Oliver was still in some state of shock, but it was a welcome state, one that took his mind off of Pappy for the first time in months and one that also brought Noah Winters along with it. He was still slightly embarrassed by his offhand comment and the state of himself and his bedroom, but it hardly mattered once Noah sat down. There was more than just a dip where the other man sat, there was an actual man sitting there and Oliver could only react to that, to him. Noah was too close now, no barrier or space between them, no glass like there was once before. There wasn’t even anyone in the room to break Oliver’s distraction but he had a feeling he wouldn’t let himself anyways. Noah Winters was in his bed, breathing his air and—and touching his beard? Oliver met Noah’s gaze intently, his bearded cheek absently and unknowingly tilting towards Noah’s hand. He would close his eyes in bliss if he could break his trance with Noah. But he could not look away, Noah’s hand was strong on he smiled as he went, like it was where he was meant to be.
Oliver smiled back. A shy smile he tried to bite back at first but was soon smiling at the sides and ruffling up his thick beard slightly. “Don’t need to ask,” he found himself saying aloud, willing Noah to stay just a little longer with his eyes. It felt fitting almost, their first touch after all these months to be so… intimate. It could’ve easily gone another way, a brotherly hug or an awkward pat on the shoulder of some sort. But no, it was much more than that and Oliver found himself unconsciously shifting closer to Noah, wishing it was still going on. “Don’t feel too bad, man. Your beard still looks nice,” Oliver pointed out, suddenly wanting to caress Noah’s beard himself just to make sure. “…You look nice,” he finished up, unable to deny the truth in his voice. He had a mind to be embarrassed again but all he could really feel was the stare of Noah’s brown irises and the warmth the body next to his provided.
And he was wearing blue, teal at that. The fucker. Only Noah Winters could come back into my life, wear teal, and look at me like that all at the same time, he almost thought out loud but knew better than to actually say it. “No, not really…” Oliver purposefully let himself trail off and began playing with his hands. “Do you remember my grandfather, Pappy?” he began, blue eyes searching Noah’s and body still involuntarily moving closer to his and relishing in his heat. “Well he, uhm. He got sick again.” He was losing his nerve now, gripping his hands in lap tighter and eyes now searching Noah’s frantically, looking for the words he couldn’t say.
“I came back here to… to take care of him.” The words felt heavier on his tongue and Oliver could no longer keep the emotion from his words. He never cried in front of Noah before. Not that he shouldn’t, it just felt unfamiliar doing anything with Noah, even if it felt right at the same time. Noah was this untouchable entity before. He was far away and out of Oliver’s grip, but not his mind. It was easier before, somehow. He couldn’t mess up on skype or text message and if he did it hardly mattered when Noah was in some unknown city and not right next to him like he was now. How did I ever do anything around this man? Oliver asked himself.
“I took care of him for awhile until, he couldn’t anymore,” the tears could be heard in his voice. Oliver didn’t try to stop them only spoke, slowly and quietly so he could remain understood. “That was in November. The twenty-second.” Finally Oliver tore his eyes from Noah’s and looked at his hands in his lap.
It was funny, how one's affections for another person could make one pay attention to nearly everything that happened around or regarding that person. Noah had never been a man of details, and his attention span hardly ever held onto one person unless they were infinitely interesting. In a way, his attention span had actually lessened with his travels; sure, he paid a lot more attention to his surroundings, but, as people had woven themselves in and out of his life in the past few months, so he had come to pay less attention to them. Remember less details. Care less. Which suited him fine, really -- Noah had enough mirth in him, he had enough love for life to always welcome and say farewell to people with happiness. Though he didn't extend deeper care for the people that wove themselves in and out of his life, he was nonetheless always equally glad that they appeared and that he got to share experiences with them. With Oliver, it was different. For all the people Noah had let go of since he left Annapolis -- closer friends, family, even his mother, somewhat -- Oliver had... remained. Been something of a constant. It was funny, how Noah's affections for the man had lingered, as strong as they'd been when they first popped into existence. It was funny, how Noah's affections made him pay more attention to Oliver, remember more details and care more. It was funny how Noah's affections for Oliver made him register the way the other man moved closer; it was funny because it normally wasn't something Noah's mind would jump to, yet, in that moment, he even felt his heart give another chuckle, vibrating in the small space between himself and Oliver. He recovered quickly, however. Noah's eyes had admittedly darted to travel Oliver's body, though as the other man spoke, Noah managed a cheeky grin at the compliment. Well -- not only was it true, but, it was coming straight from Oliver. But then the conversation toned down a tad, and Noah sharpened his ears -- probably for the first time in history -- as Oliver went on to answer his question. He kept his dark eyes to Oliver's muddy blue, and the more the other man spoke, the more Noah could feel his face twist into a frown. First of confusion, as though what Oliver said somehow didn't make sense, or as though the other man was somehow making it up; yet the more the truth of Oliver's words settled in on his face, so it did on Noah's. Pappy? Yeah, he remembered. Noah was going to meet him. They'd talked about this. Fleetingly, Noah pondered about Pappy's residence -- did he reside here? On the farm? Oliver continued, however, so Noah's thoughts settled. Couldn't take care of him anymore... tears falling-- wait, tears? Noah searched Oliver's face -- looked right into the pain, into the loss and hurt -- as though there was more to come. As though Oliver wasn't finished, as though Pappy had lived to see past 22 November 2013. As that thought crossed his mind, and as Oliver averted his gaze, it hit Noah squarely in the -- well -- in his everything. The realization that there was no more. Oliver had finished talking, and the tears and the pain and the loss only amounted to one thing. Before Noah could stop himself, he'd scooted over to the other man, leaving no space at all between their bodies. He didn't touch Oliver -- in fact, if truth be told, Noah had no idea what to do or how to comfort his friend, so he merely let their legs touch naturally in their proximity. "Hey," he nevertheless prompted softly. He paused, unsure of what to do next. Well -- he'd barely reacted to the news, himself. Everything sprung up in him at once; he wanted to comfort Oliver, but had no idea how; he wanted to distinguish his own feelings, but couldn't figure out a way to. The loss cut deep in Oliver, that much was obvious, but... Noah had never met the older man. He felt pangs of sympathy for his friend, but, it was all strangely limited. At least when it came to his loss. When it came to his pain, Noah found himself with a strange desire to rid Oliver of it completely. He wished Pappy hadn't died, he wished he could somehow revive him and make Oliver happy again. It struck Noah that Oliver had lost Pappy only two months ago -- simultaneously not long ago at all but also too long ago; Oliver needed his support here and now, but Noah had also missed his window of proper support. Strangely, this made him blurt out, "I should have been here." Noah watched Oliver closely, an expression of concentration in his face. His mind worked furiously to come up with something else to say, something of more importance, something that could soothe Oliver properly. But what could he say? He was sorry for his loss? Well -- he was... in a way. He was sorry for Oliver's pain. He was sorry that Pappy no longer existed. But he couldn't say that, could he? It sounded... weird. Between two close friends, you didn't say "I'm sorry for your loss", did you? You said meaningful, poetic and beautiful things, and you hugged and-- hugged! It was a poor life-line, but, it was as life-line nonetheless. Without thinking it through at all, Noah quickly scooted to sit next to Oliver, slithered an arm around the other man's shoulders, and pulled him into a side-ways hug.
