Feelings And Shit: A Tythan Story

Purposefully

(Tyler POV)

He fit. Everything about him fit perfectly. And that was annoying as fuck! Whenever his head tucked just so under my chin, his fingers slid into place in my hand or his arms circled snuggly around my waist. It was all so perfect and gross.

I have zero interest in getting physically intimate with anyone but the almost audible click that should have been heard when his thighs circled my hips gave me such disgusting satisfaction that I wanted to eat him and shove him off me at the same time.

But I do neither. Because we are on camera, he is hanging off my body and all I can do is place my hands under his thighs and hold him steady as he piggybacks me for this stupid challenge. And the entire time his face is right by mine and his voice in my ear is saying who the hell knows what but godamn his breath is all up in my shit and making my skin warm and causing goosebumps to ride up my arms like the fucking Pony Express.

Ah shit he's laughing. I wish he wouldn't. I wish he had a gross laugh where he snorted or inhaled really sharply like a dying horse. A laugh that didn't make me feel like the actual sun was shining on my fucking soul. Especially since I loved it so much.

I didn't even care if we won this thing. I just wanted to swing him around to face me and bury my face in his neck and guess when he stole my shirt because I know for a fact the one he's wearing right now belongs in my closet. Which is really fucking stupid.

Was this how crushes worked? You just felt all right and wrong at once? And you wanted them to be happy and with you but if they were you got nervous and scared and hoped you didn't throw up? I never felt like this with other crushes. Granted I was 12 last time I liked a person and that was already hormonal breakdown inducing enough.

We finally finish the recording and I want nothing more than for him to get off of me and let me sulk in my bedroom for a few hours about how much I liked his face. Little asshole couldn't even let me do that.

"You have to carry me inside up to my room now. I haven't used my legs in so long that I forgot how to walk," he said his hair rubbing on my cheek as he leaned forward. It was so soft and...the little shit stole my shampoo too. I considered telling him exactly what I would do to ensure he would never remember how to walk again but thought better of it. Instead I just huffed, "Fine," and fulfilled my pack mule duties.

We got to his room and I let go of his legs, however his legs did not let go of me. He's not heavy, I could carry him all day, hell, I would if he'd let me but that's cheesy and gross so I'd never ask. Regardless, we couldn't stay like this all day.

"Umm, you coming down?" I asked, "We made it to your room." All he did was knot his fingers into my shirt and say in a small, quiet, and annoyingly cute voice, "The floor is lava."

Motherfucker! Does he not realise I don't have time for this? I have some bedsheets that I need to hide under forever and he wants to keep being the cutest godamn thing this side of the galaxy! Almost makes a guy not want to hibernate in his room because his feelings are so reminiscent of 90's boy band love songs.

I made my way to his bed and promptly plopped him onto his mattress. "Thanks," he said and I turned around to say it was of course no big deal even though it was very much a big deal. But what I saw made me almost swallow my own tongue because he was just laying there sprawled across his bed. His blue hair messy and out of place, his skin flushed from being in the sun, his fucking shirt half way up his torso and being really hard not to stare at. It was damn near pornographic and I wasn't sure if I was supossed to throw his blanket over him to hide him from the world or me. Either way I couldn't keep standing there not saying anything when those turquoise eyes were trying to forge a path to my very core. So instead I said,

"Is that my shirt?" He looked down at himself and pulled the shirt away from his body. "Oh yeah. It is." Not a single hint of surprise. My brain didn't know what to think of someone who willingly put on your clothes and looked much better than you in them, but another part of me did and I needed to book it before said part got me into a lot of fucking trouble.

"Do you want it back?" He asked as he undid one of the buttons. Nope, nope, so much fucking nope! This annoying little punk has to be doing it on purpose. There's no other way I would find him this disgustingly attractive!

"Don't worry about it," I said as I made a beeline for the door. I needed out before I either busted a nut or vomited. "Hey Tyler," he said from behind me. Do I dare turn back? I glanced backwards to see him still on display like a tray of the finest confections. "Thanks for the ride."

I tried to casually leave his room without slamming his door. I also tried to calmly get to mine. Now that I was in the safety and Ethan-less space of my bedroom I could collapse against my door and slide to the floor in peace. I was smiling and feeling like a lovestruck shit which was all sorts of uncomfortable and weird. Yes, he's definitely doing it on purpose.