I'll Keep You Safe 3/3
Title: I'll Keep You Safe
Summary for P3: Connor wakes up, and things are addressed between the two.
Rating: T - 15+ (per usual for this fic.)
AN: duhm da dah dum! It is finished! Though, I may revisit Conphen!Verse at
some point, because I have quite a number of idea for the rest of their
relationship, and a fixit for S2's ending... ;3 But I'm not sure when those'll
happen, and I do want to keep up on writing Feral as well as any number of other
fics of mine... ^^'' So there's that. Aaaaanyways! I hope you enjoy the third
and final chapter for this fic! Thankfully the boys gave me fluff!muse...
Series: Conphen!Verse
If he had thought that his headache the night before was bad, Connor was most
especially unprepared for the incomparably horrible, painful feeling of someone
drumming on the inside of his skull and behind his eyes that he awoke to. It was
singularly awful, and while he didn't have much to compare it to, this headache
was worse than the one he'd had three years ago.
Connor's eyes flew open, and he winced when the sunlight accosted him.
Sunlight? His spot in Abby's flat was quite shadowy in the mornings...
Cautiously, because quick movements were known for making anything to do with
heads and pain ten times worse, Connor sat up and looked around him.
He was sat on a dimly familiar sofa, dark grey and soft fabric, dressed in
the same clothes he had left the ARC in the night before. That... was something.
Whose flat was he in? It seemed familiar... but while he remembered getting
immensely pissed, and some brief flashes of conversation , and cold night air,
his memory was largely blank.
It worried Connor, and he had a bad, twist-in-the-gut type feeling. Alcohol
and him, they didn't agree very well. The last time, and the reason he'd sworn
off it in the first place...
Oh. But...
"G'morning!" Came an unusually chipper voice that Connor immediately
recognized. He turned around with wide eyes to see a cheerfully smiling Stephen
Hart stood in the hallway that led to a bedroom.
"Erm..."
Stephen knew he was acting really out of sorts for himself, but he'd woken up
early and well-rested, surprisingly, and he'd almost feared that his house guest
had left during the night. Realizing that Connor had, in fact, stayed, made him
grin like an idiot. It meant that his friend trusted him, and that meant quite a
lot, especially these days.
Still, he thought he knew what the expression on the younger man's face
meant, and his smile slipped a little.
Connor's eyes took that as something more than it was, and Stephen shook his
head vigorously, hand extended towards Connor's shoulder when he got to his
feet.
"No, no; nothing happened. You were plastered, an' my flat was closer. You
fell asleep on the sofa and I fell asleep in my room, okay?" Stephen hid the
little pang he felt at Connor's visible relief at his words.
"Anyways, you've probably got one 'ell of a hangover, don't you?"
"Mhmf." Was all he recieved for his question, and Stephen chuckled.
"I'll take that as a yes."
Fifteen minutes later and Connor was feeling slightly better - well enoguh to
sit and eat breakfast with Stephen. He kept shooting little glances at the man.
He couldn't figure out why he'd brought him here, to the flat, and had done
nothing; besides that, there was the fact that neither of them had outright said
that they both knew of the incident three years ago, but they both knew the
other knew.
Connor took another long gulp of tea when he realized how little sense that
thought made.
"Logic's generally out the window when it comes to thinking straight in a
hangover, innit?" He asked Stephen, choosing to stay away from the topic they
both seemed to be avoiding.
The blue-eyed man snorted, shaking his head.
"I haven't been drunk in a while, so I'm not sure."
"You weren't drunk last night?"
Stephen shook his head.
"So that's why..." Connor trailed off, not sure where he was going with that
thought. He looked at him, narrowing his eyes slightly. "You remembered me, us,
that night, didn't you?" The words slipped past his hold, and he blushed.
Stephen paused in munching on his toast, before he resumed. After a moment,
he sighed.
"I knew who you were the moment you started running after Nick and I."
Stephen admitted. "I was..." He poked at the toast on his plate with a finger,
pushing it around. "You ran out the next morning, and we didn't see each other
for 3 years. I'd finally convinced myself that it had really just been a one
time thing... and then you come running up, bumbling as always," Connor was
quite confused by this time, and the fondness in Stephen's tone made him even
more so, "and I wanted to turn around and kiss you on the spot."
Connor gaped at him across the little table.
"What?!"
"I fancied you before that night, Conn, and I messed up. When you ran out
before I'd even woken up, I assumed you were... ashamed, embarassed, or
something... And when I never saw you again, I thought that meant you didn't
want it at all, or you'd forgotten. I couldn't very well have kissed you then."
Stephen continued, the words coming easier now, like he'd released water from a
dam. Connor was still looking gormless.
"But you wanted to?"
"Still want to, to be honest."
"Huh."
"Wanted to last night, and more than that, too, but I'd already made that bad
decision once." Connor looked hurt, and Stephen amended, "Sleeping with you
before asking you out on a date."
"Oh." They sat there quietly for a few moments. "So you want to kiss me right
now?" Connor asked slowly, dark eyes meeting Stephen's gaze. He looked at the
younger man, taking in the hair rumpled from sleep, a bit of jam on the bottom
lip, a hint of mischief and a lot of interest in the dark eyes, scruff uneven
and in need of a shave. Stephen nodded, lips quirking into a smile as he met the
other man's gaze.
"Yes." Stephen said.
Connor's heart skipped a beat somewhere between the hungry look in Stephen's
eyes, the low growl of his voice, and the oh-so sexy smirk on his lips.
"What're you waiting for, then?" He couldn't help but drawl, grinning when
Stephen's eyes darkened. He still squeaked rather embarassingly when his friend
leaned forwards over the table, cupped Connor's jaw, and captured his lips in a
kiss that took both their breaths away.
It was several long moments before they paused, and they'd moved to the
couch, where they sat next to each other, knees touching. Connor turned on the
tele, but Stephen muted it so he could snog Connor again, and the appreciative
moan that fell from the other gave him no indication to stop. So he didn't, not
until they needed to breathe again.
Their feelings were mostly still unspoken, and they had a multitude of issues
to work out, at some point, but they both knew that there was more to this than
enjoying some snogging and the possibility of sleeping together. And neither of
the two were in any doubt that the other felt the exact same way.
"So... can I move in with you? 'Cause Abby's been on me tail a lot, 'n it was
only s'pposed to be temporary, me stayin' with her..." Connor's babblign was cut
short by another, more chaste kiss.
"Of course, if you want to."
(At some unspecified later date/time...)
"Oi!"
"What?"
"You lied!"
"What? When?" Stephen called from the other room. Connor madea great deal of
noise, feet clad in mis-matched, colorful socks, as he walked from their room to
the sofa, plopping down next to him.
"That time, at the pool! Y' told me tha' I wasn't your type!"
Stephen laughed. Connor kissed him to make him stop.
The End...
For now...