Three's Not A Crowd (Revamp)

Chapter Sixty-Four: [Maverick VII]

    Maverick woke, it's been hours since Milo brought everyone to their respective suites. He felt his head throb, scrunching his face. Who's talkin' about me? Ollie was slumped at the end of the bed, he looked at him, then looked down. "Oh," Milo was hugging him, not Ollie. He gently pulled Milo's arms off and got up out of bed. The suite was dark, the bathroom light split through the cracked door. Ollie inhaled softly, groaning a bit as he shifted, Maverick looked over, walking over and softly kissed his head. He then went for the nightstand, reaching for his phone, eyes narrow.
    Four thirty-two? Jesus. . . He went through his phone, fingers clicking and swiping. He hadn't noticed now he was in Rebecca's contact. He pressed the call button. There was a wait before Rebecca's voice came through.
    "Hey you okay? Wait is Oliver okay?"
    Maverick rubbed his eyes. "He's at the foot of the bed asleep. I just wanted to call because I woke up and my head was throbbing. Why did Damian mention me? Am, am I needed?" there was a silence, then talking.
    "Damian, Maverick is on the phone asking why you, mentioned him? Last I remember we didn't. . . talk about him?"
    "I. . . didn't, mention him,"
    "What the heck. . ."
    "Mrs. Simmons?"
    "Uhm, are you feeling okay, honey?"
    "Yes Mrs. Simmons, I am, and- and he did talk about me, I got this, twinge in my brain, I know he was talking about me. Why was I brought up? Again; Am I needed?"
    "No?"
    "Mrs. Simmons, this twinge is never wrong. Usually folks talk about me for my line of work, again I'll ask, please, did he talk about me? My line of work?"
    "Maverick, darling, he said he didn't talk about you."
    "I. . ." Maverick sighed. "This twinge is never wrong, but, very well Mrs. Simmons, tell my second dad I said hello, alright? I apologize."
    "It's alright, I will." She replied, he then hung up.
    Suddenly Ollie's phone started buzzing as he groaned and slowly opened his eyes. He turned, grabbing his phone from his back pocket and answered. "Hello?" He spoke softly, slowly sitting up.
    "Oliver."
    It took him a moment to process who it was before shooting his eyes open and sat up. "Oh shit. Hi."
    "Where are you."
    "Out of town. . ." He moved his legs off the bed, standing as he swayed a little and held his head.
    "Where."
    He rubbed his face. "Vegas, why?" He sniffed, rubbing his arm as he walked towards the balcony.
    "Tch. Figured. With your mother?"
    Ollie stopped in front of the door. Maverick sighed, turning. He didn't see Ollie in bed. "Olls?"
    "How did you —"
    "Yeah, I got a very unexpected phone call."
    He held his arm. "From-from her or?"
    "Yeah from her."
    "Is she okay?" He voice was filled with worry as he tapped his foot.
    "Oh she seems wonderful. You know about it?"
    He made a face, blinking a few times. "I'm. . . confused. . . know about what?
    "Oh don't play stupid, boy. Do you know about her little act?"
    His heart started racing as he rubbed his arm more. "Dad I'm sorry but I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."
    His father sounded like he was getting angry. "Did you know about your fucking mother fucking some guy?"
    Ollie stared out the window, shaking his head. "No?" He looked back at Maverick, who looked at him, walking up.
    "Don't you lie to me, Oliver."
    "Dad I'm not lying, I didn't know."
    "Oliver Jay."
    "Your dad? Shit. I just got off the phone with your mother. . ." He whispered.
    Ollie waved his hand to him, putting his fingers to his lip. "Dad, I'm being honest. I've never lied to you, have I?"
    "I don't believe you."
    Maverick watched and listened as he rubbed his forehead. "I don't know what else you want me to say?"
    "The truth, damn it! Did you know your mother was being a whore?!"
    Maverick stared at the phone, blinking. Ollie scowled. "Nuh uh, don't start with that. She ain't a whore, motherfucker."
    "The fuck did you call me?"
    "You heard me."
    "Where are you, Oliver."
    "Classified."
    "You little shit, you better tell me or for fucks sake I will find you myself."
    Ollie inhaled, blinking a few times as he quickly hung up, tossing his phone. Maverick's head followed the phone, staring with wide eyes. Ollie held his cheeks in panic, staring towards the phone.
    "Di-did you just hang up on your father?"
    "Fuck." He whispered shakily.
    He looked at him. "Your mom, is with Damian. I'm only awake because I sensed them talking about me." Ollie turned and stared at him.
    Ollie swallowed. "What'd my mom do." He rubbed his lips, foot tapping more.
    "Best guess, from the way those two looked at each other at the nightclub; Fuck." He answered honestly.
    "I don't feel good." He held his head, walking to the bathroom.
    Maverick followed him. "I-I have medicine. . ." He opened the bathroom door, taking off his suit jacket as he laid it down, Ollie stood at the doorway. He stood near the toilet, holding the counter as he cursed under his breath. Maverick stared, looking worried. Ollie motioned him out, making a face as he went on his knees and lifted the lid, Maverick walked out and closed the door.
    Maverick waited, pacing. He heard the toilet flush, then the sink running and shutting off. "You can come in now." Maverick walked in as Ollie looked down at the sink, rinsing out his mouth again.
    "Are you okay?" Maverick asked, Ollie blinked softly, thinking as he nodded. He nodded back, holding his hand out. "Come on. . . let's go to bed. . ." Ollie held his hand, squeezing it a bit, he pulled him closer, holding him. Ollie leaned into him, closing his eyes as Maverick carried him to bed.
    "Don't tell anyone my mother and Spark's dad hooked up. . ." Ollie whispered softly.
    "I won't dear, I won't. . ."
    "Okay. . ."