Attachments (Tronnor AU)

Here

adverb

       • at or in this place; to or into this place; now; on Earth.

"Why the fuck," Dan groans out viciously, "is there Christmas music playing in November?"

Troye gives him a sideways look in response, huffing out half a laugh as he sinks onto the park wall beside him. The music in question is drifting from an apparent celebration of sorts occurring in the park itself, the overly jolly tunes of a holiday neither boy celebrates lingering poignantly in the open air. There's barely any snow on the ground, barely any chill in the wind, and already the first signs of arguably the most controversial festivity are ringing loud and clear.

"Actually," Troye interjects thoughtfully, just to piss him off. "Today's the first day of December."

It works. Dan glares at him as viciously as he'd previously been griping about the ugly Christmas cheer, purposefully removing a tiny sheet of rolled paper and obviously something much less harmless from his jacket pocket. His look is pointed, eyebrows raised and challenging as he flicks the joint between his lips and lights it with a form of practiced ease. Troye's responding look is nonchalant, eyes rolled as he lets out a huff of air from between his own chapping lips and shakes his head at the asshole beside him.

"That guy come around again?" he asks after another few lines of 'Silent Night' have disgraced the air surrounding them. It's mostly because he doesn't have much else to say, but he'll admit to honestly being at least a tiny bit curious about it.

Dan shrugs, pursing his lips as he clenches his fingers around his joint. His answer is slow, snippy like he's fed up with the whole thing already, and Troye figures that he probably is. Dan's not one to enjoy people poking around at him, especially when they get to be persistent about it. He's also not the kind to snap the way Troye does, though, as Dan instead has a tendency to twist his anger into something eerily calm and subtly destructive as he waves his hand in front of your face while stabbing you directly in the gut.

"Whatever," is all Dan says and Troye knows that's all he's going to say. It doesn't really matter, Troye doesn't exactly give a shit about this good Samaritan of theirs trying to set him on 'the right path'. All it means is they've got to suffer through more disgusting Christmas songs as their usually comfortable silence becomes distinctly uncomfortable.

That is, until Dan decides to speak up again. Admittedly, it's probably just to spite the elderly choir starting in on 'Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer'. "That boyfriend of yours back yet?"

And yeah. Normally, this would be the part where Troye would scoff and scuff his feet against the pavement, roll his eyes again and smack Dan's arm for using the word 'boyfriend', but he doesn't. Instead, he frowns and sighs and stuffs his hands into his pockets, leaning back a little more heavily against the crumbling stone wall.

"No," he admits, a marginal amount of bitterness slipping unwarranted into his tone. Dan half-smirks at the sound of it, but thankfully doesn't comment. Or so Troye manages to think for all of three seconds.

"Do you loooove him?" Dan teases after the three seconds have passed, leaning in to bump their shoulders together and wiggle his eyebrows suggestively like they actually have the kind of friendship where this is perfectly normal and not supremely disturbing.

Troye looks at him like he's crazy. Which, based on the second blunt he's now lighting between scarred fingertips, is actually an incredibly viable proposition.

Thank God Connor's probably going to be back within the next few days. Troye has absolutely no idea how he survived this long with just Dan for company.