Wednesday morning Brendon woke up earlier than usual, even before his alarm. He drags his feet along the floor and walks to the kitchen, stomach grumbling roughly in hunger.
His back still aches from the couch at his mother's, his mind sitting on the fine line between overwhelmed and ease.
Confessing to her-- or whatever else it could be called-- was alright. It was nice talking about Tyler, no matter how short lived it was. Their name needed to breathe, and it hadn't been able to until then. The only times he'd talk about them was with Josh, but that wasn't enough.
It's never going to be enough.
Not until he tells Carina. Not until he tells Luke.
Brendon opens the refrigerator, seeing only condiments, eggs, and lunch meat.
He sighs, reaching for the eggs.
He should have gone grocery shopping by now; all that's left in the cabinets is bread, a few more bags of ramen noodles, macaroni and cheese, and a box of white shells and cheddar.
Brendon knows he procrastinates too much. He does it with everything, from cleaning his apartment, and getting groceries, to bigger things like texting Tyler, or even telling his friends about them.
He's not proud of it, either.
Brendon wanted nothing more than to be open about his life. Confident. Tell people whatever he's thinking solely because he can.
But he doesn't. He won't, no. Not until he's comfortable, not until he understands.
He'll have to get groceries after work.
Brendon pulls out a small frying pan and butter, eggs will just have to do.
Pulling an one out, he remembers Tyler last Friday teaching him how to crack it with one hand. Reminiscing makes him blush, recalling how close they were together, hands and bodies pressed together. He clears his throat, shaking his head, and carefully hitting the egg against the pan. Lift your fingers, the whisper remains hidden in the shell of his ear. He does, watching the yolk fall into the pan with no shell.
He's smiling in a small manner, proud.
The next ten minutes or so he stands at the stove with drowsy eyes and swollen lips, making himself scrambled eggs and cracking each of them with one hand, not bothering with salt or pepper.
Deciding to put everything away once finished eating, he sits down at his small, foldable table.
There is two chairs, and one person.
Two chairs, with three people who will need seats.
Brendon's home is a lot different than Tyler and Josh's. Brendon's home. . . Isn't a home. He doesn't have pictures hung up of his family, or even a telivision to entertain guests. There's no food, no seats, no room, no love.
There's Brendon, and what little he has.
Looking across the table, he doesn't get to see anybody.
Nothing to look at, and no one to view. He sits alone at his table, yearning for Friday to arrive already.
He's giddy to see Josh again, and especially Tyler. He can't help but feel content where they had left off. Tyler's frame was weak but their hold was strong, and it's all Brendon needed to know everything is okay, everything is good.
Everything is as good as it can be, at least.
Brendon takes his time getting ready this morning, aching, but bandaged.
YOU ARE READING
Loyalty (JoshxBrendonxTyler)
FanfictionBrendon wanted something but was never willing to push himself, until he finally does. As a last resort he downloads Tinder, and who he matched with has something a little different in mind, but Brendon isn't one to say no. - (Non-binary!Tyler)
