Who: Edwin and Oliver Where: Outside of the house/the road to town When: Around 9am
Oliver was in a pretty decent mood at the moment, which had a hell of a lot to do with company the night before, and then Cecilia's PM that morning. He was in a much, much better place than he had been when he'd initially gone to bed, though...maybe not quite so good as he'd been around dinner time. He'd done his typical morning workout routine, and while it felt strange to not follow it up with a run, he was more than willing to wait on Edwin. And that was...well, not part of the problem, exactly. He knew that he and Edwin needed to talk about what had happened the day before, or at least what they planned on doing with it. More sex, obviously, he hoped, but their friendship was a hell of a lot more important to Oliver than anything else. He imagined the same was true for Edwin. Being up front with each other, talking about what they did and didn't want out of it, was for the best. It was a conversation he hadn't had in a very, very long time.
And, of course, his brain inevitably marinated on what he wanted to say, or how he wanted to respond if Edwin asked any of the things he thought he might. That kept bringing him to the same circular thought, and one that probably wasn't conducive. For the first time in nearly a decade, Jason wasn't the last person he'd kissed. The last person he'd fucked, or had fucked him. It felt like something visceral had been tucked and loosened, a connection to something old and precious lost, but not entirely in a good or bad way. He wasn't certain how to feel, so he focused on what he did know. He loved Jason. He'd always love Jason. He really liked Edwin, as a friend, and obviously as a...what? Bedmate? Fuckbuddy? Friend with benefits? The titles seemed wrong, but calling it anything more than that felt strongly off in its own way. It wasn't safe or fair to try and figure it out on his own.
He dressed in his typical jogging attire, running pants and a tank top, this time with a hoodie to block out the morning chill. He'd warm up fast enough that he could pull it off and tie it around his waist if he really wanted, but he was dimly aware that he was bringing it along mostly for the pockets. As much as he and Edwin needed to talk, it was strongly implied that they were probably going to have another go at each other. While Marco had figured out what was going on pretty quickly the day before, Oliver still found himself sneaking two lubed condoms into the garment, frowning a little as his fingers toyed with one, sensing it somehow felt off. A glance at the clock and realizing he was in danger of running late distracted him enough to send him out the door and down he stairs to the foyer, heading out the main door.