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Tyler is doing normal teenage things on a lovely Friday afternoon – which include watching Netflix all day, never doing his homework which will piss off his already high-strung mother, and constantly awaiting the arrival of one Joshua Dun at his front door because that boy never goes home anymore and Tyler can’t really blame him – when his phone goes off in the middle of him re-watching an episode of The X Files. He drags his eyes away from the screen for a few seconds to read and respond to the text, the recipient as unsurprising as ever.
From: Josh, 1:54 PM
im outside ur door let me in
As if on cue, Tyler’s doorbell begins shrieking as Josh undoubtedly stands behind it, his finger pressed unrelentingly to the button. He nearly drops his phone on his face when he hovers it up to respond, cursing his stupid fingers.
From: Tyler, 1:54 PM
fuck you go away
He’s only half joking, untangling himself from the blankets on his bed and pausing the show. The ringing is discontinued for a second as Josh reads his text – he figures he has about two seconds to get downstairs before he begins holding the button down again, and flings himself down them, nearly decapitating himself. He’s not quick enough, barely reaching the end before the shrieking begins again, and his phone buzzes in his hand. He takes the liberty of reading it, walking deliberately slowly down the hallway.
From: Josh, 1:55 PM
baby please
He’s confused by the pet name, but he chooses to ignore it, walking the rest of the distance to his front door and flicking the lock. He swings the door open as gradually as possible, his face a disappointed glare (when in reality, he’s still pretty excited whenever Josh does show up outside his house, even if it is every afternoon).
He takes one look at Josh and his hand flies up to his mouth, eyes widening. “Josh, what the fuck?”
“Hello to you, too,” Josh quips, a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He sports a fresh and new purple-blue bruise on his left cheek and a cut above his right eyebrow, dripping blood into his eye; he wipes it away with his palm, staring at Tyler as he waits for him to say something.
“Oh my god,” Tyler whispers behind his hand, lamely. His mind is at a loss of what to say, supplying nothing helpful – he stares at the cut above Josh’s eyebrow, anger searing hotly in his chest when he mumbles, “You’re bleeding.”
Josh chuckles. “I noticed. Can I come in, or?”
“Come here,” Tyler grits his teeth, irritably, grasping at Josh’s wrist and dragging him inside the doorway. Josh kicks the door closed behind him and follows without complaint, allowing himself to be pulled all the way to Tyler’s downstairs bathroom.
Tyler points at the counter, and Josh complies, sliding up onto the surface. He can’t be bothered to turn himself around and look at his face in the mirror because he knows he looks like shit. Instead, he busies himself with watching Tyler rummage around in drawers and cabinets, pulling out packets of bandages and antiseptic wipes.
“God, fuck your dad. I could just – ugh,” he grumbles as he tilts Josh’s jaw in his hand, worrying his bottom lip in between his teeth as he takes a finger and runs it over the cut just above Josh’s left eyebrow.
“I’d rather it be me than my mom, or Jordan,” Josh sighs, and Tyler nods, but it doesn’t do anything to help quell the fury rocking inside him.
“That doesn’t make it okay, Joshua,” Tyler argues, ripping open one of antiseptic packets.
“You only use my name like that when you’re pissed off. Do you even know what you’re doing?” Josh inquires, pushing at Tyler’s wrist when he tries to clean off the cut.
Tyler huffs, forcing Josh’s own hand into his lap. “Yes,” he affirms, carefully applying pressure to the cut, wincing when he hears Josh hiss. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” Josh remarks, eyebrows drawing together. He rests a hand on Tyler’s hip, ignoring the worried glance that is shot his way, and tilts his head upward, gently kissing against the softness of Tyler’s throat. He feels Tyler’s breath catch against his lips and he grins wickedly, trailing his tongue out and along the expanse of skin.
“Quit it,” Tyler swallows, but he doesn’t show any inclination into forcing Josh away. He continues cleaning the cut until the blood slows enough for him to open a bandage and smooth it over the injury; the other takes his time in kissing the underside of Tyler’s jaw, dragging his teeth along soft skin. “Josh,” Tyler clears his throat, willing his voice to stay strong, but it cracks slightly at the end and he guesses by the smirk that slowly graces Josh’s face that he heard it, too. He winds his arms around Tyler’s waist, fingers dangerously close to slipping underneath the waistband of his jeans, when Tyler reprimands him again.
“Come on,” Josh whines, eyes pleading, and Tyler nearly gives in at his expression, verging into ‘kicked puppy’ territory. Slowly, he slips a hand under the hem of Tyler’s shirt, another wolfish smirk taking place when he whispers, voice deep and gravelly, “Let me give you a hickey.”
God, yes, please, Tyler’s mind supplies none too helpfully as it’s all he really wants at the current moment, but he knows too well what his mother would think of a perfect imprint of Josh’s teeth on her son’s collarbone. He shudders at the feeling of Josh’s tongue against his skin, licking up just underneath the line of his jaw. He rolls his eyes at the disappointed whine that falls from Josh’s mouth when he twists out of his grasp. “Maybe later.”
“At least kiss me, you tease!” Josh cries out as Tyler flicks out the light in the bathroom, leaving him alone in the dark. He takes it upon himself to throw away wrappers and put away supplies in what seems like their proper places before trailing slowly up the stairs, poking his head in the doorway of Tyler’s room.
Josh finds Tyler sprawled across his mattress, head turned to the ceiling. He walks as quiet as possible over to the edge of the bed and throws himself on top of Tyler – he squeals in surprise, throwing a fist that Josh narrowly dodges before it connects with his already bruised, swollen cheek.
“Asshole,” Tyler pants, features suddenly sharp with irritation, but he doesn’t push Josh away when he connects their lips softly, circling his arms around Josh’s waist.
Josh pulls away, pausing to brush his nose against the tip of Tyler’s. “Hi.”
“You’re dumb.”
“You love me anyways.”
“Regretfully.”
Josh laughs, airily, tucking himself into Tyler’s side. He throws his arm across Tyler’s hips, pressing his fingers up underneath his shirt. “Can I give you a hickey now? A small one?”
Tyler breathes, contemplating; he winds his arm around Josh, resting his hand between his shoulder blades, and lets his fingers trail over the soft material of Josh’s tank top. “My mom would kill me.”
“Under the collar. You can hide it,” Josh presses, kissing the side of Tyler’s throat.
Tyler pushes Josh’s face away with his other hand, and he relents, resting his head up on Tyler’s shoulder. “Why do you need to give me a hickey so bad?”
Josh freezes up under the gentle touch of Tyler’s fingertips against his back. He can’t outright say because you’re mine and I need to make sure everyone knows that even though that’s the first thing that comes to his mind; Tyler doesn’t belong to him, Tyler isn’t and probably never will be his, even if whatever they’re doing at the current moment definitely isn’t what best friends do with each other. “Uh.”
“What are we?” Tyler asks, quiet, and Josh snorts at the irony of everything before he can stop himself. “Dude, I’m serious.”
“Sorry,” he giggles, muffled against Tyler’s neck.
“Are we – like, you know,” Tyler struggles, hand falling from Josh’s back. The other goes to his head, carding his fingers through his hair; his mouth feels like cotton and he’s having too much trouble trying to take in air, his head feeling fuzzy, vision blurring at the edges – is he crying? Why is he crying? Maybe it’s because he’s terrified of losing Josh, he shouldn’t have opened his mouth, he’s such a fuck up, god, he’s never going to want to be around him again, what has he done -
Josh pushes himself up with some difficulty, bracing one arm on Tyler’s right side. “Are you okay?” he questions, but it’s redundant because he’s so very obviously not. He sits himself all the way up, peering down at Tyler’s closed eyes; he takes his hand and runs his fingers along Tyler’s right cheek, mumbling soothingly until he opens his eyes, red-rimmed and swollen. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” he swallows, not entirely truthfully, forcing himself to focus on the worried crease between Josh’s eyebrows.
“Can I help?” Josh rubs his thumb along Tyler’s cheek comfortingly.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
Tyler nods, eyes flicking away from Josh’s and up toward the ceiling. Josh curls back up into his side, drumming a beat against his ribs. His breathing begins to even out, eyes slipping closed as Josh’s fingers trace patterns on his side. Slowly, after a minute of taking deep breaths and fighting against the hesitating and self-doubting thoughts in his head, he finds his voice alongside the courage to ask, “Are we dating?”
Josh hums, brushing his nose against the side of Tyler’s throat. He slowly presses a kiss there. “If you want to be, yeah.”
God, does he want to be, Josh is all he’s ever wanted from the moment they became closer than Tyler had ever been with Brendon or Patrick or Pete, from the second he realized that there was some weird desire for him underlying the surface that didn’t even come close to scratching friendship. He nearly lets all of his overflowing thoughts trickle out of his mouth, the same thoughts he’s had over two years, all of those hidden glances during classes and parties and hanging out on either of their bedroom floors, all the secret feelings he kept locked away.
He swallows it all down, refusing to chase Josh away when he’s so fucking close. “We’re practically already dating, right?” he whispers, voice weak.
Josh nods, a barely-there dip of his head, but Tyler feels his nose brush down along his skin. He can’t stop the grin that breaks across his face, his heart beating so erratically in his chest he thinks he might pass out; a tiny giggle slips past his lips, more out of relief than anything, but Josh hears and smiles because Tyler is so damn adorable and he’s his boyfriend. What a fucking concept.
His phone buzzes in his pocket half a second later. He’s inclined to ignore it, but Tyler shoots him an inquisitive glance and he figures it’s probably his mom asking where he is, so he twists around in order to fish it out of his pocket with a bit of difficulty, narrowing his eyes at the screen in order to read. Tyler shifts, his arm beginning to feel dead where it’s trapped underneath the weight of Josh’s entire torso.
From: breadbin urie, 2:18 PM
going camping pick u up at six
“Fuckin’ Brendon,” Josh groans, coaxing his head back into Tyler’s shoulder.
“What did he say?” Tyler asks, the end of the sentence trailing into a quiet yawn. He noses through Josh’s hair, patting his shoulder lovingly.
“I guess we’re going camping.”
“I don’t know how I’ll get my mom to sign off on that.”
“Same as last time,” Josh sighs. “Tell her we’re staying at my house for the night.”
“This is gonna bite me in the ass someday.”
Josh snickers, hoisting himself up to hover over Tyler, before pressing their lips together. “Probably,” he nods, dipping his head again to nip at the other’s bottom lip, and rolls off of the bed.
“Where are you going?” Tyler whines, turning over on his side and not-so-discreetly looking at his boyfriend’s ass as he rolls his shoulders, stretching. Boyfriend. He can call him that now, can’t he?
“Home,” Josh turns slightly so he can see Tyler, grinning. “Gotta pack, and you gotta get your mom to agree. Meet me at my house at six?”
Tyler rolls his eyes, flopping back amongst his pillows. “No.”
“See you then!” Josh chirps as he heads out the door. Tyler groans.