Troye thinks kissing Jacob was the stupidest thing he's ever done. It was easy to ignore the voice screaming in his head about what a fucking idiot he is when Jacob had a gentle grip on his hand as they made their way up from the pond to see the other rink. It was easy to ignore the voice when he was snuggled up next to Jacob on the bench while they watched the other guys playing hockey. It was easy to ignore the voice when Jacob was giving him a tender kiss as they said goodbye after the guys finished their game. It is not easy to ignore the voice now that Troye is laying in his bed the next day, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about all the ways Jacob is going to shred him apart.
Tyler came in a few hours ago to say bye to Troye before he left for the library, he's got some ridiculously complicated essay due soon that he's been stressing about. The bass of the music coming from Caspar's room tells Troye Caspar must be painting. Troye hardly slept last night because the second he was in the car with Caspar and Tyler and Jacob was pulling away in his truck with Connor, his mind would not stop analyzing all the ways he's setting himself up to be destroyed. It's almost one in the afternoon now, but he hasn't left his bed.
All that skating yesterday was not a good idea, every one of his joints hurts and his leg muscles burn with every movement. It had been nice though, after the kiss. They had taken off their skates and sat on the bench and Jacob had put his arm around Troye' shoulders and held him close. Troye wasn't sure if it was because he was shivering or because of whatever is going on between them now, but it felt nice. It was also nice when Troye felt Jacob's lips press against his beanie, when Jacob twined their fingers together, when Jacob brushed his lips against Troye' knuckles. All tender things, all sweet things, all nice things. Troye doesn't deserve nice or sweet or tender though, so it was all wrong.
Troye hears the music shut off in Caspar's room and his feet padding down the hall. He doesn't knock before he comes in and when he crawls under the covers with Troye he has paint dried on his knuckles and a bit smeared across his forehead. Troye rolls over when Caspar's arms snake around his shoulders and he snuggles close. Caspar's fingers trace up and down Troye' back and Troye reaches up to wipe away the drying paint with the sleeve of the ratty old sweatshirt he's wearing.
"How you feeling Troye? You tired today?" Caspar asks gently.
"Yeah a little tired I guess," Troye says, "what are you painting?"
"Inconsistency, fickleness."
Caspar always paints vague things that Troye never fully understands, but the emotion is clear on every canvas he touches. He isn't in school for his art, he just does it as a way to express himself, but Troye and Tyler think everything he paints is gorgeous.
"Can I see it?" Troye asks.
"Of course, but I ran out of fuchsia paint so I need to get some and finish it first. Caitlyn wanted to meet up for coffee and to study though, do you think you'll be okay home alone for a bit?"
"Caitlyn, she's the one with blonde hair right?"
Troye asks and Caspar nods, "she's cute."
"Yeah she's a sweetheart. I'm kind of pretending to be worse at Economics so she'll help me," Caspar shrugs shyly.
Troye laughs, "as if you need to do that, love. Just ask her out."
He scrunches up his nose, "I don't know if she likes me....you know how I am."
"I know babe, though I'll never get why you're so shy. You're very loveable and gorgeous and sweet," Troye says seriously, because he knows Caspar needs to be reminded sometimes.
Caspar chuckles but his tan cheeks colour a bit, "you have to say that."
"No I don't. If studying goes well I want you to ask her out. Like for dinner or something. Okay?"
