Little Hoodie Thief

7

William's eyes are down after Alyssa leaves. For some unknown reason, he can't lift them to face Oliver. He's afraid that Oliver will see the lie in his eyes, that he will see how red his face is. But Oliver doesn't give him the chance to even come up with an explanation as to why Alyssa thinks they're in a relationship.

    "You told her it was a date?" Oliver chuckles.

    William frowns. "No." He looks up. "She made that conclusion herself because she likes to think she's always right, which is usually not what happens by the way." He chuckles slightly at his lame attempt at a joke. "I was supposed to hang out with her but I'm here with you, that's why." He's not sure why he added the last part, but it's out before he knows it.

    "Ah, so she was right. You did choose me over her," Oliver says, a smile playing on his lips. He raises a brow at William, as if daring him to deny it.

    William can see right through him. He knows the kind of guy Oliver is. The kind that always wants the upper hand, the win in every situation. He may have won the battle, but William is not going to let him win the war.

    "You really think so highly of yourself, don't you?" William hates the way that comes out but Oliver latches onto his bitter tone so fast that he can't take it back.

    "I don't see how that's implied here, William. I was simply stating the obvious," Oliver says with a frown. William realizes that he's struck a nerve. He didn't mean to, but his temper rules over him in a way that he can't back down now.

    "I didn't even want to be here in the first place. I'd much rather be hanging out with her," he continues.

    "No one is forcing you to be here. You could have said no."

    "I tried!"

    "And I didn't force you to walk to my dorm, nor did I force you to walk with me to this restaurant, William," Oliver straightens out. "I also did not force you to order food on my behalf. You did all of that on your own,' he pauses. And then lowly, he whispers "because you wanted to."

    William doesn't know what to say. Oliver holds his gaze and he can't look away.

    "Let me guess... you're the kind of guy that likes to pin the blame on everyone else but yourself. The kind of person that likes to say, not me. I didn't want this. You did. The kind of guy that likes to say he doesn't want to date or be in a relationship even though deep down, you have this fantasy of the man or woman you want to be with. You dream of having someone to call your own, of having someone to wake up to every single morning. You dream of having someone to cuddle with because you don't like being cold." Oliver pauses. William gulps. Where is this coming from?

    "You want someone to want you in ways you've never even imagined. You want to feel needed at all times, and so you like to push people's buttons so they always come back to you to determine why you're angry with them. But it's not because you're really angry, no... you actually enjoy the thrill of arguments. You get so high on the rush of being yelled at, being manhandled."

    William stares at him. Where is all this coming from? And where is it going?

    "Tell me I'm wrong."

    "You-you're wrong." Except he's not. Not entirely, and William knows it. Some of what Oliver has said is true. William does get off on riling people up. But it doesn't mean that was his goal when he first met Oliver. Maybe in the back of his mind, there was an unknown need, an unknown urge to continue arguing with the man but Oliver started it.

    William looks at him, unsure of what to say. It looks like Oliver has won, again. But no, William has to figure something out.

    "And you? You think you know me? You think you can just spout off all these statements like they're actual facts and that means you know me? You don't," he says. William licks his lips as he holds Oliver's gaze. He breathes out.

    "You say I like to push blame on others because it kills me to say I was wrong, but here I am trying to actually say sorry by buying you dinner. Maybe you asked for this, and I didn't want to be here in the first place, but I am here because I wanted to make things right with you," he states with a calmness he wasn't even aware he possessed. "You don't get to paint me as a bad person because of whatever fantasy you've made about the kind of person I am."

    Oliver looks at him for a moment. William heaves. He tries to catch his breath. Why does Oliver rile him up like this? It's not normal. But he can't allow Oliver to make up wrong facts about the kind of person he is.

    And then he smiles. Oliver fucking smiles at him which leaves William seven more confused.

    "So you do want to be here? And not just because I said so?"

    "What?"

    Oliver smirks at him. William's frown deepens. "You remind me of an old friend."

    "How so?"

    Oliver shrugs. "Not sure, but there's just something about you. Your... softness," he whispers. "Your meek appearance yet strong desire, I guess. Your need to always be right." They're so similar, it's almost embarrassing, Oliver thinks to himself.

    "I don't think I always have to be right," William states.

    "Maybe not, but still. You like to have the last word like I do, which is quite annoying but I must admit, fun too. But that's not what I'm trying to say."

    "What are you saying then?"

    Oliver doesn't say anything for a while, he only stares at William. William stares back, his eyes never leaving Oliver's green ones. He can see the wheels turning behind them as Oliver thinks of what to say next. William is being kept in suspense, and he hates it.

    "Do you feel the need to grow old with someone?"

    "Huh?"

    "Do you want to meet your soulmate, fall in love with them and then grow old together? Is that something you dream of?" Oliver questions again. "Because you give off that vibe if I'm being honest. I'm just trying to figure out the kind of person you are."

    William shrugs. He doesn't know what falling in love has got to do with his personality but he doesn't say anything to that. "I don't know if I'll call it that but occasionally, I guess I do think of what it'd be like to get married and stuff."

    "I see... but you also strike me as someone who just wants to fuck, hard."

    "Dude!" William exclaims. His eyes are nearly bulging out of their sockets. "What the fuck?" He shouts in a whisper.

    "It's true though, right?" Oliver smirks.

    "What is wrong with you? We're at dinner, you can't say stuff like that!"

    Oliver shrugs again. He looks like he wants to say something but doesn't know how. William can see that, and for some reason, he knows exactly where Oliver is going with his questions. He now realizes why Oliver was trying to rile him up.

    It seems as though Oliver has had the same feelings and thoughts as William. And for some reason, he wants to get them out in the open, however bad of an idea it is.

    The truth is, however, that William wants him to say it. William wants Oliver to mention how he hasn't been able to stop thinking about the annoying boy who stole his hoodie. William wants Oliver to mention how badly William's retaliation turned him on just as much as Oliver's accusation did to him.

    He wants him to say just how fucking glad he'd be if he could lay William right here on this table and have his way with him.

    And William wants exactly that too.

    But Oliver doesn't say anything after that, he just smiles at William as the waiter brings their food. William wonders if he's right about Oliver or if Oliver is just an asshole trying to rile him up for no fucking reason.