Work Text:
It’s been a long time.
Not to say Tyler’s out of practice, or anything, but…it’s just been a long time. That’s all.
Soft hands and stolen glances are so foreign. So foreign they feel wrong. Tyler doesn’t think he deserves this feeling or these experiences. There’s something deep in the pit of his stomach that tells him it won’t last. It’s not worth it to even try. But he still does, no matter how much it hurts him.
Josh is beautiful. Every part of him. The way he dyes his hair and lets his friends hang silly things from his gauged ears. When the light reflects off of his nose rings and Tyler’s blinded by more than just the shine. He’ll be mourning this for the rest of his life.
He feels insignificant next to it all. The colors painted over Josh’s body. The muscles that ripple under his skin, but are never used for the violence so many others do.
Tyler’s tattoos are plain. And simple. And all black. He has no piercings. No dyed hair-at least, not since he turned pink in college and immediately regretted it with a bottle of bleach and panic in his chest.
He’s…boring, maybe. Not the same. Not as exciting or interesting. Josh skateboards. He likes cats and eats sushi and goes to gay bars with his friends. He plays the drums. Loud, and boisterous and full of something Tyler could never fully wrap his hands around.
He’s fitted for piano, and soft vocals he murmurs during church. Vocals he uses as extra prayers to fix whatever’s wrong with him. Different people tell him different things. Maybe he’s going to Hell, maybe he’s just human. Everyone goes somewhere, right? There has to be a final destination for him and the soul dragging him along through the days.
Josh’s sturdy hands hold his on the beach. Tyler’s always hated the beach. Too much sand, and not enough love. It’s sunset now. Red, like the fire licking the ends of Josh’s hair.
“What’re you thinking about?” He dares to ask.
Tyler tries to laugh, but it gets stuck in his throat. He’s never been good at nonchalance. It’s not a natural thing that comes to him like how it does Josh. He’s perfectly awkward. Anxious, but still sturdy enough to make it through every day without the passive suicidal ideation that follows Tyler in the form of his own head.
How long is he going to let this happen? Before he runs away again, ducks into his safe haven of loneliness and isolates until he gets brave to dip a toe into the dating world again.
He looks at his reflection in Josh’s sunglasses. The sunglasses that are now being tipped up onto his forehead. He cocks his head like a dog. Like the dog he has at home named Jim. Golden retriever. Happy, jumping, fun. Fun. Tyler doesn’t like dogs. Tyler likes Jim. Somehow.
“Hey.” Josh’s eyes soften. It’s not so funny anymore. Nothing ever is with Tyler. He’s always been the one to ruin these types of things. Too serious, too morbid, too…realistic.
Josh’s thumb rubs over Tyler’s hand. “What’s going on?”
Tyler sees it in the way Josh searches his face. The deserving look of a man in love. Infatuated and intrigued by what he’s studying, instead of disgusted. It’s rare. Tyler is no longer lost in this maze.
He makes a horrible decision.
“I am so, terribly, horribly in love with you,” Tyler whispers. “I’m sorry.”
It hurts him. Deep inside his chest, he knows it’s not worth it to do this again. Trying his hand at love once more. Falling so hard he could barely catch himself before he hit the ground. He knows there are two options to this. Josh loves him, or Josh leaves him. Either, really, he’d be fine with. He almost wants the latter to happen. It’s more familiar, the pain of loneliness and rejection. He can crawl back into himself and remember that he can try again later. Later.
And then Josh laughs at him.
But it hurts for just a second. Only one. The ocean is screaming at them. Why is it so loud all of a sudden?
“Tyler,” he says, shaking his head, “why are you sorry?”
And, well, he doesn’t really know. He’s never gotten this far.
“I don’t know,” he says, echoing his brainless brain. I don’t know.
Most people hate that answer. They reject it immediately because no, you must know something. You’re lying to help yourself. You’re selfish.
Josh thinks about it instead. Tyler thinks he might throw up. The ocean cries for him to sink into it and never come back up. Wrapped in seaweed and blue like the waves. He’s thought about it a few times. He can hear the water in his ears. Like a seashell he’d held up to his head as a child, as nostalgic as the first time he held a razor blade in his palm and as sickening as the blood that followed the grooves of the drain thereafter.
Josh squeezes his hand. This is their beach. Just theirs. No one else is here, because they know Tyler’s here, and no one wants to witness rejection. It’s embarrassing, even if they’re not the participants.
Rejection is embarrassing. Tyler is embarrassing. Every fucking day of his life is spent rethinking and overthinking what he could’ve done to make something better. He can pretend all he wants, but nothing can cover up the fact that he’s miserable.
People can see that sort of thing. Animals can see that sort of thing. Jim pays extra attention to him, licks his hand and weaves between his legs like it’s second nature. Tyler wonders if he’s told Josh all of his secrets. Tyler is embarrassed. Tyler is embarrassing. He wonders if Josh knows this. Maybe he’s a charity case. It’ll turn to pity-fucking and unread text messages.
Tyler will bleed in his bathroom and know he’s once again shown his most private parts to someone that took them and ran.
“Can I kiss you?” Josh asks. Gently, in the dusk.
Tyler bursts into tears.