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Will maybe a stubborn asshole (not his words) but as soon as he realizes the shit Connor has been through with his mom, he feels terrible about what he’d said earlier. And while he grew up in the dregs of Chicago, he still has the manners to apologize.
Except he doesn’t see Connor until after the announcement from his father and Will’s been around the guy long enough to know that it couldn’t have gone well. And when they finally get to Molly’s late that night, Connor’s at the far end of the room, talking to Dr. Zanetti and Will is down at the other end with Reese and Dr. Charles. It’s really late and they can all tell that Hermann, especially after his injury, just isn’t up to running the bar much past when they arrive. He kicks them out just after midnight and Will, only a tiny bit drunk, touches Connor’s shoulder as he walks by. Connor turns and Zanetti fixes him with a glare.
“Uh, I have to talk to you about something,” Will says loudly, “Want to come back to my place for a drink?”
Connor doesn’t even glance at Zanetti, just nods and follows Will out to his car. The drive is quiet, Connor fiddles with the radio like he doesn’t even care that it’s not his car.
“So your father-“
“No.”
Will nods with a sigh and keeps his eyes on the road.
When they get to his place, Connor kicks off his shoes at the door and leaves his jacket on the hook. He’s still wearing his suit from his dad’s speech, which cannot be comfortable. Connor loosens his tie and his top button and tries not to slump; he’s exhausted. Will really needs to stop the words that are about to come out of his mouth. It doesn’t work.
“Do you want to borrow some clothes or something?” He tries to make it seem like he’s just being a good friend and not like he wants to see Connor dressed in one of his med school hoodies.
“Nah, man. I’m fine.” He takes off his tie, loosens the next button and cross his arms.
Will thinks he looks down right sexy.
“So, that drink?” Connor prompts and Will starts out of his praising reverie and heads into the kitchen.
“Scotch?” He asks, hearing Connor follow him.
“Whatever works.”
Will takes out two glasses and the scotch Jay got him for his last birthday. He was saving it for a special occasion. This is as good as anything, he supposes. The liquid splashes a bit into Connor’s glass; Will’s hands are unusually shaky.
“Glad you’re not my doctor.” Connor chirps but it falls a bit short. Will can tell he’s not on the top of his insult game right now.
He hands Connor the glass, trying to ignore the feeling of Connor’s fingers against his.
They sit at the bar in the kitchen, and Will takes a sip of the Scotch, lets it burn down his throat.
“Alright, what is it you have to tell me?” Connor asks cutting to the chase.
“I just wanted to say-“ Will takes another sip of scotch. It burns less than what he has to say. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for questioning you this morning in Trauma 2. You’re a great doctor, you know what you’re doing.”
Connor smirks, “Thanks, Will. But you could have said that at the bar.”
Damn, Will was hoping he could have left it at that.
“I’m just not used to not being in charge is all,” He’s opening up too much now, getting too close to his feelings. Not smart around someone like Connor.
“I get it, man.”
“And, well you couldn’t know this but I’ve been saying some things about your background and your father-“
“You’re not the only one who’s ever said shit about me Will.”
“And I’m sorry about your mother. I didn’t know.”
“Yeah well there’s a lot you don’t know.” Connor sits back hard against the chair.
“Only because you don’t tell any one.”
Connor practically gulps down the scotch in his glass. Will looks at him and sighs.
“You don’t have to play the role of strong, fearless doctor. We’ve got Ethan for that.”
“I don’t know if I trust any of you enough for you to know. My sister doesn’t even know.”
Shit, too far, Connor thinks.
“Does Zanetti know? You guys seem pretty close.”
Connor laughs loudly, “She’s a bitch.”
“Agreed,” Will holds up his glass to toast him.
“You and Dr. Manning are pretty close though.” Connor muses, sipping his scotch.
“Good friends, that’s all.” Will says quickly and looks away.
“She likes you.”
“Well I don’t swing that way.”
Shit, too far, Will thinks.
“Agreed.” Connor holds up his glass to toast him.
They finish their scotch, talking idly about work and then Will calls Connor a cab and he goes home.
Will thought that was it. Confess your sexuality to each other and then go on with your lives. He’s just glad he made it out of that conversation without confessing that he likes Connor, a feat that might not be so out of reach considering Connor also told him he likes guys. He’s really not expecting a very drunk Connor to show up on his doorstep the next night.
Will has a few very rare hours off in actual daylight, so he makes good use of it, cleans up outside a bit and barbeques dinner for the first time in years. He’s catching up on an episode of Modern Family, but he’s only half watching. He’d spent all night wondering about the story behind Connor’s mom’s death so he’d decided to look it up. It’s only a little awkward to be researching your crushes dead mother when he shows up outside your door.
The knock jars Will out of his most recent article. His brother might be the detective but from what he’s learned about Connor’s mom, it doesn’t seem like a regular depression caused suicide. Fuck, poor Connor.
He opens the door. Connor is dressed in his scrubs from the hospital, which means he couldn’t have been in his right mind when he left. There’s no car outside which means Connor didn’t drive himself here, thank god.
“Do you have any more of that scotch?” Connor asks, looking at Will.
“It doesn’t look like you’ve had a shortage of liquor tonight,” Will responds, pulling Connor into his house before he passes out on the front step.
“Still…” Connor looks around.
“Okay, sit down on the couch, I’m getting you a change of clothes and a glass of water and then you can tell me why you showed up here.” Will pushes Connor in the general direction of the living room before heading towards the bedroom. He’s not far enough away that he misses when Connor speaks.
“I came to tell you about what happened to my mother.”
Will rummages around in his drawer for a clean shirt and sweats and considers his options. He could go back out there and try and distract Connor with a movie or something, put him to bed in the guest room and in the morning, this would all be over. Or he could sit down with Connor and actually learn about his life.
He opts for the second and steels himself before walking out into the living room.
Dropping the clothes on the couch next to Connor, Will walks into the kitchen to get water and gives Connor the requisite 2 minutes to get changed. He’s a doctor; he’s not slow at dressing. But fuck, Will should really have anticipated how amazing Connor would look in his clothes.
He’s a bit shorter than Will so the sweats are a bit large but it’s the shirt that really catches Will’s attention. Connor’s ripped in the chest and arms, Will’s noticed that before but it’s on the center of attention now. The shirt is from when Will played soccer in High School and while he was pretty bulked up then, the shirt is snug across Connor’s chest. He can see the outline of Connor’s pecks without even having to stare that hard. He should have opted for option one.
Connor takes a sip of the water and just kinda stares at Will. Will tells himself it’s because Connor’s drunk.
“So your mother?” He prompts; running a hand through is own hair.
Connor slides closer to Will and Will has to remind himself that Connor is drunk, this doesn’t mean anything, so he doesn’t get his hopes up.
“She jumped off the roof when I was 10,” Connor says quietly, putting his head on Will’s shoulder. “She was depressed and she couldn’t get help and so…”
Connor closes his eyes and breathes hard like he’s trying not to cry.
“That’s what Claire knows.” He adds, and hugs his arms around his chest.
Will puts an arm around Connor, tells himself that Connor won’t remember this in the morning, and rubs his shoulder slowly.
“What really happened is that my dad, he-“ Connor can’t stop himself from crying now.
Will makes the mistake of looking into Connor’s eyes and fuck, Connor is beside himself with sadness, and it’s flowing from every pore of his body. Will doesn’t know what to do. Thankfully, Connor, as usual, does.
“My dad would get drunk and he’d take it out on her.” Connor blurts out, “She couldn’t get out, since my family is so well known. And yeah, she was depressed but I fully believe that my father’s abuse drove her off the roof.”
Will tries not to gape at Connor. He’s obviously never said anything about this to anyone, save for maybe his father. It opens a lot of doors to the rest of Connor’s past and Will would give anything to know how to help him.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” Connor sniffs and lets his head fall back against the back of the couch.
Will hasn’t said anything yet, doesn’t quite know what to say.
“I think that, I think that even though you’re kind of an asshole, that I can trust you. You aren’t just using me.” Connor explains, gesturing with one hand. “Her death and my father is the reason I left. Claire doesn’t know and she hates me because she thinks I just abandoned her, which I guess I kind of did.”
Connor’s breathing way too quickly for this to be healthy and so Will puts a hand on Connor’s back.
“You have to breathe, buddy.”
Connor, surprisingly still somewhat capable of moving, uses Will’s hand as leverage and swings himself onto Will’s lap.
They look at each other for a few tantalizing seconds before Connor timidly leans in and presses his lips to Will’s.
Will allows himself a bit more than a fraction of a second to enjoy the kiss before he’s pushing at Connor’s chest.
“Not tonight,” He says quietly, shaking his head. “Not while you’re drunk.”
Connor nods but the movement is forced and exhaustion is coming off of him in waves.
“Come on, let’s get you some sleep and then tomorrow, we’ll talk.” Will explains, helping Connor towards the guest bedroom.
“Stay?” Connor sleepily slurs his words.
Will sighs and lies down on the far side of the bed. It’s just because Connor’s sad, he tells himself. It’s really not.
Will barely gets any sleep, he can’t shake the feeling of Connor’s lips on his how he tasted like the combination of liquor he’d had that night and just a bit like Will had always imagined. When he deems it a reasonable hour, he gets out of bed to make coffee. He’s got to be at work in an hour, Connor too, yet he doesn’t have the heart to wake the man sleeping in his guest bedroom.
Turns out Connor’s got his own built in alarm clock and just when Will’s finished making coffee, Connor appears in the kitchen.
He takes a seat at the breakfast bar and Will hands him a cup of coffee. “We can swing by McDonald’s or something on the way to work. Your hangover needs it.”
“Look Will, I don’t know what I told you last night, but it’s really not that big of a deal, you can forget what I said.”
Will tightens his grip on his cup. “And that kiss? Am I just supposed to forget about that?”
Connor looks up at him. “You weren’t exactly eager so,”
The walls are coming up around Connor again and Will desperately needs that to stop.
“You were drunk.”
“So just call it that,” Connor looks him in the eyes.
“No, you were drunk so I wasn’t going to take advantage of you, idiot.” Will smiles softly and sets his coffee down, closing the space between him and Connor.
Connor’s a shy kisser, which is not at all what Will expected. It’s like he wants to give the person he’s kissing a way out. It’s so self-deprecating that it burns Will to the core.
“Kiss me. Come on.” Will says against his lips. “I’m not walking away from this.”
It takes a second for Connor’s hung over mind to figure out what Will’s talking about. He presses closer to Will, kissing him insistently.
“Better?” He smirks as he pulls back, praising himself for the way that Will’s lips try to follow his own.
“Competitive much?” Will crosses his arms.
“Shut up and kiss me already. What are you waiting for?”
When they finally pull away, Connor is dizzy with the feeling of Will’s lips on his. That might just be the hangover though.
“Okay, I need greasy food and we need to get into work.” Connor sighs.
“Your stuff is in the dryer.” Will points towards the laundry. “Grab a hoodie from the closet too, you’ll freeze.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Will flips him off and runs upstairs to grab his stuff.
It’s only when they get to work that Will realizes what hoodie Connor is wearing. He grabbed the one that Will wore pretty much everyday through med school and it was too big for him in the first place. It looks so fucking cute on Connor.
“Hey Connor,” Natalie smiles at him when they get to work, “I didn’t know that you and Will went to UIC together.”
“We didn’t.” Connor smirks and takes way too much pleasure watching her figure out exactly what he means.