Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tyler wasn’t a fan of college. The sprawling campus, the endless noise, the dormitory that felt more like a poorly disguised prison—none of it felt right. The lecture halls were too big, the professors too far away to notice if he was listening (he usually wasn’t), and the fluorescent lights above buzzed with the kind of intensity that made his headaches worse.

But there was one silver lining: his roommate, Josh.

Josh was the kind of guy who seemed like he could get along with anyone, but, thankfully, he didn’t try too hard with Tyler. Funny and easy-going, Josh had a quietness to him that Tyler appreciated. He didn’t blast music, didn’t bring strangers into their shared space, and he wasn’t around all the time, which made Tyler wonder if he had a secret hideout somewhere.

Not that Tyler minded. In fact, he liked having the room to himself most nights. It gave him time to strum his guitar in peace without someone commenting on how sad his lyrics sounded or asking if he was okay. Josh, for his part, never said a word about Tyler’s music. That was nice.

At least until one night.

Tyler had been making his usual 4 a.m. kitchen trip, creeping out of bed in search of the cold leftover pizza waiting in the mini-fridge. He’d just grabbed a slice and was mid-bite when he heard it—the unmistakable sound of someone moving around.

His blood turned to ice. The spatula from dinner was still sitting on the counter, and he snatched it up, wielding it like a weapon as his gaze darted around the dark room. Then he saw it. A shadow at the window.

“Hello?” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. The shadow shifted, one leg swinging over the windowsill, followed by a second. Whoever it was, they were climbing in. Tyler’s grip tightened on the spatula.

“Hey—HEY!” he yelled, panic flaring as he raised his makeshift weapon. “Get out or I’ll—!”

“Tyler, it’s me! It’s me!” hissed the intruder, shoving a bandana off their face.

“Josh?! What the—” Tyler stopped mid-sentence, blinking as the realization hit him. “It’s the second floor!”

“Yeah, I know. Could you, uh... help me up?”

Tyler hesitated, spatula still in hand, before crossing the room. With a frustrated sigh, he grabbed Josh’s arm and hauled him the rest of the way inside.

“Why the hell are you climbing through the window?” Tyler demanded, his voice rising as he glanced at the clock on the microwave. “At 4:26 in the morning?!”

Josh grinned, brushing dust off his jeans like this was all perfectly normal. “I was at an underground concert.”

“What does that have to do with climbing two stories to break into your own dorm?”

Josh shrugged. “It’s too late to come in through the main gate.”

Tyler stared at him, incredulous. “So you thought scaling the side of the building was a safer option?”

“Well...” Josh flashed a sheepish smile, his confidence unshaken. “I made it, didn’t I? No broken bones. Pretty solid plan, if you ask me.”

Tyler opened his mouth, closed it, then gestured vaguely toward the window. “This—this is not normal. Do you know how insane this is?”

Josh tilted his head, as if genuinely considering the question. “Insane? Or innovative?”

Tyler dropped the spatula onto the counter with a clatter, shaking his head. “You’re going to get us kicked out of this dorm, you know that?”

“Nah. Nobody saw me,” Josh replied with infuriating confidence, as if he hadn’t just Spider-Man-ed his way into their dorm room. “But thanks for the assist.”

“Don’t mention it,” Tyler muttered, already regretting his decision to help. He returned to his pizza and watched Josh casually toe off his shoes like this was just another Tuesday night.

Tyler sighed, taking another bite. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thanks,” Josh said, grinning as he flopped onto his bed. “I try.”

Tyler had been working on lyrics for hours, his head buried in his notebook, headphones clamped over his ears. The world around him was a blur of white noise, everything drowned out by the steady rhythm of his thoughts. His pen scratched furiously against the page as he tried to wrestle the words into place.

It wasn’t until movement caught his eye that the bubble around him burst. He blinked, sliding his headphones down to his neck, and turned to see Josh at the window.

“What are you doing?” Tyler asked, his voice laced with confusion.

Josh, one foot already on the windowsill, glanced back at him casually. “Going out. Wanna come?”

Tyler was on his feet in an instant, panic flaring in his chest. “Josh! You can’t just sneak out every night!” His voice pitched higher as he gestured to the drop outside. “That’s—you’ll kill yourself!”

Josh quirked an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I already do sneak out every night. You just never noticed.”

Tyler stared, dumbfounded. “I—I thought you were going out the door , not—” He gestured vaguely to the window and the void beyond it. “ This .”

Josh laughed, leaning casually against the windowsill like he wasn’t about to climb down a two-story building. “So, do you want to come or not? It’s a small gig, but it’ll be fun. I think you’d love it.”

Tyler glanced back at his notebook, the words he’d been toiling over swimming in his mind. He hadn’t planned for this. But the offer… it was tempting. Dangerous, a little ridiculous, but tempting.

Josh seemed to sense his hesitation. He took a step back from the window, his tone shifting into something more earnest.

“Look, it’s none of my business,” Josh said, scratching the back of his neck, “but I feel like you’d really dig this concert. I hear you, you know—singing, your lyrics. And I think...” He hesitated, clearly stepping into uncomfortable territory. “I think you’d get something out of it. College isn’t just about...”

Tyler’s voice cut in, dry and sharp. “Not being depressed?”

Josh winced. “That’s not what I said!” He crossed the room in a few strides, stopping just in front of Tyler. “I just think... you’d really like the music. You’re not alone in—” He paused, clearly searching for the right words. “You’re not the only one who feels that way.”

Tyler blinked, thrown off by the sudden sincerity in Josh’s voice. He wasn’t used to this. Josh was all easy smiles and careless jokes, not someone who dug into things Tyler wasn’t ready to face himself.

For a moment, they just stood there. Josh looked like he’d broken something, like he’d crossed a line he hadn’t meant to. And Tyler... Tyler didn’t know what to say.

He glanced at the window. The ledge. The drainpipe Josh climbed every night to feel something real.

Finally, Tyler nodded slowly. “Let’s... let’s go, then.”

Josh’s face lit up immediately, his grin returning as he turned back to the window. “Great! You won’t regret it!”

Tyler followed hesitantly, stopping short when he realized what Josh was doing. “Wait—can’t we just take the door?”

Josh laughed, swinging one leg out the window. “I thought you didn’t want the dean to throw us out? Besides, this is more fun.”

Tyler grumbled under his breath, watching as Josh disappeared over the edge. A second later, his head popped back up, grinning. “Come on! It’s easy.”

“Easy, he says,” Tyler muttered to himself, gripping the windowsill. “Okay, Joseph, you can do this.”

He swung one leg over, then the other, and started clumsily climbing down the drainpipe. His hands searched for cracks in the wall, his feet scrambling for footholds. He’d made it halfway down when his hand slipped.

“Shit!” Tyler yelped, his heart leaping into his throat as he slid the last few feet. He hit the ground with a thud—except he didn’t.

Strong arms caught him before he could crash.

“Oof,” Josh grunted, steadying Tyler with his hands looped around his back.

Tyler froze, his breath catching as he realized how close they were. Josh’s face was inches away, his warm breath brushing against Tyler’s cheek.

“You okay?” Josh asked, his voice softer now, his arms still holding Tyler upright.

Tyler nodded quickly, pulling away as heat crept up his face. “Yeah. Fine. Totally fine.”

Josh smirked, clearly amused by Tyler’s awkwardness. “Told you it was easy.”

Tyler glared half-heartedly, brushing himself off. “If I die because of you, I’m haunting you.”

“Deal,” Josh said with a wink, already leading the way into the night.

And, despite himself, Tyler followed.

They trudged through the bushes in silence, the stillness of the night broken only by the soft rustle of branches and the distant hum of cars. An owl hooted somewhere above, and the breeze whispered through the leaves, cool against Tyler’s flushed cheeks. Josh led the way, his strides steady and sure, though he glanced back every now and then to check on Tyler.

Tyler appreciated the glances, even if he didn’t say so.

When they finally emerged from the thicket, Tyler looked around and realized he had no idea where they were. The campus buildings were far behind them, swallowed by the night, and the streets here were unfamiliar.

Josh suddenly grabbed Tyler’s wrist, tugging him toward a corner. “Come on, it’s right there.”

The touch wasn’t rough, but Tyler felt it as though it had left a mark, like Josh’s handprint was seared into his skin.

Josh pulled him to the edge of a bar, where a narrow staircase led down to what looked like a basement. Tyler stared at it, frowning. It looked... sketchy.

“Here?” Tyler asked, his voice tinged with doubt.

Josh grinned back at him. “Yeah, I know it doesn’t look like much, but I promise—it’s worth it.”

Tyler raised an eyebrow, trying for humor. “You’re not about to murder me, are you?”

Josh laughed, that wide, easy laugh that always seemed to diffuse Tyler’s nerves. “Not tonight.” He kept hold of Tyler’s wrist as they descended the stairs, the grip firm but somehow comforting.

At the bottom, a burly man stood by a door, his arms crossed. His expression softened when he saw Josh, and he immediately stepped aside to let them in.

“You’re part of some club or something?” Tyler asked, glancing at the man as they passed.

“Kind of,” Josh said, shrugging. They entered a small lobby where coats and bags were strewn about. Josh finally let go of Tyler’s wrist, and Tyler was surprised by how cold his hand felt without the contact.

“It’s like... a hideout for college musicians,” Josh continued as he shrugged off his hoodie. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

Tyler followed him into the main room and stopped dead in his tracks.

The basement was alive. Strings of colorful lights crisscrossed the ceiling, casting a vibrant glow over the crowd packed into the space. The music hit him like a wave, pounding through his chest and vibrating in his bones. A rock band was on stage, the singer screaming into the mic as the guitarist shredded like they were playing for an arena and not a basement that probably violated every fire code in the city.

Josh turned back to him, his grin wide and intoxicating. Tyler could barely hear him over the music, but the gesture to move closer to the stage was clear.

The crowd was electric—dancing, singing, losing themselves in the moment. Tyler recognized a few faces from campus, people he’d passed in the halls who now looked unrecognizably alive, like they’d shed their daily selves. He hesitated for a moment, then let himself get pulled into the energy.

The music was raw and chaotic, and it seeped into Tyler’s veins. His mind wandered, imagining himself up there on stage, gripping the mic and belting out his half-finished lyrics. He could see it—his piano, his bass, his words amplified by the roar of the crowd. And maybe, just maybe, Josh behind him on the drums, anchoring it all.

He glanced over at Josh, who was headbanging to the music, completely in his element. Josh looked so free, so vibrant, and Tyler found himself thinking—for maybe the first time in weeks—that college might not be all bad.

Josh’s hand landed on his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. He leaned close to Tyler’s ear, his breath warm against his skin. “I’m getting some water. You good?”

Tyler nodded, though the thought of losing Josh in this crowd made him uneasy. “I’ll come with you.”

Josh didn’t argue, weaving his way through the crowd with Tyler close behind. They turned a corner into a quieter area where a small bar stood, removed from the chaos. A few people sat around, talking and laughing over drinks.

Josh leaned against the counter, sweat clinging to his forehead and chest. Tyler realized he wasn’t much better off, his shirt sticking to his skin.

“Two waters, please,” Josh said to the bartender, a guy who looked vaguely familiar—maybe from a music history lecture Tyler had half-slept through.

The bartender handed over the glasses, eyeing Tyler curiously. “Who’s this?”

Josh didn’t miss a beat. “This is Tyler. He’s a friend. And a singer, too.”

Tyler froze, his hand halfway to the glass Josh offered him. Friend.

Josh didn’t see him as just a roommate he dragged out on a whim. He called him a friend . The word settled in Tyler’s chest, warm and unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you playing tonight?”

Josh shook his head, glancing at Tyler. “Nah, we’re not a band or anything, but...” His grin returned, softer this time. “You should totally put your name down to sing one of these nights.”

Tyler blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. “I... don’t think I’m ready for that.”

Josh shrugged, taking a sip of his water. “That’s what everyone says at first. But when you are? I’ll be here.”

Tyler didn’t know how to respond to that. But as he watched Josh lean back against the bar, carefree and completely at home, he thought maybe he’d take him up on it.

By the time they emerged from the hideout, the horizon was glowing with the first light of dawn. The air felt cooler, crisper, and Tyler took a deep breath, savoring it. His body ached from hours of dancing, his head was buzzing from conversations with strangers who felt like kindred spirits, and he was completely, utterly exhausted.

But he also felt lighter—freer.

The night had been incredible. He’d met musicians who were figuring out who they were, just like him. He’d lost track of time talking to artists who shared the same restless drive to create, even if they didn’t know what they were building yet. And, to his surprise, he’d danced. Josh had dragged him into the crowd more than once, the two of them moving to the music, laughing when they got jostled around.

Now they stood on the quiet street, the city around them slowly waking up. A jogger passed by, and a few early risers hurried off to work. The stark contrast between their euphoric night and the mundane morning made Tyler grin.

Josh stood beside him, his face tilted toward the soft pink and orange of the sky, looking completely dazed. “Man, that was amazing,” he murmured. “Even better than usual. I don’t know why.”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause I was there,” Tyler teased, his voice light but his heart still racing from the night.

Josh barked a laugh, glancing over at him with a grin. “Yeah, probably.”

They lingered for a moment longer before Josh stretched, his movements languid and loose. “We should head back to the dorm. Before we pass out on the sidewalk.”

Tyler nodded. “It’s early. We can actually take the door this time,” he joked, already picturing the blessed ease of walking through the main gate and collapsing into his bed.

But Josh suddenly patted his pockets, frowning. “Uh... did you take the key?”

Tyler froze. His stomach dropped. “No. Did you?”

Josh’s face twisted in realization, and he gave a sheepish shake of his head.

Tyler let out a groan, dragging a hand down his face. Of course. Of course things couldn’t be easy. They could have just walked through the front gate, looking like the sweaty, disheveled wrecks they were, but at least they wouldn’t have had to risk their necks climbing two stories again.

Josh, apparently unfazed, grabbed Tyler by the wrist and tugged him back toward the bushes.

“Guess we don’t have a choice,” he said, already leading the way.

Tyler’s body stiffened at the contact, and he tried to ignore the familiar warmth of Josh’s hand on his skin. It wasn’t just the touches—it was everything. Josh’s casual arm slung over his shoulder during conversations, the way he leaned in close to be heard over the music, his easy habit of grabbing Tyler’s wrist to pull him along.

Josh was always in his space. And Tyler didn’t mind it, not really.

That was the problem.

It made him wonder. Was this just how Josh was with everyone? Did he treat all his friends like this—this tactile, this close? Or was there something more to it?

Tyler’s mind churned with questions he wasn’t ready to answer. Was Josh even into guys? Did Tyler want him to be? What would happen if he got it wrong—if he asked and ruined everything?

Just a week ago, he’d hated college. He’d felt stuck, isolated, ready to count down the days until it was over. But Josh had changed that. Josh had made him laugh, pulled him out of his shell, and dragged him into a world he didn’t know he needed.

He wasn’t going to mess this up. Not now.

So, he let himself be led back to the dorm window, Josh’s hand firm and steady on his wrist.

When they reached the base of the building, Josh glanced up at the second floor and gave a low whistle. “Alright, same drill as before. I’ll go first and pull you up.”

Tyler stared at him, deadpan. “You’re way too good at this, you know that?”

Josh grinned, already scaling the drainpipe like it was second nature. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Tyler watched him go, shaking his head. He was too tired to argue. He placed his hands on the pipe and muttered under his breath, “Here we go again, Joseph. Don’t die.”

By the time Tyler clambered through the window, his muscles were screaming in protest. Josh grabbed his arms to haul him the rest of the way, nearly stumbling backward as he did. For a moment, Tyler was pressed against him, their breaths uneven from the climb.

Josh seemed unfazed, like hauling people through windows at dawn was an everyday occurrence. But Tyler? He stiffened immediately, every nerve in his body hyper-aware of the closeness.

Josh let go, stepping back with his usual easy grin. “Aren’t you going to class today?” he asked, his tone softer than usual, like he already knew the answer.

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Josh’s gaze. “I mean... I’m pretty sure I’d just fall asleep there, so I might as well hit the bed.”

Josh nodded, leaning casually against the wall. “Fair enough. I’m going, though. I’m getting pretty good at running on, like, three hours of sleep.”

Tyler frowned, kicking off his shoes. “Doesn’t mean you should,” he muttered, already peeling off his jacket and eyeing the sanctuary of his bed.

Behind him, he heard Josh shift, his voice quieter now. “D’you want me to stay?”

The question hung in the air like a sudden change in the weather.

Tyler froze. It was such a simple offer, but the way Josh said it, the way it lingered—it felt heavier. Loaded. Tyler’s heart did an awkward stutter-step as he tried to figure out what to say.

He sat on the edge of his bed, pretending to focus on his socks. “I mean...” He trailed off, trying to sound casual. “Wouldn’t you feel better sleeping a full eight hours for once?”

Josh let out a short laugh. “Yeah, probably. It’s just...” He hesitated, scratching the back of his head. “This bed, man. It’s terrible. I always sleep weird and wake up feeling like an old man. My back’s killing me half the time.”

Tyler glanced up at him, catching the genuine frustration on Josh’s face as he gestured toward the offending piece of furniture.

The words came out before Tyler’s brain had a chance to stop them. “Want to sleep with me?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Josh’s eyes widened, his entire body freezing. Tyler immediately felt his face go hot, the blood rushing to his ears like a siren blaring.

Oh God. Oh no. That is not what he meant.

“I—! Not what I meant!” Tyler blurted out, his hands waving in panicked emphasis. “I just—I meant—you could take my bed! Not... not with me!” His words tumbled out like a landslide, his voice rising in pitch with every syllable.

Josh blinked at him, then burst out laughing. Not the quick chuckle Tyler expected, but a full-on laugh that had him doubling over, clutching his stomach.

“Chill,” Josh said between laughs, holding up a hand. “I got it, okay? I know what you meant.”

But when Tyler dared to peek through his fingers at Josh’s face, something in his expression didn’t match the laughter. His smile was still there, but it was softer now, his eyes unfocused like he was lost in thought. And he was fidgeting—fingers tapping against his leg, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Then, almost too casually, Josh said, “I wouldn’t mind, though. Sleeping with you, I mean.”

He meant it as a joke—Tyler could tell by the lilt in his voice. But there was something else underneath it. Something quieter. Something that made Tyler’s heart stumble all over itself again.

Tyler didn’t know what to say. He didn’t trust himself to speak without digging a deeper hole, so he just stared at Josh, hoping the blush on his face wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

Josh looked away, rubbing the back of his neck like he regretted saying anything. “Anyway,” he mumbled, “I should probably let you sleep. I’ve kept you up long enough.”

“Yeah,” Tyler said, his voice softer than he meant it to be. He didn’t move, though. Neither did Josh.

For a second, the air between them felt heavy again, charged with something unspoken. Then Josh gave him a small, lopsided grin—the one that always seemed to put Tyler at ease—and turned toward his own bed.

“Night, Ty,” he said, his voice light and easy again, like nothing had happened.

“Night,” Tyler echoed, watching as Josh collapsed onto his terrible bed without a second thought, his arm draped over his face.

Tyler lay back on his own bed, staring at the ceiling, his heart still racing. Sleep didn’t come as easily as he’d hoped.

Tyler didn’t hate college like he used to. He wouldn’t say he loved it, but something about it felt different now. Better.

It wasn’t the classes or the dorm food or even the campus itself. It was Josh.

Josh, who had this uncanny ability to drag Tyler out of his comfort zone without making him feel forced. Who took him to that underground hideout at least once a week to discover new bands, dance like an idiot, and talk to musicians who didn’t judge his half-formed lyrics. Josh always made sure they went through the window, like a ridiculous ritual, and Tyler had actually gotten good at climbing. Not that he had much of a choice—Josh always waited below, ready to catch him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Sometimes, during those nights, Josh would pull Tyler onto the dance floor, getting close enough to make his heart hammer in ways Tyler wasn’t ready to unpack. Other times, Tyler would catch glimpses of new sides of Josh: the flicker of anxiety when meeting strangers, or how unreasonably grumpy he got after waking up from three hours of sleep in his awful bed.

But this—this moment—was new.

Tyler hadn’t expected to see Josh in the hallway between lectures. And even when he spotted him, he assumed Josh would just wave, nod, or give one of his casual grins before moving on.

Instead, Josh strode toward him like he’d been waiting for this moment all day. “Hey!”

Before Tyler could react, Josh leaned in for a half-hug, the kind that was so casual and natural for Josh but completely disarming for Tyler.

“Hey, Josh,” Tyler replied, a little dazed.

“Perfect timing! I’ve been wanting you to hear something,” Josh said, grabbing Tyler’s wrist.

That familiar jolt—the one that always left Tyler hyper-aware of where Josh’s hand was, like his touch would leave a permanent mark. Tyler barely registered the bustling hallway around them; all he could focus on was Josh’s hand and the determined set of his shoulders as he pulled him toward an empty music room.

When they got inside, Josh let go of his wrist, and Tyler’s skin immediately missed the contact.

“So,” Josh began, pacing toward the drum set in the corner, his words tumbling out like he’d been holding them in for days. “I heard you singing those lyrics the other day—you know, the ones you were working on? And they just—” He gestured to his head, his eyes lighting up. “—kept looping in my brain. I couldn’t stop thinking about them.”

Tyler tilted his head, intrigued. “Yeah?”

Josh nodded, a grin breaking across his face. “Yeah. And I kept hearing this drum line in my head that I think would go great with it.”

Tyler’s heart skipped. “You… came up with a drum line for my song?”

Josh shrugged like it was no big deal, but the way he avoided Tyler’s gaze betrayed his nervousness. “I mean, it just kind of… happened. Do you wanna hear it?”

“Of course!” Tyler said, his excitement breaking through.

Josh’s grin widened, and he settled behind the drum set, adjusting the height of the stool and positioning himself with practiced ease. He looked up at Tyler, and for a brief moment, his expression shifted—hopeful, almost vulnerable, like he was waiting for Tyler’s approval even before he’d started playing.

Then, with a deep breath, Josh launched into the beat.

The sound filled the room, raw and alive, each strike of the drum pulling Tyler into the rhythm. It wasn’t just a beat—it was his song coming to life, taking a shape he hadn’t even dared to imagine.

Josh glanced up at him between strokes, his face a mixture of intensity and apprehension. He was waiting for something. For Tyler to jump in.

It hit Tyler like a lightning bolt.

Scrambling for his bag, Tyler dug through it, muttering curses under his breath until he found his notebook. He flipped through the pages, the frantic rustling of paper barely audible over the pounding drums.

When he finally found the lyrics, he didn’t even think. He just started singing.

The words spilled out of him, hesitant at first, then stronger, finding their rhythm with Josh’s beat. And it was like everything clicked.

Josh’s face lit up as soon as Tyler’s voice joined the drums, his playing growing even more dynamic. Tyler stepped closer to the drum set, his voice lifting to match the energy in the room. It wasn’t perfect—the lyrics weren’t polished, the melody was rough, and Josh’s drum line was still finding its groove.

But somehow, none of that mattered.

For the first time in forever, Tyler felt like he wasn’t alone in his music. Like someone understood him, not just as a roommate or a friend, but as a musician.

When they finished, the last note hanging in the air, Tyler realized he was breathless. He looked up at Josh, who was grinning ear to ear, his face flushed with excitement.

“That was…” Tyler started, but words failed him.

“Yeah,” Josh said, still catching his breath. “It was.”

Tyler had no idea what “it” was. A song? A partnership? Something more?

But whatever it was, it felt right.

Everything was bursting with color—lights too bright for Tyler’s eyes, music so loud it rattled inside his ribcage, deep and all-consuming. The air was thick, humid, pressing against his skin, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. A sea of bodies moved around him, fluid and chaotic, but instead of feeling trapped, he let it carry him, losing himself in the rhythm.

And then there was Josh.

Right in front of him, curls damp and clinging to his forehead, body moving effortlessly with the beat. Carefree. Untamed. Beautiful.

The thought should have struck Tyler like lightning. It didn’t. It was too natural, too inevitable, slipping into his mind like something that had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged.

Josh was staring at him, eyes dark, hooded with something that made Tyler’s breath catch. The pulse pounding in his chest—was it from the music, or was it Josh? Did it even matter?

Then, suddenly, Josh was on him.

One hand closing around his wrist—like he always did. The other curling behind Tyler’s neck, fingers threading through the short hairs there, tilting his face just so. And then the kiss—hungry, all-consuming, devastating everything in its wake.

Josh’s lips moved against his like he had been waiting for this, like he had been holding himself back for too long and couldn’t anymore. His body was flush against Tyler’s, heat radiating between them. The taste of sweat, beer, something sweet Tyler couldn’t place.

The backdrop shifted in a blur—one second, they were swallowed by the crowd, and the next, they were back in their dorm.

Josh took a step back just long enough to fling his shirt over his head, his skin glowing under the dim light. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, eyes flicking to Tyler’s mouth, his thumb grazing over his lower lip, lingering. His gaze flicked downward before locking back onto Tyler’s.

He parted his lips, about to speak—

And Tyler woke up with a jolt.

His chest was heaving, sweat clinging to his skin. His pulse pounded in his ears, so loud it drowned out everything else. It took him a full minute to blink himself back to reality, to the darkened dorm, the weight of the dream pressing down on him.

A dream.

Oh. Oh.

He was so, so doomed.

He was very aware of the heat in his cheek, of the pool of warmth in his stomach. He looked over Josh’s bed, thankfully he hadn’t woken up. 

Tyler knew something had changed during that first song together. It wasn’t just the thrill of hearing Josh’s drum line perfectly sync with his lyrics, or the way their creative energy had intertwined like it was always meant to. No, this was deeper—something neither of them had spoken about but both seemed to feel.

Even though they didn’t share the same courses, they began spending more time together. Josh would wait for Tyler after class, walking across campus with him, exchanging ideas about music or cracking jokes that left Tyler grinning for hours after. Tyler would wake Josh up on mornings when he’d slept through his alarm, and Josh always seemed to have an extra bag of snacks ready for him, like he knew exactly when Tyler needed it most.

What changed the most—the thing Tyler couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried—was the proximity.

Josh had always been someone who grabbed his wrist to drag him somewhere, or sat close enough that their shoulders brushed. Those were things Tyler noticed but tried not to dwell on. It didn’t mean anything. They were habits, quirks. Josh was like that with everyone, wasn’t he? Tyler had seen it—how Josh would sling an arm around another friend or clap someone on the back after a great performance.

But this…this was on another level.

Tyler tried his best not to notice. He really did. But how could he ignore it when Josh casually plopped his head on Tyler’s shoulder like it belonged there? When they were deep in conversation, and Josh’s fingers would drift up his arm, tracing absent patterns as if it were second nature?

At first, Tyler chalked it up to Josh being a great friend. But then he started to see the patterns. It was always Tyler. Josh wasn’t like this with anyone else—not even his other friends from the hideout, people he’d known far longer than Tyler. Sure, Josh was warm and affectionate with everyone, but not like this. Not this constant. Not this intimate.

And now he was dreaming about it. 

It was getting maddening.

Josh wouldn’t stop touching him. All the time.

The dreams lingered in the back of Tyler’s mind, hazy but persistent, and every time Josh got too close—grabbed his wrist, clasped a hand on his shoulder, let their knees press together while they sat—Tyler would stiffen, bracing himself for something that never came.

Honestly, he didn’t even know what he was bracing for.

Because, yeah, Josh was hot. Objectively, undeniably hot. And Tyler liked being around him. Josh was the reason college wasn’t a complete nightmare, the reason he got out of bed some mornings, the reason he’d actually started believing he could make something of himself here. But was it just attraction? A product of unhinged hormones and the fact that he was nineteen and had a body that often didn’t listen to his brain? Or was it—

Something else?

Tyler didn’t have time to dwell on it because Josh’s hand was suddenly on his lower back, guiding him into the hideout. Like he always did. A casual touch, effortless, like Josh didn’t even think about it. But Tyler felt it. Felt it in a way that sent a shiver down his spine, the dream suddenly sharp and vivid in his mind.

They stepped inside the basement, the music as loud as ever, the air thick with heat and voices and bass-heavy vibrations. People clustered in corners, drinks in hand, talking, laughing, swaying to the rhythm.

Tyler exhaled.

Focus on the music. Just enjoy yourself. Stop thinking about Josh like he’s a math problem you need to solve.

And for a little while, he actually managed.

He nodded along to the beat, struck up a conversation with someone about bass tones, lost himself in the easy flow of it. For the first time in weeks, he wasn’t trapped inside his own head, wasn’t analyzing the weight of Josh’s hand on his skin or the way his heart stuttered when their eyes met.

It was great. Really great.

Until he spotted Josh.

With a girl.

Making out.

It shouldn’t have stung the way it did. It shouldn’t have curled in his chest like something sharp and ugly.

Tyler should have seen it coming. Josh was here more than him, knew more people, had his own life outside of their dorm, their friendship, their stolen nights at the hideout. He was good-looking. Fun. A touchy guy. Of course he had flings here and there.

Tyler had no right to care. No right to feel like his stomach had just bottomed out.

And yet.

His throat felt tight. His hands curled into fists at his sides as he watched—watched the way Josh’s hand gripped the girl’s waist, the way he kissed her slow, deep, like he had all the time in the world. The way her leg slotted between his, pulling him closer.

It was unbearable.

He shouldn’t be watching.

He turned away, heart pounding. Get out. Now.

The hideout, which had felt like an escape just moments ago, suddenly suffocated him. The walls too close, the air too thick, the music grating against his ears. He couldn’t stand here and wait for Josh to finish and come back to him like nothing happened, like Tyler wasn’t unraveling.

For all he knew, Josh wouldn’t come back to the dorm at all tonight. It wouldn’t be the first time. He should be thankful that Josh at least had the respect to not bring anyone back to their space.

Tyler scoffed under his breath.

And to think—he’d believed there was something special between them.

He had been so, so dumb.

He had cried.

From exhaustion. From anxiety. From feeling way too much over literally nothing .

And yet, he still couldn’t sleep.

Tyler lay awake, staring at the ceiling, his mind a relentless loop of snapshots from the night—Josh’s hands on her waist, the way he kissed her slow and deep, the way Tyler ached to be in her place. It was helpless and stupid, and he knew it, but that didn’t make it any easier to ignore.

He thought he’d been someone to Josh. More than just a roommate.

It had taken a single second for that illusion to shatter.

But his feelings—because that’s what this was , right?—hadn’t disappeared in a second. If anything, they had gotten stronger. Clearer.

Tyler wanted Josh. Deeply. In his bones. In the air he breathed. All over him , the way he had been all over that girl. And so much more.

And it hurt knowing he would never have it.

A frantic knock at the window jolted him upright.

His pulse spiked as he scrambled out of bed, heart hammering in his chest. He had closed the damn window earlier— out of spite , he had to admit. But now Josh was on the other side, looking desperate , gesturing for him to open up.

Tyler hesitated. But only for a second.

The second the window slid open, Josh grunted, hauling himself inside, landing unsteadily on the dorm floor.

Tyler stepped back, debating whether to stand his ground or just go straight back to bed and pretend none of this was happening. Before he could decide, Josh was already moving closer, his face illuminated by the dim yellow glow of the streetlamp outside.

“Why didn’t you tell me you left?” Josh’s voice was sharp, laced with frustration. “I searched for you for like half an hour before someone finally told me they saw you leaving.”

Tyler swallowed hard. He could barely think with Josh this close, still flushed from the heat of the hideout, curls damp, eyes locked onto his like he was demanding an answer.

“Well, you seemed pretty busy.”

The words spilled out before Tyler could stop them, cutting and bitter, laced with something ugly.

Josh stilled.

His expression flickered—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. He studied Tyler, eyes narrowing slightly, as if he was piecing together a puzzle right in front of him. Tyler squirmed under the weight of it, glancing toward his bed, debating if it would be too much to just march over and collapse in the hopes that Josh would drop it.

And then—

Josh grabbed his wrist.

Tyler barely had a second to register it before Josh kissed him .

Not soft. Not tentative. It hit him like a hurricane, full-on, like Josh had been waiting for this and just snapped .

His body pressed flush against Tyler’s, hands gripping him tight. It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t gentle. It was an invasion , desperate and consuming and messy.

Josh’s lips moved against his , parting him open with ease, and Tyler felt everything —the warmth, the slight scratch of stubble against his chin, the lingering scent of sweat and alcohol from the hideout. And—

Strawberry chapstick.

Tyler’s stomach twisted.

Probably from her .

The realization hit like ice water.

Electricity still crackled in the air between them, but Tyler shoved at Josh’s shoulders, pushing him back just enough to break the kiss. Josh staggered slightly, lips parted, dazed. Tyler could barely see his face in the dark, but he could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on both of them.

His lips throbbed. His mind spun.

“…Are you drunk?” Tyler asked, voice hoarse.

Josh blinked, like he wasn’t expecting the question. “No.”

His voice was clear. Steady. Honest.

And that terrified Tyler more than anything.

“Then why are you—Josh, you can’t kiss me.”

Tyler's voice came out steadier than he expected, but he had no idea why he was saying it. There wasn’t a solid reason, no real justification, because he wanted it. More than anything. He was already aching for it to happen again, for Josh to go so much further .

But he shouldn’t .

Why?

The question spun in his head, a loop with no answer.

Josh took a step back, blinking like he'd just been slapped. “I thought—” His voice was quiet, rough at the edges.

“You just kissed that girl.”

Not Tyler’s brightest move.

Josh went still. Something in him shifted, recalibrated. Tyler could see it—shoulders squaring, chin lifting slightly, like something had just clicked into place. Then he moved forward again, deliberate , forcing Tyler to step back, back, back , until his spine nearly hit the wall.

Josh’s voice was low but sure when he muttered, “Yeah, I did. And you’re jealous of her.”

Not a question.

A statement.

Tyler knew the truth was written all over his face, something undeniable and burning. But what he didn’t understand was why Josh was acting this way—like he was enjoying spelling it out for him, like he was proving something.

Tyler’s throat was dry. He opened his mouth, scrambling for a response, but all that came out was—

“You still taste like her.”

Oh my God, could he think for two damn seconds before speaking?

Josh let out a slow, measured breath, his gaze dropping to Tyler’s lips before flicking back up.

“And you hate it,” he murmured.

Tyler’s entire body shuddered at the way his voice sounded —low, knowing, a vibration that rattled inside his ribs.

“Yeah, I do,” he admitted, his eyes betraying him, flickering back to Josh’s mouth before he forced himself to look away.

He needed an out . Now.

“You saw me with her,” Josh continued, softer now, almost teasing. “And you wished it was you.”

Tyler hated that Josh was right . Hated that he was saying it out loud . Hated that he sounded so sure of it.

But most of all, he hated that Josh wasn’t wrong .

He looked up, eyes resolute, jaw tight.

“It made me cry.”

Josh stilled . His breath hitched, and before Tyler could react, his hand was on his cheek—fingertips feather-light, thumb brushing just under his eye.

Tyler’s stomach dropped .

He felt trapped , not in a bad way, just in a nothing makes sense anymore way. Right, left, up, down — everything was backward.

Josh’s expression softened. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I won’t make you cry again.”

Then, gently , he kissed Tyler’s forehead.

Tyler snapped.

“I don’t understand what’s going on .” The words burst out of him, desperate and frayed. “Are you on drugs or something?”

Josh didn’t pull back. A light chuckle escaped his lips.

“No, I promise I’m not,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Tyler’s cheek.

“I messed up.” Another kiss, this time on his nose.

“And I want to make up for it.”

Then, a kiss at the corner of his lips—so close , not quite, but enough to ruin Tyler.

His breath hitched. His body betrayed him, twitching forward, almost chasing the kiss. Josh caught it—of course he did.

That knowing look in his eyes softened, melting into something tender .

Tyler was still frozen, waiting —waiting for the punchline to a joke he couldn’t understand.

“…Why did you kiss her?”

He hated how his voice sounded. Weak. Desperate.

Josh looked down, suddenly hesitant. “I thought you didn’t want me,” he admitted.

“So you tried to make me jealous?” Tyler snapped, irritation curling at the edges of his words.

Josh’s eyes shot back up. “No. Not at all. I wasn’t—I didn’t know it would make you feel like that until a minute ago.” He swallowed hard, running a hand through his curls. “I just noticed how you stiffened every time I touched you. A hand on your shoulder, a hug, anything —so I figured—”

“You thought I didn’t like you,” Tyler cut in, realization sinking deep into his bones.

Little did Josh know, it was the opposite.

Josh nodded slowly. “At least… not like that .” He exhaled, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I knew you liked me—as a friend, at least. Thought that could be enough. And then…” His lips quirked. “Well, you got jealous.”

The audacity of his smirk made Tyler punch his arm.

“And your first instinct was to attack my mouth?! Instead of, oh, I don’t know, talking about it?!”

Josh hissed, rubbing the spot where Tyler hit him. “Oh, like you didn’t want it just as much as I did.”

“Who said I did?!” Tyler shot back, indignant.

Josh froze.

Then, slowly, so smugly, his lips curled into something wicked .

“I didn’t wanna say anything, but…” His voice dropped, teasing. “I can feel you, Ty’. Very clearly.”

Tyler’s stomach dropped . His eyes widened, mortification creeping up his spine. Oh my God.

The frustration morphed into shame, then rage, then something completely unmanageable . He shoved Josh aside, furious , and stormed to his bed, yanking the covers over himself like a shield.

“Whoa— Come on ,” Josh groaned, caught between amusement and something almost hurt . “You’re not just gonna leave me like this.”

Tyler didn’t budge. “Good night , Josh,” he bit out, icy .

But tomorrow—

When the jealousy faded, when the confusion settled, when the ache felt a little less like pain—

He would kiss back.

Tyler didn’t see Josh when he woke up. His bed was empty, already made. Probably off to class.

The night before still clung to him like static—his skin buzzing with it, his mind caught in a loop of Josh's voice, Josh's lips, Josh's hands.

He had to get a grip.

So, he got dressed, grabbed his bag, and forced himself through his morning routine without letting his mind slip into that restless space. The one where it was just him and Josh, and the world didn’t exist outside of them.

By the time he made it to class, he was practically hyper-focused, scribbling down notes like his life depended on it. No distractions. No thoughts. Only learning.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Ignore it.

Buzzed again.

Okay, fine. One quick glance.

The second he unlocked the screen, he immediately regretted it.

Josh: I wish I’d kissed you awake this morning.

Tyler choked on air.

He slapped his phone face-down on the desk, his skin instantly heating up.

What the hell was he supposed to say to that?! And—more importantly—how the hell could Josh just say things like that?! In the middle of the day?! Like it was nothing?!

His phone buzzed again.

No. No, he was not looking.

…Okay, maybe just a peek.

Josh: I’m thinking about you.

Tyler blinked.

He was two seconds away from melting through the floor.

His fingers moved before he could stop them.

Tyler: I'M IN CLASS!!!!

He hit send furiously and stuffed his phone back into his pocket, swallowing hard.

The student next to him shot him a look.

Tyler cleared his throat and forced his eyes back to the professor. He needed to reboot his brain, focus on something, anything—

Buzz.

No. Nope. He wouldn’t fall for it again. He was stronger than this.

Buzz.

He would hold his head high, keep his composure, not let Josh get into his head like—

He looked.

And immediately wished he hadn’t.

Josh: Oh, cool, I’m at the gym.

Attached: a photo.

Josh, mid-lift, his shirt pulled up—bitten between his teeth—his abs on full display.

Tyler stared.

Stared for far too long.

The classmate beside him made a noise. Like an actual human noise of disbelief after accidentally seeing his screen.

Tyler blacked out for a second.

His face burned, his entire body wound so tight he might actually combust.

He slammed his phone down like it had personally wronged him, sucking in a sharp breath.

That boy was going to be the death of him.

The bell couldn’t have rung fast enough.

Tyler was out of his seat before the professor even wrapped up, storming through the hallway, his mind running a hundred miles a minute.

His phone was in his hand before he even realized it.

Tyler: Why are you doing this to me?!

The response came immediately.

Josh: Told you. I’m making up for my mess.

Tyler groaned.

Tyler: By sending a shirtless picture of you?????

He actually huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he weaved through the crowded hallway. He had minutes before his next class, but somehow, this felt way more urgent.

Josh: Well, I know how you react to me kissing you last night…

Tyler’s breath caught.

Josh: So I figured a little pic wouldn’t hurt. Could help you unwind.

He stopped. Dead in his tracks.

A student nearly crashed into him, muttering something annoyed under their breath as they sidestepped him. Tyler barely noticed.

Josh wasn’t suggesting what he thought he was suggesting.

Right?

He swallowed hard, fingers hovering over his keyboard, trying—struggling—to come up with something snappy, something dismissive, something that would put Josh back in his place. The guy was too confident, and it was infuriating.

All shy and reserved in front of new people, but behind closed doors? He was like this?

What a scam artist.

His phone buzzed again.

Josh: Also, you talk in your sleep.

Tyler’s stomach dropped.

Josh: And you definitely dreamt about me last night. 👀

That was it.

Tyler was done.

He was going to throw his phone into the nearest lake, transfer colleges, maybe even leave the country—because how the hell was he supposed to function like a normal human being when this was what he had to deal with?!

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to flirt back.

Because God, he did.

But it still felt too fresh, too easy. Like if he just gave in now, it would mean all the jealousy, all the hurt, all the feelings swirling inside him meant nothing. Like he wasn’t still picturing that girl in Josh’s arms, remembering the way he kissed her, held her, touched her.

But Josh knew.

Of course, he did. That’s exactly why he was acting this way—being an insufferable flirt at every turn, giving Tyler no room to breathe, no chance to sit with his emotions.

No chance to run from them either.

Tyler exhaled sharply through his nose and picked up his pace, not toward his next class but to the nearest bathroom. He shoved the door open, barely registering if anyone else was inside before locking himself in the first stall.

He braced his hands on the wall, head dropping forward.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

Flirting back wasn’t the issue. That was easy. The problem was the how.

He didn’t have Josh’s confidence, didn’t have that effortless charm that made everything he did seem intentional and hot as hell. He wasn’t about to send a shirtless picture—he wasn’t built like Josh, didn’t have defined abs, didn’t know how to angle his body in a way that would look anything other than ridiculous.

And the other option?

Yeah, no. He was not sending that kind of picture. Not only was it way too soon, but—it didn’t exactly photograph well.

He groaned, knocking his head lightly against the stall wall. Was he really thinking about this right now?

His phone buzzed again.

Josh: Did I break you?

Tyler clenched his jaw, typing back.

Tyler: Nah, I’m just thinking.

Josh: About?

Tyler: You being a pain in my ass.

A beat.

Then:

Josh: I’d love to be a pain in your ass.

Tyler let out a slow, heavy sigh.

Josh was relentless.

And the worst part?

Tyler was pent-up.

Between school, assignments, and this absolute menace of a roommate, he was wound so tightly it was almost unbearable.

So, really, what was the harm?

He had every right to let himself enjoy this—to indulge in whatever show Josh was so obviously dying to give him.

Right?

Tyler: Okay, big boy. Do your worst. Make up for your mess.

He hit send before he could overthink it.

And then immediately regretted it.

The typing dots appeared instantly. Josh had been waiting for this.

A message popped up.

Josh: Pretty sure I can bench press you. Wanna come over and test it?

Tyler rolled his eyes, biting back a smile. Show-off. He shifted on the closed toilet lid, leg bouncing as he tried to think of something clever.

Another text.

Josh: Actually, I need to do some hip thrusts first.

Tyler’s breath hitched.

He swallowed hard, fingers hovering over his keyboard before he smirked. Two can play at this game.

Tyler: You’re all talk for someone who couldn’t even keep me in place last night.

A beat.

Josh: Should I have pinned you against the wall? Think you would’ve lasted more than five seconds?

Tyler gripped his phone. Hard. His pulse roared in his ears.

Josh: No comeback? What’s wrong? You trying to sit through class and not think about me?

Tyler pressed his lips together, his brain short-circuiting.

Tyler: …I’m not in class.

Josh: Oh? You couldn’t handle focusing, huh? Where are you?

Tyler hesitated. His fingers typed before his brain caught up.

Tyler: Bathroom stall.

The dots appeared immediately.

Josh: Let me get this straight. You’re all worked up over a couple of texts. Sitting in a bathroom stall, gripping your phone so tight your knuckles are white.

Tyler froze. Like he was caught. Like Josh was there, whispering in his ear.

Another text.

Josh: What else are you gripping, Ty’?

Tyler let out a strangled, "Jesus Christ." He couldn’t do this. Not here. Not now.

Tyler: I’m going back to the dorm.

Josh: Is that an invitation?

Tyler stared at the message, heart pounding, every nerve in his body on high alert.

He didn’t know.

All he knew was that he needed to get out of here before he lost it completely.

When Tyler reached the dorm, Josh was already there—hair damp with sweat, face flushed. He had run here. For Tyler.

Something inside Tyler snapped. Before he could overthink it, he dropped his bag and grabbed a fistful of Josh’s shirt, yanking him forward. Josh barely had time to react—his breath hitched, his eyes widened, and then their noses brushed, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.

Josh parted his lips, that familiar smugness creeping back onto his face, ready to say something—

"You’re mine."

Josh went utterly still. If Tyler wasn’t gripping his shirt so tightly, he swore Josh would’ve collapsed right then and there. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his lips slightly parted like the words had hit him straight in the gut.

Tyler hadn’t planned to say it. But it was the truth. The only thing that mattered.

Josh swallowed thickly, voice a little strangled. “Say it again.”

Tyler’s fingers loosened in Josh’s shirt, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. This time, softer, more certain—

"You’re mine."

Josh let out a breath like the words had physically wrecked him. His hands cupped Tyler’s face, fingers curling behind his ears. His lips hovered just above Tyler’s—ravenous, desperate—

Knock knock knock.

Josh’s hands fell instantly, his forehead dropping onto Tyler’s shoulder with a groan.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he muttered.

Tyler clenched his jaw, frustration and adrenaline warring inside him. Not now. Not when he finally had the nerve to—

“I’ll get it,” he said, already feeling his courage slipping away.

He yanked the door open without a second thought.

And immediately regretted it.

It was her.

The girl from the other night.

Tyler’s stomach twisted violently, jealousy clawing at his ribs. He didn’t care. He shouldn’t care. But the image of her pinned against the wall by Josh burned into his mind like a brand.

Her gaze flicked past him into the room, landing on Josh.

“Oh, shit,” Josh muttered behind him.

"Great to know you’re not dead," she snapped, completely ignoring Tyler. "You fucking ghosted me, man!"

She looked genuinely pissed, and a small, petty part of Tyler thought Josh deserved to get called out.

Josh winced. “Listen, Sara—”

“It’s Tara,” she growled.

Oof. That had to sting.

Josh grimaced. “Right. Tara. Look, I—”

But then, bold as ever, Josh stepped forward, sliding an arm around Tyler’s waist like it was nothing.

Tyler almost choked.

Josh turned back to Tara, his face the perfect picture of innocent mischief.

“The thing is,” he said smoothly, pulling Tyler a little closer, “I’m already his.”

Tyler felt his knees buckle.

Tara’s gaze darted between them, eyes narrowing with scrutiny before she scoffed, unimpressed.

“Well, good luck with him,” she sniped at Tyler. “Hope he’s not as bad at fucking as he is at kissing.”

Tyler felt Josh stiffen beside him, but before he could say a word, Tara flipped her hair and walked away.

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

Then—

"That bad, huh?" Tyler snickered.

Josh exhaled sharply through his nose, giving him an unimpressed look. "Wow. That actually hurts. I'm not that bad." His hands tightened on Tyler’s hips, grounding them both.

Tyler only smirked. "I don’t know. I haven’t experimented enough."

That was all it took. Josh was on him.

A hand sliding up behind his neck, fingers threading into his hair, the warmth of his breath mingling with Tyler’s own.

"I can give you a sample," Josh murmured, his lips so close they brushed with every syllable.

Tyler hummed, his eyes flicking to Josh’s mouth before meeting his gaze again.

And then—finally—Josh closed the gap.

It was instant combustion.

Tyler responded, pressing into him, biting at his lips, pushing forward until there was no space left between them—just heat, hands, breath. Josh’s fingers were everywhere, tracing along Tyler’s ribs, his spine, igniting fire with every touch.

The kiss was messy, desperate, all pent-up frustration and need. It was all lips and teeth and not nearly enough.

When they broke apart, gasping, Josh didn’t hesitate—he dipped down and attacked Tyler’s neck, his lips latching onto sensitive skin.

Tyler let out a noise he definitely had never made before, his fingers gripping at Josh’s shoulders. His knees felt weak, his body on fire.

"Bed," he managed between ragged breaths.

Josh froze, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His lips were red, kiss-swollen, his eyes blown wide.

"Bed?" he echoed, like he needed clarification.

Tyler clenched his jaw, grabbed Josh’s shirt, and yanked him even closer.

"Bed. Now."

Josh’s breath hitched. And then—

They moved.

Tyler woke up to warmth. Josh’s arms were wrapped around him, legs tangled with his, head resting peacefully on his chest. His first instinct was to run his fingers through Josh’s dark curls, a featherlight touch—careful not to wake him. Or at least, not too quickly.

Josh stirred, mumbling something incoherent as he burrowed deeper into Tyler’s chest.

Smiling, Tyler let his hand slide from his hair to his back, tracing idle patterns over warm skin.

"I don’t wanna wake up," Josh grumbled sleepily.

"We still have class," Tyler murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

Josh huffed out a soft chuckle, the sound reverberating against Tyler’s chest.

"Am I off the hook yet? Did I make up for my mess?"

Tyler hummed, pretending to think. "Mmh, I think I still need more convincing."

Josh lifted his head, eyes dark with something playful, something wicked.

And then, slowly, he pressed a kiss to Tyler’s chest. One. Two. Three.

A trail of soft kisses, up and up, until their mouths met again.

Tyler smiled against his lips, pushing lightly at Josh’s shoulders. "Man, as much as I wanna stay here, we really do need to get up."

Josh groaned dramatically. "Or… hear me out… we stay here forever. Never go back out there."

"Josh."

Something shifted.

The teasing faded, replaced by something raw, something vulnerable. Josh sighed and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Can I tell you something?"

Tyler’s stomach flipped. He knew a lot of different sides of Josh—loud, smug, infuriatingly flirtatious—but this ? This was serious. This was a little bit scary.

"Yeah," he said softly.

Josh exhaled, running a hand through his messy hair before turning his head to meet Tyler’s gaze.

"I wanna drop out."

Tyler blinked.

"I’ve wanted to for a long time," Josh admitted, voice quiet, almost guilty. "But then I met you. And suddenly, everything felt better. But it’s still… it’s not what I want to do."

Tyler’s heart was pounding now.

"What do you want to do?"

Josh’s eyes flickered with something hopeful. He reached for Tyler’s hand, threading their fingers together.

"I want to make music. With you." His voice was steadier now, certain. "You’re incredible, Tyler. Your lyrics, the way music just lives in you—it’s gonna be big someday. And I want to be there with you. I want us to do this together."

Tyler inhaled sharply.

It was terrifying. The idea of leaving, of taking that leap. But somehow, looking at Josh, it didn’t feel so scary.

For the first time, it felt right.

Tyler exhaled slowly, staring at the boy in front of him—the one who changed everything.

"I want that too," he said, voice steady. "I do. Let’s get out of here."

Josh grinned, eyes lighting up like the future had just cracked wide open.

And Tyler knew, whatever came next—whatever risks, whatever chaos—he wasn’t facing it alone.