Ned and Conor

Chapter 1

The entire team endlessly insisted on going to the pub after their win and, with hesitation, Conor and Ned agreed to join. Maybe it was the adrenaline, who knows. Currently, Ned was commentating on the racket that the boys were making in the public place, and sipping gingerly on a beer. Conor downing another "soda" from the pitcher the boys had ordered, unbeknownst to him the pitcher of soda was heavily spiked. Admittedly, the taste was off, but he assumed it was just poor quality.

By the end of the night, Conor was so knackered he couldn't walk straight. Ned laughed irrationally at things that weren't even slightly amusing, as the stumbles their way to the train station. The team had left earlier that evening, but Conor had said that he didn't want to return yet.

Returning to their rooms laughing, they slammed the door and managed to find amusement in the sound. They both collapsed onto their beds and for a few moments there was silence, but then, "Ned?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I come sleep with you?" Conor shamelessly asked.

Ned scoffed, "I guess, Conor."

Conor hesitantly arose, stumbling over and falling next to Ned on the firm bed. Ned was pushed up against the wall, turning away from Conor. "Ned?"

"Conor?"

"Why don't you face me?" Ned shrugged, turning over and looking at his reflection in Conor's big, brown eyes. Conor smiled a bit, getting comfortable in this position. Ned's eyes fluttered shut—pretending to be asleep—and Conor stared endlessly at Ned. Conor watched as Ned's face became peaceful, and content. Admiring his peace, even though at a close proximity, Conor longed for that. He knew there was absolutely no chance of him falling asleep. He stared at posters that speckled the walls, then back at Ned, then at Ned's guitar. it could've been an hour or minutes and Conor wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

Ned smirked in his sleep, muttering words under his breath. "I love you too. No one else." Ned muttered, Conor listened with widened eyes. Is he talking about me? In his drunkiness, Conor made possibly unreasonable assumptions. With his head filled with booze, he smirked, placing a cold hand on Ned's freckled cheek. In his sleep, Ned flinched at the touch. Conor leaned in, gracefully and carefully kissing Ned. Ned's loss of breath caused him to wake up, his eyes widening like a scared deer when he saw Conor's face pressed against his. He jumped to a sitting position, stumbling over words that got stuck in his throat. Conor watched, drowsily, and pulled Ned back down, closer to him. "Y-You're drunk, Conor." Conor smiled and laid a peck on Ned's scarlet cheek. Despite his resistance, Ned was nowhere near sobriety. He was equally as drunk, so his brain stopped rationalizing the situation and gave in to Conor's misdemeanors.

***

Sunlight bounced off of the boys' pale skin, reaching Ned's eyes as they fluttered open. Peering around he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, and his head made him slower to realizing the warmth that laid against him. Turning his head, he saw Conor's bare chest which lead to Conor's head that had made its way to relaxing against Ned's ginger hair. He sprung out of bed, noticing that he was feeling an immense chill—from lack of clothing. "Crap." Ned muttered under his breath, and muddled through Conor's clothing to find something to wear. His father and stepmother still had his suitcases and agreed to pick him up today instead. Yes, the principal continued to wish to expel Ned, despite him proving that he was a good person. Of course, Conor has no idea of this because, well, then he'd treat Ned differently...or fight the principal. Either one wasn't wanted. He stole a worn out t-shirt, jeans, and an old hoodie. Grabbing his bunched up clothes that lay dormant in a corner, he took one more glance at what he was leaving behind. It's crazy...before too long ago he would've been running out but now he wasn't sure he wanted to leave. He'd come to love this musty room, more importantly, he'd come to love the boy that laid calmly on the bed than once belonged to him. "Goodbye, Conor." He whispered into the crisp morning air, and lightly closed the creaky door behind him.