A/N: okay so don't ask me how they convinced all the parents to let them have a sleepover. maybe this was adams last ditch attempt to try and not be an ass hole about connor's sexuality. whatever justification works for you... anyways i've also always wanted to explore connor's like of drawing (and thank-you to whoever in the fandom paid attention to the background and figured that out!) so yeah, hope you like it.


The world was hazy, coming to him slowly, one piece at a time. He noticed the sun first, warming the skin on his back and how it felt different to how the blanket that he had at some point kicked down below his hips felt over his legs. The sun was purer. It didn't feel as stuffy or confining. It felt freeing over his bare skin which was the next thing to register in his head. He always slept with a T-shirt. Then he remembered how Connor had slipped his hands under the hem, his fingers softly assuring the skin underneath before pulling it up and over his head. He remembered kissing Connor once he had tossed the shirt on the floor, hard, harder than he ever had before and fisting his own hands into Connor's shirt, urging him to let him do the same. Which, of course, he had before pulling Jude back towards his bed. He remembered hovering over Connor, feeling his hands travel up and down his spine before settling into the dip in his lower back, exploring but also just trying to hold him close. Before it went further, he curled up next to Connor tucking his chin into his chest so he could listen to his heart beat slow as they drifted to sleep. Jude knew neither of them wanted more at the moment. They were happy with the way things were, already more than either had ever hoped for, and silently terrified of it all being ripped away when the sun rose the next morning. This morning.

His eyes were still closed but Jude squeezed them closed tighter, willing himself back to sleep, to stall the morning from coming. It was useless though. Behind the lids of his eyes he could tell Connor's room was already bright. The final countdown clock even began ticking in his head. One. They had until one o'clock until Connor's mom would be at the door downstairs to pick him up and take him away. As he listened, giving up in his attempt to turn it off, he realised the ticks weren't consistent in their rhythm. Their tempo sped and slowed. Some ticks were louder. The more he listen the more the ticks turned into soft scratches. Jude opened his eyes then, realising the sound wasn't in his head. He was facing Connor's dresser, the top cleared of the picture frame and the signed Padre's baseball he'd caught at a game. Inside, Jude knew the drawers were empty too. Yesterday he'd helped Connor transfer the clothes out of them and into a suit case. Turning his head on the pillow, he found the source of the persistent sound. Connor was sitting on the bed beside him, his back resting on a couple pillows he'd propped up, his knees pulled to his chest so he could rest his pad of paper against them, his hand lightly guiding a pencil over the white surface. Jude smiled at the sight. Connor was still shirtless as well, his tan skin glowing in the morning light, his light hair whitewashed into a halo. His boxers hung loosely from his thighs, so relaxed in look despite the tension in his biceps and shoulders as he flexed them just so with every pencil stroke. He looked so focused and Jude wondered how long he'd been awake considering he himself was still fighting the haze of sleep.

"Hey. You moved," Connor said frowning.

"Wait." The only reason for Connor to be upset with his movement would be if he had been the model. "What're you drawing?" Jude reach out and grabbed Connor's arm, pulling himself up to see. Connor had never drawn him before. Or, Jude had never seen the finished work at least.

Connor's eyes shot wide and he angled the pad away from him. "Nothing."

Jude instinctively went to reach for it but stopped himself. Drawing was one of those personal things for Connor. Few people knew he did it. His dad certainly didn't, just one of the many reasons he couldn't stay. Instead of forcing it from his hands, Jude pressed a light kiss to Connor's shoulder. "Let me see," he mumbled against the warm skin.

"Jude," Connor groaned.

"Please," he said, scooting his body closer so he was pressed into Connor's side. He looked up to where Connor's eyes were locked on his pencil. His cheeks were pink and for some reason the tension in his neck drew Jude closer, into unchartered territory as he pressed another kiss just behind his ear. "I love your drawings."

He felt Connor shiver beside him. "Okay," he relented. "But it's dumb and it's not done and I didn't do you justice." Connor slowly handed him the pad of paper but his eyes still refused to leave his pencil.

Jude looked at Connor for a moment longer before turning his attention to the drawing. The lines were soft, still a simple sketch. It was of him, sleeping, his dark hair rustled against the pillow, his grey boxer briefs hugging his ass maybe a little tighter than they should have. He'd started some shading here and there, following the groove of his spine down his exposed back and the dip at its base, highlighting the way the sun's rays were streaming through the window onto his peaceful form. It was the wings though that really captured his attention. There was no way they couldn't have. Large, white featured wings protruded from his shoulder blades and were folded gently by his sides, spilling over the bed sheets.

"Connor… Wow…" he said quietly and almost absentmindedly. He didn't really know what to say. It just seemed to be something more than just a good drawing. It seemed to say something very personal about the way Connor looked at him and felt about him but that was a lot to process and he didn't want to simply assume.

"It's dumb, I know."

"Connor, stop. It's not. It's not dumb at all. It's really good."

"Yeah?"

"Oh my god, Connor. Yeah. I love it." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Connor's cheek before settling against him and leaning his head on his shoulder. He just stared at it for a while, noticing the small smudges in the lead where Connor's hand had rubbed over earlier lines. He loved those, the little imperfections that came with something hand drawn out of a spontaneous feeling. It made it stand apart from every other drawing in the world and made it an extension of the artist. It was like he was holding a small piece of Connor, a small piece that looked at him and saw hope and good and beauty and peace and comfort. "Can I keep it?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence they had drifted into.

He felt Connor shift beside him. "Uh…"

"What?" he asked turning his head.

Connor ducked his and groaned. "Nothing. You can have it if you really want. I was just… I kinda wanted to have something to take with me. You know… Oh my god, why did you have to wake up?"

Jude laughed, amused by his boyfriend's bashfulness. "Okay," he said leaning away from Connor towards the bedside table where his phone sat. He placed the pad of paper strategically amongst the rumpled sheets and grabbed the pencil from Connor's hand to lay across its corner. He angled his phone just so to limit the glare from the sun and snapped a picture.

"You're not posting that, are you?"

"No, relax. I'm like in my underwear. That'd be horrifying. No, this is for me so you can keep the original. I want something too though," he said pouting out his bottom lip.

"Deal," Connor laughed. "Take your pick."

Jude beamed. He'd known for weeks he had wanted something. In his mind, Connor was just as much a part of this final home as Stef and Lena and everyone else was. He had been there since day two and as Stef and Lena worked tirelessly at the house to make him feel safe and wanted and like he belonged, Connor did the same at school. It was because of Connor that he finally got away from being the weird new kid who sat alone at lunch. It was because of Connor that he was finally able to listen to himself and explore his new found freedom.

There were several reasons he didn't have many possessions. Foster families weren't willing to fork out the money and sometimes they had to get out in such a rush that the little they had had to be left behind. Mostly though, Jude didn't want anything that reminded him of those houses and those people who took advantage of him. Now was different though. Now the thought of forgetting was the painful part. Now he wanted to collect every single look Connor gave him or word he spoke to him or the mere feeling of every small touch. He wasn't an unreasonable person though. He'd settle for something actually possible and he knew just what it was.

He hopped off the bed and over to the suit case he'd helped pack. He glanced behind him to see if there was protest but Connor was still sat where he'd left him, smiling back. He unzipped the zipper and dug down a bit before pulling out a black and tan flannel button up. "This!" he said holding it up.

Connor laughed. "Of course. I'm just sad I won't get to see you wear it."

"Well that can be fixed." Jude pulled his arms through the sleeves. It felt soft and warm and safe and everything Jude wanted it to be. He walked back to the bed and snuggled back up to Connor's side. "What time is it?"

"Ten-ish."

"Three hours."

"Yup."

"I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too."