Words Like Violence (Break the Silence)

by RAWFEARR

Summary:

Stumbling through years of uncertainty has caused Tyler's vision to tunnel, picking apart every display of kindness, selflessness, and compassion, trying to determine the motives behind them. And unfortunately for someone like his curly-haired coworker, who's always been kind, and selfless, and compassionate since the day they met, he probably perceives Tyler's skepticism more as a hatred towards him.

Notes:

so excited to be posting this oneshot i wrote for kenton and milo's scaled and icy 5 year anniversary collab!! thank you for hosting this, it was so much fun :) shoutout to ban for beta reading

my prompt was "cynical"

(tw for passive suicidal thoughts. it's brief, but just in case)

Tyler has always hated uncertainty. It's too vast, too spacious. It leaves too much room for error. It's unpredictable, and precarious, and a favorable outcome relies too heavily on chance.

Especially when it comes to people, stumbling through years of uncertainty has caused his vision to tunnel, picking apart every display of kindness, selflessness, and compassion, trying to determine the motives behind them. And unfortunately for someone like his curly-haired coworker, who's always been kind, and selfless, and compassionate since the day they met, he probably perceives Tyler's skepticism more as a hatred towards him.

Tyler doesn't hate Josh. Really, he doesn't.

But his glares and scowls and overall bluntness have become second nature. He doesn't know how to stop, or if he even wants to.

"Slow day, huh?" Josh says from behind the register counter, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

Tyler blinks, realizing way too late that he zoned out staring directly at him over the top of the CD rack. "Yeah," he responds, returning to the brutally understimulating task of organizing the used CDs.

"I'm surprised, usually it's busier than this on Thursdays," Josh continues.

"Mhm." Tyler silently curses himself for accidentally inviting this conversation. He glances out the window by the entrance, only to be met with the reflection of vinyl record shelves and the poster-covered wall behind him. If he looked for longer, he could probably find the outline of the sidewalk under the dim street lamp, but the bright fluorescent lights inside the small store make it too difficult with just a glance.

"Got any plans after work?"

"Uh… no." Tyler slides a case out of the rack and moves it to its correct place.

He hasn't had any real plans for the past five years, and he knows Josh doesn't want to hear about the hours he spends on his phone in bed, or the way he berates himself if he can't find meaning in the words he writes. Those aren't plans. Josh is talking about the thing usually made with friends.

The music playing quietly over the store speakers suddenly stops. Tyler and Josh look up at each other in tandem, turning toward the back of the room as a middle-aged woman with a graying pixie cut walks out. "You guys can go clock out," Jess says. "There's still about twenty minutes until eight, but I doubt anyone else is coming in."

"Are you sure?" Josh asks. "I can stay, it's just twenty minutes."

Jess waves a hand dismissively. "Nah, go home, I'll wait to close up. Remember to fill in your timesheets though."

Tyler practically runs to the break room. He slides his arms through the sleeves of his coat, barely acknowledging Josh when he walks through the doorway. The two of them get ready to leave in silence, awkwardness hanging in the air and growing with each passing second. Josh seems completely unbothered by it.

After double checking that his keys and phone are in his coat pocket, Tyler swings his backpack onto his shoulder and heads for the door.

"Tyler, hold up," Josh says before he can leave.

Tyler freezes, then turns around.

Josh flashes a quick smile. "I just… wanted to see if you were free to hang out tonight."

Tyler stares at him, mouth slightly agape. "With you?" His eyes widen immediately after the words leave his mouth, realizing how cold they must've sounded.

Josh smiles wider, eyes squinting despite his rudeness. "Yeah, I mean— some friends and I were planning on going to a bar a few blocks away," he says, reaching for his denim jacket draped over a white plastic folding chair. Tyler's eyes lock onto a black embroidered patch on the back, the thin stem of a red rose silhouette running straight down the center of it. "You could join us, if you want."

Memories suddenly fill Tyler's head, too sudden, too intense, too vivid to control. He can almost see the faces of his high school friends as they watched the light catch the ripples in the river. He can almost hear their voices, their laughter, the songs blasting from a portable speaker, the live music in the park. He can almost feel the warmth of the setting sun hitting his face from a parking garage rooftop.

Each memory flashes behind his eyes faster than lightning, temporarily blinding him with a sense of hope. He could have something like that again. People to hang out with, to talk with, to spend time with. A group to belong to.

But the onslaught of emotions that follow is ten times stronger, crashing down on him and rumbling through his chest like thunder.

Anger. Rage. Resentment towards his friends for moving on. For letting their group chats become graveyards for their friendship once Tyler stopped wasting his energy caring about people who didn't care about him.

And now Josh is inviting him to hang out with his friends. Out of nowhere. Was he dared to ask? Is this some kind of joke? This can't be genuine, right? There has to be some catch. There's always a catch.

"I'm good, actually," Tyler says.

Josh stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket and nods, facial expression impossible to read. "No worries. Maybe next time."

Tyler gives a curt nod before turning around.

"See ya, Tyler!" Jess calls out as he passes by.

"See you tomorrow," he says, pushing open the glass door.

A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he steps out into the darkness. The frigid air instantly slaps him in the face, freezing his windpipe with every inhale. His breaths appear in front of him as he walks to his car, white clouds puffing from his mouth and drifting into the air. The brink of spring has never felt so cold.

Stepping down from the sidewalk to cross the street, Tyler replays the events in the break room in his head, still wondering if Josh was being sincere.

Things are rarely done with sincerity. Even if they start out that way, people always end up wanting something in return. He probably dodged a bullet.

Tyler's car unlocks with a click. He tosses his backpack onto the passenger seat, then ducks into the driver's side and turns his key in the ignition. The engine rumbles to life, warm air blasting through the vents as he cranks up the heat. He cups his hands over his mouth and blows into it, trying to thaw his frozen fingers.

As soon as he's found a suitable playlist for the drive home, he sets his phone down and prepares to pull out from the curbside. A figure dressed in all black startles him when he looks up, headlights acting more as a spotlight than anything else.

It's Josh. He's walking across the street toward Tyler's car, his shadow twice as tall against the wall of the building behind him. He offers a soft smile and a small wave before continuing down the sidewalk.

Tyler keeps his expression neutral. He doesn't glare or return the smile, just checks his mirrors and turns out of his parking spot to start the drive home.

The further he gets from the record store, the more he ponders what would've happened if he agreed to tag along tonight. Would Josh's friends even like him? He's just one of his coworkers; they're not even acquaintances. He probably would've just been third wheeling the entire night. Or fourth wheeling. Fifth? How many friends does Josh have?

Enough to hang out at bars, that's for sure. What was the point of inviting him to join?

Tyler forces the thoughts out of his head and focuses on merging onto the highway, Title and Registration blasting from his car's stereo system.

—

Debby's face lights up the second she spots Josh walking towards her. She waves him over, and Josh picks up his pace, battered combat boots pounding the sidewalk with every step.

"Joshua!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around him and pulling him in for a quick hug. "How was your shift?"

"It was good! The last two hours were so boring though. Store was dead," Josh responds. "How was yours?"

Debby lets out a groan and shakes her head. "Some people just don't get that even if I cut their hair exactly like their inspo picture, they won't look like the inspo picture because they're not the person in their inspo picture."

Josh winces. "Don't tell me they started yelling at you."

"She very much did."

Josh sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, imagining the whole scenario. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever, I don't even care. Didn't bother me at all," Debby says with feigned composure, earning a giggle from Josh. She drops the act and smiles. "Rest of my clients today were good though."

Josh nods. "That's good."

Debby motions toward the entrance. "C'mon, Mark got us a table already."

Josh follows her inside, a wall of noise and heat hitting him as he passes through the doorway. He latches onto Debby's arm, not wanting to get lost in the sea of people. Mark waves as they approach, moving over and making room for them to sit.

"Hey!" he greets as Josh slides into the booth. "Glad you could make it."

"Yeah, me too," Josh says. "It's been a while since we've been here."

"Too long, man."

"Debby said she'd buy the first round of shots to persuade me, but—"

"Oh, is that why you agreed to come?" Debby asks in mock offense.

"But don't tell her I was going to come and pay anyway," Josh finishes, fishing out his wallet and sliding out a card. He holds it out towards Debby between his index and middle finger.

Debby takes the card and points at him with it. "You evil, evil man," she says with a grin, tucking the card in the pocket of her jeans and turning toward the bar.

Mark laughs as he watches the scene unfold in front of him.

"Say hi to Jenna for us!" Josh shouts after her.

Debby swivels back around, holds up a middle finger, then continues on her way.

"You didn't bring that guy from work?" Mark asks. "What's his name again?"

"Tyler," Josh says, trying to tug off his jacket, the friction from the denim against his cotton hoodie and the tight space behind the table making it significantly more difficult than usual. "I asked, but he declined."

"Maybe it was too last minute?"

"Maybe. He said he wasn't doing anything tonight, but he could've been lying, of course." Josh pulls the hoodie over his head and sets it next to him on the booth. "I dunno."

Mark nods slowly.

Josh lets out a long sigh. "I really think he just needs a friend, Mark. But I don't know how to be one when he doesn't even want to talk to me."

"Just be patient with him. Maybe he'll open up eventually. Like you did."

"And if he doesn't?"

Mark shrugs. "You can't force it."

Josh fiddles with the knuckles in his fingers under the table. "I know."

"You just gotta be there for him when he needs it."

"I know." Josh's shirt is still sticking to his back from sweat, and the collective heat from everyone inside the building isn't helping. He pinches the front of his shirt and fans it away from his chest. "God, why's it so hot in here?"

"'Cause you decided to walk instead of letting us pick you up," Mark laughs.

Josh rolls his eyes. "Shut up, man."

Mark just laughs harder.

"How's work been going?"

"It's been good! Our project managers have been super stressed, so I'm just trying to make their jobs easier by doing my part, y'know? Get the models and assets done on time, fix what they need me to fix so they can deal with the more pressing issues, like coding and all that." Mark explains. "It's happening though, progress is being made."

"Hell yeah!" Josh exclaims. "I'm so excited to see the final product."

Mark breaks into a wide grin at Josh's enthusiasm. "There's still a lot more work to be done before we even think about QA testing, but yeah, it's exciting."

Josh eyes the sea of people by the bar, catching a glimpse of Debby's brown ponytail at the front of the line. "Did Debby tell you about her awful client today?"

Mark widens his eyes and nods. "Can't believe some people have the audacity to just yell at their stylists like that. What happened to forcing a smile and saying you love it even when you don't?"

"Right? Jeez." Josh shakes his head.

"How's the record store been?" Mark asks. "Other than the whole Tyler situation."

"Pretty good, store was super empty today. Tomorrow's new release day, so it should be busier, but I'm not scheduled."

Debby emerges from the crowd, holding three shots in her hands as she walks toward the table. "That line is so long," she says, carefully setting the glasses down.

Josh frowns. "You should've texted me, I would've helped bring 'em back."

Debby waves a dismissive hand, sliding into the booth next to Josh. "I juggle shears and brushes and hairdryers everyday, this is nothing." She brushes her bangs out of her face, then grabs a shot and holds it up. "Ready?"

Josh and Mark take theirs and do the same.

"What're we toasting to?" Debby asks.

"Up to you," Josh says.

"You bought the shot."

"And I'm saying it's up to you."

"To Josh, then," she says, throwing him a glance,"for finally leaving his house."

Mark cheers while Josh laughs and shakes his head. They clink their glasses, tap the table with them, and down the liquor.

—

Tyler can't sleep.

He's been in lying in bed for a while, but his thoughts won't quiet down. They've been spinning in circles, revolving around the same thing for the past… however many hours since work.

Tyler rolls over and checks the time. It's just past one in the morning.

While insomnia isn't exactly a new thing for him, it hasn't been an issue for years. Usually he'd be asleep seconds after setting his phone down. Usually the darkness of his room is more than enough to knock him out instantly. Usually Josh doesn't casually invite him to hang out.

Five hours. He's spent five hours thinking about Josh. It's been constant since he left the record store, no matter where he is or what he's doing. Whether it was in the car, or at the dinner table, or in the shower, or in the basement in front of the piano. The only thing in his mind for the past five hours has been Josh.

And the worst part about it? He knows exactly why.

Tyler should be glad he decided not to spend his night in a dark, hot, sweaty bar. He should be glad that he's not surrounded by intoxicated people and a million different voices all at once. He should be thankful that he's home, warm in bed, buried beneath his comforter and sunken into his pillows.

But he's not.

He was invited out for the first time in years, and he declined. Is he fucking stupid?

Yeah, he's an idiot. Check mark. Correct dinging noise. Thumbs up emoji. Next question.

Actually, no. Enough questions. Stop thinking. Good-fucking-night. Tyler yanks his blanket up to his chin and turns onto his side. He closes his eyes, but all he can see is Josh's face, his lips speaking the words, you could join us, if you want.

He could've. But just like so many other things in the past, hanging out with Josh has turned into another "what could've been" scenario to dwell on for the rest of his life.

And he can't even escape it how he normally does. Because he can't fucking sleep.

Tyler allows his imagination to wander, hoping that maybe his brain will tire itself out enough to fall asleep if he lets it run wild for a moment. Like a toddler. He's treating his brain like a hyperactive toddler.

His mind conjures a memory of a summer sunset, vivid and colorful. But instead of his high school friends with him, it's Josh. Just the two of them for now, as Tyler has no clue what his friends look like. They're sitting on a wooden dock by the river, watching the pink and orange clouds drift through the vibrant sky. Maybe they're sharing earbuds. Is that too much? Probably.

Okay, no earbuds. A speaker instead. Playing… what song? What would they be listening to? Tyler's go-to during sunsets—or any time, really—was always Death Cab for Cutie, but the patches on Josh's jacket are mostly '80s bands. The ones he recognizes are, anyway. Why does he know that?

Whatever. Death Cab. Sure. Something from their Plans album, maybe, pumping through the tiny speaker as they both stare out at the sky. Josh would say something, then, breaking the silence with something funny. Or beautifully poetic. Or both. And Tyler would turn toward him, listening intently regardless of the tone, noticing how the golden light makes his pale skin glow…

Nope, that's weird. He made it weird.

Tyler turns over again and shoves out the lingering images in his head. No more river docks. No more sunsets. No more Josh. Just silence, darkness, and sleep.

He does hope Josh made it home safe though. Or makes it home safe, if he's still out right now, at one in the goddamn morning. Tyler can't ever fathom coming home this late. At least Josh has tomorrow off to deal with his hangover.

He finally passes out at some point, waking up to daylight outside his bedroom window. But the air is somehow heavier now, the boulder of expectations for the day crushing his chest. The alarm on his phone grows louder the more he gains consciousness. Tyler reaches over, looking through squinting eyes as he taps the screen to snooze it. Ten minutes pass way too quickly for his liking.

By the time his alarm rings for the fourth time, he's more annoyed than sleepy.

He could call in sick. It wouldn't be the first time, and definitely won't be the last. It's not like he needs the money, he still lives with his parents. The only reason he started working was to get them off his ass about "keeping a routine" since he dropped out of college.

What a disappointment. Twenty-three years old, and he still has zero plans for his future. Why should he? What does it matter? His world will end one day, and all of this will have been for… what? Nothing? What difference does it make? What difference does he make?

He'll spend the rest of his days in a body he never wanted, living a life he never asked for, and then he'll die and no one will care enough to cry because his existence never mattered to anyone. Nights will fall and the sun will rise all the same, and the world will be a better place because he's no longer in it.

God. Today is not going to be a good day.

Tyler forces himself out of bed and shuffles down the hall toward the bathroom, finally starting to get ready for work. By the time he's changed and ready to leave, he's already late. He grumbles a string of profanities once he notices the time, grabbing his bag, his keys, and descending the creaking stairs. The house is empty and silent, his parents already at work, and his siblings already at school.

The End Has No End by The Strokes blasts from his speakers as he speeds down the highway. One hand grips the steering wheel while the other shields his eyes from the light reflecting off other cars on the road. He mutters something about the day being too bright as soon as the sun becomes obscured by city skyscrapers.

Parking against the curb about a block away from the record store, he lets out an agitated groan when he can't seem to straighten out in the tight spot. He was never good at parallel parking, and was always too stubborn to get better at it. He's crooked, whatever, it's fine. As long as he's not sticking out into the street too much.

"Sorry I'm late," Tyler says to Jess as he enters the store, hurrying towards the back to set down his things.

Jess glances up at him from where she's standing in front of the section of new releases. "No worries," she responds. "And take a breather, you seem frazzled."

Once in the break room, Tyler slides off his bag and shrugs off his coat. He pulls out his phone to clock in, running a hand over his face. Tears begin pooling in his eyes at the mere thought of interacting with customers today. He takes a deep, shaky breath, pushes the tears back, and wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt before returning to the front of the store.

"Beautiful day today, isn't it?" Jess asks, gazing out the window. "Still cold, but at least the sun's out."

"Yeah, it's nice out," Tyler agrees, like he hadn't just complained about how bright it was on his drive here. If not for Jess, he probably wouldn't have given the sun a second thought.

Jess admires the outside world for another second before turning back to Tyler. "Alright. You're on register today, but feel free to help Leo with restocks when it's slow. I put new releases on the stands already. If you need me, I'm just making some phone calls in the back."

"Got it." Tyler keeps his voice firm, even though his sanity is slowly crumbling in his hands. He should've made up some excuse for why he can't work today. He should've sideswiped his car on the freeway and pretended that he needed to deal with his vehicle. He should've called in sick.

Jess smiles and gives his shoulder a small squeeze before heading for the back room.

The first two hours are relatively painless. Tyler's doing a subpar job at making his smiles appear genuine, but all the customers he's helped thus far have been polite, which has made his attempts at returning that kindness a fraction easier.

But during his third hour, he's approached by four teenagers asking about a new record that rings approximately zero bells. He calmly points them to the section of new releases while frantically racking his brain, trying to recall if the album they asked for was in any of the shipments they received over the past week. He can't even ask Leo if he knows what they're looking for, as he's nowhere to be seen on the floor. Panic rises in his throat when they come back claiming they couldn't find it.

"Let me go ask my manager, she'll probably be able to help you more than I can," Tyler tells them, forcing the most convincing smile he can muster. The group begins murmuring to each other as he walks away. One of them lets out an impatient sigh.

Tyler's heart rate skyrockets. They're annoyed. He's angered them. They're pissed off and wondering why he's so incompetent at his job. He forces his breaths to remain even and controlled as he walks toward the back room. He's not going to lose his composure in front of a group of teenagers.

How did he even get hired in the first place? He was supposed to be a seasonal employee, only working through the holiday rush. Why did he agree to stay when Jess offered him an actual position? He's not good at his job. He doesn't know enough about music. He's too attached to his early 2000s bands to try listening to anything new. Clinging to nostalgia and sentimentality is ruining his life.

He's not like Josh, hardworking and intelligent and kind and well-versed in everything musical. Josh would be able to help these kids. He'd know what they're talking about the moment they said the album or artist name.

"Jess," Tyler calls out once he's successfully made it to the back room without breaking down.

"Yes?" Jess pokes her head out from around the corner, immediately taking in the sight of a very frazzled Tyler. Her expression shifts. "What's up?"

Tyler jabs his thumb towards the front of the store. Jess's figure blurs behind the tears in his eyes. His voice comes out wavering and pathetic. "These teens need help, they asked for an album, I directed them to the new releases, but they came back and I have no idea what they're talking about and they're getting annoyed and I—"

"Alright, alright, I'll handle it," Jess says, walking to the door. "Take a break, okay?" She pulls the door open, and she's gone.

Tyler bends over and places his hands on his knees the moment the door closes, throat squeezing shut and cutting off his air flow. He's losing feeling in his hands and feet. Tears drip from his eyelashes onto the concrete floor. He should've called in sick.

Is all this really happening because of some rude teenagers? That's his breaking point? The opinions of four teenagers?

Jess is going to fire him. She's going to come back and yell at him for being incapable of doing his job right and then she's going to fire him.

He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here. Tyler stands upright, stumbling toward the door like he's drunk. The metal door swings inwards as he reaches for the handle, almost knocking him to the floor.

Jess takes only a second to process what's happening. "Whoa, okay, let's slow down, yeah?" She steadies him by the shoulders, only releasing him when she's certain he's not going to topple over.

"I need— I need to go, I'm— I'm sorry, I shouldn't have— I'm not—" Tyler stammers, still unable to get a full breath into his lungs. His gaze darts everywhere but her face.

Jess pulls up a nearby stool and motions for him to sit.

Tyler was planning on riding out the rest of his panic alone in his car, but he doubts he can grab all his things and leave the store and make it to his car without passing out. So he sits.

"Don't fold yourself in half."

He hadn't even realized he'd lowered his chest to his knees. Tyler straightens his back as much as possible, fighting every instinct telling him to curl into himself. His lungs are on fire, burning him from the inside. Every sound except his wheezy hyperventilating is muffled in his ears. He grabs at his chest with a trembling hand, as if that would do anything to ease the tightness inside it. Warmth pulses at his neck, and a shiver runs down his spine.

"Breathe, honey. You're okay."

The room is spinning, his tongue is dry as sandpaper, and with every breath, a knife plunges itself deeper into his heart. He swears the pounding is strong enough and fast enough to cause an earthquake.

Tyler tries to regain control of his inhale first, slowing it down before he blacks out from a lack of oxygen. Once he has a better grasp on that, he focuses on his exhale. Reminding his lungs how to do their job shouldn't take such a conscious effort, but in this moment, it does. As his breathing gradually returns to normal, the pins and needles in his hands and feet begin to subside. The tension in his chest loosens. His hearing returns.

"Better?" Jess asks.

Tyler nods, but refuses to meet her gaze. No one should ever have to see him like this, but especially not someone like Jess. Someone he works for. He wipes at his face with his sleeves, drying any leftover tears.

"Those kids were just being stupid, by the way. They didn't check both sections of new releases," Jess says. "I'm sorry they gave you a tough time."

"It shouldn't have gotten to me so much," Tyler mumbles, voice ridden with shame and embarrassment.

"We're human, Tyler. We have bad days sometimes."

Tyler sniffles, then falls silent again.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off, go do something fun?"

Tyler glances up at her, shame and embarrassment becoming ten times stronger. "I'll make up the hours next week."

Jess shakes her head. "It's okay. No need."

"Are— are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Jess laughs. "You're a good employee, Tyler. I know you're just having an off-day."

The corners of Tyler's lips quirk up into a small smile that fades as soon as he stands.

Jess holds the door open for him. "Give yourself a moment, alright? Take as long as you need before you leave. And get home safe."

Tyler nods and shuffles toward the break room. He lowers himself into one of the folding chairs, burying his face in his damp sleeves. Go do something fun, Jess had said. If only there was something that was fun to him. Everything he tries to do to make himself feel better only seems to make things worse. He can't write, he can't listen to music, and he definitely can't distract himself with friends he doesn't have.

Every sensation hits his body at once—the stinging in his eyes as new tears form, the lump in his throat, the hollow ache in his chest when he realizes that there's nothing waiting for him when he eventually returns home. Nothing. His parents will still be at work. His siblings might be at the house, but they won't want anything to do with him. They never do.

Such a beautiful day outside, and Tyler is going to waste the rest of it in his room.

A figure walks into the break room, swiftly moving to the corner to set down their things. "Oh, hey, Tyler."

Tyler's head shoots up at the voice. Josh stands in front of him, head lowered toward his phone, looking surprisingly put together, considering his activities last night. "I thought you were off today."

"I was, but Zoey needed someone to cover for her, so—" Josh cuts himself off as he looks up, taking notice of Tyler's probably-red-rimmed-and-glassy eyes and probably-still-wet-with-snot nose. "Are you okay?"

Tyler averts his gaze. "Yeah, fine. I was just leaving." He stands from his seat and grabs his coat, shoving his arms through the sleeves.

Josh watches him silently, eyes boring holes into his back.

Tyler swings his backpack onto his shoulder and bolts for the door. "I'll see you later."

"Wait—"

Tyler freezes under the doorway, but doesn't turn, hiding his face as fresh tears pool in his eyes. He inhales slowly, shakily, balling his hands into fists. "Yeah."

Josh doesn't speak for several moments. "Is there… um…"

Tyler urges his body to move, to take this chance to escape, but his feet remain planted. "Josh, I'm fine." His wobbling voice says otherwise.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Josh asks anyway.

"No… I don't think so."

"Would it…" Josh pauses. "Would it be too much to ask you to text me when you get home?"

Pressing his lips together to suppress the quivering, Tyler finally turns around. He keeps his head low, avoiding Josh's gaze. At this point, having someone pretend to care would be better than feeling like no one cares at all. Right?

"You don't— you don't have to, I just—"

"I can do that." Tyler's voice comes out ten times smaller than he expected it to. He pulls out his phone, unlocking it and handing it to Josh.

Josh smiles warmly in his periphery. He takes the device and sends himself a quick text before handing it back. "Get home safe, okay?"

Tyler stands there for a moment, arms limp at his sides. He immediately regrets glancing up at Josh when he notices how his face is twisted in concern. Whether it's genuine concern or not, Tyler isn't sure. He swivels around and leaves before he can figure it out.

Rays of sunshine hit his face the moment he steps outside, a refreshing contrast to when he left last night. He cringes as he approaches his car, seeing how awfully he parked. But there's no ticket on his windshield, and no new scratches on his vehicle. After climbing into the driver's seat, he puts on a playlist and checks the traffic for the route home. Setting down his phone, he flicks on his blinker, preparing to pull out of his spot.

Go do something fun, Jess had said. Tyler drums his fingers against the steering wheel, thinking about whether there's anywhere he wants to go before wallowing in his room. He shifts the car back into park and turns off the blinker, reaching for his phone to reroute.

—

The sunset is stunning today. Dashes of orange and pink paint the darkening blue sky, growing more vibrant every time Josh glances outside. He checks his phone for the first time in about an hour, but there's still no text from Tyler.

A soft sigh escapes his lips as he shoves the phone back into his pocket. It's been difficult getting the image of Tyler's tired and teary eyes out of his head. Maybe it was stupid to ask him for a text. He probably just wanted to be left alone.

But Tyler had agreed, and not in a brushing-him-off type of way either. Not like last night. For now, Josh holds onto the hope that Tyler will eventually follow through.

When his shift ends two hours later, he steps out onto the curb and tosses a glance up at the endless darkness above him. It's a clear night, but all the stars are hidden behind city light pollution. He reaches for his phone to check his notifications. Still nothing from Tyler. It's been almost six hours since he left the store.

Josh sends the first message before he can talk himself out of it. Nothing too pressuring, he's simply checking in. Maybe that'll encourage Tyler to respond.

 

Josh: Hey Tyler, I just wanted to make sure you got home okay

 

He shuts off his phone with a click, but only gets about ten steps in before it buzzes in his hand.

 

Tyler: hey, sorry. i was going to text i swear
Josh: no worries
Tyler: i'm actually not home yet
Josh: You're not?
Tyler: Current Location
Tyler: sunset was pretty today

 

Josh stares at his screen, trying to decipher what Tyler's trying to tell him. The location he sent pinpoints him at a park by the river. Has he been there this whole time? For six hours? Alone? In the dark?

 

Josh: I bet
Josh: How dark is it now?
Tyler: come find out
Josh: You want me to join you?
Tyler: maybe

 

Josh forces the smile off his face as soon as he notices it. After getting into his car, he looks up the directions to Tyler's location.

 

Josh: Be there in 15
^{Tyler liked a message}

 

He shuffles a playlist, cranking up the volume when he hears the beginning notes of Journey's Only Solutions. He turns out of his parking spot and begins the drive to the park.

Josh spots Tyler's car in the small lot and pulls up next to it, killing the engine. Without his headlights, it's hard to see much of anything. He turns on his phone flashlight as he steps out onto the pavement. The slam of his car door echoes into oblivion.

 

Josh: I'm here
Tyler: sitting at the end of the dock

 

Footsteps loud against the wooden planks, Josh finds Tyler exactly where he said he was. He slows his pace as he approaches, muttering a soft, "Hey," once he's in earshot.

"Hi," Tyler responds, not even turning his head.

Josh turns off his flashlight and lowers himself to sit next to him, dangling his legs off the platform, boots mere inches from the water below. Gazing at the sky over the trees, he imagines the sunset from earlier, how beautiful it must've been watching it from here. The vague outline of the other side of the river becomes clearer as his eyes slowly adjust to the darkness.

"I don't know why you came," Tyler says, staring down into the water. "You didn't actually have to."

Josh shrugs. "It's nice to have company sometimes."

"What if I changed my mind?"

"Then I can leave, no problem," Josh says.

Tyler doesn't respond.

"Do you want me to leave?"

He slowly shakes his head.

"Okay." Josh presses his fingernails into the pads of his thumbs. "Have you been here all day?"

"Pretty much."

"How are you doing?" he asks hesitantly.

"I'm fine," Tyler says automatically.

Josh turns his head, keeping his voice gentle as he speaks. "Are you s—"

"Just a bad day at work, okay? I'm fine." Tyler turns his head away from him, pulling his jacket sleeves over his hands and twisting the cuff around his fingers.

Josh shuts his mouth, not wanting to drive him even further away than he already is by pressuring him.

"Sorry," Tyler mutters after a moment.

"No, it's okay. I'm sorry."

Seconds stretch between them, long and heavy and silent. A car passes somewhere behind them on the road, the sound of tires against asphalt growing and receding.

Tyler's breath shudders. "What do you want from me, Josh?"

"What?"

Tyler whips his head towards him, eyes glistening even in the absence of light. His eyebrows are scrunched together, making him look almost… angry. "Why did you invite me out last night? Why are you here now? You're always trying to talk to me at work, always so nice to me, and I just— I can't figure out why. I have nothing to offer. Nothing to give in return. So what do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything in return," Josh says.

Tyler hardens his glare. "Bullshit."

"I just want to make other people's day a little brighter if I can. I want to… I dunno, be a friend."

Tyler's expression softens first, eyebrows straightening out into their natural curve. Then his shoulders relax, hunching forward in his slouch. He lowers his head, returning his gaze to the water.

"It's lonely, not having friends," Josh says.

"You don't know me." The words come out biting, despite his recessive appearance.

"I don't," Josh agrees. "I don't know you at all, and I'm not trying to say that I do. Maybe you have tons of friends. But if you're trying to guess everyone's motives, or constantly distrusting people who do nice things for 'no reason,' I get it. I was like that too."

Tyler remains motionless, letting his words hang in the air before the wind blows them away.

"I was so… alone. And mad, and hurting, and tired, and scared," Josh continues.

"I'm not scared."

"It's okay if you are."

Tyler falls quiet again.

"It became my default after a while. I stopped trying to form friendships because I thought there's no point, even though I craved that connection so badly." Josh runs a hand through his hair. "I'm not claiming to know exactly what you're going through, and please tell me to fuck off if I'm overstepping, but maybe you can relate. Maybe you're dealing with something similar."

Tyler's bottom lip begins quivering. He turns his head again, but his shoulders are trembling from the effort of containing his emotions.

"You're feeling the toll it's taking on your mental state, aren't you?" Josh asks, his voice right above a whisper.

Tyler lets out a noise that falls somewhere between a strangled sob and a gasp, then gives a slow, reluctant nod.

"I know what that's like. I understand," Josh says. "It takes a long time to relearn how to trust, and open up, and be vulnerable again. It's not easy. But starting with one person is better than never starting at all."

Tyler quickly swipes at his face, still desperately trying not to break.

"I can be the one person you start with. I want to be your friend."

At that, Tyler crumbles. His breath hitches, shoulders jerking with every sob he fails to suppress. The sound hits Josh square in the chest, heart cracking and splintering into tiny pieces. Tyler is hurting so badly.

"I haven't— I don't—" he chokes out. "Fuck, I'm not—"

Josh looks down at the water below his boots, not wanting him to feel watched. "Take your time. You don't have to speak at all if you don't want to."

As the minutes tick by, Tyler's sobs slowly reduces to sniffles. He reaches up and wipes his eyes with his sleeves again. "Sorry, I— I didn't mean to just— completely break down in front of you," he stammers, voice still strained.

"It's okay," Josh says, glancing over. "I've been there, trust me."

"It's embarrassing."

Josh shakes his head. "It's not."

"You really just— saw right through me."

A miniscule smile creeps up on Josh's lips. "It's easier to spot when I've been there myself."

Tyler draws in a shaky breath. "Thank you," he whispers, "for not leaving me like that."

"Of course." Josh's heart shatters completely. Leaving him like that? Implying… he's been left like that before?

"I, um…" Tyler pauses. "I guess you deserve some sort of explanation now, huh?"

Josh shakes his head again. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I'm not gonna force you to open up if you're not ready."

"I used to come here all the time with people in high school," Tyler says, words spilling out like water from a tipped glass.

Josh turns his head to look at him.

Tyler doesn't dare meet his gaze. "That was… over five years ago."

"Have you been back since? Before today?"

"I have. It's not the same."

Josh stays quiet, creating space for Tyler to continue.

"Nothing will ever be the same. Even if I still had those friends, nothing will ever feel like the summer before senior year. And that… sucks." Tyler looks up toward the other end of the river, staring into the darkness. "Nothing is supposed to be the same after that amount of time. Things are supposed to change, I know that. But no matter what I do, I can't seem to accept it."

Josh nods sympathetically.

"I'm stuck," Tyler says plainly. "Stuck listening to the same music, stuck coming back to the same places, hoping that something will feel familiar. Nothing ever does."

Josh takes a second to process everything Tyler's told him, repeating the words in his head. Nothing will ever be the same. Things are supposed to change. It's been hard for him to accept the constant shifting of life too, but it's gotten a lot easier recently, knowing he has friends to fall back on. He can't imagine the amount of isolation Tyler has been dealing with. For the past five years, no less.

"What happened to those friends?" he asks.

"They forgot about me at college."

"Oh."

"Two left the state. One of them didn't. He was still in town last time I checked, but that was before he graduated."

Sparks of anger threaten to start a raging fire in Josh's chest. "I'm so sorry, Tyler."

"I hate that it still bothers me. And I hate admitting that it still bothers me even more." Tyler sniffles and pulls his legs up from the edge of the dock, folding them underneath him in a cross-legged position. "Anyway. I've said too much."

Josh opens his mouth to respond, but Tyler starts shivering next to him as the breeze picks up. With how long he's been outside, Josh is surprised he hasn't already frozen to death. "You wanna come sit in my car?" he offers. "I'll crank up the heat and we can listen to music or something."

Tyler lifts his head and turns to Josh, eyeing him carefully, as if trying call his bluff.

Josh stands first, offering a smile and a hand to Tyler. "C'mon, my ass is hurting from sitting on this wooden dock. I don't know how you've been here for six hours."

A small grin tugs at Tyler's lips. "I haven't been here the whole time. My car has heating too, y'know."

Josh huffs out a laugh, wiggling his fingers, waiting to help him up.

Tyler takes his hand, pulling himself up from the edge of the dock. Josh takes out the keys from his pocket and leads the way to their parked cars, footsteps loud in the silence of the night. He ducks into the driver's seat and starts the engine, twisting the dial to max heat as Tyler slides into the passenger side.

"Would you like to do the honors of picking our soundtrack for tonight?" Josh asks, holding out his phone.

Tyler stares at it for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm just gonna be playing some sad shit, don't let me choose the music."

"Sad shit is good shit," Josh says, holding his phone out further. "Play whatever your heart desires."

Tyler reluctantly takes his phone and begins filling up the queue. When Josh hears the opening notes of the first song, he's suddenly fifteen again, sitting alone with his back pressed up against a wall, watching other students talk and laugh and walk around campus with their friends. All the things he wished he could do, but had no one to do it with. His eyes widen when he sees A Lack of Color on the dashboard screen.

"Oh, wow," he says. "I haven't heard this song in ages."

A faint smile appears on Tyler's lips as he hands back the phone. "You like Death Cab?"

"Yeah, I mean…" Josh brushes his hair out of his eyes. "I haven't listened to them in a while, but I like 'em."

Tyler's smile widens, eyes transfixed on the darkness outside. "They've been my favorite for years. Ben Gibbard just has a way of writing that's so specific and impactful. I can only hope to be that good one day."

Josh watches his long eyelashes flutter as he blinks, face partially lit up by the screen on the dash. "You write music?"

"Well, not— not really," Tyler says, lowering his gaze. "It's uh… I try on occasion, but… I mostly write poems. Sometimes."

Josh's eyes widen all over again. "That's so cool! I've never been able to write out my thoughts artistically like that."

Tyler laughs softly. "It's pretty therapeutic for me, but only when I can get the right words in the right order. If I can't, it's just frustrating."

"Do you post your writing anywhere at all?"

Tyler shakes his head vigorously. "I think the anxiety of posting it online would eat me alive."

"Understandable." Josh traces the outline of Tyler's side profile with his eyes, from the bridge of his nose down to his lips.

Tyler lays his head back against the seat's headrest. "Maybe one day I'll build up the courage, but definitely not anytime soon."

"What instruments do you play?" Josh asks, momentarily staring at the Adam's apple in his throat, prominent in the dim light.

"Piano, mostly. I've tried guitar, but it hurts trying to form calluses," Tyler responds with a chuckle.

Josh's gaze flicks down to his own hands, realizing he's pressing his fingernails into his thumbs again, lightly scraping them over the hardened skin. "Can't relate. Drumming gives you calluses all around your hands."

Tyler hums softly. "Yeah, I bet. I can't imagine the coordination it takes. When I play piano, sometimes I forget to just lift the sustain pedal. I can't even picture myself in front of a whole drum kit."

Josh shrugs. "It's a learnable skill, like any instrument. Piano, to me, is so… delicate. I can spend hours drumming along to song after song after song, but pressing keys with each finger is too much for me somehow."

Tyler lets out a breathy laugh, the sound reaching every surface inside the car.

Josh admires the dimple in Tyler's cheek before it fades with his smile, the euphonious voice of Ben Gibbard singing this is fact, not fiction, for the first time in years and the heat blasting from the air vents chasing away their last words.

"What music do you listen to?" Tyler asks, turning his head to face Josh.

Josh quickly averts his gaze. "I'm into a lot of eighties new wave stuff. I grew up with that type of music because of my dad, and it just kinda stuck with me. But I'll listen to mostly anything."

"That's like… when synths and stuff became super popular, right? 'New wave'?"

Josh beams. "Yeah, exactly! My dad loves Depeche Mode, so I guess that's partly why it became my favorite too."

As they continue talking, each song in the queue provides a new topic, a new window of opportunity to inquire about each other's lives. Now that he and Tyler are past the initial hurdle of starting a conversation, Josh finds it surprisingly easy to hold the discussion with him. It flows naturally, fluidly, seamlessly. There's rarely been a pause longer than just a few seconds. Josh quickly learns that Tyler understands music in exactly the same way he does, if not more. He's never found that in anyone else before.

The music suddenly pauses as Josh's phone vibrates with an incoming FaceTime call. Looking toward the screen, he sees Debby and Mark's names in the caller ID. "Ah, fuck."

"Oh, shit, I didn't realize it was almost ten," Tyler says, looking down at his own phone.

"It is?" Josh declines the call, and the music continues playing through his car's speakers. Sure enough, the time reads 9:52. He opens his messages and types out a quick text.

 

Debby: Dude
Mark: Dude
Debby: Jinx
Josh: SORRY I'm not home yet
Mark: Your shift ended 2 HOURS AGO
Mark: Where are you??
Josh: I'm with Tyler
Mark: WHAT
Debby: WHAT????
Josh: I'll explain when I get home

 

Josh clicks off his phone and ignores the rapid vibrations with each new text that comes in.

"Your friends calling?" Tyler asks, setting his own device on his lap.

Josh nods. "Not too sure why, considering I saw them last night."

Tyler hunches his shoulders forward, shrinking in on himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean to take away from—"

"No, no, it's fine," Josh interrupts. "It's okay."

Tyler opens his mouth to respond, but suddenly grabs his phone again. He frowns at the screen. "Talk about good timing, I should probably get going anyway. I'm like— never out this late. My mom just texted me asking where the hell I am."

Josh nods, trying not to let any disappointment show on his face.

"This was…. really nice," Tyler says, glancing over at him. "I really needed this today. Thank you."

"No problem." Josh smiles at him. "I'm glad we did this."

Tyler returns the smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Me too." He pops open the passenger side door and steps out.

"Hey, uh…" Josh blurts out.

Tyler bends down to meet Josh's gaze with his hand gripping the edge of the door.

"Text me when you get home?"

"I will." Tyler's eyes crinkle once more as his lips pull back into another grin. "For real this time." The car door shuts with a gentle slam.

Josh watches Tyler round the back of his vehicle and get into his car before sending a quick text to the group chat, letting them know he's heading home. He smiles to himself as he speeds down the mostly-empty freeway, listening to the rest of the songs Tyler queued.

The image of his face is practically seared into Josh's brain. The point of his nose, the arc of his brows, the curl of his eyelashes, the soft line of his jaw, the way he'd light up whenever he realized they had something in common, the way he spoke about song melodies and chord progressions, the way his light, airy laugh bounced off the windows of his car…

Fuck.

He's going to ignore that he was ever thinking about any of that.

After turning into his driveway, Josh kills the engine and hurries inside. He greets his dog Jim with a few pets and checks his work schedule. He and Tyler are both scheduled on Sunday. Two days away. He can wait two days.

Not like he really has a choice.

Josh joins the call with Mark and Debby as soon as he closes the door to his room. Their faces appear in separate boxes, Mark sitting at his desk in front of his computer, and Debby in bed on her laptop.

"There he is!" Debby exclaims.

"Hey, sorry." Josh sets the phone on his bed before stripping off his coat and tossing it onto the stool by his drum kit.

"What the hell happened tonight?" Mark asks.

"Give me a second, damn," Josh laughs, bending down to unzip his boots. "I literally just got home. Let me at least take my shoes off before you bombard me with questions."

"You told me he was all cold towards you last night," Mark continues, ignoring his simple request. "Now you're telling me you spent two hours after work with him? Unplanned?"

Josh walks back over to his bed and scoops up his phone. "One hour, but yes, that is correct," he confirms, sitting down on the edge of his mattress.

"Okay, so…" Debby gestures wildly with her hands, encouraging him to continue speaking. "Spill."

Before Josh can begin telling them about the day's events, a notification appears at the top of his screen. Struggling to suppress his smile, he taps on it. "Hold on, he texted."

"You're texting now?" Mark asks, incredulous. "It's been like, a day. How much have we missed?"

Josh doesn't respond, too focused on reading Tyler's text.

"You're leaving us at the edge of our seats, Josh," Debby teases.

"I know, I know, sorry, let me just…" Josh trails off as he focuses on finding something to respond with.

 

Tyler: hey, i made it home :) thank you again for tonight. you don't know how badly i needed someone with me today. it really means a lot that you took the time to sit and talk with me. seriously, thank you
Josh: Of course! And I'm glad you got home safe :) I could tell you had a tough day and I wanted to be there for you. I meant it when I said I wanted to be friends.
^{Tyler loved a message}

 

"Uh oh," Debby says.

"What?" Josh and Mark ask at the same time.

Debby stifles a laugh. "Mark, are you seeing what I'm seeing on a certain someone's camera?"

Mark snorts. "Jeez, man. 'Uh oh' indeed."

Josh taps the square FaceTime icon, taking him back to the application so he can see what they're seeing for himself. "What the hell are you guys— oh."

His cheeks are pink. He's blushing. He received a simple text from Tyler and he's blushing.

Debby and Mark explode with laughter while Josh covers his face with his hand.

"Oh, fuck," Josh mutters, suddenly thankful for the darkness at the park. God knows what his cheeks were doing when Tyler was in his car.

"Now you need to spill," Debby says.

"Okay, okay," Josh laughs. He inhales deeply, then begins explain everything.

He tells them about walking into work this afternoon and seeing Tyler in the break room with glassy eyes, like he'd just been crying. He tells them about asking Tyler to text him when he got home, but never receiving that text, even after Josh's shift was over. He tells them about Tyler sending him the park location, and how he drove to meet him there. He tells them about how Tyler managed to open up a bit, being sure to exclude personal details that aren't his to share. He concludes with how they sat in Josh's car for an hour, listening to music and talking.

Debby and Mark remain silent the whole time, giving him their full attention.

"He's… he's really, really cool, guys," Josh finishes quietly. "He's so smart. He knows so much about music, about playing instruments, about lyricism, about writing…" He flops onto his back, the mattress bouncing lightly under the movement. Rolling onto his side, he holds his phone in front of his face, still appearing upright on the screen. "I dunno. He's just… cool."

His friends silently stare at him through the screen. Debby's smirking with her chin resting in her hand, and Mark's leaned against the back of his chair, arms crossed in front of him with a knowing look on his face.

Josh buries his face into his comforter and groans. "Don't look at me like that, okay? Please?" he says, voice muffled but still coherent. "I'm not crushing."

Mark scoffs. "Sure, dude."

"I'm not crushing. He's just a cool guy."

"Quick question," Debby cuts in. She clasps her hands in front of her. "How oblivious is Tyler?"

Mark lets out a sharp laugh.

A smile pulls at Josh's lips against his will. "You guys suck. I was way more chill in person."

"How the fuck did all that happen in a day?" Mark asks. "When do you see him next?"

"Sunday."

"Of course you already checked."

Josh rolls his eyes. "You guys suck."

"Already said that," Debby laughs.

"Because it's true!"

Mark leans forward and places his folded arms on his desk. "Do you wanna invite him to hang out with us Sunday night? After work?"

Josh furrows his eyebrows. "Since when were we hanging out Sunday?"

"Since we tried to call you earlier," Mark laughs.

"Oh."

"You down?"

"Obviously."

Debby pumps her arms in the air and cheers. "We get to meet Tyler!"

"Only if he agrees," Josh says.

Debby nods. "I think he will."

"I hope he does."

—

All day yesterday, Tyler's tried to make sense of everything that happened on Friday night by the river. He's gone through his and Josh's short text thread multiple times, just to make sure that it actually happened.

And it did. The texts are still there. Tyler actually spent an hour in Josh's car, talking about music, listening to his all-time favorite band with… a friend? Is Josh a friend now?

He said he wanted to be. Twice. So… they're friends? It's been so long since Tyler made a friend, he's not quite sure if he remembers how to be one.

How was Josh able to describe the exact thing Tyler's been going through so effortlessly? He'd stated it so easily, able to perfectly explain how he felt when the same thing was happening to him. Tyler has always preferred to write around his emotions, never naming them explicitly, but Josh had done it so well. Has Tyler always been that easy to read? Or was Josh just good at reading people?

And the way he was looking at him that night… Tyler should've challenged his gaze more, daring himself to observe Josh the same way Josh was observing him. Not maliciously, just curiously. He should've taken an extra second to notice—really notice—the way he brushed the curls off his forehead, or the way his hoodie strings were tied into a bow, or the way he absentmindedly pressed his fingernails into the pads of his thumbs.

Hm. On second thought, maybe he's glad he didn't take the extra second. That's weird, right? To notice all those things?

But then again, this whole situation has been weird.

Part of him wants to nitpick all the details and try to predict how long Josh will stick around, but the other part doesn't want to even acknowledge the fact that Josh can decide "Just kidding!" at any moment.

Blinking and refocusing his eyes, Tyler looks down at the his hands, still pressing down the piano keys of the last chord he played. He reads the scrawled words in his notebook, trying to remember the last tangible idea he had before his thoughts derailed. Again. After jotting down a couple things to potentially incorporate later, he shuts the notebook, stands from the bench, and climbs the stairs out of the basement.

He changes out of his sweatpants and into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. After tying his shoelaces and pulling on his coat, he grabs his keys and makes his way down the stairs.

"Have a good day at work!" his mother calls from the kitchen as Tyler opens the front door. "And let me know if you're staying out after."

"I will," Tyler says. He shuts the door and walks over to his car, parked by the curb.

Driving into downtown with The Killers' Hot Fuss album blasting from his speakers, the bass is loud enough to rattle his bones. Tyler hasn't felt this awake in forever.

Jess greets him with a smile as he walks through the door. "You're early today."

Tyler laughs lightly, lowering his head. "Just making up for Friday." He steps into the break room, surprised to find Josh sitting sideways in a folding chair, one leg crossed over the other, an arm draped around the back while his other hand holds his phone.

Josh lifts his head, and they lock eyes. His lips stretch into a wide grin. "Hey!"

"Hi." Tyler can't help but smile too, heat creeping up into his cheeks. When he was in Josh's car two nights ago, the darkness acted as a veil, hiding the redness in his face. Now, here, in the record store break room, the lights in the ceiling are way too bright. He's exposed.

Josh either doesn't notice his obvious blushing, or chooses to ignore it. "You're early."

Tyler nods, but he's unsure what to do with the rest of his body. "Yeah, I uh… I came in late Friday and left early, so…" The room is unusually warm. He should probably take his jacket off. "I thought it'd be good to… y'know… get a head start today."

Despite Tyler's useless rambling, Josh's grin widens. He stands and pockets his phone, taking a step closer to Tyler as he shrugs off his coat. "How're you doing?" he asks, his voice so soft and caring that it makes Tyler want to die. "After everything Friday, I mean."

"I'm— I'm good, I'm uh… better, I think," Tyler stammers.

What the fuck is he saying?

Josh's grin widens again, if that were even possible. His gaze travels down Tyler's exposed arms before crawling back up towards his face. "I didn't know you have tattoos."

"Really?" Tyler looks down at his arms, holding them out as if noticing them for the first time too.

"Yeah, you're always wearing hoodies or long sleeves," Josh says, then presses his lips together like the observation wasn't meant to be verbalized. "Makes sense though, it's been pretty cold."

Tyler's smiling way too wide for the conversation they're having. Looking at Josh now, he realizes he's never noticed the subtle freckles dotting his nose and cheeks, or the way the silver rings through each of his nostrils are so… him. He's standing so much closer than usual, and it's so bright in the room that Tyler can see the hints of green in his hazel eyes.

Tyler looks away before his heart gets the chance to beat itself out of his chest. "We should— we should get to work." His feet remain planted.

"We got five minutes," Josh says, slightly tilting his head to the side. "I wanted to ask you something."

Something's changed. The air between them is almost electric, charged with a strange energy that Tyler has never felt before. The longer he stays in this room with Josh, the more certain he is that he's going to collapse onto the dirty tiled floor.

It hasn't even been forty-eight hours since Friday night. They haven't seen each other, or even texted since then. What could've possibly happened in their time apart?

Tyler suddenly wishes he still had his jacket on, just so he could hide his hands in the pockets to fidget. He shoves them into the pockets of his jeans instead. "What's up?"

"I probably should've texted you about it yesterday, so you could think about it," Josh says slowly, as if trying not to trip over his words. He looks down, almost shamefully. "But I got too nervous."

Tyler nearly chokes on his own spit. "Nervous?"

"Yeah, I— I don't really know why. But now I'm kinda realizing that I definitely should've texted, because this is so much harder than sending a text." Josh lets out a small laugh.

Tyler remains silent, completely at a loss for what Josh is getting at.

"Um… my friends coming over to my place tonight. It's my parents' house, but they're fine with it. I'd really love to have you over, but it's completely up to you. No pressure, seriously."

Every single thought in Tyler's brain instantly evaporates, replaced by a singular sentence: Josh is asking me to hang out again. He's being given another chance.

He opens his mouth to respond, but no sound comes out.

Josh bends his arms at the elbows to fiddle with the knuckles in his hands. "You don't have to give me an answer right now. Take some time to think about it, and—"

"Yes," Tyler says, barely audible. He clears his throat. "Yeah, I'd really like that."

Josh's eyes squint as his lips stretch back into a smile. "Yeah? You sure?"

Tyler nods firmly. "I'm sure."

"Alright, cool! I'll let my friends know." Josh pulls out his phone and jabs at the screen with his thumbs. "I know they're excited to meet you."

Tyler's face gets hot all over again. "How much have you told them about me?"

Josh laughs, slipping his device back into his pocket. "Enough for them to be excited to meet you."

Whatever that means. Tyler shakes his head, a massive grin plastered on his face. "Well, tell them I'm excited to meet them too."

"I definitely will," Josh says. "Now we can start work." He turns towards the doorway and steps into the hall.

Tyler trails closely behind, eyes fixed on the same patch sewn into the back of Josh's denim jacket. Red rose silhouette on a plain black background. He makes a mental note to finally figure out or ask what it's from later. Once Jess has assigned their tasks for the day, Tyler gets to work.

Throughout his whole shift, he can't help but occasionally steal glances at Josh. Every time Tyler hears his voice from across the room, his head shoots up to find him. He lets himself stare for a moment, watching how Josh's lips automatically spread into a smile every time he greets a customer.

But it's not the same smile, he's noticed. It's practiced, more polite than anything. Rehearsed. Nothing like the ones in the break room. But it seems genuine enough, and it undoubtedly had Tyler fooled before today.

As he stocks shelves of vinyls and racks of CDs, the reality of meeting Josh's friends hits him harder with each passing hour. He's almost pulled Josh aside multiple times to tell him, "Something came up with my siblings," or "Actually, my mom said I need to be home for dinner," or even just a simple, "I can't." The latter wouldn't be a lie.

By seven, the store is mostly empty, and the bright fluorescent lights are starting to hurt Tyler's eyes. He makes a point not to repeatedly check the time for the remainder of his shift, torn between whether he wants time to pass faster or slower. When the music in the store comes to an abrupt stop at eight, his body surges with adrenaline. He's almost certain Josh can hear his rapid heartbeat in the silence.

"You ready?" Josh asks.

Tyler inhales deeply, attempting to calm his nerves. "I guess."

Eyes trained on the floor as he follows Josh to the break room, he nearly bumps into him in the few seconds it takes to walk there.

Josh turns suddenly, not realizing how close behind Tyler was. "I should probably— oh, hey."

Tyler backs up a couple steps, avoiding his gaze. "Sorry, sorry." He crosses his arms over his chest, shrinking in on himself.

"Tyler," Josh says softly, no doubt sensing the nervous energy radiating off him. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I— I do want to," Tyler says, voice shaky. "I'm just…"

"Scared?"

"Nervous," Tyler corrects him, though scared is infinitely more accurate.

Just three days ago, he turned down Josh out of fear that hanging out with him would come at a price that Tyler wouldn't be able to pay. But now, even after hearing him say that it won't, just the idea of meeting his friends is making him visibly tremble.

"I know it's not easy," Josh says, keeping his voice low. "But my friends are nice, I promise. There's only two of them. And you don't have to stay for super long if you end up hating it and wanting to leave. I understand. And they understand too."

Tyler takes a deep inhale, filling up his lungs with as much air as possible before slowly letting it out. He nods, the movement quick and short.

"You can leave whenever you want, no strings attached."

"Okay." Tyler manages to raise his eyes and meet Josh's, just for a second.

Josh texts Tyler his address as they gather their things, waving goodbye to Jess as they leave the store. Tyler stares at the message as he walks to his car. He waits for the heat to kick in as he studies the directions to Josh's house, about the same distance from the record store to his own home, just in the opposite direction.

Tyler selects his music for the drive, sends a quick text to his mother, and then he's on his way. With his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, he follows the GPS all the way to Josh's house.

He can do this. He can absolutely do this. He's not going to change his mind and turn around, despite every instinct in his body screaming at him to.

With how long he's craved social interaction and connection, he'd be stupid to back out now. He's not going to be stupid twice in four days. That would be a fifty-fifty smart-to-stupid ratio. Not happening.

When he pulls up to the curb, Josh's car is already parked in the driveway. Tyler's heart hammers in his chest, pounding loudly in his ears. He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, then opens the door and steps outside.

The front door opens, and a short, fluffy mass of fur bolts from the house, bounding toward him. Josh runs out a second later. "Jim! Hey! Come here, boy!"

Tyler stumbles backwards a bit, unsure what to do or how to react. The golden retriever begins jumping up on his hind legs, expecting Tyler to catch him.

"Oh my God, Jim. Down!" Josh commands, grabbing his collar.

Tyler continues to back away until all four of the dog's paws are back on the ground.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," Josh apologizes frantically, wrapping his arms around Jim and trying to hold him in place. A difficult task when he's nearly as big as Josh himself. "I didn't realize I never told you I had a dog until like, the second I opened the door. He's sweet, just excited. And thinks he's as small as a fuckin' lap dog or something, Jesus—" Josh grunts as Jim squirms around in his grasp. "Sit, Jim. Calm the fuck down."

Jim does as he's told, his tail still wagging furiously as he plants his butt on the pavement. Josh slowly releases him and scratches the top of his head. "Good boy."

Tyler laughs nervously, bending over and holding a tentative hand out for Jim to sniff. "He's cute." He grimaces as Jim licks his fingers, retracting his hand and wiping it on his pants.

"I'm so sorry," Josh repeats, standing up straight. "You don't have any allergies or anything, right? I should've checked with you before, that's my bad."

Tyler shakes his head. "Not that I know of, just a… small fear?"

"Fuck," Josh exhales, hanging his head for a moment. "Jim, inside."

The golden retriever stands up immediately, his tongue flopping out of his mouth as he prances toward the front door.

Josh lets out a sigh. "Sorry about that."

"It's alright. I'm not super terrified of them, I mostly just don't know what to do when they run at me like that."

"Sorry," Josh says for the fifth time in two minutes.

Tyler smiles. "It's okay, Josh."

Josh turns, leading Tyler up the porch steps. "I'm guessing you don't have any pets?"

"Nah, my parents don't really like animals."

"Bummer." Josh shuts the front door once they're both inside. "Mark and Debby are in my room already, and I'm assuming Jim went back up to them. My siblings are home, but they never bother us. My parents are actually out for the night, so we basically have the house to ourselves for a couple hours."

Tyler looks down at his shoes, suddenly remembering why he's here in the first place.

"You're gonna be okay," Josh says, softening his voice again. "And you can leave at any time. We won't be offended."

Tyler nods. He follows Josh up the stairs and to his room.

When he pushes open the door, the first thing Tyler notices is the electronic drum kit in the corner of the room. A strip of LED lights wrap around the wall right below the ceiling, bathing the entire room in bright blue. Plastic glow in the dark stars are stuck to the ceiling, though barely illuminated. Two people are sitting on the floor in front of the neatly made bed pushed up against the wall, facing a TV at the other end of the room. Jim lays in between the two people and the TV, head raised and wagging his tail again.

Josh steps into the room first, motioning back and forth between his friends and Tyler as he introduces them. "Tyler, this is Mark and Debby. Mark and Debby, Tyler."

The man and woman on the floor, Mark and Debby, respectively, both have brown hair, though Mark's is short and tousled, while Debby's is long and braided down her back. They raise their hands to wave at Tyler, who only bends his arm at the elbow to wave back.

"Nice to meet you," he says, trying to sound casual and not at all terrified. He forces himself to move, being sure to lift up his shoes enough to not trip over the clean line where hardwood turns into carpet.

Josh closes the door behind him. "Feel free to sit anywhere you like. Floor, bed, desk chair, anywhere is fine by me."

Tyler scans the room as Josh tugs off his denim jacket, trying to quickly decide where he can sit and take up the least amount of space. "Um," he squeaks. "Should I take my shoes off?"

"Oh, yeah, just leave 'em by the door." Josh pulls his hoodie over his head, his black T-shirt almost coming up with it before he yanks it down. His arms are exposed now, and Tyler's eyes are immediately pulled toward the tattoo sleeve on his right arm.

Yep. No, yeah, that's great. He's definitely not staring, his cheeks definitely aren't hotter than the surface of the sun, and his knees definitely aren't seconds from giving out underneath him.

Josh had clearly noticed that he's never worn short sleeves at work prior to today, at least not when they're scheduled together, but Tyler had failed to realize that the same had been true for Josh. He should've asked the question back when Josh saw his tattoos earlier at work. Any preparation would've been better than this.

After toeing off his shoes and sliding off his coat as fast as he can, he finds a spot on the floor near the bed and lowers himself onto the carpet before his legs collapse. Josh sits to his left, in between him and Debby, his tattooed arm nearly brushing Tyler's by mere inches. He tears his eyes away and turns toward the TV before he can even think about running his fingers along the dark lines of the tree trunk inked into his skin.

"What're we playing?" Josh asks, watching Mark open Spotify on the screen.

"I was gonna ask you," Mark says, handing him the remote.

Josh takes it and types eight letters into the search bar: violator.

Mark laughs when he gets to L. "I should've known."

"You really should've." Josh presses play, and the first track opens with a rhythmic synth. He lowers the volume until it's quiet enough for background music.

Tyler gazes at the screen, mouth slightly agape as he mentally pieces two and two together. The album cover—a long-stemmed red rose with white highlights against a black background, separated in the middle by the album name in white small cursive—isn't identical to the patch on the back of Josh's jacket, but similar enough to know that's what it is. It's an album. By Depeche Mode, his favorite band.

Tyler really should've known too.

"You know this album?" Debby asks, noticing Tyler's expression.

It takes several seconds for Tyler to realize she's talking to him. He shakes his head. "No, I just… recognize the cover art. From— uh… from the patch on Josh's jacket."

"Ah, right," Debby says, nodding. "He's got so many patches on that thing, I'm surprised you noticed any of them at all."

Tyler doesn't share that his eyes have been drawn to the Violator album cover patch since the first day he saw Josh wearing that denim jacket.

"Oh! That reminds me." Josh practically jumps up and crosses the room to his desk, rummaging through a drawer before returning to his spot on the floor. He holds something out to Tyler, something flat and small and square.

Tyler recognizes the art immediately. A black crow tangled in red string in front of a yellowish-orange background. Death Cab for Cutie's Transatlanticism album cover.

All noises fade away in Tyler's ears, as does the room and everything in it. Lifting his head to look at Josh, he scrambles for something to say, anything that makes just a little bit of sense. All that comes out is a near-silent, "What?"

Josh beams, still holding out the sticker. "It's for you!"

Tyler's gaze jumps back and forth from Josh's hand to his face. "What?" he repeats, only the slightest bit louder.

Josh doesn't laugh at his stuttering or speechlessness, even though all he's trying to give him is a sticker. His eyes soften as he takes Tyler's wrist and places it in his palm. "When you played Death Cab in my car, it must've triggered some subconscious memory or something, because I just remembered its existence yesterday. I know I've had it for years, but I'm not even sure where it came from, honestly. I'm not really a sticker collector, so it's just been sitting in my desk. I want you to have it."

Tyler pushes back the familiar stinging in his eyes. It's just a sticker. He's about to cry over a sticker.

But Josh has unknowingly been holding onto this sticker for years, never giving it away earlier or throwing it in the trash or placing it on anything or even losing it, and now he's handing it to Tyler, someone he really only met two days ago, because he told him Death Cab for Cutie is his favorite band. And he's expected not to burst into tears?

Tyler raises his head, warmth creeping up his neck and settling into his cheeks when their eyes meet. He presses his lips together to prevent his bottom lip from quivering. "Thank you."

Josh smiles at him, warm and bright and kind. "Find a good place to put it."

"I will." Transatlanticism is going smack dab on the front of his writing notebook.

The room and the music from the TV return, along with Mark and Debby, who are both shamelessly smirking at Josh, eyeing him with such intensity that Tyler almost summons the courage to ask what he's told them.

Debby nudges Josh with her arm, causing him to whip around, as if he forgot they were there as well. He glares at her and gives her a playful push. Debby rolls her eyes while Mark fights to suppress his laughter. Tyler pretends not to notice their wordless conversation as he gets up to place the sticker in his jacket pocket.

"So, uh…" he says as he returns, desperate to fill the absence of voices. "What do you guys do for work?"

"I'm a hairdresser!" Debby says, turning her attention back to Tyler like nothing happened.

"Oh, cool!"

"She's literally the only person I'll ever let do my hair. I'll send you her Instagram, you should hit her up for your next haircut," Josh says. "Speaking of which, I probably needs a trim soon, don't you think?" he asks, turning back to face her.

Debby reaches up and runs her fingers through Josh's curls, taking a section and sliding it between her fingers. "Yeah, it's gotten pretty long."

Tyler's chest twists with something he can't quite put a name to. But watching Debby fiddle with Josh's hair like that, even if just to determine how much it's grown, is undoubtedly stirring up something inside him. He shifts his gaze over to Mark before he can let whatever emotion is forming overtake his facial expression. "What about you, Mark?"

"I'm a game developer," Mark says, smiling kindly.

Tyler's eyes widen. "Really? What games have you worked on?"

"Nothing you've heard of, that's for sure," Mark laughs. "I'm the artist of a relatively small indie team. We have a few games out and an ongoing project that we're working on, but it's a slow process."

"He does all the character models and environmental lighting and stuff like that," Josh explains. "It's really cool."

"How long have you worked with Josh?" Debby asks.

"Since November, so…" Tyler quickly counts the months. "Four months."

"You like it there?"

Tyler nods. "Yeah, it's cool! I get to listen to music all day and make money, it's perfect."

Debby laughs lightly. "I think Josh said the exact same thing when he was hired."

Tyler chuckles, wondering how long Josh has been working at the record store. But he doesn't get the chance to ask.

"I want a drink," Josh announces, pausing the music and pushing himself off the floor. "You guys want one? Do you drink, Tyler?"

"Shouldn't you have asked him that before you invited him to a bar on Thursday?" Mark cuts in before Tyler can respond.

"I know, shut up."

Tyler's short answer: yes. The longer answer: yes, but he hasn't had a proper drink since the summer after senior year, when he was invited to his friend's house party to celebrate graduation and his upcoming move for college.

But neither Josh, nor Debby, nor Mark need to know all that, so he just nods his head instead, picking himself up off the floor. "Yeah, sure! Whaddya got?"

"I dunno, whaddya want?"

Tyler shrugs. "Whatever you have."

Josh smiles with a slight shimmer in his eyes. "We should still have a good amount of vodka, my parents aren't huge fans of hard liquor." He pulls open the door and steps into the dark hallway, Tyler following first, Mark and Debby after him, but lagging behind. Jim dodges his way around their legs, taking the lead down the stairs.

"Do you have any RedBulls?" Tyler asks.

"Ooh, vodka RedBull, I like the way you think." Emerging into the kitchen, Josh pulls open the fridge door, scouting around for any silver and blue metal cans. "We do, actually," he says, pulling out two cans and placing them onto the counter.

Tyler grins from the other side, taking a seat on one of the barstools. "Awesome."

Josh opens one of the kitchen cupboards and takes down the bottle of vodka, almost completely full. "Damn, we lucked out."

Mark and Debby finally approach, giggling to each other about something hilarious, apparently.

Josh rolls his eyes. "Stop gossiping and get your asses over here."

Debby quickly rounds the counter and opens the fridge in the same comfortable manner as Josh, taking out a half-filled bottle of cranberry juice. Tyler watches them maneuver around each other with ease, Josh grabbing four cups and a shot glass while Debby fills the cups with ice from the freezer. They work smoothly, efficiently.

Tyler wonders how much time they've spent in his kitchen together, but he's not even sure if he wants to know the answer.

"Vodka cran for you and Mark?" Josh asks, dumping a shot into each glass.

Debby nods. "Yeah, unless Mark wants something else."

All three pairs of eyes turn to Mark, who has parked himself on the barstool next to Tyler.

He glances up from his phone and laughs. "The way all of you looked at me was so scary, don't ever do that again," he says, earning cackles from Josh and Debby, and even a chuckle from Tyler. "But yes, that's fine."

"Apologies in advance," Josh says, giving Debby a playful side eye. "These drinks won't be as good as Jenna's."

Debby's jaw drops in mock offense while Mark lets out an amused wheeze.

"Jenna's a bartender at the bar we go to," Mark tells Tyler after noticing his puzzled expression. "Debby has a huge crush on her."

"I do not," Debby protests, glaring at him.

Josh's movements stall as he raises an eyebrow at her.

Debby's cheeks turn pink in an instant. She buries her face into the sleeves of her brown hoodie to hide the massive smile forming on her lips. "Yes I do."

Josh and Mark continue to laugh and tease Debby while Tyler bears a wide grin. He shoves down every thought trying to remind him that there's a high potential for all of this to never happen again. Right now, he's trying his best to enjoy the company.

After Josh hands out the glasses, he begins leading everyone back to his room, taking both the bottle of vodka and cranberry juice with him. He calls for Jim, who stands from his dog bed in the living room and runs up the stairs.

Josh restarts the track they paused on, nodding his head to the beat. They all settle into the same spot on the floor, except for Jim, who flops down right next to Tyler, laying his head on his thigh.

"Aww, he likes you," Josh coos. "You can scratch right behind his ears if you want, he loves that."

Tyler smiles down at Jim, using his fingernails to give him some head scratches like Josh suggested.

As the night progresses, one drink turns into two, which soon turns into three. Before he knows it, Tyler has spent two hours at Josh's house, and has no intention of leaving anytime soon. Not that he really could, with how badly his vision is spinning.

Three shots on an empty stomach probably wasn't the best idea, but whatever. He's having fun.

The conversation has been going well, and Tyler's found himself able to participate more with the alcohol taking the edge off of his anxiety. He doesn't have a clue what they're laughing at when he feels a vibration from his phone in his back pocket. "Oh, God," he says, staring at the screen. "My mom texted, someone help me sound sober."

Josh giggles and leans over, his cheek nearly brushing Tyler's shoulder. "What'd she say?"

"She asked when I'm coming home." Tyler turns the screen around to show him.

Debby lets out an annoyed groan. "You're twenty-three, why does she even care if you're drinking?"

"Because unfortunately, I still live under her roof," Tyler says. "I'm just glad she doesn't give me a curfew anymore." He taps on the message and unlocks his phone. All the letters swirl together on the screen. "I can't do this," he laughs.

"Gimme," Josh says, holding out his hand. Tyler places his device in his palm, watching him read his mom's message on the screen. "Just tell her the truth, be honest."

"Dude, she's gonna ask so many questions," Tyler complains, leaning backwards to lie on the floor. The glow in the dark stars dance across the ceiling with every blink. "I don't have a single friend for five years, and all of a sudden I'm coming home two hours late from work and then getting drunk at someone's house?"

"Would she be more upset if you drove home drunk or spent the night here?" Josh asks. "Genuine question."

Tyler lifts his head, staring at him in complete shock. "You want me to spend the night?"

Josh shrugs. "Technically, it is the safest option. You are not driving home anytime soon."

Tyler lays his head back down and sighs. He reaches out a hand, and Josh pulls him upright with surprising strength. "I'll see what she says."

Josh returns his phone and waits patiently as Tyler quadruple checks his text for any typos before sending it.

He lets out a sharp laugh at her response. "She said, 'I hope you're being safe,' with a period. I am so fucked when I get home."

Mark waves his hand dismissively. "Tomorrow's issue."

"Exactly." Debby nods in agreement.

Tyler clicks off his phone and tosses it to the side. "I haven't gotten a lecture about 'making good decisions' since the last time she caught me sneaking out in high school."

A faint smirk pulls at Josh's lips. "Now, what were you doing sneaking out?"

Tyler scoffs. "Going to parties, what else?"

"Oh, so you were a party guy?" Josh asks, lowering his voice.

A lazy grin forms on Tyler's lips. "Yeah, I had a friend who was either always throwing one, or always knew someone who was. But he'd always get the cheapest fuckin' vodka out there. Tasted like absolute ass going down, was even worse coming back up." He cringes at the memory. "I think we were just happy to have something to get drunk off of. I know I don't seem like the party type now, but trust me. I definitely was."

Josh's eyes glimmer with mischief. "I didn't know you were such a rebellious teenager."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me."

"Well, I'd love to find out more," he says, leaning in a little closer.

"Yeah? What do you wanna know?"

"Should we leave?" Debby loudly interrupts. Mark wheezes hard beside her. "Are we interrupting something? Do you want some privacy? Cause we'll leave if you two wanna keep flirting."

Josh clamps his mouth shut and backs away, face visibly flush, even in the darkness. Tyler's certain his face is also bright red, judging by how the warmth in his cheeks has spread to the tips of his ears.

Mark and Debby continue to tease Josh, who turns toward them and denies that they heard a single thing. Tyler remains silent, eyes glued to him, unable to take in anything they're saying after that. His brain keeps replaying the way he was looking at him.

Blinking slowly, his gaze travels downwards, landing on the arc of his nose, his lips, his chin, his neck, his broad shoulders, his tattooed arm, before following the veins in his hands. Then he makes his way back up again. Tyler's thoughts drift back to when he first arrived in Josh's room, the way his shirt rode up as he pulled his hoodie over his head. Half of his back had been exposed, along with a strip of his midriff. If only Tyler could just slip his hands under the cotton, run his fingers along his skin, find his waist and pull him closer.

God, he's drunk. He's so drunk.

He wouldn't have these thoughts while sober, right? He's just been so lonely, and Josh is so pretty, and he's only thinking about any of that because he's the only person Tyler has felt this comfortable around, maybe ever, and also because he's drunk.

This is the alcohol's fault. The vodka in his system is to blame for his willingness to put aside every fear he has about the inevitability of isolation. He's not thinking about any of that. The only thoughts running through his head right now is how nice it would feel to have Josh's teeth digging into his neck.

"Tyler is not in the room with us right now," Mark laughs.

Josh turns toward him, concern creasing his forehead. "You okay?"

Tyler snaps himself out of his daze. "Yeah, yeah, sorry. Zoned out. Haven't eaten since like, one, I think, so those drinks are hitting pretty hard right now."

Josh's eyes widen in a silent panic. He pulls out his phone and checks the time. "That was like— that was almost ten hours ago! Oh my God, I'm getting you some food," he says, pushing himself off the floor.

"Hey, how long has it been for you?" Tyler asks.

Josh holds his hands up defensively. "I had a snack before you got here, okay?"

"That's it? Just a snack?"

"Better than nothing for ten hours—"

"Shut up, both of you need to eat," Mark cuts in.

"Bickering like a married couple," Debby mutters to Mark, loud enough for both Tyler and Josh to hear.

Josh rolls his eyes and turns toward the door. "I'll be back."

"Hold up," Tyler says, getting onto his feet, stumbling a little when the room tilts under him.

Josh reaches out and steadies him with a hand on his arm. "Whoa, you good?"

"I'm good, I'm good," Tyler giggles. "Where's your bathroom?"

"End of the hall, last door on the right," Josh says, pointing out the directions. "But maybe I should walk you there in case you fall and knock yourself out or something."

"That'd be nice," Tyler admits with a chuckle.

Trailing behind Josh, they pass door after door until they reach the open one at the end of the hall. Tyler steps inside and finds the light switch, momentarily blinding himself from how bright the bulbs above the mirror are.

"Jeez," he hisses, shielding his eyes. "Why are these light bulbs fifty thousand fuckin' lumens?"

Josh laughs behind him. "Sorry, I should've warned you."

Tyler turns around once his eyes adjust. With the bathroom light on, he can finally see the freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks again. "You're forgetting a lot of things today," he teases, keeping his voice low.

Josh folds his arms over his chest and leans his shoulder against the doorway. "Clearly, I've been a bit distracted."

Tyler copies his actions, resting a hand on the counter to his left. "Distracted by what, exactly?"

"Well, you see, there's this cute boy I've wanted to talk to for months, and I finally just became friends with him."

Tyler smirks. "Yeah? What's so cute about this boy?"

"Y'know, his fluffy hair, cool tattoos, pretty brown eyes, the way he smiles, the way he laughs… things like that."

Tyler ignores the way his cheeks start to burn.

"He also has a really good taste in music, and he got all quiet and emotional when I gave him a Transatlanticism album cover sticker."

Tyler rolls his eyes, not bothering to fight the smile forming on his face. "He sounds like a loser."

Josh lets out another laugh, softer this time. "He's not, though. Far from it. Isn't that crazy?"

Tyler shakes his head, faking disappointment.

Josh's smile fades. "But… I'm also worried." His words come out even quieter.

"About him?"

"About the fact that I only started talking to him two days ago, and I already might like him more than just a friend."

Tyler takes a slow step forward, shortening the distance between them. "How do you know this boy doesn't also like you more than just a friend?"

"I—" Josh hesitates, darting his eyes around before working up the courage to settle on Tyler's face. "I don't even know if this boy likes other boys."

Tyler stares at him for a moment, frozen in place. If the world ends right now, he will have died without ever knowing the feeling of Josh's lips on his. And though there's no reason to believe it will, he can't be certain that it won't. If he doesn't kiss Josh right this second, his world will implode long before he gets another chance.

Surging forward, Tyler's lips crash into Josh's with enough force to make him stagger backwards. Josh regains his footing and pushes him further into the bathroom, backing him up against the counter before blindly closing the door beside them. Tyler pulls him in by the back of his neck, burying his hands in his hair while Josh presses up against him, grabbing at his shirt by his waist, tugging him closer.

Tyler savors every second, every touch, every little sound that escapes from Josh, not quite a moan, but louder than just an exhale. The electricity that surrounds them is more intoxicating than anything he can pour into a drink.

Teeth and tongue isn't satiating enough. Tyler needs more. But not here, in Josh's bathroom while his friends and siblings are in the rooms over, separated by walls that could be paper thin. So he pulls away instead, keeping his eyes shut as their heavy breaths begin to ease. He continues to run his hands through Josh's hair, letting the soft curls slide between his fingers.

"Does that answer your question?" Tyler asks, slowly lifting his eyelids.

Josh playfully hums in thought, still gripping his waist. "I dunno, I'm not really sure if—"

Tyler leans in and kisses him again, just to shut him up. But whereas the one before was frantic and hungry, this one is gentle. Slow and tender.

Josh smiles when they part, wider than Tyler's ever seen. "I've been wanting to kiss you all night."

"Yeah?"

He nods, widening his eyes for emphasis. "All fucking night. You're cute when you're drunk."

Tyler's lips part into a sly grin. "So that's why you came with me to the bathroom."

"No, you genuinely looked like you were gonna topple over," Josh says with a giggle, dropping his hands from Tyler's waist. "I'll go get those snacks now." He swiftly opens the door and shuts it behind him as he steps out into the hallway.

Tyler stares at the closed door for a moment, then turns to look at himself in the mirror. Did that really just happen? Did he really just do that?

He kissed Josh. He just kissed the new friend he made two days ago in the bathroom of his parents' house after three drinks. He's insane. Batshit crazy. He wants to do it again.

When he returns, Tyler laughs as he processes the sight in front of him—Josh, holding a plate filled with pizza rolls a whole arm's length away, and Debby securing Jim in place while Mark attempts to call him over.

The golden retriever plops onto the ground, but otherwise doesn't budge. His tongue hangs out of his smile as he pants, prepared to lunge at any food that gets dropped onto the floor.

"Sorry, bud, this isn't for you," Josh says, giving his head a few pats before turning toward Tyler and handing out the plate to him. "Didn't know what you wanted, figured we could share these pizza rolls."

Tyler avoids his eyes as he takes the plate, afraid that even one split-second glance will leave him with no choice but to kiss him again. The white porcelain is still warm from the microwave. "Thank you."

Josh beams at him. "Be warned, Jim's gonna park himself right next to us and will try and sneak a bite if you're not careful."

"He stole a fry off my plate one time," Mark tells Tyler, running his hand along Jim's back. "I was gone for literally two minutes."

"He's so cute, I dunno how you don't just feed him whatever he wants," Tyler says, mattress sinking under his weight as he sits next to Josh on the bed.

Josh laughs. "It's tough, trust me."

Jim's round, dark eyes flick back and forth between Tyler's face and the plate he's holding. As if to make a point, Tyler tosses a pizza roll into his mouth while staring him down.

"Mark." Josh grabs the remote off the floor and hands it to him. "You wanna find something for us to watch on YouTube?"

"Why me?"

"'Cause I'm tired and I don't feel like making decisions," Josh says, taking a roll from the plate and biting into it.

Mark shrugs. "Fair enough."

The video he chooses ends up being a forty minute long cat compilation. Jim loses interest in the food once he realizes Tyler isn't going to feed him, curling up on the floor in front of Mark and Debby. Josh motions for Tyler to join him further up on the bed once they're done eating, grabbing two pillows by the headboard and placing them against the wall.

Tyler sets the empty plate off to the side and leans back into the pillows. A minute passes before he feels Josh snaking his arm behind his shoulders. Tyler adjusts his position as Josh tugs him closer, laying his head on his chest. His eyes remain glued to the TV, even though he's too focused on listening to Josh's heartbeat to watch a single thing on the screen.

With the soft thumping in his ear, it doesn't take long for his eyelids to start drooping. After Josh begins running his fingers through his hair, he's out completely.

A few gentle shakes slowly wake him up. "Ty," Josh whispers.

Tyler blinks rapidly as he gradually opens his eyes, but doesn't move. His arm has somehow draped itself across Josh's torso while he was asleep.

"Tyler," Josh says, almost singsong-like.

His body is so warm. Tyler could lay here until the end of time, nestled in his embrace, tucked into his warmth. But Josh keeps nudging him, so he reluctantly lifts his head. Mark, Debby, and Jim have all disappeared from the floor. The TV across the room has gone dark. Tyler looks over at Josh, who smiles at him.

"There you are."

"Sorry," Tyler mumbles, rubbing his eyes. "Tired."

"No, it's okay," Josh says. "Debby and Mark are leaving in a sec, but I didn't wanna just push you off of me."

"Oh, they're not staying?" Tyler asks.

"They thought about it, but they both have work tomorrow, so they're gonna head home."

"Oh."

The mattress shifts under them as Josh climbs out of bed. "Did you have fun tonight?"

Tyler nods. "Yeah, this was fun. Your friends are cool."

Josh lets out a soft chuckle. "I'm glad you agree." He nods toward the door. "We should go say bye."

Tyler pushes himself to the edge of the bed and stands, then follows Josh down to the front door. He stands awkwardly to the side as they all take turns hugging and giving Jim goodbye pets.

"Drive safe, alright? Text me when you get home," Josh tells them as he opens the door.

The outside air makes Tyler shiver. He crosses his arms over his chest and backs up towards the stairs.

"Bye, Tyler! Nice meeting you," Debby says, Mark echoing her sentiment.

"Nice meeting you too!" Tyler waves as Mark and Debby step down from the porch.

Josh doesn't shut the door until they've both made it to their cars. He flips the lock, then turns to face Tyler. "Just us now."

Tyler huffs out a nervous laugh. "Just us."

"How're you feeling? You sure you wanna stay?"

Tyler performs a quick mental assessment of his body. The room isn't tilting nearly as much as before, and focusing his vision takes considerably less effort. "I'm… better, but it's your house. Are you sure you want me to stay?"

"Yeah," Josh says. "I want you to stay."

Tyler's lips curl into a smile. "Then I'll stay."

"In that case, let me find a pair of sweatpants for you." Each step creaks under Josh's weight as he starts to make his way back up.

Tyler's feet remain planted. "What? No, it's— I'm fine wearing this."

Josh just laughs. "I mean, you don't have to take 'em, but let me at least give you the option. Can't be comfortable sleeping in jeans."

Tyler forces himself to move, wordlessly following him back to his room. It wouldn't be the first time he's slept in jeans the whole night. He would've gladly done it again, but changing into something softer and looser and Josh's sounds so much better.

Walking down the hall, Josh points to a closed door as they pass by. "Parents' room, by the way," he whispers. "Just so you know."

Tyler gives him a thumbs up in response.

Josh's door shuts behind them with a soft click. "They came home when you were asleep, but they know I had friends over and that one of them is spending the night, so they won't bother us."

"Your parents seem really nice," Tyler says.

Josh runs a hand through his hair, his energy shifting slightly. "Yeah, they are. I think… they're mostly happy that I'm not spending so much time alone anymore." He smiles, but his eyes hold a certain weight that wasn't there just moments ago.

Tyler refrains from asking any questions, backpedaling into an apology instead. "Sorry, I didn't mean to like— make any assumptions about—"

"No, no, it's all good. I made it weird," Josh says, shaking his head. "Sorry."

Tyler stands there, arms limp at his sides, unsure what to do or say.

But Josh manages a quicker recovery, pivoting toward his dresser. "Anyway, let me get you those sweats."

Tyler nods again, despite the fact that Josh isn't facing him anymore. He watches him pull open a drawer and take out a pair of gray sweatpants. By the time he turns back around, it's as if the past thirty seconds never happened. Holding out the folded cotton fabric, the way Josh smiles at Tyler makes him want to either start sobbing or start making out with him.

Maybe both. At the same time.

Josh's smile widens at Tyler's silence. "What?"

Tyler quickly averts his gaze before more heat can accumulate in his cheeks. "Nothing." He takes the sweats in his hands.

Josh steps towards the door, placing his hand over the knob. "I'll go wash up so you can get changed. And I'll leave a spare toothbrush by the sink for you too."

Tyler's heart swells at how nice Josh is treating him. "Thank you."

"Don't even mention it." Josh swings open the door and leaves the room.

Tyler changes into the sweatpants and folds his jeans, setting them by his jacket and shoes on the floor. Checking his phone for any messages from his mom, he finally realizes it's past midnight. She's likely already gone to sleep.

Returning to the room after trading places, Tyler finds that Josh has set up a soft mat on the floor in between his bed and the TV, complete with a throw blanket and a pillow. He's even plugged an extra cord into the outlet for Tyler to charge his phone. The LED lights have been turned off, the room now solely illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table.

"Well, that looks cozy," Tyler says, shutting the door behind him.

Josh glances up at him from where he's seated on his bed, one leg bent underneath him, and the other dangling over the side. He's also changed into a pair of sweats and a different black shirt with white text on the front, spelling out Curætion-25. "I'll admit, it's not the most comfortable, but it's better than just sleeping on the carpet."

Tyler walks over and sits on the makeshift floor bed. He nods, satisfied. "It'll do."

"I mean, if you wanna be picky, you could just…" Josh trails off, staring down at his phone, even though the screen is off.

Tyler raises an eyebrow. "Could just… what?"

"Share my bed," Josh says quickly, the phrase strung together like it's one word instead of three.

Tyler's breath catches in his throat. He pauses, trying to figure out how to remind his body to function normally again. "Do you want me to?"

"I want to do whatever you're comfortable with." Josh begins fiddling with the knuckles in his fingers, folding them over until they pop. "But I do kinda want you to be picky," he adds quietly.

"Are we even gonna fit?" Tyler asks, though he's already grabbing the pillow and standing back up.

Josh moves toward the wall to make room as soon as he realizes Tyler is agreeing to his proposal. "Might be a bit tight, but we'll see, I guess."

Tyler places the pillow against the headboard and slides into the bed, pulling Josh's comforter up to his chest as he lays down on his back. "I sure hope you meant it when you said your parents don't bother you when you have friends over," he says. "I think this would be a bit difficult to explain to them."

Josh lets out a giggle, laying on his side with his back to the wall. "You're telling me friends don't willingly share beds after two days of knowing each other?"

Tyler snorts. "Maybe when they're like, ten years old, but not at twenty-three."

At that, Josh laughs hard. Way too hard for what Tyler just said. "Lucky for you, they have work early in the morning and we don't, so we're safe."

"Thank God for that."

The room settles into silence as both of them lay motionless, Josh staring at Tyler, who's staring up at the stars on the ceiling. They're almost reminiscent of the the freckles on Josh's cheeks.

"When did you start working at the record store?" Tyler asks.

"Few years ago," Josh says. "Jess hired me about two years after I graduated high school, I think."

Tyler hums in response. "You like it there?"

"Yeah, I mean… I probably wouldn't work there for the rest of my life or anything, but building up savings while still living at home and trying to figure out the rest of my life is nice."

Tyler doesn't think about how close their faces would be when he turns his head until he's already doing it. But Josh doesn't comment on it or back away, so neither does he. "You mean you don't know?"

"Nope. Not a clue."

"You never tried college?"

"Nah." Josh shifts his gaze, locking onto something behind Tyler's head. "I didn't really have any plan after high school." He pauses, then inhales deeply. "Y'know how on Friday at the river, I was explaining my past experience to give you something to relate to?"

Tyler nods.

"That 'past experience' was in high school for me."

Tyler exhales slowly. "Oh."

"It was really hard for me to make friends as a teenager," Josh explains, eyes flitting around his room now. "I just… stopped trying, eventually. Thought everyone hated me, so I hated everyone back."

Tyler fully turns onto his side to let him know he's listening, taking in every single one of his words.

"I didn't plan for my future at all. No college lined up, no job. I didn't see the point. And that strained my relationship with my parents a lot."

A hint of guilt twists in Tyler's chest as he wonders if Josh is only telling him all this because of the comment he made earlier. But he shoves it away and nods again, trying to silently communicate with his facial expression that he gets it. He understands. The same thing happened with his own parents.

"When I met Debby and Mark, it was so hard for me to open up. But once I realized how similar they were to me, it was a lot easier," Josh continues. "Not even similar in terms of hobbies or interests, I don't know the first thing about video games or cutting hair. I mean similar in a 'they also didn't know what to do with their life' way."

"Really?"

Josh nods. "I met Mark right after he changed his major. Debby started the process of dropping out and applying to cosmetology school a year later. They were the ones who convinced me to find a job, any job, just to have something to do."

Tyler pieces the information together. "That's how you ended up at the record store."

Josh smiles, hazel irises settling back on Tyler's brown ones. "Yeah. I'm so glad I found something that I like. Some people aren't so lucky."

"I know Jess is going to be so sad whenever you decide to put in your two weeks," Tyler says. "You're so good at your job. It's going to be hard to find a replacement for you."

Josh lets out a chuckle. "She'll be fine, she has you."

"Yeah, someone who has a panic attack because of a group of teenagers," Tyler deadpans.

"Is that what happened Friday?"

Tyler sighs heavily. "Yeah. They got annoyed with me because I couldn't find a certain record, and that on top of the bad day I was having just… sent me over the edge."

"Teenagers are scary, man."

"Okay, Gerard Way," Tyler teases.

Josh laughs, but doesn't say anything else. The energy between them sobers with each second that ticks by.

"My high school friends always knew what they wanted to do when they grew up," Tyler says, redirecting their conversation back to its former topic. "At least, that's what it seemed like. That's what they said."

Josh remains silent, urging him to continue.

"It just… it's nice to know that not everyone has it figured out. Because that's not what I was surrounded by as a kid."

Josh nods slowly. "I'm sure your friends all going in different directions didn't help."

"Absolutely not," Tyler says with a humorless laugh.

He recalls the moment each of his friends delivered the news of which schools they'd been accepted into. At the time, he was truly, genuinely happy for them. He expected it to be easy to stay in touch; it was never an issue during the summer. But three months of summer break is completely different than four years of college. Once there wasn't anything forcing them into proximity, the emotional distance grew, along with the physical one. Five years later, and somehow, the wound is still fresh.

Tyler's vision becomes warped and blurry as his eyes fill with tears.

Josh notices immediately, reaching over and placing a palm on his cheek. "Hey…"

"It hurts like it happened yesterday," Tyler says, voice breaking. "The only times they'd talk to me was when they wanted to vent about something, brag about something, or needed emotional support. And I just let it happen. I kept checking in and texting first because I know they needed someone to listen. I was always good at listening. Maybe the only thing I'm good at."

The words are tumbling out of him. Years and years of suppression has built itself up into a mountain, and everything is finally being released in an avalanche of words and tears and tremors that rattle through his entire body.

Josh wipes away a tear that slips from the corner of Tyler's eye and rolls over the bridge of his nose.

Tyler should shut his mouth. He should get out of Josh's bed, drive home, and stop loading the gun that he's going to get shot with later on. But he's already said too much. The gun is aimed at his chest, soldered to Josh's hand. Tyler has no control over whether he decides to pull the trigger.

"I'm— I'm scared," Tyler breathes. "I'm so scared."

Josh caresses the soft skin of his cheek with his thumb. "I know."

He knows what Tyler's afraid of without needing him to say it. Josh knows because he's been in his exact position.

Tyler wants to trust that he won't leave. He wants to reassure himself with the fact that Josh would never cause him the same pain his past friends did, because he knows the despair, the anger, the confusion, the excruciating sadness that comes with the aftermath. He wants to let himself fall freely, without any doubts or hesitation.

So he takes the plunge. Before he can think twice, he dives in head-first, wrapping his arms around Josh, burying his face into his shirt, clinging to him like he's a life preserver. Like letting go would mean losing him forever. Josh gently strokes his hair, hugging his shaking body with a strength that overpowers Tyler's definitively.

For the first time in years, Tyler lets himself believe that this might last. He lets himself believe that the way Josh has latched onto him might mean he's staying, instead of fully denying the possibility. He lets himself believe he's taken a step toward relearning how to trust.

"I'm right here," Josh whispers into his ear.

Maybe he won't leave.

And as terrifying as it is to hold onto something as unpredictable as maybe, it's better than never holding onto anything at all. Maybe will let him fall freely. Maybe gives him the opportunity to change the way he thinks about uncertainty.

As Tyler slowly releases his grasp, Josh immediately dries the tears his shoulder wasn't able to catch. Locking eyes, he decides that especially with someone like Josh, maybe is a chance he's more than willing to take.

Josh senses the shift. He smiles, eyes squinting in the way Tyler adores. Their lips are connected in an instant, pressing with delicacy as Josh gently pulls him forward by the back of his neck. Tyler deepens the kiss, lets it linger, and chases after it again.

Josh is still smiling by the time they separate. "I will always be here."

Maybe Tyler believes him.

Notes:

this ended up being so much longer than i thought it would but it was so much fun and i'm so glad i decided to participate :) "cynical" was a difficult prompt for me but i loved the challenge and writing this over the past 2 months lowkey helped me work through some shit lmao

once again thank you so much kenton and milo for hosting this collab!!

twt: @_rawfear / tumblr: poisonedprogress