Black Velvet (73) (Patreon)

I'm an awkward lump in the Amadeus doorway, my mom scowling, and she uses her chin to give less than subtle juts towards outside every time Tobias' gaze strays to another departing guest.  I pretend not to see her in favor of admiring the dusty drapes discarded near the couch.

Crap.

"You don't want to overstay your welcome, Oliver."  She repeats, for the third time, falsely sweet and motherly, but her voice is high with disapproval.

I have officially become the daughter she always wanted, but never had, the daughter she needs to protect from hot men, which is totally unfair.

Look at Nic!  He flirts with everyone, with no gender discretion.  Where's his mom shield?

"Come on.  It's getting late — we'll all drive back together."

"I asked him to stay and hang out."  Tobias cuts in with his disarming, golden-child smile, his lie lost to his charm.  For once, faced with his magnetism, my mom looks even more uneasy, helplessly trying to catch Nic's eye.  "I can drive him back in the morning.  It's no problem."

"Huh.  I didn't know you two hung out," My dad is chipper with the thought of escape, so his thoughts simply don't linger on our unlikely friendship, and instead of pushing me towards the car like my mom — he pats my back with a significant smile. "Not nice to steal your brothers' friends while he's away, Oliver.  Gonna steal his position on the baseball team, too?"

I cringe, nose wrinkling,

"No way."

"Hm.  You'd be a great water boy, though," Nic winks, adding in a playful shrug when I deflate, "I don't mind, Dad. After all, I can't give Tobias all the friendship perks that Oliver does."

Tobias closes his eyes with an exhale as my mother pales.  I elbow Nic, though his cheeriness at our dad's cluelessness and our mom's dismay is unfailing,

"Nicolai."  My mom hisses before racking on a much less used, "Oliver.  Car, please."

"Anne, geez.  Let our wallflower get out of the house for a night," my dad continues, blissfully naive to Tobias and I's less than a platonic relationship, and opens the door for a more elderly housewarming guest.  This forces us all into a crowded heap on Tobias' very small porch.  Without him, at least. "You're making them feel awkward."

"But, he's —"

"Ever since Charlie started working, he never leaves.  Go on, give it to me.  What's the sudden issue with him having a social life?"

My mom winces, my eyes widen — and she quickly adjusts her purse as a guide,

"I just think that Toby needs some rest and —"

My dad groans,

"Don't become a smother mother.  He needs things like this!  You'll stunt his growth."

I love having the Dr. Phil show in front of my boyfriend's house.  This is great.  Please tell him all of my personal failings.

"A what?"  My mom's hackles raise, but it's enough of a distraction for her husband to lead her further out into the night air and down the stairs away from my brother and me, "your genes stunted his growth!"

"His emotional growth.  Oli's pushing twenty!  When are you going to let him out of the house?  He already doesn't have a locking door!"

"Well."  Nic smiles, watching the pair bickering off in search of the car.  "It's about time for their biannual fight.  They'll need these, unfortunately."

He waggles the keys in front of my face before he makes a show of unlocking the doors not once — but twice, the headlights blinding us.  My mom sends a final glare in my direction, and I smile timidly — flashing her a small goodbye wave.

"You're going?"

"As if I'd stay."  Nic pulls a face, "Toodaloo.  If mom redirects her wrath onto poor little me," he warns, "I'm sending her back for you.  Your virginity will be damned as everlasting."

"God — that isn't,"  My face feels like I've shoved it into an oven.  "It has nothing to — Nic.  I just want to hang out with him."

"You're staying the night?"

"Well, I'm on a weird sleep schedule.  And — we only see each other at work, and today we were supposed to hang out before all of —"

"Sure.  A bedtime, PG hang out.  Not so sure Toby is thinking the same thing, though, Buddy."  My brother reaches into his back pocket with a grunt.  "He's been making eyes ever since the bedroom."

"So, as his best friend and unwilling wingman,"  he pushes something into the palm of my hand, wrapped with plastic, like a piece of candy or... why did I give him my hand?  "I have a duty to fulfill."

Nic snorts, then jolts down the stairs like some sort of rabies-infected animal, a grin thrown over his shoulder.  I dare to peek down at my palm, though I know it's the trill before a horror scene, and watch his retreating form with a sigh.

Strawberry flavored.

I groan.

—

Tobias has his kitten sprawled on his lap, his book snapping closed in his hand when I re-enter, flushed, with the condom shoved away like a dirty secret into my hoody pocket.  I thought about sliding it through the crack of his porch, but I'm against littering and child-unfriendly dirt time capsules.

"Hey."  Tobias seems mildly skeptical, and I am too.  "I wasn't sure if you were —"

"I am.  But.  There's a sixty percent chance my mom might break-in in the middle of the night to kidnap me."  I blurt, twisting my fingers together in front of me if only to prevent myself from engaging in impromptu jazz hands.  "Kid-nap me.  Because she thinks I'm a child.  So.  Uh — but I'm here.  Ta-da."

Tobias looks slightly startled, but says nothing, and instead, his tiny cat gives a loud mew in response.  I grimace.

"... She didn't come out for the party.  Guess she's an introvert."  He scoops up the feline to set her on the floor.  I belatedly realize he's talking about his kitten, and in that cuteness, I forget about the nervous desire to sprint after my mother's minivan.  "Her and your dad would've gotten along."

"Yeah, he does like cats. Um.  Oh wow,"  his kitten tries to regain balance, mewing at nothing in particular.  She stares up at Tobias with a frazzled demeanor, like she's hoping to be picked up again.  "she's pretty."

"Mhm.  She knows."  Tobias stands from the couch, and I'm averting my eyes from him to the grey fluff of kitten, cursing my ability to put myself in awkward scenarios —

Why did I ask to stay?

I don't even know what to talk about!

There's a strawberry-flavored condom in my pocket.  In my pocket!

"I think I might have to use your phone charger."  I continue, trying to distract myself, though I'm still standing in the doorway like an absolute weirdo,  "I didn't bring one."

"That's alright."

"Actually, um.  I didn't even bring pajamas."  I suck in a breath.  "Or.  A pillow?  Or a toothbrush, which is gross to tell you — I guess."  I point back towards the yard, taking a step back, "well.  I should probably just call my mom.  I haven't ever even had a sleepover, so this is like —"

"Oliver.  Why don't you just come in?"  Tobias' brow is raised, but there's a hint of a smile cracking under his confusion, "and shut the door before Poppy becomes coyote chow."

"Oh — right."  I shut the door a little louder than I meant to, toeing off my shoes on his welcome mat with red ears and an uneasy gut.  "Sorry."

"...I have an extra toothbrush."  Tobias eyes me curiously, his humor still clinging to the corner of his lip.  I chew mine, "extra pajamas.  Two pillows.  A phone charger.... Feel better?"

I inhale sheepishly before I huff, nodding.

"So.  How expensive is it?"  I say, finally, and Tobias peeks back at me as I wave towards his kitchen.  "The rent?  Is it all working out pretty good?"

"Yeah.  It's not bad.... Not the prettiest, no air conditioning —  further from town, so the rent is low."  Tobias jerks a thumb towards the window, "I put in an air conditioner.  A fan.  That took care of the worst part.  Dust sucks, though."

"I think it's nice.  I like it."

"Yeah?  Liar."  Tobias snorts.  He opens the fridge, his other hand half-tucked under his shirt as he looks inside.  It's weird to see him so at home, but there's a lump in my throat.  "It's a dump."

He looks at home.

"It isn't.  It's — got a porch swing."  The kitten is encircling Tobias' legs, "and you've got a willow out front.  A driveway.  Mrs. Hill would be jealous."

Tobias' fingers tap against the door of the open fridge, and then he turns towards me.

"You really that nervous?"  He asks, direct, and I toe my sneaker with my socked foot,

"No."

"...Huh," He nods, smiles slightly. "Sure seems like it.  Your dad also asked me about rent — three times.  I gave him the same speech.  Air conditioner.  Dust."

"Well,"  I walk further in, cross my arms against the counter, and tuck a curl behind my ear.  "Our genetics are a thing to behold."

"Want something to drink?" Tobias is back to surveying the fridge.  He reaches in to pull out two cans of coke.  I nod, and he slides one across the counter and into my reach,

"Poppy, move."  He scoffs, gently nudging the kitten with his foot.  She bounces to fight at it, and he sighs, scratching his eyebrow.  He steps closer, unhindered by tiny animals declaring his feet their mortal enemy, and I laugh.

The tension fades.

"Poppy." I'm smiling now as she crawls up his pants leg with her little claws extended.   It's cute to watch something annoy Tobias that he can't scare with his ever-present glare, "She's tough.  I like her.  Your foot seems afraid of her tiny paws."

Tobias' jaw clenches, and he settles his stern look on me instead.  I laugh harder.

"She needed a name, with the name came some attitude.  Maybe she doesn't like it."  He's scooping her up again, thumb working against her cheek,  "what did you think about the house-warming party?"

"Ah.  I'm sorry that my mom sprung that on you," I say, honest and embarrassed,  "She got the idea in her head while we were buying napkins, and it just spiraled, sort of like, oh Tobias needs paisley curtains!  Does he need paisley plates?!  Does he have a blender?  She's very upset about the cost of living for our age group."

"Yeah?  And do I register as a paisley guy?"

"No.  But then came the silverware.  That went more like — I bet he'd love matching cutlery.  We were in Big Saves for an hour.  There are six aisles,"  I cut myself off, "if it's any consolation, she'll likely be doing an apartment-warming party for Nic soon too."

"I liked it.  And.  He's wanted to move to Adeline for a while," Tobias leans onto his elbows, letting Poppy take over the counter space.  He nudges her in my direction, and she bobbles over to me, pressing her face against my palm. "Bet he's over the moon."

I involuntarily snort,

"So cute,"  I say, lightly patting the top of her head.  "She's the cutest."

"Hm." Tobias smiles back at me but quickly hides it with a sip of his drink. Our eyes meet, and I feel my face heat once more.  My heart is skittish.

"Um.  Did you play baseball with those guys you met at work?"  I ask him, resisting the urge to pick Poppy up.  I finally give in, and she sniffs my t-shirt earnestly.  Way to give someone a complex, Poppy.  "How was that?"

"Long, too hot."  Tobias' fingers tap against the table, "but fun.  They have some good players.  And there's no prayer-huddle before we eat after, or before games, which is new."

Tobias is so relaxed, I could probably blame half of it on post-sports exhaustion, or maybe some on socializing —

But really, above all else, he seems content.

"...You look happy."  I glance back up at him, with Poppy purring against my chest,  "I'm glad."

"Yeah?  Are you happy?"  Tobias asks — and I blink.  "In Jameson.  You happy there, still?"

He crosses his arms when I don't respond.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He doesn't heed to the avoidance in my question, and I frown,

"Well, I should be, shouldn't I?" I exhale, wave my hand up at nothing in particular, "even though my job is like — nonexistent.  And you're gone.  And like — well.  Nic's moving."

"So you aren't happy."

"I mean, I was just thinking about it. Or.  I guess I think about it a lot.  And, whenever I think about it — it's like I'm not growing, like you and Nic."  I hesitate,  "Even Charlie-Anne is doing an internship.  I never really.... Well."

"I don't know people in town."  I set Poppy back down, sighing, "It's a small town.  I literally grew up there.  Why don't I know people?"

"You know them."

"Well, I know them — like their names, but not personally.  I don't have friends."  I'm quiet, listen to Poppy's purring again,  "It's not that I don't want to.  But like, I'm always going to be the cat-shaving, stimming, weirdo valedictorian."

Tobias flinches.

"Oliver."

"And why not? I only like things that I can be alone for.  Then I kind of forget that things are going on outside my room.  If the shop closes, I'll have to do something different.  No one will hire me, first of all, and I don't like different."

Tobias just stands there, as if he's contemplating, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt — like he's uncomfortable or uneasy —

Great.  Word vomit all over his happiness.

Double oops.

"Well.  That was depressing — I'm sorry it's just like,"

My jaw clenches.  Tobias' grip on his drink is tight, but he's staring at me like he wants nothing more than for me to continue rambling,

"Be honest.  Am I kind of a loser?" I must look too earnest, look too much like the anxiety that I'm feeling, because Tobias sets down his drink, reaches over, has an expression of unease, "you have a house now.  Outside of Jameson.  Like a job, and you're — making friends.  I live with my parents."

I laugh softly,

"A lot of people — a lot of people came tonight.  It's always like that.  People really like you."

"No," I catch Tobias' dark eyes as he touches my elbow gently, shakes his head,  "you're not a loser.  A house and friends in Huxley isn't going to make me think that you're a loser, Oliver."

"Ah.  Well."  I flush.  "...Who is going to hire me when I have the social skills of a four-year-old? I should've started — something by now."  I adjust my hoody's strings, "I'm not trying to be a sourpuss.  I just feel like I should be harder on myself. You know?"

"No.  I don't know."  Tobias' brows gather.  "You shouldn't be hard on yourself.  It's a small town.  You liked your job. Why should you have to justify it?"

"It's — that.  I've only ever had this one job, and I probably would work there forever if it would be there."

"So?  You liked it.  What are you scared of, Oliver?" He asks, and his tone is low and soft. I relax, feeling his thumb press against the skin of my forearm. "Are you scared you won't like a new job?"

"No."

"Of Nic leaving?"

"No, I'll miss him, but.  No."  I shake my head and let Poppy unfurl from my chest. "I'm actually really excited for him.  Maybe kind of jealous that he's figured it out."

"Are you too scared to pick a major?" He leans his weight on foot nearest to me.  "There's college counselors."

"I don't really — want to do anything big." I'm scratching my arm self-consciously, and Tobias' fingers grip it a little more, "I — actually.  I have no idea what I want to do."

"We're young," Tobias whispers, and my eyes travel up the cut of his jaw, the confusion that's still present, "why are you in such a hurry?"

I watch him, my eyes threatening tears with his gentleness.

Great.

"... I — Uh.  I don't want everyone to leave me behind with their cool new life." I laugh, but it doesn't sound like a laugh — and it sounds like a plea to him and...

Tobias —

Flicks my nose.  I startle from it, bat at his hand,

"What the heck!"

"This is ridiculous.  Come on."  He says firmly, motioning for me to follow him down the hall.  I do, setting Poppy down onto the floor.  She runs towards the bathroom, her legs stiff and tail upright.

"Ah — Tobias.  Your cat, I mean.  Poppy is-"  I start, and Tobias waves it off,

"She's fine.  She likes to sleep on the bath mat. She's sort of weird."  He's pushing open the door to his room, and I stand in the doorway again, wondering if it's okay to come inside.

He doesn't notice my hesitance, reaching up on his shelf to grab his laptop.

"What are you doing?"  I ask, curious, and he looks at me over his shoulder,

"What are you doing?"  He repeats, motions towards my awkward stance in the entrance, then sets his laptop on the bed.  I assume that's where he wants me to sit, and I eye it, the grey sheets, black pillows.

"Don't really like color, do you?" I joke, trying to make it less awkward as I crawl up on it and cross my legs. He sits down next to me, and his legs cross where he places his laptop.

"What are we doing?"  I ask him, again, scooting closer to see the screen.

"Do you have a resume?"  He asks me, and the seriousness of his tone is enough to surprise me.

I shake my head,

"Let's make one."  Tobias clicks into his templates, readjusts in the bed to where he's leaned up against the headboard, and I follow, completely enveloped in his scent. I attempt to ignore it, to ignore the press of his arm and shoulder that's casually leaned against mine.

"What's your email?"  His gaze shifts over to me, and I want to pinch myself for hesitating, typing it into the form.  "Now put your address, and here is your objective."  He clicks down the list after I fill it and then moves the computer closer to me to fill in achievements.

I feel strange, domestic, with my elbow ever so often pressing against his stomach, but he doesn't act bothered by it, and the closer I curl into him to add more information, the more he relaxes into his pillow,

"Why are we doing this?" I ask him, finally, and feel a little self-conscious as he reads what I've written.  He shrugs, adding a work history section, and then his regard is dropping down to where I'm leaning against his upper arm.

He chews the inside of his cheek, eyes averting.

"Because I want you to be happy."

—

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(a/n: okay, despite the sweetness of this chapter, the condom is a chekov’s gun.  Hahahahahaha.  The second part to this huge chapter will be NSFW, it will be posted later this week, but remain skippable to those who would like to skip it.)