Three's Not A Crowd (Revamp)

Chapter Ten: [Maverick IV]

[~] CW: This chapter depicts acts of bodily harm. [~]

    Maverick watched Ollie scroll through Instagram and clicking on Milo's profile, viewing his story with a gentle smile.
    "I didn't know Milo had Instagram." He leaned, looking at the post from over Olly's shoulder. "What's he doing with his classmates?"
    Ollie glanced up. "Oh. Just goofing around I suppose." Milo had posted a story of him, his guitar, and classmates, his music sheet just barely in the corner. He was smiling, his classmates waving or doing peace signs, some middle fingers.
    "Think we should pay a visit?" Maverick looked to him.
    Ollie blinked. "Yeah why not," he put his phone away.
    "Now to find out where he's at."
    "Music room, obviously."
    "Smartass. I meant what part of the building," he spoke, nudging his head with his hand. Ollie grinned up at him.
    "Music section."
    Maverick looked down at him, smiling sweetly. "Well let's go find that shall we?" Such a jackass but can't help but love him. Ollie nodded, going towards the elevator.
    Maverick pressed the down button. Ollie leaned against the wall, looking at the numbers
    "Think it'd be on the bottom floor?"
    Ollie nodded. "Maybe,"
    "Text him. You can see his posts, text him what floor he's on."
    "Uh, okay," he pulled out his phone, texting Milo.
    "What floor are you on?"
    "Bottom flour to the far left down a hall called Music Hall. Is it just you paying me a visit?"
    Ollie glanced at Maverick. "No, Mav is coming, he recommended it"
    "HE recommended y'all pay a visit? I'm surprised, anyway, I'll see you when y'all get here!"
    "Alright!" He turned off his phone putting it away. "Bottom floor, to the left, down a hall," he told Maverick, who replied.
    "Got it," he pressed the number one floor button. Ollie moved closer to him watching the numbers again. Maverick put his arm around him and pulled him closer.
    Ding "First floor."
    Ollie waited for the doors to open before stepping out. Maverick walked out after him.
    "Far left right?"
    "Uh. Yeah,"
    Maverick walked, heading left. Ollie followed beside him, all of a sudden thinking about his dream as he went a bit wide-eyed and smacked his forehead. He then went wide-eyed again, pausing when you realized what he did.
    "You, okay?"
    "Yeah, itchy." he chuckled.
    Maverick looked at him, eyes searching for something, dancing around before he blinked and just nodded. "Okay,"
    Ollie held his own arms, exhaling. Maverick pulled him to his side, continuing to walk. Ollie started getting anxious, looking around.
     "You sure you're okay? You're more frantic than a weasel." Somehow more finicky then a weasel.
    Ollie shook his head. "Yeah nah, I'm fine just thinking about a project I have to do is all," liar.
    Maverick looked at him. "The, art one?"
    Ollie nodded. "Yeah,"
    "Why're you so worried? What's it about?"
    Ollie looked down. "Eh, just about two things that are in my life."
    Maverick. "Well I outta be one of 'em, but what can the second one be?"
    "Uh you are one of them and uh- I, uhm. . ." He rubbed his cheek. "I don't know yet," he chuckled nervously.
    Maverick looked at him. "Oh?" Ollie nodded, looking up at him. Maverick squinted. "Stuck on somethin'?" He looks suspicious. . .
    "Huh?"
    "I mean are you stuck on the second thing?"
    Ollie swallowed, shaking his head. "I've. . . got, an idea but I don't know if I'll follow through with it,"
    "I could help, what's the idea?" Maverick looked ahead of them, looking back at him. "Well?"
    "It. . . went away. . ." Ollie turned to look away, putting his head down. Maverick stared, sighing. He looked away, before pulling him away into the nearest bathroom. Ollie watched him, staring a bit. "Wh —"
    Maverick opened the door.
    "What are you —"
    Maverick bent down, checking what stalls there were for feet, before standing up. "Is there something you ain't telling me?"
    Ollie stared at him, his heart beating a million miles a second. "No," he shook his head. "No."
    "Ollie,"
    "No,"
    "Ollie don't lie to me, please," he pleaded, cupping his face.
    Ollie slightly flinched at his touch, exhaling quickly as his eyes got glossy. "No," seemed to be the only word he could say.
    Maverick looked at him, hurt clouding his eyes. "Please. . ." He begged in a soft voice.
    Ollie's lip quivered as he shook his head. "You'll hate me,"
    "I can never hate you, never. What is it? You-you broke something? Stole something? What?"
    Ollie swallowed, whispering softly. "Neither. . ."
    "What is it baby?" His eyes were now glossy, looking at him. What did you do Ollie. . .
    Ollie looked down, tensing. "The other part of the project is Milo," he whispered quickly, furrowing his eyebrows. He refused to look up.
    Maverick looked at him, quiet. He bit back a reply, telling himself dont. "That-that's it? Baby. . ."
    Ollie hesitated before nodding. "It doesn't mean anything,"
    "It doesn't have to," he wiped Olly's face, sniffling. "What's the project about that's so special it features both him and me?" He tried to joke, to lighten the mood, unaware.
    Ollie's lip suddenly quivered as he covered his face. Maverick's light smile faded. "Olls?" Ollie shook his head, absolutely hysterical.
    "Olls? Olivet what's wrong?"
    Ollie tried to stop as he gently cupped his face. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered shakily and shook his head. "I'm sorry,"
    Maverick looked at him. "Baby, baby what're you sorry for?" He pulled him in, hoping a hug would help, hoping.
    Ollie pressed his hands against his chest. "I couldn't help it. . . It-It just happened,"
    "Ollie. . . what did you do,"
    Ollie stared up at him. "Nothing! Nothing I swear! I didn't do anything. I promise. . ."
    "What did he do? Did he hurt you? What the fuck happened that I'm not aware of." Maverick's voice was heavy with worry and anger. Why isn't he telling me ANYTHING?! Say something to me!
    "No! Nothing!" he shook his head quickly. It became harder to tell him. Maverick looked at him, eyes once more searching for some underlying truth. Ollie examined his face, feeling shamed as he slowly let go of him.
    "I've developed a thing for Milo. . ." He dropped his hands to his sides.
    Maverick stared at him, his eyes widened. "It's, it's just a crush. Noth-nothing to worry about." His eyes twitched. I will NOT get mad at Ollie. So, out of view; he was sinking his nails into the skin of his arm. A distraction, for himself and the heavy emotions burning through him like an uncontrollable fire.
    Ollie examined him. "I'm sorry. Baby I-I still love you," he cupped his face, exhaling shakily.
    Maverick moved his hands, to embrace him. But they froze when he realized, and they returned to the stinging shaking. "I-I know you do baby. . . I know. . ." Yet he, with a sinking feeling, felt blood trickle onto his palm. He pried his nails from his skin carefully, to not raise suspicion. "I know you love me, and I love you too, I do."
    Ollie's lip quivered, shaking his head. "We don't. . . we don't have to go say hi we can just. . . I-I don't know. . ." His voice shook.
    "I was thinking we'd do that, just say hi, and go to class. . ."
    "Baby. . ." Ollie whispered. "We don't have to,"
    "No no, he's still — Gosh I can't even say friend I don't consider him one." Maverick smiled, fighting tears as he wrapped his hand around the nail marks. "Can-can we just go to class? Please?"
    Ollie nodded softly. "Yeah. . ."
    Maverick nodded back. "I'll uh, I'll meet you outside the bathroom, okay? I need to use a urinal, weirdly enough. . ."
    "Okay. . ." Ollie stepped back, looking down, and headed out.
    Maverick watched him, his expression dropped as he moved his hands. He stared. He headed for the sink and began washing the blood off and cleaning the marks. . . like he's done this before.
    Against his skin, there were identical half-moon marks, healed and almost invisible. They were at his forearm, in a way he'd be hugging himself to make them. He cleaned up, slightly panicking. Fuck. What if Ollie sees these? What would he think of me? Would he laugh at me? Oh god what if this is what makes me go to Milo fully? Will he leave me over these? No. No he's never, it's not him. Its not. Maverick couldn't hide them, so he quickly shoved his hands in his pockets, kept his arms to his side, and left.
    "Hey, sorry I really had to pee,"
    Ollie didn't look up, clenching his jaw. Maverick looked at him. Ollie gripped his arms, nodding softly.
    "Do — fuck it. Let's skip, okay? We, just forget our classes, we can head off somewhere else. . ."
    Ollie nodded again. "Let's just go back to the dorm. . ."
    Maverick nodded, his arms still at his sides. He headed for the elevator. Ollie followed slightly behind him, extremely quiet.
    Maverick walked. Ollie kept his head down, staying behind him. He stopped, looking at Ollie. Ollie didn't realize he stopped, bumping into him as he went wide-eyed and flinched. Maverick stared and stepped back. Ollie looked up at him.
    "Sorry,"
    "It's okay," he reached an arm around and moved him to his side. "I prefer you by my side. . ."
    Ollie nodded softly, putting his head back down. Maverick headed to the elevator, pressing the up button.
    Ollie stepped in as well, leaning against the wall.
    Maverick opened the door to their door, Ollie walked in, dropping his bag down. Maverick walked in after him. Ollie ran a hand through his hair, looking around the apartment. Maverick headed for his bedroom, Ollie followed him and watched him open his desk drawer.
    Maverick began to search for Neosporin. He finally found said medicine, closing it, and moved from view.
    "What, do you have?" Ollie spoke up.
    Maverick stopped. "Uhm. I have, a c-cut. I moved my arm too fast and cut it on something sharp earlier in the bathroom," he swallowed, hands shaking. "I think it was the broken mirror. . ." His voice trailed.
    Maverick could feel his eyes on his back. "Oh. . . okay. . ."
    Maverick stared at the ground, unable to face him, and the truth. He went back to carefully applying the Neosporin, his arm tensing as some stung, causing him to suck in sharp and quietly. Ollie went to his bed, opened his covers, and curled up, pulling the blanket over him slowly.
    Maverick turned into view, setting the medicine back in the drawer. He closed the empty room. Ollie had gone back to his room. Maverick slowly walked to Ollie's room, standing there. "I don't like sleeping alone. . ." He spoke aloud into the quiet.
    Ollie rubbed his lips, sniffling. "I'm not sleeping yet," he wiped his eyes, his lip quivering as he pulled his covers over his head a bit more.
    I don't like being alone. . . Maverick stared into nothing, knees curled to his chest as he hugged his knees from his spot near Ollie's door, feeling tears well in his eyes, fighting them. Ollie couldn't stay quiet, putting his face into his pillow. Maverick listened, now wishing he could desperately go back in time, to the moment he never fucking dragged him there. Why'd I ever do this? I should've just kept my mouth shut. It would've been better off if I just didn't over worry like a horrible boyfriend. He felt his fingers curl but he stopped. He'd already done enough self-blaming.
    "I'm so sorry. . ."
    Ollie hiccuped, severely trying to stop crying. Everything in Maverick wanted to rush over and embrace him, but he feared he'd make it worse. He didn't like looking at his mistakes or listening to them.
    "Ollie. . ." Ollie tried to talk but couldn't get anything out. Maverick stood and walked towards Ollie, but stopped, now worrying if he should even do this.
    Ollie couldn't calm down, his breathing all over the place as he placed his hand on his chest. Maverick looked, swallowing and pulled the covers back slowly, just pressing his hand to Ollie's face, nothing more. An invitation of sorts. Ollie flinched a little, crying more as he turned over and looked at him. Maverick looked at him, eyes glancing.
    His boyfriend closed his eyes, pressing his hand on top of his as he continued to cry. Maverick put his arms around him, wanting nothing more than to hold him and keep him safe, so he did. He pulled Ollie from the bed, slow and gentle, keeping the blanket around him.
    Ollie leaned into him, covering his eyes. Maverick rocked him. "I'm sorry. . . If-if I didn't ask we. . . please forgive me. . ."
    Ollie shook his head. "No I'm sorry. I'm sorry,"
    "You," he swallowed. "I can't find the words. . ."
    "I'm sorry," Ollie cried more again, hiding his face.
    Maverick held him. "It's okay. . ." He spoke softly, knowing if he spoke louder his voice would break again.
    Ollie wanted to explain himself but voted against it, sobbing into his chest. Maverick softly rubbed his hair. "Just. . . just know I'm here for you, for anything. . ."
    Ollie sniffed. "Why, you should be mad at me right now. You should be telling me how horrible of a person I am. . . you," he hiccuped, making himself sob harder.
    "I-it. . ." He sighed. "I would never tell you those things. I'd hate myself more than I already do now. I, I don't know what I'd do. . ."
    "But-but you-you should. . . I'm. . . I," he inhaled shakily, shaking his head quickly.
    "I know. I know I have a right, to be angry. I can't, I won't. I made a promise, and baby I'm not breaking it." Ollie wiped his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows. Maverick stroked his hair.
    "I'm so sorry. . ." Ollie whispered.
    "It's. . . I'm sorry. . ." Maverick whispered back. Ollie sniffed and looked up at him.
    "Does this change anything?"
    Maverick looked down at him. "What do you mean?"
    Ollie shrugged. "Like. . . how you see me?"
    "Yes. But-but not enough to do anything. just leaving it as it is. But can you promise me something?" Ollie blinked softly, nodding a bit. "Please don't leave me for him. And-and I'll forget your thing for him," he spoke in a soft, higher-pitched voice, tears welled in his eyes.
    Ollie examined his face, nodding. "I won't leave you for him, promise."
    "Please don't. . ." He pulled him closer, resting his head on his.
    "I won't,"
    Maverick's eyes felt heavy, nodding. He wanted to say something about this morning, but he didn't know if it'd get a good response or a bad one, so he kept quiet. "I love you,"
    "I love you too, baby. . ."
    Maverick's eyes fought to close, sighing. Ollie frowned a bit, resting his head on his shoulder. Maverick swallowed, rubbing Ollie's arm. Ollie sniffed and calmed down. The door clicked, opening into the quietness. Ollie looked up, wiping his face quickly.
    "Ollie?" Milo called. "Ollie I got your. . . text. . ." He found them, and stared. Ollie looked at him, sniffing as he went a bit wide-eyed. Maverick looked at Milo.
    Ollie just stared at him, then looked at Maverick then back at Milo. Maverick continued to stare at Milo, expression neutral but his eyes, his eyes burned in anger. Ollie got up, moving the blanket off of him.
    Milo stared, looking from one to the other. He slowly moved back. "Should-should I leave?"
    "No you're fine we were just. . . talking."
    "A-about?"
    "You, funny enough." He spoke as he stood, bundling the blanket and setting it back on Ollie's bed.
    Ollie stared, holding his arm. "Hey hey wait."
    Maverick looked at Ollie. "What? Ain't gonna hurt him." Not enough to be hospitalized, that is. He turned his gaze to Milo. He could tell by his expression his heart had picked up, now thinking he should've NOT come in.
    Ollie stared at Milo and then back at Maverick. "Cut it out," his voice shook. Maverick looked back at Ollie, who shook his head. "You said you'd forget it. . ."
    "I will."
    Ollie went wide-eyed. "But —"
    "Olls, I'll forget it,"
    "Forget what?"
    Ollie stared at Milo. "Nothing. Nothing," his heart beat out of his chest. Ollie then pulled at Maverick, seeing his harsh gaze. "Quit." Maverick looked away, moving, and laid on Ollie's bed, plopping a pillow on his face. Ollie exhaled shaking, holding his head as he tried to calm his beating heart.
    "I, what — I'm so confused. . ." Milo spoke in a low voice. Maverick felt the bed lighten, knowing Ollie had gotten up. Through the pillow he could feel eyes. Milo's staring at me.
    "Stop staring at me," Maverick spoke through the pillow. Milo sat on his bed. Maverick got up, heading into view. He sat down at his desk, opened his laptop, and texted his two teachers whose classes he was supposed to go to.
    Maverick slightly turned his head, then fully turned it. "Olls?"
    "Yeah?"
    "You okay?"
    "Totally fine, wonderful even, so splendid."
    "Uh-huh," Maverick looked at Milo, eyes narrow, before looking away. Maverick's fingers twitched, eyeing the marks as he sighed and grabbed a soft purple sweater, pulling it on. He got a twinge of sick feeling, looking at the bathroom. Then came the sound of retching, and then; "Fucking damn it!"
    "Olls? Olly?!" his voice grew with worry.
    "I'm fine!" He wiped his mouth, shaking his head as he puked one last time.
    "Ollie I will come in."
    "I'm fine," he wiped his mouth, now extremely drained.
    'Do you need water? Food?"
    "I said I'm fine! Just, overwhelmed."
    "O-okay,"
    Maverick made his way to the kitchen, grabbing Gatorade. "I got you water,"
    "I said I was fine."
    "You just puked. A lot. You need the electrolytes."
    Ollie kept his head leaned back, now quiet. Maverick sat near the door.
    "Fine."
    "That's a good boy," he answered, opening the door and nudging it in.
    Ollie looked over at it, frowning. "But I'm not hungry,"
    "It's optional." Maverick said, Ollie took the Gatorade, looking at it.
    Ollie sniffed, taking a sip. Maverick leaned his head. Ollie made a face, setting the water on the floor. "Do you still have contact with my mom?" he slowly looked at him. "She won't answer my texts. . ."
    "Uh. . . can't remember if I ever had it,"
    Ollie looked down, frowning. "My dad?"
    "Don't think I met him,"
    Ollie teared up a bit. "Cool," he nodded, taking another sip.
    Maverick shrugged. "Yep," Ollie turned his face away, holding the cup tighter. Maverick sighed. Ollie exhaled slowly.
    "Can I come in?"
    "Yeah. . ." Maverick made his way in, closing the door behind him. Ollie bit at his lip, looking down. Maverick moved closer. Ollie shook his head, giving a deep sigh, closing his eyes. "I feel like a walking bad luck charm."
    "Nonsense," Maverick cupped his jaw.
    "No, it really isn't. . ."
    Maverick looked at him. "And why is that?"
    "All my family kinda just poofed me out of the picture. Everything I touch or is in my path gets somehow messed up. People come and go out of my life because I'm a problem." Ollie inhaled deeply, sinking down. "I won't be surprised if one day you just. . ." He made a poofing motion with his hands.
    "I'll poof when I'm dead, Olls."
    "Mm. . ." He put his hands in his lap.
    "That's your family's problem they left because they gave me the best, cutest, hottest man I've had the pleasure of dating," he looked at him, smirking.
    Ollie looked at his hands, frowning softly. "I just see an accident if you ask me. Prone to failure."
    "Well, I'll be there to fix you," he moved his hands and held Ollie's. Ollie looked at their hands then looked at him. Maverick looked at him.
    Ollie sighed softly. "At least you think so,"
    "I know so,"
    Ollie moved, laying his head on his lap. Maverick stroked his hair. Ollie closed his eyes. "I think I'mma work on the portrait. . ."
    "Okay. . ." Maverick watched Ollie sit up, blinking softly as he slowly stood, holding out his hands. Ollie took them as Maverick led him from the bathroom. Ollie followed him.