A future-ish, post 1x11 Coliver fic. I really have lots of feelings about Oliver backstory you guys…
They’re out to dinner, at this horrible Thai place they discovered during those first few months, when it happens.
Way too late one night back then, Connor dragged Oliver out of bed with a “You have no food in your house” and off they went. Wandering through the darkened streets of Oliver’s neighborhood, talking about everything and nothing at all, they found it. It was the only place with an open kitchen for blocks and they entered with a careless shrug of “How bad can it be?” In truth? Awful. The service was abysmal, the food almost inedible, and the prices astronomical. But no one said anything when Connor and Oliver couldn’t keep their hands off each other in the back booth and their server didn’t bat an eye when they came back two days later to do it all over again.
And that’s how the Thai place with the worst Thai food either of them had ever had becomes their place.
Oliver hasn’t been back since the break up. Connor ordered takeout once but he couldn’t bring himself to actually eat it. The greasy bag sat unopened on his counter all night while Connor stared at it and thought, for the first time in a long time, of getting blind drunk.
Things have been moving slow the past few weeks. Movie nights in. Casual nights out with Oliver’s friends. Holding hands. Light pecks to a cheek. Nothing like that night in Oliver’s kitchen. They’re both going slow. Learning to trust again.
When Oliver casually brings up going out to their place with the simple text: “I was thinking Thai food tonight,” Connor tries not to get his hopes up. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean he’s been forgiven. It doesn’t mean they are back together.
But then at dinner, Oliver genuinely smiles at one of Connor’s stupid work stories, he keeps brushing Connor’s hand with his and their feet keep casually bumping into each other. The flicker of hope Connor left burning explodes into an inferno. He wants to laugh and cry. He wants to slide over into Oliver’s side of the booth, wrap his arms around Oliver, and never let go. He wants to bury his face in Oliver’s neck and just breathe in.
Connor wants to do so much but doesn’t get a chance to do any of it when a stranger stops by their booth.
“Hey. Long time,” the man says in greeting and Oliver looks up and freezes. He smiles up at the man but it’s his fake smile. The smile he uses when a friend says something moronic or their server gets his order wrong for the third time. It’s all thin lips and no teeth; nothing like his real smile. Oliver’s real smile is gummy and big and he gets little crinkles around his eyes. His real smile makes him look younger and free. Connor made Oliver smile like that not even five minutes ago. Connor wants this guy to leave so he can try and make Oliver smile like that again.