trick or treat 👻
OKAY, a snip of a "oscar recovers from his wisdom teeth op and carlos helps" carcar fic i'm working on (in a fit of annoyance about my own healing process askdjksjdks)
**🦷🦷🦷🦷**
“You live like this?” Carlos blurts out, once Oscar undoes the latch and doesn’t wait for him to follow. If Carlos insisted on buzzing like a wasp, Oscar is sure he could navigate the three meters from the doorway to the living room. Like, he didn’t have any photos on his wall yet and there’s only Ikea stuff half-built in the living areas and his sim rig in the living room. Big deal.
He starts typing a furious reply on his phone, until–
“Oh wait, you can’t talk,” Carlos says, toeing off his shoes.
Oscar turns around, and flashes him a sarcastic thumbs up. While he doesn’t consider himself the most verbose of people at most times, he feels oddly handicapped by the lack of quick back and forth that they normally swing at each other like a padel match.
“Okay, I will just talk, and you can type on your phone. Or we can both be quiet. Where is your freezer?” Carlos perks up, like Piñon smelling a bone. Oscar knows all about Piñon, because one time after they were messing around, Carlos had pulled his phone off the nightstand to show him pictures of his dog. And Oscar had talked about the two dogs he grew up with at home, and how Rosie was getting on and then he’d been hit by a wave of nostalgia so strong it had surprised him and then he didn’t want to talk about any of that any more.
“Go and lie down. Did you take your meds?” Didn’t think I’d need them, Oscar types.