angel baby (heavy editing)

43

Oliver rushed to the first place he was almost sure Chris would be in his late grandmother’s art room, his heart in his throat. Chris had been put in his care. If anything happened to him...
And as he assumed, Chris was indeed in the art room. He sat on the ground of the beautiful art room staring up at the canvas in front of him. He covered his ears with his palms. Oliver rushed towards him stooping next to him. Whatever was on that canvas had scared the living daylights out of Chris and he was almost hesitant to turn and look as he checked for any bodily harm on Chris because one couldn’t be so sure.  Confirming he wasn’t hurt physically, he turned to look at the canvas and the sight made him flinch. The oil painting wasn’t quite done but Oliver got who was being painted and why Chris would be so spooked.  He turned to face Chris who still had his eyes glued to the painting. He shouldn’t be in there. Oliver also thought maybe it wasn’t such a good idea anymore that Chris spent so much time painting. Art and...Kathy was the two things that made him feel normal. In a way, the two were the same. The moment they were back, Chris was starting therapy and hoped to God it helped. He helped Chris up and led him out of the room thankful he didn’t refuse help.
He led him to the living room and sat him down. He stared at him for a moment. He didn’t like the look in Chris’s eyes. The usually bright green eyes had lost its colour and were almost a brown colour now. He just stared into space and he wasn’t even crying. In his opinion, that was worse than crying. He couldn’t tell what Chris would do and that scared him. He could just ask. Knowing Chris, he would answer honestly and he would but first...
The two meals Chris loves most in this world are apple pies and strawberry milk. You could say they are his comfort food.
Oliver remembered parts of his conversation with Lia the night before. He had called her to ask for Chris’s likes and dislikes since they would staying together for the next few days. He had remembered to pack a 12 pack of small sized of strawberry milk. Maybe that would help, maybe it wouldn’t.
“I’ll be right back”
Chris immediately looked up at him in panic shaking his head.
“I promise I’ll be back. I just want to get you a bottle of strawberry milk”
The panic vanished from his face and eyes a tiny bit. Reluctantly, he nodded his head. Oliver quickly disappeared to the kitchen, took three bottles from the fridge and rushed back to Chris. He was really down bad and the thought of that didn’t get his panties in a twist as it used to. He took his seat next to him, opened the lid and opened it with the straw. The size of the thing was almost laughable but it was comfort food to Chris so it wasn’t. He handed it to Chris and repeated the same process for himself. He took his first draw. He was the probably the first person in existence that didn’t like strawberry. It did nothing for him. He was so uninteresting. Chris seemed to really it and that was all that matters.
Down bad.
They sat in silence for the next few minutes, Chris constant draw from the straw the only sound in the room. They could also hear the distinct sounds coming from the natural world outside. Oliver needed to say something. He needed to assure him somehow.
“It gets better” but Oliver didn’t really know. The way people dealt was loss was relative but he still needed to say something.
“You can talk about her, you know? You can tell me anything. I’ll listen”
It was his turn to listen.
He felt Chris’ eyes on him so he turned. He couldn’t read his expression that he almost squirmed. He spoke again,
“Tell me how you met”
A fleeting thought went through him that Chris talking could worsen everything. He wasn’t a professional but he didn’t need to be a pro or something. He just had to be there for him and he was, every step of the way.
“I was fourteen, she was twelve”, Chris started to say. “It was first time I had ever gone home from school without my mom. She wouldn’t stop staring and it made me very uncomfortable. She was dirty and stank and looked very thin, like she hadn’t eaten in days”
Oliver had his full attention on Chris’ story but he couldn’t help but notice how mesmerizing Chris’ voice sounded. He had that kind of voice brilliant for story telling, a voice one would pay to listen to. It was truly amazing.
“I don’t what but something compelled me to take her home with me and she instantly became my best friend. She gave me the courage to come out though I know my mom wouldn't care. She also kept the bullies in place at her young age"
Oliver almost asked "you were bullied?" But then he remembered, once upon a time, he was the bully and had experienced a few times Jacob had been aggressive towards him. H couldn't even begin to imagine the horrors he faced in his previous school. Why would anyone want to bully Chris? Why did he ever think it was okay to bully Chris or anybody else?
Because they're weak and small.
That was royally fucked.
"Sometimes I think I'm stuck in a dream and right now isn't real. That in the real life Kathy is alive and well. But she's not and there's nothing I could do about it, is there?" Chris turned to face him again and the look in his eyes touched a very sensitive part of him.
"And it's overwhelming how much I'm hurting because I've known her for like four years and then she was taken away from me. Like the universe was playing a sick joke with me"
His last statement summed everything up. The universe played a sick joke on him. And he didn't miss the way he still referred to her in the present tense.
"She didn't care about anything at all. She didn't make me feel like a freak of nature. She didn't care that I could sometimes be impulsive or that sometimes I act like a child. And she wasn't scared to put me in my place. I miss her so much. What am I going to do, Oliver?"
This was one of the few times that Chris had ever called him by his name and he was just about to melt. Fuck, he really needed to read the room. He pulled Chris into a hug who immediately hugged him back.
"It'll get better", he whispered kissing his soft hair. And it must. It must get better for Chris. It had to. Chris was a sweet, sweet boy. He also smelled good. Maybe it wasn't the right time to notice these things but he did. Chris smelt really good, like caramel and vanilla and something else he couldn't put his finger on.
Oliver pulled out of the hug first and softly caressed his cheeks slowly and softly. He was truly beautiful.
You're in love with him.
Paul's earlier statement (right, he hadn't replied to him) almost had him pulling away but he stopped himself. He wasn't a coward. He had to face whatever, head first.
Was he in love with Chris? What did love even mean? If he truly was, could he or anyone else fall in love with somebody that quickly?
"Are you going to kiss me again?"
Chris's sudden question almost had him flinching and also made him realize he had been staring at his lips like a creep. He immediately looked away, full on aware that he was blushing.
"Uh I- I-" he stuttered trying to give a reply.  Should he apologize? Or should he pretend he didn't remember that kiss that night that finished almost as soon as it started because Chris passed out?
"It's okay if you want to because I want you to"
That surprised Oliver. Maybe he had had an hunch that Chris could maybe like him or at least felt some attraction to him but he hadn't expected him to be vocal about it but Chris had been a lot vocal today more than any other day he had known him.
He wasn't letting the opportunity pass though. He had thought about it since that night, how it would feel to kiss Chris for real. He moved closer. He was nervous. He couldn't believe he was nervous. He brought his hand up slowly to cup his cheeks. He was truly a sight to behold. He caressed it slowly - this seemed to be his new favorite thing to do- as he moved his head closer, tilting it at the right angle along the way. Inches apart, he could feel Chris's soft breath on his face. He felt a shiver run up his spine at that. He was down bad. His barefoot suddenly stepped on something as he shifted slightly and the next second, loud but solemn music suddenly started playing around the house that it had them separating.
"What the fuck?" Oliver cursed and looked down at what he stepped. It was the remote control. Think about ruining a good situation.
He turned to face Chris who was smiling for some reason. He couldn't help but smile back.
Oliver listened in to the music. He wasn't something he recognized. It sounded old. He was sure his mother had made it so that her mother's favorite tracks were the only music played here.
A sudden thought came into his head. He stood up and stretched out his hand to Chris.
"Dance with me"
Chris looked at him, looking almost confused.
"I can't dance. I've never danced before"
"It's just slow dancing. Trust me"
Seconds later, Chris placed his hand in his and he pulled him up.
He pulled him to the center of the living room, wrapped Chris' arms around his neck and placed his hand on waist. He guided them as they caught up to the beat and slow danced.
Chris stared at him like he was captivated by Oliver's look and Oliver didn't need to be told he was doing the same thing.
Minutes later, Chris untangled his arms from around his neck, stepped back an inch that Oliver was almost fearful that he hated it until Chris wrapped his around his waist burying his face in his chest. Oliver immediately embraced him tightly. He never knew he was a sucker for hugs until Chris.
During this time, not once did they stop moving.
Together, in tight embrace, they slow danced for a while.

(A/N: so perhaps I might like a bit of a slow burn, lol)