blue | a collection of tronnor oneshots

lists

Prompt: Connor makes lists about boys named Troye amongst other things

Connor was always an organized person. He kept tabs in books and all this contacts had last names and addresses.

He had alarms for when to wake and for when he needs to pop the waffles into the toaster, and when to take them out.

His notes for history class are neat and his hair is always done. His shoes match his shirts and his lockers never cluttered. But his mind is.

Connor longs for the time when things where simple, when he was small and so were his problems. Sure he's organized and seems to have everything figured out, but he doesn't. His mind races with social justice and a certain blue eyed boy.

Connor was always and organized person, he had lists for everything. Shopping lists, to-do lists, lists on certain boys like Troye. He hates that he does, he hates the lists, because only old ladies and scientist keep lists and Connor isn't either of those things.

His favorite list though, the one he loves as much as he hates, is the one about a boy he hates as much as he loves.

Troye likes women shoes and Nutella, Troye goes to gay clubs at 17 and knows everybody in town. Troye doesn't have a phone, he prefers human contact. All kinds, anything to make him warm. Troye likes kissing boys and making people fall in love with him when he thinks no ones watching.

But Connor had always been watching. That's what Connor does, he watches people and beautiful scenery. Maybe that's why his camera is full of pictures of gardens, skies, and Troye.

The pictures vary. Troye touching a wall as he walks. Troye kissing a boy at a house party, Troye singing in choir class. Any moment Connor can capture with the boy in it he's there with his camera waiting. He always is.

That's why when Troye shows up at his house on a Saturday night hammered Connor doesn't hesitate to sneak him into his bed room. Troye giggles, pulling on Connors arm as he closes the door behind them.

"What are you doing here?" He asks with a whisper, gasping as Troye grabs his hips and brings him closer.

"I wanted to see you."

"Why would you want that?" Confused, Troyes wide dilated eyes search his.

"I don't know?" He asks uncertainly before another nervous giggle leaves the lips Connors been obsessing over for years.
"Slow down there Tro." Connor says when Troye starts to pull at his shirt. "You need to lay down."

"Only if you lay down with me." Troye says with a wink and Connor groans as he drags him to the bed.

"You are so drunk." Troye mutters something  incoherent and let's Connor take his shoes off as he sits on the mattress, Connor on his knees in front of him.

"I'm so tired." Troye whines, his hands grasping his hair rather aggressively. Connor leans up on his knees at Troyes height.

"I know, that's why you need to lay-"

"No," Troye says, pulling him back down to level when Connor goes to stand. "Not that kind of tired. Mentally tired." He doesn't remove his hands from Connors shirt.

"Oh."

"I'm tired of people, the way touch me and the way I let them. I'm tired of empty promises and strangers calling me names. Baby this and baby that. I am not a baby Connor. I am a 17 year old man." Connor just nods, rubbing circles on the skin he's watched for years.

"I know."

"You do?" Troye seems desperate, grabbing at his shirt to pull him closer. There noses touch.

"Y-yeah."

"Tell me." Connor wrinkles his nose in confusion and Troyes breathe fans his face.

"Tell you what?" Troye whines, pulling the boy painfully closer.

"Tell me that I'm not a baby. That I'm a man." When Connor says nothing Troye begins to tremble. "Please."

"Uh...y-your not a baby Troye." Troye nods, tears streaming down his face. "Your a man." Then Troye laughs and Connors taken aback. He leans back into the hunches of his feet. Troye hands fall to his lap as he laughs, tears falling onto his hands.

"Thank you." Connor just nods and let's Troye get under the covers of his bed, his curly hair, the hair Connors watched for years, hit his pillow and Troye holds his arm out. "Lay with me?" And he does because it's Troye, the boy Connors obsessed with.

Troye tentatively buries his head his Connors neck, wrapping his arms around Connors waist. Con breathes him in with a light smile. When Troyes breathing evens out and he's finally asleep, Connors mind begins to reel, the clutter now increasing.

All this time Connors been making lists and keeping tabs and taking pictures but he hadn't really been seeing. The slight frown when he kisses another stranger, the way he flinches at pet names.

Connors been watching for years and yet he hasn't been truly seeing. And now he has something else to add to the list of wrongs about the boy he used to know so well.

Troye likes women shoes and Nutella, Troye goes to gay clubs at 17 and knows everybody in town. Troye doesn't have a phone, he prefers human contact. All kinds, anything to make him warm. Troye hates kissing boys and making people fall in love with him when he thinks no ones watching, but he does it anyway. Troye hates pet names and needs reassurance from strangers and gets drunk to tell the truth.

Connor guesses that he hasn't been watching. No not really.
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What even was this thou

Happy thanksgiving strangers 🍁