Chapter Text
Josh stares up at the grey ceiling of the van, the bumps and jerks of the van a white noise to him by now, a state of being. He's been thinking, vaguely, about the shows, what he's been doing, really, nothing in particular. On the road, the realization of "Wow, I'm being driven hundreds and hundreds of miles every day so people can watch me hit things while my best friend screams at them" comes often enough that it doesn't actually seem like that weird of a thought anymore, compared to the hours and hours he spends in this box doing, literally, nothing. He contemplates attempting sleep, but a tired, slightly sigh from beside him manages to catch his focus.
It's Tyler, as it usually is; probably just woken up. Tyler's eyes flutter lazily at Josh, (who honestly doesn't think he's seen his eyelashes ever look longer,) and he rolls over on his back to stretch, or at least try, given the limited space. His shirt bunches up a little, revealing a bit of his stomach, still tan from the last couple shows, but he doesn't seem to care to fix it, still blanketed under that universally blurry fatigue that only traveling and the constant, constant, constant newness it brings can give.
His too-deep eyes give Josh a silent affirmation, oh, you're awake, before he turns to glance out the window, that white highway sun painting over half of his face, covering his features with an unseen delicateness that only Tyler, emotional and convoluted and weird and perfect Tyler, could have. Tyler, who always has that weird ability to become the only thing Josh is aware of, even in an absolute mob of people, let alone this stupid van. Josh is aware that he's staring a little, as if Tyler and Tyler's exclusively Tyler attractiveness somehow just spontaneously appeared at this very moment, so he turns to his phone; Twitter, not that it's terribly important.
Josh loves Tyler. Not that that's terribly important, either.
He's halfway through systematically checking his feed, when Tyler's small voice brings him, for the second time, back to reality.
"How long was I asleep?" He says, at least partly to himself, and Josh pauses a little before responding, "Few hours."
They're silent after that, a few seconds.
"Josh?" Tyler starts. For a reason Josh isn't really able to place, the air feels inexplicably heavy.
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to rest on you, is that alright?" Tyler's turned to him now, sitting up and leaning on one of his arms, looking like the answer to that question matters more than it probably should.
Josh blinks for a second before shifting himself, "Uh- yeah, sure."
Then there's those unavoidably awkward few moments of just moving sounds and clothing sounds, limbs trying to find places to rest, and by the end of it, Tyler's cuddling Josh with his head sitting on the side of Josh's chest, and Josh is back to staring at the ceiling, lying straight on his back. Josh feels Tyler, comfortably heavy, against his chest, feels his breathing slowly move with his, and for a second, it's kind of surreal. Not that they haven't been close like this before, but in the back of this van, this vacuum, it feels immediately far more intimate. Just the two of them exist right now, at least to Josh. He feels as if it'll all go away if he moves, says the wrong thing, Tyler's like a deer right now, it feels like he'll bolt any second. He's suddenly concerned that Tyler'll feel his heartbeat right now and think he's weird.
"Josh?" Tyler says again, quieter. Josh can feel his voice on his chest.
"Yeah, Tyler?" Josh's voice sounds to himself dishearteningly clumsy and crude next to Tyler's, he wishes he didn't have to sound so casual and neutral all the time, wishes he had Tyler's natural cadences.
"Well, it's just... I kind of had a weird dream. I dreamed that I didn't have any ears or eyebrows or even eyes, except somehow I could see that I had no eyes, and it kind of messed me up." Josh is taken off guard by how familiarly typical the conversation starts, though, to be fair, as if anything really followed any sort of pattern in his life.
"It's not, like, the weirdest dream you've had. Like, what about the one-"
"-I know, the one with all those cows."
"-The one with all those cows." They end up saying simultaneously, and Josh subconsciously squeezes Tyler slightly tighter.
"But anyway," Tyler continues, "I'm just thinking; what if I -was- born with no eyes? I mean- when you think about it, everything is up to chance. Some people just have eyes, and some people don't, and it's not- it's not right. I mean, somewhere, out there, there's somebody with all my skills, but none of my opportunities, and I can't help but feel guilty at that knowledge. Like I'm taking it away from them."
"Tyler, it's not your fault. None of us really choose, we just make the best of what we have." Josh stares down at Tyler's face in what he hopes is a reassuring look.
Tyler looks down. "I mean, logically, I know, and yet..."
They stay like that for a while, Tyler rambling and Josh listening. It's not like it's uncommon, Tyler's vaguely existential thoughts and conversations, but Josh never wants it to end. The hours they spend in the back portion of this van, talking about nothing and everything all at once, they feel dreamlike in their own right.
Tyler is asleep by the time night falls, knowing him, a delicate state. Josh can almost see the thoughts and dreams swirling behind his eyes. He wants to know him, what makes him tick, and a part of him almost doubts that he's really there, that he's seeing right. It feels like high tide will come and pull Tyler away.
Josh leans in closely to kiss Tyler's forehead, clandestine and protective, and settles back, trying for sleep once again.