Work Text:
Oliver heaved a deep sigh as he slumped in his apartment building's elevator. He was exhausted, plain and simple. He felt guilty for lying to Connor about having to work late, and he was angry at himself for letting himself get swept up in Michaela's schemes. He did truly care about Wes, but he wasn't sure if he was willing to risk his livelihood for him. Truth be told, going to get drinks with Simon had actually been kind of nice. Simon wouldn't randomly bring up murders or ask him to hack into stuff. He glanced at the clock. 11:23. He groaned. Hopefully Connor was still awake.
Oliver stepped off at the third floor. He gingerly opened the door to their apartment. Connor was nowhere to be found in the living room or the kitchen. He saw some plates and an empty wine bottle on the table. What the hell. Did Connor finish the whole bottle by himself? Oliver wondered. He saw a lump in their bed and was relieved that Connor hadn't gone anywhere after getting drunk. He put away all the dishes as quietly as he could and slipped into bed, careful not to disturb Connor.
The next morning Connor woke up to the smell of bacon coming from the kitchen. He was still upset with Oliver, even though he knew he didn't have a right to be. He slowly made his way to the kitchen after painstakingly brushing his teeth and washing his face.
"Hey, good morning," Oliver greeted him. "Want some breakfast?"
"Morning," Connor mumbled. He reached for a piece of bacon. "Aren't you going to be late? It's already 8:30. Michaela will kill you."
"I'm going in later. It's fine," Oliver said cheerfully.
Connor raised his eyebrows with curiosity, but didn't say anything. The two slowly picked away at their breakfast, tension hanging in the air.
"So, um," Oliver broke first. "I'm sorry for missing dinner last night. There was just a lot going on at work." He was wringing his hands.
"It's fine," Connor said, not even looking at Oliver.
"And, I'm sorry for saying what I said in front of everyone yesterday morning. That wasn't cool. It won't happen again," Oliver said sincerely.
At that, Connor stopped eating. He cleared his throat. "Thanks Ollie."
"I want to be here for you. I really do. But sometimes I feel like," he trailed off.
"Like what?" Connor asked quietly.
"Like I don't even know you!" Oliver exclaimed. He sighed, visibly composing himself. "You didn't tell me about your dad."
Connor winced at the mention of him.
"And I wonder if you ever would have if he hadn't shown up here." Oliver continued. "I don't want to push you to talk, but it really sucks when your own boyfriend won't tell you important details about his life and you have to hear them from his dad."
"What are you talking about?"
"How you came out. Your dad told me."
"I hate that story," Connor said in a quiet voice. "I hate it so much. And I hate him too."
"I get that, but,"
"But nothing! I said I don't want to have anything to do with him so why can't you let it go? You even went behind my back to meet him! Honestly, Oliver, for someone who talks so much about open communication, you don't seem to practice it very much." Connor was standing now, food long forgotten.
Oliver stared at him for a minute before talking. "You're right, I shouldn't have gone behind your back. I should've talked to you first. I'm going to be better, I swear."
Connor nodded, looking at the floor.
"So I should tell you then that Michaela asked for my help to hack into Tegan's accounts yesterday. And Simon caught us, so I went and got a few drinks with him to cover for us." He added in a rush.
Connor laughed without any humor. "You went to get drinks with a dude who has a giant crush on you?" He knew he was being a hypocrite, but he couldn't help it. He hated that damn guy. And he obviously was into Oliver.
"Only because he caught us! I was trying to distract him. And we're just friends anyway. He's nice," Oliver insisted.
"Whatever," Connor said, grabbing his plate and heading for the sink.
"This is our problem." Oliver said. "Whenever we do talk, we end up fighting and hurting each other."
Connor slowly put his plate in the sink and turned around. "You're right." He looked exhausted. "Can we not fight anymore, Ollie?" he pleaded. "I'm just so tired."
Oliver sighed, he knew he couldn't say no to Connor. "Okay, but I said everything that I wanted to say to you. Do you have anything to say to me?"
Connor gulped. It felt like the Humpr app was burning a hole in his pocket.
"No."