Work Text:
2016
"Happy Valentine’s Day," Connor says for what feels like the millionth time this afternoon, his smile stiff and uncomfortable on his face. It has been way too long since he used his cheery, maybe somewhat fanatic missionary smile; his cheek muscles simply aren't used to it anymore. But he has found that after handing out roses to disinterested students on campus all afternoon, it is difficult to hold on to a genuine smile for more than a few minutes at a time.
"Err," the most recent recipient of a rose says hesitantly. "Thank you?"
Connor's eyes widen as he takes a better look at the tall boy. "Oh. Hello."
He knows, of course, that Kevin Price attends the same university as him, but with Kevin over at the university hospital most of the time these days they don’t run into each other very often, and their few attempts to organize former-missionary-meet-ups had always failed either way, until they had simply given up altogether and stopped trying to get in contact with each other.
"Hey," Kevin replies, fiddling with the red rose in his hand, looking as though he is wondering what he is supposed to do with it, and Connor had forgotten just how tall Kevin Price is, how his eyes are such a warm shade of brown, and Connor seriously has been single for way too long if he is starting to notice these things about an old friend. When Kevin smiles he only looks a little awkward, however. "Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, I guess."
"Thanks," Connor says automatically, grappling for something more to say. "How's residency going?"
Because either Kevin has gained a sudden fondness for hideous-yet-probably-incredibly-ergonomic shoes, or he has started working at a job where he is on his feet eight hours a day. Either is probable, but those are probably scrubs under Kevin's heavy winter coat, so Connor is pretty confident in his assumption.
Kevin blinks. "Fine." He shifts on his feet, tucking his hands deep into his pockets, bringing the rose with him to peek out from his jacket. "Messier than I could have imagined, but pretty good." He squints over Connor's shoulder and reads aloud from the plaque behind him. "Gay-straight student alliance?"
Connor tries to ignore the butterflies that suddenly start to flutter in his chest and stomach because yeah, he never did come out to any of his former missionary friends, did he? In retrospect they all probably already knew, but that is a finished part of Connor's life by now and he had never been sure what any of their real opinions had been. Most of them had probably been taught that homosexuality is a sin, the same way Connor had been. "It's new. I'm one of the founders."
"Oh," Kevin says simply, then stands up straighter and smiles slightly again. "Good for you then."
Kevin has got such a good smile, Connor reflects. He looks older than Connor remembers, too, but in a good way, like he is somehow calmer but also more satisfied. Even so, Connor finds himself wondering if Kevin’s eyes still sometimes light up with that spark he used to have whenever he was passionate about something. It is so hard to tell because the longer he looks at him, the more Connor realizes that Kevin looks pretty tired. He bites his lip to stop his increasingly personal thoughts. "So, what are you doing over on my side of the campus?"
Kevin smiles at Connor's playfully territorial emphasis on the words. "Getting a late lunch. If I have to eat the chicken salads at the hospital cafeteria one more day, I'll probably go crazy."
Connor nods sympathetically even though he has never tried those particular chicken salads. “Want company?”
"Oh." Kevin looks down at his scrubs. "I was just going to pick something up, but..."
"Oh that's okay." It's not like Connor had been asking him out on a date or anything. No need to get disappointed.
Kevin looks at him for a moment, just a little longer than might be usual and with an expression that Connor can't quite interpret, but it makes his cheeks heat up. "Well," he says. "If you're not too busy spreading Valentine’s Day love?"
Connor looks down at the bunch of roses still in his hand, then shrugs. "I've been at it since ten this morning. I think I can leave it to my co-founders for a while."
"If you're sure," Kevin says easily, and waits with his hands tucked in his pockets while Connor hands over his roses to Katy (who wags her eyebrows at him until he hits her arm). It’s not a date, of course, but he still can’t help but wish that there was a mirror nearby to check just how red his nose is from standing outside in the cold all day, how wind-mussed his hair has gotten.
He straightens his jacket, feels for his wallet in his pocket just to make sure he brought it with him, and smiles. “Well, let’s go!”
2017
"Let me get this straight," Poptarts says slowly, and the cynical side that Connor has developed over the past couple of years is trying very hard not to snort at that phrase being said in relation to him. "Since we last spoke you have come out as a... a homosexual, dated Kevin Price, broke up with him, and are now crying over being dateless on Valentine’s Day?"
"You wouldn't understand," Connor mutters. As far as he knows, Poptarts had only ever dated one single girl in his entire life, a girl that he had also married and lost his virginity to, on his wedding night a couple of months ago.
“You dated Kevin Price?” Poptarts says again, incredulously. “I didn’t think…well. Didn’t you have a crush on him like, forever?”
Connor feels his cheeks heat up. “Was it that obvious?”
Poptarts shrugs, carefully neutral, and avoids Connor’s eyes. “So, why did you break up with him?”
Connor stares down at his iced tea. “Plenty of reasons. And I’m not crying, by the way.”
“Right.” Poptarts swallows the last of the water in his glass. “Do you miss him?”
“He’s a self-absorbed ass,” Connor says, and when Poptarts keeps looking at him, he holds up his hands. “Yes, I miss him! He’s a dork. He’s incredible! He has serious intimacy issues!”
“I don’t know what to say to that,” Poptarts mutters, shaking his head as if to clear it from an unpleasant thought. “But if you miss him, call him, I guess.”
Connor winces. He is not sure who had been the nastiest during their final argument, but he guesses it might have been him. Kevin might be more… explosive, once he gets riled up enough, but he is never calculating or intentionally mean, the way Connor knows that he can sometimes be. He doesn’t like to think about some of the things he had said. “Do you really think that I should?”
“I don’t know.” Poptarts looks at him blankly. “You tell me.”
Kevin nervously biting his lip right before they start kissing, his forehead creased in a frown. His breath hitching when they hug, as though it is somehow more than Kevin could ever have imagined. The tone of his voice when he gets excited about something and just can’t stop talking about it. His smile, wide and genuine, and Connor is way too old to get butterflied in his stomach from another boy’s smile, but he still always does.
He looks at the table morosely. “Maybe I will.” He glances up at Poptarts, suddenly feeling somewhat shy. “Sorry for complaining.”
Poptarts shakes his head again, a hint of a smile on his face. “That’s fine. Just… Kevin Price?”
“I know,” Connor says smugly, grinning when Poptarts rolls his eyes.
2018
Connor doesn't know how long he has been in the process of waking up before his mind fully comprehends the red numbers on the clock radio that glare at him through the darkness. He shifts under the covers, straightens his legs, and doesn't even mind being awake in the middle of the night because it is technically Sunday and for once, Kevin isn't working this weekend.
"Hey," he says, shuffling closer to the warm body beside him. "You awake?"
Kevin's quiet snore shouldn't be as cute as it is, making Connor grin while he curls up close, burrowing his face into the nape of Kevin's neck. "Hey, wake up. It's Valentine's Day."
"Mnn." Kevin moves for the first time, shifting his shoulders and moving one arm to rest over Connor's waist. He mutters something unintelligible, then, something that probably is, "Happy Valentine's Day."
He is warm and sleepy in the best of ways, and he is beyond the thought of love, really, because it has become something more, something a little bit scary and very, very satisfying. "You too."
Kevin yawns, enough to make Connor scrunch his nose up at the smell of sleepy morning breath. "What time is it?"
"Uhm." Connor glances at the clock again, feeling a stich of guilt. "Four thirty-two. Sorry?"
"S'fine." Kevin yawns again. "This is our first Valentine's Day together, I guess."
"Our first date was on Valentine's Day," Connor protests.
"...I didn't know that was a date at the time," Kevin says. "I was just, really hungry."
Connor can feel his heartbeat where his lower arm is curled up against Kevin's chest, slow and steady and comforting. “It was a good first date.”
“I had cleaned up vomit that entire morning. I wasn’t in a very romantic mindset.”
“I gave you a rose.”
“You gave hundreds of people roses.”
“Well, maybe not hundreds.” Connor is so, so tempted to dip his fingers beneath the waistband of Kevin’s boxer briefs, barely manages to restrain himself because he knows that this is not what Kevin wants, most of the time. Which sucks, in a way, but Connor will take it. He would be willing to deal with a lot of things, if it means he will get to wake up next to Kevin Price every morning. Or every morning when Kevin is not already a work, at the very least. Nothing is perfect.
So instead he slides his hand up under Kevin’s shirt, enjoying the warmth of his skin against his palm.
Kevin sighs, pleased. “I’ve got a gift for you.”
Connor stills. “What is it?”
“It’s a surprise,” Kevin says smugly. “You’ll see in the morning.”
“It is morning,” Connor tries hopefully, tracing his fingers over Kevin’s back, feeling Kevin’s arm tighten around his waist in some sort of sleepy half-hug.
“It’s still dark outside.” Connor is still nuzzled against Kevin’s throat and can’t see his face, but he can practically hear the wave of sleepiness that is coming over his boyfriend again, making his words slow and sated. “You’ll have to wait.”
“Fine,” Connor mumbles, leaning close enough to feel Kevin’s skin against his lips when he speaks. “Sleep well.”
“Y’too,” Kevin replies with a sleepy sigh, and Connor can feel the moment when his boyfriend slips off again, his body relaxing, one leg kicking out in some sort of sleepy reflex. And Connor curls even closer, warm and relaxed and pleased, and there is a piece of a song drifting through his mind, all sweet and thoughtful, I found a thrill to press my cheek to, and Connor falls asleep to the memory of that tune and the promise of an even better morning.