Attachments (Tronnor AU)

Matter

noun

     • what a thing is made of; material; whatever occupies space and is perceptible to the senses; any specified substance;  content of thought or expression; a quantity; a thing or affair; significance; trouble, difficulty.

intransitive verb

       •to be of importance. 

Troye's no longer nervous as he steps through the intricately carved wooden door Connor's holding open for him. His hands no longer tremble with the earthquakes that could destroy their glass home in one easy shake, eyes no longer wide with the distance stretching between him and his comfort zone. His breaths aren't ragged with the remnants of a life no boyfriend's family would approve of, thoughts no longer scattered with the feeling of leaving a home he doesn't really have in the first place.

Connor's mother smiles where she takes his coat from him, hooking it on the wall by the entrance as she leads him graciously into what must be the living room. He glances behind him, just to check that the one person he actually knows is still behind him, and catches Connor's minutely confused eyes with an open expression of his own. He's pretty sure some of the warmth this house holds seeps into it, around the edges of his lips and the corners of his eyes, but he can't be sure without a mirror to check.

There's a girl on the couch, who's legs Connor's mother shoves off the coffee table with a huff and the kind of scolding look only a parent can manage, and her head whips round to face him when she realizes they've arrived. The book in her hands miraculously finds its way to the floor.

"Oh my God," she gasps, pulling herself up immediately with open eyes and the brilliant grin this family all seems to share. It's proving to be a rather popular phrase today, apparently.

"Nikki, don't be weird," Connor cuts in from behind them, standing in the doorway to the living room with a worried aspect to his face. Troye tries to give him a reassuring look, he really does, because he doesn't actually mind all the fussing as much as he'd thought he would, but he probably doesn't manage it very well. He's never had to reassure anyone of anything that wasn't fake or for the sake of protecting the other children in any of the given foster homes he spent his childhood in.

"I'm never weird!" Connor's sister, Nicola, protests loudly. It's got the entire force of a moody teenage girl behind it, accompanied by the haughty indignation of a younger sibling. The nasty look she gives her brother doesn't last long, as she's turning bright eyes back to Troye in a matter of mere seconds. They look a little blue where they're meant to be white, but he doesn't give it much thought. Connor's mentioned her illness before, anyway. "So you're Troye?"

Troye glances back at the person who obviously provided her with this information, silently wondering what else he's told his family. He already knows they've received pictures, which he really can't blame Connor for because his gift with a camera is always something to be celebrated, no matter the subject of his photographs. "Uh, yeah."

Nicola gasps again, rushing forward to pull him into a hug that's ended before Troye can even process it having started. "Finally!" she exclaims excitedly, but there's something uncomfortable in the way her eyes rake down his body. "Mom told me how much Connor's been talking about you and I'm like, 'if he's this obsessed, we have to meet you!' You know? And now you're here! And we're meeting you! And you're hot!"

"Uh," Troye replies, shifting his feet. Maybe he shouldn't have tried to reassure Connor, after all.

"Nikki," the man in question groans, slipping further into the room until his presence is a warm comfort at Troye's side. "Stop, you're being gross."

But Nicola doesn't stop. Instead, she rolls her eyes and shoots her brother a look like he's being ridiculous, before turning her attention back to Troye and grinning in a way that seems a little tight around the edges. "What? It's true. I mean look at those-"

"Nicola," their mother cuts her off this time, a stern look on her face as she purses her lips. She's giving Troye an almost apologetic look, the kind you might offer to someone who's secrets you know and landmines you can tell are about to be stomped on. It has him swallowing hard, trying to wash down the feeling that she's not going to like him having landmines at all. "Call your father and tell him the boys are here now, please. He should be getting off work soon."

The teenager makes a noise of distaste, apparently oblivious to the fact that it's a clear ploy to get her out of the room and focusing more so on being assigned a chore of any kind. Reluctantly, she gives her new fixation one last uncomfortably indiscernible look before heading upstairs to find her phone.

Connor lets out an audible sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry," he comments honestly, wrapping an arm around Troye's waist to sidle up against his side. Troye just lets out a breathy laugh in response, leaning further into him as it comes out a little shaky.

Cheryl watches them with a soft expression on her face, not at all offended that she's apparently been forgotten entirely. "Well," she says. "I think I'd best be starting dinner now."

She's gone. Connor wraps his other arm around Troye's waist, too, like that's where it's always been meant to go and it's simply been torturous not having it there. Troye lets out the breath he's been holding since Nicola sprung up from the couch, closing his eyes as he basks in the warmth of the body pressed against his.

He can do this, he tells himself. It'll be fine.

A/N: I felt like it was important to inform you (as most of you don't follow my twitter @TaiteSimone) that updates will be much slower up until the first week of February. I have exams at the end of this month and a lot of things to deal with, so I've been having trouble finding the time to focus on this. I'm sorry and I love you all and I know you'll all be as sweet and understanding as you always are, so thank you in advance <3

That being said, yelling at me for updates is 85% effective so feel free to do so. Half the time I've honestly just completely forgotten about writing, or am under the impression that no one's really waiting for the next part anyway. I will never be mad if you bug me for another chapter xx

Also, I've posted the first chapter of a little thing called Estrangements to make up for it, which you should definitely check out. It's not a must for this story, but I feel like it definitely adds to it, not to mention clears up a lot of your questions about what's up with Dan. It'll be significantly shorter than Attachments (65 chapters versus the 115 this one's making out to be) and is Phan, for those of you wondering.