the boy and his acorn

the instigation abomination

~Evan POV~

 We're sitting on the bed, facing each other. It's quiet for a second, before Connor meets my eyes. 

"Truth or dare?" It's become something of a tradition, us playing when it gets quiet. I like playing with him. I like getting to hold a little bit more of him in my mind every time. 

I grin, feeling a little bit of confidence surge in my chest, "Dare."

Connor smirks at me. God. I want to kiss him, I want to kiss him, I want to kiss him. 

He leans forward a little, his mouth brushing my ear, "I dare you to do the first thing that comes to your mind. Without overthinking it."

That's it. My mind switches onto autopilot, which is rare, and I kiss him. I just want to wrap my arms around him like a tourniquet and get lost in him. God. He's intoxicating.

I pull away, and he has that stupid lopsided grin on his face. 

"Truth, uh, or dare?" I rest my head on my hand, meeting his eyes.

"Truth."

"Um. Hm. Uh, who's your favourite person? Like, alive, um, or dead, someone, uh, you know, uh, or not, just your, um, your favourite person."

He looked up at me, and in the pale moonlight, I could just make out the beginning of a blush dust his cheeks.

"You're gonna make fun of me." He mumbled it, and I felt myself melting.

"I, um, I would never."

"Okay, um, it's," His voice drops off, so I can't hear the last part.

"Hm?"

"It's," His voice drops again, barely below a whisper, but I still can't hear it.

"One, um, one more time?"

"It's you." He says it rather quickly.

"Aww, that's cute. I, uh, I thought you were, um, gonna, uh, gonna say, like, uh, Kurt Cobain, or someone."

He feigns offence, "Do you really think so little of me?"

I can't help but giggle, and before I can respond, he meets my eyes again (God. Now I know why they call it eye contact.) 

"Truth or dare?"

I catch my breath, "Truth."

"Who's your favourite person, then?"

"Um, uh, probably, um, probably this guy, um, he's kinda cranky sometimes, um, but, um, he's really very nice, um, and, um, he's really cool." 

I hear him gasp, "Who is this other man stealing your affection from me?"

I giggle, "You, uh, you know him."

"I do?!" He sounds incredulous.

"Better, um, better than, uh, I do, um, actually."

"You're kidding."

I grin, "Um, nope." I pop the 'p' feebly, and try not to laugh.

"Give me a name. I have some kneecaps to steal." He says it grimly, and I have to seriously focus on not laughing.

"You, um, you need, um, kneecaps, to um, to walk, um, Connor."

"Yeah, I know I- Oh. Oh come on. I almost committed a felony, Evan Hansen. You'd put your boyfriend behind bars?" He gives me his lopsided grin again, and my insides melt.

Then it hits me. 

"Um, uh, b- um, boy- uh, boyfriend?"

"Oh, crap, um, I mean, I guess? Shoot, um, I mean do you want to? Be my boyfriend?"

My cheeks flush, "I, um, I mean, yeah, of course, um, 100%"

He lights up, "You do?"

I nod excitedly. Connor Murphy's my boyfriend. Connor Murphy is my boyfriend. 

He kisses me, and I run my hands through his hair, unpinning it as I go, and tugging lightly as I unknot it. He pulls away, slightly, so our noses are still touching, and chuckles. 

"Zoe's gonna be so pissed. She spent half an hour trying to pin my hair."

"Oh," my voice is weak, "I'm, um, I'm sorry."

"God, no, don't be." He drops his voice again, "That was hot, Evan Hansen."

"W-What was, um, hot?" I tug lightly at his hair like I did before, "This?"

He kisses me again, "Jesus, yes."

 I giggle, and go to kiss him, but he pulls back. 

I frown and make a small noise, internally hoping I didn't do something wrong.

He leans forward and whispers in my ear again, his voice low, "What is it Evan Hansen?"

I swallow, "Um, it, um, it's, it's nothing."

"Are you sure?" His lips brush my ear, and his breath on my neck makes me shudder.

"Um, uh, yeah, um, pretty, um, pretty much."

He leans in, like he's going to kiss me, but then pulls away at the last second, eliciting a small whine from me. (Which I'm not proud of, and will deny in a court of law.)

He smirks, and walks his hands over to me, making me subconsciously lean back until my back is flat against the bed, and he's propping himself up over me.

His voice is low, and quiet, "Do you want me to kiss you again, Evan Hansen?" The way he says it sends a chill up my spine. That was hot.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out except a weak squeak. 

He smirks again, and I swear if he does it one more time, I'm going to implode. 

"I'll take that as a yes."

My face heats up instantly, and I open my mouth again, willing something to come out. Nothing will. 

I wonder if he knows what this does to me. 

God.