Chapter Text
OJ starts to blink the sleep out of his eyes, curling in a little around Paper. He loves these late mornings in bed that they can spend together.
But… wait. Paper was supposed to be making breakfast today, as he usually does. That was how their schedules usually worked. OJ got to bed at some time from late at night, and Paper left to make breakfast for the hotel early in the morning.
However, OJ didn’t want to question this. He had Paper with him. What more could an object want?
Glancing at the clock, he realizes that, shit, it’s 8:30. This is earlier than he usually gets up, especially considering the fact that he slept at, like, three the previous night. And, this was really late for Paper to be sleeping in.
He lifts his head, and OJ hears everyone outside, a cacophony of noise. Or, well, mostly Trophy.
“PAPER!” They’re screaming. “WHERE’S OUR FOOD?”
OJ glances to the side, seeing Paper unmoved. His head is tucked under his pillow, not an unusual gesture for him. However, with all the ruckus outside, he’s pretty shocked that Paper isn’t getting up.
After OJ shakes Paper a little more, the object still doesn’t wake up. Sighing, he goes to the door and opens it, looking straight at a pissed off Blueberry.
“I need my breakfast before I work out,” the small blue creature drawls.
“Are you guys helpless?” OJ demands, exhaustion battling with anger at the hotel residents deciding to annoy the two instead of making their own breakfast. “Anyone, except for those explicitly prohibited, can use the kitchen! Make your own goddamn breakfasts. Paper does so much for all of you every day, provide for yourselves for once!”
Everyone standing there either looks shocked or scared. Goo nervously scoots away, and Trophy rolls his eyes.
“Fine,” he grumbles. “I’ll get some eggs started for everyone.”
He stomps away, Cheesy following close behind, and OJ slams the door shut on everyone else. Slowly, OJ crawls back on the bed, lifting the pillow off of Paper’s head. “Paper…?” he whispers. “Papie-pie?”
The flat sheet of paper is lying face down which… Paper never does. OJ puts his hands on Paper’s edges and flips him over.
Aaand, fuck. One of his eyes has that glossy red tint that still haunts OJ’s dreams of season one.
“…Evil… Paper?” OJ whispers, removing his hands completely.
The eyes beneath him shoot open, boring into OJ’s soul. He blinks once, then shuts his eyes again.
“Wha- Evil Paper, wake back up!”
This time, Evil Paper’s eyes open slower. His mouth opens, and the voice that comes out isn’t anything like the sweet Paper OJ’s used to. Instead, it’s gruffer, scarier.
“I go by Looseleaf,” is the first thing the man says.
“Looseleaf,” OJ says slowly, letting the name roll off his tongue. “Neat name.”
“Thanks. Uh. Sorry for not getting up, I guess? I just don’t get why you force Paper to wake up so much earlier than you. Like, you guys don’t wake up nor go to sleep together. And I barely see you guys speak.”
OJ whips his head down, staring at Looseleaf. “We do speak!”
“Not as much as a married couple should. Or, at least, so I think.”
The gold ring on Looseleaf’s finger catches OJ’s eye, and he looks down at his own again. Getting married had seemed like a dream to OJ at the time. And it still was. It was after Paper’d gotten eliminated from season 4, and everything had been calming down.
OJ had known he’d been ignoring Paper. But instead of talking it out like civilized object beings, he’d proposed.
It was so much fun. Everyone being there to see them get married, all the planning, getting something done for themselves for once. But afterwards, after the honeymoon that they spent in the mansion, they’d both just gone back to work.
Neither acknowledged how much they had grown apart. They both still loved each other, and that was enough.
…or, at least it was for OJ.
“You didn’t think to ask him how his life was going, did you?” Looseleaf asks, voice a hoarse whisper.
“Why- I asked how he was doing! He could’ve told me! I would’ve listened!”
“No, you wouldn’t’ve. He’s tried many times. He feels you guys have reverted to your season two selves,” Looseleaf sits up on the bed, face-to-face with OJ. “He’s willing to do anything for you. I don’t know why, he’s crazy to be that in love. But it’s been driving him insane. And you’ve been too caught up in yourself to notice.”
OJ scratches uneasily at his glass. “I didn’t… mean to hurt him.”
“They never mean to, do they?” Looseleaf breathes. “But you didn’t notice, not until Paper went to bed so distraught I had to take over. He’s tried to talk to you, you just don’t listen.”
”Listen, Loose-”
“If you did this to me, I would kill me. And, indirectly, I guess you’re dating me. Do you even know how lucky you are to have someone like Paper? I’ve been stuck in here since Season One, and all I see is an unfair relationship. He puts in so much more work than you do.”
“I love him! Okay?! I don’t know how to handle this kind of love.”
“Maybe try not to handle it like a hotel manager. Paper doesn’t want you as a hotel manager. He wants OJ. His OJ.”
“Listen, Looseleaf, I’m sorry. He has to know that, right?”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve done something like this.”
“But I’ve been so supportive throughout Season Four. And I know I’ve gotten better.”
“Better doesn’t always mean good.”
That’s a stab to the heart. OJ’s always tried to be better. He messed up the taxes last year? Well, this year he messed it up better.
He forgot Paper’s birthday last year? Well, this year, he had a gift and they went out for dinner. Really, how was OJ not being a good husband?
“I think I’m a fine husband,” OJ says stiffly.
“‘A fine husband’ he says after driving his boyfriend to tears. Listen, OJ, you have two options. Let Paper stay unsatisfied in this relationship and risk a divorce, or try. Be there for him. Compromise with him.”
“How?!” OJ almost wails. “He won’t tell me what he wants!”
“Because you wouldn’t listen to him! He thinks this is the only way to keep you happy, to adhere to everything you say!”
OJ presses his cold palms together. “I… I try.”
“Do you, though? Or do you convince yourself that you do so you don’t feel like the bad guy?”
“I- I do!”
“Keep telling yourself that, maybe one day you’ll actually make an effort for Paper.”
“Th-that’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”
“Or is it exactly what you need to remember? I can tell you this as many times as I want, but there’s no guarantee you’ll remember.”
OJ had no response. Because, as much as he hates to admit it, Looseleaf is right. But he didn’t want Looseleaf to be right.
“We’re going in circles. Paper loves you. Prove you love Paper.”
“How?” OJ mutters, staring at his hands.
“You’re hopeless. Sleep and wake up at the same time as him? Make him breakfast? Spend more time with him?”
“Okay. Okay, I will. I’ll be the perfect husband,” OJ looks up at Looseleaf, reaching over to grab his hands. “Listen, Paper, I dunno if you can hear me, but I love you. I’ll change for you.”
“For how long, though?” Looseleaf whispers, letting the question hang in the air. OJ squares his shoulders, looking into the man he loves’ eyes. His man.
“For as long as Paper loves me. I’ll love him forever.”
And with that he wraps his arms around the sheet of paper in front of him, not knowing or caring if he’s referring to Paper or Looseleaf when he whispers “I love you”, only basking in the smell of paper beneath him, and the way the man melts into OJ’s hug.