Oz Spellman
November 25, 2022 4:40 PM
So, what's going on?
by Oz Spellman
Co-written With: Xavier Lundstrom
Maybe Oz just should have left. It had been his original plan, because Xavier and Henry deserved to have fun and celebrate, and didn't need dragging down by association - or if he failed to keep his feelings on the inside and accidentally turned their celebration into his own pity party. But deep down, he knew Henry wouldn't care about staying at the party unless Oz was there too, and he wanted Henry to actually mark his own achievement - even if it was bound to be just the first of very many where he soared, and Oz trailed in the dust.
And then he'd noticed the situation with Xav, and had had to do something, even though, as always, it seemed like his judgement had been way off. They had scooped up Henry soon after leaving Jasper though, so Oz didn't have a chance to bring it up until post-party, when he and Xavier were heading back to Pecari.
"So, what was going on with you and Jasper?" he asked.
"No idea," Xavier shrugged.
"You looked super uncomfortable."
"I think that might just be my face these days - it's either resting b**** face or anxiety. It doesn't mean the other person's doing anything," he said, wondering how consciously he had acknowledged that idea prior to being forced to say it out loud.
"Fine. Sorry to cut short your thrilling conversation with your new bestie," Oz grumped.
"Shut up," Xavier punched him lightly on the arm. "I'm glad you've got my back."
"Why?" Oz muttered, meaning it as a mostly rhetorical question.
"It shows you care," Xav answered.
Oz squirmed, caught between the automatic denial he wanted to give at being accused of having feelings, and discomfort at the idea the Xav didn't know that.
"No kidding," he rolled his eyes. "You're my best friend. And then... the other stuff, that wasn't a clue?"
“Technically, you don’t have to like someone to make out with them.”
“Okay, but I do. What I don’t get is why you like me,” Oz sighed, knowing full well that if he said that, Xavier would provide a list of reasons. Between the challenges and feeling like he’d messed up yet again by jumping in with Jasper, he needed to hear it.
“Uhh, let’s see,” Xav said, rolling his own eyes because he had told Oz these things plenty of times—but he was still more than willing to do it again. “You’re fun, you’re loyal, you always look out for me. And you’re cute, and a good kisser,” he added more quietly, pleased to see it got more of a smirk than a scowl.
“I’m a confirmed loser,” Oz sighed. When Xavier said those things, he almost recognized himself in them, but the voice of self-doubt was louder.
“Can’t be,” Xavier shook his head and drew himself up as tall and commanding as possible. “I wouldn’t date a loser,” he said, like that settled it. He could hear the obvious comeback. Since when are we ‘dating?’’ But he stood, arms crossed, looking absolutely determined.
Oz tried not to look as confused as he felt. Confusion wasn’t the right reaction to a compliment. Were they dating?? He wasn’t really sure what the difference was between making out with someone you liked and dating them. As far as he could tell, dating meant two things—one, you cared about the person, and two you went on dates. He obviously cared about Xavier. The only difference between friend-caring and caring as a boyfriend seemed to be making out, and they were doing that. They weren’t going on any dates, but that was because it would involve Oz outing himself, and Xavier had been clear that it was cool if he didn’t want to do that. Or was it a date every time they hung out, given that they usually made out if no one else was around? It was all weird and complicated, but Xavier was the one person he had in here besides Henry. He liked what they were doing, even if it was confusing, and he had no wish to jeopardise that.
“Okay, you win,” he shrugged, grinning at Xavier, and wondering if this meant they were boyfriends now and why all of this was so much less clear than he thought it ought to be.
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Oz Spellman
So, what's going on?
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Xavier Lundstrom