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Troye crashes on top of him in their current home for the next couple of days and Connor can feel his heartbeat going faster a little, which is ridiculous. It shouldn’t do that by now, and yeah, it usually doesn’t. Usually being more often than not, if he is completely honest. But no one has to know that. No one has to know that his heart pounds fast in his chest every time Troye says I love you, or kisses him just a little bit longer than necessary. No one has to know just how in love he is with this boy.
But then there are times like right now, when it’s probably only normal for him to feel like this.
When Troye’s debut album is released into the world for everyone to hear and everything is overwhelming right now. Mostly for Troye, but also for Connor.
His song is out in public. The song he’s been secretly listening to every single day ever since Troye played it for him all those months ago. It’s been months and he still remember hearing it for the first time, maybe because every time he listens to it, it feels like the first time. It hits him over and over again. It is them.
He’s memorised the lyrics and the beats and every note of it. The song that was written for him, with him in their mind. Troye’s love for Connor in writing.
So with Troye lying loosely on top of him after a day like today, he cannot help but to feel a little more in love with his boyfriend. One of his hands has found its way under his shirt, to the start of his ribcage and the other a little too close to his eyes. Connor thinks if Troye falls asleep like this, he might poke Connor in the eye in his sleep and that would definitely not make his heart pound faster the same way it does now.
Connor’s one hand tugs at Troye’s curls while the other strokes his arm, the rest of their bodies’ lies completely still and together they breathe in and out and nothing else for minutes. The small kisses he is leaving on Troye’s temple is the only sound he can really hear inside the room.
From outside it’s the usual police sirens and car horns echoing in the distance that are inevitable to escape in a city like New York. But he doesn’t mind it, almost missed it a bit. Europe was more quiet and calm.
Connor can’t exactly make out if Troye is asleep or not, but hopes for the latter. He’d rather not fall asleep in his jeans – again.
“Hey, Troye,”
There’s mumbles coming from Troye as a reply seconds later, incoherent ones and Connor pushes him a little, he’s tired and impatient now. Heartbeat is back to normal.
He tries again, “Babe, don’t fall asleep, I don’t wanna sleep in my clothes again.”
“But warm,” he hears Troye mutter against his shoulder.
They weren’t supposed to be lying like this, Connor was only waiting for Troye to talk to his mom or whoever before coming back to their room. But before he had time to get up, Troye was already on top of him. And it felt too nice. Connor likes having him this close, as close as it gets.
He’s not complaining, not really. It’s just that jeans aren’t always the most comfortable things. Not after what felt like three days of flights and taxi rides and whatnot.
“But uncomfortable,” he protests when Troye doesn’t move. He could easily push him off, Connor knows this. Troye is light as a feather sometimes, especially when tired and nearly asleep. But Connor is also tired, too tired to muster up that strength.
Troye pats his cheek, “M’not,” he mumbles in a small voice and Connor is starting to realise this could take all night.
“So your mom thinks a fall wedding is a great idea, and I-“
“Wait, what?” Troye has one hand on Connor’s chest, pushing himself up and sliding off him at the same time, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. There’s a panic in his eyes. If Connor put his hand on his chest, he’d feel a beating heart like he’d never done before. He feels bad, a little bit, but he laughs at him. He laughs because Troye believes him. So he kisses him, because Troye deserves it.
Connor grins wide, from ear to ear, eyes squinting tight like they do. “Just kidding,” he laughs even more when Troye closes his eyes and breathes out, relieved. His body falls to the mattress when Connor sits up. “Come on, let’s get ready for bed.”
“You really are the worst.”
Connor pretends he didn’t hear, already halfway through the bathroom with his toothbrush in hand. He hears Troye groan into his pillow, sigh loudly and generally moan annoyingly and it makes him smile so big, so much. This boy, this tiny human he once only knew from afar is now his one and only. Connor used to miss Troye constantly, but now there’s no time for missing him. He doesn’t have to do that anymore, and it’s a privilege for him to wake up next to him, fall asleep next to him.
Troye comes into the bathroom, and rest his head against Connor’s shoulder, “So tired, Con,” he explains as Connor watches them through the reflection in the mirror, smiling for himself again. He stops brushing his teeth. Troye breathes in and out slowly against his back. “So, so, so soft,” he whispers slowly against Connor’s ear, almost making it sound like it’s echoing, while his fingers are on his skin, under his shirt.
When he leans down to spit out the toothpaste, Troye follows, his head still leaning against him. Even when rinsing it out with water, Troye follows. Both his hands are pasted against Connor’s skin, fingers moving slowly back and forth over it.
“Are you horny now?” Connor asks with a giggle following, knowing this is how Troye behaves when he is, but then again, this is how he behaves when he’s tired too, or sad. And it would be odd if he was sad, considering what has happened the past, well months really.
“Mmh, maybe. Tired.”
“We, uh, could, if you wanted to?” Maybe not proper, actual sex because Connor is tired too and they don’t have the time to sleep in for too long tomorrow morning, but maybe something. Something easy and quick that’ll satisfy them enough for now.
“You want to?” Troye asks, kisses his shoulder before looking up and meeting Connor’s eyes in the mirror and they both smile a bit, because, it’s so obvious neither of them wants to really. He may be a bit horny but too tired to do anything about it.
“Nah,” he says and hands Troye his toothbrush before leaving him to get undressed.
He hears Troye brush and spit and rinse and he hears Troye pee while getting into bed, waiting with the pillow mushed behind his back and it makes him feel at home in a weird way. He’s always thought that ‘home isn’t always a place; it can be a person’ can’t really be true because home has always been the wooden walls in the hallway in his parents’ house. It’s been the sofa in the basement where he spent all of his teenage years with his friends, it’s been the kitchen he told his mother all his secrets. But it’s also his apartment in LA, every corner of it. Basically, it’s been a place for Connor his whole life. Which is why it’s a little scary that home can be almost whenever now, as long as the right people are with him.
Now it’s hotels in New York or Berlin or Stockholm. It’s Troye’s room in Perth, or even his backyard. Because even though they’re all different places, some he’s never been to before, they all have one thing in common – someone he love.
Connor smiles, a small, tired one when Troye finally comes out from the bathroom and for the second time this night, Troye crashes on top of him, this time stripped down to his underwear. The clothes were left like a trace behind him on his way to the bed. They shuffle around for a bit to get comfortable. Troye’s head in the crock of his neck, one leg over Connor’s and arms wrapped around his waist. Connor tilts down to kiss him.
“Cuddle me to sleep, Frannie,” Troye tells him after the kiss, tired eyes looking up at him, blinking slowly and looking more beautiful than ever before.