I no longer care. I ship it, and there was no content for them.
Who ships an AI that just wants the best for the one she loves and a sweet robot boy? I do. I ship them, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I think it’s cute.
On a side note, it could look better, but it was fun to do.
ALSO: If you make any content for these two, please tag me. I’m content starved.
I wanted to write a thing. So, I did! It’s monnor because I am trash. It’s not been read through because I’m tired, sorry! @percyandtheargonauts
Words:1448
-Mod Nork
Connor was just walking up the stairs to his apartment. It was really late- about three am, and didn’t expect to see anyone on the way up. It had been his brother’s birthday, and of course Connor had to act as the driver, and that meant drinking soft drinks while his friends got incredibly drunk.
The lift was out of order (again, he sighed). He trudged up the creaking stairs, humming a slow song. As he turned the corner, about to step onto the floor below his, he heard a muffled curse. He stepped onto the landing, and looked to the left. Sure enough, there stood a guy. He looked about Connor’s age, and a hell of a lot drunker than Connor was. The guy looked at Connor, eyes widening.
‘Oh my gods! You’re the cute guy that lives above me!’ the guy exclaimed, his words excited and slurred. The guy began moving towards Connor and he sighed in exasperation.
‘Hey, dude. We should get you to bed, okay? You’re gonna have a pounding headache tomorrow, aren’t ya?’ Connor asked the drunken boy. ‘My name’s Connor. Why-‘
The boy cut him off. ‘Connor… That’s a cool name. My name’s Mitchellll,’ the guy let the ‘l’ sound roll on for a while. He moved close to Connor and began to poke his cheek. Letting him do it, Connor decided, was better than having a possible drunken outburst on his hands.
‘Okay, Mitchell, let’s get you inside. Give me your keys for a sec,’ Connor said, before looking down the corridor. There were only a few doors, and he could remember which one Mitchell had been standing outside.
‘Don’t got them, cutie Connor. Your cheeks… squishiest ever. Not even Drew’s boys have cheeks as pokeable,’ Mitchell mumbled, and Connor smiled at him exhaustedly. He reached up and pulled Mitchell’s hand away from his face and pulled him gently toward the stairs, sighing. Mitchell seemed okay with the new turn of events and followed Connor as readily as a tired drunk could.
‘You’ll have to crash at my place tonight, alright? We’ll figure something out when you’re not as… inebriated,’ the sober boy said, while the drunken one just giggled at nothing in particular. Connor sighed again- that was all he seemed to be doing, he should be used to dealing with affectionate drunks by now. Travis was one of the soppiest drunks he knew.
Connor just nodded as Mitchell devolved into mumbling nonsense. They reached the next floor. Mitchell didn’t seem to have any plan on letting go of Connor’s hand anytime soon, so Connor had to awkwardly pull his keys from the opposite pocket. Eventually, he succeeded and put the key in the lock. Of course, it had to act up. Connor swore under his breath as he jiggled the key and the lock finally clicked and the door began to swing open. He retrieved his keys from the door and gently led the still-murmuring Mitchell into the first room and flicked on the light switch.
Connor’s apartment was rather mundane- the walls were painted a light grey, a neutral tone which he hadn’t bothered to change since he moved. A black sofa sat opposite the small TV and Wifi router. Behind the sofa, there was a desk the same length as the loveseat, with a regular computer sat on top. It was pushed against the wall, because directly behind the sofa was a flimsy table with two uncomfortable chairs (Connor only used it when he had company; when nobody else was around, he just ate on the sofa).
To his left was the small kitchen-thing. It consisted of two counters, a couple of cupboards, a rickety fridge and an unreliable oven. Luckily, he did own a good coffee maker and microwave- he mostly lived on the things cooked in the microwave and the strongest coffee he could brew. Straight ahead was his bathroom; the less said about that, the better. It was a horrible lime green that Connor couldn’t afford to change just yet.
On the right was the only door that really mattered, his bedroom. It had a lovely double bed in it. The walls were painted a dark red. He had actually taken care with that room.
His drunken guest let go of Connor’s hand, and he had to spend a few moments regaining the feeling in it. Shutting the door with as little sound as possible, he turned around to find his bedroom door ajar and no Mitchell. He m oved towards the bedroom, only to find Mitchell hadn’t even made it to the bed and was slumped on the floor. Connor hit the light switch and the lights came on, and Mitchell just snored. The boy rolled his eyes and sorted out his bed. Pulling all the covers to one side, he walked back to the sleeping boy and lifted him, grunting with the effort. Mitchell stayed blissfully asleep and mumbled something unintelligible but Connor just ignored him, focusing on getting him in the bed.
It was only after Connor had laid the sheets over the sleeping boy that he realised that he’d have to spend the night on the sofa. He smiled softly, shooting a look at the sleeping boy before grabbing a spare blanket from the wardrobe. He left the room, shutting off the lights and closing the door quietly.
Once outside the room, Connor looked at the sofa and grimaced slightly. ‘Damn those stupid drunken cute boys,’ he mumbled, before turning off the lights. He had to fumble for a few minutes in the darkness to get underneath the blanket and in a comfortable enough position to sleep. ‘Why’d I let him have my nice bed…He’d have slept just as nicely here,’ he muttered, before letting out one final sigh. Deciding that drunk strangers were just difficult to deal with, he shut his eyes and fell asleep.
Connor woke up to the sounds of shuffling and one of the doors creaking. He turned and sat up, facing the bedroom door just as Mitchell walked through it. He obviously caught the other boy off guard, and startled him enough for Mitchell to let out a little shriek.
‘Hey, mornin’! How was your night, Sleeping Beauty?’ Connor asked, grinning. He ran a hand through his hair and got off the sofa.
‘Who are you? I know you’re the guy who lives above me, but…Why am I here?’ Mitchel asked, having moved from the door slightly. He rubbed his eyes.
‘Man, you don’t remember anything? You really musta been hammered. I’m Connor,’ he introduced himself again. ‘You locked yourself out of your apartment, and I thought it was probably better you slept here rather than get kicked out for the night because you’re sleeping in the corridor. Want some coffee?’
‘Oh wow, I could so go for some coffee, thanks. I don’t even remember what happened last night,’ Mitchell said, taking a seat at the table. He shifted in his chair, Connor could hear it creaking. He just let his hands take over the regular ritual of morning coffee, and got Mitchell up to speed on what had happened that he himself had seen.
‘…so I pulled you up here and you passed out in my bed. I took the sofa, and here we are, about to drink some coffee,’ Connor finished, pulling a pair of mugs from a cupboard. He filled them with a practiced ease, and brought them over to the table, and took the seat opposite Mitchell. ‘You know how you’re gonna get back into your apartment?’
‘I’ll have to call Drew, I think. Get her to drop over her spare key and she’ll lecture me for an hour and leave. Fun,’ Mitchell groaned, sipping his coffee. ‘Woah, dude, this shit’s strong.’
‘Gotta have it like that- no point in a weak coffee,’ Connor shrugged, drinking some of his own. ‘I guess I’m just used to it after drinking it for the past six months.’
‘You mind if I hang around here for a little while before I ring up Drew?’
‘Where else would you go, Mitch? Not your own apartment because you locked yourself out, numbskull,’ Connor replied, taking another swig of his coffee. ‘And hey, if you stick around, maybe she’ll feel too awkward to lecture you?’ Connor winked, and Mitchell smiled into his coffee.
‘You know what? I like the way you think.’
Connor hoped his slight undercurrent of flirting was working. He certainly didn’t miss the little blush Mitchell hid behind his mug. He grinned mischievously.
It wasn’t a mistake when Mitchell returned to his apartment with his half-sister’s key and Connor’s number in his back pocket.
