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loving conor masters had never been easy.
that’s not to say loving any guy would be easy. it wouldn’t. it just so happened that ned had never loved another guy. or girl, for that matter. in fact, ned wasn’t sure he was capable of love. not a girl, not a guy, and especially not a rugby player at his all boys school where being queer was treated as a punishable offence. he loved the idea of love, and how poets and authors wrote about it, but he really didn’t think he would ever experience it himself.
but within the first few weeks of meeting a certain rugby player and their first few days of friendship, ned found himself head over heels.
it was impossible not to love conor masters, really. with his stupid hair that stuck to his forehead after a game of rugby, and his eyes that automatically closed when he heard a good tune, and his fingers that skillfully played the guitar despite never having played it before he met ned, and the faint lines that appeared on his face when he smiled, ned didn’t stand a chance.
but no one’s perfect. conor came pretty close, but he also had his flaws. like the fact that when he started something, he wouldn’t stop until he finished it. and sure, that might sound like a pro rather than a con, but not when conor would stay on the field until five in the morning at least twice a week to perfect his kicks as if he wasn’t already the best on the damn team (well, ned couldn’t be sure if conor really was the best. the thing about keeping your eyes on the same player for the whole game is that you don’t know how well the others are playing).
this.. gift, because that’s what it was, ned supposed, a gift that meant it was practically impossible for conor to give up until he reached his goal, also applied to music. ned would sit with conor in their hideout for hours as the rugby player plucked guitar strings and attempted to tune the guitar by ear, refusing help all the while. it was so infuriating yet so endearing and while it made ned want to kiss conor silly until he was so distracted they could sneak back into their dorm to sleep, it also made him want to fucking 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘥𝘦 at the same time.
but he didn’t do either. no matter how much he thought about kissing his moron of a roommate, he never did. for all that conor called him brave (”hey ned?” “hey connor.” “how do you never care about what those guys think of you? what they say about you?” “s’pose i’m just used to it. why?” “i think you must be the bravest person i’ve ever met. you’re great, ned. goodnight.” ned didn’t sleep at all that night. his heart was pounding so loud conor probably heard it. fuck.), ned roche was a coward. a big, stupid coward with a big, stupid crush on his big, stupid friend.
ned sighed, and it must’ve been one of his loud, dramatic sighs because conor’s head immediately snapped up.
“what’s up? you okay?” conor questioned, closing his book and throwing it to the side unceremoniously. ned snorted.
“you 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 don’t like this topic, do you?” he asked, thinking back to all the times conor had jumped at the opportunity to do anything but write his poem.
conor rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “no, it’s not— it’s just— it’s so vague! i mean, how the hell am i supposed to write a poem about ‘found family’?” he complained, “sir needs to be way more specific.” ned laughed under his breath and made his way to conor’s bed, sitting down beside him, reaching for the book he threw away and placing it in conor’s lap.
“nooo, ned, c’mon!” he whined, and ned would have laughed and slapped him across the head if conor hadn’t chosen that moment to pull his puppy dog eyes. “can’t we just go to the hide out for a while? please?”
ned had to take a deep breath to resist immediately agreeing. after a few seconds, he shook his head and reached over to open the book. “i’ll help you,” he said, and connor huffed out a breath.
“fine,” he conceded, “but, fair warning, i’m going to need a lot of help.”
“yeah, yeah—” ned started, but was cut off by the feeling of a head, 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘳’𝘴 head, dropping to rest on his shoulder. he must’ve sat there, frozen, for a while because conor started to sit up again, and that was 𝘴𝘰 not what ned wanted. in an act of uncharacteristic bravery, he lifted his arm and placed a hand on conor’s shoulder, urging him to put his head right back where it was.
he felt conor exhale against his neck, clearly relieved. then, he muttered, “hey, ned?”
“hey, conor.” he was rewarded with a swat on the arm.
“how big does a found family have to be?”
ned paused to think. “uh. i guess two or more, right? a single parent and their kid is a family, so the same applies for found family. probably.”
he felt conor smile against him.
“cool,” he said, then, “hand me some paper. oh, and a pen.” ned did, and conor immediately started scribbling away.
“oh, so you don’t need my help anymore?”
“nope,” conor replied, popping the ‘p’. it was so adorable, and their position was so domestic, that ned didn’t think twice befire pressing a quick kiss to the top of conor’s head. he didn’t even realise what he did until he felt conor freeze up against him. “uh—”
“oh, shit.” ned withdrew his arm. “i’m so sorry, conor, oh my god.” he shuffled away. “i wasn’t thinking. sorr—” but then there was a press of warm lips against his own, stopping his rambling as well as all of his thoughts. when he pulled away, conor grinned at him before grabbing ned’s arm (with more force than was necessary, thank you very much) and wrapping it around his shoulder again. ned didnt stop smiling for hours.
later, in conor’s bed when conor was asleep, the boys’ legs intertwined beneath the sheets, ned realised something.
loving his roommate had never been easy. in fact, it was probably one of the hardest things he'd ever done. but now, in this moment, loving conor masters felt just as easy as breathing.