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1
//
This had to be the shittiest movie either of them had ever watched.
Although Tyler wouldn't stop complaining about the obvious plot holes, or the subpar acting, or the inconsistencies in filming, (God, he's really been spending way too much time around Mark) none of it mattered much to him. Somehow, well-made movies didn't have as much charm to him. He didn't know why; maybe it was the fact that there was something more human, more compelling about the low budget movies him and Josh rented every week.
Tyler leaned forward from his spot on the couch and grabbed his glass of water. It sat next to a stray copy of Regional at Best, probably from the unsold merch stash.
After he took a couple sips he set the glass down, where it glistened from the soft glow of the TV in the dim room. The fragments reflected on the table.
Tour was almost over, and Tyler's legs ached. Despite that, he knew he wouldn't give up what he had for anything. Ever.
The rush of climbing up on top of the large speakers that were definitely not meant to be climbed on, standing on the chipped frame of his piano, singing slightly off-key, watching faces light up in recognition — that, after all this time, there was something that could truly understand them — it was worth a few sore muscles. And much, much more than that.
As a badly-acted scene droned along on the screen, Tyler looked over at Josh, resting his head on the top of the cushion. From under the blanket they shared, he noticed the other shift slightly at the eye contact, turning his head.
Josh met his gaze, eyebrows shifted upwards in a silent question: are you okay?
A small smile crept onto Tyler's face; a reassurance that he was in fact just fine.
Josh didn't stop looking at him.
They had often found themselves in instances like this: one of them zoning out and letting their eyes rest on the other. On long drives in the van, they'd stare, and it was never awkward. Nor was it talked about. It just happened. It was in moments like this that Tyler wanted to reach out and touch Josh's arm, or his face, or his hair.
He never did, though. Maybe it was the fear of breaking what they had, what they'd created. A fear of crossing a line, who's existence he couldn't even be sure of. All he knew was that Josh was his best friend, and that Tyler was Josh's.
If someone asked Tyler what was going on in the movie he was supposed to be watching right now, he wouldn't be able to answer them.
"Hey, Tyler, you okay?" Josh snapped him out of his thoughts, although his voice was barely above a whisper.
Tyler didn't respond for a second. Josh waited.
"Yeah— yeah, I'm fine," was his reply. He genuinely thought he was okay before, but something in his voice gave away what was hiding at the back of his mind. It was something he couldn't even try to dissect at the moment.
Josh seemed to notice it. He could read him like a damn book.
"You sure?"
A beat.
Tyler broke the staring match, eyes lowering to his own hand, where he absentmindedly fidgeted with his thumbnail.
"Mhm."
Josh didn't look convinced, but he let it go, reluctantly looking back at the TV screen.
A few minutes passed. The main character in the movie ran out of gas on the side of the road, or something. Tyler could hear her angrily talking into her phone, yelling out of frustration when the person on the other end of the line hung up on her. Josh chuckled softly, and Tyler didn't realize he was smiling too until Josh smiled back at him.
His face reddened a little bit, but he didn't feel like looking back at the TV. At this point, he couldn't tell you anything about the movie's plot (or lack thereof). His memory consisted of a passing scene, Josh's face, Josh's smile, some laughable acting, Josh's laughter—
Oh.
That thing that was in the back of his mind earlier was inching closer to the front of it. He shifted a bit under the warm blanket, curling it closer to his face and bringing his knees to his chin. He took a breath.
It's like Josh was a psychic or something, because before he knew it, there was a hand on his shoulder and concerned eyes glancing at him again. He didn't say anything, though, just letting his thumb press into Tyler's shoulder slightly, reassuringly.
Tyler leaned into the touch minutely.
It seemed that as soon as Josh's hand was on his shoulder, it was gone. Josh was shifting a bit, and Tyler's heart sank a little.
Until, wordlessly, Josh gently grabbed Tyler's hand from under the blanket and Tyler's breath hitched.
That— he wasn't expecting that.
Everything kinda froze for him, when that happened. Josh's hand was warm, and after the initial shock, Tyler curled his fingers around his best friend's hand in return. It was so simple, and yet it sent Tyler's world spinning at the same time. It was as if all those stolen glances, lingering touches, and small smiles lead to this strange moment.
Maybe it was strange because it was the most deliberate they'd ever allowed themselves to be with their feelings. That little thought that Tyler usually kept under lock and key in the back of his mind had run wild, and it raced around with reckless abandon until he was practically dizzy. He hoped that Josh couldn't feel his pulse through his hand, because it wasn't showing any signs of slowing.
Josh squeezed Tyler's hand a little tighter, and Tyler dared to look him in the eye.
Josh was already looking at him.
"This okay?" he whispered.
Tyler could barely hear him over the background noise of the TV.
"Yeah," Tyler exhaled.
He was okay. More than simply okay. If he was being honest, he didn't know exactly how to describe what he felt, but it caused a warm sensation to settle in his chest. It wasn't there before; completely new but welcomed with open arms.
Josh's calloused thumb hesitantly started moving, tracing over Tyler's knuckles and the back of his hand slowly. When Tyler hummed and squeezed back in response, Josh's obvious nervousness seemed to dissipate right before his eyes as he leaned further into the couch cushion.
They sat like that for God knows how long; maybe half an hour, maybe two hours. It didn't matter, though. The movie was long over, a mutual understanding shared between Tyler and Josh that no attention was paid to its latter half. Josh had not let go of Tyler's hand as he reached for the remote, shutting off the TV and stretching his legs on the coffee table before tucking them back underneath the blanket. By the time he was settled again, he was notably closer to Tyler.
And before Tyler even fully realized what he was doing, he was leaning over and resting his head on Josh's shoulder. It felt so natural, and it was so late that all of the caution tape that was normally so present in his head— warning him not to ruin the best thing that's ever happened to him— was thrown to the damn wind.
Turns out that the caution tape wasn't even needed.
Josh finally let go of Tyler's hand, winding his right arm around the other to pull him closer. And before Tyler could overthink the fact that he had let go, Josh took his hand once again, lacing their fingers together this time.
"That was... pretty much the worst movie I've seen in a while," Josh broke the silence, "and that's saying something, because I've seen a lot of bad movies."
After all of this, of course that's what Josh decided to say. Tyler broke out into a stupid grin, but responded anyway.
"Mhm. It sucked. Like, there was literally a city in the background shot of the spooky forest they were supposed to be in. Mark would be crying right now."
"You bet," Josh laughed, and Tyler leaned into his shoulder more, feeling his laughter instead of just hearing it. His eyes slipped shut, contentedly, as Josh started lazily trailing his hand across Tyler's back, back and forth, back and forth.
The rest of the evening was lost in these soft touches, always hesitant and careful at first yet always welcomed. They talked, joked, laughed, until their eyes were growing heavy and their arms were loosely wrapped around each other and they were laying on the couch more than sitting at that point.
Neither of them minded.
"Gonna miss tour," Tyler mumbled, voice thick with tiredness, "Just got the hometown shows left."
"Yeah, the best part."
"'S bittersweet, I guess."
"Yeah," Josh said, "but we're gonna go on other tours. And they're gonna be, like, a hundred times better than this one."
Tyler paused. Other tours— meaning, the future. Something he didn't allow himself to think about for so many years, because he truly didn't think a positive outcome could come from this— from life. Nothing ever went according to plan, so thinking ahead usually sent his mind into a spiral of thoughts that he would rather not have. Everything about him was a step at a time, one day after another, and full of short-sightedness. And Josh was everything he wasn't.
He quickly decided he loved that.
"Other tours," Tyler didn't realize he said it aloud until the words were spilling from his mouth.
"Uh, yeah. Of course," Josh responded.
Tyler went silent. A few seconds passed.
"Tyler?" Josh whispered. "Tyler, look at me."
He did.
"You don't think that... you don't think that I'd just give up on this, right?"
To be fair, he had never thought that through. Not a hundred percent. But there was always the lingering fear that every show would be their last, that their dream would clash its head against reality and crumble until it was nothing, that it would all come to an end at some point. He pondered over the simple question, wanting to voice his honesty but not knowing where to begin.
So, he settled with a simple "I don't know," after a minute of silence.
Josh exhaled through his nose, lips curling into a small smile. "Well, I'm not. You can't get rid of me that easily."
This was the Josh who lived with only a Plan A. The Josh who quit his job to fill in a single gig, who gave the one song they could play his all before it was shut down by the cops. The Josh who heard Time To Say Goodbye in a record shop and didn't think Tyler was a freak (instead, he thought he was quite the opposite).
This was the Josh who was Tyler's best friend before either of them realized it.
He wasn't going anywhere, and Josh's voice cemented that fact in.
Tyler just hummed and squeezed back in response, too exhausted to form much of an answer.
Contented silence filled the air as they both began to drift off. They hadn't put a name to whatever this was, not yet. And, as Josh's hand tangled in Tyler's hair, they both decided that it didn't need one for the time being.
It was okay.
2
//
Their ears were ringing.
The blood that normally coursed easily enough through their veins was buzzing now, like they were powered by electricity.
Tyler swore that every time he performed Trees, it was stamped into his mind with permanent ink. The cheers from the crowd as they all synchronously screamed "HEY" to the beat, their smiling faces, the tears that streamed down some of their cheeks—
It was nothing short of incredible.
And every time they performed it, Tyler would look over at Josh and there'd be this moment where their eyes would connect and they'd mutually stare in awe because they created this. Their whole world was in a room, crowded with strangers who had nothing in common but minds that reached out for words that understood them.
And Tyler and Josh had given them those words.
Tyler wasn't the type to cry in front of people, but as he hopped off the platform and back onstage to meet Josh and bow, tears stung the back of his eyelids and threatened to escape.
They created this.
And as they bowed, Josh held onto him a little tighter than usual, and as they walked offstage he didn't let go.
Their blood was still buzzing, and as soon as they were out of view of the audience, Josh grabbed his hand again— just like that night a couple weeks ago— and quickened his pace.
That night.
They hadn't talked about that night since it happened. Maybe it was because it was bound to happen at some point, or because they felt like they didn't need to, or maybe both of those things. But it isn't like they forgot. The time in between then and now was comprised of more moments like that; although somewhat less deliberate.
Maybe it was the fear coming back. The fear that told Tyler that Josh had joined the band out of pity, or that he was going to leave soon enough just like the rest of them, or that he didn't care as much as he said he did.
But with Josh gripping his hand and now running in the direction of the dressing room, that fear was left on stage, along with everyone else's fears from the past week. Long gone and replaced with celebration.
Tyler stumbled a little over his own feet but he kept running, hand in hand with Josh, and almost bumped into the door frame of the dressing room when they got there.
They stopped, near the wall adjacent to the slightly open door, eyes trained on each other and teeming with silent questions and silent answers. They both tried to catch their breath.
They didn't need to say a word, but Josh did anyways as he brought a hand up to cup Tyler's face gently. He wanted to make sure.
"Can—" the words got stuck in his throat. "Can I—"
"Yes," Tyler breathed, and they were both surging forward, lips meeting. Tyler brought his arms around Josh's back, gripping the fabric of his T shirt and holding on to him for dear life (like he was going to disappear).
He didn't disappear, though, and this was real and as they pulled away and looked back at each other, Tyler broke into a stupid grin, Josh following soon after.
Josh smiled fondly and started honest-to-God giggling, and then Tyler was joining in, bunching his hands into Josh's shirt and burying his head into his shoulder.
He doesn't exactly know when the laughter turned into tears, but he figured out soon enough when he realized his face (and Josh's sleeve) were wet. He didn't know why he was crying, but the tears that threatened to escape during the show were cascading and Josh was shifting one of his hands to rub soft circles into his back.
Josh lifted his chin a bit and turned, resting his face on Tyler's head. All of the voices in the background— crew members shuffling down the hall, fans' distant laughter from down the corridor— all of it dissipated into silence.
And for the first time in ages, Tyler let himself think about a future, because in this very second all the fear he thought was permanent escaped his mind.
There would be more shows, more moments just like this, more dreams to chase that he hadn't even fathomed yet, and a world that opened in front of his eyes.
It was only just beginning.
They don't know exactly how long they were clinging to each other, but it must have been a pretty long time because soon enough, the lights were shutting off in some of the other rooms, and the chatter became quieter, and pretty much all of the fans had filed out.
Josh pulled back from the hug enough to place a hand on either side of Tyler's face, thumbs swiping under his eyes to wipe away the tears. He spoke for the first time in what felt like forever.
"We did it."
Tyler covered Josh's hands with his own.
"Yeah, we did."