Night of the Dancing Flame [gideon]

[Gideon Crumb]

“I just don’t want her to feel like she’s all alone,” There was something so very honest about how he said it. Well he was always honest, perhaps it was just more obvious than before. The way he was looking at her, curved over her was almost protective. He could admire that. “She looks like a doll when she’s asleep.” She had looked like a doll for the few moments that she had been awake still too. Make up on a little too perfectly. The sort of face that he knew was pretty without the make up, but that it wasn't anything like the face that she had whenever she was wearing it. Two different people. Though, the snoring did make her sound a lot more human, approachable. He didn't much like the sound of snoring, but it didn't bother him the way it did some, at least whenever he was awake like it it was almost endearing. Oliver kept talking to her like that, he was going to start to feel like he knew her. “Usually.” Still like a doll, just a more human doll. He was curious as to how they had met, how Oliver had gotten wrapped up in all of this, modeling business. If he was just one those those who had just been discovered walking down the street. Probably.

Well, at least he had been curious about his job, and London, and work, until he got all close like. “I as well. Full beards are rather terrible for kissing.” So he wasn't reading too much into it. He had been seeing what he thought he was seeing. Whether is was Fuzzy Naval induced or not, he had no way of knowing. “You can always see a person’s true emotions displayed in their eyes. It’s impossible to hide.” What was that supposed to mean? What was he looking at in his eyes? He blinked slowly, unsure of just what he was saying, without even noticing it. Hopefully it was good things, not the...inappropriate thoughts. Sometimes he just couldn't help himself. He was...pretty PG rated most of the time, but other times, not so much. Gideon viewed sexuality as a fluid concept, not much in the 'right' or 'wrong' categories as far as he was concerned. People were people. He tended to find most people attractive in one way or another, and Oliver was the sort of attractive that just about anybody could notice. Obvious, by his job. He made a living off of his looks. It wasn't that Giddy found himself unattractive he just found his looks rather plain. He was softer around the middle, and only had decent arms because he carried heavy things a lot. He didn't work out, he didn't eat very well...he was just common place. Maybe Oliver finally noticed that, coming up close like that because he was backing away, even if it was only fractionally. The grip on his face was gone, leaving cold imprints of fingertips still on his skin. That should have been his warning sign, right there, the cold fingers.

“I’m sorry. Was I making you uncomfortable?” “No,” Gideon interjected, but Oliver was still talking. ”I was trying to make you out, but you were right after all. You really are different than in our school days. You would say the funniest sort of things. I much preferred you to everyone else.” A smile broke across Gid's lips, his hands relaxing finally, “As opposed to now?”It was easier, to joke than to make serious conversation, or...whatever that had just been. Oliver might have let him go but he didn't move away...“The air still feels the same between us, doesn’t it?” Gideon smiled and shook his head. Sort of, but not really. He couldn't put that into words, not that he really wanted to. His normal moral compass was warring with his brain. He was a nice guy, most of the time. Didn't like to rock the boat...most of the time. Oliver was one of the people from school he looked back on most fondly, but then again...he hadn't seen him in four years now, and it very well could be another four since he saw the man again...and that thought was the one that won out. After London was better, Oliver would be on his way, and that would just be that. Besides, what's the worst that could happen, if he got punched...well that would suck. His hands moved quickly, too quickly forward to the model's hips, and paused at the thought of getting punched, but he pulled Oliver just that much closer anyway, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Chickened out. At the very last second.

Tag: Oliver
Words: 781
Notes: -ba dum
Wearing: Just slapped togerther

[Oliver Dorner]

there for all to see, entranced---
burned by the flame.

---

Yes, he wanted to say, I can read more in your eyes than you want me to know. I can also control you if prompted, one day. As of now, Oliver had barely attempted compulsion and was astonishingly bad at it for someone who was so convincing all on his own, without the use of supernatural assistance. Maybe that was exactly it. He was too creative at persuasion to the extent that compulsion was unnatural and unfitting. It also felt like taking the entire interesting aspect of life out, because the manipulation wasn’t surprising. Oli knew that he wouldn’t have liked it if someone forced him to behave against his nature, and what kind of karma would he be injecting into himself if he did it? So he didn’t do anything at all to Giddy or his eyes, other than read them the way anyone would. Besides, he liked giddy untouched the way he was, making his own choices. Gideon’s own choices were so unique and creative to Oli, it would be a shame for someone to try to take it away from him.

As he listened to his comment, he smiled again. See? Still making the funnies, and probably always would. He had an amusing perspective on life. Oliver would venture to say that Giddy would be a very hilarious person to be around at a funeral. He’d much rather have Gideon speak at his funeral than the normal crowd, all forlorn and dreary. Hm. Funeral. Well, he was already dead, wasn’t it? Technically speaking, then, Oli had missed his own funeral. Weird, but enough of that. “As opposed to now?” Oliver sucked in his bottom lip and made a seething noise between his teeth. “No, I would say definitely not. You haven’t lost your charismatic spark,” he said good naturedly, chuckling. Gideon had probably passed that onto his daughter, another funny Crumb in the family. Wow, Oliver had nearly forgotten about her until now. He knew the mother had taken off, but was the little girl still living with Giddy? Oli could hardly think of taking care of himself sometimes, he wouldn’t have a clue how to take care of a child at his age. It’s no wonder that Gideon had changed in several ways, but it was nice to see that he was still the same, slightly awkward Gideon in others. He had a habit of blushing whenever someone complimented him, and it radiated through his pale cheeks.

But they weren’t joking, not really. It was quiet back here and one could actually hear themselves think. Other than London’s drunken snoring, nothing disoriented Oli and he was free to listen to Giddy’s soft breathing; the intake of breath with every word and every movement or shift in his manner. Now they were face-to-face in a way that couldn’t just be passed off the second a customer or a friend made their way over and disrupted their conversation. They were no distractions and Oliver was looking at him in that way again, and Gideon was looking back. He might have actually moved; sat down on the bed and given Giddy his space if it had gone on any longer, but that’s not what happened. He’d been right about it, not to sound arrogant, when Gideon pulled him forward by the hips. Oliver pressed his thigh against Gideon’s thigh, his hip bone touching the other. There, a kiss on his cheek. It was so perfect and so sweet that Oli had no choice but to smile. He’d found that very endearing. The Gideon he’d known was still in there.

Oliver reached out and took Giddy by the hands, bringing them back to his own hips and guiding them around to his back, showing him how he’d liked to be touched. Then he leaned in, his breath blowing against the other boy’s face. “Do you know what I’d like to do?” Oli always had a preference for showing. So lightly, he rubbed his bottom lip up and over Giddy’s a couple of times, just before he gave him a firmer kiss that screamed something much more sensual than a kiss on the cheek. He hadn’t even thought about London being in the room, so passed out nothing in the world could ever wake her. Oliver’s eyes fluttered softly as his lashes brushed against Gideon’s, taking his time with the kiss. He thought of kissing as a kind of art – if you weren’t leaving an impression with the other person, it had no purpose. Gideon’s lips were tenderly warm in comparison to his own, a gift of sorts. He grazed him with his nose, enjoying the sensation of skin-on-skin with someone who was still wonderfully alive. Oliver could hear a new sound; the sound of Giddy’s heart pounding and wanting to ricochet out of his chest. Oli’s heart didn’t beat, it couldn’t. Despairingly, he sometimes questioned if he still had one, or if it had faded away to dust when he was bitten. Oliver pressed the palm of his hand to Gideon’s chest and felt the pulsing in his hand exactly where he might have felt his own heartbeat, if it existed. “Your heart is racing.”

---

tag : gideon

words : 866

notes
outfit : eh good enough

[Gideon Crumb]

At some point, Gideon was going to have to return to work. Somebody was going to come looking for him. He hadn't even officially taken a break yet, that girl was probably pissed at him, muttering under her breath at him as she poured glass after glass of that stupid imported lager and wanting to know where the hell he was, right about now. He could practically feel it, knocking at the back of his brain. The sort of thing he should be thinking about but very much didn't want to. Wanted to ignore it, wanted to stand right here in the quiet for a little bit longer. Until his nerves decided if they were going to go one way or the other. He wanted to open that little door, for just a moment, and shove the embarrassment that he was feeling over kissing Oliver on the cheek right in there with the things to avoid thinking about, but with his luck, that door would come slamming open and he would ruined all of it. So he was just going to have to be red cheeked and feeling a little warmer than he should have been. Okay, a lot redder than he should have been. Damn his inability to tan.

Oliver was a soothing presence, not pulling away, his thigh touching the other, his cold hands wrapping around Gideon's...sliding his hands over the fabric of his pants to that of his shirt, under the jacket that seemed to be more of a fashion choice than a functional one. So much closer than a moment before, and they had already been close. “Do you know what I’d like to do?” Gideon's lips pressed together as he looked up without answer. That had better have been rhetorical. From the way his lip brushed against his own, he assumed that yes, it was...because what followed next left no room for talking. Even his lips were cool to the touch, no doubt from the fact that his own had to be heated by now, one thing that he absolutely had practice in, was kissing. His fingertips pushed into the curved muscles of Oliver's back, reflex to hold him closer. So different than kissing a woman, and at the same time...exactly the same. Eyelashes brushed against his skin, soft mesh of his stubble against the artfully groomed of the Oliver. He was still very much the type of person who was perfectly content with an hour long, sitting on the couch doing nothing else, make out session. Maybe that made him juvenile, in a sense. He didn't care. He just, enjoyed the act of kissing somebody who wanted to be kissed, and he could look past any number of things, the cold lips, the steady posture...because Oliver knew what he was doing...and...

And there was a hand on his chest. Fingers flattening over his heart. “Your heart is racing.” Gideon's eyes opened slowly, glancing downward at his chest, “Well, uh, yeah...” there was no reason to be embarrassed about his heart rate, was there? Shouldn't it be a compliment? Or something? His brain didn't want to commit to one singular train of thought...”Not a bad thing is it?”
Tag: Oliver
Words: 599
Notes: -ba dum
Wearing: Just slapped togerther

[Oliver Dorner]

there for all to see, entranced---
burned by the flame.

---

I don’t think when a person has a reunion with an old friend for the first time, they typically end up kissing in the storage room of an artsy music club. Which then made sense, when you inserted Oliver into it. Oliver just didn’t do the typical, and it didn’t look as though Gideon did either. Quite the way to show your appreciation for another person. Oli needed this kind of affection interaction. He’d always craved it, and taken it, for years. He was that way in school. Oliver had been popular with the girls and he tended to do it on a deeper psychological level because he didn’t get any of that at home. He had a family, but he was not that kind of a family. No one hugged, no one even allowed the other to brush arms in the hallway. The first time someone ever kissed Oliver, it gave him something to fill the empty and he had been doing very well at it ever since. No one lived with him in his apartment, and when Bridgette was over…..the apartment felt emptier than ever. So maybe it wasn’t typical to kiss someone he had just become reacquainted with that night, but it was something Oli needed. Perhaps he was just selfish that way.

Of course, Oliver had no idea if Gideon had ever kissed a man before, or ever thought about it. No, he must have thought about it, otherwise he wouldn’t be here. Regardless, Giddy was a good kisser, and he was a good receiver. None of the rushed, crushing of the lips, tongue down the throat and off like a racehorse that he was used to from other people. Good. It would have ruined it. It would have made it all in unmemorable. ”Not a bad thing is it?” Why would he think it was a bad thing? If it didn’t race at all, if it held perfectly still, Oliver would have been extremely disappointed. It would have clearly meant he’d had no effect on him, and truth be told, Oli was used to having an effect on people. He also didn’t like the idea of someone else kissing him back just to be polite. Luckily, there was nothing “polite” about this. Oliver felt the electric pull. He rubbed his hand soothingly over that place on Gideon’s chest, shaking his head negatively. “Of course not. It’s the best reminder of being alive.” And your own fragility, and temporariness. Oliver wouldn’t have minded it, staying that way. He was always going to be fragile, whether made of flesh, or blood, or stone and ice.

Oliver drew him in, kissing him again with small touches. His own hands moved to the hem of Gideon’s shirt and he gripped it, the material sliding between his fingers. Giddy was wearing his work shirt, probably the same one he wore every night, but he still looked good in it. There was no need to dress fancy or pay for expensive clothes to set the fire in someone’s eyes. Keep it simple. Oli had to focus harder than normal to keep his lips where they belonged, and deny them of wandering over to Giddy’s neck. He didn’t trust himself in a state of hunger, and it was probably what was currently making him soft and cautious in his embrace. Oli’s tongue had only just swept its tip teasingly against Gideon’s closed lips when his ears picked up the sound of an excited patron outside the doors cheering on the band, or someone. There was a swell in the sound of the crowd proceeding it, and Oliver’s lips tilted into a frown. “I’d forgotten you were working. I should let you go, shouldn’t I?” An interesting way to word it, but since he did have Gideon fairly pinned up against the shelf, it was hysterically accurate.

---

tag : gideon

words : 645

notes
outfit : eh good enough

[Gideon Crumb]

Clearly – Gideon needed to get out more. Or be alone with people more often, or something of some sort. He wasn't normally his forward. Maybe there was some sort of draw to Oliver – which he didn't deny had always been there in some small measure. Perhaps it was just the wash of old feelings and current attractiveness – the smell of old boxes and liquor in the room. Well, he could try all that he wanted but he didn't think that he was going to be able to explain it. Explain just why he had seen fit to put his hands onto this man's hips or how unusual. He could think about it all he wanted but it was done. He had already done it, and Oliver hadn't slapped him yes. That had to stand for some. Positive signal. Oliver had been drinking, Gideon hadn't. Maybe that was worth taking into consideration. But – it took two to kiss. He hadn't been imagining that. The movement against his own lips. Fingers pressing against his chest, Gideon's own fingers flexing against the much firmer frame in front of him. “Of course not. It’s the best reminder of being alive.” He couldn't help but to smile and nod, that was a good way of putting it. But there was something about the way that Oliver said it, something to his tone. Almost wistful but he had no idea why.

His thoughts were silenced by the pulling of Oliver's hands, light touch and kisses that were making his breath catch more and more with each one. Unexpected – but very much welcome. How strange they must have looked. Oliver was beautiful, even for a man. Strong bone structure and perfect skin. Long, willowy limbs with a perfect ratio of muscle. No wonder he was a model. Gideon – well Gideon had bought this shirt second hand, and couldn't work an iron if he wanted to. He didn't even know what night cream was for and his idea of styling his hair- was washing it. Clearly – lucky Gideon here. He was struggling enough to keep his own hands respectful – while almost wishing that Oli's would slip just under that fabric, he could almost feel the cold touch less than an inch away. He should have minded his setting – that there was a girl passed out five feet from them, and he was on the clock. He was supposed to be working right now and the woman that he had minding the bar wasn't anywhere near ready for something like that. “I’d forgotten you were working. I should let you go, shouldn’t I?” Keyword, was should have minded that. Instead – well he wasn't thinking with his brain. “Well.” his gaze lifted, reluctantly. “Probably” but his head dipped instead, letting his eyes close just far enough not to see the woman on the cot as his lips brushed against the skin of Oliver's neck...his eyes squeezing shut as his forehead dropped against the skin. Yes. He should get back. Groaning softly he righted himself, offering Oli a weak smile.

---

Tag: Oliver
Words: 519
Notes: -boo on me.
Wearing: Just slapped togerther

[Oliver Dorner]

there for all to see, entranced---
burned by the flame.

---

“Probably.” He wasn’t surprised by Gideon’s agreement. It’s what anyone with a job would do, yes? Anyone intent on keeping it, that is. Of course, that did not prevent a hint of disappointment from the other lad. He hadn’t had a good kiss for a while now, not from someone he actually enjoyed kissing. It’s sad he had to make that sort of distinction. It is what it is, as they say. Gideon was so clearly self –conscious in a lot of ways, and perhaps Oliver shouldn’t have been attracted to that, but he was. He tired of all the pretentious assholes you ran into in the modeling business. They were either overly effeminate for his personal preference, self –righteous, self-entitled, discourteous, vain, or all of the above. It was no wonder he was bored. Not that Gideon was just a solution to boredom - he was different. Oliver didn’t rightly know what his point was. Perhaps he was too used to getting everything he wanted exactly the way that he wanted it.

He could hear London’s soft snores on the cot, obviously already deep in sleep. If the living dead were to come parading into the room, it’s unlikely she would notice. If he’d been aware of any of Giddy’s self-criticizing thoughts in the last few minutes, he would have rolled his eyes. There was nothing about Oliver that Gideon couldn’t be if he wanted to, but Oli didn’t want him to. He didn’t want to be around people who were exactly by himself, because therein lied the point: he was around himself twenty-four seven as it was. Yes he vaguely noticed that Gideon had no sense of style and a general lack of upkeep, but it didn’t matter. Truly, Oliver had not paid it a passing thought. He found Giddy handsome, and rather endearing, and he liked his disinterest in facial creams. As if there wasn’t anything more important to think about. It certainly wasn’t what occupied Oli’s mind all day every day, even in the business he worked in.

Gideon may have been as reluctant to leave the moment as Oliver, if the tracing of his lips over the curve of Oliver’s neck were any indication. Oli gave the smallest of nods, kissed Gideon once delicately on the tip of his nose, and then pulled away sharply, giving the other man room to breathe and actually move. Oliver slipped over to the opposite wall inside the cramped space and pressed his back against it, looking up at the ceiling as he tried focusing on the one source of light. When Giddy’s mouth had touched his neck, Oli could suddenly feel the pain in his teeth, wrenching down through his throat and into his stomach. He was utterly starving, and being a new vampire came with control issues, to put it nicely. Never had Oliver hurt another person, a shocking feat for someone who hadn’t had anyone to mentor him after the change. It was likely only made possible because of Oliver’s very gentle nature to begin with. When he felt the dizziness leave him, he offered Gideon a tight smile.

“I’m sure she’s wondering where you’ve gone,” he stated in a voice tight with tension, referring to the woman that Gideon had momentarily turned the bar over to. He didn’t want to sound odd, and he most certainly didn’t want to sound upset, but he was swiftly spiraling out of control. Everything had been going so well, but now he felt the thirst of a wild animal. His mouth had been uncomfortably close to sensitive parts of Gideon’s body; places where the flesh could be so easily broken. Even now, Giddy was very well trapped in here with Oliver if he wanted a taste. He pushed away from the wall and half leaped to the door, yanking it open. “I need to get air. I’ll return in a little while to check on London and take her home,” he forced out in a great big rush, before pushing back out into the café. If he stayed in that room a second longer, he might do something he would never forgive himself for. Even as it was, Oli didn’t know how he was going to make it back to his flat to get a blood vial without eating anybody.

---

tag : gideon

words : 721

notes
outfit : eh good enough

[Gideon Crumb]

It had been, a little while...more than a little while since Gideon had enjoyed the presence of another person. In this way – he never really thought of himself as having a type. One gender or the other, one height to hair color, no particular personality facet that he considered a requirement for his attentions. He had tried to figure out something that he liked over others, and collectively the handful of people that he had dated over the span of his life, were vastly different. It wasn't just the blast from the past this time, that couldn't be what was spurring this sudden attraction to Oliver, and he just kept thinking about it, whether there had been latent feelings from back in school or not. His thought was being constantly punctuated by the steady, constant gaze of the person who just now moved away from him. Who decided that personal space was a thing? Why was this something that people thought needed to be? He wanted to disavow personal space in this moment, and keep the boy with the tempered skin close, much closer. Still moving, all the way away from the shelves he was pushed up again, though he wasn't really pushed up against them anymore. In fact, holding this position was a little silly, so he shifted. Moving to stand on his own two feet, centered. Maybe it was closing the space, less than a foot, but it was something.

“I’m sure she’s wondering where you’ve gone,” That was a change. Gideon's hands shifted to the shelves behind him, fingers tapping against the bottom of the shelf, unsure why the change in tone. Was it because he was supposed to turn down the need to return to work? He hadn't done this sort of thing in awhile, and it wasn't that the girl on the cot was starting to stir either, so he didn't know if it was some sort of new thing, social faux pax that he didn't understand that he went against. Maybe it was the shirt after all. Gideon almost laughed at his own thought process, but managed to keep it under wraps. He could have pushed past it, the tension. Could have started talking about something else or beer breath or any number of things that he knew would ease the tension, just like he used to do every time conversations with him had lulled in the past...but Oliver was leaving and Gideon felt like a fish. Leaving? He pushed away from the shelves fully as Oliver yanked the door open, half in half out, “I need to get air. I’ll return in a little while to check on London and take her home,” What? What happened? “Oli?” he questioned to the retreating back, but he was gone. The door slamming shut in his wake, and the woman he left behind didn't so much a stir. She really was out.

He stood there for a moment, until his blood calmed, and he was fit to be around people again, grabbing a case of beer as he was leaving, because what else was he supposed to do? He supposed work, was what was needed, setting the case on the floor behind the bar, tapping the girl on the shoulder so that she knew he was back. Which, of course, was instantly met by disapproving looks. ”What ya do to him? Like a plague you are...he was cute too...” Gideon's shoulder rolled as he moved behind the bar, picking up empty glasses and taking orders...wondering if he was going to get to catch Oliver when he came back for London, if he was in fact, coming back for London...

---

Tag: Oliver
Words: 614
Notes: Over? Or new?
Wearing: Just slapped togerther

[Oliver Dorner]

there for all to see, entranced---

burned by the flame.

---

He heard Gideon say his name. Playing human, he could pretend it fell to nothing. Oliver had heard all too well and he felt a guilt weighing him down, turning bones to lead and skin to copper. Yet, there would be a heavier guilt if he remained in the confined back room. Poor Gideon, he was so confused. It wasn’t Oliver who would be trapped with Giddy, it was Giddy trapped with him. A lamb with a lion? Not at all fair to anyone. So he needed to leave – now. He felt Giddy’s co-worker give him a watchful eye and it was no surprise; Oli bolted from the scene as speedily as he could without being blatantly obvious that he wasn’t actually human. He successfully dodged all crowds of people and was out the front door - a considerable distance from where he had just been - in under a minute’s time. And, although the fresh air calmed and refocused Oliver for a few precious moments, the excruciating burning stemming from the back of his throat into his canines overtook the feeling almost immediately after.

He closed his eyes, ignoring the presence of people filtering around on all sides of him to enter the intimate music club.

But even if Oliver didn’t look, he could still smell them.

Forcing himself to walk away, with the beginnings of mania in his eyes, he kept them downcast and made his way around to a dimly lit back alley. If he could just stand here for a minute up against the suspiciously stained wall and have some support; if he could relax and remember who he was and that those were living, breathing people out there, he could make it. Oli had made it before. He was a new vampire with no help to aid him in transition, but he had made it this far.

That was something to be proud of.

But Oli was not very proud. He was not very proud at all, in fact. He felt even less proud as he ventured further and further from the club and stopped dead in his tracks as a very drunk twenty-something blonde swayed toward him. And she had come from where, exactly? Oliver furrowed his brow. You wouldn’t understand just how hungry he was. The best way to describe the affliction was being addicted to meth, and having someone wave a three pound bag of it directly in front of his face. It was less a temptation and more a life force.

It was that fast.

Oli had no understanding of what he was doing until his fingers were latched around the poor woman’s neck, each short nail imbedded harshly into her skin as much as his teeth were. He thought he would be disgusted in the moment if it ever happened, but it seemed all too natural. His full lips and expert teeth found their way to a vein almost immediately and in her drunken stupor, her hands seized up and gripped weakly around Oliver’s forearm. He drank from her, stealing away her blood like a rat in the night.

This was the most amazing thing to ever touch his lips. It was pure nectar from the tree of life raining down on him. It was rich and succulent and the thick fluid easily slid down his throat and warmed his stomach. He closed his eyes, holding the silent woman just a little bit tighter as her knees began to buckle in shock over what was happening to her. What was happening to her was awful, but what was happening to Oliver was wonderful.

But then his ears heard the tragic, frightened whimper escape from her mouth, and Oliver was able to let go. I say able, because this had previously been one hundred percent out of his control. He pushed himself away from her in almost as much fright as she was experiencing, and watched as she tilted woozily and finally slid down against the wall, slumping over. Oli could hear her breathing, knew she was still alive. He had no idea how much blood he had taken. He had been entirely too caught up in a hypnotic state to know. As much trouble as he could have been in, Oliver had to help her.

It seemed Oli was all about incapacitating, and then helping, women tonight. He dropped her off outside the wizard hospital, stole himself a bag of blood, and went back to his flat. Oliver remained there for quite a bit of time until it dawned on him that London was still laying on a cot back at Haus De Musik and no one in the building knew where she lived. Gideon had been placed on babysitter duty, London was drunk and unconscious, and Oliver had just taken a bite out of an innocent girl’s neck.

The night was going well.

He didn’t even change. There was only a drop of blood on his collar, easy enough to explain away. Looking rather more haggard than two hours ago, Oli returned to Giddy’s place of work and found him at the bar. The club was nearly empty, the last remaining partygoers filing out the front door as Oliver filed in. He popped up behind Giddy and tapped him on the back, giving him a weary look. “Is she still asleep?” Oli gave a nod toward the storage door. “I can take her now. I’ll help her get to bed.” Carrying ninety-three pound London would be a breeze for almost anyone. He was more worried about what London’s state would be when she finally awoke from the dead in the morning, not to mention his ever present thoughts about what he had done only an hour ago. She wasn’t dead, he had to remember. At least, he didn’t think she was dead.

Oliver couldn’t believe what he had done, and now he was standing here in front of Giddy like nothing at all had happened, and doing a very poor acting job on top of it. “I hope you didn’t in trouble because of me,” he added offhandedly, looking away distractedly for the waitress who was nowhere to be found. "Gideon." Oli curled the name around his tongue, tasting it once more. He liked the sound and feel of it almost as much as he liked the person it was attached to. Reliable giddy. Oliver wondered if he ever got tired of being the reliable one. It was clear to Oli that he thought about himself often, and Giddy thought of himself hardly ever at all. He blinked at the other boy, a man even, with his bloodshot eyes, slightly red even through the colored contacts. "I suppose I'm sorry I left her here." He supposed.

---

tag : gideon

words : too long

notes
outfit : eh good enough