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After returning from Youth Group, he closed the bedroom door behind himself. He took a seat on the bench in the bay window and tried to blend into the room. A secret observer, unless you looked directly at him. It seemed to him, to be the perfect spot for people watching. For what few people there were in Tynan. Unfortunately, most of his view was of the small gas station across the street. Mostly Soccer Moms in SUVs and minivans getting their tanks filled. Kids cut across from Uncle Joe’s to get their candy fix with whatever cash they had left over after ice cream.
He sat there in silence for a while until a truck pulled up to the pump closest to the street. He felt his heart pick up an extra beat and he couldn’t look away from Tyler stepping out of it. He was talking to someone, smiling. A curly haired ginger sitting in the passenger side got out and began washing the windows while the attendant saw to the pump. Dylan hated the pang of jealousy that swelled, followed by confusion. Why did it bother him so much that Tyler was driving around the ho-dunk little town with some guy he’d pulled off the Scottish Highlands? They’d only spent a couple non-committal hours together the night before. The guy may have just been a friend.
Almost as soon as the idea had entered his head, Tyler took the squeegee from Red and leaned in to kiss him. Right in the middle of the gas station island. Dylan saw Red grin, accept the kiss briefly, then make a hard shove, pushing Tyler into the side of the truck.
Well shit. The asshole had a boyfriend. He didn’t know why that surprised him. Tyler was hot. It was natural that he’d have someone. And a few more on the side too. Red wasn’t exactly awful himself. He probably had some fun on the side too. In fact, he could picture the two of them having some side-fun together.
After the attendant turned off the pump and was finishing up, Tyler happened to look up. Dylan shirked back into the curtains. Too late. He’d seen him. Tyler’s face broke into an even wider grin than Red had been able to inspire. After an exchange of words, Red went into the gas station. Tyler jogged across the street to his window.
He tapped gently on the glass and Dylan leaned forward to let it swing open.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“Recovering,” Dylan replied simply. “You?”
“Heath and I were just hanging out after jamming with a friend.”
“Is that hick-code for a threesome?”
Tyler laughed. “No, jeez! Get your mind out of the gutter. We’re a band. Getting pretty popular too.”
“That’s cool. But you know it’s never a good idea to fool around with your band mates. I mean, Fleetwood Mac, anyone?”
“Your classic rock knowledge impresses me, but also I think you have the wrong idea about Heath.”
“Do I?” Even Dylan didn’t like the chill to his voice.
“He’s my best friend.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not exactly a social butterfly, but I’m pretty sure friends don’t typically shove their tongues down each other’s throats.”
“Don’t they? I seem to recall us doing something similar not that long ago.”
“What makes you think that us doing it one time makes us friends?”
Tyler wasn’t at all bothered by the tone. “Just the fact that while I have the feeling you object to the whole domestic thing, you’re fully on board for a fuck buddy. And that involves friendship.”
“Who said I had any intention of sleeping with you again?”
“Your face in post coital bliss.” Tyler teased. “Besides, you want to have a good time in Tynan, you’re going to have to get at least one friend. And I can tell you, your cousins aren’t going to get you anywhere near the kind of fun you’re used to.”
Dylan scoffed. “I’m supposed to be here to quit drinking.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “No drinking.”
“No drugs either.”
“No drugs,” Tyler confirmed. “Which leaves your last vice; sex. You already know I’m golden.”
Dylan’s stomach fluttered in anticipation. Without even straining to think it, he could feel the beat of rain on his bare skin again. “All right, fine. When?”
“I love that you’re more concerned with time rather than place.”
“I like to live dangerously.”
“Obviously,” Tyler nodded. Then he leaned forward, crossing his arms on the sill. “My sister is at her boyfriend’s tonight. Let me go drop Heath off at home. I’ll swing back in ten minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“You going to tell Auntie Z?”
Dylan snorted. “They’re probably in bed already. They won’t even know I’m gone.”
“Until you stumble in tomorrow morning?”
Dylan smiled, in spite of himself, “You going to keep me entertained for that long?”
“I’ll try my damndest,” Tyler confirmed.
“We’ll see what happens.” Dylan glanced up at the gas station. “Your friend is waiting for you.”
Tyler turned to look, “So he is. I’ll be back in ten. Maybe less.” He reached up, grabbing the front of Dylan’s shirt. He tugged him downward, pressing their lips together. Dylan rose slowly as he was released.
“What was that?”
“Just a reminder that the wait is worth it. See you soon.”
In the less than ten minutes that Tyler was gone, Dylan changed his shirt. He pulled off his necklaces, laying them out on the top of the dresser. He also took a minute to wash his face and didn’t reapply any of the make-up. He kept on the bracelets though; they were his fiddling security. And the rings stayed out of habit too.
“You changed,” Tyler noted as he climbed into the seat vacated by the redhead. “And no make-up.”
“I figured you were just going to rub it all off anyway,” Dylan told him.
“I like the nude look better,” Tyler replied. “You look less...” he wasn’t sure how to state it, “overly dramatic without it.”
“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”
He was nervous, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. It wasn’t as if it were his first venture into living dangerously. Hell, in a small town it was probably more likely that Tyler was a budding serial killer. After all, most killers were personable and well liked, weren’t they? Although, he supposed, Tyler was much too gorgeous to be a murderer. Either way, he tried memorize the route he took from the Donaldson’s to the strange house, just a couple of blocks away.
Tyler pulled the truck into a two-car garage. It was sparse; a few basic tools above a work bench on the wall near the door. There were a myriad of plastic Rubbermaid totes with masking tape labels such as “Christmas” and “Old Clothes–Dad”. Dylan got out of the truck and followed Tyler into the short entry hall where they kicked off their shoes before moving further into the house. The juxtaposition between Tyler’s home and the Donaldson’s was astounding. The pictures were of a happy family. Young Tyler staring out from between an older couple, before suddenly the pictures changed to just him and the pretty brunette that must have been his sister.
“It’s just you and your sister?” Dylan asked, examining a photo from Tyler’s graduation.
“Yep. My parents died in a car accident when I was thirteen. Rachel was a freshman in college. She took some time off to take care of me.”
“Oh. Shit.” It suddenly dawned on him that Tyler was the Tyler from Joe’s share at the group earlier. He felt his neck redden with embarrassment.
Tyler continued into the kitchen and toward the fridge. “It was a long time ago. Heath’s parents helped out a lot. We went through a bit of a self-destructive phase together. We out grew it by senior year though. We knew if we ever wanted to be serious with our music, we’d have to do it clean.
“You want a drink? I’ve got three kinds of juice, milk, water, or I could make coffee.” Tyler leaned up, cracking open an unlabeled bottle of water.
“Water is fine,” Dylan replied. “Better not get dehydrated.”
Tyler grabbed another bottle and handed it over. Dylan took it, feeling a shiver run through him as their fingers touched.
“So, how was your first full day in Tynan?”
“Complete shit.” Dylan twisted open his bottle and took a sip.
“The natives aren’t treating you well?”
“The people are fine in general. It’s mostly Herr Zoe that’s making my life miserable.”
“Ah,” he nodded, “Mrs. Jesus is getting you down?”
“She thinks I should suddenly be some kind of saint because I’m getting clean. She’s making me go to church for the Addicts meeting and Youth Group. Pretty sure Pastor John Michael is going to be the tipping point of my sobriety.”
“That’s a bummer.” Tyler grinned, leaning down to kiss him softly. Dylan felt that warmth flow through him again as Tyler’s tongue lazily lapped at his lips. They parted under the teasing to allow him to probe inside. He dipped his fingers into the back pockets of Dylan’s jeans, and the younger man felt him frown against his lips. “What’s this?” He pulled out the card that Joseph had given him earlier. “Oh. You met Joe.”
“Yeah, at the meeting.” Dylan took the card back. He replaced it in his pocket. “And one of the librarians was there, some old musician, and a guy that works at the auto shop? Uh, I’m not sure I’m actually supposed to say that now that I think about it.”
Tyler bit his tongue. “Joe. He’s a nice guy.”
“Is he?”
“He made his mistakes,” Tyler replied. “He’s doing what he can to move on.”
“I didn’t realize he was talking about you and your sister until just now.”
Tyler forced a small smile as he calmly backed away, holding out his hand. “It’s not a big deal. It’s been a long time since then. How about we go to my room and forget about it?”
“Uh, Tyler?” Dylan didn’t hesitate to take the man’s hand, letting him lead him through the house. “There’s something I should tell you before we hook-up again. I should have told you the other night, but it was so quick.”
“Are you clean?”
It wasn’t a drug question and Dylan felt mortified by it. “Of course. I’m not stupid!”
“Good. Me too by the way. What is it then?”
“I’m only sixteen.”
Tyler stopped, dropping his hand and whipping around. Had been about to open a door that was plastered with clippings of bands that Dylan had never heard of. “What?”
“I’m sorry.” Dylan turned red again, now embarrassed for a whole new reason. “I don’t want to get you into trouble. I should have been up front with you.”
“You’re sixteen,” Tyler repeated. “I fucked a sixteen-year-old?”
“Uh huh.”
“Well shit,” Tyler rubbed his hand on his face. “I thought you were at least eighteen, but I guess I should have done my research, huh? You older or younger than Pete?”
“Younger, by about two months.”
“Jesus,” Tyler took a step back from him, as though his age was catching.
“Would it have made a difference if I was older?” Dylan felt irked and self-conscious now. “It’s not that big of a deal. My parents know I’m sexually active. I go to a clinic every six weeks for testing. They know the kinds of guys I hook up with.” Maybe it was the horrified look on Tyler’s face that was making him tell all. Or perhaps it was that he’d been looking forward to having a friend.
“What kinds of guys do you hook up with?”
Dylan heaved a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair, “Older guys, usually. Twenty-one to thirty. Mostly guys I meet in clubs. Whoever will have me, I guess.”
Tyler’s face softened considerably. Pity maybe? That almost made him madder than the horror. He wanted a hook-up, not a pity fuck.
“Do you really think of yourself that way?”
“What way?” Dylan pasted on his best defiant look.
“That you’re just some worthless piece of ass that anyone can have?”
“Wasn’t that clear by how fast I got into your truck last night? Besides, what else is a fuck-up like me good for?”
“You don’t strike me as a fuck-up at all. On the contrary, you seem independent, well plotted. You don’t take shit. You just lack...”
“Self-preservation?” Dylan filled in. “Yeah, I get that a lot from the guys who think they want to get into my head. I’m not here for a shrink. Are we going to fuck or am I going home?”
Tyler bit his lip, feeling very conflicted. Before the whole series of revelations, he’d been more than happy to introduce the little emo to his sheets, but now? He wasn’t so sure. Not that the desire didn’t flare up with one glace at the kid. He was sexy as hell, but he couldn’t help but feel he was taking advantage of him. That was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Do you want to have sex with me, or are you here because you think I want to?”
“Don’t you?”
“Sure, but if you want to hang out and watch a movie, that’s fine. No pressure. I don’t know. I don’t want any part in making you feel like you’re worthless.”
“Christ,” Dylan sighed, “I didn’t sneak out for a lecture on my behavior and psychosis. I get enough of that from my parents.”
“Dylan,” Tyler closed the space between them, tilting the teen’s face up to his, “you’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. I hate to hear you put yourself down. You’re not a fuck-up or worthless.”
“You don’t know me well enough to say that.” Dylan reached up to take Tyler’s wrists, but didn’t pull his hands away. Instead, he held them in place, enjoying the feel of the calloused skin against his.
“I want to. Does that count for anything?”
Dylan sighed, pushing Tyler’s hands away. “Shit. You’re too good, Tyler Norse.”
Tyler didn’t let him pull away, lacing their fingers together, “Yeah, probably. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still have a little fun.”
“You going to get over the whole underaged thing?”
“You swear I’m not going to end up in jail?”
“I won’t send you there,” Dylan looked incredulous. “You’re probably the only other gay guy in this town.”
“Well, the most easily persuaded maybe,” Tyler admitted. “Your Aunt Zoe isn’t going to come after me, is she?”
“Would it make you feel better if I asked my parents to chat with her? I can’t promise anything. I think she’d have an aneurism if Pete or Sarah were having sex,” he rolled his eyes.
“Who says they aren’t?”
“You know something I don’t?” Dylan raised an eyebrow.
“Just that Pete isn’t in extra curricular's for his college apps, and Sarah has about three boys wrapped around her little finger.”
“She’s a girl. That doesn’t mean anything.”
Tyler grinned. “Maybe. Maybe not.” He gently tugged the boy closer still, letting his hands run up his bare arms to his shoulders. “You ready? Any other mindfucks to toss my way?”
“I don’t think so.”
“And you want to do this?”
“I wouldn’t have let you pick me up in your shitty truck to go two blocks at nine on a Wednesday night if I didn’t want to.”
“Good,” he nodded, “then we can go into my room. But if you change your mind at any time, tell me. I want you to enjoy it as much as I do.” He grasped the door knob in one hand, pushing it open as he leaned down to kiss him softly. He led him by the lips into the room. The door swing closed behind them. Dylan didn’t want to ruin the moment by taking a look around, but from what he could gather from the corners of his view, Tyler was a bit of a slob. They stepped around a mound of clothes and Tyler sat on the edge of the bed, drawing the teen closer. His lips brushed the slender curve of his neck and Dylan hissed through his teeth as Tyler bit; harder than necessary, in to the sensitive pale skin.
“Ow! Was that a test? Trying to get me to show some concern for my personal wellbeing?”
“No,” Tyler’s tongue flicked at the spot in a soothing manner, “I just like hearing you make that noise.”
“Sadist.”
“Did it hurt, Dyl?” Tyler crooned, pulling him on top of him. The mattress whumping beneath them.
“A little,” he admitted. “I’m not really into biting, Ty.”
“Well, I can think of something you’ll be into,” Tyler promised. “No more teeth.”
“Tyler?” Dylan pressed a hand to the older boy’s chest.
“I kind of liked it when you called me Ty. Only a few people call me that.” He brushed his fingers around the edges of Dylan’s features.
“Ty, then.”
“What?” His thumb moved over Dylan’s pink, kissable lips.
“I do want to, you know, fuck, but...”
“But?” He coaxed. Now his hands were pinching Dylan’s hardening nipples beneath the fabric of his shirt.
“Uh, shit,” Dylan squeezed his eyes closed. Tyler’s mouth found his throat again, laying soft kisses over the still smarting skin.
“Tell me.”
“No, I like what you’re doing.”
“But it isn’t what you want.” Tyler stopped, making even his own inner-self scream out in frustration.
“Yes, it is.” Dylan fought to find the words. “Can we just kiss for a little while? You’re an amazing kisser.”
“You aren’t bad yourself,” Tyler mused. “You sure you just want to make out?”
“To start,” Dylan requested. “I’ll cue you when we can scoot into the heavier stuff.”
“Good deal,” Tyler agreed. “But let’s get more comfortable.” He sat up and moved to sit up in the pillows. Dylan joined him, letting himself get wrapped up in Tyler’s muscular arms. Without wasting any time, they got back to business.