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“You know Jake knows when you call, right? So kill him, not me.” Oscar giggles as one does when embarrassing their co-worker. With a few glances, he’d assume this was supposed to be a living room… but it wasn’t quite living. The room didn’t look like it was used or even looked at all that much. He opts to keep his shoes on (as one does after noticing a broken bottle by the only side table present).
“Why so quiet? Realising you’re my strangest freak by far?" For all the weird people who came by him, he'd never had someone use his work line for a casual event. That wasn’t what his service was for … But here he was. Matt gestures around his home.
"I just didn’t think I’d ever have company.” When Matt invited him out, Oscar had asked to hang at his house. Matt relented, and, well, he understood the reluctance; the place looked like someone could’ve probably claimed squatter’s rights. Respectfully, of course; is there a respectful way to say someone’s house looks decrepit and abandoned? It more so looked like Matt wasn't expecting himself to be here. "I don’t know why you chose here… We could see a movie literally anywhere else.”
"You can’t talk at movie theatres. Do you even know me, babe?” He pretends he wasn’t mentally insulting Matt’s residence as he sneaks behind him to hug onto his waist, nestling his head on his shoulder. Remaining rays of sun flit through the blinds, showing off the dust on the floor and in the air. That alone makes him need to cough. Matt gestures to the hall, telling his guest that there’s a TV in his room.
“And you’re sure this isn’t–”
“Yes.”
“Relax, princess. I’m just teasing.” Isn’t he always? Matt rolls his eyes and grabs Oscar’s hand, leading him down the empty hall. To Oscar’s surprise, his room actually has life in it: decor, more than just one or two pieces of furniture, and glowing stars on the ceiling. There’s even a mini fridge on the bottom shelf of a bookcase. The aforementioned TV is mounted a bit above a vanity of sorts, though the vanity’s mirror seems to have shattered.
“Take your shoes off. Don’t want them on my bed.”
“Are there glass shards in here?”
“Nah. I actually like my room.” That piqued Oscar’s curiosity.
“And not the rest of your house?” That would satisfy quite a few of Oscar’s questions immediately, but Matt seems more interested in finding the remote than answering him. Hmm. Atop the dresser, Oscar notices a familiar weathered backpack, bent in on itself in an odd shape.
“You brought that to the hotel.” Matt hums in agreement. There’s something sticking out from under it, so he moves to investigate. The contents aren't his interest, so he ignores the warning not to open it. Ah! It’s the missing remote. His reward is getting to pick the movie; Matt had to take his shoes off anyways, and, unlike Oscar’s, they needed to be untied.
“Not particularly. It was my parent’s. I just inherited it.” He finally gets his answer now that the remote is found. So the lack of upkeep was related to his parents, ah? … Matt’s a Freddy’s worker alright… Oscar nods and selects a movie he found interesting to help move the topic along; a mystery movie to Matt’s intrigue. “You didn’t strike me as the type to like mysteries.”
“I like you, don’t I?” The statement makes Matt pause before joining him on the bed. “Mysteries are usually hiding something interesting. Why else hide it, ya know? That’s all.”
“Is that supposed to say something about me?” The space between them shrinks.
“Mm, maybe. So, why’s the mirror shattered? Ain’t that bad luck?” Matt wasn’t one for the superstitious. Though, he considered on occasion that perhaps he should be. Light glints off the cracked mirror as if acknowledging the mention of it.
“You ever heard the phrase ‘Curiosity Killed the Cat’?” At another point in time, Oscar may have been intimidated by vague threats like that. But now, he just smiles.
“Guess it’s good I’m a fox, huh? Besides, ‘Satisfaction brought him back’, right?” Oscar uses a finger to have Matt look at him. With half-lidded eyes, he tacks on “I can certainly satisfy.” … And then he bursts out laughing.
“You’re so gross, Ozzy.” And yet, he leans onto him. “Mm, the mirror kinda just shattered one day when I passed it. Must’ve bumped it or something.” When Oscar wraps an arm around him, he sits back up, reclaiming his personal space. His chest feels weird, all warm and jittery… He takes one of Oscar’s hands instead.
“I like your stars, by the way. They’re pretty.” Matt glances up at them, tracing constellations with his eyes. They’re as accurate to a portion of the sky as he can make it with the limited space.
“Thanks. They, uh… They help me sleep.” Any questions Oscar has about that go unanswered. As the movie continues, Oscar only has more: why'd he start making bracelets (He thought Oscar would like them), why does he work at Freddy's if he has a more lucrative job (It's… apparently a ‘good location’), what is that lucrative business (None of Oscar’s business), what's his thoughts on Jack (Neutral. It seemed to hate him, but it also offered him a job), what, why, and how…
"Can I ask you a question?" Oscar nods enthusiastically. "Am I really that interesting? Or do you need this information for something?"
“Like I said, I like my mysteries.” His mystery, huh…? Matt’s grin softens. If it made Oscar happy, he could try to be the diary kind of book. Then again…
“And what happens when you've learned everything? When I’m not ‘a mystery’ anymore?” Oscar feels Matt’s grip tighten slightly, but it didn’t take much ‘getting to know’ him to know he wouldn’t talk about it.
“I’d be really lucky if you let that happen,” he reassures, brushing his thumb over his knuckles. With no point in trying, he hazards a guess. “I get it, man. I’m just saying though; unless you’re the guy behind the missing children’s incidents, I’m still gonna love you.” Matt snickers at that, asking if he knows Jack and its boyfriend were behind those.
“What?! How the hell did that creepy, child murdering corpse get a boyfriend before me?” That makes him laugh harder. Jesus, okay; Matt eventually got to a point where he’d gotten more comfortable complimenting Oscar in more ways than just appearance, and his new favourite was his laugh. But Matt’s–! …Oscar wished he laughed more. “Honestly, though. I would’ve bet you got a boyfriend before it ever did.”
“You are not a gambling man, are you?” Tsk. Sure, gambling isn’t the sin he’s versed in, but that didn’t mean it was an unreasonable bet. Especially when– Whatever… More time, more movie unwatched, more questions asked.
“What’s your favourite movie? We should watch it after this.” Matt struggles for an answer before giving up and shrugging; he hasn’t watched many. “Really? I had, like… Family movie nights as a kid."
“Did your family talk over them too?” Oscar nods; his mums loved laughing at horror movies, dad loved to discuss how chick-flick romances were terrible, and his siblings covered every part of actors and animation movies. Take a good guess on his personal specialty.
“What about yours?” There’s no answer, so Oscar alters his words. “Sorry. I meant… Did you do anything cool with your family?”
“No. Church is all we ever did.” That’s what Oscar’s looking for; baffling, un-guessable secrets and backgrounds. Best of all, only he gets to know.
“Ah. And you didn’t strike me as religious.” Probably for a reason; Matt takes a breath and presses a finger to his temple like he was staving off a headache.
“Cause I’m not. My parents were.” There it is again – the tightening of his grasp. He returns the squeeze before lightly pushing Matt off the dark cyan covers. Matt doesn't seem thrilled to be moved. Once out of the way, Oscar moves to the centre and pats the spot between his legs. Matt freezes before snapping into response somehow unnaturally; “And you’re sure this isn’t–”
“Do you want your spot back, or are you going to sit down?” Not wanting to stand, he accepts. Technically, he wasn't sitting, he was laying with his head on Oscar's stomach. Tentative fingers intertwine with his hair, relaxing when Matt seems fine with it.
“You mirror me sometimes,” he notes. Matt hums again.
“It makes talking to you easier.” No guesses, no assumptions. Oscar has to remind himself of it as he carefully asks what he means. Matt shifts, arms holding himself. “I haven’t had a lot of friends is all.”
“You’re too far down to kiss your head. It’s annoying.” That’s not really true, but the topic changes as Matt stumbles and trips on a reply. Twirling another piece of hair, Oscar takes the chance to do what he does best; “Could I actually?” But Matt doesn’t get uncomfortably flustered or annoyed this time. As I'm still gonna love you rings in his head, he’s just confused.
“Do you want to?”
“You can’t tease me back. That’s not how this works.” He chooses to ignore the genuine question, then ruffles Matt’s hair; “Took you long enough to get comfy though.”
“Wouldn’t claim that,” he concedes, whacking Oscar’s hand away. “I think I’d only be comfortable if you were a customer. That’s my normal.” A character on screen discovers a body, reminding him to reconsider. “Sometimes they try to kill me though, so…”
“Hhholy shit… Is that what that scar was about?” His left hand moves from Matt’s hair down to his chest, slipping under the collar of his shirt. He can feel the thump, thump, thump under his fingertips get faster as Matt fidgets at the intrusion. “I didn’t want to ask about it before, but if you would…”
“Oh, someone tried to get out of paying.” When asked if they succeeded, he scoffs. “I don’t get shorted. They can pay me, or I can leave them to Hamal."
“Who’s Hamal?” Matt shrugs.
“Ehh…” A hitman… An arbitrator of sorts… One could call zem, “…A peacekeeper." Oscar's nondominant takes over fussing with his wavy hair. A comfortable silence falls upon them, but hell as if they were truly watching the movie anyways; it was too far in to catch up on it. Matt breaks it, “Your turn.”
“For?”
“You keep asking me things. Talk about yourself.” Hearts are traced lightly and idly into scar tissue, and he’s kinda surprised Matt hasn’t stopped him. Hmm… What does he wanna know?
“I don’t think I’m nearly as interesting as you.” Matt’s real smile is back again. And it hasn’t left for a while. That had to be one of the dumbest things Oscar took pride in. No, not dumb… Just small.
“I don’t know about that. Like… Hm. Why do you like that fursuit so much?” He gasps like he was waiting for a chance to talk about it. Unfortunately, that gasp came with grabbing onto his hair, making Matt hiss and bat at his hands again.
“Sorry– Sorry!!" The hair is smoothed down apologetically. "Do you know how expensive fursuits are? My fursona is a fox! It don’t look like that, but free is free, doll.”
“Did you really start stripping so you could have a free fursuit?” Oscar quickly denies that. The real reason ironically makes him more sheepish.
“It’s also not a happy story.”
“Oh. … Does it have a good ending?” Oscar sighs, content.
“Yeah.” The hearts reappear over Matt’s, "Yeah, it does.” Words play back in Matt's head again with more force, and each heart feels burned into him. He lightly places his hand over Oscar's… but then says nothing.
“Problem?” Still silent. “Aw, what? Cat got your tongue?”
“A fox, actually.” Oscar’s hand jerks out from under his, laughing even though Matt hadn't meant to be funny. He waits for the laughter to die, feels the lines of thread that culminate his shirt as he straightens it back out, makes estimates in his head for the thread count. Anything to avoid talking before he has to. It only delays the inevitable; “I– … You make it difficult for me to figure out what casual is.”
"I get that a lot." The two were opposites in many respects; Oscar was so open, it was hard to tell where to stop. On the other hand, Matt was so cagey, starting was harder. Though, Oscar liked to believe he had leeway somehow, that if it was anyone else, they'd be at the end of the barrel by now.
"I think…" Oscar can nearly hear the metal rattling as Matt tries to gather his thoughts. But the gate doesn’t budge. Or perhaps it does and the issue is the lock… Whatever the metaphorical issue, he backs down; "You should keep talking."
“I think…” Oscar kisses his head, if only to pause like he had, “You’re avoiding an important conversation.” Matt looks up, dark eyes reflecting Oscar's image as he looks through him. Oscar looks at him in return.
“It's your turn to talk. We’ll get back to it,” he insists, glancing to the side. For holding his ground, he's doing it fairly weakly.
“Promise?” Tsk. Promise. Who does he think he’s talking to? Certainly not a well established criminal.
“Promise.” … Oscar liked to believe he had leeway because he did.
"Good. Then, let's see… I started making bracelets a little before my lil sibling came out. I was trying out, like, 'fem' things in case it helped them feel better." He turns one — Matt recognises it as the first bracelet he gave him — in circles around his wrist just to busy his hands.
"Turns out. I liked the bracelets. And the nail polish. And all sorts of stuff. So I’m glad I tried it.” Matt closes his eyes, not bothering to hide how he's not watching the movie. Who could blame him?
“How’d you’d end up at Freddy’s?” There’s a question. Freddy’s was kinda like prison, honestly. Workers didn’t want to come; they had to be there. But at the very least, Jack hadn’t bothered with the contract shit.
“So you want sad stories, ah?” Oscar only half jokes. Matt shrugs, telling him he doesn’t have to answer. “To be fair, I genuinely think I’m the happiest employee they got.”
“And that means?”
“What does ‘it's a good location’ mean?”
“Touché.” Oscar ends up actually not answering him, only telling him that he’s working there happily now.
“Hmm. I’ve had an apartment since I was eighteen. I should invite you over. Let you interrogate me instead.” Matt asks if it's decorated. That one had to actually be a joke rather than an accident. “Yeah, yeah,” he giggles. “I’m not weird like you.”
“Then there’ll be tons to ask about.” Oscar nods.
“You can ask about anything. Just stay out of my closet.” He doesn’t question it. Oscar can’t tell if that’s relieving or boring. Then again, with all the things Matt’s keeping from him, he’s likely assuming the worst. “Not that it has anything illegal.”
“I didn’t ask.” It’s not supposed to be rude. They both understand that, so neither acknowledges it.
“I know. You criminal.”
“Talk more about your family," Matt requests as he runs his thumb over the bracelets on his own wrist.
“What about them?” He was more curious on the why, but he wouldn't ask that just in case. Either way, he gets no response, so he keeps talking. “I’m the oldest of my siblings, and my sister is the youngest. So it’s me, Oleander, and Olivia.” He spins another bracelet. This one is well worn, like one tug would snap it off. “And–”
“Where’s that one from?”
“Oh! Uh, it’s the first one I made at all. Via helped me with it. It’s Oli’s favourite colours.” Grey and… brownish yellow. “White and pale yellow; it’s just old is all.” Ah, yes. Because they'll degrade and fall off before he'll willingly remove them.
“You get one more question before I start hounding you about being avoidant,” he warns. Matt leaves to inspect his window, as you do when you're still being avoidant. The sun is dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in various lovely shades. Stars would appear soon enough, but, until then, Matt goes back to his spot.
“You should–” He corrects himself, rephrasing it as a question. “What’s your number?”
“Ah-hah? Why do you ask, hot shot?” If the tease in his tone ever left, Matt would worry. Or be a little upset; he was starting to enjoy it.
“So I don't have to rely on Jack or the phone freak to call you.” Fair; he had complicated feelings about Matt using his work line seriously anyways. Well… Anymore than once, that is.
“Talk and it’s yours, princess.” Matt makes a show of fussing with his bracelets. “Oh, quit it. You can’t get out of it by being cute.”
“Bit egotistical to think mimicking you is cute, isn’t it?” Oscar pushes his head lightly to show he isn’t amused. Or, well, he is, but he’s also determined to get an answer. “It’s really nothing. I just am… struggling with… boundaries and labels.” And then he stops talking. Oscar waits for him to detail what he means, but he doesn’t.
“That’s it? I can’t read minds, baby.” His hand returns to tracing hearts, less idle this time as he baits a reaction. Low and behold, Matt presses his hand down again.
“That. I'm already not good at people, let alone friends… But you don't exactly fit the image of friend.” Oscar tries to retract his hand, but Matt holds it in place.
“Why not?”
“For one, you flirt with me every chance you get,” Matt starts. Oscar rebuttals; that was just his personality. He did that to everyone.
“You kissed me today.” On the head. That’s not a big deal.
“You call me cute nicknames…” They’re just that; cute.
“You insist on touching, hugging, and cuddling me. Like now.” Okay, hey now…
“You're literally holding my hand." Oscar tries to move, and Matt proves his point. "And I distinctly remember you asking me to cuddle with you wh–” Matt glares up at him, making him shut up; he's rarely scary to him anymore, but he still knows when he's serious.
“But point taken… My boundaries are a little loose. That means you gotta talk to me about yours. Ya know, there is a middle ground between being silent and threatening to kill people.” Matt huffs; as if he didn’t know that. It was just hard. All of it.
"I don’t– Look, it’s just strange. To go from being so alone to so… with you. It's a lot. Does… that make sense?” Matt releases his hand. Oscar runs it down his arm instead, stopping at his elbow.
“Yeah, I get it, princess…” He taps his finger a few times. “Do you want me to stop?” Matt shakes his head, and Oscar holds him closer. “Then you need to talk to me, mkay?"
“I like this…” The confession is near silent. “It's hard to do, but I'm never upset about it."
"Why is it hard?" One could tell he's serious because he doesn't make an innuendo when he easily could. Matt looks off into the hallway; the empty rooms look back at him.
"I don't know. Like I said, this is all new for me. What more do you want?" Oscar sighs. For him to not be dense? For clear answers? For…
"Do you love me? That's what I want, to know that." And every second after feels like an eternity. This was Oscar's 'new'. He was coquettish, but it was always a joke. He made it a joke, no matter how he felt. But he started to get his hopes up. Matt takes a moment like he was considering it for the first time.
"I...couldn't tell you. I don't think I've ever understood romance. That a good enough answer?” It was clear. Fine. He motions for him to grab his phone then speaks his number aloud, assuming (correctly) Matt wouldn't even think about handing it over to him.
"Wait!" Matt stops just before saving the contact; what? "You didn't add a photo…" He doesn't do anything for a moment… But then he sighs, opens his search engine, and downloads a picture of a fox. Once the contact is saved, the contact list is momentarily visible; Oscar’s is the only one with a proper photo. That makes him proud too. He uses that pride to talk just a little more.
"It's not… It's not weird that I like you, right?" Matt puts his phone back on the side table as he clicks his tongue; the question was ridiculous to ask.
"No, it's really weird." A newer looking bracelet catches Matt's eye, mostly because it's the only one with beads. He rolls it back and forth as he talks. "But it's nice. I'm happy about it, I think."
“So… I like you, and you like this – how we are. Am I correct?” Matt nods. “I– I’m glad. That’s good enough for me.” There's a small rumble from the mini refrigerator, but Matt pays it no mind, so neither does he. Rather, he hides his face in Matt's hair despite knowing Matt couldn't see him unless he looked up; it smells like one of those ocean shampoos.
"... Do you want to go outside?" Confused, Oscar looks up to see the credits. Oh well; he'd already guessed who the killer was a while ago. Peering out the window, he notes that it's dark. "I know. That's why I asked."
"I might have to leave soon though." Matt frowns. Er, kinda.
"I could walk you to your car. I'm going out either way, so… Might as well." Oscar asks if it's to smuggle something, and Matt simpers before correcting him; to look at stars, actually.
"Didn't strike me as into astronomy."
"I'm not really. Science was, like… my second or third favourite subject." Matt gestures to his ceiling, responding to unasked questions with previous answers. Oscar moves to gather the few things he brought, and Matt uses the time to turn off the TV (and to gently hit the mini fridge, silencing the noise). With everything in order, they head outside.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Text me whenever, mkay?"
"Hey, Ozzy?" Oscar smiles at the name. "I liked when you kissed me," he discloses slowly, as one does when they're told to communicate more but are too apprehensive to do so. Oscar laughs, more in surprise than anything malicious.
"Yeah? I liked that too." He thinks about Matt's question earlier and how he didn't answer; maybe that's what this was about. "For the record, I do want to." Matt stares at him wordlessly. It takes him a moment to understand.
“Say it,” Oscar directs. Matt looks off to the side, apparently unable to ask. Taking pity on him, Oscar instead cups his cheek and puts his forehead to his. “I love you too. See you soon.”