next door » joshler [book #1]

forty eight » no offense but ryden is real and i am gay

he's blindingly drunk for the third time this week, but this time, somebody's arms are around him, and somebody's lips are on his.

tyler isn't noticing much except the music pounding in his ears and the feel of someone's lips against his, their hands on his ass, their skin on his. he hears some yelling, but you expect that at a club like this. he thinks he hears his name, but he's probably just imagining it.

opening his eyes, he looks up into the ones of the stranger he's kissing. they're wide open, a dark brown. nearly black. rimmed by short, stubby eyelashes and heavy bags underneath. strands of pale hair falling between them.

"hi," says tyler, pulling away a bit. the stranger keeps a tight grip on his ass, their hips pressed together. they murmur a hello back. their voice is low, rough. it's not like josh's, but tyler doesn't think about that. he presses his lips back against the stranger's. lets their intoxicating scent wash over him.

he's drunk for the third time this week, and it feels beautiful.

tyler was never one to drink a lot. he prefers drugs. still does, really. but it's been so easy lately to spend his time going to clubs and drinking until he can't think. hooking up with a random stranger. never even finding out their name.

he hears the yelling again, and a pair of hands jerk him back. roughly.

then the stranger is yelling, and the person holding on to tyler is yelling, and tyler's head is going woozy. he twists around to see who's holding him captive, and sees a very, very pissed brendon, strands of hair falling into his face, lips twisted into a scowl.

"tyler," he's yelling, "you fucking idiot, what the hell are you doing? would josh would've wanted this?" his eyes darken as he glares at the stranger. "get the fuck away from my friend," he spits, and then he's dragging tyler away, outside, cold air hitting his skin, and then another familiar voice and blinding light and the smell of a car-

"you okay? tyler?"

it's ryan. he shakes tyler gently, prodding his shoulder. dizzily, he hears brendon yell back for him to stay awake, but everything's sort of slipping away. "i'm okay," he slurs.

"um," mumbles ryan, "you're not, but.. uh... how many times have you been drunk this week?"

the car starts and tyler lurches, moaning. "three."

"shit!" ryan's face is pale. "bren, he's not looking too good."

the car speeds up and tyler clutches the seats. "i'm sorry," he mutters stupidly. "i'm s-sorry."

"hey, uh, it's okay," ryan assures him, "look, you've nothing to worry about. we're gonna get you home and into bed and we'll discuss this in the morning, yeah?"

tyler frowns at ryan sadly. "but i wanted to fuck someone," he sighs, and ryan blinks.

"well, i'm sorry about that," he starts, but then tyler climbs into his lap and kisses him clumsily. "tyler, what the fuck? get off."

tyler keeps kissing him, grabbing his face with shaking hands, and then ryan pushes him off forcefully and tyler feels the back of his head hit the seat.

"shit!" brendon snaps. "baby, it's alright, he's just really drunk." ryan mumbles something, something that tyler doesn't catch. his vision is swimming. everything's a blur of light and dark. his hearing's fuzzy too. ryan's voice mixes with brendon's, and then tyler feels himself finally, thankfully, pass out.