"I am not planning another one of those if I can help it, Oscar," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, glancing over to the couch and making his way over to it. If Oscar can play with him, he feels like he doesn't need to tip toe around and ask if it's okay to sit on his couch.
He isn't aware of Steven, but he squints at Oscar halfway into sitting on the couch, "I live in San Francisco, Oscar. Of course I know what a Vegan is."
Finally flopping down onto the couch, he continues to give Oscar a look, "Is it that hard to unwrap a piece of candy before bed? I made sure I didn't give you any of the ones that had rum in them." He'd sorted them, Oscar.
"And I'm from New York. I still don't know what a vegan is."
He still made to follow Varker to the couch, at least to sit at the end so Clemet could sprawl out on it. He might have been shorter then him, but not by much. It was meant to be a possible bed, if it was needed.
"All I know is he gave me almond milk, and maybe we should do something nice." He gave Clement a mild look back.
"Thank you for doing that. Truly Clement." He made to rub a hand over his hair. "I just...haven't touched them. Not as punishment or anything. I promise. I've had a lot on my mind. Mostly you. And Vincent graduating."
"It's more common in the twenty-first century, don't get your panties in a twist." He eyes Oscar sitting on the edge of the couch and turns, stretching his legs out on the length of it, but not close enough to touch him. If he'd been sitting close enough he wouldn't have hesitated to put them across his lap though, huffing as if he's frustrated that he cant while not saying so.
"Mm. I see, that totally excuses the fact thag you're neglecting yourself." Says the hypocrite, "do you need me to remind you? Because I will. Or get you a little divider for Monday through sunday for your evening jellybean."
"Like a pill box," he teases as if Oscar needed one for his singular candy shaped sleep aids.
Though at the question his head whips up, staring at Oscar a moment before hesitantly asking, "Did...you want me to?" And by his tone, the look on his face its more than just wondering if Oscar wants him on the couch. He hadn't been assuming he was welcome back in his bedroom, even if they weren't doing anything but sleeping.
It was almost comically cute how quick his head whipped up at the idea of coming over again. Yeah...while Oscar wasn't going to say anything, he was pretty sure it was a sign they were a couple. He wasn't sure what kind of couple, but one nonetheless.
"I would love for you to stay over sometimes. But we should work our way back up to it." His words were gentle, even encouraging.
"I missed us, Clement. And I missed you. But we're both still are raw from what we did."
Varker feels something tighten in his chest even through the hopeful surprise at the phrase 'I missed us'. He knows where it's coming from, letting his gaze linger just a little longer on Oscar before he turns his head, looking anywhere else. It's these kind of thoughts that make him wish he had brought his flask with him and his mouth goes dry.
But, he'd come over here to apologize, not start more fights as much as his flaring and ever present temper wants to rear it's head. "You're right, we are." Even if he had somewhat forgotten about it with the flood, and Oscar's apology. That felt like it'd happened a month ago rather than less than a week.
"I- I don't think I can talk about this when I'm sober." Admitting it, he thinks is enough explanation as to why when Oscar knows what this feels like even without the anger issues. "But I wanted to be, at least long enough to tell you I'm sorry, so you could tell it meant something when I said it."
The flood had been awful, and Clement had still been hurting. Oscar could still feel himself tense up, thinking of the things he heard during that flood.
"I appreciate you coming sober. And I know that isn't easy for you. I'm not going to ask you to do what you're not ready for."
He paused, his eyes soft on the blond, lingering on his face.
"But if we want that talk, we'll both have to be sober."
He isn't panicked, not yet, but his hands clench in the fabric of his suit pants, eyeing Oscar.
"I'm...going to work on myself. But if you're telling me, right now, it's..." He takes in a breath and looks away, waving his hand as if to say 'all this', don't make him acknowledge that there is something Oscar, not right now, "is dependent on me staying sober? I'm going to disappoint you, Oscar." It took him most of the day to manage this, and he's already thinking about going back to his cabin and having a drink.
"I'm not like you. and I don't think I ever will be."
Oscar shook his head. He didn't come closer, but he could see those fists.
"No, Clement, this...whatever we are, isn't dependent on that." That wouldn't be fair. And he knew how hard it would be. "Just when you're ready to talk about it, I'd like to do it when you're sober. And when it's done, you can drink."
He was quiet for a few moments. "I'm not being fair. I know. I'm being even cruel. But- I want to make sure if it ends up with us making out...it's because you want to make out with me. Or more. Does...that make sense?"
Varker isn't looking at him, he knows his eyes are a little wild right now, trying to talk down his stupid fucking lizard brain from panicking. He can't say that given what he'd said to be cruel this isn't a fair request, but it scares him nonetheless that this might be followed with more realistic expectations.
"You know, Oscar. I never said that I needed an excuse to kiss you, it was the other way around," It's not a funny joke, but he does point it out on purpose. "But...if that's your condition, I suppose I'll try again sometime."
"Only for the talk. I just want to make sure we're on the same page." His voice was gentle. He didn't like making Clement panic, even if there was a good reason for it. He wasn't going to ask for the impossible.
"I don't need an excuse to kiss you either, you know. But...would you like a hug and a kiss right now?"
For reassurance. No offer for anything more. Sober sex? With these two old men? Impossible, maybe.
He still isn't looking at him. If he does he thinks perhaps that feeling will come back from earlier, like some juvenile secret.
He can tell himself all he wants he's a grown ass man, and yet?
He doesn't respond so much as pull his legs in to crawl the short distance across the couch and inserts himself right onto Oscar's lap. But it isn't to kiss him. Burying himself in the other man's shoulder he hugs him tightly and takes in a deep breath.
He'd spent all of the last week terrified and alone, and he'd been alone because of his own selfish behavior. He'd paid for it over and over and if Oscar is offering to settle the account, well. He's not going to tell him no.
He melts into it almost instantly as Audrey thrums, the tension bleeding out of him. That big hand rubbing his back feels good even through the fabric onto his scales.
"I never thanked you," his voice is quiet, not quite a whisper as his grip tightens. He isn't clinging, he swears he isn't, but its nice to take another breath of him in.
"I...I'm terrified of Dr. Trevanue, a-and I don't think it would have helped that fear any if I'd drown." In fact he's sure he would have been a paranoid wreck if he'd been tolling. A rare moment where death would not have been kinder, especially when it doesn't last. "So, thank you for rescuing me, Oscar. I...appreciated it, even if I didn't act like it, at the time."
Oscar pressed his lips to Clement's hair, nuzzling him with his nose. He'd have to praise Audrey later for her patience and for being such a brave girl the week they were apart.
"I saw the faces. It was terrifying. And thankfully, Audrey managed to cough up some water before I started CPR."
He offered a gentle squeeze. "You're welcome. I'm glad you made it."
Thank you for staying alive, he almost said. But he didn't.
He closes his eyes, clenching his jaw as Oscar agrees with him, and yet he doesn't quite understand what those faces are, who they used to be and should still have been.
His fingers press into his shoulders, taking in a stuttering breath, "I'm...glad I did too, Oscar."
It isn't that he believes that he deserves to be alive. He doesn't, and probably won't for some time.
But when you are reminded of all the people who arent, but could be? It yanks on the chain of self-hatred enough to look at sacrifice a little differently.
"I won't make any promises," its muffled into his shoulder, but he lifts his head just enough, turning it to whisper into his ear, "but I can try."
It was a perfectly reasonable expectation to set. Nothing impossible to tirelessly labor over. Just trying.
He turns his head just enough to take that kiss on the cheek instead. Gives him another squeeze before he gives a shake of his head, "take care of yourself. That's all I'm asking."
And it isn't that he doesn't want to, but he knows where he's at, and Oscar shouldn't fold so easily to comforting him when he's said he's still raw.
It was better that he kissed him on the cheek. The mouth kisses could happen later, after some...well. Time passed. At least another time. Especially if they were going to have to talk sober about...them.
"All right. I'll...try to do that. For you. And me."
Varker is painfully aware that he is not prepared to have that conversation, and out of his respect for Oscar he can't just keep repeating the same mistakes over and over of pushing when he's not capable of handling the consequence.
He lets his face tuck back down into his shoulder, breathing in and out a slow breath. "Good. Now...shut up and hold me." And maybe let them both take a nap on the couch, lord knows they both needed it.
If only for an hour he thinks he can survive that much longer without breaking down too much, and it feels nice to be held. His limbs are tucked and curled enough that he's entirely in the bigger man's lap and his whole body tries to release tension.
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He isn't aware of Steven, but he squints at Oscar halfway into sitting on the couch, "I live in San Francisco, Oscar. Of course I know what a Vegan is."
Finally flopping down onto the couch, he continues to give Oscar a look, "Is it that hard to unwrap a piece of candy before bed? I made sure I didn't give you any of the ones that had rum in them." He'd sorted them, Oscar.
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He still made to follow Varker to the couch, at least to sit at the end so Clemet could sprawl out on it. He might have been shorter then him, but not by much. It was meant to be a possible bed, if it was needed.
"All I know is he gave me almond milk, and maybe we should do something nice." He gave Clement a mild look back.
"Thank you for doing that. Truly Clement." He made to rub a hand over his hair. "I just...haven't touched them. Not as punishment or anything. I promise. I've had a lot on my mind. Mostly you. And Vincent graduating."
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"Mm. I see, that totally excuses the fact thag you're neglecting yourself." Says the hypocrite, "do you need me to remind you? Because I will. Or get you a little divider for Monday through sunday for your evening jellybean."
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No cuddling just yet. Or kissing.
"Evening divider?" He raised his eyebrows. "Will you come in and tell me good night, take your jelly bean? Or even sleeping over again?"
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Though at the question his head whips up, staring at Oscar a moment before hesitantly asking, "Did...you want me to?" And by his tone, the look on his face its more than just wondering if Oscar wants him on the couch. He hadn't been assuming he was welcome back in his bedroom, even if they weren't doing anything but sleeping.
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"I would love for you to stay over sometimes. But we should work our way back up to it." His words were gentle, even encouraging.
"I missed us, Clement. And I missed you. But we're both still are raw from what we did."
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But, he'd come over here to apologize, not start more fights as much as his flaring and ever present temper wants to rear it's head. "You're right, we are." Even if he had somewhat forgotten about it with the flood, and Oscar's apology. That felt like it'd happened a month ago rather than less than a week.
"I- I don't think I can talk about this when I'm sober." Admitting it, he thinks is enough explanation as to why when Oscar knows what this feels like even without the anger issues. "But I wanted to be, at least long enough to tell you I'm sorry, so you could tell it meant something when I said it."
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"I appreciate you coming sober. And I know that isn't easy for you. I'm not going to ask you to do what you're not ready for."
He paused, his eyes soft on the blond, lingering on his face.
"But if we want that talk, we'll both have to be sober."
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"I'm...going to work on myself. But if you're telling me, right now, it's..." He takes in a breath and looks away, waving his hand as if to say 'all this', don't make him acknowledge that there is something Oscar, not right now, "is dependent on me staying sober? I'm going to disappoint you, Oscar." It took him most of the day to manage this, and he's already thinking about going back to his cabin and having a drink.
"I'm not like you. and I don't think I ever will be."
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"No, Clement, this...whatever we are, isn't dependent on that." That wouldn't be fair. And he knew how hard it would be. "Just when you're ready to talk about it, I'd like to do it when you're sober. And when it's done, you can drink."
He was quiet for a few moments. "I'm not being fair. I know. I'm being even cruel. But- I want to make sure if it ends up with us making out...it's because you want to make out with me. Or more. Does...that make sense?"
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"You know, Oscar. I never said that I needed an excuse to kiss you, it was the other way around," It's not a funny joke, but he does point it out on purpose. "But...if that's your condition, I suppose I'll try again sometime."
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"I don't need an excuse to kiss you either, you know. But...would you like a hug and a kiss right now?"
For reassurance. No offer for anything more. Sober sex? With these two old men? Impossible, maybe.
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He can tell himself all he wants he's a grown ass man, and yet?
He doesn't respond so much as pull his legs in to crawl the short distance across the couch and inserts himself right onto Oscar's lap. But it isn't to kiss him. Burying himself in the other man's shoulder he hugs him tightly and takes in a deep breath.
He'd spent all of the last week terrified and alone, and he'd been alone because of his own selfish behavior. He'd paid for it over and over and if Oscar is offering to settle the account, well. He's not going to tell him no.
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Oscar pressed a kiss to Clement's hair, wrapping his arm around him to rub his back.
This is what he missed, more then anything. And he didn't want to leave Clement alone. Not if he could help it.
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"I never thanked you," his voice is quiet, not quite a whisper as his grip tightens. He isn't clinging, he swears he isn't, but its nice to take another breath of him in.
"I...I'm terrified of Dr. Trevanue, a-and I don't think it would have helped that fear any if I'd drown." In fact he's sure he would have been a paranoid wreck if he'd been tolling. A rare moment where death would not have been kinder, especially when it doesn't last. "So, thank you for rescuing me, Oscar. I...appreciated it, even if I didn't act like it, at the time."
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"I saw the faces. It was terrifying. And thankfully, Audrey managed to cough up some water before I started CPR."
He offered a gentle squeeze. "You're welcome. I'm glad you made it."
Thank you for staying alive, he almost said. But he didn't.
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His fingers press into his shoulders, taking in a stuttering breath, "I'm...glad I did too, Oscar."
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And he spoke very softly. "I want you to be alive and stay that way, Doctor Clement Varker."
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But when you are reminded of all the people who arent, but could be? It yanks on the chain of self-hatred enough to look at sacrifice a little differently.
"I won't make any promises," its muffled into his shoulder, but he lifts his head just enough, turning it to whisper into his ear, "but I can try."
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"That's all I ask." He whispered in return, before pulling back- only to try to offer a slow, soft kiss on his mouth.
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He turns his head just enough to take that kiss on the cheek instead. Gives him another squeeze before he gives a shake of his head, "take care of yourself. That's all I'm asking."
And it isn't that he doesn't want to, but he knows where he's at, and Oscar shouldn't fold so easily to comforting him when he's said he's still raw.
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"All right. I'll...try to do that. For you. And me."
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He lets his face tuck back down into his shoulder, breathing in and out a slow breath. "Good. Now...shut up and hold me." And maybe let them both take a nap on the couch, lord knows they both needed it.
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He kept himself from stroking his hair by giving Varker a gentle squeeze around the middle instead.
"Yes dear." He was smiling as he said it. Maybe they could both feel relief and rest, for a little while. That would be...wonderful.
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