An Order For Two [ Tronnor Oneshots ]

movie shoot pt. 2

word count: 1738

{ con da bon's POV }

"So, you know Pentatonix?" I ask, still leaning heavily against the white door frame, watching Troye flip the cd over in his hands multiple times before turning to me.

"Just a little." he says, with a wink, before turning back around.

I chuckle, and start to walk towards him. "I'll take that as a yes."

Sitting down next to him, I cross my legs and pull out another one of their cd's. I hold it in my hands, inspecting it, even though I know every inch of it. Pentatonix is my favorite band, I have been following them since the Sing-Off.

"What do you think of Mitch and Scott?" Troye asks with curiosity clear in his voice.

I glance over him in shock, but train my focus back on my hands. "Uh, in what way?"

He chuckles, and I become slightly alarmed at how calm he sounds. "I mean, you're gay."

"Ah, alright. Yes, Mitch is very hot, and Scott is a noodle." As I answer, he flashes me a smile that made my heart melt. A smile that I would love to see again. As he turned back, I keep unmoved.

Looking at him, I realize how much I would love to be with him. To wake up in his arms, to hold him close and feel his warmth. To hold his hand, squeeze it tightly. To simply fall in love.

But I can't. He is more than likely straight, or uninterested in someone like me. I just can't develop a crush on him, even if it is small. I can't let him hurt me, and I can't let myself hurt him. So I would do what I always did whenever I developed crushes on more-than-likely straight guys. Ignore it.

Sighing, I stand up and make my way back to the couch. I fall back into it, spreading my arms out from my sides. I turn the tv on, scroll through a couple channels, before deciding to switch to Netflix. After two seconds of contemplating what movie to watch, I settle on White Chicks.

"White Chicks?" I hear from beside me, and look over to Troye jumping up in joy. I smile at his silly child-like behavior before turning back to the screen and pressing play.

"Ye-" I start to speak, only to be cut off by a tall brown-haired boy with ocean-blue eyes plopping onto the couch right next to me. There was no such thing as /space/, for our legs and arms were touching. I stiffened up unknowingly, but quickly relaxed and slightly smiled. Why was it this hard?

"S." I finnished, trying to be funny to brush off the awkward two seconds that had just occurred.

Instead of replying, Troye simply sat back and focused on the opening scene of the movie.

As the movie progressed, and we became drowsy, our eyelids drooping and shoulders slumping, I felt a small weight on my shoulder. I turned my head to see him half asleep, probably unaware as to what he was doing, with his head on my shoulder and his mouth slightly open. Ignoring the movie, I sat there watching as he fell asleep.

Time passed, and before I knew it, I was drifting out of consciousness, my eyes closing, and my head falling to the side.

'Should we wake them up?'

'Connor needs sleep, so I think we should just let them be.'

'Same goes for Troye. Is it alright if I crash here then?'

'Yeah, totally! Come with me.'

'Thank you, so much.'

_-•-_

"Hey. Pssst. Connor. Wake up. I made coffee."

Wide awake at the mention of coffee, I bring my hand to my eyes and try rubbing the sleep out of them. I feel a figure shift beside me, and when I turn to see what it is, I swear my heart skips a beat. Considering our position, my arm around his waist, and his arm slung over mine, you'd guess we are together. But we aren't. Scared I will push him away, I quickly jump up, brush myself off and shoot a smile at Peyton. Because I moved so quickly, Troye begins to stir.