Chapter 1: beer die is a serious sport
Notes:
okay, listen. i went to a small liberal arts college and wasn’t in a sorority, so all i know about greek life is through what my friends told me and my own experiences going to their small parties and stuff. if you go to osu and this is inaccurate, i'm sorry. i've spent so long researching the campus and surrounding area to make this as realistic as possible.
this is your fair warning now. tyler is a huge asshole. this will contain homophobia, slurs, misogyny, alcohol abuse, depression, suicidal ideation, and other things i'm probably forgetting off the top of my head. i'll add more tags as these things come up, but figured it was best to also give you a heads up.
i'm writing this concurrently with pressures of a new place, so updates might take some time. i'll aim for every other week, but i make no promises.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
tyler joined a frat for the same reasons as everybody else: friends, parties, and an excuse for how much he drinks.
ask any other brother in kappa delta rho and they’d probably throw girls on that list, too. most of the ones they obsess over are the same copy-and-paste sorority stereotype. tyler’s never understood it.
they all act the same, talk the same, look the same. not to mention, they’re all annoying as fuck. tyler thought he was lucky when the girl who took a liking to him wasn’t in a sorority.
key word—thought.
she carries herself different, dresses different, talks different. but at the end of the day, she’s just as fucking annoying as the rest of them.
he doesn’t know what it is about girls that bring out the worst in him. his relationship with his mom is fine. he loves his sister. but the thought of getting married, starting a family, spending every day with the same annoying woman—it makes his skin crawl.
no part of him wants that, but it’s what’s supposed to happen, so it’ll happen.
not that he’s thinking about any of that right now.
it’s three weeks into his junior year at ohio state. kdr just wrapped up pledge week and initiated fifty new members, so they’re celebrating. they don’t do much the first few weeks of the semester—too busy with rush events—so tonight is their first real party.
tyler finished his last class hours ago. he’s been on the front lawn of kdr’s house playing beer die ever since.
the weather’s been nice, the sun hot, the beer cold. someone dragged a speaker outside and started playing a mix of kid cudi, mac miller, and some other artists tyler couldn’t name. drake came on at one point, but tyler booed it until someone skipped the track.
tyler’s on table right now. it’s been a while since he started, and by now the sun’s gone down. it’s dark, but the outside lights are bright enough to keep the game going. mostly everybody has gone inside at this point, but the game continues on.
mark’s his partner, and two other guys who live in the house—mike and brad—are on the opposing team. tyler doesn’t know much about them beyond their names.
he’s known mark longer than any of them. they met the very first time they stepped foot on campus, for freshman orientation. they became friends circumstantially. tyler expected after the first few weeks mark would’ve found better friends and fucked off, but that didn’t happen. he did make other friends, but for some reason he liked tyler enough to keep inviting him out.
mark was the one who suggested they rush a frat in the first place. his reasoning being, “our parents can afford it, so we might as well. plus, alcohol.”
that was enough to convince tyler. he’s never really been a people person—which is ironic, considering he goes to one of the largest universities in the country—but mark wanted to meet people, and tyler wanted to have a better excuse to get drunk. besides, drinking makes him into more of a people person. most of the time, at least.
now, after all the hazing and bullshit he and mark went through just to get into kdr, they’re basically bonded for life. even if mark can really get on his nerves sometimes.
he’s tyler’s best friend, and really his only friend in the fraternity. in the whole university, actually.
some people might call it lonely, but tyler doesn’t think so. he prefers it that way.
he’d rather make a hundred surface-level friends that he only enjoys when he’s drunk than a dozen close ones who expect things from him all the time. mark knows him well enough to know what to expect and to not ask for any more or any less. tyler got lucky with him.
“die up!”
mike underhand tosses the die seven, maybe eight feet above the table. tyler watches, bent at the knee, as the die hits on their side of the table and bounces to the left. mark’s too slow, and the die slips past his hand, landing in the grass.
“shit,” he mutters.
“god dammit, mark,” tyler rolls his eyes and lifts his cup from the corner of the table. “you fucking suck at this.”
mark huffs, holding up his red solo cup for tyler to cheers before they both take a generous gulp. “shut up. you’re one to talk. you haven’t tinked once.”
he’s not wrong. tyler’s been drinking for long enough that his hand-eye coordination is suffering. his senses are dulled, and his vision is fuzzy like tv static, so he has yet to hit the table. but to be fair, they’re only two points into the nine-point game, and mike and brad are only up by three.
“this is my fourth game, dumbass,” tyler snaps. “i can’t see straight and i’m still doing better than you.”
“oh, that’s weird. i’m pretty sure our only points have come from me,” mark says, just enough mockery behind it to make tyler’s teeth clench.
before he can respond, brad cuts in. “come on, girls. throw the fucking dice.”
“i’m just warming up,” tyler says, trying to play it off like he hasn’t been trying. he has. that’s what pisses him off the most. “watch this. die up!”
without much thought or care, he tosses the die into the air. he watches with a blank expression as it immediately plummets back to the ground, missing the table by at least a foot. even mike and brad are too amused to bother trying to fifa it.
they snicker, but mark doesn’t hold back. sharp laughter rips from his chest. he doubles over, arms clutched over his stomach, eyes squeezed shut. he’s such an idiot. so fucking annoying.
“whatever,” tyler shrugs, like his skin is only flushed from the booze and not because he’s embarrassed. “that’s what i meant to do. shut the fuck up, mark. just throw your die already.”
it takes another half a minute for mark to get his laughter out. thankfully, when he settles down, he just takes a breath and throws his die. tyler had braced for more teasing, but somehow, mark always seems to know right before he pushes tyler too far.
not that he doesn’t still cross the line sometimes—he does—and then acts all confused when tyler snaps, like he forgot who exactly he’s friends with. he’s lucky mark doesn’t take anything personal. he’s calm, laid back. the exact opposite of tyler, who gets told at least once a day that he’s an asshole.
not that he gives a shit.
mark’s die bounces off brad’s cup and shoots to the ground.
“ha! you see that, tyler? two points for us, no thanks to you.”
“mark, i swear to god,” he warns. “you’re getting on my fucking nerves. do you want me to play or not?”
mark smiles like it’s funny. like tyler isn’t being dead serious. like tyler won’t quit right now and spend the rest of the night drinking alone in his room. they both know he will—he’s done it plenty of times before.
“fine, fine,” he holds his hands up in surrender. “what time is it? this’ll probably be the last game anyway. it’s gotta be close to ten.”
“die up!” brad yells, giving them only a couple seconds to look up before his die is in the air.
once again, the die bounces at mark, but this time he actually manages to catch it. he grins at tyler like he expects some sort of praise or something.
tyler just scoffs and shakes his head. “wow, finally managed to catch one.”
mike interrupts whatever mark is about to say.
“yeah, we gotta call it early. people are starting to show.”
tyler glances over his shoulder, sighing at the gaggle of drunk sorority girls making their way up the front sidewalk. they’re giggly and loud and all swaying together. they look ridiculous. probably sophomores, he guesses.
“fine,” tyler says, turning back to the table, “but we win.”
“no way, dude. we have one more point than you,” mike argues.
“you’re the ones forfeiting,” mark says, jumping to tyler’s aid.
“not by choice,” brad counters. “we gotta head inside.”
tyler downs the rest of his beer and crushes the empty plastic in his palm, wiping a stray dribble off his chin with the back of his hand. “okay, but we win.”
“whatever.”
good enough for tyler. he smiles, triumphant, and follows the others inside the house.
“hey,” brad says. he waits for tyler to look in his direction before asking, “is jenna coming?”
the house is already sweltering, even though the party technically hasn’t started yet. it’s stuffy and suffocating, unlike the cool, fresh air they’ve just left behind. he follows mark to the kitchen, brad trailing behind.
tyler shrugs. “fuck if i know.”
he grabs a new solo cup and holds it out for mark to fill from the keg. natty light’s never his first choice—he’s got a case of mich ultra in his room—but this beer is technically free. he’ll save his own for later.
“isn’t she your girlfriend?” brad asks.
tyler gives him a weird look. girlfriend?
“no. she’s not my fucking girlfriend. i barely even like her.”
he only realizes after he says it how much he sounds like an asshole, but it’s the truth. jenna might not be in a sorority, and she might be really pretty, and for some reason she likes tyler, but he does not like her.
not like that, at least.
in his own fucked up way, tyler does like her, but only as a person. she’s kind. considerate. she deals with his shit, even when he wishes she wouldn’t. no matter how much he tries to push her away, she always comes running back.
she’s just as annoying as every other female. she bothers him to no fucking end and is always all over him. he’s not into pda. he’s told her that countless times, but it never seems to get through her thick skull. she’s either brain dead or really just that stupid.
still, though, she seems to care about him, for reasons he can’t figure out. she’ll probably be the one he marries someday, even though his stomach churns everytime he thinks too hard about that.
“sorry, man,” brad says. “i just see you guys together all the time, so i assumed.”
tyler tries to brush it off, even though picturing jenna as his girlfriend makes him feel sick in the same way it does to imagine her as his wife.
“yeah, no. we just hook up.”
admittedly, tyler is curious whether she’ll show up tonight or not. just for his own sake of knowing if he’s expected to hook up with her later.
he sends her a text.
u coming tonight?
no surprise—her reply is instant.
nooo sorry :( i made other plans. see you tomorrow tho?
that’s another thing. she’s constantly apologizing for shit she doesn’t need to apologize for. it’s fucking annoying.
tyler doesn’t bother responding. he just tucks his phone in his back pocket and follows mark into the main room. there’s a lot more people than there were previously. lots of girls that send glances his way, eyeing him up like he’s some sort of trophy they want to claim.
keeping jenna around is mostly just a convenience thing for him. for one, she’s a deterrent for other girls. keeps all the crazies away. for two, he can’t imagine another girl would put up with his shit like she does. tyler can yell at her, blow her off, ignore her, treat her like complete shit. doesn’t matter, she just stays. for that reason, he guesses she’d make an okay wife one day.
her willingness to keep crawling back to him no matter what is perfect for tyler. the second he crosses the threshold from tipsy to drunk, he’s looking for any guy he can get his hands on.
he’s not gay. it’s just a thing that happens when he drinks.
he’s a whore, that’s all. it feels good, and he’s not above turning down things that make him feel good. he doesn’t even like guys when he’s sober, so he knows for a fact he isn’t gay.
honestly, he doesn’t really like hooking up with girls either. drunk or sober. he only does it because that’s what he’s supposed to do. everyone expects it, so he has to.
that’s another reason why it’s nice to have jenna around. she’s easy. he knows what to expect from her, and she doesn’t give him a hard time when he has whiskey dick so bad he can’t even get it up (which happens more often than not).
he doesn’t enjoy having sex with her—in fact, he tries to avoid it as much as possible—but he’d rather her than any other girl. the only time he really likes sex is when he’s drunk with another man, which is exactly why he defaults to it anytime jenna isn’t around.
like tonight, for example.
tyler’s already on the prowl, half-listening to mark as he searches the room for faces he doesn’t recognize. it’s quite the challenge when the house is mostly full of girls. almost every guy in here is affiliated with kdr, and tyler wouldn’t dare approach any of them. even if they were into it (which he seriously doubts anyone would be), word would definitely get out. he’d kill himself if that ever happened.
he’s about to give up when he suddenly spots a head full of blue hair in the crowd—definitely not a brother.
in the dim, purple-tinted light, he can just make out the side profile of the guy’s face. he’s got a hooked nose and a strong jawline. not that tyler has a preference or finds it attractive or anything, but if he’s going to hook up with a guy, they have to at least be objectively good-looking. he still has standards.
and anyway, blue is his favorite color, so that’s probably the reason why he feels so drawn to this guy. he likes his hair.
he might as well tell him and see where it goes from there.
Chapter 2: the small talk to sex pipeline
Summary:
josh pushes all of tyler's buttons.
tyler tells himself he doesn't care.
Notes:
bear with me guys idk why it's so hard for me to write inebriated characters but i tried my best
and it's been a while since i've written smut so i'm a little out of practice but whatever i'll shut up now
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
the blue-haired guy doesn’t notice tyler when he approaches. he’s busy singing mr. brightside with a group of girls tyler doesn’t recognize, headbanging like it’s some hardcore metal music. he’s such a fucking loser, tyler almost second-guesses himself. almost.
up close like this, he notices the red plugs in his ears, the silver hoop adorning his nose, and the slight stubble lining his defined jaw. one of his arms is covered in a colorful sleeve. it looks a little funky under the purple lights, but tyler’s in awe of how the ink seems painted on with a brush instead of pricked in with a needle.
the guy has an edge to him. he’s brave enough to express himself in ways tyler wouldn’t dare to. tyler tries his hardest to blend in—unlike this guy, who caught his eye from across the room.
so even though he’s clearly a loser, he’s hot, and there’s something about him that’s inviting tyler in.
tyler’s too drunk to even care about the why . his body’s warm, skin flushed, swaying back and forth even though his feet are planted firmly. he taps the guy on the shoulder.
he turns, still singing, a huge grin planted on his face. he must’ve been expecting tyler to be one of his friends, because when he sees him, the singing fades away and his brows furrow, though his grin doesn’t waver.
“hey,” the guy shouts over the music. “do i know you?”
his voice is smooth like butter, not scratchy and frayed like tyler’s. his hair’s wild, sticking up in every direction. a few sweaty strands cling to his forehead, but he doesn’t seem to care. tyler runs a hand through his own subconsciously.
“nah,” he says, glancing into the guy’s nearly-empty solo cup. “i’m tyler.”
“josh.”
tyler nods like he expected that. he didn’t. he thought it’d be something lame—not anything normal like josh . it’s as normal as his own, though tyler sounds a lot more boring than josh.
josh, josh, josh.
it suits him, actually. he does look like a josh.
“i like your hair, josh.”
josh lights up. “thanks, man,” he says. “i like yours too.”
“thanks,” tyler mumbles, running his fingers through his hair again. when he realizes josh is waiting for him to say something else, he adds, “blue’s my favorite color.”
“that’s sick.”
tyler nods. his skin burns. he chalks it up to the alcohol. couldn’t be nerves. he’s not supposed to feel nervous right now. otherwise, what’s alcohol good for?
this josh guy is even weirder than he thought. he can’t hold a conversation to save his life. he just stands there, sloppy grin in place, watching tyler like he’s supposed to say something else.
he’s just lucky he’s attractive, or else tyler would count his losses and spend the rest of the night clinging to mark like a parasite.
josh tilts his head back, tongue out, holding the cup over his mouth to catch the last few drops of jungle juice. tyler—unable to help himself—fixates on the curve of his adam’s apple, on the way his pink tongue rests against his even pinker lower lip. his brain’s lagging so bad he nearly forgets what he’s doing.
“need another?” he manages, nodding toward the empty cup.
“yeah,” josh says. he motions for tyler to lead the way. “after you.”
the house is way more packed now. there’s barely any room to breathe. they should’ve had the party in the basement, like tyler told everyone. but no. for some reason everyone else thought it was a brilliant idea to keep guests on the first-floor, even though the last few times ended horribly.
there’s no need to trash their house. that’s literally what the basement’s for—to hide the mess and lower the chances of shit getting broken. tyler already knows he’s going to be bitching at everyone tomorrow when they assess the damage.
he leads with his elbow, shoving through the crowd, pushing anyone who doesn’t move.
there’s more people here than they anticipated. wouldn’t be a big deal if they just had the party in the fucking basement. down there, people get hotter faster and decide to leave quicker. kdr’s basement parties are miserable, sweaty, and disgusting, but that’s how tyler likes it. that’s how it should be.
drinks are waiting in the kitchen—two kegs of natty light and a pair of jug coolers filled with a combination so toxic it probably shouldn’t even be considered jungle juice. josh makes a beeline for a cooler.
“you’re really drinking that shit?” tyler asks, cringing. he’s still got plenty of beer in his cup, but tops it off anyway.
“not a big beer guy,” josh shrugs.
tyler could’ve guessed. josh doesn’t seem like the type.
the kitchen’s way less crowded. people just slip in, fill up, and head right back to the party. there’s maybe ten other people max, all caught up in their own conversations. no one’s paying them any attention.
tyler, still trying to make something happen, resorts to ol’ reliable as he asks, “what’s your major?”
josh leans against the counter. tyler mirrors him.
“astronomy and astrophysics,” josh says.
that sounds about right. it’s… somehow hot, actually. annoyingly.
“dude,” tyler grins, “you’re a nerd.”
josh scoffs like he’s offended, but the curve of his lips gives him away.
“don’t hate. outer space is sick. what’s your major, anyway? business, or something?”
“oh, come on,” tyler laughs. he purposely leans in, grabbing josh’s arm for only a moment before he pulls away. “are you really stereotyping me right now?”
josh doesn’t say anything, but his eyes linger on the spot tyler touched.
“i guess i am,” he says, shaking his head with a grin. “it’s not business, then?”
“theater.”
a snort erupts from josh. he laughs for a second, but his smile fades upon realizing tyler isn’t joking. “you’re serious?”
“why’s that so funny?” tyler asks, swallowing the sharp words burning the back of his throat. “you got a problem?”
“no, no,” josh says quickly. “definitely not. i just... thought every frat guy did boring shit like business. didn’t know theater was an option. it’s cool, though. i like it.”
tyler nods, taking a long sip of his beer to give his anger a second to cool.
he can’t get a read on josh. it’s usually not this hard to tell if the guy he’s chasing is into him. he never wants to come on too strong in fear of exposing himself to someone who’ll run their mouth, but josh isn’t giving him much to work with.
“who’re you here with?” tyler asks.
“my friend,” josh says.
not girlfriend. not boyfriend. just friend. not many guys show up to frat parties together, so josh is probably here with a girl.
that’s a good sign, tyler thinks. not a girlfriend—just someone he ditched in the other room to have the most painful small talk known to man.
the intro to waka flocka’s no hands spills in from the other room, pulling josh’s attention away.
“actually, i should go find her. she’s probably looking for me.”
he pushes off the counter, just about to walk away before tyler acts on instinct.
“wait,” he says, snatching josh’s wrist.
that gets josh’s eyes back on him—warm, golden like honey, so disorienting tyler forgets how he’s ever managed to do this before. he racks his brain for one of his usual lines—something stupid, something flirty, anything —but comes up empty.
is he really that drunk?
“you wanna go to my room?” he asks. it’s the only thing his brain offers. get josh alone. get josh in his bed.
it’s bold, way less subtle than he usually is, but his brain’s failing him.
josh glances at tyler’s hold on him. tyler doesn’t let go, even though he’s starting to doubt this is going to end in his favor.
“why?” josh asks. he’s got a little smirk that tells tyler absolutely nothing. is he onto him? is he interested? is he plotting tyler’s downfall?
it’s hard to tell. tyler should probably give up, save himself the trouble, but he’s the sorest loser and isn’t about to let josh win without a fight.
“to smoke,” he answers.
it’s an invitation to be alone. nothing more, nothing less. josh can say yes, they can go smoke, maybe hook up, maybe not—depends how it goes. or he can say no, and tyler can beat himself up over it while still knowing he really didn’t give anything away.
“okay,” josh agrees. “after you, then.”
tyler huffs a soft sigh of relief, fighting to keep his cool and not look as stupid as josh does with that big grin stuck on his face. he finally lets go of josh’s wrist, motioning for him to follow into the crowd toward the stairs.
again, tyler elbows everyone in his way, teeth clenched to avoid snapping at the idiot girls with no sense of spatial awareness. the ones who should be downstairs in the goddamn basement, not up in here in his way.
that also means a lot more potential eyes on them, more people to witness josh following him upstairs. but if anyone’s ever noticed tyler taking a guy to his room before, they’ve never said anything. even if they did, tyler already knows what he’d say.
guy i knew from class. owed him, so i smoked him up.
it’s believable enough. why would anyone suspect otherwise?
the music from downstairs is muffled but still audible as tyler leads them down the hall to his room. he got lucky enough to be one of the few guys in the house with a single—most have doubles, or even triples.
though luck really had nothing to do with it. it’s more like he threw a fit and no one wanted to deal with it, so they just let him have it.
the hallway is empty. nobody to witness tyler pulling josh into his room and locking the door behind them. josh seems preoccupied taking in his surroundings, but his cheeks noticeably redden at the sound of the lock clicking shut. tyler makes a mental note of it.
he leads josh further into the narrow room, past the foot of his bed, around a pile of dirty laundry he can’t be bothered to feel embarrassed about. a loveseat is tucked between the far wall and tyler’s bed. he sits, josh hovers.
here in his room—less people, less noise—tyler realizes he’s not as wasted as he thought. probably just teetering the line between tipsy and drunk. he’s in that weird state where he knows what he’s doing, but he doesn’t care enough to stop himself.
between them and the wall opposite them is a cluttered table—wrinkled papers, empty cans of beer and redbull, stray lighters and various weed paraphernalia. tyler’s been meaning to add those redbull cans to the growing collection on his shelf.
josh’s cheeks are still flushed when he sits beside tyler, knees brushing. tyler shifts, spreading his legs wider so their thighs press together more deliberately, just to see if josh’ll move.
he doesn’t. just clears his throat and leans back, draping one arm along the top of the loveseat. it doesn’t come anywhere near tyler, who’s hunched over the table, rolling a joint, but the move isn’t lost on him.
josh isn’t pulling away. if anything, he’s inviting him in. testing the waters.
that’s what tyler’s brain tells him, anyway. he’s too full of himself to read it any other way.
smoking won’t clear his head—it’ll only blur it more—but that’s what he wants. to get so crossed his brain shuts down. so he can enjoy this, enjoy josh, without that voice in the back of his mind ruining everything.
when tyler leans back, joint between his lips and thumb flicking the lighter to life, he can feel the heat radiating off josh. it sets his own skin alight, warmth creeping up his neck with the realization of how close they really are.
it’s stupid. he hates that josh is making him feel out of control. that josh holds the power to say no, not the other way around.
he still doesn’t even know if josh is into guys.
not able to sit with that for another second, tyler takes a long drag, smoke clinging to the back of his throat and burning his chest. he lets out a few weak coughs, patting his chest like that’ll somehow loosen the resin he imagines is built up in his lungs.
“here,” he says, holding the joint out.
“oh,” josh hesitates. “um… i actually don’t… i don’t smoke.”
“you don’t?” tyler grins, giving him a once-over. should’ve figured. doesn’t like beer, doesn’t smoke… “dude, you’re a fucking loser.”
josh only offers a weak smile as tyler laughs.
“whatever. more for me.” he takes another hit, exhales slowly, then asks, “so why’d you say yes, then?”
josh looks guilty, like he’s been caught red-handed. he’s red in the face, eyes on his lap, solo cup clutched tight in one hand.
“i don’t know,” he says quietly.
oh .
okay. yeah. so this is happening.
tyler smirks, shifting to face him more fully. he curls one leg beneath himself, leans in without thinking. the weed’s hitting—everything feels loose, slow, like the room is spinning but his body’s still. it’s like he’s watching a dream unfold from somewhere outside himself.
he’s not in control of himself. it’s easier when he believes that.
“you don’t know?”
he leans in, fully confident now, placing his hand on josh’s thigh. his inhibition is nonexistent. consequences aren’t a thing. he wants josh. needs him. and he’s going to get him.
“maybe i had ulterior motives,” josh says. his eyes flick down to tyler’s hand, then to his drink, and he knocks back what’s left of it in one go.
his choice of words makes tyler laugh, the joint still burning between his fingers. he takes another hit. josh sets his cup on the table.
“maybe i did too,” tyler says, brushing his thumb slowly over the fabric of josh’s jeans, “when i asked you to.”
josh watches, entranced. the outline of his cock is mere centimeters from tyler’s thumb. he’s obviously hard, and the sight of him straining against the denim makes tyler’s own dick twitch.
“are we doing this?” josh asks, his hand sliding from the back of the loveseat to tyler’s shoulder, then slowly up to cup the back of his head.
“you want to?” tyler breathes. he grows dizzy with the way josh twirls a strand of hair at the crown of his head. he already knows the answer, and normally he doesn’t care enough to ask, but josh is playing with his hair like a puppeteer tugging all the right strings.
“mhm.”
good enough for him.
tyler tucks the joint between his lips, speaking around it. “come on,” he says, standing. he gestures to the bed. “lay down.”
as josh settles into the middle of the unmade bed, tyler flips on his neon ohio state sign and kills the overhead lights. the room glows a soft haze of red. he could already barely see, so this doesn’t help, but it does make it easier to ignore the truth of what’s happening.
the party downstairs is still going strong. music seeps through the floorboards, loud enough that tyler doesn’t bother turning on his own.
“take off your pants,” he says, crossing the room again to grab an ashtray and lighter.
he registers the faint hum of a zipper, some shuffling, a soft thud as josh’s jeans hit the floor. everything’s hazy. the dim lighting only deepens the dreamlike fog rolling over tyler’s mind.
as much as he knows he’ll deny it tomorrow, he still is very much aware of what's happening. even if it feels like he’s not himself right now. like he’s more of an actor than a real person. like he and josh are just playing out a meaningless scene in a movie, not two very real people who’ll be left with the memory of this.
he’s aware, but he doesn’t give a shit. not right now, at least.
he blindly searches the top drawer of his dresser, fumbling for a stray condom. his fingers close around the foil packaging, and he reaches back even farther, pulling out the small bottle of lube he keeps hidden in the furthest corner.
everything gets discarded on the bed, save for the joint still perched between his lips. tyler takes one last hit, then stubs it out in the ashtray, letting it rest in one of the notches. his shorts join josh’s jeans on the floor, leaving them both in their t-shirts and boxers.
josh—who’s been quiet this whole time—lets out a low moan as tyler climbs over him, straddling his hips, the underside of their clothed cocks brushing together. his fingers dig into tyler’s waist, tight and trembling, as he bucks up and grinds against him. it draws a sharp gasp from tyler.
“stop,” he hisses, pressing a firm palm to josh’s chest.
it’s almost embarrassing how much he’s leaking from just one thrust of josh’s hips. how damp the front of his boxers are. how josh rutting against him like a fucking animal sent such a sharp jolt through him he probably could’ve come without much more effort.
instead, tyler’s just annoyed, because even though he doesn’t want to drag this out, he’s not cumming until josh fucks him. only then is he allowed.
he blindly reaches behind for the bottle of lube, but josh has other plans.
in one fluid motion, he props himself up on one arm and wraps his other around tyler’s waist, pulling their bodies flush. tyler’s caught somewhere between irritated and impressed—annoyed that josh is trying to take control, but kind of admiring the guts it takes.
still, he’s not much of a kisser, and it’s obvious that’s where this is heading.
not that he hasn’t kissed any of the guys he’s hooked up with, because he has, but he tries to avoid it. makes it feel like more than what he wants it to be. girls are a different story. kissing them is easy—it never feels like it means anything.
“josh,” he says, lightheaded at the feeling of teeth nipping at his jaw.
“hm?”
“jus’ lemme ride you.”
josh pulls away, eyes searching tyler’s. after a beat, he nods. “yeah. yeah, okay. do you, uh-”
“yeah,” tyler cuts him off. he twists halfway around, grabs the condom and the lube, and presents them to josh, pushing him to lay back down with a hand to his chest.
josh takes the lube and pops it open. he’s about to squirt some onto his fingers, but tyler jumps in again.
“what’re you doing?”
josh looks confused. “prepping you?”
“no,” tyler says, shaking his head as he snatches the bottle from josh’s hands.
“no?”
“no,” he repeats, “i’ll do it myself.”
he always does. it’s just easier, he tells himself. quicker, better. he doesn’t actually know, though, since he’s never let anyone else do it for him.
“come on,” josh whines, hooking his index fingers beneath the waistband of tyler’s boxers. “quit being selfish.”
“selfish?” tyler scoffs.
he sets the lube aside to aid josh in removing his boxers, dick springing free, tip glossy with precum.
“how is that selfish?” he asks, swatting josh’s hand away when he reaches for his cock.
“because,” josh says, huffing in annoyance. “can’t do anything i want. can’t kiss you, can’t prep you, and now you won’t let me touch you.”
tyler hates how much sense that makes. he hasn’t thought about it that way before. but to be fair, nobody’s ever complained as much as josh is.
tyler might be a lot of things, and selfish in a lot of ways, but selfish in bed isn’t about to be one of them.
“fine,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes. he tosses the lube on josh’s chest, ignoring the stupid, smug grin on his face. “but i’m not kissing you. you’re not my girlfriend.”
“well no shit,” josh says. he lifts his hips, helping tyler as he shimmies off his boxers, adding them to the pile on the floor. “i’m not a girl.”
something hot pricks at tyler’s chest with the reminder.
his eyes are drawn to josh’s cock—long, girthy, slightly daunting. a pearl of precum glistens at his slit, not nearly as much of a mess as tyler, though just as hard.
i’m not a girl.
no, clearly not. tyler’s dick wouldn’t be throbbing this hard if he was.
but josh being a guy has nothing to do with it. it’s just that he can give tyler what girls can’t.
yeah. that’s all.
fuck. maybe he’s not as crossed as he told himself he was.
“shut up,” he mutters. he returns to his spot straddling josh, too horny to put it off any longer. “just come on.”
as josh busies himself with the lube, tyler slides the ashtray closer from where it was discarded at the end of the bed, clutching the lighter in his palm. it’s something to hold onto other than josh, who grabs tyler by the shoulder and pulls him down against him, sandwiching their cocks between their stomachs.
their shirts are bunched up between them, but tyler feels slightly at ease with the thin barrier. it’s already more intimate than he wants, but at least it’s a reminder that this means nothing. josh is just another body—nothing more, nothing less.
“y’ready?” josh asks, one hand resting on tyler’s side.
tyler doesn’t prefer it, but he has nowhere to rest his head other than beside josh’s. same pillow and everything. he keeps his face buried in it, hoping josh doesn’t hear the way his breath hitches as he circles tyler’s hole with his index finger, cold with lube.
“mhm,” he hums, eyes squeezed shut.
maybe if he tries hard enough, he can just pretend like josh’s fingers are his own.
josh eases in slowly. it’s enough to make tyler’s toes curl. he holds in a moan, teeth sinking into his lower lip, fighting against every instinct telling him to rock back against josh’s fingers.
“s’okay?” josh asks, a low murmur sweet like sugar against tyler’s ear.
it sends tingles down his spine, making him shudder softly as josh carefully works him open to the base of his knuckle.
“sh-shut up,” tyler chokes out. “just shut up.”
josh huffs a quiet chuckle, sliding his other hand beneath tyler’s shirt to rest against his bare ribs. he pulls out slowly, drawing a shaky breath from tyler, only to ease back in with a second finger this time, stretching him further.
against tyler’s wishes, the sudden addition makes him moan, and his free hand finds the collar of josh’s shirt, clutching tight.
“better than okay?” josh hums, lips brushing against tyler’s cheek.
tyler’s skin burns.
it’s definitely better than just okay. it feels fucking amazing. better than it ever feels when it’s just himself. there’s no pretending it’s not josh’s thick fingers inside him right now, curling and twisting and stretching him open.
he hates how much he likes it. doesn’t want to get used to it.
“shut the fuck up,” tyler replies, though it’s hard to get any bite behind it when he can barely catch his breath.
“yeah,” josh says, and tyler can practically hear the grin in his voice. “it feels good, right?”
tyler can’t take it anymore. josh is driving him crazy—stretching him open, talking like that, somehow gentle and in control all at once. like he’s doing tyler a favor rather than the other way around.
it’s all too much. he’s not crossed enough for this. he needs to smoke more.
he lifts himself and clamps a hand over josh’s mouth, nudging josh’s arm for him to stop. the loss of his fingers almost makes tyler whine, but he feels better like this—in control. it feels safer. it’s what he’s used to.
“god, you’re so annoying,” he mutters. “don’t you know what shut up means?”
josh smiles against his palm, like it’s funny. tyler rolls his eyes, only uncovering josh’s mouth so he can tear open the condom.
“what, so you didn’t like it?” josh asks, eyed hooded as he watches tyler roll the latex over his length.
tyler’s so in disbelief he can only laugh. josh must get off on pushing his buttons, or something. he’s never met anyone so annoying during sex. well—jenna—but that’s an entirely different kind of annoying. it’s not this, where josh seems to know exactly how to get him all flustered.
he doesn’t respond, just squeezes some lube over josh’s cock and smooths it over sloppily. as he hovers over josh’s waist, reaching around to line himself up with josh’s cock, josh’s hands settle on his thighs.
“no response is a response, you know,” josh says.
tyler debates hitting him.
“you wanna do this or not?” he retorts, pausing as josh’s tip presses against his hole.
josh smiles, but doesn’t respond.
asshole.
even as tyler rolls his eyes, he can’t fight the grin that makes its way to his face.
for as much trouble as he is, he’s gotta give it to josh. he’s witty. he’s sorta funny. definitely a lot more interesting than tyler thought initially, though he’s just as big of a fucking loser.
tyler sinks down slowly, wincing a bit as josh’s cock stretches him open. he’s not nearly prepped enough, but he only has himself to blame for cutting josh short.
josh stays still, letting tyler go at his pace, fingers splayed across his thighs.
once josh is buried to the hilt, tyler exhales shakily, eyes darting anywhere but josh—who won’t stop fucking watching him.
he reaches for the ashtray, picking up the joint from its resting place, needing something to dull how he feels. he grabs the lighter from where he tossed it, going nearly cross-eyed trying to relight the end.
the moment it’s lit, tyler inhales deeply, holding it in his lungs until he’s lightheaded. he blows out the thin cloud of smoke like a sigh of relief, even though he knows he’s just placeboing himself into thinking he feels any different.
“good?” josh asks.
tyler’s not sure what exactly he means, but he nods, one hand holding himself up against josh’s chest while the other pinches the joint. “mhm.”
he moves slowly, getting a feel for josh, trying not to think too hard about how he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more full.
tyler lifts his hips until just the head of josh’s cock remains inside, then sinks back down entirely, drawing moans from both of them.
it feels amazing. josh feels amazing.
even better—tyler’s finally got him to shut up.
he’s quick to set a rhythm, bouncing on josh’s cock at a steady pace. his head’s thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, not daring to check whether josh is focused on him or not. he feels like he already knows the answer, anyway.
josh has a firm grip on his hips, thumbs digging slightly into bone. he lets tyler do all the work for a while. tyler hits the joint here and there, and only then does he dare to peek.
it must be the lighting or the weed or something, because josh looks godly. his brows are scrunched, lips pursed in the shape of an ‘o’. he’s moaning and muttering shit under his breath. whatever he’s saying, tyler doesn’t want to know. he tunes it out like static.
tyler’s not sure how long he rides josh, nor how much of the joint he smokes, but those things seem insignificant compared to how good josh feels inside him. he’s so warm, and so big, and his cock’s reaching all the right spots.
when the roach starts to burn his fingers, tyler has no choice but to stub it out again. the room smells like sweat and weed and josh.
his thighs are burning, and he’s growing tired. josh isn’t having it though, and starts bucking up in time with tyler’s rhythm.
“josh.” he tries to say it like a warning, but it comes out more like a moan.
“say my name again.”
“go f-” he means to tell josh to fuck himself, but then josh grabs his hips and slams into him—fast, desperate, relentless. “-fuck, josh!”
“yeah, like that.”
“i-” tyler cuts himself off with a sharp moan, his cock bouncing between them as josh continues pounding him. “oh my god.”
tyler takes himself in his palm, fingers curling around his length, lazily stroking himself. he doubts it feels half as good as if he were to let josh do it, but he’s not that gone. he already let josh finger him, and that’s bad enough.
“that’s it,” josh pants.
tyler doesn’t know how he can even find words right now. he wants to tell him to shut the hell up, but he can’t get anything out other than embarrassingly high-pitched moans and breathy whines.
“come on, tyler,” josh says, nearly making him see stars. “come on.”
“sh- i- fuck.”
tyler doubles over—one hand beside josh’s head to hold himself up, the other still stroking his dick.
the weed’s caught up to him now, sharpening everything into pure, overwhelming bliss. all he can think about is how fucking good josh feels—there’s no room left for fear, or guilt, or anything else.
“josh,” he moans, against his better judgement. “joshjoshjosh.”
“yeah?” josh urges. “you gonna cum?”
he’s slamming so deep inside tyler, he can feel it all the way in his stomach. there’s no better feeling in the world, he decides. he never wants it to end. maybe if he holds off long enough, he won’t have to deal with the comedown after.
but, unfortunately, josh’s assumption is correct. a white heat licks at the base of his spine and spreads into the pit of his stomach, down to the tips of his toes.
he can only manage a weak, “mhm,” desperately holding back as he strokes his cock more clumsy now.
“me too,” josh breathes, thrusts growing sloppy. “come on, tyler.”
it’s stupid, but that’s all tyler needs to put him over the edge. he cums with a broken moan, eyes screwed shut, the arm that holds himself up shaking so bad he almost collapses.
josh thrusts into him a few more times, burying himself completely as he cums, his cock pulsing inside tyler.
they stay like that for a few seconds—breathless, panting, trying to recover. tyler’s at the level of crossed now that he wished he was earlier. can barely pull himself together enough to lift off josh’s cock. barely even registers what’s happening.
everything’s fuzzy. the room’s spinning. he feels kinda like he just died, went to heaven, and then was sent back.
he forgets josh is even there for a second, too caught up in the euphoria rushing through him. the only reason he remembers is because he faintly registers a, “you okay?”
the sound draws his attention, eyes lagging as he glances over his shoulder at josh, blinking slowly.
oh, right. he has to get rid of him now.
tyler goes through the same motions as always. he takes the used condom from josh, throws it away, grabs a towel from his pile of laundry. he cleans himself first, gives it to josh, then tosses him his clothes.
it’s a routine he’s well familiar with—trying to be left alone as quick as possible so he can drift off and not acknowledge the things he’ll inevitably worry about tomorrow.
josh hands him back the towel. tyler throws it into the pile.
josh starts putting his clothes back on. tyler puts on a new pair of boxers.
josh asks if he’s okay again. tyler pretends not to hear him.
“you gonna tell anyone?” tyler asks.
his voice sounds like it’s underwater. he’s not sure when their roles reversed, but now he’s the one laying in the middle of the bed and josh is sitting at the end of it.
“should i?”
josh doesn’t sound happy. tyler tells himself he doesn’t care.
“my parents can bail me out of jail,” he says, “can yours afford surgery for a broken jaw?”
it’s a lame threat, but all that matters is it works. it always does.
he thinks josh sighs. still, he doesn’t care.
“got it. i won’t tell.”
tyler nods, curling into bed, eyes falling shut. he thinks that’s the end of it, that josh’ll get the hint and leave, but he doesn’t hear the door.
he glances over his shoulder, finding him still sitting at the foot of the bed.
“you can go now.”
and josh leaves without another word.
Chapter 3: displacement is a hell of a defense mechanism
Summary:
josh is a parasite.
tyler can't catch a break.
Notes:
almost 1k hits already is wild. i can't thank you guys enough :')
i'm so invested in this story and these characters, and i can't wait for you all to watch everything unfold <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
there’s something wrong with tyler.
it’s not unusual for him to spiral for hours on end the day after hooking up with a guy—to be overcome with guilt, telling himself never again. in fact, it happens every time. it’s normal.
what isn’t normal is to still be thinking about it two days later. three days later. four.
he hasn’t even seen josh since that night. doesn’t have his number. wouldn’t want it anyway. so why the hell is he still thinking about him?
sure, he’s so different from anyone tyler’s hooked up with before, but so what? everyone is different in their own way. so why is josh’s different so stuck in his fucking brain?
it has to be because he let josh finger him, like an idiot. he knew he was going to regret it, but josh just had to accuse him of being selfish mid-hookup, and tyler’s ego is too big to have let josh think he was right.
yeah. it’s not josh that’s been making his head spin—it’s just the sex. it has nothing to do with the who and everything to do with the what.
admittedly, it was the best sex tyler’s ever had.
it’s a double-edged sword, though, because it also means tyler is burdened with twice as much guilt as normal. if he could just fucking forget about it—move on, stop ruminating when he’s alone in bed late at night—then he wouldn’t feel as broken as he currently does.
not his fault, of course. it’s all josh’s.
he’s a fucking parasite.
tyler hopes he never sees him again.
it should be easy on a campus as large as ohio state’s. tyler rarely ever runs into his past hookups. granted, he only ever really goes to class and then back home, but still.
for whatever reason, he agreed earlier in the day to grab lunch with mark. he didn’t realize that would mean going to union market—one of the dining options on campus—instead of going to taco bell, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. they’re already seated.
“you been busy this week or something?” mark asks between bites of his sandwich.
“why?”
“you’ve been ignoring my texts. and you’ve barely left your room.”
tyler rolls his eyes at that. he hates when mark does shit like this, when he pries into things that have nothing to do with him. it’s not him being a good friend, it’s just him being annoying.
so what if tyler isolates sometimes? he’d rather that than deal with anyone who’ll make his mental state worse. that’s being a good friend. mark should be appreciative, not pushy.
“yeah,” tyler says, stabbing at his sad little container of pasta. he wishes it was a cheesy gordita crunch. he wishes he was literally anywhere else. “just busy with homework.”
he shrugs like it should be obvious, like homework has ever meant shit to him.
what the hell else is he supposed to say? no way in hell he’d tell mark the truth.
i’m just lost in my head about some stupid fucking idiot with blue hair who fucked me so good the other night. oh yeah, it was a dude. but i’m not gay. obviously.
no. he’d rather chew glass.
mark gives him a look that says he doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t push any further.
“too busy to go out tomorrow?”
tyler scoffs. “and miss out on thirsty thursday? definitely not.”
“of course not,” mark teases, shit-eating grin on his face. “tyler joseph turning down an excuse to drink? unheard of.”
“shut the fuck up,” tyler mutters, no bite behind it.
mark laughs. tyler flips him off.
“you must’ve had a good time saturday night, though.”
saturday? what about saturday? saturday, like, josh saturday?
what the fuck does mark know about saturday night? did he see him take josh to his room? oh god. did anyone else?
tyler swallows thickly, trying to play it cool. “what do you mean?”
“i heard you getting laid,” mark says, smug smirk on his dumb face.
tyler feels his heart stop. he’s fucked. he’s so fucked.
then, mark continues, “who was it? she was so loud. i could hear her from my room.”
relief washes over, easing the tension in tyler’s muscles. he lets out a breath, even though he hasn’t fully processed the implication of mark’s statement.
he thought tyler was with a girl. thought tyler was the girl.
what the fuck? does he really sound like a girl?
no, surely not. mark was drunk. he was hearing them through two sets of doors. there was loud music downstairs, too.
still, tyler’s face gets hot. he wants to snap, to defend himself, but there’s nothing he could say that wouldn’t give himself away. mark thinking he moans like a girl is almost as mortifying as it would be to explain why he was moaning like that.
fucking josh.
tyler should’ve just given up in those first thirty seconds when josh couldn’t make small talk to save his life. he’s never giving another weirdo loser a chance again.
mark’s still waiting for a response. tyler clears his throat. “oh, uh… i have no idea. don’t remember. don’t know if she even told me her name.”
mark gives him that look again. tyler hates how easily he can see right through.
“right,” he deadpans. his mouth opens and tyler faintly registers sound falling from it, but a flash of blue to his left directs his attention elsewhere.
it’s josh, of course. because god forbid tyler gets any fucking peace.
he’s walking away from tyler to a table behind mark. probably didn’t even see him. he joins another guy and a girl with auburn hair. tyler doesn’t recognize either of them, but they must be josh’s friends.
the guy and girl are both sat eating, but josh stays standing. he grabs a backpack strung across the back of an empty chair, looking like he’s about to leave. he must’ve already finished his lunch.
whatever mark says is completely lost on tyler. he can’t pull his attention away from josh who, annoyingly, looks just as good sober as he did under the influence. it’d be a lot easier to stop thinking about him if he turned out ugly.
the girl says something and josh laughs—loud and radiant, head thrown back, jagged teeth on display. the same teeth that grazed over tyler’s jaw just days prior. not perfect, but compare them to tyler’s and they would be.
tyler can’t explain it, but he’s relieved to see him and anxious at the same time. well, the anxiety makes sense. nobody ever wants to see their one night stand out in the wild. especially not tyler. not when it forces him to confront the ugliest part of himself. the relief, on the other hand, that is bizarre. maybe it’s just because josh exudes as much warmth now as he did that night. yeah. that’s what tyler’s going to tell himself, anyway.
josh slides his arms through the straps of his bag. he says something tyler can’t hear, but the other guy nods in response, and then josh starts to walk away.
mark has been quietly eating his sandwich. it shocks them both when tyler stands abruptly, almost knocking his chair over behind him.
“i have to go,” he says, throwing his backpack over one shoulder. “i forgot. i, uh… i have a thing. can you take care of this for me?”
he points at his half-eaten lunch. mark blinks at him, stunned.
“uh, yeah. sure.”
“thanks, man.”
he barely catches the, “see you later,” mark throws out before he speed-walks away, nearly tripping over himself in the process.
he follows josh out of the union and onto college road, but it isn’t until he steps foot outside the building and the late september sun blares overhead that he really begins to process what he’s doing.
he’s acting like a god damn stalker, and for what? he has no desire to speak with josh. doesn’t know what he’d even say to him. for days, he’s been telling himself he never even wants to see him again, yet here he is, following fifteen, maybe twenty feet behind him. like a fucking freak.
as they head towards the oval, tyler pulls out his phone to make it seem like he’s doing something other than staring at the head of blue. that way, if he happened to turn around and see him, it would look more like a coincidence and less like he’s a predator.
he certainly feels like one. still, he keeps going. it’s wrong, and it’s weird, but his feet don’t care. they keep carrying him forward.
there’s no justification for what the hell he’s doing. one of the nerves in his brain must’ve come loose or something. he was right—he really is broken. josh has broken him.
tyler hates him. he wants nothing to do with him.
and still he follows.
like a fool. like he’s lost his goddamn mind.
why can’t he just stop?
he’s just... stuck.
no. not stuck. pulled. like gravity.
he hates it.
fuck. what is wrong with him?
he has to confront josh, or something. he should pick a fight so josh’ll lash out and shatter whatever pieces tyler’s unable to let go of. destroy josh and their chances of having an interaction like saturday night ever again, lest josh destroy him first.
tyler follows him across the oval, down the center towards thompson library. he’s scrolling through instagram, head tilted down like he’s paying attention to his screen but really he’s boring a hole through the back of josh’s head.
he has to do something. talking to josh might finally beat it through his stupid fucking brain—josh isn’t special. just some guy. he’s not important. he’s a boring, uninteresting, loser. tyler doesn’t need to keep fixating on him.
something’s holding him back, though. speaking face-to-face is almost as terrifying as saying nothing at all.
josh knew exactly how to get under his skin that night. he poked and prodded at all the tender bruises in tyler’s psyche.
josh...
astronomy and astrophysics major. doesn’t like beer, and doesn’t smoke weed. has sick blue hair, and an even cooler sleeve. a nerd, but he’s funny, and quick-witted. just cocky enough to even out the nice-guy persona.
so unlike anyone tyler’s ever met.
fuck.
he can’t take it anymore. josh is driving him mad.
josh climbs the stairs to the library and disappears through the front doors. of course it’s where he was heading. what is he, mr. perfect? mr. straight a’s? he’s so fucking boring that it’s painful. tyler’s losing it over the most average, normal, dull person on campus.
he stays at the bottom, squinting up after him. he could just leave, pretend he doesn’t care, but his feet betray him. he’s about to start his ascent to follow, to man the fuck up and confront josh, when he hears his name being called.
“tyler! hey!”
never a fucking moment of peace.
he stops in his tracks, filled with dread at the sound of jenna’s voice. she approaches cheerfully, blonde ponytail swinging wildly behind her. tyler wants to scream.
“i’m on my way to class,” she says, looking him up and down. “walk with me?”
“why would i do that?”
tyler barely pays her any attention. he’s busy searching every single window of the library, looking for blue hair.
“yeah, nevermind,” she says quietly. then, way too perky, “what’re you up to?”
“nothing now,” he mutters through gritted teeth.
was that josh on the second floor? no. just someone with a stupid hat.
“oh. were you busy?”
he should be. should’ve followed josh instead of letting her distract him. he almost had him—almost had a chance to rip it all apart before it could get worse.
he sighs loudly, giving up on his attempts. josh is long gone by now. fucking jenna. is she stupid? he was obviously in the middle of something. she just had to interrupt him.
“you mean before you decided to bother me?” he deadpans.
she frowns, lips tucked between her teeth, and nods. tyler isn’t purposely trying to upset her, but he doesn’t care that he is. she should just be glad he’s keeping his cool instead of lashing out like he wants to.
“yes, jenna. i was fucking busy. did you need something important, or did you just wanna get in my way?”
“sorry,” she murmurs, eyes on the ground. “i just wanted to say hi. you don’t have to be such a dick.”
tyler’s stomach twists with something close to guilt, but he’s too pissed off to back down. “yeah? and you don’t have to be so fucking clingy, but here we are.”
“clingy?” she gives a weak laugh. “i was just saying hi…”
tyler drags a palm down his face, his thin patience completely evaporating. “hi, jenna. you feel better now?”
“not really.”
tyler doesn’t either. he should. he got someone to direct his frustration towards, but it’s not enough. it isn’t the one fucking thing he wanted.
“remember that the next time you want to say hi to me.”
tyler quickly searches the windows again as a last-ditch effort, but still sees no sign of josh. jenna ruined his chances. he feels even more insane now than he did before.
he walks away without another word, leaving her standing there. it’s what’s best for both of them. she’s already infuriated him enough, and he’s said enough to get back at her for it.
not that it made him feel any better. he feels worse now.
something’s rotting inside him, and he’s the only one who can smell it.
Chapter 4: juicy peach ice geek bar pulse x
Summary:
tyler's mortal enemy makes him kiss a girl.
or something like that?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
tyler’s drunk again.
how else would he spend his thursday night?
midway isn’t his favorite bar, but they have $2 busch lights tonight. he’d rather drink mich ultra, but he can’t turn down beer that cheap. not to mention, midway is the bar of choice for most of kdr.
it’s always packed full of students, they have cheap specials, and it’s not too far from the house. they also take any fake id, which is perfect for tyler and his fuckass fake that says he’s from nevada. he plans on framing it after he turns 21 in a couple months.
a decent-sized group of brothers came out tonight, but tyler’s mostly been clinging to mark. mike and brad have joined them at the end of the bar, farthest from the door where it’s less packed. they’re on the lower level, where the walls are covered in a mix of colorful geometric shapes and black-and-white psychedelic patterns. upstairs houses the dj booth and looks more like a stage, but that’s not really the vibe tonight.
mark wants to go out on the patio and get fresh air, but tyler’s convinced him they need to stay put. he knows damn well it’ll be a pain in the ass to get another drink if they leave.
it’s busy for a thursday night, though nowhere near as bad as it gets on the weekends. still, the ground is sticky beneath tyler’s vans, pulling like velcro each time his feet shift beneath him. he’s all hot and sweaty, and the speakers are bumping so loud the bass rattles his skull. the smell of beer and liquor is pungent from where he stands beside the bar.
it’s good, though. it feels good. he likes it.
he loves the way his skin buzzes. how his stomach feels warm and fuzzy like the blanket he used to snuggle with when he was younger. that the music is so loud and the beer is so cold, and that both things are serving to drown out all the noise in his head.
he doesn’t even really like mike or brad. he wishes they would just leave him and mark alone. especially as their other friends, jake and evan, take it as an opportunity to join them.
tyler hates them. they’re his brothers, sure, but they’re the biggest pieces of shit he’s ever met. that really says something, coming from him. they’re arrogant, pretentious, annoying assholes. although they haven’t said it, tyler just knows they think they’re better than him. especially jake. he’s the worst of the two.
“hey, we’ve found where all the cool kids are,” jake says.
he throws his arm around tyler’s shoulders. the flicker of annoyance that ignites in his chest is dulled—yet another of the many benefits of alcohol. it makes everything more tolerable.
“congrats,” he replies, cracking open a fresh can. he has no idea how many he’s had. seven? eight? he’s lost count.
jake starts rambling about something, but tyler doesn’t care enough to listen. he shrugs jake’s arm off his shoulders, trying to appear interested in his story. it’s difficult when he’s preoccupied with scanning the room, but jake’s too drunk to notice anyway.
he’s not looking for anything in particular—just people watching, lazy grin planted on his face. lots of different clusters of people are scattered throughout the bar. it’s easy to distinguish one friend group from another.
could josh be here with his?
tyler stiffens, tightening his grip around his drink.
okay, what the fuck? what is wrong with him?
there’s a small part of him that wants to laugh at josh appearing in his intrusive thoughts, but he’s too freaked out to find it amusing.
the bar is full of plenty of other guys tyler could sneak off with, but here he is, still hung up on josh. he doesn’t even know why. josh isn’t cool, and he certainly isn’t anything worth tyler’s time. he’s a fucking loser. he wouldn’t be out on a thursday night.
that’s it.
tyler’s created this false image in his head of who josh could be. that’s what he’s obsessing over. not who josh actually is. he just needs proof that josh is nowhere near the person he’s hyped him up to be, that he’s just some painfully average nobody. that he’s nothing.
there’s no way josh is actually worth this much of his brain. he can’t be.
he just. needs. proof.
that’ll fix him.
unfortunately, it’ll have to wait for another day. there’s no sign of josh anywhere, and tyler knows deep down he’s not going to find him. not tonight, at least.
so, for now, he turns back to mark, satisfied to find jake’s now directing his story at brad.
“you have your vape?” he asks, nudging with his elbow to get mark’s attention.
mark laughs in his face. “not for you. hit your own.”
“it’s dead.”
that’s a big, fat lie, and mark knows it. tyler can tell from the look on his face.
“yeah, right. nice try.”
tyler rolls his eyes, fishing his juicy peach ice geek bar pulse x from his back pocket. it’s his go-to flavor, but he really just wanted to hit mark’s grape ice. he let him try it a few days ago, and tyler ended up liking it a lot more than he thought he would.
mark laughs at the sight of him hitting the definitely-not-dead vape. tyler scowls, even as white-hot ice soothes the back of his throat and nicotine floods his lungs. he purposely blows the smoke in mark’s face.
“you’re such an ass,” mark says through a grin.
tyler doesn’t get the chance to respond, because jake interrupts with a smack to the middle of his back.
“dude!” he says, “don’t look right now, but that girl is checking you out.”
tyler immediately follows his gaze across the bar, his eyes landing on a short, curly-haired brunette who’s definitely staring at him. she smiles and waves. tyler forces a tight-lipped smile and nods back.
“no she’s not,” he tells jake.
“she’s literally eye-fucking you right now, what the hell are you talking about?”
tyler sighs, lifting his beer to his lips to stall. realistically, there’s no way for him to get out of this. jake’s expecting him to go over there and talk to her, so he will. not because any part of him wants to, though. he’d rather stay right here.
fucking jake. damn him.
“are you gonna talk to her or what?” jake asks. “she’s hot as hell. if you don’t, i will.”
tyler’d prefer that, but he favors his ego too much to ever let jake think he got one over on him.
“calm down,” he mutters, “i’m going. you’re so fucking easy. this is why you get no pussy.”
jake scoffs, but tyler walks away before he can torture himself with whatever whiny ass response he has in store.
as he approaches, the girl whispers to her friends and they scurry away. it should probably make him feel good, or whatever, but he’s just relieved. the less annoying gossipy girls to deal with, the better.
she turns to him with a smile, cheeks tinted red. her tight curls fall to her shoulders, frizzy in the heat of the bar.
“hey,” she says. “i’m brooke.”
“tyler.”
she giggles like he’s made a joke. he debates asking her what’s so funny, but busies his mouth with his vape instead.
“you’re cute,” she says. and then, “can i hit that?”
“if you let me hit yours,” he bargains, hoping she’ll have something good.
she puts her hands on her hips, head tilting to the side. “what makes you think i have a vape?”
“do you?”
she blinks up at him through her lashes, one corner of her mouth tilted upwards. without breaking eye contact, she reaches down the front of her shirt and comes back out with some skinny-type vape tyler’s never seen before.
first of all, gross. where the hell was she keeping that thing? her bra? why not her pockets like a normal person?
second of all…
“what the hell is that thing?” tyler asks.
he realizes too late that his nose is scrunched in disgust. he’s not sure if it’s from the sight of the thing or the fact that it probably has her boob sweat all over it.
“an alto?” she phrases it like a question. like she thinks tyler is stupid or something. “a vuse alto? you’ve never seen one before?”
he shakes his head. “what flavor?”
she’s still holding it out for him. hesitantly, he swaps with her.
“menthol.”
not his favorite, but not the worst out there. just boring. suits her.
they hit the other’s vape simultaneously, and tyler tries not to think about the fact that he’s now inhaling the chick’s boob sweat. gross.
when they swap back after, she stuffs the poor thing back in her shirt.
“what year are you?” she asks.
“junior.”
“i’m a sophomore.”
he didn’t ask, doesn’t care, but okay.
“cool,” he says, busying himself with his drink to pretend like he doesn’t notice how she’s basically pressed herself flush against him at this point.
back where he left them, his brothers are watching. mark, brad, mike, evan, jake. all of them.
jake says something to them and only evan laughs. mark rolls his eyes, then gives tyler a big grin and a thumbs up.
tyler sends death threats with his eyes.
i hate all of you, he thinks, just in case they can read his mind. i hate you all so much.
he vaguely registers brooke asking, “wanna go dance?”
he’d rather eat a pile of hot shit on a plate. he doesn’t say that, of course. just turns back to her with a little grin and snakes his hand beneath her hair to cup the back of her neck.
“wanna makeout?” he asks.
not that he wants to do that either, but he needs to do something to get the guys off his back. he has a reputation to uphold here. tyler’s notoriously a player, which is hilarious considering he never fucking tries.
it’s a burden, in all honesty. sometimes he wishes they’d go for the meatheads like jake instead, though he can’t deny how good it feels to rub it in his face.
brooke giggles, her cheeks turning an even darker shade of red. she nods, and tyler leans down to kiss her, pulling her in halfway.
she tastes like vodka cranberry and menthol. it’s a weird combination. the arm not holding up her drink snakes around his waist, hand resting at the small of his back. tyler keeps his hand on the back of her neck, head void of anything other than they better be watching this.
he doesn’t feel anything as he kisses her. her lips are nothing more than just that—a pair of lips. it’s not even enough to make him want to get hard, let alone actually do the trick.
the kiss doesn’t last very long. tyler retreats on instinct when he feels her tongue glide over his bottom lip. it’s wet and slimy and gross.
when he pulls away, he does it fully, taking a step back and whipping out his vape to get rid of the taste in his mouth.
“you wanna go back to my dorm?” she asks.
he laughs in her face. “nah, i’m good.”
judging by the way her smile drops, she wasn’t expecting that response. in a matter of seconds, she flashes from confused, to upset, to angry. tyler feels a little bad because sure, he could’ve let her down easier, but as soon as she gets that crazy look in her eye, like she’s about to unleash some sort of beast, he turns on his heels and speeds back to the guys.
“what the hell was that?” evan asks.
“yeah, dude. she’s fucking hot. why didn’t you hit?” jake joins in.
shit. he forgot to think of an excuse.
“uhh, we- i-” tyler stammers. “i have a class with her.”
“so what?” brad laughs.
tyler tilts the bottom of his can to the ceiling, gulping down the rest of the beer. the one he literally just got. the few seconds it takes gives him enough time to think of a better reason.
he shrugs nonchalantly, setting the empty can on the sticky bar.
“didn’t feel like making things awkward every day we see each other. she’s not that great of a kisser. can’t imagine how horrible she’d be in bed. i’d spend the rest of my semester cringing every time i went to class.”
“ohhh.”
“valid.”
“makes sense.”
tyler nods, catching a glimpse of mark out of the corner of his eye. he has that look again, like he knows tyler is full of shit but is choosing not to call him out on it. he quickly averts his gaze, turning his attention to the bartender as she approaches.
he’d rather act like he didn’t see the way mark was looking at him.
ignorance is bliss.
Chapter 5: smashburger = hangover cure
Summary:
tyler's hungover.
he does his best to get rid of josh for good.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
the default iphone alarm is on tyler’s list of the top three worst sounds in the world.
he hasn’t given much thought as to what the other two would be, but his alarm is definitely up there.
especially on days like today, when he’s supposed to be up at ten in the morning to make it to his history of performance class. the thing is, he didn’t go to bed until five. he stayed at midway until closing time, then smoked with mark when they got back, and then was up playing video games until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.
not only is five hours of sleep nowhere enough, but the nausea that greets him when he opens his eyes is bad enough to make him turn off his alarm and go back to bed.
after that, he’s dead to the world for another three hours.
his theatre in eastern europe class starts just a few minutes after he wakes up again, but there’s no way he’s going. he’d have to rush to get ready and then walk fifteen minutes there. being late is more embarrassing than just not showing up at all.
besides, even though the nausea has worn off, he’s got a headache like a motherfucker and his stomach feels like it’s eating itself. his body’s screaming at him for depriving it of water. every one of his muscles is sore, like they’re all shriveled up and weak from lack of hydration.
tyler reaches beneath his pillow, retrieving his vape and taking a hit, every fiber in him craving it after having gone without for the last eight hours while he slept.
he groans as he sits up, dark blue sheets sliding off his bare chest and pooling around his waist. he rubs the sleep from his eyes before leaning over to grab one of the plastic bottles of water beside his bed. it’s only a quarter full. he chugs it down, tosses it aside, and grabs another. this one’s half full, but he downs it just as quickly. he has no idea how long either of those has been sitting there, but it’s just water—can’t go bad, right?
he wouldn’t even be able to tell if it was because all it tastes like is the stale beer lingering on his breath and the sweet juicy peach from his vape.
as he crawls out of bed—groaning the whole way—he tugs his phone free from the charger and texts mark.
you eat lunch yet?
while he waits for a response, he grabs a red bull from his mini fridge.
yeah an hour ago lol
in class now
tyler sighs, tossing his phone on his bed. he figured that, but it’s still annoying. he’ll just have to go to smashburger on his own. the eight minute walk down the street sounds torturous right now, but so does going another minute without food. a nice greasy burger and some smashfries could do him some good.
he changes into a pair of basketball shorts and an adidas t-shirt, taking sips of his red bull to give his stomach some sort of sustenance.
he trudges to the bathroom and brushes his teeth as quick as possible, staring himself down in the mirror. he looks about as dead as he feels. his hair’s sticking up every which way, and no matter how much he combs his fingers through it, it just won’t settle.
back in his room, he throws on an ohio state trucker cap and slides into a pair of vans.
on his way out the door, his phone vibrates with a text from jenna.
wyd tonight?
he audibly sighs, squinting as the late september sun pierces his eyes and travels to the base of his skull, only making it throb more. should’ve taken ibuprofen, but he doesn’t feel like turning around now, even though his head pounds with every step he takes.
while he debates what to say to her, he sips his red bull, cringing at the way it tastes mixed with the minty flavor from his toothpaste.
idk
it’s simple, and it’s the truth.
they don’t have a party tonight, so he’ll end up at some bar, but he doesn’t know which one or when.
do you wanna hang out?
he seriously considers not responding, but he still feels a bit bad for what he said to her when they ran into each other the other day. she didn’t really deserve it, even if it was all her fault.
you mean rn? i’m kinda busy
guilty as he feels, he still doesn’t want to see her right now. he wants to eat lunch in peace. if he had to sit and listen to her yap about nothing the whole time, he’d definitely snap at her again.
not rn lol
tonight i mean
tyler pauses outside the smashburger to take a hit of his vape before he goes inside.
it’s not too busy, but he didn’t expect it to be. most students have already eaten and are in class, just like he should be. he only has to wait for one person ahead of him.
“hey, tyler,” the girl behind the register greets.
he comes here so often most the workers know his name. he should probably know theirs too, but he doesn’t. that’s their own fault for never telling him.
“hey.”
“you want your usual?”
“yeah, thanks.”
she puts in the order and he pays, giving her a tight-lipped smile as he turns to go sit at his usual table in the back.
he takes about three steps before he sees him.
josh, sitting in his fucking spot, nose in his laptop.
his frizzy blue hair sticks up every which way—similar to how tyler’s looked this morning. he should’ve taken a page from tyler’s book and put a hat on.
his eyes lift from the screen and meet tyler’s.
he’s frozen like a deer in headlights, holding in a breath.
josh smiles, out of all the possible fucking reactions he could’ve had, and it makes tyler’s heart stop.
holy fuck. he’s going to die. he’s going to explode and die.
tyler quickly looks away. he keeps his head down to avoid josh’s gaze as he speed-walks to a booth along the wall opposite josh’s table, tucking himself away.
this is bad. this is so bad.
he wasn’t prepared to run into him like this. not here. not right now. his brain’s too foggy for full sentences, let alone conversation. josh only makes it worse.
tyler inhales slowly, hands trembling slightly as he lifts his red bull for a sip. he hates that he’s sat with his back to josh and can’t tell if he’s looking over at him or what, but what choice did he have? if he would’ve faced the other way, they would’ve just been awkwardly looking at each other the whole time.
he needs to calm down. he needs to remember what he’s been telling himself—josh is nothing. he’s just some fucking guy.
needing the distraction, he finally texts jenna back.
i’m going out tonight so no
thought you didn't know what you were doing
and i meant go out together
this is good. for once, he’s glad jenna’s so annoying. makes him feel a lot less bad about taking his energy out on her.
why would i want to do that
i’ll be with my brothers
it’s just been a while
ok and?
idk nvm
maybe i’ll see you out
yeah maybe
god, he hopes not. he already feels crazy enough as is. he doesn’t need jenna to remind him of how bad everything’s been getting for him lately.
a worker brings him his food. he forces a smile and thanks them, wasting no time to dig in.
as he eats, he scrolls through tiktok, trying to overload his brain with as much stimulation as possible so he has no room to wonder what josh is doing behind him. maybe he doesn’t even care about tyler. maybe he was just being polite.
he gets in a few bites, and is mid-swallowing a fry when josh slides into the booth across from him, setting his backpack on the table.
tyler coughs, nearly choking, downing his red bull to get the food down his throat.
“what the fuck?” he blurts out, eyes wide. “what are you doing? what do you want?”
“what?” josh chuckles, head tilting to the side. “i can’t sit with you?”
tyler’s actually speechless.
what the fuck does josh think he’s doing? was he really expecting tyler to be okay with this? they don’t know each other. if anyone sees them sitting together… it’s just weird. who does shit like this?
“do you need something?” tyler asks. he figures maybe josh accidentally left something in his room. surely he’s not just torturing him for no reason.
josh shrugs. “no.”
tyler blinks at him. josh just smiles innocently, like what he’s doing is perfectly normal behavior. like they’re two friends just catching up. like he can’t feel the anxiety pouring off tyler in heavy sheets.
“then no,” tyler says. “you can’t sit with me. leave me alone.”
it doesn’t come out as harsh as he intends, but it must hit a nerve anyway because josh is quiet for a second, his stare burning a hole through tyler.
finally, he says, “you look like shit.”
tyler scoffs. his mouth moves automatically. “speak for yourself.”
josh doesn’t seem offended in the slightest. if anything, he looks even more pleased now than he did before. tyler wants to smack that grin right off his face.
nothing about josh looks like shit, as much as he hates to admit it.
the sunshine streaming in through the windows lights his puppy brown eyes, shimmering like golden pools of honey. even his frizzy, limp curls that sit messy on his head look abnormally perfect.
god. why is tyler thinking like this?
josh is just a guy.
he’s just a guy. he’s just a guy.
“can you go away?” tyler grumbles, hanging his head in defeat. he picks at his fries, no longer hungry. “go back to whatever you were doing on your computer.”
“it was just homework,” josh says, “and i finished, anyway.”
finally, something tyler can work with.
“homework?” he barks out a laugh. “who the fuck comes to smashburger to do homework? you’re even more of a goddamn loser than i thought.”
he catches the sight of josh’s jaw clenching. finally, he’s got to him. maybe he’ll leave him alone now.
“what’s wrong with you?” josh asks, sounding more confused than anything. “why’re you being such a dick?”
he really has no idea who tyler is, does he? has he also created a false narrative for what kind of person tyler is—same as tyler has for him?
whatever mystique josh held previously has worn off now, like tyler knew it would if they got the chance to speak again. he’s not some magical other-being worthy of occupying any space in tyler’s brain.
he’s just. a guy.
and he’ll stay that way. tyler will make sure of it—make sure they never speak to each other again.
“we aren’t friends,” he says slowly, so josh really fucking understands what he’s saying. he leans across the table, pointing an accusing finger. “you don’t know me. i don’t know you. and i don’t want to.”
josh is stiff other than his chest rising and falling with short breaths. his throat bobs as he swallows, sucking on his teeth as he grabs his bag and slides out of the seat.
“got it,” he says.
tyler successfully got the grin off his face, but at what cost? he feels like he just kicked a puppy. his chest physically hurts at the look on josh’s face.
he leaves without another word, and tyler watches him go.
he knows he should be relieved, and he is a little, but he’s mostly just irritated.
the guilt sits like a boulder in his stomach. he hates it. there’s no reason why he should feel as bad as he does. it’s josh’s fault—he was asking for it. tyler wouldn’t have had to be so mean if josh would’ve just fucking listened the first time he told him to go away.
at least he’s gone now, and tyler doesn’t have to worry about him anymore.
right?
Chapter 6: cotton candy lipgloss
Summary:
tyler wishes being with jenna was easy.
it just reminds him how much is wrong with him.
Chapter Text
bullwinkles used to be one of the more popular nightclubs on campus, but tyler was never really a fan.
they watered down their alcohol, played shitty music, and he’d heard far too many stories of bartenders slipping roofies in people’s drinks. he was ecstatic when mark told him a few months ago that new owners bought the club and would be revamping it and naming it uno.
it’s their first time at the new place, and even though they’ve only been there twenty minutes, it’s not much of an improvement. the drinks are better, but the music is mid, and tyler’s already witnessed two fights break out.
thankfully, he showed up drunk enough to not really give a shit about any of that. he’s spent the last couple hours pregaming with mark and some of the other guys at the house, so he’s got a good buzz going.
all the flashing neon lights and overhead lasers make tyler’s head spin in the best way. the music—albeit not that great—is bumping, and he knows enough songs to be having a good time.
he feels light. carefree. his skin is thrumming with electricity, especially with the bass from the speakers rattling his bones.
there’s not much on his mind other than having a good time and getting as drunk as he possibly can before his stomach turns on him. he deserves it, honestly, with as much shit he’s had on his mind lately. it’s good to feel normal for a change. he feels a lot more like himself.
they started as a group of four—tyler, mark, brad, and mike—but the latter two have both fucked off, currently occupied with chatting up a couple of girls. tyler recognizes them from one of the sororities near their house. can’t remember their names, but knows they’re best friends. if he gave a fuck, he’d probably be jealous of brad and mike, but he doesn’t, so he’s not.
mark’s sticking with him for now, at least. even though this one blonde has been clearly eyeing him. tyler hates to think mark might be pitying him, or something. he doesn’t need pity. realistically, he could get any girl in here to go home with him if he really wanted to.
he just doesn’t want to.
he’s got a coors light in one hand and his vape in the other. he took a shower earlier so he was able to ditch the hat in favor of sporting his freshly styled (aka air-dried and unbrushed) hair. though still in the same vans and adidas shirt, he’s switched the basketball shorts for khaki pants.
simple, but who cares? he looks good and feels good.
maybe if mark goes off with this girl, he’ll even be able to find someone of his own to sneak off with.
he faintly registers the quick vibration of his phone in his pocket. it’s a text from jenna.
is that you i see at uno rn?
fuck. great. scrap that idea.
maybe
here we fucking go.
how did he do this to himself? how did he even manage to get himself in this weird, fucked up situationship thing with her when he doesn’t even like her?
yes, jenna is nice. she’s nicer than he ever deserves. she’s gorgeous too, with her bright blue eyes and light blonde hair. her face is chiseled and her body’s toned, and tyler knows objectively speaking that there’s no reason he shouldn’t be attracted to her.
he is attracted to her. at least, he thinks he is. if he’s gonna choose any girl to sleep with, it’s going to be her. but he’s not sure if that’s just because, in some fucked up way, jenna’s the only girl that even comes close to resembling a friend. she’s the only girl he feels comfortable with, even when he’s un comfortable. it doesn’t make sense, yet somehow it does.
the unfortunate thing is that he’s found her now while they’re still in college and not later when he’s ready to settle down. she’s annoying and gets on his nerves like no other being on this earth, but he has to make sure he treats her just good enough to keep her around. he can’t imagine having to start over with some other chick in the future. that sounds like hell.
he spots her in the crowd as she approaches, a big, toothy grin planted on her face.
“hey!” she greets enthusiastically, wrapping an arm around tyler to pull him into a sideways hug. “hi, mark.”
“hey,” mark speaks for both of them, giving tyler a small smirk that tyler rolls his eyes at. “nice to see you, jenna.”
“you too!”
he’s gonna leave tyler alone with her. he just knows it.
tyler tries to give him a look that says don’t you fucking dare , but mark doesn’t pay him any attention. his focus has shifted to the girl that’s been subtly flirting with him since they arrived.
“i think i know her,” he says, turning back to them. “i’m gonna go say hi.”
“okay,” jenna says.
tyler just glares at him, and mark walks away.
“so,” jenna says, taking a sip of her drink. it’s clear—probably vodka soda, if tyler had to guess. “whaddya think of uno? you like it better than bulls?”
tyler shrugs, taking a hit of his vape. jenna holds out her hand and he reluctantly hands it over.
“it’s alright. guess it’s not that bad.”
“i like it,” she says, pressing in closer, her front flush against tyler’s side so he has no choice but to put an arm around her. “i’m glad i ran into you. it’s been a while.”
tyler understands what she’s implying. it’s been a while since we’ve fucked. it’s been a while since you’ve made me feel like you actually want me around.
instead of responding, he takes a drink of his beer, letting his body sway as jenna moves him in rhythm to lazily dance with her.
he’s been avoiding her on purpose. being with her makes him remember how not normal he is, but how much he wishes he was. he wishes being with her was easy, but it’s just not.
“what’s up with that?” she presses, clearly feeling bold with the help of liquid courage. she’s a lot less docile when she’s been drinking. a lot more annoying. borderline insufferable.
“nothing.”
he soothes his hand over top of her hair, basically petting her like a dog. she likes when he does that for some reason. it’s weird, but he can’t complain because he knows he can use it against her to get her to move on.
tyler knows what makes jenna attractive, but he has no idea why she’s so into him. he’s nothing but rude and uninterested. then again, maybe that’s why she tries so hard. maybe she thinks he’s playing hard to get, especially when he’ll treat her to physical affection but nothing beyond that.
god, it’s infuriating.
he doesn’t know how he can hate someone so much but still want to keep them around. sometimes he wishes she’d move on to someone who actually deserves her, but that’d mean he loses out on his only chance at having a normal life one day. it’s like he hates her for staying, but would hate her if she ever left.
he keeps telling himself he wants her—needs her—because wanting a girl like jenna means he’s normal. it means he’s straight. but every time she touches him, it just makes him feel more like a liar.
he just can’t win.
the petting thing works, just not in the way he wants.
it shuts her up, but only because she takes it as an invitation to grab him by the back of the neck and kiss him.
whatever lipgloss she has on tastes sweet. it makes kissing her a little more bearable, because tyler’s too busy trying to decipher what flavor it is to worry about anything else.
he lets her lead, lets her take whatever she needs from him, half-dissociating and half-thinking about how good her lipgloss tastes. is it some candy flavor? cotton candy, maybe?
when her tongue slides into his mouth, it surprises him enough to jolt him out of his thoughts.
he really should get an award or something. even though her spit is gross, and he hates fucking her, and especially hates going down on her, he still does it. he’s just selfless like that. even though he never wants to do it, if he’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do it right. he’s gonna do it good.
so, with the hand not clutching his beer, he feels her up. not because he wants to, but because he knows he’s supposed to, and because she likes it.
her skin’s warm beneath her tight shirt, soft like velvet as he guides his hand up to her chest. he’s relieved she has a bra on—that’s not always the case—and gives her breast a soft squeeze.
“ty,” she gasps, pulling back just enough to speak against his lips. “let’s go back to kdr.”
shit. he flew too close to the sun.
he withdraws his hand and takes a step back, bumping into the person behind him.
“nah,” he shrugs, lips pursed. “i’m good.”
it’s not unusual for him to turn her down—he does a lot.
“come on,” she whines, throwing her head back. tyler drinks his beer to wash away the taste of her lipgloss as she says, “we’re a month into the semester and the most we’ve done is when i gave you head two weeks ago. we haven’t fucked since before the summer. you’re killing me here.”
“so? we’re not dating, go fuck someone else.”
she’s completely right, though. it’s unlike tyler to be this far into the semester without hooking up with her at least once by now. she’s just so annoying in bed, and he doesn’t want to put up with that tonight. he can’t even remember her giving him head a few weeks ago, but that’s probably for the best.
come to think of it… he hasn’t hooked up with anybody so far this semester.
nobody except josh.
josh.
fuck. that stupid fucking guy. what kind of curse has he put on tyler?
he waves his hand, trying to brush her off, but she stays. of course she does.
she puts a hand on her hip and pouts her lips like she thinks that’s going to make a difference. “don’t want anyone else.”
tyler drags his palm down his face. it’s times like these when he wishes he didn’t have her wrapped so tightly around his finger. he just wants her to leave him the fuck alone.
“why don’t you go fuck someone who actually gives a shit about you?”
jenna gasps softly, jaw dropping, brows furrowing. she takes a small step back.
oops. tyler really should think before he speaks.
“what the fuck is wrong with you? why’re you being such a dick?”
tyler has a moment of deja vu—back to earlier today, in smashburger, when josh asked him the same thing.
what is wrong with him?
fuck. it’s josh. it’s all josh’s fucking fault.
tyler’s life was better before he met him. he was a whole lot better at pretending like he likes jenna, it was easier to pretend like he was normal, and he spent a lot less time spiraling about all the things wrong with him.
he hates that he’s been thinking so much about how fucked up he is.
he’d let josh have it if he were here, but unfortunately for jenna, she’s all he’s got at the moment.
“what’s wrong with me?” he asks, growing louder. “what’s wrong with you? you’re so fucking desperate, you’ll do anything to have sex with me. i told you i don’t give a fuck about you, so why are you still standing here?”
tears shimmer in her eyes. her mouth hangs open like she can’t believe what he’s saying. like it’s something she’s never heard before, which damn well isn’t true because tyler has snapped at her like this multiple times before.
“you don’t mean that,” she says, voice wobbly.
“i do. just like i’ve meant it the last fucking ten times i told you.” she barely gets another word in before he keeps going, “you want to talk about what’s wrong with me? fuck you, jenna. you’re more fucked up than i am—chasing after somebody who doesn’t want you. who treats you like this. if you respected yourself at all, you would’ve already walked away by now.”
she’s crying, but he doesn’t care. it’s easier not to.
it feels good to say it. he means it all, and he feels so much better now that it’s off his chest.
he wants to scream that it’s not her fault, that he’s just broken in a way she can’t fix.
he's only cruel because he's confused, and josh is the one who made him this way.
“fuck you,” she says, cheeks glistening with tear streaks. “you’re an asshole.”
tyler laughs. does she really think that’s gonna hurt his feelings? does she really think he cares?
“yet you’re still here,” he points out. “you know what? i’ll do us both a favor and be the one to walk away.”
he doesn’t care about staying here anyway. she’s already riled him up and ruined his night. stupid bitch.
at this point, he doesn’t care if she fucks off forever or not. in fact, he hopes she does. that’s one less person for him to have to worry about. one less thing he can stop feeling shitty for.
Notes:
i felt so bad for those last two paragraphs i sincerely apologize
fun fact: all these places i'm naming are real and bullwinkles really did get bought out by this new place called uno last year and i went down a rabbit role reading reviews and looking at pictures and it sidetracked me for a good 45 minutes
anywayz i love you guys so much thank you for all your support :') i always love reading your comments <3
Chapter 7: mistakes were made
Summary:
tyler drinks too much.
he gets josh's number.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
tyler’s felt like shit all day.
not because he’s hungover—he got lucky on that front—but because of jenna.
the texts started rolling in not too long after he woke up.
hey ty
can we talk?
i’m sorry for last night
he didn’t respond. how could he? what would he even say?
there’s no reason why she should feel sorry. she didn’t do anything wrong— he did. he’s not going to admit that to her, of course, but fuck. she’s always apologizing for things she has no right to be sorry for.
it’s annoying.
it makes tyler feel even worse.
she tried calling him later in the day. multiple times. he ignored them all.
more texts followed.
i’m really sorry
pls stop ignoring me i didn’t mean it
i hope you’re not mad at me
sorry
each one just dug the knife in further. he’s fucked up. he’s horrible, and she doesn’t deserve it, but he doesn’t know how to stop. he can’t. he doesn’t know why he can’t.
it’s been a few hours since her last text.
kdr is throwing a party—in the basement this time—and he’s worried she’ll show up. he can’t deal with that yet. he needs more time. more space. he can’t face her tonight.
for that reason, he’s been drinking for hours—long before the party was set to start. he’s already lost track of how many times he’s refilled his solo cup from the keg of natty light, but by the time people start showing up, the beer already tastes like water. goes down just as easily, too.
memories by david guetta is blaring from downstairs, loud enough that tyler can make out the beat through the tiles of the kitchen floor. he’s with mark and a couple other brothers, filling up their designated shot glasses.
tyler’s is dark purple and says white girl wasted in sparkly white letters. someone got it for him as a joke, but he thought it fit too perfectly to get rid of it. now, it’s the only one he uses.
mark pours someone’s unmarked bottle of titos they found in the freezer. finders, keepers. their fault for not labeling their shit.
tyler hates titos—drank a lifetime’s worth of it freshman year—but he’s not one to turn down free booze. especially not now, when the only thing he can think to do is drink more, and more, and more. hell, he’d drink anything you put in front of him right now—even pink whitney. it was the first thing he ever blacked out on and the smell alone is enough to make him gag.
he’s got one hand against the edge of the counter, relying on it to steady himself as he carefully drags his full-to-the-brim shot glass closer, careful not to spill a drop.
“ready?” he asks, eyelids heavy as he slowly turns towards the guys. he waits for them all to raise their shots, and copies them with a grin. “here’s to love, here’s to honor. if you can’t cum in her, cum on her.”
the cheers elicits a round of snickers, making his smile grow, and they tap the bottom of their shot glasses against the counter before tossing them back.
the taste makes him shudder, and he chases it with his vape, though it does little to soothe the burn in the back of his throat.
“fuck,” mark winces, shaking his head. “that never gets easier.”
“s’cause you’re washed,” tyler says, clapping his palm against the square of mark’s back. “y’gotta catch up t’me.”
“absolutely not,” mark snorts. he caps the titos and leaves it on the counter, along with their shot glasses. “i don’t want to be on your level. i’m surprised you’re even still upright.”
“m’not that drunk,” tyler argues, waving a hand. “shut up. m’goin’ back downstairs.”
tyler leaves him there, grumbling under his breath about how much of a buzzkill he is, letting his leaden feet take him. he only wants to go back to the party so he can refill his beer and listen to the music. nothing else matters. nobody else matters.
…until he spots that familiar blue hair.
josh!
josh is here.
he’s entering with a group of girls. tyler’s gotta talk to him. he’s gotta make sure josh knows there’s no hard feelings between them.
tyler can be the bigger person. it’s easy. josh is a cool guy. he’s a nice guy. looks nice too, in his nasa shirt and ripped jeans. they could be friends probably. right? yeah. why not?
“josh!”
his head snaps towards the sound of tyler’s voice. he looks confused, but only briefly. he turns and says something to one of the girls before he makes his way over, and all the girls head downstairs without him.
“hey man,” tyler greets, dapping him up and pulling him into a one-armed hug. “hoooly shit. s’good t’see ya here.”
“holy fuck,” josh laughs, pulling away. he looks tyler up and down. “you are sooo drunk.”
tyler’s all grins, shaking his head as he pokes josh in the chest. “nahhh, you’re so drunk.
josh swats his hand away. he’s smiling despite the furrow of his brow. “what happened to we’re not friends? ” he asks, putting air quotes around tyler’s words.
“pffft. s’fine. who cares?”
“you tell me.”
tyler doesn’t know what to say, so he just laughs. josh doesn’t.
“s’not a big deal,” tyler says. he’s not sure who he’s trying to convince. he already knows he’ll regret this tomorrow, but that’s a problem for tomorrow-tyler, not now-tyler.
now-tyler just wants to hang out with the guy he can’t get off his mind. maybe even fuck him again too.
…definitely fuck him again too.
“y’wanna go downstairs?” he asks, showing josh his empty cup. “need another. y’wanna drink?”
josh opens his mouth to respond, but tyler cuts him off with a gasp.
“pong! y’wanna play beer pong? let’s play.”
“jesus,” josh snickers. “yeah, sure. if you can even stay on your feet long enough.”
“m’ fine,” tyler urges, pushing off the wall to stand upright. “y’gonna be my partner, right?”
“you want me to be?”
they stare at each other for a moment, josh smirking and tyler trying to look annoyed instead of infatuated. his heart-eyes have a mind of their own sometimes.
of course he wants josh to be his partner. any excuse to stand as close to him as possible.
“mmm, i dunno. y’any good?”
not like he cares. for once, he couldn’t care less if they win or lose, but he’s got to keep cool. stay uninterested. act nonchalant.
josh’s smirk stays firm. tyler knows what he’s going to say before he says it.
“i was good enough for you last weekend, wasn’t i?”
tyler goes red, his skin immediately burning at josh’s words. “shut up,” he mutters, half-heartedly shoving his shoulder. he tries to sound mad, but his smile gives him away. “s’not what i meant, idiot.”
josh laughs, mimicking tyler and pushing his shoulder. “does it matter if i’m good? do you wanna play or not?”
so he’s not good. noted.
honestly, that’s just a win for tyler. even more reason for him to drink too much.
“yeah. c’mon.”
he leads josh downstairs, focusing all his energy into watching where he places his feet so he doesn’t trip.
“this your first time in the basement?”
“nah,” josh says. “i came a few times last year.”
tyler hums, met with a wave of heat as he swings open the door at the bottom of the stairs, sweat already collecting at his hairline. he considers the possibility that he might’ve crossed paths with josh at some point in the past, but for some reason it makes his stomach ache, so he doesn’t dwell on it.
“so,” he yells over the music, “y’know your way around?”
josh nods, both of them pressed up against the wall of the hallway, shrinking out of the way of a group of girls who run past them laughing.
“a’ight, m’gonna go knock on table ‘n see if we can get on next. y’wanna go grab a drink?” again, josh nods. tyler grins, thrusting his empty cup against his chest. “one for me?”
josh clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, but his smile never wavers. he takes tyler’s cup and walks down the hall towards the room they call “the rock room.”
it’s a long room that houses the dj booth, space to dance, and the counter with the drinks. the walls—like the name suggests—are made of rocks, though much of the surface is covered in various street signs brothers have stolen over the years. a fan favorite is the working subway sign that one of the brothers in tyler’s pledge class managed to get their hands on.
tyler heads the other way, into the back room where they keep the tables. the main area has two regular rectangular tables and one in the shape of a hexagon. they use the latter for three simultaneous games of beer pong. off to the side, further back, there’s a few wooden booths for people to sit at. this area’s a lot calmer, usually. mostly just people playing or waiting to play beer pong.
every side of the hexagon is currently occupied, along with both regular tables, though one of the games is close to finishing. tyler knocks on the table, calling dibs on the next game.
“m’next.”
“i already knocked,” one of the new guys says.
tyler glares at him. “don’t give a shit, pledge.”
the guy rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue. it wouldn’t mean much if he tried.
tyler leans against the wall, feeling the cool cement through his shirt, although it pales in comparison to the stuffy, sweaty room. further back past the booths, there’s a short hallway that circles back to the dj booth in the rock room. it’s from there that josh emerges, red solo cups in either hand.
he doesn’t mean to look so happy to see him, but tyler grins like an idiot. he really can’t help it. josh is just so cute, like a puppy or something.
when they lock eyes, josh matches his smile and makes his way over.
“you’re welcome,” he says, handing tyler a full cup of beer.
“thanks, bro. we’re up next.”
he faintly registers josh mocking him under his breath, muttering the word “bro”, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. the liquid in josh’s cup is bright blue, almost neon under the purple leds. tyler cringes at the sight of it.
“that shit’s nasty, y’know. s’like pure ethanol.”
“weird. tastes like polar blast hawaiian punch to me. and… sprite? yeah, definitely.”
tyler elbows him in the side. “smartass. you’re annoying.”
“you’re worse.”
tyler’s not even paying attention to the game anymore. he’s facing josh, one shoulder leaning against the wall, giving him his full attention. “i think i hate you.”
josh glances at him, his eyes traveling down and back up before a smirk tugs at his lips. “do you?”
tyler’s eyes narrow like he’s thinking, but really he’s just examining josh’s features. he hates that he looks so good. hates that he’s so witty. hates that he can’t get enough of him. hates that he wants him and wants nothing to do with him at the same time.
“pretty sure,” he decides.
josh shrugs, turning back to the game, sipping his drink. “whatever you say.”
tyler gets a weird feeling in his stomach, but he brushes it off without a care. he turns to watch the game as well, their shoulders nearly touching from where they lean back against the wall.
the heat is radiating from josh, and it makes tyler’s skin buzz the same way it did last weekend. only this time he’s actually fucked up enough to just enjoy the feeling of it, not get sent into some weird spiral. anyone who happened to look his way would think the smile on his lips is simply because he’s drunk, not because of how close the guy next to him is standing.
when the game ends, they’re quick to replace the two girls who lost.
“have y’ever actually played before?” tyler asks, setting up their cups while josh watches.
“of course i have… once or twice.”
tyler’s not even surprised. he just shakes his head, arranging the water-filled cups. he rolls the ball to the brothers on the other side of the table—some seniors he only ever sees at their chapter meetings and the occasional party.
“they’re gonna kick our ass,” he mutters, watching as the first ball lands in one of the back cups.
he quickly moves it to the side of the table, and josh catches the second ball as it bounces off the floor. they pause to each take a sip of their drinks, then tyler shoots first. he makes it, but josh misses.
it’s only a matter of minutes before half of their rack is gone, and they’ve barely made a dent in the other team’s. both of the cups they’ve made were from tyler—josh isn’t much help at all. tyler doesn’t give much encouragement. instead, he teases relentlessly.
“y’suck, man. why’d i agree to this?” he shakes his head, narrowing his eyes down the table before he shoots. the ball actually makes it in a cup, but it feels like a lost cause at this point.
“it was your idea,” josh mutters, shouldering him out of the way as he lines up his shot.
tyler steps aside, small grin on his face, waiting for josh to miss before he shoulders him back. “didn’t realize how big a loser you are. whaddya do in your free time? anything besides homework?”
“you and i have different ideas of fun,” josh says, moving a cup to the side.
“you’re not having fun?”
it comes out a lot softer than he intends, but the concerned look josh gives him makes it worth it. so cute, like he really thinks he hurt tyler’s feelings.
“no, i am,” he says, watching tyler shoot first again. “i’m having lots of fun.”
tyler can feel his eyes on him, but he doesn’t dare meet them. he just steps aside, motioning for josh to take his turn, grateful the other guys on table are dividing their attention between the game and a few girls so they’re not paying them much attention.
for the first time all game, josh actually makes a cup. he turns to tyler, eyes lit up, smiling wide. “you see that?”
if they were alone, tyler’d celebrate with him. say something nice, maybe even pat him on the back. but they’re not, so he just shakes his head. “wow. finally. we’re about to fucking lose, idiot.”
for some reason, that only makes josh’s smile grow, teeth poking through now.
“you have such a way with words,” he fake swoons. his tone makes tyler feel woozy.
“quit being weird,” he says, rearranging the cups into a stoplight formation per the other team’s request.
josh mumbles, “you like it,” in a tone just low enough for him to hear.
tyler has to punch him in the arm for that one. it’s either that, or choke him out in front of everyone, and that’s not really an option.
josh laughs, and tyler silently prays nobody can tell how red his ears are.
they lose quickly after that.
tyler managed to drink two more full cups in the short time their game took, and everything’s catching up to him quickly—including the few shots he took less than an hour ago.
he doesn’t have a clue in the world how much alcohol he’s consumed.
he doesn’t even realize how drunk he is. not until he momentarily snaps back to his senses, and he’s standing in the rock room with his mouth watering.
his head’s spinning, eyelids heavy, stomach churning. the whole world is blurry, only adding to his nausea.
“fuck,” he groans, swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth.
he steps into the hallway. it’s a little cooler, and the music’s the tiniest bit quieter, but it doesn’t make a difference. he leans over, hands on his knees, trying to remember what he was just doing but coming up short. he doesn’t remember how he got in the rock room, either.
“you okay?”
he blinks slowly, eyes lagging as he looks up towards the source of the voice.
it’s josh. tyler’s lips lift at the sight of him, despite the bubbling in his stomach.
“heyyy, josh,” he says, words slurring worse now. “y’having funnn?”
“dude, you good? you’re white as a ghost.”
tyler barely even registers what he’s saying. all he knows is that his body’s hot like he’s feverish, his stomach hurts, and he can’t keep swallowing the bile rising in the back of his throat forever.
“gonna throw up,” he mumbles, groaning as he stands back up straight. he stumbles a little, sticking his arms out for balance. josh reaches out and steadies him. his hands on tyler’s waist only make him more dizzy.
tyler doesn’t know why josh is helping him. they’d only played one game and that was… just minutes ago. right? was josh in the rock room with him? is that how he got there?
he can’t fucking remember.
he’s just aware enough to realize what that means. he’s on the verge of blacking out.
“want me to come with you?”
“fuck no,” tyler pushes josh’s hands off him. “m’fine. don’t nnneed your he-elp. be back soonnn. wait for me, yyyeah?”
josh hesitates, giving tyler a full-body scan like he’s been injured somewhere or something. tyler chokes out a weak laugh, one hand clutching his gurgling stomach. it’s nice of josh to care.
“m’fine,” he repeats, halfway out the basement door. “i’ll fffiiind you.”
he stumbles through the door, gripping the railing to pull himself up each step. he’s lucky there’s a bathroom so close to the staircase, and even more lucky it’s unoccupied. otherwise, he’d be running outside to puke in the yard, and that not only sucks for him, but any potential witnesses.
it happens in flashes.
locking the door.
kneeling in front of the toilet.
flushing.
hands under cold water.
outside the bathroom, a girl waits for him.
it takes him a second to realize it’s jenna. he forgot she existed until just now.
she’s saying something, apologizing maybe. her lips are moving but it just goes in one ear and out the other.
all he can think of is josh.
he’s downstairs waiting. tyler has to get back to him.
everything after that is black.
next thing he knows, he’s waking up naked with an equally-as-naked jenna asleep beside him.
the nausea hits him full force, before he even has a second to fully process where he is. his head’s throbbing, and everything hurts, and his mouth is a foul combination of flavors. beer, titos, puke, and… jenna?
jesus christ.
he can’t even remember sleeping with her. that’s probably for the best, though.
he’s afraid any sudden movement will have him hunched over the edge of the bed and vomiting on the floor, even though his stomach’s barren of anything other than bile. slowly, he turns over, reaching for his phone.
it’s at thirteen percent. his dumbass didn’t plug it in last night.
he doesn’t remember what time he went to bed. when did he even see jenna? she wasn’t at the party, was she?
he only has one notification.
it’s a text from "josh dun”, sent at 2:26am .
you’re a fucking asshole
tyler’s heart sinks.
he was with josh last night—that much he does remember. they played a game of beer pong together, but everything after that is… fuzzy. at one point they were in the rock room. he doesn’t know for how long. at some point after that he went to the bathroom. what happened next?
fuck.
what happened next?
tyler reads the text over and over, trying to find some sort of memory as to what went down, but nothing comes.
come on, come on.
he was in the bathroom and then…
nothing. and then he woke up.
shit.
what did he do?
Chapter 8: sunday scaries
Summary:
tyler is faced with horrendous hangxiety.
Notes:
i felt bad leaving on a cliffhanger sorry
thank you guys so much for 3k hits <3 mwah i love you all so much
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
tyler can think of a million and one different things he might’ve done wrong—each one worse than the last.
he could’ve said something horrible.
maybe he hit someone. what if it was josh?
no way. in what world would josh have said something to provoke that reaction out of him?
think, tyler. why would josh be texting you at 2:30 in the morning to tell you how much of an asshole you are?
surely it was after he went to his room. did jenna come with him? did she show up after?
if it was the former, josh would probably think jenna is his girlfriend. something like that. right? maybe that’s all.
maybe it’s fixable.
but.
what if he… told josh? the truth. the one that makes his skin crawl, that keeps him up at night. the one he can’t even admit to himself.
blacking out always sucks, but knowing josh was there makes it so much worse. tyler has not the slightest clue what he did last night. whatever it was, he shouldn’t be held responsible. that wasn’t him. he wasn’t the one behind the wheel.
he can’t take it anymore.
“jenna,” he says, shaking her by the shoulder. “wake up.”
she stirs, mumbling something incoherent. a huff, and then she settles.
“get up,” he tries again. “seriously. i’m not playing around.”
there’s spiders festering in his stomach, crawling up his throat like they’re trying to escape the rot inside him. tyler doesn’t blame them.
“stop,” jenna mutters, shrugging his hand off. “leave me alone. so tired.”
he’s going to freak out. maybe he already is a little bit.
his heart drums against his ribs so hard he can hear the echo of it. the way his skin stretches over his bones feels wrong, like it doesn’t quite belong to him. it’s suffocating.
“wake the fuck up,” he snaps, giving her a firm shove. not enough to hurt or anything, but enough to startle her awake.
her eyes dart open. she sits up, the comforter falling off her bare chest, looking as concerned as tyler feels scared.
“okay, okay. chill out. what’s your problem?”
she tugs the comforter up to cover herself, like all of a sudden she’s concerned about being naked in his bed. whether she’s exposed or not doesn’t make a difference to tyler. if anything, he’s glad she has the decency.
tyler, acting on instinct, reaches under the pillow and is relieved to find his vape. the nicotine does little to ease his anxiety, though it curbs the ache of withdrawal in his throat.
“what happened last night?” he asks, trying to appear calm despite how loud his pulse beats in his ears. if jenna really knew how terrified he is right now, it’d only make things worse.
“you don’t remember?”
jenna leans over the edge of the bed and comes back up with one of tyler’s dirty shirts. she slides it over her head, and normally tyler would tell her to take that shit off because he’s not her boyfriend, but he’s far too frazzled.
“no i don’t fucking remember. that’s why i asked,” he mutters, wincing at the way his head suddenly throbs. “i blacked out. fuck, i’m so hungover. can you grab a water?”
she nods, throwing off the covers without a second thought. tyler averts his eyes, staring at the wall in front of them for jenna’s sake. for her privacy. yeah. not any other reason.
out of the corner of his eye, he faintly makes out her leaning down to pull on her underwear. she crosses the room to the mini fridge decorated in various ohio state magnets. when it opens, the light that floods the room makes tyler hiss like a vampire. he shields his eyes with his palm.
“not much happened,” she says. he waits to hear the fridge close before he lowers his hand. “nothing that important, really.”
“jesus, jenna. what do you mean nothing happened?” he sighs, subconsciously scooting away as she sits back on the bed. she uncaps the water and drinks from it first, and he can’t say he blames her, even though he clearly needs it more. “i don’t remember anything after i threw up. barely even remember what happened before that. when’d you get here?”
“wait, really?” she chuckles like it’s funny to her. tyler’d bitch at her if he didn’t feel like death. she hands over the water, and he starts chugging like he’s been deprived for days.
“well,” she starts, “i was waiting to use the bathroom. didn’t know it was you in there. when you came out, it was the first time i saw you all night, and i was just trying to say sorry for what happened friday. i’d been there for, like, an hour. thought maybe you were avoiding me.”
she waits to see if he’ll respond. he doesn’t—just keeps drinking, avoiding her gaze. if he knew she was there, then yeah, he would’ve been actively avoiding her, but he didn’t.
“anyway, you were a fucking dick to me. yelled at me to just shut up. leave you alone. said that you didn’t want me here.”
as he finishes, tyler squeezes the empty plastic bottle in his palm, breaking her silence as it crinkles beneath his fingers. he’s not sure if she expects an apology, but she’s not getting one. yeah, he feels bad, but he doesn’t even remember it.
“so i shut up and let you walk away. and after i went to the bathroom, i went and made out with brad.”
her lips lift in a small smirk. tyler holds in a snort.
does she really think he gives a fuck? is that supposed to make him jealous?
brad can have her. in fact, he’s going to ask him to please take her off his hands.
“brad’s cool,” he croaks, tossing the crumpled up bottle on the floor. “good for him. so is that it, then? you didn’t see me the rest of the night? how’d you end up in my bed then?”
“yeah, he’s cool,” she agrees, hesitating before quietly adding, “he’s not you, though.”
if he wasn’t so impatiently waiting for her to get to the point already, he’d be flattered. something had to have happened, and he knows damn well it has something to do with her.
“so i got bored of him,” she continues, holding out her palm as tyler hits his vape. he sighs but hands it over.
“i went to go look for you.” she blows out a thin cloud of smoke, hands his vape back over. “and i found you in the kitchen with my friends—debby and josh.”
tyler swears his heart stops.
he feels like he could faint. like he could throw up all over the both of them right now.
oh my god. oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
what the fuck? oh my god.
her and josh are friends?
no, no, no. surely not.
surely jenna would’ve mentioned him before if they were… but maybe she has. tyler doesn’t listen to the shit she says half the time. josh is such a basic ass name, she could’ve brought him up before and tyler wouldn’t have thought twice.
“i guess i should’ve realized then how drunk you were, because josh was feeding you water like your life depended on it. it was sorta sweet, actually. you guys were giggling like a couple of girls. debby looked pissed, though. seemed like she was the third wheel.”
she’s smiling while she says it, but tyler grows more and more nauseous with every word.
he has no idea who debby is. wouldn’t be able to recognize her if she was right in front of his face.
how long had she been with them? did tyler do or say anything that would’ve made her think…?
fuck. what if he did? jenna’s not gonna have that answer for him.
as nice as it was for josh to try sobering him up, tyler can’t even think about that. all he can do is take a few slow, deep breaths and try to seem unfazed.
it feels like the world’s going to collapse on him.
jenna keeps going, “i don’t think they realized you were my tyler.”
he buries his face in his hands to hide the way he cringes, repulsed to be referred to as hers. he’s not hers. not even close.
“josh was really confused when i started kissing you,” she says, laughing like he’s supposed to think it’s funny. like he should laugh along. maybe he should—for the sake of covering his own ass—but he just can’t.
it’s not fucking funny. not in the slightest. in fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if he were to spontaneously combust right here, right now.
“he was shocked when i told them that you were the guy i’ve been talking about. maybe he didn’t think you’d be so cute,” she jokes.
every hair on his body stands on end. he hugs his knees to his chest, dropping his head to hide his face in the sheet that covers them.
okay. yeah. makes sense why josh hates him now.
why does he even care? it doesn’t matter what josh thinks about him. so what if he’s slept with both of them?
he shouldn’t care. but he does. so much.
“and after that,” jenna says, “we just came up here. i didn’t even know how drunk you were. you seemed fine.”
it’s not the first time he can’t remember them hooking up. it’s not an issue—he prefers it. wouldn’t sleep with her if he wasn’t shitfaced.
he must’ve gotten josh’s number when she was with brad, then. he wishes he could fucking remember. who asked who? what prompted the question?
fuck. there’s so much that could’ve happened. so much jenna doesn’t have the answers to.
“get out,” he mutters, forehead still on his knees.
it’s all he can do to not freak out right now. it’s coming—he can feel it. he needs to get jenna away before that happens. it’s already bad enough that he’s sitting here, speechless, curled up like a little bitch.
“what? why? are you okay? you’re acting… weird.”
hot tears prick his eyes. he squeezes them shut, digging his nails into the arms that clutch his legs to his chest.
what’s wrong with him? why the fuck is he crying?
“get out,” he repeats, this time through gritted teeth.
she’s still for a moment, but then he feels the bed shift.
“sorry,” she says quietly, shuffling around. probably looking for her clothes. “i didn’t mean to make you upset.”
you didn’t he wants to say, but the lump in his throat prevents that. his jaw’s clenched tightly, doing all he can to hold in the pressure building behind his eyelids.
it’s nothing she did. it’s him. it’s all him. always.
she dresses quickly and leaves without another word, gently shutting the door on her way out.
once he’s alone, the dam bursts.
tyler chokes out a sob, the force of it ripping through his whole body. he gasps for air, breath shuddering, arms locked around his legs, tears dampening the sheet on top of them.
what’s wrong with him? what the fuck is wrong with him? why can’t he just be normal?
what does he do? how can he make this right?
why does he even care about making it right?
he didn’t do anything wrong. he didn’t.
jenna and josh are friends. so what? it’s not the first time he’s hooked up with two people who know each other.
…well, what if josh tells her? if they’re that close of friends, wouldn’t he? he doesn’t owe tyler anything.
if josh tells her, if she tells anyone… that’s it. everyone will find out.
tyler’s life will be over.
his friends will all hate him. they won’t be able to kick him out of the frat, but he wouldn’t dare stay with the way they’ll treat him. he can see it—mark asking if it’s true, mike laughing, brad stunned, jake bragging that he had a feeling the whole time. everyone backing off like he’s diseased. like he was never really their brother.
he’ll have to lie to his parents about why he’s dropping. they can’t know. maybe he’ll need to switch schools. start fresh somewhere else where no one knows him.
his breath comes too fast, too short. the tears don’t last long—he’s too dehydrated to cry much—but that just leaves him with dry sobs. he’s trembling and scratching all up and down his arms, trying to displace the ache inside him into something real. something physical. something that hurts less than the serrated blade plunged deep in his psyche.
there’s no way he can salvage this.
even if he were to text josh, he has no idea what he’d say.
so he doesn’t respond, just tosses his phone away and lays back down. curls into a ball, fists bunched in the sheets, racked with guilt, and shame, and pure panic. not quite crying, but hiccuping like he can’t get enough oxygen.
he needs today to be over already, so he’ll just go back to sleep and try again tomorrow.
maybe everything will be okay. maybe this is a good thing.
josh won’t want anything to do with him anymore. any chance tyler had at having any sort of relationship with him—friendship, situationship, whatever—it’s ruined now. he doesn’t have to keep driving himself crazy. he should be relieved.
he just has to hope josh doesn’t hate him enough to destroy him.
although he wouldn’t even blame him if he did.
Chapter 9: god-fearing but literally
Summary:
tyler thinks things can't get worse...
then his mom calls.
Chapter Text
the hangxiety carries over into monday.
tyler had hoped that sleeping the whole day away would magically fix everything, but he was wrong. all it did was delay the inevitable pain of having to come to terms with what happened saturday night.
he’s spent all day in bed—skipping classes, skipping meals, ignoring texts.
jenna has been texting him every now and then, trying to see if it was something she did wrong and if he’s okay. mark texted him last night asking where he was, and again this morning with a simple “u good?”
that’s it. they’re the only two people who ever check on him when he isolates like this. the only two people who give a shit if something happens to him, and tyler can’t even reciprocate that for one of them.
he’s awful. really, truly awful.
he knows that, and most of the time he’s at peace with it, but sometimes he has days like this, where thinking about the kind of person he is makes him sick to his stomach.
for most of the day, he’s laid in bed staring at the ceiling, willing the sinking feeling inside to dissipate. every time he thought he’d talked himself out of the hole, the spiral would just start all over again, and he’d be right back to hating everything that makes him… him.
he spent most of the day wading in and out of consciousness, watching tiktok, playing fortnite—anything to try and numb himself. none of that worked, though, so he’s resorted to the only thing that ever helps.
the five empty bottles of mich ultra on the table beside where his feet rest suggests the one squished between his thigh and the armrest of the loveseat is his sixth. he can’t remember opening six, but here they are.
“fuck!” he whisper-shouts, throwing his controller on the table as joker gets launched off the platform, losing him another game of super smash bros. “are you fucking kidding me? this shit’s rigged.”
his beer is cold as he takes a few swigs, then sets the bottle on the table with the others. grabbing his phone, he realizes that it’s close to nine o’clock, meaning he’s actually been at it for a couple hours now. all that time, and he’s won less than half his games. stupid. he’s sure he’s not that bad. everyone else has to be cheating somehow. he’d rather play fortnite again anyway.
before he can think of moving, his phone starts vibrating. his thumb moves on instinct to decline it—automatically assuming it’s jenna—but he stops short, seeing mom bolded across the top of the screen.
dread hits him full force. he freezes, staring at the contact photo of him and her on the day he graduated from high school.
they haven’t talked since the start of the semester, about a month ago. that’s typical for them, since tyler forgets his family exists while he’s away, and they seem to do the same. his mom calls him every once in a while to catch him up on everything, but sometimes he wishes she wouldn’t. it just reminds him how awful of a son he is for never remembering to call—especially today, when he’s already self-loathing.
he doesn’t want to answer. it’s not even nine on a monday night and he’s already drinking. if she hears it in his voice, she’ll be disappointed.
still, it’s his mom. she pays for him to go to college. the least he can do is answer the fucking phone when she calls.
“hello?”
“hi, honey!” his mom’s voice rings out, warm and chirpy. it comforts and makes him more uneasy at the same time. if only she knew how horrible her son is. “how are you? how’s school going?”
“s’good,” he says. she’s quiet on the other line, so he adds in random bullshit. “my classes are going good. i got a project i gotta work on, but i did pretty good on this quiz i had the other day. know a few people in my classes, so that’s good too.”
“that’s great, honey. how’re your friends? mark?”
tyler abandons the loveseat in favor of his desk so he can load up fortnite on his pc. “he’s good,” he says, setting his half-drank beer to the left of his keyboard. “his classes are going good too, s’far as i know.”
“i’m glad to hear that. you’re staying out of trouble?”
he rolls his eyes, staring at the loading screen. “yes, mom.”
if you define staying out of trouble as not having an identity crisis and kinda wishing you were dead, then no, actually. he’s not staying out of trouble. but he knows she means in the normal sense of the word, which he pretty much is. there’s the whole sleeping with josh situation that’s gotten in a whole heap of trouble but—again—not that kind of trouble.
“just figured i’d ask. i know those boys you hang out with can get rowdy.”
tyler sighs. “did you call just to lecture me?”
“oh! no, i have good news actually. you remember that girl zach was hanging out with over the summer? the one he met in school?”
“nope.” tyler shifts through his owned fortnite skins—something to occupy himself while he waits for this call to end. “i don’t pay attention to him.”
“you don’t remember tatum? she was over all the time... anyways, zach finally asked her to be his girlfriend! isn’t that so sweet? i’m happy for him. he seems to really like the girl.”
tyler swallows the lump in his throat. he know exactly where this is heading. his mom brings up him getting a girlfriend every single time they talk, and now she’s got even more reason to… his little brother got one before him, for christ’s sake.
“yeah, good for him,” he mutters sarcastically, spinning in his chair away from his desk. he leans over, elbow on his knee and head in hand, bracing for the inevitable.
“how about you? you meet anyone special yet?”
tyler rubs his temples. he knows she means well, but she has no idea the toll it takes on him every time she asks. it’s just another reminder of everything wrong with him—that even if he does settle down with a girl (jenna, preferably), it’s never going to satisfy him in the way it should. he’ll never know peace. he’ll never be happy.
“not really,” he says, same response as every other time.
he hasn’t told any of them about jenna. they’d just push and pry, and he’d feel even more forced into something he doesn’t want. besides, in the chance that one day he really does screw up things with her for good, he wouldn’t be able to live with his family’s reactions.
“hm.” he can hear the frown in her tone. “are you still going to church? you haven’t met any nice girls there?”
tyler’s glad this is happening over the phone so she can’t see the way the color drains from his face.
he was raised religious—went to sunday school, bible camp, and even a christian high school. he never missed a sermon and sat in the pews with his family every single week. none of that was by choice, of course. his family didn’t give him any option.
growing up, he’d always felt disconnected from the god he learned about. no matter how much he prayed, religion just left him with more questions than answers. he’s always wished he could blindly believe like the rest of his family, but he’s spent his entire life so far struggling with his faith, and he probably will until the day he dies.
he doesn’t consider himself religious anymore, even though he still sorta believes in god and is terrified by the thought of going to hell. they instill that fear in you young—so young, it becomes part of who you are.
tyler doesn’t dare tell her the full truth—that the only services he’s attended since starting college have been the ones he goes to with them, when he’s at home on break.
“i haven’t really had time this semester…”
he feels the sigh she lets out deep in his bones. “oh, hon. you’ve gotta start going. this weekend, okay? maybe you’ll meet someone.”
the weight of his lie sits heavy on his chest. he’s ashamed to have to lie to her in the first place. if only he was normal. if only he was the good son they want him to be.
he whispers his agreement, knowing damn well he’s not stepping foot in any church this weekend. it’d probably catch on fire, and everyone would know it’s all his fault. they’d know how awful he is. they’d know he’s going to hell.
“alright, sweetie. i love you. be good.”
“love you. bye.”
in the black screen of his phone, tyler can’t bear to look at his reflection for more than a second before he’s chucking it across the room onto his bed.
he’s sick. he’s not right. he’s all twisted up inside.
downing what’s left of his beer, tyler leaves the empty on his desk and grabs another from the mini fridge.
he doesn’t want to be himself, trapped in his mind with no way out. it’s exhausting.
the worst part is, his mom has no idea. she doesn’t know how much he’s struggling to change who he is just so he can stop feeling like there’s something wrong with him. she has no idea how he feels, thinking about how he’s doomed to hell for all the guys he’s slept with.
it doesn’t matter how much he tells himself he doesn’t like guys like that. lust is just as much of a sin—if not, more—so he’s damned either way. how would she feel knowing her firstborn can’t be saved? would she still love him the same? or would she disown him in the same way he’s witnessed happen to some of the kids he went to high school with?
fuck. he shouldn’t have answered the phone. now he’s back to spiraling—doesn’t even care about the match he’s waiting in the lobby of, so he just exits the game and crawls into bed, bottle of michelob in hand.
flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, thinking maybe somehow there’s a god above looking down on him, shaking his head. supposedly a lover of all his children, but tyler doubts he’s included in that. surely doesn’t feel like it.
why else is he this way? his all-knowing, all-loving god wouldn’t put him through hell on earth if he loved him. he wouldn’t have let saturday night happen, and he definitely would’ve made sure that tyler never met josh.
actually, tyler’s pissed that josh even exists. he’s never suffered this much because of some dude, never faced consequences like these for some dumb, drunk hookup.
that’s all it was, and all it will ever be.
so why the fuck is the guilt eating tyler alive?
he’s never felt bad for hooking up with two friends before, let alone one of them being a guy he doesn’t even fucking know. a normal person would be more concerned about how jenna would feel if she found out, but no. not tyler. all he can worry about is what josh might think of him.
oh god. the alcohol is doing the opposite of what he wanted. everything feels ten times worse.
josh probably thinks he’s a horrible person for sleeping with him and his friend. assuming he knows everything, he’d know the weird relationship jenna and tyler have. he’d know how head over heels she is for him. there’s no way he won’t tell her, right?
no… he wouldn’t do that. would he? he seems nice enough that he wouldn’t purposely out tyler like that.
wait. is tyler a terrible person? he kinda is, isn’t he?
he’s an asshole to everyone he knows, even the people he really cares about deep down. he does shit with no regard for how it makes others feel, as long as it benefits him. jenna doesn’t deserve it. he knows she doesn’t. josh wouldn’t deserve it either, in the alternate universe where they end up friends and tyler treats him like shit just the same as he does everyone else.
maybe mark and jenna are the only two people who give a shit about him, but it’s a miracle he even has that.
how could anyone stand to be around him? to be friends with him? how is anyone supposed to love him one day?
the tears are hot as they stream from the corners of his eyes to the tips of his ears, soaking the pillow below his head. it’s silent save for the sniffling and soft whimpers that escape with every harsh exhale.
breath sputtering, tyler sits up abruptly, tears dripping from his chin now. beer still in hand, he uses the other to fumble around for where he chucked his phone, finding it near the foot of the bed.
he ignores the unopened messages from mark and jenna, and heads straight for his conversation with josh.
you’re a fucking asshole.
the message—the only one between them—sits in a dark gray bubble against the black background, taunting him. tyler reads it once, twice, ten times. it’s right there clear as day. josh does think he’s a horrible person.
it makes him sick to his stomach, and although he’s not sure why he’s torturing himself like this, he tells himself it’s what he deserves. as if this is some sort of penance that could make up for anything he’s done in the slightest.
it won’t.
with a heavy heart, and while choking back sobs, he types out a message and hits send.
i’m sorry.
Notes:
shorter chapter sorry and the next one probably will be too but josh will make a return yayyy!
i made a playlist buttt i'm hesitant to share my personal spotify, so i also made one on youtube with all lyric videos for you to enjoy :D you can find it here! i add songs as i find ones that make me think of them <3
thanks for almost 4k hits by the way. i love you all :')
Chapter 10: his phone is fine but tyler isn't
Summary:
tyler runs into josh...
literally.
Notes:
sorry it's been a little bit. i accidentally got addicted to planet coaster and roblox and i've been working like crazy. this chapter is short but there's good things in store in the next ones i promiseeee
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
josh never responds.
tyler doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it’s like a punch directly to his gut. especially because josh has read receipts on, so he knows he’s seen it. in fact, he read it the next morning after tyler sent it. it’s been two days since then, and tyler’s been driving himself crazy checking their text thread every few hours as if a message from josh will magically appear.
it’s stupid. josh is stupid. what freak has their read receipts on anyway? maybe he purposely turned them on just for tyler—just to be a dick. fuck him.
he didn’t deserve tyler’s apology anyway. tyler didn’t do anything wrong.
that’s what he keeps telling himself, at least, because believing the contrary didn’t get him anywhere other than ten beers deep and questioning his rocky relationship with god.
he’s got class soon, but for now he’s demolishing the remainder of his smashfries. it’s probably really disgusting to eat as much smashburger as he does, but he’ll worry about that when he’s dead. if clogged arteries from fast food is what takes him out sixty years down the line, then so be it.
for now, he’ll keep on eating and pretend like he can’t see the girl staring at him from across the restaurant.
he has no idea who she is, or why she’s got such a staring problem, but it’s really starting to piss him off. she’s not even trying to hide it either. it doesn’t matter how many times tyler furrows his brows or narrows his eyes, she just does it right back.
has he made some sort of mortal enemy or something? or maybe it’s a girl he hooked up with previously and it was so god-awful that he erased her from his memory. it’s sad that both options are equally as likely.
her auburn hair is a bit familiar, but he can’t place why.
they play eye tag for as long as it takes for him to finish his lunch. he’s just finally made peace with knowing he’ll never figure out who she is when she stops him on the way out the door.
“tyler.”
he pauses mid-step, wincing like he’s in pain. great. so she knows him, but he doesn’t know her. this is so fucking awkward.
slowly, he turns around to face her, forcing a smile. “oh! hey… you.”
she scoffs, stepping through the door he holds open. he has no choice but to follow her onto the sidewalk. arms folded over her chest, she asks, “you don’t remember me, do you?”
he’s got to get to class. he doesn’t have time for this.
“uhhh…” he eyes her from head to toe, head tilting to the side as he thinks. where’s the most likely place he knows her from? class? no, he’d at least recognize her face. did they meet at the bar? at a party? he doesn’t have the faintest fucking clue in the world, but he’s going to be late for class if he doesn’t leave now. “nah, i got nothing.”
“wow. guess you really were that drunk.” she says. before he can ask what she’s talking about, she adds, “i’m debby.”
fuck.
debby like… debby, debby? like jenna’s debby? josh’s debby? the one that was supposedly “third-wheeling” them saturday night while tyler was blacked out?
fuuuuck.
he really can’t ever catch a break, can he? it’s just one misfortune after another.
his anxiety spikes—pulse throbbing in his ears, sweaty palms that he wipes on his pants. what could she possibly have to tell him? did he do something weird in front of her? does she know?
he swallows thickly, buying himself a second to calm down while he digs his vape from his pocket and takes a hit. the icy peach cools his lungs just enough for him to keep it together.
“okay,” he deadpans. “what do you want?”
she shakes her head, chuckling to herself for a moment before looking him dead in the eyes. “i just wanted to tell you you’re an asshole.”
she spins on her heels and walks away, leaving tyler standing there absolutely dumbfounded—jaw dropped and all.
it’s not the first girl he’s heard it from, and it probably won’t be the last, but it’s the fact that it’s coming from her that has him taken aback. she has good reason to think he’s an ass—on behalf of both jenna and josh—but the thing is, he doesn’t know who she’s speaking for.
what the fuck is she talking about? did josh tell her? what does she know?
he drives himself crazy with it during his walk to class. early october means fall is on the horizon, and with the last traces of summer slowly fading to black, tyler feels like he’s being taken with it.
he very quickly reaches the conclusion that josh did tell debby, and she’s going to tell everyone, and his life is going to be ruined. he’s going to have to drop kdr and switch schools. somehow his family will find out why, and they’re all going to hate him. they’ll disown him. he’ll never be happy again. he’ll die alone.
he can’t take it. he has to figure out what debby knows.
the only thing he can think to do is text jenna.
ran into that debby chick you know. she told me i’m an asshole lmfao?
within seconds, she’s typing a response. tyler takes quick glances between his screen and the path in front of him, walking faster than he should with his nose buried in his phone, but he really doesn’t want to be late for class.
omg did she really?
i’m sorry
dw about it she’s just overprotective
tyler squints, struggling to read with the sun glaring directly on the dim screen.
just overprotective? clearly, but that doesn’t tell him anything.
did you say something about me?
no it’s just that she saw me making out with brad and was all like oh isn’t your man here and i told her you got mad and yelled at me and said you didn’t want me there
sorry :(
i told her the next day it was fine and i didn’t want her saying anything to you
pls don’t be mad
tyler lets out a breath. under normal circumstances, he probably would be mad, but considering he was so sure his life was over, all he feels is relief.
he strains to make out the letters on his phone’s small keyboard—eyes narrowed, phone an inch away from his face—when it hits him.
or… when something hits him.
he full-on collides with another person, grunting as their body stops him with the force of a brick wall. his phone flies out of his hands and smacks face-down on the concrete, and he’s too concerned with watching its landing to notice the other person dropped their phone too… until he hears the sound of it also thudding against the ground.
slapping his hand to his mouth, tyler’s stunned, eyeing their side-by-side phones (both face down) with wide eyes. the other person had to have been on their phone too, so at least it’s not entirely his fault, but fuck.
what if his screen is shattered? what if the other person’s is and his isn’t? god, they’ll be so fucking mad at him. he better start apologizing now just in case.
“fuck, i’m s-”
his brain short-circuits as his eyes raise to meet none other than josh’s.
why is everything out to get him? why, why, why?
josh grins all smug, but tyler doesn’t know what he could possibly have to smile about. not only could both of their phones be broken, but they’re both… here. face-to-face. for the first time since that night, since he called tyler an asshole then left his apology on read. there isn’t shit to smile about.
tyler completely clams up. his lips open and shut a few times while he tries to think of something smart to say to save this whole situation, but he just can’t get anything to come out. it’s not that he’s afraid of josh or that he looks so annoyingly good or anything like that. he just… doesn’t know what to say is all. there’s nothing to say.
josh bends down slowly, holding eye contact the whole way, while tyler stands there like a braindead fucking idiot. he can’t look away no matter how badly he wants to, like josh has him under some sort of spell.
he picks up their phones and inspects them both, holding out tyler’s after a second. “they’re both fine.”
tyler swallows hard, eyeing josh’s outstretched hand. his fingers are so thick, no wonder they felt so good when they were ins-
oh my god, tyler. what is wrong with you?
he quickly snatches the phone, avoiding josh’s hand like he’s got the plague. there’s not a scratch on it, not even a tiny scrape on his case or anything. his fucking phone’s luckier than he is.
josh looks at him like he’s waiting for him to say something, but tyler doesn’t have a clue what the fuck he’s expecting. a thank you? another apology?
he’s not getting any of that—not after he deliberately left tyler on read.
tyler might be an asshole, but so is josh. he’s an asshole loser with strangely beautiful eyes and such good bone structure and scarily thick fingers and-
fuck. is tyler imagining that, or are his pants getting tighter?
oh god. oh no. he’s doomed. this is awful. josh is truly, terribly awful.
he finally manages to blurt out, “i’m gonna be late for class.”
it’s the truth, anyway—even if the reason he can’t stand to be around josh any longer is because his damn dick has a mind of its own.
he moves to side-step around him, but josh is quicker, stopping him with a firm palm against the center of his chest. “are you serious?”
tyler’s heart lurches. he jolts away, skin burning, praying josh couldn’t feel how fast he’s got his heart racing. josh looks rather pissed, and for some reason it actually makes tyler feel a bit guilty—which is stupid, because he didn’t do anything.
“what?”
“that’s it?” josh presses. “nothing else to say?”
tyler doesn’t know where it comes from, but he explodes before he even has a chance to register it.
“i already fucking said sorry,” he snaps. his heart twists at the way josh’s face drops, but he keeps on. “what else do you want from me?”
“i don’t know.” josh sighs, exasperated. “an explanation?”
he knows exactly what josh is talking about. he wants an explanation for what the fuck is wrong with him—for why he’s stringing jenna along while going around and secretly fucking dudes. oh, how tyler wishes he knew, but it’s nothing he can even make sense of himself, let alone explain to someone else.
“i don’t owe you anything.” he takes a step around josh, nostrils flaring, the words pouring out of him like rapid-fire arrows, desperate to protect the crumbling walls that house the deepest parts of him. “you’re not my fucking boyfriend. you’re not even my friend. you want an explanation? fine. i’m. not. gay. so leave me the fuck alone.”
josh’s expression shifts like he’s been sucker-punched. tyler just barely catches it, but forces himself to look away. he can’t deal with that look. he’s sick of feeling like he’s hurting some stupid puppy.
he storms off, jaw clenched and a lump in his throat, rapidly blinking away the tears pricking behind his eyes. the guilt washes over instantaneously, but it quickly gets brushed under the rug of anger.
he almost stops. just for a second, something in him urges him to turn around, to take it all back, but he doesn’t. he can’t.
anger’s his best friend. it’s familiar. safer.
why the fuck does he feel so guilty? he shouldn’t give a fuck if he hurts josh’s feelings, but he does .
how does he make it stop?
he needs it to stop.
Chapter 11: josh is an evil succubus
Summary:
tyler sets out to prove he's not gay.
somehow it ends with josh between his legs.
Notes:
i have nothing to say to preface this. just... enjoy
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
it’s friday night and kdr is throwing a rodeo themed party—lots of flannel, cowboy hats, and leather boots. tyler doesn’t own the latter, but he did find a red flannel in the back of his closet.
he has it fully unbuttoned, exposing the smooth skin of his chest and the soft hair below his belly button. paired with blue jeans and an extra cowboy hat one of his brothers let him borrow—he looks like a true slutty cowboy.
no surprise, he’s lost count of how many beers he’s already had. the party started an hour ago, and he pregamed for a couple hours before that, so just based on that fact alone, it’s safe to assume the count is somewhere close to seven or eight.
make it nine. he’s in the middle of shotgunning another. he and mark are tucked in a corner upstairs—away from the basement, away from the line of girls waiting for the bathroom. it was mark’s idea to race each other, and tyler’s not one to turn down the opportunity to gloat.
he finishes his shotgun first, wiping his chin on the sleeve of his flannel and letting out an obnoxiously loud burp. mark finishes a few seconds later, rolling his eyes at tyler’s teasing.
“dunno why you keep thinking you’re gonna beat me. i win everytime.”
“shut up,” mark says, shoving his shoulder, sloppy grins on both their faces. “one day. just wait.”
“yeah, okay.” tyler snickers, reaching for his phone as it starts vibrating in his pocket.
his grin fades away seeing jenna’s name on the screen. this fucking girl. does she ever leave him alone? what the hell does she want? she’s not here, as far as he knows, but she definitely knows about the party, which means she knows he’s hammered right now.
begrudgingly, he answers. “what?”
“hey!” her voice rings out, so loud and chirpy that tyler winces and moves the phone an inch away from his ear. “i just wanted to let you know that i won’t be there tonight because i’m going on a date.”
thank god.
“okay,” tyler says. “have fun.”
it’s obvious she’s only calling because she thinks he’s going to be jealous, but the jokes on her. he couldn’t care less. he’s just glad he escapes another night of hooking up with her. he’d rather she be with literally anyone else than end up in his bed again.
“wait, you don’t want to know who it is?”
she’s so desperate to make him jealous, it’s pathetic. almost laughable. they both know it doesn’t matter—she’ll never move on from tyler. all this call is doing is wasting his time.
“why the fuck would i care who it is?” he hangs up, not caring to hear her response, and shakes his head at mark. “i can’t stand her sometimes.”
“i don’t get you, man,” mark says. “i’m goin’ back down. you coming?”
“yeah.”
while hitting his vape, tyler does a quick sweep of the room—just to see who’s all upstairs. his eyes land on familiar blue hair, making him cough out the smoke in his lungs.
no way. he blinks once, then again, but josh is still there.
of course. fuck. why is this happening to him?
josh stands at the top of the stairs, looking down at his phone. he’s dressed in a black tie-front flannel and cut-off blue jean shorts. the flannel is unbuttoned and tied directly over the center of his chest, not really covering anything other than his pecs. the long sleeves hug his biceps so tightly tyler’s shocked the fabric doesn’t rip. the shorts are so short he can see the hem of his black boxers beneath.
and tyler thought he was dressed slutty. josh makes him look modest.
for as much skin as he has exposed, and as hot as he looks, it’s not enough to distract tyler from the rage burning in his stomach.
how dare he show up here? what gives him the right? tyler clearly told him to stay away. does he not understand what “leave me alone” means?
“actually,” he says to mark, “you go on. i gotta piss. be right down.”
mark nods and claps him on the back before going downstairs. tyler storms over to the pledges at the front door.
“why’d you let that fucking guy in?” he asks, jutting his thumb in josh’s direction.
one pledge goes mute like a dumbass, so the other speaks for them. “what? oh. uh.. well, he paid. and, uh, he’s not on the blacklist. he came with a bunch of girls, so we thought…”
that checks all the boxes. nothing he can really do about it. tyler pinches the bridge of his nose. “right. yeah.”
“yo, joseph!”
great.
jake throws an arm over tyler’s shoulders, breath reeking of booze. “what’s the deal? they fuck up?”
the pledges are white as ghosts. tyler could blame them—could get josh kicked out—but the pledges really didn’t do anything wrong.
it’s just fucking josh. he’s standing there completely clueless, solo cup in hand, chatting with some girl. he looks annoyingly good in that shirt. with so much exposed, not much is left to the imagination. it almost pisses tyler off to think anyone who’s not him gets to see josh dressed like this.
“oh, that guy?” jake points at josh. “don’t worry, bro. that fag’s not stealing any chicks.”
jake laughs, but tyler’s blood runs cold. his stomach drops so fast he nearly misses his cue to laugh. he gives a half-hearted chuckle, ducking out from under his arm. it’s a painful slap in the face that tyler’s surrounded by homophobes who’d all hate him if they ever found out he slept with “that fag.”
oh god, would they start referring to him like that too?
jake’s such a piece of shit. how he can say something like that and not see anything wrong with it, tyler has no idea, but it really shakes him. now, not only is he mad about josh, he’s furious that some lowlife like jake feels entitled to talk about josh in that sort of way.
he can’t say anything to him about it, obviously, because he doesn’t want to draw any suspicion to himself.
“yeah, you’re right,” he tells jake. “i’m just- i- i’m gonna… go.”
he walks away, mentally cursing at himself for not being able to think of an excuse to why he’s currently approaching josh. whether jake and the pledges are watching, he doesn’t know, but he also doesn’t care. if they want to watch him yell at josh, then good. that should keep him clear of any accusations.
the girl he was talking to sees tyler first, and he must look as livid as he feels, because she quickly scurries off, leaving josh alone. he doesn’t even flinch—just checks tyler out from head to toe.
“what the fuck are you doing here?” tyler asks. “i told you to leave me alone.”
he briefly catches josh’s lips twitch into a small smirk before he hides it behind his solo cup, taking a swig before he responds. “how arrogant do you have to be to think i’m here for you?”
damn. he got him there.
“i’m only here because debby wanted me to come with her,” he continues. “what was i supposed to do? say no because jenna’s boyfriend hooked up with me and he’s a piece of shit and i never want to see him again?”
tyler blinks, trying to process all that.
so the feeling’s mutual. they both never want to see each other again. good. great. fine.
but… boyfriend? is that what she’s telling people?
“i’m not her boyfriend,” he mutters.
“whatever. she says you guys are friends with benefits. same thing.”
“no it’s not,” tyler argues, “and we’re not that either. we aren’t friends, and i get no benefits.”
josh snorts. “don’t you guys sleep together?”
oh fuck. he got him again. sleeping together is supposed to be the benefit, isn’t it? tyler forgot that’s a thing he’s supposed to enjoy.
he flushes bright red from his neck to the tips of his ears, his chest burning. how humiliating.
tyler opens his mouth, then shuts it again, unable to redeem himself. stupid, useless brain.
“yeah.” josh chuckles. “but you’re not gay. okay.”
that only makes tyler burn hotter. he’s mad as hell at josh for making a direct accusation like that, but the embarrassment that comes with it keeps him quiet.
what the fuck. is he gay? like, actually?
what does it mean for someone who is gay to insist that he is too?
he can’t be. he has sex with girls all the time. well, he did before meeting josh… but he never enjoyed it. he didn’t even know sex was supposed to be enjoyable until the first time he hooked up with a guy and came so hard he saw stars. everything after that dulled in comparison. that is, until josh.
what the fuck is it about josh that makes him this way?
“whatever. fuck you.”
he quickly brushes past him, shoulders bumping, and rushes downstairs to get away.
stupid fucking josh. tyler hates him. he does. really, truly, hates him. he hates him for making him feel this way. hates him for making himself question himself like this. he didn’t overthink it before josh. he’d kill to go back to that—ignorant, numb, safe.
he isn’t gay. he’s not.
he can prove it.
the music pounds against his skull as he enters the rock room, strobe lights pulsing overhead, illuminating all the neon street signs lining the walls. he can’t remember where he left his solo cup, so he makes the pledge behind the counter pour him another.
while sipping his cold beer, tyler prowls the perimeter of the room, looking for a girl pretty enough to catch his interest. the elevated surfaces in the back are completely crowded with girls dancing together, but he’s not interested in that.
instead, he spots a girl near the dj booth. she’s bleach blonde like jenna, wearing a blue flannel unbuttoned to show her cleavage. her tits are practically spilling out of the shirt. she definitely has on a push-up bra, but whatever. she’s objectively hot, and she’s alone, so tyler swoops in.
“having a good time?” he shouts over the music, getting her attention.
“what?” she yells back. it’s barely audible, but he can read it on her lips.
tyler beckons for her to come closer, so she leans in, fingers curling around his bicep to pull him towards her. “y’look like you’re having a good time.”
she pulls back just enough to flash him a smile, then slides her hand to the back of his neck and leans in again, lips brushing over his ear as she says, “wanna make it better?”
okay, he’s gotta give it to her—that was smooth. he snakes an arm around her waist and pulls their bodies flush, locking lips with her before he can second-guess it.
he wants this. he does.
her lips are soft and wet, and she tastes like fruit punch and cigarettes. she takes charge of the kiss, coaxing tyler into rhythm as her tongue glides over his lips. it gives him a full-body shudder, and not in a good way.
same as every time tyler kisses any girl, he doesn’t feel anything. it doesn’t make him hard, and thinking about her tits or her ass beneath his palm doesn’t make him want her any more. is it normal to feel nothing? is this how every guy feels? do they all have to force it too?
all he does feel is wrong—like there’s something icky pricking beneath his skin and infesting his blood.
he’s not gay, but… this can’t be right.
it can’t feel like this for everybody. with the few guys he’s kissed, it certainly didn’t feel this way.
he wonders how it’d feel to kiss josh.
…fuck.
seriously? now he’s getting hard? what a sick joke.
it’s josh.
josh is what’s under his skin—what’s coursing through his veins, twisting him up like this.
fuck it.
tyler breaks away and weaves through the crowd quickly, before the girl can think to stop him. he ditches his cup at the counter, marching right upstairs. he’s got to find josh. he has to. this has to be settled, or else he’s never going to get over it.
just one more time—that’s all he needs. he craves josh achingly bad, like an addict desperate to curb the effects of withdrawal. that’s all this is. he’s afflicted with an inexplicable fixation on josh, but just one more time ought to get rid of it.
josh is upstairs still, practically in the same spot, like he was just waiting for tyler to come find him. he’s alone, leaning against the wall, quietly observing the few clusters of people gathered around. something about that makes tyler’s chest warm, but instead of stopping to wonder why, he heads straight to him.
“hello again,” josh says, straightening up once he sees tyler.
tyler doesn’t respond. he just grabs josh’s wrist and peels him from the wall, tugging him behind as he heads for the staircase.
“wait, where’re we going? what’re you doing?”
“shut up,” tyler mutters through gritted teeth, grip tight around josh’s wrist as he drags him along.
josh doesn’t put up much of a fight. if he really doesn’t want this, all he has to do is say the words, but he doesn’t—just keeps letting tyler pull him along, all the way up the stairs and down the hallway to his room.
he opens the door just enough to pull josh inside, then grabs him by the waist and pushes him against it, slamming the door shut. within the same breath, tyler’s lips crash against josh’s—teeth clashing, noses bumping, hands roaming.
josh’s skin is warm beneath his palms as his hands slide up his stomach, fingers digging into ribs, thumbs slipping beneath what little fabric covers his chest. his tongue’s even warmer as it slips into tyler’s mouth, combining their spit.
and, god, it feels good.
everything about it is heaven—josh’s mouth on his, his hands on josh, josh’s hands on him.
they’re both breathless, panting into each other’s mouths, too concerned with the kiss to care about needing oxygen.
tyler’s agonizingly hard—has been since just thinking about kissing him. is this what other guys feel like when they kiss girls? all hot and desperate, frantic for more? does he have it all backwards? what’s wrong with him?
josh slots his leg between tyler’s and grips his waist, pulling him forward to grind against his thigh. a moan rips from tyler’s chest, all high-pitched and shaky, and josh quiets him with a tongue in his mouth. the warmth of josh’s leg seeps through tyler’s jeans to his cock, and it feels so good he can’t help but rut against him again.
fuck it. who cares what’s wrong with him? if wrong feels this good, then tyler doesn’t give a shit about being right—not right now, at least. not when his dick’s throbbing so hard it feels like his head’s going to explode.
josh breaks the kiss first, chest heaving with rapid breaths, licking tyler’s spit from his lips. “you’re fucked up. we… we can’t- we shouldn’t- jenna-”
“shut up,” tyler grumbles. he lowers his forehead to josh’s shoulder as he grinds against him again, nails digging into his ribs. “it’s fine.”
“fuck.” josh gasps as tyler nips at his neck. “this is so fucking wrong. jenna’s my friend. i can’t-”
“dude,” tyler groans, pushing off josh’s chest to stand up straight. he unbuttons josh’s shorts, mouth watering. “shut the fuck up and let me suck your dick.”
“i- fuck. yeah. okay. okay, okay.”
it’s funny—anytime tyler goes down on a girl he’s kinda grossed out and not really into it. he’s never wanted to give a girl head, but right now he’s never wanted anything more than he wants to feel josh’s cock hitting the back of his throat.
he helps josh shimmy out of both his shorts and boxers at the same time, dropping them to pool around his ankles. his dick twitches at the sight of josh’s springing free, tip flushed red and slit glistening with a bead of precum.
he drops to his knees, eyes locked with josh’s as his fingers gingerly curl around the base of his cock. he watches the way josh’s back arches off the door as he licks a stripe up the underside of his length, catching the precum on the tip of his tongue.
tyler savors it, his own cock pulsating in his jeans—hard as fuck, just from the smallest taste of josh. in order to get even the slightest bit hard when he’s with a girl, he can only think about the fact that he’s getting laid and not that it’s with a girl. it’s fucking wild, since his dick’s only so hard right now because it’s josh he’s with.
he spits on the head of josh’s cock and spreads it with his palm, biting back a moan as josh grips a fistful of his hair. he’s not usually so sensitive, not so pathetic like this, but it’s been a while since he’s gotten laid. that’s all.
josh doesn’t force anything, just keeps his fingers locked in tyler’s hair as he wraps his lips around his cock and takes him down his throat.
“oh my god, tyler,” he moans, head tilting back.
tyler watches intently, observing the way josh’s stomach quivers whenever he swirls his tongue around his tip and how he bites his lip every time he glances down at him. his moans get louder every time tyler works his fist over what he can’t fit in his mouth, and especially when tyler relaxes his throat to take him deeper. it’s the hottest fucking thing he’s ever had the pleasure of witnessing—josh glistening with sweat, eyes hooded as he watches tyler, jaw slack with low moans.
“tyler.” he gasps as tyler swallows him whole, nose pressed to neatly trimmed pubes. “holy fuck, you’re so good at this.”
tyler hums, prideful, and the vibration makes josh’s hips twitch so suddenly that tyler gags around him.
“shit, sorry,” josh murmurs, loosening his grip on tyler’s hair, hips retreating. tyler groans, digging his nails into josh’s thighs, holding him in place as he swallows him again. “fuuuck.”
he’s sure josh hadn’t expected this—probably doesn’t think he’s ever sucked a guy’s cock before, but he has. his ego relies heavily on being good in bed, so he’s had plenty of practice. thank god for it, because he needs to give josh a reason to start obsessing over him too so this no longer feels one-sided.
he keeps josh’s cock down his throat until his eyes water and his lungs burn, then pulls off with a sharp gasp, a thick string of spit connecting his lips to the head of josh’s cock.
slowly stroking him, tyler rubs josh’s tip over his spit-slick lips, gazing at him through wet lashes. “yeah?”
josh chuckles weakly. “yeah. you’re so good at that. gonna make me cum soon.”
“good.”
he lowers his mouth on josh again, focusing on the tip and stroking the rest of his length. his jaw’s sore, his arm’s tired, and his lips are all tingly and numb, but the way josh’s moans grow increasingly whiny urges him to continue.
“fuck, fuck, i’m cumming.” josh tugs his hair and tyler moans around him, encouraging him to let go. “fuck, tyler.”
he cums with shuddered gasps, spilling into tyler’s mouth while tyler keeps his lips wrapped tightly around him. he strokes josh through it, swallowing it all greedily. josh tastes better than he could’ve imagined.
pulling away, tyler licks his lips clean, then wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. he grunts as he stands, knees red and aching. he’s still rock hard, but he’s satisfied enough just knowing josh is. he can just take care of himself after josh leaves—especially now that he’s got new mental images to jerk off to.
“jesus…” josh pants, reaching down to pull his boxers and shorts back on. “what the fuck was that?”
“nothing.” tyler shrugs, like he can’t still taste josh’s cum in the back of his throat. “you’re welcome.”
josh’s eyes lower to the outline of tyler’s cock. “well, i owe you. your turn.”
his dick throbs at the mere idea of having josh’s mouth on him, but he shakes his head. he can take care of himself. “nah, i’m good. i, uh- haven’t- never let a guy go down on me before.”
“why not?”
tyler grits his teeth. does it matter why?
why isn’t josh leaving? was that really not good enough for him?
he certainly feels a whole lot better now that he’s got that out of him. it was enough to curb his undignified craving for josh—for now, at least.
“i’m not gay.”
josh barks out a laugh, making tyler’s chest burn. “then why’d you just suck my dick like a pro?”
that doesn’t mean anything, right? tyler only did it to make him feel good. he’s only ever done it to make the guy feel good. isn’t that the right thing to do? is it wrong to want to make others feel good? it’s exactly like how he’ll still go down on a girl because—even though he hates it—it makes her feel good.
of course, nothing about him hated anything about what just happened, but… still. same concept.
“besides,” josh continues, interrupting his thoughts, “i think your dick says otherwise.”
tyler burns bright red, knowing there’s nothing he can do to hide his glaringly obvious erection. it’s too late—josh has already seen it.
“i- well- but-” he stammers, heart racing at the way josh smirks at him and hooks his index fingers through his beltloops. “y-yeah, okay. fine. whatever. just… fine.”
fuck. what the hell is he doing? how does he bend to josh’s will so easily? he has to be some type of succubus or something—no way he’s not using some force of evil to make him this pliable.
josh guides him backwards to sit on the bed. “can’t believe you’ve never let a guy suck you off.” he undoes tyler’s jeans, wiggling them down his thighs. “you clearly have experience in that field.”
“shut up,” tyler mutters, lifting his hips as josh takes off his boxers and spreads his legs open to sit between them. “who’re you to judge me?”
“hm,” josh hums. he takes tyler in his fist, thumbing at his slit, making tyler jolt. “you’re leaking all over. you obviously want this.”
tyler leans back on his palm, biting at his knuckles to hold in the pathetic whine that claws at his chest. “sh-shut up.” he gasps as josh licks a stripe along the side of his cock, squeezing his eyes shut. “stop talking.”
he can’t bear to look at josh right now—to see him down on his knees, looking up at him, stroking his cock. fuck. he could cum just thinking about it.
“i know you do,” josh mumbles, lips brushing over his tip. “say it. tell me you want me.”
tyler fucking whimpers , hips bucking, pressing his fingers into his eyelids. he’s so conflicted. there’s not a single part of him that wants to tell josh anything like that—he didn’t even want a blowjob in the first place—but josh blows warm puffs of breath over his slit, and his tongue occasionally darts out to lap at tyler’s precum, and god, fingering him isn’t the only thing his hands are good for.
the longer josh waits, the more he feels like he’s going to cry. from shame? frustration? he doesn’t know. he just can’t take it anymore.
“i hate you,” he whines. “i… fuck. i want you to suck my dick. want it so bad. it hurts. i- god- just… come on, josh.”
his chest burns. he feels pathetic, but at least josh doesn’t make him beg more than that.
he finally gives in, not hesitating to take tyler all the way down his throat—head bobbing, cheeks hallowed, hands forcing tyler’s thighs apart. his mouth’s so warm and so wet that it makes tyler’s head spin.
“oh- nnnh- oh my god,” he rasps, eyes rolling into the back of his skull. “fuck, josh, that’s- fuck.”
josh hums around him, sending tingles down his spine to the tips of his toes. the wet sounds of his mouth gliding over tyler’s cock echoes throughout the room, sounding like they’re on the set of a porno.
it’s too much all at once—josh’s perfect mouth, his fingers digging into tyler’s thighs, his muffled moans like he’s enjoying this just as much. tyler grips the bed with both hands, knuckles turning white, barely able to catch his breath between moans.
he knows it’s a bad idea, but he can’t resist the urge to take a peak.
their eyes meet. the sight of josh like that, with his lips wrapped around tyler’s cock, pretty brown eyes all wet and glazed over… it’s enough to suddenly send tyler over the edge.
“ohhh,” he whines, hips stuttering into josh’s mouth as he cums down his throat.
his climax hits so hard it makes his vision fuzzy, makes his thighs tremble, and his toes curl. josh chuckles around him, earning another whine from tyler, whose ears burn bright red as josh swallows his load.
it’s the best head he’s ever gotten and it lasted a whole of thirty seconds. that’s not fucking embarrassing at all. tyler’s definitely not humiliated.
josh pulls off with a pop , licking his lips in the same way tyler did when he finished. tyler falls backwards on the bed, staring at the ceiling, chest rising and falling with unsteady breaths.
he’s literally never come that fast before. josh is ruining him.
he feels pathetic, and he’s worried josh is going to make fun of him, so he’s quick to move on from it.
“are you gonna tell jenna?” he croaks out, glancing over to where josh stands.
“tell her what?” josh asks, adjusting the hem of his shorts. “you’re not gay.”
he walks out before tyler can think to respond, leaving him with a sinking feeling inside his stomach.
what the fuck just happened?
Chapter 12: tyler's drug of choice
Summary:
tyler goes out with jenna and her friends.
he doesn't realize that includes josh until it's too late.
Notes:
i meant to get this out sooner but was struggling to stay focused :') sorry
thank you all for 6k hits! it seriously means the world to me <3 i loove love love reading all your guys' comments. makes my whole day!
anywaysss i hope you enjoy this one
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
the instant tyler’s eyes open the next morning, everything comes rushing back.
confronting josh, what jake said about him, kissing that girl, kissing josh … and everything that followed. including the part where josh made him beg for it, only for tyler to cum in about thirty seconds.
tyler lies frozen, staring at the ceiling, dread weighing down his limbs.
he would’ve rather blacked out. he wishes he didn’t remember a single thing that happened last night, but unfortunately, he remembers it all . the feel of josh’s mouth on his, the heat of his breath, the sounds he made when tyler went down on him.
the worst part is knowing just how badly he wanted everything that happened. he was desperate to feel josh’s lips on his own. he craved a taste of him.
it was never supposed to lead to what it did, but tyler can’t pretend like he didn’t enjoy it—not when he came so hard, so fast. all he wanted to do was prove to himself that he’s not gay. that he’s normal, and he likes girls like everyone else. that blew up in his face.
his chest is tight, like something has its fingers interlaced with his ribs and is digging its blunt nails into his soft lungs.
does he regret it? no. definitely not. he’d do it again tonight if given the chance. but is he ashamed? absolutely. he hates himself for being this way.
it hurts almost as much as it does to remember josh’s bitter exit last night. tyler doesn’t know why he was so fucking salty. he got what he wanted. he got a blowjob, and tyler let him give him one too. there was no reason for him to be like that.
did he expect tyler to suddenly switch up and invite him to stay or some shit? what, like he’s into josh for anything beyond sex? ha. funny.
tyler exhales heavily, breath sour on his tongue, acting on instinct as he fumbles beneath his pillow for his vape.
what does this mean for him and josh now? he hopes they’ll just go back to ignoring each other and pretending like the other doesn’t exist until the next time they drunkenly meet. maybe they don’t have to talk about it. he’s certainly not going to, so hopefully josh doesn’t bring it up either.
sharp, icy smoke clings to the back of his throat, sinks into his lungs, serving to loosen the grip in his chest. nicotine helps. barely. he thinks about cracking open a beer, but feels so pathetic for even considering it that he changes his mind.
instead, he clambers out of bed, tugging his phone free from the charger, and settles on the loveseat. the leather is cool against his bare legs, sticking to his warm skin. he sits over the coffee table, twisting open his metallic grinder to check its contents. there’s a decent amount of ground bud from the last time he smoked, much to his pleasure.
his life is a series of one substance after another—booze, weed, nicotine. guess caffeine counts too. not to mention the other drugs he’s tried—coke, molly, adderall. they’re a bit too much for him regularly, but he’s not against the occasional bump or pill here or there.
he should probably start considering josh as another substance. something he binges when he’s low and regrets the second it’s over.
sure. booze, weed, nicotine, and josh. all bad for him, but all addictions he can’t kick.
the bong tyler packs is filled with water so dirty it’d probably be enough to kill a small victorian child. he should clean it, but he’s too damn lazy, and he couldn’t care less about what he puts in his body. if it’s anything that’ll kill him quicker, then good. the sooner, the better.
he rips the bong, holding the smoke deep in his lungs before involuntarily coughing it all out. simultaneously, his phone starts buzzing against the wooden table. it’s a call from jenna. great.
teary-eyed, chest burning, he answers, still coughing. “hello?”
“hey!” she chirps. tyler holds the phone an inch from his ear, doubled over in a fit of coughs he doesn’t care to suppress. “just checking in. we’re still going to ethyl tonight, right? for the game?”
fuckkk. he completely forgot he agreed to that.
ethyl & tank is one of the bars off high street, right next to midway. he prefers the latter, but for some reason jenna insisted on ethyl. he only agreed because who is he to say no to food, beer, and football?
oh great. she’s going to want to hook up with him afterwards.
he can’t .
he can’t keep putting himself through this—it’s torture. realistically, he knows no straight guy would dread sleeping with her as much as he does, but he’s not going to let himself think about that one too hard. there doesn’t need to be a reason behind it, he just doesn’t want to have sex with her anymore. who cares about the underlying bullshit?
when the coughing subsides, he says, “yeah, sure. mark’s gonna come too. hope that’s cool.”
he hasn’t said a word to mark about it, but he knows mark will say yes. even if that means tyler has to bully him into it.
“oh,” jenna deflates. “uhh... okay. can my friends come too?”
tyler sighs, manspreading as he leans back against the couch, glancing around the room. everything looks sharper. colors are brighter. he feels a lot lighter inside, though his body feels much heavier now.
“sure, whatever. i don’t give a fuck.”
he doesn’t want to deal with one girl, let alone multiple, but it’s fine. he’ll feel a lot less bad about turning her down later knowing she can just go back home with her friends.
“cool! okay. meet you there at 7?”
“yeah. bye.”
he hangs up before she gets the chance to say anything else, worried she’ll start yapping about pointless nonsense.
before he can think about what’s happening, he’s checking his messages and looking for josh’s name. why? who knows. josh hasn’t texted him anything since the night he blacked out. tyler’s not sure why he navigated to their texts—he was just moving on autopilot.
with a huff, he tosses his phone aside, grabbing the bong again. he’s not nearly numb enough for his liking. better to get ahead of the spiraling than let it sneak up on him.
he just has to keep himself busy with smoking and fortnite until later. it’s just another day doing the same old shit to help him deal with the same old shit. thrilling.
⏭
mark only agreed to go if they went early and ordered appetizers, so here they are—honey barbecue wings, nachos, and onion rings sitting between them.
tyler’s washing it all down with mich ultra. he had a few drinks before they left the house—nothing crazy, but he’s already tipsy. he was sick of waiting around. once his high wore off, he was desperate for something else to numb his miserable existence.
they’re at a table upstairs, away from the gathering crowd below. every bar is overwhelmingly packed on a saturday night, but mix that with it being game night, and you get complete hell. tyler’d rather watch the game at the house with his brothers, but here he is—sitting with mark at a table for four, listening to the roar of the crowd below grow louder with every minute.
while they wait, he and mark make mindless banter about nothing in particular. tyler talks about his math professor that has it out for him. mark mentions the girl he met at uno. apparently they’re some sort of thing now. tyler has to remind himself over and over not to bring up josh.
the game starts a few minutes after seven. there’s still no sign of jenna or her friends. typical of her to be late. it’s one of tyler’s biggest pet peeves, but she doesn’t seem to care.
it’s not until halfway through the first quarter that he sees her pushing through the cluster of people gathered at the top of the stairs, drink in hand. she smiles and waves, and he gives his own tight-lipped smile in return.
then his heart sinks.
the fucking friends she brought are josh and debby. he forgot that was a possibility. didn’t even consider it. he should’ve, given his luck, but it wasn’t a thought in his mind.
she leads them over to the table, smiling at tyler the whole way, but he can’t take his eyes off josh.
he’s got that stupid smug grin on his face. tyler wants to slap it right off him.
why the fuck would he agree to come? given everything that went down literally last night, you’d think he’d have the decency to give tyler a break. but no. he’s a dick. he must be doing this on purpose to torment tyler.
and, boy, is he tormented.
josh is wearing a red ohio state t-shirt and gray sweatpants. his hair’s a mess like usual—fried ends sticking out every which way. basic. normal. or at least, it should be, but tyler thinks he looks so good it makes his heart flutter.
fuck that. if josh is going to torment him, tyler’s going to do it right back.
“where do you want me to sit?” jenna asks, motioning between the two empty chairs. “do we have an extra chair?”
“right here.” tyler scoots his chair back a couple inches and pats his lap.
jenna giggles, taking a seat on his lap before tyler can change his mind. she asks josh to sit next to him so she can rest her legs on him, and thank god for that because tyler would die if he had to spend the rest of the night across from josh.
when he sits, it’s closer than tyler likes. tyler catches a whiff of amber and sandalwood. it’s a scent tyler’s never picked up on before. did he seriously put on fucking cologne to come here? he’s so weird.
jenna’s warm against him. he has one arm around her, holding her hip, and the other rests on her thighs. she’s strewn across both him and josh, with her calves resting on josh’s lap.
“how’s the game?” she asks.
“boring,” mark says, eyes glued to the tv. “nobody’s done shit.”
josh takes an onion ring. tyler scoffs at him.
“who said you could have some?”
“hm?” josh hums around a mouthful of food. he furrows his brows, staring tyler down like he’s challenging him.
it makes his stomach do somersaults, but tyler stares right back. he and mark bought that food for themselves. not for him. the girls can have some if they want, but not josh. screw him.
“he’s fine. calm down.” mark rolls his eyes. “don’t listen to him, josh. you can all have some if you’re hungry. that’s what it’s there for.”
tyler breaks their staring match, but only to glare at mark. mark doesn’t pay him any attention, just goes back to watching the game, sipping his beer. tyler decides to do the same.
it’s only quiet for a minute before josh speaks up.
“crazy night, huh?”
tyler’s heart drops to his ass. he holds his breath, fingers tightening around his glass cup, refusing to look in josh’s direction.
what the fuck is he talking about? why would he say that? what is wrong with him?
“yeah,” mark answers. thank god. “you were at the house, right? thought i saw you at one point or another.”
tyler’s stomach turns. if mark saw him last night, then there’s a good chance he saw the both of them together. maybe he even saw tyler take him upstairs… no. he would’ve said something about it, right?
josh nods. “it was fun. i had a good night.”
heat spreads across tyler’s face. he’s quick to lower his head against jenna’s shoulder, hiding his flushed cheeks. he had a good night, alright. something about knowing what josh is implying while everyone else is clueless makes his chest warm. he kinda loves it.
jenna threads her fingers through his hair. “what about you, ty? how was your night?”
tyler breathes in the scent of her—clean, floral, airy. he wishes he was attracted to it, but it doesn’t please the receptors in his brain the same way the faint smell of josh’s cologne does. fuck. he smells so good.
“it was alright,” he says, lifting his head. he hopes his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “uneventful.”
he refuses to give josh the satisfaction. yes, he had a great night, and yes, he wants nothing more right now than to be able to relive it, but josh doesn’t need to know all that. tyler’s still pissed that he’s even here.
“would’ve been better if you were there,” he adds, squeezing her thigh. as he leans in to kiss her temple, he makes eye contact with josh, who watches with a straight face.
damn. his poker face is good, but tyler isn’t stupid. he knows deep down josh is bothered.
jenna turns to give him a quick kiss, lit up like she’s just been told she won the lottery. tyler feels josh’s eyes on them as their lips meet. “you’re sweet,” she gushes.
he should feel good about it, but all it does is make him crave something stronger. something messier. he’s already itching for his next hit, and josh is sitting five feet away, looking like he doesn’t care.
it’s obvious jenna’s purposely avoiding talking about how her date went. tyler has no idea whether that means she had a good time or it was horrible, but he doesn’t care either way. it kept her away so he could get josh alone—that’s all that matters.
as the conversation drifts back to the game and jenna’s hand rests in his hair, tyler can’t stop watching josh out of the corner of his eye.
he’s still picking at the appetizers like nothing ever happened. like they’re just two guys who ran into each other last night. nothing more.
tyler can’t help himself. he wants to get under josh’s skin in the same way josh is under his.
he eyes the glass in josh’s hand—pink, fruity, a little wedge of lime on the rim.
“that’s cute,” he says, nodding at it.
josh just takes a sip. “it’s good.”
tyler snorts. “yeah. maybe if you’re a bitch.”
nothing.
no laugh, no glare, no comeback.
tyler waits for something—anything. a clenched jaw, an eye roll, even a scoff. but josh just goes back to watching the game, with that same calm that makes tyler feel like he’s spinning while josh is anchored. like tyler’s not even worth the energy.
and for some reason, it makes him hungrier.
tyler pulls jenna tighter against him, fingers trailing down her thigh. he doesn’t want to, but he’s trying to make a point—trying to get back some kind of upper hand, even if it means using jenna like a prop. he kisses her, tasting vodka and artificial fruit on her glossed lips. she giggles, cupping his jaw, unaware he’s only doing this for josh.
not for her. not for himself. just to piss josh off.
when tyler finally pulls away, he catches josh watching.
“what?” he says, draping his arm across jenna’s legs. “got a staring problem?”
josh just raises an eyebrow. “nah,” he says. “just wondering how many times you gotta do that to convince yourself it’s real.”
tyler falters. he swallows hard, glancing across the table. mark’s too busy watching the game to pay attention to their bickering, but debby glares at him just like she did the other day. jenna laughs, not understanding. does debby know what he means? or is she also clueless?
either way—how dare he?
“what the fuck are you talking about?” tyler mutters, jaw clenched tight.
josh shrugs, cool and even. “i don’t know. what am i talking about?”
“i don’t get it,” jenna admits, looking between them. “are you talking about me?”
josh opens his mouth, and tyler’s stomach drops. panic cuts through the anger. he doesn’t know what josh will say, only that he can’t risk it.
“i think you need to shut the fuck up,” he snaps through gritted teeth.
“woah!” mark interjects.
jenna gasps. “jeez, ty.”
he ignores them both, heart racing as he stares josh down. “mind your own fucking business.”
god. he hates josh with everything in him. he hates how easy it was for him to get him worked up like this, while he’s still perfectly calm and collected. even still, he just blinks at tyler, eyebrows raised in surprise, like that wasn’t the exact reaction he wanted to get out of him.
“are you just a dick to everyone tyler?” debby asks.
tyler takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring, trying to cool down. “if they deserve it.”
truthfully, he doesn’t even know who he’s mad at anymore. josh, or himself?
the rest of the night passes in a blur. tyler pretends to care about the game—all while trying to ignore the weight of josh’s eyes on him and swallowing down the urge to pick another fight. he does make a few more snide comments, but josh doesn’t take the bait. not once. he’s too reserved. it pisses tyler off.
when ohio state scores the game-winning touchdown, the whole bar erupts. people jump to their feet, shouting, cheering, spilling drinks. tyler lets jenna tug him into a kiss, but all he can think about is josh.
it’s pathetic—he knows it is—but he feels strung out anyway. aching, starving, like his body’s detoxing from something that’s still right beside him. he’s never been this close to a high he can’t have.
when things quiet down and the crowd starts to dwindle, tyler has a headache. his jaw aches from clenching it all night. he’s exhausted and wants nothing more than to crawl into bed and let sleep take him.
as they stand to leave, all in agreement that the night’s over, jenna’s voice startles him.
“can i come back to the house with you?” she asks, all shy and blushy. he knows exactly what she’s asking for.
he has to physically fight the urge to groan. “uhh… nah. you can go with your friends. s’cool.”
“no, it’s fine,” josh speaks up. tyler fantasizes about shoving him to the ground and choking him until he turns blue. “don’t worry about us. you guys go.”
jenna giggles. “okay. ty?”
tyler stares a hole through josh. he’s livid. all he wants to do is go home alone and put an end to this miserable day. he put up with josh all night to save himself from this fate, yet here he is—still going home with her.
he holds back a sigh and forces a smile. “yeah. awesome. thanks, man.”
“anytime,” josh grins.
tyler could kill him. really. he wouldn’t even feel guilty about it.
outside the bar, they say their goodbyes. jenna tells josh and debby she’ll see them tomorrow. tyler manages a curt nod. josh tells them to have fun, and tyler finds enough bitterness in his heart to choke out a, “we will.”
they part ways—debby and josh in one direction, and them in the other. mark and jenna lead, walking side-by-side, chatting about something tyler can’t be bothered to tune into.
he’s still caught up on josh. still fiending for more. not quite satisfied.
he sends a text.
i hope u know i seriously hate ur fucking guts.
josh’s response comes a few seconds later.
feeling’s mutual.
Chapter 13: new bedroom decor
Summary:
tyler finally gets a win.
then everything goes to shit.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
sunday’s hangover isn’t from alcohol—tyler wishes it were.
physically, he’s fine. no headache, no nausea. just a dry mouth and a craving for cold water.
his brain, though? completely fucked.
jenna’s fast asleep beside him, in the clothes he let her wear to bed because he couldn’t stomach the thought of sleeping beside her naked. her hair’s strewn over the pillow, a strand resting over her cheek and sticking to her chapped lips.
tyler breathes a soft sigh, swallowing the lump in his throat as he tentatively brushes the hair off her face. she barely even stirs—just licks her lips and goes motionless again.
he can’t help but stare. she’s perfect, and pretty, and it just… doesn’t do it for tyler. why doesn’t he feel anything for her? she doesn’t make his heart race. she doesn’t make his chest warm. she doesn’t make his dick hard.
but you know who does?
tyler rolls onto his back, staring up at that dreaded ceiling like he’ll somehow find the answers there.
he can’t be gay. he doesn’t want to be gay. he’s been with too many girls to be gay. he’s not.
but… the evidence is pretty damning. it took him forever to get hard last night. took even longer to cum. he couldn’t achieve either without closing his eyes and thinking about josh.
the thought makes his stomach twist.
he grabs his vape from beneath his pillow, taking a hit as he rolls over to unplug his phone.
fucking josh. this is all his fault. he’s the one who sent jenna home with tyler. he’s the one who’s secretly sleeping with the guy his friend likes. he’s the one quickly becoming another substance for tyler to depend on. he hates it.
josh is bad for him. brings nothing good into tyler’s life.
tyler hates him.
...and he can’t get enough.
so, tyler—who’s well familiar to the game of self-sabotage—can’t help but text josh.
i hope u had a shitty night.
he’s not sure what kind of response he’s hoping for. provoking josh enough is sure to get a reaction out of him eventually, right? maybe that’s all this is. tyler’s fixated on getting josh to break. yeah. he’s determined to be the one who wins.
josh texts back within the same minute.
my night was great thanks for asking!
tyler huffs, shaking his head in disbelief. this fucking guy. the level of self-control he must hold to not have snapped at tyler by now is insane. it’s impressive. it only makes tyler want to try harder.
josh double texts before he can think of a reply.
how was yours?
tyler squints at the screen in suspicion, reading it over a few times. he can’t be genuinely asking. no way. he’s definitely taunting him. well, jokes on him, because tyler isn’t going to let him know how deep the pit in his stomach currently is.
it was good
was it?
yep
probably would’ve been better if i was there though, right?
the text is so out of left field it makes tyler gasp. heat creeps up his neck, slowly spreading across his cheeks. he purses his lips, refusing to give in to the smile forcing its way out.
what the fuck is wrong with him? josh is sick in the head. he’s demented.
…but so is tyler.
idk would it?
you tell me
hmm nah
oh yeah?
mhm
if that’s what you have to tell yourself
fuck. what are they doing? why is tyler letting this happen? he should stop responding.
ur not special
and you’re a bad liar
do YOU even believe yourself half the time?
stfu
ur annoying
u don’t know anything ab me
you’re not as hard to read as you think
tyler’s breath catches. he sets his phone face-down on the bed and sits up, swinging his legs over the side as he buries his face in his palms.
he needs to stop. this is bad. this is so bad.
what is he thinking? he’s entering dangerous territory here, going back-and-forth with josh like this. it opens the door to more. he doesn’t want more.
he doesn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t.
tyler slowly rises, careful not to shake the bed. the longer he can put off dealing with jenna, the better.
he’s silent as he opens and carefully shuts the bedroom door to make his way to the bathroom. the cold water he splashes on his face does little to calm his racing thoughts, though it helps soothe his nervous system. he brushes his teeth before going back to his room, still quiet as he tiptoes to grab his phone from the bed.
there’s another message from josh.
i just don’t think anyone’s taken the time to try
tyler’s chest burns.
wtf are u talking about?
he wishes he didn’t understand, but he does, and it hurts. josh is right, and they both know it, and tyler hates him for it. he hates how much he wants to be seen. hates that he won’t let himself be seen. hates how easily josh sees him.
you know exactly what i’m talking about
you’re not stupid
no but you are
and ur fucking weird quit texting me leave me alone
this time, the phone gets sat face-down on his dresser while tyler rummages through it to find something to wear.
when it buzzes, his heart flutters, but he leaves it for now to get dressed. he puts on his black kdr hoodie and ties the strings into a bow, then swaps his boxers out for a clean pair and pulls on gray sweatpants. he covers his unkempt hair with a backwards ohio state hat and takes a deep breath before checking his phone.
don’t act like you don’t like it
i don’t
i hate you
why do you keep responding then?
“fuck,” tyler whispers to himself, thumbs hovering over his phone’s keyboard. he doesn’t have a good excuse.
ihysfm
still responding
holy shit ur so annoying
still responding :)
“who’re you texting?”
jenna’s voice makes him jump. he forgot she was even there. he was just in his own little world.
“jesus christ,” he mutters, clutching his racing heart, feeling like he’s just been caught doing something bad. “what’re you, my fucking girlfriend? none of your business.”
would you rather me ignore u? cuz i can
“why are you so mean sometimes?”
i never said that. you’re the one who said to quit texting and leave you alone
tyler rolls his eyes, too busy typing his reply to even bother looking at jenna as he says, “why’re you so annoying?”
ohhh so u want me to keep texting you
is there something wrong with that?
idk yet. maybe
the real answer is yes, definitely, but tyler’s still trying to keep up his facade.
“i didn’t even do anything to you,” jenna grumbles. she sits up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “who pissed in your cheerios?”
tyler side-eyes her. “you can go now, but i want my clothes back first.”
why maybe?
“seriously?” jenna scoffs.
tyler doesn’t give a shit about her right now. he’s too caught up in his texts with josh. nothing else matters.
maybe i don’t want u to want me texting u
too late
you’re a lot more tolerable over text
so u admit i annoy u
you’re annoying alright
tyler cracks a smirk. finally. he wins.
“here.” jenna chucks his clothes at him, wadded up in a ball. they hit him with a soft thud before falling to the ground. “take them. i don’t want them anyway. you’re such an asshole.”
tyler rolls his eyes. “if i’m such an asshole then why do you stick around?”
but nothing i can’t handle
jesus. why is tyler’s face so hot right now? is josh… flirting with him? that’s what this is, right? they’re flirting. weird. gross. tyler likes it. he hates it. he wants more.
“can’t you see i’m in love with you?”
jenna shouts it so suddenly, tyler flinches. he gapes at her, eyes wide, slowly lowering his phone into his pocket.
she can’t be serious.
love? is that what she thinks this is? is her idea of love that severely fucked up?
for a half-second, something inside him stutters—wishes he could say it back, wishes it could be that simple.
but it’s not. he doesn’t.
“in love with me?” tyler repeats, chuckling at the absurdity of it. “you don’t even fucking know me. you think you do, but you don’t. you don’t love me. you just love that i give you attention. you love whoever you think i am.”
it comes out a lot more harsh than he intends. he’s just trying to be honest, to help her realize there’s no fucking world where she loves him. she doesn’t even know anything about him. not her fault, of course. she tries. tyler just doesn’t let her in.
does he want to hurt her? no. does he want to squash the idea of her loving him as quick as possible? yes. so if that means hurting her, then so be it.
“what?” she whispers, tears shimmering in her eyes. “you- i- but-”
“i don’t love you.” he says it flatly, but guilt gnaws at his chest. it makes him sick to admit it. he wishes he loved her. what he wouldn’t give to feel the same way… but he just doesn’t. he can’t. she needs to know that. she deserves that much at least.
“you- you-” she stammers, breath stuttering as she inhales deeply. “you don’t?”
tyler chuckles nervously, palms sweating. “what, did you think i did?”
“fuck you.”
tyler blinks in disbelief. he’s never seen her this worked up before.
“i can’t believe you. what, you were just keeping me around like i’m some sort of toy, then? just using me?”
tyler clenches his teeth, the familiar pit of rage billowing deep in his chest. “you fucking serious? you were always the one coming onto me . i never asked for this. you kept coming back. i think i made it pretty fucking clear that i never wanted you.”
“oh my god,” jenna says, voice trembling as tears stream silently down her cheeks. “you- but- you let me! you- i-”
“i’m not your fucking dad,” tyler scoffs. “i didn’t ‘let’ you do anything. you’re a grown fucking adult. you made your own choices. don’t blame me.”
it’s a low blow. she’s told him all about her daddy issues. something about him never being there and when he was all he did was put her down. tyler always thought it was funny she chased after him because of how accurately that description fits himself, but hey—who is he to judge?
“oh, really? okay. i can’t believe you just said that. there’s something wrong with you, tyler. you need help.”
she storms out, leaving him alone.
tyler has his fists balled up at his sides. he stares straight ahead at the wall she had been standing in front of, frozen in place.
holy shit.
there is something wrong with him. so much. too much.
maybe he does need help. she’s right.
he’s so fucked up.
if he were normal, he’d love her too. if he were normal, he wouldn’t be so mean to everybody. if he were normal, he wouldn’t need to spend most days of the week sedated. if he were normal, he wouldn’t hate himself as much as he does.
but he’s not normal.
he’s not. and he never will be, no matter how much he wishes he was.
“fuck!”
white-hot pain pulses through his hand as his knuckles collide with the wall, sending his fist through the drywall. it stuns him for a second, his brain lagging, trying to process the fact that he just punched a hole straight through it.
the sharp jolt dulls to a throbbing ache as he pulls his hand away, opening and closing his fist a few times to assess the damage. his knuckles are already swollen and bright red, but nothing feels broken.
it hurts enough to take his mind off everything, at least. for now.
the anger’s gone—dispelled through his fist, apparently—and all that remains now is a burning numbness, but that’s okay. numb is good. that’s what he wants.
on his way to the loveseat, tyler grabs a beer from his mini fridge, popping the tab and taking a gulp as he sits. he digs his phone from his back pocket, tossing it on the table, chest tightening as he remembers he was in the middle of texting josh.
so much for that. he was stupid for even entertaining it.
the same filthy water sits inside tyler’s bong as he takes a hit, enjoying the soothing warmth of thc flooding his body from the inside out. he erupts in a coughing fit, patting his chest until it subsides, then takes another hit, desperate to overload himself until he’s so high he can’t think.
he’ll clear the bowl and finish the beer he opened. sit right here and pass out on the couch. wake up and do it all over.
he’ll do everyone a favor and never leave this room again.
jenna deserves better than him. josh does too.
and tyler? he deserves to be alone.
Notes:
so anyway
i decided to make rp twitter accounts bcuz the thought of interacting with everyone as tyler & josh makes me giggle it's gonna be so fun :') i'll link them below
Chapter 14: aliens and unicorns
Summary:
mark forces tyler out of his room.
josh talks a whole lot of nonsense, but tyler finds that he likes listening.
Notes:
nearly 7k words for your reading pleasure *tips hat*
also warning you now that there's passive suicidal ideation and mentions of suicide in this chapter. it's pretty light and brief but yeah
enjoy!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
BANG, BANG, BANG.
tyler jolts at the sound of someone knocking on his door like the damn feds.
he’s five beers deep, in the middle of a fortnite match on an empty stomach. he hasn’t really eaten since sunday. most of his calories this week have come from mich ultra.
“what?” he shouts back, eyes narrowed as he searches the pixels on his monitor for other players.
“it’s mark. can i come in?”
tyler groans. “no. leave me the fuck alone.”
he’s already told him this twice today. and the day before that. and the day before that .
mark just won’t give up—it doesn’t matter how much tyler yells at him to stop.
the doorknob rattles, but it’s locked.
“enough of this shit, man. let me in.”
in the past few days, tyler’s only left his room for a handful of reasons: to use the bathroom, to get more beer, and occasionally to grab a snack. that’s it. he hasn’t gone to a single class even though midterms are next week.
“i said leave me alone, dude,” he grumbles, not fully paying attention as someone in the game starts shooting at him while he’s completely out in the open. he jumps around like an idiot trying to dodge them, only to end up dead. “god dammit, mark. fuck you.”
he can hear mark’s smile in his voice. “you die?”
“shut up.”
“good. come unlock this door or i’ll break it down myself.”
“you wouldn’t,” tyler says, knowing it for certain but still abandoning his computer anyway. mark stands on the other side of the door, sloppy grin in place. tyler scowls at him. “what do you want?”
“what the hell’s up with you?” mark wastes no time. he shoulders his way past tyler, taking a quick sweep of the room. “dude.”
tyler hasn’t cared much about the state of his room until now. his hamper is overflowing with laundry, with a growing pile at the foot of his bed. every flat surface is littered with empty bottles of mich ultra, food wrappers, and dead vapes. his dirty bong is the centerpiece on the coffee table, and on his desk sits an ashtray with a few old roaches.
“did you come in here just to judge me?” tyler mutters, sitting back at his desk. he spins in the chair to face mark, who tentatively takes a seat on the edge of his bed.
“no. i’m worried about you. you haven’t answered any of my texts.”
they have a stare-off.
tyler knows mark’s been trying to text him—he’s seen them all, he just couldn’t find the strength to respond. acknowledging mark’s worries means acknowledging there’s something wrong means acknowledging how fucked up tyler is.
mark’s not the only one he’s been ignoring.
jenna has tried texting him over and over to apologize. every time he’d get a new notification of her begging for forgiveness, guilt ate at his stomach more and more. he’d flash with anger, then quickly remember it’s not her that he’s angry with, but himself.
he can’t give her what she wants. can’t be the guy she wants him to be.
but oh how he wishes he could.
“i’m fine,” tyler says flatly.
“what happened?”
tyler sighs. mark’s not going to leave him alone now that he’s weasled his way in. he’s annoying like that.
he can’t tell him the full truth. no way. he settles for, “jenna broke up with me.”
“i thought you guys weren’t together?” mark frowns.
“we weren’t,” tyler mutters, dragging a palm down his face. “i don’t fucking know. it’s complicated.”
what an understatement.
it has nothing to do with jenna and their breakup — if you can even call it that. sure, it worries tyler to think he may no longer have a crutch to fall back on, but that’s not what he cares most about.
the shit jenna said to him—it really was a wakeup call.
all he does is hurt people who don’t deserve it.
there’s something wrong with him. not just in the confused-about-my-identity way, but fundamentally .
he’s messed up to the core.
has he always been this way? will always be this way?
mark’s quiet, eyeing the fresh hole in the wall. after a moment, he asks, “you okay?”
the question’s so pointless all tyler can do is laugh.
of course he’s not okay.
he’s spent the last three days holed up in his room, drinking himself unconscious and smoking himself into oblivion, trying to come to terms with everything. his brain is waging a war with itself trying to discern who he is. why he is.
all he’s been able to do is numb himself and distract with video games so he can’t think about how badly he wants to die. how much he wishes he was never born. how much he wants a meteor to strike him dead.
if he just died, he wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore. he wouldn’t have to feel this way. it’d be easier than whatever the fuck this is.
“i’m fine,” he tells mark.
the hole in the drywall laughs at him. the empty beer bottles mock him. mark looks at him like he’s fragile china. tyler hates it, makes his skin burn.
“okay.” he gives tyler that look—the one that says ‘i don’t believe you’. “will you at least come out with me tonight for midway madness?”
it’s a special at midway every wednesday—$1 wells, $1 bombs. tyler’d rather just drink beer, but he’s not opposed to rum and coke and jägerbombs. plus, mark looks so excited at even just the idea of it that tyler can’t turn him down. he already feels guilty enough for everything else.
“fine,” he concedes, lips twitching at the wide grin that spreads across mark’s face. “i gotta shower and get ready and then we can go.”
“hell yeah.” mark stands to clap him on the shoulder, giving him a light shake. “we’ll forget all about it tonight.”
tyler gives a weak smile. “okay,” he says.
he really hopes that’s the case.
⏭
it doesn’t matter how much tyler drinks—he’s not having a good time.
not including all the beer he had beforehand, he’s already done jägerbombs with mark and finished two rum and cokes. he’s got a third in hand, slowly sipping the cool drink like it’ll help ease the heat simmering in the pit of his stomach.
the bar is stuffy, crowded with other students who’re even drunker than he is. he’s barely even tipsy. somehow, it feels like no matter how much he drinks, it’s just not touching him.
all it’s doing is making him feel worse.
he’s hanging out with mark, and they’re talking and singing along to the songs blaring over the speakers, but he’s not really… there. he’s in his head, not present in the moment. every once in a while he remembers to force a smile or bark out a laugh, but none of it’s genuine. it’s only for show—just to keep mark off his back.
shortly after getting to midway, they run into the girl mark’s been seeing. lindsay, tyler learns is her name. she seems nice. she’s cute. funny. rolls with the punches tyler sends her way and throws them right back—just like mark always does. they’re perfect for each other.
they try their best to not make him feel like a third wheel—he doesn’t, for the most part—but seeing them together just reminds him of how utterly alone he is and will forever be.
even here, overwhelmed by sticky floors and pulsing music, with his best friend by his side... tyler is alone.
none of the people surrounding him can touch him when he’s tucked himself so deeply into the recesses of his skull. all that exists is tyler and the black hole inside him, sucking in and absorbing any ounce of joy before he gets the chance to grab and hold onto it.
“hey,” tyler shouts over the music, interrupting whatever mark’s trying to tell lindsay. “gotta piss. i’ll be back.”
“we’ll be here,” mark says.
tyler nods, the corner of his lips lifting in a small smile that he can’t be bothered to mirror with his eyes. he navigates through the crowd, eyes lowered, hoping not to attract the attention of anyone he might know.
the bathroom is barely big enough for a few people. tyler locks himself in the only stall, setting his plastic cup on the back of the toilet. the metal wall of the stall is hard against tyler’s back as he leans against it, dropping his face to his hands.
what the fuck is he doing here? he shouldn’t have agreed to come. he wasn’t ready to leave the safety of his room yet.
now here he is, eyes full of tears, trying not to fall apart in a dirty bar bathroom. not an ideal place to meltdown like this, but he doesn’t have a choice.
a sob builds in his chest. he clamps his hand over his mouth, silencing the sound as it rips out of him.
he’s fucked up, and unloveable, and broken.
in a haze of tears and desperation, he fumbles with his phone, reaching out to the only person he can possibly fathom speaking to right now.
i don’t know what’s wrong with me
i’m sorry for everything
i’m a horrible person
the delivered receipt turns to read in a matter of seconds. tyler doesn’t know why josh was the first and only person that crossed his mind, but it’s too late now to regret it. all he can do is hope josh doesn’t hate him enough to ignore him.
he feels another sob coming, but he tries to breathe through it.
he waits for the three-dot bubble to indicate josh typing to appear, but it never does. instead, his phone starts rapidly vibrating with a call, josh’s name across the top of the screen.
fuck.
tyler grabs his drink and downs the rest of it in one go, cringing at the rum burning the back of his throat. he leaves his empty cup there and speed-walks outside the bar where it’s calm and quiet.
the cool october air startles his lungs and eases the knot in his chest, skin prickling with goosebumps. he shivers lightly, hesitating for a second before answering the call.
“hello?”
“hey,” josh sighs. he sounds relieved. “you good? you’re not gonna kill yourself, right?”
“what?” tyler croaks. his face heats up like he’s been caught in a lie. “i- what? no. i’m just- i- no. sorry. i’m fine. i don’t even know why i texted you. sorry.”
it’s quiet on the other line. josh’s voice is soft when he speaks. “jenna told me about your guys’ fight.”
tyler grinds his teeth, willing the tears in his eyes to subside. he blinks rapidly, using his free hand to scratch repetitive lines over his arm. “i don’t know what happened,” he admits in a small voice. “i just- i blew up. i blew up on her, and i don’t know what’s wrong with me, and i don’t… i don’t want to be this.”
“be what?” there’s some shuffling on the other line. “what do you mean?”
“me,” tyler emphasizes, voice trembling. “i don’t want to be me.”
all he hears on the other line is movement, like josh is fumbling around. for a second, he considers taking it all back and playing it off like a joke. he could hang up and pretend like this never happened. he almost would rather do that than sit here in the stretch of silence that follows his pathetic confession.
then—the jingle of keys.
“i’m coming to pick you up,” josh says. there’s the sound of a door closing.
“what?” tyler chokes out, glancing at a few drunk girls as they pass by giggling. “no. no. you cannot come pick me up. what if… no. you’re not.” he wants to ask, ‘ what if someone sees? ’ but the words die on his tongue. that possibility doesn’t seem all too important right now.
“yes i am,” josh counters, the sound of an ignition roaring to life in the background. “where are you?”
“uh, i’m at midway, but-”
“i’ll be there soon. be ready.”
“fuck,” tyler mutters to himself. is this really happening right now? they’re doing this? “fine. i’ll wait outside.”
he hangs up and rushes back inside, grumbling about having to show the bouncer his fake id again in order to be allowed re-entry. waste of time. he watched tyler leave. he knows he was already inside. he’s just being a dick.
mark didn’t lie—he and lindsay are exactly where tyler left them.
“hey,” he shouts, grabbing mark’s shoulder and leaning in to speak directly in his ear. “jenna’s coming to pick me up. i gotta go.”
“really?” mark laughs, patting tyler on the back. “good for you, man. knew you guys would get over it. have fun.”
tyler forces a tight-lipped grin. does he feel guilty for lying to mark? of course. does that matter right now when josh is about to be there? not at all.
“thanks, bro. see you.”
they dap each other up before tyler maneuvers his way back outside.
he stands on the curb for only a minute or so before an old, slightly beat-up, black nissan altima pulls up. before tyler can grab the passenger door handle, josh is opening it from the inside, leaning fully across the center console.
“hey,” he greets as tyler slides in, teeth on display in a wide smile, like he hasn’t just found tyler unraveling.
tyler swallows hard. the inside of the vehicle smells like vanilla—a little trees air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. it’s pretty much spotless aside from an empty water bottle in the cupholder.
tyler forces his gaze straight ahead as he buckles up, heart racing, afraid to take even a peek in josh’s direction. “hey.”
music plays faintly over the speakers. tyler can just barely make it out to be a linkin park song—a band he secretly loves but would never dare tell his brothers.
he expects josh to say something—anything—about what he said over the phone. to ask why the hell tyler decided to text him, of all people. it’d be the most rational thing to do.
but josh doesn’t. he just turns the music up a few notches and takes off down the road, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the song.
tyler’s skin burns with anxiety. he feels uncomfortable, hands tucked between his thighs, but he’s not sure if it’s only him overthinking. he’s still like a statue, peering out the front windshield, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
now what?
“where are we going?” he finds the courage to ask.
“you hungry?” josh asks. he doesn’t wait for tyler’s response. “because i am. let’s get pizza.”
tyler, acting on instinct, opens his mouth to protest, but falls short of words. his stomach growls as if to say, ‘hey idiot, you haven’t had a real meal in days. get the pizza.”
defeated, he sinks into the polyester seat. “okay.”
⏭
the car rolls to a stop behind josh’s apartment. tyler had no idea he lives so close to the frat house. it’s only a few blocks, probably under a ten minute walk.
the pizza is hot against his lap, an unopened tallboy of mich ultra that josh got for him cold in his grip. all the drinks he inhaled at midway have been slowly catching up to him. his vision’s slightly blurred around the edges, feet tingling, chest warm and fuzzy. finally, he feels something other than hopeless.
josh kills the engine, leaving them in silence.
“you good?” he asks tyler.
tyler eyes the three-story building and its slightly-worn, beige brick exterior. “s’it weird for me to be here?”
“what? dude, it’s not weird for two guys to hang out.”
are they just two guys hanging out, though? are they?
“so your roommates won’t think anything?” tyler asks.
josh rolls his eyes like he’s annoyed, but the smile on his lips says otherwise. “no. besides, it’s past midnight—they’re all asleep. and we’re going outside, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“outside? it’s cold.”
“i’ll give you a jacket.” josh shrugs, and tyler’s face heats up at the idea of wearing something of josh’s. he opens his mouth to decline, say that he’ll be fine, but josh cuts in. “come on.”
he exits the car, leaving tyler sitting in there alone, lower lip tucked between his teeth.
should he be doing this? he’s close enough to the house that he can easily just walk home, tell josh thanks but nevermind, and hope he never brings it up again. as much as the pressure in his chest lightens just from josh’s presence, he’d still rather be alone. he’s not in the mood for people.
tyler grabs the handle of the car door, but before he can push it, josh is pulling it open for him.
“oh,” he murmurs, taking a deep breath of the cool night air like it’ll suppress the heat creeping up his neck. “thanks…”
“here, let me take that.”
josh lifts the box of pizza from his lap. tyler offers a tight-lipped smile as he slides out of the car, his brain failing him as goosebumps form over his bare skin. he means to tell josh that he’s alright, that he’s going to just go home, but the words stay buried in his throat.
“there’s no elevator,” josh says, leading tyler to the back door, “but the stairs aren’t bad.”
tyler nods, mute like a dumbass. he doesn’t know why he can’t find his words, why he feels all shy and nervous. he just can’t really believe this is happening right now—that he’s about to enter josh’s apartment for the first time. it feels a whole lot more significant than he wants to admit.
they take the three flights of stairs slowly thanks to tyler’s growing inebriation. he heavily relies on the railing to keep himself steady, forcing his eyes down towards his feet rather than on josh a few steps ahead.
the third floor of josh’s apartment opens to a living room and kitchen, as well as a hallway straight ahead. he heads for the door on the leftmost wall and tyler quietly follows, surprised to find it leads to a rooftop deck.
when josh said they’d be outside, he didn’t expect this. something cozy, maybe. not a wooden deck barren of all outdoor furniture aside from a plastic folding table and some string lights wrapped around the wooden fence posts.
tyler’s already chilly, and the ice-cold tallboy in hand only makes it worse. the warm fairy lights strung around the deck exude minimal light, and they’re not close enough to the main road to suffer the consequences of harsh street lights and neon signs. that means there’s little outshining the dim light of the distant stars above.
josh sets the pizza box on the table. the only other thing on it is a black ashtray with a few stubbed out roaches. tyler raises an eyebrow at it.
“yeah, i don’t come out here really,” josh says. “just at night sometimes. my roommates smoke out here, hence the…” he gestures at the ashtray.
tyler cracks a smile. “really? your roommates smoke and you don’t? you’re such a loser.”
josh shakes his head, smile matching tyler’s, leading him back inside. “maybe you’re all the losers for smoking. ever think of that?”
“nah, it’s you.”
“yeah, okay.”
tyler sways slightly, following him around like a lost puppy, down the hallway to the furthest door on the right.
josh’s room is small, but cozy. he’s got a full-sized bed pushed up against the wall, with a slanted ceiling overtop it. his bed is neatly made, plain black comforter to go with the random assortment of posters on the wall above—x files and various bands, as well as some aliens and space-themed images. just past the foot of the bed, a skylight looks through the slanted ceiling to the sky above.
on the opposite wall—the same one as the door—is a neatly organized wooden desk, josh’s backpack slung over the back of the computer chair. atop it is a large corkboard with tens of photos of josh and other people tyler doesn’t know thumb-tacked to it.
it’s all so… josh. it makes sense for him to have a clean, organized room. he would have funkopops stacked on top of his dresser and random knickknacks of aliens, astronauts, and the like scattered around.
josh goes to the closet beside the desk and pulls out a quilt, then a gray zip-up sweatshirt, handing the latter to tyler. tyler holds it up, reading ohio state physics club on the back.
“you’re lame,” he comments as he pulls it on, hoping it’ll distract from the blush reddening his cheeks. the sweatshirt is a bit loose on him, but comfy. it smells like laundry detergent and lavender.
he knows it’s stupid, but he feels all giddy to be wearing josh’s sweatshirt, like it means something more than face value. is this how jenna feels whenever he lets her wear his clothes? is that why she likes it so much?
josh only responds with the click of his tongue. he motions for tyler to follow him once more, so tyler does, letting josh lead him back onto the deck. he’s much warmer with the thick fabric of josh’s sweatshirt wrapped around him.
josh lays the quilt out on the wooden planks, fixing the corners where they bunch up. he motions for tyler to sit, so he does, sliding off his vans and pulling his legs in criss-cross style. he cracks open his beer and takes a sip while josh sets the pizza box on the blanket.
“be right back,” he says, slipping back inside.
now alone, tyler takes a moment to reflect.
he texted josh shit he probably shouldn’t have, then josh decided to come pick him up, and they got pizza together, and now they’re about to sit under the stars and… do what? eat? talk?
it’s really thoughtful—josh is too kind—but tyler doesn’t want to talk. he doesn’t have anything to say, and he’d rather die than tell josh what’s going on, so hopefully josh isn’t expecting that.
he comes back a few moments later with two bottles of water, puts one beside tyler, then sits on the blanket with the pizza box between them. tyler eyes the water like it’s poisoned, choosing to continue drinking his beer, even though all the drinks are really hitting him.
everything appears out of focus as josh opens the pizza box and takes a slice. tyler’s mouth waters, his stomach begging for sustenance. he grabs himself a slice and folds it in half, eyes rolling into the back of his skull as the warm, gooey cheese meets his tongue.
“good?” josh asks. he chuckles at the enthusiastic nod tyler gives him. “i love this place. their pizza’s the best.”
tyler hums, too busy stuffing his face to respond. he figures maybe if he keeps his mouth full, josh won’t bring up the texts, or jenna, or anything tyler worries he might.
“you know,” josh starts, swallowing his current bite before continuing, “when we look up there, we’re looking back in time.”
tyler follows his gaze to the sky, taking in the dim, twinkling stars and the pale crescent moon.
“the moonlight we see is just over a second old. sunlight? eight minutes. polaris?” tyler follows as josh points at the brightest star in the sky. “433 years. that means if something were to happen to it, we wouldn’t see the effects until 433 years later. isn’t that awesome?”
tyler gapes at the star, struggling to grasp that. “sorta scary. the universe is massive.”
“scary, but beautiful,” josh says.
he’s still peering into the vastness, lips curled in a slight smile. tyler’s more interested in watching him watch the stars than watching them himself.
josh’s warm brown eyes twinkle in the same way as polaris. his smooth skin is pale like the moon. his smile golden like the sun. a constellation of freckles lines his shoulders. his pull is stronger than gravity.
it makes sense for josh to study the universe—he is one: a beautiful, larger-than-life force, so mysterious and captivating that even those who fear it can’t help but be drawn in.
“yeah,” tyler says quietly, mapping the curve of josh’s face.
josh catches his eyes and tyler quickly looks away, cheeks burning, heart pounding.
fuck. okay. josh is really cute.
“yeah,” josh echoes. they sit in silence for a minute, gazing at the stars, listening to the distant hum of life in northern columbus. “what do you think’s out there?”
this is not where tyler assumed their conversation would go. he was sure josh would poke and prod and demand answers, but he’s not. he’s just being normal—acting as if it’s not tyler beside him, but someone else. a friend.
tyler swallows the lump in his throat. for the first time in a long time, he’s not stuck up in his head, and it’s nice. he’s not questioning himself. not ridiculing himself for looking at josh for too long, or for thinking he looks nice in the soft light.
he feels… content.
“i dunno,” he says softly, tossing his crust in the box and grabbing another slice of pizza. “but we can’t be alone, right?”
“we can’t be,” josh agrees. “the observable universe is 93 billion light-years in diameter—and that’s just what we know about. all that space alone has so much potential for alien life.”
“what’s beyond that?” tyler asks.
he can see the gears turning in josh’s head.
“that’s the thing—we don’t know. we assume it’s just more space. more galaxies. but we can’t receive any light beyond the observable universe, so there’s no way of knowing for sure. there could be other big bangs happening all the way out there, and we’ll never know.”
god, he’s such a nerd.
it’s really fucking cute.
tyler’s all smiley listening to him go off on a tangent about the limitless possibilities of what lies beyond our universe. he doesn’t really care, but josh clearly does, so he listens quietly, switching back and forth between eating the pizza and drinking his beer.
“then there’s the issue that everything we’re looking at in the universe is in the past. even if we did discover life somewhere else, by the time we know about it, that planet may very well be destroyed in a supernova explosion or swallowed by a black hole.”
tyler nods even though he’s barely grasping the concept. it all hurts his brain, which is already only semi-functioning from all the alcohol he’s consumed.
“i’m not sure what you believe in,” josh says, “but whether god exists or not doesn’t make a difference. if we’re here, then it’s possible there’s others out there.”
“do you believe in god?” tyler asks, curiosity getting the better of him.
“i used to, but not really anymore. knowing everything i know now makes it hard to still believe. i think it’s possible there’s a god, but i don’t think he’s anything like what we’re taught.”
“what do you mean?”
josh smiles at him. “if there’s a god, i don’t think he’s omniscient, omnibenevolent, or omnipotent.”
tyler blinks a few times. “what?”
“that’s what i learned in the philosophy class i took,” josh laughs. “that the existence of god suggests he’s all-knowing, all-good, and all-powerful. i don’t think that’s the case. in fact, i know it’s not. it can’t be.”
tyler’s head hurts. he doesn’t have a clue what josh is talking about, but he looks pretty while doing it, so he keeps listening.
“i don’t believe in heaven and hell. i don’t think there’s anything waiting for us when we die. i think our matter returns to the stars from which we came.”
now, that , is finally english tyler can understand. “you don’t believe in heaven and hell?”
“pfft,” josh puffs, waving his hand. “that’s all fairytales. nobody’s getting sent to eternal damnation. and even if they are, it’d be serial killers and pedophiles and stuff. it won’t be over something as trivial as who we love.”
he smiles at tyler, making his stomach soar with butterflies. the way just says it makes it sound like a simple fact, but tyler’s not so sure. he wants to believe that—it’d make his life a whole hell of a lot easier—but it’s the first time he’s ever had someone tell him that god isn’t going to send him to hell for liking boys.
“did you know,” josh suddenly grabs tyler’s arm, making him jump, “we’ve sent messages into space in the hopes that extraterrestrials will find them one day?” his eyes are wide, lit up with wonder. “so there’s the chance that, even after we’re gone, others will know we were here. they sent pictures and music and sounds from earth, and stuff. isn’t that awesome?”
the sudden topic switch makes tyler feel dizzy. he eyes josh’s fingers wrapped around his forearm and licks his lips, cleaning them free of pizza sauce. “s’pretty cool. what’d the messages say?”
“i don’t actually know. one second.” josh digs his phone out of his pocket. tyler debates grabbing a third slice of pizza. “okay, here.”
josh closes the box and pushes it out from between them, making up tyler’s mind for him. no more pizza it is.
josh scoots closer, pressing their arms together. the sudden contact makes tyler’s heart jolt. josh presents his phone, showing tyler a bright white screen with tons of tiny black text.
tyler squints, head spinning from all of the different forces working against him. “i can’t fucking read that, dude. holy shit. why’s your screen so bright?”
he takes josh’s phone from his hands, holding the screen closer to his face, but it doesn’t help much. the words are still blurred together, and even if tyler could see them clearly, he wouldn’t be able to comprehend a thing it says.
something else catches his eye.
there’s a long crack down the center of the screen. it veers off towards the right about halfway down, and a few other cracks branch off it along the way.
this little shit.
tyler blinks at him, mouth hanging open. “you lied.”
“huh?” josh’s brows furrow. “about what?”
“your phone,” tyler says, handing it back. “you said it didn’t crack when i ran into you.”
“oh.” josh purses his lips, but it doesn’t work to suppress his smile. “uh… it was cracked before that.”
“was it?”
the pink dusting josh’s cheeks is just barely visible. he looks at tyler, quiet for a moment before finally admitting, “no.”
“you lied,” tyler repeats. “why?”
“i didn’t want you to feel bad.” josh shrugs. “it’s not a big deal. it was as much my fault as it was yours.”
“well i feel bad now.” tyler bites the inside of his cheek. “m’sorry.”
“don’t. it’s okay.”
they’re sitting so close, tyler can feel the warmth radiating off him. he hopes josh can’t feel how hot he is too.
“so what about you?” josh asks. “you believe in god?”
“i don’t know,” tyler admits in a small voice. he looks up to the sky, searching the emptiness like he’ll find an answer there. “i thought i did. i think i still do. just… i don’t know. maybe not the god we’re taught about—like the one you said. i like the idea of that.”
“yeah?” josh urges, gently nudging tyler’s shoulder with his own. “you know you can believe whatever you want. you don’t have to listen to me or anyone else. sometimes i think we’re all just a giant alien’s science fair project, collecting dust on his shelf. i wouldn’t judge you if you thought god was a magical unicorn and we’re just a sparkle on its ass.”
tyler snorts unexpectedly, elbowing josh as he laughs along. “you’re weird.”
“i know,” josh grins.
“and you’re even more of a super, major, loser-nerd than i thought,” tyler adds.
“i know.”
and it’s really cute, tyler thinks. but instead of saying it, he just mirrors josh’s grin, letting himself believe for the moment that the universe they inhabit is just a sparkle on a unicorn’s ass, and that nothing matters as much as he thinks it does.
he doesn’t know how much time passes, but eventually the pizza dwindles down to only a few slices, his beer’s empty, and the water josh gave him is half-drank. his eyes grow heavy and he yawns every other minute or so. josh is clearly getting tired too, seeing as he’s doing a lot less talking now.
when tyler lets out a particularly loud yawn, josh glances at him. “you wanna head inside?”
tyler nods, wrapping his arms around himself. it’s colder now than before. he’s still spinning, still comfortably numb from the alcohol coursing through his veins. it’s only making him more tired—loopy, almost.
“alright, come on.”
josh stands and offers tyler a hand, pulling him to his feet. they gather everything and bring it all inside. josh sets the pizza on the kitchen island, along with tyler’s empty mich ultra, hugging the quilt against his chest.
“uh… you can take my bed. i’ll just sleep on the couch.”
tyler’s heart sinks.
that’s not what he wants at all. he doesn’t want to kick josh out of his own bed, and he definitely doesn’t want to sleep on the couch either. it’s fine, isn’t it? they’ll just be sleeping. so what? the magical unicorn whose ass they’re stuck on doesn’t care, so why should he?
“it’s fine,” tyler finally says. “we can, uh… yeah. it’s fine. s’long as you don’t care.”
the corners of josh’s lips slowly lift upwards. “sure, i don’t care. my bed it is, then.”
he leads them to his room once more, tossing the blanket into a pile in the corner, discarding their bottles of water on the stand beside his bed. tyler stands around awkwardly, watching josh rummage through his dresser.
“i’m assuming you want clothes to sleep in, right?” josh asks, glancing over his shoulder. “something more comfortable?”
“if that’s okay,” tyler says quietly. “otherwise-”
before he can finish his sentence, josh is handing him a pair of black plaid pajama pants. “here, put these on. i gotta go to the bathroom. i’ll be right back.”
tyler blinks and he’s gone, shutting the door behind him.
okay.
after neatly folding josh’s physics club sweatshirt and placing it on top of his dresser, tyler fumbles with the button on his jeans, tugging them down his thighs. he’s slightly off-kilter, unable to keep himself properly upright as he frees one ankle at a time.
one hand bracing against josh’s bed for balance, he manages to get his jeans off and replace them with josh’s pajama pants. they’re just slightly too big around the waist, and even looser around his legs.
josh returns as tyler’s kicking his jeans into the same corner as the quilt.
“they fit?” he asks.
tyler turns to respond, but his brain short-circuits at the sight of circular metal glasses perched on the bridge of josh’s nose.
“uh- i- yeah- glasses?” he stammers.
josh chuckles. “yeah. i usually just wear contacts.”
he crosses the room to turn on a star projector before switching off the lights. a blue-purple glow emits from it, simulating a galaxy, tiny white dots littered around the room. knowing that josh sleeps literally surrounded by stars every night makes tyler’s chest warm. it’s so cute he could cry.
“i didn’t know you wore glasses. you really are a nerd,” tyler teases, toothy grin in place.
josh rolls his eyes, though he matches tyler’s smile. “plenty of things make me a nerd, but wearing glasses is not one of them. lots of people wear glasses.”
tyler lets out a drunk giggle. “okay, nerd.”
“shut up,” josh says, no bite behind it. “i’m not even a nerd, really. what—just because i like science? lots of awesome people like science. you think they’re all nerds too?”
god, he’s so cute.
tyler just can’t help himself.
he grabs josh’s face in both hands and pulls him in, pressing their lips together.
josh kisses him back right away, lips warm and sure. it’s just as good as the first time—maybe even better.
he grabs tyler’s waist, pulling him along as he backs up towards the bed, lips never leaving his. tyler stumbles a bit as he follows, counting on josh to not let him completely lose his balance.
they kiss hungrily—panting into each others mouths, lips smacking.
josh grabs tyler by the back of the head as he sits on the bed, guiding him on top of his lap. tyler’s eager to claim his spot, thighs bracketing josh’s. he clutches the collar of josh’s shirt, pulling him in closer, afraid to let go.
josh’s hands slip under his shirt, nails trailing down his spine. the moan it pulls from tyler is low and guttural, like it’s been waiting to escape. it fuels him further, fingers tangling in josh’s frizzy curls, kissing him harder.
he doesn’t mean to, but he keeps bumping into josh’s glasses. the metal of the frames is cold as it smushes against tyler’s face. with every pull of their lips, the stupid things get in the damn way.
josh gets fed up with it. he pulls back, taking his glasses off and tossing them aside, ignoring tyler’s whine of protest.
the second they’re off, his lips are back on tyler’s, shutting him up. josh’s hands wander down to his ass, kneading the flesh through the fabric of the pajama pants.
tyler’s hot to the touch. he’s absolutely reeling. he’s never needed someone so desperately before, never felt like he was going to die without it.
seeking more, tyler swipes his tongue along josh’s lips, humming at the instant approval into josh’s mouth. his hips move on their own accord, bucking suddenly against josh’s. his erection is just as hard as tyler’s and feels like fucking heaven as tyler grinds against it, a broken moan muffled against josh’s lips.
josh’s fingers dig into his hips, trying to keep tyler still, but he’s unrelenting. he grinds his clothed cock against josh’s like a bitch in heat, not caring how pathetic he seems. it feels fucking amazing. it’s somehow better with the layers between them, makes it feel more wrong which makes it all the more right.
one particular drag of his hips has josh moaning into his mouth. the sound’s so mesmerizing tyler sees stars against the back of his eyelids.
it all comes crashing down when josh suddenly pulls away, pressing a firm palm to tyler’s chest.
“stop,” he says, breathless. “you’re drunk. we’re not doing this.”
“what?” tyler squeaks, eyes wide with desperation. “what the hell? no. please? i’m so hard. i’m so horny. please.”
“no. i’m dead sober and you’re hammered. that’s just wrong.” josh shakes his head, breath hitching as tyler grinds against him again. he digs his thumbs into tyler’s hipbones. “i’m serious. no.”
“c’mon,” tyler urges. his dick’s so hard it feels like his head’s going to explode. “don’t be a loser.”
“i’m not taking advantage of you.”
it’s such a wild statement tyler has to laugh. is that what he thinks is happening? does he really not understand how badly tyler wants this right now?
tyler leans in, lips brushing against josh’s as he says in a low voice, “you can take advantage of me. promise.”
for half a second he thinks josh might actually cave, but then he’s lifting tyler off his lap and shaking his head. “tyler. i said no. just lay down. go to sleep.”
tyler lets out the most pathetic whine, digging the balls of his hands into his eyes as tears pool in frustration. stupid josh. why’s he have to be so nice? why can’t he just let tyler have this? he wants it too. tyler knows he does.
“but-”
“come on,” josh interrupts. he pulls back the comforter for tyler to get under it. “you’ll be fine.”
tyler glares at him. “i hate you,” he grumbles, even as he does what josh says and crawls into bed.
once he’s settled, josh joins him beneath the covers. tyler’s on the inside, rolled over to face the wall, too annoyed to face josh. he can tell josh is facing him though, because he strings his arm over tyler’s waist while still leaving an inch gap between them.
“stop pouting.” josh murmurs. “come tomorrow, you’re going to want nothing to do with me again.”
tyler’s heart sinks. it’s a painful truth.
with the cover of alcohol, it’s easy to tell himself they’re just a sparkle on a unicorn’s ass and there’s no punishment waiting for him on the other side. but come morning, once he’s sobered up, he knows he won’t believe that. he knows josh is right.
he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t—just closes his eyes and lets himself feel free for a little longer, before sleep takes it all away.
Notes:
this is hands down my favorite chapter so far. it honestly might be my favorite chapter of the whole fic :') i guess we'll see about that but UGH this chapter means so much to me
i ended up combining chapters 14 and 15 in my outline so the total number of chapters is less now. and honestly this will probably keep happening, so take the total chapter count with a grain of salt
ALSO! i'm leaving for vacation on monday and won't be back until the following tuesday, so this will probably be the last update for a bit because i don't think i'll have any time to write. i hope you'll stick around <3
Chapter 15: are you there god? it's me, tyler
Summary:
tyler somehow reaches a new low.
surely things can only get better from here... right?
Notes:
I'M BACK FROM MY VACATION YAAAYYY!!
it was my first ever cruise and my first time visiting alaska and it was truly beautiful :') such an incredible trip. i'm so grateful
i thought about fratler the entire time. here you go <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
it takes a second for tyler to remember where he is.
he’s tucked against an angled wall, sunlight streaming in through the glass pane above the foot of the bed. his shoulder is smushed against the cool drywall. you’d think he was sharing a twin bed with how cramped he is.
he has a clear view of the room and an ever clearer view of the person beside him—the one whose arm lays limp across his waist, the one who’s sprawled out in the center and hogging the entire full-sized bed.
josh.
he’s still fast asleep, blissfully ignorant to the bright sun whose rays roused tyler against his will.
in his opinion, skylights in the bedroom are a stupid design choice. no way to block out the sun, no way to sleep in until noon. guess that’s his fault for being a light sleeper, seeing as josh is literally drooling against his pillow.
it shouldn’t be cute, but it is.
his heart shouldn’t be racing, but it is.
he shouldn’t be staring, but he is.
man, this is bad.
he shouldn’t feel as good as he does right now—shouldn’t be excited to wake up next to josh and get to watch him sleep.
it’s weird. he’s weird.
…but josh is so cute.
his pink lips are parted slightly, a small puddle of drool wetting his pillowcase. his cheek is squished against the pillow, pushing the skin to his eye where his upper lashes rest delicately against the lower. one half of his hair is flat while the other sits wildly.
not only does he have one arm strewn across tyler, but his other hand rests curled up against tyler’s chest, like at one point in the night josh grabbed a fistful of his shirt and fell asleep like that.
it makes tyler all warm inside to think about it. even more so to think about the events of last night.
josh went out of his way to pick him up from midway. he brought tyler back to his apartment, bought him pizza, and they ate it under the stars together. they talked about things tyler hasn’t even talked about with mark, and he felt comfortable talking about it.
he wasn’t worried what josh would think. he wasn’t annoyed with josh’s ramblings. in fact, he quite enjoyed listening to him. he even enjoyed sharing thoughts of his own.
it was… sort of romantic, in a sense. wasn’t it?
that was the closest semblance of a date he’s had since the first and only time he took a girl out in high school.
of course—it wasn’t a date. not even close. josh just took pity on him like he was a pet left on the side of the road in the rain. josh is kind, tyler had a moment of weakness, and josh went out of his way to comfort him. that’s all.
when josh starts to stir, tyler’s eyes flutter shut. his heart races at the mere thought of josh catching him staring. how would he begin to explain that?
josh inhales deeply, puffing a warm breath across tyler’s face. the weight of his arm wrapped around tyler’s waist slowly lifts, and if tyler was any less dignified he’d grab his wrist and pull his arm back around himself.
instead, he lays as still as possible and hopes josh can’t tell he’s awake.
he must do a pretty damn good job too, because all of a sudden josh’s fingertips meet his forehead and slowly feather down the side of his face, trailing along his jaw to the tip of his chin.
his touch is gentle enough that, if tyler were actually asleep, he would have no idea it was happening. it sends a shiver down his spine, goosebumps across his arms, and butterflies soaring in his stomach.
oh my fucking god.
josh’s palm slides along his jaw to rest against his neck, just below the crevice of his ear. his thumb strokes gently back and forth across tyler’s cheekbone, igniting a fire beneath his skin.
fuck his life. this makes no sense. he should feel this way with jenna—all mushy and gushy—not josh.
this is so bad. he doesn’t want to feel this way. it’s wrong. it’s all wrong.
it’s not nervous jitters that has his heart pounding now, but pure, unadulterated fear.
he has to put an end to this before it gets worse. it’s silly for him to even still be here. he should’ve never stayed last night. he should’ve bolted the second he opened his eyes.
in an attempt to make waking up look as real as possible, tyler furrows his brows and licks his lips, taking a deep breath as his eyes slowly open.
josh looks content as can be—watching with a slight grin as his thumb glides rhythmically over tyler’s cheekbone.
tyler’s defenses kick in.
he swats josh’s hand away. “don’t.”
josh’s brows furrow in the slightest before quickly straightening out again, but it’s enough to make tyler’s chest ache.
“hm,” josh hums, studying tyler. “yeah. told you so.”
tyler shrinks under his gaze, wishing josh would create some distance between them. he’d do it himself if he weren’t pressed up against the wall. “told me what?”
“last night i said when you woke up that you’d want nothing to do with me.”
“why should i?” tyler asks.
hurt flickers in josh’s eyes, and tyler regrets it immediately. the corners of josh’s mouth lift into a weak grin, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
“okay,” he whispers. he pauses for a beat, the two silently holding each other’s stare, then rolls over and gets out of bed.
wordlessly, josh perches his glasses on the bridge of his nose before crossing the room to rummage through his clothes. he doesn’t so much as toss a pity glance in tyler’s direction. doesn’t even acknowledge his presence.
the weight in tyler’s stomach is unbearable. his guilt, palpable.
it’s obvious he hurt josh’s feelings. of course he did—just like he does with everyone else. not even josh is safe from his asshole-ery, but if hurting josh is what it takes to keep him away, then fine. tyler can live with that.
…probably.
no—definitely. he has to. he has no other choice.
”are you gonna leave or what?” josh asks as he paws through his closet, not even bothering to look in tyler’s direction.
oh, right. guess he probably should go home. it’s even weirder for him to hang around now that josh clearly doesn’t want him here. back to the side of the road into the rain he goes.
following josh’s lead, tyler stays silent as he climbs out of bed. he retrieves his jeans from the corner of the room and switches out josh’s pajama pants for them while josh’s back is to him, then tosses the pajamas into the same corner where he retrieved his jeans.
his phone is plugged in beside the bed. he doesn’t remember doing that, so josh must’ve for him. it’s a small gesture, but there’s so much care behind it that it hits like a sucker punch to tyler’s gut.
he tugs it free from the charger, briefly glancing at josh—who is in the midst of removing his shirt. with burning cheeks, tyler’s eyes dart to the ground, like he’s been caught watching something he shouldn’t.
it’s definitely time to leave.
as his hand touches the doorknob, josh stops him.
“tyler, wait.”
finally, their eyes meet again. josh is straight-faced. unreadable. unlike tyler, whose eyes are wide with the frantic desperation to run away as fast as he can. to avoid whatever the hell josh could possibly say to him in this moment.
“do you remember what you were saying last night before i picked you up?”
fuck.
of course he remembers. he wishes he didn’t, but he does.
it takes a few seconds longer than it should for tyler to reply. “…nope.”
josh stares at him. tyler stares back, his throat tight.
why, why, why? why does josh have to pry? why can’t he just let tyler pretend like everything is fine?
”why’re you lying to me?”
tyler stills like a deer in headlights. he opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. there’s nothing he can say.
”why’re you lying to yourself?” josh presses. he doesn’t look mad—even though he has every right—he just seems… disappointed. that’s somehow worse than him being angry.
”i- uh-“ tyler stammers, racking his brain for an explanation. there’s nothing that he could possibly fathom admitting to josh, so he shuts it down as quickly as he can. “we are not fucking talking about this. bye.”
”wait-”
tyler opens the door just enough to slip out and closes it with more force than necessary. he doesn’t mean to, he’s just overwhelmed, but the sound echos down the hallway.
he practically sprints out of josh’s apartment, taking the steps two at a time. at least he doesn’t run into any of josh’s roommates on the way out. he’ll take a win where he can get one.
he spirals for the entire ten minutes or so it takes him to walk back to kdr.
why did he stay last night? why did he want to sleep in josh’s bed? why did josh let him?
he was ready to pick tyler up at a moment’s notice. had he been doing something that he then dropped for tyler? what could possibly be his reason for treating tyler with such kindness when tyler is nothing but mean to him?
he doesn’t deserve josh’s amity. doesn’t want it, either. the nicer josh is to him, the more he feels the need to flee. the more he wants to bite back.
none of his usual hurt-them-before-they-hurt-you methods seem to be working, and he doesn’t know why. he doesn’t know what else he can do to make josh want nothing to do with him. should he give up? should he give in? is he going to be tortured for another year and a half until graduation?
he doesn’t reach any sort of conclusion by the time he gets back to the house.
it’s still early—9am according to his phone—which means most of his brothers will still be fast asleep. thank god. he can’t handle any social interaction at the moment, just wants to shut himself in his room and go the fuck back to bed.
that doesn’t happen, of course.
mark greets him as he’s halfway through the front door.
“how was jenna?”
tyler looks at him in confusion for a moment. then it hits him.
shit. right. that’s what he said last night, that he was with jenna. what a stupid lie.
“she’s… jenna?”
weird. mark’s never cared to ask about her before. he’s acting strange.
“yeah? you guys get back together?”
he’s got a smug grin on his face, like he knows something tyler doesn’t. tyler isn’t sure what’s so fucking funny. he shifts uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck.
“what? no. hell no.”
mark chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “right, right… so actually, jenna came by this morning looking for you. said she hasn’t seen or heard from you in days.”
tyler wishes he could drop dead. his heart stops so suddenly it feels like a very real possibility.
“oh, fuck. uhhh, i- uh- well, um… i went home with someone else,” he finally chokes out, sweating bullets.
“yeah, clearly. why lie to me, man?” mark looks genuinely confused, like he can’t find a single reason why his best friend would hide something from him. little does he know…
tyler can’t answer that. instead, he asks, “did you tell jenna?”
mark knows he’s deflecting. it’s obvious in the way he shakes his head like a disappointed father. “i covered for you, dude. i went upstairs and pretended like i tried to wake you up. told her you must be knocked out.”
okay. that’s good, at least. that means no questions from jenna other than why the hell have you been ignoring me?
“so…” mark continues, “why lie to me? who was it? you can tell me, man.”
he says it like he really means it, but tyler knows better. he can picture the horror on his face if he were to tell mark he was with a guy— with josh, no less.
“this chick from theater,” tyler blurts out. it’s the first thing he can think of. “you wouldn’t know her. i ran into her at midway and she invited me back to her place. i’m going back to bed now.”
he brushes past mark before he can question him further, darting upstairs to his room and locking the door behind him.
fuck.
tyler leans back against the door, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. his heart races. he feels dizzy. lightheaded. can’t quite feel his toes on his right side. is his arm going numb too?
josh is right.
he’s so right.
tyler is lying to himself.
he’s lying to josh.
he’s lying to jenna.
and he’s lying to his fucking best friend.
why the fuck is this happening to him? does god really hate him this much?
bzzzz, bzzzz, bzzzz.
his phone vibrates inside his pocket with a call. it’s jenna.
fuck. he has to answer. he can’t just ghost her. she doesn’t deserve that, even if she is insufferably annoying.
he takes a deep breath, trying not to freak out about the lack of feeling in his foot and the tingling of his arm. “hello?”
“oh my god. you answered!” jenna sighs in relief. “i was starting to get worried that something happened to you. i’ve been trying to tell you that i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i-”
“jenna,” he cuts her off. “stop. just stop. stop saying sorry. stop being sorry. just. stop. it pisses me off when you do that.”
“what?” she asks weakly. “but- why does it piss you off? i’m trying to be the bigger person.”
“that’s exactly it.” tyler swallows hard, fighting against the lump in his throat. “you shouldn’t be the bigger person all the time. you should be more selfish. you should hate me. i deserved everything you said. you’re right—there’s something wrong with me.”
he regrets it the second the words leave his lips. he doesn’t want any pity from her, and he’s almost certain it’s just going to make her feel even worse than she already does. that’s not his goal.
what he doesn’t expect is the silence that follows. he sighs, pressing his fingers against his eyelids, willing the tears that prick behind them to go away. it feels like the world is crumbling right beneath his feet.
jenna’s quiet when she finally speaks. “i don’t know what you want me to say.”
“i really like you jenna, okay? you’re nice, you’re funny, you’re sweet, you’re pretty. but you’re just…” he inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut, wincing to brace for what he’s about to say next. he has no intention of hurting her, only being honest—for once. “you’re not the one for me, and you never will be. so do us both a favor and just stop trying. let’s just be friends—normal friends. okay?”
the other line is all sniffling and soft, shuddered breaths. something about it makes tyler’s own tears harder to fight. being honest feels even worse than living a lie.
“okay,” jenna says, voice shaky. “deal.”
he can’t tell if she’s devastated or relieved. he’s not sure how he feels either.
“okay,” he breathes. “good. deal. okay. i, uh, i gotta go. i’ll see ya.”
“yeah. okay. bye.”
after hanging up, tyler stays frozen, staring at the wall ahead.
now what? what the fuck did he just do? jenna was really the only thing that made him feel like he had a chance at being normal.
he could’ve sucked it up. could’ve dealt with her for the rest of his life like his mother would want, like god intended when he put jenna in his path. but it’s too late now. he fucked that up. he just squashed the one chance he had at being the man everyone wants him to be in the palm of his own hand.
he did that. he fucked up.
how is he supposed to live with himself?
is there any hope for him?
fat, hot tears stream down his cheeks. the numbness is creeping up his foot towards his calf, and now his other foot is starting to tingle too.
he can’t breathe. he can’t think. he can’t. breathe.
is he having a stroke? is he going to die?
some sort of survival instinct repressed deep in his subconscious takes over. he drops to his knees beside his bed, head bowing, hands clasping in front of him.
“god,” he cries, breath shuddering. “please help me. please, please. i’m sorry i haven’t been the best of sons. i’m sorry i haven’t been going to church. i’m sorry i don’t believe as much as i did before. m’sorry, m’sorry.
”please forgive me. please. please. i need your help. i don’t know what to do. i don’t wanna be a sinner. i don’t wanna go to hell. sorry. i’m so sorry. please fix me. please. i’ll start going to church again if you just make me normal. please, god. i don’t know what i’m supposed to do. please give me a sign.”
bzz, bzz.
the sudden vibration in his pocket makes him jump. it pulls him back down to earth enough to stop his pathetic begging. like god would really listen to him. he’s nothing. he’s nobody. he can’t be saved. he can’t be fixed.
his vision’s blurred with tears as he checks who could possibly be texting him.
josh.
the sight of his name knocks the breath out of tyler’s lungs.
let me know when you stop lying to yourself.
Notes:
1/5 of this was written from my balcony on the ship, 2/5 was written in the airport, and the other 2/5 was written in the airplane. this chapter has traveled from alaska to canada to new jersey. it's been 33k feet above ground. it's been in the middle of the ocean. it also was temporarily lost to the abyss for about 15 minutes before i figured out how to sync it from offline. what a journey she's been on
Chapter 16: no plan, no purpose, just vibes
Summary:
tyler's been this way.
he's not sure he's ready to change.
Notes:
hi did you miss me?
thank you so much for 10k hits wowza
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
it’s a miracle tyler finds the strength to head to class the next morning.
he really doesn’t have it in him, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. he’s already missed so much. he has to go if he wants to graduate on time. he can’t afford to fail another class.
josh’s text sits unread in his phone.
what a sick fucking joke that is. when he asked god for a sign, that is not anything close to what he wanted. not even close.
it’s probably worst-case-scenario, actually. best-case would’ve been waking up this morning with a sudden craving for pussy and a repulsion to dick. unfortunately, that’s not the case. he feels just the same as he did before, just with a lot more hatred for himself.
as he’s walking across the oval to class, tyler can’t help but people-watch. it’s one of his favorite pastimes—observing others and telling himself he can’t possibly have it as bad as some of them. judging their every move, comparing them to himself. convincing himself that he’s superior in some way.
it usually makes him feel better about himself. that’s not the case today.
instead, his attention keeps getting pulled to a couple walking a bit ahead of him. no matter how hard he tries to divert his gaze somewhere else, he just can’t stop staring at the pair’s interlocked hands.
the two guys are talking and laughing, completely unaware to the way they have tyler seething with jealousy behind them.
how do they not hate themselves as much as he hates himself? they look so happy—so in love. tyler wants to be happy too. it’s not fucking fair. none of this is fucking fair.
he never asked for this. never asked to be born. if he was given the choice with the knowledge of what he’s going through currently, he would’ve said fuck no.
but tyler, then you’d never experience what it’s like to be human.
still no. he would rather not have to endure the burden of humanity. the insane lows, the pain of just living—it’s not worth experiencing the few things that don’t make him want to kill himself.
the couple turns off at a different path than him—thank god. he might’ve jumped into oncoming traffic otherwise.
still, the sight of them lingers even after he makes it to class and takes his unassigned-assigned seat in the very back row.
he opens his macbook still thinking about the smiles on their faces. he tries to listen to the professor as she begins lecture, but all he can hear is their laughter. he mindlessly copies the words from her slides into a google doc, but he can’t stop thinking about the way they were drawn together like magnets.
fuck. he can’t take it anymore.
he opens imessage from his hotbar, finally opening that text from josh.
let me know when you stop lying to yourself.
tyler bounces his leg, reading it over and over. is he really going to do his? is he really ready?
fuck no. not even in the slightest.
i’m terrified.
well, nothing he can do about it now.
he quickly closes the app, leg bouncing faster now, chewing on his nails. so much for trying to pay attention. the professor is just background noise. she posts the slides anyway, so he’ll be fine. probably.
the corner of his screen shows a notification from josh less than a minute later.
wyd right now?
i’m in class
me too. want to grab lunch after?
holy shit. no. he absolutely does not. what kind of excuse can he pull? maybe their classes are far apart?
where’s your class?
math tower. you?
great. that’s like a five minute walk.
theatre building
perfect. wanna meet at terra?
terra byte is a cafe inside the library that’s pretty smack-dab in between their buildings. tyler hardly ever goes there, but fuck, how can he say no? he has no reason not to go other than the fact that he’s a scared little bitch.
sure.
cool. we can sit on the oval :)
tyler doesn’t know if that’s better or worse than just eating at the cafe. more people will pass them on the oval, but not being in a confined space means a less likely chance they’ll be noticed. most people aren’t paying attention to the others on the oval, anyway. yeah. that’s probably the safest option.
see u there
josh loved “ok. see u there”
tyler swallows thickly, hands sweaty and trembling. his heart beats so hard he can hear his pulse in his ears.
he can’t believe he’s doing this. he doesn’t even want to, really, so he’s not sure how to explain why. there’s no logic behind it—much like most of the shit he does.
he tries to pay attention to the shit his professor is spewing, but it proves difficult. he’s too worried about what the hell is going to happen when he meets up with josh. he’s even more worried about how giddy he is to see him, despite their little quarrel yesterday.
he’s not ready for… this… but he is ready to see josh again. that’s got to count for something.
class doesn’t drag on like usual. before tyler realizes, he’s standing in sync with the rest of his classmates and stuffing his mac into his backpack. he can’t recall a single thing his professor taught them today, but that’s the least of his worries right now.
he’s about to face josh. sober. in public.
triple whammy.
what’s he supposed to say? how’s he supposed to act? is josh going to take it to mean something more than what tyler wants? what does tyler want?
his head hurts.
josh waits outside the brick building, clutching the straps of his bag. he lights up when he sees tyler, a small grin lifting the corners of his lips. why josh looks so happy to see him, tyler has no idea, but it makes his chest warm.
no backing out now.
“hey,” josh greets. he checks out tyler from head-to-toe, and tyler refrains from doing the same.
“hey,” he echoes, eyes darting nervously between all the people passing by. does he recognize any of them? do any of them know him? are they going to wonder what he’s doing with josh? why he’s getting lunch with him?
“you good?”
tyler snaps his eyes back to josh, whose brows are knitted in concern, making tyler’s heart tug. he forces a smile and a quick nod, though the lump in his throat prevents him from speaking.
why’s he freezing up? what is it about josh? fuck. he hates it.
“alright,” josh says, though he sounds unconvinced. “let’s go order. i’m starving.”
tyler lets him lead the way. he doesn’t say much of anything other than mumbling his order to the cashier, but it’s not like josh tries to make conversation either.
if it’s awkward, tyler can’t tell. anxiety overshadows all. he’s so fucking scared people he knows are going to see him getting lunch with josh and assume things he doesn’t want them thinking. what’s he going to do if a brother walks in? or jenna? jesus christ. he’s sweating just from the thought.
thankfully, they don’t have to wait too long for their food, and tyler rushes them out of there as quick as he can.
“you sure you’re okay?” josh asks, sipping on the iced chai latte he ordered. if tyler weren’t shitting bricks, he would’ve made fun of him for getting it.
“i’m fine,” tyler lies through his teeth. his gaze is trained on the ground, hoping if he can’t see anyone, then nobody can see him either.
he regrets everything. he shouldn’t have texted josh. shouldn’t have agreed to get lunch. shouldn’t have said yes to eating on the oval.
he’s not ready.
he’s not ready, he’s not ready.
he doesn’t want to have this conversation. doesn’t want to face this yet. all he wants to do is go home and get high and forget that he’s a real person with real responsibilities.
they find a nice spot near the edge of the oval, beneath the shade of an oak tree whose leaves are beginning to pale to a soft yellow. much like all the other trees on campus, fall is starting to show its colors.
josh doesn’t even give him time to unwrap his sandwich.
“what’re you so afraid of?”
heat rushes to tyler’s face. they’re just… doing this? right here? right now?
there’s so many people walking around the oval at this time of day—students on their way to and from class, faculty taking a lunch break, people walking their dogs. he’s supposed to just lay it all out for josh now? when anybody could easily overhear? when one of his brothers might walk by?
“y’know what,” josh says quickly, sensing tyler’s panic. “never mind. just… tell me about your day.”
okay. tyler can do that. easy enough.
he huffs out a nervous chuckle, a slight tremble to his fingers as he copies josh in opening his sandwich. “it’s been fine. nothing exciting. i don’t even know why i went to class. couldn’t focus. waste of time, really.”
“how come?”
“i don’t know. couldn’t think. or, uh, couldn’t stop thinking, i guess.”
josh quietly observes him. tyler’s suddenly interested in a tree far across the way.
“i’ve been up since six,” josh states.
“what?” tyler’s eyes widen. “why?”
“i have an 8am, so i’m usually up early anyway, but i don’t know. i was having trouble staying asleep, so i just gave up.”
tyler knows what that’s like. “why would you do that to yourself?”
“the 8am?” josh asks, chuckling as tyler nods. “dude, it wasn’t by choice. it was the only section of quantum mechanics i could get into.”
tyler scrunches his nose. “quantum mechanics? ew. that sounds like a nightmare.”
“yeah, and imagine taking it at 8am!” josh whines, a smile stretching across his face with the sound of tyler’s laughter. “i have no idea what’s going on half the time.”
“i feel that way with all my classes,” tyler offers, still snickering at the idea of josh having to learn about subatomic particles first thing in the morning. “except mine are just theatre and gen ed. i can’t imagine if it was some shit like that.”
“what’s your plan with theatre?” josh asks suddenly, making tyler stall.
“oh. uh, i don’t… don’t really know. i don’t have a plan, i guess. it’s… yeah,” he stammers, shaking his head at himself.
here’s josh, who has a clear idea of what he’s going to do with his life, asking tyler , a fucking loser who’s been hoping his liver will fail before graduation, what his “plan” is.
there is no plan.
“do you like theatre? i’m assuming you do. it’s a pretty out-there major to just pick randomly.”
“i do. i just…” tyler sighs, shrugging halfheartedly. “it’s interesting, but there’s nothing i want to do with it. i don’t want to act, or direct, or produce. i thought about playwriting maybe, but i don’t think i’d be any good. don’t really have any stories to tell.”
josh hums in thought. “you’ll figure it out. a lot of people end up doing something completely unrelated to their degree. i was just curious. didn’t know if you, like, sing and dance and shit,” he says with a smirk.
tyler snorts, playfully shoving his shoulder. “hell no. what—i seem like the type?”
“i don’t know,” josh laughs, nudging him back. “maybe. i wouldn’t be surprised.”
“me?” tyler’s voice raises an octave. “you seriously think i’d get up on stage in the first place, let alone sing and dance? absolutely not.”
“no?” josh questions. “stage fright?”
“sorta? i, uh, used to play piano for my church, and i was only really scared the first time i did it. that’s different, though, because i was facing the piano—not the crowd. and i’d just sit there, not singing or dancing or anything. it was easy to pretend like no one was watching.”
while tyler talks, josh listens. like, really listens. with his whole body.
he doesn’t cast judgement or make offhanded comments. his attention never wavers from tyler, though the depth of his gaze sends tyler’s eyes darting back to his lap.
the tension in his shoulders eases little by little. his nerves slowly dissipate. it’s hard not to feel comfortable around josh, even if his puppy-dog eyes still make tyler’s heart race.
“i see. do you still play?”
“well, i don’t really go to church anymore…”
“no. i mean in general. do you still play? for yourself?”
“oh,” tyler breathes, “nah. i don’t have my own keyboard or anything, so it’s been a while. what about you? you play any instruments?”
josh barks out a laugh. “i don’t have a musical bone in my body. i think the drums are cool, but i tried them in band class one year in high school and absolutely sucked. i didn’t even finish out the year.”
tyler laughs along, crinkling the paper that used to house his sandwich into a ball and handing it to josh when he holds out his palm.
okay. this is fine. this is safe. they’re just being friends. tyler can do this any day of the week. granted, it’s not at all like the conversations he has with his brothers, and hearing them laugh never gives him butterflies like this, but still.
thank god josh isn’t forcing him into a talk about things. this feels relatively normal.
“tyler!” a voice calls out suddenly, causing tyler’s heart to drop.
mark waves from his path along the perimeter of the oval, heading straight for them.
fuck, fuck, fuck. no. this isn’t normal.
mark’s gonna know. he’ll put it together. he’ll hate him. tell everyone.
tyler’s frozen like a deer in headlights, the color draining from his face, unable to do anything but watch as mark approaches.
“hey,” mark greets with a smile, glancing between them. “what’s up?”
when tyler doesn’t respond, josh is quick to speak up. “hi, mark. how’re you?”
“i’m good, man. you?”
“can’t complain.”
“cool. well, it’s nice to see you, josh. wish i could stay and hang with you guys, but i gotta go to class. i just wanted to say hi. see you back at the house, tyler?”
“uh- i-” tyler stumbles, trying to process mark’s lack of a reaction. “yeah. yeah, i’ll see you later.”
mark gives a curt nod and he’s on his way.
tyler breathes a sigh of relief, pretending like he doesn’t see the knowing grin josh sends in his direction.
“you okay?”
“yeah,” he responds quietly. this is fine. this is just a normal, friendly hangout. yeah. mark didn’t seem to think otherwise, at least, so that’s good. everything’s good. “i’m okay.”
josh reaches through the space between them and places his hand on tyler’s knee, squeezing gently. “okay.”
tyler’s heart stutters. the tips of his ears grow red. it feels good when josh touches him, but he jolts his leg away from his reach, fearing mark or anyone else might see. josh is startled for half a second, hand poised like he’s about to try again, but he just drops it in his lap.
“i have to go to class,” tyler chokes out, scrambling for his things. “um- i- yeah. thanks for… having lunch with me. it was, uh, nice. or whatever.”
josh stays sitting, leaning back against his palms to look up at tyler with that stupid, smug grin. “it was. have fun in class.”
“you too,” tyler says quickly. “er, uh, if you have another class.”
“i don’t.”
“oh. okay. uh… never mind then.” he clutches the straps of his bag, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “so, uhhh, okay. see ya. i’ll… yeah. see ya.”
josh huffs out a laugh. tyler’s cheeks burn. “alright. see you later, tyler.”
tyler nods, lingering for a moment. should he say something else? should he just skip class and stay here? no, bad idea. this is already too much.
he offers josh a weak smile, then turns on his heels and heads towards his next class.
it’s not even a few seconds later when his phone vibrates with a text from josh.
you look really good today btw
tyler grins like an idiot, warmth flooding his chest. his head whips around and, sure enough, josh is still sitting where he left him, watching tyler walk away.
stop. shut up
you’re supposed to say “you too”
🤢
you have such a way with words
tyler giggles to himself, then realizes that he’s fucking gigging to himself over josh’s texts, and quickly wipes the smile off his face. josh isn’t even that funny. tyler’s just being fucking stupid.
what class do you have?
math 😐
you’re in a math class?
yeah. it’s for fucking gen ed. i hate it
not a math guy?
fuck no. why do i need to take precollege math? calculators exist for a reason
precollege? isn’t that one of the lowest levels?
maybe. what about it.
nothing. i was just asking
tyler sits in the back of the classroom, like usual. he opens his macbook despite the fact that it’s fucking math and nobody takes notes for math on their computer. he doesn’t care. he’s not going to listen anyway, just wants to use it to text josh.
sorry it’s not quantum mechanics
quantum is a physics class actually
“quantum is a physics class actually” 🤓
haha. funny.
shouldn’t you be paying attention?
fuck this class. i never know what’s going on anyway
probably because you need to pay attention
whatever. it won’t make a difference. i still won’t know what’s going on.
i could help you if you ever need
wtf are you saying? you’re gonna tutor me? no. i don’t need a fucking tutor.
you’re right i’ll just go die sorry
tyler snorts, forgetting he’s in a room full of other people. he quickly covers his mouth, glancing around, but nobody’s paying attention to him.
omg
i’m kidding. if you don’t want help then ok idc
i don’t need it. i’ll be fine
alright. offer’s always there
thanks but i’m good
theatre major who can’t do math is a bit of a cliche, isn’t it?
says the walking cliche
lol
wyd tonight?
his plans are to go to uno with mark and some of the guys. he wants josh to be there, but there’s no way he can invite him. not when jake and evan are going. not after the way jake talked about him.
idk. getting drunk
obviously. you guys have a party tn?
nah idk what we’re doing yet. wbu?
i think debby wants to go to midway, so we’ll probably do that
okay. josh has other plans anyway, so he doesn’t have to feel guilty for not inviting him. perfect.
sounds fun
should be. maybe i’ll see you there?
yeah we might end up there idk. we’ll see
class is over before tyler knows it. he spends the whole time texting josh random, pointless shit. when jenna used to try doing that with him, it would piss him off, but talking to josh is actually kinda nice.
he leaves class with no more knowledge than when he walked in. at one point, he tried to tune in, but after about ten seconds he realized he had absolutely no clue what the professor was going on about, so he just went back to texting josh.
he still can’t believe that when he asked for a sign yesterday, josh texted him immediately.
it’s not really the sign he wanted, but maybe it’s what he needed.
maybe it’s okay.
maybe that was god’s way of telling him that everything is okay.
he’s on his way back to the house when he hears a, “tyler!”
mark waves from behind him. “hey, wait up!”
tyler forces a smile, waiting for mark to catch up to him. his heart races remembering how mark ran into him having lunch with josh earlier. he hopes he won’t mention it.
once mark is at his side, they walk together, tyler clutching his bag and watching the pavement pass by beneath his feet.
no words exchange between them for a few minutes. it’s not until they’re turning down their block that mark asks, “isn’t josh jenna’s friend?”
tyler’s heart stops. “um… yeah. so?”
“does that mean it was an amicable breakup, then? if you’re hanging out with her friend?”
“does it even count as a break up if we were never together? we’re just friends now. i think. i guess. i don’t know, i haven’t really talked to her, but as far as i know, we’re on good terms.”
“oh,” mark hums. “i just didn’t realize you even really knew josh. it seemed like you guys hated each other last weekend.”
tyler chuckles. “yeah, i don’t know. we’re… friends? i guess? just… yeah. friends.”
he feels mark’s eyes on him, but keeps his trained on the ground. he just knows mark is giving him that look again. the one that makes him feel like he’s doing something bad and has just been caught red-handed.
“you don’t seem so sure,” mark points out.
“i don’t know him that well,” tyler says quickly, desperate to save his own ass. “so i don’t know if i’d say we’re friends yet. more like acquaintances.”
mark snorts, pausing outside the house as they step onto the porch. he blocks tyler’s way to the door. “i can’t even get you to eat lunch with me half the time. and i’m your best friend.”
the tips of tyler’s ears grow hot. his throat tightens.
“what, you fucking jealous or something?” the words rip out sharper than he intends, and for half a second it startles even him. he didn’t mean to snap, but what else do you get when you start backing a violent dog into a corner?
mark hardly flinches, just rolls his eyes and holds the door open. “no. i’m just saying you’re more than acquaintances.”
tyler blows past him, purposefully bumping their shoulders together. “why’s it fucking matter?”
“it doesn’t, jesus. is it really that hard for you to open up that you can’t even admit you finally like someone other than me?”
he’s pushing all the wrong buttons. saying all the wrong things. he doesn’t even know it, has no clue what’s going on, but tyler’s fucking terrified mark might be dangerously close to the truth.
“i don’t like him,” tyler insists. he trudges upstairs, mark’s footsteps following behind. “and i don’t like you either.”
“okay,” is all mark says.
tyler assumes he veers off into his room as they walk past, but when he reaches his door at the end of the hall, mark is still right behind him. his lips are drawn in a hopeful grin. tyler knows what he wants.
he sighs. “wanna smoke?”
“well, if you’re offering…”
tyler shakes his head, huffing a soft laugh. “i hate you. come on.”
they get comfy on the loveseat in tyler’s room while he rolls a joint.
“you should invite him to uno with us tonight,” mark suggests.
tyler side-eyes him, motioning for the lighter on the corner of the coffee table. mark hands it over, allowing him to light the end of the joint. thick smoke burns deep in his chest as he takes the first hit.
he leans back, handing off the joint, voice strained around the smoke he holds in his lungs. “who?”
“josh,” mark replies, taking a drag.
tyler hoped that the josh talk was behind them, but of course not. not with mark. he pushes tyler all the way to the edge and only backs off right as he’s about to fall off the cliff.
“ehhh… i don’t know.”
“come on. why not?”
tyler scratches the stubble along his jaw. what’s he supposed to say? what reason could there be for him to say no?
he says the first thing that comes to mind.
“don’t think jake would like it. called him a, uhhhh…” he hesitates, watching mark hit the joint again. “dude, stop chiefing.”
mark rolls his eyes, passing it back. “called him a what?”
“uhhh…”
tyler doesn’t know why it feels so wrong to say. the rest of his brothers throw it around so casually. he’s never really been the type, but for some reason the word feels worse than usual on his tongue.
he lowers his voice, muttering, “he called josh a fag.” then, more casually, “i wouldn’t wanna put josh through that.”
“wait, what?” mark sits up straighter, eyes narrowing at tyler like he did something wrong. “are you serious? what the fuck?”
oh fuck. here we go.
he figured mark already knew josh is gay, but apparently not. great. now he’s going to start saying shit too.
tyler shifts uncomfortably, hitting the joint to excuse his lack of a response.
“that is not cool,” mark continues. “fuck jake, man. he’s such an idiot.”
tyler exhales heavily, watching the thick smoke puff out in a cloud before him, lingering for a moment before the edges slowly begin dissipating.
thank god. he would’ve had to second-guess their friendship if mark tried giving him shit about josh being gay.
“what’d you say to him after?” mark asks.
“nothing.” tyler shrugs, hands over the joint. “i just walked away.”
mark shakes his head. “that’s not cool, tyler. he’ll keep saying shit like that if nobody tells him to shut the fuck up.”
the end of the joint glows bright red when mark hits it. tyler watches, his vision sharpened, the sunlight streaming in through the open window almost dreamlike.
he kicks his feet up on the coffee table, legs feeling like lead, his mind wandering to the place it always seems to go to.
josh.
he bets it’d be fun if josh got high with him. they’d have some real interesting conversations. bet josh would look real pretty too—droopy, bloodshot eyes and a big, dopey grin. tyler’s gotta ask him sometime if he’d ever want to.
“i don’t know, dude,” he says, realizing he still hasn’t responded to mark. “i wasn’t tryna… i didn’t want him to think, like… you know.”
mark scoffs. “who gives a fuck what he thinks?”
he’s still hogging the joint. tyler retrieves it from between his fingers, rolling his eyes at mark’s mumbled apology.
“yeah,” he says. “you’re right.”
oh, if only it were that easy.
Notes:
sorry to disappear for a few weeks without warning. my dad had a medical emergency and i couldn't stand to be away, so i went back home to be with him.
i'm still struggling a bit with coming to terms with his diagnosis, so updates might be a bit slower for the time being. plus i go back to grad school next week. just be patient with me please <3 love you guys so much
Chapter 17: unresolved anger issues
Summary:
jake gets on tyler's nerves for the last time.
Notes:
hi lovelies i dunno how we're already at 11k hits when we were just at 10k but i'm so so happy and grateful thank you all so much i love you guys <33
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
tyler isn't having any fun at uno.
sure, it’s cool to hang out with mark, and getting hammered is a major plus, but the music is so awful. a lot of weird remixes and techno renditions of songs that should’ve just been left alone. not to mention the group of brothers they came with.
he doesn’t know them that well, aside from wonderful jake and evan. sometimes he feels bad for evan—always following jake around like some sort of servant. the few times tyler’s talked to him without jake around he was actually a decent kid, but as soon as jake’s involved evan loses all morals. it’s just pathetic.
they’ve been dickheads all night. the shit they keep saying about all the chicks in the club is rubbing tyler the wrong way. he’d usually throw in the occasional remark here or there to fit in, but not tonight. it’s just pissing him off too much. he hates jake even more now for the way he’s talked about josh, and it feels like every little thing he does is slowly chipping away at tyler’s self-restraint.
he wants to kick his ass. fantasizes about it, even—how fucking good it’d feel to put his ass in check. it’d probably be euphoric, but he just can’t. not unless he wants to risk being dropped from kdr, which he doesn’t. especially not over something as fucking dumb as jake.
so he’s trying to ignore it.
when his lips aren’t sealed around a bottle of mich ultra, his phone occupies most of his attention. it’s already late in the night and he’s past the point of having a few too many. his extremities tingle, his vision is blurred, and his inhibition is almost nonexistent. throw josh—who’s probably also had a few too many—into the mix, and tyler’s saying all types of shit he’s bound to regret in the morning.
so lame that ur not art midway rn
ditch ur friends snd comd to uno
noo u ditch urs
wanns ee you
i wans see you too
my friendsr better thean yours so u come here
a lazy grin rests on tyler’s face. his ears are hot, but he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or because he’s excited thinking that josh wants to see him too.
no wau dont wanns see jenna u come here
ok i have an idea
what
we both ditvh and go sonewhere else together
where do u bave in mind
same place ur probsbly thinkinh
fuck.
tyler quickly glances up from his phone. nobody’s paying attention to him. he could easily slip away. tell josh to meet him outside midway. take him back home and fuck him again.
god, he wants to. he’s already hard just thinking about it.
josh is ruining him.
yeah u wnt to?
want to
but cant
fucking tease. tyler sighs, adjusting his jeans to relieve the tightness between his legs. it barely works.
fuck u
ditch themn who cares
im not s asshole like u
thts why u should jus come here
i hate u sm rn
miss me that bsd?
stfu
need me that bad?
jesus christ, tyler’s going to have a heart attack. either that or his dick is going to spontaneously combust from how hard it’s throbbing.
he needs to get a hold of himself. it’s just words on a screen. not even a big deal.
u wish
i know u do its ok
“yo, tyler,” evan’s voice rings out. he chooses to ignore it.
u dont kniw anythng
“dude,” jake speaks up now. “that chick is totally checking you out.”
tyler barely even glances up from the screen—throws a glance in the direction jake nods just enough to notice the short blonde, then turns his attention back to his phone.
i do
i know how bsd u want me
“that’s nice,” he replies distractedly, thumbs dragging over the keyboard.
acting likr u dont wsnt me too
“what’s wrong with you, man?” jake badgers, elbowing him. “usually you’re all over that.”
“i don’t know,” tyler grumbles, shooting daggers. “can’t you fuck off?”
“who’re you texting?”
he leans over tyler’s shoulder, but tyler’s quicker—tucking it in his pocket before jake has the chance to see anything. “no one.”
“leave him alone, man,” mark steps in. “he just broke up with jenna.”
tyler grits his teeth. “for the last time—we were never together.”
they laugh like he’s telling a joke, like his words don’t mean shit. it makes his blood boil.
“come on, tyler,” evan prods. “who gives a fuck about jenna? use this chick and get over her already.”
“yeah, don’t be a little bitch,” jake snickers.
he just has to run his mouth. every goddamn day, jake finds a way to piss him off. tyler’s chest tightens, heat boilding under his skin until it feels like his veins might burst.
“shut the fuck up,” he mutters, fists curling so tight his nails dig into his palms.
“you’re being a pussy.”
“come on. man up.”
“what’re you—scared?”
“you’re acting like a fucking fag.”
the word detonates in tyler’s skull. he grows so hot with rage he can hardly breathe, every muscle in his body begging to swing. it would feel so good to crack his knuckles against jake’s face, to make him swallow those words.
but he doesn’t move. he can’t. his spot in kdr is the only thing holding him back. he just stands there, jaw locked, tasting copper on his tongue from biting down too hard.
“dude, seriously?” mark huffs, weakly shoving jake’s shoulder, nothing to really stop him. “shut the fuck up. you can’t say that. what’s wrong with you?”
jake grins, eyes flicking between them. “oh—what? you too mark? you guys fags together?”
tyler’s chest tightens. every nerve in his body screams.
before he even thinks, his fist swings.
it connects square against jake’s jaw with a crack, his head snapping sideways, spit flying. jake collapses in a crumpled heap, and for a brief second tyler just stares, trembling from the rush of pure, blinding rage.
pain shoots up his knuckles, sharp and tingling, but he barely registers it. all he can think about is how satisfying it would feel to grab jake by the collar, to hit him again, and again, until he’s nothing but a disgusting, bloody mess.
“oh shit!” mark gasps, voice distant.
“what the fuck, bro?” evan shouts, kneeling beside jake. tyler barely notices, barely hears.
people start to gather, murmurs and shocked gasps washing over the crowd, but it doesn’t break his daze. his chest heaves, adrenaline and anger making his pulse pound in his ears.
what finally snaps him out of it is his hand suddenly feeling like it’s on fire. it’d barely been a week since he punched the hole in his wall, and it didn’t even have time to fully heal before getting thrown at something else. granted, jake’s face has a lot more give than a wall, but still.
“hey!”
his head snaps in the direction of the bouncer heading right for them.
mark grabs his arm, tugging toward the exit. “dude, let’s go.”
they bolt, shoulders knocking into strangers, beer sloshing onto tyler’s shirt as they shove through the crowd, the noise of the bar roaring in his ears. they escape before the bouncer has any idea what just happened or who did it.
the night’s cool air does little to calm him. his hands won’t stop trembling, and it feels like his whole body is vibrating from the inside out, blood still hammering in his ears. each stomp of his feet against the pavement feels too heavy, like he’s barely in control of them.
he trails after mark to the corner, and only when they finally stop does it all slam into him at once. his knuckles throb, his throat is dry, and the realization of what he’s done makes his stomach twist.
“holy shit,” mark says, leaning against the side of the walgreens to catch his breath. he starts out chuckling, but it quickly spills into full-fledged laughter. “no way that just happened!”
tyler gives a halfhearted huff, flexing and squeezing his fist to test it. it stings, the dull ache pulsing in time with his racing heart, but it doesn’t feel broken.
what the fuck did he just do?
“i can’t believe i did that…” he says weakly, shaking his head in disbelief. he’s still buzzing, chest heaving like he’s run a mile.
mark is borderline cackling, gasping for air as he doubles over, clutching his stomach. “that was fucking awesome, tyler. jesus christ! where’d that even come from?”
“i don’t know.” his hands won’t stop trembling. the sting in his knuckles is worsening now that the heat of the moment is gone. “he really pissed me off. i wasn’t even thinking…” his words tumble into panic. “oh god. i’m fucked. i’m so fucked. i’m gonna be in so much trouble.”
“chill out, man. it’s fine,” mark says, reining himself in long enough to clap tyler on the back. “he fucking deserved that.”
“but exec-”
“exec isn’t going to kick you out for punching a homophobe. all you gotta do when they talk to you about it is tell them the shit he was saying. it’d be a bad look for them to kick you out. it’ll be fine, tyler. you know i’ll back you up.”
tyler squeezes his fist, feels the throb in his knuckles, adrenaline dissolving into dread in his gut. he really hopes mark is right. he can’t imagine what his parents would say if they found out he got expelled from his fraternity for hitting one of his brothers—especially if they learned the reason why.
“okay, can we just… go home? fuck this, dude. i wanna go to bed.”
“yeah,” mark chuckles, clapping him on the shoulder again. “gotta get you home before anyone else gets on your nerves.”
tyler finally cracks a smile. “better watch yourself.”
“i’m not scared of you,” mark shoots back, grinning. “but that was impressive as hell. i can’t believe he just… fell. like you seriously knocked him out in one hit. have you ever done that before?”
“no,” tyler admits, laughing a little, still shaky. “kinda scared me a little. felt good though.”
“i bet it did.”
as they’re about to head around the corner to walk back to kdr, a voice rings out.
“tyler? that you?”
josh has a wide grin planted on his face, jenna and debby on either side of him as they approach. tyler doesn’t even care that it’s the first time he’s seen jenna since their “breakup”, he’s absolutely over the moon to see josh.
“oh my god, hey you guys! you have no fucking idea what just happened,” mark laughs, looking to tyler for permission to share.
tyler rolls his eyes, though he’s thrilled at the opportunity for josh to hear about what he did, and why he did it.
“go ahead,” tyler mutters, trying his hardest to put on his usual annoyed-at-everything act even though he can’t stop smiling at josh.
“you guys know jake, right?” mark starts. jenna is the only one who says yes, but he waves his hand and continues on. “doesn’t matter. anyway, he was being a dick all night like usual. said some shit to tyler so i tried to defend him and then he turned it on me, and tyler knocked his ass out right in the middle of uno. one fucking punch! it was seriously fucking awesome.”
“no way,” debby says.
“you’re joking!” jenna laughs.
mark shakes his head. “i’m so deadass. and the bouncer came over so we had to run. it was crazy!”
“what did he even say?” jenna asks, turning to tyler.
“uhhh…” he hesitates. “you know… the, uh… the f slur.”
“fag?” josh raises an eyebrow.
heat creeps up tyler’s neck. “uh, yeah. that one.”
josh’s lips twitch. his head tilts to the side like a dog. “why would he say that?”
tyler knows exactly what he’s implying. heat rushes up his face to the tips of his ears. he swallows thickly, giving a small shrug. “i don’t know. because i didn’t care about the girl he was telling me to get with. it was whatever, but then he said it to mark, and i just lost it. i barely even remember hitting him. my hand fucking hurts though.”
tyler shakes his hand for dramatic effect. a chorus of giggles erupt from them, save for josh who just stands there, quietly smiling at tyler like he couldn’t be more proud.
that’s all he cares about at the end of the day. even if the executive board decides he needs to face some sort of repercussion, he can deal with it knowing josh thought he did the right thing. that’s all that matters.
“anyway,” mark says, “we were just about to head back to the house so this idiot can’t get in any more fights.”
“we just left midway,” jenna explains, “we’re going to get food if you guys wanna come?”
as much as tyler would kill to be around josh right now, he can’t stomach the thought of having to hang out with him and jenna. something about it feels wrong.
“nah, i’m beat honestly. probably just gonna go to bed.”
“but,” mark says quickly, earning a side-eye from tyler. “we’re tailgating tomorrow morning before the game. you guys are more than welcome to come. party at kdr afterwards—win or lose.”
tyler bites back a groan. he dreads the idea of having to spend any more time around jenna than he has to—planned on just telling josh to pull up to their party—but there’s nothing he can do about it now. maybe it won’t be so bad.
“sounds fun,” josh says. “guess we’ll see you guys tomorrow then.”
“awesome!” mark grins. he goes around dapping all three of them up. “night, guys. enjoy your food.”
“night,” tyler throws in. his knuckles are far too sore and swollen to dap anyone up. he gives a tight-lipped smile instead, trying to act like the wink josh sends his way doesn’t make his heart flutter.
Notes:
writing this was lowkey cathartic. feels like i got some of my own anger ab other shit off my chest 😤
Chapter 18: wake up (drank)
Summary:
josh doesn't know anything about football.
tyler nerds out.
Chapter Text
nobody on exec says a word to tyler the next day.
all that comes of it is a text from kdr’s president, jack, asking if tyler’s good. his yeah i’m good gets a thumbs up and nothing else.
that doesn’t mean nobody’s talking about it though, because pretty much everyone is.
a couple brothers are helping tyler load his truck—cases, coolers, canopies. he doesn’t remember why he even volunteered to help set up. yeah, it gives him a handful of points, but he goes to enough events that he doesn’t need them.
he’s decked out in an ohio state jersey, gray sweats with the red ohio state logo on the thigh, and a backwards ohio state hat.
his hand is still sore from last night, but it only really hurts when he clenches his fist. he hasn’t seen jake anywhere today, but he heard through the grapevine that he got suspended for a few days. it’s fucking hilarious—tyler didn’t even get a warning, yet he’s the one who caused the most damage. guess he’s not the only one sick of jake.
“you did us all a favor,” one of the guys, chris, says as he helps tyler lift a cooler into the bed of his truck. “i’m so sick of his ass. i wish they would’ve just expelled him.”
“me too,” brad admits. he leans against the truck, watching them do all the work. “i wish i was there, dude. i would pay to see him get knocked on his ass.”
“yeah!” chris laughs. “oh, man. i bet it was a beautiful sight. prolly felt fucking good, right?”
tyler nods, lips curled in a small grin. “yeah it did.”
“i wish i recorded it,” mark says, handing tyler a can of mich ultra. “but he was on the ground before i even realized you hit him.”
the can pops as tyler cracks it open, refreshing himself with a swig. he smacks his tongue, savoring the taste. nothing like an ice cold beer at 7:30 in the morning. the first of many for today. “dude, he was on the ground before i realized i hit him.”
laughter erupts from the guys, sending a pang of warmth to tyler’s chest. he smirks, satisfied, lifting himself onto the tailgate to have a seat.
“he had it coming.” chris sits beside him and claps him on the back. “good on you, man.”
honestly, tyler can’t believe he isn’t facing more backlash. he assumed everyone would rip on him for hitting jake so hard over something like that. thought they’d probably all start making fun of him too, thinking he only got so worked up because what jake was saying must’ve been true.
he’s a little dramatic sometimes.
buzz, buzz.
he digs his phone out of his pocket, feeling content even just seeing josh’s name on his screen.
so hypothetically if one did not own an ohio state jersey what would he wear to a football game?
tyler scoffs, shaking his head.
oh my god you literal loser
how do you not have a jersey
why would i have one?
i’ve never been to a game
what is wrong with you josh
like actually
you’ve never been to a game?
yep that’s what i just said
just wear an osu shirt
that’s no fun
“be right back,” he announces, sliding off the tailgate.
“where you going?” mark asks. “we gotta go!”
“gotta grab something,” tyler calls over his shoulder, rushing inside the house.
fine i’ll bring you one
aw how sweet
tyler rolls his eyes at the message, trying to convince himself he’s annoyed when in reality he’s giddy at the idea of josh wearing something of his.
god, he’s fucked in the head.
whatever
i’m only doing it because i feel bad for you
if that’s what you gotta tell yourself ;p
tyler races upstairs to his room, grabbing the first jersey he sees in his closet. he doesn’t realize until he’s back outside that it just so happens to be his newest one—he hasn’t even worn it yet. he debates going back inside to switch it, but mark starts bitching about how they should’ve been there thirty minutes ago.
got it. we’re heading out now
when u leaving?
“okay, god,” tyler mutters. he chugs the rest of his beer, crushing the empty can in his good fist and tossing it on the porch before climbing in his truck. “nobody’s waiting on us, y’know. they’ve got plenty of booze there already.”
“i just want to get there,” mark counters, sliding in the passenger seat. “plus, we’ve got the canopies.”
soon i think
about to order the uber
tyler likes the message and puts his phone away. his f150 roars to life as brad and chris join them in the backseat. he tosses the jersey to mark. “hold that.”
“what’s this for?” mark holds it up, examining the last name of the wide receiver on the back as tyler pulls out of the parking lot behind the house.
“nothing,” he says quickly, shooting a glance at chris in the rearview mirror. he’s staring out the window, half-drank corona in hand. “just shut up.”
he feels marks eyes on him, but trains his gaze straight ahead, focusing on the road instead.
“whatever you say, bro.”
⏭
it doesn’t take long to fully set up.
kdr has their own section in one of the grassy back lots, away from all the parents and alumni. a couple canopies are set up between a few of the brothers’ (including tyler’s) trucks. someone brought a grill and a few guys have taken on the task of pumping out burgers and hotdogs for breakfast.
from the canopies hang various osu and kdr flags. a few tables are set up for games—pong, die, stack. tyler knocks on the die table as soon as he lays eyes on it, claiming his spot in line.
there’s already a decent crowd gathered. a lot of other frats tailgate back here too, so there’s a lot of mixing and mingling. most unaffiliated students make rounds at each section for the free booze—and boy, does kdr have a ton to offer.
technically open containers are illegal, but for some reason you can walk around with a drink as long as it’s in a red solo cup. they have a good couple hundred or so stashed away in the back of one of the trucks for that reason.
tyler opens his second beer of the morning and just finishes pouring it into a cup when josh pokes through the sea of bodies. they mirror each other's smiles, though tyler’s is a lot more tight-lipped.
“found you,” josh says.
“when’d you get here?” tyler asks. he opens the cooler filled with seltzers, knowing josh would turn down a beer. “drink?”
“couple minutes ago. saw brad. he said i’d find you by the drinks.” he glances over the options. “yeah, i’ll take one.”
tyler raises an eyebrow. “you asked him where i was?”
“yeah. so what?”
“nothing.” tyler shakes his head, turning fully to the cooler so josh can’t see how hard he’s trying not to smile. “what’dya want?”
“uhmm… white claw’s fine. black cherry.”
the ice bites at his hand as tyler grabs a can. he sets his own drink on top of the cooler so he can open and pour josh’s for him.
“thanks,” he says, taking the cup. “how’s your hand?”
“it’s-” tyler falters as josh takes his hand into his own, lifting his knuckles to examine them, gently running his thumb along the soft bruises.
“still hurt?”
tyler swallows hard. his instincts scream at him to yank his hand free, but he’s frozen in place. he hates to admit how nice the warmth of josh’s hand cupping his feels.
“a little. it’s fine,” he croaks, mouth suddenly dry.
josh hums thoughtfully. he releases tyler’s hand, his grip lingering, their fingers slowly sliding against each other before breaking apart. “you got my jersey?”
his hand is still warm with josh’s touch. it’s… nice. it freaks him out a bit. he’s quick to replace the absence of josh with his vape, clutching it tightly in his palm.
“you mean my jersey,” he huffs, pausing to take a hit. “yes, i brought it. come on.”
he leads josh to his truck, expertly weaving through the mass of bodies that seems to be growing indefinitely. it’s not the first home game of the season, but it is the first of october. cooler weather means less sweating means more people day-drinking.
“you drive this?” josh asks, patting the white exterior of his f150. “it’s… actually nice.”
“what—you thought i’d drive some rundown piece of shit?” tyler can’t help but snort. he’s very particular about what kinds of vehicles he drives. all throughout high school, he refused to take his mom’s minivan anywhere. downright wouldn’t do it. that thing was embarrassing.
“not that. it’s clean. cleaner than i expected.”
guess he’s got a point. it’s not a secret that tyler isn’t the tidiest—his room’s a mess more often than not—but this is different. this is his baby.
“surprise,” he deadpans. the passenger door opens with a soft pop.
they’re away from the crowd over here, but tyler doesn’t expect it when josh suddenly closes in, stepping right into his space and crowding him against the open passenger door. the cool plastic digs lightly into his back, his body boxed in before he can react. josh is close enough that tyler catches a faint whiff of that amber and sandalwood cologne under the lingering smell of beer and grill smoke.
“you look really cute,” josh says quietly, eyes tracing over him.
tyler opens his mouth but all that comes out is a strangled noise. heat floods his face, tinting his skin a dark shade of pink. his hand meets josh’s chest, but he doesn’t push him away, just kinda digs his fingers in as he stammers, “sh-shut the fuck up.”
josh licks his lips, gaze dropping to tyler’s mouth. “kinda wanna kiss you right now.”
tyler is frozen like a deer in headlights, trailingl his gaze along the curve of josh’s lips. then he remembers where he is. and that there’s people right over there.
“josh,” he says more firmly, though his voice comes out hoarse. he pushes him now, barely hard enough to get him to take a step back. “shut the fuck up, seriously. oh my god. what’s wrong with you? you can’t just say that shit.”
josh giggles, snatching the jersey from off the passenger seat while tyler’s brain is still short-circuiting.
he hates, hates, hates how much josh affects him. how easy it is. he’s so pathetic it hurts.
josh pulls the jersey over his band tee, tugging it down until it sits just right on his frame. the scarlet fabric pops against him, stretched across his chest. it shouldn’t hit as hard as it does, but tyler feels it in his gut, like josh just branded himself.
and—god—it looks good. too good. it makes his throat go dry, makes heat pool low in his stomach.
jesus. get a fucking grip.
he’s just wearing his clothes. big deal. it is single handedly the most stupid thing tyler’s ever gotten a boner over, but his dick has a mind of its own.
“do i look as cute as you?” josh asks, grinning wide, proud.
tyler flushes hard, snapping before he can stop himself. “god, no. shut up. hurry up.” he glances over josh’s shoulder, terrified someone might see, might know. they’ve been standing over here far too long.
but josh doesn’t budge. doesn’t even flinch. he just laughs, fingers tugging at the fabric like he knows exactly what he’s doing. like he knows it’s not just a jersey—it’s a piece of tyler.
“damn,” josh says, still grinning. “guess i really do look that good.”
tyler’s chest squeezes tight. he can’t stand how right it looks, how good. his pulse pounds in his ears, and before he can think, he slams the truck door shut.
“you’re so goddamn annoying,” he hisses, storming off, heat crawling up his neck. it’s the only way to make it stop—to put space between them, to pretend he’s irritated at josh and not at the warmth settling in his chest.
josh trails right behind him anyway, chuckling to himself. “alright, alright. i’m done.”
tyler snakes through the crowd, knowing without a doubt that josh is following right behind—just like a dog.
maybe he’s just as pathetic as tyler. maybe tyler likes that.
josh doesn’t say anything until they’re back at the coolers so tyler can fill his cup with another beer. “don’t be mad at me.”
“i’m not,” tyler mutters through gritted teeth, sipping his drink as it begins to foam over the edge. “you’re just- you-” he pauses with a sigh, lowering his voice. “don’t do shit like that when there’s other people around.”
“there wasn’t anyone around. you’re paranoid,” josh counters, pouring himself another drink as well. “loosen up.”
tyler opens his mouth to argue, but mark suddenly claps him on the shoulder. “there you are! s’our turn on table. you ready?”
he’d completely forgotten he even knocked, but he’s not about to turn down the opportunity to play die. he turns to josh. “y’wanna watch?”
josh smirks, amused. “sure.”
“mark sucks,” tyler warns as they head to the table, snorting at mark’s offended hey!, “so don’t expect us to win.”
“i don’t even know how this game works,” josh admits, trailing behind them.
“seriously?” tyler groans, shaking his head like it’s criminal. “this is the greatest drinking game ever invented.”
josh tilts his head, squinting at the setup. “looks… simple.”
“it is,” tyler insists. “just watch, you’ll pick it up—you’re smart.”
josh’s brows lift, a slow grin tugging at his mouth. “yeah? i’m smart?”
tyler forces out a laugh, ears burning. “shut up. pay attention.”
luckily the other team calls out “die!” right then, saving him from having to explain further.
why did he say that? it just slipped right out. he’s not supposed to be nice to josh. he should be teasing, bullying, trying everything in his power to make josh hate him sooner rather than later.
it’s already bad enough that they now text almost all day long—that tyler’s starting to feel more comfortable with him. he knows he needs to shut this down, but he just… can’t. as hard as it is to admit, everything going to shit in the future might be worth it if it means he gets to savor this little secret thing they have going on for now.
afterwards, he can go back to normal. he can go back to hating everyone, and everything, and shutting everyone out to protect himself from it ever happening again. yeah.
but for now… this works. it’s terrifying yet exhilarating, and he might as well try to enjoy the ride before the car inevitably crashes.
he and mark end up losing, but he doesn’t even care. it just means he gets to go back to hanging out with josh. they spend the entire tailgate with each other—talking, drinking, joking around. josh flirts occasionally and tyler pretends to get all mad even as his face turns bright red.
it’s fun. he genuinely has a good time—unlike most other events where he’s condemned to meaningless small talk with people he couldn’t care less about. being around josh feels different.
hours slip by. the more they drink, the closer they lean, laughing too hard at nothing. by the time they head into the stadium, everyone’s too drunk to notice or care.
their seats line up with mark on his left, josh on his right, debby and jenna beyond him.
“y’know,” josh leans close so tyler can hear over the roar, “i don’t know a thing about football. never seen a game.”
“no way.” tyler gapes, grinning. “no one in your family watches?”
“they do. i just… don’t get it.”
“wan’ me to explain?” the words come out softer than he intends.
josh smiles like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “okay.”
tyler clears his throat. “so, offense tries to score, defense tries to stop ‘em. you score with touchdowns, field goals, blah blah blah. you get four tries—downs—to go ten yards. if not, you punt.”
josh nods slowly, frowning. “uh-huh…”
tyler chuckles, giving his shoulder a quick pat. “it’ll make sense the longer you watch.”
and it seems to—sort of. from the moment the game starts, josh peppers him with questions. every play, no matter how tiny, he’s nudging tyler for an explanation. if it were anyone else, tyler would lose his shit. but it’s josh. he’s glad to explain. proud, even. it feels good, being the one with answers.
after a while, tyler jumps into teaching mode, automatically explaining what happened and why after each play. he figures josh will ask anyway, so might as well.
once josh starts getting the hang of how the game works, he takes it upon himself to start teasing tyler about his extensive football knowledge. it’s near the end of the third quarter when he smirks at one of tyler’s over-explanations, mumbling, “who’s the nerd now, huh?”
“i’m not a nerd.” tyler scowls, though his ears burn.
“everyone’s a nerd about something. it’s not a bad thing.”
“you’re the one asking me questions,” tyler argues. “i’m just being nice.”
“sure,” josh says, then leans in just enough to whisper, “nerd.”
tyler’s fists clench at his side. he fixes his eyes on the field, jaw tight.
it’s fine. he’s fine. josh is trying to make him mad.
he falls silent, focused on the game. ohio state is on the five yard line on a fourth down. they decide to go for it instead of kicking a field goal.
tyler holds his breath as the center hikes the ball. one of the wide receivers catches it just within the bounds of the endzone. the stadium erupts in a roar of cheers, students jumping up and down and high-fiving each other.
that is—until the yellow flag hits the field. holding. ten yard penalty. replay fourth down.
“are you fucking kidding?” tyler yells, throwing his hands up. “come on! that’s bullshit.”
“what?” josh tugs his sleeve, wide-eyed. “tyler, what just happened?”
oh, sure. now he wants tyler’s nerdy insight.
“i don’t fucking know.” the words snap out harsher than he means. he rips his arm free. “figure it out yourself.”
“damn,” josh mumbles. “i strike a nerve?”
tyler grinds his teeth. “i’m not a fucking nerd.”
“oh yeah?” josh snickers to himself for a moment. “just like you’re not gay?”
the words hit like a slap. tyler’s breath catches in his chest. he doesn’t look at josh. he refuses. instead, he forces a blank stare ahead, jaw clamped so tightly it hurts. “whatever,” he mutters.
josh has no idea just how much he’s seething inside—no idea that tyler’s only furious because he might actually be right.
Notes:
big things are happening like ... fairly soon
also bear with me because the pacing of this story is so bad like there's times where i have 5 chapters all written over the course of a couple days and then sometimes there's days or a week between chapters like it's fine don't worry about it
Chapter 19: i'm talking 'bout in it
Summary:
things aren't the same as the first time around.
tyler's not sure how to feel about it.
Notes:
we've reached 13k eeee thank you guys so much for your support on this silly story it seriously means so much to me :')
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
tyler’s riding the high of ohio state winning by a landslide as they make their way back to his truck. all the drinks have long caught up to him, hitting him full force. he’s all giggly and stumbling left and right, accidentally (purposely) bumping into josh over and over again, a permanent smile etched on his face.
he ignored josh for pretty much the remainder of the game, but after such a colossal win, how could he stay mad? josh’s remark is long forgotten, shoved deep into the recesses of tyler’s mind for him to rediscover at a later date.
“you’re all coming back to the house, right?” mark asks. “gonna be partying all night.”
it’s barely 4pm, and they’ve already been partying all day, but tyler can rally. he loves days like this—everyone collectively agreeing it’s normal (healthy, even) to waste their day doing nothing other than damaging their livers.
“yeah, right?” jenna looks to debby, who nods in confirmation.
“sounds fun,” josh says, casting tyler a knowing grin at the way he perks up.
he gets to spend more time with josh. today is a great day.
“ty, gimme your keys.” mark holds out his palm, wagging his fingers.
tyler huffs, fishing his keys out of his pocket nonetheless. he’s in no condition to be driving, but mark’s sobered up. he didn’t have much to drink anyway, and he’s only had water for the past three hours.
it wasn’t agreed upon for him to be the designated driver, but tyler’s the type to drink now and worry about getting home later, whereas mark is the opposite—worry about getting home now, drink later. it works out perfectly every time.
as soon as the truck is in sight, jenna calls out, “shotgun!”
“ohhhh no, no, no!” tyler shouts, waving his finger. “that’s not fair.”
“it’s totally fair. that’s the rules of shotgun, tyler. you snooze, you lose.”
tyler grits his teeth. “s’my fucking truck. i get shotgun.”
“doesn’t matter.” tyler’s head snaps towards josh, eyes wide. “she called it first.”
wow. how could josh turn on him like that?
tyler doesn’t respond, just sighs and glares at the ground. he should automatically get dibs on shotgun because it’s his seat. he literally owns it.
whatever. at least he doesn’t have to sit next to her.
to make matters worse, he somehow ends up in the middle of josh and debby. she refused to sit between them, and josh decided it should be tyler because he's smaller.
it’s a load of bullshit. he’s barely smaller. josh is just more… fit. that’s all. not that tyler isn’t, because he’s totally fit, but he’s lean. josh has bigger muscles. thicker thighs. a wider frame.
“shit,” josh mutters, his voice snapping tyler out of his head.
he blinks the thoughts away, face heating up as he realizes he’s been staring at how josh’s thigh presses against his.
“what?” his brows furrow in confusion at the sight of josh digging his fingers into his eye. “what the hell are you doing?”
“lost a contact,” josh says, then leans forward to ask mark directly, “can we stop at my place on the way?”
huh? tyler didn’t even know that was possible. poor josh.
he copies josh in leaning towards mark. “s’not far,” he offers, trying to help.
mark tosses a quick glance his way. “how do you know that?”
tyler—the drunk idiot he is—can’t think of an appropriate response. all he can do is giggle, sitting back in his seat. he catches the grin on josh’s face before he purses his lips, quickly averting his gaze out the window.
“it’s just a couple blocks away,” josh says.
mark watches them in the rearview mirror. “yeah, of course. just tell me where i’m going.”
it’s not a long drive to josh’s apartment. tyler spends most of it with his eyes closed, head dropped against the seat’s headrest, enjoying the feeling of his body swaying with the motion of the truck.
there’s just something about being wasted in the backseat of a vehicle that feels so freeing—no awareness of what’s happening outside, no worries, no cares. mark could drive off a cliff and tyler would just enjoy the feeling of flying before they hit the ground.
his eyes flutter open when the truck rolls to a stop, the familiar beige brick exterior of josh’s apartment in sight. a smile pulls at tyler’s lips, but it quickly vanishes when josh gets out of the truck, taking his warmth with him.
with a small huff, he lets his eyes close again. he’s exhausted—woke up too early, drank too much, went too hard. might as well try to get in a two-minute power nap to recharge.
somehow, he does doze off, but it only lasts a minute. the force of the door opening rocks him awake, but it’s the sight that shocks him into jolting upright.
josh’s glasses—those circular, metal frames—rest on the bridge of his nose. they soften him, make him look younger.
josh grins lopsidedly. “okay, ready.”
tyler’s fighting another bout of giggles, but it’s less about being drunk now and more about the way his chest twists.
when mark says, “i didn’t know you even wore glasses,” tyler blurts, “doesn’t he look like a dork?” all too fast, too defensive, like he has to laugh it off before anyone notices how hard he’s staring.
mark scoffs, shaking his head. “you’re such an ass.”
“yeah, tyler. you’re such an ass,” josh repeats with a teasing grin that just makes tyler giggle more.
he bumps his knee against josh’s and pretends to be annoyed when josh bumps him back, though it erupts a frenzy of butterflies in his stomach and a warmth in his chest.
they’re back at kdr within minutes. even before mark pulls into the parking lot, the bass of the music rattles through the truck’s frame, shouts and laughter spilling from the yard. stepping out is like being hit with a wall of noise, the air thick with beer.
because they made a pitstop at josh’s, there’s already a fuck ton of people crowding the lawn, all dressed in their game day gear and totally shitfaced. tyler’s so eager to join, he practically shoves through josh to climb out of the truck.
he knows josh is right behind him without needing to glance over his shoulder. everyone else comes along, though he doesn’t care about them. smug grin planted firmly in place, tyler stumbles over the lawn, heading for the game of stack cup that’s being set up.
“y’ever played stack?”
“you’re gonna make me, aren’t you?”
“what—you suck at this too?” tyler snickers.
“i don’t-” he cuts himself off with an exasperated sigh. “whatever. yeah. sorry i don’t spend my free time playing drinking games.”
mark snorts, earning a glare from tyler. “i don’t either. i’m just naturally athletic.”
“athletic?” josh repeats with a laugh. “come on. be serious.”
“i am!” tyler insists. the tips of his ears burn at the look of amusement on josh’s face. “these games take skill, okay?” he mutters, pushing josh’s shoulder. “you’ll see. i’m gonna kick your ass.”
josh chuckles, shaking his head as he takes the spot at the table beside tyler. “fine, but you can’t brag about it when i already told you i suck.”
“yes i can,” tyler argues.
mark settles on his other side. he ignores whatever argument josh fires back, instead tuning in as he overhears mark telling jenna, “i’m surprised you’re not mad they’re suddenly friends.”
“yeah,” she laughs. “not sure how that happened… but it’s fine, y’know? tyler and i are on good terms, and they’re so funny together—how could i be mad?”
tyler huffs a small sigh of relief. he’d just been assuming they were on good terms, but it feels good to hear her confirm it. like he doesn’t have to carry around this weight thinking she hates him and he’s unforgivable.
he did the right thing. maybe one day it won’t feel so awkward to be around her. maybe they could really be friends, not this weird in between where they’re both afraid to step on the other’s toes.
the game starts, so tyler shoves the thought aside. it doesn’t take any longer than a minute for the first cup to make its way around the table to him. he bounces the pingpong ball effortlessly against the table and straight into the cup, passing it off to josh.
“better hurry up,” he taunts, watching the second cup move closer and closer to his possession.
“shut up,” josh mutters. his brow furrows in concentration, tongue poking from between his teeth.
he bounces once and misses. he bounces twice and misses. he bounces a third time, and the other cup is passed to tyler. the moment he digs the ball out of the cup, josh finally makes the shot and passes the cup along.
“you’re lucky,” tyler says. he lands his ball on the first bounce and slides the cup to josh, smirking.
to josh’s right is mike, who makes the shot on his first try. the rule is if you make it first try, you get to pass the cup to anyone at the table. mike lifts the cup over josh’s to set it back in front of tyler, saying, “get him, man.”
“shit.” josh grows more frantic, which only makes each aim less accurate.
tyler easily sinks the ball, slamming his cup overtop of josh’s to stack them. “get fucked.”
josh grabs one of the many cups from the middle, sending a glare in tyler’s direction as he chugs the beer. while he does that, mike takes the stack and, again, makes the shot on the first try. he passes the stack back to tyler, who sinks the cup right as josh sits his empty one on the table.
“ha!” tyler mocks, stacking his cups on top of josh’s again. “drink up, josh.”
“i hate you.” josh passes the stack off to mike while he grabs another cup from the middle, cringing as the beer goes down. “god. gross.”
tyler laughs as mike once again sends the stack back to him, this time making his shot before josh can even finish the beer in his cup. he gives an innocent smile when josh finally lowers the cup from his lips, and stacks his on top before josh can even put it down.
“you fucking serious?” josh groans. “stop.”
“you’re stuck in the vortex, dude,” tyler grins. “just get better.”
josh rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath about how he’s going to throw up if he has to drink anymore beer as he grabs another cup from the center.
mike fails to make his first shot, flipping tyler off when he complains, “oh, come on, man!”
“fuck you, joseph,” he shoots back, huffing in frustration as josh stacks on him. “shit.”
josh turns to tyler with a grin, eyebrows raised like he expects a compliment. tyler shakes his head, playful smile curved on his lips. he pats josh on the back patronizingly. “you weren’t kidding. you suck.”
“i hate you,” josh replies, still smiling wide as ever.
for a moment, tyler forgets about the game. his gaze drops to josh’s mouth, then back up to those pools of amber glimmering in the reflection of the sun as it hits his lenses. his hand stills against josh’s shoulder blade, fingers curling in slightly, feeling the fabric of the jersey he let him borrow.
then, as suddenly as he was pulled in, tyler snaps out of it. he quickly turns back to the game, his palm itching, yearning to feel josh again.
damn him. it’s those stupid glasses. and that dumb smile. and why does he look so good in red?
the game ends in about five minutes, with no more opportunities for tyler to show josh up. he only got stacked on once himself, and although he’s still very much feeling the effects of the beer had drank earlier, his throat aches for more.
“i have to pee so bad,” debby says, hooking her arm around jenna’s. “come with me?”
“yeah, come on.” jenna pulls her towards the house.
“well,” mark looks up from his phone to scan the crowd, “lindsay says she’s here somewhere. i’m gonna go find her. catch up with you guys later?”
“sure, man. use a condom,” tyler smirks.
mark cringes, shaking his head. “shut up, bro. what’s wrong with you?” he leaves with that, ignoring tyler’s giggling.
“it wasn’t even funny,” josh says, concealing his mouth with his palm.
“that’s why you’re trying not to laugh?”
“i am not.”
“are too.” tyler’s fingers close around josh’s wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. josh tries, but ultimately fails to stifle his laughter, making tyler light up with a grin of his own. “look at you. you think i’m funny.”
josh eyes the grip tyler has on him, denying it even as his smile stays in place. “you wish.”
tyler quickly lets go of him, chuckling. “sure.” he’s still itching for a drink. “come on.”
“where're we going?” josh asks, but doesn’t hesitate to follow him inside.
“shots.”
josh groans, but doesn’t put up a fight. the crowd inside is much more sparse—mostly just people waiting to use the bathroom or taking a break from all the noise. the kitchen is empty when they enter, much to tyler’s pleasure. nobody to bother them.
he grabs the bottle of peach new amsterdam marked with his initials from the freezer.
“white girl wasted?” josh chuckles, reading tyler’s shot glass.
“yeah.” he fills his first. “someone gave it to me for my birthday one year. thought it was pretty funny, so i kept it.”
josh hums. “i like it.”
tyler beams, filling up a plain shot glass for josh. “thanks. here.” he slides it across the table, and they lift them in sync. “cheers.”
“cheers,” josh echoes, clinking their shots together.
they knock them back, warmth soothing the ache in tyler’s throat, heat chasing the liquor as it travels down his chest.
“god,” josh coughs, face scrunched in a wince. “that’s disgusting.”
tyler grins watching him, licking the peach residue from his lips. he’s not sure if it’s the courage from the flames settling in his stomach, or the fuzzy nerve-endings in his brain, but tyler isn’t thinking right.
“you do look really fucking good, by the way,” he says lowly, eyes slowly dragging over josh.
josh grins, teeth fully on display. tyler wants to feel them sink into his neck. “yeah? you think so?”
“mhm.” he swallows thickly as josh suddenly traps him against the counter, having to lean back on his elbows to get some distance. “josh, i-” he quickly glances over josh’s shoulder, pulse pounding in his ears. “stop. someone’s gonna see us.”
“see what? how red your face is right now? how fast you’re breathing?”
“wh-what? i am not…”
josh’s palms are braced against the counter at either side of him, their lower stomachs just barely grazing. tyler can smell his cologne lingering on his skin, and it makes his throat ache in the same way it does when he craves a drink or a hit of his vape.
“no?” josh’s head tilts, his tone mocking. his eyes lower to where tyler’s chest rises and falls with short, rapid breaths.
“josh, really. can you just…” he huffs, fixing his gaze on the door behind josh.
“just… what?” josh’s voice is soft and airy—way too innocent for the predatory smirk etched on his lips. he lifts a hand from the counter to grab tyler’s hip, thumb digging into bone as he presses him tighter against the counter, granite edge cutting into his lower back. “stop?”
tyler’s breath hitches, all the blood in his head rushing straight to his cock, leaving him dizzy. he can barely breathe, let alone form a response, so he just blinks, eyes wide.
“no. you don’t want me to stop, huh?” josh chuckles to himself, thinking out loud. his other hand snakes below the hem of tyler’s jersey, the tips of his fingers warm as they press in right above his waistband. “you’re just afraid someone’s gonna see how bad you want me, is that it?”
tyler’s going to melt into a puddle of mush. he wouldn’t be surprised if his brain started leaking out of his ears.
he hates how true it is, hates that it makes his cock throb harder anyway.
he nods, ears flaming, jaw clenched tight. he’s afraid if he were to open it just the slightest, a slew of utterly pitiful, downright shameful pleas would fall from his lips.
voices approach from the other room. panic surges, but josh is off of him before tyler can react, leaving him bright red and speechless.
a few brothers enter the kitchen, slurring drunken greetings at tyler. he can barely even crack a smile—his heart is pounding impossibly fast.
they almost just got caught, but somehow the thrill leaves tyler wanting him even more. thankfully, he doesn’t have to voice this to josh, who is already on his way.
the roles have switched now. tyler is the one wordlessly following josh this time, like he’s the true dog. maybe he is. it’s almost embarrassing, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it like this—forced into submission, no choice but to accept his place and give in to his one weakness.
josh.
you wouldn’t know he had it in him just by looking at him. you’d assume their dynamic would be reversed. tyler likes that it’s not. he likes that he doesn’t feel like he has to pretend he’s someone he’s not—not with josh.
he can be his true, disgusting, pathetic, authentic self. and for some reason josh doesn’t seem to mind.
before tyler’s bedroom door has time to click shut, josh’s lips are on his—hot and urgent, tasting faintly of beer. his hands desperately roam tyler’s chest, gripping the jersey, pulling him along as he walks backwards towards the bed.
every bell is sounding in tyler’s head, but it’s unlike anything he’s experienced before. there’s no guilt, no fear—just intensely raw, guttural want.
it should feel scary. this all feels so different from the first time he and josh hooked up.
it is different. they actually know each other now. there’s some very obviously lingering… thing… going on between them that makes this feel like it could mean more now than just sex.
but when josh is pulling tyler onto his lap, when his nails drag down his back and his lips feel more intoxicating than any drink he’s ever consumed, how could tyler let any of that get to his head?
all he knows is josh, josh, josh and more, more, more.
they kiss until their lips are swollen, and then they kiss some more—tongues swirling, teeth clashing, josh’s glasses smudging against the tip of tyler’s nose.
they kiss until they’re breathless and tyler’s no longer able to sit still, his cock throbbing so hard he’s left rolling his hips against josh’s.
it’s electrifying—feels better than he knew possible. he desperately bites back the whimper building in his chest, fist tightened around blue hair as he mindlessly ruts against josh.
“wait, tyler,” josh says suddenly, lifting his face from tyler’s neck. he holds his hips in place, lips parted with soft breaths, his usually shimmery puppy-dog eyes now black with arousal.
tyler’s immediately whining, clutching josh’s jersey to use it for leverage to grind against him again. “no, no, please. you started it. fuck me. please, josh. please.”
tomorrow, he’ll hate himself for it. he’ll cringe remembering how pathetic he was. but for tonight, that doesn’t matter. it’s been a week since he’s had josh’s lips wrapped around his cock, three since he’s felt him inside, and it feels like a fucking lifetime. he won’t survive much longer without it.
“i know, but- like-” josh huffs, eyes momentarily rolling back as tyler’s dick rubs against his. “jesus christ. hold on, wait.”
“oh my god, what?” tyler groans, white-knuckling the fabric of josh’s jersey so tightly his hands tremble.
“tyler…” josh pauses with a sigh, fingertips brushing over his spine. “i like you, and i- let’s just- we should take it slow.”
the words knock the air out of him. not because he doesn’t want it, but because it’s too much—too soft, too dangerous. he’d rather be fucked than loved.
he lets out a strangled noise, quick to brush over it so he can get what he wants. “josh, i like you too, but come on. you’ve already fucked me. please just do it. please. i don’t care.”
josh is quiet for a moment, fingers still feathering across tyler’s back while his other hand comes up to caress his cheek. slowly, his lips curl into a grin. “we’ve got this all backwards.”
“who cares? it’s fine. just shut up and fuck me already,” tyler mutters, rolling his eyes. even with the attitude, he finds himself leaning into josh’s touch, savoring the warmth of his palm.
josh huffs a soft chuckle. “you want it that bad?” he asks. his gaze is far too tender for the occasion, thumb grazing over his cheekbone.
“stop looking at me like that,” tyler grumbles. he rolls his lower lip between his teeth, enjoying the tingling sensation it sends through the swollen flesh. a slight chill nips at his skin as tyler pulls his jersey over his head, chucking it on the ground without a care.
“like what?” josh asks, removing his (tyler’s) own jersey and tossing it aside. he shamelessly lowers his gaze, fingertips outlining the path his eyes follow over tyler’s chest, all the way down his belly.
“that,” tyler emphasizes, grabbing josh’s chin and tilting his head back up. he’s got the dopiest grin, like he knows exactly what he’s doing and isn’t about to stop just because tyler said so.
“not my fault you look so good.”
heat floods tyler’s face, but before he can react, josh grabs his ass, pulling his hips back down against him. a moan interrupts the arguments he’s ready to spew, their clothed cocks dragging together, the fabric of their sweatpants bunching between them.
“shit.” tyler breathes shakily, gripping the hair at the base of josh’s skull. he rolls his hips in time with josh bucking up towards him, the friction of their cocks sending tingles down his spine. “oh god.”
josh attaches his lips to tyler’s neck, nipping and sucking at the spot above his collarbone. it’s hard enough to leave a nice bruise behind, but tyler lets him have at it. he’s thrilled to be branded, even if they’re the only ones who know where they came from.
…especially because they’re the only ones.
they grind on each other for a few minutes, josh marking him up with little care, until tyler can’t take it anymore. he pulls josh off by the hair, heart fluttering at his blissful grin—like he’d be perfectly happy humping each other all night long. “come on, josh.”
“alright, alright.”
he hooks his hands beneath tyler’s ass, lifting him as he stands. it catches tyler off guard, his arms wrapping tightly around josh’s neck to keep himself up, drunken giggles spilling out.
they’re all smiles and flushed cheeks as josh climbs on the bed, laying tyler down. as his head meets the pillow, it knocks the backwards hat off his head, revealing the flattened mess of hair beneath. tyler blindly fumbles for it, wanting to put it back on, but josh is quicker, grabbing it before he can.
he places it backwards on his own head, concealing the frayed blue ends and limp curls. tyler nearly moans at the sight—josh in his hat, the black fabric matching the metal frames of his glasses. he looks claimed, like some part of him belongs to tyler now. the thought makes tyler’s chest ache as much as his cock does.
“fuck, you’re so hot,” he blurts out.
josh chuckles, hooking his fingers beneath the waistbands of tyler’s boxers and sweatpants. “let’s get these off.”
tyler nods quickly, lifting his hips for josh to strip him bare. his cock springs against his stomach, hot and leaking, throbbing from neglect.
“look at you,” josh murmurs. he curls his fingers around the base of tyler’s cock, giving it a few strokes, precum dripping over the edge.
tyler gasps, bucking into josh’s fist, white-knuckling the sheets. “j-josh. fuck. don’t- i- god. stop. feels too good.”
“yeah?” he thumbs at tyler’s slit, gathering the precum collecting there. his tongue lolls out of his mouth and he swipes his thumb over it, eyes locked on tyler’s.
“oh my god,” tyler whines, watching the milky fluid disappear as josh tucks his tongue back in his mouth, humming at the taste. the sight is so obscene, tyler would have for sure came if josh was still stroking him. “please, josh. just come on already.”
“sorry. you just look so cute when you’re all flustered.”
tyler huffs, heat creeping up his neck. his instinct is to tell josh to shut up, to stop trying to make this feel like it means something, but the words get caught in his throat.
he doesn’t quite mind, actually. even though his initial reaction is to lash out, he’s only worked up because he likes it. he doesn’t want to, but he can’t help it. josh wrecks him in every way.
with spoken guidance, tyler directs josh to the dresser drawer he keeps his lube and condoms stashed. he waits impatiently as josh strips, mouth watering when his cock falls out.
josh settles beside him, propping himself up on his side facing tyler. he grabs his chin, turning his head so their eyes meet. tyler swallows hard, catching the scent of josh’s cologne with every inhale, head spinning at the warmth of his skin pressed against him.
“you gonna give me a hard time?” josh asks, hoisting tyler’s leg over his own, his other spreading automatically.
tyler knows exactly what he’s referring to—he threw a fit about josh prepping him last time. but what’s already done can’t be taken back, so there’s no point in fighting it again. josh wants to, and right now tyler wants whatever josh wants.
“no,” tyler whispers, not trusting his voice won’t shake.
josh smiles, twisting to grab the lube and squirt some over his fingers, spreading it between them. “good.”
he snakes his arm beneath tyler’s head, shifting closer. warmth blooms in tyler’s chest, butterfly wings tickling his ribcage. it feels good to have josh this close—for them to be tangled up in each other, away from the rest of the world.
he wishes they could live in this moment forever.
a cool finger presses against his hole, shocking tyler out of his head. he inhales sharply, reaching for josh’s hand where it rests beside his head, clutching it tightly as josh slowly pushes his middle finger in.
josh squeezes his hand back, resting his forehead against tyler’s temple. his lips brush against his cheek as he murmurs, “fuck, you’re so tight.”
“josh,” tyler breathes in response, hips bucking against the air. “oh my god.”
“yeah?” josh coos, twisting his finger as he works tyler open. “feels good, huh?”
fire courses through tyler’s veins, lighting his face in a dark pink glow. josh’s breath fans over his cheek, voice soft and laced with affection. he’s so dazed he can barely think, just utters a weak, “uh-huh.”
josh hums, gliding his tongue over the spot beneath his ear, nipping at the lobe. he adds his ring finger after a little while, basking in tyler’s soft whines and shaky moans.
his thick fingers scissor, and curl, and stretch tyler beautifully. he hooks them just right, hitting a spot that makes tyler cry out, nails digging into the back of josh’s hand, leaving little crescent shapes behind.
“fuck!” tyler squeaks, writhing as josh relentlessly massages the fleshy button. heat quickly pools in the pit of his stomach, flames licking at the base of his spine, warning of his impending release. “stopstopstop.”
josh stills right as tyler’s about to give in.
he trembles slightly, easing his grip, whimpering meekly. the stars clouding his vision slowly dissipate. “jesus christ, josh. i almost came.”
“i know,” josh chuckles, now lazily pumping his fingers inside tyler. “i wanted you to. should’ve let me.”
“not ready yet,” tyler argues. “want you to fuck me first.”
“oh yeah?” josh muses, smirking. he pulls out, ignoring tyler’s whine of protest. “i’m that special?”
the foil package crinkles as he tears open a condom, needing both hands to roll it over his length, but he tucks his arm back beneath tyler’s head as soon as it’s on.
“no,” tyler huffs, though the red on his face betrays him. “don’t flatter yourself.”
“yeah, sure. roll over.”
tyler turns away, breath hitching as josh’s arm snakes over his stomach and yanks him closer. his back meets josh’s chest, skin sticking with heat and sweat.
josh coats himself with lube and hooks his arm beneath tyler’s leg, the underside of his knee resting in the crook of josh’s elbow.
“hold this.” he waits for tyler to wrap his own hand beneath his leg, then lines the head of his cock up with tyler’s hole, pressing in just enough that he’s able to switch back to holding tyler’s leg up.
“fuuuuck,” tyler whines, chest heaving with unsteady breaths as josh slowly splits him open. “you feel so fucking good.”
josh buries his nose in the nape of tyler’s neck, breath hot against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. “god, you’re so tight. fuck.”
tyler moans as he bottoms out, acting on instinct as he reaches for the hand resting in front of his face. josh’s fingers close around his, squeezing tightly. there isn’t a single thought in tyler’s mind that doesn’t revolve around josh, or how good he feels, or how badly he needs him.
josh pauses for a beat, letting tyler adjust, watching the soft whines that escape him. “tell me if it’s too much. you’re doing so good,” josh whispers, his eyes flicking down to meet tyler’s as his hips begin moving.
tyler trembles, overwhelmed by the sensation and the attention. “n-no… please… don’t stop,” he gasps, chest heaving.
“good,” josh says softly. he faintly registers josh’s lips pecking the back of his neck, leaving soft kisses as he sets a steady pace. he doesn’t think josh even realizes what he’s doing—how tender it is, how much it makes tyler’s chest ache.
or maybe he’s aware and just doesn’t give a shit. maybe this is him working his succubus black magic and taking what he wants because he knows tyler’s in no position to argue.
and he’s right. tyler’s too caught up in how full he feels, how deep josh reaches, to even think to tell him to stop. even if the intimacy of it all scares him a little, he’s not going to ruin this. it feels too fucking good.
tyler glances over his shoulder, wondering why josh lifts his face from his neck, but josh’s lips are on his before he can even blink. it takes a moment to register in his brain, but tyler fucking melts, surrendering completely.
he’s all ragged breaths and broken moans, swallowing the few whines josh lets slip. it isn’t until josh suddenly slams in at a different angle, hitting the spot that makes tyler’s toes curl, that tyler cries out, breaking the kiss.
“yeah? right there?” josh purrs, lips brushing against the shell of his ear.
“yeah,” tyler chokes out between moans, white-knuckling his grip on josh’s hand. “fuckfuckfuck. josh… josh… fuck.”
“that’s it. there we go. let me hear you.” josh snaps his hips faster, abusing tyler’s prostate with every thrust. without warning, he grips tyler’s cock in his fist, stroking him in rhythm with his hips.
“jooosh,” tyler mewls, skin buzzing as that familiar heat returns to his lower abdomen. “i can’t- i’m gonna- gonna- oh fuck.”
“look at me. wanna watch you when you cum.”
tyler’s too far gone to care how embarrassing it is when he turns back to look at josh. it’s a battle to keep his eyes from rolling in the back of his head, face screwed up tight other than his jaw, which is totally slack.
he cums with a shrill moan, unable to keep his eyes from fluttering shut as he spills onto his stomach and over josh’s fist. josh works him through the orgasm, murmuring sweet-nothings that make tyler’s whole body flush. “you’re so- ah- so good. so tight for me. feel so- fuck- so fucking good.”
his hips start stuttering only a few moments later, and he cums with a small whimper, face once again buried in tyler’s neck. he feels it when josh cums—his cock pulsing inside him, hot seed filling the condom, warming him from the inside out.
“oh my fucking god,” he pants, groaning at how his leg aches when josh releases it. “what the fuck…”
“yeah,” josh chuckles. he stays buried inside tyler, keeps his face against his neck, doesn’t release the hold on his hand. “you okay?”
“mhm,” tyler hums, gaze fixed on their hands. if josh doesn’t feel the need to let go, then neither does he—even if post-nut clarity is starting to sink in and he’s becoming more aware of just how intimate that all was. how intimate it still is. “you?”
“yeah. just exhausted now.”
they both groan as josh pulls out. tyler moves before his brain processes what’s happening, reaching behind josh to dig his fingers into the small of his back. josh understands what he’s asking for and stays flush against him, breathing a content sigh into his hair.
he doesn’t ask, and tyler doesn’t tell—they both know josh isn’t going home tonight.
“shouldn’t we clean you up?”
tyler huffs in protest. “don’t wanna move. comfy.”
comfy isn’t the right word. desperate is closer—desperate to keep josh pressed against him a little longer, to pretend this doesn’t have to end.
“come on. it’ll be quick.”
he’s too ashamed to admit he doesn’t want anything to change about this moment, because then it’s over, and he won’t let himself go back to it.
“fine.”
josh slips away, but tyler stays put, only rolling onto his back.
hello again, he thinks at the ceiling, at god, at whatever’s watching. sorry you always see me at my worst. sorry for what just happened. sorry i liked it.
josh throws the condom out and fetches a towel from the laundry basket. he wipes tyler clean first, then himself, putting his own boxers back on before he hands tyler his.
“you wanna take a nap?”
the sun hasn’t begun to set yet. it’s probably close to 5pm, but tyler’s exhausted—physically, mentally, emotionally. he woke up early, drank all day, and had his back blown out by the guy who makes him question everything he’s ever thought he knew about himself. that all takes a toll on a guy.
they’ll nap for a couple hours, and hopefully the guilt sinking in tyler’s bones is gone by the time they wake. if not, he’s just going to drink himself into oblivion again once they rejoin the party.
“yeah,” tyler croaks weakly. he’s just glad to have an excuse to recluse inward.
josh takes the hat off and sets it on his desk, then flicks off the lights and draws the curtains shut. tyler scooches to the furthest edge of the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling above, weighed down with guilt.
yeah, that’s right. he liked it. not that he hasn’t liked having sex with guys before, because he has, but it used to be easier to write it off as purely pleasure-based.
it feels like more with josh. it… is more with him. whether tyler wants to admit it or not, he can’t deny the truth.
the bed dips as josh settles beside him, curling up beneath the sheets. tyler hesitantly joins him beneath them, lump in his throat as josh reaches out and curls his fingers around his bicep.
“you wanna talk about it?”
tyler’s skin burns uncomfortably, hating that josh can read him so easily. “no,” he says quickly. “nothing to talk about. go to sleep.”
silence stretches between them until, finally, josh sighs. “okay.”
“okay,” tyler replies, voice tight.
in the cover of darkness, he lays there with his eyes wide open and trained up above. it doesn’t take long for josh’s grip to loosen and his breaths to even out, but tyler’s still wide awake—blinking back the sting in his eyes and breathing through the pit in his stomach.
Notes:
the ao3 curse is real btw. please, please, please be patient with me in these coming weeks. i love this story as much as you do, and trust me when i say i wish i could update more frequently, but i'm going through a lot. my brain feels like mush most days.
that being said, i have to go home again, this time for my grandma's funeral. :)))))))...... and next week is super busy for me as well (my best online friend is visiting - HI EMMA WHEN YOU READ THIS! CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU! - and i'm going to breach hershey), so i'm not sure when the next update will be. i'll work on it as quick as i can.
AND BREACH???? jesus christ. i'm still coping with the city walls mv. sigh. tyler joseph is a sick, evil, gay man.
Chapter 20: the truth comes out
Summary:
tyler has a panic attack.
josh refuses to leave his side.
Notes:
thank you guys so much for 14k hits, i'm so so grateful :') i seriously can't thank you enough <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
when tyler wakes the next morning, the room is bright with a sliver of sun. stale beer coats the back of his tongue, and warm puffs of breath fan his face from the even warmer body beside him.
josh is still fast asleep, lips parted with slow breaths, his arm heavy where it rests over tyler’s waist.
tyler swallows a wave of nausea. his stomach churns and his muscles ache, both unhappy with his lack of water.
they slept for a couple hours, then rejoined the party after their nap. tyler had to work twice as hard to get as drunk as he’d been earlier in the day, but he managed.
a lot of the night is a blur. most of it was spent with josh at his side, but they mingled with everyone instead of keeping to themselves. he doesn’t know how many different brothers he introduced josh to, can’t remember much of what was said. all he knows is josh was there throughout it all.
it’s like his brain shut off once he reached a certain point, so he could actually enjoy the night and not stay hung up on josh.
of course, that only got him so far. look where he is right now.
tyler acts on instinct when he reaches for josh, gently brushing a blue strand from his face. his fingertips feather from his temple, down the side of his face, to run along the soft stubble on his jaw.
josh stirs slightly, fingers tightening around the back of tyler’s shirt as he hums sleepily. tyler stills, waiting for josh to settle again before cupping his jaw and swiping the pad of his thumb over josh’s cheekbone.
a subconscious smile tugs at his lips, but tyler doesn’t bother trying to hide it. josh isn’t awake to see.
he looks so goddamn cute while he sleeps. his hair’s a mess, and his teeth poke out from behind his lips, and every so often his brow furrows like he’s deep in dreamland.
his skin is soft where tyler strokes his cheek. he exhales for every one of tyler’s inhales, and even though his breath makes it difficult for tyler to get any real oxygen, he doesn’t dare move.
first of all, he’s too comfy, and second of all, he has the perfect view of josh. up close like this, he can make out every pore on his nose, each soft freckle dotting his cheeks, and what looks like a tiny hole beneath his bottom lip.
did he have a piercing at some point? why would he have taken it out?
tyler can’t help it. he pokes at the hole with his thumb, inadvertently forcing josh’s lips shut.
his eyes flutter open half a second later, face scrunched in confusion. it takes a moment, but once he realizes where he’s at, he lets out a small huff and closes his eyes again.
“morning,” josh says, voice hoarse with sleep. he pecks the thumb tyler still has pressed to his lip, making a noise of complaint when tyler pulls away.
“did you have your lip pierced?”
josh trails his hand beneath the hem of tyler’s shirt, absently tracing shapes along his back. goosebumps travel across his skin, making tyler shiver slightly.
“used to, yeah.”
“why’d you take it out?”
“outgrew it,” josh says simply. he yawns directly in tyler’s face, his breath hot and smelling just as bad as tyler’s tastes. “m’so tired.”
tyler cringes, shielding his nose behind his palm. “your breath stinks.”
josh snorts. “so does yours.”
“whatever,” tyler dismisses, smiling along as josh chuckles. “you hungover?”
“eh, a little. i’m sure you have it worse.”
“yeah, probably. i’m afraid any sudden movements will make me throw up.”
josh peeks his eyes open, licking his chapped lips before asking, “that why you’re still laying with me?”
“nah.”
tyler doesn’t elaborate, and josh doesn’t ask. he’s smart enough to fill in the blanks.
“your eyes are pretty,” he says suddenly, removing his hand from beneath tyler’s shirt to instead cup his cheek the same way tyler had been doing to him.
heat crawls up tyler’s neck, undoubtedly tinting his cheeks pink.
it’s too early in the morning for this. he’s too tired. his brain is too foggy.
he wants to tell josh that his are too, but the words stay stuck in his throat. instead, he murmurs, “they’re just brown.”
josh clicks his tongue. “so are mine. you don't think my eyes are pretty?”
“i didn’t say that.” tyler frowns slightly, gazing intently between josh’s eyes.
with the sun poking through the curtains, tyler catches the way the light makes his eyes glimmer like warm pools of honey. they’re earthy like a dark forest—mostly brown, but sometimes you can catch a hint of green. they’re unlike anything tyler’s ever seen before. nobody has eyes like josh.
he clears his throat, realizing the silence has stretched for a beat too long. “yours are more than brown,” he says quickly, hoping that’s enough.
“so are yours,” josh replies easily, grazing his thumb beneath tyler’s eye, dragging the skin down slightly like he’s trying to get a better look at it.
tyler stays still, his teeth toying with his lower lip while the two silently admire each other. he tries to tell himself that this doesn’t mean anything, that what they’re doing right now is normal, and neither of them is implying anything more.
it’s hard to believe something that’s total bullshit.
“i’m hungry,” tyler says. he can’t stand the way josh is looking at him—like he sees something tyler doesn't, like he thinks he’s holy. tyler doesn’t deserve to be looked at like that.
“wanna go get food?”
“yeah.”
they could walk to smashburger, or maybe tyler could drive them to taco bell, or maybe they could even doordash mcdonalds.
…wait.
“oh fuck.” tyler bolts upright, clawing a hand through his hair. “no, no, no. you shouldn’t have stayed. what if- oh god.”
“what?” josh asks, scrambling up.
“what if someone… sees? what if they see you leave my room?”
tyler’s fist locks around the hair at the back of his head, pulling on it as if that’ll ease the sheer panic coursing through his veins.
“so?”
“what if they think we fucked?” his voice is a pitched, panicked whine.
“but… we did?”
tyler groans in frustration, not understanding what josh isn’t getting here. “i don’t want anyone to know that, stupid!”
josh doesn’t respond right away. when tyler finds the strength to glance over at him, he’s rigid with tension, jaw clenched tight. “are you serious?”
he’s mad, but tyler can’t care about that right now. he’s too worried about himself. “yes, i’m serious. are you fucking insane?”
again, josh falls quiet. tyler sighs heavily, dropping his head in his hands.
they can sneak him out. it’s fine. nobody will see him. even if they do, they probably won’t think anything of it. tyler can just say josh came back this morning to pick up something he forgot after the party. yeah. it will be fine.
josh’s voice is gentler than tyler expects when he speaks again. “do you remember what you said to me last night?”
“what are you talking about?”
they both said a lot of things to each other. how could he possibly know what josh is referring to?
“i told you i like you,” josh starts, and tyler’s heart drops immediately, knowing exactly where this is heading. “you said you like me too.”
ah, fuck. he does remember. why’d he say that?
he wasn’t thinking clearly. he definitely wasn’t thinking josh would bring it up again.
“i don’t remember that,” he says quietly.
does he feel bad for lying? yes. would he feel even worse if he told the truth and was forced into the conversation he’s been desperately trying to avoid? also yes.
“why do you do that?”
his sharp tone startles tyler, his eyes snapping up to meet josh’s. “do what?”
“lie to me. why do you lie to me?”
tyler’s head is pounding almost as hard as his heart. this isn’t happening right now. it can’t be.
“i’m not lying,” he insists.
“you are. you don’t have to be so defensive around me. stop lying to me, tyler. it’s bullshit.” josh’s voice isn’t cold or cruel, but rather tired and pleading.
“it’s not bullshit,” he says, growing more heated himself. who does josh think he is? what gives him the right? “you have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”
“i know exactly what i’m talking about, and you do too.” he says it with an even voice, and maybe it’s just because they both know he’s right, but it feels like a threat.
it doesn’t seem like tyler’s doing himself any favors, so he opts to stay quiet, letting josh continue. “stop trying to push me away, tyler. it’s not gonna work. can we please just talk about it? can you be honest with me? with yourself?”
“fuck you,” tyler snaps in response, lashing out like the dog he is. the guilt sets in immediately, though, and he looks away shamefully. “stop. just stop.”
his hands lock at the back of his head, breath too shallow, vision narrowing at the edges. his heart beats too fast. he might puke. he might pass out.
“tyler-”
“i can’t do this,” he chokes out, chest heaving with suddenly rapid breaths. “this isn’t happening. i can’t, i- please. don’t.”
“hey.” josh places his hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing slow, soothing circles. “it’s okay. you’re okay. just breathe, tyler.”
tyler’s skin burns as hot tears prick behind his eyes. this is so fucking embarrassing. he can’t remember the last time he cried in front of somebody.
he doesn’t deserve josh’s gentleness, so the fact that josh keeps giving it to him anyway makes him feel a whole heap of things he can’t begin to divulge. the only discernible one is guilt.
it’s all tyler ever feels. he’s filled with so much of it, he can’t remember what not feeling it is like. one day in the future, when the bugs finally eat their way through his coffin, the smell of his guilt-ridden, rotting corpse will send them scurrying back into the cold dirt.
“josh,” he chokes out in a strangled voice. he curls in, knees to chest, and wraps his arms around them, shrinking down to nothing. as the first tear falls, he hides his face between his knees, desperate to not let josh see. “please go. i can’t…”
“stop.” josh shifts closer, covering tyler with his embrace, holding him tight and rocking him gently back and forth. “i’m not leaving.”
tyler welcomes the weight of josh hugging him, the warmth of his body, but it does nothing to settle his tears. in fact, they only fall harder, his breathing now stuttering both from sobs and hyperventilation.
he’s willing to beg josh to leave, but he can’t seem to get his voice to work, so instead he just thinks to himself, please just go. leave me alone. please, please, please.
“can you look at me?”
tyler shakes his head rapidly. no way. everything about this is already fucking mortifying. he doesn’t need josh to actually see how pathetic he is.
“please?” he smooths his hand over the back of tyler’s hair, along the curve of his head, petting like he’s calming a skittish animal. “it’s okay. it’s just us. let me see you.”
something compels tyler—maybe it’s the way josh says it, or maybe he’s just so tired from being beaten down that he’s finally ready to surrender—so he slowly lifts his gaze, still a mess of tears and snot, and unable to catch his breath.
the look josh gives him is pitiful.
“i-i-i’m so-sorry,” tyler hiccups.
josh has no idea he’s fighting the urge to run away and lock himself in the bathroom to be alone. he smiles sadly, taking tyler’s face into his hands and using his thumbs to wipe at his cheeks. “hey, you don’t have to apologize for crying. just take a deep breath with me, okay? can you do that?”
tyler’s response is a small whine and the nod of his head. he follows josh’s lead, his breath stuttering through the entire slow inhale.
“again.”
they take another breath, this one a bit more steady than the last.
“good job. again.”
tyler mirrors him with a deep breath, so focused on the task at hand that he doesn’t even realize his tears have subsided.
“there we go. one more.”
his breath is still a bit shaky, but he doesn’t feel like he’s going to die anymore. he can think more clearly.
he opens his mouth to apologize again, but is promptly cut off with josh’s lips.
tyler immediately melts into the kiss, savoring the soft warmth, letting it drown out all of the noise clattering around in his head.
it feels good—feels right—and tyler knows with certainty that he can’t fight this any longer. he needs to do this, if not for himself, then for josh. he deserves better than what tyler’s been giving him. even though he’s fucking terrified, and still not fully ready (he doesn’t think he’ll ever be), he trusts josh enough to launch himself into this unknown.
he pulls back suddenly. the words spill out, unable to hold them in any longer. “i like you, josh. i like you a lot more than i’ve ever liked anyone, and i don’t know why. it scares me so fucking much, and i wish i didn’t, but i do.”
josh’s eyes go wide, like that was the last thing he was expecting tyler to say, but the grin that spreads across his face urges tyler on.
“i kept trying to tell myself i didn’t have feelings for you. i don’t want to feel this way. i feel like there’s something wrong with me. i’ve never- i don’t- i just-” he stammers, trying to find the right place to start.
“there’s nothing wrong with you, tyler,” josh says softly, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “it makes me sad that you think that. it’s okay to like boys.”
“not boys,” tyler corrects quickly, “just you. i’ve… i’ve never… felt this way about anybody else. not a girl, not another guy. only you. i never thought i- i don’t know. it’s just hard, you know? hard to explain.”
josh nods. “i know.”
tyler chews on his lip for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “i was raised christian. went to church every sunday from the day i was born until the day i left for college. my sunday school teachers, my pastor, my parents… they taught me over and over—man shall not lie with man. i don’t…”
he sighs, shifting his gaze toward the ceiling. “i don’t want to be this way. i tried so hard to ignore it. i thought maybe i’d get over it eventually, but then i met you, and… you kind of ruined my life.”
josh huffs a tiny laugh. “sorry for ruining your life,” then, gentler, “and i’m sorry the people in your life made you feel like you weren’t allowed to be who you really are. you can like whoever you want to like, tyler. you can’t change yourself, and you don’t have to.”
“i know.” tyler sighs. “but i still wish i could. do you know how fucking terrifying it is, realizing i’ll never be the perfect son? i don’t even go to church anymore. i… don’t really pray. i’m not sure i believe at all. i’m just… backwards. all fucked up.”
“says who?” josh’s voice is steady, but his brows pinch with frustration. “your parents? the church? just because that’s what they say doesn’t mean it’s true. as long as you’re a good person at the end of the day, who cares?”
tyler scoffs. “i don’t think i’m a good person.”
“bad people don’t think they’re bad people,” josh points out. “you’re human. you’re allowed to be flawed. that doesn’t make you bad.”
tyler’s quiet for a moment, trying to think of any sort of rebuttal, but he falls short. “i wish you weren’t so nice to me,” he grumbles. “my life would be a hell of a lot easier if you just never talked to me again. sometimes i wish you hated me.”
“sorry,” josh says with a crooked smile. “i don’t.”
they both chuckle, but the weight lingers in tyler’s chest.
“i don’t know what we’re supposed to do now,” he admits.
“well, we both like each other, so… you tell me what we do.”
fuck. that’s a lot of pressure.
what does tyler want to do about it?
he wants josh—that’s all he knows. the logistics of it are difficult to figure out right now, but the one thing he knows for sure is he’s nowhere near ready to be some public thing. hopefully josh is okay with that.
“i just need you to be patient with me,” he says finally.
“how long?” josh asks.
“i don’t know…” his gaze drops to his lap. “however long it takes?”
josh hooks a finger under his chin, tilting his head back up. “i can’t wait forever, tyler.”
guilt curls its fist around his stomach and squeezes tight. “no, i know. i’m not asking you to. not forever. just… for now.”
he’s asking for too much. josh deserves better. he deserves someone who can love him openly, and freely, and not hate himself for it.
josh is wrong—he is an awful person.
“so what’s that mean for us?”
“i don’t know.” tyler’s voice comes out small. “we stay like we are now, just… knowing that we both like each other, i guess. until i’m ready.”
it sounds ridiculous as he says the words out loud. what is he, a fucking child? he’s being selfish.
“yeah, no,” josh says firmly. “if we’re doing this, we’re doing it completely or not at all.”
“what?” tyler blinks a few times, trying not to freak out.
does he not want to be with tyler, then? because not a single part of him is ready to do this “completely.” and even though he knows josh deserves better, and he wants him to have better, this stupid part of him had the slightest bit of hope that they could work it out.
“i want you to be my boyfriend.”
“what?” tyler gapes, eyes wide, everything inside him rearranging. panic swells in his chest. he pictured something private, something more safe. what josh is offering is way bigger than that. “but josh-”
“no,” he interrupts, taking tyler’s hands in his. “listen to me. i don’t care if we keep it to ourselves for a while. fine. i can wait. i can do that for you. i want to do that for you. but i need to hear you say it.”
this can’t be real. is tyler hearing him correctly? surely not, right?
“say what?”
“that you’re mine.” josh’s voice is timid, barely above a whisper, like he thinks he’s the one asking for too much now. “and that i’m yours.”
tyler’s brain short-circuits.
his throat tightens, pulse pounding in his ears, palms growing sweaty where they rest in josh’s.
this has to be a dream. there’s no way josh wants him enough to actually put up with this. right? tyler’s not worth the trouble.
but josh doesn’t waver. he waits patiently for tyler’s response, thumbs brushing steadily over the backs of his hands.
this is happening. there’s nothing tyler can do to stop it.
so, even though he’s petrified, and even though he has no fucking clue how to be the boyfriend josh deserves, he does know one thing—he’d rather risk everything than lose josh.
“...okay,” he whispers finally. “yeah, okay. i’m yours. you’re mine.”
Notes:
wow. sooo that just happened.
FIVE MORE DAYS UNTIL BREACH HERSHEY!
TWO MORE DAYS UNTIL I MEET MY BEST FRIEND!
LIFE IS WORTH LIVING!
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