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shadowling-guistical · 3 years

Text

Sit and Bleed.

Roman asks Remus for advice, and Remus delivers. In his own, mildly disturbing way. Somehow, bonding ensues.

Yeah idk either. I shared this to one of my friends and they said, and I quote, "Hey mishi i love you but wtf? Did remus posess you?"

So like, enjoy?

WARNING: Extensive blood talk, period talk, mild injury, mild gore, and generally just canon typical Remus shenanigans.

---

"Do you think that it's true?" Roman had asked him one day, "That writing is easy? That you could just sit at a typewriter and… And bleed?"

It had been dusk, and somehow, Roman had Imaginationed the setting sun to send it's final rays streaking across his room. From where Remus had been lying, splayed out on Roman's carpet like a human sacrifice waiting for a malevolent god, it looked sickeningly beautiful. The gold that bathed the room, the warmth and splendour, he thought it was just saccharinely horrid.

Roman turned his chair to face him. Remus turned his head. A heartbeat turned into two before he scoffed.

"Please," Remus idly picked his nose, rolling the products he found jammed up in his sniffer into a small hard ball and flicked it off to god knows where. He hoped it landed on Roman's pillow. "If writing were that easy, I'd twist my foot off and feed it to Virgil's tarantula,"

"It used to be,"

Remus sighed, swinging his legs up before he leapt onto his feet with a soft oof. Roman went back to his writing, ignoring the sound of Remus' spine popping when he straightened himself. The Duke sauntered to Roman's desk, looking over his shoulder to see…

Nothing.

Well, nothing substantial .

Bits of writing here, a doodle there, scratched out ideas at the corner, angry scribbles at another…Oof.

His twin must have noticed, because Roman’s tone was bitter.

“Not anymore,”

"Yeah well," Remus muttered, thinking of glittering yellow eyes filled with mischief and a sly smirk underneath a shadowy hood, "A lot of other things used to be easy too,"

"Well? What do you think?"

Riiiiight, typewriting and bleeding. Remus scoffed, "Well willya lookit that. You never asked me before, why start now?"

Roman groaned, "... Remus I’m serious here,"

"Hey! It's true," Remus swiped the paper and crumpled it into a ball. Without looking, he threw it over the shoulder. Roman scowled when he sees it bounce onto his bed, "What's up, Prince stink-a-lot? You ask me to come hang out. You didn't kick me out when I wiped boogers onto that skinned angora cat you call a carpet, and now you're asking me questions? What gives?"

"...it's just…"

God, it’s just this and it’s just that , Remus wanted to pull his hair out already. He wished Roman would just spit it out. Just vomit it out and get this over with. Really, getting his stupid twin to just spew whatever was rattling in that noggin if his was worse than pulling teeth out of a gator. And Remus would know, he tried it a lot over the years.

"I just wanted to be like you,"

And there it was, whatever thing that had been sitting in his twin’s gut like a 5 foot long tapeworm.

…

Like him.

Like Remus.

The Duke of Dastardly Deeds.

Mr. Dark and Disgusting himself.

Roman "Pretty Boy" Sanders wanted to be like him?

Remus leaned forward, far more amused than shocked.

"...You're fucking with me,"

"No, I am not," Roman was looking at him with those intense green eyes of his and woah… the guy really was serious, wasn't he?

Huh.

Curiosity reared it's head, familiar and cloying somewhere inside of Remus' stomach. Then again, it could have been the extra potent shaving cream he had over his deodorant earlier today. Who fucking knows.

"Why?" He finally asked.

"Because… You've always made it look so… easy," Shaking hands ran through unruly curls, "It comes easier for you than it did for me. Always did. Just— How do you do it, Remus?"

The other twin considered it for a moment.

Had it really? Admittedly, Remus didn’t really notice it. He hummed. Sit on a typewriter and let yourself bleed , huh?

Well. He apparently had a crisis to handle.

Remus leaned against Roman's desk. Lightly, he ran rough, clumsy fingers on a splotch of dried ink absorbed into wood.

The tone that his Other Half (Don't make it weird Tumblr, he didn't mean that way. So put those pitchforks down and back away. Thanks.) had used while gesturing to the stack of papers and feather quills on his desk now morphed into disgust, "it feels like I just don't have any flowing in me anymore,"

"Well duh," long, dirty fingernails tapped against polished wood, "It's because bleeding isn't supposed to be easy, you doofus," He sighed, and Roman’s expression caused him to nearly want to groan and drape himself over the table. God, it was so fucking obvious that Roman really had no idea, did he? "You know, If you wanna go all gross metaphor with me, you gotta at least not half ass it,"

"Okay, but half ass it how? That how the saying goes,"

With all the tact and delicacy of a blunt axe, Roman’s words were cut off.

"Then it's a shit saying,"Before Roman could protest, "Look do you want me to help or not? Yeah? Then good. Just shut up for a sec and spill the juicy details," Pause, "Okay, what do you know about periods?"

Roman stiffened, obviously beginning to not like where the conversation was steered to. Because not even Jesus could take the wheel when Remus was behind it. However, Roman reluctantly let his shoulders relax when his twin brushed him off with an eye roll. Cautiously, because Remus still needs to be handled much like a skunk would.

"Remus— “

"Oh just relax. This is going somewhere. Trust me. And I won't do any shit I can't clean up. Just answer the question,"

Roman looked queasy, but swallowed heavily. He supposed he did ask, "I guess, just what Thomas learned in Sex Ed,"

Hm, he could work with that.

"So absolutely shit! Great! I just love the educational system in Florida. Wonderful. Wish the Nerdy Wolverine was here to tell you. But you only got me so it'll have to do— Should've prepared a whole musical number about it too—"

Remus held out his palms, and Roman sees the skin tighten. It strained and stretched before it ripped into a bloody gash. Roman grimaced, the other unperturbed. In fact, he daresay Remus looked curious. Like he was mulling over what to say.

"Eh, Follow up— Have" Remus let the blood pool into his cupped hands. A tablespoonful turned into a cupful and soon it was overflowing. He tipped his hand so that the blood dribbled down. Drip drip drip, a small stream of blood hit the floor in splatters, "Have you seen it before? Period blood?"

"What?” Oh god, he feels like he could gag, “Gross—! No of course not,"

Remus rolled his eyes.

"Unfeminist much?" The dry tone was met with protest.

"I'm not!—" Roman spluttered, "I don't go around looking for what comes out of people's pants, Remus!"

"Yeah yeah, but did you know they're chunky though?"

"I— What the fuck Remus?"

"Just...humour me for a sec. So they're chunky," Remus sort of flicked his hand, sending smaller droplets flying. A particularly large droplet streaked across Roman’s floor, "Thick goopy, disgusting— Hey, think of that the next time you scoop out some Crofters eh?"

Well, there nearly goes Roman's lunch.

"Oh god.” He pushed down the tickle at the back of his throat, “Please don't— Just, get to the point,"

"Okay okay. Jeez. The point is," two scarred, calloused hands rubbed together, letting the blood smear, "Is that even blood flows differently,"

The hands raised up, tinged red and both of them marred with an angry, red, jagged tear.

"Look at this shit. See? Not everything that comes out is the same. Some places will drip. Others flow and some? They're chunky. That's just how it is. you can't expect chunky blood to flow as easily as fresh blood,"

Without letting Roman mull on the morbid metaphor, he ploughed on.

"Oh yeah— And blood coagulates. It dries up and turns to scab. It won't stay bleeding forever. It's not supposed to. And expecting it to is just stupid, so write that down with your fancy quill,"

Blinking, Roman's mind slowly caught up with him.

Flowing blood and drying and scabbing— He soon deflated.

Oh.

Oh…

He just watched wordlessly as Remus wiped his hand against the fabric of his outfit. Flakes of dried blood sprinkled down joining the droplets on the ground like some sort of morbid snow.

" And just in case you forget, because of course you do. Scabbing is good. Personal experience guaranteed. It heals things. Plus…" the hand with the cut waved again. Exaggeratedly, mockingly, and even Roman couldn't help but to crack a smile, "You gotta make a pretty deep cut if you wanna bleed a lot,"

Maybe Roman was imagining the softer tone that Remus had let bleed into his voice.

"And if you bleed a lot, you gotta let yourself scab,"

A long, slow exhale.

He had to let himself scab.

"And… You've kinda been bleeding a lot, didn’tcha?"

"I…" Roman swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, "...Yeah...I think so,"

"Been making some huge cut lately to get it flowing?…"

"...Mmmm…" Shaking breaths, fragile and soft. Okay… okay… "Remus?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you… do you think I can… I should—"

Should he stop?

"... Course you could, you stupid bleeding heart…" a hand found itself in Roman's hair, gently carding it. Really, almost petting it, "...But fuck Ro, if that isn't the thing we all love about you, you doof. Of course you can. And you should. In fact, I am telling you to,"

Hesitantly, a pair of arms circled themselves over Roman's shoulder, pulling him close.

Remus didn't mention it when he saw broad shoulders decorated in tassels begin to shake. He didn't pay attention to the soft sobs that sent a Prince, unwavering and strong, shaking. He didn't care about the way Roman's face had crumpled.

"It's time to let it scab, Roman. And try not to pick at it too much,”

Outside, the figure that had been leaning against the door for the better part of the last 10 minutes smiled.

Heh… Credit where credit's due, he supposed.

He tilted his bowler hat forward and began walking down the hallway. No need to worry.

Who knew that the Duke had it in him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #creativitwins #remus sanders #roman sanders #ts remus #ts roman #tw blood #tw periods #tw mild gore

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machihunnicutt · 7 years

Text

Not Selfish

Chapter 2

(Or read on ao3.)

Evan read the Wikipedia page three times in his bed that night. He knew he needed to fall asleep but he couldn't. When Connor had talked about his polyamorous friend he hadn't made it sound weird or bad and neither did the Internet (for the most part at least.) And the more he thought about that the more he thought about kissing Jared and Connor and the more he thought about kissing them the hotter his face felt and harder it was to close his eyes. He got up to get some water, tiptoeing across the wood floor.

To his surprise the light in the kitchen was still on.

"Jared? What are you doing up it's almost 3 am."

Jared turned to look at him. His face was open in a way it wasn't usually and it took him a moment to clear the emotion from his features. "Hey Ev," he said sharply. "I'm uh...I'm making ramen and a microwave mug cake."

"Oh." Shitty microwave food at three in the morning meant Jared was upset. "Can I join you?" Evan took a seat at the kitchen table.

"Sure," Jared said, wiping his nose discreetly on the back of his hand. "Do you want some ramen and/or cake?"

"I could go for some cake." Jared flicked on the radio to the oldies station and the gentle hum of some 50s slow song filtered in. He put the mug between them and started in on his ramen.

"Are you okay? You're eating your sad food."

Jared blushed and spooned some more of the ramen into his mouth. "It's nothing. I just can't sleep."

"Me too," he muttered. "Hey um..." oh God why was he so nervous. "C-Connor mentioned his um...his p-polyamorous friend today. I d-didn't know that was a thing."

Jared raised an eyebrow but remained silent so he continued. "W-what do you uh what do you think about that?"

Jared cocked his head to one side in confusion. "What do I think about polyamory?"

"I'm s-sorry that's a dumb question I shouldn't have..."

"I think that it it makes you happy go for it. You being a general you not you specifically...not that I'm excluding you. You can do whatever you want."

Evan bit his lip. "Do you think you'd ever be into it?"

"Me?" Jared's eyes widened and Evan wanted to crawl under a rock. "Oh, c'mon Evan there's no way one guy would be interested in me, let alone two."

"That's not true."

"Evan you don't have to lie to me just because I look and feel like shit."

"So there is something wrong?"

Jared winced.

"And I'm not lying. And you don't look like shit. You n-never look like shit."

Jared looked down at his ramen again and stuffed another spoonful in his mouth. Evan tried a bite of the mug cake and tried to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. It was a stupid, reckless thing to ask but he was glad he'd asked it.

"Do you wanna talk about what's bothering you?"

Jared shook his head. "I'm sorry Ev I'm just being a baby." He ran a hand through his hair and Evan frowned.

"You know you can talk to me about anything right?"

"I know. Thanks Ev." Jared still looked sad. He hated that he was sad. The radio continued its melancholy sputtering of old love songs.

"Do you want to dance?"

"Dance?" Jared nearly choked on his ramen.

"W-we don't have to I j-just thought.."

"Fuck yeah Evan," he said quietly, almost a whisper, that didn't fit with the words.

Jared's hand was gentle on his waist. They swayed close together. Evan was nervous that his hand was sweaty but Jared hadn't said anything about it so they just kept swaying.

"Thanks Evan," Jared muttered, and he could feel his breath on his neck.

When the song ended and they broke apart Evan didn't step back right away. His eyes fell to Jared's lips like some lovestruck idiot.

"I should probably go to bed," he said softly.

"Right, me too."

"Goodnight Ev."

"Goodnight Jared." *** "I need you to put that down and then tell me what exactly you think you're doing."

Connor put down the bottle of glitter nail polish he'd stolen from Zoe's room and sighed exaggeratedly. "I painted them black like I usually do but something seemed wrong so I took the black off and tried green but then I forgot it wasn't dry and tried eating chips and messed them up. So I went for it a third time but I was kind of tired and distracted so now I have this." He held up his mangled nails: glitter on some, a mishmash of uncoordinated colors and smudges.

"I love you bro, but you only go nail crazy when there's something wrong. You took your meds this morning right?" Zoe asked, taking a seat across from him and reaching out to wipe the wet polish from his nails. "And don't take my glitter again this shit is expensive."

"Yeah I took my meds. And I'm fine. I just..." he trailed off. Zoe's worry sometimes made him feel guilty. Connor was used to feeling guilty (it was one of his few emotions that included anger, worthlessness, and pining.)

"It's just that I saw Hansen for the first time in a while yesterday."

She finished his nails and selected a deep indigo to redo them. "And that's bad because...?"

"It's not bad it's just that every time I've tried to get together with him before he has always had a date. Evan has a new date every week now."

"Our Evan?" She said, taken aback.

"Yeah...yesterday I remembered how much I missed him."

"And I assume you're also hella jealous?"

He scowled at her. "You could say that yeah but don't tell anyone."

She nodded sympathetically. "All these dates and he hasn't asked you out yet?"

Connor shrugged, eyes on the silver glitter she was now applying. His nails looked like tiny galaxies with glittering stars. "Maybe he just doesn't like me."

"Bullshit."

"He'll probably just ask Kleinman," he muttered.

She frowned. "Do you think Evan likes Jared?"

"It's more likely than him liking me." And Kleinman's not broken like I am, he didn't add. "In any case he's not dating either of us."

Zoe crossed her legs and pulled her hair into a ponytail at the top of her head. He thought she looked more authoritarian with her hair pulled out of her face. Maybe he did too. "You know I hit on a bunch of people before Alana and I started going out. I just wanted to make her jealous."

"I don't think he's doing that."

She sighed. "Look, obviously I don't know the whole situation but I do know you. And you always sell yourself short." He looked up at her. "It's not ridiculous for him to like you. You're very likable Con."

"Thanks," he muttered.

"You're very welcome. Do you want me to do your toes?"

From then on Connor spent more time at Evan and Jared's place, regardless of Evan's dates. When Evan wasn't around he just hung out with Jared. Which wasn't the worst thing in the world he soon realized. He'd actually started texting him more often too. And sometimes they got together for real, and not just to complain about being stuck without Evan.

"So when did you realize you had feelings for him?"

"Why so you can establish your right to call dibs?"

"Connor Murphy, he is a human being I can't call dibs on a human being I'm ashamed of you. Regardless I think we need to establish a timeline."

Connor laughed at the mock seriousness of Jared's expression. They were sitting at opposite sides of the couch, feet tangled together in the center cushion. Connor was doodling while Jared played some video game he hadn't caught the name of. After awhile he had paused it.

"Um...it was senior year. It's kind of stupid to say out loud because it was just this uh...this dumb little moment in high school. He knew I was having a bad day and he was giving me a ride so we could hang out at his place and he just pulled into the drive through at McDonalds and got me fries and ice cream and uh...I'd never really had someone who knew when I felt like shit and went out of their way to make me feel better. And when he handed me my fries and told me he was proud of me for getting through the day I just knew that I liked him."

Jared nodded slowly and Connor felt their feet tangle further, Connor barefoot with his toenails painted and Jared in his thick striped socks.

"How about you?" He asked when Jared didn't say anything.

Jared grinned. "Sophomore year. He climbed the tree in my back yard and when he got to the top he just laughed his head off like an idiot. I was on the ground still and I just remember looking up at him and thinking that I could look at him forever."

"Damn that's really gay."

Jared cackled. "Like you're one to talk." *** Okay so he'd be lying if he said he still didn't like Connor Murphy. He was growing on him: the way he took his coffee black next to Evan's mess of sugar and creamer, his eyes that looked intense even when he was tired or stoned, his soft stories about Evan and drive through fries and about the way loneliness ate at him sometimes. Only Connor didn't say the last thing lightly. Conversations about feelings happened when Evan was on a date and they both felt bitter and cracked open at their chests and knees and ankles. Connor would talk about the scars on his wrists and the lies his brain told him. Jared wasn't so forthcoming. He guessed, when he thought about it, he was used to bottling things up.

"I mean I don't tell my parents much. When I need to say something I know they don't want to hear I just lie."

"I guess I like pissing off my parents," he said. He was cooking a strange mess of eggs in one of Jared's frying pans. Connor Murphy tended to help himself in their kitchen. Although this time he was making food for the both of them. "That dude Evan's out with looks like he belongs in a fucking Wes Anderson movie."

"Yeah and you look like a Twilight extra but I don't say anything about it."

"You're so funny Kleinman," he replied in monotone. "Here, have some eggs a la Murphy." He put the mess of broken yolks and pepper speckled egg bits in front of him before dousing the mess in hot sauce.

"Thank you? I hope you're not trying to poison me Murphy."

Connor rolled his eyes and leaned his elbows on the counter. It was kind of late for eggs. It was nearly 10 and Evan wasn't back from his date yet. "I used to cook random food when I got really depressed. It was all shit and I usually burned something but it kept me from..." he trailed off, fingering the scars on his wrists. "I don't anymore because food's not cheap and my roommates would probably kill me if I set off the fire alarm."

"What do you do instead?" Jared asked, prodding at the eggs with his fork.

"I sound proofed my room so sometimes I just go in there and scream my head off. Or I talk to Evan. Or I bother you."

Jared looked up at him, meeting Connor's self-conscious gaze. "I kind of don't hate you Kleinman."

"Thanks. I don't hate you either." This felt like something. He didn't know what that something was but it seemed important. "And you aren't bothering me," he blurted before the moment was gone. "I don't make friends very easily and it's nice to have...God, I sound like Ev. I'm not trying to make a big deal out of it or anything. It's just nice not to be alone."

"Yeah," he said. "You don't have to eat the eggs just because we're bonding or whatever."

"Oh thank God." *** The more he saw them hang out together the more he thought he should stop being a coward and just ask. Ideally it would be a light, no pressure kind of inquiry, but every time he pictured himself doing it went more like "HI JARED HI CONNOR I LIKE BOTH OF YOU CAN WE ALL GO OUT TOGETHER?" Shouted incomprehensibly in the kitchen or living room or God forbid out in public.

He was having trouble sleeping again. When he wasn't worried about his sexuality he was worried about school. Finals were fast approaching and several of his professors had opted for group projects instead of exams. His groups tended to push all of the work on to him when they realized he was a good student and too quiet to protest. Evan was better at talking to people now but he was still nervous about confrontation. He was getting kind of weighted down and stuck between a rock and a hard place because he didn't want to upset his group members and he also didn't want to have a breakdown. He was walking home from the library and thinking about how much work he had to do and how lonely and weak he felt. It was getting cold. It might even snow tomorrow and his feet were freezing in his worn out boots. Maybe if he started crying his tears would freeze on his face.

"Jared?" When he opened the door he was wrapped up in warmth and the scent of tomato sauce and he could hear crackling from the kitchen. "I'm home. What are you doing...oh."

Jared and Connor were grinning and laughing at each other, both had aprons on and Connor had flour in his hair. "Hansen! You're home," Connor exclaimed when he noticed Evan standing there.

"You're here," Evan replied.

"Evan we're making homemade pasta," Jared explained as Evan stood numbly in the doorway. "We thought you could use a nice dinner but this idiot didn't bring a pasta maker and so it looks kinda fucked up but I think it'll cook alright."

"Are you okay?" Connor asked when Evan remained speechless. His happy expression from a moment earlier faded a bit and Evan felt guilty. He ruined everything didn't he? He was just a big, broken third wheel.

"I'm fine," he said, but his voice cracked pitifully.

"Oh Ev, what's wrong?" Jared put down the spatula he was holding and then Evan started sobbing. He'd tried to hold it in all day but now, seeing two of his favorite people doing something nice for him on a day that wanted to kick him when he was down, was more than he could handle.

Then Jared's arms were around him and he was shaking like a leaf and stuttering out apologies like he was in high school. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry this is so nice I ruin everything and I'm awful so..."

"You're not awful," Connor said. Jared pulled back and rubbed Evan's shoulders while he tried to calm his breathing."What happened Hansen?"

"Nothing," he choked. He suddenly felt hot and panicky. "It's nothing you guys I'm just a l-little overwhelmed s-sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Connor said.

"Hey," Jared said. He cupped Evan's face in his hands. "You know you can tell me anything too."

"I-I um..." he trailed off, blushing furiously, eyes still blurry from the tears. Connor cleared his throat and Jared quickly took his hands off Evan's face.

"Let's have pasta," Jared said and then backed up (into Connor accidentally which was awkward for a second and involved Connor's hands fumbling on Jared's arms.)

The rest of the night was better than breaking down in his kitchen. The pasta noodles were misshapen but surprisingly excellent. After they ate Jared put on The Office and the three of them curled up on the couch with Evan in the middle. Jared had the dorkiest laugh and Connor leaned his head on his shoulder in a way that grounded him. He liked them so much.

"Call me if you want to talk," Connor said when he walked him out. "I'm always here."

"What did I do to deserve you?"

Connor laughed. "I'm a mess and we both know it."

"I think you're great."

"You know you don't ruin anything right?"

Evan shrugged. It was cold and he hadn't bothered to put his coat back on. Connor was wearing the scarf he'd knitted him and his face was pink from the cold.

"You don't Hansen. You're my best friend."

"You're my best friend too."

Connor smiled. "See you Hansen. Tell Kleinman I said bye."

"Yeah...okay."

Evan went back inside and helped Jared clean up the dishes. "You guys seem c-close now."

"Yeah," he replied. "Murphy's not a total asshole."

"I liked the pasta."

"Well don't get used to it nerd." He wiped his hands on a dish towel. "Goodnight Ev."

"Night." He'd wanted to say more. He'd wanted to ask him, in a jealous and insecure way, if he liked Connor more than he was letting on.

Who was he kidding? Including him would be too much work. If they liked each other he'd be happy for them. He repeated this in his head so he wouldn't forget it.

Happy for them. Happy for them. Happy for them.

He didn't have time to worry about this. He had class and projects and strangers to date so his head didn't explode. If there was one thing Evan Hansen was good at it was evasion. *** Jared liked it when it snowed. He liked the way it blanketed the trees and turned to slush by the roadside. He liked walking in it with a cup of coffee in hand. Everything seemed stiller on nights when it snowed. It was like the night was holding its breath. Everything felt fresh and expectant and important.

He didn't expect to see Connor Murphy on his porch swing when he got home. It was late. He'd been doing some studying of his own away from the distractions of the house (which often included Connor Murphy.)

"What are you doing here? You must be fucking freezing."

Connor looked up from his hunched position. He had snow in his hair and eyelashes. He'd been crying or smoking it was hard to tell. "I was going to surprise him. But uh...after an hour I texted him to try to figure out where he was and..."

"Evan's on another date. He's got an endless supply of phone numbers apparently."

Connor laughed bitterly and tossed the bag of jolly ranchers he had in Jared's direction. "I got him his favorite," he croaked. "What the fuck am I still doing here Kleinman? Do you know?"

"Come inside. We can..."

"I don't want to come inside." He bared his teeth and spoke in a low growl.

Jared took off his scarf and wrapped it around Connor's bare neck. "Fine then. I'll stay out here with you until you do. He sat down. Connor was shaking. His hair covered his face and Jared could tell he was trying to hide his tears the same way Jared had that night at the party.

"I keep trying to tell myself that he's not worth all this. That I don't know...that he's a bad person or whatever but he's not. He's not seeing other people to hurt me or some shit. He just doesn't like me. He just...I just don't deserve someone like him." His voice sounded so broken that for a moment Jared hated Evan. He hated him even though Connor was right and he wasn't doing anything wrong.

"You do deserve someone like Evan."

"You don't have to lie to me Kleinman I'm not a fucking kid."

"You do!" He repeated and it was too loud and echoed in the icy streets, sound tangling with the amber glow from the street lamps. Connor looked up. Jared had realized they had the same weird eyes years ago but he didn't think he'd ever really looked at them. He didn't think he'd looked at the freckles on Connor's nose before either, or the mystery bruise on his right cheekbone he claimed he woke up with and didn't remember how he'd acquired. There was snot on his face and his eyes were red.

Jared had learned that Connor Murphy's default tended to be anger. He yelled. And his tears were more often angry than sad.

Connor drew in a long breath. The anger faded from his face into something more tired and vulnerable. "Why doesn't he like me?" He said.

Maybe they were more alike than he realized. Maybe Connor could understand him the way he understood Evan.

Jared leaned in fractionally, involuntarily and then stopped, rational part of his brain urging him to pause. You don't just do things. You think, you plan, you engineer your image so people can't see all the ways you fall short. For once the irrational and reckless and unconscious won. He leaned in the rest of the way and kissed him. He kissed Connor Murphy and he tasted like smoke and salt and felt impossibly warm.

What are you doing?

He drew back, apologies on his lips. "I shouldn't have done that. You're obviously in a bad place and it's fucked up to take advantage of..."

Connor cut him off by kissing him back, long and drawn out and hot and mutual and hungry in a way he didn't expect. Because it was just him. It wasn't someone kind and sweet like Evan or hot and edgy like Connor it was just him: not that nice or attractive or confident. It was just him and yet Connor's hands were on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. They broke apart for air.

A loud smacking sound pulled their eyes off of each other. Connor reacted first.

"Fuck! Hansen are you okay?" Evan was lying on his back in the driveway, facing away from them as if he'd been in the process of turning around to go back the way he'd come when he slipped.

Connor reacted first but Jared was the first to stand up. He could feel his heart in his throat. Beside him Connor was breathless, his lips very red even in the dark. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. He hated the snow. Shit like this only happened when it snowed.

He ran off the porch and into the driveway, more careful with his steps now. Evan still hadn't said anything. He was covering his face with his hands.

"Ev you're going to have to say something because you're scaring the shit out of me."

It was quiet in his head despite the fact that Connor was yelling something from the yard and a car was driving by. It was quiet and then Evan spoke and it wasn't anymore.

He uncovered his face and looked up at him with a horrified and supremely embarrassed expression. "I'm really sorry."

#sincerely three #dear evan hansen #deh #deh fic #jared kleinman/evan hansen #kleinsen #treebros #jared kleinman #connor murphy #evan hansen #awi's fic

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