I'm what's left of when we
Swam under the moon
Now the rest of my days are just
Waiting for when
You come down and tell me
I was meant for you, baby
Being with you
Makes the flame burn good

i don't smoke • mitski

PLUNGE
Volume 0.1    Repellent

Mar 29th, 2020

Oscar tried to be there for Sylas. He really did. Through hospital visits and surgeries, through physical therapy and days spent rotting at home. Oscar tried to be there every step of the way.

Oscar's racing greatly hindered his ability to show his love for Sylas at every given opportunity, but if he wasn't there in person, he was there on the phone. He was always there on the phone, so many hours spent on call he was sure his bill was through the roof at that point.

Yet, try as he might, there was some invisible barrier between him and Sylas, and he didn't know when the bricks had begun being laid or how to stop the construction process now that the wall was already halfway built.

He felt like sometimes they would be together and it was suffocating. His jokes fell flat and the smiles that Sylas gave him felt so fake it was painful. He then opted to sit in silence with the diver, who scrolled on his phone endlessly, but that just meant that they barely spoke, and that just meant the distance & tension became insurmountable.

He tried his very hardest not to blame anyone, but he couldn't help the little cloud of resentment that ebbed away at his resolve, slowly changing his view of Sylas. He suppressed those feelings in favor of reminding himself why he was here. His best friend was going through the hardest time in his life, and any off behavior could probably be attributed to the fact that the boy was unable to do the thing he loved and was now going to have to work extremely hard to get back to a place where he could. Oscar couldn't imagine being unable to race, but he could imagine that the dreadful feeling he got just thinking about it was the same one Sylas was having to wake up to every day.

This is Sylas' reality, he reminded himself, day in and day out, on silent phone calls, in silent hospital rooms, staring at Sylas' back as he lay facing away from the Aussie.

Sylas felt the guilt in his stomach spread like something carcinogenic with every turn of his head, with every non answer he gave to the Aussie. It wasn't Oscar's fault, no, of course it wasn't. But it was very much unavoidable, when with Oscar, for Sylas to try and push him away. If he hadn't been feeling certain things deep in his bones before, then the gentle scoops of fed pudding and the fluffing of his pillows from the ever-caring Oscar were only feeding the butterflies in Sylas' stomach.

He couldn't do it. Not when he knew Oscar didn't like him like that. He knew Oscar wasn't homophobic, which was a start, but he also knew Oscar had never in his life talked about anyone other than girls with regards to romantic and/or sexual endeavors, which was an end. And Sylas was never one to face anything head-on, tell anyone about feelings like that, so he ended up just kind of awkwardly distancing himself from Oscar (which was awful difficult considering the driver insisted on being there every waking moment that he could be). Sylas' smiles grew tight and his replies grew dry, and he knew that Oscar noticed.

He also knew that Oscar did not know that it was totally and completely on Sylas, this growing distance. He knew that Oscar had chalked up everything in his mind to just being "a part of the healing process", and that the Aussie was never going to bring it up to anyone, much less Sylas himself, during or after the fact.

It was this realization that ultimately made the decision for him.

Oscar could remember that day like a minute-by-minute replay. He remembered it so well because from the very beginning, it had been so different. He had flown into London late, nearly midnight, and his team insisted he drop off his stuff at his flat before he went to the rehab center, despite his protests.

Eventually, he arrived at a familiar front desk, the older woman not even asking for his name before she directed him to Sylas' room. It had changed from last time Oscar was there, he had been moved to a quieter part of the center, to a smaller room at the back. Oscar chatted softly with the woman as she led him down a few halls, and she smiled while telling him about Sylas' progress, and how much the people there loved him. Oscar had smiled back and knocked on the door to Sylas' room as she finished speaking, smile now turning sad.

"You know, everyone here is just going to-"

She was cut off by the sudden opening of said door, a bright-eyed Sylas popping his head out, body soon following.

"Hey, Osc. Hi, Nancy, alright?" Sylas greeted, swinging an arm around Oscar's shoulder without a second thought.

Nancy's answer was tuned out by the static in Oscar's brain, eyes burning holes into the side of Sylas' head. Where had this come from? Sylas gave him a side-long glance, smile widening, and Oscar tuned back into the conversation with heat prickling beneath his skin.

"Anyways, I'll let you lads get to catching up. Do be safe, yes?" She said the last part with a wink and a raised brow, making the heat in Oscar's cheeks boil over, face now burning what he was sure was a bright red.

Sylas laughed easily and bid her adieu, pulling Oscar into the room and closing the door behind them once he had unhooked his arm from the Aussie's shoulder.

Looking around, Oscar immediately felt his stomach begin to turn, just slightly. "Where's all your stuff?"

Sylas' smile faltered only very minutely, but Oscar was always a diligent observer. "They just moved me in here. Haven't gotten all of it unpacked yet."

Oscar nodded, trying to suppress the thought that, if anything, the room looked like it was being packed up. Sylas flopped onto the queen sized bed in the corner of the room, which took up most of the space, and signaled for Oscar to sit himself on the foot of the navy-covered mattress.

"So," Sylas started once Oscar sat down, elongating the vowel. "How are you? What's up in Piastri's world? Oh, and happy early."

Oscar gazed at Sylas' smile for a moment before clearing his throat and responding. "Cheers. And, uh, nothing much. Season starts in July. I'm with Prema."

"And that's Formula... 3?" Sylas guessed, smiling when Oscar nodded. "Who are you racing with?"

"Vesti, who's Danish, and Sargeant. Logan. He's American, actually," Oscar replied.

"Oh, yeah, I met Logan once. You've known him for a bit, yes?" Sylas sat up then turned completely around, so his head was in Oscar's lap and his legs were up by his pillow.

Oscar breathed out sharply through his nose, trying desperately to rationalize the speed at which his heart was beating. He didn't know where the sudden shift had come from, couldn't place when the behavior on Sylas' end had switched back from misplaced spite to the normal affection they showed each other. He wasn't going to complain, though he maybe should have. "Yeah. Few years now. He's a good guy," His left fingers found their way to Sylas' hair without Oscar asking them to, right hand resting directly next to the Brit's body on the bedsheets. "How about you, how's recovery?"

Sylas hesitated to answer for a long moment. When he did, his voice was much lower. "Good. My shoulder's still a bit off, but getting better everyday. Nearly full mobility."

Oscar hummed, carding his hand through Sylas' brown hair. "That's good."

They then sat in silence for a long while, Oscar fighting off sleep vehemently. He was truly willing to die of exhaustion if it meant a few more moments with Sylas, moments that weren't filled with doubt and distance for the first time in a long while. Eventually, after nearly a half hour of quiet, well into the early morning, Oscar felt Sylas shift and looked down to see brown eyes staring back up at him, eyebrows knitted together.

"I'm sorry if I've been an arse recently. It's been really difficult, you know, getting through recovery. And there's- yeah, sorry. It's not an excuse. You're my best friend, Osc."

Oscar offered a small smile, which was immediately returned. "And you'll always be mine. It's alright, really. I understand what you've gone through is more than most face in a lifetime. I would never blame you for any of it."

It was a white lie, sure, but Oscar could tell that Sylas also wasn't telling him the whole truth, so some sick part of him felt justified in not sharing his real feelings. Sylas nodded, but looked away, now avoiding Oscar's eyes altogether.

"I, uh...," Oscar waited patiently as Sylas started a thought, fingers still brushing through his soft head of hair. Sylas closed his mouth, brow furrowed, then spoke again, doubt still evident on his face. "I love you, Oscar, you know that? I'm beyond grateful for you and your support."

Oscar nodded, forcing out a smile even though he felt like that wasn't the thought Sylas had originally begun stating. "I know, Sy. I love you too. And of course I'm here for you. I always will be."

Sylas smiled tightly in response, the energy shifting uncomfortably thereafter, air going stale. Oscar was acutely aware that this wasn't normal for a pair of guy best friends, the conversation or the weird feelings lingering in the air, but he pushed away his woes as much as he could, trying to focus on the boy in his lap. They stayed in that position for only a few more minutes. Sylas then checked the time, widened his eyes, and ushered Oscar out, insisting that the Aussie needed to go to bed. I usually stay here, was on the tip of Oscar's tongue, but he pushed it down in favor of weakly laughing at Sylas' urgency.

Sylas led him down the hall, where he then decided to split from the older boy.

"Alright, bye, Osc, love you. Goodnight," Sylas whispered.

"Bye bye," Oscar whispered back, pulling in the slightly shorter boy for a hug.

Sylas fell into his arms with what seemed like a sense of relief. He sighed into Oscar's neck and clung tightly to the black hoodie hung on Oscar's torso, fingertips digging into the Aussie's shoulder. They stayed for a moment too long to be normal, swaying in each other's arms ever so slightly. When they finally separated and said their actual farewells, Oscar had to try incredibly hard to ignore the glisten of Sylas' eyes, or how much this felt like a more permanent goodbye. He knew, rationally, that it wasn't. In fact, he was probably coming back in the next few days, wanting to see Sylas at least once more before he left for Italy again. But something deep in his stomach tugged at him, a bad feeling spreading through his limbs, even later as he lay in bed.

It took a very long time for Oscar to fall asleep that night.

🏊‍♂️