BTG2-Hey guys. So sorry that I have been ignoring this story. I lately haven't had much motivation to write. There have been some money troubles and I broke off a relationship that had been five years going. So I have been all over the place emotionally. I'm slowly getting back into writing. Don't worry, I still love ONCEST! I have gone back and read the previous chapters and I cringe at the typos! (But I'm too lazy to redo them) haha .XD
Hopefully you guys are understanding and enjoy this cute, little chapter. If you you have any ideas as to what you want to see in this story, just let me know!
It's Not About What It Is, It's About What It Can Become
The Fourth Chapter
The Other Onceler was lying on his back on the rumpled bed. His arms crossed lazily behind his head, and one leg was propped up on a knee, the foot swaying in a bored manner. He was outrageously bored out of his skull. His knitting needles sat on the night dresser close to him by the bed. He had run out of material to make any more thneeds. The needles were now cool to the touch, thanks to the lack of busy fingers upon them for the last 45 minutes.
Their—Oncie's bumpkin family were taking way too long collecting the Truffula tufts for material. It also didn't help that Brett and Chet could not get a handle on the idea that they were allowed to collect more than one tuft at a time. At first, their imbecilic behavior was funny, but now—now its grating to see on a daily basis. Even through the window, past the simple curtains, the Other Onceler watched Oncie's family scurry about like rats or chickens, back and forth in a chaotic manner, with Oncie trying to direct them in a more systematic and productive work conduct.
They were his employees, right?
Oncie needed to grow a back bone.
'Maybe I'll give him a lesson later.'
The Other Onceler glanced at the folded pile of completed thneeds in the corner that sat atop the wooden desk. Eleven thneeds were ready to be boxed, shipped and delivered to the customers that ordered them. There were eleven, but at least double, maybe even triple that amount of thneeds needed to be made by the end of the week.
—he was behind.
It was already Thursday.
He needed more material, damnit. But the material was still either up in trees or maybe being wheeled by their—Oncie's oddly short uncle. Once plucked, each Truffula tuft was inspected for dirt, bugs or Swomee Swan feathers. Then the inspected tufts were washed and conditioned, afterwards were threaded into strands to dry. This would give the Oncelers (even though it was mostly THIS Onceler) the material they needed to fill the orders that poured in daily now thanks to the mob of the townspeople demanding thneeds.
The newest batch has yet to be washed and The Other Onceler was becoming annoyed and impatient. After finishing off the last of the threaded Truffula, The Other Onceler made himself some coffee and munched on a plate of marshmallow cookies that Oncie made for the bar-ba-loots. The bears, especially the runt and the fat one, were always running amuck in their cottage. They consumed the sweets, napped on the thneeds and demanded attention from Oncie. They did not particular like him; maybe barely tolerate him because Oncie said that he was his friend.
He continued to stare at the ceiling. A smile crept on his face.
The Other Onceler brought forth the memory of this morning as his gaze of the ceiling was interrupted with his eye lids slowly closing.
He woke up too early this morning, alone. The side of the bed that Oncie designated as his was cold. The dip that his bed mate's body created was gone—and this saddened him for some reason. This was only to be remedied by the sweet sugary smell of syrup and the delicious warmth coming from the nearby stove. He took in a long, tired drag through his nose and smiled without him knowing.
'Pancakes of course.'
His hazy mind began to clear. He slowly sobered from his sleep reluctantly as he peered at the nearby clock.
"Why do you hate me, Oncie?"
"I don't HATE you. Just a content disliking." He laughed.
"Phew, thanks you clearing that up, Sweetheart."
The original Onceler no longer cringed at his other self calling him Oncie. He had either grown used to it or harbored a shallow fondness when Other Onceler used it.
That and mostly he did not have a choice as to what Other Onceler called him anyway. So Oncie stayed. The stigma that used to be associated with the name—thanks to his preponderant Mother—took a backseat. Oncie was settled into his name, but only when Other Onceler used it. He did not use his name in a disdainful or belittling way.
Not like how his Mother did.
The Other Onceler said that the name was cute. The HE was cute. Even it is still narcissistic of him to think that. Even though they share a face, they were two entities. Two personalities, even if some traits were shared, like a touch of OCD. They were two bodies, with two different forms of thinking. Different thoughts. Fortunately, Oncie was able to figure out to block The Other Onceler from spelunking through his head and reading his thoughts.
Such a strange feeling, being able to share your inner most thoughts and feelings with another without saying a word—
"Oncie, THE PANCAKE!"
Oncie quickly grabbed the handle without thinking and shifted it to the cold burner so he could put out the charred piece of sweet bread with a damp cloth.
Oncie brought the under portion of his wrist to his mouth. He was not terribly burned, but the slight stinging sensation automatically made him flinch in a dramatic manner.
The Other Onceler leapt his sitting body from the bed, the blanket crumpling to the floor—and shot to the hurt young man in the kitchen. Other Onceler made sure that the blackened pancake was far from reach and the gas stove was turned off before clutching his other self's wrist in his hand.
"Sheesh, Oncie. Way to burn my breakfast, why don'tcha?" With Oncie's arm in his hand, minding the small injury, Other Onceler led Oncie to the sink. He turned on the water. A cool, gentle stream was produced and ran across the burn. Oncie winced slightly.
He was mostly embarrassed.
His thoughts were too wrapped around his other self that he barely took notice of the pancake becoming enflamed, thus burning himself.
With another clean cloth, Other Onceler patted Oncie's wrist dry.
"Got any ointment, Oncie? Bandages maybe?"
"It's just a tiny burn. I've had worse from Brett and Chet…"
"It's just going to irritate you all day if you don't wrap it up and I don't want to have to deal with your whining all day..." Oncie noticed a spark of concern in Other Onceler's eyes, but said nothing.
"Bottom drawer. Near the bed. There should be something there."
And there was. Other Onceler took a strand of the bandage and ripped a piece with his teeth, and grabbed the small tube of ointment. He made Oncie sit at the kitchen table as he dragged his own chair to sit across from the injured Onceler.
The Other Onceler took the damp cloth from Oncie's wrist; the burn was sharp and linear and was beginning to turn pink then red then purple.
"Way. To. Go."
"Ya know, you don't have to help me then if you're gunna be mean!"
"Well one of us has to be the adult, am I right?"
"Why do you care about such a tiny burn? I'm fine."
The Other Onceler dragged a finger nail across it lightly. This made Oncie wince and hiss.
Other Onceler began to dab some of the cream on to the burn, "oh I'm sorry, did that hurt you, tough guy? Just be quiet for like ten seconds."
"Did I scare you?"
"Wow, couldn't even make it to five seconds, Oncie."
He started to wrap the bandage methodically around Oncie's wrist than tied a small knot to keep it in place. Other Onceler inspected his work, obviously proud of himself. Oncie smirked with a cheeky grin and playfully kicked his other self's chair leg.
"That you got scared when I yelped. Admit it, you were legitimately concerned."
"Well duh! What, you thought I was gunna just sit by and let you burn the house down? I sorta live here too."
"I mean about my burn, you meanie!"
Oncie scrunched his face and looked down at his shoes childishly.
"….I thought my heart was going to leap up my throat and plop on the ground."
Oncie coughed nervously. His face reddening.
'I'm so stupid.'
"Thanks, I guess. It doesn't really hurt anymore."
"Just try to keep these little incidents to a bare minimum, Sweetheart."
"Ugh, I'm barely used to you calling me Oncie. Why sweetheart now?"
"Just like nicknames, I guess, hehe. Don't you worry, I'll think of new ones."
The chuckle was light hearted, but Oncie knew he was probably telling the truth. Oncie stood up after slapping Other Onceler playfully on the shoulder. He walked towards the pancakes that were not burned. He took the stack and two plates from the cupboard to place them on the kitchen table. The Other Onceler went to the fridge to grab some juice and the milk bottle, along with some forks from the kitchen drawer. The toast that was in the toaster had popped up and were being buttered by the burned Onceler.
During the entire ritual neither Onceler noticed that they were smiling the whole time.
Once all the breakfast foods, and plates and glasses and silverware were on the table, the Oncelers sat down to eat.
It was 7:15AM.
Before taking a bite of his buttered toast, Oncie looked up to his other self, who had already shoveled in an entire pancake into his mouth, his cheeks fat and stuffed, looking like chipmunk.
Oncie gave out a small, cute and amused laugh.
"Maybe I can think of a nickname for you too."
Can you tell that I don't like Onceler's Momma?
I want to make them kiss so badly, but it's not in the cards yet!
Don't ya'll worry. There's gunna be some drama soon and story development. Still working out the kinks!