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Willas can’t focus, and the letters all mix, making on huge ball of ink. Grading papers at 3 AM didn’t sound like a good idea at first, but now seems even worse. The weather is turning outside, the constant rain finally giving a break, and he expects to be a warm sunlight in the morning. However, he is too busy to worry about that.
Oberyn came back from King’s Landing, broken leg arm and a handful of ribs. Ellaria was kind enough to let him know. (Willas was never sure of where she stood in regards of their relationship, and never had the courage to ask).
“He’s been asking of you,” she had said to him, making his heart beat faster. He felt stupid for still caring about these little things. It had been eighteen years now, and every time Oberyn showed a hint of emotion, his heart raced.
He still felt Oberyn was too cool for him.
Like in high school, when Oberyn passed him, with his senior friends, in a leather jacket and sunglasses, and a cigarette in his fingers. (He had convinced him on dropping that one two years after his own graduation). Or when he stopped by the Tyrells in his bike. The way he was always so nice to everyone when Willas’ family was around for birthdays barbecues. It was ridiculous how comfortable he seemed at every place he went.
“I’ll stop by tomorrow” he promised, whispering back at her.
It was the end of the afternoon, when he entered Oberyn’s room. Carrying balloons, with those cheesy happy messages, right before the visiting hours were over.
“You look stupid” Oberyn mocked, “Carrying these things” he pointed a finger covered in bandages.
“You look like a wreck” Willas sat by the bed and considered holding his hand.
“I am glad you are here.”
Willas knew about all those fights Oberyn always got into when he was to the capital, many times he was the one carrying him back to Dorne. However, this time he seemed worse.
“I am glad you are alive”
Later he found out Oberyn was actually the hero, bringing down, bare hands, a man who was attacking a lady in a corner. He never felt that proud of his friend.
When Willas was leaving, he considered giving the man a kiss, but wondered if it wouldn’t be too much. If there was, something he hated about their unspoken relationship was the unmarked boundaries. He never knew what was okay or not. That night Willas fell asleep thinking of Oberyn.
“Can you walk?” he asked, holding the hospital door, as Oberyn stood up from his wheelchair.
“Of course I can” he grabbed the crutches and stood leaning on them. “That was the pointing of taking that damn thing away,” he pointed at his leg, who looked pale and thin without the cast what was there for weeks.
“At least I am not the only one limping now” Willas smile as he watched the dornishman limping all the day to the car.
Willas was sixteen and Oberyn was home for summer vacation from college. He stopped at his door in the motorcycle again, and everything was the same as usual. Until they were turning away on the road, the trail of blood leading to them. Oberyn got out with barely a scratch, but Willas only woke two days later, in intense pain and a bad leg.
(If stares could kill, Mace’s would have ended Oberyn as they all sat in the plain white waiting room of the hospital. Garlan was the only one who showed some compassion to the poor dornish.)
“I don’t want to go home,” Oberyn, blurted as soon as the car doors were closed. “It’s empty and lonely. The girls are all away and I don’t want to be alone,” he explained, simply as usual. He never held secrets from Willas.
“Okay.” He tapped the steering wheel, considering where they should go. His house wasn’t an option either. Not when Sansa’s presence was so palpable. He ignored that they were literally just out of a hospital, there was heavy painkillers involved and that it was one of the most reckless things he had ever done. But it was all worth it, because of the way Oberyn’s face lighted. “Do you want to grab a beer?”
“I have a girlfriend,” Willas told him, after the third or fourth beer. He had been building up to that point since they got there.
Oberyn seemed genuinely interested “How is she?”
“Adorable. And one of my students” Willas chuckled, remembering waking up by her side, both of them freaking out because their situation was hardly ideal. “I think I might come to love her.” He confessed.
“Damn, Tyrell, I’ve been away for what, a few months and you suddenly are in love?” he mocked, smiling.
“It’s been seven months, Oberyn” Willas reminded him, taking a sip of his beer.
“It... doesn’t feel so long” he considered it for a second, “It’s just been crazy. Everything else, I mean. The girls, the company, Ellaria, travelling, my siblings, and my mom is sick…” he could easily go on, on everything that life had put between them.
“I know” he nodded, looking much wiser than he was.
“It’s not as easy, is it?” he said after a second of silence. “It’s not just two stupid teenagers making out and entering houses through windows, because their parents would be angry if they knew”
Mace was always the worst one, always complaining about Oberyn’s constant presence at their house. There wasn’t a week when he wasn’t there for dinner, or tea, or to drive Margaery somewhere, or deliver something to Garlan. So after a while it got too obvious that he was there for the eldest son, then sneaking was the next step.
Willas would climb down from his window, and then they’d make out inside Oberyn’s car, before laying out on the grass to watch the stars. Willas was a romantic, so he was always the one planning out picnics, and one night travels to nearby cities (like that one time they ran away to Old Town and pretended to be a couple of foreigners who didn’t understood the concept of private demonstration of affection), and Oberyn sighed and grinned, but saying yes in the end.
And after that accident, Willas would sneak the other in, shushing him along the process, endless warnings and threats that turn to kisses as soon as they were both safely inside. Usually they spent the rest of the night, naked under the covers, with Willas sleeping on Oberyn’s chest. (More than rarely, Oberyn was awake and watching Willas pale face flushed when he was asleep and how his hair was always greasy at the end of the night. He adored every little detail that he gathered along the years). But all of that was too long gone.
“We’re adults now. It’s complicated” Willas shrugged. It had been a while it was like that.
Their little escapades diminished as Obara was born, when Oberyn was twenty-one. Soon after that, Nymeria, and then he was a father of two. They still saw each other on the weekends.
But Willas went to college, and met Arianne Martell, and lived the most intense six weeks of his life, before she decided that he had the soul of an old man, and dumped him for Edmure Tully.
And it only got harder after that. Tyene was born. Willas graduated and applied for a Master’s Degree. He spent more and more time in the university, while Oberyn spent more and more time with his daughters.
“I don’t think we can go back to our old selves for a night, can we?” the dornish took a big gulp of beer, shaking his head, disappointed. “It’s okay. We can deal with that” he nodded, sure of himself.
“Yes. Yes we can” Willas nodded along, agreeing.
That night they had sex like they hadn’t since they were teenagers. It wasn’t rushed; there wasn’t the threat of any parent behind the door, no curious eyes looking from the window. Willas kissed Oberyn gently, feeling the stubble of the dark beard against his chin, probably leaving a mark. Feeling the heat of Oberyn’s body against his, the smell of leather and beer, and what he supposed was cigarettes again. But this time, he didn’t said anything.
And after that, they never did it again.
It was like a silent agreement of a goodbye.
They still saw each other every now and then, exchanging friendly words at one party or the other. But never alone again. Sometimes with Sansa Stark looking excited to meet her fiancé’s oldest friend (Willas had told her most of their story, only leaving out the few things that was too personal for everyone else to know), staring at them like they were the type of people they wrote stories about. Other times with Four-year-old Tyene Martell on her father’s arm, almost jumping on Willas’ lap on most of the occasions.
Often, Oberyn would remember how simple it was it all, until life made everything complicated. He missed those times, wondering how their life was going to be if they had stood up and just started to date, instead of messing around when no one was looking.
Willas had the same thoughts.
In the end, the only difference between them it was that Willas woke up to a head of red hair by his side, and Oberyn to Ellaria pushing him out of the bed, to pick up the crying baby in the room next door. And yet, both of them were completely happy with the life they had.