Chapter 4 - What Are We?

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"Oh, hi," Oliver said, a mixture of surprise and reluctance thick in his voice, after opening his front door the next day to reveal Will standing on his door step, again. "What are you doing here?"

"I promised you that I was gonna be here, remember," Will replied with a small smile, shuffling his feet as he stood.

He felt very awkward with Oliver, especially after how they parted the day before. Will wasn't too sure where this conversation was going to go, his mind not even made up about what he wanted to do. He was just winging it right now, really.

He'd spent hours lying on Emmie's couch, going back and forth on whether he should still see Oliver or not. First he'd think that he should definitely see Oliver, but then Stacey crept into his mind and he switched to a no. Then he thought about how happy he'd been with Oliver the last few days and it was back to a yes. Then that reminded him about Ryan, so it was a no again, but then remembered Mia in his favourite t-shirt of Ryan's, and it was back to a yes again. But then he thought about how rushing to Oliver would make him look and the no was back, only for him to scoff and think how he was taught to not give a shit about what others thought of him, completing the cycle and returning to square one.

That morning, he'd gotten sick of the endless flip flopping and decided to just head to Oliver's and see how it all panned out. Maybe Oliver didn't even want him anymore. That would hurt to hear but Will guessed that that would make things easier.

"Can I come in?" Will asked after Oliver didn't say anything to him. The blonde just looked him with a cold hard stare, making Will feel uneasy. Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to come.

"Why would you wanna do that?" Oliver finally said, his vulnerable tone deceiving his hard demeanour.

"So we can talk," Will replied simply.

"And what, you'll tell me that you don't wanna see me anymore and leave me just like that?" the blonde countered, his voice getting more and more emotional as his cold attitude started to melt away.

Will was kind of shocked. Where had this Oliver come from? The Oliver he knew was confident and self-assured. Solid and assertive. But the teen standing before him, leaning against the door jamb with a building pool of tears in his eyes, was a much different Oliver. This crying, vulnerable teen tugged at Will's heartstrings, reminding him that even the most secure of people have their weaknesses.

A hazy memory tugged at the edges of Will's brain, of a crying Oliver in a bar. Will tried to focus, remembering the night of the queer party. The blonde had been apologising profusely, scared that Will was going to leave him again. This was the only time Will had seen Oliver cry. He cried because he didn't want to lose him. Does he care about me more than I realise? Will thought to himself, though he already knew the answer. 

How had he been so blind to this?

"I'm not gonna leave you, Oliver," Will said, rushing forward to take Oliver's face in his hands. He felt the blonde lean forward and melt into him, a few tears escaping down his face. "I promise," he whispered, wiping the tears away before he leaned in and kissed Oliver. Through it he tried to convey to the other teen that he wasn't going to go anywhere. He was going to stay. The fire he felt with Oliver was too important for him to just leave.

The decision he'd been toying with for so long, eating him up inside for hours, was decided just like that.

Oliver was it. 

For now, anyway.

The other teen melted into the kiss, responding just as passionately, before he grunted and pulled away, pushing Will back at the same time. "Stop it, don't promise something you're not going to keep," he growled, panting slightly.

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