He did love those eyebrows, when he had them. And, well, Clement had been tortured. Oscar just hoped those memories were still not there, as a blessing.
"No, I'm giving Simon his automy back. You were a coward. I won't pretend you weren't. You were afraid, and also grieving. Let's not forget that either. However."
He pointed at Clement. "He made the choices to go down this road. Did he apologize, ever, for asking for the serum? He is a man, and your friend. Was your friend."
He leaned forward. "He killed your friend. He killed your Simon, even if you dodged his calls. You are not perfect. You screwed up. But. You can't take his choices from him. And it is not your fault for being here now."
"Simon lost his son, suddenly and horribly. That broke him, and the most I ever did in the aftermath of that was ask him if he wanted to spend some time at our house, and tell him to get fucking therapy." Varker was upset already, but he's starting to get angry, and with it some other emotion is twisting its way though.
His hand slams on the table, standing up so he can gesture more wildly, even exhausted as he was, "Every single time I ignored him, left him on read, that was a conscious decision I made. I understand that what he did- It...It was evil, but none of us are blameless, Oscar. I earned my place here, I deserve to be in hell, a-and I'm- I'm just..."
His breath stutters as he tries to keep up with how fast his heart is beating, "I'm the only one left with half a fucking mind who can pay for it, Oscar. I'm here to pay for it, a-and I am...I'm trying."
He listened quietly, and closed his eyes. Hearing that...well. It was a coward's move. Lightly, Oscar reached into his pocket to feel his rosary in his pocket, exhaling slowly. He had been cruel, pressing in while Clement had been feeling so low.
But. But. It was good to know. He needed to know. And Clement needed to say it to him to know he wouldn't just turn away.
"Yes. You're trying. You are trying now." He watched him for a few moments. "Clem. Look at me, and take in a deep breath. Please."
The hand that had slammed the table comes up to his chest, gripping his shirt as his whole system started to get overwhelmed. Each breath came too quickly, too short to help and it's times like these he feels like he's dying even though he's just in a room that usually brings him comfort, with a man he adores.
He isn't sure if it was just the stress, or the fact that he knows this isn't all of it, that there is more to tell and that little bit he keeps hidden away, the worst of his transgressions? He thinks Oscar might never look at him again if he confessed to it.
Still, even as Oscar speaks to him, his free hand grips the chair back, shutting his eyes tight and swaying a little, unsteady on his feet.
Oh Clement. His poor, dear Clement. He knew what this was. Everything had bubbled up and burst and now his mind and his heart was in utmost stress.
He kept his movements slow as he got up to his feet, letting go of his rosary in his pocket. He stood there, not wanting to set Clement off further to make him bolt.
"You don't have to look at me. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Just breathe darling. Take in a nice, deep breath for me and hold it. Can you try? Try it. Please."
Varker's eyes squeeze more tightly shut, but he gives a slow nod. His breathing doesn't shift at all, but it's clear that he's at least trying to.
He shuffles back, almost tripping over the chair behind him and his back hits the wall. He sinks down against it, knees bent and legs askew as his ass hits the floor.
With his head in his hands, he tries harder to breath more evenly, deeply, but hes some ways to go.
One leg slides down to the floor slowly followed by the other. It wont be comfortable, or the same as on Oscar's couch, but he sucks in a deep, stuttering breath and says, "come here."
Struggling to regulate has him wanting pressure, the weight of Oscar against him more than a hand, one he might have squeezed the life out of anyways.
Varker's returned squeeze is just as tight, the pressure and weight forcing himself to slow down. It isnt perfect, but he can get his face in the other man's chest and just try to breathe while his whole body requests more oxygen.
Audrey gives him another little mlem on the chin since he's right there, and Varker slowly starts to breathe more regularly.
The kiss has Audrey thrumming quietly in response, Varker's fingers gripping Oscar's shirt tightly. He'll have to tell him sometime that he thinks he looks both ridiculous and adorable in his hawaiian shirts, but now is not the time.
Slowly, he starts to come back to himself, rubbing his face into Oscar's chest.
From where he's half suffocated himself, he says a little muffled, "thank you." For stopping when he couldn't handle any more, for being here, for coming in the first place when he'd half dragged him into the room.
He turns his head, cheek against his chest with a sigh, "I keep waiting for you to hate me...and I'm sorry that I am. I don't think I can help it. I- I hate myself, most days." Especially when there is more that Oscar could hate him for that he hasn't touched.
He loves his Hawaiian shirts. So he'll only pout a little when it comes up. Oscar gave Audrey another little kiss. The thrumming was adorable.
He hummed, gently stroking his hair, after giving him a tight squeeze and release.
"You're welcome." His voice was quiet. "I...don't want to hate you. But I am aware we are both flawed. And I'm not looking at you with blinders on. I know you're an asshole."
Varker closes his eyes, takes in a few more deep breaths and properly hugs Oscar rather than clinging to him, "So what are you then, Oscar? Can I call you my priest?"
He tries to let the scent of the candle help soothe him the rest of the way down, lifting his head just so to press little kisses along his jaw, his beard tickling his nose.
He's so very good like that, and Varker appreciates it even if the need for contact, to be touched is strong, its a bitter sort of pill that settles some hurt and aggregates others.
The mention of his charitable work brings a hard topic back to the surface though, distracting himself a moment longer by kissing a line down the column of his exposed throat. But that's enough stalling. His nose and mouth rest against his neck, absently giving him kisses as he speaks.
"Oscar... do you think I should finish it? Ellie's cure." He can't remember if he'd even said he'd been working on it, but cats out of the bag now.
Oscar offered a soft 'oh', a soft exhale at the soft kisses against his throat. It was enough that it took Oscar a few moments to have what Clement said, and he blinked.
He still had to clear his throat.
"Ellie's cure? Oh yes, darling. You should. Um. What cure?"
Sorry Clement, he is trying to be supportive but the touches were distracting.
Varker pauses in his kissing, unable to fight the smile despite how he was feeling. Being a successful distraction feels good in a way he doesn't often any more and he takes a moment to savor it before going back in.
"She was an immune carrier of a fungal zombie virus." Which he's sure wasn't public knowledge, but she was dead, he didn't feel all that bad about telling Oscar.
"We were working on developing a cure, Oscar. It's why I asked Norton for my lab back."
He felt the smile against his throat, and tried not to huff in amusement. Yes Clement, that was a very good distraction, and you're very pretty.
"Zombie virus." He said carefully. He had heard of zombies before, but the idea that they could be transmitted from a virus...he needed to think of that a little more. Though it was a little hard with his throat being kissed like that.
"You and her. A cure." He nodded, carefully, so he wouldn't bump into Clem or Audrey. "I- didn't know. I didn't know, but-you said it should take you a year? What would be the best way to send over the cure, spread it?"
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Re: Cw: child death mention
"No, I'm giving Simon his automy back. You were a coward. I won't pretend you weren't. You were afraid, and also grieving. Let's not forget that either. However."
He pointed at Clement. "He made the choices to go down this road. Did he apologize, ever, for asking for the serum? He is a man, and your friend. Was your friend."
He leaned forward. "He killed your friend. He killed your Simon, even if you dodged his calls. You are not perfect. You screwed up. But. You can't take his choices from him. And it is not your fault for being here now."
Re: Cw: child death mention
His hand slams on the table, standing up so he can gesture more wildly, even exhausted as he was, "Every single time I ignored him, left him on read, that was a conscious decision I made. I understand that what he did- It...It was evil, but none of us are blameless, Oscar. I earned my place here, I deserve to be in hell, a-and I'm- I'm just..."
His breath stutters as he tries to keep up with how fast his heart is beating, "I'm the only one left with half a fucking mind who can pay for it, Oscar. I'm here to pay for it, a-and I am...I'm trying."
Re: Cw: child death mention
But. But. It was good to know. He needed to know. And Clement needed to say it to him to know he wouldn't just turn away.
"Yes. You're trying. You are trying now." He watched him for a few moments. "Clem. Look at me, and take in a deep breath. Please."
Re: Cw: child death mention
He isn't sure if it was just the stress, or the fact that he knows this isn't all of it, that there is more to tell and that little bit he keeps hidden away, the worst of his transgressions? He thinks Oscar might never look at him again if he confessed to it.
Still, even as Oscar speaks to him, his free hand grips the chair back, shutting his eyes tight and swaying a little, unsteady on his feet.
"I- I can't."
Re: Cw: child death mention
Oh Clement. His poor, dear Clement. He knew what this was. Everything had bubbled up and burst and now his mind and his heart was in utmost stress.
He kept his movements slow as he got up to his feet, letting go of his rosary in his pocket. He stood there, not wanting to set Clement off further to make him bolt.
"You don't have to look at me. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Just breathe darling. Take in a nice, deep breath for me and hold it. Can you try? Try it. Please."
Re: Cw: child death mention
He shuffles back, almost tripping over the chair behind him and his back hits the wall. He sinks down against it, knees bent and legs askew as his ass hits the floor.
With his head in his hands, he tries harder to breath more evenly, deeply, but hes some ways to go.
Re: Cw: child death mention
But he did move to sit on the floor again, in his line of sight.
"I care for you very much. Keep breathing. You're doing wonderful. If you want my hand- just reach."
Even if it would be, no doubt, be a painful grip.
Re: Cw: child death mention
Struggling to regulate has him wanting pressure, the weight of Oscar against him more than a hand, one he might have squeezed the life out of anyways.
Re: Cw: child death mention
Oscar came over, and opened up his arms to hug him tight.
Re: Cw: child death mention
Audrey gives him another little mlem on the chin since he's right there, and Varker slowly starts to breathe more regularly.
Re: Cw: child death mention
Gently, he tilted his head and kissed Audrey, nuzzling her and Clement. She'd been very quiet, and both deserved kisses.
Re: Cw: child death mention
Slowly, he starts to come back to himself, rubbing his face into Oscar's chest.
From where he's half suffocated himself, he says a little muffled, "thank you." For stopping when he couldn't handle any more, for being here, for coming in the first place when he'd half dragged him into the room.
He turns his head, cheek against his chest with a sigh, "I keep waiting for you to hate me...and I'm sorry that I am. I don't think I can help it. I- I hate myself, most days." Especially when there is more that Oscar could hate him for that he hasn't touched.
Re: Cw: child death mention
He hummed, gently stroking his hair, after giving him a tight squeeze and release.
"You're welcome." His voice was quiet. "I...don't want to hate you. But I am aware we are both flawed. And I'm not looking at you with blinders on. I know you're an asshole."
He mostly said it to make Varker laugh.
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"But I'm your asshole, Mm?"
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"I'd certainly hope so." And he leaned down awkwardly to offer a gentle head kiss.
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He tries to let the scent of the candle help soothe him the rest of the way down, lifting his head just so to press little kisses along his jaw, his beard tickling his nose.
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"I'd certainly hope so." His voice was warm. "It flows better then my soup kitchen supervisor, or something similar."
Goodness,what distracting kisses. He tilted his head back, offering more skin.
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The mention of his charitable work brings a hard topic back to the surface though, distracting himself a moment longer by kissing a line down the column of his exposed throat. But that's enough stalling. His nose and mouth rest against his neck, absently giving him kisses as he speaks.
"Oscar... do you think I should finish it? Ellie's cure." He can't remember if he'd even said he'd been working on it, but cats out of the bag now.
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He still had to clear his throat.
"Ellie's cure? Oh yes, darling. You should. Um. What cure?"
Sorry Clement, he is trying to be supportive but the touches were distracting.
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"She was an immune carrier of a fungal zombie virus." Which he's sure wasn't public knowledge, but she was dead, he didn't feel all that bad about telling Oscar.
"We were working on developing a cure, Oscar. It's why I asked Norton for my lab back."
no subject
"Zombie virus." He said carefully. He had heard of zombies before, but the idea that they could be transmitted from a virus...he needed to think of that a little more. Though it was a little hard with his throat being kissed like that.
"You and her. A cure." He nodded, carefully, so he wouldn't bump into Clem or Audrey. "I- didn't know. I didn't know, but-you said it should take you a year? What would be the best way to send over the cure, spread it?"