A celebration was in store, this was decided by Oscar the moment the pair stepped outside of the hospital.
And a celebration that it was.
Oscar treated Bo to a dinner at the taller man’s favorite restaurant, a small pizza place on the corner of seventh and twenty two. Bo had been predictable, his choice of cheese pizza and a Dr. Pepper alongside a slice of cheesecake, Oscar followed suit.
Bo had not been very verbal, but Oscar did not mind. He had enough to talk about with small comments from the taller man when he could reply.
When Oscar and Bo arrived back at the home, the man was much more touchy than usual. He very rarely let his hands wander away from Oscar, his hands trailing up and down the smaller man’s waist and back, revelling in the way that he cou
Bradley Oliver Jones, "Bo" to his friends, was only thirteen when he first stepped foot onto the Broadway Stage, the Imperial Theatre his new home for the next eighteen wonderful months as he preformed the role of "Gavroche." A boy who uses his wits to survive on the streets of Paris in the midst of a war.Fifteen years of his life was dedicated to the stage, every breath, every tear, every preformance he left the smallest piece of his soul on stage. Finding comfort in the impracticality of the life, making his small fortune in well placed stock buying and selling.It was gone in an instant.The world he had grown up in suddenly so far from his grasps, he tumbled to the ground, a well remembered token of the Broadway community 'gone to soon.'But he didn't go anywhere.Eighteen years after his original Broadway debut, and two years after falling of the hypothetical Broadway map, Bo is working on his first album, a testimant to how his struggles hav
Bradley Oliver JonesBo, Bowie, Oliver, Oli.28 years oldFebruary 9th, 1985Occupation: Broadway Performer (previously), Composer, Musician, Writer.6 ft, 1 inDark Brown hairDark Blue eyesFlying Dumbo tattoo on upper fore
Oscar-Michael TorresOzzie.31 years oldJanuary 16th, 1982Occupation: Broadway Performer, Composer, Musician, Writer.5 ft, 8 inDark Brown hairDark Brown eyesTiny coffee cup tattoo on wrist, microphone on shoulder.
There is an art to wandering.To become a part of the crowd without really being there.
Sleep was rare on most nights.Bo found the silence of the apartment much too loud, if that could even make sense. The way each creak of the floorboard seemed to be a ghost making its way down the hallway, the echoing sounds of the City just as haunting.The nightmares of his car accident had faded, though the missing indentation in his bed could sometimes bring them back.Too much of one noise and Bo would be trapped in a loop, a never ending cycle that turned the world upside down and left him stuck wondering which way was up.He often dreamed good dreams, of Broadway Stages and an unrecognized face telling him that everything would be alright. Though Bo found the most hope in the dreamless nights, in the way that his vision would fade to black and then it would be suddenly morning. Lights streaming in crooked through the curtains that he could never quite get closed all the way, the smell of the morning in the air.But that would not be this night.He had tried for hours to fall asl
It was for the better part of an hour that Bradley and Oscar spent texting, the former barely moving from the piano bench that he had found himself at, drinking his now cold tea with a smile on his face. They spoke of everything and yet at the same time barely anything rational, just little parts of life that they felt the need to share. Bo wasn’t really sure how to approach all of this, but the contentment that he felt was fully satisfying enough that he really didn’t mind where it went.Bo turned on the bench, reaching for his cane and standing in a fluid, and well-practiced, movement. He tottered for a moment, reaching for his mug only after tucking his phone into his sweatpants pocket, the smile was a constant on his face, despite the fact that he tried to shake it away.“You’re acting like a teenager with a crush.” The words were spoken out loud, despite the fact that he was alone in the apartment. It was not necessarily a habit that he felt the need to break, his therapist had re
The break in Bo’s perceived anonymity almost threw off the rest of his walk, the sudden realization that his sister would be visiting soon and that he would either have to share everything or work twice as hard to keep it a secret, an obviously apparent thought in his mind as he continued.His concentration faltered as he noticed that he had reached his destination, the frustration of what he must deal with far too demanding of his concentration to actually focus on the world around him. The restaurant was one that he had been to before, though not in a long time, he could just remember happy memories, though it was just beyond him to recall them all the happiest stuck out. First travels to the city when he was just barely thirteen, his vocal coach bringing him to the restaurant after rehearsal.Bo’s phone buzzed, and he glanced down, finding shelter from the sun just underneath the cabana of a bodega as he clicked it on.OSM:You mind if I bringsomeone else along?Nine Fourty Two a.m
Bo could not believe someone as apparently wonderful as Oscar would show any form of interest in him, but it was there, on full display at times, though in the smallest of ways.It all started with how Oscar approached Bo outside at the beginning of their (assumed) date; the remembered fact of Bo’s dislike of shaking hands and the way that he just smiled said hello to him with an incline of a head. Then onto the introduction of Bo to Jessamine and the careful offer of a hand to help him stand after his kneeling to greet the little newcomer, and w
A celebration was in store, this was decided by Oscar the moment the pair stepped outside of the hospital.And a celebration that it was.Oscar treated Bo to a dinner at the taller man’s favorite restaurant, a small pizza place on the corner of seventh and twenty two. Bo had been predictable, his choice of cheese pizza and a Dr. Pepper alongside a slice of cheesecake, Oscar followed suit.Bo had not been very verbal, but Oscar did not mind. He had enough to talk about with small comments from the taller man when he could reply.When Oscar and Bo arrived back at the home, the man was much more touchy than usual. He very rarely let his hands wander away from Oscar, his hands trailing up and down the smaller man’s waist and back, revelling in the way that he cou
The Board of Directors had spoken briefly to each other before the entrance of Doctor Bradley Jones.It had not been brief, but rather long term and over dramatic.The head, Maria Merrywether had run the hospital for the last nine years. It had been her decision to offer the position of Assistant Head of Pediatrics to Doctor Jones, and it had been the best one yet in her position.She had seen the bias that many of her associates had taken towards the doctor and decided to ignore it, seeking the best position possible for him and noticing almost immediately how well suited he was for Bellevue Hospital.It had been his decision to start a program in Africa as well as South America, and it had been his quick work that saved the lives of so many young children that had made
“Breathe Bowie.” Oscar is reassuring, his eyes lock with Bo’s in the window glass. “You’ve got this.”Bo nods, his hands shaking as he attempts to tie his tie properly. He smooths out the lapels relaxing ever so slightly as Oscar sets both his hands on his shoulders. He takes a deep breath. “I know.” He repeats the two words two more times.“Hey, hey. You know this inside out, no matter what they say to you, everything will be alright.”Bo could not be sure if he believed the man, but he nodded nonetheless.They had only been waiting for twenty minutes, but with every second that passed Bo couldn’t help but wonder if all
He knew she was coming.He knew.It had been mentioned and planned and brought up on nearly every call, and still the knowledge of actually having a date that his sister would arrive fucked everything up.Bo says that he is excited and chatters on about the plans that he will include Oscar in if able too. But the consideration of how much he would enjoy his time with both his sister and husband bounced back and forth in his mind.It was entirely his fault that Mel was not aware of his current three limbed life. She was a busy business woman, and when he had had his accident she was on her way to runn
The moment Bo was given permission to stop wearing his brace, he appeared in better spirits.In Oscar’s eyes, he appeared calmer and overall in a happier mood. His voice was constantly bright and missing the monotone voice that had been apparent the entire time while Bo was healing. He relied on schedules and consistency and it wasn’t until Bo got too much news in too little time that Oscar saw just how fragile his thining was.For Bo, everything started to change after a call from his sister.He was calm externally, his voice bright and common as he answered the call after his shared lunch with Oscar and Jessamine. The pair watched him walk away, smiling as he answered.“Mel!” He smiled, feeling a happiness underneath all of the stressful thinkin
It was Oscar’s fault that they had fallen back asleep.The smaller man was like a heater, and due to the slight over exertion of both men in the early hours of the morning neither man was particularly surprised when they fell back asleep.Oscar was draped across Bo’s chest, his head nestled in the crook of Bo’s neck. When the taller man woke up hours later it was only due to the repeated knocking on the door of Oscar’s room.Though he quickly realized he could call it their room.“Dad!”Neither man actually reacted to t
Oscars words to Bo had left him breathless almost immediately.Though it could in part have something to do with the kissing that continued for much longer than he had expected.Seconds after his partner’s declaration, Oscar’s hands were back in Bo’s hair, pulling at it from the roots in a way that brought a small throaty sigh from his lips every time Oscar tugged.Bo felt a strange sense of passion at Oscar’s continuation of the movement, and used Oscar’s sensitivity to his cold skin as a marker for their continuing. Bo delved his uninjured right hand under the man’s shirt at the back, tracing up his spine as far as he could get the shirt to hike up.“God
When Bo wakes up it is with an arm around his waist and a warm hand splayed across his stomach. Oscar’s breath is on his shoulder, the smaller man’s steady exhales muss the hair that has grown a bit longer than usual behind his ear. He is overwhelmed by the earthy smell of Oscar, all oakwood and soft dirt after it rains.“Petrichor - the word comes from petra, which means stones, and ichor, the ethereal blood of the Greek Gods. Plants release an oil that stops their seeds from germinating when it would be too difficult to survive.” Bo’s voice was soft, slight. He didn't mean to keep speaking, but it was obvious that Oscar was not bothered. His insistence to finish the quote overtook his urge to be quiet. “The oil soaks into the pores of the stones, and is set free with water. They say it’s the smell of waiting, paid off.”To Bo, there could not be a better way to wake up, with a quote and Osc
Lydia Nine found herself entirely incapable of thinking about anything else other than how the future would look for Bradley and the new potential friend that she had found in Doctor Emily Howards. Though phrasing it this way made her feel like a giddy high school student with a crush, rather than the impressive woman that she is now.The woman knew barely anything about the doctor, and yet found herself putting together pieces of a life she did not live or even have insight on.Lydia guessed that Emily practically lived at the hospital, just like Bo had.She figured that the woman would spend most of her time walking through the halls, and that, like Bo, she was often told to take a break once a week and not return until she had slept through at least one, maybe even two, nights.