Sequins and Somersaults: A Conan Gray Fic

Need for Speed

Conan watches me from the other side of the picnic table, dropping nuggets into his mouth without breaking eye contact.

You know when you go to a pet store, and your parents won't let you get the cute puppy because "they're expensive" and "you neglected your hamster and it died," and "you have no clue how to take care of an animal and you hardly care about anyone but yourself, Raven"? And your heart hurts because you just want the puppy so bad, with its fluffy hair and cute body? That's how I feel looking at Conan eat his nuggets. Every part of me aches when I realize that he isn't mine. When I realize that I could never make him mine. Life sucks.

"Why are you staring at me?" Conan licks a glob of barbecue sauce from the table.

"I was just zoned-" I start, before getting a burst of courage. I look Conan in the beautiful, brown eyes. I imagine his eyes being giant piles of dirt; me rolling around in them like one of the children from the olden days.

"Are you having a stroke?" Conan leans his perfect face closer to my own imperfect one.

"No." My voice shakes, but I know what I must do. This may be my only chance to make a move. "Conan...I was staring at you b-because," I stammer out. "I was staring at you because I'm in love with you."

Conan hardly reacts to my words. "Noice. Can you pass the fries?"

"Fries?? After my confession?" I knock the fries off of the table, hoping he'll find my anger attractive. "I don't want fries. I want you. Kiss me, you fool. KISS ME, CONAN!"

My eyes shoot open and I sit up quickly.

I look around, dazed and confused.

A nugget hits me right between the eyes.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Conan throws another nugget at me.

I gulp. It was just a dream. Conan doesn't actually know I want to kiss him. A wave of relief washes over me, although part of me feels disappointed. If I hadn't been dreaming and had actually told Conan about my feelings for him, at least he would now officially know and I could stop spending every second with him trying to hide the fact that I want to marry him.

"Sorry, I didn't sleep much last night," I mutter. It's true; I had stayed up until one in the morning trying to finish a puzzle, before I realized it was just the ripped-up top of a cereal box that my dad had left lying around. Thanks, dad.

"Weak," Conan whispers before throwing a fry into his mouth. "You sleep-talk, by the way. Major turn-off. I'd work on that if I were you."

My heart drops all the way to my feet. If I weren't so afraid about what I could have possibly said while sleeping, I might have been hurt by Conan being turned-off by my behavior. But panic surges through me as I try to imagine the things I could have possibly said.

"W-what did I say?" I try not to sound too concerned, but my squeak gives me away.

Conan seems bored by this conversation, as he says, "Something like, 'kiss me, Conan'. You don't have a thing for that talk show host, do you? That would be super cringey." He dips a piece of funnel cake into a container of barbecue, pinning his eyes on me as he takes a bite.

My mouth goes completely dry and I can feel the color draining from my face. While half of me is horrified over the fact that Conan heard what sleep-me said, the other half is shocked that he could be so stupid. So clueless. It's kind of hot, I can't even lie.

"No, of course not." I toss my hair and try to look sexy. "Gingers aren't my thing. Like, at all. I don't even like ginger ale, that's how much I hate gingers." I wink at him, surprised at how well I lied.