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Connor’s only been dating Evan for a couple of weeks, but he knows when something’s wrong.
Evan’s been thumbing at the bottom of his shirt for so long that Connor’s almost impressed there’s not a hole in it. He’s pretending to write an essay, but there’s been no new words on the page in the past 20 minutes. His leg shakes from under Connor’s desk, a steady thump thump thump that has to hurt his knees. After the third time he goes to bite his nails and Connor stops him by gently grabbing his hand to hold, Connor sighs.
“Alright, dude,” he says. He closes the copy of Moby Dick he’s been pretending to read while watching Evan. “What’s up?”
Evan jumps at the sound of his voice. “What’s - I mean - I don’t know.” He turns to look at Connor and then is very quickly back to staring at the screen. He writes Evan Hansen at the top, which Connor guesses is progress.
“Ev, come on,” Connor says. He gently whacks the back of Evan’s arm with the book and Evan winces. “Dude. Talk to me.”
Evan worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “I just. Okay.” He takes his hands off of the keyboard and sits on the bed next to Connor. “I have-I have to tell you something.”
Connor’s heart falls to his stomach. Evan’s breaking up with him. He knew it was only a matter of time before Evan realized he was too good for Connor, too kind, too patient, too compassionate.
“I’m transgender,” Evan says, and then he squeezes his eyes shut like he’s preparing for a blow.
Connor doesn’t mean to laugh. But he does.
Evan opens his eyes to frown at him. “I’m n-not joking,” he says.
Evan curls in on himself and Connor puts a gentle hand on his knee. “Okay, I’m sorry, Evan, I didn’t mean to laugh at you,” he says. Evan doesn’t look up at him, keeps his gaze fixed on Connor’s hand on his knee, so Connor elaborates: “I knew that.”
Evan’s eyes dart up to meet Connor’s. “You did?”
“Duh,” Connor answers. “We were in the same class in first grade. Of course I knew.”
“I didn’t know you remembered that,” Evan says quietly. He goes to pick at a hangnail, but Connor grabs his hand to stop him. “You don’t-” Evan lets out a shaky breath. He looks a little like he might vomit. “You don’t mind?”
“Ev,” Connor breathes. He’s at a loss for words. He’s never been good at communicating his feelings, and he doesn’t know how to relay to Evan that of course he doesn’t mind, he likes (read: loves, but it’s a little too early for that) Evan for who he is, not because Evan thought Connor thought he was cis. “Come here,” he says instead.
He lays down on his bed and Evan follows. Connor pulls him down so that Evan’s next to him, his head resting against Connor’s chest. Connor kisses the top of Evan’s head and wraps his arms around Evan’s waist to hold him tight. Evan breathes out a sigh of relief and Connor smiles to himself. This is something he’s learned since dating Evan: a good cuddle’s enough to quiet his mind for a bit.
“Alright, here’s the game plan,” Connor says. He brings one hand up to massage Evan’s skull. Evan melts, lets out a soft noise akin to a moan that gives Connor goosebumps. “We’ll cuddle for a bit. And then I’ll make some pizza bagels and we can sit on the couch and watch The Breakfast Club , because it’s a travesty that you haven’t seen it.”
Evan smiles. “H-heteronormative bullshit,” he whispers.
“I know, that’s the best part,” Connor argues. “We get to make fun of the straights.”
Evan laughs softly. He moves so that they can face each other. From up close, his eyes are big and bright, like a Disney prince. There are dark circles under his eyes from sleepless nights worried about a variety of things, cheeks that turn bright red whenever he’s embarrassed. He’s easily the most beautiful person Connor’s ever seen.
“Thank you,” Evan says.
Connor rolls his eyes. “For what? Not being a douchebag?”
Evan sighs. “Connor.”
“I know,” Connor answers. Evan’s admittedly not the easiest person to deal with, but Connor would like to think he’s doing a pretty good job. He’s not easy to handle, either. And besides, the good far outweighs the bad. He would talk Evan through a million panic attacks if it meant the chance to make him smile even once. “Thank you, too.”
Evan doesn’t answer. He leans forward to kiss Connor instead. Kissing Evan is a thing Connor still isn’t quite used to; how Evan puts everything into a kiss, how it seems like he wants to express everything at once, how sometimes he’ll melt against Connor and how always, he seems just a little bit lighter afterwards.
Connor pulls back after a second and motions for Evan to roll onto the stomach. Evan does and Connor straddles him. “Shut up and let me work,” he says as he starts to massage Evan’s shoulders, releasing the tightness there. Evan sighs as he does and closes his eyes, drifting away.
Connor shows up the next day with only a vague understanding of Moby Dick , but Evan catches his eye from across English class and smiles and it’s all worth it.