Archive of Our Own ^beta

The problem, Josh thought, was that he just wanted it over with.

He'd figured, when he was eleven and tearing through his mom's paperback romance novels looking for the dirty parts, that that was what he wanted. He wanted someone (a girl, he'd thought then, but now he...was not so picky, frankly) to kiss him and call him sexy, and maybe — do other things with. (Again, eleven; he was clear on the mechanics, to a certain degree, but couldn't quite connect that with him ever doing it, ever.)

Then eleven turned into thirteen, and fourteen, and hello, masturbation. And that became fifteen, and nothing; sixteen, ditto.

Josh was seventeen, he was turning eighteen in less than two months, and he wanted it fucking done with.

He didn't want to worry about being a freshman in college and meeting someone and having to blurt out that no, he *hadn't* been a complete freak in high school - lie - but he'd just never gotten around to having sex, and if they could maybe be patient with him- hey, where are you going? God. He would never, ever stop stabbing himself.

The best thing, the easiest thing, was to post an ad on craigslist and see if anyone responded. Writing it had been the hard part; there was a fine line between "coy" and "cute", and he'd wanted to be the latter rather than the former, if only because "coy" implied no follow-through. Also, he'd had to talk himself out of using deliberately bad grammar and spelling; sure, he wanted to get laid, but he still had some fucking standards.

(There'd been about two days where he'd actually thought about getting a male escort or something, not from, like, a street corner — but that involved money, and probably a hotel room, which meant more money. It just seemed easier to find someone willing online.)

So he posted the ad, bought condoms as a show of good faith, and waited.

—

"How's it going?" Mark asked.

Josh tucked the phone between his shoulder and his ear and looked at his monitor. "Not great," he admitted. "There are some really fucking creepy guys out there, dude."

"I'm pretty sure I said that when you had this brilliant idea," Mark said. His voice sounded tinny through the speakers. "Regular creepy or up-next-on-Dateline creepy?"

"Well." Josh frowned at the screen. "So far, it's a couple of creepy frat guys who sound like they want to kick my ass after they're done banging me, one of the guys my dad works with, and- oh my GOD, that's Mr. Arch."

"Mr. Arch?" Mark yelled. "The ninth-grade history teacher?"

"Yeah." Josh blanched. "He's wearing a polo shirt, and ohGodohGodohGod he's not wearing any pants. Oh GOD." He'd never hit the Back button so fast in his entire life.

"Oh, fuck," Mark groaned. "That's. Oh my God, I cannot deal. I need to go throw up right now."

"You didn't have to see him." Josh made a face and deleted that one immediately. "I mean. They're not all bad, really. A couple of them are okay." He shrugged. "I'm going to send my picture out tonight, see if anyone replies."

"Probably for the best," Mark said. "I still think it's a dumb idea, dude."

"I'm tired of being a virgin," Josh said flatly. It was an old argument. Mark thought Josh should wait, at least 'til college when he could get alcohol involved; Josh thought Mark, who'd had sex with Alicia Summers in the tenth grade, should butt out unless he was saying something encouraging. "This is the best plan I could come up with that didn't involve breaking into my college fund, okay?"

"I know. I just thought I'd say it again."

Josh made a noise he hoped Mark would take for agreement, and opened his picture folder.

—

There was a reply waiting for him when he got home Friday afternoon.

A reply. With an attachment. And it wasn't from someone from Nigeria trying to help him get rich or increase his bra size.

The subject line was "re: cl (i love who i love)".

Josh swallowed and clicked on the link.

> Let's be upfront: I'm tired of being the last one standing.

so you want me to be your experiment? ive heard worse lines. ive used worse lines.

> 18, red hair, oral and j/o okay but would prefer something more.

22, i’ve got brown hair. im up for pretty much anything if you are, but we should meet somewhere (in public, duh) and figure it out.

look at the attached pics. if you want, we can meet up somewhere this weekend and talk, see what happens. if its nothing, no hard feelings; if it's something...we'll figure that out then.

—Tyler.

Okay, he had to admit that wasn't bad. Not a fan of the Shift key, but heartfelt and not overly chatty. Josh felt something in his chest relax as he opened the pictures-

-and almost swallowed his tongue.

The guy was hot. Empirically hot, even; universally hot. He had soft light hair and stubble, at least in the picture, and tan skin under his hoodie. He had the most perfect nose possible, and his expression was...Josh hadn't ever had anyone stare at him that way in real life, but he thought he knew a come-fuck-me-stare when he saw one.

Also, the picture of his dick didn't hurt matters. Josh shifted in his chair and hit Reply.

> so you want me to be your experiment? ive heard worse lines. ive used worse lines.

Experiment, my prince – I'm not picky.

> look at the attached pics. if you want, we can meet up somewhere this weekend and talk, see what happens. if

> its nothing, no hard feelings; if it's something...we'll figure that out then.

It's not nothing. Barnes & Noble, this Saturday, 4 PM?

—

Josh was at Barnes & Noble by quarter after three Saturday afternoon.

Actually, no; he was at B&N by two-thirty, sitting in his car and staring at the building like somehow he could shove time forward using the power of his mind and make Tyler be there. Then he wondered if it would be really, insanely rude to wuss out and head home. Then he wondered if he'd brought enough lube with him, because he was pretty sure one pack of condoms was enough but if he didn't have enough lube, then-

-then he thought, fuck it, and went inside. He'd gone to all the trouble of setting this whole thing up; it'd be pointless to back out just because he was freaking out about it at the last minute.

Josh got a cup of chai, settled down with the latest issue of Rolling Stone, and waited.

—

The original plan was to wait 'til four-thirty, maybe five, but Josh got wrapped up in an article about mass distortion and didn't notice until someone came up beside him and blocked his light.

"Josh?"

Josh looked up and said a little prayer of thanks he didn't have a mouthful of chai.

There he was, wearing dark jeans and a Northstar band t-shirt under a black zip-up. His soft hair was long and curled over to one side, and his jaw was shaven clean. There was a gap of maybe an inch between the hem of his shirt and the top of his jeans; Josh didn't want to talk about it.

Josh swallowed and put the magazine down. "I'm. Um. Yeah. Yeah, I am."

The guy smiled and sat down across from him. "I'm Tyler," he said. He cradled a paper cup of coffee in his hand, and he looked — actually, he looked about as nervous as Josh felt. Josh relaxed.

"Yeah, I figured." Josh smiled. "Total strangers don't just come up to me and start talking, so."

"This part's always weird," Tyler agreed. "Just in general, I mean. Coming up to anyone and just...starting a conversation. Like you know them. 'Hi, please ignore that we've never met before.'" He took a sip of coffee. "So did you want to talk, or-"

"Yes!" Josh said quickly, and coughed. "Um. Yeah, no, that'd be cool."

Tyler grinned. He had a really, really nice smile, Josh noticed, and told himself it didn't matter. He was looking for orgasms, not orthodontics. "Okay." He warmed his hands against the paper cup. "Um. I'm 22, and I'm a political science major when I'm not playing music."

"Really?" Josh hoped he didn't sound too eager, but come on: music. Might as well have installed a button and pushed it. "What kind?"

"Eh… i couldn't tell you, honestly, but it’s landed me in the hardcore scene and I'm thinking about moving away from that towards something more mainstream." Tyler took a sip and made a face, then added a little more sugar. "It's not really fun watching the guys you're opening for yell 'I'm gonna kick a faggot's ass tonight, who's with me?' ten minutes after you got done blowing someone in the bathroom, you know?"

"Not really," Josh admitted, "but I get the idea." He played with his straw. "Do you go to Ohio State, or-"

Tyler shook his head. "Otterbein. I was gonna go to Ohio State on a basketball scholarship, but I fucked up my knee last quarter of senior year." He made a face. "You should have seen it. I had bleached hair for a moment. God, it was a nightmare."

"They probably loved the tattoos," Josh said, and closed his mouth with a click. God, that was so fucking lame.

"I got most of those after I turned 18." And thank you Jesus, Tyler looked more amused than irritated. "So are you satisfied?"

Josh blinked at him. "With-"

"That I'm not a serial killer." Tyler's gaze was clear. "I mean, Jesus, not that I blame you. I suggested meeting in public for a reason, you know?"

Josh swallowed hard, then made himself laugh. "Well, you don't seem to be wearing a suit of human skin, so."

"I only wear the human skinsuit at Christmas," Tyler said seriously. "For the kids."

Josh felt something in his stomach relax. Hot and with a sense of humor. He could do worse, for his first time. "You know kids," he said. "They like it when adults dress up."

Tyler grinned. "So do you want to go?"

Oh, look. Tension was back. "I don't- um. Do you have any idea where we should go?"

"Oh, yeah," Tyler said, nodding. "I got a hotel room, set up candles, put out rose petals-"

Josh's eyes went huge.

Tyler grinned. "I'm kidding. My family's out of town for the weekend. We can go to my house."

God, there wasn't any preamble at all, was there? But then, that was what he wanted: no strings, guilt-free, mostly-anonymous sex with someone fairly attractive who wasn't opposed to short, slightly-balding seventeen-year-olds who cared more about analyzing Death Cab for Cutie records than someone's tit or dick size. He stood and reached for his jacket. "Yeah, that's. Okay." He nodded.

"Good." Tyler wasn't smiling, but his eyes were light and he was biting his lower lip. He looked remarkably twitchy.

I get to kiss him soon, Josh thought, and tried very hard not to walk into the table.

—

The drive back wasn't long at all, fifteen minutes with traffic, but the whole way Josh fought the urge to turn around and just forget the whole thing.

Maybe Tyler didn't want to kiss. Maybe he just wanted to have sex. And it wasn't like they'd discussed kissing, and Tyler hadn't brought it up, so maybe, probably, he didn't want to, and holy Christ he had no idea what he was doing.

He was so busy freaking out, he almost missed the turn. Then he parked down the street, maybe a block away, and took ten deep, even breaths. It was fine. It was fine. If Tyler didn't want kissing, then he didn't want kissing; it wasn't a deal-breaker. Josh counted to ten in his head, then twenty, then got out of his car and loped back to Tyler's house.

Tyler was waiting by the front door, keys in hand. "Hey," he said. "You could have parked in the driveway, you know." He still looked amused.

"Oh." Josh coughed and willed himself not to blush. "Um. I can move it, if you want-"

"It's fine," Tyler said, waving it off. "It's not like we're going anywhere, right?"

"Yeah." Josh shifted and tried not to look too eager. His backpack felt weighted down, suddenly, like the condoms were too heavy. Or maybe the lube. Change of clothes, in case things got too messy; twenty-dollar-bill, in case he needed cab fare for some reason, even though he drove; porn, if maybe Tyler needed a reason to get excited. He'd felt so mature when he was packing it, like he was responsible and logical, but now he just felt sort of. Stupid.

"Don't mind the dogs," Tyler said, opening the front door. "They might growl, but they're big pussies. Aren't you, honey?" he coos, reaching down and scratching under the black lab's jaw. "Yes, yes you are."

Josh closed the front door and dropped down. "Who's a pretty boy?" he said, petting the dog hard. The dog grinned at him happily. "What's his name?"

"Mickey." Tyler made a face. "I don't know. My dad got him." He looked at Josh. "You want something to drink? I'm not much for alcohol, but there's probably wine around here somewhere..."

"No, that's.. I don't drink, so." Tyler had dogs. He was so, so fucked. He'd started getting half a crush on Tyler back in B&N, somewhere around "political science", and this wasn't helping him at all. Josh was starting to think he could've done better with the guy who'd said his name was Hans. At least he only wanted pictures of Josh's feet.

When Josh looked up, Tyler was leaning on the kitchen island, watching him. Josh felt himself flush. "I'm, um. I'm-" He snapped his mouth shut. What the hell was he going to say?

Tyler grinned. "Come on," he says, and reached out a hand to help Josh up. He didn't let go when Josh was on his feet, just squeezed his hand and led him towards the stairs.

"This is my room," Tyler said, opening the door. "I'd make some joke about this being where the magic happens, but I don't love ripping off Cribs."

Josh blinked. "Those are twin beds," he said stupidly. "I mean. There's two beds. With a table between them."

It looked a lot like his own room at home, except instead of David Bowie in Labyrinth Tyler had a poster of The Postal Service

The walls were cream, and the CD towers looked overflowing. The comforter on top of the bed was plaid. It didn't look like a den of sin, let alone the place he'd dreamed of losing his virginity, but it looked okay.

"Yeah," Tyler said slowly. He kicked his shoes off. "Want to see a magic trick?" He motioned Josh out of the way and shoved the table to the front, then scooted the beds together.

"Nice," Josh said helpfully. He stared at the suddenly-very-large bed.

Tyler walked over. His socks were black with pumpkins on them, Josh noticed, and swallowed, looking up. They were the same height, he noticed suddenly, or close enough that their eye-lines were almost the same.

"That's better." Tyler smiled. "I thought you were about to have an aneurysm on me."

"I don't know," Josh said weakly. "Still might."

The smile became a grin. "So what do you like?"

That earned a blank stare. "What do I like?"

"Yeah, like." Tyler made a vague hand gesture. "What won't you do, what do you think is gross, what did you want to try. That kind of thing."

Josh blinked at him. "I don't- I mean, that's kind of the point, you know, that I-" He could feel the knot in his stomach tightening when he let out a breath. "Honestly? I have no idea what I'm doing."

Tyler took a step closer, still smiling. He really did look friendly, Josh thought. So probably not offended, then. "Okay. How about this? I ask a question, you decide yes or no." This close up, his eyes were less dark brown and more hazel. "Can I kiss you?"

Josh let out another breath. "Yes," he said, and then Tyler was reaching out to cup Josh's face in his hands and kiss him.

Josh wasn't working from a lot of experience, but Tyler's mouth was soft and wet without being sloppy, which was nice. When he tilted his head and bit Josh's lower lip, he changed that from "nice" to "okay, yes please more of that." He sighed into Tyler's mouth, and fuck if that was stupid or not.

Judging from the way Tyler looked at him when he pulled back, Josh didn't think so. "Okay," Tyler said, "that worked. Can I take your clothes off?"

Josh looked at him for a few seconds, then stuttered out, "Um. If you really want t--yes! I mean. If you want. Whatever, sure, yeah."

Tyler kissed him again, almost sweetly, and slid his hands under Josh's t-shirt, tugging it up and over his head. There was a tiny moment of panic when his beanie came free of his head, but he managed to keep the hyperventilating to a minimum. 

"Hey," he said, "you've got curls. Awesome."

"I usually straighten it," Josh insisted halfheartedly. Tyler wasn't running! Tyler wasn't -- Tyler might possibly have a thing for his noticeably pudgy stomach, because he was petting it. Petting it, stroking it -- fuck, he was looking at it like he was amazed, not amused or a little turned off. Like he was getting off on it a little, maybe.

Josh was suddenly so, so glad he hadn't gone with Hans.

"What--" Josh started, but then Tyler was grinning and taking his own shirt off, and holy crap. Josh's mouth went dry.

Tyler wasn't...covered in ink, exactly, but there was a lot of it. Josh's hand went to the one on Tyler's right pec. "Can I?" he asked. Sort of moot, since he was touching it anyway.

Tyler wrapped an arm around Josh's shoulder and tugged him closer. "Sure," he murmured, leaning in to kiss Josh's neck.

Josh traced his fingers down the lines across Tyler's stomach, slipping them, just for a second, under the waist of his jeans. "Um-"

"It's okay." Tyler sounded like he was laughing, a little, but not in a rude way; he was smiling against Josh's neck, and his grasp was loose enough that Josh was reasonably sure he wasn't feeling all that tense. He swallowed and flicked the button on Tyler's fly open.

This wasn't so difficult, he thought. It was almost like taking his own jeans off. And Tyler was breathing in his ear, and his erection was brushing Josh's fingers through the boxers - and yeah, this was going to be okay. Maybe not how he'd figured when he was fourteen, but still okay. Still good.

He realized, after a couple of seconds, that Tyler's fingers were tugging on his jeans. "Come on," he said against Josh's neck, "let me see."

"Um," Josh started, and then Tyler was slipping to his knees, yanking Josh's jeans down as he went. And then he felt air, and realized that oh, shit, Tyler had gotten his boxers, too-

"Fuck, yes," Tyler muttered. Josh glanced down and saw Tyler staring at his dick, fascinated. One hand was snaked inside his own jeans, which — holy fuck, Tyler was staring at him, at him, and jerking himself off.

Josh boggled. He couldn't help it.

"Hey," Tyler said, and slid his mouth from the base of Josh's cock to the tip. Josh felt his knees start to shake.

Tyler pulled back a fraction and looked at him under his lashes. "Anyone ever blow you before?"

Josh shook his head no, too shocked to be embarrassed.

Tyler grinned. "You might want to sit down, kid," he teased, and sucked hard on the head.

Josh felt his eyes roll back in his head. This was so — oh, God, what if Tyler wanted him to do it back? He was gonna be so bad at it, but he wanted to be good, Tyler was nice and polite and solicitous, and he deserved a great blowjob-

Tongueswirl along the tip. Josh collapsed on the bed and spread his legs wider, panting. Tyler's nails were scraping lightly along the muscle in his inner thigh, and his mouth was- oh God, yes- Josh was gripping the sheets, silently praying. He wasn't an expert, but he was pretty sure Tyler would be considered good at this.

Please, he thought silently, please don't let me- and then Tyler was sliding his thumb down the length of Josh's cock, down over his balls. Once, yes, God please yes; twice and Josh was coming, crying out something unintelligible and spasming his way through it.

Not sexy, he realized a minute later, opening his eyes and staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. Not even remotely sexy.

"I'm sorry," Josh muttered, scrubbing at his face with his hand. Every inch of him felt bright red and completely embarrassed.

And Tyler. God, Tyler just grinned and bit at the inside of his thigh, his thigh. "It's cool," he laughed. He wiped a smear off Josh's belly with his thumb and licked it clean. "It's a compliment."

"A messy one," Josh muttered. He was just cognizant enough to realize when Tyler stood up and flopped onto the bed next to him, but not so awake he could freak out about it the way he thought he was supposed to.

"Hey," Tyler said, low and kind of sweet. Josh turned his head to see completely naked Tyler, sweaty and beautiful Tyler. resting his head on his arm. "Don't freak out on me now, okay?"

"I'm not-" Oooookay, high-pitched. "I'm not freaking out," Josh said, and paused. "Maybe a little."

"It's fine." Tyler laughed a little, but Josh, who'd had experience with people doing breathy-snotty-mocking laughter over the years, could tell: he was amused, probably a lot amused, but not mocking. "I was eighteen once, too."

"Um." Josh scooted a little closer. "seventeen, not eighteen." He looked to see if it was Tyler's turn to freak out.

But Tyler just smiled and said, "Way to work the system, kid," and slid a hand up Josh's chest.

"It's not," Josh started. "I mean, it's barely a lie. I turn eighteen in a couple months, so."

Tyler leaned down and flicked his tongue over Josh's nipple. Josh figured that meant "I forgive you" in some kind of sex-based language.

"It's not like they let minors put up ads asking to get fucked." Josh shuddered and slid a hand down to curve around Tyler's waist. "So. um. Do you want to-"

Tyler took Josh's wrist and tugged his hand a fraction lower, brushing his erection. He shivered. "Yeah," he said quietly, "I really, really want to."

"Okay." Josh swallowed hard. "Condoms? I have some, if you don't."

Tyler sat up. opened his mouth to complain, but then shook his head and turned to the side, going through the table next to the bed and coming back with a small foil-wrapped package and a small bottle of what Josh knew now, thanks to the internet wasn't lotion, though it could have fooled people from a distance, if needed.

"I haven't been with that many people," Tyler said matter-of-factly, opening the cap. "Not, like, actual sex. It's less than ten. Do you want their names?

Josh shook his head, suddenly mute. His stomach was drawn up tight, the way it always did when he got scared, but he wasn't scared, not really; the erection was proof of that. But something about hearing Tyler talk about it made it real in a way the blowjob hadn't. Messed up, probably, but true.

"Okay." Tyler smeared some of the lube on his fingers. "Did you- I mean. How did you want to do this?"

Josh blinked at him. "I just. I figured you'd be the one fucking me-"

"No," Tyler said, smiling a little. "How? Like, positioning. On our sides, or you on your back, or you on your stomach-"

"Um." Josh thought fast. "I don't have a preference or anything."

"It can be kind of hard to see, if you do it on your sides." Tyler snaked his hand down and under Josh's thighs, just past the curve of his ass, and oh oh oh was he doing… well, Josh knew what he was doing, but it still made him bite his lip and spread his legs a little wider. "So I figured-" Tyler leaned into his field of vision.

"Would it be okay if we did it this way?" he asked. He sounded shy, which made Josh gape a little. Of course, that thing Tyler was doing with his fingers made Josh predisposed towards it, which didn't hurt. "I mean. With you on your back." He didn't look embarrassed, just honest. "I'd like to look at you."

"Yes," Josh blurted out, blushing when Tyler grinned a little. "I mean. Yeah, that's fine."

"Okay." Tyler smiled, then glanced down. "You ready for three?"

"Three what?" Josh asked blankly, and gaped again. "Three? It doesn't feel like-um. No offense."

"None taken," Tyler said. "And that's not bullshit, either. It just means you feel comfortable and relaxed. Which is sort of the point, so I'm not complaining." He moved, or shifted, or something, because suddenly Josh sucked in a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling.

"Um," he panted, staring at the ceiling fan. "Is it… can you do another one? In a minute? Not that I- I just. I'd feel more comfortable with another one."

"Okay." Tyler kept stroking him, slow and careful; a minute or two later, Josh felt another slip inside him. "How's that? Better? Worse?"

"Um." Josh shifted experimentally and nodded. "Better. I mean. It just-” He made an annoyed noise. "It didn't feel right, before. Fuck, I don't know."

"It's okay," Tyler said again. "I want you to tell me this stuff, okay? We're doing this for you. I don't want to scare you away from sex for, like, the next ten years or something."

Josh nodded. "Yeah, that would sort of defeat the purpose."

They stayed that way for a minute. Tyler didn't go too fast or too hard, and when Josh winced or said something like, "um, maybe you could-" he stopped and apologized, which was sort of nice. The look on his face was more than sort of nice, pleased and probably happy. Josh didn't see what he was doing to make Tyler make that face, but he wasn't about to complain.

"Okay," he finally said. "We can. Um. If you're ready."

Tyler nodded and slid his fingers out. Josh let out a long breath and told himself it was fine, it wasn't like he was being rejected; putting a condom on one-handed was just fucking impossible, unless you were in Cirque du Soleil or something. 

And then Tyler was back in his field of vision, and his cock was still hard, except now it was covered in a thin latex skin and looked shiny and slick. Lube, he realized, more from the plastic smell.

"Okay," Tyler said, moving a little. He gripped Josh's hip, tight but not *too* tight, and levered himself into position. It tickled a little, like something was brushing against him very faintly, which. Well. Yeah. "You ready?"

Josh nodded. "Yeah," he said, and braced himself.

Tyler moved. It was weird, was the thing. Not good, not bad, not awful, not mind-blowing, just...weird. His brain was helpfully telling him that there wasn’t supposed to be anything there, let alone that, but his nerve endings were telling it to shut up and wait a second, this was interesting. It felt more like three fingers, not four, but Josh looked at Tyler after a couple seconds and saw the tension on his face, and realized that that was probably because he was maybe halfway inside.

He shifted and brought one leg up, wincing a little. Okay, that was kind of...not painful? A little? More like muscle burn in gym class, just in an inconvenient place. "Go ahead," he said, and was surprised to hear how breathless his voice sounded.

"'m fine," Tyler said. He sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth.

"Don't be a dick," Josh said, "just-" and apparently "dick" was the keyword Tyler had been waiting for, because Josh gasped and hissed out a breath between his teeth, and yeah, that was - not pleasant, exactly.

"Are you okay?" Tyler said. He sounded as breathless as Josh had sounded a couple seconds ago, though part of that could've been because his mouth was pressed against Josh's chest.

"I'm-" Josh let out another breath and shifted again, twisting his hips a little to the right, then a little more. And God, that was so much better. His brain and his nerve endings were still bitching at each other, but he was starting to think his nerve endings were going to win.

"Josh?" Tyler sounded a little worried, now.

"I'm fine," Josh said. "It was just. I needed a second." He hesitated, then reached up and curved one hand around Tyler's bicep, squeezing a little. "You can go ahead and- do whatever now."

Tyler smiled, or tried to. It looked kind of strained. "Okay," he said, and kissed Josh's chest. Josh felt himself blush.

And then Tyler was thrusting, slow and kind of careful, which was nice, but it wasn't - every other thrust gave him kind of a tickle, like hearing a radio station cut in and out when you were driving. There was a minute or two where Josh was worried that maybe he'd be horrible at this forever, that maybe he wasn't supposed to have sex. Some people could sing, some people were good at math, maybe some people were meant to be total crap at fucking-

And then, and then Tyler frowned and moved a little to the left, and thrust harder, and Josh opened his mouth and groaned, long and low.

He stared at Tyler, astonished. He hadn't meant to do that.

Tyler just grinned. "Thought so," he said, breathing a little faster, and did it again. And again. And again.

After that, things went kind of blurry. Tyler's thrusts were short and sharp now, less careful but *better*, and both hands were on Josh's hips like he was bracing himself. Josh made noises every time he did it, getting higher and louder every time, which was stupid, but God, it felt so good. Not the same kind of good that jerking off felt, but nothing to complain about, either. Josh didn't even realize he'd brought his other leg up 'til he felt something touch it and looked over to find Tyler resting one hand on his knee, panting and making an incredibly stupid face, all sharp thrusts and "oh-oh-oh"-ing like a broken record.

That's what he looks like when he's coming, Josh realized, and then Tyler made some kind of noise that was probably supposed to be a word and slid the knee hand down to wrap around his dick. One stroke, two, three, four, and on the fifth he gasped and came, spurting dumb and helpless against Tyler's stomach.

"You," he panted, and waited 'til he could actually speak again to say: "You make really dumb faces when you come."

For one horrified moment, Josh was sure Tyler would yank himself out and throw his clothes at him, tell him to get the fuck out of his house. But Tyler just snorted and wiped at his stomach. "Yeah, because you were a fucking Glamour Shot, right there."

"Shut up," Josh said agreeably, smiling. He hesitated. "Um. Do you want-"

"It's gonna feel weird," Tyler warned, and eased out. Josh winced, less because it hurt than because, again, it felt weird. Seriously, if he was going to keep having sex, he needed to come up with a better vocabulary than "weird" and "different" and "not bad, exactly".

Tyler sat up and wiped his hand on his sheets, then curled in on himself and did something to his lap; a moment later, Josh heard something thwack into the garbage can. The condom, he supposed, watching Tyler lay back down on the mattress.

"So," Tyler said, smiling a little. "What you were imagining?"

"Yes," Josh said immediately, looking at him. "...no. Parts of it?" He shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it."

"It's okay," Tyler said. He rubbed Josh's stomach. Something about the motion made Josh blush all over again. "You don't have to."

Josh smiled, then realized: he wasn't a virgin anymore. He had sex. With a guy. With a hot guy, no less. He'd gotten everything he wanted.

And now he had to leave.

"Um-" Josh bit his lip and tried to will himself to move. "I should probably. Um. Get going."

"Oh." Tyler looked at him, sleepily confused, but didn't move his hand away. "That's… if you want, yeah, that would-"

"It's not- you probably have stuff to do, so." Josh smiled, or tried to, and sat up wincing, because wow that felt weird, to look for his clothes.

"Hey, that's. No." Tyler sat up, too, faster, which made sense and put a hand on Josh's arm. "I really, really don't. And if you want to leave, fine, but don't think I want you to run out and pretend this never happened or something, okay?"

"Oh," Josh said quietly. "Um. Okay."

"Okay. Good." Tyler lay back down and tugged on Josh's shoulder 'til he slipped down, too, heads next to each other on the pillow. "Because, you know. There's other stuff we could try."

The phrasing was casual enough to be negligent, but something about it, something about the look on Tyler's face, maybe, made Josh's stomach unknot and warm slowly. "That's," he said quietly. "I mean, yeah, we could. I want to be thorough, you know?"

"Thorough is good," Tyler said solemnly, and tilted his arm at kind of a weird angle. It took Josh a minute to realize Tyler was carding his fingers through Josh's hair, very gently.

Face half-smushed against the pillow, Josh smiled.

Epilogue

"This is a little fucked up, if you think about it," Josh said.

Tyler turned around to blink at him. "Which part?"

"This." Josh tried to do an arm sweep, but pulled it back before he smacked the back of the head of the guy in front of them. "An hour after we first met, we were having sex at your house, and now we're dating. We're working backwards."

"Yeah?" Tyler looked at him. "And?"

"...you don't think that's weird?"

"Weird is relative." He shrugged. "Do I think it's a little odd that we started with sex and progressed to going out on normal dates? Yes. Do I think it's weird enough that it requires comment? Not really. But mostly, I'm just glad you're not still trying to make me see The Brutalist."

"Your intense hatred of Adrien Brody-"

"I don't hate him! I said one time, one time, that I thought it was weird that we lived in a world where Timothee Chalamet is yet to win an Oscar." Tyler squeezed his hand. "It just sounds weird when I explain it to people, that's all."

"Well, yeah, if you're going to--" Josh stopped. "Wait, you explain it to people?"

"Sometimes, yeah." Tyler didn't sound terribly concerned. "A couple of my friends wanted to do something tonight, and I had to tell them that no, sorry, can't, I have a date. And then Chris asked if it was with that guy I hooked up with online, and I said yes, and somewhere in there I sort of called you my- not boyfriend, I'm not fifteen, but I said we were dating."

"Oh," Josh said.

Tyler looked at him, a neat line forming on his brow. "I don't… is that okay?"

"No, yeah." Josh was very careful not to let himself look too happy; it seemed like asking for trouble. "That's. That's more than okay, actually."

"Good." Tyler grinned and bumped shoulders with him. "So are you paying, or are you cheap enough to want to go dutch?"

"Fuck off," Josh said, and got out his wallet.