by Lynn VanDorn
Tyler flashed back to when he'd sat next to Josh in his car in an anonymous driveway in Wisconsin, having that senseless fight. Tyler had had the sudden epiphany that Josh was angry because he wanted to fuck Tyler and was feeling thwarted because he thought Tyler wasn't interested. This was like that, but worse. A lot worse.
Tyler was almost sure that Josh was in love with him, or thought he was, which amounted to the same thing. Despite everything Tyler had told him last night, or maybe because of it. The good doctor seemed to have a huge hard-on for lost causes. There was that small margin of doubt, though. Tyler could be wrong. He could be reading far too much into what amounted to a nice chunk of carved rock.
He made himself smile. “So, what would you like to see next?
–—
Saturday, September 24th, 3:40 p.m.
Sitting in first class
JFK to O’Hare
On the flight back to Chicago, Tyler composed and deleted three email drafts to send to Purvi. Every time he tried to explain his problem, it sounded beyond stupid. I think this guy I've simultaneously known my whole life but also only one week is in love with me because he showed me a marble statue. Oh, and up until two days ago he'd been in love with my big brother for like two decades. Right. That didn't make sense, no matter how many times he tried to write it out. He needed to call and talk with her, but he wouldn't be able to with Josh both underfoot and always within earshot. Maybe Monday, after he'd gone back to work, but Tyler would explode if he didn't talk to someone before then, and it had to be Purvi. Sydney had already given him her two cents, talking to Ethan was out of the question, ditto either Ryan or Brad, and his mother would just give him one of her gentle and unhelpful lectures. Purvi was his best option for a confidante. Tyler was still working out whether her not knowing Josh was a point for or against her.
He deleted another email draft and dropped his phone onto his lap in disgust. Josh, engrossed in reading something on his own phone, reached over the armrest between the seats to rub Tyler’s thigh.
–—
Saturday, September 24th, 4:52
O’Hare Airport
Chicago, IL
Tyler: Need to talk to you. Hard to do it by text or email, but can't call.
Purvi: Srsly, wtf is up?
Purvi: Stop being attention whore. Spit it out.
Purvi: Fucking drama queen
Tyler: FINE.
Tyler: I'm like 90% sure Dr McDreamy is in love with me.
Purvi: Oh. Um. Marry him and have gay babbies
Tyler: Babbies?
Purvi: Babies. Asshole. Yes.
Tyler: Wait. Why are our babies gay?
Purvi: No. The babbies arent gay. Tho they might be. BUT. What I mean is they’re from you and Dr dude so they’re YOUR gay babies. Your pretty gay babies. So pretty.
Tyler: Are you drunk?
Purvi: Maybe
Purvi: Little bit
Purvi: Sorry
Purvi: I’M ON VACATION
Tyler: You're no help. Anyway, I see Ryan. Gotta go
Purvi: I can help! WE CAN FIX THINGS YES
Purvi: Sorry so shouty
Purvi: Fix later sooooo drunk
–—
Saturday, September 24th, 5:05 p.m.
O’Hare Airport
Chicago, IL
Ryan offered to pick them up at the airport and drive them home. Tyler would've turned him down, but he missed Oliver and this was the most practical way to fetch him. Even so, he couldn't suppress a groan when the airport valet brought out the Panamera.
“Really, Ryan?”
Ryan gave Tyler a look of blank innocence, then he raised an eyebrow.
“At least you didn't drag the boy toy along,” Tyler grumbled as the valet wedged their carry-on suitcases into the Porsche’s tiny trunk, not sure if Ryan heard him, but hoping he had. “I guess I'll take the backseat,” he announced in martyred tones.
Josh smirked at him. “Oh, does sitting in the back offend your royal sensibilities, princess?”
Tyler gave Josh a disgusted eye roll, then sat in the backseat after the valet opened the door for him. Before the valet closed the door, Tyler noticed the look of incredulity mixed with speculation that Ryan shot at Josh, and didn't like it one bit.
“Princess?” Ryan asked.
Josh shrugged and got into the passenger seat. Ryan stared at him for a few seconds, then paid the valet and got in behind the wheel.
“I thought the interview with Seth Meyers went well,” Ryan remarked as he pulled the car into traffic. “Although I was surprised you brought up the cutting and suicide attempt. What was that about? Dad is furious, by the way.”
“Fuck Dad,” snapped Tyler. “Like I give a shit what he thinks.” He paused, took a deep breath, then went on. “Someone got a photo of my stitches and put it out there. I must have pushed up my sleeve at some point without thinking, and it got photographed. There were insinuations about the truth in the tabloids, and Tom thought it would be best if we could garner as much sympathy as possible out of it. Am I happy about it? No. But I did what he told me to do.”
“I hope your publicist knows what he's doing, but Alicia seems to trust him, so I guess we have to as well. I'll see what I can do with Dad. How did the Entertainment Weekly interview go?”
“They dressed him up like a slut for the photo shoot,” Josh said, sounding grumpy.
“So, like a normal Thursday for him, then,” Ryan said.
Tyler kicked the back of Ryan’s seat. “Oops, sorry. My foot slipped.”
“If there's a mark on the back of my seat, Tyler, you're a dead man.”
There wasn't, but Tyler made a face at the back of Ryan's head anyway.
Josh cleared his throat. “They gave him this arrow someone had covered in silver glitter and had him pose with it. Suggestively. It was like fully clothed porn.”
Tyler couldn't stop the giggle that burst out of him. “God, for someone who told me I should consider doing porn as a backup plan, you're such a prude. The pictures were completely tasteful. It's Entertainment Weekly, for fuck’s sake.”
Ryan sounded like he stifled a laugh, but when he spoke, his voice was level. “We’ve been making some progress on the video front. Patrick has a friend who’s trying to track down the initial ISP that released the video. In the meantime, he’s been researching Michael Koenig to see what he's been up to in the past nine years.”
“Who's Michael Koenig?”
Ryan shot Josh a quick look. “Tyler’s high school guidance counselor. The one who—”
“Oh, that guy,” Josh interrupted. “You think he released the video?”
“It's a possibility. There are others as well.”
“Like who?” Josh asked.
“Dad,” Tyler said. “My money’s on Dad.”
“Really?” Josh said.
Ryan said, “No,” at the same time Tyler said, “Yes.”
“Well, that clears things up,” said Josh.
“Never mind. For now, it's all speculation. Tell me about your trip. How was New York?”
Tyler let them talk while he went through his voicemails.
“I've got to fly back home,” he announced, excited.
“But we just got… oh, you mean California. Why now?” Josh didn't sound thrilled at the prospect of his defection.
“The wedding is less than a week away,” reminded Ryan, as if Tyler could have possibly forgotten.
“When? I was going to take your stitches out on Monday,” Josh added.
“I have an invitation to read for a part in a movie on Monday,” Tyler said. “Alicia left me a voicemail. Brad can come over and remove the stitches tomorrow morning. I'll get Purvi to book me a late-afternoon flight.”
“That's great news,” Ryan said. “What's it for?”
“Some movie. I haven't seen the script yet. Alicia emailed it to me, and I'll look through it tonight. According to her, this was set in motion the day before the video shit hit the
fan and she was expecting them to want to cancel on us, but they called her today to confirm I would be there on Monday. I'm going to go and do the read through regardless of how good or bad I think the movie is going to be. I can't afford to burn any bridges right now. And don't worry. I'll be back in plenty of time for the wedding. It's not until next Saturday.”
“Do you think I should come along in my official boyfriend capacity?” Tyler couldn't tell if Josh wanted to or not.
“Probably not, unless you’re burning to come. I'll just be gone a day or two and will most likely be back by Wednesday at the latest. Anyway, you need to go back to work.”
“I could take out your stitches tomorrow,” Josh said. “You don't need Brad to do it.”
“Nah, he'll get all grumpy if I don't have him do it. It's a professional pride thing. Tell you what. You can sew me up next time.”
“There shouldn't be a next time,” growled Josh.
Ryan cleared his throat. “Well, in that case, why don't I take you straight to Josh’s condo? You can leave Oliver with me for a few more days.”
“No!” Josh’s response was loud enough to startle both Ryan and Tyler. “I mean, that won't be necessary,” he continued in a more normal tone. “I'll watch him while Tyler’s in California. That way he'll be used to the place by the time Tyler gets back. Okay?”
Tyler stared at the back of Josh’s head, and even Ryan took his eyes off the road for a few seconds to glance at Josh. “Okay. No problem,” he said. “One spoiled rotten cat, coming right up.”
–—
Sunday, September 25th, 6:32 a.m.
Josh’s very tidy bedroom
Evanston, IL
Tyler woke, curled up on his side, Oliver’s warm body near his feet, an old and familiar comfort. Behind him was Josh, who was a new and increasingly familiar comfort. There was a part of him that wished he could stay in bed with Josh all day, but he also felt too excited to go back to sleep. He had an audition tomorrow, and from what he'd been able to read of the script so far, it wasn’t terrible. No one would ever nominate the thing for an Oscar, but it would make a decent date movie and right now he couldn't afford to be picky.
Tyler glanced at the clock. It was just after 6:30. He left Josh in bed asleep and went down to the condo’s gym. Thankfully it was empty except for two other people who didn't seem to give a flying fuck about who he was. Tyler found a mat and went through his yoga routine, then eyed the treadmill with distaste. However, he was banned from swimming until the stitches were out, so he got on the damned thing and started running.
“You hate running,” Tyler heard Brad say after he'd been on the treadmill far longer than he was happy thinking about.
“No shit,” Tyler panted, “but I can't swim yet. Doctor's orders.”
“Oh, look at you, bucking for both patient and brother of the year. I had no idea you actually listened to me, let alone obeyed my orders.”
Tyler would have sighed if he'd had the breath to do so. “Fuck. You.”
“Come on. Get off that thing and come upstairs so you can take a shower and I can get those stitches out. I've got shit to do today that doesn't involve you. Rachel is going to need brunch and a gallon of mimosas after this, or she'll make my life intolerable.”
Tyler stopped the treadmill with gratitude. “What now?” he asked Brad as they walked out of the gym and headed for the elevator.
“First, we had to wade through a bunch of reporters just to get near the building. The masses have figured out where you are, FYI. Then when we got here, no one would buzz us in, and Josh wasn’t answering texts or his phone and neither were you. Rachel said, ‘Fuck it’ and used her key to get into the building and Josh’s place.”
Of course, she had a key to Josh’s place. Of course, she would just use it. “Well, Josh is a heavy sleeper and I was down here.”
Brad coughed. “Yeah. About that. Rachel marched into Josh’s bedroom and there he was, dead to the world, in a bed that had recently had another occupant and I'm not referring to Oliver.”
“Oh, God,” Tyler said.
“And then she had me go into the spare bedroom to supposedly find you, but as we both know, no one had slept in there.”
Tyler groaned.
“Meanwhile Rach woke up Josh. There was much shouting. Oliver’s hiding somewhere. And I hoped you'd be down here and hey, here you were.” Brad grinned at him. “So. It's been an eventful week for you, huh?”
“There are days when I envy only children,” Tyler said. “How nice it must be not to have siblings.”
Brad ruffled his hair like he was still twelve. “Oh, you love us. Don't deny it.”
Tyler used the key Josh had given him to open the condo’s door. “Some days it's hard to remember why.”
They walked to the kitchen where Josh and Rachel sat drinking coffee and glaring at each other. At least until Rachel caught sight of Tyler, then she transferred the evil eye to him.
“You,” she hissed. “You couldn't keep your little paws off him, could you?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Rachel,” Josh exclaimed. “Mom took the news better than you have. Why do you even care?”
Rachel slumped. “I care because I never wanted this to happen. You’re going to get hurt again, and it's going to be awkward if I have to despise my brother-in-law on your behalf.”
“You know, maybe you should have thought about that before deciding to date Brad. How do you think I felt when I found out that my sister was in love with the brother of the man who I wanted but couldn't have? Shitty, that's how. But I sucked it up because you were happy and I happen to like Brad. I think you owe me, so let this go. Tyler and I will sort things out ourselves and it has nothing to do with you, or Brad, or Ryan for that matter.”
Brad started applauding. Rachel transferred her death glare to him, but all he did was blow her a kiss. “Bravo, Josh. Way to finally grow a pair.”
“Fuck off, Brad,” Josh muttered, and stared into his coffee.
Rachel looked both hurt and murderous. Josh looked sullen and worried. Brad seemed completely unconcerned. “You,” Tyler said, poking Brad in the chest, “keep the two of them from killing each other while I take a shower. You,” he pointed at Rachel, “and I will talk after I clean up. As for you,” Tyler grabbed Josh’s chin and tilted his face up. “It’ll be fine. Stop worrying.” He leaned down to give Josh a brief kiss. “Okay?”
Josh looked dubious. “Sure,” he said, but he didn't sound particularly reassured.
“Trust me,” he said, and kissed Josh again.
Rachel huffed.
Tyler went to go take his shower. He rushed through it as quickly as he could, threw on the first clothes he grabbed out of his suitcase, and hurried out to the kitchen to rescue his…
Tyler’s brain froze in its tracks. Not boyfriend. Not really. His… Josh. Yeah. He needed to rescue Josh.
Contrary to his worries, Rachel, Josh, and Brad seemed to be having a civil conversation, albeit one about him. No one was shouting or making threats, so Tyler relaxed and got Josh to go take his own shower.
“Okay, unsew me,” Tyler said, then sat down at the kitchen table across from Rachel. Brad went to get his bag of supplies and then put water on to boil to sterilize the instruments he was going to use. While the water started to heat, he swabbed the wound on Tyler’s arm with Betadine and let it dry.
“Don't mind me,” Brad said. “Pretend I'm not here.”
Rachel shot Brad a look, then focused on Tyler. “You just had to go for option three, didn't you?”
“Option three was your brother's idea, actually.” Rachel glared at him through narrowed eyes. Josh sometimes got the same expression on his face when he was trying to figure out if Tyler was being sincere or not. “And, for the record, option four, too. It's hard not to like your brother. Even when we argue, he’s got this core of decency that… well…” Tyler sighed. “I like him.”
Having scrubbed his hands and sterilized his instruments,
Brad sat down next to Tyler and started to snip and remove the stitches.
“So,” Brad said as he worked, “what are options three and four? And are one and two relevant?”
“I thought we were pretending you weren't here,” Rachel said.
Tyler snorted. “And you bought that?” He turned to Brad. “Rachel said I had four options to deal with her precious brother. Option one was to bail on the whole plan and go it alone. Two was to go through with the plan and keep our relationship strictly professional. Three was me seducing him. Four was becoming his friend.”
“Okay. I can see how option one would have been unpopular with nine out of ten Tylers,” Brad said.
“Josh ruled it out, too. I tried twice to bail on him, but he wouldn't go for it. He's got this whole knight in shining armor thing going on.”
“See!” Rachel exclaimed. “I warned you.”
“Yeah, that’s Josh in a nutshell,” Brad agreed. “He needs to be needed. Let's see here. Option two was to be professional and just pretend a relationship existed, huh?”
“But Josh can't fake shit,” Tyler said. “Obviously.”
“Too true. So, yeah. I can see why you went for option three.”
“No, that's the thing.” Tyler ran a hand through his still-wet hair. “He picked option three. Honest to God. Although I might have nudged him in that direction. A little.” Tyler looked at Rachel and adopted an injured mien. “Your brother was hell-bent on using me to get over Ryan, and I'm sorry, but I'm not made of stone. Josh gave me these sad puppy dog eyes, and how was I supposed to resist that? If anyone got taken advantage of here, it's me.”
Rachel started to look like she felt bad, but Brad spoiled it by laughing. “What a load of horse shit. You, taken advantage of. By Josh. That's hilarious.”
“Thanks, Brad.” Brad just kept laughing.