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Chapter Text

Growing up, Connor had always built up this idea of 'Moving Into College' in his head. It was just one of those experiences that he'd been waiting for since he was little, up there with Making Valedictorian and Serving a Perfect Mission.

Only, he'd made salutatorian rather than valedictorian and his mission was cut short after the whole... failing as district leader and helping to accidentally create a new religion thing. So perhaps he should have learnt to expect disappointment by the time move-in day came. It wasn't the happy, fun-for-the-whole-family scene he'd expected — just him, his trusty pink suitcase, and a couple of Target's finest storage bins that had made the trip from Utah with him once he'd come back from Uganda (and promptly had to leave, after being kicked out). 

All of this to say, Connor was feeling pretty down about the state of affairs when he turned up to the first event of Welcome Week. Getting roped into a 'friendly' conversation with the LDS student association didn't exactly help his mood. Perhaps the whole 21-year-old freshman thing put a target on his back, like somehow they knew he'd been on a mission and that made him the ideal candidate to keep pushing God on even more naive freshmen. Or maybe it was the hopeless look on his face that made him ideal prey, because the guy immediately walked over to Connor like some kind of parent who wanted to check in on their delinquent child. Did he really have that look about him now?

"Do you feel like you could use a little extra support starting at college?" the man asked, coming up to Connor so quickly that it almost gave him whiplash. He was dressed pretty casually in shorts and a UF Gator bait shirt, save for the missionary name tag pinned on his chest. Connor could barely believe Elder Mitchell decided to keep his badge, let alone wear it out for the societies fair, but then he remembered that not everyone's missions ended in disaster.

Connor blinked at the man. The entire exchange felt a little like déjà vu, although being on the receiving end felt even weirder. "Uh... No? Not really?" he replied, trying his best not to sound like a complete asshole.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? I have this Book of Mormon you can take, it can be really useful to have some spiritual guidance when you're going through a big change." he said, brandishing his book with a rehearsed smile.

"I've actually just returned from my mission, so no, but thank you." Connor gave a quick smile as he attempted to move away. The hand catching his arm led him to believe that Elder Mitchell had other plans, which sent Connor's patience out the window.

"Oh, that's amazing! I'm sure you'd be a great fit to join us then, I'd love to put your name down for our mailing list? Serving in God's will was such an honour for me, I'd really recommend staying involved while at college."

"No, thank you." Connor grimaced. The man's persistence was seriously beginning to get on his nerves.

"Are you sure?" Elder Mitchell continued, still beaming despite Connor's growing annoyance. "There are people here who know what God wants us to do, you might want to have a chat sometime."

And that was all it took. A few words were all it took to set Connor over the edge. As much as he tried to maintain some level of politeness, the idea that God wanted a bunch of barely-post-pubescent teenagers to go and prey on desperate people in His name was laughable now. "You don't have any right to tell me that you know what God wants for us. There's a reason I'm not interested after my mission, because so many horrible things happened to the villagers out there — and they were good people! Good people who were sick, who suffered violence for no reason! Do not tell me God wants us to go and lie to them, that the Book of Mormon will fix everything. The Church still thinks I deserve to be alone for the rest of my life for being gay, so no, I don't want to take your advice on what God wants me to do!"

And at last, something that shut Elder Mitchell right up. Connor hadn't meant to shout, but there it was. His anger seemed to have shocked the man into silence. He took that as his cue to stalk away, tugging his arm out of the taller man's grip with a huff. The only benefit of there being such a crowd on the Union Lawn was that his outburst only really reached the few surrounding stalls. It was easy enough for him to slip back into anonymity, only now in a much worse mood than earlier. 

He kept his head down and his pace quick as possible, making a beeline for the end of the field. Just a couple more tables and he'd be out onto the road, free to go back to his room and sit and mope for a while until his roommate appeared. 

Connor's luck had never been the best, though. As he drew towards the pavement, another person emerged from the crowd towards him, making Connor stop dead in his tracks. The boy's costume looked familiar, though he couldn't place the face anywhere. However, the flyer in his hands, slowly being pushed towards him, just made Connor sigh.

“Hey! Do you wanna be a hero for a day? We’re looking for new volunteers for—”

"Please leave me the fuck alone." Connor snapped, stepping around the costumed man and picking up the pace back to his room. 

If he could just hide under his covers for ten minutes before the inevitable roommate knock sounded, he would be able to deal with this situation rationally. Maybe then, he could even continue unpacking, or give Chris a call, anything to delay facing the world again for the rest of the day.

It turned out that hiding under his covers couldn't really happen, seeing as Connor hadn't unpacked them yet. The morning's events had pissed him off so much that he didn't particularly have the will to unpack now either, so his plan devolved into lying on the bare mattress and waiting for a reply on his, Chris' and Arnold's group chat. 

The ceiling was dark, the curtains pulled back to reveal the early afternoon sun. The air inside the dormitory smelled like stale laundry, the sounds from outside the window muffled and distant. All Connor could really hear was the faint buzzing of electricity, and the occasional rattling of suitcases being wheeled down the corridor outside. He entertained the idea of getting up each time one passed, but facing the world still didn't appeal to him all that much. His annoyance at the elder had dissipated by now, instead having turned into guilt, gnawing at his gut, for telling the other man to fuck off.

In Connor's defense, he really didn't need any sort of fraternity or roleplay society forced onto him; he got enough of that from Arnold. But at the same time, the guy had nothing to do with the Church. College was just awful so far. He wasn't sure it would have been much better with his parents, but he'd at least have some company rather than the four walls and empty bed opposite him. 

His phone vibrated, breaking the stillness of the silence around him. For just a moment, Connor considered ignoring the call, as a lump built up in his throat. He knew if he answered, there'd be nothing stopping the tears from falling, and if crying within a couple hours of arriving at college wasn't the stupidest thing ever, then he didn't know what was.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to talk with somebody who understood. Connor picked his phone up from where he'd dropped it face-down onto the bed, glaring at Chris' name as if that would answer the call for him. He wasn't even mad at Chris; he didn't know why answering his call felt so hard.

But apparently the universe was with him for once, and decided to throw him a bone in the form of a loud knock on his door. Connor groaned as he sat up on the edge of his mattress, seriously debating if he should pretend to be asleep until the knocking stopped. He rubbed at his eyes to stem the tears, though that didn't stop the main problem with his plan: he still didn't have any sheets to pretend to be asleep under.

So his decision was made for him when he heard the key slot into the lock. Wiping at his eyes with his shirt sleeve, Connor stood, tucking his phone away. He didn't exactly have much time to mentally prepare, but he'd take what he could get. The door eventually swung open to reveal his roommate and, Christ, you'd think after being excommunicated and disowned, Connor would get a little sympathy from the powers that be. But no. Of course, out of all of the freshmen starting at UF that year, Connor would magically end up rooming with someone he knew.

Not just 'someone he knew' either, Steve Blade.

His Steve Blade.

Okay, not his , obviously, but — his first crush. Of course Connor’s reintroduction to Steve after his (very forceful) rejection of them going to prom together in order to go with Sariah Young had to be now, when he was about to burst into tears.

Of course someone else from his ward had had the exact same idea to move over 2000 miles away from Utah for college. But why the fuck would Steve Blade pick one of the LGBT+ residence buildings to live in anyway? Since when was that a thing? And why couldn’t it have happened when they were sixteen?

"Hey, they said my roomie had moved in already, it’s super cool to meet you! I’m- oh my gosh, are you okay?" 

Connor stood dumbfounded as Steve spoke, apparently still as hyperactive as ever, though he wasn't sure if the other had recognised him yet. He'd clearly recognised the fact his eyes were still red-rimmed at least.

"Do you want me to leave? I can leave, don't even worry about it."

"No! No," Connor interrupted, hand coming to cover his mouth as he shouted again. "Sorry, it's just- I've had a rough start, I was actually just going to head out and call a friend anyway, it was nice to meet you?" he insisted, regretting that decision when he realised he had to squeeze past Steve in the doorway just to escape. Still, he'd rather save his official reintroduction to his gay awakening for another time when he's not about to sob, so... Connor would wager that shimmying past Steve and his bags was less embarrassing for then.

At least this way, nobody had to witness his breakdown.

Steve nodded hesitantly, turning to walk further into the room. It only occurred to Connor when he was halfway down the hall that he hadn't grabbed his keycard, but hopefully Steve would be in when he got back. He meandered down to the building's lobby, which was thankfully less busy now most of the morning move-ins were out of the way. The UF blue and orange colour scheme still wasn't exactly his favourite, but the blue pleather sofa had kind of grown on him. Sure, it was definitely tacky, but it was the kind of tackiness Connor had expected from 'Moving Into College' all his life, so he'd take it at this point. 

The couch deflated a little as Connor sank into it. He pulled his phone out and pressed on the missed call notification now he was a little further away from bursting into tears. It only took two rings for his companion to pick up — he'd always been better at things like that.

"Hello?" The sound of Chris' voice helped pull him out of the spiral of his own thoughts. Connor tried not to look too pleased.

"Hey, sorry I missed you," Connor said, leaning back against the cushions as he began tapping his fingers against his leg absentmindedly. Chris was silent on the other end, prompting Connor to elaborate. "You just caught me at a bad time. Moved into my new dorm today… but uh, you already know that? Yeah, no, I told you that, it's just…" he paused, taking a deep breath.

"It's just...?" 

"I know we're not exactly math majors, but the odds of my roommate being my childhood crush are supposed to be pretty low, right?" Connor heard Chris attempt to reply, but now that he'd started speaking, it was like everything had to come out of him at once. "Because I'm kind of a wreck, and I cursed at some guy today just because some ex-missionary started trying to drag me back in at the welcome fair, but the guy I told to leave me the fuck alone wasn't even anything to do with the Church! So I felt horrible enough anyway, and I can't even lie in bed and cry because I haven't unpacked yet, and my roommate is stupid fucking Steve Blade of all people! I feel like I'm failing at college already, and classes haven't even started yet." he finished with a groan, sliding a little further down the couch with a pout. The sight of him definitely looked ridiculous, but Connor felt within his rights to at least act like a bit of a child, all things considered. 

Chris sighed on the other side of the line. "Okay. Um, that's kind of a lot. I know saying 'calm down' sounds obvious but really try and relax, okay? Sure, it's not... ideal, but you haven't seen each other for years. Steve's probably changed just as much as you have. Yeah?" 

There was an awkward pause, before Connor realised Chris was waiting for a response. "...yeah," he repeated, nodding slightly to himself as he let out a soft sigh.

"Don't worry about it that much, I promise. Same for the guy you told to fuck off. You know how many people they meet in welcome weeks? Thousands. You're literally never going to see him again, and in the nicest way possible, he'll have forgotten about you by next weekend, so breathe."

Sometimes it was annoying how much Chris was right. Even when Connor was district leader, Chris was more rational, less... prone to ridiculous breakdowns. (Though having breakdowns over being sent to a country where being gay could get him sent to prison or beaten felt pretty rational to Connor.)

"...Yeah. You're right. That's fair. Sorry for bothering you, I think I just... needed a moment. You know?" Connor admitted, wincing as his nail left scratch marks in the fabric of the couch. At least there was no one else in the lobby to call him out on it. He could hear Chris' smile through the phone.

"Don't mention it, Connor. I already told you I'd be down there if you needed me, this isn't bothering me. Now go unpack so you can at least have a bed to sleep in tonight, and let me know the drama with Steve when you've actually spoken to the guy. Okay?"

"Okay. Thank you. Bye, Chris." Connor couldn't help but smile despite himself then.  Maybe he'd be able to face Steve properly now, maybe not, but at least talking to Chris had given him something else to focus on besides his shitty roommate situation, and the fact that the world seemed determined to knock him down at every step since he turned nineteen. He hung up the phone and pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the way his knees wobbled beneath him as he trudged across the lobby towards the elevator. 

There was nothing Connor hated more than feeling weak. Not only did it remind him of before his mission, when he'd been assigned district leader and the constant anxiety of not living up to everyone else' expectations had consumed him, but it also reminded him of how absolutely powerless he'd felt when he had lost everything on his return to Utah. There was no way he could let stupid fucking Steve Blade make him feel as bad as his family did.

When he finally made it back up to the fourth floor, Connor could hear noise coming from his room before the door was even in sight. Perfect. Not only was Steve his roommate, he was apparently also a social butterfly with absolutely no concerns about making friends, or bringing said friends back to their room without asking Connor. Great. Wonderful. Fantastic. A whole year of this. 

(The rational part of Connor's brain reminded him that Steve couldn't have asked even if he wanted to, seeing as Connor had rushed off without leaving his number or anything. Connor chose to ignore that fact.)

As he came to the door, Connor took a moment to recompose himself. The fact Steve was in there was kind of a saving grace; at least he wouldn't have to go and explain to the RA that he'd locked himself out already.  Taking in a steadying breath, Connor raised a fist and knocked, hearing a muffled curse come from behind the door. He waited for a moment, and after Steve yelled to say it was open, Connor opened the door tentatively.

Given the curses, Connor had to admit he'd kind of expected to walk in on some sort of sex scene, so he was counting everyone in the room being clothed as a win. He hated to admit it, but the way Steve had decorated his side of the room was actually kind of... nice? He didn't hate it. Maybe that was on him for expecting some sort of straight-football-golf-Mormon-themed decor. Steve was sharing a room with him in the LGBT+ residence complex, so Connor really needed to get over that assumption.

It was weird, the little things he remembered from the Blade household. Steve still had the same battered violin case that their orchestra director had been picking on him to replace since sophomore year and, judging by the posters on the wall, his taste in awful action movies hadn't changed. The green and blue beanbags by Steve's bed had been their usual hangout back home, and he could still pick himself out in some of the pictures hanging above the other's bed.

Connor didn't want to dwell on it though. This was different, they weren't sixteen anymore, and they weren't in Utah — for better or for worse. Even if it felt a little terrifying to be dropped in like this, there were more pressing things to deal with, such as the guy currently occupying the other beanbag.

"Uh. Hi? I'm Connor, I-" he started as the man turned around, only for his stomach to drop when he realised who said man was.

He was going to kill Chris. He'd definitely jinxed him. Of course Steve somehow had to be friends with the guy Connor had told to fuck off earlier.  And now he was here, looking at Connor as he stood in the doorway with wide eyes.

"You—" Connor managed to choke out instead, quickly sitting down on his bed. Welcome Fair Guy (as he'd mentally been christened) didn't seem to care, as he smiled back warmly. The tinny Animal Crossing music coming from the Switch in Steve's hands wasn't as relaxing as Connor assumed it was supposed to be.

"Oh my God," he groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "I am so sorry for cursing at you earlier."

"Sorry, what? " Steve snorted, muting the Switch as he looked between Connor and his friend. "You swore at Kevin? When was this?"

Connor didn't really see what was so funny about it, but at least Welcome Fair Guy had a name now. He glanced back over to Kevin guiltily, and the sight of him getting to his feet and packing up made him feel even worse. "Earlier. At the fair thing. I had a bad morning, in my defense. Some Mormons tried to... re-convert me, I think, and it was just a mess, so. Sorry." 

"I could tell you were having a bad morning. Don't mention it." Kevin spoke as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, moving towards the door. "Text you later, Steve?" 

Kevin's dry response didn't exactly make Connor feel better, but he didn't really have much time to reflect on it before his brain registered that he was being left alone in his new room with stupid fucking (and now apparently gay!) Steve Blade. 

Chapter Text

Connor didn’t know how long he had hovered in the center of the room, debating his options. He could have left again, but storming out twice in one day was a little much, even for him. He could have slept somewhere else, but the logistics were a little sketchy. Maybe he could have found some other unsuspecting freshman and pretended to be their roommate for a night. Or slept in one of the study lounges, though knowing his luck, some overly friendly RA would find him and try to ‘check in on him’ like he was some kind of lost puppy.

His stomach twisted at the thought of that kind of pity.

Steve spoke up before he could come to a decision. “Connor.”

“Steve.”

There was a beat.

Steve was sprawled in his stupid beanbag chair, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in mild amusement, like he was enjoying the show. His posture was lazy, comfortable in a way Connor could never quite seem to manage anymore, as if nothing in the world could truly rattle him.

“Dude,” Steve said, tilting his head slightly. “Are you good?”

“Not remotely.”

Connor exhaled sharply, like he was deflating. His shoulders dropped, and suddenly, he was keenly aware of how out of place he felt in his own dorm. He glanced between his bed, the desk chairs, the empty beanbag next to Steve’s, unsure where exactly he was supposed to exist in this space. He didn’t fit there. Not anymore. But Steve — Steve didn’t seem to care what he did. His expression didn’t shift into judgment or impatience, just mild curiosity. So, Connor lowered himself down cautiously next to him, as if Steve might bite.

(And, oh, what a thought that would have been four years ago.)

Steve smirked, stretching his arms over his head, and Connor absolutely did not take note of how his shirt rode up. “So,” he drawled, “you wanna tell me what the hell all… this is about?”

Connor dragged a hand down his face. “I had a really shitty day.”

Steve nodded sagely. “Yeah. Yeah, I got that vibe.”

That was all it took for everything to spill out.

The argument with Elder Mitchell and the student association. Having to justify himself, over and over, against people who weren’t really listening, just parroting the same stiff, rehearsed lines that made him feel like he was screaming into a void. The way his voice had started shaking, how his hands had curled into fists at his sides, fingernails digging into his palms to keep from saying something that would make it worse.

And then, storming away, too angry to think straight, only to have some guy shove a flyer in his face. The snap decision, the words that had left his mouth before he could stop them. The moment he’d realized exactly who was standing there in his room.

Connor expected Steve to cut in at some point. To say something dismissive, tell him he was overreacting, point out all the ways he could have handled it better. Hell, maybe even throw in a ‘you’re going to hell’ joke for old times’ sake. But Steve just… listened. It was such a bizarre déjà vu that Connor almost didn’t know how to react. It took him back to long nights on the phone, when Connor’s only real worry was if his parents would notice the muffled murmurs from beneath his covers. Steve on the other end, lying on his own bed, staring at the ceiling, listening without interruption while Connor rambled about whatever minor crisis had seemed insurmountable at seventeen. The thought was almost enough to make his chest ache.

When Connor finally trailed off, exhausted, Steve leaned back into his beanbag too, fingers drumming idly against his knee. “Well,” he said. “That sucks.”

Connor let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Thanks for the insight, Captain Obvious. Very astute.”

Steve grinned, but it faded quickly. “I’m sorry about your mission,” he said, quieter now. “I mean– I heard, kinda. Not everything, but still.”

Connor stiffened. His jaw tensed automatically, and he lifted a hand in protest before Steve could go any further. “It’s fine, Steve.” He forced a short, humorless smile. “At least one of us had a good time.”

“—Which just makes me feel worse about it.”

“Don’t.” Connor shook his head. “I wouldn’t wish my mission on anyone.”

Steve studied him, like he wanted to argue, like that’s not the point , but he let it go. “Okay. So… what else is new?”

Connor hesitated. There was still one massive, unavoidable elephant in the room.

“I mean, can we address the giant elephant in the room first?” He gestured vaguely toward Steve. It probably wasn't the most appropriate way to bring it up, but he could barely help himself. “You’re gay now?”

Steve snorted. “Bi. And I guess technically I always was, but sure.”

Connor’s stomach clenched. It was hard to tell whether he wanted to laugh or cry, so he settled for biting his tongue. Hearing Steve say he was always bi only made him want to retort with some variant of that’s not what you said when I asked you to prom , but the more sensible part of his brain pointed out that that was unfair. It wasn’t like he’d had it all figured out at seventeen either.

“You know,” Connor wasn’t sure why he was admitting this now — perhaps it was the second biggest elephant in the room. “I always had a crush on you.”

Steve snorted again. That— that didn’t help. Even if Connor was long over it, it was still mortifying. But then he realized Steve wasn’t actually laughing at him. He was staring. Studying him.

“Are you serious?

“Yes, why would I joke about that?!” Connor exclaimed.

A beat. Steve blinked at him, then suddenly broke into laughter.

“Dude, I know. I knew . Everyone knew.”

Connor’s mouth dropped open. He felt heat rush to his face as he shoved Steve’s shoulder, ignoring how solid he still was under his stupid soft hoodie. “Everyone did not know!”

Steve gave him a look, the kind that suggested he was being willfully ignorant. “You asked me to prom.”

“As friends !”

Steve just raised an eyebrow, and, okay, fine, maybe it wasn’t the best defense.

“Okay, whatever,” Connor muttered. He crossed his arms, willing his face to cool down. “But my point is, I’m over it.”

Steve let out a dramatic sigh, tilting his head with a faux-wounded expression. “You moved on from me that quickly? I’m hurt, McKinley.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “I’m saying I’m not going to make things weird!”

And if the crush reared its head a little bit as Steve winked and said, “I can’t promise the same thing. You haven’t even properly spoken to Kevin yet,” then that was Connor’s business alone.

*

Kevin was at their door at 8 a.m. the following morning, which was horrifying for multiple reasons. First, Connor had been off missionary time for months now, and waking up that early felt vaguely criminal. Second, there was no way Steve had the nerve to sleep through five whole minutes of knocking while Connor sat there, staring at the door like it was a personal attack.

At first, he ignored it. If Steve wasn’t getting up, then Connor wasn’t getting up. He wasn’t even awake enough to be embarrassed about his mess of hair, or the fact that he was still in an old T-shirt that had a very unfortunate tear in the sleeve. The knocking could be someone else’s problem.

Then Kevin started singing.

Not real singing, no, that would have been too bearable. Instead, Kevin was chanting (if you could even call it that) Steve’s name through the door in increasingly unhinged voices. Connor sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and rubbed his temples. If this was how his morning was starting, he wasn’t sure he’d survive the rest of the day.

With a reluctant sigh, he forced himself to his feet and cracked the door open. “Do you mind?”

Kevin’s mouth snapped shut. His face turned an unmistakable shade of red, and if a totally different crush started to rear its head at that moment, then once again, that was for Connor and Connor alone to know.

“I—”

“You what?” Connor prompted, raising an eyebrow.

Kevin floundered, shifting his weight. “I forgot roommates meant you’d actually be sleeping in the same room.”

“You know, most people apologize when they wake someone up this early.” Connor exhaled through his nose, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Kevin paused before breaking into a teasing grin, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. “You did swear at me yesterday. I’d say we’re even.”

Connor groaned, already feeling the warmth creeping up his neck. “That was– it was a bad day! I don’t usually– ” he cut himself off, narrowing his eyes. Kevin was enjoying this way too much. He stepped aside with a groan, dragging a hand through his hair as he sat back on his bed. “Ugh. Just come in. Listen, I’m really sorry about yesterday,” he started, still waking up. “I had a shitty day. Some people tried to convert me. Or re-convert me, I guess– I don’t know. The point is that I just–”

A sudden jab of a finger into his side cut him off. A jolt shot through him, and before Connor could stop himself, a startled squeak escaped his mouth.

Kevin immediately burst into laughter, cackling so hard he had to lower himself into a beanbag while doubled over. His shoulders shook, his head practically buried in his hands. Connor could only stare, mortified. It wasn’t the fact that Kevin had poked him, although that was a little uncalled for. It was the way he was losing his mind over it. Plus the green beanbag had always been Connor’s before, and watching Kevin sink into it gave him this weird knot of ‘oh, me and Steve really have grown up without each other’ in his stomach.

“What was that for?” he demanded, voice a little sharper than intended.

“You were kind of spiraling,” Kevin managed between wheezes. He sucked in a breath. “It felt like the most efficient way to fix it.”

Connor wanted to be annoyed. Really. But it was hard to hold onto irritation when Kevin was so thoroughly entertained, and okay, fine, maybe he had been spiraling. But before he could get a retort out, a groggy voice mumbled from across the room.

“What the fuck are you two doing?”

Connor turned. Steve was awake, barely. He was still half-buried in his pillow, voice thick with sleep, squinting at them with exactly the amount of judgment one should have when awoken by mystery giggling and squeaking noises.

Kevin lost it all over again. He doubled over, clutching his stomach, laughter pouring out of him like he physically couldn’t contain it. Connor just sat there, reeling. He glanced at Steve for help, but Steve — unhelpful, awful Steve — was on the verge of laughing himself. (And shirtless, but who was keeping track of that?)

Eventually, Steve sighed and lifted his head all the way, offering Connor a sleepy, knowing smirk.

“Just ignore him,” he said, voice still rough. “He’s the type of ex-Mo that still finds anything to do with swearing funny. He’s mentally twelve.”

“Am not !” Kevin exclaimed, forcing himself to sit up straight for a grand total of three seconds before breaking into giggles again.

Connor narrowed his eyes.

It was bizarre for two reasons. One, Connor had thought Arnold was probably the most immature person who’d ever gone on a mission, and even he didn’t react like this to hearing someone say fuck. Two, Steve and Kevin had served in Orlando. Two hours down the road. That wasn’t exactly foreign lands. If both of them had gone through some massive faith crisis, Connor was pretty sure he would’ve heard about it.

Which led to a very obvious, very intrusive question.

“What do you mean ex-Mo?” Connor asked, turning to Kevin. “I thought I was the one who got kicked out.”

Kevin had finally started to calm down, wiping at his eyes like he’d just come out of a laughing fit that had drained his entire energy supply. He straightened up slightly, smirking. “Wow. You’re really jumping in, huh? At least take me to dinner before the existential questions.”

Connor’s brain short-circuited.

Was Kevin flirting?

His stomach twisted in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. Of course Kevin knew he was gay, but having it acknowledged in a non-hostile, almost playful way was… different. Weird. It sent his heart racing, and more in the panic attack way than the fun way. 

Steve must have picked up on his sudden silence, even from where he was now face-down in his pillow again, because he cleared his throat. “Alright, let’s put a pin in deep-dive trauma hour.” he stretched, finally sitting up, ruffling his hair. “Connor, we’re going for breakfast. You coming? We can do, like, basic twenty questions rather than the twenty deepest questions ever.”

Connor hesitated. A few hours ago, the thought of spending more time with these two would have seemed impossible. Now, though… 

He just knew it was going to be torturous and painful and tempting enough to induce some religious-guilt he was supposed to have left behind three states ago, but unfortunately Connor also enjoyed tempting fate nowadays. 

“Fine,” he said, pretending to be put out as he stood. “But I’m picking the first question.”

Kevin grinned. “Deal.”

*

They ended up at IHOP for breakfast. The air smelled of syrup and burnt coffee, and the fluorescent lighting buzzed faintly overhead. A couple of tired-looking servers loitered near the kitchen, talking quietly, like they didn’t expect real customers until at least noon. Connor still couldn’t fathom why Kevin thought waking up the entire floor at 8am before classes had even started was a good idea.

Steve slid into the booth first, and Connor had a brief but very real moment of panic when he realized he was either sitting next to Kevin or directly across from him. Kevin slid in next to Steve, and Connor just managed to suppress his reaction before dropping into the opposite side, facing them both. The last thing he needed was to give them another reason to tease him before he’d even woken up.

A waitress meandered over to take their orders; Steve ordered a ridiculous amount of food, Kevin just got coffee and pancakes, and Connor, not particularly hungry, settled on toast and eggs. The moment she walked away, Steve stretched dramatically, draping an arm over the back of the booth.

“Alright, Connor,” he said. “You insisted on picking the first question, so hit us with it.”

Connor tore open a sugar packet and sprinkled it onto the table for no reason except to fidget with something. “I don’t know, I admit I didn’t really think that through. How did you two meet?"

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s it?”

“You said basic questions, not deep questions,” Connor pointed out, swirling the sugar around with a fingertip. “And I’m not exactly dying to know your deepest, darkest secrets.” He hesitated, then smiled before adding, “Yet.”

“Good to know you’re keeping an open mind.” Kevin smirked. Connor had kind of thought that sharing a room with Steve every night would be the worst thing to happen to him this year, but having to face his companion/best friend/??? and pretend he wasn’t the tiniest bit attracted to either of them was way worse.

“Anyways, we met when I arrived at our apartment. Kevin started a month before me.” 

Connor blinked. That was not the answer he had expected. “You didn’t know each other beforehand? Not from the MTC?”

“Nope,” Steve said, popping the ‘p’ as he stole one of Connor’s sugar packets. “We never really crossed paths at the MTC, then it’s pure luck he’s been obsessed with Disney since he was, like, five and decided to stay out here too. No point breaking in a whole new companion when I already had a decent one.”

“You say that like I wasn’t the best you had,” Kevin said with an affectionate eye roll, just about visible over the rim of his coffee cup.

“I plead the fifth,” Steve said, grinning.

Something about the way they looked at each other made Connor pause. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly, just that it felt… weird. A little too familiar. A little too comfortable.

They had to be dating. Connor wasn’t sure why that revelation hit him so hard, but it did. He wasn’t surprised that Steve was dating someone; he was charming, even if annoying, and he’d always been good-looking in an infuriating, effortless kind of way. But Kevin? Sure, he was equally as infuriatingly hot, but he was also the guy who had woken him up at an ungodly hour because he forgot roommates were a thing and jabbed people in the ribs for no reason.

Connor suddenly felt incredibly stupid for ever thinking, even for a second, that his old feelings for Steve might lead to a better income this time. Clearly, he had never stood a chance.

Kevin, oblivious to Connor’s internal crisis, finished off his first coffee with a contented sigh. “Alright, my turn. What are you majoring in?”

“Don’t profile me, but musical theatre,”  Connor admitted. He was still a little concerned about how fast Kevin seemed to drain his cup for someone raised in the church. “I’m minoring in music performance too, so just… a degree in making noise, basically."

“What instrument do you play? Why here?”

"That’s not how 20 questions works,” Connor said quickly, before Kevin could push any further. “Steve’s turn.”

“He plays saxophone.” Steve grinned, and the way he looked between Connor and Kevin did something evil to Connor. “My question is why Florida? You aren’t scared of sunburn?” 

That felt a little too deep for a supposed basic question, considering Steve already knew about his mission. “I just wanted to get out of Utah.”

“Did you really have a crush on him?” Kevin jumped in, amusement flickering across his face. “As in, him ? You looked at all…” he gestured loosely to Steve, “ that and found that hot?”

“It wasn’t your turn.” Connor bristled. It wasn’t like he could tell Kevin what to say about his boyfriend, but he didn’t exactly want to be judged for his pubescent crush either. And maybe he did find a tiny bit of all that and Kevin a little hot now, but he certainly wouldn’t be admitting it

“I’m just saying, better options out there.”

“ Not in Closetsville, Utah,” he groaned, dragging his hands across his face before plastering a smile back on. “Next question, what’s your biggest irrational fear?”

“Kevin’s is moths," Steve helpfully chimes in again, all too proud grin on his face.

“Moths should not exist! They are too big and too unpredictable and they fly straight at your face!”

“One time,” Steve leaned in closer, like he was letting Connor in on his most precious secret, “he actually screamed when one got into our apartment.”

“It dove at me!” Kevin insisted.

Connor snorted before he could stop himself. “Oh my god, you’re serious.”

“I will throw my coffee at you,” Kevin threatened.

“See?” Steve said, shaking his head in mock regret. “Mentally twelve.”

Kevin flicked a sugar packet at him, which Steve caught easily. Connor should not have noticed how natural it looked, as if they were in sync. He definitely should not have felt that weird little pang in his chest that was absolutely not jealousy, because there was nothing to be jealous of.