Original: "Curses and Canned Peaches" Slash
Summary: “You never called me!” burst Ollie in a wail, baring both fangs and hurt feelings in the middle of the canned goods isle.
Edit: This fic now has a timestamp that occurs after this called Cursed to Know.
~
They ran into each other at the grocery store, the first time in sixteen days and seven hours. They exchanged pleasantries and pretended nothing was wrong for about three minutes, 24 seconds, before Ollie couldn’t take it anymore.
“You never called me!” burst Ollie in a wail, baring both fangs and hurt feelings in the middle of the canned goods isle.
“I did too!” cried Garrith, curling in on himself defensively. “I left a message on your answering machine!”
“A week ago!”
“Well, you never called me back…”
“Oh, sorry,” Ollie snarled sarcastically. “I was a little busy writhing on the floor and screaming in pain.”
“Yes, well, um” stuttered Garrith, face looking tight and squeezed and rather miserable, “I’m really sorry about that. Really, really sorry.” His eyes flickered up to meet Ollie’s, and damn if they didn’t look the perfect image of baby-blue anguish.
Ollie narrowed his eyes at Garrith. One of them was still framed with a purple-green bruise. He rather thought it brought out the colour of his eyes.
Garrith flinched and looked away.
“Care to explain?” prompted Ollie.
“It’s a curse?” Garrith offered sadly. His eyes flicked from Ollie to the canned peaches. “I didn’t think it would… trigger so soon. It wasn’t supposed to. I thought…” his voice trailed off.
“You thought?” prompted Ollie, impatient.
“I thought I had more time,” Garrith admitted, hunching over and still avoiding eye contact. “With you.”
“So… what, you have a curse that wracks your dates with pain, effectively ending your potential love life?”
“Sort of? It runs in my bloodline.”
Ollie whistled low, impressed and momentarily distracted. “That’s a pretty powerful curse.”
“It’s getting weaker. Sometimes it skips a generation.”
“But not yours, apparently,” pointed out Ollie. “Who hates your bloodline enough for a curse this expansive? Not to mention expensive?”
Garrith shrugged. “Some people say is was Great-great-great ex-Aunt Ethel, who married in and then out of the family. She was a powerful witch, and it was a really messy divorce. Other people say it was Mother Matron, convinced her children’s significant others weren’t in love so much as interested in the Old Fortune. She figured if anyone stayed after that… after that, they were a keeper.”
“So this happens to everyone you date,” said Ollie, incredulous.
“Not… really,” hedged Garrith.
Ollie folded his arms and looked expectant.
Garrith sighed. “It’s not supposed to kick in until the relationship gets serious. Like, it’s fine until you get invested in it.”
“So… you must really like me,” Ollie exclaimed, delighted.
“Um,” said Garrith looking alarmed and a bit flushed.
“And here I thought you weren’t interested in me anymore,” Ollie admonished him, then tsked despairingly. It was a skill he’d picked up from his youngest sister’s babysitter.
“Maybe the curse messed up!” protested Garrith. “It getting pretty old!”
“Oh, just admit it! You’re invested in me, and it was only our third date! How precious!” Ollie crowed excitedly. “If you like me so much, why didn’t you just say so?” he asked, curious.
“I figured you would want to be done with me,” mumbled Garrith.
“Well,” Ollie declared judiciously, “you figured wrong. I suppose you’ll just have to make it up to me.” He winked cheekily. “I guess that makes me a keeper. Are you free this evening?”
Garrith stared at him, goggle-eyed.
“You could start with dinner,” Ollie suggested helpfully, since Garrith was still staring at him like he’d lost his head, which he’d only done once, jeez.
“But I-” Garrith began, arms waving in a ridiculous pantomime which seemed to indicate guilt and never want to see me again.
“Caused me to be the subject of unspeakable horrors?” Ollie asked, a bit dryly. “Believe me, I am well aware.”
“Then why-”
“Oh, come now,” interrupted Ollie, preening and prowling forward. “I think we’re both aware that I’m not the sort to let a little torture get in the way of certain… opportunities.”
Garrith gulped and took a step backwards before seeming to decide that whatever punishment Ollie was about to unleash, he should stand his ground and take it like a man. Monster. Man-ster?
Poor Garrith, thought Ollie. He was trying so hard, being so noble. He just wanted to wrap him in a hug and gobble him up.
Ollie paced a tight circle around Garrith’s stiff form, sniffing his hair and letting his nails catch and drag slowly against the fabric of Garrith’s rather ugly blue and green striped shirt.
Finally, Ollie stepped back, nodding in approval.
“7:30, tonight,” he said. “At the corner of Lincoln and Wilhern. I’ll meet you there and we’ll go get a late dinner.”
“Okay,” whispered Garrith, his voice a bit husky.
“It’s a date,” Ollie added, just to make sure there was no misunderstanding.
He leaned in closer to whisper coyly in Garrith’s ear, “Bring me flowers and show me a good time, and maybe I’ll take you home and show you how those unspeakable horrors you exposed me to were pretty much the longest piece of extended foreplay ever. I’m kind of kinky,” he added, pulling back with another wink.
If Garrith’s darkness-blown pupils and burning cheeks were any indication, Ollie figured he’d soon have all the flowers he could ever want. A whole garden’s-worth, and that just as a start.
“7:30,” he reminded Garrith, letting his voice go smoky smooth, before fading back into mist, leaving his soymilk and half a pound of hamburger abandoned on the grocery isle floor.
After all, he had to hurry home. He had a hot date to prepare for.
Edit: This fic now has a timestamp that occurs after this called Cursed to Know.
~
They ran into each other at the grocery store, the first time in sixteen days and seven hours. They exchanged pleasantries and pretended nothing was wrong for about three minutes, 24 seconds, before Ollie couldn’t take it anymore.
“You never called me!” burst Ollie in a wail, baring both fangs and hurt feelings in the middle of the canned goods isle.
“I did too!” cried Garrith, curling in on himself defensively. “I left a message on your answering machine!”
“A week ago!”
“Well, you never called me back…”
“Oh, sorry,” Ollie snarled sarcastically. “I was a little busy writhing on the floor and screaming in pain.”
“Yes, well, um” stuttered Garrith, face looking tight and squeezed and rather miserable, “I’m really sorry about that. Really, really sorry.” His eyes flickered up to meet Ollie’s, and damn if they didn’t look the perfect image of baby-blue anguish.
Ollie narrowed his eyes at Garrith. One of them was still framed with a purple-green bruise. He rather thought it brought out the colour of his eyes.
Garrith flinched and looked away.
“Care to explain?” prompted Ollie.
“It’s a curse?” Garrith offered sadly. His eyes flicked from Ollie to the canned peaches. “I didn’t think it would… trigger so soon. It wasn’t supposed to. I thought…” his voice trailed off.
“You thought?” prompted Ollie, impatient.
“I thought I had more time,” Garrith admitted, hunching over and still avoiding eye contact. “With you.”
“So… what, you have a curse that wracks your dates with pain, effectively ending your potential love life?”
“Sort of? It runs in my bloodline.”
Ollie whistled low, impressed and momentarily distracted. “That’s a pretty powerful curse.”
“It’s getting weaker. Sometimes it skips a generation.”
“But not yours, apparently,” pointed out Ollie. “Who hates your bloodline enough for a curse this expansive? Not to mention expensive?”
Garrith shrugged. “Some people say is was Great-great-great ex-Aunt Ethel, who married in and then out of the family. She was a powerful witch, and it was a really messy divorce. Other people say it was Mother Matron, convinced her children’s significant others weren’t in love so much as interested in the Old Fortune. She figured if anyone stayed after that… after that, they were a keeper.”
“So this happens to everyone you date,” said Ollie, incredulous.
“Not… really,” hedged Garrith.
Ollie folded his arms and looked expectant.
Garrith sighed. “It’s not supposed to kick in until the relationship gets serious. Like, it’s fine until you get invested in it.”
“So… you must really like me,” Ollie exclaimed, delighted.
“Um,” said Garrith looking alarmed and a bit flushed.
“And here I thought you weren’t interested in me anymore,” Ollie admonished him, then tsked despairingly. It was a skill he’d picked up from his youngest sister’s babysitter.
“Maybe the curse messed up!” protested Garrith. “It getting pretty old!”
“Oh, just admit it! You’re invested in me, and it was only our third date! How precious!” Ollie crowed excitedly. “If you like me so much, why didn’t you just say so?” he asked, curious.
“I figured you would want to be done with me,” mumbled Garrith.
“Well,” Ollie declared judiciously, “you figured wrong. I suppose you’ll just have to make it up to me.” He winked cheekily. “I guess that makes me a keeper. Are you free this evening?”
Garrith stared at him, goggle-eyed.
“You could start with dinner,” Ollie suggested helpfully, since Garrith was still staring at him like he’d lost his head, which he’d only done once, jeez.
“But I-” Garrith began, arms waving in a ridiculous pantomime which seemed to indicate guilt and never want to see me again.
“Caused me to be the subject of unspeakable horrors?” Ollie asked, a bit dryly. “Believe me, I am well aware.”
“Then why-”
“Oh, come now,” interrupted Ollie, preening and prowling forward. “I think we’re both aware that I’m not the sort to let a little torture get in the way of certain… opportunities.”
Garrith gulped and took a step backwards before seeming to decide that whatever punishment Ollie was about to unleash, he should stand his ground and take it like a man. Monster. Man-ster?
Poor Garrith, thought Ollie. He was trying so hard, being so noble. He just wanted to wrap him in a hug and gobble him up.
Ollie paced a tight circle around Garrith’s stiff form, sniffing his hair and letting his nails catch and drag slowly against the fabric of Garrith’s rather ugly blue and green striped shirt.
Finally, Ollie stepped back, nodding in approval.
“7:30, tonight,” he said. “At the corner of Lincoln and Wilhern. I’ll meet you there and we’ll go get a late dinner.”
“Okay,” whispered Garrith, his voice a bit husky.
“It’s a date,” Ollie added, just to make sure there was no misunderstanding.
He leaned in closer to whisper coyly in Garrith’s ear, “Bring me flowers and show me a good time, and maybe I’ll take you home and show you how those unspeakable horrors you exposed me to were pretty much the longest piece of extended foreplay ever. I’m kind of kinky,” he added, pulling back with another wink.
If Garrith’s darkness-blown pupils and burning cheeks were any indication, Ollie figured he’d soon have all the flowers he could ever want. A whole garden’s-worth, and that just as a start.
“7:30,” he reminded Garrith, letting his voice go smoky smooth, before fading back into mist, leaving his soymilk and half a pound of hamburger abandoned on the grocery isle floor.
After all, he had to hurry home. He had a hot date to prepare for.