Chapter Text
Octavius awoke to sunlight in his eyes, a splitting headache, and— most egregiously— an arm wrapped around his notably bare waist.
Many things were wrong with this picture:
- Octavius did not have a window in his bedroom; this was not his bed.
- Octavius did not drink recklessly, all he would typically have in a month’s span would be a glass of wine or two; and yet he was evidently suffering from a hangover.
- Octavius did not have a long term partner— or a short term one, for that matter; certainly not anyone he would share a bed with unclothed.
Squeezing his eyes shut against the light, he begrudgingly turned over to take a look at who he had slept with.
What he was met with was worse than he could have ever imagined, “Jedediah?!”
The exclamation was too loud for his senses at present, eliciting a wince. It must have been loud for Jedediah, too, for he stirred and opened his eyes a smidge, “‘Tavius? What in tarnation are you doin’—?” then his squinted eyes settled upon the offending arm, as well as Octavius’s exposed state, and they flew open wide. Jedediah squawked, retracting his arm as though burned and quickly covering his eyes like a scandalized child.
Mortified as he was, Octavius had the fight in him to roll his eyes, but nothing more. “You… stay like that. I am going to get dressed.”
“My pleasure, buckaroo,” Jedediah replied stiffly.
An awkward silence stretched as he clothed himself. Until, “I am finished. I will turn around to allow you to do the same.”
“How can I be sure?” Jedediah asked warily, pointing his unused hand in Octavius’s vague direction accusatorially.
“Well, clearly it is nothing I have yet to see,” Octavius sassed, muttering.
“You wobblin’ jaw, don’t go givin’ me guff! Just promise!”
The loud tone aggravated his headache and he whined, wiping a hand down his face. “I promise ,” he slowed his words like he was talking to someone much younger, mocking, and turned around.
From behind him, he could hear Jedediah huff, get out of bed, and pick up his clothes from the door. Then, a gasp, “You’ve busted the buttons!”
His eyebrows shot up, flushing to his ears.
“You’ve busted the buttons, ya’ hellion! I’m gonna have to buy a new shirt!” Jedediah groaned, and Octavius could hear the shirt fall to the ground. Thankfully, the other was able to put the rest of his clothes on without event. “Alright, you can turn around.”
He did so, finding Jedediah in a wife beater and jeans that sagged without his usual belt, revealing the hem of his briefs. At his collar bone, there were two hickies— one darker than the other. He looked good, damn he looked good.
Having the sense to be embarrassed, Octavius looked away again and gestured to his own neck, then back to Jedediah.
“…No,” said the other, disbelieving.
“Yes.”
“You’ve got to be kiddin’ me!”
Octavius returned his gaze to his friend, watching him pick up his phone from his nightstand and presumably open his camera, using it as a mirror to examine the marks. The arm holding his phone dropped abruptly and he tipped his head back, eyes closed, with a deep inhale. After a few moments of standing like that, without any sign that he was going to stop soon, Octavius cleared his throat.
“I will be making my departure, now.”
“For the best, compadre.”
Doing just that, he hesitated at the door that led into the rest of the house and glanced over his shoulder, “We are still ‘compadres,’ as you say?” The question came out with less confidence than he would have liked, but it stood nonetheless.
Jedediah stopped sulking for a second to meet Octavius’s look earnestly, but not without some agitation, “Of course we are! This don’t mean nothin’. Friends get drunk and all touchy-feely sometimes, it happens.”
Octavius nodded curtly, making his leave. He hailed a cab home, having carpooled with Ahkmenrah. Vaguely, he wondered what became of him last night. He was attempting to piece together yesterday evening’s events, but was only rewarded with clipped vignettes of the sex that occurred. This event, he had already deduced.
Jedediah’s words had wounded him, he realized, because their tryst— if it could be called as such— meant something to him. What, exactly, he was not certain, but it held value in his heart. If it meant nothing to Jedediah, however, then it would likely be a one-time incident. It was a shame he could not remember a single proper detail. Octavius fumed silently in the backseat; If he had known he would have only one chance, he would have taken it sober. Alas, he suspected the night’s ending was largely dependent upon the copious amounts of alcohol in both their systems.
•••
Jedediah was raving mad. He burst into the museum Ahkmenrah worked in, making a beeline to the Egyptian sect. of the archeology branch.
Shortly after Octavius had left, he had received a call from his mother of all people. Not wanting her to realize he was hungover, he let it go to voicemail. Then, she sent him a couple of text messages, reading:
Good morning Jedediah! I came over yesterday evening to pay you a visit, but your nice friend Ahkmenrah answered the door and explained that you were busy. 😉
I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell your own momma you were in a relationship! Just called to learn more about you and your Octavius. So glad you boys figured things out. Talk soon, love you! ❤️
After sitting in shock for a while, he absently texted back a simple “Talk soon, Ma. ❤️”
Then came the embarrassment and, secondarily, the rage. Come tomorrow, with his hangover subsided, Ahkmenrah was in for a world of hurt.
He found Ahkmenrah standing, hands behind his back, by the frontmost exhibit of the space. The other gave him a friendly wave and a smile, until he seemed to realize the mood Jedediah was in and shrunk back minutely. If not for Ahkmenrah’s status of friendship, he would have pulled the guy away by the ear and given him a proper cussing out.
“You told my mom ?!” he whisper-shouted.
Ahkmenrah at least looked bashful, “I apologize, my friend, I did not want to lie to your mother.”
When Jedediah simply stared, nearly in flames by the look of him, Ahkmenrah continued nervously, “And, well, I was excited! In truth, I had thought you and Octavius had figured things out,” then, quieter, added, “I see now that is not the case.”
“There ain’t nothin’ ta figure out ‘tween me and ‘Tavius!” Ahkmenrah’s words were shockingly similar to his mother’s.
The other raised his eyebrows, an air of amusement coming over him, “Sober thoughts are drunk words, as they say.”
Jedediah was not in the mood.
“Well I’ve heard ya’ flappin’ your gums ‘bout bein’ the ‘boy king’ before— not Tutankhamun— so I think it’s safe to say that isn’t always true.”
That shut Ahkmenrah up, suddenly finding his own shoes fascinating.
“And whaddya mean ‘drunk words,’ what did I say?!”
At that Ahkmenrah looked up again, seeming puzzled, “You had sex with him, did you not? What do the words shared prior matter?”
“Confound it, Ahk! Just tell me!”
“I do not recall specifics, Jedediah, only that romantic sentiments were shared.”
“Yeesh,” Jedediah started, shaking his head, “I sure hope he blacked out as hard as I did.”
•••
It had been two days since the hookup at the party, as it were, and three restless nights for Octavius. Despite his gap in memory, he could not seem to let the matter go. As time went on, he became increasingly aware of not only his physical attraction to Jedediah— that, he had realized and come to terms with even before they had started warming up to one another— but also his… romantic desires.
It was embarrassing, frustrating, petrifying— all such manner of unpleasantness.
Jedediah was brave, honest, free-spirited, and, less often but no less meaningfully, gentle and kind. Above all else, he was Octavius’s friend, perhaps his best, and he knew they would do anything for the other.
A fluttering of sorts plagued his stomach as he thought this over, damning how he felt and how strongly.
He could not say anything, of course, lest he lose the other. Jedediah had made it clear that morning, there was no sober attraction in him for Octavius. His heart sank at the mere thought, and he scowled at himself for such piteous behavior.
Just then, his phone began to buzz with a call: Jedediah.
Of course, he picked up.
“Ockie!” He sounded relieved through the receiver, momentarily elated.
The sound warmed him through, “Yes, Jedediah?”
“Can I come over?”
Perhaps his own twisted notions deceived him, but Jedediah sounded a tad nervous. Octavius wondered what for.
“Uh, certainly, if I may ask—”
“Good, ‘cause I’m pullin’ into your driveway.”