Chapter Text
For the next few days, Evan spent twenty-four hours a day at the hospital with Connor. He kept him company, bringing his laptop to watch movies (Connor was a big fan of Wolverine) and talking to him while he waited to be discharged. Whenever his family visited, the tension was so thick Evan could’ve cut it with a knife. Larry was very sparse with his conversation, often only saying “get well soon.” Zoe, when she did visit, was silent, rarely saying more than a greeting. Cynthia was more expressive, the only one of the three who tried to hold a conversation. She would ask him how he was feeling and ask what she could get for him.
Connor only asked for one thing: his sketchbook. When Cynthia brought it the next day, he thumbed to the next blank page and didn’t stop drawing for a long time. Evan tried to subtly look over at his book but he always rotated it so Evan couldn’t see. “No peeking, Hansen.” He sometimes talked to Evan while he drew, but most of the time they sat in a comfortable silence while Evan read.
Jared surprisingly visited fairly often. He always brought junk food and a gift, like a book for Evan or a new pencil for Connor. He brought Connor a charcoal pencil the second day, and for the rest of his stay the nurses were griping about the black smudges everywhere. They were on his hospital gown, the sheets, his face and hands, and even the IV drip, somehow. After Evan complained about getting the dark stains on the pages of his book, Connor lunged out of the hospital bed to smear more charcoal, this time on Evan’s face. Despite Evan’s begrudging expression, he was secretly insanely happy that Connor even had the strength to nearly jump out of bed. (He had almost taken the heart monitor with him, too.) Another day, Jared brought a bottle of black nail polish ironically. Evan and Connor tried to paint each other’s nails; Connor’s entire fingertips were blackened, while Evan’s nails were neatly and expertly painted. Connor yelled at Jared to bring acetone next time, to which Jared said to be more careful, dipshit. Evan felt vaguely guilty, but it was hard to be sad when Connor was frantically waving his hands in the air to dry the polish so he could scratch off the excess.
After the first day, Connor refused to eat the McDonald’s that Jared brought, as the salt and grease pained his still-sensitive stomach. He gladly accepted chocolate milkshakes, however, and would greedily chug as many as he could get his hands off. “You have no fucking idea how gross hospital food is,” he would whine before taking another long sip.
A week after the attempt, Evan was dozing off in the uncomfortable hospital chair he had spent the past three days straight in (he was careful to avoid resting his head on Connor’s stomach again.) The main nurse entered and gently removed Connor’s IV. “Am I finally getting out of this hellhole?” Connor said bluntly. Evan’s eyes fluttered open at this and he wiped the drool from his shoulder.
“Yes, today is your discharge date. You’ve been fairly stable so the doctor cleared you. Keep your arms bandaged until they are fully healed, be careful what you eat, and avoid strenuous physical activities…” the nurse droned on, helping Connor stand.
Evan rushed over to where Connor shakily stood and provided support. “Y-You’re finally getting out, Connor!” he exclaimed, smiling up at him as he slung his arm around Evan’s shoulders.
“About goddamn time,” Connor mumbled, gratefully clinging to Evan.
---
Monday morning. Connor and Evan’s first day back from the hospital. The dawn’s fog had yet to lift, shrouding the entire school in mist and giving the aura of a cemetery. Connor’s hands were shoved in the pocket of his hoodie and Evan was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as they walked down the hall to their table, students’ heads turning to watch.
“Oh my God, it’s Connor Murphy.”
“Did you hear?”
“He was the one who tried to kill himself.”
“Holy shit.”
Evan tried to ignore the voices and drifted closer to Connor’s side. He froze when Alana Beck approached them, putting a hand on Connor’s shoulder gently. “Hi, Connor. I heard about… your troubles and I wanted to say I’m here for you.”
“Like hell you are. I’ve never spoken to you before in my life, except for when you take Zoe out,” Connor growled, the dark circles around his eyes threatening her.
“Yes, that’s true, but if you ever want to change that, I’m here.” She smiled warmly up at him despite his demeanor and Evan gawked at her bravery.
“Fuck off,” stated Connor simply, stomping down the hallway past her.
“S-Sorry about that, h-he, um, he’s still… y’know,” Evan offered meekly before running after Connor. He turned a corner and saw Connor chucking his messenger bag on the table and sitting. He sat next to Connor and tugged out one of his earbuds. “It’s o-okay, Connor, she only meant well,” he tried to explain.
“Bullshit, she just wants to befriend the suicidal guy for another bullet point on her damn résumé,” Connor sighed, but his breathing slowed and he seemed to calm back down. He ran a hand through his hair (the moment he got home, Evan watched him race to the bathroom to take a shower; he apparently hated having greasy hair) and plucked out his other earbud. Evan picked at his cast; it was supposed to come off in another week, but he had become accustomed to Connor’s name in big, bold letters in his periphery and was almost sad to see it go. He couldn’t hide his soulmate quote from Connor any longer after his cast came off, and the thought of confessing hurt his stomach. Just a little longer, until he’s stable, he told himself.
Evan was shocked out of his reverie by a cold hand sliding into his own. He turned to look at Connor, heat rising to his face. Connor made eye contact and coughed. “I just need to make sure that you’re… that you’re real.” He didn’t move his hand and neither did Evan. They sat for the next fifteen minutes, hands intertwined under the table and watching the fog lift. Evan hoped Connor couldn’t feel how sweaty his palms were. The bell rang and the two reluctantly withdrew their hands. “Later,” Connor said gruffly before slinging his backpack over his shoulder and walking the opposite direction.
Evan stared at his hand, still in shock. He rubbed his palm on his khakis to rid them of sweat and shrugged on his backpack, making his way to his first period.
---
Forming coherent thoughts was hard. Evan dazedly trudged through his first four periods, his mind dulled by six days off of school. He missed sitting in the hospital room with Connor, sipping milkshakes and trying in vain to erase charcoal smudges from the bedsheets. His arm ached acutely. Nonetheless, he made it through to lunch.
He sat at the table again, the scene around it transformed by daylight. The leaves that hadn’t fallen yet were turning a beautiful firey orange and the unmistakeable smell of fall was in the air. His hand tingled and he rubbed it anxiously.
Connor wordlessly sat next to Evan and linked their fingers again. Evan swallowed the butterflies that threatened to choke him alive and reciprocated the gesture. Words weren’t needed. Connor and Evan had a strange kind of mutual understanding on almost everything, from mental health to music to the silent vow Evan made to Connor to never snoop in his sketchbook.
“Thank God you two dumbasses are finally back, it was getting eerily quiet around here,” Jared exclaimed happily, taking a seat. Evan was relieved he seemed to not notice their hands.
“I’m pretty sure I can still hear the damn heart monitor,” Connor stated sourly. Evan’s arm burned.
“Has anybody said anything about it?” Evan asked, gently squeezing Connor’s hand. (Fuck. Was he being weird? He was totally being weird. Holding hands is weird.)
He was reassured by Connor’s calloused thumb rubbing a circle into the back of his hand, his heart rate rising and stomach getting caught in his throat. “Nah. Nobody has the balls. Sometimes being the school’s resident psycho has its benefits, I guess.”
Jared laughed at this. “True.” Evan zoned out as Connor and Jared continued talking, lost in the coolness radiating off of Connor’s body. His thumb continued making lazy circles on his hand. Evan wondered if he played guitar due to the rough callous on his thumb. His black nail polish gleamed in the sunlight and Evan bit the nails of his free hand absentmindedly. Jared’s voice sounded in the back of his mind as words seared into his forearm; he was going to have to tell him sometime. He couldn’t keep lying to him like this. Connor deserved the truth. But what if Connor didn’t like him back yet? What if Connor was weirded out? What if Connor wasn’t his soulmate?
Connor nudged his shoulder. “Hansen? You there? Jared asked you if you were going to eat that.”
Evan blinked a few times and looked back at Connor. “S-Sorry, I zoned. Yeah, you can have it.” He tossed the granola bar to Jared and took a deep breath. His hand had gone clammy around Connor’s, but he didn’t seem to notice.
---
For the next week, Connor couldn’t let go of Evan’s hand. Evan speculated it was due to his attempt, and Connor later explained it as a way of grounding himself and reminding himself that he was okay and alive. Evan wasn’t complaining, of course, he loved clingy Connor. It wasn’t just hand-holding, either; Connor would rest his head on his shoulder, or touch his knee, or even wrap his arm around him when he was feeling particularly brave. He did it when they were in private, like at the orchard or in Evan’s room, and in public, like at school, leaning against the lockers and daring any onlookers to say anything.
Evan’s head swam at every instance of casual physical contact, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like it. Connor was right; it felt reassuring that yes, Connor was a real person and he’s right beside him and he’s tracing the tendons in his hand with a polished nail. (Evan liked running the pad of his thumb along the smooth, black enamel on Connor’s nails.) Sometimes Evan noticed people giving them strange looks, but whenever he nudged Connor, he would squeeze his hand twice as hard and pull him closer. Somehow this always untied the knot of anxiety in Evan’s gut better than any anxiety med he had tried (and he’d tried them all.)
It was nice.
---
The saw buzzed loudly as it cut through Evan’s cast. He looked at it numbly as it cut a strike through Connor’s name. His mother smiled and clapped as the halves of the cast fell apart to reveal the pale, dirty arm underneath. The black quote stared up at Evan as he looked at it for the first time since the summer. He hesitantly moved his wrist, feeling disconcerted. He forgot what moving his wrist felt like. The lightness of his arm was also striking. He didn’t stop flexing his wrist until he got home.
Evan took a long shower, scrubbing the grimy arm as hard as he could. “What the fuck are you laughing at?” The quote felt like it was boring a hole in his arm. He rubbed the washcloth harder, hoping that the text would fade in vain. Connor was going to see it, no doubt; Evan didn’t own very many long sleeve shirts. Jared’s argument echoed in his mind. How could he possibly confess? The skin was red and irritated. The too-hot water that cascaded down his back was now turning lukewarm. He wet his hair one last time and shut off the water.
As he toweled off, he considered some fantasies.
They’re at the orchard, sitting at the base of a tree at sunset. Their fingers are casually laced together as they cloudgaze; Connor points out a cloud that looks like a heart and Evan laughs warmly. “Hey, Connor. I have something I need to tell you.”
“Yeah, Evan?” Connor asks sweetly, turning his head to look at him with those soft blue eyes Evan’s seemingly always drowning in. His thumb is rubbing Evan’s hand affectionately and the sunlight gives a warm cast to his skin, making him look nothing short of angelic.
“I think you’re my soulmate. Here, look at my quote,” Evan states smoothly, not a stutter in his voice, as he shows Connor his forearm. He feels no anxiety, no nagging voice in the back of his head; just the setting sunshine on his face and Connor’s warmth by his side.
Connor gasps and his free hand shoots up to his mouth, his face turning pink. “Wow, really? I can’t believe it!” he says in shock. Evan smiles and leans in, kissing Connor chastely. His lips are soft and warm and he squeaks in surprise. Evan withdraws from the kiss and grins at him, heart racing. Connor blushes and threads his fingers into Evan’s hair, pulling him closer as he bites his lip--
Okay, Evan, time to stop, he thought quickly, shaking his head roughly. That’d never happen, he was being crazy. He should get real. What might actually happen? He thought of another situation.
They’re at lunch with Jared. He shoots Evan a glare, egging him on. Evan clears his throat anxiously. “C-C-Connor, I n-need to, uh, t-t-tell you something,” he stutters sharply. His voice cracks.
“What the fuck do you want?” Connor seethes, sneering at Evan.
“W-Well, I, um, I think y-y-you should s-see my s-s-soulmate tattoo,” Evan stammers, thrusting his forearm at Connor. He grabs his wrist roughly, his black nails digging into Evan’s sensitive skin as he scrutinized the ink.
He burst into laughter. “Oh my God, you don’t actually think we’re soulmates, do you? God, you’re so stupid. I’d never love you, not in a million years, you fucking freak! Can you believe it, Jared?” he cries, wiping his eye as he laughs loudly. People are watching the spectacle and whispering. Evan feels hot shame curl in his stomach.
“What a fucking loser! I can’t believe he fucking fell for it!” Jared cackled, laughing with Connor. Evan shrunk into himself as Zoe and Alana and everybody at the school circled the table, laughing and pointing and whispering at Evan, Evan, what a fucking freak, what a loser, what an idiot, what a dumbass--
Evan’s mother knocked on the bathroom door. “Evan? You’ve been in there for a long time. You okay?”
Evan looked at the door blankly. He was crying on the floor, still not even clothed. He rubbed his eyes and yelled, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just g-getting dressed.” He heard her footsteps fade and sniffled acutely. He tugged on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie and ran to his room. He dry swallowed two of his anxiety meds and sat on his bed, hot tears dripping from his chin and onto the blue comforter. His phone dinged and he flinched, reaching for it shakily.
[10:36 PM] Prince of Halo: you. me. your prize for winning halo: à la mode. orchard. tomorrow. 4 pm. i’ll pick you up. you in?
[10:38 PM] Evan Hansen: Of course!!
Evan’s mouth twisted up into a smile and he held his phone close to his chest, resisting the urge to kick and dance. Fuck yes, another friend-date with Connor! Maybe he could confess then… His mind drifted to the first scenario dreamily. He decided to get a second opinion on the matter.
[10:47 PM] Evan Hansen: Okay so Connor and I are going to get ice cream & go to the orchard tomorrow… should I tell him?
[10:48 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: DUDE OFC WHY ARE YOU EVEN ASKING THAT
[10:49 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: why are you even asking man of course you should
[10:49 PM] Evan Hansen: I don’t know!! I’m really nervous.
[10:50 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: have you not seen the way he looks at you like youre in a goddamn nicholas sparks romcom??
[10:51 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: seriously like im thirdwheeling mega hard
[10:53 PM] Evan Hansen: I’m calling bullshit, Jare.
[10:54 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: DEEP SIGH
Evan locked his phone and placed it on his nightstand. Did he really look at him like that? Jared must be kidding, right? He fell asleep uneasily.
---
The next morning, Connor smoothly interlaced their fingers again, squeezing gently as he scrolled on his phone. He had one headphone in and Evan had in the other one and they were leaning against each other, the grungy chords of Nirvana flowing through the tiny speakers. Evan couldn’t fathom how nonchalant he was about holding his hand. “Wait. You got your cast off,” Connor said, looking at Evan’s arm.
Shit, shit, shit, Evan thought. He can’t see the quote, Evan wasn’t ready, what if he saw the quote? Evan shrugged as coolly as he could. “Yeah. I’m finally free, I guess.” He thanked his lucky stars he was wearing a jacket today.
“Nice. Want me to write my name on your arm, just like old times?” Connor quipped, nudging him with his elbow.
Evan felt ice run through his veins; he was absurdly close to the truth. “I-I think I’m okay, thanks.”
Connor changed the subject and yanked out his earbud. “Excited for your prize today, Halo King?” he teased, withdrawing his hand and drawing circles on Evan’s palm instead.
Evan shivered. “Yeah. This’ll be your first À La Mode since the hospital, huh?”
“Oh hell yeah. You already know I’m going to put so much sugary shit on it, it’ll be a damn miracle if I don’t immediately fall into a diabetic coma,” Connor smirked.
“No comas on my watch, Murphy,” Evan laughed, leaning on Connor’s shoulder affectionately.
“I’ll go into a coma if I want to, you’re not my mom,” Connor said dramatically.
“You don’t even listen to your mom!” Evan giggled, poking Connor’s hand in jest.
“Shit, you got me there, Hansen.” Connor laughed genuinely and Evan couldn’t keep his eyes off him. His heart pounded in his chest and his wrist ached but he ignored it, taking in Connor’s gleeful expression. It was pretty rare that Connor smiled fully, wrinkles forming around his eyes and nose crinkling. Evan was awestruck and his heart skipped a beat. Connor squeezed Evan’s hand and Evan squeezed back.
The moment was shattered by the bell ringing loudly above their heads. Connor ceased laughing and ran a finger along Evan’s wrist. “See you later, Hansen,” he said, standing and leaving Evan dazed and lovestruck.
---
Lunch came and Evan found himself looking forward to the physical contact with Connor, as much as he was ashamed to admit it. They sat in their usual position, with their hands intertwined under the table and thighs touching out of Jared’s line of sight. Evan was looking at the trees, transfixed by the changing colors of the leaves. The breeze rustled the branches, making more leaves fall lazily to the ground below. Evan loved to stare at trees.
Jared coughed conspicuously. Evan’s head jerked back down and he looked towards Connor for an explanation. Much to his surprise, Connor had his chin in his left hand and was staring at Evan previously. He quickly moved, pretending like he was looking at a student who was passing by. “W-What is she wearing, right?” he mumbled and returned to his lunch, which was a bottle of Diet Coke. Jared barked out a laugh and nodded at Evan. Evan felt his body flush and looked away. As much as he pained him, Jared was right. Was he being naïve? He tightened his grip on Connor’s hand.
---
Connor hadn’t been able to pass any notes to Evan since the teacher intercepted his gun drawing. This day ended that, however, as a crumpled paper ball landed on Evan’s desk. He eagerly unfolded it and saw a doodle of an apple tree. He smiled down at the paper and decided to add a suspiciously tall and lanky boy at the base of the tree, eating an apple. He re-crumpled the paper and threw it back.
Next time, Connor added a shorter boy with a highlighter-blue polo and an ice cream cone. Next to Evan’s stick-figure-esque scribble, Connor’s depiction of Evan was detailed and beautiful. Evan added an ice cream cone in Connor’s hand and a smile on his face. He catapulted it back at Connor.
Watching Connor open it and grin like an idiot made Evan’s arm burn dully. He wrote on the back of the paper and threw it back at Evan.
“I WANT TO SHOW YOU THIS PLACE. ITS RIGHT NEXT TO THE ORCHARD + I THINK YOULL LIKE IT.”
“:O Really?! Sounds cool!! I can’t wait!!”
Connor shoved the note in his pocket and shot a smile in Evan’s direction. He didn’t send another note after that and Evan buried himself in his Calculus notes.
---
Evan nervously ran his hands through his hair in front of the mirror, trying to make himself look presentable. He knew Connor wouldn’t care, but he couldn’t help himself from adjusting his Ellison State Park tee anxiously. A knock sounded on the door and Evan ran to open the door, smiling when he saw Connor standing there in his trademark black jacket and ripped jeans.
The two traveled downstairs and Evan climbed into Connor’s truck enthusiastically. He inhaled deeply and noticed a smoldering joint in the cupholder; Connor must’ve been smoking before he picked him up. Connor turned the ignition and, much to Evan’s surprise, a light and happy guitar or ukulele melody flowed through the speakers. “First stop: À La Mode,” mumbled Connor, reversing out of the parking lot.
Hot wind blew through the open windows, kissing Evan’s face and ruffling his meticulously-combed hair. His hand rubbed at the skin where his cast used to be; as weird as it sounded, he missed it. It was his shield, it gave him something to do in awkward situations instead of pick at his nails and the hem of his shirt. It was a social crutch even more than a physical one to Evan. The breeze on his arm felt foreign and strange after losing the familiar feeling of the heavy weight of the cast. He had decided against a jacket, wanting to make the most of his naked arm. He pushed the nagging feeling that Connor would notice his tattoo back down and focused on the plucky chords that Connor was humming along to.
He turned his attention back to the serene Connor that sat beside him. He was leaning on the palm of his left hand, the elbow resting on the window slot, and tapping on the steering wheel to the beat with his right hand. The tails of bandages trailed out of the cuffs of his jacket and Evan was happy that he was taking care of himself. Connor’s black nail polish was chipping and his long hair was messy, but Evan realized he loved the imperfections. They reminded him that he didn’t have to be perfectly put together, either. (It also helped that he liked to look at the little, almost imperceptible freckles that adorned Connor’s cheeks.)
A minute later, the breeze ceased and Connor was parking the truck. The two paused for a minute before exiting the car. “It’s nice outside today,” Connor said quietly.
“It is,” Evan replied. Connor gave Evan a look that he couldn’t quite describe. The sunlight framed his face in a way that was nothing short of seraphic, turning his hair into a white glowing halo. His breath caught in his throat. The air was warm and pressing on Evan’s lungs in a not completely unpleasant way. His normal suffocation feeling was lessened, and his arm was buzzing with sensation. There was a foot between them but he felt close.
Connor opened the door and Evan snapped out of it. They ventured into À La Mode and bought two cones--Evan’s was still a plain chocolate while Connor’s this time was cookies and cream with a pound of toppings. Connor paid for both again and Evan let him as his trophy for beating him earlier. They drove together to the orchard, a short drive, but took a right at the last second. “Here it is, my favorite place,” Connor announced, the car sputtering to a stop.
A wide open field, framed with trees, with tall wild grass carpeting the ground laid in front of them. The wind blew the grass and the leaves, gently rustling. The golden sunshine gave the entire clearing a beautiful warm tint and Evan wondered if he was in heaven. He gasped and swallowed. “It’s… beautiful.”
Connor nodded in Evan’s periphery. “C’mon, stop dripping ice cream on the seat and let’s go sit.” Evan reeled in embarrassment upon noticing the chocolate was dripping down his hand and pooling on the seat of the truck. He began stammering a profuse apology but Connor cut him off. “These seats have been through worse, Hansen. Let’s go.”
They exited the truck as Evan hurriedly licked the excess ice cream off the cone and his hand. The last breezes of summer blew Connor’s hair and Evan felt his palms grow sweaty around his ice cream. Connor’s long fingers closed around Evan’s wrist and he tugged, leading him through the tall grass. He let himself be dragged through the picturesque field, his entire body flooding with emotion. Connor was still so skinny; he was always skinny, but during his hospitalization he became almost emaciated and it was apparent by the way his jacket hung on and tried to slip off of his shoulders.
A word popped into his mind as he looked at Connor’s spindly legs sprinting deeper into the field with Evan in tow: bittersweet. The hospitalization, his tattoo, Connor was bittersweet. Evan was beyond happy when he found out that he had a soulmate, but it was Connor, and Connor wasn’t a very friendly or open person. He pondered for a moment about why Connor talked to him in the first place. Maybe it was a bet. Maybe it was Jared paying him off so Evan wouldn’t cling to him as much. Maybe he was just as lonely as Evan. His mind wandered to his suicide attempt. Evan’s stomach twisted as he remembered the blood, the vomit, the empty pill bottle. He felt acute guilt in his ribcage like a caged bird struggling to escape. If he had been a better friend, would Connor not have tried to kill himself? He should’ve brought his damn phone, should’ve picked up when he called, should’ve responded when he texted, should’ve stopped his suicidal thoughts in their tracks. He thought back to his attempt before the school year started. He wished he had Connor then. Everything would have been different, he wished everything was different. Connor’s hand was cold. He remembered the first day, when he had sat with Connor, leaning on the trunk of an apple tree. He was warm. Heat radiated from Connor like he was the sun, volatile and blinding, and Evan wasn’t wearing sunglasses. Now, though, his touch was cold and somber, more like a dying star. Something had shifted.
Connor slowed to a stop, turned to face Evan, and laid down on the ground. Evan laid beside him, missing the feeling of his grip on his wrist. Just as he thought that, Connor slipped his hand into Evan’s, long fingers tangling with his own. His forearm itched relentlessly and his heart rate skyrocketed as he looked up at the sky with Connor. Cotton candy clouds lazily drifted across the horizon. Evan gripped Connor’s hand a little tighter.
Connor was the first to break the silence. “Thanks.”
“For what?” Evan asked quizzically.
“I don’t know. Staying with me?” Connor mumbled, massaging his wrist. A silence (not comfortable nor uncomfortable) spread like jam between them. Evan inched infinitesimally closer to Connor. “It… It means a lot,” he finished, looking over at Evan.
“N-No problem,” coughed Evan. Jared’s smug voice sounded in his ear, “Just fucking do it already! He’s in a good mood, he just said some really sappy shit, you’re sitting in a fucking field, the timing couldn’t get more perfect.” His arm sung in anticipation as he tried to work up the nerve.
Connor sat up abruptly. “We’re friends, right?”
Evan slowly sat up to face him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Of course, Connor. W-What’s up?” he said through a lump of anxiety.
Connor’s teeth worried at his lip and he picked at his nail polish. “Okay. Okay, this is happening,” he whispered, running a shaky hand through his wild mane of hair. Evan tilted his head in confusion. Connor shifted so he was sitting on the balls of his feet and facing Evan who sat cross-legged in front of him. He took a deep breath and continued. “Well, uh. I… I have feelings for you,” he blurted loudly.
Evan’s brain short-circuited. His heart jumped to his throat and his pulse skyrocketed, his palms became sweaty on his knees. “W-W-What?” he stuttered, his diaphragm about to burst.
Connor laughed awkwardly. “Evan Hansen, I have no idea if you’re my soulmate or not, but I… I kind of really fucking love you,” he continued, his face turning a bright red color that Evan had never seen before. “You’re just, fuck, I’ve never really had a friend like you before and God you’re fucking amazing and I love your smile, your eyes, your stupid fucking jokes, your goddamn tree facts, the way you care so unfathomably much, and I don’t know how soulmates work or if you’re even my soulmate but if you aren’t mine there’s been a goddamn glitch in the system because you’re a fucking masterpiece,” he rambled on, his voice getting progressively shakier, a rare occurrence for the chronically over-confident Connor. Evan’s body was on fire but his brain still hadn’t processed the information and he looked at him numbly. Did he just actually say that?
“God, you really aren’t getting it, are you? Stop me if you want,” Connor mumbled and Evan’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion and he was leaning forward and oh my God Connor’s lips were on his. They were chapped and tender from his lip-biting and their teeth clacked together unpleasantly. Connor exhaled through his nose, his hands fisted in Evan’s collar and pulling him closer, the tip of his nose pressing against Evan’s cheek. Evan felt his entire body burst into flames and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline, his open eyes taking in Connor’s screwed-shut ones. He was sure he was blushing deeply as Connor was. The split second felt like a millennia and a nanosecond all at once, just a clumsy peck on the mouth yet Evan’s entire being reeled. The burning in his forearm subsided.
Connor slowly retreated, his eyelashes fluttering and his mouth slightly open. His entire face was red down to his ears and his neck. He hesitantly let go of Evan’s collar as a pregnant silence enveloped them. The breeze whispered quietly around the two as the gears turned in Evan’s head. “I’m sorry, I thought…” Connor began and Evan saw anxiety and paranoia set in on his face.
Without thinking, Evan surged forward again, trying to knot his hands in Connor’s hair. He missed his mouth and instead got the corner of his lips, which made Connor burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Hansen, you’re such a dork,” he chuckled, pressed a warm hand to the nape of Evan’s neck, and pulled him in to kiss him gently.
All the anxiety melted out of Evan’s body. The only word on his lips was Connor, Connor, Connor, his fingers tangled in his hair, heat emanating from his body, a smile on his lips as they pressed against Evan’s, a hand on his cheek. Evan’s eyes shut this time and he was absorbed in the sensations; Connor’s mouth, his calloused fingers on his chin, his other hand wrapped around the back of his neck, the warmth seeping through Connor’s shirt as Evan put his hand on his side, Connor’s muffled happy noises. Evan’s arm didn’t burn anymore. His head felt full of cotton, like he was dreaming. He hoped he wasn’t a bad kisser as he tried to move his lips softly against Connor’s.
Connor finally separated from him after what felt like an eon and touched their foreheads together, a big, goofy smile spreading across his face. “I’ll take that as the feelings are mutual?”
Evan nodded. “Yeah, C-Connor, I also kind of really fucking love you,” he managed to say despite the heat that rushed to his face. He couldn’t suppress a grin as he intertwined their fingers. “A-A-And, um, t-there’s something I think you should see?” he said with an upward inflection, reaching his left arm out for Connor to see.
He ran his fingers over the letters gently (God he was so gentle with Evan) and his face went through a million emotions. “I… I said this. Oh my God, we’re soulmates. Jesus Christ, Evan, you’re my soulmate,” Connor wheezed. The sun was setting behind him, sunlight spilling around him and casting him in an ethereal glow. His eyes lifted to meet Evan’s, and holy shit, his blue eyes (with just a bit of brown in the left one, he noted) were so bright and luminous and full of hope for the first time since the hospital. Evan’s chest ached with something, maybe love, maybe affection, maybe pain. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” Connor asked tentatively.
A hot wave of guilt crashed over Evan’s body like a tsunami. “W-Well, I, um. I, I’m kind of a really nervous person and I was scared you would react badly? I was going to, before the, um, the attempt, but then it happened and I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you, because I would totally never do that, and I, uh, I figured that maybe I’d do it when I got my cast off but I haven’t thought of a plan but I guess I don’t need one now?” He gushed, the words bleeding together as he talked quickly. “I mean, I guess what I’m trying to say is I want you to like me for me, and not for the words on my arm, y’know? I wanted it to be more… organic, I guess, I don’t know,” he trailed off, looking down at his nails.
Connor put a hand under Evan’s chin and lifted his head so he was forced to look at him. Connor’s eyes were wet as he replied, “Evan, it’s okay, it’s okay, I understand. I’m kind of happy it worked out this way in the end.” He wiped his eye and smiled into Evan’s face.
“What does this m-mean? For us?” Evan asked hesitantly, unable to take his eyes off of Connor. He had never seen him so hopeful and radiant and he hoped he would get to see him like this more.
“I don’t know. More ice cream, I guess?” he laughed, shrugging. Evan laid back down on the ground and Connor curled up by his side, watching the sunset together. Connor ran his fingers along his quote gently.
---
The main thing that changed was that now Connor showed up at Evan’s apartment randomly. They challenged each other in Halo often, and sometimes Connor would bring his sketchbook and after Evan begged for a while he’d let him look through it. He flipped through the pages and noticed that the charcoal pencil Jared gave him was particularly well-loved. He apparently liked to draw Evan a lot; Evan found himself blushing as he looked through pages and pages of him smiling or climbing a tree or sitting in the field by the orchard. (Connor stated that drawing and Evan are two of the things that help him relax the most, so he often combined them. Evan blushed.)
The field became a common hang-out (are they dates now? pondered Evan) spot. Sometimes Connor would park the truck near the orchard and he and Evan would cuddle in the bed of the truck for hours on end. Evan always instantly relaxed when Connor wrapped his long arm around him, pulling him into his chest where he rested his head and listened to his heartbeat. Connor remained exceptionally clingy, the physical intimacy seemingly instantly soothing his ever present anger.
Mental health remained a struggle. Evan was still anxious, especially when Connor wanted to get exceptionally eager or handsy with the PDA, even though Connor was the best way to calm him down. He learned to talk quietly to Evan when he had a panic attack, whispering sweet nothings and embracing him tightly. He let him soak the shoulder of his shirts with tears and he rocked him back and forth gently, drawing on his back with his black nails. He also found that Evan loved it when he played his ukulele (After a while of Connor’s rough thumbs brushing against his cheek or the back of his hand, Evan asked him about his callouses on his hands and he sheepishly confessed his love for playing his ukulele. Evan found it adorable and tried to get him to play as much as possible) and often serenaded him. During Connor’s episodes, all he needed was for Evan to sit in his lap and bear hug him as hard as he could. He explained that he wasn’t just a horny teenage boy; physical contact did, in fact, help ground him in reality, but when Evan brought up the fact that Connor loved giving him hickies, he stopped arguing his innocence outside of his mental illness. (Explaining these hickies to his mother became increasingly harder, as Connor left them not only on his neck, but on his collarbones, his jaw, his chest, and sometimes his hips if he was feeling particularly affectionate. Evan always playfully pushed him away before he managed to get below the belt, though, much to Connor’s chagrin.)
Connor loved kissing and tracing over Evan’s soulmate quote. He felt guilty that his quote was so shitty, but Evan expressed that he actually liked it. It was very distinctively Connor. Evan felt way more guilt than Connor did, though, once he learned that Connor had no idea who his soulmate was for most of his life.
“Well, ‘what?’ is really vague. Pretty much everyone who talks to me’s first word is ‘what,’” Connor shrugged nonchalantly, playing with Evan’s hair as Evan laid on his chest in his bed.
“Jesus, I’m so sorry I’m so nervous all the time,” Evan muttered into Connor’s neck. He pressed his lips to his pulse point to try and atone, burrowing into Connor’s neck and hair more. He breathed him in, smelling the distinct, familiar smell of Connor; candy sweetness, something tangy, and a hint of weed that always clung to his clothes.
“It’s okay. It’s kind of cute,” Connor laughed, petting Evan’s hair gently. “I’m glad it turned out the way it did, anyway. I was so anxious before telling you, did you know that?”
“You were?” Evan asked, looking up at him. His forearm tingled happily as he interlaced their fingers again.
“Yep. I was pining so hard for you, man. It took a small army to get me to finally bite the bullet and kiss you. I’d never had a crush on anybody before and I was so scared I was doing something wrong. I mean, I put up with Jared fucking Kleinman for you, so you know I was dedicated as hell,” he smirked and Evan felt his chest shake with a chuckle.
“A b-brave sacrifice,” Evan giggled. “I still can’t believe you love me back,” he whispered, his nose pressing against Connor’s jawline.
Connor pressed a kiss to his forehead, running his hand up and down his shoulder. “And I don’t know what you see in me, Hansen,” he replied. “I’m a mentally ill, suicidal, angry, skinny, pale-ass stoner.”
Evan rolled his eyes. “You forgot ‘stupid.’”
“Ah, yes, my mistake,” Connor replied amusedly, tightening his arm around Evan’s shoulders. “You’ve turned me into a sap, Hansen,” he mumbled. “You’ve turned me soft.”
“You’re welcome.” He angled his chin upwards to give Connor a kiss on the lips this time, and Connor eagerly reciprocated. Connor moved his hands to Evan’s hips and pulled him up on the bed so he could get a better vantage point, licking his lip in typical, impatient Connor fashion. Evan smiled into the kiss and wondered what he’d done to deserve a soulmate like Connor Murphy.
---
Jared screamed when Evan broke the news to him. He said he was proud of Evan for not completely losing his shit when Connor ended up confessing first. He sat Evan and Connor down at lunch the day after and cleared his throat. “I have something to tell both of you.”
“Kleinman, we know you’re gay, if that’s what you’re saying,” Connor smirked.
“Shut your damn mouth, Murphy. So, basically, the entire time you two dumbasses were head over goddamn heels for each other, I was caught in the middle. Evan kept texting me about how he wanted to make out with Connor and Connor kept texting me about how hot Evan looks in his khakis or whatever. This has been the most fucking harrowing experience of my entire life, and you are both damn lucky I didn’t tell the other before you doofuses did.” Jared dug out his phone and showed Evan a text log between him and Connor and Connor sputtered a protest.
[11:58 AM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: ur not subtle yknow
[11:59 AM] tall angsty asshole: i’m sure i don’t know what you’re talking about
[12:00 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: the heart eyes. ur totally gay for hansen, arent u??
[12:03 PM] tall angsty asshole: dont be ridiculous
[12:04 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: I FUCKING KNEW IT AHAHAHAHAH
[12:05 PM] tall angsty asshole: IF YOU TELL HIM I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU KLEINMAN
Jared laughed and scrolled down. “Remember when you were in denial?”
“That murder’s still on the table, Kleinman,” Connor growled.
[11:27 PM] tall angsty asshole: FUCK man how is he so cute
[11:28 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: go be gay somewhere else
[11:29 PM] tall angsty asshole: jared i’m fucking dying over here
[11:29 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: ask him out you goddamn coward
[11:30 PM] tall angsty asshole: what if he doesn’t fucking like me?
[11:31 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: i mean can you blame him lmao
[11:32 PM] tall angsty asshole: eat a bag of dicks kleinman
[11:32 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: im on it
“Fuck you, Kleinman, these were confidential!” Connor yelled. Jared snickered and scrolled down.
[1:48 PM] tall angsty asshole: WHAT THE FUUUUUCK
[1:50 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: any particular reason why youre texting me in the middle of fifth period??
[1:51 PM] tall angsty asshole: YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE I CAN VENT TO ABOUT EVAN SO YOU’RE STUCK WITH IT
[1:52 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: oh my gooooood just make out w him already
[1:53 PM] tall angsty asshole: i’m fucking trying you cunt
[1:53 PM] tall angsty asshole: you know how goddamn TEMPTING it is whenever i drive him anywhere?
[1:56 PM] tall angsty asshole: he sits in the passenger seat with the window down and his hair’s all blown from the wind and he's smiling all cute and he’s bobbing his head to my shitty music
[1:57 PM] tall angsty asshole: it takes all my goddamn willpower not to stick my tongue down his throat okay
[1:59 PM] the insanely cool jared kleinman: yknow i dont think i needed all that detail but its good to know that youre a goddamn sap
[2:00 PM] tall angsty asshole: shut the fuck up
Evan felt his face turn red and he squeezed Connor’s hand. “Oh my God, I had no idea! Jared was telling me the same thing, trying to get me to ask you out,” he said incredulously. “You’re a goddamn mastermind.”
“Thank you, thank you. You’re fucking welcome, by the way.”
---
Zoe and Alana were ecstatic when Connor and Evan broke the news to them. Alana gushed about how she pretty much knew anyway by the way they acted like more than acquaintances and Zoe shrugged, saying she figured it out when Evan refused to leave his side during the hospitalization. “I mean, you were like conjoined twins. It doesn’t take a detective to figure it out.” Connor punched her shoulder.
---
It was three AM and Connor burst into Evan’s room. Evan had been crying on his bed, another anxiety attack rearing its ugly head. He had texted Connor that he was feeling bad and not ten minutes later Connor was in his apartment (Evan had long ago had a copy of the key made for Connor) and dropping plastic bags on the ground to rush to Evan’s side.
“Evan, Evan, I’m here, Evan, it’s okay, babe, Evan, love…” He whispered pet names into his ear as he held him close, Evan shivering hard against his chest. His body was wracked by sniffles and sobs. Evan’s hands knotted in Connor’s loose t-shirt and Connor rubbed his back sympathetically.
“Everybody h-h-hates m-me. I-I’m such a fuck-king b-b-burden,” Evan whimpered, tears soaking into the cotton of Connor’s shirt.
“No you aren’t, Evan, you’re not a burden, you’re my best friend, you’re my soulmate, you’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me,” Connor reassured him, petting his hair and hugging him as tightly as humanly possible.
Evan looked up at him through teary eyes. “N-N-Nobody likes me, C-Connor. I’m a w-w-whiny, anx-xious, annoying, s-stupid piece of shit,” he sobbed, tears and snot dripping down his face.
Connor pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I love you,” his left cheek, “I love you,” his right cheek, “I love you,” his nose, “I love you,” and his chin, “I love you. I love you, Evan Hansen, and you are not whiny or annoying or stupid, you are my favorite person and my soulmate and I love you more than anything else in this world.”
He was nervous, he mumbled, he bit his nails, he wasn’t athletic, he wasn’t attractive, he liked trees more than people, he had insomnia, he had social anxiety, he had no social skills, he had a terrible stutter, he couldn’t talk in front of people, and he was always uncomfortable.
Who could ever love Evan Hansen?
Connor kissed Evan tenderly and withdrew, rubbing a thumb on his cheek and smiling down at him.
Apparently, Connor Murphy.