ivy

as he listens to oliver rattle off compliments towards him, brooks feels the skin on his arms warm and burn with embarrassment. suddenly having someone perceive you so deeply after a lifetime of being completely overlooked is foreign and brooks doesn't know how to process all of it just yet. and that in itself is embarrassing, too. he has no way to explain this to oliver. growing up in a place where mirrors were banned, he only saw vague, dusty reflections of himself in glass, and it never looked remarkable. handsome feels like a stretch. "i think, um, all those things about you too." the admission squeezes his throat, but he manages to get it out. not eloquently, but he hopes the honesty translates well enough. "oh — not at all. i've never, uh ...." brooks trails off, his eyes flickering away nervously. "y'know, either." he gives oliver's hand a reassuring squeeze, the physical always easier for brooks than words. prays his inability to communicate doesn't scare oliver off, because nothing has ever felt so alright in his whole life, actually. and though he can't vocalize that, he instead nods gently against oli's forehead and tilts his head up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

notices the way brooks shies away from his words and it makes his heart ache. could he not see it? could he not see the way people stopped and stared - - the way oliver's eyes couldn't leave him? brooks otto was nothing short of stunning. when brooks' confession leaves his lips, oliver can't help the flicker of insecurity that settles in his chest, his heart tightening painfully. had he said too much? did brooks not think he was attractive? he wouldn't blame him, of course. oliver's insecurities ran deep - - unhealed wounds left by by cruel words still pained him - - and he'd never quite liked the way he looked. but he'd hoped, perhaps naively, that maybe brooks might. "you haven't?" there's shock written across oliver's features. "i would've thought… y'know, since you're so attractive and kind." his lips curl into a soft smile as he returns the squeeze of brooks' hand. a shy laugh escapes him, "i guess we're both in the same boat, huh?" all the cues brooks was giving pointed to him liking oliver, but there were still worries that lingered. but all doubt slipped away when brooks' lips met his in a kiss that stopped time. it was as if the stars above had been holding their breath, waiting for this moment ( and oliver had been, too ). hand reaches to cradle brooks' jaw as his lips move against brooks' in a way that he could only describe as perfect and he's certain the blonde can feel how fast his heart is racing. after a few moments, oliver pulls back for air, but rests his nose against brooks' and with a whisper, he confesses, "that was…better than i dreamed it'd be."

" if i just lay here , would you lie with me and just forget the world ? "

"you know i would," luc hums, climbing into bed and collapsing next to bentley, running soft circles on his cheek. "you're my favorite escape." a smirk curls onto his lips, "and my favorite distraction."

when you're making a comparison of things, there are about a thousand and twelve items that cassius could list that he would never want his best friend to change about himself... but there is maybe one or two that he wants his friend to work on, not change per se, but improve upon for the betterment of his own wellbeing. one of those has to be the display he sees before him right now. this display of blatant disregard for almost every ounce of possibility that the chef could have wanted privacy for the two in any situation other than the worst. "ari bartezzi," whispers the name out in something just teetering onto a whine. "c'mon." his free hand finds the other's before tugging him gently by both along as he walks backwards to the couch. drops them with a reluctance before cassius is sitting down on the sectional, legs outstretched on the chaise, while he grabs one of the throw pillows to rest in his lap (makes his upcoming offer feel a little less intimate). "lay down," one hand outstretches towards his best friend as the other pats softly on the pillow. "you're getting into your head too much. there's no band-aid to rip, ar. steady your breathing a little bit, then i'll talk okay? --- plus, your hair is looking a little rough. you could use a little finger combing of the curls, bub." features are gentle, genuine, as the soft smile takes hold of his face.

panic, shut down, rinse, and repeat. that’s how ari has always moved through life. that’s how he learned to navigate things. catastrophizing comes easier to him than breathing does. he’s aware it isn’t the happiest way to live ( always assuming and preparing for the worst ), but he figures it protects him. when his full name falls from cassius’ lips, he’s shaken from the false reality he’d already accepted - - that cassius didn’t want him, that he regrets ever making out with ari, that he’s going to move out because he can’t handle ari as a roommate. but, before he knows it, he’s being pulled from the wreckage he’s buried himself under. cass saves him from his own mind and guides him to calmer waters. the simple touch anchors him, while simultaneously making his heartbeat skip. cassius’ proposal is a welcome one, drawing near to cass being the very thing ari needs. he clambers onto the couch and rests his head on the pillow. “that’s what i do best, cass. i get in my head…it prepares me, murmurs as he gets comfy. wide brown eyes linger on the other’s face and his heart swells. his breathing is still ( by doctor’s standards ) erratic, but he feels his body regulating. all because of cass. a soft laugh escapes him, cheeks pink as he rolls his eyes. “are you insinuating that i look the way that i feel?” the words are teasing and heists so that he’s facing cass’ torso. fingers find themselves curled in the fabric of the other’s shirt - - an anchor.

hadn't expected to run into them ––– not after that last text. the one that elicited more questions than it answered. “ do you have any idea, ” she starts by way of greeting, setting a beer down in front of them, “ how difficult it is to find a new weed guy when you travel like i do? ” she perches herself on the edge of the table, dark gaze pinning them in place. “ what the fuck was that text, huh? ”

fuck. eyes land on amaya and he doesn’t have time to retreat, to hide because she’s seen him too. atlas’ heart pitter patters like he’s a teenager. she’s always elicited that feeling from him and that’s why he had to put an end to this. ( ‘this’ being him selling her weed ). but it was getting in the way of things. atlas couldn’t focus on anything but amaya, and he was a coward when it came to his feelings. fingers wrap around the beer she’d brought over, tapping nervously as her gaze burns into him - - and he wonders if she can read his mind, see all the frantic emotions fighting one another just because she’s near. “you’ll find one, i swear,” voice is soft, eyes flickering down at the table when amaya brings up the text. “listen…i just think it’s dangerous,” atlas shrugs, keeping it vague, “it’s better you go find someone else.”

MANNY JACINTO Nine Perfect Strangers 1.03 “Earth Day”

⠀⠀ ⠀❝ i'm really sorry if it hurt you, but i swear i didn't know she was flirting with me at that party. ❞ he didn't mean to cause friction, but it was a complete misunderstanding. he'd brought some girl back to his bedroom to show her his pokemon collection, and the next thing he knew, his best friend was giving him the cold shoulder. he hesitated, conflict written all over his expression. ❝ i don't bring people back for that. i...i haven't even thought about it. no one makes me-❞ he swallowed hard, quickly turning his gaze to the floor. ❝ no one makes me cum like you do.❞

“everyone could see it, rory. a woman doesn’t put their hands all over a man like that unless she wants you.” hart has his arms crossed over his chest like a petulant child. he mumbles a soft, “and i can’t blame her.” he knows freezing rory out was immature, but he’d been heartbroken. he has no right to be upset : rory is his own human and they had never labeled their trysts. hart’s in love with his best friend - - and it terrifies him. what if rory sees what hart’s father sees? a broken man undeserving of affection. but rory is good, rory is kind, and rory has the prettiest lips. features soften, hope burns like a flame in blue eyes. “wait, you two didn’t…” hart doesn’t even want to say it. then, all of rory’s words wash over him like a wave. hart feels his heart pitter patter helplessly in his chest, head dizzy at the confession. rory hasn’t even thought about it. neither has hart, rory is the only one for him. brow raises, a slow smirk pulling on his lips as he steps closer into rory’s orbit and places a finger under his chin, tipping it up. as he looks into beautiful chocolate hues, hart runs a tongue over his lower lip. “no one what, rory? i didn’t quite hear you.”

KRITHI SHETTY LIK: Love Insurance Kompany

he doesn't know when his eyes had fallen shut, but he'd gotten lost in daydreaming, lost in the feeling of hart's cock on his tongue, and only now, curls out of the way, does he look up at his best friend. the declaration is not something he takes lightly -- all his -- and he can't help the swell of love in his chest. he pulls his mouth from hart's shaft, and lets his hand continues his work, while he kisses at his hip. he's so overwhelmed by all the options of tonight, but he can't let himself get too lost, so he just says, "get on the bed."

when gazes meet, hart nearly stumubles. joey’s eyes ( and lips ) have him in a trance and hart suddenly realizes what he let slip from his mouth. what if it was too much, too soon? what if he scared joey off? when he pops off, hart is certain things were going to end - - until. “i’ll do anything you tell me,” nods eagerly and steps backwards until he falls on the bed, stroking himself as he watches joey. “can you take your shirt off?”

it's a pain he would not wish on his worst enemy : watching them flirt with someone else. knowing they have no interest in him romantically and flaunting it so blatantly in his face. if his clothes were on… cassian knew he was of little use to them. which made this so hard : standing at the bar and watching them flirt with another person several stools over. as they make their way back over, he straightens up, clearing this throat in a poor attempt at pretending he hadn't been watching. “ so? ” he takes a long swig from his beer. needs it. “ fall in love yet? ” piss poor attempt at teasing.

it's a never-ending cycle : flirt, never let anyone see beneath the surface, rinse, and repeat. that's all luc knew. it was his only way to navigate through life - - don't let anyone in. green hues flicker up across the bar and lock with his favorite eyes. scratch that - - don't let anyone in, except for cassian. luc sends a wink cassian's way before he turns back to the woman he's shamelessly been flirting with. hand rests on her waist as they exchange numbers and preens under her touch as a manicured nail trails along his cheek. they part ways and luc gravitates towards cassian. there's a fond roll of his eyes and he shakes his head, "you know me, cass. i'm unfit for love." head tilts to the side, "you look handsome," he muses, brushing fingers against the collar of cassian's shirt, stepping closer. voice drops, gaze growing hazy. "have you fallen in love tonight?"

listen, the blonde isn't an idiot... no one dreams of an entanglement with a man whose work schedule looks like the inverse of everyone else's. especially not someone who has seen the trials and tribulations of his romantic woes like his current roommate has. so despite the way that he was genuinely enthralled about what happened that night, once five minutes turned into thirty, and thirty minutes turned into two hours, cassius figured ari realized that the good time in the sack isn't worth the potential turmoils coming with it. did NOT expect for it to come with a total freeze-out, however. and that has to be what he struggled the most with... what caused the most frost in his ecosystem, despite the way he pulled on his typical suave demeanor (had experience doing so). shakes his head softly at what's told to him, at how ari's managed to find himself up the creek without a paddle in such little time. shifts his arm so that his hand finds the one on his wrist before he's breaking eye contact as he turns, pulling his roommate along as they walk through the party. "c'mon, ar." cassi knows these people, knows their setup, knows that they've got a den room in the basement that they keep the door shut to during parties. opens the door and turns the light on, gesturing for ari to walk down. "it's private, just to talk." and follows behind, though closes the door & hits the lock behind the two. "sorry, i uh, i'm going to answer. just wanted to get you privacy, i know you don't like strangers seeing you upset."

ari’s watched the people cassius brings home, he’s seen them ( all beautiful, all far better than ari ) and that’s what terrifies him the most. ari has panic attacks over not being enough, he’s unstable, and he has an unhealthy attachment style. how could he compare to the people who don’t mind a hookup? who don’t mind cassius charming them into bed? ( and he knows how fucking charming cass can be ). ari needs stability, needs someone who wants him and not just his body. he doesn’t blame cassius nor judge him, not one bit - - ari just can’t hookup. his brain short circuits at the thought. he hates how the nickname makes him melt, and how the tug on his hand makes him feel weak. hesitantly, ari steps into the basement, mortified by his confession and preparing himself for a storm of rejection. chest rise and falls quickly ( too quickly ) as he struggles for air. “cass, if you’re going to turn me down please do so now. rip the bandaid off. i can take it.” though, he’s not sure he can as he stands before cassius, folding in on himself and hanging his head low so the other can’t see the panic written in his eyes.

"it does ?" as inconsequential as it may seem to anyone else, brooks isn't used to eliciting positive emotions in other people — at least, not ones they speak on. he's grown up with the knowledge that he's unlovable, that he's got little to offer the world besides daily labor or serving a greater mission. it's cult ( the word his therapist uses, which he still has trouble with, ) conditioning, and he's working to rid his brain of it but it isn't that simple. the idea that someone could be this happy over the simplicity of him having a reciprocated emotion — it's entirely novel to brooks. "thank God for that," brooks exhales, a nervous smile carrying his expression. "wait, you've never been with ... anyone ?" he finds that difficult to believe, given how handsome and bright oliver is. he's hesitant to accept them, but the words are seeping into his brain and rooting some unfamiliar hope. "i think i like both too. but right now, and actually, i guess for quite a while now, i've also ... just liked you." / @ivygrcws

“yeah…yeah, it does,” brown eyes are twinkling, oliver is smiling ear to ear. he dares to reach out, slipping his fingers between brooks’ and lacing their hands together. “you’re incredible…and so sweet and…handsome, of course…” he trails off before pressing his lips together in thought - - or rather - - in flashbacks : being shoved into lockers. eating lunch alone. passing secret love notes to someone who turned out to be his bully pulling a grand joke. getting set up with a prom date only to discover it was all a prank. oliver had always been the punchline, the joke. so, who would want his affections? and yet, oliver has held onto the hope of it all. that maybe one day he’ll be good enough, that love will find him. gaze shyly breaks from brooks’, “yeah, no one…i don’t blame you if that makes you think less of me.” brooks’ next words shock oliver in the most beautiful way. “you like me?” words are repeated in a whisper and oliver can’t hold back - - leans forward and gives brooks a soft, lingering kiss on the cheek. forehead rests on brooks’ temple and voice is still soft, “i hope that was alright. i hope…i hope i didn’t cross a boundary.”

THE OC (2003-2007) — 1.02, “The Model Home”