adjacent ➵ tronnor

alongside

Of all the times Connor has walked into Troye's apartment with a knot in his stomach, this time is the worst by a mile and a half. His hands grasp and fiddle with his shirt, palms sweaty and nails bitten (though unrecognisably — he's painted over it so it doesn't look quite as bad). His words feel trapped in his throat like it's a cage without a key as he trails lamely behind the taller boy, sitting aside him on his sofa, distractedly darting his eyes around the room in an attempt to calm himself down.

"Have you thought about it?" Troye says, resting his clasped hands against his legs. When Connor answers with a noise akin to a hmm?, he clarifies, "Thought about the question. Where do we go from here, remember? Because you sort of left me hanging with the sudden exit."

"Oh," says Connor, blushing. "I have. An awful lot, actually. I mean, I felt bad leaving you with a pretty shitty response, but I was too scared to call or text because I thought you'd be too pissed to talk and I was way too — what's the word? — flustered to talk coherently to you, not that I'm being perfectly coherent now, but still— I mean, I don't know, well, I do know, and I've—"

"Shut up," Troye cuts off Connor's rambling abruptly, though he's thankful because he could do with a breather after that. "Just get to the point and answer the question."

"I have an answer, but I have a question for myself first."

Troye gives him a stubborn, reluctant look, sighing. Connor doubts he'll cooperate at first, but then he says, "Shoot."

"You know how I feel about you. Lilly told you, I told you. But you haven't told me how you're feeling. So tell me: do you like me the way I like you, or not?" Connor says significantly slower this time, his voice wavering once or twice throughout.

Troye doesn't react the way Connor thinks he will, with a simple yes or no playing at his lips. In fact, he doesn't react at all at first, body language neutral and face expressionless, until he says, exasperated, "Lord above, save me."

"Huh?"

"You're fucking with me, right?"

Connor is beyond the point of regular confusion. "...No?" he says, though it comes out as more of a question than a statement.

"Connor, dearest," he adds with sarcasm, "I've been flirting with you for quite some time now. I thought it was pretty obvious, but I guess you're just oblivious as shit." Connor opens his mouth to let out an offended hey!, but he's cut off by Troye placing a finger against his lips. "Sure, OK, I'm sometimes pretty passive-aggressive when I talk to you, but that was all early days, right? Jesus, Con, I made you a drink as a shitty excuse to get your number. I invited you to meet my friends as if you were my date."

Troye swallows, breathes. Then he continues, "In fact, I told them we were dating. And on the way I held your hand, and I must've done it another thirty odd times in other cafés, too. I literally called you babe at one point. Fuck, I don't even know what to say anymore. I mean, I knew you liked me before Lilly told me. It was obvious, just as I was. I wasn't gonna accuse you, though, because I figured you'd tell me in your own time."

Troye liked him that entire time? God, he fucked up. He should've told him.

Connor, more than slightly awestruck, forces himself to speak. "Wow, OK. I guess I am oblivious. Well, in that case, my answer to your question is that I'd like to date you."

Troye smiles, wide and genuine. "I think we've been unknowingly dating the past month, to be honest. But all right, yeah, I can work with that. Dating it is."

Connor returns the smile and breathes a sigh of relief, revelling in how well this whole ordeal worked out. Somewhere along the line between Lilly destroying their apartments and them sitting together on Troye's couch as boyfriends, he'd fallen in like with Troye, the painfully attractive, ridiculously confusing aspiring musician next door, and at the end of the day, he wouldn't change a thing.

He remembers how excited he'd been the day he bought the apartment, all happy-nervous butterflies and wide grins, and now, he thinks, he feels exactly the same way about Troye. He remembers the day he moved in and first spoke to Troye, and how he hadn't quite known the extent Troye'd impact his life, and how different their dynamic is now. He remembers how scared he'd been about Troye knowing about his crush, though now he feels nothing but relief.

Connor smiles contently, looking at the spot in the wall where the hole used to be, and how his apartment is right through the wall, adjacent.