by Lynn VanDorn
Tyler kept an eye on those fists, took a deep breath, and tossed Mount Josh a virgin sacrifice to try and appease him. “I'm sorry,” he said.
Mount Josh stopped smoking. “What?”
“You heard me. I apologize. I'm sorry I blew up at you. You said something that set me off. That thing about trying to fix me and my problems—it's not your job, okay?”
Mount Josh was back to being stony and silent, but at least he wasn't erupting, so Tyler soldiered on. “But I still shouldn't have lost my temper, and I'm sorry for that.”
Still no reaction from Josh.
“I could get down on my knees to apologize if you want.”
“How the hell would that help?” Ah, finally a response. Thank God.
“Generally, getting on my knees tends to smooth over most arguments.”
Josh eyed him. “You are trouble.”
“Yes, Josh. I did warn you. It's kinda my thing.”
“It doesn't have to be,” he said, all sanctimonious again.
“Look, I need to stop cutting and possibly get a better attitude, and you need to stop obsessing about my brother and pull that huge stick out of your ass. I think we can agree that we're both pretty screwed up. I mean, I'd definitely give the edge to me, but you aren't that far behind. Like you said—crazy and crazier—that's us in a nutshell. So, spare me your so-called grown-up advice. I need you to be my pretend boyfriend, not my parent, not my savior, and absolutely not my knight in shining armor. Fuck that noise.”
“Tyle …”
“It's easy to go around fixing other people's problems, isn't it? I mean, you’re a doctor, it’s what you do, I get that, but I’m not your damsel in distress or your case to solve.” He wants to be someone's hero; if you let him he'll try and slay your dragons. It wasn't like Rachel hadn't warned him.
“In the morning,” Josh said, “we can call your agent and the publicist and tell them that it's not going to work out and they'll need to find someone else.”
“No, dammit. Just stop. If I don't get to cut, you don't get to go run and hide. Because that's what you do when you can't or won't deal, isn't it? Cleaning and playing video games is just how you pass the time.”
Josh looked like he'd been slapped, and Tyler wished he’d kept his mouth shut for once in his life.
“You've known the adult me all of one day and you know that how, Tyler?” Josh asked, his voice back to being icy, and Tyler was torn between feeling shame for being caught out as a hypocrite and relief that he still hadn't pushed Josh too far. Not watching what he said while angry was nearly as bad a habit as cutting.
“No doubt the exact same way you know about my issues: Rachel and Brad. They both talk a lot. Sometimes I can't help but listen.”
“What else did she tell you?” Josh shook his head. “No. Wait. I don't want to know.”
“Good call.” Tyler nudged Josh with his shoulder. “I really am sorry. You just pushed my buttons a little, or a lot, and I pushed yours back. Which, when you think about it, is something couples do all the time when they fight. I should know. Maybe there's hope for us.”
Josh held himself stiffly beside him. “I don't know. I'm not sure we can do this. That I can. I thought that I could, but look at us. We couldn't even have one conversation without getting into a fight. That can't be a good sign.”
“Josh, I can't promise to be the best fake boyfriend ever. There's a reason I agreed to give you a shitload of money to do this for me. You should not expect nonstop sunshine and roses from me. I'm not that nice a person, and having that stupid video leaked, then dealing with the siblings, hasn't helped my mood any. Also, I have one fucker of a headache. But if you try not to be a condescending prick to me, I will do my best not to be a bitchy asshole to you. And I promise I won't open a vein and stain the marble, so you can stop worrying about it. Is it a deal?”
“Um… Tyler?”
“Yes, Josh?” Tyler leaned his head lightly along Josh’s unyielding stony shoulder. Despite the nap, he still felt very tired.
“I'm not…” Josh started to say, then stopped. “I’m probably going to say and do the wrong thing again without realizing it,” he continued. “You're kind of a walking minefield, so you're going to have to be more patient with me or this will never work. But you’re right, I was being condescending. For that, I apologize.”
Tyler huffed. Exchanging awkward and stilted apologies was better than trading barbs and insults, but only marginally. The way they were going, option four wouldn't be achieved any time this century. The idea of being friends with Josh seemed very far-fetched right now. Even option three, by far the easiest one of the bunch, was looking like a steep uphill climb. How on earth was he supposed to seduce a block of stone? “I've lost count, but I'm positive we've both reached our daily quotas for apologies, so enough already. Let's bury the hatchet, at least for now. No hard feelings?”
“Sure. No hard feelings,” Josh said, although he didn't sound conciliatory.
“You wanna kiss and make up?” Tyler threw that one out there because he figured it was worth a shot.
Josh didn't reply but, if possible, his body became even more rigid. Tyler lifted his head to look at Josh’s face, but all he could see in the dim light was a blank expression and glassy eyes. He smirked and took a guess. “You're thinking about kissing me right now, aren't you?” Maybe there was hope for option three after all.
“No,” growled Josh. Except he was. Despite everything, Josh was not indifferent. Not completely.
“Liar. Do you feel the sudden urge to go clean the bathroom? Maybe go dust something?”
“Shut up,” Josh said. He looked pissed, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to smile despite himself.
“Or maybe you just want to go hide somewhere.” Tyler leaned up so he was whispering in Josh’s ear. “Fight the urge. Be strong. I believe in you.” Then he bit Josh’s earlobe just hard enough so he could feel the press of his teeth. Tyler felt a shiver go all through Josh’s body. Okay. Now they were getting somewhere.
“Fuck you, Tyler,” Josh said, pulling away from him. “Fuck you redundantly sideways. You should check out the steak knives in the kitchen. I could’ve been wrong about how sharp they are. Just don't do it in one of the bathrooms.”
With that bit of snark, something eased within Tyler. Josh was back to making jokes. Dark, unfunny ones, but that was okay. It was a start.
“Nice!” Tyler clapped his hands together, then rubbed them briskly. “Okay, that's all sorted. First fight out of the way and no bloodshed. Go us.”
“Tyler, I think it's safe to say that you're the strangest man I've ever known.”
Tyler patted Josh’s thigh. His very nicely muscled thigh, Tyler couldn't help but notice. “You need to get out more. I feel sad for you. You are the saddest gay man in existence. Lucky for you I tumbled off a dock and into your life. This is practically going to be community service.”
“Fuck you,” Josh said again, this time with more resignation than heat.
“Perhaps one day,” Tyler said, “but not tonight. We do have homework, though, and the day isn't getting any younger. Tell you what, why don't I go take a shower and put on my jammies? I feel like ick and I smell worse. You can start a fire in the fireplace, and then we can drink booze and have a proper slumber party.”
“Jammies?” Josh asked. “Are you sure you're not a preteen girl? Are we going to paint our nails, too?”
“We can if you want to,” Tyler said. “What do you have to drink in this place?”
“Besides anything you brought over, there’s beer in the fridge, though none for you. Not with the antibiotic you're on.”
Tyler sighed. “Fine, Dr. Rosen. While I'm in the shower, go build that fire and drink a beer for me. Hell, drink two.” A drunken Josh had had no problem flirting with him last night. Tyler figured a few beers might help things along this evening.
Next order of business: attempting to seduce one grumpy, self-righteous, and
possibly not indifferent dermatologist. How hard could that be?
Well, let's see. On one hand, he’s mad at me and still pining for my brother. On the other hand, Brad let it slip that he hasn't had a boyfriend in over half a year. My odds are not spectacular, but I've gotten less likely prospects to fuck me.
Tyler went to go arm himself for battle.
Chapter 11
Josh Is Not Seduced by Tyler
Saturday, September 17th, 8:55 p.m.
Living room of an unnecessarily large rental house
Blue Lake, WI
Like the dutiful man he was, Josh went to the kitchen, got a beer out of the fridge, then set about lighting a fire in the fireplace using wood the owner had thoughtfully stacked outside. He hoped the chimney had been swept recently. Then he wondered if there was a carbon monoxide detector in the house. He looked around and found it, but figured he should crack a few windows just in case.
That done, he went and sat on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. Both Rachel and his mom would have yelled at him for that, but neither was around. Then it occurred to him that anyone who thought white marble bathrooms were a good idea probably wouldn't want his feet on the table, either, so he took them down.
Josh realized he was nervous, which was silly. He had no reason to be nervous of Tyler. On the other hand, he seemed to have a hair-trigger temper and, with all that talk about “homework,” apparently was hell-bent on seducing him. Josh still wasn't sure how he felt about that, other than worried. The idea seemed all kinds of wrong, seeing as how Tyler was Ryan and Brad’s baby brother. Even thinking about sex with Tyler was a bad idea. Yes. But.
That “but” was the problem. There was a bit of Josh, centered around the part of his brain that controlled his dick, no doubt, that couldn't help but wonder if being seduced by Tyler would be so awful. He was attractive, if not conventionally handsome, and Josh hadn't gotten laid in months. Maybe…
No, I am not going there.
Well… perhaps.
This is an extremely stupid, terrible idea. He's Ryan’s brother, for fuck’s sake.
Yeah, and Ryan had pretty much said, “Here’s my brother, please use him to get over me,” or at least it had felt like that at the time. The raw hurt Josh had experienced earlier had since peeled away and left irritation underneath, like dead skin sloughing off a healing burn. At this point Josh felt angry enough with the entire situation he'd put himself into that he was giving serious consideration into letting Tyler try his hardest, just to see what would happen. Hell, you could even argue it was rude not to at least let the kid give it his best shot.
Josh heard the shower turn off and he looked at the clock. 9:17. He mentally went through how long it should take to dry off and dress. He wondered if Tyler would shave, then got his answer when he heard the buzz of his electric razor and then a hair dryer. That puzzled him for a second, because Josh didn't own a hair dryer, and the last time he'd heard one it had been when he'd still been living at home with his parents. Eventually there was silence, but the door to the bathroom remained closed. Josh noted it was 9:35. He decided he'd wait ten more minutes, then knock on the door and hope that what was behind it wasn't stained marble and a still, pale figure collapsed on the floor.
Why the hell had he agreed to this insane plan again? Boredom and pissiness and prurient curiosity, pretty much, not to mention some of that savior crap Tyler had accused him of. This was shaping up to be one of the dumbest things he'd ever gotten himself into, and that included having Brad as his roommate.
Josh finished his first beer, then went and got another. As he drank it, he clicked the bottle lightly against his teeth to the rhythm of his anxiety.
9:40.
9:41.
9:42.
The bathroom door creaked open and Josh straightened up, pulling himself out of the slouch he’d fallen into on the couch. Trying to appear casual, he took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and yawned. It was far too early to go to bed, but he was exhausted from the previous night. He closed his eyes, glasses held in one hand, and stretched. He felt something settle on his left thigh. He wondered if Oliver had come out of hiding and decided to be friends.
He knew the answer to that almost at once, even without opening his eyes. The weight was too heavy, too hard, and besides, Josh could smell him. Soap (Josh’s) and aftershave (not Josh’s) and sandalwood from his shampoo.
Josh put his glasses back on and looked down at Tyler’s head in his lap. “Hey,” he said. “Make yourself at home already.”
Tyler gazed up at him. “Thank you, I have. Are you ready for your homework? Fair warning, there is a distinct possibility that I might fall asleep on you. I didn't realize how tired I was until I got in the shower. Also, if I haven't said so earlier, I really like your glasses.” He made a throaty noise that was a fair imitation of a purr.
Josh figured that Tyler hadn't bathed since his dunking in the lake last night, but hadn't realized how ridden hard and put away wet Tyler had previously appeared until seeing him now, clean and shaven and dressed in clothes that weren't three sizes too big for him. He still didn't look precisely bright-eyed or bushy-tailed, but he no longer looked like a disreputable, grubby elf, either. He was transformed, or so it seemed. Josh’s brain scrambled to make sense of it while his mouth moved on autopilot.
“I like my glasses, too,” he said, “because they allow me to see.”
“Always so serious,” Tyler said with a pout. Josh reminded himself that there were sharp teeth behind those sulky lips, but it was easy to become distracted. Tyler’s mouth should, by all rights, be illegal, or at least come with some sort of Surgeon General’s warning: beware, staring too long at Tyler Chadwick’s mouth may cause serious lapses in judgment.
“Are you trying to seduce me?” Like it wasn't obvious what Tyler was up to.
Tyler gave him a Cheshire grin. “Possibly. Is it working?”
Josh wobbled his hand back and forth, and Tyler snorted a laugh. “What am I going to do with you, Tyler?”
“I'm sure you'll think of something. People always do.” Josh didn't doubt that one bit. He was in trouble. Lots and lots of trouble.
Tyler might not have been Josh’s normal type, but that didn't really matter, because all cleaned up and lying like a present on his lap, Tyler was stunning in a very literal way. Just looking at him, Josh felt like he'd been hit on the head with a brick.
Tyler wasn't handsome, like Ryan or the men he normally dated. Not merely cute, either. He'd been wrong about that. Tyler was even a step beyond pretty. The word that sprang to his mind was lovely, and even that wasn't quite right, but it was all his muddled brain could come up with, and it seemed wrong to toss Tyler off his lap just to go find a thesaurus.
Tyler’s hair fell softly around his finely boned face and onto Josh’s lap, now silky instead of clumpy with product and lake water. His brows were a rich brown and gracefully arched. His chameleon eyes, now a soft bluish-gray very like the fading strands of his hair, were framed by dark curling lashes. The kind of eyelashes that made women frown and say they were wasted on a man, but Josh begged to differ with them on that. Tyler’s mouth was curved into a sweet smile, his lips looking like they'd taste of sugar and sin. But what drew Josh’s eye, more than any other feature, was Tyler’s skin. It was clear and pale and perfect. Josh figured Tyler must bathe in sunscreen to live in California and still have skin like that. He wanted, more than anything he’d wanted in a very long time, to stroke it.
Tyler was well on his way to seducing him, and they'd barely touched each other. This was bad. Josh’s heartbeat felt heavy and ominous in his chest.
I am in so much trouble.
How had he not noticed this before? First there had been surprise, then fear, and of course he’d been more than a little drunk. Then this morning there had been Rachel and Brad taking up his attention, and finally Ryan, who tended to eclipse anyone and everyone. Meanwhile Tyler had been there, all the time talking, but
appearing smaller and drabber in Josh’s memory. Ordinary despite the hair. Small and unremarkable and cute in his too large borrowed clothing. Josh had looked at him but not seen this. How was that even possible? But here was the man who was in movies, the one who could maybe one day be a star.
“Hey, are you okay?” Tyler asked.
No. No, I am not.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” Josh said, and drank more of his beer. “You look like a pretty princess,” he said, aiming for derisive but not quite making it.
One fine dark brow rose. “You think so?”
Josh shrugged. “You clean up well. Also, the t-shirt helps.” Along with gray plaid pajama bottoms, Tyler now wore a pink shirt that spelled out “Self-Rescuing Princess” in rainbow glitter.
“I wore it just for you. I'm not the type to wait in a tower for my Prince Charming,” he said. “Just so you know.”
“Okay, your highness, I'll try and remember that,” Josh said, then yawned, even though sleeping was the last thing on his mind at that moment.
“You seem pretty tired. We could go straight to bed. Even if it is a shame to waste this fire.”
“Separate beds?” Josh asked, and Tyler shook his head. “That’s what I thought. I'm not sure I'm ready for that level of coursework.”
“That’s what I'm here for,” Tyler said. “You’ve got a big test tomorrow, and I'm your tutor. We are going to study so hard.”
That made Josh laugh, even if it was mostly from nerves. He took his glasses off to rub his eyes again, and felt them plucked out of his hand. He leaned his head back and sighed when he felt Tyler straddle his hips and perch on his thighs. “You’re far too old to sit on my lap,” he said, and opened his eyes.
Tyler was close enough that he wasn't blurry even without glasses. His lips curved in a slight smile. “I am the perfect age to sit on your lap,” he said. “Now, let's get to know each other better.” He leaned forward and kissed Josh.