2. Well, that’s [Y]arn Cute! #2
Papa’s boy had always loved to eat. His stomach grumbled, reminding him of his long-term relationship with food, but Oscar didn’t really have time to make anything complicated, so his favorite spicy beef cup noodles would have to do.
The quest was long, but interesting, and far more intriguing than the one with the churchyard monster.
Oscar had to trespass on several private lands, distinguishing good folk who could help him by equipping him for the next part of his quest from the co-conspirators who had started stealing horses, cattle, and other important things from the villagers.
Several fights, dramatic screams, and rescued animals later, Oscar found himself standing in front of the next boss: a vampire who had compelled all the people Oscar’s character had defeated so far to steal and bring him animals so he might feed without raising too much suspicion.
Swords and knives did little to the creature, and Oscar had to dodge his vampire teeth and swarm of bats more times than he liked.
In the end, a vial of holy water that had accompanied the chalice into his inventory was enough to stop the vampire in his tracks while Oscar equipped himself with a silver-tipped arrow and a broken piece of wood he had lying in his inventory from one of his scavenger hunts in an abandoned farmhouse.
The vampire succumbed to the wooden stake, screaming as he turned to ash. Now all Oscar had to do was find the villager’s horse in the stables and ride him back up to town. He was just about to do that when his phone pinged.
It sent his heart soaring. Oscar paused, unwilling to chance any other opponent catching him unawares after all that effort, and picked up his phone.
He hadn’t realized how much time had passed, and a part of him expected to find a bunch of messages waiting that he hadn’t heard coming in, immersed as he’d been in the quest.
Nothing. His screen was blank, save for a reminder to hydrate, an ad from one of those shopping apps he’d installed once because they’d had a trans pin he liked in an ad, and one single message.
Not Aaron.
Christina: Hi, Oscar. I just wanted to check in before our appointment tomorrow. It’s our first one in-person again. Good to make it?
Oscar: Yep!
Christina: See you at 10.
Oscar switched to his conversation with CowBoy0705.
Aaron had hearted his emoji, but there was nothing after that.
Something twisted in Oscar’s stomach. It tasted like his age-old conviction, the cruel whispers that he was an invader, trampling over daisies with his clumsy feet in boots that were too large for them, pretending to be something he was not.
You are, you are, Oscar repeated to himself.
And he was. Look at him now; check his license and his new birth certificate, look at all the scars he’d earned. He’d built his own identity, plugged and played with his body until it looked like Oscar felt inside.
What Oscar wasn’t sure he was, was wanted. Because apart from that first message request, he had initiated every single conversation, sent every last message left on read. And Aaron hadn’t texted him in as many hours as Oscar had been on his quest.
Deciding to distract himself, he opened up his laptop and started typing out his feedback for the last two stages. He guessed the people up in game development would be satisfied with the five pages he managed to type up.
His laptop pinged just as the email whooshed out of his computer, but Oscar knew immediately it wasn’t Aaron. The Space Invaders sound effect was what he’d assigned to Lucas. In the end, it still made him smile.
Luke SkyRacer: Spike! *runs sexily* Where the hell have you been, loco?
Spikey: Hello, Biceps. *Awkward shuffling* Working. [Team Edward Forever]
Luke SkyRacer: Boo :(
The Space Invaders soundtrack began to play as Lucas’s call came in. Oscar answered, leaning back against the bench. He reached for a fistful of gummy bears and popped them into his mouth.
“Does Philip know you’re calling another man ‘boo’?” he asked, mouth twisting into a smirk.
“I think Philip would be more concerned with your poor nutrition. You look beaten up. What’s going on?” Lucas swiveled around in his chair, headset cushioning his closely buzzed head.
“I beat that fucking boss,” Oscar said, “and another after.”
“You should be celebrating, then.” Lucas quirked an eyebrow, reaching for his cup of whatever green sludge he’d put into his afternoon smoothie. Being in a different timezone meant that while the sky outside Oscar’s window was pitch black, there was sunlight streaming into Lucas’s office.
“Yeah, well…remember that guy from the clinic I told you about? Top surgery guy?”
Oscar twisted his mouth. He’d never been too good at talking about the personal stuff, but if he was going to do it with anyone, it would have to be Lucas.
Maybe it was sad that his best friend lived so far away, that they’d never even met in person, that there was a twelve-year gap between them, but Oscar didn’t feel sad about it.
He liked Lucas, liked how much advice he had to give, liked that he wasn’t always slung over banisters at house parties the way most other guys Oscar’s age were.
“Yes?” Lucas craned his neck, raising his eyebrows, inviting him to go on.
“Well, he found me, and he texted.” Oscar tilted his head back. “And now I think I’ve scared him off.”
“Why is our mind racing?” Lucas sipped his disgusting drink. Oscar’s stomach turned from seeing it alone. “Hmm?”
“Ugh.” Oscar rubbed his face. “How long you got?”
Lucas glanced at the clock. It would be half past four in the afternoon there, which meant he’d just logged off from his remote job as a financial advisor. His husband would be home soon, and they’d start preparing dinner.
When Lucas turned to look at him, there was one of those soft encouraging smiles on his light brown face, eyes shining like ambers as they caught the sun.
“Long as you need, chico,” he said, picking up his phone. “I’ll text Phil to get a pizza.”
“Won’t that ruin your body temple?” Oscar asked, raising his eyebrows.
Lucas reached for his cup again, slurping up the remainder of his smoothie.
“I more than make up for it with this ungodly sacrifice,” he said, flashing Oscar a wink through the screen.
He set down his phone and his empty cup and linked his hands together, leaning back in his chair. “Now tell me. I’m all ears.”