The story outline was finished ages ago, so I just have to fill it every week…

Aiming for 10,000 views!

This story was adapted from a Taiwanese/Korean Drama (I won't tell the title, because it would be a spoilers alert), but I have my own plot for the HTGAWM version so sit back and enjoy guys!

The creak of the door was loud in the silence of his apartment. Connor stepped inside the dark loft, curious as to where his husband was. He carefully walked to the guest room to check if Oliver was already asleep, but the room was empty. He immediately ran to the bathroom to see if Oliver had somehow slipped again, but the bathroom was also empty.

Connor was relieved at first since he still had time to organize his thoughts before talking to Oliver. Then worry overtook him when he realized that Oliver should have been back home hours ago. He frantically ran to the guest room to check if Oliver's possessions were still there. He was comforted to see that Oliver didn't run away and take their child when he saw Oliver's suitcase on the corner and pictures of his family on the nightstand.

Connor continued walking towards the nightstand to see the pictures clearly. One frame showed a picture of his husband's family, taken during Michaela and Aiden's wedding. Connor smiled a little when he saw his husband's genuine smile from the photo; Michaela was in the middle smiling and holding her bouquet, Oliver was beside her—his eyes scrunched and back hunched from laughing. His husband's mom was next to him— right hand covering her lips. On the other side was the groom—eyes wide and face stunned. The photo was noticeably candid, snapping a beautiful moment of the Hampton-Pratt Family.

The other frame was a picture of a brunette man holding a toddler in his arms. Connor didn't need to second guess that the toddler was his husband, the smile and the hazel eyes were the only clues he needed. Connor deduced that the man in the picture was Oliver's real father; he knew that Oliver and Michaela have different parents. He smiled at the picture and put it right back.

Connor went to his own room to change clothes, and glanced at his watch; the short and long hands were now vertically aligned to each other. It's already 6 pm and his husband was still not home yet.

"Damn it!" Connor cursed. He took his phone out to call Oliver and demand his whereabouts, but as he scrolled to his phone book, he just realized that his husband's name wasn't listed yet. "Fuck!" he cursed again and flung the useless phone on the bed. He was worried about his husband's health, knowing that the low temperature was not good for the baby.

'Damn it! He's a grown man! I shouldn't be worried about him.' Connor thought to reassure himself, and busied himself in work while waiting for his husband.

Almost two hours had already passed and Oliver was still not back. Connor groaned in frustration. "Damn it! Where the hell are you?" he shouted to an empty apartment. He flopped back heavily to the desk chair, squeezing his brain to remember Oliver's company name. "Fuck! I don't know anything about my husband!" he grudgingly stood up, frustrated at Oliver for getting home late and at himself for not knowing anything about his own husband.

Connor was just about to call Asher to help him contact Oliver when he heard the doorbell rung, and his body automatically ran towards the door. He slammed the door open, ready to shout at his husband. "Where—" he started.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Oliver cut him off, hands folded together above his head, eyes shut tightly as he apologized to Connor.

Connor thought it was a little cute every time Oliver acted like that; it reminded him of the first time they met at Vegas.

"I'm really sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to stay up late." Oliver pleaded.

Connor didn't want to put a show for the other tenants on that floor, so he aggressively pulled his husband inside. Oliver stumbled in his steps because of his sprained ankle. "Ouch!" Oliver cried.

"Shit! That hurts?" Connor asked and gently guided Oliver towards the couch. "Don't move," he ordered and went to the kitchen to grab some ice and a wash cloth. He went back to Oliver and sat next to him. He took Oliver's injured leg and placed it on the coffee table. Scooting closer, Connor put the ice—covered with a clean towel—on Oliver's ankle.

Oliver hissed when the cold made contact with his skin. "It's just a sprain. I'm okay." He tried to tug his leg back from Connor's grip, but Connor didn't let go.

"Explain," Connor said, still pressing the towel on Oliver's foot. "Why were you out so late?"

Oliver sighed and started explaining himself. "…. and then I met a friend who I hadn't seen for a long time. I'm sorry I didn't know that I spent so much time, I just really miss him," he said sheepishly.

Connor was ashamed; he was ready to blame Oliver for making him worry, when it was entirely his fault. He just didn't have his husband's number, but he also forgot to give him the keys for the apartment. 'Fuck Walsh! That's another way of cruelty.' He intended to be mean to Oliver, but not in this way where the health of their baby was on the line. He didn't want Oliver to catch pneumonia and die. 'Shit! Shit! Shit!' He reprimanded himself, but he didn't show that he was blaming himself, instead he acted cool and dominant.

Connor put the towel on the couch and stretched his palm towards Oliver.

Oliver eyed the hand before gripping it tightly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I promise." Oliver was scared that Connor would be mad at him and his idea to see Mochi would fail.

"Your phone, idiot," Connor chuckled and wiggled his fingers. Oliver put his phone in Connor's hand, curious as to why Connor was asking for it.

"I'll put my number in it," was Connor's answer to Oliver's questioning looks. He dialed his number to Oliver's phone and made a missed call to his own phone, so that he also had Oliver's number. "Call me if anything happens." He was just about to return Oliver's phone when it vibrated in his hands. The screen showed a picture of Oliver with another man; their cheeks pressed together as they squeezed themselves to fit on the camera screen. Oliver's smile was alike on the photo he saw earlier in his room; sweet and genuine. The picture was obviously taken earlier; the scarf and the coat that Oliver was wearing now matched his clothes in the picture. But what made his blood boil was how the guy's arm was looped around his husband's shoulder, and Oliver's face was blushing red. 'I'm not jealous! He's just a friend, I don't even know if he's gay or not.'' He chided.

"Thomas is calling," Connor said coldly and passed the phone back to Oliver. He continued pressing the ice cold towel to Oliver's ankle and eavesdropped on Oliver's phone conversation.

"Hey, I thought I was going to call you," Oliver answered in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Yeah… yeah… I got home safe…"Connor can only hear Oliver's responses, so he doesn't really know what they were talking about. "Connor's home too." Connor snapped his head up when he heard his name in the conversation. "Yeah... Okay… see you tomorrow." Oliver grinned before ending the call.

"So that was Thomas?" Connor started, getting Oliver's attention. "He knew about me?"

"Uh… yeah…" Oliver answered unsurely. "Ughh… I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry." He apologized to Connor. He explained further when Connor gave him a puzzling look. "Well… we are technically divorced and I introduced you as my husband. I'm so—"

"Don't be!" Connor cut him off. "I mean… it's okay. I'm still technically your husband," he amended. 'Take that! I'm Oliver's husband! I'm his!' "No I'm not." he answered his inward voice loudly.

"Huh?" Oliver asked. "You're not what?"

"I'm not… not mad."

"Oh thank god. I thought you were really angry." Oliver breathed a sigh of relief.

Connor only grinned as a response and asked him about his friend. Unfortunately, that was a wrong move because blood had conquered his mind as Oliver babbled about Thomas. 'Thomas this and Thomas that. Fuck him! Don't fuck him! Shit!'

"… and Thomas said that he—" Oliver was giggling now as he continued his story about his best friend. He was startled when Connor suddenly cursed and stood up from his position.

"I'm tired. I need sleep," Connor informed Oliver as he tossed him the cloth, marched to his room and slammed the door loudly; leaving a stunned Oliver to attend to his own injury.

"Fuck! Why am I feeling liking this?" Connor complained and buried his face in the pillow, forcing himself to fall asleep.

When Oliver woke up the next morning, a set of keys, tied on a red ribbon, was dangling from his door knob. He squealed when the cubic glass key chain name tag reads 'Oliver Hampton-Walsh'; that sure made Oliver's day. When he and Thomas met later that day, he was still grinning and unconsciously played with his new key chain; bragging to Thomas about his new gift from Connor.

"Oliver? Oliver?" Thomas asked as he waved his left hand in front of Oliver's face. "Penny for your thoughts." He jokingly patted his pocket for coins.

"Stop that." Oliver slapped Thomas's hands away, but still grinned at his lame pun. They had been like this ever since their reunion a few weeks back. They would always meet to cover the years they had spent apart.

Oliver would always left the apartment after Connor left for work, but he would always come back before his husband. The married couple talked to each other of course, you really can't avoid the people you are living with, but Oliver only talked about what he had done that day because he really didn't know what were Connor's interests. It's usually him who talked, and every now and then Connor would just add a negative comment, but it didn't deter Oliver from continuing their one-sided conversation.

"What were you thinking about?" Thomas pried as he took a bite of his salad.

"I was just thinking about Connor." Oliver replied longingly, adjusting the glasses back from his nose.

"What about him?"

"He seems so distant. I'm really trying to reach out to him, but every time I talk about anything, he gets irritated." Oliver sighed, playing with his own food. He made a mental note to himself that he needed to buy mochi again because restaurant food would not satisfy his cravings.

"Hmmm… What do you talk with him anyway?"

"Mostly our trips, where we've been to… or what we've seen…"

"He's just jealous," Thomas mumbled something that Oliver didn't quite get.

"Again?" Oliver asked him to repeat.

"I know why Connor seems so distant."

"Really?" he asked enthusiastically.

"Of course, I know. It's because it's your birthday." Thomas took a box from his bag and pushed it towards Oliver. "Happy Birthday, My Hakachu!" He greeted him.

Thomas lied; he surely knew why Connor was acting cold to Oliver. Connor was just jealous of his growing relationship with Oliver. He won't say anything to Oliver though because he knew it might cause a bridge between their friendship. He had lost him once, he cannot lose him once again.

"My birthday is not until tomorrow." Oliver protested lightly, but still grabbed the box and tore the wrapper. "Oh my god!" He gasped as he saw the navy blue cardigan. "It's Hermes! This is expensive, Thomas." he said disbelievingly. "I… I don't know what to say."

"Say Thank you, Thomas. You are the bestest and most awesomest friend ever," he said; failing to mimic Oliver's voice.

Instead of feeling insulted, Oliver giggled at Thomas's joke. He stood up from his seat and gave Thomas a hug, pressing his already swollen belly to Thomas's face. "Thank you, Thomas. You really are the bestest and most awesomest friend ever," he repeated and pecked him on the forehead.

"You're welcome," Thomas replied and blushed when he felt Oliver's lips on his forehead. "I had to give it to you today because my flight is tomorrow evening and I don't know if we could still meet then." he said staring upwardly at Oliver.

"It's okay I understand." Oliver averted his gaze and went back to his position earlier.

Before Thomas lost his sanity from that small kiss, he continued his explanation. "Connor is distant because he is obviously making you a surprise present." Thomas forced a smile.

Oliver laughed humorlessly. "Impossible. Connor don't do those kinds of things."

"Okay." Thomas continued, one brow arched as he stared at his friend's reaction. "I don't know what your issues are, but I think a dinner to talk about your problems will help. A little romance wouldn't hurt," he suggested. "Maybe, instead of going out for your birthday. It's better to just have a small romantic dinner inside your apartment."

Oliver didn't respond to Thomas because he was too distracted of how he can prepare meals for his own birthday.

The next morning Oliver woke up earlier than necessary; he dressed casually, but added the blue cardigan that Thomas had given him yesterday. He needed to go to the supermarket earlier so he could get the freshest meat and vegetables. He opened the door of his room and saw that Connor was also coming out from his room. "Good morning," he beamed at him.

"Morning." Connor replied, already dressed in his work attire; a simple muted gray suit. Hair was gelled to perfection.

"Are you working late tonight?" Oliver asked him giddily.

"No." Connor replied.

"Would you make it to dinner tonight?"

"Yeah… yeah…" Connor said surely. Ever since he got married, he would now always eat dinner at home. Chinese takeaways was nothing compared to Oliver's meal.

"Great!" Oliver grinned, and clapped. "Today is my bir—" he was cut off by Connor's voice.

"Nice jacket," Connor noticed; he knew Oliver's choice of clothing was always plain. He never owned anything bright, not unless someone gave it to him. "Is that new?"

"Oh... this… thank you." Oliver played the end of cardigan. "Uhmmm… Thomas gave it to me becau—" he was cut off again.

"I need to go. I'm late," Connor said coldly, and didn't really pay attention when Oliver shouted about the dinner plan.

Connor paced the room, where the interns were seated around a meeting table. His eyebrows furrowed every time he flipped the papers in his hand. The interns were nervous as they wait for their boss to finish evaluating their case arguments.

"No." Connor threw one report to a girl who was trembling in his seat. "Trash." He threw another, hitting another employee in the eye, but ignored him. "Garbage." He crumpled and threw it backwards and glared at his interns. He flung the other papers around the room and slammed his palms loudly on the table; making them shiver. "You call yourselves lawyers! Even kindergarteners can make these. I am not paying you to give me scraps! You're not qualified to work here!" he growled in anger

"You! Lady with the red headband!" Connor pointed to a brunette.

The brunette hesitantly looked up at her boss. "S… sir?" she asked nervously. This was a first time to see her boss like this. Connor was always calm and collected.

"What company do you work for?" he asked, feeling frustrated, elbows leaned on the back of his chair.

"Uhmm… Walsh-Millstone Law Firm sir," she said unsurely.

"And what is the company well known for?" Connor challenged her.

"Uhmm.. It's a major law firm which specializes in—"

"Exactly!" Connor shouted, still frustrated at the low competence of his employees. "A major law firm! Your standards must always exceed your limitations. And what you gave me is… is… I can't even describe how horrible these are!" he shouted at them. "Who in their right mind had thought of this?" he yelled, frustration growing in him as he peeked at the designs.

"I… I did, sir." The woman in his right said as she raised her trembling hand. "I… I thought that if we take the guilty plea then the—"

"Well, you thought wrong!" Connor mocked. "Present me with a new argument by the end of the day or all of you are fired!" he threatened.

The employees immediately nodded their heads and frantically thought of a different argument to win their case.

Connor grudgingly walked away from them, but before he could exit the room, he added. "And if I ever see that you needed a doctor for an expert opinion, I swear that all of you will never work in any law firms again!" He made a dramatic exit by slamming the door behind him and swiftly walked to his office.

Connor flopped heavily down to his office chair, took pain killers from his desk drawer and drank it with a scotch he reserved for rare occasions. Being the owner of the company has its own perks such as drinking alcoholic beverages, though he always limited his drinking to only one glass, still trying to be a model for his subordinates.

"Arghhh!" He groaned as he pressed the heels of his palms on his forehead. "Fuck this!"

Asher suddenly barged inside Connor's office. He never knocks in his Connor's office despite that he just still a junior partner in the firm. "What the hell is wrong with you, Walsh!" and yes, being the boss's best friend gave him the privilege to also curse him face-to-face. "These arguments are great. We need a doctor in the stand."

"Find another way."

"Why won't you approve them? We can argue that Mrs. Reynaldo— Connor?" Asher inquired, his voice softening when he saw his best friend's face; confused and angry. "What's wrong?"

Connor mumbled something, but Asher didn't hear him clearly. "What did you say?"

"Can't I just hate the doctors, huh!?" Connor shouted angrily. He suddenly stood up from his chair, trudged towards Asher, and then he began yelling at him. "I just hate it! I hate the doctors! I hate needled! I hate acupuncturist! I hate anything related! And I hate that freaking beard!"

Asher got it now - why his best friend was acting weird. Connor was jealous, green glares evident from his eyes. He let his best friend rant about his problems because he knew it was the only way Connor was going to relieve himself.

"I hate how he always talks about Thomas! I hate how he shares his friendly dates with me!" He air quoted the word 'date' like a teenager. "I hate his smile whenever he remembers something that Thomas had mentioned. I hate that he spent most of his time with Thomas! It's been weeks of Thomas this… Thomas that… and I'm sick of it!" He spat disgustingly. "And I hate how he blushed when he admitted that Thomas was gay!" He forcefully pulled Asher's collar closer to his face. "I also hate you!"

Asher raised his hands in surrender, confused why the anger was suddenly directed at him. "What did I do?"

"I just do!" Connor glared at his friend and raised his fist at him. "You know you had the Sam build and height." He never met Thomas personally but he had seen him from the picture that Oliver showed to him before. "Just one punch…"

"Whoa! Whoa! Wait!" Asher instantly backed off, stepping away from his insane friend. "Chill dude! That's a lot of hate there. Violence won't solve anything, and you'll ruin my pretty face." He backed away further from his friend. "Deep breaths, okay?"

Connor did what he was instructed. He breathed deeply while he tugged his hair.

"Okay?" Asher asked again and when he received a nod, he cautiously approached his friend. "Connor, relax. Stop being jealous."

"I'm not jealous," Connor denied. "I just hate him."

Asher sighed, he really hated this part of Connor, always trying to be superior even when it was already obvious. "You are. And don't deny it," he said when he saw Connor opening his mouth to protest. "You are jealous. No wait… scratch that. You are the green monster itself," he accused him. "It's ridiculous to hate a person who he didn't even do anything to you. You are obviously jealous because Thomas is spending more time with him and I get that it's really hard… considering your rocky relationship with him. But if you're going not going to say something to him, then nothing will be solved. You have to man up and take what's yours."

"I can't do that," Connor protested.

"Yes you can. You are the Connor Walsh. You can do anything; own everything." Asher boosted his best friend's ego. 'Love brings out the worst in him' he thought sympathetically. "Make him remember that he is yours and that no is allowed to be near him."

"Yeah…" Connor thought about it momentarily. 'I'm his husband! And until we are officially divorce, He is still mine,' he thought proudly. He strutted towards his desk to take his suitcase under it and stride towards the door. "He is mine," He said with great conviction.

"Yes. Remind Julian that he belongs to you," Asher replied; boosting his best friend's ego more.

Connor turned his head back to Asher. "Who said anything about Julian?" He asked confusingly. "I'm talking about my husband," he said walking away from a stunned Asher.

Asher was glued to his position; mouth agape. That was the first-time Connor acknowledged Oliver as his husband. "Oh shit!" he said to himself because he gave advice to Connor when he thought he was jealous because of Julian, and not Oliver.

"You are one hell of a leech, Oliver," he accusingly appraised him. He thought about running for Connor and stopping him, but he thought otherwise. He remembered the hardened glint which he saw in his best friend's eyes; it was pure possession. No one could stop Connor from doing what he wanted. "Well played Hampton. You already got him wrapped around your little finger," he said loudly and braced himself for the following weeks to come. He was sure it would not end up good for any of them.

Oliver was happily humming in his breath as he continued cooking. He was making baked chicken Parmesan for dinner, one of his greatest creations. He really hoped that Connor would enjoy his food. The main course and side dish were already finished, the only task left was for the white sauce to finish. He grinned as he stirred the sauce still thinking about Connor possible reaction. Then he suddenly felt incredible pain in his stomach.

"Arghh!..." Oliver shouted in pain. Laurel had already told him that cramps for males were worse than females because their body's reproductive function were more endowed than men. "Arghh!" he shouted again and rushed to his bedroom to get the pills Laurel had given him. He swallowed the pills and lay in his bed, suddenly tired of the work he had been doing. 'Need rest. Need sleep' was his last thought before falling asleep.

Oliver didn't know how long he was asleep, but he was suddenly awoken by the beeping sound that came outside his room. He instantly stood up and opened his door. He was greeted by a black smoke and burnt odor filtering through the whole apartment. Assured that the small fire he had caused was detected and the kitchen sprinklers had already been turned on, he opened up all the windows around the apartment to disperse the sickening smell. He didn't go to the kitchen to see the mess he had made, but he could still hear the droplets of waters from there.

Oliver was scared. No, he was terrified. Flashbacks of the fire in his old house had suddenly occupied his mind; the fire that causes his dad's death. He dropped to his knees, and started crying loudly. "Daddy! Daddy!" he cried loudly. It was still clear in his mind, his mom was trapped on the other side of the house, telling him to run, to get away from the fire. "Daddy. Don't go." he wailed.

Oliver needed someone; he needed something to ground him. He needed his mom. "Mom…" he sobbed as he pulled the phone from his back pocket, attempting to call for his mother.

Oliver was just about to dial his phone when it rang in his hand, showing that Thomas was calling. He accepted the call and heard Thomas's voice on the other line.

"Happy birth—" Thomas didn't finish his greeting when he heard Oliver cry loudly into the phone.

"A… Thomas… fi… fire…" Thomas slurred. His whole body was still shaking from the memory of the trauma. "Scared."

"Shit!" Oliver heard horns and screeching tires from the other line. "Are you okay? Oliver, where are you?" Thomas asked anxiously.

"Ho… home…" Oliver sobbed.

"I'll be there. Don't hang up. Talk to me." Thomas cooed, anxious about Oliver's state. He simultaneously talked to Oliver on the phone while pleading with the cab driver to drive faster. Within minutes he was already rushing towards the apartment's door; grateful that he had already asked Oliver's address beforehand because he couldn't get any viable information with Oliver's current condition.

"Ollie, open the door. I'm here… I'm here now… shhh…" Thomas said. Oliver cried loudly on the other end, but Thomas he was relieved when he heard feet padding on the tiled floor.

The door was open widely and Oliver came rushing towards Thomas, gripping his best friend's shirt tightly as he cried loudly in his arms, face buried in his chest. "Scared… so scared…" Oliver cried.

"It's okay… Shhh… it's okay…" Thomas rubbed both of his hands onto Oliver's back, and went inside the apartment. The apartment was fortunately still in one piece except for the kitchen. He peeked over Oliver's shoulder and saw that the whole kitchen was wet and the floor was covered with water. The rest of the apartment was clean, though a burnt odor still lingered in the air. He ignored it in favor of helping Oliver recover from his trance.

"No… baby… It's okay… I'm here, you're safe now, daddy is in a better place." Thomas cooed Oliver like he was a toddler. He sat on the couch and let Oliver straddled his lap.

Oliver's face was buried in his shoulder, arms tightly looped around his neck. The position was entirely awkward and uncomfortable, but Thomas let it be and continued murmuring assuring words to Oliver. "It's okay, baby. You're okay."

Thomas cupped Oliver's back neck with his middle and thumb finger; trying to find the pressure point that will help Oliver relax.

Connor was in his own trance when he left the office. The smirk on his face never left him as he trudged to his apartment building. He was still grinning when he inserted his key in his door and unlocked it. He was still confident when he opened it and smelled the burnt food. 'My hubby had a little accident, I see.'

Connor's smile instantly vanished, eyes grew dark, and his hands were curled to a fist when he saw a horrifying scene in front of him. His husband was curled up in another man's lap. Connor's blood was boiling as he slammed his briefcase into the wall opposite him causing the stranger to face him.

"Get away from my husband!" Connor shouted on the top of his lungs as he marched towards living room.

Need to cut it, next scene on the next chapter.

OMG! This is the longest chapter I have written.

I really tried inserting your reviews from one chapter to the next, so that it'll give you more clarifications if there are confusing scenes.

Thank you for the reviews, I really thought I suck at writing, so I just keep on giving authors my prompts, but your reviews have encouraged me to write from my own prompts…

Title Reference: Shrek – Connor being the jealous of Oliver and Thomas's relationship. Green monster is the idiom for jealous. Ergo, Shrek.

Story Outline:

-Oliver attending Yoga with Thomas instead of Connor(deleted)

-Robbery Scene (changed to fire accident)

Scenes Included:

-Connor didn't know Oliver's birthday

Story Reference:

- Connor's addiction to suits

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