Who: Oliver and Diego When: roughly 15-16 years ago Where: an AIR Facility on the west coast Status: Complete
It was almost meal time. Diego knew that more by the feeling in his stomach than the time, though there was a clock in his room. It was big and digital, the red numbers glaring down at him from above the door twenty-four-seven, like an ominous sort of night light. It hadn’t always been a digital clock -- he vaguely remembered a time when it had been big and round with hands that went around in reliable circles. They were intended to be reliable, anyway. They’d replaced the clock because Diego kept fucking with it, pulling the hands in different directions with his power, disrupting the mechanics inside. It was good practice in precision, but then they’d taken it away from him and given him the red-eyed monster instead.
He was staring straight across at it now, but with his ass on the ceiling so the numbers were upside down. They lost all meaning then, and Diego kind of preferred that, because who gave a shit what time it was anyway? It meant nothing to him, constantly locked in this sparse room, left to his own devices except when someone came by to give him food or a few new books if he’d been good ... or to strap him down and give him a shot if he hadn’t. That had been happening more and more lately, as late-teenage rebelliousness and rioting hormones sang in Diego’s veins. He didn’t know exactly how old he was, because time had lost most of its meaning, but he knew he was almost a man now, and that scared them more and more. As it ought to.
They’d long stopped trying to prevent him from flexing his powers unless he started throwing people around, so Diego spent a lot of his time practicing different things, working on his control. He knew that if he was ever getting out of here, he would have to use his gifts, so he wanted to be fully prepared when the opportunity presented itself. As it would eventually. It had to. Today he’d flipped the gravity in his room, but he was trying to keep everything ‘above’ him stationary and normal-looking. All of his institutional furniture and fixtures -- bed, nightstand, tiny dresser, the slab that served as a table and a desk, the stool in front of it, toilet, sink -- were all bolted to the floor, but there were plenty of loose odds and ends to focus on keeping glued in place. The covers on his bed kept falling upward, but other than that he was doing pretty well. Even though he knew they had cameras on him at all times, he was enjoying imagining one of the techs walking in and unexpectedly falling to the ceiling as soon as they crossed the threshold. It might get him punished, but Diego didn’t care.
Oliver had been at work for a few hours already, although he hadn't yet been able to check in on Diego. There were other patients, Oliver hated to call them subjects, to deal with and administer medication to. And while he had been distracted for most of his shift, Oliver tried to remain as relaxed as he could as he went through the motions of his day. Even so, as it got closer to lunch time Oliver began to feel those familiar ripples of anticipation in his stomach. It was something he tried to hide from most people, because he knew if his bosses got wind of anything that reached beyond professionalism on Oliver's part, they would fire him. Maybe worse, considering the amount of NDAs he'd had to sign to even get the job.
There was still a bit of a spring in his step as he brought the tray holding Diego's lunch to the door. Oliver lifted his keycard to unlock it when his walkie released a static whine before a deeper voice came on over the radio. "Use caution Reyes. Subject is currently projecting." The radio went silent then and Oliver grimaced while staring at the door. He knew what projecting meant, but at least now he knew a guard was watching. Sighing softly, Oliver tapped his keycard to the door pad. The light went from red to green and Oliver gripped the doorhandle, pushing it open only a half an inch. "Diego." Maybe if Diego knew it was Oliver bringing his food today, there'd be less of a chance of Oliver face planting, or floating, when he stepped inside. "I have your lunch."
Since Diego was facing the door, he could see the shadow of a person moving on the other side of the small window set into it. There was chicken wire built into the thick glass, and he’d been unable to break it in spite of multiple attempts in the past. He didn’t know who it was until it opened and he heard the voice though, and just that one thing shifted his whole attitude. “Un momento!” he called. Butterflies erupted in Diego’s stomach and he quickly stood up and hurried toward one of the walls as he started to turn the gravity in the room back to where it naturally was. He followed the flow of it down, walking down the wall and then hopping onto his bed and then the floor when everything settled properly. Diego quickly swiped his fingers through his hair and hoped he didn’t smell too bad. It had been a few days since they’d let him have a shower. “Okay.”
Oliver had pushed open the door just a bit more in time to see Diego pushing his hands through his hair. It made his lips twitch, because he had done the same thing before leaving today. And maybe he was wearing cologne now, which was probably weird. He had never really cared much about his appearance before, other than making sure he maintained a decent haircut and showered regularly. But now... now he wanted to look nice for work. For this. Once Diego said it was okay, Oliver stepped inside, acutely aware of the camera in the corner watching. Listening, probably. Unless the guard got distracted by someone else, or had stepped out for a cigarette but considering Oliver was in the same room with one of their more dangerous patients, Oliver doubted they would have any privacy, so he just needed to be cautious. The door shut behind him and he carried the tray over to the table. "Pasta today. Um. Peaches. Water." He set the tray down and smiled. “Como te sientes hoy?” They didn't really like it when Oliver spoke Spanish to Diego, but they also understood it was a bonding mechanism, to get Diego to trust Oliver when he didn't trust anyone else in the facility, so they continued to allow it.
Diego’s insides were just full of fluttery feelings as Oliver walked into his room and moved to set the tray down. He was older than Diego, but seemingly not by much, and he was the most handsome man that Diego had ever seen. It had only been a few months of seeing him on occasion, but from the first moment Oliver had tried Spanish on him, Diego had been hooked. His English was passable, and he could read it much better than he spoke it, but no one had spoken his mother tongue to him in years. Not until Oliver showed up, like a gorgeous Latino angel. Now Diego feverishly hoped he was on duty every single day, usually when he was having very impure thoughts under his blankets at night. His wish had come true today, and it was hard to keep the eagerness off of his face as he looked at the older man. “Bien,” he answered. Then, quieter, “Especialmente ahora.” He rubbed the tips of his fingers together and tossed a glance up toward one of the camera bubbles on the ceiling. “And you? Are you well?” he asked, sticking to Spanish for the moment.
"Mejor ahora," Oliver said quietly. Better now. That was the truth of it. He motioned to the table. "Want me to stay for a few minutes?" He knew his bosses wanted him to spend what time he could in this room, mostly to keep Diego stable. And Oliver was, of course, willing to do so. They simply thought it was dedication to his job, and the mission of the facility, but this was definitely more for him than anything else. He enjoyed spending time with Diego, and he thought about him all the time when he wasn't at work. It was strange, finally acknowledging feelings he was having for another person when for so long, Oliver had never had any interest in someone else at all. At least not in the way he did now. Oliver had begun to wonder if maybe he was asexual, which would have been fine, but then he began to work here and he met Diego, and now he knew for certain that wasn't the case. And while they couldn't exactly be upfront with things, Oliver got the feeling Diego felt the same way.
Diego just wanted to melt into the floor when Oliver said stuff like that. He’d told himself a million times that this crush was probably just one-sided, that Oliver had his freedom and a life outside of the facility and there were surely other full, real people who were interested in him. What would he want with a sheltered, clueless, fucked up freak like Diego? Maybe the doctors had figured out that Diego was more interested in men than women and they’d hired Oliver specifically to try and make him more docile. Maybe Oliver was just humoring and pitying him. Diego didn’t know, he only knew that his heart went crazy every time Oliver smiled at him. Amongst other reactive body parts. “Yes yes,” he answered eagerly, gesturing for Oliver to sit on the stool while he plunked down on the bed. He was too excited to eat yet, and he didn’t care if it all went cold. “Do you want to play cards? Any news from the outside? What is the weather like? Who’s in the World Cup this year?”
Oliver was well aware that it was possible Diego thought he was just manipulating him, but Oliver also worried, on occasion, that maybe Diego was just using him too in order to get out. Not that anything had really happened between them, but the feeling was there, and it was evident every time they were in the same room together. Sometimes he didn't know what to think, but it was easy to squash those thoughts when they were face to face and everything inside of his chest felt warm and fluttery. Oliver sat and clasped his hands together between his thighs. Laughing, he tried to keep up with Diego's questions. "We can play cards if you want to play cards. The weather is warm and breezy. I have most of my windows open at home. The World Cup is Brazil and Germany, so of course we root for Brazil, yes?” He grinned, wishing he could give Diego more news about what was going on, but there were certain things he was forbidden from discussing. "What game should we play?"
Diego smiled over the description of the weather as he leaned over and reached for the drawer of the nightstand. Warm and breezy, that sounded nice. It reminded him of some vague recollections of home, standing on the coast of El Salvador and closing his eyes as the wind whipped off the ocean. He’d always liked the water as a boy, and it was hard to think that he hadn’t seen the sea in ten years or so. Instead of picking up the deck of cards with his fingers, Diego pulled them up into his hand with his mind, part of him wanting to show off a little for Oliver. “Brazil, yes. They will kick Germany’s ass, no question. Let’s play rummy,” he declared. Not that it really mattered. Diego was happy to do anything as long as it involved Oliver keeping him company. He made room on the bed, scooting up toward the head of it and crossing his legs, and gestured for Oliver to join him. There weren’t two chairs for the tiny table-desk, and honestly he enjoyed the idea of Oliver sitting on his bed. Diego started shuffling the deck.
Oliver used to play rummy all the time with his grandmother so he was happy enough to do it with Diego. His lips twitched when Diego lifted the cards without touch, and while he hadn't seen the full extent of Diego's abilities, Oliver didn't think anyone had, he still enjoyed it when he caught small glimpses. The instinct was there to glance up at the camera, but he resisted it and stood, walking over to sit on Diego's bed and get comfortable. They weren't sitting close enough for it to be inappropriate, but if one of the guards was watching, he would just see two young men playing cards. That was fine. Oliver tried hard not to stare as Diego shuffled the deck, but he liked Diego's hands, and his fingers. There were times in the past couple of weeks that Oliver felt the urge to reach out and touch them, but touching wasn't allowed unless Diego was getting agitated and needed to be constrained. Thankfully Oliver hadn't been on the shifts where that had to happen. Maybe because Diego controlled himself around Oliver. "How are you feeling?" Oliver murmured. "For real."
It was easy to stay in control around Oliver. Unlike nearly everyone else Diego had encountered in this place, Oliver had yet to piss him off. He was kind-eyed and gentle-voiced and never called him any nasty names. Diego loved his accent when they spoke Spanish together. It made him homesick sometimes, but in a deeply sweet kind of way. He was sure now that he would never see El Salvador or his family again, but Oliver was a lovely thin tie to home, however briefly he might be in Diego’s life. He imagined he could feel the dip from Oliver’s weight on the mattress even though there were a couple of feet between them, and he couldn’t help but fantasize about lying down with him, touching him, smelling him up close. Diego glanced up to meet his eyes as he started to deal out a hand each for them. “For real?” he echoed just as quietly, half-smiling a bit. “Like a trapped beast, most of the time. Bored and lonely and full of rage. But then you come and I feel better for a while.” It made him feel a little flushed in the cheeks to admit that, but it was the truth.
Oliver felt the pain from Diego's words, even though he expected them. Of course he was lonely and bored, and angry. Diego wasn't the only one in this building who felt that way, but Diego was isolated more than the others, because Diego was viewed as more of a threat to the people who ran this place. Oliver knew Diego had power, but when he was in this room, it was difficult for him to see Diego as anything more than a scared teenager who probably just needed guidance and understanding. Hell, Oliver was barely an adult himself and he was still flailing a bit, trying to navigate through his life. At least he wasn't locked up in a room all day, the way Diego was. He reached out to pick up the cards Diego had been dealing, wishing he could take Diego's hand instead. But the camera was like a hot coal on the back of his neck, and he wished he had a way to be able to talk to Diego in private. "I would come every day if I could," Oliver said, looking down at his cards, even as his own cheeks felt warm at the admission. "I wish I could help you more.."
Diego had wished many times that he was some sort of telepath instead of ... whatever he was. He would’ve loved to be able to have real privacy with Oliver, more for the other man’s sake than his own. Diego’s entire life had been supervised in some way, he was pretty used to it, but he knew Oliver was limited in how he could behave, what he could say. Speaking Spanish gave them a little bit of cover, but it wouldn’t be hard for the Powers That Be to find someone to translate everything they said. Still, the small sense of privacy was something he always enjoyed. Oliver’s words sent a physical thrill through him and he smiled slowly as he gazed at Oliver’s dark lowered lashes. Was he blushing? If he was, then they both were and that ... that made Diego's stomach feel like it was on a rollercoaster. He licked his lips and glanced down at the cards in his hand, hardly even seeing them now. “You help me more than you know,” he said softly, his heart beating harder. “Your visits give me something to actually look forward to.” They also reduced Diego’s desire to kill everyone in the building, but he knew better than to say that out loud.
"I'm glad." Oliver began to organize his cards though he probably wasn't as focused on the task at hand as he should have been. It was true that his bosses had started putting Oliver on more shifts covering Diego's needs, and it was probably because Diego seemed to enjoy his company. It wasn't a hardship for Oliver, obviously, and he looked forward to these visits as much as Diego seemed to. He just wished he knew what the future held, and what their plans were. Oliver wanted to be able to do more, but he was just a tech with a high school diploma and he knew this job was probably only temporary. And then what? Oliver finally brought his gaze back up to Diego's face. "Is there anything you need, or want? More books? Something to write in? I could ask them... if I tell them it'd keep you calm, they might be willing."
Planning for anything in the future was a foreign concept to Diego. His days were almost all the same -- the lights came on at seven AM, he was fed breakfast, he was fed lunch, he was fed dinner, then lights out at nine. He read books and practiced his gravity in between. Every other day he was escorted down the hallway to the showers. Once a week he was moved to another, smaller box so they could clean his room -- and take anything from him they deemed contraband. Every few months or so the scientists took him into other rooms to try and make him perform for them, like he might eventually be ground down enough to cooperate. That never ended well for anyone. They told him that if he would behave more they would allow him a movie night once a week, but that had only happened a couple of times. This was the life he had, and he didn’t think it was going to change. Someday he might hang himself and be done with it all, but that urge had been reduced since Oliver started coming around.
Someday Oliver would stop coming though, he would move on with his life, maybe get promoted and start doing something else, and he would forget about Diego. And that was okay, he deserved that. Diego was just going to enjoy this time with him as much as possible while it lasted. That was all he could do when it came to good things. He smiled brightly at Oliver’s questions, straightening up a bit. “Something to draw on,” he suggested immediately. “The paper they give me always has lines on it, they get in the way. Maybe some colored pencils? Markers? Something more than black and white, there is so little color here. More books are always good, they help with my English ... some kind of music? I haven’t heard music in so long.”
Oliver didn't want to think about the day where he might get fired, or let go, or reassigned. He felt like they needed him though, just based on the questions they asked him about Diego, how they wanted Oliver around on the days where they took Diego in for examinations and tests. Oliver figured it was because he calmed Diego, which was fine if it meant making sure Diego was okay. Not that Oliver could have done much if he wasn't. He knew the guards had tasers and guns. And they were always lurking. He grinned at Diego's request. Light conversation was so much better than thinking about what could happen down the line. "Yes, I can do that. Drawing pads, color pencils or markers." Markers most likely. Pencils can be sharpened and used as weapons, Oliver knew. "Books and music. I'll try my best," he added in English before looking back down at his cards. "I'll sneak my ipod in next time if they say no. You can listen to music for a while before they confiscate it. Anything in particular you want loaded on it? Any songs?"
Diego beamed at that last part, an expression that was uncharacteristically sunny on him, dimples and all. He didn’t want Oliver to get into trouble -- they might stop him from visiting if that happened -- but sneaking anything in was a favor, and the idea that Oliver wanted to do him a real favor made his stomach feel all flip-floppy again. And God, that smile of his ... Diego would be taking that look to bed with him tonight. “Muchas gracias, mi amigo,” he told him with sincerity. “But I don’t even know what to ask for ... your favorite songs. I want to know what you like.” Diego’s teeth briefly sank into his bottom lip and his eyes lingered again on Oliver’s face. He wanted to know everything about him -- what kind of clothes he wore in his off time, what TV shows he liked, what kind of music put him into what kind of mood, how he kissed, what his body might feel like ... He blinked and tried to shake it off, looking down at his own hand again. They hadn’t even really started playing, but rearranging the cards at least gave him something to do with his fingers.
That look on Diego's face would make getting into trouble well worth it. It was such a rare thing to see the other boy smile, and he wanted to try and make it happen again, and again. Chuckling a little at Diego's request, Oliver realized they weren't really playing rummy, but pretending to so they could sit close and talk in low voices. That was more than okay with him. "You might not like my music, but... I'll put some songs on a playlist for you. Things you might like too. If you hate them you can tell me that my taste in music is trash." His grin deepened as he looked up at Diego. Already he knew he would put songs on there that might tell Diego how he felt without actually having to say it. He could speak through music instead of being worried that his bosses might overhear him in here. And... maybe then he would know if this was real, or just something Oliver had been hoping for on his own. "And books? I can bring you some of mine from home. They're mostly mysteries, but they will help pass the time unless there are other kinds you want. Fantasy? Romance?" He lifted his brow teasingly.
Diego felt like a sponge when it came to any sort of media -- he didn’t have tastes of his own, because he hadn’t been exposed to much of anything new for the majority of his life. He remembered loving the folk songs from his childhood, the lullabyes his mother would sing to him, but he didn’t recall what any of them were called and he didn’t know if they would be easy to get a hold of, or even if she just used to make them up. Diego hardly knew what an ipod was in the first place. But he was thirsty for all of it, to hear new things and associate them with Oliver. “If you like trash music, I will definitely tell you,” he said even though he was sure he would love every note. Diego tittered, his cheeks getting pinker at the suggestion of a romance book. Were those even a thing? “I like mysteries. And fantasy, with the elves and dwarves and dragons. I will read anything you bring. I have never read a romance book though, are they good? Do you like them?” Diego raised an eyebrow too, subconsciously mimicking Oliver’s teasing expression. He felt downright giddy at the moment, and it was so hard not to reach over and touch Oliver’s hand or wrist or something.
Oliver laughed and nodded. "There's nothing like a good romance, preferably with pirates and women in bodices." He had never actually read a romance, but his abuela had always had paperbacks scattered around her home, so what he knew about them, he picked up from their visits. "But I think I'll stick to bringing in some mysteries and fantasies for you." Maybe he would write messages in the books. Maybe he would have to code them if the guards checked the pages, but Diego was intelligent, he would probably figure it out. It occurred to him in that moment just what lengths he was willing to go to in order to communicate with Diego without someone else watching or listening in. He wanted to keep his job, not only because he needed the money, but because this was the only way he would be able to see Diego. He was jeopardizing it by trying to find ways around the rules, but he didn't think he could help it at this point. They just needed to be careful. He looked over at Diego's cards and considered for a moment before his eyes lifted to Diego's. "I think we should switch hands." He offered his cards out to Diego, aware that it was an innocent looking gesture, but it meant they could touch. Maybe briefly... maybe just a graze of fingers, but if that's all he could have at the moment, he would take it.
Diego laughed a little at the first part and wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t terribly interested in pirates and women. Pirates and other pirates, maybe ... he wondered if those sorts of stories ever got written. Stories like his and Oliver’s. Though their story might be all in his head, he knew that. Even if it was, it felt too good to let go of, and he would keep trusting that Oliver wasn’t just pretending to like him for some ulterior motive, whether it was just to keep him docile or to hurt him later. It wouldn’t be the first time someone here had tried to gain his trust, Oliver was just by far the most successful. His smile spread again as his eyes ticked up from the offered cards in Oliver’s hand. He saw the same opportunity immediately, of course, and it took all the willpower he had not to move too fast and grab Oliver’s hand. When had been the last time he’d been touched by someone who didn’t mean him harm? He couldn’t even remember. “Okay,” he murmured, just to say something. Diego reached for Oliver’s cards with one hand and offered his own with his other. The brush of his fingers against Oliver’s hand was tentative but slow, because he just had to savor it.
Oliver was sure there were stories out there about two men. He just had no idea where to look for them, and honestly, before he met Diego, he rarely thought about it. Diego seemed to understand why Oliver wanted to trade cards, even though that was definitely not in the rules of rummy, and Oliver reached out with his free hand to take Diego's cards as he offered his own. He didn't rush, but let his fingers graze slowly against Diego's. It was probably cliched, and written somewhere in some romance novel, but the touch was electric. His stomach did a pleasant sort of flip flop and he wished he could touch more, like holding Diego's hand, or touch his cheek, or his hair. For a second, he shifted his fingers to grip Diego's before reluctantly pulling away with the new cards. He wanted to wait longer, but he knew they were watching, and any lingering touch would be looked upon with suspicion. Oliver kept his eyes on Diego though, a small smile curving at his lips. "These cards are much better," he murmured.
It felt like sparks under his skin, glittery tingles racing up Diego’s arm from the contact. It was an entirely new sensation to Diego, filling his chest and stomach with butterflies. And his cock full of blood. The instant that Oliver pulled away, Diego felt the loss. He already craved more of that feeling, more of that magic dancing along his nerve endings. If his body reacted that much to just a touch of the hand, Diego thought he would probably explode if any other parts of their skin touched. He didn’t see how that would ever be possible, but a boy could dream, couldn’t he? And Diego was sure he would be dreaming tonight. He wasn’t terribly good at controlling his facial expressions, and Diego realized that he was just staring at Oliver with his mouth hanging open and a hazy sort of vacancy in his eyes. He blinked rapidly and tried to pull himself together, shifting his legs to make the bulge in his cotton pants a little less obvious. Diego looked at his new hand, hardly seeing it. “Much better,” he mumbled, his cheeks feeling hot.
Oliver kept his eyes on his cards, but his lips curved into a knowing smile. He felt rejuvenated in a way. Like touching Diego had somehow filled that void of physical affection, even though it had only been brief. Like Diego, Oliver wanted more of it. Surely he could come up with new excuses to touch the other man. But if playing cards was the only feasible way to do it, then they would play cards every day. He knew just from the look on Diego's face that he had been feeling the same things Oliver had, and that just made the warm feeling in his gut intensify. "That will be the best part of my day, by far," Oliver murmured, trying to keep his voice low so as not to be overheard by the camera. "I won't be able to stop thinking about it."
There was a butterfly riot in Diego’s stomach, and Oliver’s words did nothing to calm them down. He was slowly realizing that Oliver had been just as eager to touch him as the other way around. Diego had been blissfully unmolested in this place -- except for techs and guards wrestling him into submission, nobody had touched Diego inappropriately. Considering the circumstances under which he’d been taken from his home and transported to the US when he was seven, and the horrible events that had triggered his latent powers, he considered that a blessing. He hadn’t really thought he would ever want someone else to touch him ever again, but here he was, hormonal and full of yearning for the guy sitting across from him. “I wish we could just ... break the cameras,” Diego muttered. That would just attract attention though, and he couldn’t throw Oliver under the bus for all this. He fiddled with his cards and glanced up at Oliver. “I wish you could stay all the time,” he murmured softly.
Breaking the cameras was a good way to get fired, but Oliver knew what Diego was saying. If he could find a way around the cameras, he would. But being a lowly tech meant he didn't have access to so many of the rooms and equipment that the others did. Maybe someday. Oliver's lips twitched a little at Diego and he nodded once. "Me too." Honestly, more than anything else he wished he could just take Diego out of this place. Oliver knew he had been here for a very long time, and this was no place to live, despite the reassurances from everyone around him that this was for the greater good. "But I'll come by tomorrow, hopefully with a few books and some markers. Make sure you eat your lunch today though, okay?" He hated asking Diego to be compliant to the people who hurt him, but Oliver knew if Diego didn't cooperate, there would be less chance of Oliver being able to bring those things to him later. They would put someone else in charge, someone bigger and meaner.
Oh right, his lunch. Diego glanced over at the covered tray still sitting on the little desk. It was probably cold by now and he still wasn’t hungry, but he would have to stuff it down before Oliver left, as they couldn’t leave him with anything that could be fashioned into a weapon. Nevermind that he was a weapon on all his own. That was why they kept him in his room so much. They were only making him stronger though, stronger and more angry and determined to find his opening. Leaving the Facility and actually going somewhere to live a life seemed like some faraway dream, but Diego would fight his way as far out as he could someday. Not now, maybe not even soon, but someday. “How much longer do you have?” he asked in English, looking up at the big red-eyed clock. His stomach was still in happy knots, but if Oliver asked him to eat, he would eat.
Oliver didn't even need to look at the clock. "About ten minutes." He slid the cards into a pile in his hand, aware that they hadn't played a thing with them. That was okay. What he had gotten out of it was much better than a game of rummy. "If you don't eat, you know I have to take the food." And then Diego would go without until dinner. "I'd rather you eat so you can maintain your energy." He didn't want to give anyone a reason to make things difficult for Diego. They might see him not eating lunch as being uncooperative, and then maybe they would punish him further by forgoing dinner. Oliver didn't want to be the cause of that, especially since he was the one who had been distracting Diego in the first place.
Diego hadn’t yet had the willpower to carry out a hunger strike, but he’d skipped plenty of meals to be obstinate in the past. It never got him very far. The head of security had told him more than once that they didn’t negotiate with any residents, and they would sedate and tube feed him before they let him starve. The threat of that had always been enough to make him eat. He didn’t want to push things that far with Oliver though, not in the slightest. Diego sighed like a child asked to do a chore, then dropped his hand of cards onto the blanket between them and got up from the bed. He plunked down on the stool in front of the desk, and pulled the foil wrapping off of the tray. The food wasn’t bad, as one small mercy ... or maybe all of Diego’s points of reference were warped. It didn’t matter, really. He started to eat, doing it fast so he wouldn’t keep Oliver there longer than he was supposed to be, even if it went against all of his personal desires. “Are you working all week?” he asked in between bites.
While Diego slipped off the bed to go eat, Oliver gathered up the cards to put them away. When he finished, he walked over to stand against the wall near the door, aware that it might look suspect if he sat close to Diego at the table too. "I'm scheduled off on Thursday, but I'll be here the other days." His day off would give him some time to get to the store and buy a few things for Diego. He would have to get clearance first, but Oliver didn't think it would be a problem. They knew that Oliver was the only person Diego trusted in this entire facility, so he felt like maybe he had some leverage there. And it wasn't like he was asking to bring in drugs or sharp objects. Drawing supplies and books were innocent enough. His iPod too. "I'll bring you some gifts when I return," he added with a smile.
Diego looked at him while he chewed, trying to remember if he knew what day of the week it was. Sometimes they told him, sometimes not. “How long until Thursday?” he asked first, sounding a tiny bit sheepish about it. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know, but Diego felt stupid for not knowing things that weren’t his fault all the time. But if he knew what day Oliver wouldn’t be there, he could be ready for it to be a shittier day, and then maybe he could orient himself to the weekday and figure out the pattern to Oliver’s schedule. The idea of gifts made him smile though, which kind of got in the way of eating, but Diego didn’t care. He was an eighteen-ish year old boy with a healthy metabolism, and now that he’d gotten past the initial face-stuffing, he was inhaling the rest of his meal.
Oliver forgot for a second that Diego probably had no idea what day it was. It wasn't like he had a calendar in here. Realizing this, Oliver decided from now on anytime he brought lunch by he would greet Diego with the day. Maybe he would be able to start and keep track. "It's Tuesday today," Oliver explained with a grin. "So... two days." It might feel longer to Diego, but Oliver knew he couldn't work seven days a week. Sure, he could use the money, but he needed time away from this place too. His own sanity depended on it. Which again, made him wish he could somehow take Diego away from it and show him the real world, outside of these walls. Oliver had a feeling that the facility would do so themselves one day, but it wouldn't be pleasant in the least. His walkie beeped before some static came through, followed by a clear voice. "Time's up, Reyes." Oliver glanced at the camera in the corner of the ceiling before looking back at Diego. "I'm not leaving yet. You can finish." He would get into trouble, but a stern talking to was something he could handle.
It was too short of a visit, always too short. Diego didn’t remember ever hearing any of the other techs get calls like that, hurrying them along out of his room. But then again, none of the others had really wanted to stay with him longer than was necessary. They certainly didn’t indulge him in card games, especially not pretend ones. He was supposed to eat and they were supposed to leave and that was it. Usually Diego was more than happy to get rid of them and be alone again, but that had never been the case when it came to Oliver. He gave the walkie talkie a wary look and hurried to finish off the last of what he could fit into his stomach from the tray. Then Diego put the lid back on it and stood up with it, holding it on both sides as he offered it out to Oliver. It was another small chance to touch, and he couldn’t pass it up. “I’ll see you at dinner?” he asked, unable to dampen the eagerness in his expression.
Oliver knew he got a few extra minutes with Diego than the others would. There were days they let him just hang out in the room, especially if they had testing to do on Diego later. Oliver always made it seem like he was on board with it to help the team as much as he could, but there were definitely ulterior motives to his eagerness. Obviously. Pushing away from the wall, Oliver reached out to take the tray from Diego, purposefully placing his fingers beneath Diego's and lingering as he smiled. "Yes. I'll be back at dinner time. Do you need anything else before I go?" They both knew there was little Oliver could do for him at this point, but it always felt right to ask. Because if Diego did need something, he would try as hard as he could to make it happen.
Once again, the warm touch of Oliver’s hands sent a rush of tingles up Diego’s arms. He had no idea how obvious they were being to anybody looking closely at the cameras, so he tried not to hold onto the tray for too long ... but God, he wanted to. He couldn’t even list all the things he wanted to do though, and Diego was accustomed to not doing any of it. So he let their fingers linger together for a few heartbeats before his hands fell away. Still smiling, he shook his head a bit. Oliver couldn’t give him the things he really needed, but he was as content as he could be at the moment. “Just come back, that’s all. You have given me so much already.”
"I can do that." Oliver's smile remained on his lips and he finally stepped back to walk to the door. He had other patients to help, and some work to get done, but now he had something to keep his mind busy. And frankly, he felt good, those brief touches energizing him in a way he hadn't really thought possible. Maybe soon he could figure out how to enjoy more than a few brief moments. It would be difficult, and maybe impossible, but he would try nonetheless. Oliver balanced the tray with one hand and used the other to open the door. He couldn't linger now, so he glanced over at Diego with a smile and slipped out into the hallway. Dinner couldn't come soon enough.