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the studio smelled like stale coffee, ozone from the gear, and the faint metallic tang of new cymbals. tyler joseph pushed the heavy door open with his shoulder, a half-empty iced coffee in one hand and his signature smirk already locked in place. he was twenty-eight, riding the high of three back-to-back platinum singles, and he carried that success the way other people carried knives; ready to cut.
he spotted the drummer immediately. josh dun sat behind the kit in the live room, black tank clinging to his shoulders, arms moving in tight, controlled circles as he warmed up. the sticks flicked against the snare with surgical precision, every hit clean, every fill locked in. no wasted motion. no flash. just relentless, almost surgical accuracy.
tyler leaned against the doorframe and watched for a long moment, head tilted. “jesus,” he said loud enough to carry over the monitors. “you always play like you’re scared the drums are gonna file a complaint?”
the sticks stopped mid-air. josh’s head turned slowly. his eyes, dark, guarded, unreadable, locked onto tyler like he was sizing up a threat. tyler strolled in, dropping his bag on the couch with a deliberate thud. “i’m tyler joseph. they told me i was getting paired with the best session guy in the city. this–” he gestured lazily at the kit, “ –is what they sent? it’s polite. cute, even. but it’s safe as hell. where’s the bite?”
josh set the sticks down with exaggerated care, like he was trying not to snap them. he stood up, wiping his hands on his joggers. he was shorter than tyler expected, but the quiet intensity rolling off him made the room feel smaller.
“josh dun,” he said, voice low and flat. “and if your idea of ‘bite’ is slapping random claps and 808s on everything until it sounds like a tiktok trend, then yeah. i guess i’m too safe for you. ”
tyler’s grin sharpened. he stepped closer to the glass separating the control room from the live space. “flashy? that’s what you’re calling three number-one records? bold coming from a guy whose playing sounds like he’s still auditioning for church band. ”
josh’s jaw flexed. he crossed his arms, shoulders tight.
“at least when i play, people feel something that isn’t just manufactured hype. your beats are loud, joseph. loud isn’t the same as alive. ”
the air between them crackled. tyler laughed, but there was no warmth in it, only challenge. “alive,” he repeated, tasting the word like it was funny. “that’s cute. real poetic. tell you what, dun. why don’t you stop hiding behind all that perfect little technique and actually hit the fucking drums like you mean it? or are you always this repressed?”
josh’s eyes flashed, something raw and defensive flickering across his face for half a second before the walls slammed back down. his voice came out colder than before. “you don’t know shit about me or what i’m holding back. keep running your mouth and this collab’s gonna be over before it starts. i don’t need your approval, and i sure as hell don’t need you telling me how to play my own instrument. ”
tyler raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. he leaned in closer to the talkback mic, voice dripping with mock sweetness. “big words for someone who’s been staring at the same four-bar loop for twenty minutes like it might bite him. loosen up, man. this is supposed to be fun. ”
“fun?” josh echoed, stepping right up to the glass so they were eye-to-eye through the reflection. “this isn’t fun for me. this is work. and if you can’t tell the difference between ego and actual talent, maybe you should go make another generic club banger and leave the real music to people who give a damn. ”
silence stretched between them, thick and electric. tyler’s smirk didn’t falter, but something shifted in his gaze, curiosity, maybe. or the first spark of real irritation. before he could fire back, the studio door swung open behind him.
a slick-looking label exec in an expensive black button-down stepped in, phone glued to his ear, already talking loud enough to fill the room. “yeah, yeah, i’m here now. got the new guy in with dun–should be interesting. heard the drummer’s got… opinions. we’ll see how long that lasts.”
the exec ended the call and looked between the two musicians, his smile too wide and too sharp. “tyler joseph. good to see you, man. and you–” his eyes slid over to josh with obvious appraisal, something ugly curling at the edge of his mouth, “ –must be the flavor of the month. cute setup. let’s see if you can actually keep up with real talent or if we’re just wasting studio time on another–” he didn’t get to finish the sentence. tyler turned on him so fast the movement was almost violent.
“finish that sentence,” tyler said, voice suddenly ice-cold and lethal, “and i walk. right now. and i take every single track i’ve got in development with me. try explaining that to your bosses when the numbers drop. ”
the exec blinked, caught off guard. the smug expression faltered. tyler didn’t stop. “josh dun is here because he’s fucking brilliant. you talk to him like that again and i’ll make sure every producer, artist, and playlist curator in this city knows exactly what kind of backward, small-minded shit you’re spewing in private sessions. we clear?”
the room went dead quiet. josh stood frozen behind the glass, staring at tyler like he’d never seen him before. the hostility that had been simmering between them only minutes ago had flipped on a dime, and josh looked genuinely stunned, walls cracking, just for a second, as something like wary surprise bled through.
tyler glanced back through the glass, meeting josh’s eyes. the cocky smirk was gone. in its place was something quieter. fiercer. “you good?” he asked, voice low, only for josh. josh didn’t answer right away. he just nodded once, slow and careful, like he was testing the ground beneath him. the exec muttered something about “artistic temperament” and backed out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him. tyler exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off the confrontation. when he looked at josh again, the sharp edge in his tone had softened, just a fraction.
“look,” he said into the talkback, “i still think you’re playing it too safe. but… that doesn’t mean i’m gonna let some asshole treat you like a prop. not in my sessions. ”
josh swallowed, throat working. for the first time since tyler had walked in, the guarded intensity in his eyes eased, replaced by something raw and uncertain. he picked up his sticks again, tapping them lightly against his palm. “…thanks,” he said quietly. the word sounded like it cost him something. tyler gave a small, almost reluctant nod. the cockiness wasn’t entirely gone, but it had cracked open, letting something more real peek through.
“don’t thank me yet,” he muttered. “we still gotta make something that doesn’t suck. ”josh huffed, almost a laugh, almost. the tension in the studio hadn’t disappeared. it had just changed shape. sharper in some places. warmer in others.
*--{📼}--*
later that day, the control room lights were dimmed to a low amber glow. empty takeout containers littered the coffee table, and the faint smell of cold sesame noodles hung in the air.
they’d been at it for four straight hours, and the track was finally starting to breathe. tyler slumped back in the rolling chair, spinning it lazily with one foot while he watched josh through the glass. the drummer had just nailed a particularly vicious fill that made the whole beat snap into focus. for three glorious seconds, josh had stopped playing it safe. the sticks had flown, the kick drum had punched like a heartbeat on steroids, and something raw and alive had cut through the speakers. tyler couldn’t help the low whistle that escaped him.
“shit,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “there it is. ”when josh stepped into the control room for the break, wiping sweat from his neck with a black towel, tyler leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “okay, that last one? that was nasty. in the best way. where the hell have you been hiding that energy?”
josh shrugged, dropping into the chair farthest from tyler. “just trying to match what you laid down. ”
tyler’s mouth twitched.
“bullshit. you were holding back again until the last take. i saw it. felt it. why do you do that? play like you’re one step away from apologizing to the drums?”
josh’s eyes flicked away. he reached for his water bottle and took a long, deliberate sip. “not everything needs to be maxed out all the time. ”
tyler waited. when nothing else came, he tried again, lighter this time. “so what’s your story, dun? you’ve been doing sessions for what, three years? i looked you up; solid credits, but you’re not exactly blowing up your own socials. you got a band before this? ex that screwed you over? secret tiktok dance career?”
the questions were casual, tossed out with that trademark tyler smirk, but josh’s shoulders visibly tightened. he set the bottle down a little too carefully. “not much to tell,” he said. short. flat. final.
tyler’s eyebrow arched. “come on, man. we’re stuck in this room together for the next two weeks. throw me a bone. where’d you grow up? what made you pick up sticks instead of, i don’t know, becoming an accountant like your parents probably wanted?” josh stood up abruptly, towel slung over his shoulder.
“bathroom break. ”
he disappeared down the short hallway before tyler could respond. tyler stared at the empty doorway, jaw working. “jesus christ,” he muttered under his breath. “what the fuck is this guy’s problem?”
he wasn’t used to people shutting him out. usually they leaned in, laughing too hard at his jokes, trying to get close, feeding off the energy he brought into every room. josh did the opposite. every personal question bounced off him like he was made of kevlar.
when josh came back ten minutes later, hair freshly damp at the temples, wearing a clean black hoodie he definitely hadn’t had on earlier, tyler tried a different approach. he rolled his chair closer, invading the drummer’s space just enough to test the waters.
“you know, most drummers i work with would kill for the pocket you’ve got. that last groove? tight as hell. creative, too. not just banging away, there’s thought behind it. soul. even if you’re allergic to showing it. ”
josh tensed the second tyler’s knee nearly brushed his. he shifted away smoothly, putting the arm of the couch between them.
“thanks,” he said, voice carefully neutral. “can we run the bridge again? i think the hi-hat could breathe more on the off-beats. ”
tyler exhaled through his nose, frustration simmering just under his skin. he leaned back, arms crossed. “yeah. sure. bridge it is. ”
but the irritation lingered.
by the third break of the afternoon, it had sharpened into something closer to resentment.
tyler watched josh methodically pack his sticks into a slim black case, every movement precise, controlled. the guy changed shirts in the bathroom like the open studio was a goddamn locker room full of prying eyes. he answered questions about gear with one-word replies. he kept at least three feet of invisible distance between them at all times, like tyler was contagious.
“you always this uptight?” tyler finally asked, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. “or is it just me?”
josh paused, zipper halfway up his bag. his knuckles whitened for a second. when he looked up, his expression was carefully blank, but his eyes were darker than usual, guarded, almost wary.
“it’s not about you,” he said quietly. “some people just don’t like sharing their whole life story with strangers in a studio. ”
tyler scoffed. “strangers? we’re cutting a record together. that usually involves talking. laughing. maybe even cracking a smile once in a while. or are you physically incapable?”
josh’s jaw flexed. he slung the bag over his shoulder, the motion pulling the hoodie tight across his chest for a brief moment before he adjusted it quickly. “i’m here to play drums,” he said. “not audition for your fan club. ”
the door to the live room clicked shut behind him a little harder than necessary.
tyler stayed in the control room, staring at the darkened monitors. he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “fucking impossible,” he muttered.
but even as the words left his mouth, he couldn’t shake the memory of that one take, when josh had let go for just a few bars. the way the drums had suddenly breathed fire. the precision that wasn’t cold, but ferocious. the kind of talent that made tyler’s own pulse kick up, because it forced him to level up too.
he hated how much he respected it. and he hated even more that josh kept every real part of himself locked behind walls so high tyler couldn’t even see the top. tyler spun back to the console, cueing up the track again. the beat hit hard through the speakers, flashy, driving, undeniably him. but underneath it, josh’s drums sat locked in tight, creative and restrained at the same time. “too safe, my ass,” tyler whispered to the empty room. he just didn’t know why josh felt like he had to be.
*--{📼}--*
the studio had gone quiet for the night. josh stayed behind after tyler finally called it, claiming he wanted to tweak a few fills on his own. in reality, the control room felt too small with tyler’s restless energy still bouncing off the walls, and the silence was the only thing that let josh breathe. he sat on the worn leather couch in the live room, sticks balanced across his knees, staring at nothing. the overhead lights were off; only the faint blue glow from the equipment leds lit the space. his hoodie was zipped all the way up, sleeves pulled over his hands like armor. the argument from earlier, tyler’s frustrated “you always this uptight?”, kept looping in his head. it shouldn’t have landed as hard as it did. but it cracked something open, and now memories he usually kept buried were clawing their way to the surface. he closed his eyes.
–
he was seventeen again, standing in the cramped kitchen of the old house in columbus, the smell of his mom’s meatloaf thick in the air. his hair was longer then, dyed black and falling into his eyes. he wore one of his brother’s oversized hoodies that still smelled like the laundry detergent they all used, trying to hide the way his body felt wrong every single day.
“i’m serious,” jess had said, voice cracking despite how hard she tried to sound steady. “i’m not a girl. i never have been. i need you to hear me–this isn’t a phase. ” laura had paused with a wooden spoon halfway to her mouth, eyebrows raised in that gentle, pitying way that made his stomach twist.
“honey… you’ve always been dramatic. remember when you swore you were going to be a pirate for the rest of your life? this is just like that. ”
her dad had laughed from the table, the sound loud and dismissive as he speared another piece of meatloaf. “a phase. that’s what this is. all the kids at school are doing the rainbow shit now. next week you’ll be back to normal, chasing boys like every other girl your age. ”
“i’m not chasing boys,” jess had snapped, fists clenched at his sides. “and i’m not a girl. i’ve told you that since i was fourteen. the name is josh. please–just call me josh. ”
her dad had rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair with that familiar disappointed sigh.
“jesus, kid. you think you’re the first teenager to pull this crap for attention? you’re pretty. you’ve got the whole package. why would you want to throw that away to look like some confused boy with a drum set?”
the words had landed like a slap. josh remembered the burn behind his eyes, the way his throat had closed up so tight he could barely speak.
“it’s not about attention,” she’d whispered. “it’s about feeling like i’m dying every time someone calls me the wrong thing. every time i look in the mirror and see–”
“enough,” his dad had cut in, voice hardening. “this conversation is over. you’re not ruining your life with this nonsense. you’ll grow out of it. we all did stupid shit at your age. in a year you’ll be laughing about how you thought you were a boy. ”
her older brother had just shrugged from the doorway, chewing on a piece of bread. “dude, seriously? you’re gonna make thanksgiving weird for this? just wear the dress for family pictures and stop being dramatic. ”
jess had fled to her room after that, slamming the door so hard the posters on the wall shook. she’d curled up on her bed with her practice pad and sticks, beating out furious, silent rhythms until her hands ached and her wrists burned. the drums had always been the one place she could disappear into, where gender didn’t matter, where the only thing that spoke was the hit and the rebound and the raw energy he could finally let out.
but even there, the words followed her.
“phase. ” “attention. ” “you’ll grow out of it. ” “pretty girl. ”
–
back in the studio, josh opened his eyes, breath coming a little too fast. his hands had tightened around the sticks until his knuckles were white. he hadn’t spoken to his family in almost four years now. the last call had ended the same way every other one did, his dad laughing it off, telling him he was still “playing pretend,” asking when he was going to “come to his senses and live like a normal woman. ”
the industry hadn’t been much kinder.
producers who smiled to his face and then made jokes behind closed doors. bandmates who “supported” him until it became inconvenient. one label scout who had looked him up and down and said, “cute story, but the market’s not really there for… that. ”
so josh kept his walls high. changed in bathrooms. gave short answers. never let anyone get close enough to see the parts of him that still felt raw and exposed.
especially not cocky, sharp-tongued producers who could destroy careers with a single interview.
especially not tyler joseph.
the studio door creaked open. tyler stepped in, jacket slung over one shoulder, clearly surprised to see josh still there. “thought you left hours ago. ”
josh tensed instantly, shoving the memories down deep where they belonged. he stood up, grabbing his bag. “just finishing some stuff. ”
tyler’s gaze lingered on him a second too long, those sharp eyes catching the slight shake in josh’s hands, the way he kept distance between them even now. for once, tyler didn’t push with a joke or a challenge. he just nodded slowly.
“alright. don’t stay too late. we’ve got more ground to cover tomorrow. ”as tyler turned to leave, he paused in the doorway.
“hey, dun?”josh looked up warily. “that fill you did right before we wrapped… it was good. really good. not safe at all. ”
josh didn’t know what to say to that. so he didn’t say anything.
tyler gave a small, almost reluctant half-smile before the door clicked shut behind him. josh let out a long, shaky breath and sank back onto the couch. he wondered how long he could keep the walls up before someone like tyler joseph started seeing through them.
*--{📼}--*
the track was finally starting to click. tyler had pushed the tempo up on the last pass, and josh, maybe out of sheer irritation, maybe because the music demanded it, had answered.
his playing had opened up: tighter pockets, sharper accents, a rolling fill on the toms that made the whole beat snarl. for once, the control room speakers didn’t sound like two egos fighting. they sounded dangerous. tyler was mid-sentence, leaning into the talkback with a rare, genuine grin, “that one, dun. do that again, but mean it this time”, when the studio door swung open without a knock.
marcus hale, one of the label’s senior a&r executives, strode in like he owned the air itself.
expensive watch, sharper suit, the kind of smile that never reached his eyes. he’d been the one who green-lit the collaboration in the first place, mostly because tyler’s last single had added seven figures to the company’s bottom line.
“joseph,” marcus said, clapping tyler on the shoulder hard enough to make the chair roll. “sounds like you’re finally getting something usable out of this setup. ”
tyler’s grin faltered, but he kept it professional. barely. “we’re cookin’. give us another hour and we’ll have the skeleton locked. ”
marcus’s gaze slid past him, through the glass, landing on josh like an afterthought. josh had frozen behind the kit, sticks still raised, shoulders already drawing inward. marcus let out a loud, mocking laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.
“jesus christ. you’re still wasting studio time with jess? come on, man. ”
the deadname hit the air like a whip crack.
josh’s entire body went rigid. his face drained of color, knuckles whitening around the sticks so hard the wood looked ready to snap. tyler’s head snapped toward the exec, eyes narrowing. “what the fuck did you just call him?”
marcus waved a dismissive hand, stepping closer to the glass as if josh were something ridiculous on display. “oh, don’t give me that. we all know the truth. little jess here is still playing pretend, trying way too hard to be one of the boys. look at her. same soft face, same hips, same everything. she’s just confused, throwing on baggy clothes and chopping her hair off to look edgy for the cameras. it’s pathetic, really. this whole trans phase is getting old fast. ”
he leaned in, voice dripping with contempt. “let’s be honest, tyler. this is hurting the project. image-wise, it’s a fucking joke. some confused chick pretending to be a drummer doesn’t scream ‘serious rock act. ’ the fans are gonna see right through it. we should replace her with a real drummer, someone who actually looks and sounds the part. someone who fits the band’s image instead of this delusional bullshit. ”
the silence that followed was suffocating. tyler stared at marcus for a long second, the cocky producer mask sliding off so fast it might as well have shattered on the floor. when he spoke, his voice was low, cold, and lethal.
“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. ”
marcus blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. “tyler, relax. it’s just business. you’re the star here. you don’t need–”
“no. ” tyler stood up so abruptly the chair slammed into the console behind him. “you don’t get to walk in here and talk about him like that. his name is josh. he’s a man. and he’s the best fucking drummer who’s walked through these doors in the last two years. the only thing ‘pathetic’ or ‘delusional’ in this room is the ignorant, bigoted shit coming out of your mouth. ”
marcus’s face reddened. “watch your tone. i’m the one who signs the checks–”
“checks i can make irrelevant with one phone call. ” tyler stepped forward, crowding the exec’s space, all traces of playful banter gone. his eyes were blazing. “deadname him again, misgender him again, or even breathe in his direction with that garbage attitude, and i pull everything. every track i’ve got ready for the next album. every feature. every playlist placement i can influence. i’ll make sure every artist, producer, and journalist in this city hears exactly what kind of backward, hateful prick you are. you think your ‘image’ concerns matter when i tell people you harass and degrade musicians in closed sessions? try explaining that to the board when the streams dry up and the pr nightmare hits. ”
marcus opened his mouth, but tyler wasn’t finished.
“and let’s be crystal clear,” he continued, voice dropping even lower, shaking with barely contained fury. “josh isn’t here because of some diversity checkbox. he’s here because when he plays, the music actually means something. you want a ‘real drummer’? look through the fucking glass. that’s him. the guy who just made my beat sound ten times better than anything your so-called ‘normal’ choices could deliver. so get the fuck out of my session before i decide to make this personal– and trust me, you don’t want it to get personal. ”
the exec’s jaw worked, pride warring with the very real threat in tyler’s words. tyler joseph wasn’t just some rising producer anymore, he had leverage, and everyone in the building knew it. marcus forced a tight, ugly smile. “we’ll discuss this later. ”
“no,” tyler said flatly. “we won’t. and if i see you anywhere near this room again while we’re working, the conversation ends with lawyers. door’s behind you. ”
marcus left without another word, the heavy studio door slamming shut behind him with a bang that echoed through the studio. the sudden quiet rang in tyler’s ears.
he turned slowly toward the glass.
josh was still sitting behind the kit, sticks limp in his hands, staring at tyler with wide, stunned eyes. his face had gone deathly pale, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t quite process what had just happened. the walls that had been ironclad for days had cracked wide open, revealing raw shock and something deeply vulnerable underneath, something that looked a lot like disbelief that anyone, especially tyler, would actually stand up for him like that. tyler swallowed, the adrenaline still buzzing under his skin. he stepped up to the talkback, voice gentler than it had been in days. “you okay?” he asked quietly.
josh didn’t answer right away. he just kept staring, chest rising and falling a little too fast. when he finally spoke, his voice was rough, barely above a whisper, cracking at the edges.
“…why did you do that?”
tyler rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly unsure. the cockiness had burned away, leaving something more honest in its place.
“because that was completely fucked up,” he said simply. “and because you’re good, josh. really good. i’m not letting some asshole tank the session -or you- because he’s a small-minded, hateful prick. ”
josh blinked hard, looking down at the drums like they might ground him. his shoulders were still tense, but the guarded mask had slipped. for the first time, he looked at tyler without the immediate wall slamming down. he gave one small, shaky nod. tyler exhaled.
“take five if you need it. or… we can keep going. your call. ”josh picked up the sticks again, fingers still trembling slightly. but when he met tyler’s eyes through the glass, there was a flicker of something new, fragile respect, maybe even the barest hint of trust. “let’s keep going,” he said, voice steadier than before. tyler nodded, a small, relieved smile tugging at his mouth as he sat back down at the console.
*--{📼}--*
the heavy studio door clicked shut behind marcus hale, and the silence that followed was deafening.
josh remained behind the kit, sticks resting loosely in his lap, staring at the spot where the exec had been standing. his breathing was too controlled, too deliberate, like he was forcing every inhale to stay even. his shoulders were locked tight, jaw clenched so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek. he looked like he was trying to will himself back into the armored version of himself that had walked into the studio that morning.
tyler stayed in the control room for a long moment, watching through the glass. the adrenaline from the confrontation was still buzzing in his veins, but the cocky smirk he usually wore like a second skin had vanished completely. he finally hit the talkback button, voice quieter than it had been in days.
“hey… you good?”josh blinked, then gave a short, stiff nod without looking up. “yeah. fine. ” his voice came out rough, almost hoarse. he cleared his throat and added, a little too quickly, “let’s just run it again. ”
tyler didn’t move. he leaned back in his chair instead, rubbing a hand over his face. for the first time since they’d started working together, the sharp edges in his posture softened. “josh,” he said, no teasing, no challenge. just his name. “you don’t have to play it cool right now. that was… that was a lot. even for me, and i wasn’t the one he was attacking. ”
josh’s fingers tightened around the sticks. he set them down carefully on the snare, as if they might break if he wasn’t gentle. when he finally spoke, he kept his eyes on the drums.
“i’ve dealt with worse,” he muttered. “industry’s full of people like that. guys who smile, say all the right ally shit in public, then turn around and pull crap like this when they think no one’s listening. they pretend they’ve got your back until it stops being convenient. or until they decide you’re too much trouble. ”
he let out a short, bitter breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “happens enough times and you stop expecting anything different. ”tyler listened without interrupting, the usual restless energy in him dialed way back. he nodded slowly, processing. “i get that,” he said after a beat. “doesn’t make it any less fucked up. ”
he paused, then stood up and walked over to the glass, stopping a respectful distance away so he wasn’t crowding the space.
“look… i was an asshole earlier today. yesterday, too. coming in here acting like i was god’s gift to production, riding your ass about being ‘too safe’ when i didn’t know shit about what you were carrying. that was arrogant as hell. i’m sorry for that. ”
the apology came out half-cocky, half-sincere; the way tyler did most things. there was still a trace of that signature smirk trying to creep back in, but his eyes were serious. “didn’t realize i was adding to the pile. won’t happen again. at least… i’ll try not to be a complete dick about it. ”
josh finally lifted his gaze through the glass. the stunned look from right after the confrontation hadn’t fully faded, but something in it had shifted– less guarded, more surprised. he studied tyler for a long moment, like he was waiting for the punchline that never came.
“…thanks,” he said quietly. it sounded like it cost him to say even that much. “for both parts. the defense and… the apology. ”
tyler gave a small shrug, trying to keep it light but not dismissive. “don’t mention it. seriously. i mean it. ”
they held eye contact a second longer than either expected. then josh picked the sticks back up, rolling his shoulders once like he was shaking off the lingering tension. “alright,” he said, voice a little steadier. “let’s try the chorus again. i’ve got an idea for the fill on the turnaround. ”
tyler slid back into his chair at the console, a faint, genuine smile tugging at his mouth. “hit it. ”
the track started rolling. this time, when josh played, there was a new looseness to it, not reckless, but freer. the grooves locked in tighter, the energy between the drums and tyler’s beats suddenly syncing in a way it hadn’t before. tyler adjusted a layer on the fly, stripping back one of the flashier synths to let josh’s kick drum breathe more. josh answered by adding a subtle ghost note on the snare that made the whole thing swing harder. no barked criticisms. no defensive shutdowns.
just music, flowing. by the time they wrapped the final take of the night, the speakers were humming with something alive and cohesive. tyler leaned back, arms crossed, nodding slowly as the last notes faded.
“damn,” he said, almost to himself. “that actually sounds like a song now. ”josh stepped into the control room a minute later, towel around his neck, sweat darkening the collar of his hoodie. he looked exhausted but less closed off. the walls weren’t gone, but a few bricks had definitely shifted. he stopped a few feet away, hesitating before speaking. “it sounded good,” he admitted. “better than before. ”
tyler glanced up at him, the half-smirk returning but softer now. “yeah. turns out when we’re not trying to kill each other, we don’t suck. ”
josh huffed, a tiny, reluctant sound that might have been the start of a laugh. he didn’t argue.
the tension between them hadn’t disappeared. it had simply changed shape again: still charged, still sharp in places, but now threaded with the first threads of real chemistry. as josh grabbed his bag to head out, he paused at the door.
“see you tomorrow?” he asked.
tyler nodded. “wouldn’t miss it. ”for the first time, it didn’t sound like a challenge. it sounded like a promise.
*--{📼}--*
the next day’s session started quieter than the one before. tyler arrived early, something he rarely did. he checked the studio door twice, making sure the lock engaged properly, before dropping his bag and queuing up the previous night’s files. when josh walked in ten minutes later, hoodie zipped high and sticks already in hand, tyler greeted him with a simple nod instead of the usual sharp comment.
“morning,” tyler said. “door’s locked. no surprise visitors today. ”josh paused, registering the words. his eyes flicked to the deadbolt, then back to tyler. he gave a small nod in return.
“thanks. ”
they eased into work without the usual friction. the track from yesterday still felt good, solid foundation, room to grow. but something in the air had shifted. every time josh stepped into the live room, tyler found himself glancing toward the hallway, hyper-aware of footsteps outside. once, when a random assistant poked his head in to ask about scheduling, tyler shot the guy a hard look that made him back out immediately.
josh noticed. during the first break, tyler pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text while josh was still behind the kit:
tyler: you good? need anything from the vending machine? water? coffee that doesn’t taste like regret?
josh’s phone buzzed on the couch. he read the message, eyebrows lifting slightly. instead of the short “fine” he might have sent yesterday, he typed back:
josh: water’s good. thanks.
when josh came into the control room, tyler handed him a cold bottle without a word. their fingers brushed as the plastic changed hands. the contact was brief, barely a second, but tyler felt it like a spark traveling up his arm. josh’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly before he pulled away, murmuring another quiet “thanks. ”
they worked through the afternoon like that. subtle things kept stacking up. tyler adjusted the talkback volume lower when josh seemed tense.
he positioned himself between josh and the door whenever someone passed in the hallway. during one longer break, when josh went to change shirts in the bathroom (still refusing the open room), tyler stood casually by the door like a silent sentry until josh returned. josh started noticing the pattern. the walls he’d kept bolted shut began to loosen, brick by brick. mid-session, while tyler was tweaking a synth layer, josh spoke up from behind the kit, voice carrying through the open talkback for the first time without being prompted.
“my little sister used to steal my sticks when i was fifteen,” he said suddenly, almost offhand. “she’d bang on pots and pans pretending she was in a band. drove my parents crazy. ”
tyler froze at the console, surprised by the voluntary detail. he turned toward the glass, keeping his tone light but genuinely curious. “yeah? she any good?”josh huffed a small sound, almost a laugh.
“terrible. but she had more energy than me. still does. ”tyler smiled, small and real.
“sounds like she’d fit right in here. we could use that energy on the bridge. ”
josh met his eyes through the glass. the look lingered a beat longer than necessary. neither of them looked away immediately. something electric crackled in the space between them, charged, unspoken. later, when they were both in the control room listening back to a take, josh reached for the mouse at the same time tyler did.
their hands collided.
tyler felt the warmth of josh’s skin, the slight callus on his palm from years of drumming. josh didn’t pull back right away. for half a second, their fingers stayed tangled over the trackpad.
tyler became acutely aware of how close they were sitting, of the way josh’s shoulder brushed his, of the faint scent of clean sweat and whatever subtle cologne josh wore. josh’s breath caught again. he shifted, creating a careful inch of space, but his eyes flicked to tyler’s mouth for the briefest moment before he looked down at the screen. tyler swallowed, hyper-aware now of every micro-movement josh made, the way his shoulders relaxed fractionally when the door stayed locked, the subtle tension that still lingered when voices passed in the hall, the way he tugged his hoodie sleeves over his hands when he felt exposed.
“you’re staring,” josh muttered during the next break, not accusatory, just quiet observation. tyler didn’t deny it.
“yeah. trying to figure out your tells. so i don’t accidentally push too hard again. ”josh looked at him then, really looked. the guarded intensity was still there, but softer around the edges. “you’re… different today. ”
tyler leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck in that half-cocky, half-awkward way of his. “figured i owed you that much after yesterday. plus…” he shrugged, smirking faintly. “turns out you’re a lot easier to work with when i’m not being a total prick. ”
josh’s lips twitched, the closest thing to a real smile tyler had seen from him. “high praise.”
the tension between them wasn’t hostile anymore. it had thickened into something warmer, heavier. every accidental touch felt deliberate. every lingering glance carried weight. tyler found himself cataloging the small ways josh protected himself, how he angled his body away from the door, how his voice dropped when he shared even tiny pieces of himself, and it made something fiercely protective flare in tyler’s chest. as the session wound down, they nailed one final pass of the chorus. the chemistry was undeniable now:
tyler’s beats had more groove, josh’s drumming had more fire. the music breathed between them, alive and synced in a way it hadn’t been before. when josh packed up, he paused at the door, bag slung over his shoulder. “text me if you want to run ideas tonight,” he said. it wasn’t quite an invitation, but it wasn’t a shutdown either. tyler nodded, eyes steady on josh’s.
“will do. get home safe.”
josh held the gaze one last time, charged, questioning, electric, before slipping out. tyler stayed behind, staring at the closed door, heart beating a little harder than the music alone could explain. the walls were lowering. and tyler was starting to realize just how badly he wanted to be let all the way in.
*--{📼}--*
the session had run long, well past midnight. the rest of the building was dark and quiet, but the small control room still glowed with the soft blue light of the monitors. empty coffee cups and half-eaten protein bars littered the table. the track they’d been working on looped quietly in the background on low volume, a gentle pulse that filled the space without demanding attention. tyler had killed the overhead lights an hour ago. something about the dimmer setting made the room feel safer, less exposed. he sat sideways in his chair, one leg propped on the console, watching josh across from him on the couch.
josh had been quieter than usual all evening, but not in the closed-off way from before. it felt heavier tonight, like something was pressing on him, asking to be let out. tyler didn’t push. he just waited, spinning a pen between his fingers, giving josh the space to decide. eventually, josh spoke, voice low and rough.
“i owe you the truth. after yesterday… and everything today. you stood up for me when you didn’t have to.”
tyler set the pen down. “you don’t owe me anything, josh.”
josh shook his head slowly. “i want to tell you. just… don’t interrupt, okay? it’s easier if i get it all out.”
tyler nodded, leaning forward slightly, giving him his full attention. josh stared at his hands, fingers tracing an old scar on his left knuckle from years of drumming. “i’ve known something was wrong since i was a kid. not just ‘tomboy’ wrong. it was deeper. every time someone called me ‘she’ or ‘pretty girl,’ it felt like my skin was too tight, like i was suffocating inside my own body. dysphoria… it’s constant. waking up every morning and seeing a reflection that doesn’t match what’s in your head. binding hurt like hell, but not binding hurt worse. voice training, hormones, surgery scares– it’s all been one long war with myself just to feel halfway human.”
he swallowed hard.
“my family never got it. dad especially. he thought it was a joke. a phase. ‘you’ll grow out of it, jess. stop trying to ruin your life. ’ every time i corrected him, he laughed it off or got angry. called me dramatic. said i was just looking for attention. my mom tried to be gentle, but she still deadnamed me behind my back. my brother treated it like a weird hobby i’d eventually drop. so i stopped talking about it at home. drums became the only place i could disappear into something that felt real.”j
osh’s voice dropped even lower. “the industry made it worse. first couple of sessions, i was careful. kept it quiet. but word gets around. i had a collaborator once, producer who swore he was an ally. said all the right things. we got close. too close. then one night after a few drinks he told me he was only ‘into it’ because he thought it was hot, this whole ‘secret’ thing. when i pulled back, he started using it against me. threatened to out me to the label if i didn’t keep working with him on his terms. another time, a band i was touring with found out and suddenly i was the ‘diversity hire’ in every conversation. jokes behind my back. questions about my body in the green room like it was casual locker-room talk. one guy even said i was ‘brave’ for trying so hard to be edgy. like my entire existence was a marketing gimmick. ”josh finally looked up, eyes glassy but steady. “that’s why i came in here locked down. every barbed comment from you felt like the start of another betrayal. i figured if i kept the walls high and gave you nothing personal, i couldn’t get burned again. i’ve been outed, mocked, used, and discarded enough times that i don’t trust easy. especially not cocky rising-star producers who could ruin me with one interview.”
the room fell quiet except for the soft loop of the track. tyler didn’t speak right away. his jaw was tight, eyes dark with a mix of anger and something deeper. when he finally did, his voice was rough with emotion. “jesus, josh… i had no idea it was that bad. i’m so fucking sorry. not just for the shit i said at the beginning, but for every asshole who made you feel like you had to armor up just to do your job. that producer? the band guys? they’re pieces of shit. using you like that, your identity, your trust, it makes me furious. you didn’t deserve any of it. none of it.”
he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, expression raw. “i was drawn to you from the second i walked in. not just your playing, though fuck, you’re insanely talented, but you. the intensity. the way you hold the room even when you’re trying to disappear. i hid it behind all that cocky bullshit because it was easier than admitting i was intimidated. easier than risking getting shut down. i figured if i kept pushing, kept teasing, i could stay in control. turns out i was just being an idiot.”
josh let out a slow breath, shoulders dropping like some invisible weight had finally shifted. “i wasn’t shutting you out because i hated you,” he admitted quietly. “it was fear. every time you got close, my brain screamed ‘danger. ’ i kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the jokes, the betrayal, the moment you’d use it against me. but you didn’t. you defended me. hard. and today… the way you’ve been looking out for me, locking doors, checking in… it’s messing with my head. in a good way. i’m still scared, but… i don’t want to keep pushing you away.”
their eyes met across the small space. the air felt thicker, charged with everything finally laid bare. no more sharp banter. no more walls slammed shut. just two people sitting in the quiet aftermath of truth. tyler’s voice was soft when he spoke again. “thank you for trusting me with that. i mean it. i won’t fuck it up.”
josh gave a small, tentative nod. a fragile, genuine smile ghosted across his face for the first time. “i believe you. ”
the track continued to loop gently in the background, but neither of them moved to stop it. the hostility that had defined their first days together had completely melted away, replaced by something deeper, raw attraction, quiet care, and the tentative beginning of real trust. for the first time, the space between them didn’t feel like a battlefield. it felt like the start of something worth protecting.
*--{📼}--*
tyler’s apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the city outside the tall windows. the lights were off; only the warm glow of a single floor lamp in the corner and the faint blue from the skyline lit the open living room. they’d left the studio together after the last take, the air between them thick with everything they’d finally said out loud.
no words on the drive. just glances. just the shared understanding that tonight wasn’t going to end at the door. now josh stood in the middle of tyler’s bedroom, hoodie still zipped to his throat, arms crossed loosely like he was holding himself together. tyler closed the door behind them with a soft click, then turned, eyes steady. “you can leave anytime,” tyler said, voice low and calm. “say the word and i stop. no questions.”
josh nodded once, breath already shallow. “i know. i… i want this. just– go slow?”
“slow as you need. ” tyler stepped closer, close enough that josh could feel the heat of him but not close enough to crowd. he lifted a hand, slow and deliberate, and cupped josh’s jaw. his thumb brushed over the sharp line of cheekbone. “tell me if anything feels off. even a little.”
their first kiss started like that, tyler leaning in with agonizing patience, giving josh every second to pull away. when their lips finally met, it was soft at first, almost careful. tyler tasted like the mint gum he’d chewed in the car and the faint salt of studio coffee.
josh’s mouth parted on a shaky exhale, and tyler deepened it slowly, tongue sliding against josh’s with reverent heat. the kiss turned hungry in stages: a gentle press becoming a slow lick, then a needy tilt of heads as josh finally let himself lean in. their tongues tangled, wet and warm, breaths mingling in soft, desperate sounds.
tyler’s hand slid to the back of josh’s neck, fingers threading into short hair, holding him like something precious while the kiss grew heated; messy, open-mouthed, full of years of unspoken want. when they broke apart, both breathing hard, tyler rested their foreheads together. “still good?” he whispered.
“yeah,” josh breathed. “don’t stop. ”
tyler kissed him again, slower this time, guiding him backward until the backs of josh’s knees hit the edge of the bed. they sank down together, tyler settling over him without putting full weight on him. hands explored with care, tyler’s palms sliding under the hem of josh’s hoodie, mapping the tight compression of the binder beneath. he paused there, thumb stroking the edge of the fabric. “can i take this off?” tyler asked against josh’s mouth, voice husky but gentle. “only if you want. i want to see you, all of you. but only if you’re ready. ”
josh’s eyes fluttered open, vulnerable and searching. he searched tyler’s face for any flicker of hesitation and found none. “yeah… okay. ”
tyler helped him sit up, peeling the hoodie off first, then carefully working the binder up and over josh’s head. the moment it came free, josh’s breasts, soft, full, flushed from being bound all day, settled naturally against his chest. he instinctively moved to cover them, but tyler caught his wrists with infinite gentleness. “don’t,” tyler murmured, kissing the inside of one wrist. “you’re beautiful. every part of you. ”
his hands moved reverently, cupping the soft weight of josh’s breasts like they were something sacred. he was so, so gentle, thumbs brushing feather-light over sensitive nipples, watching josh’s face the entire time. when josh arched with a quiet gasp, tyler leaned down and kissed one nipple, then the other, slow open-mouthed presses that turned into lazy, worshipful licks. “so fucking perfect,” he whispered against warm skin. “tell me what feels good. ”
“like that,” josh managed, voice breaking. “gentle, yeah, like that.”
tyler stayed there for long minutes, lavishing attention on josh’s chest with tender kisses and careful sucks, hands kneading softly while his mouth worked. only when josh was trembling did tyler move lower, kissing down the line of his sternum, over the faint red marks the binder had left, murmuring affirmations the whole way. “you’re safe,” he said between kisses. “i’ve got you. let me take care of you.”
clothes came off slowly, tyler’s shirt first, then josh’s joggers, then his own. tyler kept checking in with soft questions and lingering looks. when he finally settled between josh’s spread thighs, he paused again. “still okay?” his fingers traced the seam of josh’s folds, already slick and warm. “we can stop anytime. ”
“don’t stop,” josh whispered, hips twitching. “please. ”
tyler kissed him deeply as two fingers slid inside, slow and careful, curling just right. josh moaned into his mouth, hands fisting in tyler’s hair. tyler worked him open with patient strokes, thumb circling his clit in steady, reverent circles. the whole time he kept whispering, “so good for me,” “let go, baby,” “i want to feel you come”, voice low and possessive in the gentlest way. when josh finally came the first time, it was with tyler’s mouth on his clit and three fingers buried deep, back arching off the bed as he cried out. tyler didn’t stop until the tremors faded, then kissed his way back up, tasting himself on josh’s lips. “again?” tyler asked, already reaching for the lube on the nightstand.
josh nodded, eyes glassy with trust. “yeah. want you inside me. ”
tyler rolled on a condom with steady hands, then pressed in slow, inch by inch, until he was fully seated, forehead pressed to josh’s. they stayed like that, breathing together, until
josh rocked his hips. “move,” josh breathed. tyler did, deep, rolling thrusts that built gradually, one hand braced beside josh’s head, the other cupping a breast again with that same aching gentleness. their bodies moved together in a slow, intense rhythm, skin sliding, breaths mingling in heated kisses. tyler’s protectiveness turned possessively tender, he whispered “mine to take care of,” against josh’s throat as he thrust harder, hips snapping with controlled power. josh let go completely for the first time, legs wrapped tight around tyler’s waist, nails digging into his back as he came again with a broken moan. tyler followed seconds later, burying himself deep and shuddering through his own release, murmuring josh’s name like a prayer. afterward, tyler didn’t pull out right away. he stayed inside, kissing josh slow and lazy, hands stroking soothing patterns over sweat-damp skin, especially gentle over his breasts, thumbs brushing softly as if to memorize the feel. when he finally eased out and disposed of the condom, tyler pulled josh into his arms without hesitation.
they tangled together under the sheets, josh’s head on tyler’s chest, tyler’s fingers carding through his hair. “you okay?” tyler asked softly, pressing a kiss to his temple. josh nodded against his skin, voice quiet but steady.
“more than okay. i… i didn’t think i’d ever let anyone see me like that again. not without waiting for the other shoe to drop. ”tyler’s arms tightened around him, protective and warm. “no other shoe. not with me. you’re safe here. all of you, every inch. i want all of it. ”
josh let out a long, shaky breath that sounded like years of tension finally releasing. he tilted his head up for another slow kiss, this one soft and grateful. they stayed like that for a long time, cuddling, trading quiet words about nothing and everything, tyler’s hand still gently cupping josh’s breast under the sheet like he couldn’t bear to stop touching him. the bond between them felt solid now, forged in trust and heat and the kind of care josh had stopped believing he’d ever find.