He hadn’t heard that voice in years. Oliver placed it immediately, finding the brunette standing in the middle of his side of the church– admittedly the more filled side, her green eyes vibrant against a dress the same colour of the skyscrapers they’d scouted once upon a time in their youth. His heart caught in his chest, thumb rubbing over the front of his fiancee’s hand, reassuring her without saying a word.
Oliver’s jaw set straight and he swallowed thick, Blyss still looked the same as she had years ago; he was certain to him, she always would. The image of a red dress swirling around her ankles as she took the last step down the stairs from Legacy prompted a smile. Her company was a man who was beautiful– he expected no less from her, though the bewildered expression he wore matched that of everyone around him. It was true, his bride was a stranger, known to nobody prior and even now, a mystery to most– but at the rehearsals and engagements Sion had managed to charm all of them in such a way that it hadn’t mattered. Blyss hadn’t gone to any of them, but here she was, standing brazen and proud, still looking to protect him from anything.
His lips formed a small smile, unlike the blonde cherubs that flanked them and his own son who bore the rings, he was incapable of shame, from his place at the altar– in true Oliver Lovely fashion, he gave her a wink.
He hadn’t realized he’d said it. Standing up in the middle of a church on the bride’s side with the entire congregation glaring at you wasn’t ideal, but Oliver straightened his back, jaw setting straight. Perhaps he’d be excused because he had swallowed down half of the flask that the boys passed around before stepping inside– events such like these required a little bit of anaesthetic; the girls got horny afterwards but between the vows being passed around and the priest droning, one could only take so much crying sober.
Spence was turning a strange shade of red, even from where he was standing he could see a vein in Darren’s neck pulse. Oliver began to feel the oppressive need to say something; his date was tugging at his hand to get him to sit down– but there was a point in commitment where you just had to spill what you meant before you slipped a noose around your neck.
“He’s an asshole,” Ollie could hear Adam snicker from the pew behind him. “He’ll never make you happy, not really. He’ll never be home, he’ll never commit.” While smoke had grated away the niceness of his voice, there was a practiced authority to the way the Lowell’s spoke, Skye refused to burn with embarrassment across the church: her own jaw straightened as though her little brother spoke on the behalf of them both.
“I’m not saying to marry me,” he continued lamely, losing steam and tugging at his collar. “Even though I think that’s what you’re supposed to do when you object– I’m saying not to marry him. Don’t settle Spence, please don’t. Find someone who really deserves you. Please.”
He shook his head, tears falling dumbly from his eyes. There was no prose that could match the tremble in his hands, there was no storm caged within his chest. Oliver opened his mouth, trying desperately to pluck words to offer her-- shoulders caving when darkness smiled and whispered please.
They were supposed to be kids forever. This world was meant to be shaped in their image. Kaylee had once sworn from his little spot on top of the world that the meek would inherit the earth, but at this moment: it belonged to them. She was tired, so tired and he brushed a shiny track away from her freckled cheek-- she would have never wanted him to see her cry, he had never before. Kaylee was always the strong one, the one who picked them up by their shoulders and made them trudge on, no matter how much weight crushed down on her own.
Os should have been there and Oliver pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I love you, I love you,” he whispered, the only words that didn’t come choked, whispered over and over again as he passed her the bottle of pills she had asked for, one hand behind the back of her head as she swallowed them down.
Oliver’s brow lifted and his lips split into a grin. “If you’re looking for brag material for Kit, you’ve got it. You can tell him about how firm my chest is now,” the taller of the two needled, wrapping his arms around his longtime friend, dipping his head to Zach’s ear. “No homo,” came his hushed comment, dissolved in innocent laughter.
whisper for spence and ollie and ari/the character of ellie's she was seeing
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” [spence & ollie ]
The words were dropped low against the shell of an ear, almost intimate in his tone– Oliver noted the way the hairs on the back of Spencer’s head lifted, he stepped back, almost anticipating the sharpness of a palm against skin. He should have called before showing up in Brookline once more, but as he’d been ending all of his emails as of late; he had been busy. It was a strange feeling, to be in casual clothing, down by the school where he’d almost finished a degree before darting away again; at this point it was unlikely that he’d ever complete a program, though he supposed it didn’t quite matter at this point.
She spun around, her usual blur of blonde hair and a wide smile making his own lips split to match.
“Heya Spence.”
“Let’s get out of here.” [ ari & gray ] edenofink
She wasn’t sure if he’d say yes, though attendance of this entire sordid affair was entirely her idea. Ari had to lean into her date’s shoulder in the most inconspicuous of ways to drop the suggestion, pressing a kiss high on his cheek when she caught a disapproving look from Tinsely’s mother. Squirming out of a family reunion of sorts was always tricky, had her own mother been on hand she’d of sought out assistance in formulating an excuse to race out of the hall entirely. Gray looked too stiff in his suit and she felt mildly trapped in the constricting black dress, she laughed as though he had told her a joke when he leaned down to answer– after all general appearances were all that mattered in these kind of events.
“Thank fuck, you first.”
Sliding her chair back, the brunette reached for his hand, getting up as bravely and as purposefully as she could muster before beelining for the door, Gray stumbling along with her. Once they made it outside they’d share a cigarette and then hail a cab, already the girl was palming for her phone– getting an uber would likely give her aunt a heart attack: therefore, it was already a preference.
“You think I’m kidding. But I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.” / “Because nothing says heterosexuality like a gold sash.” for spence/ollie
“You think I’m kidding. But I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.”
Oliver sighed at this, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not doing it," he insisted, looking at the blonde with as much seriousness as he could muster. Her threats about puling him onto the ice floated far over his head, his size alone made it difficult for him to be forced into anything, especially when the person doing the threatening was as tiny as Spencer Michaels. She skated a loop, coming back to stop in front of him, an expression of such determination fixed upon her features that he groaned. "I'm a shitty skater." It was an allowance, and she wooped, making him scowl before he unsteadily stepped onto the ice.
“Because nothing says heterosexuality like a gold sash.”
He knotted the sash around his waist another time, rolling his eyes at his companion. "Stop being judgemental." Oliver's sister would have skinned him if she had known that her little brother was dressing in such a way, the Lowes children didn't don themselves in horrible apparel, not even in jest and only on Halloween. "I want to look like a young Hugh Hefner," the male said, lifting his chin and catching his reflection in the mirror. "I think I'm doing a banging job."
for ashver: "Wait, since when are you gay?" // "If you don't shut up, I will personally stab you in the eye with a spork." // "Kinda wanna have sex, but also kinda wanna eat pizza." // "Is this your first date?" // "Are you trying to hold my hand?" // "I don't want to get up." // "It hurts." // What are you doing home so late?" // "I burned my tongue." love ya :*
"Wait, since when are you gay?"
"Uhm…like forever I guess?", he says looking at asher weirdly. "I figured it out in 8th grade, but didn’t come out till 9th..so then I guess…", he shrugs. "Did you really not know? People usually assume since I’m in the school choir group and everything."
"If you don’t shut up, I will personally stab you in the eye with a spork."
"You could never stab me you love me waaaaaaay too much! And it’s not my fault someone decided to be a dick and go get drunk without me last night!”, he cheered still bonging up and down on the bed beside Asher knowing he was annoying the shit out of him. He loved to annoy him just a bit too much because Asher’s grumpy face was cute, and the fact that he usually got shut up with kisses helped also.
”Kinda wanna have sex, but also kinda wanna eat pizza.”
"We could always have sex and eat pizza afterwards? Or we could eat and have sex but then I’d probably choke on a slice mid moan and die….", he said giggling a bit at the mental image of trying to ride Asher’s dick and eat pizza at the same time.
”Is this your first date?”
"Am I making it that obvious? Fuck I was trying to be cool," he groaned hiding his face in his hands.
"Are you trying to hold my hand?"
"Maaaaybe," he mumbled blushing a bit as he bit at his lips. They hadn’t held hands yet and Oliver really wanted to know how well their hands would fit together, and if he’d feel just as good while holding the others hand as he did when they kissed. "Sorry…I forgot you only like me like that when you’re drunk," he whispered mostly to himself frowning and stuffing his hand back in his pocket.
"I don’t want to get up."
"You have to Ash! I’m starving…pleeeeeeease," he begged putting on his best pouty face. "If you get up I’ll give you extra kisses and cuddles when we get back from dinner," he offered, knowing the other liked his cuddles more than he usually let on.
"It hurts."
"I know baby…that’s usually what happens when you get a ball kicked in your face from two feet away," he said holding an ice pack gently up to Asher’s black eye. "Wish I could make you feel better," he said feeling defeated, because he really couldn’t do more than what he was doing right now, and he hated seeing the other in pain.
What are you doing home so late?”
"I was at the music school. I was practicing this song I wrote for my final exam…I have to record it tomorrow and since I’m trying to be a producer I have to mix the track and stuff too," he said rubbing a hand over his face completely exhausted as he walked into their shared apartment. "Sorry I didn’t call…you were probably worried," he mumbled setting down his things and walking over to the smaller boy and wrapping his arms around him. “‘M so tired…can you feed me?", he asked nuzzling his head into the others neck as he slumped down into Asher’s body.
"I burned my tongue."
"I told you it was still hot you dimwit!", he groaned as he shook his head at Asher who was still holding his scalding hot tea. The other had his tongue stuck out and was pouting, and he looked so cute. Oliver couldn’t resist his urge and took the others tea and set it aside before climbing into the smallers lap. "I can make your tongue feel better," he whispered cheekily before connecting their lips.
✉: My muse writing a letter to yours, or replying to one your’s sent. - zach and oliver
Y'know, I never understood why you had to go off to Afghanistan. Rich kids don't go to war, my dad said that once and he was right even if I wanted to stomp down on his foot when he said it.
We all worry about you, it's not keeping us young. For fucks sake, I'm too pretty to grey and wrinkle waiting by the hearth with Kit for you to come home. I almost stole your dog by the way, I think it likes me best, we share pancakes some mornings, but he doesn't get on with Kingsley so it's all very problematic. I dunno if you can answer back these letters, or I'd ask you more questions about what you're up to, but all I remember from history class is that the government blacks out all the confidential shit so if you can, send me a letter, I want it so I can say I have one. Also, you know, to hear from you.
I'm still up in New York. Turns out college isn't for me, doesn't matter how many times I try it. I've got a job, with my dad and all and it's okay. The pay's great, the view's great and the city's the same as ever. Sometimes it's lonely and I think back to highschool, back to when we were kings in our own right, and I feel sad-- but I suppose this is what growing up's all about. You need to gather up your losses, strike out the bad ties and move on with your life, no matter where it leads you.
I hope you still think about Easton from time to time, about the shit we pulled, about Dean Hathaway. I'd like to imagine that it all had a part in making me who I am and it makes me miss it less, to think that somewhere in the world, you're all looking up at the same sky and wondering what we're all up to. We'll all come together one day, I'm sure of it. Our lives have all had a way of hurtling back together, an inseparable sort of connection sits through the Easton students.
I think Kaylee is off in the world with Os, I think that Spencer is still in school, likely in love with someone who treats her like she is the sun and I have no doubt that Blyss is every bit as beautiful as she was once then. I hope Aubrey is doing alright, I hope that Anthony still makes jokes and I wish, more than anything in the world, that you are safe; that you are happy and that you are well.
