Early May

"Thanks for humoring me tonight. Even if it didn't really go as planned."

Jake parked in the middle of Connor's driveway—directly behind his little red car that despite the argument that his mom would get to it, apparently never got fixed.

"Hey, it's okay. We still made the best of it."

"I guess we did." Jake nodded. "You can finally stop bugging me about singing you Taylor Swift now."

"You know what? I don't think I will." Connor smiled and nothing in the world had ever seemed brighter. "I thoroughly enjoyed it."

"Uh-huh, I bet you did."

Jake hadn't meant to stare, but it happened again and this time he gave into it—plastering on a smile as he watched Connor watch the rain. The drops fell down in front of the headlights that shone past Connor's car into the distant backyard where they once walked the tracks while Connor took a chance on him. Connor seemed to be lost in thought as his gaze settled on them. Jake wondered exactly what went through Connor's mind when he thought back to that day. Did he regret it? Did he love it? Did it make any difference whatsoever? Was that the day Connor chose to trust him or had he decided before that?

What did it even mean to have Connor's trust?

What would it take to break it?

Jake thought he had seen a sliver of the answer to the last question before, but hoped he wouldn't find out how far it took to shatter the rest.

"I am kinda confused though..." Connor ended up mumbling as he looked out.

"About what?"

"You said you were taking a chance tonight... you really that scared of drive-in movies?" He turned his head back to Jake.

"You know, they really are such an interesting concept..."

"Really?"

"Nah. I mean..." Jake scrambled to find something to say because he hadn't figured out how to say the truth. "I just wanted to do something fun. I don't really do that a lot, so I guess I just wanted to try something new."

However much Jake had pulled it out of his ass, the answer seemed to satisfy Connor's curiosity.

"Well, can't say you got to... but you did throw your first parking lot party."

"Yeah, thanks for being my only attendee."

"Oh, absolutely... not like I had a choice though. The host was my ride." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Wow, you wouldn't have come otherwise? I'm offended." Jake turned away, pretending to ignore him, but hoping he would give him a reason to turn back around as quickly as possible.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world, Jake Holmes."

Connor leaned his head back against the seat with a tired smile that Jake wasn't accustomed to seeing on Connor. It was so raw and honest—completely unfiltered, and so incredibly captivating that Jake forgot to look away. The sprinkle on the windshield casted shadowed drops across Connor's features from the faintest light that stayed on at the front door. Jake watched as one of the imagined raindrops fell down Connor's cheek, and any will Jake might have had to fake their argument some more was dwindled down with it.

The low volume of the radio playing an advertisement mixed with the gentle rumble of the engine created a silence between them that wasn't really silent. They looked to each other for something to say, and for a moment, Jake was okay with the fact that he came up with nothing. He was okay with just staring into his eyes—a color lost in the darkness of the night that had consumed them on the rain-filled drive home. Jake searched them for some sense of direction, but everything was unclear—including why he couldn't shake the feeling that if this were meant to be a date, and this was meant to be their goodbye, that this would be the right time to kiss him. But why would he think he could do that? Connor never implied that he could. But maybe Jake never knew how to ask.

Connor's tired eyes closed as he took a deep breath.

"Well, if anything else fun to do ever creeps into your mind, you know where to find me."

"Maybe next time we'll go skydiving. Who knows?"

Jake thought his joke might have bought him more time, but Connor's hand was already on the door handle.

"'Night Jake. I'll see you on... Monday?"

"Uh, yeah. Monday. After work, right?"

"If you want, yeah."

"Yeah. Okay, Monday." Jake nodded, but his stomach sank as he realized how close Connor was from getting out.

Why is it that I never find the things to say until you're walking away?

Was it the urgency? The fear of too many things being left unspoken? A deep-seeded need to be understood? It bestowed in him a feeling of cowardice that he couldn't shake no matter how hard he tried. He spent too much time calculating risks and not enough time acting on the ones that required immediate attention.

Connor was a moment away from pulling the door open when Jake rushed out to grab ahold of his arm—the sleeve of his football sweatshirt bunching up under his grasp. There was a low state of alarm that braced Connor's face as he turned back to Jake, but it was masked first and foremost with a concern Jake wanted to resolve as soon as possible.

"I lied." He muttered.

He expected Connor to squint his eyes in that interrogative way he did when he didn't know what to make of something. Instead he swallowed it down and watched Jake carefully, dropping his hand from the door as he shifted his intentions.

"About what?"

Jake searched his eyes, hoping that maybe if he looked at him in just the right way, he wouldn't have to say it out loud. But he needed to say it out loud. There would be no obvious answer to his turmoil until he did. He needed to get over it. Jake swallowed thickly, his heart beating out of his chest, the heat coming to his face quicker than he could even say the words.

"The movie."

His eyes darted away from Connor. He didn't want to see how Connor contemplated what to feel, or whether he could trust him to be honest, or what expression he made when he finally figured it out. Jake had to consciously pry his hand away from the sweatshirt, making sure that Connor had the option to leave once he realized he was done with Jake's shit. He rested it instead on the seat in the space between them and ran his thumb over a crack in the leather seat to calm his nerves.

"I... it... it wasn't about going to the movie..." He fumbled. "It was about going with you. Because..."

He still couldn't look back up at him because fear was real, and fear meant Connor's rejection.

Fuck, Connor. Tell me you understand.

"I'm not good with saying things... I'm sure you know that. I always get in my head and... well I never really say what I want to say, but I just–"

"I get it." Connor whispered the answer to all of Jake's problems.

It felt like flying. It felt safe. It felt like everything was out in the open when nothing was said at all. But Jake couldn't think about that. He couldn't enjoy that feeling because it had been replaced by something else when Connor's hand had fallen on top of his, fingers lingering like a ghost for a moment in case Jake wanted to pull away before they settled over the top of his hand like he knew exactly where it belonged. He hadn't expected Connor to read him so easily. But then again, he had always seen right through him—better than anyone else.

"Do you?" Jake swallowed, staring down at Connor's lips to read his words so he didn't have to meet his eyes.

There was a momentary silence before the word left Connor's mouth as gently as he could manage it.

"Yes."

He always treated Jake with such fragility that he might have thought Connor was incapable of being anything but. Jake knew he was head-strong, and persistent, and naturally defiant, but on days like this—in moments like this—his palm was so warm against the top of Jake's hand that it felt like being consumed in the sun. Beneath that cold exterior, Connor Morgan was patient and caring and maybe—just maybe—had more feeling than anyone ever gave him credit for. Jake was grateful he had the opportunity to experience any of it.

Everything stilled as Jake tried desperately to let his head catch up with his heart, but Connor was still holding on to his hand and he was so shocked he couldn't even manage to look him in the eye. The only thing Jake could manage was to brush his thumb up to whatever part of Connor's hand he could manage, awaiting the sweet release that came when Connor gently squeezed his hand back in confirmation that he had felt it.

If Jake's heart beating in his ears wasn't enough to remind himself he was alive, he might have felt like he made it to heaven. This was nothing—it was a stepping stone, a piece to a puzzle—but it was enough. If Jake died on the way home, he would fade away thinking of Connor's hand on his own and he would have been at peace with it. It would have been enough. If Connor gave him nothing more, Jake would be happy with what he got.

Somehow under a haze of disbelief Jake found it in himself to look back up to Connor for the first time. When they had become this close, Jake didn't know. He couldn't tell left from right or up from down. All he knew was Connor was in front of him looking at him like he held the world and Jake didn't know how to give it to him. He met his eyes for a moment, only for them to dart back down to his lips. Connor was so close to him it sent a shiver down his spine as the flux from summer heat-wave graduation practice to cold rain in a parking lot became something warm again. Jake's brain couldn't catch up. He was absolutely paralyzed.

This is a dream.

Connor whispered—a gentle hush that Jake could almost feel on his own lips. "Can I?"

He didn't dare to move until Jake answered him, staying back just enough to make sure this was what Jake wanted. Jake knew Connor wouldn't think about doing something without permission. Permission was valuable because it enabled trust, and there was nothing in the world that meant more to Connor than that. He wouldn't move until Jake told him to. If Jake could've handled the feeling that restraint would have entailed, he might have stayed still enough to see how long it could last.

But he couldn't. It was all he could do to find the word to whisper out from under his euphoric paralysis.

"Yeah."

Please.

Connor let go of his hand, but Jake didn't care because he was slipping his own behind Connor's neck, pulling him in as Connor's lips slowly met his for the first time. It didn't really hit him until it took his breath away.

This is real.

He desperately clung on to Connor, pulling him in closer and closer, because for once he was sure of something and it was this. There was no second guessing. This was it. It was here, it was tangible, it was something so clear, because Connor was so gentle and calm and Jake was seconds away from passing out in a fever dream. Kissing a girl had never been this loud. Every alarm in his head was going off at the same time—shouting at him that he finally listened, he finally got it right.

This is right.

It was so right that it felt so wrong when he pulled back, taking a moment to catch himself before he stopped breathing. He could feel the place where Connor's lips were seconds before with a new chill that sent him craving that warmth even more. It came with every breath he dared to breathe and stayed until the only thing left was the ghost of a feeling Connor left behind.

Fuck, do it again.

His heart was racing, his head was spinning, and his ears were filled with the small laugh that had escaped Connor's mouth. He held Connor's face in his hand, tracing his thumb down his jawline as he couldn't help but smile at the sound of it.

"What?" Jake whispered.

Connor's head bowed down in laughter, but Jake's hands followed down with him. He could feel the lines of a smile on Connor's cheeks, but he couldn't see it from how he had hidden his face from him.

"What?!" He grinned. "Connor?"

"Oh my God..." Connor tried to regain himself.

"What?"

Jake let go of him to let him recover.

"No, nothing... it's just..."

But he broke into laughter again. His head rolled back to expose his neck with an open mouthed-smile that Jake wanted to kiss right off of his face.

"Whew, nothing."

You little shit.

"What the hell? Now you have to tell me!" Jake shifted his shoulder over on his seat dramatically so he could look at him.

Connor shook his head in an attempt to regain his seriousness.

"Sorry. It's just..." He nodded to fight a smile off. "That's the first time I've like... really kissed somebody. My brain just kind of short-circuited for a minute."

Jake broke into a ridiculous smile he couldn't stop. "First?!"

"Are you going to make fun of me now?!"

"No, it's just..." Jake swallowed down the laugh that tried to escape. "It wasn't that bad."

"Wasn't that bad?!" Connor buried his face into his hands to where his words became a mumble. "Okay, it's time for me to die now."

"Stop it!"

Jake reached out to shove his shoulder, but Connor playfully swatted him away.

"Nope. Sorry. You're never going to hear from me again. Bye, Jake Holmes. It was nice knowing you."

Jake couldn't stop laughing while Connor—in all pretend seriousness—opened the door as quickly as possible. Jake let him go, but called out across the seat to him as he stood with the door open in the rain.

"Okay, see you Monday."

Connor tilted his head over unimpressed, but Jake could see the way the muscles around his lips twitched with a smile he was trying to contain.

"See you Monday."

He slammed the door shut for theatrical effect, and Jake was left watching him go up to his doorstep in the rain—turning back every so often so Jake could see the smile on his face. Watching him open the door left the butterflies in Jake's stomach planning their escape, but Jake embraced the all too familiar anxiety as a relief instead of a burden. He could have lived in the feeling forever if it hadn't been immediately replaced by the sinking feeling that he wouldn't see Connor for another forty-eight hours.

Forty-eight hours.

The countdown starts now.