"We fell in love, so how can we convince our parents that an arranged marriage between us would be a politically good idea?" au
Connor has this all figured out. He’s sure he does. It’s just a little hard to think right now with Oliver’s tongue in his mouth and his hands on his ass. But he’s sure, somewhere, some part of him has this all worked out.
Yet when Oliver abruptly pulls away, hangs his head, and mumbles, “We can’t keep doing this,” Connor can’t think of one single reassurance other than a very eloquent, “Huh?”
Oliver huffs out a breath, but any amusement on his face quickly falls. “I’m going to miss your kissing face.” He looks down. “And all of your faces.”
Oliver’s sadness kicks Connor’s brain awake.
"I’m not going anywhere, Oliver."