[attr="class","blboxbl"]

Onyx never uses the front door, preferring to break in whenever he pleased. And that irritated one fat fucking Eevee. As he calls for her trainer, spots of orange flash in the darkness that is the bedroom. Clothes throw on on the floor, bed made a mess. But empty. She huffed, eyeing the open balcony door and then peeking out form behind furniture to glare at Onyx. She lets out a sharp bark, immediately nosing through grocery bags intent to see what treats he brought her. The toll for entering her domain was high. [break][break]

Not a soul stirs in the apartment for another twenty minutes before the door lock clicks, and the door knob begins to turn. In walked Andres, tired and slouching. He drags in a gym bag and a bag of frozen pizzas. It's an off day for him. [break][break]

The bags are unceremoniously dumped at the front door as he shuts and locks behind him, groaning and leaning on the wall to take off his shoes. "Me siento mierda, Chuchi." he complained only for the Eevee to bark. Sitting on the very top of the couch, tail wagging she cuts off the rest of his complaints and gives him a moment to look around. [break][break]

"Onyx?" he asked, visibly perking up at the hope of seeing the guy. There's the bags on the floor so- who else could it be. Nobody could win over Chuchi after all. Onyx had compromised privilege's, anybody else got mauled. [break][break]

And he makes up his mind then and there, if the man isn't home he'd invite him over. Now that it's in his head...he wanted to see him.

[break][break]

+ onyx straub || affections confections (ee) [break][break]

[attr="class","mitchel"]there was no response from andres and no movement in the bedroom. onyx shrugged and went to unbag the groceries.

"beat it, you fat lard. it's not for you." he nudged a bag with his foot to shift it away from chuchi and stacked cans of energy drinks tumbled over, one rolling beneath the couch. cursing, onyx dropped to his knees to retrieve it--

--and froze, fingers instead closing over something soft and cottony. pulling the item out revealed it to be a lacy pair of underwear. he frowned at it for a while in contemplation.

he shouldn't snoop. it could've been old. long forgotten. but then he remembered how andres sounded sitting in his lap and saying i love you and his brain shut off completely.

a check under and within various other furnitures revealed an astounding array of condom wrappers, bottles of various lubricants, a half eaten bar of something called aphrodesiac chocolate that andres should be happy chuchi didn't get, and a veritable pile of ladies undergarments. the boxer briefs decidedly too small to be andres' (they also have someone else's name sharpie'd on the tag) stuffed under the bed crown the pile, helpfully stacked in the middle of the bedroom floor.

onyx freezes when he hears the door open, brain a muddle of emotions he doesn't have the facilities or the time to process. he comes to the threshold of the bedroom door and leans against the framing.

"you should start a lost and found page for all of this."

[attr="class","mitcheltag"]andres buenaventura mission: affection's confections

[attr="class","blboxbl"]

“Huh?” Andres smiled, always happy to see Onyx but the comment goes over his head. Chuchi settled into her perch, resting her head on her paws to see what mess would unfold this time. It was always a coin flip between the too. One minute they were tangled together, the next avoiding each other. [break][break]

He glances behind him then at the floor. The apartment is a veritable mess. A type of unclean that had started back in December, relieved slightly at the new year and then falling again into disarray. Perhaps it had reflected a little too well his moods but also…he just had forgotten to clean up. Or more so, he found it too difficult when his mind was weighed down by other things. [break][break]

“I’ll get around to it on the weekend…most of the stuff on the floor is probably trash anyway.”


[break][break]

+ onyx straub || affections confections (ee) [break][break]

[attr="class","mitchel"]“Trash. Right.”

He pushes himself up from the doorframe, something simmering in him, an anger that is so foreign-- and yet so familiar, he has the name of it on the back of his tongue-- that he doesn’t quite know how to process it. Its color kin to the possessiveness that made him track Andres down in a dirty club bathroom all those many months ago.

But. Getting worked up about a random assortment of bullshit he found on the floor? That would be… utterly ridiculous, right?

“...recent trash, though?”

…as ridiculous as regularly having sex with your childhood bully who put you in the hospital repeatedly?

He runs a hand through his hair, tugging. Fuck, he hates it when he out-logics himself.

“I was going to make cookies,” he says, returning to the grocery bags he’d left abandoned on the floor and forcing a very fake measure of cheer into his voice, “or-- or cake, or some shit. Want anything?”

[attr="class","mitcheltag"]andres buenaventura mission: affection's confections

[attr="class","blboxbl"]

"I mean- it's not like I'm gonna call anyone back to come pick it up." Andres said with a shrug. He cleaned up to keep his pokemon from choking on garbage, not much else. OR well, to keep himself busy and from thinking about Onyx. Which sometimes, unfortunately, too up 70% to 90% of his brain power on any given day. [break][break]

"I guess. I don't track it." he said with a shrug, not really getting at what Onyx was getting at. A lot of things got left behind under his furniture, He just hadn't checked exactly what. Same with the corners of his closet or a cabinet under his sink in the bathroom. He had a habit of just shoving shit into a place and forgetting about it. Lately anyway, he's been pretty spacey. [break][break]

"I like cookies." he added, focusing on something easy. "I can help if you need...Or just lick the spoon." Chuchi barked and he dismissed her, sending her scurrying into his bedroom and huffing on her bed.


[break][break]

+ onyx straub || affections confections (ee) [break][break]

[attr="class","mitchel"]“Right,” he says, and though he’s grinding his teeth against a strange, bitter anger that rears inside of him, he doesn’t have a name for it. No proper descriptors for the way it makes his stomach shift or his shoulders set at a stubborn angle.

“You don’t track it?” and the implication that he has so many random hookups that he can’t count them sets an alarm blaring in Onyx’s head. “How many people do you sleep with?” He’s facing away from Andres and has stepped over to the kitchen counter to start stacking things on it but he’s just getting pissed and he doesn’t know why.

It’s a stretch-- it’s a huge fucking stretch-- and he should be taking a step back and investigating why his train of thought chose these tunnels to zip down in the first place. But he doesn’t, he just does what Onyx does best, which is get mad.

“Cookies it is, then,” and he sees it as a bartering token, a give and a take, a mercy. Andres has pissed him off and now here Onyx is being nice to him by making what he wants. He should get a fucking medal.

[attr="class","mitcheltag"]andres buenaventura mission: affection's confections

[attr="class","blboxbl"]

Andres doesn't like this line of questioning. He doesn't like talking about others in front of Onyx. He doesn't enjoy sharing something that he so easily laughs about with other friends. It's different here. More...shameful. A context that has yet to code any other interaction with his group of friends. Besides, Onyx doesn't need to know- probably doesn't want to know how he spends his time when they aren't talking. Hos sometimes, his mind spirals and he finds it harder sometimes to think clearly. [break][break]

That's not fun and frankly he doubted Onyx cared to know. So acts casual, nonchalant. He shrugs at Onyx's disbelief. "Yeah, I never cared to remember." Why else were most of his contacts half blurry photos with names like 'DANNY FROM CARDIO' or 'BABS AT REDBOX ON FRIDAYS'. Just enough information for him to make the connections in his head but not enough to care about what happens afterwards. That's how much his text messages went. A few flirty lines, a saucy photo, and a date and time. [break][break]

"Uhhh...like a week? Not many...I just meet people and then I don't see them anymore." A pump and dump as it were. A nail and bail. A slam and ran. A smash and dash. A screw and withdrew. A fuck and duck. As opposed to the more serious and opposite intent of a bang and hang. [break][break]

He doesn't talk about the length of time all this crap has been around. How affected he'd become by their last interaction and their last of interaction following it. Onyx, after all, was never meant to see his momentary lapses in character. He'd changed after all. He wasn't like that kid in Galar anymore. He was better, more confident, more sure of himself. [break][break]

He didn't get sad. He didn't ruminate and spiral and overthink. That's just not him. [break][break]

"Nice!" his overly cheerful tone a little feigned as he shook off the last subject like water off a dog. "I'll order pizza, we can watch something. Oh- I guess I'll clean up and wash up first though..." he said looking around. Better toss everything than let Onyx stay near it.

[break][break]

+ onyx straub || affections confections (ee) [break][break]

[attr="class","mitchel"]He’s knocking his way through Andres’ kitchen on a wing and a prayer and an attempt at conjuring a sense of where things are located because he’s too pissed off to ask the owner of said kitchen for help. Every cupboard that he opens without finding his intended target just piles a log onto the fire, one that Andres is flaming with his nonchalant answers.

Never cared to remember. Is that so. Is that what he thought of him, then? What he thought of them? Just another thing that he never cared to remember-- not important enough to remember, or to bother not fucking other people for.

Andres’ next answer has him turning around in an honest-to-god situational comedy gold moment, and he’s lucky he gets his mouth to shut in time. “A week?” he says, barely keeping the aggrieved gasp out of his tone. “You can’t keep track of the number of people you fuck in a week?”

And Onyx was just one of them, huh.

Woah. Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah. Slow up, slow down, girl.

Why did any of this even matter? Why did it matter?

It didn’t, Onyx decided, as he finally found the cache of mixing bowls and set them on the counter before rifling through his bags for the ingredients he would need. It didn’t, because he didn’t.

He was just another non-memorable number along the span of a week in a lifetime of unimportant flings.

[attr="class","mitcheltag"]andres buenaventura mission: affection's confections

[attr="class","blboxbl"]

At some point he's wandered closer to the kitchen to grab a trash bag. It's not just wrappers and lingerie he needed to toss. Take out containers ( licked clean ), empty water bottles and cans, empty bags. Miscellaneous trash he was too tired or too lazy to get up and put in the garbage proper. He's unfurling one when Onyx turns to him, surprised at how often he go around. [break][break]

"It's not- a hook up doesn't last that long-" he said. It's more manageable than Onyx is thinking. Especially when Andres isn't always the one taking it, as it were. "I mean- it varies? Sometimes I get really busy. Sometimes things in my schedule line up-" he added trying to explain himself. Sometimes he went off on a sadness bender because of a fight with Onyx and sometimes he stayed celibate for weeks. It all depended on his mood and how mad he was. But again, he doesn't tell Onyx this. Doesn't confess how much he affected him. Even if it was very clear once they ended up in each other's arms. [break][break]

But Onyx turns back to his cooking and Andres takes a moment to try to help. He rummages through grabbing a can of PAM spray and a new cookie sheet. He rips the cardboard label off, shoving it into his newly opened garbage bag and moves to the sink to spray down one tray, setting it aside before doing to the same to a second one. Carefully, he leaves it there, not wanting to get in between Onyx and his work. [break][break]

He's not stupid, not always. He's pretty smart all things considered. Day to day, not much simulated that side of things. But Andres sometimes understood, sometimes pretended not to. The line of conversation wasn't making anything better. Whatever it was, irritated Onyx, just a bit. Or perhaps, frustrated him? Was he mad he had so many partners? Or perhaps a safety concern. [break][break]

"I don't always have a good week, and you know, I'm always safe about it."

[break][break]

+ onyx straub || affections confections (ee) [break][break]

[attr="class","mitchel"]It is, to the observational eye, rather interesting to see how the two of them mesh together; the way they move around each other in Andres’ small kitchen with more than moderate success. Onyx is angry, yes, and Andres is miffed, but they’re not crashing against each other or stepping on toes. It’s comical in a way that would surely incense Onyx even further.

Like they belonged together.

“Oh, well if it doesn’t last that long,” Onyx snaps from where he’s mixing up the dough, squeezing the bowl so tight it’s fit to crack, “then, I guess, more’s the better, huh? Here, taste this.” He holds a spoon of sugary batter out to Andres until he aqcuiesces, then goes back to mixing before reaching for the bag of chocolate chips.

“What do you mean, have a good week?” he asked, eyes narrowed and sounding suspicious.

[attr="class","mitcheltag"]andres buenaventura mission: affection's confections

[attr="class","blboxbl"]

Andres picks up after Onyx, trailing behind carefully, beginning to resemble a guilty dog more than anything else. He doesn't want to talk about it anymore, trying to move past but it felt like everything he said only elicited more questions than really satisfied Onyx's. "Well I-" he said before being silence as Onyx shoved the tip of a spoon with cookie dough in his movie. He gladly scrapes it off with his teeth, chewing. After a moment he nodded at him. "Tasting good." he said, still smiling. It's more temporary pleasure at the little taste of dough rather than the conversation. [break][break]

He can't distract Onyx well enough but it's too late to try anything else. He can't change the subject, can't kiss him. The offer of a night in didn't do much. Onyx isn't listening to any of that. He's too focused. But he can't....stop talking. That may make him angrier. [break][break]

"Uhh...like...a busy week?" There's a pause as he wandered out of the kitchen and around the immediate area to shove his hand and grab by the handful trash he had shoved underneath. He's currently using a bra as a scoop for using condoms before dumping it all into an open bag. "You know, going out. Meeting people. Hanging out." Fucking. A lot of fucking.

[break][break]

+ onyx straub || affections confections (ee) [break][break]

[attr="class","mitchel"]“Uh-huh,” he says, stirring fit to start a fire. He moves over to the baking sheets Andres so kindly prepped for him and starts to slap the dough down. For a moment he gets distracted by the sheer amount of, just, shit that Andres keeps finding, producing more and more with each sweep of his hand. He can’t believe it. He really just can’t.

He flops a dough blob down and completely misses the baking sheet and the counter; it hits the ground with a wet slap and he steps back, swearing. As he stoops to pick it up he wonders if, maybe, he’s being a little bit dramatic about this. It wasn’t like they were dating, or anything; who cared if Andres slept around a little?

I do! his heart says, as he pushes goo off his fingers and into the trashcan. He sat on my dick and told me he loved me! This is bullshit!

He lapses into a moody silence, simmering like a pot of water-- or, maybe more accurately, a time bomb.

[attr="class","mitcheltag"]andres buenaventura mission: affection's confections

[attr="class","blboxbl"]

She knows the cookie dough is on the ground. She's staring from the bedroom, standing there staring down Onyx, but she doesn't intrude. Noting the weird tension between both men, she opts to hide in her bedroom and wait till more scraps are ready for filching. [break][break]

Onyx doesn't respond. Not really. Not like before. He doesn't ask further questions, doesn't probs. He makes his way to the living room and the coffee table to begin picking up old containers and used napkins. He stops briefly to look over? "You burn yourself?" he asked, hearing the disappearing jingle of Chuchi's collar as she hides away in her bed. [break][break]

But Onyx is actively on the ground scooping up trashed cookie dough and angrily tossing it in the trashcan. Andres is quiet, check for wrappers and crumpled up chip bags between the cushions. He found bottle caps, and spare buttons. Maybe a lost, dried up french fry Chuchi had missed before dropping the cushions back down. He had been unwell since December it seemed. He'd done a huge clean in January only to...get sloppier. More frustrated. "Shit- right the pizza-!" he should order it now before they ended up waiting forever. He goes to grab his phone, quickly looking up the number. [break][break]

"What toppings you want? Or any specific soda?"

[break][break]

+ onyx straub || affections confections (ee) [break][break]