falling; a tronnor au

Make You Love Me; Troye Sivan

"But when the sun starts to set, the skies take your breath."

--

Troye apologized to the others in line and gave his shift to Blessing, a close friend of his. "Sorry, Blessing, but I can't let him leave just like that."

"You go and get him, Troye," Blessing chuckled, urging him out of the register. Troye hurried and ran out the door, trying to follow the man's footsteps. The snow had proven itself to be quite useful, as Troye immediately found the footsteps and followed along.

Finally, he reached the man, who was right about to enter a hotel.

"Hey."

The man turned around, surprised. "You.. Followed me?"

"Sorry! I didn't mean any harm, I just--" Troye pulled out the loose change. "Keep it. I really can't take extra money like that."

"It's twenty five cents! Keep it, really," the boy nodded, refusing to take the money. "Troye, was it?"

"Yeah, and you are..?"

"Connor. Connor Franta," the stranger replied. "You wanna come inside? It may just be a hotel, but there's a nice heater here."

"I'm.. Uh, okay."

Connor led Troye up the elevator, where the two of them made small talk about interests. Both found that they had a passion for YouTube and other social media.

"We should, like, collab sometime," Connor offered.

"You'd really do that?" Troye asked, bewildered. "Not that I don't want to, but like... I'm just a small, local Australian YouTuber. Not famous or anything like that."

"Well, I mean, me neither. I'm just any old guy from Los Angeles. You have potential, Troye. I think you'll make it big one day."

"I'm a barista at a coffee shop!" Troye laughed. "Me? Big? We'll be together when that happens." After saying that, Troye immediately regretted his words. "Sorry, I didn't mean..."

"No, it's, uh, okay." Connor bit his lip.

Troye was right about to say something when the elevator door opened.

"Oh, uh, we're here." Connor nodded, taking out his hotel key and unlocking the door. "After you," he made a silly gesture for Troye to enter, which lightened up the mood once more.

"Why, thank you," Troye giggled, skipping into the small hotel room. Inside, he stared in awe at the neatly folded clothes, tidy bed, and, well, the entire room.

"That was all the cleaning ladies. I'm not a neat freak, but I like my rooms presentable," Connor cut in, amused at the younger boy's reaction.

"Did you say 'pretty please?'" Troye smirked.

"How did you know? I also was super duper polite and complimented all the cleaning ladies," Connor made an innocent face while batting his eyes, making the two of them laugh. "No, I just tipped them a little too generously the other day, and I guess they took it differently than I expected."

"Well, you got a pretty clean room, so thank yourself, Franta." Troye chuckled.

"Your accent is so exotic."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah! Like, I don't even know. You say my last name so... Weirdly."

"I'm offended!"

"Not in a bad way, but it just sounds so cool.. And weird. At the same time."

"You want me to call you something else?"

"Like what?"

"Franta... Flanta? Fanta? Fran? Oh, I've got it; Frannie. Connie Frannie."

"You're joking."

"Not a bit, Connie Frannie."

"Fine. You want to play that game, Troye Boy?"

"Ooh, well played, Con Fran. Well-played."

The two talked for hours, only stopping to use the restroom and get drinks or food.

"Oh, crap!" Troye groaned, face-palming himself.

"What's wrong?"

"My shift," he grumbled. "I was supposed to be back--" he checked his phone and gasped-- "four hours ago."

"What time is it now?"

"Almost eight." Troye heaved. "Argh, Blessing is going to kill me."

"Blessings can't kill people," Connor countered.

"Yeah, but in this case, my Blessing is a best friend and roommate. And coworker. Just my luck."

"Well, go, then!" Connor shooed him. "I'll call you a taxi."

"I can walk," Troye argued.

"It's dark, though. You'd better count your blessings if you're going to even attempt to walk."

"Wow, Con Fran. Nice pun."

"It's my specialty," Connor winked. "Kidding, kidding. And for the record, taxis are safer. Or ubers, if you'd prefer."

"Fine."

The two took the elevator down, talking the whole way through. After Connor hailed a cab and Troye hopped inside, the barista rolled down the window and beckoned for Connor to come closer.

Connor leaned in, half worried and half excited. "What is it?"

"Thank you, Connie Frannie. For everything."

"It's no problem, Troye Boy. You have my number, yeah?"

"Of course. You have mine?"

"I texted you, so how can I not?"

Troye smiled. "Let's meet again soon, okay?"

"Yeah." Connor nodded, somehow feeling breathless. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Oh, and one more thing," Troye smirked, leaning towards Connor. Connor's heart raced; was Troye going to kiss him? A million thoughts were racing through his head as the Australian pressed his lips less than a millimeter away from Connor's right ear. His breath tingled and felt warm, sending pleasant shivers down the older boy's spine. He took caution to be quick as he whispered six words to Connor:

"The change is on your bed."

--