His old boss had called him lazy. Wesley preferred a different adjective; apathetic. He knew the meaning of hard work. When he wanted something, he went and got it. The first bed he'd bought, though not nearly as plush as the ones here in the hotel, he'd saved for at least a few months and then put the whole thing together completely on his own. It was a small thing to be proud of, sure. The point was that he wasn't lazy. He was just picky about where he put his energy.
Like going out of his way to practice a few tricks that had definitely ended up with him getting a few bruises on his knees. Or remembering all the words to an old song because he knew the band who sang it was a favorite of Conrad's. Granted, he was no Paul McCartney but he sang the best he could. When Conrad joined in, he almost stopped. His brain skipped as it tried to single out just the sound of Conrad's voice. He remembered his friend could sing but wow, he'd forgotten how well. Or maybe he was just falling in love with the sound of his voice. Very likely both.
"Jesus, you're gonna make me fall," he gasped as his brain decided at the last possible second to remember to stay upright and not trip over his own goddamn feet just because someone was pulling a Gomez Adams on him. Wes had to turn and grab the front of Conrad's shirt for balance. Alright, he could see how Morticia had gone weak in the knees for this. His had nearly gone out from under him and Conrad had just kissed his arm.
It wasn't hard to imagine how quickly he'd turn to Jell-O when that mouth ended up in other places. And now Conrad was talking about going upstairs? He knew what he was asking, right? Or maybe Wes was getting ahead of himself. Conrad could just be wanting to end up in bed, make out and play with his hair like they usually did. Wes bit his bottom lip. "We just got them on and now you want to take them off?" He gave Conrad's shirt a playful tug, smirking. "Did I already tire you out?"