[PRP] You're a Starboy (Horace & Oliver)

[The Semblance of Unity]

After spending some time being butt-hurt about how Oliver didn't actually care (it was fine, though, because it was Horace's fault anyway - he'd overstepped and he should have learned by now but he never ******** did), and spending some time becoming a warg (which sounded like some kind of term from an anime), and spending even more time making sure Melany was mostly ok (she was, more or less), Horace got over it. He'd texted Ollie some, here and there, but hadn't asked to come over or meet up for a while. He was too afraid of how mad Oliver might be. And maybe, too disturbed by how much that thought bothered him. But, in reality, his imagination was always his worst enemy. So he'd baked a pie and texted to come over. And Oliver had agreed.

So here he was, pie in hands, bat in back pack... bat pack, outside Oliver's door. His hands were full, but he'd texted Oliver that he was here before getting out of his car. Horace kicked the door instead of knocking.

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

It hadn't bothered Oliver much, the loss of contact, not really.

This was to say, it had bothered him to some degree.

Oliver was not a social creature; never had been, never would. He spent his time in relative isolation, where contact was done on his own time with his own terms for his own reasons. Every conversation had a purpose. Nothing was done because of some arbitrary reason. Suffice to say that even though he had been having a good day when Horace stopped by, Oliver's own ineptitude to properly display emotions had apparently been too much, and it had caused a divide. Look, he wasn't social, but he wasn't stupid to social cues.

But that was fine. Short, choppy, necessary conversations; he could do that. He could do that all day long. Life fell back into normal monotony. He studied for school. He went to work at his job. He came home to his placid apartment life, slept for a couple hours, and woke up to do the routine over again. Horace shot him a text and he responded in turn—come over, sure, whatever, he didn't care.

The door knocked, Chai murbled, and Oliver took his time getting up to answer it.

"You made a pie." He said duly as he opened the door. No hello, no nice to see you. He stared at the object for a long moment before finally added a quiet "Sorry, hi. Come inside."

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"Yep. You said I was a master baker, right? Figured I gotta prove it." Horace smiled. "Hi, Oliver. I hope you aren't allergic to strawberries." He moved inside, poking his toe out at Chai briefly before depositing the pie in the kitchen. Horace felt a little self-conscious, a little awkward, but he was pushing through it.

"I hope I wasn't interrupting you or anything."

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Oliver flushed, hardly remembering that night to be honest. He only had Horace liking all his s**t on instagram as proof that anything actually transpired, because he was pretty sure he wouldn't have given that out sober. "I'm not, no." He wondered for a brief moment if there actually was anything he was sensitive to (insofar as edible things and furry things, because he was pretty allergic to criticism and friendship), but nothing came to mind. Not that it was a bad thing.

"I was just..." Sitting around aimlessly? Petting my cat? "...you weren't interrupting anything, no. I mean, I knew you were coming over." He toed at the corner of the kitchen counter, "So it wasn't like I was going to make any plans."

Plans. Right. He remembered Eli telling him briefly about an outing he'd had with this guy, and it made him squint all over again. Whatever; his friends were allowed to be friends, if you could even call them friends on either account. He sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. Thankfully Chai was a master negotiator, and the awkwardness was subsided by her reentry and subsequent murbling.

Nosey, ever spindly, appeared from atop the fridge like she'd always been there, eyes tiny yellow lights against the dark as pitch black of her fur.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

Horace shrugged. "Some people still make plans last minute." It had happened to him before. He reached up, offering his fingers to Nosey. Chai was very, very sweet, but in his heart of hearts, Horace thought he liked Nosey a little better.

"Oh, wanna see something cool? It's kind swollen but eh - feels neat." Horace turned to Ollie and stuck out his tongue. In the center of his tongue was a bright pink ball - the top of a barbell piercing. "Looksh nea', yeah?" she said with his mouth still open.

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"I suppose." He looked over at Horace's suggestion, his eyebrow raising slightly. When he stuck his tongue out, his eyes widened. "You got a piercing?" He sounded... surprised, sort of, but then he actually laughed. "Sorry, it's just—Shiloh did something like that, when he got his eyebrow pierced. Hid it with his bangs, showed it off suddenly out of nowhere."

The laugh faded, "But um, didn't that hurt?" At least it was a good ice breaker. "It looks cool, but I suppose I never really understood the appeal of piercings." He tilted his head as he looked at it. After a moment he went to retrieve a knife—for the pie, of course.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"Yeah, it still kind of hurts. Want to kiss it better?" He grinned but barely finished saying that before laughing. "Sorry! But I don't know, I like having them. I've got somewhere over eleven, I think. No secret piercings for you?"

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Oliver's eyebrows shot up, "Don't ask for things you can't commit to, Horace." And then his eyes narrowed, "Don't ask questions that have answers you can't handle either."

He held the expression for a moment, but then it sort of melted. Oliver didn't have the same silly disposition that his brother did, but he did occasional show a more playful side. "I don't though, no. I guess I debated my ears for a few days once, but it isn't worth the trouble. I don't have the time to maintain them." The knife dug into the pie seamlessly as he cut himself a slice. Preemptively, he cut another one for Horace, even if he didn't want it.

After plating both the slices, he looked a touch solemn. "By the way, uh." He looked down at the pie awkwardly, "I'm glad your... vision thing worked out." He paused, "It did work out, right?"

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"That sounds like a challenge, Oliver. I'm right here." He spread his arms out. Then he snorted. "Maintaining them isn't hard - you just have to clean them." He moved to stand near Oliver, thankful that his pie stood up to slicing. Not that he'd had any doubts, but still.

"It did work out, thanks for asking. I, uh... I've got a bat now." He paused. "Well, I mean that was the vision thing. I'm a warg."

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"I have kissed people before, you know, it's not like I'm scared to." He looked downright huffy, "Warg though, warg... I guess I should've figured." He rubbed the back of his head, "It sounds like they go through a lot of the same stuff that moonwalkers do. Y'know, minus the becoming a furry thing."

He looked and sounded fairly ambivalent about the entire thing.

"Do you like it?" He asked without turning around, eyes on the pie, "Being a warg?" Don't grip that knife too hard Ollie, you'll look like a serial killer. He set it down after a moment. "I mean, it's scary right? When that stuff happens out of nowhere..." What exactly was he trying to get at? He handed one of the plates over to Horace

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"Sure you have kissed loads, Oliver. Must come with being so good at romance." Horace snorted.

"You know, that's kind of why I came over to your place - because you're one of the few people I know who's gone through things and I didn't know if I was were-wolfing out or something." Put the knife down, Ollie. Horace knew the whole kissing thing was a bad joke, but...

He took the plate. "Got a fork? And yeah, it was... scary, but it's kind of easy to just roll with it. I've kind of had to learn how."

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Oliver settled for making a face, disgruntled and sarcastic and challenging all at once, like he wanted to say something (he didn't, thank god). Except then after a second moment he did (god dammit) "Alright, fine." He waved his hand, "I'm terribly disconnected and severed from the majority of people in my life, the kissing never occurred, cest le vie, whatever the ********." He had kissed people before, if anyone was curious. Maybe not loads, but it happened on a number of occasions.

"Sorry." He said after a moment, kneading the back of his head with his hand, "My headache's keep acting up. It's making me crabby." That was... rare, but whatever, good on you Ollie. "I'm glad you adapted to it."

A fork was handed over belatedly, with Oliver taking his own. The pie was good at least, that much was evident with how he closed his eyes to savor the first bite, fork still clamped in his mouth.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

Horace snorted. "Okay, sorry on my part, too, I pushed that. You should go on some nice, romantic dates sometime, though." Tension headaches were a b***h.

He waited to eat because he wanted to watch Oliver's reaction. It was kind of everything he'd hoped for. "Am I a master baker?"

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Oliver flushed, "Horace, that's crude." Because he didn't remember that he was the one who coined the term in the first place. He finished chewing and swallowed delicately before nudging off another piece of the side of his fork, "It's really good though." Like the cupcakes before, "It doesn't disappoint, if that's what you're worried about."

He was content to lean against the counter as they chattered. "I've never even been on a romantic date in my life," He snorted as he admitted the fact, "I, uh, think anyway." He wasn't sure where to place his dinners with Eli. They weren't real dates, were they? He supposed they ended in sex sometimes, but—he looked disgruntled for a moment as the thought left his head. "Anyway, I take plenty of breaks."

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"You said it first, Oliver." Horace finally took a bite of his own pie. It wasn't bad, next time, maybe some extra brown sugar. "I'm glad you like it, I like baking... Most people find that weird." He realized this was probably a silly thing to like, but it was kind of soothing.

"Oh my god, Ollie, you need a romantic date. That's it!" He paused for effect. "That's the next step in you learning more romance. Now do you want to take me out or should I take you?"

melancholies