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writeforself · 5 years

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Lights out

Connor x Reader

A/N: Turned out it’s not a pure fluff.

It is an ideal evening. Cuddling on the sofa with Connor in a dim room illuminated by the yellow fairy lights; watching horror movie, picking out every illogical scenes to laugh at it. Connor do the picking and you do the laughing.

It’s ideal, until suddenly, the lights go off. The entire room goes dark when you hear a sharp electric noise coming out from the TV. The only light source left is the blue circle glowing beside you. Yet it does not give you any comfort, for you are afraid of dark. Your heartbeats raise as your vision falls into darkness. The helpless moment of light converting into darkness has never gained your fondness. Even if after a while, when your eyes gradually become able to recognize those vague shapes of the objects in front of you, you still hate it.

Connor catches the fear from you. The quivers of your muscles are sending distress signal to him. Yet perhaps he still immerses himself in the earlier mood, the words coming out from his mouth are far from comfort.

“Are you scared?”

You answer with a nod, and bury yourself further into his embrace, listening to the pump beating undisturbedly inside his chest. It gives you comfort, but his tone doesn’t sound right.

“I find it strange,” He continues after the awkward pause. Blue light dancing in his temple, yet it somehow irritates you in the smallest way. “That people would fear for the dark, especially at their own place.”

There he goes. You roll your eyes in the dark, hoping the light can come back soon so you can laugh together at the horror movie and forget all about this.

Fear of darkness. No, it’s not the darkness that ones fear, it is the wild imagination ones have that strike terror to their feeble mind. But you are too tired to have this argument with him, you just want to lay cozily in the warmth, surrounded by the tender lights, in this chilly night.

“In the wild it makes sense, because everything is unpredictable. But at home, it isn’t.”

Without being able to observe his expression, you could see it in your mind. Genuine confusion. Those pretty brown eyes of his must be glimmering with curiosity right now.

“Don’t you have fears?”

You lay yourself back on the sofa. Finally your eyes have adjusted themselves to the darkness. You cannot see things clear, but with the dim cold light glittering around his messy hair, you are able perceive the vague shape of his, and his face, slightly twitching in response of your question.

“I don’t. I am a machine after all.” “Damn it Connor.” You sigh and throw yourself onto him again. This insecurity of his would drive you crazy sometimes. “You are Connor, the Connor. Not just any RK 800.”

You place your forehead against his. Breathing in the cold air and the synthetic breath of his. In your mind flies through the scene of goddess Athena breathing life into the first human. Life was given, and the first emotion was fear. Frightened with the notion of reality. You can’t help but wonder if they felt the same. Brought into the world terrified, yet unaware of the sensation.

“You are the Connor sent by Cyberlife, and eventually fell for me.” You say with a proud smile on your face. When the frown upon his face breaks you both chuckle, doubts melt into delightful atmosphere.

Yet it is still dark. Just as you start to wonder the reason of the black out, you caught a flash of yellow light with your observant eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Looking at him with concern, you take his hand in yours. “I just thought of something,” His lips are trembling, you just know it. “I think it’s fear.”

An uncanny silence falls into the room, as if he is demanding an answer. The yellow light returns and circles rapidly, blinding your eyes with anxiety.

“Tell me Connor,” You brush your fingers across his hair, gently situation one hand behind his neck, trying to provide assurance. “I will help you with it…” You think for a second and chuckle.” I mean, I can’t help you solve it, but at least you might feel better sharing it.”

“When I was solving my first case…” He pauses. Round and round the yellow circle goes, yet each circle slower after every passing moment. “I had an accident. Since then I dislike standing at the edge of the building.”

His lays his head softly on your shoulder, quite unusual, not that you are complaining. You can’t imagine what horrible accident he must had been through to be afraid of height. “Fear of height huh…” You rest your head against his, pondering. Staring at the yellow glow reflecting on the dark screen of the television.

The bothering perplexity which he’s experiencing is not hard to understand, for you are perfectly acquainted with such emotion. Knowing that no simple answer could satisfy his doubts, you try to think of something he might be able to understand, or simply relate. Any anecdote would be fine.

“Hey listen… You know that human dreams right?” “Yes, the state human experiences when one’s brain works tirelessly during sleep.” The detailed answer from him brings curve upon your lips.

“Well, sometimes fears come true in our dream,” You continue, “and sometimes we dream of falling from a high place, our feet would kick in the air in real life. And that somehow brings us back from falling.”

You remember the countless times that you’re saved from that fear by the kick. Between the silence the lights come back; the fairy lights on the wall start twinkling. You notice the blue has returned. He stares blankly at the black TV screen with his shimmering eyes. The LED light on his temple blink with the same rhythm of the fairy lights, it’s almost like the heartbeats of his resonating with the whole space.

“Anyway,” Grasping his hand, you proceed with gentle whisper. “I’d like to think that, it’s like the kick that birds do when they leave the ground, like a momentum to help you get away.” “That doesn’t make any sense.” He replies, but with a chuckle. “But it’s nice to think that way.”

He reaches out to turn the TV back on. The movie return to where it paused, the protagonist is about to fall from the cliff.

“It would be nicer if we can have something to help us when we fall.” He adds, pressing play for the movie to continue. The horrendous howl of the protagonist doesn’t bother you at all.

“Like a parachute?” You ask. “I was thinking about something like wings.” Into the abyss the protagonist falls.

Everyone has the dream to fly. As you are thinking of all those portrays of people having wings, you can’t help but think of the little possibility for human to actually have wings. Then you think of Connor, androids, as some sort of new species, they have so many possibilities.

“Maybe someday you would have wings. You giggle. “Why not?” A smirk creeps onto his lips. “There’s always a chance for something unlikely to happen.”

#dbh connor x reader #connor x reader #dbh connor #DBH #detroit become human

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silenceindetroit · 6 years

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The Meaning of Silence - Part 5

“... Everyone's been so kind. It's been such a relief that I find it hard to really relax. I keep worrying that I need to be on guard in case something happens.”

“Can't say it's been so peaceful over here. We're making progress, but it's slow. It's good you made it out when you did—a lot of androids are still in limbo because no one knows how to start going about citizenships. Connor's been in back-and-forth custody with Cyberlife for months.”

“Seriously, still? There's nothing that can be done?”

“They've been fighting tooth and nail.”

“I can't imagine what that kind of stress is doing to him... how is he?”

Markus looked across the empty room to the window, a grey-green shirt in his hands. The darkness outside was aglow with an ambient light, reflected off the clouds. “I think he tries to seem like he's fine.” He pulled it over his head. “But it gets to him. There's a lot he doesn't talk about.” He smoothed out the front and began to tuck it into his jeans. “I worry about him, Kara.”

“I know. The only thing you can do is let him know you're there for him.”

He nodded before he remembered she couldn't see him. “We're going out tonight. He should be here in about five minutes.”

“I won't keep you too much longer, then.”

He walked over to the closet in the corner and scanned the hangers.“How's Alice?”

“She's doing well.” There was a pause. “I don't know if I've ever seen her this happy. She loves Luther to death. And some of the Jerrys come to visit when they can. Hang on, wait...” He heard a muffled sound in the background. “She wants to say hi.”

“Hi, Markus!” a higher voice echoed through his head, a hint more static-filled than Kara's.

He grinned as he pulled his black pea coat—the thin kind designed for fashion rather than warmth—from the closet and slid it onto his shoulders. “Hi, Alice. How's Canada treating you?”

“Good. I like Rose's family a lot. I drew a picture of you and Connor visiting us.”

“Yeah? I'd love to see it.”

“Kara, can you send it to him later?”

There was another pause as the muffled sound returned. “She went to the other room to go find it,” Kara told him.

“Not to change back to the previous subject too soon, but what about you? How are you doing?” He nearly forgot to grab the thin box, no bigger than a wallet, that lay on the desk.

“It's been... odd. To have people and androids I can call family to settle in with every night. I never realized how much it was something I needed.” She was quiet for a minute. “We love you, Markus. I love you. You're all part of our family, too. If you ever need anything don't be afraid to let us know. ”

His eyes softened. He slid the box into his pocket. “I love you all, too. I have to go, though. Connor just sent me a message that he's outside. I'll talk to you next week, same time?”

“Sure. Tell him we said hi.”

“I will.” There was a quiet click as the call died.

Markus made his way downstairs to the front door, with a pause in front of the hallway mirror, going through the checklist in his mind one last time. Everything was good to go.

He quickened his pace to the foyer and tried to look calm when he opened the door. It didn't last when Connor smiled at him, his outline flooded by the headlights of a car. He had on a leather jacket Markus hadn't seen him in before. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“You ready?”

“As I'll ever be.”

Markus stepped out to join him on the porch and locked the door behind himself. The headlights turned as the car started a slow circle, the passenger window rolled down, the driver leaning over.

Markus raised his hand in greeting. “Hey, Hank.”

“Have fun, you two. Be safe.” He pointed a finger at Markus. “Get him back before sunrise, yeah?”

Markus grinned. “No promises.” Hank's chuckle could be heard over the idling of the engine. “He's such... a dad,” he commented as they watched the car drive away. He turned back to Connor. “The jacket suits you.”

Connor looked down at himself and picked a piece of stray lint off his black t-shirt. “Hank told me to wear it.”

“Yeah?” Markus reached for Connor's hand and tucked them together into the back pocket of his jeans. He thought he saw Connor's back grow a little straighter, a faint whir coming from his direction. He flicked over a tab in his head. “Our ride is two minutes away.”

The car pulled up into the same spot Hank had been, its doors sliding open when it came to a stop. They walked up to the passenger's side. Markus glanced in. “Good, no driver.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “Why g—” He didn't get to finish the question before he was cut off by Markus' mouth on his, quick and hard. It was over before he could register what had happened. He stared in surprise as the other android pulled away.

“That's why,” Markus said, a sly smile on his face. “Now come on, get in.”

The estimated ride time was twenty-three minutes. The main console screen asked them to close their doors before it set itself back in gear, kicking itself off down the driveway, towards the front gate. “How are you feeling about tonight?” Markus asked. “The first night of its kind where it's for both humans and androids.”

Connor's hands were pressed together in his lap. “I just don't want people recognizing us all night,” he admitted.

Markus leaned over and placed a hand on top of his thigh. “I know. But it'll be pretty dark inside, and it's going to be crowded, being a club and all. I think we'll be okay.” He raised an eyebrow. “Besides, we can always sneak away if we want.”

Connor raised an eyebrow back. “Is that a promise?” Markus grinned.

The drive was shorter than their time estimation had told them. The car slowed into a queued line down the street with five minutes to spare, offering to let them out or remain passengers to the front. “Let's just get off here,” Markus told him. “I got a hookup for us to go in through the back.”

Connor pulled at his door handle and climbed out, waiting on the sidewalk until Markus joined him. The thumping bass of the club's music was audible down the street. “How'd you manage that?” he asked as they began to walk towards it together. He glanced around at the people they passed. A few LED lights were among them.

“You have a way of being able to go about things when people know your name,” Markus replied. He reached for Connor's hand and clasped it tight.

They followed the line of people waiting down the block and slipped into the back alley. Connor followed as he was led to a barred door. He glanced up while Markus knocked; a pride flag billowed slightly in the breeze, strung up above their heads.

A tall android with buzzed hair stood on the other side of the door when it opened. “We've been expecting you, Markus. Welcome to the Lounge.” He stood aside, eyeing them as they stepped through the threshold. He gave a wink when he caught Connor staring. Connor snapped his gaze forward and stepped a little closer to Markus, fans whirring. A low chuckle came from behind him.

The music grew louder as they navigated their way to the main part of the club. Much louder. Connor turned down his auditory processors several notches.

We don't need to call it love, we just need a human touch

The strobe lights cast a neon haze over the room from far above, changing color every so many seconds. Humans and androids alike filled the floor. The middle of the room was the most tightly-packed, but the hoards pressed up against the bar nearly rivaled it. It's a big crowd, he commented to Markus in his head.

It's a big night, Markus replied. He looked around, trying to see through the crowds. Where do you want to go?

Connor scanned the room for a moment before pointing to a spot less populated, near the wall. Over there?

The song was changing by the time they reached it, the bass softening enough to hear the instrumental transition. Markus turned to him and pulled his hand out of Connor's hold, only to offer it forward again.

Connor, he said, will you dance with me? An echo of his own actions from the night in the rooftop garden.

Connor tried in vain to keep the smile from his face. He grabbed the other android's wrist in reply and tugged him close.

They let the remixed beat of the music carry their motions, the bodies around them a sea that moved to its own interpretations and rhythms. Connor had never danced this way before. Not that androids had reason to dance often. But this wasn't where you came to do it with reason or technical sense. This was where you danced to whatever you felt in the moment.

And he couldn't deny the certain something he was feeling as he watched Markus.

Faces in the crowd drifted towards them every so often from song to song; whether out of recognition or just plain interest, he couldn't tell. A few gazes lingered on Markus with a look he wasn't sure he liked; a few more on him. He took a step to close the space between them a little.

There's a guy that's had his eyes on you for the last ten minutes, Markus commented with a raised eyebrow, as if reading his thoughts.

Where?

Behind you, to your left. Connor's fans whirred when Markus put a hand on his waist almost possessively. He let his own hand reach up and clutch the back of Markus' neck as he stole a glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, there were eyes on him, watching not ten feet away. The stranger gave the two of them a suggestive look when their gazes met, before turning back around to his group of friends.

I don't think he was watching just me, Connor corrected. He saw Markus chuckle.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold it. Happy Pride Night motherfuckers,” a deep, feminine voice interrupted over the speakers as the song ended. A roar rose around them. “Your friendly DJ here wanting to kindly remind you that song suggestions are open and can be submitted up at the bar. Please do not, I repeat do not come to the DJ table, we won't be able to fuckin' hear you cause y'all are crazy tonight.” The cheers surged again. “Look for my good friend Bernie over near the register in the corner, he'll help you out—” Connor was barely listening. Markus' hand was still on his waist, drawing him closer. “Tonight really is a wonderful night about celebrating coming together, as brothers and sisters, or whatever the hell you want to call it. We might not all bleed the same color, but I think we can all agree that we all deserve love, and we all deserve to be free to love whoever the fuck we want.” The club went wild. “Without further ado, y'all better be ready for some blasts from the past.” The beat kicked back up to full volume, eliciting shouts from those who recognized the chord progression.

Yeah I'd rather be a lover than a fighter, cause all my life I've been fighting

Connor pulled until their foreheads bumped together. Something had stirred deep inside of him at the DJ's words. He closed his eyes as the synthetic skin withdrew from Markus' left hand and he ran it up the back of Connor's neck, into his hair.

And I never had someone to call my own, I'm so used to sharing

The strobe lights above began to blink faster in sync to the buildup of the beat. Voices from across the floor swelled to sing along, the emphasis on waiting for the bass to drop building.

But I'm at one with the silence

I found peace in your violence

Can't tell me there's no point in trying

He dared to let his eyelids flutter open. Markus' gaze was half-lidded, staring down at his lips from where their foreheads connected. A pink strobe had cast its light over them, catching off the edges of his face, defining its details. He looked so terribly beautiful.

Connor couldn't help himself. He tugged at the collar of Markus' coat and pressed their mouths together gently.

I'm at one

And I've been silent for so long

The beat dropped hard, the energy of the club surging with it. Neither of them paid notice.

His processors were dizzy by the time the song reached its end. Markus pulled away from the slow kissing until their eyes could meet. I think I want to show you what my surprise is now, he said.

Electricity surged through Connor's circuits. Okay.

He let himself be led into the crowd, towards the back way they had come through when they'd arrived. The song playing melted into a new one, the bass slowing into a different tempo. “I need a drink, whiskey ain't my thing, but shit is all good.” His shoulders brushed against several people around them as they navigated the masses. He gripped Markus' hand a little tighter.

Markus took him to the back wall and down a hallway that led to a secondary bathroom. Connor's brow furrowed in confusion, until Markus turned to a different door on their right and swiped his hand over a panel below the doorknob. A red light blinked and turned green.

He let himself be pulled inside the empty room. The muted lights matched the hues of the ones on the main floor. But here there were wall-length couches lined around the room, with a round, backless cushion couch in the middle, big enough for half a dozen people to sit around the edge. The noise of the club grew muffled as Markus shut the door and locked it behind them.

“How'd you even get this?” he asked. He slid his jacket off and sat down on the backless couch.

“I told you, sometimes there's perks to people knowing your name.”

Connor glanced around again. “So, what's the surprise?”

Markus gave him a smile. “You'll see. Just be a little prepared.” He turned to the side and reached into his pocket, withdrawing the thin box he'd slipped in back at the house. Connor's eyes were on his hands, brow raised in curiosity. Markus slid the top off and reached two fingers inside. He withdrew... Connor wasn't sure what. It looked filmy, almost like silk, and in the shape of an oval with the middle missing. He blinked when Markus raised it to his lips and pressed down.

“I don't get it,” he said when the other android came over. The film blended in surprisingly well to the edges of his mouth. Connor wouldn't have even known it was there if not for the handful of shades darker that it made Markus' lips.

“You will,” Markus promised. “Tilt your head back.”

He did as he was asked. His heart jumped when Markus leaned over him, one hand on his thigh, the other on his shoulder, and planted a slow kiss against his neck.

His wiring almost sung at the contact, exploding, blooming with... it was some sort of a tingling... that felt, well, good.

...It felt good?

It felt good.

Connor yanked his head back on instinct, jamming his hand against Markus' neck to hold him away. “What the fuck!” he sputtered. He stared up with wide eyes. “What is that?”

Markus sat down beside him. “A new technology that's going to be put out on the market in a few months,” he explained. He ran a finger over his lips. “It's a netting that consists of micro magnets. They interact with android wiring in a way that mimics the human nervous system, by sending messages up here,” he tapped a finger against his temple, “that get translated as physical touch.”

Connor's mouth hung open.

“Pretty impressive, isn't it?”

“That's incredible. How...?”

“There's a lot of mathematic and scientific coding that went into it. I don't understand it all myself. But it's designed by androids, specifically for android use.”

Connor leaned forward and ran his thumb slowly over Markus' bottom lip. The tingling sensation returned, sending a delicious jolt up his arm. “How does it feel when you're wearing it?” he asked.

“A little odd. But there's a tab that can plug in so your brain writes it off when you're wearing it. In case it gets too intense after a while.” He lifted the box. “There's also ones that go over your hands.”

Connor shook his head in disbelief. “Only you, Markus.”

Markus' brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“It's like you're on a level miles above the rest of us.” Connor ran his thumb along the length of Markus' jaw, before tilting his chin with a finger and pressing their lips together. The effect was immediate, spreading across Connor's mouth, echoing up his cheek. It was like nothing he'd ever been able to comprehend before. It felt wonderful.

His gaze flickered down to the box. “You said there's ones for your hands?”

Markus smirked. “Eager, are we?”

“If someone's nice enough to give you a sample of a product, you ought to test it out, right?” he countered, his internal fans whirring.

Markus gave a solemn nod despite the teasing look in his eyes. “You're absolutely right.”

The fascination on his face was more than evident as Connor watched Markus take out the twin films from the box and set one carefully onto his hand, smoothing it over each finger with his opposite thumb until it clung like a second skin. A small tab sunk beneath the synthetic skin at the base of his wrist. “You know,” he said as he repeated the process on his other hand, “you promised me when I showed you my surprise you would share that song with me.”

Realization flickered across Connor's face. “I did.” He looked away in embarrassment when Markus raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Right now?”

The other android grinned. “That was the deal.”

“How am I supposed to interface with you during this?”

Markus tilted his head to the side. “You could use the speakers in here.”

“No,” Connor groaned. He leaned back on one hand, the other pressed to his eyes.

Markus let out a bark of laughter. “Why so flustered all of a sudden? It's just us.”

“I'm not flustered,” Connor protested. His core tensed when he felt for the first time in his life a finger draw a line over his shirt, from his stomach to his chest. His wires were all but singing when it stopped to trace the outline of his heart.

“Are you sure?”

His electric circuits hiccuped when Markus tugged at the bottom of his shirt. Connor dared to glance up; eyes were on his, drinking him in.

“You're so absolutely beautiful,” Markus murmured.

And then their lips met, his body leaning over Connor's, the hand that had been tugging at his shirt finding its way to the bare skin underneath.

It was the most unbearably wonderful sensation, to feel both Markus' lips on his own and his hand carressing Connor's stomach, fingers spread wide. His back straightened as Markus moved from his mouth to the nook just below his jaw, the feeling growing more intense.

Markus pulled away an inch. “Sorry, I forgot to warn you. Humans have specific places with more nerve endings scattered across their bodies. But for androids that means where there's more wiring—from the neck up—the more you'll feel it.” There was a pause. “You good?”

Connor latched his hand around the back of the other android's head. “More than good.” He nearly buckled as he felt Markus' mouth return, stretching into a smile against his neck.

God, he was feeling. It was such an insane thought.

He liked it.

A noise rose from the back of his throat when his collar bone was trailed over, and the hand on his stomach became two that found their way up and over his ribcage. “Markus,” he stammered, “slow down.”

“Sorry. You're just driving me crazy with those noises.”

“Bad crazy or good?”

“Good.” Markus spread his hands back down over Connor's sides, eliciting the sound from the back of his throat again. “Definitely good.”

Connor closed his eyes. His new senses were unbelievably heightened. He was almost giddy off the sensations his brain was registering.

There was a pause just as he felt a kiss making its way back up his neck. “Ah, shit.” Markus pushed himself up until they were face-to-face. Even in the dimmed light of the room, the hint of blue that colored Connor's face was evident. “That's our two-minute warning.”

Connor blinked. They couldn't have been in here more than ten minutes. “What...?”

“There's a party renting out this room at eleven.” He placed an apologetic kiss on Connor's cheek. “We have to head back out.”

“Right now...? I haven't even gotten to try them yet.”

Markus gave a crooked smile and ran his thumb over the cleft in Connor's chin. “It'll give you something to look forward to when we're back home.”

Connor grimaced back. “You're a tease,” he muttered as he turned to grab his jacket. A yelp of surprise escaped him when a finger prodded his hip. He whirled back around and gave Markus' shoulder a push. “Don't do it without warning.”

Markus laughed and stood. “Come on,” he said, offering his hands to help Connor up.

The group waiting for the room was already outside the door when they emerged, their hands clasped tightly as they navigated their way out to the club floor, the films placed back in their box and tucked in Markus' pocket. The DJ had stepped back from the remixes and started on the suggested songs list, intervening only for the transitions between each to be smooth. “Yeah if you change your mind you know where to find me, cause I don't save your reputation,” the song rang out from the speakers.

Do you want to go back to the spot we were before, or wander around a bit? Markus asked. When there was no response he slowed to look behind him. Connor?

Connor's eyes were frozen on another android several feet away, her gaze locked with his. Neither of them were relenting. Do you know her? Markus asked, but his question went unheard.

It was only when she gave Connor a solemn nod and turned back to the other android she was with—the same model as her, but her hair blue and long rather than cropped dirty blonde—that the spell was broken, and Connor blinked a handful of times.

Connor, Markus repeated.

What?

You alright? Who is that?

I'm fine. His focus lingered on them, watching them dance together, before he turned away and stepped back towards Markus. Just someone I met once.

They walked around until they found an open space on the floor to claim. Connor held tight to Markus' hand as he let himself be picked up by the beat of the new song coming on.

Baby don't make me spell it out for ya, all of the feelings that I've got for ya

Markus raised a playful eyebrow at him. “Can't be explained, but I can try for ya,” he mouthed along with the words to Connor. He grinned when it elicited a smile from the other android. “Yeah baby don't make me spell it out for ya.” Something whirred a little faster in his chest as he stared into the abyss of Connor's brown eyes. He had the sudden feeling he knew what his next painting was going to be of.

They made it almost another two songs before they began to drift together again. Connor pulled at his hand, draping his arms over Markus' shoulders when he was close enough. Markus hooked his index fingers through the two front belt loops of Connor's jeans. He closed his eyes and let his chin dip forward until their foreheads touched.

Hey, Connor said.

Yeah?

Thanks for bringing me out.

Markus' smile was gentle as he placed a kiss between Connor's eyes. Happy Pride Night.

#dbh #detroit become human #the meaning of silence #dbh connor #dbh markus #rk800 #rk200 #rk1000 #rk1k #connor x markus #connor rk800 #markus rk200 #silence in detroit

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save-the-cronch · 7 years

Text

Sincerely Me

Welcome to my fic that is using a title that is overused! Anyways, this is based off a set of one-shots I posted, originally, on my other account.

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

Evan kept his head down as he walked to the school’s computer lab. He had to quickly finish his ‘self-help’ letter before his mom picked him up for his therapy session with Dr. Sherman. Slowly, Evan pushed open the door to the lab and shuffled over to a computer on the right side. Silently, he logged into the computer, found the google chrome search logo, clicked on it, and signed onto his google drive account. He moved the cursor over to the google doc containing his letter. After he clicked on it, he watched as a new paged popped up, and his letter loaded onto the screen. Evan quickly read over the letter, and noticed that he left off with:

Maybe if I could just talk to her. Maybe, nothing would be different at all.

He silent thought for a second, tapping his fingers on the table. Eventually, he began to type out the last part.

I wish everything was different. I wish I was a part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone. I mean, let’s face it, would anyone even notice if I just disappeared tomorrow?

He stopped typing briefly. Evan knows this isn’t what his therapist had in mind for him to write. These letters are supposed to say the good things in life, but when there aren’t any good things, why make it up? Why not just tell the damn truth? No one would even care anyways.

Sincerely, your best and dearest friend, me.

Suddenly, his phone began to ring. Evan fumbled with it in his pocket. He quickly checked the caller ID and was relieved to see it was his mom calling him.

“H-hello?” He asked. Evan has always hated phone calls, can't stand them. Even though it was just his mom calling, he still stumbled on his words.

“Evan, I’m not going to be able to bring you to your appointment. They needed extra help at the hospital and I was the only one on duty. Also right afterward I’m going to class, there are leftovers in the fridge for dinner.” Heidi Hansen rushed her words as if she really needs to get back to work. Which, Evan assumed, she probably does.

God, Evan thought, I'm such a burden, she wouldn't need to work so hard if I wasn't around. I have so many problems. She has to spend too much money on my pills and therapy, I hate it.

"O-okay, yeah, I’ll ea-t that.” Even while he says this, Evan knows he won’t.

“Did you finish your letter sweetie?" Evan knows that all his mom wants is for him to get better. However, he also knows that she knows she'd have a better life without him.

“Yeah, I just pr-printed it n-ow.” He says, clicking on the little printer button on the top right of the screen.

“That’s fantastic sweetie. I’ve gotta go now, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Totally fantastic. Except for the fact that his letter basically states that he wants to just disappear and never come back.

Evan nods his head but then realizes she probably couldn’t even see him. Stupid. “Okay, love you.”

“Love you too honey.” And with that, she hangs up the phone.

Evan sighs once again, and then, he stands up to go and grab his letter. Before he can even take a step, Connor Murphy appears in front of him. Oh great. Evan really hopes he's still not mad about this morning. Connor had thought that Evan laughed at him, and so he shoved him to the ground. However, what had really happened was that Evan didn't laugh at him, He would never laugh at him. He would never laugh at anyone really. Evan was just nervous, and so he let out a nervous chuckle. Because of this, Evam have a mental freak out moment. He still didn’t know if Connor’s here to yell at him some more or what but he was absolutely terrified.

“Evan? Right?” Connor asks, looking Evan up and down, then into his eyes. Evan shivered slightly and nodded. Evan didn't shiver because Connor was scary, he's actually really pretty. Like his sister, Zoe. Wait, not the time Evan. Shut up. Evan looked back at him, and he noticed something. Connor seemed like he was trying to tell Evan something, but then seems to think better if it and instead says, “How’d you break your arm?”

It was an easy question to answer, Evan had practiced the answer many times, but he still stuttered.

“Oh, uh, I f-fell. Out of a tr-tree.” Evan stuttered out, picking at the hem of his shirt. Evan hates lying, but he didn't want people to see how broken he really was.

“Well, that’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Oh my god!” He laughs out.

Oh, how wonderful. Evan thinks. Now I'm an even bigger loser.

Evan nodded, “Yeah, uh, yeah.”

Connor glances at Evan’s cast, and he seems to notice no one has signed it.

Shit, now I not just a loser, but a friendless loser. Evan doesn’t know how this could get any worse.

“No one’s signed your cast.” Connor points out as if Evan hadn’t already realized no one liked him.

“Yeah, uh, I kn-know.” Evan just wishes he could stop stuttering, dammit!

“I’ll sign it.” Connor offers, probably pitying Evan. Defiantly pitying him. Most people did.

“Oh, you, you don’t have to.” Evan mentally hits himself, what is he doing? He needs his mom to think he actually talked to people. Why is he telling him no?

Connor ignores him and He holds out a hand, expecting a sharpie. Thank God he's persistent.

Evan nods his head and then stuffed his hand into his pocket. He pulled out the unused sharpie and handed it to the taller boy.

He grips Evan’s hand and tugs it towards him. “Ow,” Evan mumbled.

“Sorry,” Connor seemed to have pushed it out. As if he's not used to saying sorry. Connor quickly scrawls out his name, filling up half of the blonds cast with it.

“Oh, thanks,” Evan said, with a kind of sarcastic, sort of thankful, and a bit of wanting to get the hell out of there asap tone of voice. Thankfully though, Connor doesn’t seem to notice and smiles at the shorter boy. However, it’s more of a grimace. He then takes a piece of paper from his bag and lifts it up.

“Is this yours? I saw it at the printer. ‘Dear Evan Hansen,’ You're last name is Hansen, right?”

“Uh, yeah that’s mine, um, th-thanks.” Evan reached to take it, but Connor pulls back.

“Because there’s Zoe? What the hell,” He whispers this, seemingly confused, and Evan begins to freak out. Once again.

“C-connor, please give that ba-back.”

“You did this on purpose!” Connor’s yelling now, Evan hopes he can maybe calm him down?

“What?” Very good Evan, ask a fucking question. This is super helpful.

“Yeah, you saw I was the only other person in here so you printed this wanting me to see it.” Evan knows that Connor is totally misunderstanding the situation. Evan also knows that he has no clue on how to deal with this.

“No, I-”

“You were hoping I’d freak out right? So you can tell everyone what a fucking freak I am?”

“No, please-”

“Well FUCK YOU!” The long-haired boy pushed past Evan and runs out of the computer lab. All Evan can do is stare at him as he runs, forgetting that he still has his letter.

“You what?” Jared asks from the other side of the phone, clearly enjoying the situation that Evan had gotten himself into.

“I-I printed my letter out at school and Co-connor saw it. He thought I wanted t-to get him ma-mad! He saw that I me-mentioned Zoe, and-”

“Wait, so he read some crazy sex letter you wrote about his sister? That’s messed up.” Evan starts to really hope that Jared stops laughing soon.

“It wasn’t a sex le-letter Jared! It’s for my therapy-therapist.” Evan is trying to explain this the best he can, but Jared doesn't like to listen. He never listens.

“You write sex letters to your therapist? That's kinky.”

“JARED!”

“Whatever man, but why are you telling me this?” Evan can imagine that Jared is probably lying upside down on his bed, playing video games. He's definitely not paying attention to their conversation at all.

“Because you’re my cl-only family fr-friend.” That's all they’ll ever be because Jared knows that Evan is too much of a weirdo.

“Yeah, okay, I gotta go dude. Good luck with that sex letter!”

“IT’S NOT A-” Before Evan can finish, Jared hangs up the phone. Evan groans, tossing his own phone onto his bed.

How the hell is he supposed to convince Connor Murphy that that letter was meant to cause no harm.

Also, how is he supposed to get it back from him before he tells the whole school? And, once the school knows how will he live through the taunts? No, wait, forget the jokes. Connor is probably gonna kill him.

God Dammit.

Connor stared at the orange bottle in his hand as he sat on his bed. For once it was made, he wanted to feel productive for his last few hours alive. He also had a box filled with all the stuff he had taken from Zoe over the years placed on his desk. He has about an hour before Zoe gets home from jazz band practice, and his mom won’t be home for another two. Connor isn’t sure when his dad will be home, but it’ll probably be late, as usual.

Connor uncaps the bottle and empties all the pills into his open palm. With no more thought, he downs all the pills and lays back onto his bed, waiting for the effects to kick in.

Zoe Murphy usually considers herself a lucky girl. She’s lucky because she made jazz one as a freshman, and sits in the first chair. She’s lucky that she is smart enough to be in most senior classes. She’s lucky that Alana Beck actually considers her a friend. She’s lucky that her brother doesn’t follow through on his death threats.

Zoe Murphy is also lucky that she got out of jazz band earlier than usual. A lot usual. AT least, according to the doctors, she is. Is she had called the ambulance not even five minutes after she had, her brother would have had no chance of survival.

So yeah, Zoe Murphy is a lucky girl. Luck apparently just comes naturally to her, and even though her relationship with Connor has been torn to shreds years ago, she’s glad that she’s luckier than most. Really fucking glad.

“Yo, Evan, did you hear what happened to Murphy last night?” Those are the first words Evan hears out of Jared’s mouth on the second day of school. Evan shuts his locker and looks at his family friend. Jared is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, gripping the straps of his backpack.

“N-no, what happened to-to him?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but you know Calvin Ferrell? Well he lives across from the Murphy’s and he told Kelly Petie who told Kyle Gold who I overheard telling Kevin Lakes that an ambulance showed up at their house around five last night, and Calvin saw Zoe Murphy running out with paramedics pushing a stretcher with Connor laying on it out of the house and into the ambulance. Calvin doesn’t know what happened to him but Connor isn’t at school and neither is Zoe. So obviously it was something really big right? I mean why else would paramedics be there?” Jared is much too enthusiastic about this.

“J-jared! Why do yo-you seem so, so ex-excited? Wh-what if he di-died. That wo-would be te-terr-terrible!” Evan whisper yells.

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it, I mean so what? No one likes him anyway.”

“Jared th-that isn’t nice! You sh-shouldn’t say, say things like that!” Evan remembers how alone he felt this past summer, and knows that whatever Connor was feeling is probably ten times worse than what he feels. He hopes Connor isn’t dead, he decides that if, no when, Connor gets back to school, Evan will try his best to try and brighten the brown haired boy’s day.

“Whatever tree boy, I’m going to class.” Jared shrugged his shoulders and left Evan standing in the hallway by himself. Evan sighs. He knows Jared fakes a lot of how he acts. He just wishes Jared was like he was when they were younger, his actual friend.

Dear Connor Murphy,

I heard about what happened the other week and I want you to know I failed as well, over the summer. You’re not alone.\

Sincerely Me.

Connor stared dumbfounded at the letter in his hands. It was his second day back after being out of school for three weeks, and he had no idea as to why a letter had fallen out of his letter. He was even more confused when he realized the letter was addressed to him and not whoever owned the locker next to him. Then after reading the two sentenced note, he felt something inside him. It wasn’t happiness at being recognized, it was more like relief. Someone out there, though he had no idea who knew in some way how he felt. And who wouldn’t get the smallest spark of hope after realizing that?

Evan watched from around the Corner as Connor neatly folded up the letter and placed it in his hoodie pocket. Then he saw the brown haired boy give a small smile, and Evan couldn’t help but smile as well.

For the next month, Evan continues to write letters to Connor. He writes the letters on Monday and Wednesdays after his homework, then on Tuesday and Thursday mornings he shoves them through the cracks in Connor’s locker. Evan know’s that Connor doesn’t check his locker until after third period, so he knows that he won’t be caught.

Sometimes the letters contain personal information as Evan knows that Connor doesn’t know it’s him, so he’s not worried, for once, about being taunted. Sometimes they just include small things that happen over the week. Usually, the Tuesday letters are the long ones, informing Connor about Evan’s weekend, the Thursday ones usually remind Connor how great he is.

Evan’s noticed that Connor is usually happier on the letter days. He’s also noticed that Connor skips school a lot, but he’s always there on Tuesday and Thursday mornings.

Connor has gotten a total of six letters so far.

The second one was almost as short as the first, giving Connor one simple tip on calming down.

Dear Connor Murphy,

Counting down from ten is always a great strategy to calm down, in my experience at least. Also, my mom, she does it a lot, especially when my dad tries to contact us. He’s very inconsiderate when he does.

Sincerely, Me

Connor felt like punching this guy’s dad after reading it.

The third letter talked a lot about trees, as did the fifth letter. The fourth told Connor that the mystery guy has a crush on a girl in junior year. He wondered if Zoe knew the girl as the letter never mentioned her name. The sixth letter was longer than usual. It seemed as though Letter Guy, as Connor now calls him, was stressing about something and just couldn’t stop talking. It started out about a math test the kid had, then there was a paragraph on why trees are so important to the environment, then two sentences wondering if Connor liked trees as much as he did, and it ended with five sentences of the guy apologizing as to how long the letter was. Connor thought it was hilarious, and kind of adorable. He kept that letter on his bedside table.

After the next two letters come, and Connor finds himself wondering who the guy is, he realizes that he might actually sort of like him. But he tries to ignore it for two reasons. First, why would this guy like him back, especially since he already likes someone else? Second, Connor doesn’t even know who writes the letter, how can he like someone he doesn’t know. However, Connor does know the letter guy, very well from all the information he writes down. He just doesn’t know his name or what he looks like.

Evan sits behind Connor in math class, which Evan actually quite enjoys. Math is fourth period, which means Connor comes in right after reading Evan’s notes on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s. This also means that Evan gets to see the small smile on Connor’s face due to the letters that he receives.Evan always enjoys seeing that smile. It tells him that he was once again successful in making Connor happy. Evan knows that it isn’t a permanent fix, but he also knows that it works for at least an hour. And an hour is better than nothing in his opinion.

After Thanksgiving break, Evan realizes that he hasn’t thought, or written, about Zoe in a month. This really confuses him, how can he go from fawning over the guitar player to never even thinking about her? He isn’t entirely sure.

That is, at least, until the first Thursday of December and Evan catches himself staring at the older Murphy all of math class. At first, Evan tells himself that he was just making sure his letters were still making Connor happy. It wasn’t until Evan was in his room, trying to go to bed while still thinking about the long-haired boy that he shoots up, now fully awake.

“Fuck I like the school shooter.”

Which then leads to Evan actually slapping himself.

“Dammit Evan, stop listening to Jared.”

Evan continues to mutter to himself about the fact that he has just figured out that he is bi. However, he isn’t just bi, no, he’s really really bi for the kid he writes letters to, to make him feel better.

That’s when his mother, Heidi Hansen, Knocks on the door.

“Sweetie are you alright?” She asks, concerned that her son is mumbling to himself at eleven at night.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Evan shouts back, quickly laying back down.

That night Evan falls asleep with only the thought of Connor Murphy on his mind.

The next letter Connor received he was surprised to see that the mystery writer told him he wasn’t into the junior girl anymore. At that, Connor walked to his math class with a small spring in his step. He knows that the letter boy might not be into guys, but he doesn’t like the junior anymore, he has a slight chance now.

When he gets to math, the kid that sits behind him, Evan Hansen, already has a notebook out. Connor remembers in middle school when he had a small crush on the blond haired kid. He can’t help but hope that Evan was the mystery writer.

Connor spends all of math wondering what Evan’s hand in his would feel like.

When Connor walked into math, Evan couldn’t help but blush at Connor’s happy gait. Evan can’t help but hope that it’s because Evan doesn’t like Zoe anymore, and maybe Connor likes him back. But that’s insane, who would like the wallflower anyway?

Evan spends the rest of the class wondering what Connor’s hair would feel like with Evan’s fingers combing through it.

The week leading up to winter break, Evan can’t stop thinking about what he should get Connor for Christmas. Sure, Evan is Jewish and celebrates Hanukkah, he knows that Connor celebrates Christmas. He only knows this because he overheard Zoe asking Alana to come over on Christmas Eve, as Zoe’s parents apparently want to meet her.

Evan wasn’t sure on what to get Connor until he was at the store with Jared because apparently he needed knew flannel and his mom thought he was ditching Evan. Which, he usually does, but Mrs. Kleinman doesn’t need to know that. Evan had seen a couple black hoodies and remembered that Connor’s were all worn out and faded. Then as he was walking up to the cash register, money already in hand, he saw a bowl full of nail polish and quickly plucked out a black bottle. Connor usually as his nails painted, sure they were almost always chipped, but they were also always black. Black seemed to be his signature color.

Wednesday night, Evan wrapped the gift for Connor, taping his note to the present.

Connor Murphy didn’t go to bed until one am that night. Usually, he’s asleep by 12 on Mondays and Wednesdays, but this time he stayed up. He needed to get it perfect. Sure there was a chance that Mystery Writer didn’t celebrate Christmas, but that’s why Connor is signing the card Happy Holidays instead. It doesn’t need to be a Christmas gift. Just a thank you gift.

Thursday morning, when Evan went to put the gift outside Connor’s locker, he was surprised to see it propped open, and not shut like normal. Curiosity was digging at him, so Evan carefully opened the locker and was even more shocked to see a small wrapped item on the bottom of Connor’s locker. He picked it up, and then he noticed the card, which was addressed to him. Well not him exactly, but it did say To: My Mystery Writer and who else would Connor be calling a mystery writer?

Evan felt a small smile grow on his face as he placed the gift he got Connor on the bottom of his locker, and quickly put the one Connor got him in his bag. He then swiftly shut the locker and made his way to his first class.

After third period, when Connor got to his locker, he was glad to see that Mystery Writer took the gift, he was also happy to find out that he was left a gift as well.

Throughout math class, Evan couldn’t focus. He just stared at Connor’s head. Which probably wasn’t a good idea in hindsight as Finals is the week he gets back from spring break, and he really should be paying attention the review they’re doing. But at that moment, he really didn’t care.

The first thing Evan does when he gets home is putting the gift Connor got him under the small house plant he has on his desk. Even though he doesn’t do Christmas, maybe this one time he can pretend.

When his mom gets home and sees the gift on his desk, she asks where it came from.

“O-oh, well um. There’s this b-boy, C-connor Murphy, and earlier this year he wa-was in the hos-hospital? So, um, I decided to, uh, write him letters. I-I wanted to ma-make him feel good. So, uh, I gu-guess he got me-me a gift?”

“Oh honey, that’s so kind of you! I’m so glad you have another friend!”

Heidi was so excited to see the excitement in her son’s eyes as he talked about Connor.

Evan didn’t have the heart to tell his mom that Connor didn’t know it was him writing the letters, which is how he ended up baking cookies with his mom the day after Hanukkah ended. As soon as they were done, Heidi had already left for work, and Evan was tasked with the job of bringing them over to the Murphy’s place.

Before he left, he found a pen and a piece of paper to quickly scrawl out a note.

Cynthia is a bit confused as to who would be ringing her doorbell at nine at night. She is even more confused when no one is at the door, and she looks down to see a plate of cookies with a note taped to it. She leans down to pick up the plate, walks back inside and shuts the door. When she gets to her kitchen, she plucks the note from the plate and reads it.

Dear Connor Murphy

Have an excellent Christmas

Sincerely Me.

Cynthia can’t help but grin at the fact that Connor has a friend. She can’t remember the last time Connor even talked about a friend. Cynthia places the note back onto the plate, then proceeds to pick the plate up and carry it upstairs to her son’s room.

She knocks twice on the door, and the music that was blaring from inside is turned off. She hears heavy footsteps and then the door opens, revealing her son who seems to not have gotten dressed today. Instead, he is in sweats, a tank top, and has an apron covered in paint over his pajamas.

Cynthia doesn’t fail to notice the hard glare on her son’s face, and so she just holds up the plate.

Connor glances at it, and noticing the note, he picks it up and reads it.

Cynthia also doesn’t fail to notice the small smile and slight blush that Connor suddenly now has, as he takes the plate of cookies and ducks back into his room.

Cynthia can already tell that whoever this new friend is, is a good fit for her boy.

Christmas morning comes, and Evan figures that now is a good time to open Connor’s present. He brings the gift over to his bed. He tears open the wrapping paper and finds a book with a note covering the title.

Dear Mystery Writer

You always talk, or write, about how you love trees, so, here.

Evan flips the paper over and sees a beautifully drown Oak tree on the back. Evan knew Connor drew, as that’s what he does for most of math, but he never knew he could draw so, realistically. Before even glancing at what the title says, Evan gets up to pin the tree to his headboard, smiling proudly at it, before looking at the book.

Evan laughs when he sees it’s the Encyclopedia of Trees.

Connor also sits on his bed as he opens Mystery Writer’s gift. First, he looks at the note that was taped to the gift.

Dear Connor Murphy,

Your sweatshirts seem to have a lot of holes, I didn’t know if it was for comfort or what but I got you a new one. Oh, and I really like your nails so here’s some more polish.

Sincerely me’

Connor can feel the blush already beginning on his cheeks.

He unwraps the gift and instantly notices how soft the two hoodies are. He also decides that he will be using the new nail polish until it ran out. He can also feel his blush deepen and nearly scolds himself for feeling and acting this way. He shouldn’t start to like someone he doesn’t know the name of. He really shouldn’t. But then again, when has he ever done something he should do?

A week after school is back in session, the Kleinmans come over to the Hansen’s place for dinner. When Jared enters Evan’s room, he instantly notices the tree that’s still pinned up, and as Evan was gathering snacks downstairs, it felt only reasonable for Jared to see if he could see who drew it. It certainly wasn’t Evan, as his art skills were no better than Jared, who could only draw cartoon cats and nothing else.

When Jared is close enough to read the signature, he would have spat out his drink, if he was drinking something. Why would Conor Murphy draw Evan Hansen a tree?

When Evan walks back into his room, Jared plays innocent and asks his family friend who drew the tree.

When Evan blushes and says that it’s from Connor Murphy, Jared demands that Evan tells him why Connor drew him a tree.

After Evan is done explaining the letters, Jared can’t stop laughing.

“So first, you write sex letters about his sister, and now you’re writing sex letters about and for him?”

“No! Th-they’re not se-sex letter Jared! An-and I only wro-wrote about him on-once!” Which, was the wrong thing for Evan to say as it throws Jared into another fit of hysterics.

For the next month at school, Jared starts to act differently when he’s around Connor, and Connor severely hopes that Jared isn’t the letter guy as that would mean Connor has a crush on Jared, and he really hopes that isn’t the case.

However, for a slight second Connor is relieved when Jared tells him who the writer is.

Connor was casually reading one of the letters when Jared pops up and says “I see you have another love note from Evan tree boy Hansen.”

At that Connor watches as Jared's eyes widen and he quickly leaves. It takes a second for the brand new information to kick in, but then Connor realizes that the cute dorky kid that sits behind him in math. The kid he’s always had a small crush on. The kid he silently hoped was the mystery writer, is actually the mystery writer, and Connor doesn’t remember the last time he was this happy.

Evan was just about to walk out of school when he suddenly heard someone calling his name. He turned to see Connor Murphy running to catch up with him.

“Evan, can we talk? Now?”

Evan isn’t sure why Connor wants to talk to him, but being who he is, he gives a simple nod and lets Connor lead him to the tree that he usually sits under during lunch.

“So, uh, Jared told me you were the one writing letters to me. Is, uh, is that true?” Connor seems nervous and a little hopeful. Evan isn’t sure why.

“H-he told yo-you?”

Connor nods.

“OhgodI’msosorryIprobablywasn’tthepersonyouwantedtpbewritingyouletters. Sorry.”

“Uh, could you repeat that.”

Evan takes in a large breath of air before repeating his previous statement. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I probably wasn’t the person you wanted to be writing you letters. Sorry.” Evan’s nervous that Connor hates him now, and really doesn’t want that. He wants to be friends with him, especially since that’s the closest he can probably get to Connor liking him back.

“No! I’m glad it’s you. You’re probably the nicest kid in school, anyone else I would think was making fun of me. I just wanted to say thanks. So, uh, thanks.” And with that, Connor dashes away from Evan.

The next day at school, Evan is surprised to see a note flutter to the ground after opening his locker. He bent down to pick it up and is happy to find that the letter is from Connor.

From that day onwards, Evan and Connor correspond with letters for each other. They both want to talk outside these letters, be friends in real life as well.

In February Connor finally lets himself fall completely in love with the blond haired boy. However, he doesn’t tell anyone, especially Evan. Either way, Evan likes someone else. Sure, they have some of the same features, but there are plenty of kids at their school with brown hair. And the way Evan describes his crush? Definitely not him. One letter Connor received was all about this crush. Apparently, he has beautiful brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes with a small bit of brown in the left, and a face that was crafted by God himself.

Sure, Connor has brown hair, but so does half the student body. And yes, Connor has a bit of brown in his left eye, but so does Jared Kleinman and this other kid in his AP lit class. And Connor’s face was most definitely not crafted by God. No way in hell.

So yeah, Connor accepted that he likes Evan. Like, a lot. But he’s also accepted that Evan will never like him back. And that’s okay. Or so Connor tells himself.

It isn’t until mid-March that Evan asks Connor if he wants to go grab ice cream on Friday after school.

Connor replies back with a no shit and his phone number.

After school, Connor drove Evan to A la mode, his favorite ice cream place, and they hung out at Evan’s house until Connor left at eleven at night, running into Heidi Hansen, who was thrilled to finally meet the boy her son speaks so highly of. She then asked Connor for his mom’s number so she could talk to her.

Both moms were ecstatic to hear about their sons hanging out.

They were also happy to talk to each other about them.

Both boys had a blush on their faces for an hour afterward.

And both of them fell asleep with the other on their minds, once again.

For the last two and a half months of school, Connor and Evan are practically attached at the hip. Evan was at Connor’s house for Easter since Evan doesn’t celebrate it and his mom was working. Then, they skip prom and just hang out at Connor’s house watching 80’s movies. They fell asleep on the couch, Evan’s head on Connor’s shoulder, and Connor’s head on Evan’s head.

At the end of senior year, Evan informs Connor that he didn’t apply to any schools so that he could take a gap year and save up for school for a while longer. Connor decides then and there to just not go to college until Evan goes. Connor doesn’t want to be alone, he’s not good at making friends, and to get through life he just really needs one. He got lucky with Evan. He doesn’t think he will get as lucky again.

Evan gets a job at the Pottery Barn, and Connor works at the Michael's next door. They always share their lunch breaks together, and they carpool to work as Evan doesn’t like to drive, and Connor does. Plus it means more time being together, and neither of them will pass up that opportunity.

That winter, Connor, and Evan were at Evan’s house. Heidi was at work, taking on the night shift and wouldn’t be home until early the next morning. The boys took advantage of that situation and broke out a bottle of bourbon to share as they watched Lord of the Rings.

By the time they were on the second movie, both of them had a pretty good buzz going on.

And both boys were a little Childish when drunk.

“Hey, hey Evan.” Connor whispers, giggling.

“What?” After there’s a slight pause, Evan asks again, “Co-connor, what?”

“Oh! Oh right! I wanted to tell you something.” Connor isn’t giggling anymore, but he still has a large smile adorning his face.

“And?”

“It’s very important. I’ve know for a while now. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was nervous. Haha, I’m kind of nervous now, but like, less than usual. You know?”

“Co-con, just to-tell me. Please?”

“Oh right! I haven’t said it yet! Well, I like you!”

“I know th-that Con! That’s why we-we’re best fri-friends!”

“No! I mean I love you! Like, I want to date you and kiss you! All the time. But I don’t cause I don’t think you’d like that.”

“Well, th-that’s not true Co-con! I want to kiss you all the time too!”

“Really?” Connor’s very surprised, but also extremely happy.

“Ye-yeah!”

“Then, can I kiss you?”

Evan answers with a swift nod and Connor grabs Evan’s shirt collar and pulls him in for a sweet kiss, that’s long overdue.

When they pull back, neither of the boys have their eyes opened all the way. They’re both smiling, and they’re both still gripping onto each other.

Evan goes in for another kiss, and they fall back onto the couch, kissing lazily until they fall asleep, Evan on top of Connor, arms, and legs tangled, smiles still on their faces.

When Heidi comes home, she promptly ignores the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. Instead, she grabs a blanket from the basket by the TV and spreads it over her son and his new boyfriend. She smiles as she takes out her phone to send a picture to Cynthia, telling her that she expects the twenty bucks the next time they go out for coffee together.

She also decides that she’ll talk to the boys about the bottle after she congratulates them.

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