"Don't confine yourself to one particular type of human because I reckon things come out of the blue when you least expect them and don't hold yourself to expectations...
"Ugh, what's the deal with straight boys and their love for tank tops?"
Troye followed Tyler's irritated glare, taking a sip of beer with a chuckle. "I don't know. At least, they are nice to look at," he replied, trying to howl down the blasting music of the party.
"Hell no. I've never seen so much armpit hair in my life, and I've fucked my fair share of bears," his best friend rolled his eyes and continued to stare, "I mean, they are on the swim team, aren't they supposed to shave their whole bodies? It's like basic physics."
Troye laughed a little at that, eyeing the noisy boys inconspicuously. He could concede that Tyler certainly had a point, but countered, nevertheless, "Still, they are quite easy on the eyes. I would do any of them any day."
Tyler just swatted his hand indignantly, "Honey, it's called 'cheerleader effect'. They seem hot because they are always attached at the hip. If you were to look at them separately, they aren't really that attractive."
Troye cocked his head, inspecting the four boys closely. They all wore similar striped tank tops, and shorts, two of them even wearing matching snapbacks, which made them look kind of alike, but Troye noticed that their physical appearance was, in fact, different.
One was extremely tall and skinny, with a tattooed sleeve and a pierced nose. Another was shorter, had messy dark hair and more masculine build, tattoos again scattered over his forearms and shoulders. The third one looked the most groomed, with his hair styled up in a tall quiff, and impressive biceps and pecs that Troye could appreciate even from afar. The last one was shorter than his friends, his face nice but not dashingly handsome, body moderately well-built but, apart from that, he had nothing memorable about him.
Troye scoffed, "Yeah, you are right. They look kinda bland."
He turned away from the obnoxious boys, who were currently engrossed in a game, flipping red cups gracelessly. "Let's see what Casp is up to," Troye led his friend away from the boys. As he was leaving, he heard one of them shriek loudly and swear at the others. Troye just sighed in mild irritation.
It turned out that Caspar was up to violently puking in the bushes in the backyard. Joe, pretty hammered himself, towered over him unsteadily, patting Caspar's back, as the latter dry-heaved.
"Gosh, are you alright?" Tyler crouched next to Caspar's form. The drunk boy just gave him a thumbs-up, clearly in no condition to speak properly yet.
"You need some water, mate?" Joe slurred.
Caspar shook his head, trying to steady his breaths, and stood up, wiping his mouth with a back of his hand, "I'd rather eat something. Do you think they've got pizza?"
Tyler fought the urge to poke fun at him, answering earnestly instead, "There is probably some food inside. Let's go check it out."
When they stumbled to the ruined kitchen, they managed to find on the table some leftover chips and hot dog buns without actual sausages, but nothing to satisfy Caspar's drunk munchies.
"I want pizza!" he whined loudly, with Joe just patting his back again.
"I guess, we could go to Pizza Hut?" Tyler asked dubiously.
"We've drunk too much to drive, Tilly." Troye frowned, hating to be the most reasonable one.
Caspar plopped down on the floor with a thud, leaning his back on the counter, with his legs spread widely, like a child. "Someone else can drive us," he wrinkled his forehead, looking at Joe in question, "Connor?"
Tyler laughed, "Connor is out there with his fuckboys, smashed beyond possible as always."
"CONNOR!!!" ignoring Tyler, Caspar yelled over the music from his position on the floor.
Apparently, it was loud enough, because in a few seconds a confused boy in a snapback appeared in the doorway. Troye recognized him as one of the boys about whom he was talking to Tyler earlier, the one with no tattoos or anything.
"What the fuck?" Connor seemed disgruntled.
Caspar pouted at him, "I wanna go get pizza."
"You have my blessing, Caspar," Connor raised a skeptical brow.
Joe stumbled across the room awkwardly, and gave the other boy a side hug, "Drive us?"
"No."
Joe hugged him tighter, "Drive us?"
Connor made an irritated grimace, "I'm drunk, Joe."
Joe grabbed Connor even in a stronger hold, his hands circling the boy's neck, tilting his cap, "Drive us? We know you haven't been drinking."
Connor pursed his lips angrily but sighed in defeat, disentangling himself from Joe to give Caspar a menacing look, "If you throw up in my car, I swear I will make you eat your own vomit."
Troye, wincing at the choice of words, exchanged glances with Tyler.
"Let's go," Connor patted his pockets, fishing out the car keys and helping Caspar up.
Troye grabbed Caspar's wrist with a worried look, "Are you fucking serious? He is fucked up, he's gonna get pulled over or worse."
Connor stared at him calmly, "Don't fret, I'm fine."
And looking at him, Troye could believe that. If before, surrounded by his friends, he seemed inebriated, his movements slow and his gaze glassy, now his eyes, glancing over Troye, were cold, almost dismissive, but certainly not drunk.
"I was sick last week, and I'm still on my meds. I can't drink just yet," he clarified for Troye's benefit, looking over to Caspar and Joe and leading them to the door. Before leaving the room, he turned to Tyler and Troye, "Are you guys coming or not?"
Tyler looked at Troye apologetically, "I'm kinda hungry." Troye just cursed silently, and followed everyone to the car, stomping louder than necessary.
The ride to the Pizza Hut turned out to be even less pleasant than Troye had expected, because somehow all three of Connor's fuckboys managed to tag along with them. Troye was pretty sure that even though the boy behind the wheel was sober, they would still get in trouble if they were to be pulled over, since there were currently eight people in the vehicle designated for five. Joe and Troye, being the skinniest ones, were squished in the passenger seat together, while other five boys managed to stuff themselves onto the back seat.
Tyler, slightly flustered, occupied the tall fuckboy's lap, but didn't utter a single word of complaint, to Troye's dismay. It seemed that Troye was the only one to be angry to be pulled along in an unsafe car with a questionable driver to get some pizza at 4 fucking a.m.
"Con, what the hell are you listening to?" one of the fuckboys asked, at which Troye tuned into the song. Oddly, it was the song he knew well and liked a lot.
"Fuck you, JC," Connor deadpanned, but switched the song nevertheless.
Do it, do it, do it now, lick it good, lick this, just like you should. My neck, my back...
Troye scrunched his nose in distaste, and turned to look out of the window, trying to tune the abhorrent sounds out.
The pizza place was predictably empty, given the late hour. Troye, still more drunk than sober, just slumped grumpily in the corner seat, his eyes searching for Tyler. His friend was standing at the checkout, in the middle of an animated conversation with Joe and Connor. The boy in the cap seemed to look incredulous for a split second at something Tyler had said, before bursting out in loud giggles. Troye noticed that his face and neck flushed, when he laughed.
Troye averted his gaze, when the group returned to the table, and pretended to listen to what one of the fuckboys was telling.
"...and then I told him that he could shove his money up his..."
"What's wrong with you, boo?" Tyler asked him, as he slid on the chair next to him. Troye just shook his head, reaching out to the tray to grab a soda. Unfortunately for him, Caspar reached for the same soda at the same exact moment, their arms colliding and sending the cup in question spilling on the floor.
"Shit!"
Before Troye could even do anything, Connor was beneath him, calmly dabbling the spillage with paper towels, swiftly collecting them in a cup, putting a lid on and throwing it in the nearest garbage bin. He sprinted over to the checkout and grabbed some more paper towels to wipe the table and the floor once again. Within a minute, the mess was completely straightened without as much as a single word from the boy.
Troye smiled at him apologetically, reaching across the table to grab his hand in silent gratitude. Connor gave him a perplexed look, before taking away his hand abruptly from the table, and didn't return the smile.
"You are such a mom," a hunky guy in a tank top laughed wholeheartedly, draping his arm across Connor's shoulders, "Always cleaning up."
"That's because you're pigs, Ricky," Connor laughed in spite of his mean comeback, and took off his cap to put it on Ricky's head, messing up the other boy's tall hairstyle in process.
Troye had to admit that without his ridiculous snapback Connor looked much better. His hair, previously styled up, fell flat against his forehead, standing up at the ends at random just so, which gave him a boyish look, and when he smiled, everyone could see how his eyes, earlier covered by the peak, lit up in joy.
He looked anything, but bland to Troye.
Following Troye's gaze, Tyler leaned into him and whispered. "You're so thirsty." At his surprised glare, Tyler just laughed his usual cackle and didn't say anything more.
A/N Hope you like it, I really do) kudos to you for getting HIMYM reference
I intend to update once or twice a week, since I've got it mapped out in my head already.
Hereinafter the title of the chapters are the epithets Troye uses to describe Connor in his head. Next chapter's title - "Attractive"