Olikase Oneshots

First Steps Are the Worst

Fukase didn't want to press the button – the dreaded button that would doom the rest of his day with either baseless euphoria or absolute horror. He knew he had to decide about it eventually, however, he didn't do anything too drastic yet. All Fukase did was asking for his friend's friend's number so that they could talk outside from the public online chat. It wasn't that hard. All he had to do was press the button that would send his first message. Then there was no going back, and Oliver would (hopefully at least) respond to him. There was nothing that could go wrong, right?

Well, there was. In fact, there was an endless amount of scenarios about how horrible Fukase's attempt to get to know the blond could turn out, about how it would force him to never talk to Oliver and any mutual friends every again, about how he would never be able to recover from another rejection as grand as this one, and whatnot. Fukase went through every single one of these possibilities.

Approaching someone was never his forte, hence why he once promised himself to never do it again after he had been dumped way too many times already, but he and Oliver were getting along so well during talking and their gameplays, and there was just that prominent feeling that Fukase didn't want to leave their time reserved for the weekly gaming nights only. 

Oliver didn't seem to make any attempts to get to know Fukase better, but the redhead ignored it for his own sake. He hadn't had much hope when he had asked Oliver to talk outside of their meetups, however, his lack of hope got crushed in its roots and his soul descended into heaven for a brief moment when his friend actually handed him his number nonchalantly.

Friend. Fukase caught himself calling Oliver a friend, even though he wasn't even sure if they were. Was he really a friend if talking to him via private message was such a big deal to him? Probably not, but at least that set a new goal for him to become friends with Oliver. He could do it if only he pressed the button.

And he did, eventually. His heart sank to his knees once he saw the small ticks on the corner of his message bubble, and it sunk down even further once – after probably 15 minutes of continuous staring into the empty chatroom – the ticks turned blue. Oliver read the message. Oh god.

Hey, it's me Fukase

Fukase reread his message once more. Then Oliver started typing.

Hey, good to hear from you eventually.

I already thought you ran off with my number to blackmail me later lolol

Fukase facepalmed himself mentally once he realized that taking almost a week to text someone after asking for their number might not be the best first impression. Nevermind, he couldn't reverse time yet.

Yeah, haha sorry. I hope I didn't disturb you or anything.

I was about to sleep, but it's fine.

Going to sleep now? Fukase looked outside the window. Today was another cloudless sky, and the morning birds had been aggressively chirping their spring cries long ago. He looked back down on his phone on the top of the screen. It's 10 AM.

Night shift?

More like time zones

Oh. He didn't think of that. Fukase let his thumb hover over the keyboard but didn't press any keys. Was it too invasive to ask Oliver where he lived?

Oh okay

Where are you from?

Here goes nothing. And there was a short pause that almost melted Fukase's brain out of sheer panic. Why did he even text Oliver? He was no good at this and that would not change for the better.