Archive of Our Own

“I'm gonna be sick.”

“You're fine,” Connor says, and he puts a reassuring hand on Oliver's back. “They're not that scary.”

“They're gonna hate me,” Oliver says, and he's wringing his hands as they walk up the porch steps. “They're gonna laugh at you, and--”

“Hey,” Connors stops at the top step and stands in front of Oliver. “Calm down, okay? There's no need for this worrying.” He has to hold back a smirk as he recalls the time his boss called him a 'worrier'. “They'll love you, okay?”

Oliver swallows and shakes his head. Connor rolls his eyes.

“Enough with the paranoia, Ollie! They'll love you.” He takes Oliver's hand in his and starts towards the door, but stops and turns back. “If mom starts on about centrepieces or confetti, just ignore her. Or baby clothes.”

Before Oliver has the chance to even ask why his boyfriend's mother would feel the need to discuss baby clothes with him, Connor has opened the front door and pulled him in out of the cold.

“We're here,” Connor calls, and he gives Oliver a small smile. “Be gentle with him.”

Oliver doesn't manage to catch a breath before the Walsh family has descended on him. Mrs. Walsh is the first to pull him into a bone crunching embrace, cooing at him and patting his cheeks, offering warm drinks and promising dinner won't be long. Oliver tries to thank her and hand over the chocolates and wine he'd brought, but the sight of them sends Connor's mom into a giddy mess, pulling him into another hug before running off after a timer that's started going off in another room.

Next up is Connor's father, who's quite conservative looking but not at all as scary as Oliver imagined. He shakes Oliver's hand warmly, and says, “It's nice to finally meet you. We almost thought you were imaginary!” He pats Oliver's shoulder and smiles heartily.

“Thank you for having me, Mr. Walsh.” Oliver says, and he's proud of the fact his voice isn't as shaky as he'd expected.

“Boys!” A voice booms next to Oliver, and he startles a little. “Sorry!” A woman says, and Oliver's surprised he didn't see her standing there before. “Gemma,” she holds out her hand. “Connor's sister.”

“Oh! Hi!” Oliver says, and he notices she has the same smile as Connor – beautiful and mischievous. Two young boys run over to her, taking a side each.

“Boys, what do we say?”

“Hi Uncle Connor's boyfriend,” the brothers (twins? Oliver isn't sure) say in unison, both looking very bored. As Oliver replies with a “hi,” they run off together, making pew pew lazer gun noises.

Gemma smiles and rolls her eyes, before she shoots a little look at Connor who's been standing against the staircase the whole time, watching the whirlwind interactions. As Gemma walks away, Oliver turns to look at his boyfriend, eyebrows raised.

“That was...breath taking,” Oliver says with a nervous laugh, and Connor smiles before reaching out to pull Oliver's scarf from 'round his neck.

“Yeah, they're kinda like that,” he says with an apologetic tone. “The rest of the family aren't so bad.”

“The rest?” Oliver asks in astonishment, allowing Connor to take his coat.

“Yeah, just my grandma and uncles...and a few cousins...” He pulls his own coat off and hangs it over the bannister. “To be honest, I don't even know who my mom's invited.” He turns back to see Oliver's shocked and ever so slightly outraged face. “Hey, she's excited! This is a big deal for her!”

“Why?” Oliver asks in a hushed voice. “It's not like I'm your first boyfriend.”

Connor sticks his hands into his pockets. “No, but...”

It takes a few seconds, but soon Oliver realises what Connor's implying. “I'm-I'm the first...she's met?”

Connor shrugs. “I never really felt like she needed to meet anyone else.”

There's no words in Oliver's vocabulary to convey the feeling that rises in his his chest, and he genuinely thinks he might cry. All he can do I reach out and take his partner's hand and give it a little squeeze.

“Okay, kids!”

They both look up to see Mrs. Walsh standing in the doorway, a dish towel in her hands and a smile on her face. “Dinner time!”

Gemma is bright eyed and shining as she picks at her salad, telling Oliver all about some new deal she's just closed and he doesn't have the heart to tell her he has no idea what she's talking about. When the elder Walsh child asked if he wanted to meet for lunch he'd almost shit his pants.

“She just wants to get to know you,” Connor had told him, kissing his shoulder and running his finger tips across Oliver's naked stomach. “She's cool, honestly. Used to set me up with guys all the time.”

Oliver had looked down as his sleepy boyfriend with a stern look. “Yeah, that makes me feel better.”

“I'm boring you, aren't I?”

Oliver snaps out of his thoughts. “What? No! Sorry, I--”

“No, it's fine,” Gemma says and reaches for her water glass. “I have a tendency to rattle on.” She takes a sip, sits her glass back down and smiles at him. “Oliver,” she says. “Tell me something about you. Other than the fact you're apparently amazing in bed,” she adds.

Oliver chokes on his own breath and almost knocks his own salad off the pretty white cafe table as he reaches for his water glass.

“Oh!” Gemma laughs, and she reaches out to swat at his arm. “Con said you were easy to tease.”

“Sorry,” Oliver laughs. “You caught me a little off guard.” He decides then and there that Connor and his sister are more alike than just sharing a smile.

“So,” Gemma says, picking at a piece of lettuce. “I.T.?”

Oliver nods. “Yeah, it's pretty boring, really. Just typical coding and--”

“Thank you,” Gemma blurts out, and Oliver stops, slightly taken back.

“Oh, uhm, it's a pretty simple job, nothing--”

“No, not the I.T.,” Gemma laughs, and she picks up her napkin and wipes at her eyes. Oliver realises she's slightly teared up, and he starts to panic.

“Are you okay? What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Gemma laughs. “I just.” She stops, gathering her thoughts. “I know it was weird, me asking you to lunch when we've only met once.”

“No, I just--”

“No, it is. It's just...I didn't get a chance to talk to you at dinner the other week, and I really just want to thank you.”

“Thank me for what?” Oliver asks.

“For Connor.” Gemma smiles, eyes glistening. “He's different. In a good way. He's happier than I've ever seen him.”

“Oh, well,” Oliver can feel a a blush creeping up his neck. “I don't think I--”

“Oh no, it's you,” Gemma says, and she reaches out to take one of his hands in her own. “He's calmer than he's ever been. I don't know if you know, but he's a bit of a worrier, no matter how much he--”

“--tries to hide it,” Oliver smiles. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“Well, you make him happy. I think...I think he was looking for something, you know? I think that's why he ran around so much.”

Oliver tries not to squirm. He's completely comfortable with Connor's promiscuity past, but whenever it's mentioned he can't quite let go of the cheating incident and feels the need to retreat into himself.

“Whatever it was, it's gone now,” Gemma says, and she lets go oh his hand. “He's found it. He's found you.”

Oliver purses his lips. He's not quite sure what to say.

“I know, it sounds so cheesy, and he'd kill me for saying that,” she laughs and runs a hand through her hair. “I just. I wanted to thank you. For Connor. For...for caring.”

Oliver shakes his head and smiles softly. “To be honest, I don't know why he's with me.”

“What? Why?”

“It's so easy to love him,” he says, and he keeps his head ducked so he doesn't meet her eyes. “He's amazing. I'm just...boring.”

“Hey!” Gemma leans over to slap his arm. He looks up. “Don't start with that. He warned me you were super big on the low self esteem.”

Oliver smiles softly and nods at her courteously. “Well. It's a pleasure to be in love with your brother, Gemma.”

Gemma just grins and sips on her water.

“Uh, Connor?” Oliver calls out from the lounge. “Why is your mother sending me table cloth swatches?”

Connor groans from the bathroom. “She isn't.”

“Oh yes she is,” Oliver says, bemused. “And she wants to know whether I prefer cream or red for ties and handkerchiefs. Something you wanna tell me?”

Another groan. “She'll probably bring brochures to dinner.” Connor appears in the doorway, and Oliver twists on the sofa to look up at him. “I knew it was too good to last,” Connor says dramatically, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the door frame.

“Is she...is she planning our wedding?” Oliver asks incredulously.

Connor just nods, eyes still closed and his face slowly turning a brilliant shade of red.

“Wow,” Oliver says, and looks back down at his cellphone as it beeps in his hand. This time it's different types of font, mostly fancy calligraphy. “I had no idea we were engaged.”

“We're not,” Connor whines, and he climbs over the back of the sofa and falls against Oliver's legs. “She just wants another wedding to plan. And more grandchildren.”

Oliver giggles as a picture message of different types of tartan comes through. “I think we may need to explain the birds and the bees to your mother.”

Connor makes a face and elbows him playfully.

They sit in silence for a short while, more messages coming in, each ping causing Oliver's stomach to dance in a nervous but exciting way.

“I mean,” Connor pipes up as though they'd been having a conversation. “Maybe, like, one day...we could...” He trails off and stares at the wall. Oliver doesn't say anything, but just watches him.

“Like, if one of us...” Connor continues. “If one of us were to ask, you know. If we wanted to. Maybe.”

Oliver puts his cellphone down and opens his legs a little wider, pulling Connor against his chest, wrapping his arms around his body. “Are you asking me to maybe marry you one day?”

Connor fidgets, elbowing him gently. “No, I just mean--”

“Because I would.” Connor stops moving and goes silent. “One day. I'd like to. I want to.”

It takes a few seconds, but soon Connor says in a quiet voice, “Me too.”

They're silent for what feels like an eternity, but it's not uncomfortable. Oliver just tightens his hold on his boyfriend, and presses as kiss to the back of his forehead. Connor feels like he could just melt into Oliver's chest, just stay there forever...but the doorbell pulls them both out of their shared trance, and Connor groans as he gets to his feet. When he gets to the door, he looks through the peep-hole.

“God dammit,” he says, unlocking the door. “I told you she'd have brochures...”

Oliver is soaked to the bone, and he just knows he's gonna be sick for days, but he refuses to go home until he absolutely has to.

Tonight's fight wasn't like their normal fights. Tonight was different.

He knows it was his fault. He was the one that started snapping, the one that threw the first insult, then the first missile. (Okay, it was a cushion, but still. It wasn't cool.) Connor had looked so confused and hurt, and as much as it broke Oliver's heart, he couldn't stop himself. He wanted to hurt Connor.

It was the illness, of course. That's what the fight was about. Oliver had a check-up due, and he was already feeling tender about it before he discovered the PEP box in Connor's bag.

“Uh, why do you have that?” Oliver had asked, and Connor looked like a rabbit in the headlights.

“Uh, I was just...” Connor looked like he was trying to come up with some excuse, but then he just sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “The condom split the other night, I was just being careful.”

“What?” Oliver had asked in a harsher tone than was probably needed.

“I didn't want you to worry, it's not biggie.”

Oliver scoffed. “No biggie,” he said, and threw the box back into Connor's bag. He ran his hands over his face.

“Dude, I didn't want to stress you out, it's fine.”

“You should have told me, Connor,” Oliver all but shouted, and Connor took a step back. “You didn't tell me it split.”

Connor shrugged, sticking his hands into his pockets. “It wasn't bad, I didn't notice until later...it might have not...I just...I knew you'd freak, so I took care of it.”

That's when it all kicked off.

Oliver shivers, and there's a voice in his head telling him to go home, but he's stubborn. Plus, he said some pretty mean things. He'd made Connor cry for heaven's sake. He didn't mean to, and as soon as he said those things and walked out, he'd wanted to rush right back into the apartment, wrap his boyfriend in his arms and kiss away all the pain he'd just brought down upon him.

He can't believe he accused Connor of cheating on him. For some reason, for just a split second, it seemed obvious; why else would he be worried about catching the illness? Of course Connor was in the right; he'd done the right thing, and it probably was pretty understanding of him to just straight up manage the situation without freaking out or worrying Oliver.

However, Oliver just obviously wanted a fight. He knows he did. From the minute he'd got his check-up date through, he'd been wanting an excuse to push Connor away. He'd wanted a reason to just go off on one.

“Ollie, I'm sorry, I should have told you, I just--”

“You don't wanna be held down with me, I know.” Oliver had snapped, and he had no idea where it was coming from. “I'm the dirty one, and you get away squeaky clean, free to do as you please.”

Connor had looked as though he'd been punched in the gut. “Ollie, I don't...why are you saying that?”

There had been lots more shouting, back and forth as Connor started to raise his voice, no longer being apologetic but standing up for himself, and that just pissed Oliver off even more. There was the yells about Connor being held back, guilted into being with him, and of course Oliver just had to make a few comments about how it was inevitable that he was going to die of AIDS eventually, so Connor may as well just leave now.

Then it happened, the worst thing that Oliver could imagine being said between them, something that he would never, in his wildest nightmares even dream of being voiced out loud.

“Do you want me to have it?” Connor's voice was broken by that point, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Because I'll take it. I'll take it right now. I'll happily make a blood pact right now, or let you fuck me bareback, right now. I don't care. I don't care about the stupid HIV, I don't give a shit.”

Oliver sits down on a bench not far from his apartment building and rests his head in his hands. He presses the heel of his hand into his eye sockets and fights back the burn. He's so ashamed of himself, so disgusted of the way he treated Connor. He knows he should go home, try and apologise, bed for forgiveness, but he just doesn't know if he can.

Oliver has never loved anyone like he loves Connor. It's like it's in his very bones. Every morning that he wakes up next to the law student he can't help but smile and thank his stars for this beautiful, flawed, but perfect man. Sure, they've had their share of cock-ups in the short span of their relationship for far, but there's no one else on this planet that Oliver could ever want to be with as much as he wants to be with Connor.

He stays seated on the bench, in the pouring rain, for almost an hour before he finally trudges home, soaked to the bone. As he drags his feet up to his front door, there's a familiar smell coming from inside the apartment.

No...he wouldn't...

Oliver pushes open the door to see a small, Filipino lady standing with a very soaked and shaken Connor, fussing and rubbing a towel over his head.

“Nanay?” Oliver all but gasps.

“Anak!” His mother cries out, and she runs to him, pulling him into a hug. “We were so worried!”

“I'm fine, I--” He looks up at Connor, who's eyes are swollen and red. “How did you...?”

Connor sniffs and wipes his nose on his sleeve. “I couldn't find you, so I found her number in your address book.”

Oliver just nods and swallows, before he receives a gently slap against his cheek.

“You silly boy!” His mother says, and she starts pulling his wet clothes off him. “You'll catch your death of cold! And Connor! The poor boy was a complete mess!”

Oliver just nods and he spends the next thirty minutes having his mother fuss over him and Connor, finding them fluffy towels and clean pyjamas, and finishing a huge pot of her home made suit.

“I'm sorry,” Connor says when they're finally alone for a few minutes.

They're in the bedroom, getting changed out of their soaked clothes.

“You're wet.” Oliver says.

“Yeah, I tried to look for you. I didn't...I didn't know what else to do.”

Oliver feels his face break and before he knows what's happening he's on his knees, Connor wrapped around him, holding him tightly.

“I'm so sorry,” Oliver weeps. “I didn't...I didn't mean anything...I didn't...”

“I know,” Connor says, and he rocks him gently. “I know.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, Connor just holding him and pressing kisses to his head.

“Soup's ready!” Oliver's mom calls out.

“One thing, though,” Connor says they finally pull on dry pyjamas. “Why haven't I met your mom before?”

Oliver can't help but laugh. “Because soon you'll be the one getting centrepieces and wedding brochures in your inbox.”

“Will you have babies one day?”

Oliver looks up across the Walsh dinner table. They're at the monthly family dinner that Mrs. Walsh made them promise to attend, and one of Connor's nephews has suddenly taken an interest in the way a gay relationship works. (“They're at that age,” Gemma told him.)

“Uh...I don't...Connor?”

Connor almost chokes on his mashed potatoes and has to compose himself before he turns to his nephew. “No,” he says. “Because we have our hands full enough with you two.” He makes a face and the boys giggle.

“It's a good question, though,” Mrs. Walsh pipes up, and there's a collective groan around the table. “What? I just want to see all my babies married and with their own babies.”

“Mom,” Connor says, “you don't need to be married and have kids to be happy.”

“I know, but...you and Oliver would be great parents! Just imagine it!”

This time it's Oliver that chokes on his food, but it's because he's trying to hold back a laugh.

“Mom,” Gemma says, “they're not even engaged, leave them along.”

“Well, there's no time like the present...”

Oliver giggles and Connor kicks him under the table. He looks up and smiles. “What?”

“Don't encourage her,” Connor says, and shakes his head. He turns back to his mom. “Maybe, and I mean maybe one day I'll let Ollie make an honest man of me.”

Ollie chuckles and picks up his napkin to pick his mouth. “Oh, is that so?”

Connor nods and reaches for his beer bottle. “Maybe. If you get a big enough diamond.”

The table laugh, and Connor shakes his head, smiling. Oliver grins and and wipes his mouth again.

“One day, huh?”

Connor nods.

“And babies?”

Connor bunches his mouth up to one side. “Just the one, I think,” he says after a thought. “A little girl, so we can spoil her rotten.”

“And buy her pony?”

“Oh yeah,” Connor says, leaning back in his chair. “I'll be a big shot lawyer and you can be a stay-at-home dad.”

“Oh can I?”

Connor nods. “And we'll have this ranch out in the country, for the pony to live on.”

“Uh-huh. And a dog.”

“Two dogs,” Connor adds.

They smile at each other before realising the room has gone silent.

“What?” Connor asks.

“Uhm,” Gemma laughs, looking from her mother to her brother. “I think you just got engaged.”

Connor furrows his brow and looks at Oliver, who looks like he's glowing a little. “Did we?”

“I don't know...maybe?”

“Huh.” Connor says, and he takes another swallow of his beer. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Oliver says, and his heart starts racing in his chest and there's suddenly screeching and Mrs. Walsh almost football tackles him as she grabs him into an embrace that would give the Incredible Hulk a run for his money.

“But remember, I want diamonds,” Connor says, smirking as his nephews climb into his lap.