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Josh was used to early mornings.
Wake up at six, practice at seven, classes at nine, more training in the afternoon, and then whatever else his coach threw at him before the day was over. His schedule was structured, demanding, and physically exhausting, but he liked it that way. Soccer had been his life for as long as he could remember, and the only reason he was in college at all was because of his scholarship. He didn’t have the luxury of slacking off.
Tyler, on the other hand, was not used to the light of day at all.
He was a computer science major, which meant he spent most of his time staring at a screen, debugging code, and cursing at his laptop at odd hours of the night. His world was logic, numbers, and problem-solving, and he was the kind of guy who forgot to eat when he was too deep in a project. If it weren’t for Josh waking up at ungodly hours and making noise, Tyler would probably sleep until noon every single day.
At first, the shared dorm felt like a nightmare waiting to happen.
Josh didn’t get how Tyler could spend hours working on a single assignment, and Tyler didn’t understand why Josh acted like showering at five-thirty in the morning required blasting music.
Their room was always a mess, Tyler’s side covered in wires, notebooks full of scribbled equations and cans of red bull, while Josh’s side was a disaster of soccer gear and protein bar wrappers that never made it to the trash.
But somehow, against all odds, they got along. And at some point, they stopped being just roommates tolerating each other and started actually being friendly.
It started with homework. Josh had always been good at soccer, but school? Not so much. He had to maintain a minimum grade to keep his scholarship, and after bombing his first exam in his general education math class, he realized he was in trouble.
It wasn’t official tutoring or anything. It started with Josh asking something like, "Dude, what the hell is an exponential function?" while Tyler was working on his own project.
Tyler, barely looking up, gave him a quick explanation. Then it happened again. And again. Until eventually, Josh just started sitting at Tyler’s desk whenever he had assignments, waiting for him to sigh, roll his eyes, and explain things in a way that actually made sense.
Or maybe it started when Josh dragged Tyler to his first frat party.
It wasn’t optional. Josh had burst into their dorm room, all energy and excitement, tossing a random hoodie at Tyler.
“You spend too much time here. Touch some grass, man.”
“I have a deadline.”
“And? The code will still be there tomorrow.”
Josh had a certain way of wearing him down, throwing an arm around his shoulder, and grinning until Tyler gave in. And somehow, over time, it just became normal.
Josh had a pre-game? Tyler was there, watching him down shots with his teammates. Frat party? Tyler tagged along, beer in his hand, shaking his head as Josh got pulled into random drinking games.
Tyler didn’t love parties, but he stopped putting up much of a fight when Josh came knocking. And in return, Josh never questioned when Tyler pulled him back to their dorm after practice, shoved his laptop in front of him, and made him finish his assignments.
It worked.
✩
Tyler wasn’t sure when it started. The beer thing.
The first time Josh said it, it was just another dumb joke, something thrown into the chaotic noise of a pre-game where everyone was already halfway drunk before the actual party even began.
They had been sitting on the armrest of the same couch, some drinking game happening in the background, when Josh nudged him.
“Come on, dude, you’re drinking like a freshman.”
Tyler huffed, annoyed, and downed the rest of his beer in one go. Josh grinned, tilting his head in mock approval.
“Good boy.”
It was a joke, obviously. Josh said dumb things all the time. He threw an arm around his teammates, called people "buddy" and "champ", always messing around. This was no different.
But Tyler felt it .
It was instant hot feeling spreading through his stomach, tightening somewhere lower, a flicker of something that shouldn’t have been there at all. He forced out a scoff, rolled his eyes like it was nothing, but his face felt too warm, and his grip tightened around the empty cup in his hand.
Josh kept doing it.
At first, he ignored it, told himself it was just Josh being Josh. But every time he finished a beer, Josh was right there, watching, smirking, saying it again and again like it was part of some unspoken ritual.
"Good boy."
Tyler’s stomach tightened every time. It was just annoying, or at least that’s what he told himself.
But then it became something else. Because suddenly, he was drinking faster, not because he wanted to get drunk, but because he wanted to hear it.
He had a problem. At some point, every party, pre-game or stupid little gathering with their friends became his own personal challenge. How drunk could he get before it became obvious it was for the praise? How long could he last before Josh started smirking like an asshole?
Every time he had a beer now, he had to remind himself to pace it, to not look too eager and to do not react.
That specific night, though, things were a bit different.
Josh’s team had won an important game, one that secured their spot in the season finals. Tyler had been there the whole time— yelling, screaming his lungs out at every score point. His cheeks were even painted with red stripes, the team's official color.
It wasn’t even just Josh’s night. Tyler had also finally finished one of his biggest projects, getting rid of weeks of sleepless nights, stress and nightmares. His professor had personally told him how impressive his work was. It felt good.
So yeah, he wasn’t as reluctant about tonight’s party.
At that point, already hours after the game ended, they were at someone’s house— one of their friends, some guy from the team, but honestly Tyler had already lost track of whose place they were in. It was packed, music was loud, beer pong was happening somewhere, and there was that warm, easy post-game high that made everything a little brighter.
Josh was already drunk. Not wasted, but loose, happy, grinning like an idiot. The kind of drunk that was extra touchy, throwing arms over shoulders, pulling Tyler to talk closer to his ear, laughing with his whole chest.
Tyler was pretty far gone too, but it felt good. The kind of good that made his head light and body warm, that made the cheap beer taste a little better.
They found themselves sitting on the large leather sofa in the living room, a bit worn out, it probably had been through way too many parties and questionable fluid spilling. Josh plopped next to him, legs stretching out, looking genuinely happy in a way that made Tyler feel a bit… stupid.
They both cracked open a fresh can of beer at the same time, sound crisp over the noise of the party. Josh turned to him, eyes bright, grinning.
“To kicking ass,” he said, raising his can.
Tyler smiled. “To being absolute geniuses,” he shot back, tapping his can against Josh’s before they took a long, deep sip.
The beer was cold, refreshing, buzzing against the warmth already setting under Tyler’s skin.
And then, just as he swallowed, Josh glanced at him, smirked, and said it— smooth, low, teasing.
“ Good Boy .”
Tyler nearly choked. The words sank too fast and too deep, like heat pooling low in his stomach.
He should have ignored it and kept going just like he did every single time. Instead, before his hazy brain could catch up, he tipped his head back and took another long sip of the beer, almost finishing in one go.
Josh watched him, very subtle, eyes flickering over the way his throat bobbed as he downed the beer.
Tyler was definitely drunk now. His skin felt flushed, cheeks burning from more than just the alcohol, lips plump and wet. He ran his tongue over them as he lowered his head, almost crushing the can into his hand.
Josh leaned back against the couch with a lazy chuckle.
“Damn” he muttered, voice low and amused, still staring at Tyler. “You look good like this.”
Tyler blinked, his fogged brain short-circuiting for a second too long.
He had no idea what that even meant, but his cheeks felt warm right away. He let out a short laugh, his head toward Josh, way too drunk to care anymore.
“Yeah?” he blurted. “You look good too.”
The second it left his mouth, Josh’s expression shifted. Not in surprise, or even in shock. It was in satisfaction.
He turned to Tyler fully now, one arm draped over the back of the couch, his fingers absently brushing against the other’s shoulder, just barely touching but enough to make him feel it everywhere.
Josh smirked again, slow, confident. Like he has just been waiting for Tyler to say something stupid like that.
“Oh yeah?”
Tyler could feel everything.
The way Josh’s knee knocked into his when he shifted. How his hand lingered, a lazy, absentminded touch that shouldn’t have been doing so much to him. The way Josh was looking at him now, eyes half-lidded, lips curled in a smirk like he knew exactly what he was doing.
Tyler swallowed. “Yeah.”
Josh’s arm was still resting on the back of the couch, but now his fingers were right near the nape of Tyler’s neck, close enough that Tyler could feel the heat radiating from them.
“Think so?”
Tyler licked his lips, his stomach flipping when he saw the way Josh’s eyes tracked the movement.
“Yeah,” he repeated, voice a little rougher.
Tyler shifted, their knees pressing more firmly together, and Josh didn’t move away. He exhaled, too warm, too wired, his body reacting before his brain could stop it.
His own hand landed on Josh’s knee, casual, but not really. Josh’s smirk twitched, fingers dragging just a little more, fingertips brushing at the hair at the back of Tyler’s head now, and Tyler had to stop himself from shuddering.
Josh grinned. “You okay there?”
Tyler took the last sip of his beer, breaking eye contact just for a second, trying to cool the heat creeping up his throat.
Josh watched him, not even pretending not to.
And then he leaned in, breath warm near his ear, voice low enough that Tyler swore he felt it more than heard it.
And then, it was gone.
The warmth, the touch, the moment—all ripped away in an instant.
Josh was suddenly pulled off the couch, yanked back by two of his teammates, both of them clearly wasted, grinning like idiots.
“Come on, bro! You’re up!”
Josh let out a breathless laugh, confused and unsteady as they practically dragged him to his feet.
“Wait—what?”
“Fucking relay challenge, man! Let’s go!”
Josh barely had time to react before they were hauling him across the room, straight toward a group of guys cheering around a makeshift drinking game setup.
Tyler just sat there, still stunned, his body not catching up to the fact that Josh wasn’t next to him anymore. His breath was uneven, his skin too hot, his pulse still hammering from nothing but a few teasing touches and a too-close whisper.
Fuck.
He suddenly noticed the hard press of heat between his legs, tight and obvious in his jeans.
Fuck, fuck, fuck —
He immediately crossed his legs, shifting way too quickly, face burning as he pressed his thighs together, trying to fix the situation before anyone noticed.
He let out a slow, shaky breath, dragging a hand over his face.
He needed another beer.
✩
The last hour of the party passed in a blur of beer, cheers, and way too much noise. Josh was still caught up in games with his teammates, moving from drinking challenges to whatever dumb competition they could come up with next, while Tyler stuck to the edges of the crowd, drink in hand, trying to ignore the persistent warmth still crawling up his spine.
The whole thing on the couch? He wasn’t thinking about it. Or at least, he was trying not to.
He had managed to cool off—mostly—but every now and then, Josh would glance at him across the room, still flushed, still grinning like a cocky asshole, still way too comfortable in his own skin, and Tyler would have to take a long sip of his beer and remind himself to keep it together.
By the time he found himself in the backyard, the party was still going strong inside, but out here, things were quieter. He took another slow pull from the vape someone had handed him, blowing the smoke out toward the sky, trying to clear his head.
It almost worked. Until a warm hand slipped around his waist.
“Hey,” Josh’s voice was smooth, right against his ear. “I was looking for you.”
Tyler barely had time to react before he felt pressure against his side, warm, solid, the kind of casual touch that shouldn’t have felt as intentional as it did.
He exhaled slowly, glancing over his shoulder. “You were?”
“Yeah,” he said easily, like it was obvious. “Let’s head out?”
His grip on Tyler’s waist tightened. Josh tilted his head slightly, watching him. “Unless you wanna drink more—”
“Oh, no. I’m out.”
Josh’s smirk deepened, amused, but he didn’t push it.
His fingers gave one last press, then slipped away as he took a step back, nodding toward the street.
“Come on, then.”
The cab smelled like cheap leather and leftover cigarette smoke.Tyler barely processed getting in, but now that they were seated, the realization hit him all at once.
They were wasted.
His head was cloudy, everything too warm, too sharp, too much, and somehow, he felt everything even more intensely now that they weren’t surrounded by people.
He felt Josh, way too much.
He was close, even though there was plenty of space on the seat, Josh was practically pressed against him, legs wide, knee knocking into Tyler’s thigh and staying there. He wasn’t even pretending to give him space. He was leaning in, cocky, clingy, like it would only take a slight shift before he’d just pull Tyler into his lap and act like it was normal.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Tyler ran a hand down his face, exhaling, trying to get his brain to function past the alcohol and the fact that his fucking roommate was hitting on him.
Josh was hitting on him. That wasn’t even up for debate anymore.
And then Josh chuckled, low and deep, and just when Tyler thought he couldn’t make this situation any worse, he went and did exactly that.
Josh turned his head slightly, breath hot against the side of Tyler’s face, and—
“Been keeping up with me all night,” he murmured, voice slow, amused. “Such a good boy.”
Tyler’s body stiffened instantly.
His cock twitched inside his jeans, a fresh wave of heat spreading straight to his gut, and fuck, not again, not here, not in a goddamn cab . He sucked in a breath, fingers curling into his pants. He turned his head, eyes locking on Josh’s, and suddenly, nothing mattered anymore because Josh was right there.
Right there. His lips were so close, so easy to reach, his stupid smirk still sitting on his face, and Tyler wasn’t thinking anymore.
He leaned in, and he kissed him.
Josh made a sound against his lips—half-surprised, half-something else—but then he tilted his head, and just like that, it deepened.
Tyler felt everything. The way Josh’s lips parted, the way his hand came up to grip his thigh, the way he tasted like beer and bubblegum. He kissed him back like he had been waiting for it, like he was just as fucking desperate. His fingers dug into Tyler’s thigh over his jeans, and Tyler groaned against his mouth, grabbing Josh’s jaw and pulling him in even harder.
It was messy, sloppy, the alcohol making everything hot and reckless. Josh licked into his mouth, and Tyler swore he felt his entire body tremble from it.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the driver was watching them through the mirror. He didn’t care.
“Fuck,” Tyler whispered, his forehead resting against Josh’s for a brief second as they caught their breath.
Josh’s hand tugged him even closer, their legs now a tangled mess on the worn leather seat. Tyler’s heartbeat thundered in his ears when Josh’s lips trailed along his jaw, his teeth grazing over sensitive skin, breath warm against his neck.
“Oh God,” Tyler breathed, fingers tightening in Josh’s hair.
Josh chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, vibrating against Tyler’s skin. “You’re so responsive,” he murmured, his lips brushing Tyler’s ear. “It’s kinda hot.”
Josh’s fingers trailed down Tyler’s chest, lingering just above the waistband of his jeans before sliding lower, pressing firmly against the hard bulge beneath. It wasn’t a subtle touch.
Tyler’s breath caught, hips jerking up into the pressure, heat coiling low in his belly. His fingers curled into the edge of the seat, body tense and aching, desperate for more. He bit down on his lower lip, trying to keep himself in check, but Josh wasn’t making it easy.
Josh’s thumb traced slow, lazy circles over the denim, applying just enough pressure to make Tyler squirm, his body begging for more.
“Look at you,” Josh murmured, voice low and rough, almost teasing. “So worked up.”
Tyler clenched his jaw, muscles taut, hips arching into Josh’s touch.“You’re an asshole,” he muttered, trying to keep his voice low.
By the time they reached their dorm, Tyler wasn’t even sure how he managed to pay the driver. He shoved cash into the guy’s hand so fast he dropped a few coins onto the pavement, mumbling, "Sorry—so sorry," even though Josh was pressing against him tight, filthy and unapologetic.
As soon as their door swung shut, Tyler’s back hit it with a thud. Josh was on him, quick, hands braced on either side of his head, lips crashing into him with hunger and heat, like it had been all night.
Tyler let out a muffled sound, immediately melting into the kiss. He pulled Josh closer by the nape, fingers tangling in the black curls. Their mouths moved together with desperate urgency, all teeth and tongue and need that came from too much alcohol and too little self control.
Tyler breathed against Josh’s lips, laughing softly, hazy. “You’re like a damn bulldozer.”
Josh grinned. “Can you blame me?” he whispered, leaning in to nip against Tyler’s jaw. “You were begging for it.”
“You’re ridiculous.” his breath hitched, but managed to answer with a low whimper.
“Am I?” Josh teased, one hand now sliding down Tyler’s hips as he flushed them together. “Because I’m pretty sure you like it when I tell you how good you are.”
Tyler let out a strangled noise, fingers tightening in Josh’s hair as heat coiled low in his belly. Their hips were now rolling in a slow, deliberate grind, enough to make Tyler squirm at the feeling of his strangled cock against his tight jeans. At a particular well-aimed thrust, he gasped, head falling back against the door.
Josh was getting a little impatient himself, way too worked up already. He pulled a dizzy Tyler out of the door, guiding them to their messy room. Their lips never left each other’s skin, hand roaming, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake, shirts and jeans and socks discarded carelessly on the floor.
Tyler was left only wearing the team jersey he borrowed from Josh earlier to go to his game. His cock was straining against the tight confines of his boxers, impossible to ignore at that point.
Josh’s fingers flexed against the heat of Tyler’s arousal, applying just enough pressure to make him tremble. He chuckled, voice dark and pleased, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin beneath Tyler’s ear, letting his teeth scrape over it before soothing the mark with his tongue. His hand trailed up, fingers tracing slow, teasing lines along the band of Tyler’s boxers.
“Come on,” Josh murmured, his breath warm against Tyler’s skin. “Show me how good you can be.”
Tyler’s knees nearly buckled at the words alone.
Josh, sensing it, took a step back, his hands still firm on Tyler’s shoulders as he guided him down. Tyler sank without resistance, knees on the carpet, hands splaying against Josh’s thighs for balance, looking up through half-lidded eyes. His lips were parted, his breath uneven, his entire body wound tight with anticipation.
Josh exhaled shakily, the sight nearly undoing him. His fingers brushed through Tyler’s hair, tilting his head slightly, a silent encouragement.
“There you go,” Josh whispered, his voice thick with something between hunger and admiration. His thumb brushed along Tyler's lower lip, feeling the softness, the heat of his breath against his skin.
Tyler's lips parted, breath hitching as Josh's thumb slipped inside, pressing down on his tongue. His eyes fluttered, almost dazed with arousal, his tongue flicking out to taste the skin. He looked up at Josh through thick lashes, eyes dark with anticipation.
Josh’s cock throbbed almost painfully, straining against the confines of his gym shorts. Unable to wait any longer, he reached down and shoved his shorts and underwear out of the way, his erection springing free to curve up against his stomach.
Tyler’s breath hitched as he took in the sight before him. His mind flickered back to all the times he’d accidentally walked in on Josh in their shared bathroom, always trying to look away.
Now, there was no quick glance, Tyler stared at the huge thing in front of him, red and throbbing, desperate for attention, and his hand moved on instinct, reaching out to wrap around Josh.
He glanced up at him before giving an experimental lick to the head, tongue swiping over the slit to taste the leaking precome. Josh groaned at the sensation, his hips bucking forward. Tyler didn't tease for long.
Mouth opening, he slid his lips over the head of Josh's cock, tongue swirling around the sensitive flesh.
Josh groaned, one hand flying to Tyler's hair.
Tyler hummed in response, the vibrations traveling up Josh's shaft. He started to move then, head going down as he took more of Josh into his mouth. His tongue worked along the underside, tracing all his veins and ridges.
Josh moaned loud, fingers tightening almost painfully in Tyler's hair as he watched his cock disappear past his stretched lips.
"Yes, just like that," he panted. "Take it all."
He took Josh slowly, inch by inch, relaxing to accommodate the thickness stretching his lips. He almost gagged when the head finally hit the back of his throat, but Tyler fought through it.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, saliva slicking his chin. The sight itself sent Josh barreling towards the edge. Holding Tyler's head still, he slowly thrust forward, testingly.
Fucking hell.
Josh began to get a stable rhythm, savoring the heat and the way Tyler eagerly took him in. He was mindful of the tight fit, trying not to choke him. Tyler's hands gripped his thighs, fingers digging into the muscle as he sucked harder.
"Such a good boy," Josh praised breathlessly, sending a jolt of pure pleasure through Tyler's system. His cock throbbed with each word. "Who knew a guy like you would enjoy being used like this so much?”
Tyler moaned desperately around the thickness filling his mouth, eyes fluttering at the filthy praise. God, he was so hard it hurted, leaking against his boxers from just the sounds alone. One of his hands slipped underneath the waistband to wrap around himself, stroking in time with the thrusts down his throat.
The wet, obscene sounds filled the room as Josh slowly face-fucked him, taking his mouth like he owned it. Tyler relished every praise, head swimming with the euphoria of being used for Josh's pleasure and the remains of the alcohol dizziness.
"So fucking pretty with your mouth full,” Josh grunted above him, snapping his hips harder. "You love being face-fucked, don't you?"
The filthy words sent a full-body shudder through Tyler. His hand was a blur on his cock, hips bucking forward to meet every snap of Josh's, fucking into his fist. Spit and precum dribbled down his chin, tears of effort wetting his face. He'd never been so debased, and he'd never been so turned on in his life.
"Bet you'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you, easy boy?"
Yes, yes, oh my God yes. Tyler begged silently. His orgasm built with every filthy word, the sound of Josh's voice enough to send him spinning out of control.
Josh grunted, snapped his hips harder, losing himself in the perfect heat of Tyler's talented mouth. He bottomed out against the back of Tyler's throat with every thrust, feeling the muscles work around him as Tyler fought to swallow around the thickness.
The obscene spectacle of Tyler's debauched face – lips swollen and spit-slick, chin dripping, eyes dazed and tear-streaked – was the hottest thing Josh had ever seen in his entire life. Even considering the unhealthy amount of porn he watched. He wasn't going to last, he could already feel the familiar tingling warning at the base of his spine.
"Fuck, you're good at this," Josh panted, his voice wrecked. "You're gonna make me cum, baby, you want that?”
Tyler's only response was to moan louder, redoubling his efforts. Fuck, he needed it , needed Josh to fall apart because of him. Needed to taste him on his tongue, to swallow him down.
Josh lasted only a few more thrusts before the pleasure crested, his orgasm slamming into him. He moaned loud, fingers clenching almost painfully in Tyler's hair as his cock throbbed, spilling deep into his throat.
Tyler choked on the sudden flood, eyes watering, but he swallowed greedily around it even as he came himself. His hips stuttered, muscles seizing as his climax overtook him, striping his hand and boxers with his release, filthy moans muffled around his mouthful.
They shuddered through the aftershocks together, wrung-out and boneless. Slowly, Josh pulled back, his cock slipping from between Tyler's swollen lips with an obscene pop, trails of spit and cum connecting them.
Josh looked down at Tyler, taking in the sight of him—flushed, breathless, eyes heavy with desire—and something twisted deep in his chest. Tyler blinked dazedly up at him, lips parted and obscene as he tried to catch his breath. He laughed, drunk on endorphins and the taste of Josh on his tongue.
“Look at you,” Josh murmured, his voice low and warm. “Fucking unreal.”
Then he was hauling Tyler up into a filthy, cum-slicked kiss, licking into his mouth. Tyler whimpered, winding his arms around Josh's neck, returning the kiss with enthusiasm.
"Next time, it's on you.” Tyler said, voice almost ruined, as they separated briefly, foreheads together as they caught their breaths.
They tumbled onto Tyler’s bed breathless, limbs tangled together in a mess of sweaty skin and exhaustion. The sheets were barely pulled up, the rest of clothes forgotten somewhere on the floor.
Tyler sprawled half on top of him, his head nestled in the crook of Josh’s shoulder. They were both still buzzing—drunk on beer and in whatever the fuck just happened in that damn carpet.
After a long silence, Tyler let out a groggy laugh, fingers trailing absently over Josh’s chest. “What the fuck was that?”
“No fucking idea. But you know, I’m not complaining.”Josh huffed, a lazy smile on his lips as he stared at their ceiling.
Tyler’s cheeks got red, but he laughed, eyes heavy and throat sore.
Two minutes passed.
“What the hell are we?” Tyler’s voice cracked a bit.
Josh groaned, already half aslee
“We’re drunk as fuck.” he shrugged lazily, one arm flopping around to gesture vaguely. “Now go to sleep.”
He wrapped his arms around Tyler, pulling him in snug, their legs still tangled together.
Tyler drifted out to sleep almost instantly.
✩
Tyler sat at his desk, hunched over his laptop. His screen glowed against the dim light, displaying a sea of code that had started blurring together at this point.
He hadn’t made any progress in over twenty minutes. His fingers hovered above the keyboard, unmoving, as if his brain had short-circuited somewhere between trying to fix a loop and replaying last night in horrifying, gut-wrenching detail.
He wasn’t thinking about it. Not at all. Nope. Definitely not.
His head pounded, a dull ache that had been nagging him since the second he opened his eyes that morning, hungover, and realized that Josh was gone. No note, no text. The bed beside him was cold, the sheets rumpled, and the pillow still held the faintest trace of Josh’s scent.
Tyler dragged a hand through his hair, groaning louder. “Fucking hell,” he muttered.
It shouldn’t bug him. Seriously. It wasn’t like Josh owed him a good morning kiss or a breakfast burrito.
People had drunken hook-ups all the time. It wasn’t like it meant anything. He just happened to be his roommate, unfortunately. He tried to tell himself that over and over again, like repetition could drill it into his brain.
It wasn’t that deep.
Right?
His thoughts were interrupted by the click of the dorm door unlocking.
Josh walked in, sweaty and flushed from practice, water bottle in hand. His gym bag hit the floor with a dull thunk, and for just a second, neither of them said anything.
Josh glanced over, eyes a little unreadable. “Hey.”
Tyler cleared his throat, trying to seem casual. “Hey.”
The silence that followed could have swallowed them whole.
Josh took a sip of water, then scratched the back of his neck. “Uh… last night was...”
Tyler typed on his keyboard way too desperately now. “Yeah. Crazy.”
“But, like, we’re good, right?”
“Yeah, totally.” Tyler’s voice cracked. “No big deal.”
“Nope, not at all.”
They both laughed. Sort of. It was forced. Painfully forced.
Another beat passed.
Josh rubbed his palms on his gym shorts. “So, uh… we’re cool, like, for real?”
Tyler gave him a thumbs up.
“Awesome.”
Josh stood there, awkwardly frozen. Tyler pretended to go back to work. Neither of them was breathing right.
And that was it. The official conversation.
They didn’t talk about it again for two full weeks.
But they felt it. Every damn second.
The jokes still happened, but now they barely chuckled. The air between them was tight, like the room was too small to hold them both anymore. Josh would make some offhand comment and Tyler would half-smile, stare at his screen, and mumble something back.
It used to be funny. Now it was just weird. Off.
Every word felt like a landmine. Josh missed just being normal. Whatever normal had been before Tyler got on his knees and scrambled his brain.
God, Josh missed him. Probably way more than me misses me, he thought.
Not just because now he knew what Tyler's mouth tasted like and how good of a throat he had. He missed Tyler talking to him. Missed the sound of his voice. Missed him. Josh would wake up some nights and see him passed out across the room, hoodie slipping off one shoulder, face buried in his pillow and Josh’s chest would ache like an idiot.
Now Tyler was always “busy.” Always “tired.” He disappeared to the library when he knew Josh would be in their room.
Josh knew he was full of shit.
Tyler wasn’t coming to his games anymore, not even the big ones. He skipped every post-game hangout, every party, every random night out. Josh would text, drop hints in the morning, and Tyler would hit him with “Sorry, man. Tired. ” or “Got a project.” Like clockwork.
So yeah, he was being avoided.
And fine, whatever. Maybe hooking up with your best friend was as dumb as everyone made it out to be. Josh got the memo. Loud and clear.
Practice wasn’t helping either. He was off his game, moody, snapping at teammates.
That’s when it happened.
Locker room. Post exhibition game. They won but just barely. Everyone was half-naked and exhausted, the air thick with sweat and cheap body spray. Josh was yanking off his cleats, mind in a fog, when Nick flopped onto the bench next to him, sipping from a Gatorade.
“Yo,” he said casually, “Where’s Tyler? Didn’t see him at the game. Haven’t seen him in a while, actually.”
Josh didn’t even look up. “He’s busy.”
Nick shrugged. “Huh. Just figured he’d be here. You know—supporting you.”
Josh glanced at him, wary. “Why would he?”
Nick shrugged, not picking up on the sudden tension. “I mean, you two are a thing, right?”
Josh stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “What?”
Now Nick froze. “ Oh. Oh, shit—sorry, man. I just thought— dude, I thought you guys were dating or something.”
Josh blinked, totally blank. “We’re not.”
“Oh.” Nick’s voice cracked. “Yeah. Cool. That’s cool. I just—uh—forget I said anything.”
Josh didn’t answer. Just sat there, towel clenched in his fist, heart beating way too loud in his chest.
Yeah. Fucking awkward.
✩
Josh should’ve been happy.
His team had just won the biggest game of the season. He scored twice, the crowd was electric, his teammates were high-fiving like maniacs, and people were chanting his name like he was some kind of hero.
However, he felt like shit.
Because when he scored that first goal, he looked straight at the bleachers—right where Tyler always sat, screaming like a lunatic—and there was nothing. No obnoxious yell. No middle finger in the air. No “THAT’S MY ROOMMATE, ASSHOLES!” that made the whole stadium stare.
He’d never realized how much he needed to hear Tyler scream at him from the stands until it wasn’t there.
And now here he was, hours later, in some random frat house, beer in hand, drunk as hell, trying so hard to forget about it.
He flopped onto a disgusting couch that smelled like spilled tequila, his head spinning. His limbs felt like jelly, and his stomach was full of beer and feelings, which was a terrible combination.
Chris, his goalkeeper, was sitting beside him, sipping some kind of horrifying green punch. Mark, cinema student who somehow always ended up at these parties despite not even liking them, was lounging in a chair nearby. He was friends with Tyler too, and that fact made Josh’s stomach turn.
He groaned into his hands.
“I’m gonna die, dude.”
Chris blinked. “You’re drunk.”
Josh lifted his head, eyes glassy. “No, I’m dying. My heart’s like—” He beat his chest dramatically. “Not okay.”
Chris raised a brow. “We just won, man. You should be celebrating.”
Josh scoffed, downing the rest of his drink. “Yeah, well, winning’s overrated when the one person you wanna tell about it won’t even look at you.”
“Tyler?” Chris asked, even if it was obvious.
“Wait— Tyler , Tyler?” Mark, across them, almost choked on his beer. But quickly his expression shifted in realization. “Nevermind, that makes sense.”
“He won’t even look at me, dude.” Josh whimpered. He waved his beer around, sloshing it everywhere. “I kissed him. No, no, I— fuck —I can’t even look at our dorm floor anymore without getting hard.”
Mark gagged. “Jesus Christ.”
Josh pointed at them with a shaking beer can. “Don’t ever fuck your roommate. You’ll miss their laugh and the way they breathe—you’ll miss their fucking breathing, man.”
Chris blinked, eyes fixed behind Josh. “Uh, dude?”
Josh buried his face in one of his hands, on the verge of crying, ignoring him. “I’m never gonna have sex again. I’m in love with a guy who won’t talk to me. And my balls hurt.”
“Josh.” Mark called.
“What?”
Neither of them answered. Mark slapped his arm once and left his chair, pulling Chris with him.
Josh turned.
There, standing just behind the couch, was Tyler, holding a four-pack of beer, face unreadable—but his ears were pink, and Josh could tell from one glance he’d heard a little too much.
Tyler raised the beer pack slightly, voice calm. “Felt bad about missing this game.”
Josh stared up at him, frozen in place. There was silence for a few seconds.
“So… Your balls hurt?” Tyler said deadpan.
Josh opened his mouth to defend himself—and then, like a dam broke, he cracked . He choked on his own laugh, face red and flushed. Tyler was wheezing, and neither of them could even explain why it was so funny, only that the tension finally snapped, and it felt good.
Josh wiped his eyes and looked at Tyler. “I think I’m gonna die.”
Tyler was still laughing, dropping the beer onto the coffee table and flopping into the couch beside him. It was so stupid, the whole thing, all the silence and tension and pretending, and now here they were.
Two idiots.
Eventually, Tyler wiped his eyes, breath still coming in little huffs. “Okay, okay.”
Josh looked at him, still grinning but eyes a little softer. “Yeah?”
“Could we maybe…” Tyler started, apprehensive. “Just go back to normal? Like, actual normal, not this bullshit.”
“I seriously thought you hated me.”
Tyler shook his head. “Nah. Just needed some time. But, like… let’s not do the whole 'being weird’ thing again. I mean, you could’ve just talked to me.”
“I tried! You vanished!”
“You think I could just show up like nothing happened? You’re—you’re Josh!”
“What the fuck does that even mean?!”
Tyler pointed at him, flustered. “You’re loud! And hot! And have, like, 8000 people in love with you already!”
Josh blinked again, then grinned. “Wait, you think I’m hot?”
Tyler immediately facepalmed. “Oh my god.”
They both sat there for a moment, red-faced and slightly breathless until finally Josh nudged him in with a crooked smile.
“So… are we good? Like, for real.”
Tyler glanced at him. “Yeah. I think we’re good.”
A beat of silence. A few minutes passed.
“Cool,” Josh cleared his throat. “So, uh, just to clarify… Does ‘good’ mean we can make out again? Because I wasn’t lying about my balls—”
Tyler didn’t even let him finish. He cracked open a can from his beer pack with one sharp psshht , and took a long gulp.
Still not looking at Josh, he set the can down, wiped his mouth, and casually rested a hand on Josh’s thigh. His eyes stayed glued to literally anywhere that wasn’t Josh’s face as he muttered, “Yeah, sure. You owe me one.”
Josh blinked, stunned for a second. Then he grinned, all teeth and drunken joy.
“Nice,” he said, practically beaming.
“Good.”
Another beat of silence.
Tyler finally— finally —glanced at Josh, lips twitching into a smile he couldn’t quite bite back.
“Do you want to—”
“Yes. Please.”
Josh’s voice cracked mid-sentence, and before either of them could think twice, their mouths crashed together.
Their hands roamed, clumsy and hungry, dragging over ribs, hips, thighs, holding like they couldn’t get close enough. The kiss was messy—Josh’s hand cupping the back of Tyler’s neck, pulling him in hard, while Tyler’s fingers fisted the fabric of Josh’s shirt, dragging him closer with no real finesse.
Their kiss broke for a second—barely a breath—both of them panting, flushed, staring at each other like they didn’t remember where they were.
“You wanna get out of here?”
Tyler didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”
Josh’s gaze dropped to Tyler’s mouth, leaning to bite down on his lower lip, slow and deliberate.
“Good boy.”