Chapter Text
It was the same old for Josh.
Wake up. Workout. Think too much. Puke for worrying. Cry. Sleep. It wasn’t as tiring as it had been in the past, considering there used to be a nice sprinkling of suicidal thoughts in there, just to add some excitement to his daily life.
Things had taken a turn for the worse, recently, however. It should have been great; Tyler was talking to him again, everyone was talking to him again, and he actually felt like he belonged. The pride tape sometimes made him tear up– everyone on his team had it wrapped around their stick in some way or another. Wesley hadn’t said anything outright about it, but he did catch the corners of his coach’s mouth tilt up when one by one, all the players brought out their colourful sticks.
He also caught him smiling knowingly whenever Tyler and Josh were joking together. He accidentally caught Wesley’s eye once when Tyler was on his shoulders, a hockey stick under his arm, jousting with another teammate. And he winked.
But that was a whole other story that Josh didn’t feel like digging too much into.
Tyler had been doing better. He hadn’t broken down since he texted him in that church, at least not to Josh’s knowledge. He was looking worse for wear, though; he was always pale, cold, and limping.
Tyler’s incessant reassurances that he was alright, I’ve just been working out a lot more, my muscles just aren’t used to it, weren’t quelling the anxiety in his chest.
And not that it mattered, but they still hadn’t… slept together all that much. Or touched each other. Not since the regular season. It was digging at Josh’s brain like a spoon to concrete, never quite denting the surface, but loud and very much present. Looking for things to worry about was Josh’s specialty however; he overthought everything for no good reason and it almost was never the worst case scenario.
The exceptions were hard to shake off, though.
gonna do something stupid i think
Thinking about that day made his hands tingle and his tongue numb and his chest tight.
Tyler was showering in the hotel washroom. He used to tease Josh about joining him, or make a huge point about leaving the door unlocked, but now he just grabbed his clothes and disappeared. Josh was already in his pajamas and had settled into the bed closest to the door. They had just played Notre Dame in the state over, in Indiana, and had a midday game at the same rink against Harvard the next day. He had a giant bruise on his calf from a slapshot.
If that was what it felt like against his leg, he couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like against his head.
Josh breathed through the guilt, climbing under the covers. Every little thing made his heart pound like crazy. Every little thing got him all worked up. It was taking everything in him to not force the washroom door down just to make sure Tyler wasn’t drowning himself in the tub or something. He thought of him an unhealthy amount. Therapy wasn’t doing much to help, either. After crying to his mom on the phone for the third time in two days, she offered to pay for some appointments. His old therapist had retired. He had been orphaned and betrayed and the new guy just sat and stared into Josh’s soul with a notebook in hand.
Tyler launched himself on the bed beside Josh. He hadn’t even noticed that he had turned off the shower, much less gotten dressed already.
“Hey!” he said brightly, pulling the covers back and climbing in close to Josh.
“You’re in a good mood,” Josh said fondly, a soft smile on his lips.
“We won. You got a goal. I got an assist,” Tyler listed, speaking into Josh’s neck. Tyler was cold already, the shower apparently doing nothing to keep the chill away.
“You’re right.” Josh turned to face Tyler. “You played great.”
“You too.”
Tyler’s eyes were soft. He leaned forward and pecked Josh’s lips quickly, then pulled away.
“Is that all I get?” Josh teased. “I got a goal!”
Tyler sighed heavily. “Fineee,” he drew out, moving back in.
It was a slightly longer and deeper kiss. Then Tyler pulled on Josh’s hair, and he was gone.
He pulled Tyler on top of him, his chest flush against Josh’s bare skin. He was freezing. Josh just hugged him tighter. Tyler’s hands rubbed at the base of Josh’s neck and pressed his lips so hard against Josh’s that he was sure they were going to bruise as much as his leg. He wanted to take advantage of their alone time and the fact that Tyler was happy for once; he wasn’t happy a lot. And it killed Josh.
Tyler eased up the pressure on his face and Josh kissed him slowly, holding his waist. Tyler hissed and pulled away sharply.
“You okay?” Josh asked, letting his hands go limp.
“Muscles. Hurt,” Tyler grimaced, falling back against Josh’s chest. He took a deep breath and then started kissing up Josh’s neck, to his jawline, but when Josh reached for the hem of his shirt Tyler stopped his hand.
Josh pulled away and moved up the bed so he could sit up against the headboard. Tyler sat up between Josh’s legs, on his knees, looking downcast.
“What happened, Ty?” Josh asked softly.
Tyler shook his head and tried to kiss him, but Josh put a hand on Tyler’s lips to get him to stop.
“You don’t want to. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”
Tyler stared down at his lap, his hands still gripping his shirt and pulling it down, stretching the fabric like he was trying to rip it.
“Did something happen?” Josh tried.
They had been so close before that stupid guy outed him. Josh knew him well; he had been his old teammate and bullied him for two seasons before Josh got injured and took that year off. It had been like getting hit by two cars, one after another. First, he got outed to his team, and then Tyler just stopped talking to him.
Josh couldn’t even really blame him. Sure, it was shitty, but once Tyler had left three practices after just making eye contact with him, he knew it was something else. But that didn’t make it any easier. And it certainly didn’t make him feel any less betrayed.
He just didn’t understand the aversion. Tyler and him were back to flirting during practices and practically climbing into each other’s laps. The only thing that didn’t remain the same was this new fear of intimacy, even behind closed doors. Tyler was choking up; something he did when he was upset, but with Josh he was usually able to manage a stuttering phrase or two.
A while ago, Tyler had been struggling to eat something that wasn’t just crackers. “I’m pretty sure I’m like, autistic or something.”
Josh just blinked at him. “Wait– you’re not?”
Tyler threw a cracker at his face.
Josh’s body betrayed him on the daily by making his fight or flight response kick in when there really was no reason to. He got it. Even while angry, he tried to turn things into yes-or-no questions; things that were easier to answer non-verbally.
“Did someone… hurt you? Make you do something?” Josh picked his words carefully.
Tyler shook his head.
“Did I do something?”
He shook his head again.
Tyler had told him how frustrating it was that he couldn’t communicate when he was upset, and it just made everything worse. Josh didn’t want this to fall through his fingers and spiral downward again. “Do you want to write it down?”
Tyler paused, not agreeing or disagreeing. Josh saw his throat working; clearing it quietly, trying to get his vocal chords working again. Josh stayed a quiet patient.
“It hurts,” he said finally. “Everything.”
Josh nodded, signalling to him to continue.
“It hu-hurts,” he repeated, his breath catching in his throat. “It hurts to stand. T-to sit. My feet, My feet and– and– and my ha–hands and my arms and my legs. I can’t sleep. It hurts.”
It was a pain Josh knew well enough himself– a never ending ache that ruined everything. When he was trying to get his fitness up to par after his weeks of bedrest after surgery, he had cried for almost three days over the way his muscles hurt when doing anything. No amount of Advil could block the message to his brain.
“You wanna go to the hot tub?” Josh asked, the idea popping into his head.
Tyler nodded. He let Josh manhandle him down to the lobby and across the hallway.
The pool room was sketchy and dim; it smelled too much like chlorine, reminding Josh of swimming lessons and blue shivering lips. He stood in just his boxers, already one step into the hot water.
Tyler stood at the edge like he didn’t know where he was.
“Take off your shirt,” Josh said, a hand out to help him into the hot water.
Tyler shook his head and just stared at Josh’s hand.
“Are there new… ones?” Josh still hated hated hated thinking about it.
Tyler nodded, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Okay. That’s fine.” It was not fine. It was making Josh’s heart pound so fast that he was sure it was visible through the muscles in his chest.
He still didn’t move, and Josh just sighed and gestured for Tyler to take his hand again.
“Just come in. We’ll find you a dry shirt later,” he gave up.
Tyler took a step down, letting Josh drag him in. He sat in the swirling water and sighed when it hit his shoulders, loosening the knots. Josh leaned back against the side and slumped down until the water was up to his chin; he too was quite sore. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, savouring the comfort, even though he knew that if his coach found out they’d both be reprimanded to hell and back. Ice baths were the only way to go during tournaments.
A warm weight hit the side of Josh’s head, and Tyler was leaning against him. Josh looped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him tight against him, his movements slow in the water.
Josh was ready to move mountains for the boy in his arms. The only times when Josh didn’t wake up in tears from a nightmare were when Tyler was next to him. This dependence wasn’t healthy– not for either of them. Tyler relied on Josh too much, his feelings were dependent on how Josh was acting that day or what he said, and Josh himself needed Tyler in his sight at all times. Because he still couldn’t trust him.
The world was dangerous. Josh was about one breakdown away from locking Tyler in a padded cell.
Josh understood why Jenna felt the need to ask Chris to keep tabs on him. If Josh didn’t know how much that upset Tyler, he’d be asking the same thing.
But for now, Tyler was sleeping. He was safe. And he’d take what he could get.