Chapter Text
There were exactly forty seconds left in 2010, and Tyler was starting to panic.
Forty seconds left until the ball dropped, and forty seconds left to pull this kiss off, if he was going to pull it off at all. Parties were very much not within Tyler's usual modus operandi, but this one was different - this one had Josh; and given that he had dragged himself here for the express purpose of kissing his crush at midnight, it would be truly pathetic if he chickened out at the last minute.
Besides, this was probably the last good excuse that Tyler would have until next year. He’d spent practically the whole afternoon convincing himself that he could do it, he needed to do it, because if not tonight, if not New Years Eve, then he would undoubtedly be in for another year of suppressed feelings, inconspicuous glances, and probing questions from his mother about why he hadn’t found a nice girl yet.
Tyler wanted to kiss Josh. He’d wanted to kiss Josh since meeting him. He spent practically every incidental moment of his life, every minute of their friendship, and every second in between wanting to kiss Josh. But here he was, with the ideal opportunity, and lacking the balls to do anything about it.
Typical.
People were already starting to break off into couples, preparing for their inevitable make-outs to usher in 2011; Chris and Krista, Colin and Michelle, Michael and Caroline, Nick and that new girlfriend of his whose name Tyler could never seem to remember…
The rest of them, the single ones, remained alone on the outskirts of the living room, clutching at their beers or their champagne flutes, and pretending to cheer enthusiastically along with everyone else. But, to Tyler’s horror, even some of them had started to pair up, claiming that it was just for fun, just friends, just New Years Eve, after all.
Josh was sitting on the couch opposite Tyler, nursing his drink and humming lazily, with huge “2011” antennae bobbing in his curls. He was tipsy, but quiet; cheeks flushed, smiling contentedly to himself, and playing with a rip in his jeans. Nothing in the world had ever looked softer, and Tyler’s chest was on fire.
Josh blinked at him, cocking his head to the side, and Tyler felt his cheeks darken. He cast his eyes around the other couples, arms around each other and gazes on the television, and Josh followed his line of vision. Their eyes met again in the middle, and Josh stuck out his bottom lip, shrugging his shoulders, as if to say, yeah, me neither.
Tyler was in silent crisis.
He knew that if he left this party having watched Josh kiss someone else at midnight, he’d never forgive himself in the morning. Even worse, if he had to go back home knowing that Josh had been sitting alone, available, not having kissed anyone at all… he probably wouldn’t forgive himself for the entirety of the new year.
This, Tyler thought, as Josh rested his chin against his knees, was a boy who should be kissed.
And yet, once again, his shyness was going to win. He would be alone at midnight, for the twenty-second year in a row. The news anchor cheerfully announced that the ball was about to drop, and the living room buzzed with a flurry of motion as everyone inched closer to their significant others. Tyler sighed, pulling his sock-feet up under his legs on the couch, quietly resigning himself to another year of loneliness and tortured inhibition.
The last ten seconds of 2010 happened in slow motion.
ten
In a synchronized, almost mechanical motion, everyone raised their glasses. Champagne sloshed over people’s fingers and laps, and Colin loudly bemoaned the state of his cushions.
nine
Tyler’s eyes found Josh’s from across the couches for the briefest of moments, and he let his gaze flicker away like candlelight.
eight
Josh bit his lip, cheeks still flushed slightly from the champagne, or possibly from bashfulness, bringing his eyes up again to stare at Tyler through thick, timid eyelashes.
seven
Tyler’s heart rate doubled in speed.
six
Josh set his glass down on the side-table, not bothering with a coaster, and ignoring Mark’s sidelong and knowing glance from across the room. His wide, brown eyes glistened, and Tyler held his breath.
five
He stood up, swaying only very slightly, but never breaking Tyler’s gaze.
four
Impossibly slowly, as if time itself had stopped working in these final moments of this year - this year that had brought each of their music to life, that had brought twenty one pilots into existence, and had brought them to each other - Josh started to move in his direction.
three
Unnoticed by the others, who only had eyes for the TV, Josh padded his way across the floor, coming to a stop in front of Tyler, toes overlapping his toes on the carpet.
two
Josh knelt, tipsily, on the couch; one knee on either side of Tyler’s, one hand on each of his cheeks.
one
Tyler’s whimper was lost in the commotion, fleeing alongside his hesitation.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Josh’s mouth tasted like champagne and new beginnings.
There were lips moving on his lips, and Tyler couldn’t catch his breath. Josh's chest was flush against his, and Tyler's hand trailed upward as they kissed, and kissed, and kissed, knocking the antennae out of his hair. Nothing in the universe could have prepared him for the weightlessness, the sheer fluttering light that this closeness brought with it, Josh's breath on his chin, his stubble on his cheek, his tongue in his mouth.
Tyler was inert, incapacitated; Josh was heavy on his lap, and lazy on his lips, and the others were starting to laugh delightedly, disbelievingly…
It didn’t matter.
When Josh pulled away, Tyler pulled him back, wrapping both hands around his waist and holding tightly, unwilling to let go.
Josh smiled, nudging his nose carelessly against Tyler’s temple, his voice quiet in his ear.
“The rest of 2011 has a lot to live up to,” he murmured.
Tyler couldn’t have agreed more.