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Josh tries not to think about it. But the lipstick was there and Tyler was asleep, so it happened.
He really does try, though. When his eyes fall on the lipstick, sitting on the little side table across the bus, he sighs and focuses his eyes on the screen in front of him. He has zombies to kill.
Soon enough, even General Whatshisface--Josh never really pays attention to the characters in video games. They were probably going to die, anyways--can’t hold his attention long enough to forget the tube of red lipstick lying on it’s side. Heaving another sigh, he forces himself onto his feet and crosses the bus. When his hand encloses around it, he lets the weight of it press into his palms before he realizes his grip is inpossibly tight. He has to be sure.
“Tyler?” He calls out, peeking his head into the bunkspace. “You awake, buddy?” There’s no response, so he tries again. “Yo. Tyler. Tacos out front.” Tyler only shifts and yawns, one arm sticking out of the bunk at a weird angle. “Mark’s dead.” Still no response.
“Sweet,” Josh murmurs, sliding his hand into his bunk to grab his mirror. “No company. Private show for Josh.” He pauses on his way back to the couch. “Fuck, I need more friends.”
“This isn’t weird,” He says moments later as his fingers guide the lipstick across his bottom lip. “Makeup is gender-neutral. Like the kids say. Makeup is…gender…neutral.” He presses his lips together and makes a small popping sound before studying himself in the mirror.
“Whoa.” He whispers, touching his fingertips lightly to his reflection. His lips look beautiful, outlined in red and shining in the light. He loves it, in a weird way. His lips glisten under the dim bus lighting, and he finds himself wishing he had some more makeup. He wants to try it all. Maybe he could snag some eyeliner. That would look banging.
“Makeup is gender neutral.” He tells himself, making eye contact in the mirror. “It totally is. Yeah, yeah this is normal. Just exploring. Gerard Way does it. It’s fine.” He doesn’t speak the thought that flashes across his mind seconds later.
That maybe this is more than just experimenting. Maybe Josh is different. Maybe--
Maybe Josh isn’t a boy.
---
He tries to forget the lipstick, he really does. He pushes it away, into his bag, and doesn’t touch it for a week. Then, Tyler falls asleep early, and he finds himself yearning for the touch of red against his lips. Before he can stop himself, the mirror is in his left while the lipstick resides in his right and his lips are slathered. He blinks at himself once, twice, before standing up and exiting the bus with his lipstick firmly in one fist. He makes it two steps before spinning on his heel and climbing the steps to the bus. Josh feels his heart ache when he wipes the lipstick on his sleeve and crawls into bed.
This goes on for the next three weeks of tour. He wakes up, eats, and fools around until they play their set. After it's done, he watches Panic! and Fall Out Boy before returning to his bunk and putting on the lipstick alone. Josh finds himself staring at himself and wanting to cry before he wipes it off and forces himself to sleep. It's not every night. Some days, he laughs with the others and jerks off and calls everyone dude. He feels like a boy.
But other nights, the use of "he" makes him cringe. His boyish clothes make him want to crawl away and hide. Preferably to a place where there's dresses and, like, pretty stuff.
He doesn't talk to anybody about it, until he becomes to frustrated, he smashes the mirror.
---
When the mirror's pieces hit the ground, the echo of glass sends a pit of hatred through Josh's stomach. He kicks at a piece and sends it flying against the opposite wall, watching it crack and fall into even more pieces.
"Damn it," He grits out, flying to his feet and fisting his hair with one hand. "What the hell is wrong with me? What--" He kicks blindly and feels his boot collide with something dense. "--the fuck--" He throws the lipstick as hard as he can, and it cracks against the wall. "--is wrong with me?" Josh sends his foot against the coffee table at his shin, cursing when pain strikes his toes and forces him toppling backwards. He slides to the floor and buries his face in his forearms.
"Josh?" Tyler's confused voice makes Josh's stomach drop. "Josh, are you okay? What--What happened in here?"
"Nothing, Tyler." Josh lifts his face and runs both hands over his cheeks. "It's...It's nothing. Just got a little carried away, that's all. I'll--I'll meet you at soundcheck, okay?"
Tyler looks around, his expression unsure."I, um, I dunno. Are you, like, honestly okay, dude? You can, you can talk to me, you know."
"Tyler." Josh's voice. "I'm fine. I'll be there in a second."
"Josh--"
"Dude!" Josh didn't mean to yell, but it bursts out before he can stop. "I said, I'll be there!"
Tyler's face falls, and he occupies his hands by wringing them in the pocket of his sweatshirt. "I--Okay. Okay, I'll, um, see you...then." He hesitates before leaving, the door sliding shut behind him.
"Fuck." Josh exhales, furiously wiping his eyes. "Fuck, now you messed up with Tyler. Good job. Make the sensitive one cry, good, good. Keep doing that dumbass." He brushes off his pants and finds his favorite sticks, sticking them in his back pocket while searching for his jacket. "Now Patrick is gonna give you that disapproving look while Tyler whimpers in the corner or something. Stupid, stupid, stupid."
He's about to leave when he sees the lipstick lying amid broken glass. Don't do it, He thinks. Just leave it. Just le-Fuck. He picks it up and runs his finger over the crack in the lid. Josh sighs, heavily, and pockets it.
---
Brendon is kind of looking at him weird when Josh steps up to his kit during soundcheck, so Josh keeps his eyes on his snare and runs through what he needs before escaping backstage. He tries to avoid everyone, until his escape route ends with him running into Pete. Literally.
"Where's the fire, dude?" Pete grins up at him, and Josh tries to return the smile, but he's sure he just looks gassy.
"Uh, it's over there. I'm going to go, like, put it out."
"With what?" Pete's grin drops into a smirk. "Your dazzling personality?"
"You'd be surprised."
"As fun as that sounds," He loops an arm around Josh's middle and starts to lead him down a hallway. "We need to talk." Josh groans for a good twelve seconds, but Pete ignores him and prattles on. "As head asshole of this stupid scene, I can't have others taking my space. And yelling at Tyler Joseph might just be douchier than me." For a man of his height, Pete has a strangely tight grip.
"No, see, this is exactly what I didn't want to happen." Josh protests as Pete pushes him through a door into the Fall Out Boy dressing room. "I don't want, like, an entire panel."
"It's just me." Patrick rolls his eyes from his spot in front of his laptop. "Not really a panel."
"Sit down," Pete says, plopping himself down next to Patrick. "So, 'Rick."
"Don't call me that." Patrick mumbles, his eyes trained on his keyboard, flickering between the keys and his screen. One iPod headphone is tucked in his ear.
"Josh yelled at Tyler."
Josh sighs and sits on the edge of the couch. "You make it sound like I smacked him."
"Is he into that stuff? Ow, fuck!" Patrick's knuckles had made their mark on Pete's ribs. "I was just asking!"
"Shut up," Patrick reprimands before turning on Josh with raised eyebrows. "You don't yell at people. Especially not Tyler. You almost killed Dallon for teasing him about his robe, remember?"
"He just caught me at a bad time."
"We all have bad times," Patrick says, leaning back and removing the headphone from his ear. "That doesn't mean we yell at our best friends."
"You've been all distant and shit," Pete says, around a mouthful of apple. The food in question was tucked in his hand. "And it's weird. Everyone's like, 'What's up with him?'"
"I've just been...adjusting." Josh hopes he didn't just cringe as hard as he thinks he did at Pete's pronoun use. "I was gonna apologize. But then, you know, I got kidnapped."
Patrick doesn't say anything, just looks at Josh carefully. "What?" Josh asks, shifting. "Stop looking at me like that."
"Go apologize," Patrick says. "And have a good set."
---
Josh does apologize to Tyler, and almost blurts out that he has lipstick in his pocket and that sometimes he wants to be a girl, but he doesn't. He wishes he did.
"Yo, Joshua, my man." Dallon appears beside him after Tyler walks away to stretch, nearly killing Josh. "Some kid is here to meet you."
"Huh?" Josh blinks and looks at Dallon. "What kid?"
"Dunno. They won some thing. They're talking to Pete over there." He follows Dallon's pointing figure and sees a nervous-looking kid with a bleached fauxhawk and dark eyes. Josh makes his way over, and as he gets closer, becomes more amazed with their appearance. Long lashes sit below a thick line of eyeliner, and their pierced nose resides above lipsticked lips.
"Hi," Josh flashes a smile. "I understand my presence was wanted." The kid turns their doe-eyes from Pete and widen at the sight of Josh. Man, he never really got used to this. The whole, being a hero thing. It's trippy.
"Hi," They whisper. "I'm Alex. I, uh," They clear their throat and wave. "I really like your band. Like, a lot. I play drums, I play drums too, because I saw you playing them and, er, wanted to learn." They blush.
"Sick, dude." Josh grins. "Want me to sign something? I've been practicing my signature." Alex laughs and hands over a copy of Vessel, and Josh catches sight of their nails.
"I like that color," He says, signing with a flourish. "Black. Matches your eyes." Alex blushes again.
"Thanks."
"I've always wanted to paint my nails." Josh bursts out. "But I never did."
"Well, you can. I did. My dad thought it was weird, when his son painted his nails pink and wore a tiara to his sixteenth birthday." Alex blinks at him, looking uneasy. Josh blinks back.
"So, you're--" Josh hesistates.
"Non-binary. Not transgendered." Alex's demeanor relaxes. "They/Them pronouns. Boy in makeup, girl in a suit. You know?"
"Yeah," Josh did know. "Yeah, I, uh, like that. That's cool."
Alex pauses and adjusts the loose tie around their neck. "You think so?"
"Yeah." Josh says. "I really do."
---
They.
The word echoes around Josh's head all night. After signing Alex's drumsticks, Alex had pulled a ski mask from their back pocket. Josh had watched them tug it over their face and grin at him shyly from behind it.
"You're a good kid," Josh had said, tugging on the tuft of blonde peeking out of the left eye space. "Go wreck havoc."
Josh catches sight of Alex one last time, at barricade. When Josh pulls off his mask, Alex follows suit and Josh feels like he could fly.
They. He crawls into bed later with the word tattooed behind his eyelids. After a few minutes of tossing, he researches on the internet. His search history reads 'non-binary', 'genderqueer', 'pronoun use' and 'what the fucking shit is wrongdkshfajd'.
---
"Genderqueer."
It slides out of his mouth before he even is fully awake. He's sitting next to Tyler, who's eating cereal and watching T.V. while Josh nibbles on toast.
"What?" Tyler swallows and looks at him sideways. "I didn't catch that."
"I'm genderqueer." Josh says.
"Okay," Tyler says after a moment and takes another bite. "That's cool."
Josh waits for more, then speaks uneasily. "That's it?"
"Yup." Tyler leans his head into Josh's shoulder. "That's it."
Weird thing is, Josh feels more relaxed than he has in years.
---
They adjust pretty quick. It takes some reminding, sure, but what doesn't take some extra effort? The first time Josh takes the stage in lipstick and eyeliner, Brendon kisses their lips and Josh is pretty sure they see two kids of unidentifiable gender cry.
Josh had never felt more powerful than when they do a photoshoot in a skirt and a suit jacket.
"Confusing the fuck out of everyone," Josh says later that night while they wipe off their makeup. "This is great."
"Pass me the Cheetos." is Tyler's response.