TRIGGER WARNINGS:

- Death mentions/celebration of life
- Mentions of struggling with sexuality

***

Josh knew this day wouldn't be easy. He has had months to cope with it, consider what he would say, let everything out before he arrived, yet he's still just as heartbroken as the day it happened. It's fine, maybe. Dreadful, yeah. But, once he parks his car and stares up at the church, he considers he can go one more day without completely falling apart.

That's what he tells himself.

Walking up to the entrance, he smiles in a terse manner when seeing his father. Bill pulls him into a hug without much thought. They breathe each other in, because really, it seems like they are all the two of them have anymore, and once they break apart, Bill looks at him, up and down, taking his appearance into account.

He never really does get used to it.

The gauges, the lip ring, the nose piercings. Or the clothes which lean a little bit more onto a less-masculine side, slightly. Sometimes.

It's not ever overbearing. Right now he's wearing a black turtleneck and some ripped jeans in the same color, along with a trench coat.

It's sprinkling, though.

He gets cold easily.

Bill may not agree with all of it, but he never has actually said much about Josh's appearance. Besides, Josh only ever had his ears pierced when living under his parent's roof. Now that he's an adult, lives in his own home, pays for his own things, he can do whatever he wants, and if that just so happens to be putting multiple holes in his face, so what?

When he first got his lip pierced, instead of Bill expressing his dislike towards it, it was simply, did someone catch you fishing?

Josh only smiled.

He felt good. It didn't matter.

The nose rings weren't as bad. When Bill came over and saw, he hummed, nodding his head, dismissing it.

Josh started stretching his ears as soon as he moved out, too. It was something he always wanted to do, always enjoyed the thought of, and he told himself he wouldn't go too overboard. And, he didn't. He doesn't think so, at least.

Now Bill deals with it. Josh wouldn't say he exactly accepts it or likes the way it looks, but he also knows Josh is his own person, and honestly, it simply comes down to what makes him happy.

He's a good dad.

He is.

He's more so afraid of what others will think or say to his son that makes him a little weary about the whole thing.

It's fine, though. It's always fine.

Bill meets his eyes again. "Go find a seat. We should be starting soon."

Josh nods, about to walk away, yet he sees past the demeanor being put up in front of him. "How're you holding up?"

Bill blinks.

"Go find a seat." Is all he says.

Josh can't be surprised. The two of them are both terrible at expressing their emotions most times, especially to eachother, and so with that, he walks inside, deciding it's best to be left alone. It's a hard day. One they thought wouldn't have come for another few years. Things happen, unexpected. Terrible, scary things happen.

Josh knows the only choice is to keep on pushing.

It's hard. Anything that's worth it is hard, and that's all that ever keeps him going anymore.

Sure, he has friends. Few. Sure, his business is doing well. Sure, it could be worse. Sure, he had a fucking meal today-- that doesn't mean these things don't hurt. He aches. Holy shit, he aches, and when he sits down in the front row, sees the urn, he feels bile rise up.

He can't be this close.

He stands up.

Everyone there looks at him, confused. Most are people he knows, maybe has seen once or twice at a get-together. Josh doesn't bother to say hello. He isn't in the mood; he really would prefer to lay low for now and leave as soon as it's respectable to.

With this in mind, Josh sits in the very back, in the corner, throwing one leg over the other and bouncing them both nervously.

He can't help zoning out afterwards. His mind blanks, that easily. There is countless things he could think about, this celebration of life being the first, but he doesn't. Instead, he's staring into his lap, clenching his fist, watching his knuckles turn pale, then unclenching. He does it repeatedly, and afterwards, he's picking at his absolutely horrendous cuticles.

Eventually, people sit beside him. It's no one he can recognize, either. He settles for assuming they are friends of his parents. Yet, even then, they don't seem to have a clue who he is, never mourning to him, say they're deeply sorry for his loss, which makes him question who his father has invited. If they don't have any idea who Josh is-- the son-- then how close were they really to this family?

It's almost disrespectful, he would say. That's until he begins watching people make their way in, and his heart drops to his toes when seeing who soon comes through the door, alarms being set off in his mind.

Kelly, Chris, and Tyler Joseph.

Josh snaps his head to the other direction, eyes widening while bringing the collar of his coat higher in order to cover enough of his face.

He's really questioning his father's choices right now.

Though, he supposes it makes sense. Laura, Bill, Chris, Kelly-- they were all close. It makes sense. They were neighbors for a long time, with children the same age, and did not have many friends outside of work. Of course they connected through that.

Once Josh and his family moved, it was like a fresh start. Or it was for him, at the very least. He left everything behind him in that stupid town, repressed any memories from that neighborhood, and that house, and that bedroom.

Now, they're coming back up.

Horribly fast.

His breathing becomes more sporadic, and slowly, he peeks, watching them sit close to the front row, in the pews in front of him. He only hopes-- sorry, prays-- that Tyler doesn't look back and see him. Maybe his parents too, because he's positive if they catch him there, they will mention it to their son.

Fuck.

He shakes his head, leaning further into his seat.

Finally the doors close, indicating that the ceremony is soon to begin. When Bill is walking past all the pews to take a seat and sees Josh in the very back, he furrows his eyebrows at him.

Josh shakes his head again.

His father doesn't push past that. He simply nods, continuing to make his way to a seat. He sits in the very first row, urn right in front of him, and the pastor who has been patiently waiting slowly picks up a stack of papers, getting a good view of everyone.

His father chose Pastor Hall instead of a clergy of some sorts to do this because it only made sense. He was just as invested in Laura's life as anyone else; the two of them came to this church every single Sunday, years longer than Josh has been alive.

As Pastor Hall begins though, Josh's brain can only wire down.

He considers how much his faith has changed over the years. He grew up Christian, attended church the entirety of his life until finally moving out, and since then, it hasn't been a priority of his. He would still say he's religious. Maybe. He only really prays now when it's beneficial, but that's besides the point.

Perhaps he should start coming on Sundays again. He knows things get lonely, so he can only hope that being better acquainted with God once more might help with that.

Then, he remembers why he stopped coming.

The bookstore has taken up all of his time. Especially on the weekends. That's when most of his younger customers come in considering they're free, and it's honestly shocking how many people do visit. In general. Josh had always been weary to start a bookstore because of how little people really read anymore; he continues to be pleasantly surprised, though.

It might just have to do with the fact that he runs about the only bookstore in town.

Either way, he's glad.

Josh supposes it's lame, yet at least he is following his dreams. Those dreams also happen to have hard covers and flimsy pages.

It's nice.

He has been around long enough to where he knows some of his customers by name, and others he has even become friends with. Many people come in and hangout, stay for a while, which is nice considering it gives Josh someone to talk to. He does live alone after all. He's his own boss, his own employee, his own company.

It used to be empowering, but now, after all of the events that have happened this past year, he has never felt more alone.

Still, he deals with it.

He always deals with it.

Josh tunes back into reality then. The whole thing is overwhelming, especially since it feels like it may never end. He doesn't need to hear about his mom's entire life story, he lived with her for over eighteen years, he knows who she is. It's going on and on, and maybe Josh is simply bitter because his eyes are beginning to well with tears. He doesn't care. It hurts to hear about. It hurts to be reminded of what's now missing. It hurts to know he lost something he can never get back.

He's so out of it that he almost doesn't catch Tyler looking around.

Before Josh is able to do anything, he's glancing behind him, and when they meet eyes, Tyler blinks a few times, smiling to himself.

Josh crosses his arms over his chest.

Tyler looks different.

Though, its been eight years, so what does he expect.

Tyler examines his appearance very obviously before facing forward again, focusing on Pastor Hall's words once more. He continues talking and talking, and Josh's mind continues running and running.

He really didn't think he would see Tyler for the rest of his life.

He never planned what he would do if this were to happen, and now it is. He's overwhelmed, so, so overwhelmed. He thought today would be hard because it involved bringing light to what Josh had only thought of as dark, but now, seeing Tyler, he doesn't know what to think. He's sure that after the ceremony ends and the reception begins, he's going to try to talk to him.

He knows.

When Pastor Hall finally finishes, he asks for everyone to pray. Each word makes Josh's stomach twist, the reality of everything being terrifying. It's hard to believe the person who would wake him up every morning with breakfast ready on the table is no longer here. It's hard to believe the person he finally felt able to cry to is no longer here. It's hard to believe his support, his shoulder to lean on, his mother, is no longer here.

Josh always expected for these kind of situations to bring something, just something, good into his life, and despite that, not a single thing has happened.

He's miserable.

He's lonely.

He's lost.

"Amen," he still manages to get out.

Maybe he'll never fully cope. How is he possibly supposed to do that when someone he couldn't imagine living without is now gone?

"If it's alright, anyone who wants to come up and share a story they have with Laura is able to now." Pastor Hall says, a gentle smile on his face, a comforting one. And of course, to no one's surprise, Bill stands up. He walks onto the small front stage and swallows thickly, eyes scanning around everyone.

There isn't that many people, yet it's enough to make his heart swell in admiration, that's for sure.

He clears his throat, mouth open with nothing coming out. It's awkward, really. And Josh feels so anxious he could cry-- no, he's going to cry. Bill finally does begin speaking, and it's fine, Josh is holding in there, but that's until he starts talking about chemotherapy and how much time all three of them, not just Laura, spent at the hospital.

More things he has repressed are coming back up.

Josh knows Bill doesn't want to make this event more depressing than it has to be, still, that doesn't mean he's not. Josh has been able to hold his tears this long, now they're threatening to fall. Though, opposed to letting them escape, he pinches his knuckles and breathes through it. In, out. In, out. Overwhelmed, at ease. Overwhelmed, at ease.

He's certain his father would want him to go up and say something. There's absolutely no way he will, despite that.

For multiple reasons.

Josh is quiet. He always has been. Sometimes it's from nerves, sometimes it's because he prefers being silent, and other times it's just that he has nothing nice to say.

And also, if he went up there right now, the anxiety of having so many eyes on him (especially a certain person's) would make him breakdown even more.

Once Bill finishes, ending on as much of a happy note as possible, Josh only pinches his knuckles harder.

The person beside him frowns when seeing, slowly placing a hand on his back, rubbing circles into it, and he hates it. He hates it but bites his tongue for the sake of keeping himself sane and not to be a complete embarrassment, because she's simply trying to comfort him. He's fucking difficult.

Of course it only lasts so long, and once she pulls her hand away, his eyes widen to see Kelly stand up from the pews and take Bill's spot on the stage.

Josh sighs, sticking his face into his hands.

He tries to block it out. "I met Laura when her and her family moved into our neighborhood years ago," Josh shakes his head, not wanting to remember any of it. Everything then was confusing, such a mess, a point in time that he wishes he could never recall again. "We got along really well. Our boys would hangout together and it would give us time to get to know each other." No. No. Josh could pull out his hair at this point. "She really was one of the best people I've ever met, and I wish there was more I told her before everything, but all I can hope is that she's in a better place. It's what she deserves. I'm sure everyone here knows that."

Josh knows.

Josh knows too well.

He clears his throat, sitting back in his seat.

Only a few more people speak after that, yet all Josh can think about is Kelly. And Chris. And Tyler.

He can't stand it.

He can't stand any of this, especially when the last person finishes speaking and Pastor Hall invites them all to get food the kitchen made for them. The reception, more or less, which also means it will give anyone and everyone time to speak with him.

He'd rather never hear a word from a single person again.

This is frustrating.

He decides to stall as much as possible, waiting in line for food, nearly jumping when someone grips his shoulder.

He's worried for a second, yet when he sees that it's his father, he exhales a breath of relief.

There's drying tears on his cheeks, eyes swollen and red.

Josh wraps an arm around him and pulls Bill to his side, resting his head onto his shoulder, trying to ease himself down before anything else. The two of them do that. Quiet, patient, thoughtful.

"Are you doing alright?" Bill finally pipes up.

Josh shrugs.

He gets a sigh in response. "It's okay, Josh." He whispers. Then, when someone catches his eye, he pulls away to look at his son. "I invited the Joseph's. I know its been awhile since we've seen them, but I figured it was the right thing to do considering how close we all were. Especially you and Tyler."

Josh could roll his eyes.

"Yeah," is all he says.

"Is that alright? Maybe you can talk, you know. You need to talk to someone." Bill is aware of how lonely he is. Maybe it's obvious.

Josh shrugs another time.

Bill huffs. "I'm serious." He states. "I know you said you don't want to talk to him anymore, but he used to be the only person you had. Don't forget that."

Josh wants to forget it.

Nonetheless, he silently nods. In shame. In fear. And before anything else, he's the next in line, grabbing food.

Pasta salad, fruit, a bottle of water. That's all he feels able to stomach, really. Once he grabs everything, he's making his way to sit in the very back of the pews again, taking a bite of some cantelope absentmindedly.

He has luckily managed to keep down the tears. Though, there's a pang in his chest; he chooses to ignore it despite everything. He's used to it. Constantly keeping things pent up in public, constantly keeping himself on the edge of his seat because he's too embarrassed to be vulnerable in front of anyone else except himself. Even then, still, it's just as hard when he's alone.

The pasta salad is good at least.

Good enough.

He sighs, crossing one leg over the other, thinking that he can possibly leave soon if he really wanted to.

It has only been an hour or so, yet because of how dreadful everything has been, it feels like the time continues passing much slower than usual.

He'd rather be in bed.

But life has bigger plans for him.

The brooding touch of an arm against his doesn't go unnoticed, and neither does the tremendously overbearing feeling of need dripping from the frame that now sat beside him.

Josh doesn't have to look. He knows who it is.

His eyes keep focus on his plate of food.

Ignoring things as much as possible is one of his specialties, honestly. It always has and he can't see it changing any time soon.

"It's been a minute," Tyler says.

Josh wants to laugh.

It's been a minute, really? That's how he starts it off?

Josh ignores him.

Tyler shifts, moving, moving, leaning forward a little to look at Josh more clearly. He blinks, a hand holding onto the back of the pew, keeping himself forward to get a view like this. "You look good." He continues.

Josh wishes he didn't.

"Thanks." He utters.

There's some silence, so Josh eats in the meantime. He looks anywhere but Tyler's eyes. Forward, at the stage. To the left, where the line for food is. He feels absolutely sick to his stomach. Tyler's presence isn't just Tyler's presence, it's eight years of repressed thoughts, feelings, worries.

"I'm sorry about everything. . . I, uh," he pauses, swallowing thickly. "I can only imagine how hard it must be." He comments, then, is looking around. "The funeral is nice though, your dad--"

"It's a celebration of life." Josh whispers.

Tyler purses his lips, Josh eats another piece of fruit.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry."

More silence.

Josh wants to go home. It's uncomfortable, it's unwanted, it's overbearing. Tyler doesn't seem to notice-- or maybe he does but he's too desperate to get something more out of him to care.

"You can look at me, you know." He says.

Josh chews. Chews and chews and chews, and once he finishes, staring forward at the front, he finally caves. He always fucking caves for Tyler. He slowly looks to the right and meets his eyes, heart slamming against his chest at the mere sight of him.

Tyler's features are tiring to look at.

"I don't know what I did,"

His eyes seem different.

"But I hope you know I'm still here for you whenever you need me,"

There's such dark bags beneath them.

"And whatever it was, I still want us to be friends."

He's gotten a lot thinner.

Josh doesn't realize that he never responds. Tyler sighs because of this, eyes scanning his entire face before Josh focuses back on his food, taking another bite of pasta salad.

"Are you still living here in this town?" He wonders.

Why won't he just leave him alone.

Josh only nods, licking his lips, wishing that maybe his dad would come and save him from this conversation but he knows that's not going to happen. He's not a kid anymore. He has to do things on his own, even when he doesn't enjoy them, and this is one of those things.

Tyler hums. "Must be why I never see you around."

Josh shrugs.

It's followed by more silence. It's called for.

"You still don't talk very much." Tyler comments then, blinking, sniffling, too close.

"Maybe you just talk too fucking much." Josh states.

Tyler doesn't seem phased. At all. He only nods, running a hand through his hair, pulling at it for a moment, but rests it onto his lap right afterwards. He fiddles with one of the threads of his ripped jeans. Though, it doesn't look like the rip was intentional.

So, the two of them sit there after that. It's fine. Josh considers that he can deal with this for now.

"What?" Tyler rushes out.

Josh furrows his eyebrows, looking at him again. "What?"

"Did you say something?" He wonders.

Josh blinks. "No?"

"Oh. Sorry." Tyler bites his cheek, blinking in slow motion it seems like. He looks so tired.

Josh sighs. "Aren't you gonna get food or something?" He murmurs after a moment, because he might as well talk to him. Tyler isn't going to leave him alone until he gets a thorough conversation with him, and if that's what it takes, that's what he'll give.

Tyler shakes his head. "I'm not hungry."

Josh doesn't push. He doesn't care enough to.

Like a cycle now, more silence. It's never-ending, yet once he speaks again, it's like it goes on forever as well.

There's no winning.

"Seriously," Tyler starts. "What did I do wrong?" The amount Josh would rather not talk about this is absurd. He should be focused on his mother right now, not Tyler. He should be focused on consoling his father right now, not Tyler. He should be focused on helping himself through this, not Tyler. "It's been so long. No one would give me your new number, either."

"That's because I told everyone not to." Josh says.

"Why?" He asks.

"It's called moving on, Tyler." Josh practically snaps. He's irritated. "I didn't want to talk to you anymore, why is that so hard to understand?"

Tyler sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's hard to understand because I've known you since we were fucking twelve years old. You and I were close. We went through a lot of shit together, and-and I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you at that time." His tone is harsh. It's understandable. "Excuse me for not understanding, because unlike you, I actually give a fuck."

Josh's eyes widen when he says it.

His entire body fills with rage, in seconds.

He shakes his head, turning away, looking at anyone and anything besides Tyler. He can't believe it. He seriously can't believe the amount of selfishness he has after all this time, on a day like this. Josh is glad he hadn't talked to him since moving. It's definitely for the better.

"Are you not gonna to talk to me? Really?"

Josh bites down harshly on his lip, body hot, heated.

"Josh,"

"I'm keeping quiet so I don't say anything that will hurt your feelings, because this is just stupid." He murmurs.

"You've already hurt my feelings. I'm sure you can't do any worse." Tyler bites back.

Really, they're simply snapping at each other at this point.

This is what Josh gets for shovelling things as far down as possible despite knowing there's too much certainty of it all coming back up.

Josh turns to face him. Fully face him. He's not going to look away this time. "You're an idiot. Genuinely, fucking stupid." Josh says, quietly. He would rather not let anyone else hear. "The fact that you think I didn't or don't care about you is probably the dumbest thing I have ever heard. I cared about you so much-- too much-- that's why I couldn't talk to you anymore. Why's that so hard for you to understand?"

"Because you literally haven't talked to me for eight years! What do you mean!" Tyler shouts.

Josh is about to say something else, but before he can, someone's touching his arm. When he turns around, it's his father, pointing right to the door, wordlessly directing the both of them to that direction.

Josh sighs, standing up.

He's walking towards the entrance once throwing away his plate. Tyler though, he doesn't follow. Josh turns to face him when noticing. "Well, come on. If you really want to talk, let's talk."

After some consideration, Tyler gets up.

He's gotten taller since the last time Josh has seen him, too. He has changed a lot physically.

The two of them silently walk out of the church, and once they're outside, they stare at one another, leaning on the wall. It's pretty much raining by now. It falls into Josh's hair, his face, and he can't find a reason to care at this point. He's livid. The only thing his mind can focus on is getting Tyler off of his back once and for all.

"Just because we were friends when we were younger doesn't mean we have to be friends now." He utters.

Tyler rolls his eyes. "You're full of shit,"

Josh keeps quiet. His brows stay in a natural-irritated look while examining Tyler's features a little better.

"You know we were more than friends so don't give me that." He shakes his head.

"We weren't. Stop." Josh grumbles.

"Are you kidding me?" Tyler rubs the palms of his hands against his eyes, huffing, puffing, maybe he'll blow this house down. It already feels like he has. "Do you really think that's all it was? I don't care if you were scared to admit it then, you're an adult now, you know what it actually was."

"We were just friends."

Tyler is baffled at this point. "Just friends don't hold each other like that, Josh. Just friends don't kiss each other like that. Just friends don't give each other handjobs like that." Tyler replies, seething, eyes dark.

"Shut the fuck up." Josh whispers.

"Are you scared of the truth?" Tyler wonders. "Wouldn't surprise me. You always have been."

Josh can cry for a whole other reason. "You're a cunt."

"Maybe I am, but at least I'm not lying to myself." Tyler states.

"Shut up." Josh whispers.

"Why?"

"This is why I never wanted to talk to you again." Josh discloses, wrapping his arms around himself when he starts to shiver.

"Why is any of the stuff we did so bad? We're human. Don't be ashamed of that." When Tyler watches Josh's face fill with guilt, he steps back a little. "Have you still not told your dad that you're gay?"

Josh sighs. "He's knows I'm gay, asshole."

"Then what is it?" Tyler's always pushing, prodding, wanting, craving.

"Don't you get it?" Josh murmurs. He doesn't know why he asks, because it's obvious Tyler doesn't. The look on his face confirms that. "I went through one of the worst times of my life when I was neighbors with you. I was struggling so much trying to find myself; I depended on you for everything, and you knew that, too. Now when I see you, that's all I feel. The sadness, the confusion, the manipulation-- I hate it. It makes me feel like shit. And I can't help but think it was a mistake, you and I. . . Doing things together."

Tyler blinks, sniffles, runs his pointer finger back and forth beneath his nose a few times. Josh gets it. His allergies are terrible in the spring, too.

"I don't know why you would think having sex with me is a mistake. If anything, that helped you-- you would always tell me that. When you were lost, thinking of something, wondering how it would feel, you'd come to me and we'd figure out if you liked it or not." He pauses. "I. . . I mean, you cried afterwards most times because you felt guilty, but so what? That doesn't mean you should regret it. Enjoying something."

Josh swallows thickly. He still doesn't get it. "We didn't have sex. Don't say we did."

Tyler rolls his eyes. "Okay. Whatever." He shakes his head, looking down at him. Just slightly. He's only slightly taller than Josh. "We pretty much did everything else, though."

Josh flushes a little, looking away.

"Josh," Tyler sighs. "Stop blocking me out because of the past. It's childish. I still care about you, no matter what you might think."

"You used me," Josh whispers, continuing to look off somewhere else.

"What?"

Josh sniffles, trying to keep it together. "You already knew you were gay then. I was confused, and vulnerable. You were only using me for your own benefit. Just wanted to get in my pants."

Tyler looks as though he's trying to contain his frustration. "I didn't use you. I can't believe you'd think that."

"What else am I suppose to think?"

"Oh, I don't know, that I loved you? Wanted to help you as much as possible even when you didn't know yourself?" Tyler groans. "Besides, why didn't you tell me then if you think that? Now. . . Now I feel even worse than before. Did you not want it?"

Josh meets his eyes. "No. You don't understand." He bites the inside of his cheek. "You took advantage of me whether you realize it or not. You didn't help. You never helped."

Tyler shakes his head. "Josh, I didn't just do it for me. It was for you. It was all for you."

He doesn't know what to believe.

Maybe that's why he nods along. He's stuck in a delusion.

"Okay." He croaks out. "Okay." Tears are welling in his eyes, and when Tyler carefully reaches out to hold his cheek, he starts crying, loudly, brokenly. He always holds it in, so much so that he forgets how good it is to let it out.

Tyler uses his thumb to wipe his cheeks. "Come here," he whispers.

Josh nods another time, squeezing his eyes shut, not even giving himself one more second to think about it before shoving his face into Tyler's chest, wrapping his arms around him, crying harder when Tyler does the same. He missed this. Fuck. He missed this. Why. Why did he miss this?

Tyler holds the back of his head, scratching his scalp. Josh whimpers quietly, painfully, because he hates that Tyler remembers how much it comforts him.

It hurts at the same time, though.

His mom would always do the same thing.

"It's okay, Josh." Tyler soothes, his heart beating quickly, which makes Josh feel hopeful because his is doing the exact same.

"I missed you." He murmurs pathetically.

He always caves for Tyler.

"I missed you, too."

Josh grips his hoodie tighter, rubbing his nose in circles against him. Tyler smells like he hasn't showered in a few days, or has even put on deodorant, but Josh is so desperate he doesn't care. At all. In fact, he only holds him tighter, sobbing hysterically.

It lasts longer than Josh wants it to. He considers pulling away multiple times, yet, he doesn't, because Tyler continues holding him like this really could be the last time they see each other ever again, fingers still scratching at his scalp. He rests his chin on top of Josh's head and cradles him, side-to-side, mimicking something else his mother used to do.

Today has been such a terrible day. He knew it would have been, but it's almost as though the more it continues, the worse he feels.

By the time Josh does calm down enough, he's exhausted. Drained. Tired. And the realization of what he has done is sinking in like fire.

He pulls away.

He sniffles, Tyler does too.

"I'm gonna leave," Josh whispers.

"What?" Panic flashes across Tyler's face. "No, no, no. Josh, please don't leave. I miss you. Please. Stay. Let's talk some more."

Josh can't think. "I'm sorry. I need to get home. I'm too-- I just can't be here anymore." He can't be around Tyler anymore either, he feels disgusting-- what was he thinking? Holy shit his head is throbbing.

Tyler has never seemed this terrified. "Call me. Text me. Something. I know I probably shouldn't have brought this all up at your mom's--" he pauses, sighs. "I'm sorry. I just didn't know if I could see you ever again. I needed to talk to you."

Josh swallows thickly, brushing the drying tears away. "Maybe." He decides.

Tyler tilts his head. "Maybe? I--"

"Tyler, I'm sorry, I need to go." The look on latter's face speaks louder than words. "Sorry." He rushes out, unable to wrap his brain around anything else. This has already been so much, too much, and without another apology, he's rushing to his car, leaving Tyler alone in the rain.

Perhaps it's sad how quickly tables turn, because despite Josh now feeling even more used and belittled than before, Tyler begins to grow accustom to it, as well.

They'll figure it out eventually, though.

***

Thank you to my good and INSANELY talented friend ElliotIsGayImElliot for drawing a little piece for the first chapter of this book! This is what Josh looks like in the story, and what he wore this chapter. Please feel free to follow Elliot on Twitter where she posts more of her amazing drawings (go hype her up!). Her handle is @/toggnjogg.