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5 times Mike and Oliver stumbled upon each other and the 1 time it went somewhere

Summary:

The man, who Oliver still didn't know the name of, rushed past him without another word, leaving the taller standing alone on the Sidewalk.

Damn it, he was pretty.

Shame.

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Aka 5 times where Oliver Banks fumbled like a fucking moron and the 1 time Mike Crew was abnormal enough to ask him on a date.

Work Text:

1

A gentle breeze hit Oliver's back as he slowly marched down the streets of London. He had desperately needed a breather — the shop was, well. It was never crowded so to speak. But today, it had a lot more people than he had gotten used to, and with the roots and all,

A walk never hurt anyone. It definitely couldn't hurt him.

Dark brown eyes glanced over the warm autumn scenery, oranges and yellows melting into a chocolate brown. He'd always enjoyed Fall. It was the perfect weather, it didn't rain as much but still just enough for it to be cozy, it was pleasant.

Well, apart from the worrying amount of roots at this time of year — he wouldn't let them ruin anything else for him, though.

Oliver's head fell to look at his feet instead, focusing on the steps he took as he rounded the corner and—

Ah.

Well.

He noticed the other way too late, stumbling into them as he gasped. The individual dropped something. though he wasn't sure what it was, it had made a loud thud as it hit the ground.

There was a pause before Oliver shuffled back to properly stand on his feet, bending down to grab what had fallen as the man he'd ran into regained their senses.

He picked up the heavy book, examining it as he handed it back. It was a dark green, with golden writing on the front. He didn't have time to decipher it, though he was sure it wasn't English.

He examined the man he'd ran into next — a short, dirty blonde man, with pristine clothes who made them look like they were floating. They harbored what could only be described as a lichtenberg scar, spiraling and twisting and snapping over the man's face, covering the right side with a strike of patterns Oliver swore he could see glow in the shade of the buildings surrounding them.

He tried his best not to stare at it, though in his eyes, it was beautiful.

“ Thank you, “ the shorter finally spoke, gently grasping the book from Oliver's hands as he nodded. “ Sorry, I didn't see you there. In a bit of a rush, yeah? “

A nod.

Good christ, Oliver, speak.

“ It's no problem. I wasn't paying attention either. Ah, I'm not keeping you, am I? “

A nervous chuckle. The shorter didn't reply, staring silently as if he expected something to happen.

Did he have something on his face? His head tilted slightly. “ are you alright? “

He felt like the blonde man could feel something he couldn't. Like when he could see the roots, but deeper? Somehow? He wasn't looking at him, he was looking at something closer to the core of his being.

The man, who Oliver still didn't know the name of, rushed past him without another word, leaving the taller standing alone on the Sidewalk.

Damn it, he was pretty.

Shame.

2

It'd been a few days now.

Oliver was on his shift. Pretty slow day, so to speak — though it'd always been slow. His chosen place of work had never been quite busy. While that wasn't the only reason he worked here ( crystals and tarot cards fascinated him, if nothing else ), it was definitely a plus. The less people he had to witness the gruesome death of, the happier he was.

Though, since there had been no customers, as usual on lunch hour, he'd been lost in thought for a while.

He'd caught himself thinking about the stranger in the streets more than thrice now, and it was beginning to get annoying.

Sure, he was pretty. What else could he possibly be attracted to? He didn't know the man, for God's sake. For all Oliver knew he could be a terrible person.

A low grumble escaped his lips as he continued rearranging the many books on the shelf, mindlessly reading their titles.

He heard the chimes of the door ringing, and glanced at the empty counter to make sure he was close enough to it before trying to track the individual who had came in.

Oh.

It was the shorter man he'd seen before.

Oliver's breath caught in his throat as he turned back around to face the bookshelf, continuing to organize, ignoring the heartbeat in his ears and the flush on his face.

Did the heartbreak hit that hard? Jesus Fuck.

He pulled out a book to switch its place before a small thud was heard and the customer spoke gently.

“ Do you sell any books here? Or are they just for show? “

Oliver paused. He could feel the man's eyes on him as he stood still, book he held still halfway on the shelf. He tried to gain his composure, make a decent second impression.

“ It's okay if you don't, I didn't mean to str— “

“ We do. “ he gulped out, still turned away from the shorter. “ You can just, come look at them, “ he added, finally shoving himself backwards and spinning on his heels so the other would have space to walk in.

“ Oh! You're the um, the guy. From the sidewalk, ay? Thank you. “

He didn't reply, he knew he didn't need to. The man's glare dug into him again as he spoke once more.

“ What's your name? “

Oliver was certain that his heart would crawl out of his throat. “ It's Oliver, “ he choked out. “ Oliver Banks. “

A nod from the shorter. “ I'm Michael Crew. Mike works, though. “

The man finally had a name attached to his face. Mike. It suited him, he thought. He shuffled himself behind the counter and waited for the customer to drag a book he liked back with him. Maybe he could ask for his number, invite him on a date. Get to know him. See if he was a murderer or something.

Though, to his dismay, Mike had already dragged himself back out the door with no books in hand.

He didn't even say bye. Oliver must have messed it up again.

Fucking hell.

3

Oliver slowly pressed his index to the brim of the teacup he'd been sipping on for the last few minutes, focusing on the slight sound it made as he rubbed around the edge.

It'd been a few weeks since he'd last seen Mike. The roots had gotten worse, and though he was sure it definitely wasn't his fault, it felt like it'd be much better if they'd actually gotten to know each other.

He hadn't experienced much romantic attraction after Graham. They'd been together for 6 years, so obviously, the breakup hit as hard as everything else, and then the Nightmares made It hard for him to socialize, and then the whole prophetic visions of death thing made it a lot worst.

Long story short, Mike was a pleasant surprise. He felt drawn to him, surely — Like an endless and vast height beckoning to be plunged into. A fall.

A hum escaped Oliver's lips as he tried to make sense of all of this, watching the rain hit the windows of the Café he'd taken refuge in while waiting for the storm to pass. Getting wet was not in his plans for today.

What also wasn't in his plans for today was watching Mike, the man he'd talked to a total of twice, stumble into the same Café, drenched from head to toe in rain water.

He looked panicked, a stressed look on his face as he looked around for a reason to be in here.

Oliver called out to him accompanied with a wave, in an attempt to give him one. The shorter nodded and rushed to sit down at the same table.

“ Are you alright? You're drenched, “ he hummed in a half-joking tone, trying to get the mood up — Mike didn't reply, simply bringing a hand to the scarred pattern on his face and rubbing it gently. It was definitely glowing.

“ Not a fan of storms? Me neither. “ he reassured, not expecting an answer anymore.

The taller watched silently as the other shifted, bringing his feet up on the chair and pressing his knees against his chest. He was definitely worried, but he wasn't sure there was anything he could do, and he had a feeling Mike didn't want to make a big deal of it. Not here. Not now.

So Oliver did the one thing he knew he could realistically do, which was order more tea. One for himself, and one for Mike, who looked appreciative despite the pained expression plastered on his face.

They didn't say much else. The silence wasn't awkward, though — It was comfortable, in a way he didn't quite know how to describe. They were both waiting for the Storm to End.

And then Mike was gone, without a word, slipping away once again. Oliver didn't mind. He understood.

He really did.

4

Oliver was stalling, honestly.

The roots had definitely gotten worse. It'd been that way for a bit.

He tried his best to avoid looking too hard, but the cashier at Good Energies was going to die, and it wasn't going to be pretty. And he was supposed to keep it to himself? Jesus Christ.

A grumble is all he let out as he kept his eyes focused on the shelves, hovering over different types of crystals, picking ones he liked and gently holding them in his hands. Oliver hummed, examining them, trying to mentally prepare to walk up to the counter, when he was hit by a familiar smell.

Like, dew, almost? Was it about to rain? It didn't look like it.

And then his eyes met with Mike's, who was standing surprisingly close to him. That was why.

The shorter glared through him again, like he could feel the fear in him. It felt strange. He didn't mind anymore.

“ Can I help you, dear stranger? “ he hummed jokingly, pleased by the grin Mike returned him.

“ Are you okay? “ the question stunned Oliver, but he nodded anxiously, giving him a smile. “ Peachy. “ It was a lie. Mike knew it was a lie, too, but he simply gave him a thumbs up.

Oliver opened his mouth to speak, to have small-talk, stall longer, but the blonde was already on the opposite side of the shop when he looked back.

He sighed loudly, dragging himself to the front of the store and slowly set the crystals he'd grabbed on the Counter, trying to avoid staring at the cashier, who's name he could read — Jane Prentiss. He hoped he wouldn't have to hear it again, especially not on the news.

Jane's confused eyes met his sorrowful ones as she handed him the bag, but he said nothing. What was there to say?

He hummed a thank you and dragged himself out of the shop, inhaling deeply.

“ You felt it too, yeah? “ Oliver flinched at the words, looking around to meet Mike's eyes once again. “ Were you waiting for me to leave?? “

The shorter answered with a shrug, waiting for a reply to his question.

“ Felt what? “ he gulped out, and Mike sighed. “ Nevermind. Forget it. “ the blonde man turned on his heels and walked away once again, leaving Oliver to stand lone in front of the shop. He could feel Jane's glare on his neck, so he decided to get back to his flat.

What a weird guy.

5

Was it this boring, usually?

Surely it wasn't. Surely it was because he was waiting for his shift to end.

One of his last ones, at that. Only a week left, and then he'd be moving to the countryside, away from the city, away from the people. Maybe that'd help with the dreams.

He could practically feel the eyebags he sported as his glare followed any immediate movement, more out of Instinctual boredom than anything else.

Customers walking in, looking at things, picking up one or two items. The leaves of the trees outside gently shaking in the autumn breeze. Anything to occupy his vision as his train of thought gained speed, like a little hamster running inside its wheel.

His aforementioned train of thought was interrupted as one of the customers — a short, brunette lady, who's throat was being grasped tightly by one of the Roots — walked up to him and set a few items on the counter. He looked at her with an expression that could only be described as Guilt, and she looked back at him with a nervous smile. Oliver nodded and let her pay, relaxing as she walked out of the store.

“ are you good? “ the words made him jump, grumbling as he locked glares with Mike once more.

“ Are you always going to do this? “ Oliver growled under his breath. “ Yeah. It's funny, “ replied the shorter, a grin on his face as he watched the other cross his arms.

“ Why are you here? “

There was a pause as the dark haired man examined Mike's features, watching his scar flicker slightly in the sunbeam. It was beautiful.

“ Wanted to uh, repay. I guess. “ there was a stutter in his voice Oliver hadn't heard before as he handed him a thermos. “ It's tea. As a thank you. “

Oliver could throw up from sheer excitement right about now.

He grasped the heavy container, giving Mike a nod as he did so. “ I appreciate it. A lot, actually. More than you might think. “

“ Don't mention it, Oliver. “

And with that, he slipped out again. No goodbye.

Hopefully he'd get to see him before he left.

+1

Dizziness hit him as soon as he realized where the hell he was. He tried recounting the events in his mind as the cold of the sea slowly enveloped his body.

He grasped at the first piece of debris that floated towards him — a chunk of metal. It definitely wouldn't get him far and would most likely sink after a few minutes of pressure, but he could try to get away from the sinking boat.

As he slowly pushed himself, holding onto the debris to make breathing easier, he tried remembering what had happened.

He'd stolen someone's identity. He could not recall their name, but he knew they were dead now. They'd been dead before all of this.

He'd spent multiple months on this boat. Multiple months of peaceful, dreamless sleep, which he knew he would no longer get, if he was even going to get back to shore.

Then, the roots appeared again. And they were on him too.

And then something hit the ship. And now he was here.

And he wasn't dead. At least it didn't feel like he was, he could feel everything. And it all hurt.

He could feel the sheet of metal sink slowly under the weight of his upper torso as he whined, laying flat on top of it. He was so tired already.

And then he heard one voice, and then another, and then his name being yelled.

Was that..?

“ Oh, Jesus Christ. “ It was definitely Mike, and someone else who he didn't recognize. And they were, floating? Somehow, that was the least of his concerns at the moment.

The blonde gently settled himself on the metal sheet which Oliver was laying on, making the weight shift only slightly — How light was this fucker?

“ Oliver? Are you still, like, sentient? At all? “ a hum escaped his lips as a response. He wasn't sure he could muster up actual words right now.

“ Sweet. You wanna get tea later? “

The question hanged in the air for a moment as Oliver slowly raised his head up, trying to make sense of the implications of that question.

“ Are you asking me on a date? Right now? Out of any time we've seen each other, you choose this one as the proper one? “

A pause.

“ Yes. I would like that. “

The sheer excitement coursing through Mike's body made him jump up, effectively making the weight on the metal sheet shift and dunking Oliver's face straight into the cold, salty water.

It was a date.

Dear God, he needed new clothes.