Attachments (Tronnor AU)

Ease

noun

       • freedom from pain, discomfort or disturbance; rest from effort or work; effortlessness; lack of inhibition or restraint, naturalness.

transitive verb

       • to relieve from pain, trouble or anxiety; to relax, make less tense, release; to move carefully and gradually.

intransitive verb (often with off)

       • to become less active, intense, or severe.

A week later, Connor collapses onto the end of their bed in exhaustion, staring up at the ceiling as he stresses over the first assignment for his lighting class. He's torn between excitement over pairing up with the fashion and cosmetology majors and despair over having to photograph fifteen different moods. He's not even sure there are fifteen different moods.

"You okay?" a soft voice interrupts, Connor's craned head greeting him with the sight of Troye slipping casually into the room. He's got sheet music in hand, another lesser known fugue of Bach's, and his cheeks are bitten with the cold from beyond the door Connor didn't hear open.

He pushes himself upright with a heavy sigh, mumbling, "Yeah, just school. Fucking lighting teacher trying to murder us all, as per usual."

Troye blinks. "You're fucking your lighting teacher?"

"What? No. No! I said she's trying to kill me."

"Oh," Troye replies, not looking any more reassured. "Call the cops?"

Rolling his eyes, Connor laughs as he grabs his boyfriend by the hips and pulls him in close. Troye grins brilliantly down at him, stood between Connor's legs where they hang off the bed, and drops his hands to the nape of his neck. They're cold, frosted by the winter now in full swing, but the touch itself is warm and sweet and Connor finds he doesn't really care about his lighting assignment anymore. He loves this, loves the body in his arms and the ocean eyes caressing his features and the hot breath tracing his lips when Troye cranes his head down to kiss him.

It's soft and simple, lips on lips and fingers toying with his hair, but there's a firm quality to it that seems to find its way into all their actions. It's insistent and constant, building up to changes and the unknown at a steady but gentle pace, and Connor draws Troye even closer as it deepens.

[Removed sex scene]

He's half asleep and half lost in this intense feeling of intimacy, of connection and proof of a trust he once thought he'd never be able to earn, when he finds himself muttering almost inaudibly, "Move in with me. Like, officially."

Troye doesn't tense or freeze or go uncomfortably silent like he'd expected him to. Instead, he offers a brief moment of pensive quiet before snorting out a laugh and easing further into him as he settles down to sleep. "Ask me again when you're fully conscious, yeah?"

Connor's pretty sure he makes some noise of agreement, but it's low and exhausted as he succumbs to the night pressing against their windowpanes. Either way, it doesn't really matter.

Two days later, as they're watching morning cartoons and cuddling close together, Connor asks again. Troye rolls his eyes like he didn't even really have to ask, but agrees nonetheless.