Everything I Never Told You ( Conan Gray )

XXVII. Really Really

Conan reluctantly grabbed a can of beer and chugged it all down. 

"Y-Yo...ur eyes are, like, really...golden," Conan slurred, almost dozing off against Heath's chest. He seemed really uncomfortable in the position but he didn't want to move him either. The storm had advanced and they had been hoping the porch would remain unaffected but it wasn't. Rain had poured down like god's wrath itself. They hadn't even begun roasting marshmallows. The only person who didn't seem very bothered was Conan. He had gotten so high with five cans of beer that Heath to practically carry him. He had been giggling all the way and he could have sworn that he even tried to kiss him once. Lim was really tired from all the fun she had during the day and she dozed off on her bed pretty quickly. She refused to share with Conan too. Heath didn't blame her. He was spewing crap and probably wouldn't let her sleep. Lim hated the smell of alcohol too. The moment Conan had stumbled inside their room, he had taken off his shirt, whining that it was too hot. 

"Thanks," he said. "I got them from my great grandfather."

"Is he single?" Conan giggled, his face entirely flushed red and sweaty. "Because I would love to date anybody from your gene pool."

"He is dead," he said, sounding more serious than ever. Why was he acting so dark around someone who was clearly drunk? Gods, he really needed to get his shit together. 

"Too bad," he said, frowning and touching his cheek. He turned his face to meet his eyes. His heart almost stopped when he saw Conan's angular brown eyes. He looked too sensual at the moment, half naked, tanned and dotted with freckles. 

"Is there anyone else with eyes like yours?" He wouldn't leave his face. Even though he was drunk, he seemed to understand he would look away. He looked away because he knew if he looked at him any for longer, he wouldn't be able to look away. 

"N-No," he stuttered, "Just me."

"That beauty surpassed so many but not you," his mother used to say. She had odd way of calling him special. 

Conan groaned with a painful expression over his face. He shifted his legs on top of the sheets. "I hate being cold."

"I will fetch your shirt," he said. Conan giggled, slapping his chest. "No, silly. Just hug me."

"No, thank you," Heath said, gulping. He settled the boy so he wouldn't slump down and picked his shirt from the floor. He pulled it by the sleeves and tried to push his arms into it. After five minutes of failed attempts, Heath gave in. He threw the shirt in the air angrily and Conan giggled for what seemed like the millionth time.  

"Does this mean you will cuddle me?" 

"No," he said, but then he saw the boy frown. "I mean-maybe. Yes."

"Ya..y!" he said clapping his hands and beckoning him. Involuntarily, he laughed and settled beside. The boy clung onto him like a parasite and soon feel asleep, drooling on his favourite shirt. 

Conan woke up to the Californian sun kissing his skin. The first weird thing he noticed was that he was not wearing a shirt. He had been sleeping bare chested on the bed like some barnyard animal. The second thing he noticed was that he had a terrible headache. It was like multiple hammers were hitting on the walls of his nerves from the inside. Lastly, he was sleeping with someone else. His arm was thrown around Heath whose arm was locked around his waist. 

Did I...do it? With him?

He blushed furiously at the thought. No, he probably hadn't. He still had half of his clothes on. He inhaled sharply as Heath shifted under his hand. He looked so pretty and calm when he was asleep. It was exhilarating to see him like this, away from all of the suffering. 

Conan brushed his hand across his perfect brows and kissable lips. He stirred in his sleep again and Conan just stared at him, not wanting to wake him up. 

"I really like you," he whispered and out of impulse touched his hand that was touching his waist. "I really really like you."

He brushed patterns on his hand, his nails skimming along his skin and tracing patterns. "I just wish you would like me back."

Conan closed his eyes picturing the boy kissing him. How his lips would move against his own. If he kissed him once, he wouldn't be able to stop because-

"Conan?"