For a moment there, Conrad had to think back on his conversation with Wesley, the night that they'd decided to take things a step further than just simple friendship. Conrad remembered being jealous. And bitter. He remembered his decision to henceforth dislike Ciri and anyone else who became entangled with Wesley. Even Fox, who had known Wes long before his time at the Crown Plaza, which was a touch unfair.
..of course, after the fact, Wesley had taken him upstairs and kissed it all better.
Since then, Conrad had gone back and forth on his feelings on the matter. One minute, he wanted to wash his hands of the whole thing. Because the deeper he became attached to Wesley, the messier this whole affair would become.
But the next, Wesley would look at him like that and Conrad's issues seemed to magically disappear. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered, so long as Wesley Gibson kept looking at him like that.
And then Wesley started singing and Conrad thought for sure he was going to melt to the floor. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry or some pathetic mixture of both. Instead, he returned that squeeze to his hand and sang along with him. Wesley was doing a terrible job of making Conrad not fall in love with him.
That's when Conrad caved completely. He brought Wesley's hand to his mouth, kissing along the back of his knuckles. "Wes," he whispered, his mouth slowly making it's way down his wrist, to the soft side of his forearm, "Can we get these skates off and take this upstairs?"