[ And, as it happens, this moment will be retained. If only because how accurate it is, and tomorrow will bring a lot of confusion along with it. But, Connor will get himself sorted. Sooner or later, anyway. It isn't as if he doesn't already know that Oliver is worth all the trouble he's gone through already. He'll just need a little bit to remind himself of that. And then Oliver will see, eventually, that Connor can be trusted.
He looks over at Oliver again, the corners of his lips twitched into a slight frown. ]
I think you should give me a kiss to make up for this.
no subject
But as he settles down again, there's still laughter in his eyes and a grin on his lips. ] Oh, you think so? [ When Connor looks at him, he stares back and for a moment loses himself in the bright copper color of his eyes. His mouth barely moves when he responds. ]
Okay.
[ He tips his head closer to Connor's, his eyes falling halfway closed, and as their noses brush—
He brings their hands up between them and stamps a kiss on the backs of Connor's fingers. ]
happy tag, unhappy icon. laughing rn
Then there's nothing.
That's unacceptable.
Connor laughs softly, ] Not funny, Oliver.
[ Then he's moving with a lot more speed than should be normal for someone so drunk. Their hands are moved out of the way and his other one catches Oliver on the side of his neck to pull him in close and he crashes their mouths together in a slightly sloppy sort of kiss. ]
LMFADJK i didn't know what you meant at first and then i saw
One hand rises to the side of Connor's neck and he bumps their noses. ]
You laughed.
[ So, clearly it was a little funny. His heart's pattering against his chest as he tips his head towards Connor's and resumes the kiss, and this time he doesn't stop so soon.
His tongue re-familiarizes itself with the inside of Connor's mouth, from the points of his teeth to the roof of his mouth. He tastes overwhelmingly of alcohol, but it doesn't deter Oliver in the slightest. (He must still taste of mint from brushing his teeth only a few hours ago.) The hand on the side of Connor's neck curls against his skin before pushing up into his hair, his thumb brushing the shell of his ear. ]
no subject
He kisses him like they never stopped doing this and like he never wants to stop. Having no clue what tomorrow is going to bring only drives him to enjoy this all the more. Oliver's mouth is familiar and even in this state he remembers the smooth curve of his teeth and the one slightly jagged edge on the bottom row. He remembers the feel of their tongues sliding together; simple muscle memory of something enjoyed. (The fact that Oliver tastes like mint goes unnoticed—that drunk.)
Just as he's nearing the end of his breath, Connor's jolted apart from Oliver with a hiccup. He looks entirely too startled, as if for the first second he didn't even know what that actually was. Then he just exhales slowly through his nose and presses a soft, lingering kiss against Oliver's lips. He doesn't move far, keeps his forehead resting against Oliver's and one hand curled around the side of his neck. ]
Might've had too much to drink.
no subject
Then, he laughs. His thumb brushes the corner of Connor's jaw. ]
You're just realizing this now?
[ He stays like that, letting Connor lean on him, while he waits for his heartbeat to come down and his mouth to stop tingling. At some point his hand started running slowly up and down Connor's arm, from elbow to shoulder and back. A voice in the back of his mind warns him not to get close to Connor again so quickly—he tells himself he's not.
Pulling back, he pats Connor's bicep and rises from the couch. ] I'll get you some water.