Work Text:
Prompt: “He squeezed it so tightly it broke.”
Connor stared despicably at the image on his computer screen. He looked happy. They all did—Neeley and Michaels playfully jabbed each other with their elbows, Chris and James were standing side by side, the former on a stool so he wouldn’t look so short next to the other (his height was always a sensitive subject for him), and Arnold was squeezing Naba to the point she couldn’t breathe. All was right.
On the other side of Arnold stood Connor. Smiling, red faced—caused by embarrassment or the unrelenting sun, he could never know in Uganda—and Kevin hugging him from behind, beaming with more joy than he’d ever seen one person express before or since then.
Present-day Connor felt like he was going to cry and be sick at the same time.
Today marked three years since the end of the mission. James posted the picture to Facebook an hour ago, and Connor had been periodically closing the page and clicking back that whole time in a self-sabotaging cycle, like clockwork. Maybe he expected something to be somehow different each time he looked at it, or that all his emotions towards the image had changed within the span of five minutes. Maybe he just enjoyed torturing himself.
This was ridiculous. At twenty-four years old, Connor’s still obsessing over a stupid ex.
Chris had berated Connor a while back for still being so hung up over Kevin. To an outsider, it would’ve been entertaining to see the tiny man trying to be as stern as he was, but his normally kind friend’s sudden change in demeanor did nothing but scare Connor, quite frankly.
He had half the mind to close the page once and for all and forget about it—forget about him. Of course, his lack of effort proved futile and he eventually opted to refresh one last time.
There was one new comment.
Kevin Price: We all gotta get together sometime!
His profile picture was of him, smiling in front of a pleasant-looking nature backdrop. He’d let his hair grow slightly, and his skin wasn’t quite as tan, but that was inevitable. Connor hated that he still looked amazing as ever.
The cursor was hovering over Kevin’s name for God knows how long before Connor made the brave decision to click. He could hear Chris scolding him already.
It seemed underwhelming. To be fair, what was he supposed to expect for someone’s page on a social media platform people his age rarely used anymore? Maybe he assumed the great Kevin Price would be wildly popular and successful by now.
Turns out he was still living in Salt Lake City, working part-time at a bookstore. Scrolling through his timeline showed various photos of events with friends and family, as well as some poems and links to short stories he’d apparently written in his free time. Connor would have to read those sometime.
He sighed.
Connor hated to think that he could ever, possibly, still be in love with Kevin. They’d been through so much, shared things they’d never shared with anyone before. Before the mission, Connor had always believed he’d never find love. Never be worthy of it, until Kevin Price came along and proved him so beautifully wrong. With the way he kissed Connor that first time after a late night of feelings and confessions, or spilled out all his deepest grievances to the person he trusted most in the world. or how he’d hold him close after a Hell Dream whispering, “I’m here, it’s alright. It’ll all be alright.” Connor believed him. He always did.
It amazed him how one person was so easily able to grab his heart and squeeze it so tightly it broke.
Everything had happened so fast. Just a little letter from the Price household one afternoon—the first one Kevin had received since the excommunication. Long overdue, he thought. It’d been a year and a half since it happened, and Kevin’s family was the only one who hadn’t formulated any form of response. Some naive or optimistic part of everyone hoped that to be a good sign.
The letter seemed innocent enough, but upon reading it, Kevin had sprung up and run to his and Arnold’s shared room, with no explanation to Connor or any other of the concerned bystanding Elders. He refused to open the door.
Kevin did come out of the room, soon enough, dry tears on his cheeks, fresh ones streaming from his eyes, and a packed suitcase in his hand that led Connor to a horrible conclusion before any words had left his boyfriend’s mouth.
“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
“What? What do you mean? Kev, talk to me.”
Kevin shook his head. “I thought I’d be able to handle it. But I can’t. I can’t disappoint my family anymore.” His voice was shaking almost as much as he was. “I have to leave. I’m sorry, Con.”
He was the only one who called him Con.
Connor grabbed Kevin’s hand as he turned away and said, “There’s no need to make such drastic decisions. What did the letter say?”
He didn’t say anything, but leaned in to kiss Connor with a force as if it was the last time. Perhaps it was.
“I love you.”
Connor rubbed circles on his boyfriend’s hand against his cheek, whispering past a lump in his throat, “Will I ever see you again?”
An empty, yet honest smile. “One day.”
A relationship that had lasted a year and a half that felt like a lifetime, all over in less than an hour. Really put things into perspective for Connor.
He couldn’t help but think that, maybe, if he was just a bit more persuasive—a little more persistent—then Kevin would’ve stayed. If he sat him down and held him, telling him everything would be alright like Kevin always did for him, they’d be living together right now in Orlando or New York City, or just anywhere they could because he’d feel at home with Kevin no matter what. God, why couldn’t he turn back the clock?
Connor didn’t realize he’d been crying until his sobs brought him back to reality.
The thing is, he’d thought about contacting Kevin before. So many times. If he wasn’t such a coward, he’d have gotten Kevin’s number off of Arnold long ago and attempted to rekindle something. Anything. But he didn’t, and that was likely his biggest downfall.
Besides, if Kevin wanted to take Connor back, he’d contact him himself.
With this, Connor broke down, placing his head on the desk and probably hitting a bunch of random keys in the process. He didn’t care. How was he to care about something so significant when he was suddenly being overwhelmed by all his old emotions coming back to punch him in the face? There was no care for anything. Not the soft whirring of his computer fan, not the papers on his desk getting soaked with tears.
In the end, he closed the page and shut down his computer, letting out a sigh that would sound like relief if it weren’t for the strain.
His eyes remained closed for a while. Not because he was tired, but the room was suddenly too bright for his tear-soaked eyes. Another part of him hoped if he fell asleep now, he’d wake up somewhere completely different. That’d be nice.
His phone buzzed from his pocket.
He didn’t recognize the number, but something was drawing him to answer. Intuition, perhaps, which was silly, but was Connor really in the right mind to think logically? It’s lucky he did pick up, though, because on the other end he heard an unexpected yet heartwarmingly familiar voice.
“Hey, Con.”