Dear Evan Hansen Oneshots // DEH

Two [SINCERELY THREE] [PART ONE]

request. sorry, three days late.

unedited
~~~

connor

"This- this is shit!" Evan exclaimed, grabbing onto my hand forcefully, "I'm six feet tall!" No, he was not. I was six feet tall and he wasn't even an inch or two below me. Maybe more like 5"6 or 5"7.

"No, you aren't." I mumble sharply, wishing he wouldn't do this to himself; get into fights with strange men on the streets of the city.

"That's what I said!" A man yelled out, although he was nearly a few feet away. Evan tugged at my hand, stomping away from the scene. He looked angry, although he probably wasn't. Just annoyed, maybe, or amused. Either way, at the end of the night, Evan would be stumbling home drunk in my arms, begging for a sweet kiss.

I smiled, opening the door for Evan as we walked into the small bar we always visited. It was cheap and inexpensive, just like how we liked it.

Evan sat down first and stared at me.

I ordered for him, the usual drink he got. For myself, a glass of water.

Evan greedily drank the drink as soon as it came and I took a look around, glancing at the newcomers. Many wandering the streets of New York were tourists. You could tell a tourist apart by their outfit, hairdo, makeup, accent, even age. Being eldery and living in the city was expensize, they mostly kept to small towns.

On one side of the bar, a brown-haired man caught my eye.

"I'll have another." I heard Evan say, in the back of my mind. The bartender nodded out of the corner of my eye and began making Evan's drink again.

The brown-haired man locked eyes with me. For a solid ten seconds, we stared at each other. Neither of us blinked. The man ran his hand through his hair, making it somehow look even better. I blinked. He laughed, walking over to me. His steps were fast and steady.

"What's your name?" He didn't have an accent, but his clothes were new and trendy. His hair was tousled and he didn't loom tired. His shoes were Gucci sandals, socks underneath. Around thirty, my age. He was a tourist.

"Connor. Connor Murphy."

"Connor," A different voice repeated, "Connor Murphy..." The attached person to this voice was my drunk boyfriend, stumbling into my lap. Hm, he had gotten drunk quicker than usual. I kissed him hard and fast, sticking my tongue in for a quick taste.

"What's your name?" I asked my staring contest partner.

He looked at Evan, who wriggled in my lap like a toddler at the attention, "Oh! Stop it!" He muttered flirtatiously, blinking rapidly.

"Um, Jared," Jared answered, "Jared Klienman."

"Jared," Evan got up and I almost stopped him, before realizing I was alright with what was happening, "Jared Klienman..." He placed his arms around said man's neck, lacing his hands together, "You're cute... I like Connor Murphy and Jared Klienman."

It was a miracle he remembered my name drunk, so I let him kiss Jared as a reward.

When Evan pulled back, Jared was red.

"Well," I said, "It looks like both of us like you. What's your phone number, Jared Klienman?"

"Um," I really thought he was going to run away for a moment, but instead, Jared Klienman stood next to a drunk Evan and his sober (always) boyfriend, giving them his entire phone number.

~~~

does anyone want me to write a part two of this, in the future, when they are all dating?