Frustration -SERIES- [Part 1] [boyxboy]

Chapter Sixteen

I took an involuntary step towards the stage, my eyes wide, and I heard Sally gasp and mutter, 'Oh, god,' in a panic behind me. She sounded like I felt: like everything was crumbling and falling apart.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Daniel and Philip glancing at each other uncertainly but I could only focus on Conor. He was staring at me, his mouth open slightly and his dark eyes a fraction bigger than they usually were.

'I'm so sorry,' I mouthed silently, but I knew he could read my lips – I was standing at the edge of the stage now, just out of sight of everybody in the club. Not that they weren't trying to get a good look; I could make out a handful of people craning their necks to try and see around the black curtains. One of Conor's hands was still on the microphone he'd been placing onto the mic stand, the other falling limply at this side. Then I saw it ball up into a tight fist and I knew what I had to do to make up for this.

I took another step onto the stage, and was vaguely aware of an outbreak of whispering as I came into view of the general crowd. I knew Josh and Rachel would be battling their way forward to try and get to me but I didn't even look for them; my gaze was fixed firmly on Conor, sending him mental messages that it was okay, that I knew he had to do it. Punch me. Do it. Punch me.

Conor's expression changed as he frowned and I realised he was confused - obviously, he couldn't read minds. The fact that I was clearly bracing myself was confusing him and I bit the inside of my lip before mouthing, 'Hit me,' and barely moving my lips.

I was still looking directly into his eyes, my heart rate increasing rapidly with every passing second. I had just told Conor I loved him for the first time, by accident, a good five hundred people had overheard it, and I wasn't going to hear it back. I was gonna be knocked out instead.

His eyes cleared and sparked as he finally caught my meaning and he dropped his other hand from the microphone, taking a shaky step forwards. He hesitated, then walked the rest of the way over to me quickly and grabbed my face between his hands, pressing his lips to mine.

Shocked, my brain went into meltdown and I couldn't think, but my body reacted by itself, like it always did when Conor was involved. I grabbed him by the hips and pulled him towards me so our bodies crashed together, leaning forwards slightly so his back was bent. Our lips moved in sync as I felt myself heating up all over and my heart start to expand in my chest. Conor's hands wound into my hair and curled into tight fists as his kissed me hungrily; it was one of those situations where you love the other person so much that you kind of want to be them. A little part of me wanted to be Conor.

Conor pulled his lips away from mine, our foreheads almost touching but our eyes still closed. We were both breathing heavily, still wrapped up in each other's arms.

'I love you too,' he whispered, and I felt my heart expand again. 'I love you.'

A rushing, roaring sound filled my ears as I was tackled from behind, and I realised the crowd in the club had started shouting and cheering. Our intimate moment was brought to an end by the fact that Josh, Rachel, Sally, Daniel, Philip, and Tarquin were taking it in turns to throw themselves on top of us, so we became a sixteen-armed monster, tripping and laughing around the stage. Slowly people began to disentangle themselves and I took a step back from Conor, smiling broadly. He grinned back at me a little shyly.

'So, um...' I started, not knowing what to say.

'Um, yeah...' he replied, then stopped, so we were both just standing there grinning like idiots.

'I hate to break up this touching moment,' Tarquin lied, wrapping an arm around each of our necks suddenly and turning so we were facing the crowd, who were still gawking at us but at least were now talking and chatting amongst themselves, 'but we kind of have a show to put on.'