TRIGGER WARNINGS:

- Smut.

***

Josh, for once, makes sure to be responsible and get things done. He sets an alarm, waking up early in the morning, wanting to check the orders that were made Sunday so he can ship books. It's only ten (that's early for Josh) as he's downstairs in the shop, writing customer's names down, collecting everything he needs to take to the post office. Another thing he does is write personal notes for each. It's not necessary, no one asks for it, but it's something that lifts his conscience a little. Makes him feel like he has more people around him than he actually does.

Typically, the notes are something like: To [insert name], thank you for purchasing a book from us, we hope you enjoy.

It's brief. Dumb.

Josh likes doing it.

It takes about an hour or so for everything to be sorted. When he's finally done, he packs all the orders into his car and drives to the post office. It's time consuming considering the multitude of packages he's shipping out to different houses, and once he's done, it's nearly saddening. He doesn't have very much to do now that the shipments are all taken care of. . .

He sighs when leaving, heading back to his car. He plops down into the seat and sighs another time, too, not wanting to go back to the shop right now.

The loneliness is unbearable.

Josh has started to think about things he never would have, all because there's so much time to now. He can't have a mindless conversation to tie him over. He just thinks. It's eye opening, truly. When he's left with nothing but his thoughts, he begins to start realizing what's actually going through his head. Most of it is depressing. Ultimately, Josh is glad he's the one person allowed in, because if anyone else saw what's happening there, they would run.

He wants to run.

He can't.

Josh, for a while now, has been missing a lot more than his mother's touch. Whether he cares to admit it or not, he misses an intimate touch, also. There's never been a night since Josh and Brendon broke up where he hasn't thought about how much he longs for having his arms around him at night. That alone is the worst yearning he has out of all of them. Josh is only so strong. He can't carry himself alone for long. He has noticed this quickly.

He considers taking Brendon back, a lot. Maybe not take him back, but kiss him for a day, makeout, have sex. Fuck, he misses it all.

It's stupid. Absolutely ridiculous.

It would never happen, either. Brendon is too traditional. He always talked about how he wanted to get married, have kids, get a dog, and Josh said nothing, because he didn't know what he wanted. Still, he doesn't know what he wants, and that became a big problem for the two of them. Brendon comes with a certainty, one Josh will never have. That scared him. He has grown accustom to the unknown throughout the years, so much so that it has been comfortable for him, somehow. He never knows what is to come next.

Brendon wouldn't have a one-night stand with him. It's an absurd wish. He'd want to start a relationship again, and Josh isn't sure if he's capable of that right now. That's the biggest reason why he broke up with him.

Josh isn't capable right now.

Brendon was good. He helped with the store, with his mother, with him. He helped when Josh found out the chemotherapy wasn't going to work out. He helped when Laura died, because Josh was so numb he couldn't walk the next morning. Brendon was good. And Josh wasn't.

He couldn't do that to him.

Josh can only imagine the torment he would have put him through if they were still together.

He's so miserable.

Yet that doesn't stop him from slipping his from out of his pocket to message him. It's not a big deal. They're friends, after all. They get along. Brendon understands the decision, respects it, wishes him the best. They were together for over a year. It's hard to let that go.

hey, are you busy?

Josh is pathetic. He should've just texted Debby. She has a while before work.

no. what's up?

i'm out right now. wanna catch some lunch?

Being an adult is weird. There's no one watching and criticizing his actions anymore, and for Josh, that isn't really a great thing. He couldn't make a good decision if his life depended on it. Yet, the longer he thinks about it, that might be the whole point. His life does depend on making good decisions, and still, here he is, making bad ones. He can't tell if it's subconscious, or a purposeful self-sabotage.

Either way, when he reads Brendon's message, there's a conniving excitement.

yeah, that'd be cool. sub kings?

you read my mind.

meet you there.

Josh is giddy when he shouldn't be. It's the first thing in ages that has given him any sort of situation to look forward to, even when he definitely shouldn't be this inclined to a lunch with his ex-boyfriend.

Once reading Brendon's message and slipping his phone back into his pocket, Josh sits straight in his seat, starting the car up. The drive isn't very far luckily, and within a few minutes, Josh is outside of the eat-in. Though, he waits, knowing it will take Brendon a while to get here since he has to get ready and head out. In the meantime, Josh reclines his seat all the way back and basks in the sun coming through the car windows. It's the first time it has been sunny for days. Something about it is comforting, the warmth, and Josh wraps his arms around himself, eyes closing after staring at the ceiling for a moment.

For once, there's not a single thing going through his head. He's empty.

It's good.

He'd never think being empty would be a positive thing, but for Josh, that's all he ever wishes for anymore-- he's overflowing with emotions, he wants them all the dissappear.

That's the weird thing about it. Josh craves to feel nothing. He says he's numb yet it's almost the exact opposite. He's experiencing too much. Is it possible to be numb and overwhelmed at the same time? That's the only way he's able to describe it. Maybe the amount of things piling up on him is making him numb; there's so much of it that his body has created a co-pilot system.

Josh has no control control of his movements anymore. The unlucky part about it is that the only thing he experiences at this point is the backlash of everything. Someone is walking, working, eating, but it's not Josh. Josh just receives it, never able to commit anymore.

The sun is making him delusional.

Before he can drift off again, there's a knock on the window, and immediately, he's opening his eyes, squinting, seeing Brendon.

He sits up in his seat, clearing his throat as he gets out of the car.

"Hey," Brendon says. "I messaged you that I was here and you didn't answer." He comments, taking in Josh. It's been a while. "What were you doin' in there?" He asks, chuckling slightly, and Josh grows quiet. He missed him. He can't help the small lift to his lips at the mere sight of Brendon.

"Sorry," he whispers then. "I was just. . . Getting some sun."

Brendon hums, still smiling. "You need it."

Josh is pale. Really pale. It's not his fault, he rarely goes out anymore. He likes staying indoors as much as possible though, too. It's safe for him.

He nods in return. "Um, ready to go in?"

"Yeah."

Josh presses the button to lock his car, and with that, the two of them are heading inside. Not a lot is said between them until after they order. They fill their drinks up at the soda fountain before sitting down, beside the sun, and Josh starts going fuzzy again because of it. He looks at Brendon, watching his lips move, and not hearing a single word leaving his mouth. He catches the way he brings his hands together when he's ending his sentences, soft fist to palm, eyes out the window every so often, able to speak miles more than Josh ever will.

He misses him.

He misses having someone to be around, at least.

Josh is no good on his own. He needs a person to keep him level-headed, hold him until he falls asleep, kiss his forehead while he makes food. He needs love. To be taken care of. Especially to be taken care of. Josh has no control left, he knows this. He thinks he just wants somebody else to have control, at least, but a safe kind. For his sake, since it's no longer in his nature.

"Josh," Brendon utters, noticing his attention has dissipated.

Josh finally meets his eyes. Like the sun, it's warm. "Sorry." He says for the second time today.

Brendon purses his lips, fingers fiddling with the straw to his drink, moving it up and down. "Are you doing okay?" He wonders.

What a dumb fucking question.

Josh almost laughs, but instead, he hangs his head low, shoulders shrugging as a response. He doesn't want to talk right now, he'd rather listen to Brendon go on about stupid things like his job at the craft store or movies he has seen recently. Something different than the same thing. Everyone always asks that as if they're expecting anything contrary of the last time he answered.

"How are you?" He quizzes, trying to shift it off of himself for once.

Brendon stares at him, probably wondering what's going on inside his head, yet thankfully, he dismisses it. "I've been good." He assures, drinking his soda in between. "I've been trying to redecorate my apartment a little bit to make it look more. . . Adult." He chuckles.

Josh knows what he means by that. Brendon is a big movie buff. He gets really invested in the storylines and often buys merchandise and limited edition products from his favorite franchises, meaning his whole apartment is simply a big mess of posters and figurines. Josh was never the type to do that, get passionate about movies, but after he met Brendon, it changed. Brendon introduced him to the movies he holds near and dear to his heart, and seeing his excitement when certain scenes would come up made Josh love it, too.

His apartment, on the other hand, Josh did not love as much.

Luckily, when they were together, they spent their time at Josh's for the most part since he needed to be there for the store. He can't imagine what it would have been like to regularly stare at Chewbacca's face while they had sex.

One time was enough.

"That's cool." Josh murmurs. "How's that going?"

Brendon sits back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Good. I've been trying to compromise a little, like find a middle ground between keeping the things that I love and making sure it looks more mature." Josh wonders how much has changed. "I bought this shelf, it's pretty cool. Instead of having stuff on my dresser, I moved them onto that, and I also bought frames for the posters so it looks less. . . Teenager-room-y."

Josh uses his tongue to move his piercing side-to-side. He does it too often. "Is Chewbacca still over your bed?"

There's a pause. Brendon's Adam's apple bobs, shaking his head. "Nah," he replies. "I moved the posters into the living room and spaced them out with some other little things between them. I don't know. Redecorating has made me realize I have a thing for interior design that I never knew about."

Josh almost wants to say something along the lines of you should come over and help me do the same, because he can't design for the life of him, but he refrains from doing so. It isn't right, and before he can come up with something, his name is being called by one of the employees. "I'll get it." He assures, mostly to get the space to sort his thoughts. Josh is slipping out of the booth in a hurry, walking up to the counter. He grabs the tray of food with a small thank you following, and like that, he's back, in front of Brendon, unaware of his next move.

He passes him his sandwich, silent for a while until the two of them get at least one bite in.

"Have you seen any good movies lately?" Josh asks quietly. He needs something to keep him preoccupied when he's alone.

Brendon nods, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "A few really good ones have come out recently. I can text you them, if you want."

"Yeah," Josh utters.

Brendon observes his state, probably able to read him far too well at this point. Josh let him in on a lot of stuff; Brendon practically knows Josh like the back of his hand. After all, Josh did think they had future ahead of them. That allowed him to open up more than he typically would with other guys he was with. Brendon was his longest relationship, though. It's a tough thing to get over.

"How's the store been going?" Brendon questions, easing his way into it. Into understanding where Josh is at in life right now.

Josh shrugs. "It's been alright." It's not terrible, after all. He's still making a living, still getting routinely customers, still carrying on for his mother. "I know I've said it a thousand times before, but I really can't thank you and Debby enough for helping out. You don't have to, and you do. It means a lot to me. I don't think I'd be where I am without it." He wants to feel awkward about how sensitive he gets with the whole thing, yet Brendon has seen too much of this side of him for there to be any stress.

He finishes chewing a bite of his sandwich, placing it back down prior to speaking up. The look on his face is sincere; Josh watches those bushy eyebrows of his pull together. "You don't have to thank me, Josh." He voices. "We're not together anymore, but I'll always care about you, and I'm always going to want to help out as much as I can, especially because I know you're going through a tough time right now."

Everyone has to remind him as if he wasn't already aware.

Maybe he's just bitter.

"I appreciate it," Josh tells him nonetheless.

Brendon nods, and like that, the two of them fall into a more comfortable discussion. Josh allows Brendon to talk about what's going on in his life most of the time because he doesn't want to focus on all the shit happening in his own, and it gives him something else to focus on, anyways. Positive stuff. Brendon is doing well, he talks about possibly adopting a dog soon since his apartment allows animals, and that he's finding the time to start cooking a little more. He wants to be able to make nice meals for company, he adds.

Josh gets it, although, he has no company, so the need to learn how to cook better isn't very high on his list.

They both sit there long after they have finished their food. Josh thinks Brendon likes having an outlet, and that's why he's staying this long, yet deep down, he's wishing that it's because he misses Josh the way Josh misses him. Perhaps that's the real reason. After all, they were in love. Probably still are, honestly.

Josh believes it.

Once they finally decide to start heading out, he's tossing their trash into the garbage, leaving when they refill their sodas. Brendon walks with him to his car as well, facing him to say his goodbyes. Everything seems stuck in place at that very moment, to Josh. Brendon speaks, meeting his eyes, features hooded, happy.

"Thanks for inviting me. It was good getting to talk." He tells him, a small grin on his face.

Josh nods. "Thank you for coming." He utters. "It's been a while since we've hung out."

Brendon eyes run over his face when he says that. Josh doesn't know what he's looking for, and still, it makes his heart flutter. It's moments like these where he wonders if he made the right decision breaking up with him. There's countless feelings he has for Brendon to this day. He can't dismiss that. Brendon could have probably thrived if they were together. Just as much as he is now. His lips are handled with care, hands the same, and he'd touch Josh sometimes like he could break at any moment, fragile without the warning label. It's almost impossible to let that go. Josh ponders on what might have been a big mistake.

"Do you need help at the shop this week?" Brendon asks.

Josh takes it in for a moment, not sure what he expected. "Uh, I don't have a clue." He sips on his soda, looking off for a second, then right back to Brendon. "Debby's coming to help tomorrow, I'm pretty sure. I'm not positive what's happening after that. I'll let you know, though."

"Okay, cool," Brendon responds. He sticks his hand into his pocket, blowing air out from his mouth. "Well, I'll see you soon." He declares.

Josh stares at him. "Yeah,"

There's a pause in movements. Brendon doesn't leave.

It's like he has more to say.

Josh's mind is screaming at him because of it. Just try. He can't shake the thought.

Before he can convince himself it's a bad idea, Josh takes one last sip of his drink, leaning forward until he's close enough to kiss Brendon. But, without a second to waste, Brendon is pulling away faster than Josh can meet his lips. It's like his heart gets filled with concrete at that exact time, heavy, sinking, falling to the ground where it will shatter.

"Sorry." He whispers immediately, taking a step back. He's so fucking stupid.

Brendon's Adam's apple shows the awkwardness in a physical form. His focus shifts to the side, not on Josh. He's isn't saying a single word, either. He's quiet. Thoughtful.

Josh is about to tear up.

He's horrified.

"Sorry." He repeats, voice cracking.

Brendon clears his throat, looking at him again. "I'm. . . I'm seeing someone, Josh." He murmurs.

That's when his heart really drops, breaking into a thousand shards for him to step on. "Oh," he wishes the sun would swallow him whole and burn him alive. Let him suffer. Bloody and boiled, deservedly.

Brendon nods. "I was going to tell you sooner. I didn't know when." He continues. "I just. . . It's not super serious, we've only been on a couple dates, but. . . I like him. And I don't want to do that to him, or to myself." Josh is ridiculous for ever imagining that to have gone well in the first place. He's alone. He will stay alone. "I was about to tell you right now. That's why I didn't leave."

Josh has never felt worse.

His throat is tight, begging him to keep those tears in a little longer. It'll play along to his façade. "I'm happy for you." He states, giving the most painful smile he has ever mustered up.

Brendon purses his lips together. "Thank you." He mutters. "Sorry for not telling you sooner."

Josh doesn't say a word.

Brendon sighs, pulling his keys out. "I'll talk to you later." He concludes. There's no goodbye, he simply walks off with one last look to Josh. The breeze blows with his absence, and Josh stands there, truly numb, frozen. He can't move until he hears Brendon's car pull out and drive away. It's not until he feels a drop of rain land on his nose where he finally gets into his own vehicle. He doesn't cry when the doors close and he's by himself again, he only inhales, buckling in, and making his way back home.

***

Josh watches Star Wars in his underwear until he catches himself drifting off. He's so sick to his stomach the rest of the day that he doesn't bother to cook dinner, either. He just lays on the couch in the dark once finishing the third movie, waiting for something, shivering from the cold.

Brendon never texts him films to watch like he said he would.

Josh feels pathetic.

Like a zombie, he sits up after a while, dragging his feet all the way to his bed. He falls down against the sheets, slowly crawling to the right side. The left was always Brendon's. The moon is shining through the windows, a light source, allowing him to get a good view of the empty space beside him. Josh grows weak after that. As if it's in his nature, he curls in on himself, legs folded, pulled high, one arm around them, the other around his side. There's nothing. No smell of cologne, or super glue. There's no breath alongside his. There's no warmth to keep him steady.

Josh has nothing.

With his head tucked into the sheets, he cries. It's the first and only time today. Maybe that's a sign that he's getting better.

Though, something tells him that's not the case.

It's silent in his apartment. His sobs echo back to him, and every shift he makes is so loud. He's so loud. Everything is so loud. His tears fall onto his tongue, the taste of salt sour opposed to anything else. There isn't a single thing to make this better. He's shivering as he chokes on air, gasping as his fingers dig into his skin, whimpering as he falls deeper within his sorrows.

He's full, stomach growling despite that.

Josh sniffles when it hits midnight, cheek against a puddle of wet sheet while he finally begins to fall asleep. The exhaustion comes from no place other than the frenzies he works himself into.

By the time his breaths are calm, his body is, too. It seems like the only time he is at ease anymore is when he's no longer awake.

Tonight, Josh doesn't have a single dream.

***

Josh wakes up to the sound of Debby's ringtone blaring through his apartment. It's nearly deafening, and definitely not the best way to wake him up after such a shitty night. He's grumbling as he turns to his other side, reaching for his phone. He answers after the fifth ring, putting her on speaker. He rubs his hands over his eyes soon afterwards, the corners of them crusty from falling asleep while crying.

"What," he utters.

"Josh, where are you?" She hurries out.

His brows furrow together. "Huh?"

"It's past noon. I've been knocking on your door. Why haven't you opened the shop?"

Fuck.

Josh is rushing out of bed as soon as he hears that. "My alarm didn't go off, holy shit." Just his luck. "I'm gonna get ready, I'll be down there in a second." He ends the call right then and there, cursing beneath his breath over and over again. He's not sure he has ever dressed this fast, because in less than a minute, he has jeans on and another knitted sweater. This time, it's blue and purple. Josh moves into the bathroom when he finishes, brushing his teeth and taking a quick piss before he's slipping on a pair of sneakers.

Once gathering his keys and phone, he's dashing down the stairs, locking the door once he's outside.

"Hey," Debby says when she sees him.

Josh is focused on one thing, and doesn't say a word until he's done. "Hey." He murmurs, moving to the store entrance, unlocking that. The two of them walk in with a breath of relief. Josh can relax. It's fine. He takes a swift glance at his phone to see that it's twelve twenty-three. Only twenty-three minutes late. It's fine. He rarely gets customers this early, anyways.

He huffs nonetheless, arms reaching out to touch the counter, body bowing before it.

Debby rubs his back. "I'm glad I came when I did." She comments.

Josh nods, inhaling, exhaling, standing straight again. "Thank you." He whispers, and without another word, he's pulling her into a tight hug. He needs to be touched, even if it's something this small. Debby doesn't refrain from holding him back just as tightly, hand still rubbing at his back while it happens. They both stay exactly like that until Josh pulls away, which happens after a long while, and once he does, he's silent, trying to occupy himself with something else. He puts on a playlist to play through the store. Instead of violin covers of popular pop songs, it's piano covers.

He rarely plays music with lyrics for the simple fact that this is supposed to be a calming place, for him, and for customers.

Debby must notice he's trying to busy himself because whenever he walks back behind the counter after flipping the closed sign, she's looking at him expectantly. He pretends he isn't seeing it the first few times, but as her glare intensifies, he throws his arms up in defeat. "What?"

"Are you going to talk about it?" She wonders.

"Talk about what?" He asks while checking the money in the register.

"You tell me. Whatever it is, I can see it all over your face." She discloses, lifting herself onto the counter, looking down at him. "Besides the other day when I came and helped, you haven't hugged me like that since. . ." She doesn't finish her sentence, knowing Josh wants to think about his mother's death as little as possible.

Josh stays quiet, sighing to himself.

"Josh, you can tell me. It's eating away at you, I can see that." Debby is sincere. Always wanting to help.

He huffs, closing the register in an irritated manner, one hand leaning on the counter as he looks up at her. "I fucked up yesterday, okay?" He remarks. "I did something stupid and I feel like absolute shit."

"What happened?" She pushes.

Josh becomes meek, eyebrows softening, posture doing the same. He looks off, away, too embarrassed. "I asked Brendon to have lunch with me yesterday." He murmurs. "It went fine. It was fine. I just hadn't ever hung out with him like that since we've broken up, and he seemed to be having a good time, and it made me realize how much I miss him and how dumb I am for ever letting him go and--" he brings his hands to his face, Adam's apple bobbing. "I thought maybe he was feeling the same way so before he left I tried to kiss him. . ." He takes a deep breath, moving his hands, looking to the ceiling, then to Debby. "He told me he's seeing someone else." He admits.

Debby's staring at him, sitting straighter once collecting all of that. "Oh," she gets out.

Josh groans at the response. "I hate myself so much, fuck."

Debby shakes her head. "Don't say that, Josh. You're okay--"

"I literally tried to kiss my ex-boyfriend even though we've been apart for months and I'm the one who broke up with him." He cuts in.

Debby listens, sighing. "Well if you know it's bad, why try in the first place?"

Josh swallows thickly, arms crossing over his chest. He shrugs, growing solemn, despaired. "I don't know." He utters. "It's just. . . I'm so. . . Alone now. . ." He whispers, humiliated. He tries his hardest not to vent to Debby all the time. It must be annoying. "I miss him. I dunno. Maybe I don't miss him, I miss being loved, or something. I want someone to hold me sometimes, you know?" He's quiet.

Debby places a hand on his shoulder. "I can hold you," she offers.

Josh let's out a weak chuckle, shaking his head. "Thank you, but no." He says, body getting warmer the longer he thinks about it. "I miss being held, yeah, but I also miss. . . Other things." He exposes.

Debby gasps. "Woah!" She exclaims, shoving his side playfully. Josh laughs in a weak manner.

"Stop," he drags out.

She rolls her eyes, smiling. "I mean," she starts, hands gripping the counter on each side of her, leaning closer. "If want to do that, why don't you just download an app or something. Don't they have gay ones, too? What's that popular one called? Grinding?"

Josh blinks. "Grindr." He mentions, yet moves along before she can reply. "And no. I'm not going to go on some stupid app to meet weird guys so I can have sex. That's. . . Gross. I'm not that kind of person." Josh nearly flushes talking about this. "I'm an average guy, I like romance. I'm not promiscuous. Like yeah, I want that, but I also want to be. . . Loved." He murmurs, embarrassed to be exposing this much of himself. He's pitiful.

Debby hums. "You're such a softie."

"I'm human." He retaliates.

"A soft human who wants unconditional love from a man." She adds.

Josh meets eyes with her. "I'm gay. We know this."

Debby smiles. Though, it dissipates. "In all seriousness. . . Are you okay? I know you said you miss having a guy around, but since you aren't able to have that right now. . . I'm here for you, alright? I can come on days you're off and we can cuddle and watch movies or something. Even a little might help. Company from whoever instead of someone specific." She tries her hardest. "We all get touch starved sometimes."

Josh is beyond touch starved. He's on his knees, pleading, screaming.

"Thank you, Debbs." He replies. "Maybe. I don't know. It's just two different things and I'm not sure how well it'll tie me over."

"It's better than nothing." She insists.

"I know. I'll keep it in mind." He assures, uncrossing his arms once someone walks through the door.

"Good." She concludes.

***

As usual, Josh is immeasurably greatful for Debby's help. Having her around allows him to be able to interact with customers more, since she can watch over the register while he assists people. Otherwise, he'd be stuck behind the counter, not leaving when someone asks for him.

Although he appreciates it, at the same time, having her around makes him guilty. He can see it written all over her how tired she is. Debby goes to work at six in the evening, and is there all the way until two o'clock in the morning, and here Josh is, selfish, needing her here or else he'd suffer the consequences. He's depriving her of sleep, time to relax. Debby should be at her house right now getting the rest she needs before working through the night, and instead she's here. Josh knows it's affecting her. Sometimes she sits down on one of the sofas throughout the day, and in a matter of minutes, she's sleeping.

He's told her he can manage the place on his own (which is probably a bold assumption for him) but Debby constantly shuts him down, assuring him that she would rather be here to help him than get a couple more hours of sleep.

Josh believes her, because he has to.

Around four, there's a lot of people inside the store. A few have been here for a bit, finding a space on the sofa to sit and read, while others are either looking around for the sake of it, or interested in purchasing a book. Josh helps them as best as he can, answering their questions, giving suggestions. He falls into a conversation with a girl about Stephen King books, which Josh has read a few of them, but it was never really his pace. Though, she's talking on and on about it, expressing such a profound admiration, so he listens, feeding off of her energy as much as possible.

"I dunno. I'm really invested in the way he writes." She shrugs, bangs dyed red. It makes Josh happy. "I've read just about everything he's put out. I've been trying to find another author to get into."

"I can show you a few of my favorites that we have," Josh says. "Maybe you'll end up liking it."

She smiles, nodding. "Yeah, that'd be awesome."

Josh leads her to the horror/thriller section since that seems to be one of the things that grabs her attention the most. He shows her a few different options, and she isn't relatively interested in any of them until Josh shows her the book Odd Thomas by Dean Koontz. He watches her perk up as he explains a bit, drawn eyebrows lifting in excitement.

"I like the way that sounds," she cuts in before Josh finishes a synopsis.

He hums, handing it to her. She reads the back of the book quickly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she looks up at Josh. "I'll get this." She decides.

Josh nods. "I can ring you up right now." He murmurs. She agrees, and with that, the two of them are walking over to the counter. As Josh is scanning the book, the girl is staring at him, and whether it's because she's simply waiting to get the item back, or she's preoccupied with Josh's appearance, he can't quite tell. It's not until he says the price and after she gives him cash where she's smiling again, hands clasped on the counter.

"I like your piercings." She utters while he's getting her change.

It's a relief. "Thanks," he replies, the corner of his lips lifting in the slightest. He counts the money for her then, placing it in her hand when she sticks one out. "I hope you enjoy. It's a good one."

She's giddy. "Thank you. Can't wait."

Josh watches her walk out of the store, bell ringing behind her as she leaves. He's turning to Debby once she's gone, the place less packed now.

"Isn't she a cute little thing." Debby mentions without looking up from her phone.

Josh leans against the counter. "I like seeing kids in here. They're so. . . Oblivious. . . And. . . Don't know how dark things get." He misses being young. Well, not misses, but wishes he was young again. To redo it. He gave up such good things all because he wasn't comfortable in his own skin. Something as simple as that ruined years of his childhood. Even at the age of ten, Josh remembers how excluded he felt from the world. There was always something wrong, and he figures he could have made it better if he really tried.

It's too late now.

"Wasn't she talking to you about how much she loves Stephen King?" Debby asks, chuckling.

Josh shrugs. "Yeah."

Debby says nothing in return, letting that speak for itself. Josh observes her in the meantime, wanting to smile easy like she does, yet as Debby continues scrolling through her phone, it drops, fast. She glances to Josh for a brief moment, swallowing visibly as she looks back to her phone.

"What?" Josh wonders.

Debby tries to dismiss it. "Nothing."

He steps closer, attempting to look at what's on her screen. "Show me," he insists. She pulls away from him.

"It's nothing." She repeats.

"That look you gave me says differently." Josh grumbles.

Debby sighs, lowering her phone to meet eyes with him. "It's something you probably wouldn't want to see." She warns.

Josh is irritated that she's withholding whatever it is for this long. "Just show me," he begs. "Otherwise I'm going to be thinking about it all day and be grumpy that you didn't tell me what it was. It'll haunt me."

Debby sighs again, handing him her phone. "Scroll up a bit. You'll see it."

Josh stares at her, seeing how upset she is, which makes his stomach churn as he begins scrolling through her Instagram. He's not sure how she expects him to know where to stop, but after passing around seven posts, he catches exactly what she is referring to. In an instant, there's such a sharp pain in his chest, he almost can't breathe. Josh blinks slowly, gauging the photo, seeing Brendon with a big smile on his face as another man kisses his cheek, the caption reading: scruffy smooches.

Josh wants to puke.

He hands Debby her phone back, shaking his head.

Fuck. His. Life.

Josh's eyelids twitch as he closes his eyes, inhaling, exhaling. There's such a tremendous mix between irritation and sadness boiling within his body, and he can't help when he's overcome with one emotion, and that one emotion is being absolutely livid. At himself, at the world, at his choices, at Brendon, even. All of this is one big, giant stab into his chest, solely so those around him will watch as he bleeds out.

"Josh," Debby whispers, placing a hand on his shoulder blade.

"I'm going to lose my shit." He utters quietly, not wanting anyone to hear. He has to keep it together the last few hours that the store is open.

She brings him close, back to front, squeezing his pec as she holds him. "It's okay." She assures. "It's okay. You're okay. These things happen. I'm right here with you." Josh holds her hand, breathing in, breathing out, trying to calm the fire within him. Cool it down, at least.

"Why would he post that a day after. . ." He can't think. He feels frail yet mighty all at once. There's nothing to do.

"I don't know." She murmurs.

Life is one painful, gruesome joke. Why can't God tell that Josh isn't going to be able to handle all of this much longer. He takes his mother, his happiness, his boyfriend, his sanity, and he runs with it. What does Josh have left? He can't think of a single thing. He can't even bother to find it in himself to cry either, because it's as if there is nothing left. All his sorrow is stuck, now. He can't weep it out. He wants to scream, kick something, bash his head against a wall to get the satisfaction of controlling his pain for once.

His agony is immeasurable. The longer he lives, the more it builds up. Each day he finds something new to cause him affliction. He didn't know it was possible to hurt this badly.

There's no way life can get worse than this.

He closes his eyes and soaks himself in the love Debby offers. It's just about the only love he'll receive. She is too perfect, always there, forever a friend, and Josh thinks it's disgusting how little he acknowledges it. He hasn't lost everything. He has Debby. Right here. Showing him how easy it is to comfort someone, make them know it will get better soon. It will get better soon. It might take a while, but his future is bright.

Josh finds peace with that thought. He wants to stay like this for as long as possible because of it, though, he can't. When he hears the bell above the door ring, he's slowly moving from Debby's hold, ready to help someone if they need it.

Yet, as Josh gets a look at who it is, the fire is burning more than ever before.

There's no way.

"Debby," he gets out, fast, heart pounding brutally against his chest. "Fill in for me real quick."

He catches the way her brows pull together in confusion, but he doesn't give her an answer. The mere sight of Tyler is making his blood boil. He has countless questions, complaints, and before he can't hold it in any longer, he's walking from behind the counter to the front of the store, grabbing Tyler by his wrist, pulling him outside so quickly that he isn't able to say anything to Josh prior.

As soon as they're no longer in the store, off to the side, out of view for anyone to see, his eyes are widening when he faces Tyler, the reality of the situation hitting him right then and there.

"Why the fuck are you here!?" He yells. It feels good. He's so used to being quiet; he forgets how great it is to be mad.

Tyler's lips part as if he's surprised by the reaction. "I wanted to come talk to you." He declares.

Josh stares at him in disbelief. "How do you know where I work!? What the hell, Tyler!"

His Adam's apple bobs, looking off to the side, watching a car pass by, then focusing back on Josh. "My parents were talking about it on the ride back into town Saturday. I guess your dad brought it up, and they were telling me about the bookstore." His dad. Of course his dad helped with this. "I just looked it up online." He shrugs.

Josh reminds himself to breathe. Calm down. Stay calm-- well, he wasn't calm in the first place, but the point still stands. "I don't want you here. I need you to leave, and I don't want to see you afterwards. I made a mistake confiding in you this past weekend. I'm not in a good headspace and you took advantage of the opportunity again, like you always do." Seeing Tyler brings nothing other than dread. Him and everything he stands for is a complete mistake.

Tyler seems angry as he listens, clenching his fists. "Stop saying that! I haven't ever taken advantage of you, Josh! Jesus Christ, quit accusing me of that!"

"You don't have a clue." Josh utters. "You're so caught up with yourself that you've never tried to figure out how I'm feeling. It's always about you." He swallows thickly, putting his arms behind his neck, staring up at the sky. "I haven't seen you in eight years for a reason. I want you to leave me alone, please. I don't want you coming back to my store."

Tyler curses beneath his breath, stepping closer. "No." He insists. "I want to talk. That's all I want. I don't fucking care at this point if we see each other again, I just want to talk to you. I miss you. I haven't stopped missing you since you moved." He admits, brows raised, persistent with his words. "Stop being childish towards me. You're an adult now. I want to talk. You owe that much to me after all the shit you've put me through. Even Saturday."

There he goes again, always making it about himself.

Josh sighs. He wants to curl into a ball like he did last night. "Tyler," he starts, looking at him once more. "I'm working right now. I can't."

"Okay, so I'll wait 'til you're off." He decides. "I drove all the way here to see you."

He's so desperate, needy. He has been this way since Josh met him. Relying on something-- in this case, someone-- to get him by. It's pathetic. Enraging, as well. Josh is better off leaving this whole thing to rot.

Yet, the longer he thinks about it, maybe if he simply gives Tyler this one last chance, he will let him be for good. Only one more conversation, and these thirteen years of bullshit will finally be over. He can erase the memories of meeting Tyler after freshly turning twelve, forget about the time they first kissed a few months after his fourteenth birthday, throw away the thought of his hands always on his body after sixteen. Let this go for good, exactly like he planned on doing when he moved out of town eight years ago.

Josh inhales. "Fine." Exhales.

Tyler is pleased. Of course he is. Josh gave in, as usual.

"I get off at eight." Josh murmurs, embarrassing himself. "Come back here then. But leave right now. I don't want to see you until then, okay?"

Tyler nods. "Thanks," he offers.

Josh wants to punch him.

Without a word, he's giving him a final look, turning around afterwards, heading inside the store.

As soon as he comes through the door, every single person, including Debby, is staring at him. They must have heard him yell. . . Which makes his body go hot, realizing how uncomfortable it must of been to try and shop or read, but instead hear furious shouting. Especially from Josh, who is so quiet. He feels shameful knowing how unprofessional it is considering he has humiliated himself for all of his customers to witness.

He clears his throat, stepping back behind the counter, trying to pretend it was nothing.

Debby looks at him in disbelief when he tries to pass it off.

She leans close. "There's no way you're going to act like whatever that was did not just happen. . ." She whispers, shocked, confused. Josh is pretty sure she has never endured him angry like that before.

Josh busies himself with something else, dismissing her. The last thing he wants right now is to think about Tyler any more than he has had to since Saturday. He doesn't want to tell Debby who he is, what he has done, why he's mad-- he doesn't want to relive it. To Josh, these past few days have felt like he is reliving all the pain he went through; he can't stand the thought of doing it again. He's tired of it. Tired of Tyler.

"Josh," Debby utters.

Josh sighs. "I don't want to talk about it right now." He discloses.

Debby huffs, most likely irritated by how he works. Josh is a rollercoaster. There's never smooth sailing when it comes to him. He can be fine, then the next minute, he's a mess. It probably doesn't help that he pents up an absurd amount of his feelings and isn't willing to share them even when it comes to his closest friend. He trusts Debby, of course he does, it's just that he hates the idea of putting too much on someone for his own benefit. It's a hassle on both ends, and to Josh, it isn't worth it.

"Are you okay at least?" She wonders.

Josh looks to her, gulping. "I'll be fine." He assures. "A lot of frustration since Saturday is all."

Debby hums, lifting her pinky up. "Promise you'll tell me eventually?"

Josh stares at her, wondering if he will ever have it in him to do that. Ultimately, he has no clue, he simply wants to keep her pleased. He wraps his pinky around hers. "Yeah," he murmurs.

She nods, content with that response. "I'm gonna go pick up some food for you before I head to work." She says, changing the subject, picking up her purse. "What sounds good?"

Josh decides when he gets the time, he needs to do something nice for Debby. She does so much for him despite receiving very little. "Just a burger or something," he replies, watching as someone who has been at the shop reading for about an hour stands up from the sofa, waving at Josh. "Have a good day." He gets out, smile terse, rarely genuine anymore. As the bell rings he gets a chill down his spine recalling why it last did that. He pushes the reminder aside, it's over with for right now.

"Gotcha. I'll be back in a bit." She squeezes his arm. "Take care of yourself for me."

She doesn't wait for Josh to respond, which is good, because he won't. So, with that, she's walking out, bell ringing again, causing another chill.

He dismisses it.

Throughout the time Debby is gone, it's relatively busy, but nothing that is too much for him to handle. After all, he's not completely helpless without someone else around. He can do it. It's usually a matter of if he's willing to do it. Josh is certain that if Debby or Brendon hadn't started assisting with the shop, he would have picked up the hassle, truly, all on his own. He adapts. It's something he has to do. With having their help, maybe Josh has subconsciously come to the conclusion he can't handle it by himself. Which is definitely a lie. He likes the company, the comfort of his friends.

Though, at this point, Josh can't conclude if he and Brendon are really friends anymore. He might have fucked it all up yesterday.

He tends to do that.

At the thought, Josh slowly picks up his phone once the shop grows tame, going on his Instagram. He's torturing himself by doing this. There's an absurd amount of pain in his chest as he looks up Brendon's handle, and it only continues to worsen as he clicks on the picture Debby had shown him earlier.

Why.

That's all that goes through his head.

Brendon posted a fucking picture of himself and the guy he's seeing. He told Josh it wasn't that serious. Why did he lie? It's obviously serious if he's going to expose his new love interest to his followers like this. Did he lie to make Josh feel better? Did he lie because he felt pity for him? Poor Josh is so desperate for love and affection, I must have to let him down easy, right?

When are things going to get better? Josh wonders.

He finds himself thinking about the whole situation again. When he broke up with Brendon.

They were happy. Perfectly fine together. Josh made dinner some nights, and other times, Brendon tried to. He was never very good at it; Josh remembers teasing him constantly for always burning everything, and they laughed because of it. Kissed sometimes, afterwards. They'd pick a new movie to watch every Friday night, and cuddled on the couch together as they went through it. It was love. The first time Josh truly felt love from anyone he was with. It wasn't silly, or temporary, it was permanent. A permanent love.

He was terrified of ever letting that go, and yet, he did it to himself.

There's something about a parent dying that changes a person. Josh always held on to stuff, had countless conversations he wanted to have with his mother, but he'd consistently throw them aside for later. The funny thing about that, in this instance, is that there isn't a "later". The stories he wanted to share are forever kept away, and so are the thank yous he had for various occasions. There's regrets he didn't know he had until the moment there was no pulse. They flood. He could have told her about the time that this happened-- or how when he was sixteen, he believed he--

It isn't important, anymore. None of it is.

Josh felt like his own body was going cold after his mother's. It seemed anything around him would crumble if he did something as simple as look at it.

Maybe that's not because of the death, though, maybe it's because of the depression.

He'd been struggling with that since he was old enough to know what it was. Josh recalls being thirteen, and his few memories from that age were how his fan beside his bed blew on the blankets as he laid there throughout the weekends. He didn't sleep. He just laid in bed. It wasn't that he was necessarily sad those days, either, it was because he knew that something would go wrong if he left his room. Whether it'd be a word from his father's mouth, or a comment Tyler made if they hung out, it would be bad. And he was sensitive. He would have gone back into his room and cried from it, be confused, uncapable of knowing himself.

That's probably the scariest thing.

Josh, to this day, doesn't believe he knows himself. Back then it was worse. He was young, uncultured, under a tight belief system that made it difficult to understand anything he was going through. It was never spoken about. Not from his parents, or school, or even church. He was left in the dark, forced to discover it that way, and it still haunts him.

Josh remembers the first time it really became apparent. During the second summer at his new house. His and Tyler's family gathered for a barbecue, and his dad bought a slip-n-slide at Walmart an hour beforehand. It was a few weeks before his fourteenth birthday. He, Tyler, and his siblings were in bathing suits, seeing who could slide the fastest, and Josh recalls so vividly how much his heart would speed up every single time Tyler touched him that day. How his cheeks grew hot as they played with water guns and Tyler would tackle him, wet skin against wet skin.

Before that, Josh hadn't ever paid that much attention to his feelings. He wasn't interested in girls, but he always thought it was because he was young, and maybe some people don't grow feelings for others until they're older.

Though, throughout the months of getting to know Tyler more, he began realizing why he felt short of breath around him, and eager to be close. Those were the feelings he was supposed to be having for girls. His dad would tell him so. He described very similar things when he spoke about how he felt around his mother when they first met.

The comprehension was nearly paralyzing.

Josh denied it.

He had to, because he was told to subtly, and other times boldly, by society. By his parents, too-- well, mostly his father. It wasn't like they said anything that was necessarily homophobic, it was the fact that when speaking about relationships, there hadn't been the mention of it being with anyone other than a man and a woman. That made Josh presume that's all it could be. That's all he could do.

So, he pushed his feelings for Tyler aside.

To this day, Josh pushes his feelings aside. Not about his sexuality anymore. It has shifted. Now, it's about practically everything. Josh shoves it all down until he can't breathe, can't walk, can't think, can't function. That's his biggest flaw, one he somehow wasn't selfish enough to have Brendon endure any longer. That's why they broke up. Josh reminds himself. That's why they broke up. He took into account someone else for a change, and came to the conclusion that if Brendon stayed with him any longer, he would only bring him down alongside him.

Being depressed is like a plague. A wordless one. Once somebody is around a person who is infected, it's only a matter of time until that somebody is in the depths of sorrow, as well.

Brendon is too good for that. Josh needed to let him go.

Though, he often wonders if he will ever find someone, then. If he believes he's too depressed to maintain a relationship, will he ever be able to have one again?

Josh is desperate for company. At this point, he'd take anything.

***

The hamburger Debby brings Josh is amazing. He makes sure to hug her tightly as a thank you before she is off to work, and the rest of the evening, Josh drones through. Like it's nature. His auto-pilot take place the next few hours, and it's complete delusion. He finds his mouth moving and stops throughout some of his sentences when taking into account that not even he knows what he's talking about. It's just coming out.

That seems to happen often. Josh is a prisoner of dissociating.

It's not until it grows dark outside where Josh looks at the time, seeing 7:58 on his clock. It's a relief, he's ready to finish up for the day, but, as he's going to lock the door and sees Tyler standing outside, it's a harsh reminder that today is not finished. Whatsoever.

He says nothing, simply opening the door, allowing him to come inside. Wordlessly, he does, and by that time, Josh flips to 'OPEN' sign to 'CLOSED'.

Josh is so out of it that he can't even think to say anything, despite definitely needing to. He only walks back behind the counter, in his routine, he can't break it, counting the money from the register. His hair falls into his face as he lowers his head to do so, seeing the way Tyler looks around the shop from the corner of his eye. Luckily, music is still playing from his phone, otherwise, this would be awkward.

"It's nice." Tyler mutters.

Josh is quiet, counting. He's too preoccupied to answer, but he probably wouldn't have, anyways.

Tyler walks around more, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, examining the place further. Josh doesn't care. If he wants to focus on that for right now until he's done with the few things he has to do, that's fine.

Josh writes down the profit, takes away the necessities, trying to calculate everything-- fails. He's too out of mind to do this shit. He sighs at the realization, gathering the money and putting it back into the register, deciding he'll do this later. Tyler wants to talk right now, and he wants to go upstairs already. Being down in the shop throws him off.

Josh unplugs his phone from the aux, running a hand through his hair as he walks over to the door, finished for the day. Tyler looks at him, eyebrows furrowed. Josh only waves his hand, silently telling him to follow, and Tyler catches on, leaving with him out the door, watching as Josh locks the store up. They both keep quiet the entire time, which Josh is thankful for, because he isn't sure how much of Tyler's blabbering he can take until he figures out his own thoughts, recollects, comes back to earth.

When Josh is moving to unlock his apartment, the realization that he is about to let Tyler inside of his home settles.

It's a weird thought, yet ultimately, it will help him relax more if he's able to be in a safe space, so he goes inside and makes his way up the stairs, Tyler following after closing the door behind him.

Once they're both standing in his bedroom, Tyler finally speaks up. "You live here?"

Josh unclips the keys from his belt loop, tossing them onto his bedside table. He looks to Tyler, nodding, heading into the kitchen area. Tyler follows like a lost puppy.

"That's cool." He murmurs, looking around just as he did in the shop.

Nosey.

Josh passes it off, and instead, he goes to the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of water. When standing up straight, he looks to Tyler again. "Thirsty?" He wonders quietly. It feels like it is the first time he has spoken in hours, which definitely isn't true. The only difference this time is that he's conscious of it.

Tyler's lips purse together. "Sure."

Josh doesn't ask what he wants. He hands him a bottle of water.

The silence consumes them then, once more. Always, in Josh's case. He has no idea what he wants to say, or what Tyler has in store for him, and it's quiet from that. What is there to talk about? He glances over to Tyler a couple of times, heart still racing at the mere sight of his face, and nothing can compute in his mind. His palms are sweaty, even. Josh barely remembers Tyler making him this flustered.

Though, he's not sure if he's flustered this time. He's simply overwhelmed that the person he spent such a vulnerable part of his life with is back. Here. In his home. Trailing along Josh when he sits at the small table in the dining space, sitting down himself on the other chair. Then, he stares. Trying to pull something from him, like his father does, and Josh's Adam's apple bobs in response.

"Well. . ." He begins, typically meek. "What do you want to talk about?"

Tyler takes a sip of his water, sat across from Josh, almost like an interrogation, and it's horrible. "I don't know. I wanna make sure everything is okay between us. Make sure you're doing okay, too."

Josh sighs.

He's over this.

"You cried a lot Saturday. . ." Why does he have to mention that. "And when I asked if you can talk with me longer you just said maybe." Tyler shrugs his shoulders, sniffling as he leans closer. "I knew that meant I wouldn't see you again if I didn't come find you."

"That's creepy." Josh utters.

Tyler rolls his eyes. "Josh, I'm serious."

Josh sighs another time. "Did you ever think the reason I said that was because I didn't want to talk to you again?" He questions, annoyed. "You're so persistent when you shouldn't be."

Tyler is getting that familiar irritated look he had Saturday. "I care about you, my bad." He says it intentionally, letting Josh know it's true, but the fact that he obviously doesn't see that is vexing. "You cried in my arms. That's the first time I've felt you in eight fucking years. It's hard not to want to be around you again when it brings back all the memories of us together."

Josh's throat is tight when he says that.

After the unrequited feelings he has gone through these last couple of days because of the situation with Brendon, it's exciting getting to hear someone say that about him. Like he means something. Even if it's Tyler, a person he's well aware he can't be around anymore, that won't stop it from being sentimental. He needs it. Craves it. Will do anything possible at this point to recieve it.

But it's Tyler.

It can't be Tyler.

"I don't feel like you care about me." Josh admits. He's surprised he let that out.

Tyler's brows pull together, hands sticking out in confusion. "Why, though! I don't get it!"

Josh huffs. He's an idiot. "I explained it to you already." He grumbles. "You used me. I don't care at this point if you understand how, if you feel like you didn't, you did. I can't keep explaining it to you until you understand. I'm a victim of your fucking desires. And no-- no! You didn't do anything against my will, but that doesn't mean it isn't important. I was just a kid. I was struggling with my sexuality, and you are disgusting for taking advantage of that. Reassuring me that what I was feeling was okay so I could jack you off." Josh's chest stings at the memories. "Fuck you." He whispers, head lowering onto the table. His body is hot, angry.

There's stillness afterwards.

A sickening one.

Josh isn't sure Tyler will ever realize the gratitude of his actions, and that hurts. Even a simple sorry could help him forgive Tyler. Though, Josh can't tell if that's possible from him, which only makes the twist in his stomach more severe.

"I was a kid, too." Tyler breaks the silence with. "I'm. . . I'm not saying that to excuse whatever I did to you. . . But I can tell you for a fact what I did wasn't meant to hurt you. I was desperate. I was young and stupid, and when I found out you were into me, that was exciting. It was the first time anyone who was gay was interested in me, I-- it was all so new. I just remember thinking about how much I wanted to kiss you all the time because I wanted to show you that it was okay, that you didn't have to be ashamed. And. . . Maybe I got carried away after that." He mutters.

Josh listens. Quiet.

"It was scary. Weird. I knew you were so worried about your parents finding out that anything we ever did had to be where you were sure they wouldn't catch us." Reliving this is heartbreaking. Josh wants to be consumed by the floor beneath him. "And once we were finally by ourselves, I just wanted you. I wanted us to be happy, makeout, touch each other, give you what you couldn't have when we weren't together. I didn't ever consider that it might have overwhelmed you. . . Or made you feel like I only wanted to get in your pants. I was just a teenager, Josh. Like. . . Yeah, I did want that, too, but that's not all I wanted."

Josh sighs, as if it's a routine. He finally lifts his head, looking at Tyler again, too focused on this discussion to pay mind to the bags beneath his eyes. "I was in the closet. I was probably the most vulnerable I could have been. Why did you possibly think the thing that would reassure me the most was sexual shit?"

Tyler throws his hands out another time in defense. "I don't know! I guess I thought that was the only way for you to like. . . Come to terms that you were gay, and what we did together was okay."

Josh's body buzzes in annoyance. "You could have just held my hand, hugged me, told me you cared about me, wanted to be with me, even."

There's a pause.

Tyler's shoulders lift, looking to the side. "I didn't want to be with you." He admits.

Josh knew that. He has known that, and yet, it still hurts like it did when he was sixteen. "Why?" He whispers nonetheless. Maybe he wants to torture himself. Endure it again.

Tyler stares at him, like it should be obvious. He told him in the past. He'll say it tonight, too. "You were in the closet. How'd you expect a relationship to work like that?" Josh is reminded of the time Tyler spoke about this same thing with him. How Josh caught him trying to work his way around what he did with a guy in his grade over the weekend while Josh was in bed, staring at the fan blowing on his blankets. Not sleeping, laying there. He told Josh he hung out with the guy, but the way he paused in thought throughout his story made it obvious. Tyler wasn't getting what he wanted from Josh, so he went and got it with someone else.

That hurt.

More than anything Josh felt at that time, that hurt the most.

He believed Tyler was the only person he could trust. Though, Tyler was careless with that. I shouldn't have been selfish enough to think he'd only want to be with me, Josh tries. It's not true, in the grand scheme of things. Tyler was purposeful. Everything he did was purposeful. Josh wasn't out, wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of showing the world what he had, so Tyler went to someone else, fucked someone else-- someone he could tell people about and it would be fine.

That's another reason why Josh felt used.

Tyler would only love him until he grew tired. And he was going to. Josh couldn't possibly come out to his parents at that time. He wasn't in the right state of mind. That's what Tyler needed from him to thrive, and he couldn't do it.

"Well, I'm out now." Josh mumbles. "Does that make you happy? Are you ready to fall in love with me now, Tyler? Fully?" He clenches his fists at his side, standing up from his seat, kicking the chair away. He stares down at him. "Or are you going to keep telling me you love me just to give me the reassurance I need? So I let you fuck me. Hmm? Do you want to fuck me!?"

Tyler gulps. "Josh. . ."

Josh breathes in, breathes out, angry. Distressed. Disappointed. "I'm sorry I couldn't come out when you wanted me to. I'm sorry I was so difficult. I'm sorry I couldn't be your boyfriend. I'm sorry I had a hard time believing you loved me." Josh barely remembers what it's like to feel a rush like this. "I was depressed! I couldn't give you everything you needed!"

"Josh, don't apologize. It's fine."

Josh shakes his head. "It's not fine. If it was fine, I would have spoken to you throughout these eight years. If it was fine, I would have felt loved like you wanted me to, and not like shit every time we messed around together." Josh walks into the kitchen space, needing to move, planting his hands down onto the counter, facing away from him. "I still don't know if you ever cared about me like you said you did. That's how I know it's not fine. Even after eight years, I still don't know if the guy I spent my teenage years exploring my sexuality with, cared about me."

Josh turns around with a heavy exhale, surprised to see Tyler behind him. He's so out of mind he didn't hear him get up.

Tyler's eyes look over his features, dark, moving, teeth coming down on his bottom lip. "I'm sorry." He declares, and Josh can't wrap his head around the words. He actually apologized. He never thought that would happen.

Josh's heart wants to beat out of his chest.

"I cared about you." Tyler assures. There's a profound amount of intent. Josh can see it. "I care about you, now, too. And I'm sorry I made you feel like I never did. I'm sorry that I made you feel used. That's my fault. That isn't yours. That's mine."

Josh is baffled, actually flustered this time. Someone cares. Tyler cares. He's owning up to his mistakes. Tyler cares.

"You're important. That's why I couldn't stand not seeing you all these years." Tyler discloses, making Josh want to tear up, because he's getting closure. Finally. This is better than pushing it all aside. "I promise you've always mattered to me. It makes me feel like shit that you couldn't see that."

Someone cares.

Someone, at last, cares.

Tyler cares.

Josh stares at him in awe, conscience unable to comprehend the information of finding what he has been searching for. The closure from the pain he endured years ago, the assurance that he is cared for by someone, the idea of knowing Tyler is capable of giving him what he craves each night.

Josh has come face-to-face with what he has yearned for.

His pulse is sporadic while he keeps his eyes on him, hands fiddling at his sides in trepidation. The reality of this situation is grand, and Josh can't think straight, not at all, all he is definite about is the way his soul feels cleansed like it never has before.

His mind is blank, his heart is certain.

Josh steps close to Tyler, and without an ounce of regret consuming him, he is pressing his lips against his. Needy, desperate, relieved. There's a flood of emotion as soon as it takes place, hungry for the idea of fulfillment, and Tyler returns the favor, feeding off of him.

Though, as Josh sucks on his bottom lip, Tyler pulls away.

"Josh. . ." He murmurs.

Josh searches his eyes, begging for reassurance.

Tyler says nothing.

For the first time, he's speechless.

Josh's brows meet in the middle, staring at him, heart pounding against his chest, fraught. He reaches out to hold Tyler's cheek, the feeling of his stubble comforting. "You mean it." Josh whispers, nodding, believing what he's saying. "You do."

Tyler nods as well. "I do."

That's what Josh has been looking for. Brendon can't give this to him anymore. That's Josh's fault. This time, Tyler can give it to him, and Josh is never going to let that go. He did once. He can't do it again. He won't. Not when he knows that Tyler can treat him the way he has been pleading for. He can do that now.

Josh kisses him another time, harder, and Tyler is frozen for a moment, but quickly, he's gripping Josh's hips with both hands, bringing him closer. Their lips are harsh, deprived, absolutely enthralled by the idea of touching each other after eight years of nothing. It's exhilarating. Josh is all breaths, wanting to cry from how much he has missed another person to be with.

Then, suddenly, he's gasping as Tyler lifts him onto the counter, crotch-to-crotch, nose-to-nose. It happens easily, fast, and there's no guilt once Tyler is all in, because it seems that they both have been hungry for this. It's almost animalistic the way they taste each other's lips, play with tongues, groan when a pressure is against their most sensitive areas. Josh is gone in seconds.

The idea that he finally has control over his body is a good encouragement.

This time around, Josh isn't making out with Tyler simply because it seems like the only way to express his admiration, no. This time, Josh licks into his mouth because he says so. Because he needs it. Because he's sure this is what is best.

At the thought, Josh wraps both arms around Tyler and is pulling him in as close as he can be, breathless as he leans into his ear. "Fuck me." He whispers.

Tyler pulls away only enough for their noses to be against one another, looking into his eyes, lips plump, huffs hot. "Yeah?" He mutters.

Josh pecks his lips, nodding.

Tyler hums as a response, kissing him while his hands slip under his thighs, and in the blink of an eye, he's lifting Josh up from the counter, steps heavy when he makes his way over to the bed. Josh isn't exactly a light person, and by the time they're in the bedroom space, Tyler drops him down onto the sheets, towering over him.

This isn't the first time this has happened. Or the second. Not even the third. So many of Josh's memories with Tyler consist of his body over his own. Yet, it has never been like this. They have done countless things together, and not this. Josh gets a shiver down his spine knowing what's to come, gratified from the idea.

His fingers slide into Tyler's tufts of hair as he peppers kisses down his body, throwing his head back to bask in his touch.

It has been so long. . .

Josh almost doesn't know what to do with himself.

His eyes fall shut when Tyler slowly unbuttons his jeans and taps Josh's hip for him to get him to lift himself up. He does it without a second to pass, kicking off his shoes as well so Tyler can get his jeans down. Once he's left in his boxers, there's a careful hand on him, one he moans at the mere touch of, sitting up to kiss Tyler another time. He just wants to keep feeling him, his lips, his hands-- everything. He has a painful attachment and can't bear the thought of letting it go.

He pulls back to slip Tyler's hoodie and shirt over his head, pressing kisses on his warm chest.

Josh wants to stay like this forever. Somehow, it's safe. The cold running through his apartment can't get to him here when Tyler is this warm, this giving, this wishful. Not when his hands take off Josh's sweater, and as he sits to get a better look, he laughs lightly when seeing his other percings, thumb running over the metal.

"Your nipples, too?" He whispers.

Josh holds the hand he has on him, nodding.

Tyler smiles. "Hot." He declares, pushing Josh so his back is against the mattress, again.

**Trigger warning: smut/unprotected sex.**

He watches with hooded eyes while Tyler takes his shoes off, pants following afterwards. A show for Josh. A good one. His toes curl until Tyler is focused on him once more, licking over one of Josh's nipples as his fingers slip into his boxers, palming him fully, making him groan.

He wants to cum already.

Josh wasn't kidding when he said he was touch-starved.

At the idea of wanting more, wanting it now, he's reaching over as best as he can with Tyler keeping him in place, to the bedside table. He slides a drawer open enough to grab lube. He hasn't touched it in forever. It's almost foreign in his grasp, but even more foreign when he hands it to Tyler.

They never got this far. Never had the stuff they needed, either. Josh recalls Tyler's spit-coated fingers a little too well. It was constant, because that's all they had.

It's different this time around.

So, so much different.

There's no hesitation when he gets Josh out of his underwear, practically starstruck at the sight of him fully bare. That's another thing they never got far enough to experience. There's a stillness from that, Josh propping himself up on his elbows to look at Tyler, observe him as he stares at Josh's body like it's a state landmark. Tyler doesn't blink, almost as if he's mesmerized. It makes Josh's heart pound.

His chest feels flushed. "You, too." He murmurs. It's like he's back to being sixteen.

Tyler has lost his flow; he is completely enamered with Josh's nudity. Still, he manages to tug his own briefs off, sitting tall on his knees afterwards, cock out for Josh, stiff, pink, mirroring the man in front of him.

It isn't the first time Josh has seen it, yet, that doesn't stop his teeth from digging into his bottom lip at the sight, pulling Tyler close. They revert back to kissing. They can't get enough of each other. Josh's fingers slip into Tyler's hair as their tongues meet again, like a reunion-- this whole thing is a reunion.

Tyler becomes slower with his kisses after a moment. A peck, then he backs away, another peck, and he backs away. It's not until the fourth time he does that where he looks into Josh's eyes, lashes long, dusting the flush off his cheekbones whenever he's concentrated. "Want me to finger you first?" He asks, preoccupied. This seems so casual somehow. Josh doesn't understand, but he's fine with it.

As he considers the question, he nods carefully, knowing it would do him no good to try to take Tyler without anything before that, especially because he hasn't had sex in well over six months. He hasn't even masturbated; he has been too exhausted.

Tyler nods with him in response, attention moving to the bottle of lube, popping the cap open to cover a couple fingers with.

While Josh watches, a lump forms in his throat, only because he literally can't tell how long he will be able to last. He wants this to be forever. Without the worries, or the guilt. He wants to last long. He's praying he will, and he hopes he can trust God with that one.

Tyler's arm going beneath Josh's legs to lift them sends a chill down his spine, pulse unbelievably quick knowing he's giving up the control of his body. He isn't falling into the submissive state like he usually does, he's compliant to the power before him, willingly. That's a good feeling. Something he doesn't get often, which is why it is so intoxicating this time around.

There's no words, either. Just Tyler's middle finger running over Josh's ass before pushing into him. His forehead crinkles from it, hand reaching out to hold Tyler's arm. It's more than great. More than perfect. His dick twitches when Tyler pumps in and out, easy, lips parted as he looks at exactly what he's doing, not paying mind to the reaction he's getting, only the way his finger moves. It's too simple. They both know it. It's not even the tenth time he's pulling his middle finger out where he's pushing in the pointer, curling them instantly, and Josh gasps, eyes falling shut.

He rolls his hips into Tyler's movements, chest up, down, eyes flickering to the ceiling, mind clouded as a few quiet moans slip from his mouth.

He's already gone, already sunken deep into the mattress, already wanting to give Tyler a show.

It seems neither of them have patience because in a matter of seconds, Tyler's slipping his fingers out, allowing Josh to breathe and his legs to fall. He leans over him to kiss afterwards, the tip of his nose cold when it touches Josh's. "I'm gonna fuck you hard." He assures, void of air as their tongues grow too eager.

Josh nods, beyond ready.

When Tyler opens the bottle of lube and squirts it on his palm to rub it over his cock, Josh feels himself flushing more than before. Beautifully. There's a thrill that goes through his entire body, so much so that he can't be concerned about the fact that Tyler's not using a condom. Josh has them, but he doesn't care. It's not important.

His thighs shake in anticipation. "Tyler. . ." He utters.

Tyler smiles. He loves this.

Once he plants a hand beside Josh's head and towers over him like earlier, he's ecstatic. Both of them are. Josh stares up at him with hooded eyes, separating his legs wide enough to get the room he needs, and his heart boxes with his ribcage as Tyler centers himself.

Josh is a leaf, shaking from nothing.

That's until Tyler leans down, not kissing him, simply hovering, allowing their hot breaths to meet in the middle when he pushes into him finally. It's simultaneous. A gasp from either side, eyes closing, lips parting. Josh feels weak immediately, tense fingers timid as they climb up to get a grip on the back of his neck, body caving in on itself more as Tyler continues pushing until he's content.

"Fuck," he chokes out. Josh barely hears it, too out of mind.

He pulls back, going right in again, deeper. The short and low noises Tyler let's out make Josh believe this is just as good for him as it is for himself.

Tyler's face falls into the crook of Josh's neck as soon as he is as far as he can go, hand going to hold his thigh, other going under Josh's shoulder, fingers gripping tightly. Josh is aware of what's happening, and like Tyler can read his thoughts, he's thrusting into him for the first time that night. Hard. Josh's head falls back instantly, groan stuttering on its way out.

Holy fuck. Holy fuck.

Tyler is adamant. He's consistent. There's no time for Josh to warm up to it because he's only thrusting again, and again, again, so hard both of their bodies, along with the bed itself, are moving back and forth. Josh chokes on his moans like he's belting high notes, throat feeling like gravel the more intense Tyler becomes.

The grunts above him are rough, only following the movement of his hips. Whenever Tyler's deep, forceful, a grunt trails with it. A routine. Josh wants to pay closer attention because it sounds hot, but he's vacant of thoughts by the time Tyler let's it happen. His hips move with a profound assertion; his entire bottom half tingles from the strength.

Josh rides the waves as they come. The feeling of Tyler inside him, fully, just him, nothing else-- it's thrilling. He moans breathlessly as he gets a few more rough thrusts, Tyler's fingers digging into his skin, nails piercing.

At a certain point, the energy grows slim. While Josh's stomach caves in on itself for his ribs to be in the spotlight, Tyler slows the pace, panting hysterically in the crook of his neck. His tongue moves alongside his ear once Josh's hair is pushed back enough, too, and as his hips grow weaker with time, he's sucking hard enough to leave a memory of this moment for Josh to spiral about later.

The only sound throughout the entire apartment is their huffs, and the noise of Tyler pushing himself into Josh. A wet, slap kind of noise, one that makes Josh want to touch his dick because of.

Before he can reach down to do so, Tyler is nibbling at his ear. "Get on top," he murmurs, not waiting for a response. He gets up and brings Josh with him, sitting on his legs while Josh straddles around them. The change of position is good, and as Josh stares forward, it's then where he realizes the blinds aren't down. The two big windows in the kitchen space are wide open, anyone across the street upstairs would be able to see them, but Josh can't find it in himself to care. If anything, it makes something within him get eager, and he wraps his arms around Tyler, chin on his shoulder, groaning loudly whenever Tyler lifts his hips into him.

He nods immediately, encouraging it, head of hair all over the place as his face falls further into his neck.

Tyler is taking that response and running. Cock in, out, in, out, fast, reaching the point where Josh no longer holds his pleasure back. He unravels before him, moans little every now and then, and bigger later.

He's a blubbering mess. Mindless with the noises he let's out, letting Tyler eat them up as he chooses.

"Touch--" Josh gasps along with a thrust, eyebrows straining together. "Touch me." He utters, dick starting to ache from the minimal attention it has been receiving.

Easily enough, one of the arms Tyler has wrapped around his back slips between the two of them, fingers still slightly lubed from when he was fingering him, which helps while he starts stroking Josh.

Josh thinks he might be in heaven.

He catches himself drifting off at the thought, lips parted, against warm skin, feeling completely gone. He stares out the window again to see the stars, wondering if any of them are his mother. He'd like to believe she's always watching over him, but in this instance, he really hopes she's not. Maybe at night she gives him a break; he is either crying himself to sleep, or doing something she wouldn't want to be a part of. Like this. She'd scold him for days if she ever found out. If she knew how shitty Tyler makes him feel, yet here he is, having sex with him, considering that it might very well be the best fuck he has ever had.

He's mess, for a different reason than before.

This doesn't stop him from rolling his hips into Tyler's movements, letting out a low sound from the back of his throat when Tyler jacks him off perfectly, matching the way he hits that sweet spot inside of him.

His arms get tighter around his frame, thighs shaking. "Harder." He whispers. "I'm close."

Tyler listens. Listens beautifully. He bucks his hips with as much force he can muster, making sure his pairing hand treats Josh well. And it does. He's gasping like he's just coming up for air after swimming, legs clenching when he nears that pique, weak groans passing his lips in the meantime. Tyler is consummate, giving Josh his all. Their bodies are flushed against one another, and when Tyler thrusts once, he moans himself, then again, and it's louder. It's the third time he does it that leads with Josh's inhale stuttering, alongside a mewl so careful he's sure Tyler might cum too from simply hearing it.

The warmth between them gets hotter because of Josh. He's spent, searching for air while cradled to Tyler's chest, eyes closing in remorse.

It doesn't take long for a finale. Tyler is still pushing into him while he's slump on his shoulder, making Josh cringe from the feeling, overstimulated. That doesn't stop the deep groan in his ear being rousing, though, or the warmth that fills inside of him to be less thrilling. Josh almost moans from the feeling alone, never having experienced this before. It's like they're one; Josh endured Tyler in every way possible.

He only let's loose even more, sinking further onto Tyler's cock, the idea of keeping his cum inside him exciting.

Then, there's silence.

Pants of course, though, Josh barely feels alive, unable to catch anything for a while. His ears ring, and Tyler seems distant, but so close at the same time.

He wants to fall asleep like this. Tyler holding his body close, comforted by each other's company. It's foreign to Josh. He can't remember what's it is like to have someone around, let alone someone to be intimate with. He doesn't know what comes after this, yet he can't worry about that right now, not when he might be content for the first time in months.

"Josh," Tyler mutters once they have stayed like this for a while.

He shakes his head. "Wait." He mumbles despite being wedged into the crook of his neck.

Tyler says nothing. He allows Josh to hold him tighter, treat him as if he can slip away at any moment, which could happen. He can't let it happen. Tonight, he can't. He needs him. At least for tonight.

Josh touches him, cherishing him, thinking about Brendon, almost laughing to himself. He wishes he could have been in the corner for that and watched, so Josh can show him what he has lost, what he can't get back after making a fool of him. He knows it's a bitter thought, but he's mad, and the fact that Tyler of all people is just about the only person who can please him is almost humorous.

Finally though, with a meek kiss to Tyler's jaw, Josh is sitting up enough to slip Tyler out of him, falling onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes.

He breathes, basking in the mild-euphoria.

There's a shift on the bed then. Josh doesn't pay mind to it until a minute or so later when he catches Tyler using a tissue off his beside table to wipe the cum from his abdomen.

**Trigger warning over.**

He's taking care of him.

Josh feels his heart about to burst from his chest.

After he and Tyler are both cleaned off and he tosses the tissues into a small trash bin nearby, Josh is peeking up at him as he leans beside his frame, silence as they keep eyes on one another.

"Can you hold me tonight?" He makes out.

Tyler blinks, sucking on his bottom lip. "You want me to stay?"

Josh doesn't consider the backlash of anything right now. He nods, hopeful, and flushing when he takes into account the butterflies that were once so familiar when he was around Tyler, back again.

"I can do that." Tyler decides.

He brings Josh in close, carefully laying his head down on one of the pillows.

Immediately though, Josh sighs, lifting his head to stare into the kitchen. "Can you go turn off the lights?" He asks, looking up at him. "Please."

Tyler doesn't complain. He gets up from the bed and walks into the kitchen to turn the lights off, coming back in the bedroom, hip bones pointed, ribs outlined without trying. Josh doesn't remember him being so slim, so skinny, but he can't find the energy to care, especially because he knows he looks drastically different after eight years, as well. He has no room to judge.

Once Tyler is turning off the lights in the bedroom, too, his naked body gets accentuated by the moon as he slips back into bed. Josh almost wants to cry from how good it feels to have weight beside him on the mattress again, an intense juxtaposition from the night before, where he was curled into a ball sobbing at the idea of probably never having something like this another time. Even if it is only for tonight, when Tyler wraps his arms around Josh and pulls his back against his chest, not minding the mess of curls on his head definitely tickling his face, it's all Josh could wish for.

He wants to stay awake and experience this as long as possible, yet in what seems like the blink of an eye, Josh is slipping into a heavy sleep. He falls into dreamland with the faint memory of Tyler treating his body right, and his mom is there waiting for him, demeanor assuring Josh she was one of the stars in the sky tonight.