Tronnor in Anaheim

Chapter Nine

*SMUT WARNING*

Connor 

After Troye and I finished our talk in the kitchen, my spirits were increasingly light and carefree.

Life was good. I'd worked up the courage to come out to my best friend, I'd had my first kiss with a boy and it went amazingly; that very boy was in this room with me, along with several other very gay friends that made me feel safe and accepted, free to be my true self. 

When I was first diagnosed with depression, my doctor told me sometimes I should take a step back and reflect on the happy times in my life, savor those moments when they came around, because they would help me through bad times. 

This was one of those moments.

I was feeling pleasantly buzzed, an underlying energy zipping through my legs, causing me to bounce up and down on my toes as I lined up my pool cue with the ball, closing one eye while aiming because I heard that helps improve accuracy. 

Damn it. Turns out it's a lie, because the ball hit the wood about four inches to the left of the pocket, and bounced halfway across the table. 

"My life is a lie!" I exclaimed dramatically, throwing my hands in the air. Tyler made a face at me. "Don't make excuses, Con, you just suck at pool." 

I narrowed my eyes at him, about to argue, when Troye interjected from the side table. "It's true, you're in last place. Pat has more points than you, and he's been asleep for the last half hour." 

Tyler snorted. 

"Fine, whatever. I vote we do something else, pool is overrated." 

Korey let out a whine from the corner. "But I'm fucking killing you guys!" 

"All the more reason to stop," Tyler retorted, tossing his pool cue on top of the table, effectively eliminating any farther participation. 

"You guys suck. I declare myself the victor of this pool game! 41 points to what! None of you even came close." 

"Wow, round of applause to Korey. Listening to him talk about it, you'd think it was his greatest achievement in life," said Chris playfully. 

"Hey, you don't know me, you don't know my life. That one statement could've crushed my dreams of becoming a professional pool player." 

"What is your dream, Kor?" Tyler asked, rolling his eyes. 

Korey seemed to actually consider it, rubbing his beard drunkenly. 

"To get laid every day of the year. Including Sundays. By hot, bearded guys." 

Chris let out a low whistle. Tyler said, "Isn't that THE dream though?" 

"I'm living the dream right now," said Chris, glancing fondly at Pat, who was lying face first, slumped over into the sofa. 

"Shut the fuck up, Chris, no one wants to hear about your sex life," Tyler groaned. 

"Are you sure?" Chris teased. "You don't want to hear about that one time, it was Christmas Eve, at our hotel in the janitor's closet-" 

"Oh my god," I protested, sure my ears were bright red. 

"Look, Con's getting flustered," Korey pointed out. I'm sure he wouldn't have done it if he was sober, but now all eyes were on me and my blushing face. How was I supposed to hide the fact that talking about sex openly- gay sex- something I would actually, hopefully, one day take part in; not heterosexual sex, the kind the O2L boys used to joke about all the time that I had to feign interest in- no, talking about gay sex got me all hot and bothered in a different way.