Oz Spellman
July 05, 2022 7:23 PM
I don't do well with compliments
by Oz Spellman
Co-written With: Xavier Lundstrom
Xavier was already zipping about on his skates when Oz entered the room. The fifth year took a seat, picking up the blades that the MARS room had provided. It was the trouble with being both the older one and the broke one - he couldn't take Xavier's cast offs. Thankfully, the room was able to provide.
He was strapping them up when Xav glided to a perfect stop beside him-in that the stop was perfectly executed, not that Xav was perfect.
"Hey man, sorry you didn't get prefect. Their loss," Xav said.
Of all the words out of his mouth, those were not any of the ones Oz would have expected.
"Me?! Prefect?!" He laughed. "Only if they hit their heads."
"I think you'd be good."
"Based on what?" Oz asked.
"You've always had my back," Xav pointed out.
"I'm not sure that helping with messy and illicit potion experiments is exactly what they're looking for in a prefect," Oz pointed out.
"They don't know about those," Xav reminded him. "From their point of view, you befriended a younger student, one who was having a rough time. Sounds prefectly to me."
"Yeah, well maybe they saw through that to the fact that I am human garbage," Oz said. He swung himself to his feet, managing to remain mostly steady after a summer off skates. Xav grabbed him by the arm. He thought it was an unnecessary attempt to steady him, but...
"Don't say that."
"Chill. It was just a joke," Oz said, rolling his eyes. He felt Xavier’s grip tighten on his arm, like he wasn’t going to let him get away that easily.
“Yeah? Okay… Well, I’m trying to tell you that I appreciated last year. Maybe it wasn’t prefect-worthy, but you’ve always looked out for me. To me you’re one of the good guys. And I would like you to be able to look me in the eye when I say that.”
Oz brought his gaze up to Xavier’s, trying to do it quickly, like ripping off a band aid. Like this was some pointless request, but no big deal. He tried to project the same mask of confidence, with mild indifference to stupid feelings, but he was pretty sure Xavier was seeing through it. Xav brought one hand up, gripping the back of Oz’s neck, forcing him to look him dead in the eye.
“You’re my best friend, and you’re awesome,” he told him firmly.
Yeah, I know I am. It was what Oz would have said if it had been anyone else. Anyone who hadn’t already seen through the fake confidence he projected to the world. Or he would have called them gay for expressing feelings but Xavier actually was gay so he couldn’t. That meant he was pretty much stuck with just accepting the stupid compliment.
“Thanks,” he said, swallowing. He could feel Xav’s hand on the back of his neck. He could feel something nasty inside him—the vulnerable part that had just been laid bare, wanting to scratch and push and make this threat go away—but the warmth of Xavier’s hand in the back of his hair was too nice. Xavier was wrong. If he was looking at Oz and seeing something good, he was just mistaken, and likely to be disappointed. But, underneath all the ways it stung for being untrue, he liked hearing soft words, and being told he was special. He was probably supposed to say something complimentary back, except he wasn’t sure how to get any of those words out of his mouth. The gentle pressure of the hand on his neck felt like it was pulling him towards Xavier, and that felt easier than trying to express anything in words. He leaned in and—there was a thump as their safety helmets knocked together. A small noise, but loud enough to break the spell. Oz started backwards, flailing and losing his balance on his rollerblades and falling painfully on his butt.
As if he had needed further proof that feelings were stupid.
13
Oz Spellman
I don't do well with compliments
1514
1
6
Xavier Lundstrom