Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The soccer ball struck the little hillside with a loud thud, followed by a chorus of high-pitched laughter and chaotic footsteps.

Somehow, Josh had already rounded up a dozen fresh-faced campers, kids who'd barely stepped off the bus and still had name tags stuck to their shirts, and convinced them to play an impromptu game while their paperwork was still warm in Tyler’s hands.

Tyler sat at a folding table beneath the shade of the mess hall porch, clipboard in his lap, pen tapping softly against the paper. Cabin assignments, team placements, allergy notes. A neatly ordered chaos - that’s how the first day should feel. A little stiff, a little uncertain. The kids were supposed to cling to routine before adventure kicked in.

Josh didn't seem to get that. Or maybe he did and just didn't care.

Tyler’s eyes drifted back to the field. Back to Josh. Again.

He was in the middle of the group, passing the ball to each camper with a careful precision, shouting encouragement like he’d known these kids for years. He darted between them, high-fiving, laughing, just... radiating too much.

Too much energy, too much volume, too much excitement.

Too much skin, too, Tyler thought, watching the way Josh’s tank top, already marked with sweat, was barely hanging on.

Tyler looked back at his clipboard.

He should’ve been focusing on his task, he didn't need to watch. Not Josh, not even the kids. The other counselors were managing just fine. The second session of camp was just beginning... fourteen days of structure, teamwork, and safe fun. Not... whatever Josh was trying to excite in those kids right there.

The ball flew again. Josh leapt, caught it midair, and twisted just enough to land with a half-flip that sent the kids into a frenzy.

Too much.

Tyler sighed. Damn it.. he was watching again.

He barely registered the footsteps until Jenna dropped down on the seat next to him, carrying another box of colorful bandanas for the campers. Before they could continue with the check-ins, she looked sideways at Tyler and followed his gaze to the field.

“You’ve been watching him for the past ten minutes,” she said, voice low and even. “You okay, or should I get you a cold drink?”

Tyler blinked and quickly dropped his gaze back to the clipboard. “I’m checking in the campers.”

"Hmhm." She cut the box open, setting it down at her feet. "You were also staring at Josh’s back while doing that."

“I wasn't staring.” Tyler checked off a name. “He’s being reckless. The campers just got here. They don't know the rules yet.”

"They are just playing ball, Ty..." Jenna said gently, nodding toward the line of kids waiting to approach the table.

Tyler furrowed his brows and glanced toward the field one more time, only to immediately regret it. He looked up just in time to see Josh pull off his shirt, catching Tyler’s gaze with a side-eye and a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Tyler just glared.

Then a pair of siblings stepped up to his table, their faces a mix of nervousness, confusion, and excitement. Tyler softened instantly, shifting into calm authority and quiet warmth as he welcomed them, asked their names, and assigned them a cabin. Jenna smiled, handed each of them a bandana in their team color, and sent them on their way.

They worked through the rest of the kids, assigning cabins and teams, Tyler steady and welcoming, Jenna with a warm smile beside him, until a pair of swift footsteps signaled a new presence.

Tyler knew who it was before he even looked up.

"Hey," came Josh’s voice, bright and casual, like there wasn't sweat running down his chest.

"Hi Joshie," Jenna replied enthusiastically, earning a bright, cheeky grin from him.

“Busy being official over here?” he teased, turning to look directly at Tyler. “Didn’t peg you for the paper-pusher type, Tyler.”

Tyler’s jaw twitched.

“Someone has to keep this place organized,” he answered flatly without looking up, flipping a page even though he didn't need to.

Josh let out a soft laugh. “Right. Gotta make sure all the fast, bright kids end up on Team Josh, so I can finally beat you and claim that camp trophy."

"Yeah, you wish," Tyler scoffed slightly. "You don't stand a chance." He marked another name off the list, his handwriting dipped, just a little.

He finally lifted his gaze, looking at Josh for the first time since he’d walked over. There was a glint in Josh’s eyes, a challenging smile playing at his lips as their eyes locked.

The rivalry was undeniable. Ever since Josh found out there was a prize to win, he’d been set on getting it. But with the first session, Tyler had come out on top. He was better.

In fact, Tyler wasn’t used to losing at all, being a counselor at this camp for the fifth year, he had never, not once, lost to anyone.

And he wasn't going to let Josh change that. Not this summer. Not ever.

"We'll see about that," Josh said smugly, licking his lips and flashing Tyler one last dashing smile before turning on his heel and jogging back to his group of kids.

Tyler stared after him, eyes fixed on the small clouds of dust kicking up beneath each step.

"We'll see about that."

He’d heard those words before.

Exactly two months ago.

Although the phrase had a slightly different ring to it back then.

...

They did this every year... the counselors meet-up a few months before the summer break, all of them crowded around mismatched tables in the private room of some cozy restaurant downtown. A place where they could comfortably hash out plans for the camp-- the themes, the games, the chore schedules, everything.

Their own version of team-building.

Although, truthfully, usually there wasn’t much of a team to build. Most of them were returning year after year, already familiar with each other, as well as how things worked and what to expect at the camp.

Except this year, there was a newbie.

Josh.

Introduced by David, the camp director, with a proud hand on his shoulder and that voice he always used whenever he was particularly pleased with himself. "This is Josh, our newest counselor. You’re all going to love him."

And within half an hour - everyone did.

It soon became clear that Josh was the sort of person who walked into a group of people like he’d been invited to make himself the centre of attention.

He was smooth, all effortless charm and casual confidence. He learned everyone's names, told them a bit of a backstory about himself and why he applied to be a counselor at the camp. David, beaming with pride, hung on every word like he’d known Josh for years.

Josh didn’t cling to one person or linger on the edge like most newcomers usually did. Instead, he moved through the space, like he’d always belonged in it. And people let him. Welcomed him, even. They leaned in when he spoke. Laughed too loud at things that weren’t that funny. Touched his arm when they didn’t need to.

Morgan doubled over in laughter and Debby practically starry-eyed. Even Jenna.. somehow Josh convinced her to scoot aside with just a simple “Mind if I squeeze in?” just so he could land himself right in the center of the action.

Everyone loved him.

Well, almost everyone.

Tyler had been clocking him from the far side of the room ever since he walked in.

He wasn't like most of his colleagues, he didn't trust people easily. He was cautious around anyone new, especially when they didn't act like a newbie at all. Especially when they came into the room like they owned the space. Especially when they looked so damn effortless about it.

Don’t get him wrong, he tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. But charm meant nothing to him... not until it was backed up by something real. And until he got to know someone, even just a little, he kept his distance. He didn’t warm up to people right away, no matter how charming they seemed. He didn’t just hand out trust like candy, people had to earn that.

Still… Tyler had to admit, it bugged him - just how easily Josh seemed to fit in. Something in the back of his mind itched, a quiet alarm suggesting that maybe Josh’s attitude wasn’t entirely genuine. That maybe he was trying too hard without looking like he was trying at all.

But Tyler couldn't be sure.

If he set his judgement aside though, it really was a good thing they were getting a new counselor.

Up until now, it had just been him, Mark, and David... the men of the camp. Although, to be fair, David was usually buried in paperwork and rarely engaged with the kids or the counselors. So in practice, it was just Mark, Tyler, and the four girls. Their dynamic was easygoing, stable, just the way Tyler liked it.

Last year, though, Lindsey had a child of her own and could no longer return as a counselor. So David decided to bring in someone new to help out. Somehow, Tyler had assumed that someone would be a girl.

Instead, they got Josh.

Usually, Tyler had no problem with people like Josh. The kind of people who made everything look easy. Who didn’t need to try hard for likes or respect because it was just handed to them like a party favor. Tlyer himself wasn't wired that way and he was okay with it, and he could respect it in others.

What he did have a problem with was when those people disrupted an already established dynamic. When they brought chaos to something that had been working perfectly..

And to Tyler, Josh looked like the definition of chaos.

Tyler watched him in silence as he chatted with Debby. She was listening intently, her gaze flicking between his eyes and his lips, like she was hoping to taste the words instead of just hearing them.

And honestly, no wonder she didn’t know where to look first.

Josh was beautiful.

Not in a way that seemed deliberate, just effortlessly so. He had these deep brown, puppy-like eyes, curly hair that threatened to fall into his face if he moved too fast, and full lips curved into the most disarming smile. His arms were toned, a hint of muscle appearing whenever he raised his arm and his sleeve rode up.

Effortlessly charming, effortlessly beautiful.

Realizing he was staring, Tyler looked down at his drink, swirling the condensation at the bottom of the glass with slow, absent-minded motions.

Josh looked exactly like the type of person people always fell for too easily. The kind who’d have the female counselors distracted all summer. Maybe even some of the older camper girls. Jeez, maybe even some of the boys, Tyler thought, reluctantly acknowledging that he might have a problem himself if he let himself entertain the thought for just a little longer.

And Tyler wasn’t having that.

When he looked up again, Josh was already looking at him.

Not scanning the room. Not glancing his way. Looking.

Their eyes met. Josh was still mid-conversation with Morgan, but his gaze was fixed on Tyler, like he’d been waiting for him to look up. There was curiosity and maybe even a hint of intrigue in his eyes, but beneath it all was something playful. Something that almost looked like a dare.

His mouth twitched like he was holding back a grin, and for a second, it felt like the whole room had narrowed down to just the two of them. Still, his eyes stayed warm. Inviting.

Tyler held his gaze for a while, trying to intimidate him. But when his effort fell short, he dropped his eyes back to his drink.

Five minutes later, Josh was moving again. Shifting his drink to his other hand, brushing past the corner table, sliding into the empty seat beside Tyler like it was always meant for him.

"Tyler, right?"

The voice was smooth. Friendly. Too casual.

Tyler didn’t look at him. “That’s me.”

“Cool. I’m Josh.” He offered a hand.

Tyler didn’t take it. Just nodded.

Unbothered, Josh set his glass down and leaned back a little. “Soo…” Josh began, drawing the word out like a string. “You’ve been at the camp for a while, right? What’s your thing? Crafts? Survival skills?"

Tyler finally looked up at him, but his response was flat. “Music.”

Josh’s eyebrows lifted. “Ooh, really? That’s hot.” His gaze dropped, lingering just a second longer than necessary on Tyler’s tattoos. “Makes sense I guess,” he added, lips curling into a grin as his eyes slid back up to meet Tyler’s - steady, deliberate, and maybe just a little too interested.

He held Tyler’s gaze like he was enjoying the view.
Tyler felt his stomach twist- not unpleasantly, but not exactly pleasantly either. More like, he didn't know what to think of Josh's words, or the way he was looking at him.

Was that a compliment? Was he.. flirting?

No. That couldn't be... Right?

Sure, Josh looked like he could be a flirt, but Tyler had assumed that he was as straight as they come, if his conversations with all the girls and Debby’s starry-eyed reaction earlier was anything to go by. The idea of Josh flirting with him left Tyler a little unsteady on the inside.

But on the outside?

Tyler just stared... cool, unmoved, unimpressed.

Josh didn’t seem discouraged. He shifted again, this time angling toward Tyler with a low, conspiratorial tone. “You’ve got that ‘I don’t talk much but when I do, people listen’ thing going. Bet you kill it with the acoustic guitar.”

Tyler tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help it. His mouth twitched. Just barely. Not a smile. But... something.

And Josh noticed. Because of course he did.

“Let me guess…” Josh went on, tapping his fingers idly against the rim of his glass, looking up at Tyler from beneath his lashes. “You sit by the fire, quiet, then when the time comes, you pull out a six-string and wreck everyone emotionally with some haunting original song about stars and regret.”

Tyler gave him a sidelong glance. “That’s... oddly specific.”

Josh just shrugged. “I’ve met your type.”

Something about the way he said it caught Tyler off guard. Like Josh wasn’t bothered by people like him at all. Like he didn’t mind that Tyler was acting cold and distant. Like it didn’t matter that they were complete opposites.

Like Tyler’s type was his personal challenge or something. Tyler had no intention of playing along with that.

"Well.. you're wrong," Tyler said simply, not ready to admit that Josh might be onto something.

The truth was, Josh was actually right.

Tyler was mostly quiet, reserved, but when he spoke, his words meant something and they drew people in almost effortlessly. And when those words were paired with a melody and a smooth string of rhymes, people were hooked from the very first line.

But Josh didn't need to know that.

"Which part am I wrong about?" Josh pressed, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lip.

Tyler didn’t answer.

He should’ve shut this down already. Should’ve gotten up, moved seats, gone to refill his drink or check in with Jenna. But instead, he stayed where he was, letting Josh’s words settle under his skin. Wondering, just for a second, what it might feel like to let him in, to see where the conversation could go.

If only he hadn’t already built his walls so high.

Josh must’ve sensed the shift because the next moment, he was leaning in close. His voice dropped a little lower, quieter. “You’ve got this whole mystery thing going on, and I’m not gonna lie... makes me curious.”

Tyler looked at him fully this time. Their eyes met, and something unspoken hovered in the air between them. A flicker of something just barely taking shape.

Tyler’s voice came out quiet, but even. “Curious about what?”

Josh’s lips twitched, like he’d been waiting for that exact reaction. He stood, smooth and unhurried, picked up his drink with two fingers, and locked eyes with Tyler one last time.

Then he simply said, “See you around, Tyler.”

And just like that, he slipped back into the center of action, back to the safe warmth of loud laughter and people who didn’t make things complicated, unlike Tyler.

It left Tyler wondering.

Was Josh just like that with everyone? Open, charming, casually disarming? Or was it some game he played to get under people’s skin and watch them flinch?

Maybe he was the type who needed everyone to like him. Maybe he flirted his way into people’s good books. Maybe he just wanted a reaction.

Maybe he got one.

Or maybe... for the first time in a very long time... Tyler didn't really know what to think.

Tyler exhaled slowly. His hand moved instinctively toward his glass, ready to trace patterns in the condensation like it was part of some coping ritual. Except there was no condensation left. The drink was warm.

He picked it up anyway and downed the rest in a single gulp before pushing back his chair and standing up from his spot.

He needed another one.

The rest of the night blurred in and out of focus, the way these kinds of evenings tended to. Eventually, the group gathered around to go over camp plans. Jenna called everyone over like a tired mom wrangling her adult children. After dinner, some people switched to water, others went for something stronger.

The conversation shifted to rotations, group assignments, theme nights, and the new camp-wide scavenger hunt someone had dreamt up last year but never implemented. Tyler had input. He always did. Even with the slight buzz working its way through his system, he stayed sharp, his suggestions precise and clear.

And if he felt eyes on him every now and then from across the table, he didn’t acknowledge it.

By the time the official business was wrapped up, the room had softened. Voices were looser, jokes louder. Debby was perched on the back of a chair, wine in hand, cheeks flushed. Jenna had kicked off her shoes. Tyler sat back in his chair, sipping something sweet and citrusy this time. His brain wasn’t entirely quiet, but at least it softened around the edges.

He didn’t hear Josh approach until he was already sliding into the chair beside him again, uninvited but... not unwelcome.

“You always this intense about scavenger hunts?” Josh asked, leaning his arms casually on the table like they were old friends.

Tyler gave him a side glance, “I like things that are planned.”

Josh chuckled slightly, “Yeah, I picked up on that.” His smile curled. “So...what would happen if we...hypothetically... ditched some plan and just made something up on the fly?”

Tyler narrowed his eyes, meeting Josh’s gaze. "Don’t... even think about it. We do these meetings for a reason, Josh."

Tyler was used to mischief from the kids. But the look Josh gave him now? That was something else entirely. "Well.. I make no promises, man"

"My god, you’re trouble," Tyler said, matter-of-factly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head.

"And you’re interesting," Josh shot back, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Tyler froze, hand halfway to his drink. "What?"

Josh just tilted his head slightly, as if he was studying Tyler, trying to see something beneath the surface.

“Well.. just the fact that you’re so busy keeping things controlled, I can’t tell if you actually like it or if you’re just scared of what happens when you let go.”

Tyler’s breath hitched for a moment. The words struck something. A little too close to home.

He didn’t answer. Just took another sip of his drink.

Josh leaned in, not crowding him, but maybe a little closer than necessary. “You know,” he said, voice low again, “you’re a lot more talkative after two drinks.”

Tyler turned to him, and... maybe it was the lighting, or the drink, or the smile that wasn’t so smug this time... but something in him loosened just enough to let the words slip out.

“Maybe you’re just easier to tolerate when I’m not completely sober.”

Josh’s mouth curved into a carefree grin. “Wow... that’s practically affection coming from you.”

Tyler gave him a look, half-blank, half-amused. “Yeah, well... don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” Josh said, his tone easy, but there was something under it... something a little more real. “I like this version of you.”

Tyler looked away, but not fast enough to hide the way that landed.

For all the showy charm, there was something else behind Josh’s eyes. A steadiness. A softness. An interest that felt genuine. Tyler was almost curious about what it might feel like to let his guard down for a few minutes. To lean into that interest, to really seeJosh... What it might feel like to let his drunken eyes roam for a while, take in some of Josh’s beauty.

But then he stopped himself.

He didn’t get to be curious. That wasn’t who he was. That wasn’t safe.

Josh’s smile softened, just a little. “You’re allowed to like me, you know," he said like he knew exactly what was going through Tyler’s mind.

And that was enough to shake Tyler out of his thoughts completely. A simple sentence. And just like that, he pulled the shutters back down.

“Well, I don’t," he said firmly, eyes pinned straight ahead.

Josh leaned back, unfazed. “You saying that to convince me… or yourself?”

Tyler returned to his drink. "Not trying to convince anyone. I just don't."

Josh let the moment breathe, just long enough for Tyler to feel it stretch too thin. Then, with that infuriatingly calm charm, he stood and gathered his glass.

“Well, you're saying that now,” he said with a shrug. “But we’ll see about that.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving Tyler there, alone with the noise in his head and his half-warm beer and the sinking certainty that this summer was going to be anything but chill and organized.

...

Tyler blinked once, twice, dragging himself back to the present.

Josh was gone... already jogging back to his group of kids, like he hadn’t just cracked open something Tyler had buried under two months of silence and structure.

“You just time-traveled, didn’t you,” Jenna said beside him, not even looking up from her paperwork.

Tyler didn’t answer. He marked the next name on his clipboard a little too hard.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Cool,” she said casually. “I’ll be over by the paddock if you decide to stop brooding.”

Tyler exhaled through his nose, sharp, controlled and lifted his gaze towards Josh one more time.

God bless. This guy was going to be the end of him this summer.

Chapter Text

Tyler always liked the beginning of summer.

He liked the change of pace, stepping out of his usual routine and into something a little different, maybe even unpredictable.

During the year, most of his days were spent tucked away in his home studio, writing music for whatever project came his way- ads, video games, short film scenes - or sometimes just for himself, crafting his own songs.

A few times a week, kids would come to his home for piano lessons. Not because music production didn’t pay the bills or anything, it did... but mostly because once he tried teaching, he realized just how much it helped him to stay sane.

He felt lucky to do what he loved for a living, and he’d never complain, no matter how demanding it got. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to taking a break from it every summer.

Camp was different. No deadlines, no clients, no pressure. Just fresh air, a bunch of excited kids, and a team of like-minded people. Tyler got to help kids have fun, teach them something new every day, be part of something that actually mattered.

He played a part in making their summer something unforgettable, full of laughter, new friendships, and memories. The kind of summer he might’ve missed out on himself as a kid.

The first session of camp always felt like a reset. Tyler’s own version of a holiday. There was nowhere else he’d rather spend his summer.

But this year, that familiar excitement had been slightly shaken, thanks to the newest addition to the counselor team. Josh.

Two months had passed since the pre-camp meet-up. Two months since that too-easy smile, that stupidly confident conversation Josh led with him. Tyler had spent those weeks convincing himself that he could handle it. That he knew what to expect now. Josh was loud, energetic, probably exhausting, but manageable. Tyler told himself things would go smoothly. That he’d be ready.

Ready for Josh and his... authentic personality.

All he wanted was for the kids to have a great time, so as long as Josh was good with the kids, he’d be good with Josh. Sure, his attitude might be annoying, but Tyler could be civil. Professional. Maybe even cordial towards him.

But once the first session actually began, it took less than forty-eight hours for Josh to ruin that illusion.

He was exceptionally good with the kids, that was obvious from the very beginning.

He let them adopt him like he was some oversized family dog... loud, excitable, and impossible not to love. He learned names fast, remembered tiny details about who hated cucumbers or who had a little brother back home. He somehow made everything feel like a game, even when he was enforcing rules.

The kids adored him.

Tyler should've been happy about that. Josh good with kids. Tyler good with Josh. It was supposed to be that simple.

Problem was, Josh was also exceptionally good at pushing Tyler’s buttons.

He made everything personal.

Tyler asked for the afternoon groups to stick to the schedule, Josh would nod agreeably, then go off-script ten minutes later because “the kids were vibing with something else.” He always managed to slide into the seat next to Tyler- or directly across from him - during group meals, casually teasing him about how he never ate his dessert.

Then there was the time they were co-supervising swim time. Josh had shown up late, shirt half-buttoned, towel slung over his shoulder like he was stepping into a magazine spread.

“Relax,” he’d said, when Tyler pointed to the clock. “The pool doesn’t open without me.”

Tyler had opened his mouth to argue, but Josh had already crouched beside one of the campers, helping them tie a shoelace and asking about their favorite ice cream flavor like he’d been there all along.

And later, just as Tyler was walking past him to check on one of the kids, Josh leaned in slightly and said, “You should take your shirt off sometime. The sun’s good for grumpy dispositions.”

Tyler walked faster.

Worse than the teasing, though, was the attention. The way Josh watched him.. not constantly, not obviously, but in brief glances. Like he was studying Tyler’s edges. Like he wasn’t just looking at him, but into him, testing where the walls started and where they might, eventually, give.

Sometimes the look was playful. Sometimes it was daring, when they were squaring off in a challenge. And sometimes… It was quieter. Sharper. The kind of stare that made Tyler hyper-aware of every inch of his body.

And occasionally... rarely, but still enough, Tyler would catch a flicker of something else.

Heat.

In those brief moments, when Tyler happened to be in some state of undress - whether in swim trunks or after one of his kids accidentally ruined his shirt with a pair of scissors - Josh looked. It never lasted more than a second or two. But in that second, Josh wasn’t just looking. He was thinking. He was imagining. Daydreaming, maybe...

And Tyler?

Tyler would pretend not to notice. Pretend it didn’t land like a live wire across his spine. Pretend he didn’t spend the next ten minutes forgetting whatever he was supposed to be doing.

And honestly, it wasn’t the teasing or the stares that annoyed Tyler the most. It was the way that same attention sparked something under his skin. A quiet pull he didn’t like. A flicker of interest he didn’t want.

Because if Josh was playing a game, Tyler didn’t want to be part of it. And if he wasn’t... Well.. that was even worse. If all of it was real, the looks and the heat and the easy way he kept finding Tyler in every corner of the day...

That was far worse...

Because Tyler didn’t know what to do with that.

...

Which is why, when he dragged himself out of bed at 6:45 in the morning for his turn at warm-up duty, he was already bracing for whatever chaos the day had in store.

Tyler didn’t consider himself a morning person.

Which was exactly the reason why he’d volunteered to take the first warm-up slot of the second session, when the kids were still fresh, new to everything, and too unfamiliar to question his obvious lack of enthusiasm for early-morning anything.

The counselors rotated morning duty so no one had to suffer every day. So naturally, Tyler thought it would be better to get it over with early and be done for another week.

Tyler shuffled across the grass in a hoodie and sweatpants, hair fluffy on top of his head and his expression still stuck somewhere between consciousness and caffeine withdrawal. A travel mug balanced in one hand, a Bluetooth speaker big enough to wake the dead in the other.

A few kids were already on the field, gathering in loose little clumps, yawning, stretching, tugging at the sleeves of oversized hoodies. Tyler connected his phone to the speaker and queued up something loud and energetic to lure the rest of the campers from their bunks.

Then he took a sip from his mug, bracing himself. He still had five minutes to pretend he was emotionally prepared for this.

Okay. Warm-up time. He could do this. Ten minutes of light movement, a few silly stretches, maybe a breathing exercise to get the kids in the zone. Easy. Quiet. Predictable.

"You're really cute when you look like a zombie, you know that?"

Tyler blinked.

That voice was not supposed to be here.

He turned slowly, watching Josh jog to a stop in front of him, slightly winded, cheeks flushed from the run he just came back from, hair messy in that “I woke up like this and still look great” way.

Tyler just stared at him, his face still too half-asleep to show the full extent of his internal annoyance. “It’s not your turn.”

Josh tilted his head. “Yeah, but I thought you might need... moral support.”

Tyler narrowed his eyes. “Moral support?”

Josh’s grin widened. “Or maybe I just wanted to see your pretty morning face.”

Tyler groaned internally. He didn’t have the energy for this. Not yet. Possibly not ever.

"But honestly you look like you need the help, man," Josh chuckled. "You’re barely awake yourself, how do you plan on waking them up?" He gestured toward the yawning campers gathering on the field.

Despite knowing Josh was right, Tyler scoffed slightly. "Uh... With this, duh!" He lifted the giant Bluetooth speaker and held it up in front of Josh’s face.

Josh nodded with mock admiration. "Oh wow... Impressive equipment," he said. “But unless that thing transforms into a jumping-jack robot, I’m not sure it’s gonna cut it.”

Tyler bit down on his tongue. “You know… for someone claiming to help, you’re not being very helpful,” he said, trying to turn Josh’s attitude against him.

“Not yet,” Josh replied, stepping closer and leaning into his space.

For a second, Tyler wasn’t sure what was happening. His mind was still too half-asleep to process it fast enough. His eyes tracked Josh’s hand as it reached toward him, his skin bracing for contact, only to watch him press play on the speaker instead.

Josh just smirked, clearly pleased with the reaction he’d gotten.

As the energetic music kicked in, Josh stepped away and turned toward the kids, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “ALRIGHT, PEOPLE... LET’S LOOSEN THOSE LIMBS AND WAKE UP THOSE BRAINS!”

Several kids groaned. Tyler just stood there, slightly dumbfounded.

Josh clapped. “Yes! That’s the energy I love!”

He shot a glance back at Tyler, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. He clearly expected a challenge... Tyler snapping back, reclaiming control, putting him in his place. But at that moment, Tyler could care less Josh took his morning duty away from him. In fact, he decided to use Josh’s cockiness to his own advantage.

Josh still looked at him expectantly, waiting for Tyler to either join in or put up a fight.

Tyler just folded his arms across his chest, raising a brow in silent challenge. "What... you took initiative, you lead it then," he said, flapping a hand in a casual go on gesture.

Josh blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Figure if you’re going to hijack my morning, you might as well do it properly.”

And then, to Tyler’s reluctant admiration, Josh led the warm-up like he’d been waiting his whole life for the chance.

The kids loved it.

Tyler stood off to the side, sipping his coffee in slow, measured gulps, pretending Josh’s deliberate stretching and his infuriatingly tight running shorts didn’t affect him. At all.

He pretended not to notice the occasional side-eye Josh threw his way, like he knew Tyler was watching him bend toward his toes. Pretended the wink Josh sent him after a particularly ridiculous set of squats didn’t send a bolt of heat straight to his chest.

He pretended a lot of things.

Because it was either that... Or admitting, right there in the cold morning light, that this was already spiraling into something he might not be able to control.

The dining hall buzzed with the kind of warm, chaotic energy only kids could generate before 9 a.m. Plates clattered, juice cups tipped, and someone had already spilled cereal near the milk station. Tyler slipped into his usual spot at the end of the counselors’ table, tray in hand, doing his best to look unapproachable and uninviting.

He had barely lifted his fork when Jenna slid into the seat across from him, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"How was your morning warm-up?" She asked, without so much as a good morning. She wiggled her brows and Tyler knew immediately, that she already knew.

"It was fine," he replied flatly, stuffing his mouth with eggs.

“Mmhmm. I heard you had a little help.”

Tyler didn’t look up. “The help... inserted itself.”

Jenna arched her brow. “Voluntarily?”

He sighed. “Uninvited.”

She hummed into her coffee, that low, amused sound that meant she knew exactly how much it had irritated him. “And yet, you let him stay.”

“The kids liked it.”

“Uh-huh," she teased, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Not just the kids though, right?"

Tyler lifted his gaze, staring Jenna down for a long, pointed moment. He didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on cutting his eggs with meticulous precision.

Jenna tilted her head. “You’ve got a little look, you know. Whenever he’s near. All tense jaw and tragic eyebrows. It’s very subtle.”

Tyler scoffed, still staring at his plate. "Oh please... you're imagining things."

"Hmm, I don't think so, Ty... I know you. In fact, I think you're imagining things... when you're looking at him," she shot back, flashing a teasing grin.

Tyler stabbed his toast. “No, I don’t.”

“Oh yes, you do.”

“I don’t.”

“He’s cute.”

Tyler finally looked up, meeting her eyes. “He’s loud.”

“So are fireworks,” she said, shrugging. “Doesn’t mean you don’t want to watch them.”

Tyler exhaled sharply, somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. He knew this conversation would only rile him up if he kept denying Jenna’s suggestions. So instead, he chose something neutral.

“It’s not like that.”

Jenna’s voice softened. “I didn’t say it was anything. I just said... you’re allowed to notice.”

He went quiet again.

Her tone shifted further, gentle now. “You’ve been closed off for a long time, Ty. And I get it... I do. But it’s okay to let someone see you.”

He stared at his tray, unmoving.

“It’s been years,” she said. “Since...," she paused, not daring to say that name. "Since you let anyone in. And I know it hurt, but... Josh isn’t-"

"Please stop," Tyler cut in, his voice low, almost a whisper. Pleading.

And Jenna instantly did. Instead she reached out, squeezing Tylers forearm gently in a silent apology. No pressure, no words. Just the kind of quiet understanding she always knew to offer. The kind that made her the only person Tyler ever let this close.

He knew she hadn’t meant to hurt him. He knew she meant well.

It's just...

"Its not like that." he said, tone firm, final.

Jenna didn’t argue. She just sipped her coffee, eyes level with his, waiting.

Tyler looked away first. He wasn’t lying. Not really.

He didn’t like Josh. Not in any meaningful way. Josh was irritating and loud and took up too much space in every room he walked into. He couldn’t follow a schedule to save his life, treated rules like suggestions, and flirted like it was a competitive sport.

Tyler didn’t like that kind of person.

But...

He was attractive.

That much he could admit. In the same way someone might acknowledge a thunderstorm was beautiful right before it knocked out the power.

It was just a surface thing. A simple fact. A response with no meaning behind it.

And that was where it ended.

He was fine.

...

He wasn't fine.

Not when he tore through the final stretch of the forest, his breath sharp in his chest and dirt kicking up under his sneakers. Not when the map from his bright team of kids led him straight to the cluster of colorful flags, and he snatched the first-place ribbon into his hand.

And definitely not when, a second later, Josh appeared right behind him, flushed and grinning, eyes catching on Tyler like he was more impressed than annoyed.

“Okay,” Josh said, panting as he slowed to a stop beside him, hands braced on his knees. “You’re fast. I’ll give you that.”

Tyler didn’t answer right away, still catching his breath. The forest stretched quiet around them, shaded and warm, the sounds of excited kids echoing further down the trail where the rest of the teams were still catching up.

The afternoon game had been a team effort: kids solving puzzles and riddles to earn pieces of a map that led to the treasure. But the final run? That was on the counselors.

Which was how they ended up here.

And Tyler didn’t fully realize how screwed he was until it hit him that they were suddenly very far from their teams, very far from anyone, and very much alone in the middle of the woods.

Josh straightened up, wiped a streak of paint from his jaw with the back of his wrist, and stepped in to grab the flag for second place.

“Second place today... but I’ll get you next time,” Josh said, voice lower, lazy with a smile. “Trophy’s not safe yet.”

Tyler exhaled. Not a laugh, but close. He turned slightly, flag still clutched in one hand, and looked at Josh full-on.

"Yeah.. keep dreaming, golden boy."

Josh tilted his head, still catching his breath. “You don’t like losing, do you? Always this competitive?” His tone was light, teasing. “Or is it just me bringing it out in you?”

“I’m competitive with everyone. You’re just louder about it. Kinda makes me wanna win even more.”

Josh chuckled softly, but his eyes didn’t move off Tyler’s face. There was something in his gaze now, still playful, but sharper around the edges. Focused. Curious.

And Tyler felt it. That small, sudden twist in his gut. That stupid spike of heat in his chest. The one he’d been denying for days.

"So you’re saying I'm your motivation?" Josh asked, taking a small step closer.

Tyler scoffed. "If anything, you’re a distraction."

Josh’s eyebrows lifted, not even trying to hide his delight. “Ohhh... and how exactly am I distracting you?”

Tyler scrunched his eyes shut and shook his head, slow and self-disappointed. He’d walked right into that one, hadn’t he?

"Don't make this about you," Tyler answered instead.

"No, please- ” Josh stepped in a little closer, voice lower now, curious and way too amused. “I’d love to know. Is it my voice? My smell? My sparkling personality?”

He paused. Then that shit-eating grin spread across his face. He quickly glanced around, then looked back at Tyler as his hand slid to the hem of his shirt.

“Or is it…” He lifted the fabric just enough to reveal his abs, golden and taut under the afternoon sun. “...this?”

Tyler’s mouth went dry.

He looked- of course he looked- at the curve of Josh’s stomach, the sharp dip of his waist, the way the light hit his skin. His thoughts stalled for a beat too long, and when he dragged his eyes back up, Josh was already watching him watch.

“’Cause if that’s the case…” Josh let the fabric fall back into place, “I’ll make sure to walk around without a shirt more often.” He threw in a casual wink, like it was no big deal.

Tyler’s throat worked around a word he didn’t say.

Josh took one step back, like he was doing Tyler a favor.

“You know,” he added, soft and smug, “for someone who doesn’t like me, you’re very good at staring.”

And with that, he turned around and jogged off toward the sound of campers, leaving Tyler in the woods, heart hammering, heat crawling up his neck, and absolutely not fine.

Chapter Text

The sky was finally clear again.

After a full day of relentless downpour, the clouds had lifted sometime during the night, replaced now by the unforgiving heat of the sun.

For a brief moment, the camp shimmered in the aftermath of rain. Puddles sparkled in the early light, but they evaporated quickly under the sun’s glare. The squelching grass soaked up the last of the moisture within the hour, and by lunchtime, it was as if the rain had never happened at all.

It was almost hard to believe that just yesterday, it had been raining so hard they’d had to cancel the afternoon obstacle run. It was too slick, too dangerous, so they pivoted to a backup plan that felt like a logistical compromise: board games in the main hall. Safe. Dry. Contained.

Today, though, Tyler and Mark were setting everything back up... stakes in the ground, flags untangled, stations spread across the forest edge, all while the kids relaxed in their cabins during the midday break.

Tyler glanced across the field at the sound of a high-pitched laugh.

There they were... the group of counselor girls perched on the wooden crossbar near the stables, legs swinging lazily, laughter spilling into the warm air. And right in the middle, of course, sat Josh.

Clearly the source of whatever they were laughing at.

He was wedged between Morgan and Debby, though Debby was sitting noticeably closer to him, maybe even brushing her thigh against his as they swung their legs. Her shoulders turned toward him, just enough to show she was fully tuned in.

Tyler exhaled slowly through his nose and returned to the rope in his hands, tugging the end tighter than necessary as he wrapped it around a low branch.
It was the same thing he’d seen yesterday...

...The storm had started just after lunch, and by two o’clock, thunder was rumbling low enough to rattle the windows of the mess hall. The kids had barely noticed, half of them were locked in high-stakes games of Uno or Scattergories, the other half building elaborate pillow forts under the supervision of exhausted counselors.

Tyler had claimed a spot at the back of the room, half supervising, half sorting through soaked clipboards and supply lists, trying to salvage what he could for the week ahead.

And somewhere across the room, Debby was laughing. Again.

He looked up without meaning to. Josh and Debby were sitting at a table near the front, playing some modified version of Pictionary with a handful of campers. Debby was drawing, Josh was guessing, and the kids were howling with laughter at whatever monstrosity was taking shape on the paper.

She was leaning in close, smiling in that way that was just a little too hopeful. Her fingers brushed his wrist as she passed him the pencil. Josh smiled, said something that made her laugh again.

It wasn’t obvious. It wasn’t dramatic. But Tyler saw it.

He’d been seeing it.

Tyler was observant... and he knew Debby.

He knew her for the shy, tender girl she was. Always quick to help, always ready to support whoever needed it. There wasn’t a single vile bone in her body. She wore her heart on her sleeve and saw the best in everyone.

So of course Tyler noticed that she had a bit of a crush on Josh. He saw it in the way she looked at him, the way she leaned in a little too long, the way her fingers brushed his arm whenever the moment allowed it.

Her intentions were soft. Quiet. Easy to miss. Tyler wasn’t surprised Josh hadn’t picked up on it.

Josh wasn’t flirting back, not really. He was just... Josh. Friendly. Warm. Bright. But Debby was sweet, and by the looks of it, she probably believed there was something more there.

The longer Tyler watched, the tighter the knot in his stomach pulled.

He didn’t understand why, but he figured it was probably because he cared about Debby and didn't want to see her heartbroken.

...

Tyler blinked, coming back to present, back to himself as the wind shifted and rustled the branches above. He tightened the final knot on the post, brushing dirt from his hands. He stepped back to survey the course with his arms crossed. The rope lines were taut, cones evenly spaced, color-coded flags fluttering in the post-rain breeze. It seemed that everything was set.

Mark appeared beside him with a lifted fist, and Tyler didn’t hesitate to bump his own against it, grinning cheekily at his friend. They were proud of this one. Ten obstacle stations, each more fun than the last.

Tyler was sure the kids were going to love it.

“Good job, man,” Mark said, ruffling Tyler’s hair as they both admired the complexity of the course.

“Yeah… thanks for the help and insight, as always,” Tyler replied.

“Always happy to help, Ty.” Mark grinned and gave his shoulder a light bump before glancing at his watch. “Oh hey... we’ve still got some time to spare.”

Tyler just nodded in acknowledgment, squinting slightly as the sunlight caught his eyes, turning them almost golden.

“All right,” Mark said, already turning to go, “I see Josh is busy entertaining the ladies, I’m gonna take that as my chance to sneak in a nap while he’s out of the cabin," he said and walked off without waiting for a response.

Tyler lingered a moment, eyes skimming the crossbar by the stables. Debby was still there. Still laughing. Josh said something then, something light that made Debby laugh and shake her head, and he reached out, brushing something from her sleeve. Pine needles maybe. A leaf. It didn’t matter.

The contact lingered longer than it needed to. Tyler looked away.

He wasn’t annoyed. Not exactly.

Josh could flirt with whoever he wanted. He was practically made for it. He didn’t even realize he was doing it half the time. Tyler knew that. Josh was just friendly. With everyone.

Still... Tyler’s chest felt tight in a way he didn’t know how to name.

He stood there, debating, weighing his options. Either he could join the laughing group by the stables, or retreat to the peaceful quiet of his cabin. With a final glance at the group, at Debby’s hand resting on Josh’s arm, he decided on the latter.

This summer, Tyler had lucked out and scored a cabin all to himself. No roommate. No distractions. Just uninterrupted sleep and enough space to make a mess if he wanted to.

The numbers had worked in his favor. Counselor cabins were always meant for two. Debby roomed with Morgan. Mark roomed with Josh. Which left Tyler and Jenna. But Jenna kind of lived at camp. She had her own room in the director’s building- a courtesy of dating said director for the past six years.

There was also the courtesy of being Jenna’s good friend. Because even though Mark had been the senior counselor for eight years, Tyler was the one who ended up with a room to himself.

And honestly? It was a blessing.

Because if Mark had gotten the solo cabin, that would’ve meant Tyler rooming with Josh.

And the thought of that alone made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with a silent thrill. Or dread. Or something far too close to both.

Tyler had about twenty minutes to spare before the camp anthem would start blaring across the grounds.

He used them to change into something less sweaty, even though he knew full well the fresh clothes wouldn’t stay that way for long, not with the obstacle run happening in just a few minutes. It was nice to wear something that felt clean and loose, not plastered to him like a second skin.

At least today, the counselors were just supervising. One per team. No running, no crawling through the mud. Just watching and guiding.

Six counselors. Six teams. Dozens of daily challenges, each offering a chance to earn points. The system was simple: the more challenges your team won, the more points you got. And at the end of the session, the team with the highest score took home the camp trophy.

Tyler had claimed it last session and he planned to do it again...

The twenty minutes passed faster than he expected. Before he knew it, the opening notes of the camp anthem blasted through the speakers, echoing across the trees and pulling both campers and counselors out toward the main field.

The six teams gathered at the edge, counselors herding them into loose clusters of color-coded bandanas and excited chatter. Once the music faded and the crowd had settled, Tyler stepped forward to explain the rules for the afternoon’s challenge.

He may or may not have been looking pointedly at Josh when he went over them.

He glanced toward the far end of the field, locking gaze with Dave and giving him a silent signal. He blew his whistle, signaling the start of the challenge. Kids burst forward like a dam had opened, barefoot and shouting, arms pumping, laughter cutting through the air like birdsong.

Tyler’s team took the lead early. One of his campers- a wiry, sharp-eyed girl named Alina- climbed the net wall like it was nothing, high-fiving another camper before disappearing into the crawl tunnel. Behind her, Mark’s team was gaining ground, Morgan’s not far behind.

And then... there was Josh.

Two of Josh’s campers, Max and Rio, were struggling with the water station... a shallow pit made slippery by yesterday’s rain, meant to be crossed by walking a thin wooden plank. Max was nervous, arms flailing as he wobbled near the edge. Rio kept glancing around like he was searching for an alternate route.

“Balance, Max! You got it!” Josh called, jogging up alongside them, full hype mode engaged, willing them forward with his voice. "Come on, yes! Oh wait.."

Tyler was too busy helping his own kids to pay close attention to whatever Josh was currently up to, but he was almost certain it involved some kind of mischief. Still, he managed a quick glance back.

Josh was crouched now, whispering something to them both, then stepped back and gestured dramatically toward a nearby log that wasn’t part of the obstacle but would technically get them to the next station.

Max and Rio looked at each other, grinned, and jumped down from the plank, darting across the log instead.

The kids in their team cheered. Josh cheered louder.

Tyler shot him a warning glance, but Josh was too busy soaking up the cheers to notice.

Technically, he wasn’t cheating... He never did anything outright disqualifying, but he was bending the rules like they were bendy straws. Turning obstacles into optional suggestions. And of course the kids loved him for it.

Tyler clenched his jaw as Max and Rio whooped with pride and slapped Josh’s palm before sprinting toward the rope maze.

Across the field, Josh caught Tyler’s eye, and winked.

Tyler didn’t even flinch.

He turned back to his own team, forcing his focus onto their progress as they raced through the course. His team was still holding the lead- just barely. Mark’s group was trailing close behind, and Jenna’s had picked up speed at the puzzle station.

And then came the final leg: the memory challenge.

Each team had to memorize a pattern from a color board displayed earlier in the day and replicate it using giant colored blocks on the far end of the field. It was meant to test observation and cooperation—a final, mental sprint before the finish line.

Tyler’s team arrived first. His kids spread out like they’d rehearsed, calling colors, arranging blocks, working in quiet, focused sync.

Josh’s team showed up last.

Max, Rio and eight more kids skidded to a stop in front of the color blocks, panting and laughing. Josh strolled up behind them, looking almost unbothered, bouncing a tennis ball in one hand like he was on recess duty instead of in the final stage of a scored event.

Then, without warning, he threw the ball toward the puzzle board. It bounced, hit the edge, and knocked one of the color panels loose.

Tyler’s head snapped up.

Josh grinned and turned to his team. “Guess that’s what we call a hint.”

The campers erupted. Cheering, shrieking, practically vibrating with excitement. Josh didn’t stop them, just joined the chaos with that ridiculous grin, high-fiving Rio again as the team rushed to copy the pattern.

They finished in seconds. Loud, messy, euphoric.

And somehow… correct.

Tyler’s heart dropped.

Dave moved to check their board. He paused. Squinted. Then nodded slowly. “It’s… technically right.”

“Of course it is,” Josh said, leaning casually against the nearest tree like he hadn’t just incited full-blown anarchy in front of the entire camp.

Dave blew the whistle, signaling the end of the round. Josh’s team... Josh’s team... had won.

Kids ran toward him screaming, jumping, climbing over each other to celebrate. Max was on someone’s back. Rio was dabbing. Josh ruffled everyone’s hair at once like some goddamn mythological hero.

Tyler didn’t move.

He was frozen on the edge of the field, jaw tight, blood loud in his ears. It wasn’t about the points. It wasn’t even about the trophy. It was the fact that he followed every rule. And Josh didn’t.

And no one cared. Not the kids. Not Dave. Not even the score.

Tyler inhaled slowly and walked towards his team. He patted them all on the back, telling them they did a great job, high-fiving a few of them. Did everything he could to make them feel like they’d won something too.

All the while, his blood simmered beneath the surface.

But Tyler didn’t make a scene. Not in front of the kids. Not when it still mattered.

...

The sun had long since dipped below the trees, leaving the camp bathed in the deep blues and purples of early nightfall. The bonfire cracked high in the center of the clearing, golden light flickering across a dozen kid-shaped silhouettes sprawled on blankets and logs. Sparks popped into the air like fireflies before vanishing into the dark.

Marshmallows glowed at the end of long sticks. The smoke curled soft and sweet through the breeze, carrying laughter and campfire songs and the smell of burnt sugar.

Tyler sat on a log near the edge of the circle, just far enough from the flames that the warmth kissed his shins but didn’t touch the tight set of his shoulders. His arms rested on his knees as he quietly watched the kids carefully navigate the firelight and the counselors catch up in easy clusters.

Josh stood across the fire, half lit in an orange glow, one hand holding a cup of juice like it was something worth toasting. He was mid-story, animated and loud, talking mostly to Mark and Morgan, but his voice cut through the hum of kid chatter like it always did. And Tyler heard every word.

“…and then Rio just leapt across the log like he was born for it, and Max? Absolute ninja mode. I swear the only reason we won was because we trusted the chaos.” He laughed, tipping his head back. “I mean, creativity has to count for something, right?”

Mark clapped him on the back. “Jeez, you’re a menace.”

Josh raised his cup. “A victorious menace.”

Tyler said nothing.

He stared into the flames, jaw tight, teeth pressed together behind a perfectly still expression.

He could feel Jenna’s gaze flick toward him once. Just once. But she didn’t say anything, and he was grateful for that.

But of course Josh kept talking. Replaying the win. He wasn’t being cruel. He wasn’t gloating. He wasn’t even directing it at anyone, not even Tyler. Not really.

And maybe that made it worse.

Because Tyler realized that he genuinely didn’t see it. Didn’t get it. He didn’t see how his effortless charm made a joke out of the structure Tyler had built from the ground up. He didn’t see the work Tyler put in to make things run smoothly.

Josh just won, and smiled, and told stories by the fire like it was the best thing that had happened to him all summer.

And Tyler just listened, waiting for some kind of opportunity, for a break in the conversation, a moment where the other counselors peeled off to check on kids or grab another round of marshmallows.

And soon enough, that opportunity presented itself- in the form of Josh conveniently making his way over, unaware of Tyler’s intentions.

He turned toward the table behind him, humming something under his breath as he reached for the juice jug.

Tyler stepped up beside him.

“Can we talk?”

Josh looked up, still half-grinning. “What, now?”

Tyler didn’t answer right away. He just held his gaze. Steady. Flat. Not angry, controlled.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he said softly.

Josh blinked, brows lifting slightly. Then, maybe for the first time that day, his smile faltered. Just a little.

But he followed.

Tyler led them, almost unconsciously, to the storage room just around the corner. The door clicked shut behind them with a dull, final sound. The small room smelled faintly of old rope, dry wood, and sunscreen. A single bare bulb hummed above them, casting soft yellow light over stacked bins and the shadows of hanging supplies.

Tyler stood near the center. Josh leaned against a shelf, arms crossed, still a little out of breath from the brisk walk over.

He wasn’t smiling anymore.

“I’m assuming this isn’t about sharing the last brownie,” he said, tone lighter than his eyes.

Tyler ignored the bait.

“I wanted to talk,” he said carefully, “about the game today. Because I think there’s a difference between having fun and… undermining the system that’s been working.”

Josh raised a brow. “Oh... you mean your system.”

Tyler inhaled slowly. “The camp’s system. The one we all agreed on at the start of the session.”

Josh pushed off the shelf. “And I followed it. Technically.”

“Exactly,” Tyler said. “Technically. You always skate the edge of what’s allowed, and I get it... the kids love it. But when you keep bending the rules just enough to make the rest of us look uptight, it stops being about them and starts being about you.”

Josh blinked, clearly not expecting that.

Tyler pressed on, voice steady. “You’re good with the kids. No one’s denying that. But that doesn’t give you a free pass to make every challenge a joke.”

Josh scoffed. “Oh.. So that’s what this is really about?”

Tyler frowned. “What?”

“You’re just pissed I won.”

Tyler stared. “That’s not-”

“Oh please,” Josh cut in, his voice sharp with disbelief. “Don’t try to deny it now. You’ve been stewing all day, and the second your team didn’t win, suddenly I’m the bad guy.”

“That’s not what this is,” Tyler said, stepping forward once.

Josh raised his chin. “Then what is it? Because from where I’m standing, it looks a hell of a lot like bruised pride.”

Tyler exhaled through his nose, jaw tight. He tried... really tried... to hold it together, to stay above it. He’d walked into this storage room with the full intention of being reasonable. Calm. He’d wanted to explain, to find middle ground, to make Josh understand.

But now, with Josh standing there , smug and clueless and so sure he was right, and something in Tyler just… snapped.

His composure slipped, caught on the edge of something raw. He was tired of explaining himself. Tired of pretending this wasn’t personal anymore. Tired of Josh always lighting a match and acting surprised when it burned.

His voice dropped, sharp and bitter as he stepped in, just slightly closer. .

“Oh, you’d be the one to know something about pride.”

Josh’s brows drew together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tyler pressed on, he was already too far in.

“You think just because the kids like you, you’re right?” he asked, stepping closer. “That just because you’re loud and charming and have a nice smile, you get to do whatever you want?”

Josh blinked, caught off guard by the sudden turn. He took a step back, only to feel his back collide with the shelf behind him.

“It’s not about-”

“You made a joke out of the challenge,” Tyler cut in, stepping forward again. "Mark and I worked on that for hours, only for you to turn it into a goddamn performance.

Josh swallowed hard, staring at Tyler like he was seeing him for the first time.

“And congratulations,” Tyler went on, his voice low, sharp with restrained fury. “You got the win. You got the cheers.” His jaw tightened. “And the rest of the kids got a front-row lesson in how unfair life can be when the one who follows the rules gets nothing for it.”

Josh opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Because Tyler was so close now. Closer than he’d ever been. His voice was still, low, but biting. Hot with frustration. Josh could feel the heat in every word. Could feel the actual heat radiating off of him, too.

He stopped fighting back.

Stopped thinking.

Tyler was still talking, but Josh heard it like it was underwater... muffled, distant, irrelevant. His focus narrowed to the way Tyler’s skin glowed in the low orange light, the way his crooked bottom teeth showed with every other sharp, scolding word. All he could really register was how close Tyler was.

Tyler didn’t even notice at first. His pulse was too loud. His mind too fogged with everything he hadn’t said yet. He was still moving forward, still speaking, still-

Josh didn’t answer.

He didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe, probably.

And that’s when Tyler realized it.

The space between them was gone.

And Josh was looking at him like… Like something had changed. His eyes roamed across Tyler’s face, wide, searching, his mouth slightly open, lips still glistening with the remnants of saliva.

Tyler could still hear his own voice, sharp and scathing, but his brain had already shifted focus.

Suddenly, the air around them shifted, slow and electric. There was no anger now. Not anymore. But something else. Something heavier. Hungrier.

As the silence settled thick around them, they became acutely aware of each other’s breathing...ragged, uneven. They could feel each other now, buzzing with heat and tension, something magnetic forming between them, pulling them tighter with every second that passed.

Tyler’s eyes flicked to Josh’s mouth before he could stop himself.

Josh noticed, and without meaning to, he mirrored the movement. His hands twitched by his sides, suddenly craving movement, craving contact. To reach out, to grab and hold and... to not let go.

But he didn’t dare.

Not when Tyler was looking at him like he was either about to punch him… or kiss the hell out of him.

For a moment, the time slowed down.

Tyler’s eyes flicked back up to Josh’s, shifting between his left and right, like he was searching for something hidden behind them. Like he could see the whole universe unraveling in the depth of his irises.

It only lasted a second though, then his gaze dropped. First to Josh’s mouth.

Then lower.
To his neck, slightly smudged with dirt from the bonfire. To his collarbones peeking out beneath his loose tank top. To the sweat-slicked skin, glowing in the low light, practically begging to be licked.

For a brief, dangerous second, Tyler wondered if the skin would taste salty… or just gross. He wondered if Josh’s breath would hitch if he leaned in, just those few inches, and found out.

For a moment, in this slow-motion stretch of suspended reality, he wondered how soft Josh’s lips would feel.

If he’d gasp.

If he’d groan.

If he’d let Tyler bite down and-

He was snapped out of the moment by his own sharp inhale. He hadn’t realized he’d stopped breathing, but he had. And now his sudden need for oxygen shattered the moment.

He looked at Josh like he’d been burned. Then took a step back, heart racing, panic unfurling behind his ribs.

Then he looked up - one last time, Josh’s mouth slightly parted, eyes dark with something Tyler couldn’t name.

Startled. Wanting. Waiting.

Tyler turned on his heel and left without a word, leaving a stunned Josh behind- still standing in the middle of the storage room, still burning with the heat of something almost-happened.

Chapter Text

Tyler lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling of his cabin like it might offer answers if he just looked hard enough. Outside, the crickets were loud. A few distant voices still lingered from the bonfire, soft and fading. The camp had mostly gone still. Quiet.

He couldn't say the same about his mind.

He turned onto his side, then back again. The sheets were too warm. The air was too heavy. Every part of him was buzzing with leftover tension he just couldn’t shake. He might’ve left the storage room physically, but mentally? He was still there. Even now, hours later, the memory kept looping.

The way his original intentions of being calm and reasonable had shifted so quickly, into frustration, anger, heat. The way he cornered Josh without meaning to. The way Josh backed up. The way his breath caught. The way he stopped talking when Tyler got too close. The way he looked at Tyler, quiet and stunned. Chest rising. Pupils blown. Lips parting like an invitation he didn’t know he was making.

Tyler swallowed and shut his eyes tight, but the image came anyway. He didn’t mean to wonder. But he did. And he was doing it again.

Wondering...

As he lay on his bed, Tyler let the thought creep in... What would it have felt like to close the distance?

Josh’s lips were right there. Open. Waiting. He wouldn't have stopped him. Would he?

He would probably taste sweet—like oranges and marshmallow smoothie. He’d probably hesitate, just for a second… before kissing back. Before threading his fingers through Tyler’s short hair. Before resting his palm at the back of his head, pulling him in, deepening the kiss. He’d probably groan, low in his chest, when Tyler opened his mouth enough to let their tongues meet.

Tyler ran a hand over his face, dragging the heat away. Tried to picture something else- anything else. But all he could feel was the ghost of that moment, the breath he didn’t take, the pull he didn’t let himself answer. And underneath it all, humming like static under skin, a single terrifying truth:

He’d wanted to.

Even just for a second.

Even though he swore he wouldn’t.

He’d wanted to.

God. The wanting.

Now it made his skin crawl with shame, made his gut twist up in a tight, aching knot he didn’t know how to loosen. He’d stood there in that tiny, musty room, shouting one second, and nearly kissing Josh the next. Like some live wire had sparked inside his chest and short-circuited everything rational.

He exhaled shakily, eyes still closed, the image of Josh coming up beneath his eyelids once again, sharp as a photograph. He shifted under the covers, the sheets clinging to his skin like they knew what he was thinking. Knew where his mind had gone. His hips twitched, small and involuntary. He let out a quiet breath through his nose.

God. It was nothing. They hadn’t even touched. Hadn’t even kissed.

And yet…

His whole body felt like it was still buzzing from the almost. From the faint scent of sunscreen and wood and sweat, from the way Josh had looked at him, like he was waiting.

And he hated himself for remembering it like that. For feeling turned on by something so messy, so confusing, so dangerously close to a line he’d sworn he wouldn't cross.

He shifted again, this time onto his stomach, pressing his cheek to the pillow like it might ground him. But his mind kept racing.

It’s just physical. It had to be.

He didn't even like Josh. If anything, he tolerated him. Ever since the summer started, the guy had done nothing but get on Tyler’s nerves.

So the attraction... this heat curling low in his stomach, the vivid way his body remembered that whole moment, it had to be something else. Something simpler. Tyler was sure it was just his body. His touch-starved, neglected body, betraying him.

He hadn’t... done anything with anyone in a long time. Not since... well. A very long time. And he hadn’t been in a relationship even longer. He’d gotten used to it. The distance. The quiet. The routine.

So maybe this wasn’t about Josh at all. Not really. Maybe this was just his body reacting to... proximity. To tension. To someone looking at him like that. Maybe it was just the adrenaline, the residual heat from the argument, the charged air of a small room and a pair of lips that had been too close.

It wasn’t Josh. It couldn’t be.

Whatever it was - or wasn’t - Tyler repeated those words in his head a few more times, over and over, until they finally softened the edge of his thoughts enough to let him doze off.

...

While Tyler was trying to rationalize his actions, trying to force himself to sleep, Josh walked.

He did that sometimes... when things got under his skin. When something didn’t sit right. Or when the buzz in his chest was too much to let him breathe.

The camp was quiet now. Tents zipped. Cabins dark. The embers of the bonfire had dulled to a faint, glowing orange behind him. His steps crunched against the gravel path as he veered off toward the edge of the woods. Not far. Just far enough that the quiet settled differently here. That the sky opened up wider.

His hands were in the pockets of his hoodie, thumbs brushing over the fraying seams, body still tight with whatever the hell had happened in that storage room.

He’d gone in expecting to get an earful, maybe smooth things over with a joke or two. But instead, he watched Tyler burn. Josh knew he’d messed up... knew it the second the high from the win faded and he saw the look on Tyler’s face. That heat had nothing to do with victory. That was disappointment. Hurt. And it cut sharper than he expected.

So yeah, the lecture wasn’t the part that threw him off.

It was what happened after. That moment where Tyler’s frustration twisted into that slow-burn stare. The closeness. The goddamn silence that said more than all the yelling before. And Josh had stood there, back against the shelf, heart pounding, watching Tyler lose control in the most electric way possible.

And for a second, for one breathless second, he was sure that Tyler wanted him.

Which meant… he hadn’t been imagining it this whole time.

The looks. The tension. The edge in every interaction. Josh had been low-key into him since day one... when Tyler barely glanced his way, when he spoke in that calm, distant voice that made Josh want to poke and prod just to see what would happen. He liked him. For some reason, he just... did.

And now, he knew Tyler felt something too.

But he also knew Tyler had walls. And after tonight, they were probably even higher.

And maybe Josh should back off. Maybe he should respect the walls, give him space, do the mature thing.

But that wasn’t really Josh’s style.

And if Tyler thought he could pretend none of it happened? That Josh would just forget the way he looked at him - like he was the only thing in the world worth touching - well, that was kind of cute.

Because now, Josh wasn’t confused anymore. Because now he wasn’t just guessing at the tension. Now he could aim for it. Nudge it. Tease it just enough to make Tyler crack. And maybe it wouldn’t be right away. Maybe it’d take days. Weeks. But Josh could be patient... when he wanted something badly enough.

And right now? He wanted to see just how long Tyler could pretend he didn’t want him back.

...

Tyler managed a few hours of sleep in the end. Not much, but just enough to function. Enough to let muscle memory take over his body the second his alarm went off. No time for thoughts. Just the rhythm of his everyday routine, safe, structured and necessary.

Wash up. Pull on the camp tee. Review the day’s schedule like he hadn’t already memorized it last night just to distract himself. Walk to the mess hall before the kids started flowing in, feet moving on autopilot, like routine might keep his thoughts from catching up.

By the time the rest of the counselors trickled into the hall, Tyler was already stationed at his usual table, back straight, fork moving from plate to mouth with mechanical focus. He nodded at Jenna. Exchanged a quick comment with Mark. Gave Debby a tired but polite smile.

And when Josh walked in?

He didn’t look up.

Didn’t blink, didn’t shift, just kept chewing like his pulse hadn’t kicked up the second he heard that voice echo through the wide space. Luckily enough, Josh had taken a seat at the far end of the table, next to Jenna and Morgan... far enough not to press.

The morning moved forward in fragments, kids yawning into their cereal, Jenna organizing groups for the morning horse rides, staff filing in and out like clockwork. And Tyler never stopped moving. Never gave Josh more than the corner of his gaze.

A few hours later Tyler had just finished organizing his workshop materials, arranging percussion instruments in neat little rows for the next music rotation. Drumsticks stacked evenly. Shakers separated by pitch. He liked this part of the day. The world was still quiet enough that he could pretend everything inside his chest was quiet too.

As he laid out the final music sheet on the table, he felt another presence in the room. Turning slightly toward the doorway, he spotted Jenna approaching.

Jenna’s footsteps weren’t loud, but she had a rhythm, a presence, like she moved with the space instead of through it. And now, as she appeared at his side with that travel mug in hand and an arched brow in place, Tyler felt his spine straighten instinctively. She didn’t say anything at first, just sipped her coffee and looked over his setup.

Then she gave him that look. The one that meant she was watching. Studying. Waiting. And when she finally spoke, her voice was just a little too casual.

“So… you and Josh almost did it, huh?”

Tyler’s heart stopped.

His hand, mid-reach for the tambourine box, froze in midair. His throat closed and he blinked hard at the ground like maybe he misheard her. But he hadn’t.

So naturally, his brain spun into a dizzying, horrifying tailspin, thoughts crashed into each other at light speed. Did she mean... that? Or just the argument? How would she even know? Did Josh say something?

He stood up too fast, knocking the table with his hip. The jolt of pain was barely noticeable beneath the rush of anxiety roaring through him.

“Wha-” His voice cracked. “W- what do you mean?”

Jenna blinked, taken aback by the level of panic in his reaction. “Wow, okay. Didn’t expect that kind of spiral. You’re acting like I don’t know you,” she said with a soft laugh.

Tyler’s mouth opened again, but nothing came out. His pulse roared in his ears. But Jenna just smiled faintly, sipping her coffee like she hadn’t just set off a nuclear detonation inside his chest.

“I meant the other day. After the obstacle challenge. You were basically steaming after the game. You were stewing all day, too. The air was thick with it, Tyler. I thought you were gonna deck him after the bonfire or something. I was... honestly kind of impressed you didn’t.”

Tyler exhaled like he’d just been punched, his fingers loosening their grip on the edge of the table he hadn’t even realized he was holding so tightly.

"Oh...Right. Yeah. That.”

Jenna leaned her weight against the wooden frame of the piano. “You never let anyone bend the rules like that. I was expecting something dramatic. Maybe a lecture. Possibly a clipboard throw.”

Tyler huffed... maybe a laugh, maybe a choke. “Yeah, no. No clipboard violence.” Tyler cleared his throat. “I was just… trying not to make it worse.”

She nodded slowly. “Wow. I’d almost say you’re maturing... if I hadn’t seen you ignoring him so hard all day,” she teased.

Tyler looked up. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised Jenna noticed. She knew him better than anyone. And yeah, he had been trying really hard to pretend Josh didn’t exist.

Maturing, sure. Or emotionally short-circuiting.

Inside his head, it was a symphony of chaos. He was still thinking about how close he’d been to kissing Josh, and now Jenna was casually congratulating him on not publicly murdering him.

Honestly, he might’ve found it funny, if it wasn't happening to him.

“So I just thought you should know,” Jenna added, tapping her fingers lightly against the piano frame. “He came to apologize about it. Seemed really regretful this morning, too. Not that you’d know, you haven’t looked at his face once since yesterday.”

Tyler’s head snapped up.

“He apologized?” he asked, disbelief heavy in his voice. “To you?”

His earlier panic gave way to confusion. He hadn’t expected last night’s fallout to land this way. Sure, once he snapped, he’d scolded Josh quite fairly, maybe even a bit harshly. But he was convinced Josh hadn’t taken it seriously. Convinced that whatever passed between them after that had overshadowed any chance of being heard.

Guess he was wrong. Maybe it was just him - spiraling about their “moment,” childishly avoiding Josh, pretending he didn’t exist…While Josh was the one actually maturing.

“Well, not to me,” Jenna said. “To Dave, obviously. I just happened to be in the room when he came to talk to him.”

Tyler blinked, then shifted his weight, almost like the floor had gone uneven beneath him. Something in his chest pulled tight. A thread of guilt, maybe. Or something messier.

And beneath all of that, buried under the tension and confusion, there was a quiet flicker of relief. Josh hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t told her. Hadn’t told anyone.
Tyler didn't breathe easier exactly... but something inside him loosened.

"Huh... what did he say?"

Tyler wondered if Josh had mentioned how he came to the conclusion that he’d been in the wrong. Dave must’ve heard him basking in his victory at the bonfire... surely he was curious what made Josh change his view on the whole thing.

“Just that… he got caught up in the moment. That it was fun, yeah, but not fair. That he hadn’t thought about the other kids. Or what it said to the rest of you.”

"What made him realize that he was out of line?"

Jenna shrugged, sipping her coffee. “I don’t know, Ty. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Tyler bent his head, picking at his fingernails. No thank you. One confrontation with Josh had been more than enough. God knows how the next one would end.

“Dave didn’t care anyway,” Jenna went on. “He just told him to apologize to you, since the run had been your project and all. Funny thing... Josh just scoffed at that. Said he’d been trying to reach out to you all day and you just... disappear every time.”

Tyler pressed his lips into a thin line. He’d thought Josh was trying to approach him for a very different reason. One Tyler hadn’t been ready to talk about. Or even acknowledge.

Jenna straightened up, gesturing vaguely toward the stables. “Anyway. Let me know if you want help here, with the next group. I’ll be over by the horses.”

Tyler nodded, eyes drifting back to the instruments.

And then she walked away, casually, like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t just triggered a full internal storm.

He exhaled slowly, trying to steady himself. Fingers traced the rim of a drum, fidgeting without purpose. Out the window, a flash of movement caught his eye. Across the lawn, Josh was walking, calm, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes fixed somewhere far off. He looked completely unbothered, like the world hadn’t shifted beneath both their feet the night before.

Tyler should’ve been glad he’d apologized. Should’ve felt relief, maybe even a flicker of closure.

Tyler should’ve felt relieved. Grateful, even. Josh had apologized. Had meant it, apparently.

But why did it feel like it only made things more complicated?

...

Later that evening, they found themselves scattered around the big fire pit again. Dinner had come and gone, the air settled into that perfect post-sunset calm, warm enough to sit comfortably outside, just cool enough to justify sitting close to the flames.

It had been Morgan’s idea, this little post-dinner activity. Something casual. Low-pressure. A way to wind everyone down after a long day. “Two Truths and a Lie,” she’d said brightly, and the kids jumped on it without hesitation. Tyler had lingered near the edge of the clearing, half-planning to disappear under the excuse of prep for tomorrow’s workshop.

But then Josh, because of course it was Josh, caught his eye through the dancing flames.

“Come on, Mr. Mysterious,” he called, voice lazy and warm. “Bet you’re scary good at this game.”

Tyler blinked once. Twice. Then, with a sigh that wasn’t quite as reluctant as it sounded, he took the empty seat beside Jenna.

The circle shifted, one by one, counselors and campers taking turns throwing out their three statements.. silly ones, safe ones. I’ve never been to a zoo. I hate spaghetti. I once fell out of a kayak. That kind of thing.

And then it was Josh’s turn.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, firelight dancing across his face. “Alright. Mine’s easy,” he said, glancing around. “I’ve never been kissed in the rain, I once broke a rule to win a bet…” he paused just long enough for effect, “…and I don’t have a crush on anyone at camp.”

A few campers giggled. Out of the corner of his eye, Tyler saw Debby blush, soft and sweet, and heard her laugh. But then something in her expression shifted. Her gaze slid from Josh… to Tyler.

Because Josh wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Tyler.

And for a moment, the fire wasn’t warm enough to explain the heat prickling under Tylers collar. Jenna shifted slightly beside him, as if she could feel it too.

Debby blinked, confusion blooming faintly on her face. Her laugh faded. She looked at Josh again, brow knitting just slightly. Tyler didn’t notice, he couldn’t. Because Josh was still watching him. And even though the kids were tossing out guesses...“The last one’s the lie!” “No way, it’s the bet thing!”... Tyler could only hear the third sentence echoing in his head.

Eventually, Josh looked away. Said something breezy like, “You’ll never know,” and passed the turn along to Morgan. The game kept going. Laughter bubbled back to life. The tension dissolved into the crackle of wood and the clatter of marshmallow sticks.

But for Tyler, the flames weren’t enough to warm the chill that had settled inside him.

Had Josh said that just to mess with him? To play his usual “effortless charm and not-so-subtle flirting” game?

Or did he actually mean it?

Tyler wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

But at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. He wasn't going to chase meaning where there shouldn't have been any.

Later, when most of the kids had wandered off toward cabins and the counselors were left dousing the fire and shaking sand from their jeans, Tyler caught sight of Josh again—across the clearing, half-lit in amber, hoodie slung over one shoulder.

He laughed at something Mark said.

Then, for just a second, he looked up.

Straight at Tyler.

They didn’t smile.

They didn’t speak.

But they didn’t look away either.

And something in that look lingered.

Chapter Text

Tyler spilled his coffee.

Not dramatically, not all over his shirt or the floor... just enough to splatter across the table, soaking into his camp schedule and turning the neatly printed lines into an unreadable blur. But it was enough. Enough to tell him that today was going to be one of those days.

He stood frozen for a second, paper towel in hand, blinking at the damage like maybe it would undo itself if he just looked disappointed enough. But it didn’t. Of course it didn’t.

He sighed through his nose and started blotting at the mess with a controlled kind of annoyance, the kind that came from knowing he had no one to blame but himself and no time to waste feeling sorry about it.

He wasn’t even halfway done when a pair of sneakers came thudding toward him across the mess hall.

“Tyler! Tyler!”

Jake, one of his team’s more excitable twelve-year-olds, skidded to a stop in front of him, panting and wide-eyed.

Tyler straightened immediately, wiping his hands on his sweatpants and turning his full attention to Jake. “Heyy, buddy. What’s wrong?” he asked, voice gentle.

Jake leaned forward, catching his breath. “It’s Milo. He’s not coming. I just saw him with Jenna—he looked super pale and they were taking him to that little cabin with the nurse lady.”

Tyler’s stomach dropped. “The infirmary?”

Jake nodded quickly. “Yeah. He looked bad. Like… almost-like-a-zombie bad.”

That made Tyler's heart twist. Not just because Milo was one of his best kids... bright, athletic, sharp, but because wherever Milo was, Hazel wasn’t far behind. And if they’d been separated first thing in the morning...

As if on cue, he heard a sniffle from the other side of the room. He turned his head just enough to spot Hazel entering the doorway and heading toward their usual breakfast table, arms wrapped tight around herself. Her team-colored bandana drooped lopsided on one shoulder.

Tyler sighed. “Thanks for letting me know, Jake. Go sit with the others, yeah? I’ll be right there.”

Jake gave him a quick, worried nod and scampered off.

Tyler stood still for a moment, palms flat against the now-damp table, eyes unfocused as he tried to mentally rearrange the entire structure of the day. The challenge ahead had been one of the most competitive of the summer. And even though only Milo was sick, his team was basically down by two.

Milo and Hazel. The inseparable sibling duo. The dream team. Always paired, always encouraging each other. If Milo was the muscle, Hazel was the heart. And without him, she was... well. Eight years old and heartbroken.

...

By the time the campers were done with their morning workshops, Tyler had already revised the team structure three times in his head, none of which made him feel any more confident. And when his team finally gathered after the midday pause, bleary-eyed and slightly less talkative than usual, he could already feel the difference. The usual energy, the bounce, the buzz of competitiveness… gone. Hazel stood sideways from the rest of the team, barely talking to anyone.

Tyler didn’t push. He just ruffled her hair gently as he passed and asked her if she felt okay, and tried not to let the growing weight in his chest show on his face.

The afternoon challenge was one of the most legendary camp traditions: Capture & Rescue.

It was a strategy-based relay with high stakes, both for bragging rights and for the trophy scoreboard. Every team had to complete some physical tasks, and memory checkpoints scattered across the camp - fast, efficient, and error-free.

The twist? Whichever team finished last had to forfeit their counselor. That counselor would then be “kidnapped” and hidden away by the others, leaving their team to work together to decode clues and rescue them before sundown. If they succeeded, they’d earn a chance to score bonus points.

Tyler had never lost this one. Not in five years.

He was the guy who helped to design half the course over the years. He knew how it flowed. Knew how to pace the kids. Knew how to win.

But with his team down two players, the challenge had never felt like less of a thrill.

With Milo gone, Hazel barely spoke above a whisper. The group dynamics had shifted. Tyler kept encouraging, cheering, pointing out shortcuts they’d used in years past, but the usual fire just… wasn’t there. They struggled from the beginning, froze up on the riddle challenge, and by the time they reached the finish line, the other five teams were already gathered there, sweaty and grinning.

His team trickled in, faces flushed and shoulders drooped. Tyler looked at his kids. Looked at the empty checkpoint flag still in his hand. And then up, just in time to meet Josh’s gaze from across the field.

Josh wasn’t smiling. Not gloating. Just watching. Quiet.

And then came the whistle.

Dave stepped forward with his clipboard, voice booming over the field. “Alright, campers! Scores are tallied, times are in... and while it was a close one, I’m afraid we do have a last place.” He glanced down at the sheet like it might have changed in the last second. Then, “Team Red, you’ll be on the rescue mission this afternoon.”

Tyler blinked.

Some of his kids groaned. Hazel made a soft sound, like she might cry again, and Tyler instinctively knelt beside her, putting a hand on her back. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly. “This just means you get to come find me later. You’re gonna have more fun while the other campers help the counselors with annoying chores.” He smiled. "And you’re gonna be the hero this time.”

She didn’t answer. Just leaned into his side for a second, silent. And Tyler looked at the rest of his team.

“You guys did great. I’m so proud of you. We just didn’t have the numbers today,” he said encouragingly, lifting his hand to receive a few half-hearted high-fives.

Then Dave’s voice called again from the front. “Counselor Tyler, you know the drill. Please report to the rec cabin to await… collection.”

The word hit like a slap. Collection. Right. This was tradition. Part of the game. All in good fun.

He sighed softly and stood slowly, brushing off his shorts and pasting on the kind of small smile he only wore when he needed the kids to feel okay. “Alright, team,” he said. “You know what to do. I’m counting on you.”

And with that, he turned toward the path, walking alone across the sunbaked field, every step heavy with the unfamiliar sting of what came next.

He sat at the edge of the tree line near the rec cabin, elbows braced on his knees, fingers laced together. The sounds of camp drifted faintly from the distance, shouts, laughter, the clatter of post-challenge cleanup, but here, in the quiet fringe of the woods, everything felt kind of muted. Slowed down.

He didn’t know where they were going to take him... probably somewhere deeper in the woods, where his kids could find him using the small clues they’d get from Dave or the other counselors.

But he wouldn’t know. He usually wasn’t the one being escorted, and he’d never been the one doing the escorting. That was always Jenna’s duty.

He figured she’d be the one to do it today, too.

He was wrong.

Because a beat later, it was Josh who appeared at the edge of the path, backlit by sunlight, hoodie tied around his waist, water bottle slung loosely in one hand. His curls were slightly wind-mussed and there was a smirk... no, a smile... already tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Like he’d been waiting for this. Relishing it.

Tyler didn’t move. Just stared at him, deadpan. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Josh slowed to a stop a few feet away and offered a mock salute. “Counselor Tyler,” he said, voice syrupy with false formality. “Your ride to doom has arrived.”

Tyler groaned internally, but kept his face carefully neutral.

“Oh I'm doomed already,” Tyler muttered under his breath, standing slowly. “You guys really enjoy this part, don’t you?”

Josh shrugged, eyes gleaming with something a little too pleased. “You usually do it to everyone else. Thought it was only fair we get to return the favor.”

Tyler dusted off the back of his shorts. “Right. Fair.”

Josh stepped aside, motioning grandly toward the path like he was leading royalty to the gallows. “Shall we?”

Tyler didn’t answer. He just sighed and walked past him, heading into the woods, pretending he didn’t feel Josh fall into step beside him—too close, too casual, just enough to make the air between them prickle.

Josh let the silence stretch for a few paces before breaking it. “So… how’s it feel? Being the one led to the sacrificial altar this time?”

It probably wouldn’t have felt so bad if it weren’t Josh leading him there, Tyler thought. Losing was already enough... finishing last in this challenge, of all things, dragging his feet through the woods toward some symbolic punishment, stewing in the aftertaste of defeat longer than he wanted to. But having Josh witness it all? That was almost too much.

Because of course it had to be Josh here with him. The only person who knew exactly how much Tyler hated losing, how much he relied on structure and control and winning. The person who got under his skin without even trying. The person who already knocked his balance off-center more than once this summer.

Josh, who showed up with that smirk and his too-slow swagger, and made this a hundred times more unbearable than it needed to be.

“Like a terrible dream,” Tyler said finally, voice flat.

Josh chuckled. “Aww, come on. You look good in defeat.”

Tyler just gave him a sideways glare.

The path twisted, leading them deeper into the trees, dappled sunlight flickering across their skin. Tyler stayed one step ahead, jaw tight, huffing a sharp breath every time Josh gave a new direction.

And Josh, of course, didn’t stop talking.

“I mean, I’ve gotta admit… this feels kind of historic,” he said, falling back into step beside Tyler with a lazy grin. “The great Tyler, champion of five years running, walking the loser’s path. You doing okay? Need a tissue?”

Tyler rolled his eyes but kept walking. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Josh shrugged, unbothered. “Maybe. A little. But mostly I’m just... savoring the moment. It’s not every day I get to see you flustered and brooding at the same time. It’s like a rare sun eclipse.”

Tyler frowned, shooting him a sideways glare. “I’m not flustered.”

Josh made a thoughtful noise. “Right. Just walking all stiff and quiet because you’re serene. Got it.”

Tyler didn’t respond.

He’d tried—really tried—over the past few days to put their little... moment out of his mind. To stop thinking about it. To stop feeling guilty about it. And most of all, to stop reliving it every time Josh got too close. But as it turned out, that was harder than he thought.

And right now, he was failing again.

Josh spoke after a few beats. “I’m actually kind of honored, you know. Being the one to escort you to your dramatic little exile. It’s... intimate.”

Tyler bit the inside of his cheek and drew a breath through his nose before turning toward him slightly. “It’s a camp game.”

Josh stopped walking.

Tyler kept going for another few steps before noticing the sudden absence at his side. He turned, frowning slightly, just in time to see Josh swing his bag off his shoulder and start unzipping it. When he caught Tyler’s look, Josh simply tilted his head toward a particularly large tree.

Oh.. They’d arrived at the final destination.

Tyler walked the few steps back, stopping where Josh had motioned for him to stand, eyes narrowing slightly as he watched Josh dig through his bag.

“Maybe it’s a camp game,” Josh said, finally pulling something free. Then, quieter, lower, he looked up at Tyler. “Still. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy tying you up.”

Tyler faltered.

...tying you up.

Oh. Right.

He’d kind of forgotten about that part.

Shit.

Josh held up the rope, letting it dangle between his fingers like some smug magician producing a trick. Tyler stared at it like it was about to strangle him on sight. Or maybe end his life in a more metaphorical sense.

Honestly, either would’ve been a mercy.

“Is that really necessary?” he asked, voice thinner than he meant it to be.

Josh’s grin only widened, eyes dancing with mock innocence. “Very. Binding the prisoner was part of the original rules, counselor. You wrote them, if I remember correctly.”

Tyler exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Unreal.”

Josh stepped closer, rope loose in his hands, tone dipping just a hair. “Come on. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Tyler met his eyes, too sharp, too curious, and suddenly the woods felt too quiet. The sunlight too warm. The breath in his lungs caught, held.

And he realized... this wasn’t just about the challenge anymore.

Tyler backed up until the tree trunk hit his spine, the bark rough against his t-shirt. He swallowed. “Can we just get this over with?”

Josh took another step. And another. Until he was close enough that Tyler could feel the warmth rolling off him. “Aw, don’t be like that,” he murmured, voice dipping low. “You’ve been in charge since the summer started. Let someone else take the lead for once.”

Tyler let his head fall back against the tree. Josh probably had no idea how deep that sentence cut. He wasn’t sure what was happening anymore. The line between camp games and something more personal was wearing thinner by the second.

And what unsettled him most was that it didn’t make him flinch. That he didn’t feel uncomfortable when Josh stepped even closer, rope in hand, gaze half-darkened and fixed on him like this version of Tyler, surrendered and waiting, was something worth claiming.

No... what Tyler felt beneath his skin was something else entirely. Thrill. Anticipation. A pulse of something dangerous.

Tyler took a deep breath, tilting his head forward again, locking his gaze with Josh as he stepped closer. Josh lifted the rope to Tyler’s chest, slow, deliberate, his eyes searching for any flicker of panic. But there was none. What he found instead was something much more magnetic.

Tyler was still tense, wired, like every nerve was lit up beneath his skin. Not flinching. Not resisting. Just holding himself there like a man bracing for impact and trying not to fall apart. His pupils were blown, chest rising too fast, jaw clenched tight. But his eyes...

His eyes were something else entirely.

There was a flicker of defiance in them... but beneath that, something softer. Something almost pleading. Almost vulnerable. Like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bolt or be touched.

For a short moment, Josh wondered if he hadn’t bitten off more than he could chew. But he swallowed that thought, and stepped closer anyway.

Josh looped the first wrap over Tyler’s chest, leaning into his space to pass the rope around the tree and draw it forward again in a smooth motion. Something shifted then, subtle but unmistakable. The air felt heavier, slower. They both felt it.

Josh’s voice dipped, low and almost intimate. “Let me know if it’s too tight,” he murmured, his breath brushing the side of Tyler’s neck as he looped the rope again.

The rope slid over his chest, firm but careful. Tyler could feel every shift, Josh’s knuckles grazing his arms, the pull of the cord against his clothed skin. The tug of the rope as it cinched him closer to the tree. The heavy, steady thump of his own heart. Then came Josh’s palm at his waist, steadying him, warm, and lingering a second longer than it needed to.

Josh leaned in again, wrapping another loop, voice practically in Tyler’s ear now. “You’re very still. That’s new.”

Tyler’s throat worked around a swallow. He was trying to think of something sharp to say, something to knock Josh back a step, but his thoughts lagged behind the sensation of Josh’s breath at his neck. He was focused on the way the rope pressed flush against his chest. On the way Josh’s fingers brushed his ribs like he was tuning an instrument and not tying someone to a tree.

“I’m trying not to punch you,” Tyler muttered finally, his voice quiet and dry.

Josh huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry. In a second, you won’t be able to.”

With that said, he looped the rope one final time, tying it off behind the tree before reaching into his bag for another bundle. This time, he wrapped it lower, around Tyler’s middle, somewhere between his hips and waist, just high enough to trap his forearms at his sides.

Tyler didn’t reply, jaw tight, heart pounding. He could feel Josh’s chest brushing his own every time he reached back to twist the rope behind the tree, the sound of his breathing too close, too steady. He hated how aware he was of every point of contact, how much his body was betraying him just from being this close. How his skin lit up with every little touch like it was starved.

Josh knotted the final loop with practiced ease, then rested his hand gently on Tyler’s shoulder, maybe for a beat longer than necessary.

“There,” Josh murmured. “Secure. Helpless."

And Tyler looked up at him, his eyes wide and filled with something Josh hadn’t expected to see. It wasn’t just irritation or defiance this time. It was something deeper. Something raw. It was like the second Josh took control away, Tyler forgot this was a camp game. Like the rope had flipped a switch inside him, one that left him breathless, aching, unmoored.

The want was back. Thick and alive beneath his skin.

But just beneath the surface, there was something else too... fear, maybe. Not of Josh, exactly. But of what it meant to surrender. To someone like him. Of all people.

Josh’s breath caught, his eyes flicking down to Tyler’s lips for a brief moment. It took everything in him not to do something reckless. Something stupid.

And then, before his last thread of control snapped, he stepped in just a little closer. Bent down, his mouth so close to Tyler’s ear it made the hair on his arms lift like static.

“Hope your kids take their time finding you,” he whispered, slow and smooth. “You look so good like this. It’d be a shame to waste all this anticipation.”

Then he stepped back. Slung the rope bag over his shoulder, gaze lingering for one last beat.

"Anyway, I'm gonna take a walk, but I can't really leave you here all alone so..." He paused, biting his grinning lower lip. "Scream my name if you need me," he said, his voice too soft for the double meaning tucked beneath the words.

And then he turned and walked off, unhurried. Not looking back. But inside, his pulse was pounding. His skin was too hot. His thoughts too fast. And none of it had anything to do with a camp game.

Because that last look Tyler gave him? That mix of desire and fear? It was like Tyler wasn’t afraid of Josh at all. Like Tyler was afraid of himself. Of what it meant to crave something. Of what it meant to feel.

But even with that fear, the hunger was louder. And it pulled Josh in like a moth to a flame.

And God.. he wanted too... So bad.

...

Tyler stood there, bound against the tree, heart thudding like a drumline beneath his ribs, skin buzzing, mouth dry. As soon as Josh’s footsteps disappeared into the trees, he let out a slow, shaky breath.

He tugged at the ropes once, just to be sure, but they held firm. Of course they did. Josh might flirt like a fool, but apparently he tied knots like a goddamn sailor.

The rope sat snug across his chest, and the problem wasn’t the discomfort. The problem was... how it all felt.

Josh’s closeness still clung to him. The warmth of his body leaning into Tyler’s space. His breath ghosting across Tyler’s cheek. Words, low and too soft, murmured right at his ear. And then his hands, steady, unhurried, adjusting the rope at his hips, fingertips brushing skin with a kind of gentleness that was definitely not required.

It didn’t take much for Tyler’s imagination to spiral. How easy it would be—for Josh to close the distance entirely. To let his hands wander. To press in and just... take what he wanted.

A low pulse of heat surged through Tyler’s body, settling with dizzying intensity below his waist. He panicked immediately, his thoughts scattering.

Oh no. Nonononono.

His kids were out there. On their way to find him. And here he was, tied to a tree, flushed, half-hard in the middle of the damn woods.

Jesus Christ.

That single horrifying thought... of one of them stumbling across him like this, was enough to douse the heat in his veins almost instantly. The arousal ebbed, but it left something worse in its wake.

Shame. Humiliation. A hot, cloying embarrassment that settled deep in his chest.

For a flicker of a moment, he hated Josh. Hated him for doing this, for getting under his skin so easily, for lighting up things inside him he hadn’t given permission to wake. He hated the way his body reacted, how easily it betrayed him, how starved it must’ve been to turn soft touches into something so consuming.

And worst of all, he hated himself for wanting it.

Because deep down, he knew... that if Josh came back right now. If he looked at him the way he had while tying that last knot? If he got any closer...

Tyler didn’t know what he’d do.

But he knew he’d already lost control.

Chapter Text

Milo was back.

His fever had broken overnight, and by morning, he was already bouncing on the balls of his feet like he hadn’t missed a single second of camp. He showed up to breakfast straight from the infirmary, full of energy, grinning ear to ear. Hazel clung to him like she was afraid he might disappear again.

Everything should’ve felt normal. The team was whole again. The kids were loud, happy, and glowing under the burn of the summer sun, the canopy above alive with light like nothing had ever gone wrong.

But Tyler… didn’t feel normal. Not even close.

He was still buzzing from yesterday.

He kept zoning out throughout the whole day, his mind looping through scattered snippets of whatever the hell had happened. Sometimes it took him back to the heat of Josh’s palm against his waist. Or the way Josh had looked at him, hungry, amused, murmuring that he looked good all tied up and helpless.

Other times, it took a darker turn. To the moment he was seconds from getting fully hard while his kids were out there searching for him. Or how that simmering arousal had fizzled just in time, mere minutes before they found him.

He'd tried to smile, to share their excitement, to celebrate the rescue with them like nothing was wrong.

But his thoughts had still been tangled in the woods.

Every time he caught himself zoning out, Tyler tried to shove the thoughts away, focus on his tasks, ground himself in routine. But today, it was harder than usual.

Today was a day without music, because half of the camp had headed into the woods for an all-day survival course with Mark, Debby, and Morgan, meaning Tyler had been stripped of his usual responsibilities. Too much free time. Too few distractions. And his mind just wouldn’t stop wandering.

And what made it even worse? Josh just wouldn’t leave him alone.

He was always somewhere nearby. And even when Tyler couldn’t see him… he could still hear him.

The other half of the camp - the ones who hadn’t signed up for the survival course - were supposed to be playing in some kind of sports tournament and Josh was leading it. Loudly.

Jenna and Dave were supervising, and technically, Tyler was supposed to be helping too. But he’d kept his distance, claiming that high-cardio activities in weather like this were simply not for him. Besides, between Jenna, Dave, and Josh, things seemed under control.

So after an hour of trying not to watch Josh’s athletic figure swoop through the air chasing a ball, he excused himself, said he felt a little dizzy, and slipped away into the quiet of the music room. He sat behind the piano and tried to will his thoughts toward chords and melodies instead.

That plan fell apart the moment Josh appeared in the doorway, shirtless and glistening like some kind of sun-touched menace. His chest rising, ball in hand, hair messy like he’d just sprinted across half the camp. Which, judging by his breathing, he probably had.

“You sure you don’t want in on the tournament?” Josh asked, grinning. “I heard you’re a beast at dodgeball.”

The light caught on the sweat beading across his collarbone, dripping slowly down his abs like it had a mission. Tyler didn’t let his eyes linger.

“No thanks,” he said, without looking up from the keys. “I’m allergic to balls.”

Josh blinked. Then smirked, clearly fighting the urge to say something wildly inappropriate. “That so?”

Tyler looked back at his sheet music. “That’s so.”

Josh didn’t press further, just smirked and wandered off again. But it didn’t stop there.

Josh kept popping up for the rest of the day. Always casual, always timed just a little too perfectly. Sometimes it was to “grab water” from the mess hall when Tyler happened to be refilling his coffee. Sometimes it was to “borrow a speaker” from the music room. Once, it was just to lean into the door, smirk, and say, “You looked bored.”

Every time, Tyler pretended to be busy. Shuffling sheet music, pretending to tune an instrument, adjusting things that didn’t need adjusting. Anything to avoid acknowledging the way his pulse ticked up the moment he sensed Josh nearby.

One time, it was Jenna checking in, calm and casual, like she hadn't just been running around all day. “You alive in here?”

Tyler flinched anyway, expecting Josh again, spinning around like he’d been caught stealing.

Jenna blinked at him. Then raised an eyebrow, amused. “Jeez, what’s got you so on edge? You’re twitchier than my horse before a thunderstorm.”

He muttered something about being deep in thought, but she didn’t look convinced.

...

When the accomplished survivors returned from their program, the camp’s energy was practically buzzing. Everyone knew that tonight was the camp disco-slash-karaoke-slash call it whatever you want, you were going to be dancing and singing either way.

The mess hall had been completely transformed.

Tables were pushed to the edges. String lights twinkled overhead. Tyler stood by the far wall, fine-tuning the two massive PA speakers through his Bluetooth mixer like a true sound engineer. Not that anyone at camp could really appreciate that.

When the sun finally dipped and the music started thumping, someone dragged out a plastic tub of glow sticks, and chaos followed. Kids went feral in the best way. Bracelets stacked to their elbows, necklaces tangled into neon halos, sprinting across the room like it was a light-drenched battlefield.

Tyler lingered at the edge of it all, shoulder to the wall, watching from the corner like he always did during these things. He wasn’t a party guy. Never had been. But something about camp made it different. Softer. Safer. Like the kids’ joy built a shield around the night, a glowing, messy bubble where nothing real could reach him.

Not even his own spiraling thoughts.

He was doing fine there, tucked into his corner, until his team spotted him. Hazel caught him first, small fingers wrapping around his wrist, tugging with a rare, bright smile. Before he could protest, Jake latched onto his other arm, and the next thing he knew, he was being hauled toward the center of the dance floor.

They swarmed him like he was some kind of camp celebrity, pushing him into the chaos, swinging his arms back and forth like puppeteers while stomping their little feet to the beat. The floor pulsed with that kind of laughter that could only come from sugar-highs and unfiltered joy.

Tyler gave in.

He let the music move through him, nothing dramatic, just a gentle sway, a small nod to the rhythm, then a little more when the campers cheered for his effort. He twirled Hazel under one arm, high-fived Jake, let the moment carry him like a tide. A few other counselors joined in soon after, hyping up the older kids to join them on the floor.

And for a while, it was enough.

Then Morgan grabbed a mic, The music cut after a particularly upbeat track, and her voice crackled through the PA as she stepped into the center of the room. A circle of kids gathered instinctively around her, buzzing with anticipation.

“Alright, alright!” she called out, a little louder than necessary. “Time for our special event... Karaoke Showdown! Campers - who’s going first?”

The kids went wild. There were squeals, chants, full-body bounces. One by one, they stepped up and sang everything from pop hits to songs from animated movies, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in enthusiastic, off-key groups.

It was chaos. It was perfect.

Then one of the bolder kids shoved the mic into counselor territory and started hyping everyone up, rallying the rest to chant for their leaders to sing.

Mark gave in first, belting out a rock ballad with so much confidence it basically became a camp anthem. Morgan followed with an over-the-top rendition of a Taylor Swift classic - complete with dramatic gestures and backup vocals from nearby campers.

Then came Josh, who took the mic with a grin - wide, cocky, all teeth and charm - and shouted, “This one goes out to all my adoring fans!”

The kids screamed. A Backstreet Boys track kicked in. They screamed louder.

Josh played it up like a theater kid with something to prove. He strutted. He spun. He even grabbed Mark for a brief boy band duet moment that had the kids losing their minds. By the time the chorus hit, Josh barely had to sing, the entire mess hall was yelling the lyrics for him.

When it ended, he was breathless and ridiculous, dropping the mic into Jenna’s hands before jogging a victory lap around the circle, collecting high-fives from everyone.

Tyler had to admit… he delivered. In true Josh fashion.

Jenna laughed, turning toward Tyler, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Well, I think it’s time we give Mr. Music himself a chance to defend his title.”

“Nope,” Tyler said, already raising his hands. “I am not-”

“Oh, come on!” someone shouted.

“Do it!” came another voice.

And then the kids were chanting his name, voices rising with gleeful momentum. “Tyler! Tyler! Tyler!”

Tyler rolled his eyes playfully, tilted his head toward the ceiling with an exaggerated sigh, then started walking to the front.

“Alright,” he said into the mic. “But if I do this, I’m doing it right.”

The room erupted in cheers.

Tyler gave them all a sly, enigmatic smirk as he strolled over to the laptop to choose his song. Everyone probably expected him to go for something moody and emotional.. some soulful ballad like the ones he usually played on the piano.

But this was karaoke. This was a party. And he was about to set it on fire.

When he stepped into the middle of the room, Morgan hit play, and the first few descending bass tones of DJ Khaled’s “All I Do Is Win” dropped through the speakers.

How poetic, right?

But no one had time to think about it, because the beat kicked in, and Tyler transformed. He came alive.
His body shifted into performer mode like muscle memory. All smooth swagger and tightly coiled confidence. He didn’t just sing... he owned the room. He paced the edge of the floor, eyes glinting under the lights, voice loud and commanding. At one point he held the mic out to the kids and they screamed the chorus back at him like their lives depended on it.

“Everybody’s hands go UP!” he called - and every single hand in the room shot into the air.

In less than a minute, he had the whole place jumping. Singing. Dancing. Riding the high with him.

By the time the track ended, the place was electric. The music didn’t stop. It just shifted, dance tracks back in full swing. Kids poured onto the floor, counselors too, everyone glowing under the disco lights and the high of the moment.

Someone started a circle. The kind where everyone claps and one person goes in the middle to show off. Cartwheels. Spins. Awkward jumps. Camp chaos at its finest.

Tyler found himself at the edge of it, laughing openly, flushed from his performance and the adrenaline. He didn’t even realize Josh had slipped beside him until he felt a nudge at his elbow.

Josh nodded toward the circle, smirking. “Your turn.”

“I already had my moment,” Tyler said, still a little breathless.

“Then you better help me with mine,” Josh said, right before grabbing Tyler’s wrist and pulling him into the circle.

And surprisingly… Tyler didn’t resist.

And then it was just them... Tyler and Josh, moving together without planning to. Nothing choreographed, just laughing, dancing, brushing shoulders, sharing one bright, shining second of unfiltered fun.

Tyler forgot himself. Forgot to calculate the inches between them. Forgot to care. And when Josh threw an arm over his shoulders and sang part of the chorus in his ear, Tyler laughed.

From the edge of the crowd, Tyler caught Jenna’s gaze. She was saying something to Debby, who was also watching the two of them, curiosity glinting in her eyes. When Jenna pulled away, the smile she sent Tyler’s way was soft. Knowing. A little too knowing.

Tyler tore his gaze back forward, just in time to see Josh already looking at him, grinning wide, eyes crinkled with mischief and something warmer beneath it. He leaned in, shoulder bumping Tyler’s with uncoordinated dance moves.

“I like seeing you like this,” Josh said, loud enough to cut through the music. No teasing. No smirk. Just… genuine. Real.

And just like that, the moment snapped.

Tyler’s breath caught. The crowd blurred. The weight of the evening crashed over him in one dizzying wave and suddenly, he wasn’t dancing anymore. His body stilled, movements faltering, like a string had been yanked inside him.

He realized, too late, just how unguarded he’d become.

The easy smile slipped from his lips. He looked at Josh one last time, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. Then he turned away, murmuring a quiet, “’Scuse me.” He slipped past the circle, out of the lights, down the hallway, and into the cooler air beyond the mess hall doors.

He needed air.

He needed to get away from it all.

He passed the main doorway, brushed by a few curious glances without seeing any of them. When he finally made it outside, he stopped by the porch and gripped the railing, knuckles tight, head spinning. He ran a hand down his face, fingers trembling. His skin still buzzed with heat, from the lights, the dancing, the way Josh had looked at him. The way he’d said it.

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, hard. Behind him, the faint crunch of footsteps made him freeze.

“Tyler.” Josh’s voice. Too close.

Tyler didn’t turn around. “Go back,” he said, the words thin, unsteady.

“What was that?” Josh asked, voice too light to be casual. “One second you’re laughing, dancing, actually having fun, and then you’re bolting like I pulled a knife on you.”

Tyler finally turned, fast. “I said go back.”

Josh stopped just a few steps away, eyes sharp under the low yellow light that spilled from the distant mess hall windows.

“No,” he said, steady. “Not until you tell me what I did wrong.”

Tyler huffed and turned again, taking a few more angry steps toward the stables. He rounded the corner, ducking into the comforting shadow of the building. But Josh followed. Of course he did.

“I didn’t even say anything that bad,” Josh said, frustration creeping into his voice. “You act like I dropped some kind of bomb, like I don’t get to say I like seeing you happy.”

“You don’t,” Tyler snapped, rounding on him. “You don’t get to- ” He bit the rest of the sentence off, too aware of how shaky it sounded. How shaky he sounded.

Josh stared at him for a beat, then stepped closer. “Why? Because I make you feel something?”

Tyler just clenched his teeth, turning around again, like he could escape it, like he could outrun the weight building in his chest. But he didn’t make it far.

Josh reached out and caught his wrist. Not hard. Just enough to stop him.

Tyler jerked to a halt, staring at the point of contact like it burned. His body went rigid, every muscle coiled tight, breath caught halfway to panic.

“Tyler,” Josh said, barely above a whisper. He stepped closer, his grip still gentle, still there.

Tyler backed up instinctively, but he was aware of the wall behind him. One more step and he’d have nowhere to go.

And suddenly, he was back in the woods. Back at that tree. Josh too close. Rope pulling tight. Except this time, it wasn’t knots holding him still. A breath caught in his throat. A want he couldn’t shake. A fear he couldn’t name.

"Why are you fighting this?" Josh asked, his voice low and quiet.

Tyler looked up at him, eyes wide, frantic, like a cornered animal. “There’s nothing to fight.”

Josh stepped closer, not buying it. “Oh please.”

Tyler’s breath caught.

Josh was in his space now, too close, too calm. He leaned in, his mouth brushing the air near Tyler’s ear, his voice rough, barely more than a whisper. “Just admit it. You want me.”

Tyler didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His throat tightened, lips parting without sound. Josh had him backed into the wall, his body radiating heat, his cologne thick with pine and warmth. Tyler swore he could hear Josh's frantic heartbeat.

His eyes flicked to Josh’s mouth, his jaw, back to his eyes. Like he was searching for an escape route and not finding one. And with every breathless second that passed, his grip on control slipped further.

Josh closed the last of the space between them, slow, careful. He was just inches away now. And Tyler was frozen, pinned between the wall and Josh’s body. Trapped in the intoxicating scent of him, in the heat rolling off his skin. Trapped by his own traitorous body, which ached for more.

Even in the shadow, Josh saw the shift in Tyler’s expression. The flicker of something raw and unguarded. His gaze dropped from Tyler’s eyes to his lips, and lingered. He licked his own without thinking.

Then he leaned in. Closer. So close. Testing...

His voice came low, barely a breath. “Tell me to stop,” he said, “and I will.”

Tyler didn’t speak. He didn’t move. Maybe he couldn't. Maybe he didn't want to.

Josh raised his hand, slow, fingers brushing Tyler’s cheek like a question he already knew the answer to.

“Tell me,” he whispered.

He looked into Josh’s eyes, dark, steady, unbearably close. Then down to his lips. Back up. His own mouth parted slightly, chest tightening with every second that passed.

It was like standing too close to a fire. Everything in him knew better, he knew he should step back. But he didn’t. He couldn't.

He wanted to burn.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he was the one who moved. Closed the final inch.

For a heartbeat, his brain short-circuited - white-noise static and nothing but the heat of Josh’s breath in his lungs.

Then he surged forward, fisting a hand into Josh’s shirt and pulling him in hard. Their mouths crashed together... hot, desperate, messy.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t cautious.

It was everything else.

A crash of heat and teeth and noise, Tyler’s hands gripping the back of Josh’s neck, Josh’s mouth hungry, urgent, their lips parting with a gasp as their tongues slid together like they couldn’t get deep enough.

There was no finesse, no plan. Just pressure and want and tension collapsing in on itself all at once.

And for a moment, Tyler gave in.

Fully.

Completely.

He kissed like a man starved, like something inside him had snapped loose. He licked deep into Josh’s mouth like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. His hand slid from Josh’s shirt to the curve of his back, yanking him closer.

Josh didn’t hesitate. He pressed in, chests colliding, hips locking, the heat rising between them like a fever they didn’t want to break.

Tyler’s hands tangled in the back of Josh’s hair, pulling him in like Josh was the only air left. Their mouths collided again, open, messy, greedy. Like they’d waited too long and couldn’t stop now even if they wanted to.

Josh shoved in close, hands gripping Tyler’s waist, grinding into him, rough and shameless. Tyler’s back hit the wall with a soft thud, and he didn’t care. He welcomed the pressure. Matched it. Met every thrust with one of his own, chasing friction like it was oxygen.

And for a moment, Tyler forgot it all. The rules. The fear. Even the damn wall behind him.

All that existed was Josh’s mouth, Josh’s body pressed hard to his, and the terrifying realization that he didn’t want it to stop.

Until-

A sudden burst of laughter shattered the night.

A small group of campers walking past on the other side of the stable, too caught up in their own jokes to notice what they'd nearly stumbled on. But their voices were loud and too close.

Tyler broke the kiss like he’d been electrocuted, shoving Josh back a step, chest heaving, eyes wide with horror.

He stood frozen, breath ragged, like it had just hit him. What he’d done. What they’d done. Out here. Where anyone could’ve seen. And what it meant.

Josh reached for him, already frowning. “Tyler, hey-”

“I- ” Tyler cut in, voice breaking, panic crawling up his throat.

Josh just stood there, lips swollen, breathing hard, watching him unravel.

Tyler stared at him, horror blooming fresh behind his ribs. “I- I can’t- ”

And then he backed up.

And ran.

Like if he ran fast enough, he could undo it all.

Josh stood there, frozen in the silence Tyler left behind.

His pulse still thundered in his ears. His mouth tingled from the kiss. His body ached with all the want he hadn’t had the chance to let out. The warmth of Tyler’s body was gone, but it still burned into his skin.

He dragged a hand through his hair, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a mile.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Because for one second, he’d had him. And then he was gone.

Again.

Chapter Text

Tyler didn’t remember running.

Only the sound of blood in his ears, the throb in his chest, the burn of adrenaline scorching every inch of his body.

By the time he reached his cabin, the music was already distant, smothered by the trees. The door clicked shut behind him with a shaky finality. He stood in the dark for a beat, just breathing.

Then he flicked on the small bedside lamp and paced - once, twice - raking both hands through his hair. Finally, he sat at the edge of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. His skin still tingled. His mouth still ached. His whole body buzzed with the aftershock of it.

He could still taste Josh on his lips.

Still feel the grip of his hands.

Tyler dragged both palms down his face and let out a shuddering breath. “Fuck,” he whispered to the quiet.

He wasn’t supposed to want this. Wasn’t supposed to chase it. And he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to kiss Josh back like he couldn’t get enough.

He climbed onto the bed, slumped against the pillows, and stared up at the ceiling like it might hand him a reason. He thumped the back of his head lightly against the wall.

His mind tried to spiral, panic clawing at the thought of being seen. By campers. By staff. By anyone. But even that fear couldn’t outpace the heat still coiled in his gut. That goddamn ache that refused to fade.

His eyes fell shut involuntarily as the image flashed behind them again.

He hated this. Hated that he couldn’t shut it off. That he couldn’t stop thinking about how Josh had felt pressed against him. About how right it had felt.

Tyler bit his lip as heat bloomed low in his stomach, pooling between his legs. He hadn’t realized just how much that one kiss had wrecked him until he looked down. The bulge in his pants was impossible to ignore. So was the heavy, throbbing ache beneath it.

He closed his eyes again, jaw clenched.

This wasn’t about Josh. It couldn't be.

It was just physical. Just his body reacting to something it hadn’t been given in a long time. He hadn’t touched anyone in... God, how long? Of course he was craving contact. Pressure. Release.

He tried to breathe through it. Focus on anything else. Keep still.

But it didn't fade.

And it hurt.

God, it hurt.

It ached deep in his gut, low and insistent. Every breath dragged fire through his veins. He shifted on the bed, hips twitching, trying to will it away, but that only made it worse.

Desperation prickled at the edges of his restraint.

He watched his own hand move in slow motion, as if he wasn't the one controlling it anymore. It skimmed his stomach, hovered just above the waistband of his jeans - fingers trembling, undecided. And then, traitorously, it moved. The final few inches. Sliding over the fabric of his pants. Pressing down against the heat

He inhaled sharply through his nose when his hand made contact with the hardness. His body jolted at the touch like it was starving. Like it didn’t care that he was trying so hard to pretend this wasn’t happening.

Since when did he become so fucking sensitive?

His fingers closed around the fabric-covered shaft, adding pressure. It helped take the edge off. But it wasn’t enough. Not even close.

He groaned low in his throat and popped the button open with one hand, dragging the zipper down slowly like it might make a difference. Like he still had some measure of control.

His hand slipped beneath the waistband with a silent promise to keep it clinical. Strict. Detached. But that didn’t last long.
Because Josh’s voice crept in. That rough whisper in the dark.

The way he’d say “God, look at you... so pretty,” with all that heat in his breath and all that need in his hands.

The fantasy came fast.

Josh’s mouth trailing down his chest. Josh’s fingers gripping his thighs.

And when Tyler’s hand moved again, it wasn’t his anymore. Not in his mind. It was Josh’s. Rough and sure. Sliding up the inside of his leg, thumbs pressing into his hips, holding him still.

He closed his eyes tighter, breath catching as he pumped slowly, rhythm building. The sheets rustled beneath him, but all he could feel was Josh - kneeling between his legs, dragging his tongue across the sensitive skin just above his waistband, eyes hungry, wild.

“Wanna taste you,” Josh would mutter against his skin, mouth open, breath hot. “Bet you’d sound so good falling apart for me.”

Tyler whimpered into the crook of his arm, hips twitching upward as he squeezed around himself harder, faster. He imagined Josh’s mouth wrapping around him, wet, warm and perfect. Imagined his own hands twisted in Josh’s curls, tugging, guiding, begging.

His back arched, pace growing frantic.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Josh- ”

Josh’s voice was everywhere now. In his ear, in his chest, in the way his fingers gripped, the way his mouth sucked, the way he’d whisper, “That’s it, baby. Let go. I’ve got you.”

Tyler did.

He came with a broken gasp, hips stuttering, body jerking as the pleasure ripped through him, sharp and overwhelming.

He went still, breath caught in his throat, the aftermath crashing into him all at once.

Tyler rolled onto his side, staring blankly at the far wall. He wiped his hand on a tissue, heart still pounding, breath still shallow.

The moment the edge faded, the shame rushed in. It hit him like cold water. His stomach twisted. His throat closed.

He’d made a mistake. A huge one.

...

"What the fuck, Tyler?!!"

The words hit like a slap across the back of his neck. Sharp. Loud. Way too close.

Tyler jerked upright just as the door to the counselors’ common room slammed shut behind them with a heavy, echoing thud.

He turned around to see Jenna standing in front of him, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes blazing. She looked furious. The kind of furious she rarely ever let herself get. Which was probably why it landed like a gut punch.

“You’ve been snapping at people all day,” she went on, voice lowered now but no less pointed. “Snappy with Debby, cold with Josh, short with the kids. And don’t think I didn’t see you nearly bite Morgan’s head off this morning for asking about extra extension cords."

She took a step forward. “What the hell is going on with you?”

Tyler’s mouth opened, then closed. Nothing came out.

He looked away.

How was he supposed to answer that?

Oh, you know... I kissed someone I shouldn’t have, got all worked up over it, came in my fist like a fucking teenager while imagining him calling me pretty and holding me down, and now I feel like shit. And confused. And fucked up.

His jaw clenched as he shifted his weight, eyes dropping to that old coffee stain in the carpet like it held some kind of escape. He already felt so ashamed. For snapping at people, for shutting down, for being so on edge all day because...

Because today, he couldn’t even look at Josh without replaying that kiss. Without replaying what came after.

Because jerking off to make it go away had only made it worse - left him raw, exposed, like every nerve was on the outside of his skin.

Because he couldn’t stop wanting it. And because wanting it made him feel weak. Vulnerable in a way he’d spent years trying not to be.

And now, every sound was too loud. Every kid was too clingy. Every look from Josh too sharp. Every breath felt like too much. And Jenna... sweet, dangerously observant Jenna, was staring at him like she could see all of that. And it was too much.

“Tyler?” she said again, softer now. Not angry, just worried. “Talk to me... Please.”

He could feel her eyes on him. Not prying. Just... steady. She knew him. She knew him. Maybe better than anyone else.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and taut. Tyler picked at the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve, shoulders hunched like maybe he could disappear into himself if he tried hard enough.

Jenna let it sit for a moment, then stepped towards him, her voice a thread softer still. "Did something happen yesterday? At the dance?"

Tyler’s fingers froze at his sleeve, breath catching. Jenna watched him carefully. No pressure, no judgment, just quiet patience. The kind that made it harder to lie.

"Did something happen with Josh?" She added gently.
Tyler’s throat closed.

God.

He wanted to deny it. Shake his head. Laugh it off. Say Josh was just being his usual self... loud, dramatic, infuriating. But the words stuck like glue behind his teeth.

Jenna took his silence for what it was.

“I saw you two yesteday,” she said gently. “Dancing, having fun. I saw the way you looked at each other. And then you both just... disappeared.”

Tyler’s eyes stayed locked on the floor, his jaw clenched so tight it ached.

“Ty...,” Jenna continued, “What happened after you left? Did you fight?”

Oh yeah, our tongues fought for dominance.. That's one way to say it.

He shook his head, barely. Then turned away, moving toward the couch along the wall. He dropped onto the cushion with an exasperated sigh, still staring at the same coffee stain like it might save him.

Jenna followed, sitting beside him with just a few inches of space between them. Her hand found his shoulder, warm and grounding. "Then what- "

“It wasn’t-” Tyler cut in, but the sentence snagged in his throat. He exhaled through his nose, the breath shaky. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Jenna’s concern deepened. She opened her mouth, another question ready, but he beat her to it.

“I kissed him.” His voice came low. Flat

He felt her still beside him.

“I kissed him,” he said again, softer now, like maybe saying it out loud would make it less real. “And then- then I ran away.”

There was a pause, and then Jenna exhaled slowly. “Okay,” she said. Just that. No shock. No dramatic gasp. Just… okay.

Tyler blinked at the coffee stain.

Jenna shifted closer, her hand moving in slow, steady circles over his back. “Why did you run?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just kept staring at the spot on the floor like it held all the answers. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible.

"Because it wasn't supposed to happen. Because we almost got walked on. Because I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.”

There it was. Out in the open. Heavy. Raw. Ugly.

Jenna let out a slow breath, leaning back against the couch beside him. “And now?”

Tyler’s voice was flat. “I still don't know. I just... I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Silence stretched between them again. Long enough for Tyler to feel the edge of it fray.

Then Jenna’s voice, quiet, careful “Ty… is this just about the kiss?”

His jaw locked. Damn her perceptiveness. Of course it wasn’t just about the kiss. But he couldn’t possibly tell her about his late-night one-man show. About all the ways he’d imagined Josh touching him.

“It’s not supposed to mean anything," he said instead.

But she knew him. She knew when he was lying, or at least holding something back. So she hummed, like she didn’t believe him, but wasn’t about to push.

She stood, brushing her hands down the front of her jeans. Paused for a moment before turning to look at him again.

“Whatever’s going on in your head, you better figure it out fast,” she said softly. “You’ve been snapping at everyone all day. Careful you don’t say something you can’t take back.”

Tyler didn’t reply. Didn’t move.

Jenna gave him one last glance, a mix of concern and that calm, older-sister sternness only she could pull off. Then she walked away, leaving Tyler alone in the flickering overhead light, thoughts like static in his skull.

He dropped his head into his hands.

He knew she was right. He was losing his grip.

This wasn’t sustainable. The tension. The heat. The way he flinched every time Josh got within ten feet of him, like his body couldn’t tell the difference between fear and want anymore.

He needed to stop it. End it before it spun even further out of control.

He could talk to Josh. That’s what he needed to do. Just... talk. Make it clear it didn’t mean anything. That he wasn’t in a place for this - whatever this even was.

He could apologize. Or tell Josh to back off. Or lie straight through his teeth if that’s what it took.

But he couldn’t keep doing this.

With that shaky half-plan in mind, Tyler stood, shook out his hands like they might steady him, and stepped out of the counselor lounge into the cool night air.

...

Tyler searched the camp, checking all the usual places Josh might be at this time of night. He slipped into the game room. Nothing. Circled behind the mess hall. Empty. Even wandered toward the counselor cabins to find just Mark there, lounging on their porch.

No Josh.

Just Tyler’s luck.

But he wasn’t about to give up.

He retraced his steps, weaving through the quieter parts of camp, sticking to the edges like a ghost. Past the art shed. Along the trees. The rhythm in his head pulsing like a heartbeat: Be clear. Be firm. Be clear. Be firm.

And then.. on the hundredth loop of that thought, he saw him.

Josh. At the far edge of the path, backlit by a flickering porch light. His tank top was gone. His curls were damp at the ends, sweat-slicked skin glowing in the amber haze. The only thing he was wearing were a pair of worn gym shorts, riding dangerously low on his hips.

Tyler stopped cold. Breath caught. Words forgotten.

Fuck.

Josh didn't notice him. He was heading toward the shower, lazy and unbothered, twirling something in his hand, probably soap or shampoo. His body moved like he had nowhere to be, all confidence and golden skin and...

Tyler’s mouth went dry.

He watched the muscles in Josh’s back flex with every step, the easy sway of his hips as he slipped through the bathroom door and disappeared inside.

And just like that, all those rehearsed lines vanished like smoke. That sharp, practiced mantra - Be clear. Be firm. - was gone. Replaced by the same, consuming pull he’d been fighting all day.

He was supposed to walk away. Supposed to say something. But instead… he stalled. Just stood there in the dark, watching, every thought tangled.

The air clung hot to his skin, his blood boiling louder with every passing second. Ten full minutes ticked by, maybe more, maybe less, he wasn’t counting. Just pacing, dragging a hand through his hair, fisting the edge of his shirt like it might ground him.

But it didn’t.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. About him. About the way Josh would look under that stream of water. Steam curling over his collarbones. Wet skin shining down his chest. Water dripping off his jaw. Off his lips. God.

Tyler cursed his own vivid imagination under his breath. And swore he’d walk away.

He didn’t.

Instead, he walked right up to the bathroom door… and stopped. Just in time to hear the water shut off on the other side.

His pulse jumped, sharp and sudden, like a live wire under his skin.

Don’t do this, a tiny voice warned.

But it was already too late.

The doorknob turned. The door cracked open, steam curling out into the cooler night air, and then-

Josh froze in the doorway.

Towel slung low around his hips. Chest bare, still wet. Skin flushed from the heat. Hair damp, curls clinging to his temples.

“Tyler- ?” he started, voice rough with surprise. But he didn’t get another word out.

Tyler surged forward, pressing a hand to Josh’s chest and backing him into the small, tiled bathroom. The door clicked shut behind them, the air thick with leftover steam and the thrum of something electric. He didn’t stop until Josh’s back hit the damp wall with a muted thud, and then Tyler was on him, flush and breathless.

There was no thought left. Just heat. Just want.

“Tyler, what the-” Josh began again.

“Just…” Tyler’s voice broke. He dropped his forehead to Josh’s, breath unsteady. “Just tell me you want this.”

A pause. One long, charged heartbeat. Enough time for Josh’s expression to flicker from shock, to confusion, to a raw, undeniable want.

And then he caught up to the program. His body went taut, like something clicked into place. His fingers twitched at his sides, then slid up to grip Tyler’s waist.

“Fuck…” he exhaled, voice cracking. “Yeah. Yeah, I want it. I want you. God, I- ”

“Then shut up,” Tyler whispered, breath ghosting hot across Josh’s lips. “Shut up and kiss me.”

And Josh did.

He kissed him like he’d been waiting to for weeks. Like the tension had finally snapped and the only thing left was fire. It was rough, needy, reckless. Tyler shoved him back against the tile, grabbed a fistful of his damp curls and kissed him harder.

Josh moaned into it, hands flying to Tyler’s hips, gripping tight like he was trying to keep them both tethered to the ground.

The kiss turned messier. Hungrier.

Tyler’s free hand roamed over Josh’s chest, tracing the still-damp skin of his pecs, then lower, over the hard, defined abs he’d been dreaming about for days. He grabbed at the flesh like he was afraid it might disappear beneath his fingers.

Josh lifted one hand to the back of Tyler’s neck, dragging him closer, deepening the kiss until they were devouring each other. His other hand slipped beneath Tyler’s hoodie, under his shirt, skimming across the smooth skin of his back.

Then he yanked both layers up and over Tyler’s head in one swift, clumsy pull. The hoodie and shirt landed in a heap on the bathroom floor, forgotten.

Tyler barely had time to breathe before Josh was on him again, lips crashing into his, nipping at the corner of his mouth, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down his jaw, along the edge of his throat.

“God, you’re killing me,” Josh murmured roughly against his pulse.

Tyler’s fingers curled into Josh’s shoulders, nails dragging slightly as Josh pressed a few more kisses to the side of his neck, then bit down, hard, on the tender space between his neck and shoulder.

“Fuck...” Tyler gasped, his voice ragged. “Been thinking about this…”

Josh groaned into his skin, lips moving over the mark he’d just made. “Yeah?” he said, breathless, like he couldn’t believe it but wanted every word.

Then he grabbed Tyler’s ass with both hands, squeezed hard, and hauled him closer until their bodies aligned with searing, perfect pressure... chests bare, hips grinding.

They pressed together, slick with heat and desperation. The knot on Josh’s towel loosened with the friction, slipping off and falling to the floor. He didn’t care. Neither did Tyler. They were too far gone, lost in the heat of the moment.

Tyler’s hips rolled into Josh’s, grinding with a steady rhythm, reveling in the feel of Josh’s hard shaft against his clothed hips. In the way Josh’s breath stuttered with every thrust.

Josh’s voice broke against his mouth. “Fuck... Tyler- ”

Tyler didn’t answer. Just let his hand slide down across Josh’s abdomen, slow and deliberate, until he reached between them, wrapped his fingers around him, and felt Josh stagger.

Josh’s head dropped to Tyler’s shoulder, a shuddering breath escaping him. “Oh.. God."

Tyler squeezed a little tighter, gaze flicking down to watch his own hand stroke along Josh’s cock. He dragged his thumb over the slick bead of pre-cum gathering at the tip, earning a breathless, broken whimper from Josh.

Josh was already unraveling from just that.

With a low growl, he pushed forward, crashing their bodies together. His hands gripped Tyler’s hips as he spun them, pressing Tyler’s back into the edge of the sink counter. The wood bit into the small of his back, but he barely registered it. Josh was on him again, mouth back at his throat, breath hot, tongue dragging over the skin just below his jaw.

Tyler’s hand on Josh’s cock faltered, and Josh seized the moment to bend slightly, gripping Tyler’s thighs, and lifting him onto the counter like he weighed nothing.

Tyler gasped, hands flying to Josh’s shoulders, but Josh didn’t let up. His mouth was back on Tyler’s, messy and hungry and so fucking needy, biting at his bottom lip before sucking it between his teeth.

Tyler moaned into the kiss, threading his fingers through Josh's damp curls and pulling, just to hear that sound again... that low, desperate noise Josh made when he couldn’t hold back.

Josh leaned back just an inch, lips parting from Tyler’s for the first time since the moment he’d been ambushed, just long enough to look. To take in the sight in front of him.

Tyler, perched on the edge of the sink counter, breathing hard. Pupils blown. Lips swollen and glistening. He looked absolutely wrecked.

Josh’s gaze dipped lower. Down to the unmistakable bulge in Tyler’s summer shorts. The outline of his cock pressed tight against the thin fabric, straining for release, only the waistband holding it in.

It twitched beneath Josh’s stare.

Tyler gripped the edge of the counter like he needed something to anchor him, his voice cracking on a whisper. “Please…”

Josh didn’t hesitate. Both hands landed on Tyler’s thighs, fingers dragging upward, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. When he reached the top, one hand slid higher, right where Tyler wanted it most.

“Fuck,” Tyler gasped, voice wrecked as Josh palmed him through the fabric, pressing firm and slow over the shape of him. His head tipped back, hitting the mirror with a soft thunk, mouth slack, eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh my god-” he breathed, hips jerking up into Josh’s hand without meaning to. The pressure. The heat. It was all too much.

Josh leaned in again, kissing against Tyler’s throat as his hand kept moving steadily over his erection. Then he wasted no more time. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Tyler’s shorts and tugged them down, just enough to free his cock.

And then his hand was back - sliding over the head, gathering the pre-cum already beading there, and smearing it down the shaft in a slick, deliberate motion before wrapping a tight fist around it.

“So fucking pretty for me,” Josh murmured against Tyler’s skin.

Tyler let out a whiny whimper in response, his hands scrambling to pull Josh closer, greedy for contact, desperate for more. He gripped at Josh’s shoulders, dragged his nails over his back, searching for any piece of skin he could claim.

Tyler wanted more. He wanted to see him, to feel him too. His fingers moved lower, blindly reaching, but he couldn’t get there. The angle was all wrong.

Josh must’ve sensed it, must've felt the tension in Tyler’s grip, the frustration in the way his hips jerked. He leaned back just a fraction, breath heavy.

“Spit,” he ordered, voice rough.

Tyler looked up, pupils blown wide, lips parted, and did exactly what he was told.

Josh caught it in his palm, and without breaking eye contact, he shifted his hips, pressed himself closer and reached down again. Only this time Josh wrapped his hand around both of them - hot, hard, pressed together - and started stroking.

Tyler’s hips stuttered. “Fuck...Josh- ”

“Yeah,” Josh panted. “Like this, baby. Let me see you.”

His hand moved in slow, filthy rhythm, stroking them both together, slick and hot and so much. The friction. The weight. The way their skin dragged against each other, hard and flushed, slick with sweat.

Tyler was coming undone. His thighs trembled. Breath sharp, broken. He locked his legs tighter around Josh’s hips, helpless against the grind, chasing it like it was all he had left. One hand clutched Josh’s bicep, nails digging in, the other braced behind him, barely keeping him upright.

His mouth was open, panting. Forehead pressed to Josh’s.

And Josh just watched him, devoured him, with dark, hungry eyes, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Like he didn’t want to miss a single second of Tyler falling apart in his hands.

"Mmm, oh fuck... yeah..," Tyler whimpered, no longer able to hold himself back.

They were too lost in each other to worry about anyone hearing them from the other side of the door. Too far gone to think about anything else but the heat building inside their stomach, the inevitable climax approaching.

"Yeah, come on,” Josh whispered, voice ragged. “Come on, Ty. Let go.”

And Tyler did.

With a choked moan and a final thrust of his hips, he shattered, coming hard between them, onto Josh’s hand, into the tight space between their stomachs. His whole body shook with it, messy, overwhelming, so good it hurt.

Josh followed a second later, swearing into Tyler’s neck, hand still moving as he spilled between them, forehead pressed hard to Tyler’s shoulder.

For a second, they just stayed there... sweaty, panting, tangled in heat and each other. Josh's hand was still tangled in Tyler’s hip, grip loose now, more anchor than need. He leaned his forehead against Tyler’s again, dizzy with the rush,with everything they’d just done.

But it didn't take Tyler long to start slipping.

Josh felt it first in the way his body stiffened, just barely, a small shift.. but enough.

Then came the soft push against his chest.

Josh blinked, still dazed, and pulled back a few inches, confused. But Tyler didn’t even look at him.

He just slid off the counter, stumbling slightly as his knees remembered how to work. His fingers went for his shorts, yanking them up with shaky motions, not bothering to clean the mess between them.

Then he bent down to pick up the tangle of his hoodie and shirt, clutching it in his hands like armor.

Josh stayed still. Watched it happen in silence.

He knew this. Had felt it before. The way Tyler’s energy changed. The way guilt crawled up the back of his neck like a shadow. The way he wouldn’t meet Josh’s eyes anymore, too busy zipping and wrapping and running.

Josh’s throat worked. “Tyler,” he said quietly. A little helpless.

But Tyler just paused for a second. Just one. His gaze lifted. Met Josh’s across the soft steam-filled light.

And in that look... God, that look... there was everything and nothing. Something unreadable. Wounded. Torn. His mouth parted like he might say something. An apology. An excuse. A goodbye. But nothing came out.

Only silence.

And then he turned and walked out the door.

Josh stood there,still naked and breathless, skin still tingling from touch, chest aching with something too big to name. He didn’t know if Tyler regretted it or was just scared. But God, he hoped it wasn’t the first.

Still, he didn’t call after him. Didn’t chase.

He just sat on the edge of the counter, ran a hand through his hair, and whispered the only thing he could.

“…Well.. fuck.”

Chapter Text

The breakfast the next day tasted different. The air felt different. Tyler felt different.

To his surprise, he didn’t spend much time panicking or pulling his hair out. He didn’t even fall into one of his usual spirals, overanalyzing every second, every word, every touch.

Maybe it was the fact that he crashed within minutes of flopping into bed and pulling the covers over his head. He finally slept through the whole night. His body - exhausted, spent, and sated in a way it hadn’t been in a long time - finally let him sleep peacefully. No tossing. No turning. No nightmares or what-ifs. Just deep, dreamless quiet.

He slept so well, in fact, that he missed his first alarm. Maybe even the second. By the time he finally stumbled into the mess hall for breakfast, the place was already packed. Kids were chattering nonstop, tearing through bowls of cereal, sprinting from table to table in search of juice refills and extra cocoa.

Even the counselors' table was full. And when Tyler wandered over, clutching his plate, the only open seat left was, of course, right next to Josh.

His foggy brain caught up just in time for his pulse to spike. He hesitated.

But then Jenna looked up and spotted him, smiling like she hadn’t read the panic on his face. She gestured to the empty seat in front of her, the one next to Josh, like she was doing him a favor.

God. Somebody save him.

He swallowed hard and crossed the remaining distance, mumbling hellos, trying to keep his expression neutral.

Josh looked up from his plate - just a quick glance, nothing lingering - before going right back to his food. No smirk. No comment. No flare of drama. Just… calm. Tyler took it as a good sign and slid into the seat beside him, heart still hammering like it hadn’t gotten the memo.

Jenna, ever sharp, flicked her gaze between them. She seemed to weigh something silently, but then her expression softened, and she turned toward Tyler with a smile.

“I see you slept in," she said lightly. "Feeling better today, Ty?”

Tyler didn’t react right away. He was staring down at his eggs, realizing the yolk had accidentally formed a face on his plate. A face that looked mildly disappointed. God, even his breakfast was judging him.

“Ty?” Jenna said, a little louder.

He jerked upright, cheeks flushing, only to find half the table watching him. Jenna gave him a raised eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Huh?” he mumbled around a mouthful of eggs.

“I asked if you were feeling better today,” she said slowly, teasing now. “You know... less snappy, more happy?”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Totally,” Tyler said, forcing a quick nod. He glanced around the table, trying to look apologetic, his mouth flattening into a thin, awkward line. “Sorry about that, by the way."

Truth was, Tyler wasn’t sure how he felt. He hadn't had the time to process any of it. One second he was stumbling out of that bathroom, and the next he was waking up, somehow still breathing, and then sitting beside Josh like none of it had ever happened.

And now, he didn’t have room to think. Not unless he wanted to unravel right here in front of everyone.

In a weird way, he was grateful Josh wasn’t doing or saying anything either. No pointed glances, no inside jokes, no smug smirk. Just… acting like it was any other morning. It made it easier for Tyler to breathe.

“So you slept better?” Jenna asked again, softer.

Tyler blinked back to her, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in something almost like a smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Really well, actually.” And that part, at least, was true. He even frowned a little at the thought.

Maybe giving in to it - into his desire, into Josh - helped. Maybe giving his body what it had been silently begging for made sleep possible again. He barely remembered crashing into bed. Barely remembered the taste of Josh still lingering on his lips.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Whatever you’re doing... keep doing it.” Jenna smiled brightly, oblivious to the emotional minefield she was walking through.

Tyler choked slightly on his toast, coughing into his fist.

Next to him, Josh went still. Just a flicker of tension, a tiny shift in his posture, but Tyler felt it like a jolt. Josh shot him a quick, sharp side glance under his lashes, like he was waiting to see what Tyler would do. Waiting to see if he’d crack.

Tyler didn’t.

He stabbed a piece of sausage instead. Kept his head down. Kept breathing.

Josh himself hadn’t slept very well.

Because... how could he? When the memory of Tyler’s mouth seared into his skin. When he could still taste him - sweet and desperate and so real it almost hurt.
Not when he kept replaying that final second, the sharp, empty space where Tyler turned and left without a word. It looped in his head all night.

He kept glancing sideways, pretending he wasn’t hoping for something, anything, from the man now sitting inches away. A look. A word. A sign that last night hadn’t been a mistake.

But Tyler was quiet. Careful. Untouchable, again.

So Josh just... swallowed it. Like he always did.

“Anyway…” Jenna broke the silence, her voice light, cheerful, clearly trying to steer the mood somewhere less murky. “Big day today. Maybe your last shot to keep the trophy in your hands, actually," she looked pointedly at Tyler.

Tyler, grateful for the change in topic, let the corner of his mouth curl into a smirk.

“Oh, I’m planning to use that shot,” he said, finally meeting Jenna’s eyes with a flicker of his usual confidence. “Might as well go out swinging.”

Jenna raised a brow, clearly amused. “Confident today, are we?”

Tyler just shrugged, focusing on his plate. “Just trying to stay focused.”

...

And he did.

Once the day got going, he threw himself into it. Kept busy. Kept moving. And by the time the final challenge rolled around, his team was locked in. They worked together like a well-oiled machine, every strategy landing, every point earned clean.

His team won the challenge - by miles.

Josh watched the celebration from a few feet away, one hand braced on his hip, the other draped over the back of a bench. His own team was still scattered across the field, a little bummed but not devastated. They were good kids. Resilient. But Josh wasn’t really focused on them.

He was watching Tyler.

Tyler was surrounded, grinning wide as his team jumped and hollered around him, high-fiving like they’d just won the Olympics. He looked... God. He looked happy. Light.

Like none of it was weighing on him. Like last night hadn’t happened at all.

Josh's stomach twisted. A cold, hollow kind of ache.

Maybe it really hadn’t meant anything. Maybe it had just been... a moment. A quick hookup. A mistake to be forgotten by morning.

He didn’t realize he was staring until someone spoke beside him.

"Sorry you didn’t win."

Josh blinked, pulled abruptly from his thoughts. Debby had appeared at his side, tugging her hair into a loose ponytail as she watched the celebrating campers with a small, knowing smile.

He shook his head once, trying to play it cool. "Eh. Doesn't really mean that much to me," he said, shrugging like he meant it. It was honest. At least, now it was. Winning had nothing on the hollow pit sitting in his chest.

Debby’s gaze flicked over to him, then back to Tyler. Her brows furrowed briefly, confusion flickering across her face. But then something shifted, her mouth curling into a slow, teasing grin.

She'd been suspecting for a while. She’d seen the tension. Felt it even.

It hadn't always been obvious... not at first. Or maybe she hadn’t noticed because she’d been busy having a crush on Josh herself. It was easy, with how friendly he was, all sunshine and casual charm. For a while, she thought maybe he liked her too. She thought maybe she just had to wait.

But then that night by the bonfire happened.

She saw it - the way Josh looked at Tyler, the way Tyler looked back, like there was a whole conversation happening without a single word. Something electric and private, threaded tight between them.

After that, she couldn’t unsee it. The way Josh's energy shifted around him, sharper and softer all at once. Their lingering looks, the small charged moments crackling in the spaces between them.

And now she had her confirmation.

It had never been about her. And honestly... she wasn’t even mad. Maybe just a little wistful. But mostly, she was just curious and she definitely planned on finding out more.

"Ohhh," she said, drawing out the word. "I thought you were after the trophy. But really, you just like riling him up, don’t you?"

Josh huffed a laugh, looking away like maybe he could dodge the blow if he didn’t meet her eyes. But she’d already seen it, the way his shoulders stiffened, the way his mouth tightened before he masked it with a grin.

“How long have you been doing that?” she asked, voice playful but edged with real curiosity.

Josh shrugged, a little too sharp. "I don’t know what you mean."

"Mhm." Debby leaned her elbow on the back of the bench, eyes twinkling. "You get this look when he’s around. It's like... full golden retriever with a crush. Very cute."

Josh groaned softly, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re making things up.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, and he hated himself for it.

Debby smiled sweetly, sensing the weakness, and pounced. "Am I, though?" she said, syrupy sweet.

When he didn’t answer - didn’t even try - she grinned wider. "You know, you two should just kiss or something. It’d make things a lot easier."

Josh huffed a breath... A sound that was almost a laugh but not quite. His mouth twisted like he meant to smirk, but it collapsed halfway there, too bitter to pull off.

For a second, something unguarded flashed across his face - not embarrassment, but something closer to ache. A sadness so quick and sharp that it made Debby blink.

He dropped his gaze, jaw clenching, like he could shove it all down if he just didn’t look at her.

But it was too late. She’d already seen it.

"Oh my God." She straightened up, jaw dropping a little in shock. "You already did, didn’t you?"

Josh gave her a look, part warning, part plea, but there was too much panic bleeding through for it to be convincing. "Debby..." he muttered under his breath.

She clapped her hands over her mouth, as if she was physically trying to hold in a squeal. "No way."

Josh didn’t confirm. Didn’t deny it either. There was no point. It was written all over his face, his posture, or the way he couldn’t quite keep his hands still.

Debby squinted at him, tilting her head, studying him like a puzzle she was desperate to solve. "So why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?"

Josh let out a breath, crooked and shaky, and offered a thin, bitter smile. "Just tired, I guess."

It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the full truth either.

For a second, Debby said nothing. Just watched him. And when she spoke again, her voice had softened, the teasing drained out, replaced by something warmer. Gentler.

"Well, for what it’s worth..." she said, nudging his arm lightly, "I think he likes you. He’s just, you know... a bit of a mess."

Josh didn’t answer.

He just looked back at the field, his eyes finding Tyler easily... like they always did. Tyler was laughing, bright and weightless, like he didn’t even know he’d carved Josh wide open.

Yeah.

Tell him something he didn’t know.

...

The afternoon program ended with the usual mess of sweat, sunscreen, and half-finished crafts, and by the time Tyler finished helping the last of his kids clean up, the sun was already sinking low in the sky. The air buzzed with that end-of-day energy - tired feet, loud laughter, kids skipping toward the showers, ready for dinner.

For the first time that day no one needed him. No workshops. No planning. No emergencies.

Just a rare, suspended moment of stillness. And way too much space to think.

He sat on the back steps of the music cabin, elbows on his knees, head tilted back against the wall. The sun was dipping low behind the trees, and somewhere down by the lake, kids were laughing - loud and carefree in a way that made his chest ache.

Because he wasn’t laughing. He was overthinking again. And he was so fucking tired of it.

It crept slowly, sticky. Started at the edges of his thoughts and then flooded in all at once, heavy and mean.

What the fuck are you doing?

He was supposed to be the one in control. The one who knew better. The one who could keep a boundary and stick to it.

He’d promised himself it would stop. Swore that he'd walk up to Josh and end it. But all it had taken was one look at Josh in the low night-light and his knees had buckled. And instead of putting a stop to whatever the hell was building between them, he’d ended up devouring him. Again.

He’d wanted it. Craved it. Still craved it.

His chest ached with the weight of that want. That helpless, pathetic need. He was ashamed of himself. For giving in. For losing control. But then his thoughts shifted. Just for a second.

He stopped thinking about what it meant for him.

And started wondering what it might’ve meant for Josh.

Josh had seemed so calm this morning. Like none of it had shaken him. Like it had just been another good time, another hookup, nothing deeper than a sweaty night and a hot mouth.

Maybe that’s all it was.

Maybe Tyler had been fighting a war in his own head while Josh was just… fine. Unbothered.

It made sense. Josh was confident, smooth, good with people. He probably had a long list of flings - charming smiles traded for kisses, hands touching skin like it didn’t mean anything.

Maybe Tyler was just one more body in a string of forgettable hookups.

Something about that thought... settled. Sharp-edged. Bitter. But familiar.

And for a moment, Tyler thought that if that’s what this was - just a fling - that maybe he could survive it.

There was nothing wrong with needing release. With wanting someone warm, someone who looked at him like he was worth burning for. Josh wanted him. That much was clear.

And if Tyler couldn’t stop spiraling... maybe he could at least give his body what it needed.

He let out a slow breath and dropped his head back against the cabin wall.

Images came uninvited. Josh’s mouth, hot and sure. His hands gripping Tyler’s thighs like he meant it. Josh, panting his name into the curve of his throat like it was something precious.

Tyler shivered.

The memory was too sharp. Too vivid.

And he didn’t stop it.

Didn’t stop the way his stomach flipped. Didn’t stop the slow, rising ache low in his gut. Didn’t stop the way his mind wandered back to the sound Josh made when they came together, shaky and broken, like he’d lost himself in it too.

God.

He could feel it again. The want. Coiled and humming just under his skin. So loud he couldn’t ignore it.

But maybe he didn’t have to.

Maybe this was something he could take without giving anything back. A way to lose himself without risking whatever was left of the soft, breakable parts inside him.

...

The evening counselor meeting was dragging.

Not in a boring way - there were the usual updates, reminders about safety settings for the next day, some minor scheduling drama between Morgan and Mark about supply orders, but Josh wasn’t hearing any of it. Not really.

Because at some point during the meeting, he started noticing... something.

Not a sound, not a shift in the room... just a feeling. Like static. Like a current brushing under his skin.

Like someone was watching him.

It started small. Quick glances, barely-there flickers of attention across the circle of chairs. Josh might’ve missed it if he hadn’t been half-waiting for it, half-hoping. At first, Tyler seemed to catch himself - dropping his gaze, shifting in his seat, pretending to be absorbed in whatever Jenna was saying.

But as the meeting dragged on, something changed.

The glances grew less cautious, more bold. They lingered a little longer. There was intent behind them now, not just accident, not just nerves.

Josh had caught every single one. And each time, he’d tried to act normal. Tried to play it cool. Like he wasn’t rattled. Like his heart didn’t spike the second their eyes met.

But he was rattled. He was spiking.

Because he wasn’t even sure what the hell any of this meant.

Last night, Tyler had vanished out of that bathroom like a ghost, like he's never even been there, like it had all been a mistake. Not another look. Not another word. He just left.

Then this morning at breakfast, he'd sat beside him like nothing had happened. Said nothing. Barely looked at him. And Josh had clung to every scrap of proximity like it was hope.

He couldn’t tell if he was being hopeful… or just pathetic.

He kept replaying what Debby said earlier, during the team games. The way she’d nudged his ribs and smirked, “ "You know… I think he likes you.”

It was stupid. Just teasing. But somehow, it had lodged itself deep in Josh’s chest and stayed there.

Because what if… what if she was right? What if this wasn't just a hookup? What if Tyler just didn’t know how to say it?

Josh hadn’t let himself believe that. Not really.

But now, across the circle of counselors sipping coffee and tossing around flashlight schedules, Tyler was still watching him. They were in the middle of discussing plans for tomorrow evening, the final night for this season’s campers, but Josh’s focus was elsewhere. Entirely.

Tyler's eyes dropped to Josh’s lips once. Stayed there. Then climbed back up like it hadn’t happened.

Josh swallowed hard. He tried not to squirm. Tried not to let his thigh bounce. But his whole body was coiled, heat buzzing under his skin, breath tight in his chest, lit up from the inside with something sharp and restless and aching.

Across the room, half-lit by the dim glow of the firepit lanterns, Tyler sat with his arms crossed, legs stretched out, posture all casual. But his eyes? His eyes were doing something else entirely.

They were sharp. Direct. Glinting with something that made the back of Josh’s neck prickle.

Hunger.

Or at least… something that looked a hell of a lot like it.

A few minutes later, the meeting finally broke.

People started standing. Stretching. Talking about campfire stories and bedtime patrol. Josh blinked, dazed, trying to piece together whatever Mark had just said about headlamp batteries - but then he felt it again.
The weight of Tyler’s gaze.

And sure enough, when he looked over, Tyler was already watching him.

Everyone else was filtering out, voices rising, bodies in motion, but Tyler remained seated on the couch, still and waiting. His posture had shifted just slightly, straightening as if in anticipation. Or expectation. Or maybe just to make sure Josh noticed.

How could he not, when Tyler kept looking at him like that?

Tyler stood slowly, adjusting his pants where they’d scrunched up from sitting. Then he turned and headed toward the exit. His steps were unhurried. Deliberate. Like he wasn’t in a rush, but he knew someone was watching.

And then, like it was nothing at all, he glanced back over his shoulder. Right at Josh.

And that look...

It knocked the breath from his lungs.

No smile. No words. Just eyes - low-lidded and dark.

Tyler let his gaze drag slowly over Josh’s body, biting the inside of his cheek as he did. There was something dangerously sensual in the way he took him in, measured, intentional, and it made Josh’s breath catch. When Tyler’s eyes climbed back up, they locked on his.

And in that look, there was something else. A nudge. A silent question... Or maybe a command.

Josh’s heart stuttered.

Tyler moved a few more steps, kept looking at Josh like he expected him to follow.

And Josh's legs kind of moved on their own.

Chapter Text

The counselor meeting had just ended. Staff filtered out across the camp, heading in different directions, leaving the common room with tomorrow’s schedule detailed instructions fresh in their minds.

Josh left with none of it. He’d been too distracted, too focused on something else entirely. He couldn’t remember a single thing from the meeting, except for the way Tyler had been looking at him.

He lingered for a moment, dazed, before his legs started moving on their own. He trailed after Tyler, who was already several steps ahead, walking calmly down the path.

Josh followed him across the camp, heart hammering, palms already slick with sweat.

The anticipation was killing him. If Tyler’s looks meant what Josh thought they meant... he was fucked. Figuratively. Maybe even literally. God.

They walked in silence through the dark, only the dim path lights showing them the ground beneath their feet. The kids were probably all asleep by now, and this part of camp - the counselor cabins near the forest - was always calm once night settled in.

But tonight, the calm felt deafening.

Tyler hadn’t looked back once since they left the common room. But he knew Josh was following, he could probably hear his footsteps, maybe even his ragged breath.

He only shot him a quick glance before disappearing into his little cabin, the last one in the row.

Josh climbed the two shallow steps to the porch and hesitated in front of the door.

What was this? Did Tyler really want him to follow inside? What were they even doing? What if Josh had gotten it wrong?

He tried to shove the confusion aside, replaying the look Tyler had given him just minutes ago, hungry, focused, magnetic. Like it was pulling Josh in by the chest, like he was hypnotized.

That look hadn’t been subtle.

It had matched the ache in Josh’s chest, the want, the heat, the unspoken need. He wanted Tyler again. He wanted to be close - in whatever way Tyler would let him.

He stood there for a fractured second, heart pounding against his ribs, every part of him screaming for answers, for something real. But before he could overthink it, his hand was already on the doorknob.

The second he pushed the door open and stepped inside, all thoughts shattered. Tyler was on him in an instant.

No words. No time to breathe. Just rough, hungry and claiming hands, dragging him deeper into the cabin before slamming the door shut with a blind sweep of his arm.

Josh opened his mouth, maybe to say something, he wasn’t even sure what, but he never got the chance. Tyler caught his face between both hands and kissed him hard enough to knock every thought out of his head.

Josh staggered back a step, his spine hitting the door with a soft thud, and Tyler just followed, crowding into his space, pressing them together until there was no air left between them. He kissed him again, harder this time, more desperate, the wall behind them bracing them both.

Tyler didn’t move like someone uncertain. He didn’t move like someone calculating. He moved like a man starved.

His hands slid down from Josh's face - one settling at the back of his head, threading through his hair, tugging just slightly. Mostly, it was just to pull him closer. The other traced down the side of Josh’s neck, a firm line over his chest, then lower. Tyler’s palm curled around his waist, squeezing, pressing in tighter as he deepened the kiss.

Josh gasped into it, hands scrambling at Tyler’s shoulders, trying to hold on, to keep up. Tyler kissed him like he could crawl inside him if he just pressed hard enough.

Josh tilted his head, gave Tyler more, chasing the burn of it, the wild, frantic need slamming through his chest. Tyler groaned low in his throat and caught Josh’s bottom lip between his teeth, tugging, making Josh jolt and whimper into his mouth.

He couldn’t breathe. Didn’t want to.

All he could feel was Tyler - his hands everywhere, his mouth dragging desperate, open-mouthed kisses across Josh’s lips. His touch was rough and greedy, roaming down Josh’s sides, gripping his hips hard enough to make him gasp.

By the time Tyler tore his mouth away, both of them were gasping for air.

Josh barely managed to blink before Tyler dove for his neck. His lips dragged down Josh’s jaw, hot and desperate, finding the soft skin at his throat and sinking into it, biting just hard enough to make Josh whimper.

He kept going, tracing a path down his neck. When he ran into the hemline of Josh’s tank top, he let out a frustrated groan. One hand slid from Josh’s hip to his waist, gripping tighter, and before Josh knew what was happening, his shirt was yanked up and over his head, then tossed somewhere into the dark.

It didn't even hit the floor before Tyler was all over him again, mouth hot and open, kissing down his chest like he couldn’t get enough.

When Tyler’s lips closed around one of his nipples, Josh let out a broken, helpless noise, high and raw, and Tyler growled low in his throat, like the sound drove him wild.

"Fuck," Josh gasped, his hips jerking involuntarily.

Tyler smiled against his skin, not mocking, just pleased, and kept teasing with his tongue, circling slow and deliberate. His other hand came up to the neglected nipple, flicking it gently with his thumb, adding just the right pressure, just the right rhythm.

Josh’s head hit the door with a soft thud. His eyes fluttered shut. And his hands, tangled in Tyler’s shoulders, stilled completely as the sensation took over and wrecked him..

He looked down just in time to see Tyler give one more tentative lick, before his eyes shifted up, meeting his, and then he slowly - agonizingly slowly - sank down to his knees in one devastating motion.

Josh’s whole body locked up.

Just the sight of him down there, hands running down his torso, over his hips, then smoothing up the backs of his thighs, made something deep inside him fracture.

"Tyler..." he gasped again, voice cracking around the name, but it died on his tongue.

Because Tyler was looking up at him, eyes dark and intent, as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Josh’s stomach.

Slow. Deliberate.

Josh whimpered - he couldn’t help it - his hands flying to Tyler’s hair, gripping helplessly.

Tyler didn’t tease. Didn’t draw it out cruelly. He pressed his palm flat against Josh’s cock, still trapped behind denim, rubbing slow, steady circles that made Josh’s knees buckle.

A shaky, desperate sound escaped Josh’s throat. He was already coming undone.

“Please,” he breathed. A whisper, a prayer...

But Tyler was already moving. Already unfastening his jeans, slow and sure, like he was unwrapping a present he couldn't wait to tear into.

Josh squeezed his eyes shut when Tyler freed him, already trembling, the cool air a sharp contrast to his overheated skin.

Tyler didn’t waste a second.

Once he’d pushed Josh’s pants down to his knees, he leaned in, licking a long, deliberate stripe from the base of Josh’s shaft to the sensitive tip. Then he closed his mouth around the head, enveloping it in wet heat, his tongue sliding teasingly through the slit.

Josh’s head slammed back against the door.

"God," he gasped, hips stuttering forward, his hands tightening in Tyler’s hair like he might fall apart right there.

"Fuck, Tyler - oh, fuck-"

Tyler took him deeper, lips dragging down as his tongue traced the underside of Josh’s cock. Each time he sank down, he pushed further, taking more. He moaned when the head of Josh's cock brushed the back of his throat. Moaned like he was the one being touched... like it wrecked him too.

Josh clutched at Tyler’s hair, carding his fingers through it - desperate for something to hold onto as Tyler took him deeper, sucked harder, pulled sounds from him he didn’t even know he could make.

"Oh.. fuck. So good, you’re so good," Josh mumbled, breathless and wrecked.

Tyler groaned around him, deep and filthy, the sound vibrating against Josh’s skin in a way that made his whole body tremble.

That reaction hit him like a spark to dry kindling.

Josh could feel Tyler’s need, his eagerness... and it made something inside him break open. So he gave him more.

The words started spilling out, helpless and filthy and honest, tumbling from his mouth like he couldn’t stop if he tried.

"Fuck... Tyler. God, your mouth... so fucking good.. So perfect... please-"

His voice broke into a high, choked whimper, his fingers yanking at Tyler’s hair without thinking.

Tyler growled low in his throat, the vibration sparking lightning under Josh’s skin. His hands slid harder up Josh’s thighs, forcing them wider, grounding him, guiding his hips to rock into his mouth.

Josh was gone. Utterly lost.

"Shit, you’re gonna ruin me," Josh choked, rocking his hips forward instinctively, desperate for more. "Gonna make me come just from your mouth, fuck-"

That earned him an obscene, wrecked moan from Tyler, and then suddenly, Tyler pulled off, just enough to speak. His mouth was red and slick, his breath ragged, eyes dark and glassy as he looked up at Josh.

“Josh,” he rasped, voice breaking on it. “Fuck my mouth. Please… I want you to.”."

The words hit Josh like a gut punch.

"Jesus..." he whispered, his hands tightening in Tyler’s hair. The sight of him like this - kneeling, begging for it - it ripped through the last of Josh’s self-control.

He braced a shaky hand against the door, the other buried tight in Tyler’s hair, and thrust shallowly, slowly at first, like he needed to savor it. Like he needed to feel every second of Tyler’s willing surrender.

Tyler opened up for him.

Mouth hot and slick and perfect, moaning low every time Josh pushed deeper,encouraging it, wanting more, like he didn’t want Josh to hold back.

Josh couldn’t even breathe anymore.

“Oh my god…” he moaned, looking down at him, watching Tyler take it. “You were fucking made for this… Jesus. So fucking hot, Ty-”

Tyler whimpered around him - actually fucking whimpered - and Josh almost lost it right then and there.

He had to slow down, had to grip Tyler’s hair tighter to keep himself from falling apart too fast.

"Shit, you're gonna make me... fuck, you're gonna make me come," Josh groaned, hips shaking, voice breaking apart. "You want that, huh? You want me to lose it in your mouth-?"

Another desperate hum from Tyler, eager, hungry... and Josh was gone.

His head slammed back against the door as he gasped out Tyler’s name like a broken prayer, his whole body shaking with powerful spasms as he spilled down Tyler’s throat - shuddering, locked up, completely undone.

Tyler took it all, swallowed around him, cleaned him up with a few more slow bobs of his head, hands clutching Josh’s hips like a lifeline, steadying himself.

When Josh finally sagged back against the door, boneless and trembling, Tyler pulled off with a slow, shuddering breath. His forehead came to rest lightly against Josh’s thigh.

For a second, they just breathed, hard and unsteady, the air between them thick and heavy.

And then Josh felt it.

Felt the way Tyler’s body still shook, the way he shifted restlessly against his leg, like he couldn't help it.

Josh felt the small, broken noise Tyler tried and failed to swallow down. He saw the way Tyler’s hand drifted to the front of his own jeans, palming himself clumsily, desperate and whiny under his breath.

Josh blinked, the haze clearing just enough to take it all in:

Tyler, still kneeling at his feet, so hard it looked painful, scrabbling one-handed with the button of his jeans, gasping quietly against Josh’s thigh like he was about to fall apart.

"Fuck," Josh whispered, voice thick and low, heat flaring back to life.

Something primal snapped inside him. Not just lust, not just need, but want... want to touch, to take, to give back everything Tyler had just pulled out of him.

Roughly, he grabbed Tyler’s arms and tugged him up. Tyler came willingly, pliant and reckless, stumbling into Josh like he didn’t care where they landed. It wasn't very smooth. Somehow they twisted in the space, and Tyler ended up with his back pressed against Josh’s chest, both of them still half-dressed, still gasping.

Josh didn't even think.

He put both his arms around him, one steadying Tyler at his waits, the other reaching down. He found the mess of Tyler’s half-undone jeans and shoved them down the rest of the way, his fingers greedy, clumsy.

Then he wrapped his hand around Tyler’s cock - hot, heavy and throbbing.

Tyler let out a wrecked, needy sound, his head dropping back against Josh’s shoulder, the whole line of his body shuddering violently.

“Fuck, you’re so hard,” Josh breathed against his ear, voice low and ruined.

"So fucking desperate for it, huh?" He pressed closer, his hand stroking slow, firm, as Tyler’s mouth dropped open in a silent O.

“Loved taking me down your throat so much it got you all worked up.”

Tyler whimpered pathetically, one hand flying up to clutch at Josh’s hair, the other scrabbling uselessly at his side for something to hold onto. He grabbed onto the small cabinet by the door, knuckles instantly turning white with the grip.

Josh worked him fast, rough, his thumb smearing precome over the head, wrist twisting just the way he liked it himself. It had Tyler moaning, loud and desperate, hips jerking into Josh’s hand like he couldn’t stop, like his body was acting on its own.

“Yeah… come on,” Josh whispered, filthy and soft, his mouth brushing Tyler’s ear. “Let go for me. Wanna feel you come apart.”

Tyler’s hips stuttered, every muscle in his body going taut, straining toward it.

Josh kissed the side of his neck, open-mouthed and messy, biting down hard enough to leave a mark, and Tyler broke apart in his arms with a low, choked moan, coming hot and wet into Josh’s fist.

His body jerked once, twice, before he sagged completely, slumping back against Josh like his strings had been cut. Josh held him through it, his arms tight around his middle, forehead pressed into Tyler’s shoulder, both of them breathing hard, wrecked, shaking.

For a few seconds, they just stayed there. Warm, tangled, satiated.

Josh closed his eyes, his chest aching with something he didn't dare name.

But then...
Just like that...

Tyler blinked.

His pulse was still hammering. His skin slick with sweat. Josh’s arms around him, breath still hot against his neck. But something inside him... shifted.

The heat was gone. Not from his body, he was still flushed, still wrecked... but from the moment.

And suddenly, the silence was too loud.

Tyler stepped forward, gently slipping out of Josh’s arms. Not rough. Not apologetic. Just... done.

Josh let go immediately. No resistance. No questions.

Tyler crossed the room and reached for the edge of the dresser, grabbing the first cloth he could find - maybe a towel, maybe an old T-shirt, who cared - and wiped himself off in silence. His movements were mechanical. Efficient.

He could still feel Josh all over him. The ghost of his mouth. The grip of his hands. The way he’d whispered praise like it meant something.

He dressed quickly, without a word. Ran a hand through his hair, still avoiding eye contact. He didn’t even glance Josh’s way when he spoke.

“You should probably head out,” he said, voice hoarse but flat. “Before anyone sees you.”

It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t warm either. It was just... practical.

Josh blinked. He was still catching his breath, flushed and dazed from everything they’d just done. But at those words, something inside him went still.

He swallowed, the ache settling in fast, low in his gut. He moved slowly, reaching for his shirt, his hands shaking just a little, and nodded like it was fine.

Like that didn’t hurt.

Like he hadn’t just touched Tyler in the most intimate way he’d ever touched another person and then been told, essentially, to leave.

“Yeah. Sure,” he said, voice too casual. Too light. “Wouldn’t wanna get caught breaking curfew.”

Tyler gave a small grunt. Not quite agreement. Not quite anything.

Josh dressed quietly. Didn’t ask anything. Didn’t say the things clawing at the back of his throat.

You asked me to take you. You begged for it. or Did that mean nothing to you?

He didn’t ask, because he knew what silence would follow.

So he pulled his shirt over his head and walked to the door. Hesitated with his hand on the knob. Just long enough to think about turning back. To say something. Anything.

But he didn’t.

“Night,” he said softly.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Outside, the camp was quiet. Cool air wrapped around him, but it didn’t help. He stood there for a long minute, listening to the leaves rustle overhead, trying to breathe through the tightness in his chest.

There was no one to see him. No one was there to see the tightness in his jaw, the flicker of pain behind his eyes. Well, not quite pain but... that quiet, hollow ache of wanting more and knowing he wouldn’t get it.

So he squared his shoulders, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked back to his cabin.

***

The last full day of camp had that particularly loud and bittersweet kind of buzz.

Sunlight stretched long across the field as campers gathered one final time, jittery with too much sugar and not enough sleep. Dave stood at the front like always, clipboard in hand, trying to wrangle their attention with a familiar mix of cheer and command.

“Alright folks, now’s the time to go pack, to get signatures from your friends or your counselors, to enjoy your last hours of camp!” he called, voice raised above the din. “We’ll announce the winner of the trophy at the ceremonial dinner tonight, so bring out your best clothes, kids!”

The crowd erupted into laughter and chatter, immediately breaking apart like someone had cut a rope. It was joyful. Chaotic. A little too loud in places, the way things always got when goodbye hovered on the edges.

Markers were already flying across t-shirts, bunkmates sprinting between cabins to get one last signature, one last message, one last everything. The air buzzed with that aching mix of celebration and countdown.

Josh stood by the railing near the flagpole, a Sharpie in one hand and a crumpled t-shirt in the other, smiling and laughing easily - because his kids were just the right kind of silly. Loud, messy, and all heart. They made it easier to pretend.

He signed shirts. Said the lines. Played the part. But sometimes his laugh came a little late. Sometimes too soft. Sometimes he forgot the punchlines to his own jokes.

“You good, Coach?” one of the boys asked him, nudging his ribs with the kind of casual affection that only showed up on the last day of camp.

Josh blinked at him for a beat too long before forcing another smile. “Yeah, bud. Just tired.”

He was always like this on the last day, wasn’t he? That’s what he told himself. That the ache in his chest was just the usual kind. The goodbye kind. The too-many-hugs, too-much-sun, too-much-feeling kind.

But it wasn’t.

The truth sat heavy behind his ribs. A weight he hadn’t been able to shake since last night. Since he stepped out of the common room and followed Tyler into the dark.

He was shaken from the thought by a dramatic, hiccupping sob across the lawn. A girl flung herself into her friend’s arms like the world was ending. Their whole bunk gathered around them, forming a human pile of limbs and tears and forced laughter.

The last day of camp energy was everywhere. It was messy, but tender at the same time.

Josh felt none of it.

Then he heard a voice behind him.

“You’re quiet today.”

Josh turned his head, blinking into the sunlight. Debby stood beside him with her hands tucked into the front pocket of her hoodie, hair braided back loosely, the corners of her eyes crinkled with something between amusement and concern.

“I’m always quiet on the last day,” he said, trying to play it off. “It’s tradition.”

Debby hummed, clearly not buying it. She stepped up beside him, leaning her hip against the railing, watching the kids run wild in the grass like she was giving him time.

Then she said, gently, “You look like you’re somewhere else.”

Josh stared down at the Sharpie in his hand, twisting it between his fingers. “I kind of am.”

There was a pause. Then Debby tilted her head slightly. “Is it about Tyler?”

Josh froze, just for a second. That was all she needed.

She didn’t press. Didn’t gloat. She just offered a small smile, soft and knowing. “Thought so.”

Josh exhaled slowly, like something in his chest had been waiting to be named. He didn’t say yes, didn’t need to.

“I don’t know what I expected,” he said, voice low. “Guess I thought... maybe something would be different.”

Debby nodded, still watching the lawn. She didn’t ask what happened, she didn’t want to pry. “And it wasn’t?”

Josh shrugged one shoulder. “It was. For a second. Then it wasn’t.”

That hung between them for a while. The wind picked up, ruffling the backs of campers’ shirts as they flapped on the line. Somewhere, someone laughed too hard at something, like they were afraid not to.

Debby glanced at him sideways. “You know,” she said, “he’s not as unreadable as he thinks he is.”

Josh blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said with a crooked smile, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s not subtle, Josh.”

Josh let out a breath, not quite a laugh. “Maybe. But whatever it is... he keeps running from it.”

Debby bumped his arm gently with her elbow. “Yeah... but he also runs toward it twice as fast, doesn’t he?”

Josh looked up at her, confusion flickering in his eyes. How... What did she know?"

She caught the question without him saying a word and grinned. “You two are not nearly as sneaky as you think, Josh.”

That earned her a crooked smile, small, but real. She grinned wider in return. “And I ship it. Just so we’re clear.”

Josh let out a quiet breath, his eyes drifting toward the dining hall, where the trophy ceremony would be held in a few hours.

“Yeah, well… Tyler would probably say there’s nothing to ship,” he said softly, but the bitterness was there, laced in the edges.

“I don’t know…” Debby nudged his shoulder gently. “I wouldn’t lose all hope just yet.” She paused, then added, “Tyler’s a good guy. He’s just- ”

She trailed off, searching for a word that wouldn’t sound like a diagnosis.

“Careful,” she settled on. “The kind of careful that looks like distance. But I think he feels more than he knows what to do with.”

Josh didn’t answer. Just nodded slightly, still twisting the Sharpie between his fingers like it could ground him.

Debby let it sit there. Then added, quietly but not without warmth, “Sometimes people who feel too much are the ones who act like they feel nothing at all.”

That one landed. Josh's jaw twitched, just barely.

She gave him one more soft smile, like she knew she’d said enough. “See you at dinner, ghost boy.”

And then she left, hair swaying behind her, walking back into the tangle of kids and counselors like it was nothing.

Josh watched her go, the Sharpie still in his hand, and told himself not to hope.

But the feeling was already there, quiet and stubborn in his chest.

Chapter Text

Tyler’s team won the trophy.

Nobody was surprised.

The announcement barely finished echoing across the dining hall before a shriek of joy exploded from Tyler’s table. His kids leapt to their feet, knocking over chairs and slamming their palms on the table like they were at a championship game. A wave of glittery confetti - courtesy of Jenna and Morgan - burst into the air above them, trailing sparkles onto their heads and into their food. No one cared.

A dozen small bodies swarmed Tyler from all sides, arms wrapping around his waist, his shoulders, his neck. One kid climbed onto the bench to ruffle his hair; another was already scribbling a Camp Champ 4EVER on the back of his counselor shirt in hot pink marker.

Tyler laughed that deep, chesty sound that only showed up when he was caught off guard. His cheeks hurt from how wide he was smiling.

Around the room, other teams clapped politely, maybe even happily. Because every camper got something that night. A memory photo. A handmade keychain. Personalized notes from their counselors rolled up like scrolls and tied with ribbon. It was celebration all around, even for those who didn’t “win.”

The air buzzed with noise and joy. Counselors were weaving through tables, shouting congratulations, handing out hugs, ducking flying napkins and glitter snowflakes.

Mark came over first, slapping Tyler on the back with a proud grin.
“Two trophies already, man. You’re a machine.”

Jenna wrapped him in a sideways hug next, confetti in her braid.
“Knew you’d snag it, the kids adore you.”

Tyler ducked his head a little, cheeks pink, muttering something humble that nobody believed. He waved off their praise with a smile, a little overwhelmed, but in the best way.

Josh came next.

He had a kid’s hoodie tied around his waist and a water bottle in one hand. His expression was calm and neutral. He was smiling just faintly.

"Congratulations, man." He held out his hand.

Tyler took it. The smile on his face forgot to disappear, but it did falter slightly when he was met with different energy than he expected.

Josh didn’t say anything else. No sarcastic crack about him rigging the vote. No playful dig about “finally retiring on a high note” or “I’m coming for you next session.” Nothing.

Tyler held onto his hand a beat too long, then let go, the absence more noticeable than it should have been. He stood there, still surrounded by clapping kids and the buzz of joy, but suddenly, it didn’t feel so loud anymore. He stared after Josh’s retreating back, something uneasy turning in his gut.

Josh always said something.

That had been their whole rhythm - competition laced with teasing, a challenge followed by a smirk. It had always been part of the dance. And Tyler had expected it again. Wanted it, even. It would’ve made everything easier. Would’ve meant things were still okay between them.

Weren't they?

Surely, their dynamic shifted a little once they started getting close on the physical level.. but that's all it was, wasn't it? Just physical. Just two bodies chasing after a release. That's what Tyler thought it was.

Then why wasn’t he getting the usual banter from Josh? Why did Josh look... different?

He didn’t look mad... or cold. He just looked like a version of himself that Tyler didn’t know how to read. And that unsettled him more than anything ever could.

Tyler blinked back into the present. A laugh bubbled up in his throat, brittle and uncertain, and he turned back toward the group of counselors, trying to rejoin the moment. But then he caught Josh pausing nearby, lingering just on the edge of the group.

And because he couldn’t help himself, Tyler tilted his head and called, lightly, “So I don’t even get a smart comment this time?”

And Tyler almost regretted asking. Because that expression on Josh's face, that faint surprise, like he'd been caught off-guard by kindness, hit harder than it should’ve.

Josh blinked and turned slowly to look at him.

Tyler’s voice had sounded almost... normal. Teasing. Like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t shut Josh out so completely the night before.

What the hell was Josh supposed to do with that?

For a split second, he just stood there, his heart lurching in confusion. Then his mouth kicked into gear before his brain caught up.

“I was gonna say you bribed the kids with sugar and emotional manipulation, but…” He shrugged, a ghost of his old smirk curling his mouth. “Didn’t want to kick you while you were basking in glory.”

He kept his tone light, casual. Like this was easy...

Tyler huffed a laugh, a real one, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little. “So generous of you.”

Josh nodded once, the smile still there. But it didn’t reach his eyes.

God, this felt... weird. He was standing here, making jokes like everything was fine, because Tyler had invited him into it. Because Tyler had asked for it. Because Josh was so damn desperate to be wanted in any capacity, he would’ve taken anything.

He didn’t know what this meant... if it was Tyler pretending, if he genuinely wanted Josh’s attention, or if it really was that easy for him to switch back to banter and push everything else down.

Josh hated that he wanted to believe the best version. That maybe this was Tyler trying. Reaching out. He hated that he wanted it enough to pretend he didn’t ache.

But he knew one thing for sure.. There was this stupid little flame of hope inside his chest, that maybe this meant Tyler would finally let him in. And if swallowing last night’s disappointment and pretending things were normal was the only way forward... then so be it.

“Guess I gotta step it up next session. Can’t let you keep the crown too long, champ.” Josh added.

Tyler smiled again, soft this time, not just amused but... something else. Relieved, maybe. Or grateful. Like something tight in his chest had unclenched. He didn’t know why it mattered so much - that Josh still teased him, still saw him as someone worth bantering with. But it did. And Tyler hated how much it did.

Josh could tell that Tyler needed this too. The easiness. The pretending. The illusion of nothing broken. He could see it in the way Tyler’s shoulders loosened slightly, the way he tilted forward just a hair, like he’d been waiting for Josh to offer him this out.

Because hope, even this stupid, fragile excuse of a hope, was better than silence.

***

The camp was quiet.

Empty cabins stood with their doors propped open, letting the breeze wander through. The scent of pine and sunscreen still clung to the air, mingling with the faint tang of charcoal from last night’s cookout. The parents had come and gone, cars were loaded with duffel bags, tear-streaked goodbyes were said as the windows rolled down for one last wave.

Now, for the first time in two weeks, everything was still.

No whistles blowing. No kids shouting across the lawn. No spilled juice or missing shoes or bunk bed squabbles to referee.

Just counselors scattered across the property, some sweeping out cabins, others hauling bins of forgotten water bottles to the lost-and-found. Jenna had dragged a hammock between two trees near the lake and chilled in the shadow with a book. There were snacks on the mess hall porch and a Bluetooth speaker playing low, cheerful music.

It was the kind of day that felt like a long exhale.

Josh went for a quick swim in the lake, even though the water hadn’t quite warmed up yet. He looked better rested than he had the day before, something about that brief conversation with Tyler had left him with a flicker of hope, and he’d chosen to cling to it.

Besides, a fresh morning swim never hurt anybody. And maybe there was one more reason he came here... one he wasn’t ready to admit out loud.

Because Tyler was also down by the lake, crouched at the edge of the dock as he coiled a rope that had been left in a soggy heap. His shirt clung to his back from the morning heat, and his hair was damp from his earlier shower.

Josh stopped swimming when he got close. He emerged from the lake with wet curls plastered to his forehead, water sliding down his bare chest as he climbed onto the dock. He shook his head out like a happy puppy, grinning as droplets flew everywhere.

Tyler looked up from where he was sitting nearby, a half-sorted pile of tangled jump ropes in his lap. He didn’t mean to stare, but... well. He did.

Just for a second.

Josh caught the look. And right then, he decided to shoot his shot.

“Careful,” he said, voice low and smug as he ran a hand through his wet hair. “You keep looking at me like that, Ty, I might start thinking you missed me.”

There it was. A simple cue. A hint. Something for Tyler to grab onto, maybe some kind of clarification. Or an opportunity for disaster, if he chose to shut down again. It could go either way. But Josh was hoping for the former.

Tyler just snorted, eyes rolling back. He was obviously in a good mood. “Oh please. I was admiring your total inability to dry off without assaulting everyone within a ten-foot radius.”

Well... Josh would take that. Hell, Josh would run with that.

He stepped a little closer, flicking water from his fingertips in Tyler’s direction, deliberately this time. “Bet you missed this though.”

Tyler wiped a droplet off his cheek with the back of his hand. “Wow. So lucky to have you back at full menace.”

Josh grinned and slung a towel over his shoulder, abs still damp and annoyingly on display. “Can’t help it. Some of us express affection through mild chaos.”

He surprised himself with how casually bold he was being. This was probably the closest thing they’d had to a conversation, and here Josh was, throwing in affection like the swim made him fearless or something. But it wasn’t going completely terribly.

Tyler wasn’t running, for one.

Tyler didn’t answer. Just looked at him, and for a second, something shifted behind his eyes. A flash of something Josh rarely saw in him. A mix of vulnerability, curiosity, maybe even the faintest trace of hope or something.

The teasing cooled into something quieter. Tyler gave a small, crooked smile, then turned back to the rope in his lap, fingers working the knots loose again.

Josh took that as a win. A small, piddly win. But a win nonetheless.

He walked away with a bounce in his step, grinning as he waved to Jenna, who was watching them from her hammock with a suspiciously knowing look. .

...

The sun dipped low over the trees, painting the lake gold. The bunkhouses had been swept, the lost-and-found pile was comically large, and the dining hall smelled like lemon-scented floor cleaner

“Good work, folks! Tomorrow we reset the circus. Tonight, we celebrate!” Mark shouted, raising a plastic cup in triumph.

Cheers echoed through the common room, where counselors lounged in clusters, already halfway into relaxation mode. Music played low from someone’s speaker. Shoes were off. Games were scattered across the tables. And there were drinks. Not a lot, but enough to feel like summer.

Tyler nursed a drink on the old plaid couch, stretched out lazily with one ankle balanced over the other knee. He wasn’t drunk. Just warm and relaxed, his cheeks were flushed, eyes soft, expression looser than usual.

Josh was across the room, deep in a laughing match with Morgan over an aggressively competitive game of Activity. His shirt had ridden up a little as he gestured wildly. Tyler tried not to notice. And he failed.

“Looks like you two are getting on better these days.” The voice came from his left. Jenna.

Tyler blinked and turned his head. She was curled up in the armchair beside him, legs tucked beneath her, a beer in hand, one brow arched in quiet curiosity.

He hesitated for a beat too long. “Yeah,” he said eventually, with a casual shrug. “We’re fine.”

Jenna hummed. “Didn’t seem fine a few days ago. After the kiss. After... whatever else happened between you?” Her voice was mild, but the look she gave him was pointed.

She was fishing. She knew something had gone down... she’d seen it in the tension, the dodging, the way they couldn’t look at each other without looking too long. Then this morning, suddenly, they were back to normal, back to bantering like nothing had happened.

Like that was normal.

And whatever it was, Jenna wanted to know. Needed to, maybe, if she was going to keep protecting Tyler. Or Josh. So yeah, call her nosy, but this? This was strategic concern. And a half-drunk Tyler was as good a target as any.

Tyler gave a lopsided smile, eyes flicking toward Josh again before drifting back. “What? We’re talking again. Joking. It’s easy. That’s… good, right?”

Jenna didn’t answer right away, just took a sip and said, “What changed?”

Tyler didn’t answer at first. He stared down into his half-empty drink, swirling the bottle a little, watching the bubbles crawl up the glass.

“I don’t know,” he said at last, quiet. “We just… started talking again.”

Jenna raised an eyebrow. “Just like that?”

Tyler shrugged, but it was slower this time. Looser. “Yeah. Kinda. We were back to joking around. Making fun of each other like always. And it felt… I don’t know. Safe.”

“Safe?” Jenna echoed, disbelief soft but clear in her voice.

Tyler winced. “Okay, maybe not safe, but... familiar.”

Jenna nodded slowly, still watching him. “And that’s enough for you?”

He glanced at her, defensive for half a second. But then he softened again, because it wasn’t an attack. Not really. She wasn’t judging, she was looking out for him, like she always did.

“I just… I thought things would get weird,” he said. “After.... You know.”

“I do not know, Ty” Jenna said mildly, taking another sip. “That’s why I’m asking.”

Tyler stared at her for a long moment. Of course she didn’t know. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know. His gaze dropped to his drink. Stupid alcohol. This was what it always did, it made him too honest with other people. Too honest with himself.

“Ty?” Jenna’s voice was gentle now, careful. “What happened between you two? Was there more than just a kiss?”

Oh boy. So much more. But how the hell was he supposed to say that?

Tyler took a quick glance around, checking that no one else was listening.

“I-” He started, then stopped. There was really no good way to say this. "Yeah," he said finally. Just that.

"Jesus, Ty," Jenna whispered. "Did you hook up?" She asked. She didn’t even whisper the last two words - just mouthed them, knowing damn well Tyler would understand.

Tyler nodded.

“More than once?” she pressed, her voice barely audible.

He nodded again, eyes dropping to his drink. He couldn’t stand the shocked look on her face.

"Well of course that would make things weird," Jenna muttered, mostly to herself.

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah... it was weird. But then it wasn’t.”

He exhaled sharply. “He came up to me the next day," he added, even though he knew he was twisting how it really happened, reframing the truth to make it sit easier in his chest.

“He said some dumb joke about the trophy. And it was like-” He paused. “We were back to normal again.”

He didn’t say that he was the one who’d asked for the joke... That he was the one who’d asked for this ‘normal.’

Jenna was quiet for a long moment. “And that doesn’t feel weird to you?”

Tyler hesitated. “No. Yes... I don’t know.”

He laughed once, sharp and breathy, then tilted his head toward her. “It’s easier, Jen. Easier than talking about what the hell it all means. If it means anything at all.”

Jenna didn’t say anything. Just tilted her head and gave him a look. The one that said You know better than that.

Tyler let out a frustrated sigh. “What do you want me to say?”

Jenna’s voice was soft. “Nothing. I just want you to be honest with yourself.”

He blinked at her, then looked away again. His eyes found Josh across the room - laughing at something, cheeks pink from beer or sun or both, one hand raking through his hair.

Tyler swallowed.

“He’s easy to be around when I don’t think about it too hard,” he said. “And when I do…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

Jenna let that hang in the air. She leaned forward a little, resting her elbow on her knee.

“I know you don’t owe anyone anything, Tyler,” she said, voice calm but steady. “But just make sure you’re not taking what you need and leaving him with the mess.”

Tyler froze.

That had never been the intention. He’d managed to convince himself this thing between them was purely physical, safe and contained. He hadn’t let himself think about the possibility that he might be wrong. That while he was trying so hard to protect himself, he might’ve hurt someone else in the process.

And that hit hard.

He nodded, slow and small. Jenna reached out and gave his wrist a quick, gentle squeeze. “You’re not a bad guy,” she said. “Just don’t act like one.”

She stood with her beer and gave him a soft, tired smile before slipping back into the hum of the common room. Tyler stayed there on the couch, watching Josh from across the room. His chest ached in a way he couldn’t name.

Maybe because deep down, he knew what he’d done. Or maybe his drunken mind had finally let him see it for what it was.

He’d spent so long trying not to get hurt, he hadn’t noticed how easily he’d become the one doing the damage. Kept telling himself it was easier this way, but Josh had never signed up to be collateral in someone else’s survival strategy.

Tyler rubbed a hand over his face. He couldn’t undo what had already happened, but he needed to find out if the damage really was done. And maybe… maybe he could stop making it worse.

...

He found Josh on the front porch, a beer in hand, watching the sunset in the hush of evening.

He was leaning against the railing, elbows braced, gazing out into the tree line like he was waiting for something. A breeze picked at the hem of his hoodie - one he’d probably thrown on just for the chill, or maybe for comfort. His hair was a little messy, probably from the wind or dancing... or both. He looked peaceful. Unbothered.

Tyler stepped up beside him.

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. Just stood there, head fuzzed from the alcohol, fingers tapping restlessly against the sweating glass bottle in his hand. He thought about Jenna’s words. The look she’d given him before she walked away. The ache under his ribs that no amount of alcohol had dulled.

He let the silence stretch. Then, finally, he said the only thing that had been running through his mind since that conversation.

“Am I hurting you?”

Josh’s head turned. Slowly. Like the question had reached him from underwater.

“What?”

Tyler kept his eyes forward. Didn’t look at him. “I need to know. If this… whatever this is between us... if it’s hurting you.”

Josh blinked at him, startled into silence. “Tyler…”

Josh’s mind started racing. Part of him had waited for this... for Tyler to finally name what was happening between them. But now that the moment was here, Tyler’s words sharp and real, they cut through his chest like glass.

“I mean it,” Tyler cut in, softer now. “Because I know keep running, that I keep pulling you in only to shove you back. I know I do that. And I don’t want to... I just-"

Josh didn’t speak. He didnt dare.. His breath came quietly, steadily, controled like he was afraid that saying something or breathing too loud would tip the moment over.

Tyler’s voice dropped, his next words barely audible. “I’m scared, Josh.”

He finally looked at him then. Eyes glassy, not just from the beer. “I’m scared shitless of this. Of you. Of how you make me feel. I’ve been alone in my head for so long that I forgot what it’s like to let anyone in. And I think I… I want to. But I don’t know how to do it without breaking something.”

Josh’s jaw tensed, like he was holding something back. Not anger. Not pain. Just emotion, heavy and real.

Because God... he’d wanted to hear this. To know it hadn’t all been in his head - the wanting, the closeness, the ache of it. But now that it was out in the open, it hit differently.

He wanted to reach for Tyler, to close the gap and tell him it was okay. That he was okay. But some small, careful part of him still braced for disappointment. Because being wanted wasn’t the same as being chosen. And he didn’t know which one Tyler was offering.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Tyler added. “I never wanted to be someone who makes things worse for anyone.”

Josh took a slow breath, then exhaled. "It did hurt me. But... I also understand. I think."

Tyler blinked. “You do?”

Josh nodded, slow and quiet. “Yeah. I do.”

His voice was steady, but there was a roughness to it. Something raw just beneath the surface. “You don’t let people in easy. I figured that out pretty early. But I also feel like you don’t pull people close unless it means something.”

Tyler looked down at his shoes, at the soft scuff of gravel beneath their feet, the way Josh’s shadow leaned just slightly toward his.

“I’m asking for time. Space. I don’t know.”

Josh didn’t flinch. He just stood there, close and solid. “You can have that. I’ll give you whatever you need… as long as you’re honest with me.”

Tyler glanced up, brows drawn. “Honest?”

Josh’s gaze held his. “Yeah. If you need to run sometimes, okay. But don’t lie to me about why. Don’t pretend it didn’t matter just because you’re scared that it did.”

Tyler felt that like a punch to the chest.

Because yeah. He had done exactly that. With words he didn’t mean, and silence he thought would protect him. He’d drawn a line in the sand and then acted like he didn’t care when Josh didn’t cross it.

But Josh had crossed it anyway. Again and again. Even now.

A few beats passed. The distance between them didn’t grow, and maybe that said something too.

Josh’s voice dropped, playful now, but still gentle. “So… was that the talk? Or do I still owe you one?”

Tyler rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth tugged upward. “Don’t push your luck.”

Josh bumped his shoulder lightly. “Too late.”

Tyler’s breath caught. Just for a second. Because that touch - as light as it was - landed.

And he knew. He knew it would be so easy to close the distance between them again. His body remembered it already... how good it felt to be touched, to be wanted, to let someone in and not fall apart completely.

So when he turned to look at Josh again, his voice came out lower, rawer.

“I still want you.”

Josh’s eyes flicked to his mouth. Just briefly. Then back up.

“Ty.”

Another beat of silence. Their shoulders still touching. The air charged like it had teeth.

Josh exhaled slowly, like he was bracing for something. “We should go inside before someone comes looking.”

“Probably,” Tyler agreed, but didn’t move.

And neither did Josh.

Chapter Text

Josh exhaled slowly, like he was bracing for something. “We should go inside before someone comes looking.”

“Probably,” Tyler agreed, not moving.

Josh turned toward him slightly, just enough that their fronts nearly faced, their shoulders still brushing. The pull between them was magnetic, but still, Josh couldn't help but wonder...

“Ty...How drunk are you?” Josh asked, voice low, careful. “Everything you said… are you- ... are you gonna remember it tomorrow?”

Tyler turned his head just enough to meet his eyes. His expression was open. Honest. Softened by the dusk light.

“I’m not that drunk,” he said simply. “Tipsy, yeah. Looser than usual. Definitely more honest than usual... But I meant it.”

Josh nodded, once, like something in his chest had just settled, but it didn’t lessen the heat between them. If anything, it made it worse. Or better. Or both.

Tyler was the one who leaned in first, slow and unhurried. Like he wasn’t sure if this was allowed anymore, but God... he wanted it.

Josh didn’t pull away. He stood still, breath hitching, his gaze flicking between Tyler’s eyes and mouth like he was waiting for permission or a reason not to. He didn’t get one.

Tyler’s lips met his in a kiss that started out tentative, soft, searching.

But when Josh sighed against his mouth, leaned into it, brought a hand up to touch the side of Tyler’s jaw like he couldn’t help himself, something shifted. The kiss deepened, sharp with urgency and ache, like the hours and days between them had been a desert and this was the only drink either of them had found.

Josh angled his head, tilting to chase more, mouth parting just slightly. Tyler groaned softly and pressed in, his hands sliding up Josh’s sides, fingertips digging into the fabric of his shirt like he needed something to hold onto

Tyler stepped in closer, and Josh’s hands found his hips instinctively, gripping tight, like he was anchoring both of them.

When they finally broke apart, breathing hard, foreheads close, Tyler’s voice was low and thick in the space between them.

“Come back with me?”

Josh didn’t ask what he meant. Didn’t need to. He just nodded, gaze dark and unreadable but wanting. “Yeah.”

They walked in silence, close but not touching, the space between them thick with the heat of everything unsaid. The path was familiar, but it felt different now - charged. A shared gravity pulled at them with every step. Tyler’s fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for him.

By the time they reached the cabin, the tension had doubled. Tripled, maybe.

The door clicked shut behind them. And before the silence could settle, Tyler turned around and looked Josh straight in the eye. His cheeks were flushed, his lips still kiss-bruised.

For a second, he just looked at Josh, like he was searching for something. Like the words were already on his tongue but still cost something to say.

Then, quietly but clearly, he said, “I want you to fuck me.”

Josh’s breath caught. His spine went tight like someone had snapped a wire. He blinked once, hard, as if to make sure he’d actually heard it.

Tyler just stood there, hands at his sides, waiting. No teasing, no grin. Just open, honest, like this was the truest thing he’d said in days.

Josh moved. He crossed the room in two long strides and grabbed Tyler by the hips, backing him against the wall like gravity itself was bending toward him. Their mouths met again, frantic this time, all teeth and need and tongue. Josh pushed against him, full-body, pressing him into the wood, and Tyler moaned into the kiss like it had been punched out of him.

Tyler clutched at the back of Josh’s neck, fingers digging into damp curls, the other hand sliding down to fist the hem of Josh’s shirt and yank it upward, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it off. Josh didn’t hesitate - he tore Tyler’s shirt over his head too, hands splayed across the newly bared skin of his chest.

Their bodies pressed together, chest to chest, skin to skin. Josh’s hands were everywhere, up Tyler’s sides, over his back, gripping hard at his waist like he needed something to anchor him to the moment.

Tyler gasped against his lips, head falling back with a thud against the wall as Josh’s mouth dragged down his neck, biting gently, then soothing with his tongue. He was already panting, already trembling.

“You’re so fucking hot like this,” Josh muttered, his voice low, rough, almost reverent.

Tyler only whimpered in response, grinding up against him, nails scraping down Josh’s back. And that was it. That was the moment it tipped into something desperate.

The rest of their clothes came off in pieces - belt buckles fumbled, zippers shoved down with shaking hands. It wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t choreographed. It was wild, hot... a storm of limbs and mouths and gasps between broken kisses.

Tyler shoved Josh’s pants down and palmed his cock - hard, heavy, already leaking. “Oh... so hard already,” Tyler breathed, gaze dark and hungry. “Can’t wait to feel you.”

Josh made the kind of sound that was half-growl, half-moan.

“God, you drive me fucking insane,” Josh panted against his neck, dragging his teeth along Tyler’s jaw. “You can’t say shit like that and expect me to keep it together.”

“I don’t want you to,” Tyler rasped, one hand grabbing the back of Josh’s neck, pulling him in again. “I want you wild, loud. I want you losing your mind while you're inside me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Josh breathed, hips bucking against Tyler’s. “You want me to ruin you, huh?”

Tyler gasped at that, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Yeah. Please."

Josh kissed him again, slower this time, steadier, like he needed to anchor them both before they completely lost control. Then he nudged Tyler back toward the bed.

They stumbled onto it together, mouths never parting for long. Josh landed on top of him, straddling Tyler’s hips, both of them breathless and flushed, their bare skin sticking where it touched. He rolled his hips down, grinding into Tyler with enough pressure to make them both moan.

Tyler arched beneath him, gasping. “Fuck, that’s-”

Josh chuckled against his mouth, dark and low. “That what you wanted, baby? Huh? Wanted me on top of you, making you squirm?”

“Yes,” Tyler hissed, bucking again. “Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.”

Josh reached down, wrapping a hand around both of their cocks and stroking hard, fast, twisting his wrist at the top just to watch Tyler fall apart.

“God,” Tyler choked. “...been thinking about this. About you. I couldn’t stop.”

Josh licked into his mouth, hungry and hot. “You should’ve said something.”

“I’m saying it now,” Tyler groaned. “I want you. I want your cock inside me. I want to feel it for days.”

That snapped something loose in Josh. He groaned, wrecked and desperate, forehead briefly dropping to Tyler’s shoulder like he needed a second to keep from losing it right then and there.

“Do you... fuck... do you have anything?” he asked, voice strained, breath dragging.

Tyler reached blindly toward the nightstand, pulled the drawer open, and shoved a bottle of lube and a foil packet into Josh’s hand without looking. “Just... don’t ask why I have it.”

Josh let out a broken laugh, equal parts relief and disbelief, and then he was moving, fast and frantic, fumbling with the cap, tearing the wrapper with his teeth, hands shaking like his body was running on pure heat.

“Turn over,” he rasped.

Tyler obeyed without hesitation, flipping onto his stomach, legs spread, ass high... presenting himself like it was instinct, like he wanted to be taken apart.

Josh sucked in a breath like he was drowning. “Oh my God... you’re fucking perfect.”

He took a moment to knead the flesh of Tyler’s ass, thumbs digging in, spreading him open and groaning under his breath at the sight. Tyler was flushed all over, breathing hard, trembling with anticipation.

Josh slicked his fingers, then leaned in, placing a hot, open-mouthed kiss between Tyler’s shoulder blades before sliding a finger in, slow and steady.

Tyler gasped, his forehead dropping to the pillow.

Josh added another, stretching him open with patient rhythm and whispered praise. “You take it so well, baby,” he murmured, voice rough, reverent. “So tight, so ready. You were made for this.”

Tyler was panting now, hips twitching, pushing back against Josh’s hand like he couldn’t get enough.

“Please, Josh,” he moaned. “Please, I need it.”

Josh didn’t make him beg twice.

He reached for the condom, rolled it on with practiced urgency, then slicked himself up with a low hiss through his teeth. His hands steadied Tyler’s hips, fingers gripping tight, and he lined himself up.

Then he pushed in.

Both of them groaned in unison, the sound echoing in the empty cabin like it belonged there.

Tyler dropped his head into the mattress, breath shattering. “Fuck... yes. Just like that. Fill me.”

Josh braced his hands on either side of Tyler’s back and started to move - slow, deep thrusts that made Tyler cry out and shove back to meet him.

“You feel so fucking good,” Josh gasped, picking up speed, the slap of skin on skin loud and filthy. “You’re so fucking tight around me, Ty... shit-”

Tyler couldn’t speak anymore. Just moaned, raw and open, his hand fisting the sheets like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Josh bent low, mouthing at his shoulder, his neck. “I’ve wanted this. Wanted you. Even when it hurt.”

Tyler let out a shaky breath, voice low. “Yeah... I know I didn’t make it easy."

Josh thrust deeper. Harder. “You really didn’t.”

Tyler’s voice cracked. “So don’t go easy on me now... Fuck me like you mean it.”

Josh lost it.

He slammed into him, relentless now, hips snapping forward with purpose, their bodies colliding in a rhythm that felt more like confession than sex. The bed creaked under the force of it, headboard tapping the wall, sheets twisted around their legs like they'd been dragged into this moment by gravity alone.

Josh reached around, one arm wrapping tight across Tyler’s chest, the other slipping lower - his hand curling around Tyler’s cock, stroking him in time with each thrust. He whispered filth against Tyler’s neck, words slurred and raw, but Tyler barely heard them. He only felt the weight of Josh above him, the fire in his spine, the hand dragging him closer and closer to the edge.

Tyler was shaking, his thighs trembling, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. “Jos... fuck... I’m not gonna-”

“Yeah,” Josh growled, lips pressed to his ear. “Come for me. Come with me.”

Tyler obeyed.

He came with a wrecked, broken moan, hips jerking helplessly, his body locking up tight beneath Josh as he spilled into the sheets, voice hoarse with release.

Josh followed seconds later, the feeling of Tyler clenching around him undoing every last shred of restraint. He groaned Tyler’s name like a prayer, like it was the only thing holding him together, and came hard, hips stuttering through the final thrusts.

They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and sweat and overstimulation, breathing like they’d just sprinted through fire. Josh leaned down, pressing gentle kisses to the back of Tyler’s neck, his lips soft where his grip had once been hard.

Outside, the camp was quiet, but inside, nothing had ever felt louder.

They lay tangled in the aftermath, skin sticky with sweat, breath still heavy and uneven. The sheets were a mess, the air thick with the scent of sex and something unspoken. But for once, Tyler didn’t pull away.

Josh didn’t expect the way Tyler curled into him, head tucked against his shoulder, one arm slung lazily across Josh’s waist like it belonged there. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Like maybe he’d wanted to do this all along.

Josh stayed perfectly still for a moment, afraid to even breathe too loud. His hand hovered uncertainly in the air before it settled, gently, on the curve of Tyler’s back. He let it stay there, tracing slow, absentminded shapes into warm skin, feeling every rise and fall of Tyler’s chest against his side.

The silence between them wasn’t heavy now. It was soft. Earned.

Josh closed his eyes, chest swelling with something sharp and tender and dangerous. He could feel Tyler relaxing with each breath - muscles going loose, jaw unclenching, that ever-present tension finally melting into the mattress. He was letting himself rest. Letting himself be held.

Josh didn’t say anything. Didn’t ruin it with a joke or a thought. He just stayed.

And then, slowly, he felt the shift - the weight of Tyler’s arm growing heavier, his breathing evening out. One final exhale brushed Josh’s collarbone like a sigh, and then Tyler went completely still.

Asleep.

Josh stayed like that for a few minutes longer, holding him, soaking in every second. He watched the way Tyler’s lashes rested against his flushed cheeks, how his lips had parted just slightly in sleep. He looked younger like this. Softer. Less guarded.

It hit him, then, hard and sudden, just how much he wanted to be here when Tyler woke up. To see him in the morning light, groggy and real, no shields up. But… would Tyler want that?

Josh’s smile dimmed.

Tyler had asked for time. For space. For something Josh still wasn’t sure how to define. And while tonight felt like progress, it also felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, toes hanging over.

What if waking up beside him was too much?

What if it pushed him back into that place where he ran?

Josh didn’t want to risk it. Not now. Not when they’d just found this tentative peace. So he slipped out slowly, gently easing Tyler’s arm off his waist. Tyler stirred, mumbled something incoherent, but didn’t wake. Josh pressed a soft kiss to his temple, letting his lips linger there longer than he should have.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered. “I hope.”

He dressed quietly, stealing one last glance before slipping out into the night.

The porch was quiet, the common room windows glowing faintly in the distance. Laughter and music drifted faintly across the breeze, the last echoes of the night.

Josh stuffed his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched against the cool air. His chest still ached, but it wasn’t the same hollow ache as before.

It was something else now. Uncertainty, yes. But under that?

Hope.

Real, wild, maybe even stupid. But alive.

And for the first time in a while, he let himself hold onto it.

...

The morning light was soft when Tyler woke. It spilled through the slats of the blinds in long, gentle lines, cutting across the room in stripes of gold. Somewhere outside, birds were chirping, but it was still that rare kind of quiet you only got after the storm of check-out day. No kids screaming, no parents honking, no luggage thudding down the steps.

Just calm.

He blinked up at the ceiling for a long time, his brain slow to catch up with his body. The sheets were twisted around his legs, the air still thick with the heat of the night and the unmistakable scent of sweat and sex. His muscles ached in that good way, like every inch of his body had been used - thoroughly, willingly.

Tyler blinked at the empty space beside him.

Josh was gone.

And part of him was grateful for that.

No confrontation. No awkward conversation. No waking up beside someone who looked at him too closely. Just space, and silence.

Thank God.

He turned onto his side, eyes falling on the hollow in the mattress where Josh had been. The impression was still there -creased sheets, a faint dip where his weight had been, a little leftover warmth if Tyler let himself imagine it.

And for a moment, all he felt was relief.

It was better this way. Easier. Josh leaving meant he didn’t have to explain why he’d probably have panicked the second they made eye contact.

It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy it. Fuck, he’d enjoyed it.

It was just that if Josh had stayed…

If he’d woken up with Josh beside him, still warm from sleep, still soft from whatever passed between them - he might’ve said something stupid. Pulled away, or shut down.

He wasn’t ready for that.

But Josh hadn’t stayed. He’d given Tyler space, just like Tyler asked for. And for reasons Tyler didn’t fully understand, that made something inside him ache.

Josh had handled this differently. Had treated him differently. No pressure, no punishment, no games... Just that same maddening, quiet patience that Tyler still didn’t know what to do with.

Maybe that’s what was scaring him most of all.

Because if Josh really was different - if last night wasn’t just a moment but a mirror - then what did that say about everything Tyler had been avoiding? About what he might actually want?

He didn’t have the answers.

But for once, he wasn’t clawing at the walls trying to find them.

He was just… sitting here, breathing, present. And he felt okay.

Maybe that meant something too.

...

Josh didn’t sleep much after he left Tyler’s cabin.

He’d tried. Tossed and turned in his sheets, staring up at the ceiling, letting every possible version of the next morning play out in his head. He hoped he’d made the right call. That leaving had given Tyler the space he asked for. That Tyler wouldn’t wake up feeling hurt or abandoned.

By the time he finally got up, the camp was already stirring. Counselors filtered out of cabins with coffee mugs in hand, the sun warming the field, a breeze tugging at the flags near the mess hall. The start of a new session always brought this strange mix of exhaustion and energy - like everyone had just crossed a finish line only to be handed a new race number.

He grabbed a muffin from the mess hall porch and wandered toward the cabins, scanning the area automatically. He told himself he wasn’t looking for anyone.

Until he spotted Tyler.

He was standing by the registration table with Mark and Morgan, laughing about something, his posture loose and unguarded. He looked rested. Sun-kissed. Smiling.

Josh froze for a second. Just long enough for the knot in his stomach to loosen.

Okay.

Tyler didn’t look tense or avoidant. He looked… good. Relaxed. That was probably all that Josh needed.

Mark and Morgan spotted him first across the lawn, waving a silent hello. Tyler turned at that, caught Josh’s eye and without missing a beat, offered a small wave and a half-smile. Casual. Like everything was fine.

Josh’s chest tightened in a different way this time.

He smiled back.

It seemed like he’d made the right call after all...

The cars and buses rolled in not long after. A chorus of squeaky brakes and duffel bags thudding against gravel. New kids piled out, wide-eyed and half-asleep, greeted with name tags and welcome cheers from the counselor crew.

Josh was kneeling beside a little boy who was valiantly losing a battle with his backpack strap when he heard a voice cut through the noise - a voice that could only belong to a teenage girl.

“Tyler!”

Josh turned in time to see a blur of long brown hair and glittery sunglasses launch itself into Tyler’s arms.

“Amyyyyy,” Tyler huffed as she collided with his chest, staggering back a step. “You’re back?”

“Duh,” she grinned, stepping back and adjusting the tote bag on her shoulder. “Fourth year in a row. I’m basically camp royalty.”

Tyler snorted. “You’re really a chaos goblin with a glitter addiction hitting puberty, but sure. Royalty works.” He glanced down at his clipboard, flipping pages to find her name.

Josh wandered over just in time to catch her next line-

“Here to sign up for Team Tyler, I assume?” Tyler asked, pen already checking a few boxes under her name.

“Yeeeaaah,” she drawled, in a tone that was anything but confirming. “Sorry, boss, but I’m switching teams this year.” Amy squared her shoulders dramatically.

Tyler blinked. “You’re what?”

“Me and my friend Brooklyn made a pact. She begged me to be on her team so she wouldn’t die in the woods. I couldn’t say no.”

Tyler put a hand to his heart like she’d stabbed him. “Amy. After all we’ve been through?”

"I know, I knowww. But I'm sure you'll live." She smiled sweetly at him, and Josh had to smother a laugh.

“Besides,” she added, “I wanna see what it’s like to win the trophy for someone else this time.”

Tyler made a loud, wounded sound. “Thats it. You’re dead to me.”

Amy just laughed harder, clearly unfazed. She knew he was only teasing.

Josh couldn’t help himself, he saw the perfect opening and took it.

“Oh come on, man,” he said, sidling up beside Tyler. “She’s got ambition. Respect it.” Then he turned toward Amy with a grin. “Anyway, Amy... team Josh would be honored to have you, if you’re ready to help take down this old grandpa.”

Tyler turned to him, mock-offended. “You’re seriously siding with her?”

Josh gave a solemn nod. “I’m just saying… if you lose to Mark’s team this session, I’m not sure your reputation will survive. At least lose to someone respectable."

Amy watched them with a raised brow, thoroughly entertained. Her gaze bounced between the two of them like she was watching a ping-pong match she absolutely understood the subtext of.

“Okayyy,” she said at last, slinging her tote bag higher on her shoulder. “Pretty sure Brooklyn teamed with one of the girls anyway. I’m gonna go find her before she signs up for dodgeball and dies alone.”

She gave Tyler a cheeky little salute. “Good luck, Counselor Has-Been.”

Then she spun on her heel and sauntered off, glitter catching the sunlight as she disappeared into the crowd.

Tyler exhaled through a laugh. “She’s gotten mouthier.”

“I like her,” Josh said, still watching her retreat. “She’s got main character energy. She might be coming for that trophy, you know.”

“Whatever.” Tyler scoffed, recovering fast. “I’m still ahead in total wins. I can afford a minor dip.”

Josh grinned, heat creeping into his smile. “A minor dip? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Tyler bumped his shoulder. “Watch it, Coach. I might still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Josh leaned in, voice low but amused. “You better. I made a promise to talk shit all session if I win.”

Tyler looked at him, really looked, and for a flicker of a second, the teasing settled into something quieter. Something warmer.

“Yeah?” he said. “Then I guess I’ll just have to make sure you don’t.”

Josh smirked. “Hmm… and how on earth would you do that?”

They were entering dangerous territory now, but neither of them seemed interested in backing out.

Tyler’s gaze lingered a second longer than necessary. Then he stepped closer and leaned down, voice low near Josh’s ear - just for him.

“Might start with putting that mouth of yours to better use.”

Josh froze. His eyebrows shot up, mouth parting like he’d just been short-circuited mid-sentence. For a second, he genuinely forgot how to breathe.

The smirk he’d been wearing faltered - not gone, just warped into something dazed. Like his brain had tripped over itself and landed face-first in the gutter.

Tyler had already turned back to the clipboard like nothing happened, then he clapped his hands.

“All right, next one in line! Come on up!”

Chapter Text

The first few days of camp came and went in their usual whirlwind, all loud, chaotic, and packed with fresh faces. But as always, the counselors handled it with the same steady patience, gradually transforming wide-eyed, confused campers into kids who knew the ropes. Until the daily schedule started to stick, the questions quieted and the rhythm returned.

There wasn’t much time for Tyler and Josh to be alone, but they still managed to steal a few moments - between workshops, during the midday lull, or after curfew. Even if it was just a sloppy makeout or a quick handjob behind the laundry shack.

They skipped meals and sacrificed sleep just for those quick, barely-satisfying moments. But they just couldn’t help it. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Mark almost walked in on them once... when Josh had Tyler pinned against the door of his cabin, Tyler's cock deep inside his mouth, hands gripping tight at his thighs, when a knock rattled the wood and sent a jolt down Tyler’s spine.

They both froze as Mark’s voice rang out on the other side, calling Tyler’s name.

Josh was pretty sure all it would’ve taken was a twist of the doorknob, and the weight of them would’ve spilled right through. Right onto the porch. Tyler with his pants around his knees. Josh’s mouth still probably wrapped around his dick like a man possessed.

That would’ve been a sight.

Thankfully, Mark had just walked away when he got no answer.

But it was a close call.

Ever since then, they’d claimed the old laundry shack as their secret meeting spot.

Let’s face it, nobody at this camp had done laundry in the past ten years. The small hut was so dilapidated the kids were too scared to go near it. And, as it turned out, the abandoned washing machine inside was just about the perfect height for Tyler to perch on and pull Josh in between his thighs.

They’d perfected the craft of getting off quickly, somewhat quietly, and at times when no one would find it suspicious that they’d both disappeared.

The only thing Josh wished for was a little more time to wind down afterward - maybe talk, cuddle a little - but at the start of a new session, that was a luxury they couldn’t afford. So he took what he could get and told himself there’d be time for all that later.

The pace began to falter only after the fifth day. And for some people, it was a sharp change.

...

Tyler sat on the edge of the porch, a chipped ceramic mug cradled in his hands. The steam had long since faded, leaving behind only the faint scent of over-steeped tea. Beside him, his clipboard lay untouched, the schedule sheet clipped beneath it looking more like a personal insult than a list of names.

It was completely empty.

He exhaled sharply through his nose and muttered, mostly to himself, “Unbelievable. Not a single sign-up for music? What, did I become uncool overnight?”

From somewhere behind him, a voice called out, lazy and smug. “You ever been cool?”

Tyler turned just in time to catch Josh rounding the corner, tennis ball bouncing in one hand, his expression far too smug for someone who wasn’t even on the schedule yet.

“I’m serious,” Tyler grumbled, gesturing at the sad clipboard. “Everyone signed up for the riding lessons. Every single kid. I checked the sheet twice.”

Josh leaned over his shoulder like he needed to verify the evidence. “Damn. Jenna and Debby out here running a cult or what?”

“Apparently,” Tyler muttered. “Even the twins. The twins, Josh. They can’t tell a ukulele from a lunch tray.”

Josh clicked his tongue, mock-sympathetic. “Harsh. Maybe the horses offer something music just can’t.”

“Like what? Poop and hay allergies?”

Josh didn’t reply, just dropped down onto the porch beside him, elbows resting on his knees, grin crooked and lazy.

After a beat, he shrugged. “You know, I’ve got nothing scheduled for another two hours. We could go help out. Make sure the horse girls haven’t staged a full-blown takeover.”

Tyler blinked. “You want to voluntarily show up to someone else’s workshop?”

Josh tilted his head, feigning offense. “Hey, just because I don’t believe in planning doesn’t mean I don’t believe in chaos control.”

Tyler snorted. “You just want to go because you hope I’ll end up getting roped into something humiliating.”

Josh grinned wider, eyes dancing. “And because I think you in horse girl territory sounds like the start of a very good morning.”

Tyler considered it. All teasing aside, he could only imagine how much work Jenna and Debby had on their hands right now, considering almost every single camper had signed up for the riding lessons. He was pretty sure Josh knew that too. And as much as he teased, Tyler could tell he genuinely wanted to help.

He couldn’t believe he was about to willingly go anywhere near horses.

“Fine,” Tyler sighed, pushing himself up with a groan. “But if I get kicked by a pony, I’m blaming you personally.”

Josh stood, already reaching for the clipboard. “Deal."

They walked in companionable silence toward the barn, the early sun casting long shadows across the grass. It wasn’t a short walk.. past the stables, down a narrow path between trees, alongside the outer fences of the horse enclosures.

Their shoulders brushed a few times as they stumbled downhill toward the riding field. Both of them well aware of it, but neither of them moved away. Neither of them said anything. Now wasn’t the time.

They arrived at the riding paddock just as the next batch of campers was being paired with horses. The place looked like something out of a catalog - sunlight streaming through the open beams, hay bales stacked artfully, and Debby leading a pony with two braids in its mane like some kind of Pinterest cowboy.

Jenna spotted them first. She stood in the middle of the field, holding two dark bay geldings while the campers swapped out their helmets. Her hair was tied up in a bandana, her usual calm aura dialed up to eleven.

“Well, look what the morning dragged in,” she called as they neared, lifting a brow. “To what do we owe the honor?”

“Unemployment,” Josh said, tossing Tyler a sideways look. “Figured we’d lend a hand since music’s...uh, temporarily out of service.”

Tyler muttered, “Don’t rub it in.”

Jenna smirked. “Well, I think we’ve got it handled, but you’re welcome to hang around. Extra hands never hurt.”

That turned out to be a huge overstatement.

Josh volunteered to refill the water buckets and promptly spilled half of one into his own shoe. Tyler offered to adjust a camper’s helmet and nearly snapped the buckle shut on his own finger. Every time they moved, a horse sneezed on them.

Debby walked by at one point, leading a glossy chestnut mare, and grinned. “You boys look so natural. Josh, I might steal you more often now that I know how handy you are,” she said, nudging him in the side.

Josh flipped her a lazy salute. “We aim to impress.”

Tyler frowned slightly at the exchange, unsure if Debby was just being friendly or if that was flirting. Not that it mattered. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it, because the next second, a high-pitched voice cut through the paddock.

“Yo, Tyler! Did you come to take a ride?” Amy shouted from the far corner of the field.

Tyler froze. Josh blinked at him, amused.

Another voice chimed in. “Yeah! You should totally try!”

And that was it. Within seconds, the paddock had erupted into a chorus of excited chaos. “Ride the horse!” “Come on, Tyler!” “Tyler, do a trick!”

Even Josh joined the hype. Of course he did. The traitor.

Debby walked over, eyes sparkling. “Oh, I love this idea.”

“Absolutely not,” Tyler said at once, holding up both hands like the horses were going to stage a coordinated ambush.

Jenna grinned from where she was standing, and Josh jabbed him in the ribs, looking far too pleased. “Kids want a show. Who are you to say no?”

Tyler turned to him slowly, eyes narrowing. “If I ride, you ride too.”

Josh just grinned. “Obviously.”

They were given the gentlest horses in the barn, but even those looked vaguely judgmental. Josh swung a leg over with cautious confidence, settling into the saddle with a focused expression. He adjusted his grip on the reins, brow furrowed in concentration, but… he didn’t look bad up there.

He looked... competent.

Which was deeply unfortunate, because Tyler was doing the exact opposite.

The second he got on his horse, it shifted beneath him and Tyler let out a noise that could only be described as yep, I regret everything. His legs stuck out at a weird angle, stiff and far too straight, and he clutched the saddle horn like it was the only thing tethering him to the planet.

“Looking good, Coach!” Debby called out, all mock sincerity.

Tyler’s whole body flinched like someone had yanked him by an invisible leash. His face went crimson, and he looked away fast, ears burning. The kids kept cheering. Debby giggled behind her hand.

Josh looked infuriatingly smug on his horse, all relaxed, steady, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

After a few more awkward strides, Tyler cleared his throat. “Okay. I’m done. This horse and I have reached a mutual agreement: I get off, and it doesn’t throw me.”

“You sure?” Josh called, clearly enjoying himself. “You seemed very comfortable up there. Natural, even.”

Tyler didn’t answer. He just clumsily slid off the horse, shoved his hair back with a sharp sigh, and handed the reins to Debby with a quiet mutter of thanks. He was deeply, soul-level grateful to have both feet on solid ground again.

Josh, of course, took another round - either for good measure or just to show off - and dismounted with a theatrical ease that made Tyler want to trip him.

“Alright, I don’t think we’ll be needing you two anymore,” Jenna called from the center of the field as she took the horse from Josh and led it away.

Tyler was already making a hasty retreat from the paddock, ears still red from public humiliation. Josh took a few long steps to catch up, his tone practically glowing with mischief. Tyler could hear it in his voice already - the teasing, the smugness. He didn’t even have to look.

And damn Josh for looking that good even on a freaking horse.

The image kept flashing behind his eyes... Josh up there all confident and easy, reins in hand, thighs firm against the saddle like he belonged there. And then there was Tyler, stiff and off-balance.

But it wasn’t just the embarrassment making heat crawl up his neck.

It was Josh. The way he grinned like he knew something. The way his stupid curls bounced in the sun. The way he looked back at Tyler after climbing down, a little too smug, a little too hot, and way too in control.

Tyler’s blood was buzzing under his skin. With leftover adrenaline. With annoyance. And with something painfully familiar - want.

“I’m never doing that again,” Tyler said flatly, cutting Josh off before he could open his mouth.

Josh smirked anyway. “What… not a fan of riding?”

And really, that small comment was enough for something inside Tyler to snap.

When they turned the corner, just out of sight from the paddock, he grabbed Josh by the front of his shirt and shoved him back against the nearest tree. Josh barely had time to register the splintering wood at his back before Tyler stepped in, close, flush, his body pressed tight against Josh’s like it belonged there.

Josh froze, stunned by the ambush, breath catching in his throat as Tyler stared at him with that dark and heated look.

“Oh, I’m a huge fan of riding,” Tyler murmured, voice low and curling around every word. “In fact, I love riding.”

He loosened his grip on Josh’s shirt, fingers trailing slowly down his chest, brushing over his stomach, light but possessive.

Josh’s breath stuttered. His hands hovered uselessly at his sides, unsure if he was supposed to push Tyler away or pull him in harder.

Tyler leaned in even closer, mouth brushing the shell of Josh’s ear as he whispered:

“But I don’t ride horses.” A pause... Then, slow and wicked, he murmured: “I ride dick.”

Josh choked on air. His whole body went taut, eyes blown wide, mouth parting but no sound coming out. Every coherent thought in his brain just… left the building.

Tyler pulled back just enough to drink in the wreckage of his expression and smirked.

“Meet me in the shack after the bonfire tonight,” he said, cool and casual like he hadn’t just ruined the man. “I’ll show you just how good I am at riding.”

Then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving Josh pinned to the bark, stunned and speechless, the ghost of Tyler’s voice still hot in his ear.

Josh exhaled a slow, shaky breath, trying to remember what planet he was on. He was going to die in that shack tonight.

...

They never made it through the bonfire.

The log tower still burned bright when Tyler shot Josh a knowing smirk and slipped away. The kids remained gathered around the fire pit - singing, laughing, and chasing shadows with their flashlights. Jenna and Morgan were toasting marshmallows, Mark had a card game going, and Debby was braiding hair for every girl on her team. It was a calm, firelit night, full of easy fun and sugary snacks.

But Josh only had one thing on his mind.

He counted to fifty twice, glanced around to see where everyone was, then disappeared into the shadows himself.

The path to the laundry shack was quiet, moonlight filtering through the trees in pale stripes that lit the narrow trail beneath his feet. Not that he needed the light, he could walk this road blindfolded. Hell, he could follow Tyler’s scent alone and still find his way.

He pushed open the rickety door of the shack and stepped into the dark, the musty smell of dust and old detergent thick in the air. Josh slipped inside without a word and shut the door behind him. His eyes adjusted quickly, landing on Tyler immediately.

He was already perched on top of the old washing machine. His legs gave one last nervous swing, but when Josh came closer, they stilled.

“C’mere,” Tyler said softly. Almost too softly, considering the promise hanging in the air.

Josh closed the distance in a few quick steps, and Tyler grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him the rest of the way. Their mouths collided like magnets snapping together, messy and deep from the very beginning. Josh’s hands found Tyler’s thighs and spread them apart, stepping in close, pressing their bodies together. .

“Ah-ah,” Tyler tsked, just before Josh settled in. “Tonight, you sit... Down here,” he said, nodding toward a wooden chair beside them.

Tyler began unbuttoning Josh’s shirt slowly, deliberately, while Josh glanced down, taking in the old chair. Just a few days ago, he hadn’t even realized it was there. But Tyler had apparently taken the time to clear off the heap of clothes and bedsheets to reveal that there was, in fact, a chair underneath.

It looked old enough to remember the very first year of camp. The paint was peeling off, the seat worn down by decades of use, but Josh was too high on anticipation to care about the state of it.

“Don’t worry,” Tyler said, his fingers already dancing along Josh’s belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease. “I wiped it down with a washcloth. Tested it. It holds. So-”

He hopped off the washing machine to push Josh’s pants down, dragging the fabric over his hips with a practiced slide. Josh, flushed and buzzing with anticipation, kicked them the rest of the way off, stepping out with a little stumble that made Tyler smirk against his jaw.

“-it’s all ready for you,” he murmured into Josh’s ear before nipping at his earlobe.

Josh whimpered softly into Tyler’s mouth as they kissed again, stumbling back toward the chair under Tyler’s guiding hands. Tyler broke the kiss only to murmur, “I believe I promised you a ride,” his voice low and dark as Josh’s knees hit the edge of the seat. “So you just sit there and be pretty yeah?”

With one final push, Josh dropped into the chair.

He looked up at Tyler, who was still standing over him, smirking like he already had Josh exactly where he wanted him.

Josh was already halfway wrecked, shirt completely undone, pants gone, boxers tenting dangerously under Tyler’s gaze. He was breathing hard, arms resting uselessly on his thighs, unsure where to put them or how to hold himself together.

“Now, in ideal circumstances-” Tyler said as he slowly pulled off his shirt, leaving him in just his shorts, “-we’d have some low music playing in the background-”

He lowered himself into Josh’s lap, straddling him.

"-I’d have danced for you-” he said against Josh’s lips as he gripped the back of the chair, bracing himself before beginning to grind his hips in slow and sensual circles.

“-I’d have driven you crazy before we even began-” he murmured, catching Josh’s lower lip between his teeth when his mouth fell open in breathless awe. Tyler’s free hand slid across Josh’s bare chest, teasing as it moved.

“-had you a shaking, quivering mess… begging me to finally touch you.”

His palm drifted lower and pressed over the hard line of Josh’s cock, making him shudder.

“Jesus… Tyler,” Josh gasped, eyes fluttering shut as his head dropped back with a quiet moan. He was already so worked up, and Tyler had barely started.

“Yeah,” Tyler whispered against his throat, then pressed a filthy, open-mouthed kiss just behind Josh’s ear.

He kept grinding slowly in Josh’s lap, their hard cocks brushing through fabric, pressure building with every shift of Tyler’s hips. He pulled away from Josh’s neck, peppering kisses down across his chest, pausing to teasingly lick at his nipples before sliding off his lap and dropping to his knees in the process.

“But,” Tyler added, breath a little uneven now, “we’re not in ideal circumstances.”

He reached the waistband of Josh’s boxers, then looked up at him one last time, eyes dark, steady.

“So you’ll just have to make do with this.”

With both hands, he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband and pulled them down, and off, with a little help from Josh.

He stripped off his shorts next, completely bare underneath, and remained on his knees between Josh’s legs.

Then, without warning, he leaned in and took Josh into his mouth.

Josh let out a startled whimper, jolting at the sudden heat and wetness. Tyler didn’t ease in... he took him deep from the start, lips slick and hungry, saliva already dripping down Josh’s length as he hollowed his cheeks and moaned around him like he meant it.

Josh’s fingers gripped the edges of the chair, white-knuckled. He stared down in disbelief, watching Tyler’s mouth stretch around his cock, the wet shine on his lips, the way his jaw flexed with every movement. His thighs trembled. He was already falling apart.

Tyler pulled back just enough to spit over him, then took him again, messy and downright obscene. His hand worked the base, coating him with spit, pumping in rhythm with the bob of his head. And when Tyler moaned again, like he liked the taste of him, Josh nearly lost it.

“Holy shit... Tyler-” he choked out, one hand flying to his own chest like he could steady his own heartbeat, slow it down.

After a few dizzying minutes, Tyler pulled off with a soft pop, and his mouth was replaced by something cooler, but just as slick. Josh realized with a shudder that Tyler must have lubed his fingers somewhere in the chaos, and now he was spreading it over Josh’s cock, coating him slowly, thoroughly.

“Fuck... you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” Josh groaned, just as Tyler stood and straddled him again.

Josh’s hands immediately found Tyler’s hips, gripping tight and pulling him close. Tyler leaned in for another quick, biting kiss, then murmured against his lips, voice low and dark.

“Oh, darling... just wait for what I am about to do to you.”

And before Josh could even process the words, Tyler lifted slightly, one hand sliding behind himself. Josh felt the pressure as he was lined up, and just like that, Tyler was sinking down onto him.

“Holy shi- Ty…” Josh moaned, overwhelmed by the sudden sensation. “Fuck… you- how-” Surely it had to hurt, taking him in raw like that.

“Hmmm... I prepped myself for you earlier,” Tyler panted, struggling to catch his breath as he took him in deeper, inch by inch. “Couldn’t wait to ride you. Fuck.”

Tyler let out a low, broken sound as he bottomed out, settling fully in Josh’s lap. His hands slid up Josh’s chest again, resting against his shoulders for balance, his body already trembling with restraint.

Josh’s mouth hung open, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “Jesus… you feel- fuck-” He could barely form words, couldn’t think past the tight, burning heat wrapped around him.

Tyler rolled his hips once, slow and deliberate. Josh choked on a moan.

“Yeah?” Tyler rasped, voice wrecked with arousal. “That good for you, pretty boy?”

Josh could only nod, jaw clenched as he tried, and failed, to hold still.

“God, look at you,” Tyler muttered, starting to move again, setting a rhythm that was slow but devastating, grinding down with every motion, angling just right. “Already losing it. We’re just getting started.”

Josh’s hands clutched at Tyler’s hips, unsure whether he wanted to pull him closer or slow him down. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched like this - wanted like this.

“Fuck- Tyler- I’m not gonna- ” His voice broke as Tyler rocked down harder.

“You will.” Tyler’s hand slipped behind Josh’s neck, pulling him into a kiss that was all teeth and heat. “You’ll last as long as I tell you.”

Josh whimpered into his mouth, the sound desperate and low, hips jerking up instinctively. Every muscle in his body flexed with restraint, trembling with the effort of holding himself back, of not spilling right then and there.

Tyler picked up the pace, riding him faster now, skin slapping against skin, the sound indecent and raw in the silence of the shack. Josh was unraveling beneath him, head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut, every muscle pulled tight like a wire ready to snap.

And Tyler was gone too. Lost in the rhythm, in the stretch and drag and fullness of it all. His hips snapped down with unrestrained urgency, chasing the heat building in his own gut.

The old wooden chair beneath them began to creak violently, threatening to give out beneath their weight.

Josh let out a breathless, half-laugh, half-moan. “Ty- fuck... We’re gonna break it-”

Tyler barely heard him. “I don’t care,” he growled, slamming down harder. “Let it break...”

The chair groaned louder beneath them, threatening to give way with every wild thrust, but Tyler was too far gone, desperation in every movement. He was lost in the overwhelming heat building inside him, in the way Josh filled him just right, in the tight coil of pleasure pulling him closer to the edge.

“Tyler- Jesus-” Josh’s voice cracked as Tyler bounced in his lap, relentless now, every drag and thrust sending electric heat up his spine.

“You’re so deep... fuck... you’re so fucking good,” Josh gasped, his voice hoarse.

Tyler’s rhythm stuttered, his own breath catching. “Yeah? Then come for me.”

That broke him.

Josh’s whole body tensed as he came hard, hips jerking, moaning loud enough to echo off the shack’s walls. Tyler kept moving through it, dragging it out, milking every last pulse of it until Josh slumped in the chair, boneless and wrecked, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Tyler was still shaking, his hands gripping Josh’s shoulders for balance as he chased his own high. “Fuck.. fuck.. Josh..” he gasped before burying his face in Josh’s neck and grinding down with a desperate cry as he came, his body trembling against Josh’s.

For a moment, all that remained was the sound of their panting, harsh and tangled in the dark.

Tyler’s body was heavy and limp in his lap, his skin flushed and damp, his breath stuttering against Josh’s collarbone. Josh stroked slow circles into his lower back, one hand slipping up to card gently through the damp strands of hair at his nape.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, lips brushing Tyler’s temple.

Tyler didn’t answer at first. Just breathed. Shuddered. Slowly came back to himself.

Then he shifted, tried to push off Josh’s lap, but Josh held him.

“Wait,” Josh murmured, arms tightening just slightly. “Just… stay a second.”

Tyler stilled. Not giving in, but not pulling away either.

Josh exhaled, pressing his lips to Tyler’s shoulder. “You don’t have to run. Everyone’s busy with their thing.”

He felt the tension in Tyler’s spine, the way his breath caught and then stalled, held tight in his chest. Tyler didn’t relax. He didn’t melt into the touch. He didn’t say anything at all.

Then, finally, a whisper, too quiet, too practiced.

“But... the curfew.”

Josh blinked. “Tyler, the curfew isn't for another half hour.”

Silence.

Tyler didn’t move. Didn’t soften. Still sitting there like he was waiting for a reason to bolt.

Josh let out a quiet, tired sigh. “You’re doing it again.”

Tyler flinched like he’d been struck.

Josh’s voice didn’t rise, it dropped, steady and low. “You’re still doing it... You’re pushing me away.”

Tyler had promised he wouldn’t. Promised he’d stop shutting Josh out, stop hurting him like this. But not once, not with everything they’d done, had he given Josh space to get closer. The intimacy never moved past the physical.

Tyler’s hands clenched faintly against Josh’s skin. He didn’t try to argue. Didn’t lie.

His mouth opened, then closed. “I-” he breathed, like the start of something real. “-sorry.”

That was all he gave.

Josh swallowed hard and let him go. They got up and dressed in silence, the air between them stripped of heat, replaced by something colder. Quieter. Distant.

Tyler didn’t look at him as they stepped outside into the cool night air. Didn’t say a word on the walk back.

Josh didn’t either.

Tyler’s thoughts spun with every step- shame, confusion, a low burn of something he couldn’t name clawing its way up his throat.

Josh walked beside him, quiet but burning. Disappointed, aching, but still not letting go... not yet.

Chapter Text

Confronting other people was easy.

Putting someone back in their place, enforcing rules, laying down boundaries, reminding people of principles. Tyler could do that without flinching. That was easy when it was someone else.

It wasn’t as easy when Tyler realized the person who needed a confrontation was himself.

He knew he needed to get his shit together. He couldn’t keep doing this. He couldn’t keep running or hiding behind a plea for time and space, just to build another wall inside.

The disappointed look on Josh’s face was still lodged in his chest, still haunting him.

The worst part was just how automatic it had all become. The reflex to retreat. The way his gut would flinch at something real and shove it away before his brain even caught up. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it again until Josh said it out loud. And even then, he’d barely known how to respond. He blamed the pressure, the camp schedule, the lack of privacy… like that was all it was.

But it wasn’t. It was him.

He let his unconscious rule the moment, he let it speak for him, sabotage for him. It was so ingrained now it felt like instinct. The worst part was that he didn’t know how to stop it. And that scared the absolute shit out of him.

It was 2 a.m. He woke in the middle of the night, his body deciding, without his permission, that it’d had enough rest. That now was the time to sort out the mess in his head. Feeling like he might suffocate inside his little cabin, Tyler pulled on a hoodie and stepped out for a walk. Which, as it turned out minutes later, was less a walk and more an unconscious drift toward the music room.

To his piano.

He did what he knew best. He covered blank sheets in ink and filled the silence with melody. Let his thoughts spill out, let them echo through the empty room, let them materialize on paper in messy, looping staves. In the middle of the night, when no one was there to listen.

At least, for once, he wasn’t spiraling.

He just... sat with it. Played it. Composed it.

The ache in his chest wasn’t panic. It was something closer to grief. The kind you feel when you start to realize you’re the one who caused the damage, and that you might keep causing it if you don’t pull yourself together.

He rubbed a hand over his face. Let it fall back into his lap. His eyes dropped to the last few lines he’d scribbled down hastily.

"I’m handing you a match, begging you not to light the fire. But you always do - and it never burns me the way I think it will. Still I don’t know how to be held without wondering what it’s going to cost me."

"Ty?" A soft voice broke the silence.

Tyler startled slightly on the bench. The sound of footsteps padded closer across the wooden floor, slow and hesitant.

Jenna stood in the doorway, barefoot in pajama pants and an oversized camp hoodie, her hair a loose braid over one shoulder. She looked half-asleep, blinking at him through the sleepy haze of 2 a.m., but her expression was gentle. Concerned.

He blinked, startled to see her. “Jenna? What are you doing here?”

She rubbed at one eye and smiled faintly. “One of my kids from the night watch came to wake me up. Said there was someone in the music room and they were scared to death we were getting robbed.” She chuckled softly, her voice still raspy from sleep.

“Sorry,” Tyler mumbled, immediately guilty. “I didn’t realize...”

“You’re fine,” she said, stepping inside. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

The quiet between them settled again, but it wasn’t heavy. Not with Jenna. The music room was bathed in soft moonlight through the high windows, the piano catching its silver glow like it belonged to another world entirely.

Tyler looked down at the pages scattered in front of him. Lines of messy lyrics, half-melodies, scribbled chord progressions. His heartbeat had finally slowed, but his chest still felt full, like something was pressing against his ribs from the inside.

Jenna was his person.

The one who’d sat with him when his life came apart. The one who didn’t ask for the whole story but still picked up the pieces. She didn’t fix him, she didn’t try to. She just stayed. With snacks and open ears and the kind of quiet presence that made it possible to breathe again. If there was anyone he could say the hard things to, it was her.

She would be that person now, too.

“I dunno,” he said softly, fingers brushing the edge of the sheet music. “I just-” He paused, searching for the words that felt big and messy and buried. “Just thinking if I’ll ever not… be broken.”

Jenna didn’t rush to fill the silence. She stepped closer, arms crossed gently over her chest, watching him like she already knew what was coming next.

“Is this about Josh?”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah.”

“Tell me what’s going on. Between you two.”

He let out a breath and leaned back from the piano, the bench creaking under his weight.

“We’ve been… fooling around for the past week. More than a week, maybe. And I-” He rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead. “I know Josh wants more. I think I want to give it. I just don’t know how... All I know is how to fuck things up.”

Jenna didn’t flinch. She just moved quietly across the room and sat down beside him on the bench, their knees touching.

“Oh, come on… that’s not true, Ty.” She bumped his shoulder gently. “I know you. I know the loving person that you are. You were just given a rough head-start. You learned survival before you learned softness. That doesn’t mean you’re incapable of love. It just means you’re still figuring out how to navigate it.”

Tyler swallowed, throat tight. “You think that’s what this is? With me and Josh? Love?”

She tilted her head slightly, thinking. “I think the potential is there. I think you think about him more than you admit. But you don’t have to worry about naming it right now. Don’t try to define the whole story all at once. Start with baby steps.”

“I don’t know how, Jen.” His voice cracked slightly. “The fear is suffocating me.”

Jenna turned on the bench, facing him more fully. “Then ask yourself… What’s the worst that could happen, if you open up?”

He didn’t have to think long. “He leaves.”

She nodded. “And if you don’t?”

Tyler’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He leaves.”

Jenna gave a soft, sad smile. She let the silence stretch a little longer, searching for the right words. She knew Tyler better than anyone, and she listened. Not just now, but always. Through every season of their friendship, through every wall he built and every excuse he made. She knew his patterns, his fears, his insecurities.

“I don’t think you’re afraid of Josh walking away. Not really,” she said gently at last. “You’re afraid of what happens if you let him in and it goes wrong. You’re scared of what happens when someone sees too much. Because every time you’ve let yourself be vulnerable before, someone left. Or they stayed, but only on their conditions, their terms… their rules. You learned to believe love always came with strings attached. That it was something people used to pull you apart.”

Tyler froze. His breath caught audibly in his throat.

“You never learned how to stay open when things got messy,” Jenna continued softly. “You got good at keeping people at just enough distance to protect yourself. Even when all you’ve ever wanted is for someone to stay.”

The words hit him like a tidal wave. He stared at her, wide-eyed, stunned silent, the realization settling over him like heavy rain. His lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

Jenna reached out and rested a hand gently on his arm. “But Josh isn’t like that.. y’know?” she added, her voice softer still. "He’s still here, Ty, he’s staying. And I think that's what terrifies you most, because you don’t know what to do with someone who doesn’t walk away.”

The silence that followed wasn’t cold or empty. It was thick with the weight of understanding.

Tyler’s jaw clenched hard, but the tears slipped through anyway. His shoulders trembled once, twice, then sagged. Jenna pulled him into her arms without a word, holding him tight as he broke quietly against her.

He clung to her like a lifeline. They stayed like that for a long time. Just breathing, holding.

Tyler pressed his face into her shoulder, feeling both exposed and safe. After a beat, his voice came out rough but faintly teasing, trying to claw back some of his usual sharpness.

“Since when did you get so wise, woman?”

Jenna chuckled softly, rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades. “Please. I’ve always been wise. You just weren’t ready to listen until now.”

A weak, wet laugh escaped him. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

She pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face. “You don’t have to fix everything at once. Just start a conversation, let him in.”

Tyler let out a shaky breath. “I can do that.”

Jenna smiled, soft and certain. “He’ll want to hear it. Trust me.”

...

Josh noticed it almost immediately.

The next morning, out on the field, before the first workshop even started, before the sun had burned off the dew.

Tyler was... different.

It wasn’t a dramatic change by any means, no. There were no grand gestures, no speeches. But something about him had shifted, and once Josh noticed, his eyes couldn’t stop tracking Tyler across the space like gravity.

Tyler moved quieter today, calm and focused, like he was trying to hold onto some invisible thread of thought he couldn’t afford to lose. He wasn’t bouncing between activities like usual. He wasn’t cracking jokes, wasn’t teasing anyone, he was barely even interacting with the other counselors. It was like he was too busy carrying on some intense conversation with himself to hold one with anyone else.

And then, in the middle of those thoughtful silences, Josh caught him looking.

It wasn’t the casual glance of someone whose gaze just happens to drift across the field. No, these looks were intentional, but different. There was a distance behind them, like Tyler was staring both at him and straight through him at the same time. Fogged over, as if he was seeing Josh through a pane of glass.

It was soft, lingering, like he was working something out in his mind and Josh had become part of the equation.

These weren't the same looks Josh had gotten used to. It wasn't heated, hungry, or teasing. It wasn’t playful or sharp or possessive, like every time they’d snuck away and tangled up in the dark.

This was something else entirely. Something quieter. Something that felt almost dangerous... in a completely different way.

Josh’s chest tightened. His fingers curled reflexively at his sides. He wanted to believe... God, he wanted to believe that this meant something.

But by now, he also knew the pattern. The push, then the pull... and the constant, painful almost. Josh had been burned like this before. It wouldn’t be the first time Tyler had looked at him like that, full of unspoken promises, only to slam the door shut the second things got too close.

So he didn’t react. He didn’t call Tyler out or walk over and press for answers. He did what he always did, what he had promised Tyler he'd do... he gave him space. He decided to trust the process, hoping that if Tyler ever really figured his shit out, he’d come to him when he was ready.

So Josh stayed back, observing, hopeful, but cautious.

...

“Helloooo, earth to Tyler.”

Tyler blinked, snapping out of his daze. He glanced down to find Amy standing there, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her face.

“Oh hey… traitor. What do you want?” he shot back, just a little too slow with the comeback. His brain had been miles away, but he shook it off and let the usual playful edge slide back into his voice.

Amy raised a brow, smug. “Nothing, I was just curious. A rumor got to me…” she leaned in conspiratorially, “that you lost Capture and Rescue last session.”

Tyler groaned immediately, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That must’ve been hilarious,” Amy went on with mock innocence, her grin widening when Tyler visibly flinched. “How did you enjoy being captured?”

“Yeah, yeah… very hilarious,” he muttered, cheeks heating as the memory came rushing back. How he’d been tied to a tree... by Josh, of all people. He remembered the sheer frustration, the humiliation and most of all, that sharp, terrifying realization of how utterly vulnerable he’d felt in that moment. How he felt he'd been seen and how everything between them had started to shift after that.

“Well… you know what day it is todaaay,” Amy sing-songed, jabbing him in the ribs.

Tyler stiffened slightly.

Oh, shit. Yeah… right.

It was that day again. Already? Tyler blinked in genuine disbelief. Where had the first half of the session even gone?

Then it hit him. That he’d probably been too busy sneaking off, hooking up with Josh, tangled in lust and denial, too distracted to notice how fast the days had slipped by in a blur.

“And just so you know, Coach,” Amy teased, dragging out his nickname with extra sass, “my team is planning to win this, so… brace yourself for another loss.” She winked and spun on her heel, sauntering off to join her group.

“Yeah, you wish!” Tyler called after her, shaking his head. But... she had a point. A very good point.

He’d spent the entire first half of the day thinking. About Jenna’s words, about Josh, about how badly he wanted to talk to him. And how every "I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna do it" kept collapsing into "Now’s not the time" whenever there were too many people around to risk being overheard.

But right now? He needed to pull himself together and focus. Because he wasn’t going to let history repeat itself. He was not going to lose this game again.

Good thing his team was in good shape today.

They flew through the tasks and checkpoints with razor-sharp focus, the kids responding to every one of Tyler’s directions like a well-trained squad. They listened to every clue, executed every strategy.

For once, everything clicked. The team actually worked together instead of the usual chaos.

Although, shamefully, Amy had kept her word. Her team really did win the challenge. He half-expected her to come running over and gloat, but thankfully she kept it to just a smug little wave and a grin that said told you so.

Still, Tyler wasn’t even mad this time. Because at least it hadn’t been him.

It was Morgan this time. Barely. Her team had finished only seconds behind Debby’s group.

Debby hadn’t looked great before the game even started. She’d seemed off - tired, drawn, like the heat had already drained the energy out of her before the first whistle blew. But her team had managed to pull through without her at full strength and cross the finish line ahead of Morgan’s.

Tyler spotted Morgan dramatically collapsing onto the grass in mock defeat, flinging an arm over her face while her campers giggled and swarmed around her. “Well, shit,” Morgan muttered with a grin. “Fair game.”

Dave wandered over and offered her a hand up, leading her off to the waiting area. Meanwhile, Jenna and Mark were already gathering Morgan’s group, prepping them with clue packets and instructions so they could head out into the woods for the second-chance rescue round.

The chaos of the field was settling and Tyler felt the adrenaline taper off. The sharp, singular focus of the game started to fade and the weight of everything else came rushing back in to fill the space.

Josh.

This was it. This was his chance. No kids, no counselors crowding. Just enough breathing room to finally pull him aside.

Tyler’s eyes swept the field, searching instinctively for a flash of movement, a loud voice, the familiar burst of energy. But he found nothing. Actually, apart from Jenna and Mark, the field was almost completely empty.

Where the hell had Josh gone?

Not wasting a second, Tyler jogged over to Jenna just as she was about to follow the others into the woods. “Hey, have you seen Josh?” he asked, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

Jenna paused, adjusting her backpack. Her eyes flicked up to his, and something soft, something knowing, curved at the corner of her mouth.

“No, sorry,” she said gently. Then, with a small, encouraging tilt of her head, added, “But… good luck, Ty.”

Tyler blinked, caught off guard by the quiet certainty in her tone. He nodded slowly, the breath catching briefly in his chest before he managed the faintest smile. “Yeah. Thanks.”

And then he turned, eyes already sweeping the trees, the edges of the field, the camp trails beyond. Determination kicked in.

He didn’t know where Josh had disappeared to, but this time, Tyler wasn’t going to let the moment slip away.

...

He found Josh down by the lake.

After cutting through the trees, past a few scattered groups of kids, dodging Amy’s playful shout from across camp, Tyler kept moving. He didn’t let himself get distracted.

Without thinking, he followed the winding trail behind the dining hall, heart kicking hard against his ribs as the familiar shape of Josh’s figure came into view between the trees.

But Josh wasn't alone.

Tyler slowed to a stop, half-hidden by the trees, breath catching hard in his chest. He was still a good distance away… far enough to stay unseen, but close enough to see two figures silhouetted against the water.

One of them leaned into the other, soft lines folding together like they belonged. A slender frame pressed against Josh’s chest. Josh’s hand lifted and gently smoothed down their back, pulling them even closer.

Tyler’s stomach tightened. His pulse thundered in his ears. No… no, no. Please don’t let it be what I think it is.

He blinked against the shifting afternoon light. The breeze shifted, brushing hair away from the smaller figure’s shoulder and the light caught on the familiar length of brown waves.

Debby.

From where Tyler stood, the scene played out in agonizing slow motion.

Josh had his arms wrapped around her, holding her close. One hand rested against the small of her back, the other threaded gently into her hair. He tugged her in closer, his head tilted as he whispered something only she could hear. Then came the kiss. A soft press of his lips into her hair, fleeting but deliberate.

Tyler’s stomach twisted violently. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t look away.

Josh pulled back just far enough to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear, fingers trailing at her temple. Then, without hesitation, he pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, just at her temple, before gently pulling her back into the safety of his arms.

Debby visibly shook. Her whole body seemed to collapse into him, as though her legs couldn’t hold her anymore. Josh let himself be pulled down with her as they sank together onto the worn wood of the dock. Kneeling, sitting, folded sideways… Tyler couldn’t tell. All he saw was Josh holding her close, tucking his face into her hair, arms wrapped around her like a shield.

Tyler’s mouth went dry. The blood drained from his face, his hands curling into fists so tight his nails bit into his palms. His chest hollowed out like something had punched straight through him.

There was no heat in what he was seeing. No urgency, no hunger. But that almost made it worse. It wasn’t their kind of touch, that reckless, messy, physical pull. It was soft, safe... Intimate in a way Tyler didn’t even know how to be.

Jenna’s voice echoed uselessly in his head.. But Josh isn’t like that.. y’know?... He's staying.

Tyler clenched his jaw, nails digging into his palms so hard it hurt.
No. Not anymore.

All the hope he’d let himself believe in that morning, that fragile, reckless thing he’d dared to carry around all day, shattered right there on the shoreline.

Of course Josh would find someone else. Someone who wasn’t afraid to let him in. Someone who could be soft. Someone who wasn’t a walking fucking disaster.

Tyler stepped back slowly, like if he made too much noise the scene might shatter, or confirm itself.

The familiar coldness snapped back into place like armor locking shut. His walls slammed back into place, a sharp and brutal reflex honed by years of disappointment. Of course he’d been stupid enough to believe this time would be different.

Without another glance, Tyler turned and disappeared back into the trees.

The walk back to camp felt longer than it should have. The trees blurred past him, the distant sounds of laughter and running footsteps ringing hollow in his ears. He kept his head down, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders drawn tight like he could somehow fold himself small enough to disappear. He didn’t look back once.

Didn’t want to see more.

Didn’t need to see more proof that he had been right to keep people at a distance all along.

Chapter Text

The rescue game had gone smoothly this time.

Morgan’s group had worked well together, solving every clue, making it back with minutes to spare. Jenna had been proud. Relieved, even.

She walked just ahead of Mark, Dave, and Morgan’s team, her boots crunching along the pine-needle trail. Her mood was lighter than it had been in days.

The whole way back, she’d caught herself thinking about the other half of the camp staff… wondering if Tyler had found Josh, if they’d finally had the conversation that needed to happen.

She smiled faintly to herself. Tyler had grown so much over the years, and especially in the past few weeks. Working up the courage to open up to someone like Josh? That was a big step. And Jenna had always thought that someone patient, steady, and unshakably kind like Josh was exactly what Tyler needed. Maybe things were finally shifting.

But as they crested the last rise and the cabins came into view, Jenna felt a different shift.

Her steps slowed, faltered slightly. A car sat parked awkwardly near the counselor cabins, wheels angled half onto the grass. Nobody ever parked there. It felt wrong somehow, out of place in a camp that usually ran on routine and predictability.

“Is that…?” she said, brow furrowing.

Dave came up beside her, his expression tightening as he followed her gaze. They exchanged a silent, unsettled look, and the knot in Jenna’s stomach pulled tighter.

Then they saw the cabin door swing open.

Josh stepped out carrying a duffel bag. His face was drawn, tired in a way Jenna couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t just exhaustion, it was something heavier, something dragging at him from the inside out. His usual easy posture was replaced with a stiffness in his shoulders as he moved toward the car.

Jenna straightened. “Josh?” she called as they approached, her voice threading with cautious confusion. “What’s going on?”

Josh froze mid-step. He glanced back at her, then toward the others approaching behind her. For a split second, something flickered across his face... uncertainty, conflict, like he wasn’t sure what he was allowed to say.

Wordlessly, he hoisted the bag into the open trunk with a heavy thump. His eyes flicked instinctively back toward the cabin window, then he dragged a hand through his hair and turned back to Jenna with a visible effort to steady himself.

“Uhh... It’s Debby,” he said finally, tone low. “She has to leave. For family stuff.”

Jenna’s chest sank.

Before she could reply, the cabin door opened again. Debby appeared, shoulders hunched, hoodie pulled up like armor. Her eyes were red-rimmed, glassy. She didn’t speak to the group, didn’t even lift her eyes to them, just walked straight over to Dave, who met her quietly by the side of the car.

Jenna’s throat tightened at the sight. This looked serious.

The others stood back, watching awkwardly as Dave put a comforting hand on Debby’s arm and spoke softly to her. Morgan moved to help Josh quietly gather the last of Debby’s things from the porch and load them into the trunk.

Jenna stayed rooted to the spot, feeling her earlier hope dissolve into the warm dust beneath her shoes.

Something was wrong.

Not just with Debby or the timing. There was something heavier threading through the air around them, something she couldn’t name but couldn’t ignore. The whole world felt... off.

She glanced back toward the empty camp trails, toward where she’d pictured Tyler standing at the edge of the field beside Josh - bright-eyed, light on his feet after the conversation that was bound to happen between them. But there was only emptiness. Her stomach twisted again.

The car door shut with a soft, final thud, tearing Jenna from her thoughts. Debby didn’t look up. She gave Dave one last squeeze of his arm, then climbed into the passenger seat next to her mom and pulled the door closed behind her. The engine coughed once, then settled into a low, steady hum.

The counselors stood silently as the car reversed awkwardly across the grass, tires kicking up dust. It crept down the gravel lane past the dining hall, out beyond the trees. Then she was gone.

For a beat, no one moved, the breeze stirred the pine branches, scattering a few lazy needles into the still air. The group shifted uneasily, forming a loose, unorganized circle by instinct more than intention. Everyone looked at each other, no one quite sure who should speak first.

Dave rejoined them, his boots soft on the dirt path. He cleared his throat. His expression stayed calm, but his voice carried the weight of bad news.

“She’s going home to say goodbye,” he said quietly. “Her grandmother passed this morning. Debby knew before breakfast, but she didn’t want to scare the kids. She insisted on finishing her group activities before leaving.”

A soft ripple of shock moved through them.

Morgan let out a quiet, disbelieving breath. “Jeez... she knew the whole day? I noticed she wasn’t herself during the game, but I never would’ve thought…”

Jenna rubbed at her arms, skin prickling despite the warm afternoon. “She didn’t say a word to anyone.”

Mark frowned. “Yeah... I had no idea either.”

Josh shifted, his arms folding tightly over his chest. “She broke down right after the game. After the kids left. I found her near the dock... stayed with her until her mom came.”

Jenna’s gaze flicked sharply to Josh. That small twist of worry pulled even tighter. Of course it was Josh. Of course he stayed.

“God… poor thing,” Morgan murmured, her voice soft and aching. “I wish she’d said something.”

Dave nodded. “That’s Debby. Stubborn in the best and worst ways.” His eyes softened. “She wanted the kids to have fun, even with what was going on. She said she’d be back for the start of the last session.”

The group lapsed into silence again.

Nobody said anything for a long moment.The circle held for just a few more seconds before gradually, awkwardly, the spell broke. The counselors drifted apart, conversations turning back to dinner rotations, kids’ supervision, who needed to cover Debby’s groups temporarily.

Camp business carried on, as it always did. But something still felt off.

Jenna frowned slightly, lingering longer than the others. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. The air still felt too heavy, too unsettled. Like something had shifted sideways and out of view. The tension tugged faintly at the edge of her thoughts. Then her eyes fell on Josh again, walking stiff and distant toward the mess hall. And in that instant, Jenna realized-

Where the hell was Tyler?

A good question. But there was no time to find out.

Dinner prep came first. The kids were already swarming like ants back from a long adventure, loud and hungry and impatient. Jenna fell into autopilot, directing staff, checking rotations, answering a dozen scattered questions about lost water bottles and whose turn it was to set up the salad bar.

But every few minutes, her eyes flicked across the field, scanning the usual spots. The trails, the lake path, the music cabin, the counselors' porch. But nothing... no sign of him.

She pushed the worry down and kept moving.

By the time dinner finally started to settle into its familiar noisy chaos, the mess hall had filled with the chatter and clatter of campers and counselors alike. Jenna grabbed a tray more out of habit than hunger and slid into her usual seat at the corner of the long table.

She barely got one bite in before Josh appeared at her side.

“Hey.” His voice was low, uncertain. “Do you know where Tyler is?”

Jenna froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. “No… I was hoping you would know.” She set the fork down slowly. “You guys didn’t talk?”

Her gut tightened. This was weird - too weird.

Tyler never disappeared without telling someone. He thrived on structure, on predictability, on control. She could understand if the talk hadn’t happened yet, after what Debby had gone through today, it made sense. But for Tyler to not show up for dinner? To fall off the radar completely? That wasn’t him.

Josh frowned, visibly confused. “No... I haven’t seen him since the game.”

Jenna’s brows pulled together, the easy warmth draining from her expression, replaced by sharp, unsettled concern.

“He was looking for you,” she said slowly. “Right before I left for the rescue round. I think he wanted to talk... I figured you two caught up afterward.”

They locked eyes for a long, silent beat. Jenna’s expression tightened. Josh swore he could see the exact moment she pieced together that something wasn’t right.

Josh hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek as his thoughts scrambled. Should he wait? Should he give Tyler space like he always promised? Or should he go look for him?

Jenna’s face gave him the answer. The silent alarm in her eyes was enough. Josh’s hand curled against the wood of the bench. His voice dropped, sharp with sudden urgency.

“I’m gonna go check his cabin.”

Jenna nodded tightly, already half-rising from her seat. “Let me know,” she called after him, but Josh was already weaving through the crowded hall toward the exit.

***

Josh walked briskly across the darkening field toward the counselor cabins, cutting across patches of grass and gravel without even thinking about the usual paths. His nerves prickled, equal parts worry and confusion twisting together in his chest.

Jenna’s words looped in his head.

You guys didn't talk? He was looking for you earlier…

Did Tyler really want to talk to him? About what?

Josh’s stomach twisted. Was it about them? About what had been simmering between them all summer? Was Tyler about to finally, finally, say something real?

His mind raced back to the way Tyler had looked at him that morning. Those glances that weren’t heat or hunger or teasing, but something softer. Almost searching, like he was trying to work something out in his head. Like he wanted to reach out and didn’t know how.

Josh’s gut tightened, something was coming, he felt it in his bones. It had to give eventually. He just didn't know what it was.

And there was also this thing that wouldn’t sit right with him...

If Tyler really wanted to talk, why disappear? Why didn't he just grab him after the game? Josh’s chest tightened with a strange, restless weight. It wasn’t dread exactly, or hope either. More like a heavy, prickling hunch that something was off.

Josh clenched his jaw, pushing the questions aside as he stepped up onto Tyler’s porch. The familiar weight of dread coiled tighter in his gut. He raised his hand and knocked, firm and quick.

Nothing.

He tried again. “Ty?”

Still nothing.

Josh let out a soft breath through his nose, tried a third time, then hesitated just a second longer before curling his fingers around the doorknob. It wasn’t locked. He pushed it open just enough to peer inside.

The room was dim, the only light a faint gold sliver bleeding in through the half-closed curtains. The air felt thick, stale, like someone had locked the world out hours ago and forgotten how to breathe inside it.

Tyler’s uke was propped hastily against the corner, not in its usual rack. A crumpled hoodie lay discarded over the chair back. Shoes were kicked halfway under the bed like they’d been yanked off mid-motion. Papers, notebooks, and loose sheet music littered the small desk and spilled onto the floor.

The chaos felt too raw to be careless. It looked like the wreckage of someone trying and failing to hold it together.

Josh swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. The stillness pressed down hard around him, heavy and uneven. The atmosphere felt abandoned, almost like the room itself was holding its breath.

And then his eyes fell on the bed.

There, in the far corner, Tyler sat slouched low, back pressed against the wall, legs drawn loosely up, arms hanging limp across his knees. A pair of headphones sat crooked over one ear, the other side pushed back slightly, forgotten. His gaze wasn’t focused on anything, just staring blankly across the cabin at the far wall. His expression was hollow, distant.

Josh’s chest clenched painfully.

“Ty?” he tried again, softer this time. “Are you okay?”

Tyler blinked, his head turning just a fraction, as if he just registered the presence at the door. His eyes met Josh’s for a split second, unreadable, before he turned away again and dropped his gaze back to the floor.

Josh’s voice had landed softer than Tyler expected, warm with concern and worry, completely unprepared for the cold wall that met him back.

That soft concern nearly undid him.

God, why did Josh have to sound like that? Like he still cared, like Tyler hadn’t already lost him hours ago. Tyler didn’t even know what he’d expected to hear. Frustration maybe, something sharp that would’ve matched the wreckage clawing through his own chest. Some kind of confirmation that he deserved to feel this miserable.

But this soft, gentle version of Josh only made the ache worse.

His stomach twisted. His palms itched with restless tension. The image was back in his mind again, vivid as ever. The way Josh had held Debby, touched her hair, kissed her temple like it meant something. Tyler scoffed quietly under his breath and shook his head, dragging his gaze further away from the boy standing frozen in his doorway.

He barely heard Josh step further into the cabin, voice still low but edged with real confusion this time.

“Tyler…” Josh’s tone softened even more, almost pleading. “What’s going on? Jenna said you were looking for me earlier.”

Tyler let out a soft, humorless hum. Barely a sound, let alone an answer.

Josh frowned.

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way Tyler was retreating into himself, drawing up cold walls around him like armor. It felt like talking to steel, every word Josh offered was met with silence so solid it nearly bounced back at him. Tyler had always been guarded, but this was different.

His brows knit in the faint glow from the window as he stepped further into the room, gaze flicking over Tyler’s withdrawn form. His voice stayed careful, but there was an unmistakable urgency underneath.

“Why… did you wanna talk?” Josh asked.

At that, Tyler let out a sharp, bitter breath. Almost a laugh, but too dry and too jagged to be called one.

The words Josh didn’t know he’d been rehearsing all day twisted cruelly in Tyler’s mind now. What he had wanted to say earlier. What he had built up the courage for. It all felt so unbearably stupid now. The thought of sitting Josh down, telling him he wanted to try, that he wanted to choose him, had wanted to let him in... Pathetic.

Josh shifted slightly at the silence, mistaking it for hesitation. Or maybe a yes.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked, his tone quieter now, tilting with concern. “Ty... what… what’s going on?”

Tyler still didn’t move, he didn’t even lift his gaze. He stared at the scuffed floorboard by the bed frame, teeth biting the inside of his cheek like he could physically stop the words building in his throat.

“Didn’t wanna interrupt your moment with Debby,” he said finally, his voice raw, flat and scraped raw around the edges.

He didn't sound angry, or cold. Just... hollow, detached. Like someone speaking through thick glass from very, very far away.

Josh blinked. His entire body stiffened as if he’d been slapped.

“What?”

Tyler finally dragged his gaze up. It was so cold, so distant... So unlike the man who had looked at Josh across the field that morning with something softer, something hopeful.

“Oh please,” Tyler sneered quietly, bitter to the bone. “Don’t act like you don’t know. I saw you two down by the lake…”

Josh just stared, mouth parting slightly, chest tightening as the pieces slammed into place. His stomach dropped under the weight of sudden understanding.

Tyler must’ve seen them. Seen Josh holding Debby up, comforting her the only way he knew how. Seen Debby collapsing against him after the news, after holding herself together for the kids all day. Seen the closeness.

And mistaken it for something it wasn't.

“Jesus, Tyler…” he groaned under his breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. His voice was still low, but it cracked at the edges, exasperation threading in.

“You don’t know what you saw-"

He dropped his hand to his side, taking a tense step forward, watching helplessly as his words slid right past Tyler, unnoticed. Like he hadn’t heard him at all.

Tyler sat frozen, rigid and unreachable, locked inside whatever spiral had already swallowed him whole.

Josh’s shoulders sagged before straightening again, frustration and disbelief crashing together in his chest.

“Wait... are you actually jealous?”

The word hung heavy between them.

Josh stared at him in stunned disbelief, frustration boiling fast beneath the surface. The weight of the day pressed harder against his chest. Debby’s heartbreak, Jenna’s worry, his own nerves trying so hard to give Tyler space and time and patience.

And now, on top of everything, he gets this?

Something inside him snapped loose. His usual kindness, the patience, the careful restraint, it was all gone in a rush of exhaustion and piled up feelings.

He huffed out a disbelieving breath. “I- what the fuck are you even jealous of, Tyler? I don’t understand you.” His voice rose, hurt leaking in despite himself. “You’re the one who's been pushing me away this whole time. You froze me out, you pulled back. You shut me down every damn time I tried. And now you're acting like I’m the one hurting you?”

Tyler flinched. His nails dug into his palms, his pulse roared in his ears. And still, he refused to look directly at Josh. The dam cracked, low and bitter.

“Yeah…” Tyler whispered tightly. “You’re right... This is all my fault.”

Josh froze, stunned. His breath hitched, lips parting slightly as he stared. Was this real? Was Tyler actually having a moment of reflection? For one sharp second, hope flared painfully in his chest. Maybe this was the breakthrough, the conversation they’d been circling around for weeks.

But then Tyler kept going.

The next words hit like stones.

“I wish I never gave you the chance to do that.”

Josh stiffened, confusion twisting sharply in his gut. The chance to what? To hurt him? To get close? Was Tyler really sitting here twisting everything into that?

Josh blinked. “I… what?”

Tyler’s voice stayed sharp and hard, the cold edge of finality cutting through. “I wish I never let you close.” His jaw clenched. His eyes stayed locked on the worn corner of the room, anywhere but Josh. “I wish I never kissed you. I wish I didn’t know you.”

Silence.

The words sliced clean through him.

Josh stood frozen, unable to breathe for a second. His chest caved in, like the air had been punched straight out of his lungs. The world tilted, unsteady and wrong, as if the floor had shifted beneath his feet. The ache bloomed sharp and fast behind his ribs, radiating outward, twisting violently in his chest.

Not enough. You were never enough.

The old voice, the one he’d spent years silencing, came roaring back with cruel familiarity. And for the first time since Tyler and him had started whatever the hell this messy, beautiful thing between them was, Josh felt himself crumble.

Because he’d healed those insecurities. He’d fought so fucking hard to believe he was worthy, that he was lovable, that he didn’t have to beg for scraps of affection.

But right now, Tyler was doing a damn good job of tearing all those scars open.

And Josh realized, with a hollow drop of his stomach, that for the first time... he felt like he couldn’t do this. Not like this.

Josh staggered back a step, as if the words had physically hit him.

“I… wow.” His voice was raw, hollow. A stunned breath escaped his lips. “Wow… okay, Tyler.”

No yelling. No pleading. Just soft devastation. The disappointment in his tone was sharper, colder, and more final than any scream would’ve been.

With nothing left to say, he gave Tyler one last long, unreadable look. Then, without another word, he slowly turned and walked out.

The door clicked shut behind him with a soft, aching finality.

Tyler sat frozen, staring at the place where Josh had stood just seconds earlier. His breathing came shallow and sharp, chest caving inward like the air had been punched out of him.

The silence in the room was suffocating.

He knew those last words had been brutal. Knew it the second they left his mouth. They weren’t even true. Not after the way he had looked at Josh across the field that morning, like maybe, for once, he could finally stop running. Like meeting Josh had been the first good, unexpected thing to happen to him in a long time.

But this was his pattern. His fucked up, instinctive coping mechanism. Push them away before they can walk away first. Control the crash, make the hurt yours before anyone else can hand it to you.

It was safer that way. Safer for him, safer for Josh, too, he told himself bitterly.

It didn't matter now anyway. The damage was done.

Slowly, like something brittle breaking apart, he curled forward, elbows dropping to his knees as his head fell into shaking hands. His fingers clawed at his scalp, pulling hard enough to sting, as if pain could somehow drown out the spinning storm inside him.

His face scrunched up in raw, silent anguish, and then, against his will, the tears came slipping hot and relentless down his cheeks.

Josh’s voice still lingered, raw and wounded, playing back in twisted fragments. “Wow… okay, Tyler.”

Tyler squeezed his eyes shut tight, but that only made the tears break loose faster. His jaw locked as he fought down the sob clawing its way up his throat. The dam burst anyway.

A raw, strangled sound tore out of him, half-growl, half-sob. He curled tighter into himself, pulling his knees close like he could somehow vanish into the thin, lumpy mattress and disappear. His body rocked slightly with the weight of it all, breath hitching and catching with every jagged inhale.

The thoughts spiraled fast, too fast, swallowing him whole.

He had finally done it - said the one thing that could never be taken back.

He pushed Josh away for good.

Chapter Text

Jenna was furious...

She’d been working nonstop for the past two hours, rescheduling Debby’s groups, reorganizing... well, everything, after her sudden departure. She’d barely stepped foot into the house after dinner when Dave was already on her, demanding answers, pushing for all the changes to be finalized before the counselor meeting tonight.

So Jenna worked, relentlessly, until she got it done. And all the while, her thoughts kept circling, still worrying about Tyler and where he disappeared.

Josh never made it back from Tyler’s cabin, never found her after dinner, never told her what was going on, or even if he’d found him at all.

Jenna had assumed that he had. That maybe they were finally holed up somewhere, talking about whatever had been hanging between them for weeks now, finally figuring their shit out. So she hadn’t pushed it. Instead, she threw herself into logistics, buried her worry beneath checklists and rotas, until it slowly curdled into silent frustration.

And so yeah, when she finally got it all done... mere minutes before the meeting... when she shoved open the common room door with her hip, arms full of papers, clipboards, and half-scribbled workshop lists, when she dropped them in a heavy pile on the meeting table and glanced up to take attendance, only to be met with something unsettling?

That’s when the frustration turned to anger.

Because everyone was there.

Except for Tyler.

Again.

Josh sat hunched in the far corner, elbows on knees, staring at the scuffed floor like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. He didn’t so much as glance up when she entered.

Jenna’s pulse ticked sharply upward. He’d basically run out of the mess hall earlier, to find Tyler, to make sure he was okay, or to figure out what the hell was going on. But now, Josh just sat here, silent and withdrawn, and Tyler was still gone.

She wanted to storm across the room and demand answers, but that would mean squeezing through an entire row of staff. And crossing in front of everyone would probably take longer than walking to Tyler’s cabin. And making a loud scene right now wasn’t an option. Not with everything else already going on.

So she made a split second decision, and before Dave even started calling the meeting to order, she spun on her heel and stalked out of the room.

***

She marched across the darkening field, frustration driving her forward. It wasn’t even worry anymore, it was anger. Tyler’s sudden irresponsibility, his complete disappearance, his failure to show up when they were already stretched thin. How dare he?... Where did he get off pulling this crap now?

Jenna’s boots crunched harder against the gravel.

She barely bothered knocking when she reached Tyler’s porch. “Tyler! Are you in there?” she snapped, already reaching for the handle. “I’m coming in.”

The door creaked open under her hand.

Tyler was there, slumped sideways on the narrow mattress, facing the wall. His legs were curled part way toward his chest, hoodie half-zipped, twisted awkwardly over a wrinkled shirt. The sheets beneath him were tangled and messy, kicked loose and half-hanging off the bed. His shoulders were sharp and drawn in, curled like a barrier around himself. His hair stuck up in every direction, like he’d spent hours dragging his hands through it.

He didn’t even look up.

Jenna froze in the doorway. Her frustration faltered, her sharp retort caught in her throat.

“Are you sick?” she asked, voice stiff but lower now.

Tyler gave the smallest shake of his head. Barely a movement, barely a denial. But the truth was murkier, because in a way, he did feel sick, just not the kind you could measure with a thermometer.

“Then what are you still doing here? The counselor meeting started five minutes ago.”

No response.

Her spine straightened, hands tensing at her sides. “Tyler,” she snapped, sharper now. “I swear to God-”

“Please leave...”

The words were so soft, so hollow, it stunned her into momentary silence. The anger bled out of her all at once. It was like looking at someone cracked open from the inside out. Jenna took an unsteady breath and shifted her weight. Her eyes flicked over the cabin for the first time.

It wasn’t just messy, it looked like a collapse. But she didn't have the time to analyze it.

She closed her eyes briefly, then tried again, softer this time. “Tyler we need you there.”

Tyler exhaled a bitter, broken sound. “Surely you can survive with one counselor down tonight.”

Jenna stiffened. The words hit her strangely, lodged somewhere in her chest with a confused flicker of alarm. What the hell was he talking about? Didn't he know...?

“What do you mean... we already are down one counselor, Tyler.”

That finally seemed to pierce the fog. Tyler’s head snapped up a fraction, his eyes blinking fast, suddenly sharp with something close to panic. He turned toward her, slow and tight like his muscles didn’t want to cooperate.

“What?”

Tyler blinked, disoriented, breath catching as his thoughts scrambled. Josh? Did Josh leave? Did- the things Tyler said... did they hurt him so bad he left the camp?

Jenna frowned. She didn’t notice the way his entire frame had gone taut, how his fists clenched against the sheets like he was bracing for impact. She kept going, she didn’t have time to soften the blow

“Have you been asleep all afternoon or what?”

That finally stirred something in Tyler, he turned his head slowly, shoulders stiff, and finally looked at her.

Jenna’s breath hitched. Whatever lingering irritation she’d been holding onto vanished in an instant. He looked awful. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks blotchy, his hair a chaotic mess and his expression wasn’t guarded, it was vacant. Like someone who’d been gutted and left half-aware of it.

And watching the panicked confusion spread across his face, she realized... he genuinely didn’t know.

Jenna’s voice softened slightly, though she didn’t dance around the facts. “Debby had to leave. Her grandmother passed away this morning.” She hesitated, watching his reaction. “Dave’s been covering her kids all afternoon. She’s going to be gone for the rest of the session.”

Tyler just stared at her blankly, stunned and disoriented. The words felt like they were reaching him from underwater.

Debby had left? Debby’s family? Not Josh?

His stomach turned. The floor under him might as well have cracked open.

Suddenly, the memory of Josh’s voice slammed back into him like a punch.

“You don’t know what you saw.”

The memory twisted in his chest. The dock, their embrace, that soft kiss to Debby's hair, Josh's gentle hands on her back... calming, soothing, comforting her.

Not intimate, not romantic, just... human.

The realization crashed through him with a sickening jolt, like his brain finally let the puzzle click into place. It hadn’t been a betrayal, it had been support, care and grief. And Tyler had twisted it into something completely else. He’d taken a single moment and poisoned it with every fear he hadn’t yet outgrown.

It suddenly dawned on him... What the hell has he done?

He’d shoved Josh away with words he could never take back. Because of a story he made up in his head. Because of his own damage.

His mouth parted, jaw trembling slightly. The weight of it hit all at once. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, all he could see was Josh’s face when he left.

But he didn’t get to spiral any further, because Jenna’s voice broke through the crashing static in his skull, cutting clean through the rising flood.

“Jesus, Ty.” Jenna raked a hand through her hair, voice softening despite herself. “I don’t know what’s going on, but we don’t have the luxury to unpack it right now. We need to redistribute Debby’s groups before the morning. Dave is already overloaded, we need all hands on deck.”

Tyler squeezed his eyes shut, breathing sharp and uneven as he tried to wrestle his spiraling panic back under control. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs.

Jenna kept going, her tone gentler now, but firm. “Get yourself together. I need you. The kids need you. You can fall apart later.”

The words were sharper than she wanted them to be, her chest ached at the state he was in, how small and shattered he looked, but there wasn’t time to hold him through it. Not now.

Tyler blinked once, then again... The command jolted something inside him. He shifted stiffly upright, brushing the heel of his hand across his face as if wiping away the evidence. His stomach clenched, adrenaline kicking in just enough to make him functional.

"... Yeah.” His voice was rough, hoarse. “Yeah, okay. Just… gimme a second.”

Jenna gave him one more long look, her frustration hadn’t disappeared, but the compassion underneath it had taken the wheel. She gave a small nod.

“We’ll talk later.”

She left the door slightly ajar behind her as she stepped out on the porch.

...

Earlier, Josh had walked to the counselor meeting like he always did, on time, composed and collected. No one gave him a second glance as he quietly slipped into the farthest corner of the room and sat down, face unreadable, eyes fixed straight ahead. He tried to keep his expression neutral, and judging by the lack of attention, it worked.

Everyone was too busy worrying about Debby to notice anything else. No one knew what had happened between him and Tyler. And he preferred it that way.

In truth, though, he was far from okay.

But that didn’t mean he could afford to fall apart. Not here. He wasn’t about to let his own personal trainwreck disrupt the rhythm of the camp.

Still, when he’d first stepped into the common room and scanned the circle of chairs, his heart had clenched in a way that wasn’t entirely unfamiliar.

Tyler wasn’t there.

And in that tiny moment, Josh felt both relief and a pang of worry. Tyler not being there meant he could breathe a little easier, but it also meant Tyler was probably still spiraling, still shut down in whatever corner of his mind he'd crawled into. But Josh forced himself not to overthink it. Not to analyze Tyler’s absence or his own reaction to it.

He tried to breathe past the storm gathering in his chest.

When Jenna entered a moment later, with and exhausted sigh and arms loaded with paperwork, Josh didn’t look up. He couldn’t... If he met her eyes, she’d see, she’d ask, and he wasn’t ready for questions.

He heard her footsteps pause, he felt the weight of her gaze sweep across the room and settle on him, but he kept his eyes trained on the floor, feigning obliviousness.

And when she spun on her heel and pushed back out the door without a word, Josh didn’t need to guess where she was going.

Dave cast a confused glance toward the door, the stress evident in the crease of his brow. Still, he cleared his throat and told the room the meeting would be delayed slightly, something about Jenna needing to double-check a few assignments.

No one questioned it.

But while the others chatted quietly, Josh just... sat. And his thoughts turned back to that cabin.

To Tyler’s hollow voice, his blank eyes. To the words that had carved straight through him.

“I wish I never kissed you. I wish I didn’t know you.”

It didn’t even matter that, deep down, Josh knew Tyler hadn’t really meant them, that they were a reflex, a trauma response dressed up as cruelty. Josh knew the difference.

He knew Tyler had misread a moment between him and Debby, he'd seen it from just the wrong angle, just far enough away to mistake comfort for intimacy. He knew Tyler had probably panicked, felt hurt and that he'd lashed out only to push Josh away before Josh could do it to him.

But the thing about kindness and patience, the thing about love, was that it left you open... vulnerable.

And Josh had been through his own kind of hurt. Life hadn’t always treated him kindly, and it shaped him into someone who built himself on softness, compassion, on understanding people even when they couldn’t understand themselves.

But right now, that same softness was the thing cutting him open. Because even if Tyler hadn’t meant it, Josh had heard it.

And it hurt. It hurt more than he was ready for.

It cracked something old and tender and almost healed inside him. Old beliefs came crawling back... That he wasn’t worth holding onto, that he wasn't tall enough, thin enough, built enough, that he wasn't good enough.

He knew those voices weren’t true and he knew they didn’t belong to this moment, but pain didn’t care about timelines.

So yeah, Josh was closing off. Not out of spite or to punish. Just to survive...

So when Jenna finally came back into the room, with Tyler close in tow, Josh didn’t look up.

It was safer that way, because if he looked, if their eyes met, he didn’t know what would happen. He didn’t know if he’d shatter, or if Tyler would. He just knew he wasn’t ready to find out.

So he kept his gaze fixed on the floor. Let the voices blur and wash over him. Let the conversation shift into logistics and group assignments and who would take what. And when Dave asked for volunteers to pick up Debby’s workshops, Josh raised his hand.

Again, again... and again.

Any spare slot, any extra task, any chore that needed filling. He signed up for all of it, because if he wanted to make it through the next few days, he was going to need every last distraction to keep himself moving. To keep his thoughts occupied and stay out of the places inside himself that still felt too raw.

Because if he stopped moving, he’d have to feel it all.

...

Tyler sat in the common room like a ghost in his own body.

He was technically there, physically present, seated in one of the folding chairs along the long meeting table, just a few spots down from the others. But his eyes were glassy and unfocused. He didn’t blink much, he didn’t move at all.

His hands were buried deep in his hoodie pockets, knuckles pressing hard against the fabric as if anchoring him to the moment. His shoulders stayed rigid, spine bolt-straight, jaw clenched tight like it had been wired shut.

His face betrayed nothing.

From a distance, he probably looked like he was just listening, focused. A little stiff, maybe, but still paying attention. But anyone who really looked, anyone who knew him, would see something different.

He looked like someone holding a grenade under the table with the pin already pulled. Like one wrong move, one wrong look, one wrong breath… might be the end of him.

The air in the room was warm from too many bodies and not enough airflow, and the soft hum of voices buzzed against his ears like static. He barely registered the beginning of the meeting, just that Dave was talking and the clipboard was being passed around for duty assignments.

Tyler didn’t really hear much, or see much. His brain had tuned everything down, except for one thing.

Josh.

He was right there, sitting not even five chairs away. Hunched forward, arms resting on his knees, his usual easy posture replaced by something… shut off.

Tyler kept flicking his eyes on him like it was involuntary. Not openly or directly, but every time Josh moved, Tyler’s gaze shifted. He watched the way Josh sat forward like it was in slow motion. The way his elbows dug into his thighs. The way his hands knotted loosely together, like he was physically holding himself back from something.

But Josh didn't look up once.

Not even when Jenna spoke across the room. Not when Dave asked who could step in to take Debby’s Thursday rotation.

Even when Josh raised his own hand, his eyes stayed pinned straight ahead.

Tyler’s breath caught.

Josh’s hand lifted again a few moments later - for Friday duties this time. Then again, for kitchen assistance.

Tyler didn’t speak, he possibly couldn’t. He didn’t even shift in his seat, like movement might shatter the fragile illusion that he was fine. He just sat there, frozen in place, stomach coiling tighter every time Josh volunteered for something else.

Because every raised hand from Josh felt like a silent declaration... That he was fine, that he didn’t need Tyler, that he was moving on. That the door had shut, and now he was filling every space that wasn’t Tyler with something, anything else.

Tyler kept staring at the table. He felt like a cracked window, spiderweb fractures spreading beneath the surface, quietly, steadily, waiting for the next gust of wind to shatter completely.

He felt a strong urge to say something. To reach across the table and beg for forgiveness.. but the weight of the damage held him down like gravity.

So instead, he just… sat. His breathing shallow, heartbeat thudding like a hammer in his ears. Jenna kept glancing his way, like she was checking if he was still holding together, like she was bracing for a potential storm.

But her words echoed in his head, tight and steady.. "Get yourself together. You can fall apart later."

So that’s what he did. He held...

Held through the whole meeting. Sat still, kept quiet, didn’t breathe too hard or shift too much. He tried so hard that he barely noticed when Dave said they were done, or when people started flowing out of the room. He barely noticed the shared look between Dave and Jenna when they were the only three left.

He barely even noticed Jenna’s soft “Come on,” or the gentle tug at the fabric of his hoodie.

He followed her on autopilot, walked beside her across the field, back toward the director’s house.

She didn’t ask questions, didn’t make small talk, but her gut told her not to send him back to his cabin. Not tonight.

Inside, she gently shut the door behind them and clicked on a small lamp in the kitchen. The warm light hit the wood-paneled walls like a hush. Dave passed through a moment later, disappearing into his office without a word, and Tyler just stood awkwardly near the entrance, like a guest who didn’t know if he was even welcome.

Jenna’s tone was calm, trying to meet him halfway. “You want tea?”

He shook his head.

She gave a faint nod, no judgment in her expression. “Alright.”

She stepped a little closer and studied him quietly, trying to be soft but not hovering. There was no need to ask what this was about, she could read it all over him.

Something had gone down between him and Josh. She just didn’t know what exactly, but she could see the residue of it in his eyes. And of course she noticed how Josh avoided eye contact during the meeting. Or how he signed up to almost every single chore or extra task.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asked gently.

Tyler gave another small shake of his head. Then paused and glanced around the room slowly.

“Can I use your bathroom?... yours is nicer than the counselor one.” It was a thin excuse, and he knew it. But Jenna didn’t press, she just nodded and gestured down the hall.

“Of course, help yourself. Towels are under the sink."

Tyler moved like he was underwater... Quiet, slow, polite. He disappeared into the hallway, shut the bathroom door behind him with a soft click. For a few moments, everything stayed still. A faint noise came from the kitchen, the click of a kettle, the shift of a mug. Jenna moved through the space like normal, letting the silence stretch without crowding it.

But the spell her voice cast back in the cabin, the one that kept Tyler functional, was starting to fade.

He turned the shower on out of habit, just to drown out the rest of the world. Steam rose slowly, curling through the air as he sat down on the closed toilet lid, face buried in his hands. The pressure in his chest hadn’t let up since the common room, if anything, it had only gotten worse.

Josh hadn’t looked at him once.

Every time Tyler had tried to sneak a glance, hoping for even the smallest flicker of acknowledgment, Josh’s eyes had been somewhere else. Focused on Dave, on his notes, on anything that wasn’t him.

And Tyler got the message.

He’d ruined everything. Not just with the words he said, but with how easy it had been for those words to come out. Like some awful part of him had been waiting to cut the rope, to burn someone else before they burned him

And now that it had… he felt sick. Humiliated. Not because he’d said too much, but because what he said was a lie wrapped in every broken instinct he’d never fully unlearned.

He knew it was his damage talking, knew it was panic and shame wrapped up in false control. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d said it. That he’d looked into the eyes of the only person who had ever met him with nothing but softness, at least not in the moments that mattered. The person who had waited for him, again and again, who had never once tried to tear him open or pressure him into something he wasn't ready for.

Josh had been patient. Josh had seen him in ways no one else had.

And Tyler had thrown it away.

His own words still echoed like poison through his skull, dragging nails down his throat from the inside out. His hands trembled, useless in his lap, the weight of his own voice sat heavy on him, too much to carry.

His chest grew tighter with every shallow breath. At first, it just felt like heaviness, but then it closed in, caving inward. His heart picked up speed, the space around him seemed to tilt, like the air had grown too thick to stand in. He needed to move. To do something.

He stripped quickly, his fingers fumbling clumsily at the fabric. Hoping to find some kind of distraction, he stepped under the stream, wishing the shower might help him feel like he could wash it all off. But the second the hot water hit his skin, it was too much.

The pressure of it, the roar of the water, the oppressive heat... everything slammed into him at once. The steam closed in and his skin burned.

He gasped.

Flinched back and lost his footing.

His shoulder slammed against the wall with, and for a second, the world tilted. His hand shot out, reaching for anything, and he caught the edge of the shower curtain, but it didn’t hold. The fabric gave way beneath his weight, and he watched it all unfold like it was happening in slow motion... The curtain tearing off the rings, the sudden blur of the tiled wall, the sharp sound of his body crashing onto the floor.

Thud.

For a moment, the world stopped.

Tyler didn’t move, didn’t try to sit up.

Just lay there, soaked and crumpled in a heap of cheap plastic and twisted limbs, tangled in the shower curtain. His breath stuttered in short, panicked bursts. His chest burned with every attempt to pull in air and his body ached from the fall, bruises beginning to bloom under his skin... But his insides ached worse.

It felt like something inside him was splitting open.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t lift his head. He couldn’t stop the tears from falling, hot and silent and unstoppable, tracking across his flushed cheeks, disappearing into the steam.

It was like his body had finally given out.

Given up.

...

Jenna froze mid-step in the kitchen when she heard the crash.

The sound wasn’t just loud... it was wrong. Something sharp and heavy, something that didn’t sound like soap slipping or someone bumping an elbow. Her heart jumped, her hand tightening around the mug she was about to set down.

Then silence. Too much silence.

She was already moving, running halfway down the hall when she heard the uneven breathing, the choked sob, the muffled and panicked wheeze.

She knocked once. “Tyler?”

No answer. “Tyler, I’m coming in.”

She swung the door open and was instantly hit by a wall of steam, thick and clinging like smoke from a fire. The shower was still running, water pounding against the tiles with relentless force, but Tyler wasn’t under it. He was crumpled on the floor, curled in on himself, the torn shower curtain tangled around his hips like wreckage from a fall. His chest was heaving with sharp, ragged jerks that made his whole frame tremble.

His hands clutched at his ribs like he was trying to keep himself from splitting open. His mouth was open but useless, dragging for breath, and his face was wet with tears, red and shaking.

Jenna’s heart stopped.

It felt like stepping back in time. Because she’d seen this before. Not exactly like this, not on a bathroom floor, but close enough. After The breakup, after the crash, after the last time Tyler’s world had shattered and he forgot how to function under the weight of it.

“Ty,” she breathed, dropping to her knees beside him. “Hey... hey, I’ve got you. You’re okay, you’re safe... I’m here.”

His eyes fluttered toward her like he barely registered her face. He shook his head in little jerks, hands still clawing at his chest.

“I- I can’t-”

“I know,” she whispered, her voice firm but soft. She reached for one of his hands, wrapping her fingers around it tightly. “I know. Just breathe with me... You’re safe, Ty. You’re not alone, I’ve got you.”

She grabbed a clean towel from under the sink and wrapped it around him, trying to block the chill and the damp at once.

“Look at me,” she said, firm but gentle. “In for four, out for four, remember?”

Tyler couldn’t speak, but he nodded faintly, eyes barely locked onto hers. They were wide and wild, glassy with panic, like an animal that had just been cornered. But he tried. A sharp, ragged inhale and a shaky, uneven exhale...

“No, slower,” Jenna murmured. “Try again. You’re okay, you’re right here with me.”

It took minutes... long ones. Jenna stayed crouched beside him the whole time, rubbing gentle circles into his back with one hand, holding the towel over his shoulders with the other. His body was still trembling, but eventually the air started reaching his lungs again. Not smoothly, but enough. Enough to stop the spiral from swallowing him whole.

Only once his breathing returned to something close to steady did she move. She reached for the dry clothes he’d set on the counter earlier and helped him dress without saying much. Just quiet, steady movements and soft encouragements when his hands didn’t quite work.

By the time she got him onto the couch in the living room, the crisis had passed, but just barely. He let himself be lowered down like a sleepwalker, sinking into the cushions as Jenna wrapped a thick blanket around his shoulders and tucked it tight around him.

She sat beside him without crowding, her body angled just slightly toward him, watching with quiet heartbreak as he stared at nothing.

“Okay,” she said gently, “Talk to me.”

Tyler blinked slowly, like coming out of a dream, his voice dry and almost childish. “I thought he was leaving.”

Jenna didn’t rush him.

“I thought-” his throat bobbed. “When you said we were down a counselor… I thought it was Josh. That I’d pushed him too far... that he left. I really thought-” he broke off, eyes suddenly shining again.

Jenna waited, calm and open.

“I saw him with Debby,” Tyler whispered. “Down by the lake. I didn’t know... I didn’t know her grandmother-... I didn’t know... I just saw them, and it looked like-” he shook his head, tears slipping down. “It looked like they were... he was holding her and I... I don’t know.”

His hands fidgeted under the blanket, twisting the edge between his fingers.

"I was going to talk to him, had it all lined up. I was finally gonna... I was ready." He shook his head like he still didn’t believe it. "And then I saw... and it was like my brain just... flipped a switch. And then he came to my cabin and he was so-" He let out a tight sound. "-kind... like he always is. And I couldn’t... I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t want to feel that. I didn’t want... softness."

Jenna’s eyes were soft but steady, never leaving his. He curled in slightly. His voice dropped to barely more than a breath.

"I wanted to hurt... So I said the worst things I could think of.”

His voice cracked.

“And I-” Tyler broke off, curling slightly into himself. “I saw his face, Jenna. He looked... gutted. And then he... didn’t even yell, he just left.”

Jenna pressed her lips together tightly, her heart aching.

“I ruined it,” Tyler said, trembling. “I ruined it for good, there’s no going back. And it's... it’s confirmed. I’m... I’m human trash, I can’t give love, I can’t receive it. I’m broken... And he finally saw it.”

“Stop,” Jenna said. Not harsh, but sharp enough to cut through his spiral. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it.”

Tyler blinked, a little bit stunned as Jenna finally spoke.

“You’re not trash,” she said. “You’re hurting. You reacted out of pain... It doesn’t make it okay, but it also doesn’t make you a monster.”

He tried to look away, but she gently touched his arm.

“And you don’t get to decide what the final straw is for someone else. You don’t get to say that it’s over just because you think you wrecked it. Yes, you hurt him. Yes, it’s going to take time. But Josh cares about you. I don't think that's changed.”

Tyler sniffed, the words hitting harder than he wanted to admit.

“There’s still a chance, Ty. You just need to talk to him - apologize, explain, whatever you have to do... He might not be ready tomorrow, or the day after that. But don’t you dare decide for him that he’s already gone.”

For the first time in hours, Tyler let out a breath that wasn’t a sob. It wasn’t a relief either, exactly, but it was something like... stillness.

He leaned his head back against the couch, eyes closing. His limbs were heavy, his thoughts even heavier, but something Jenna had said carved out a little pocket of oxygen in his chest.

Just a tiny little maybe... Maybe there was still a way back.

He felt the blanket shift slightly as Jenna stood up, tucking it in a little tighter around him. Her hand brushed briefly over his hair.

“Try to get some sleep,” she said softly. “We’ll figure the rest out tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

Tyler was awake before dawn.

To his surprise, he’d managed nearly five hours of sleep, not because he felt safe or settled, but because his body had simply given out. After everything that happened the night before, the spiral, the panic, the breathless collapse in the shower, there was nothing left in him to fight. His muscles had locked up so tight during the attack that even now, his arms ached.

His chest still felt raw from the weight of it.

He’d spent the last two hours in silence, lying stiff on Jenna and Dave’s couch, his eyes fixed on the dim ceiling as thoughts swirled like storm clouds -loud, then quiet, then loud again. The blanket draped over him felt too warm and too thin all at once, and the shadows of the living room shifted every time he blinked.

He thought about Josh. About the way he looked when Tyler pushed him away. He thought about Jenna, too, how she hadn’t flinched when he broke down in front of her. He thought about his past. The last time he fell apart like that. The last time she was the one who picked up the pieces.

His thoughts moved too fast for him to hold onto... a blur of shame, regret, humiliation. Every time he tried to catch one, it slipped through like water.

The stillness around him only made the noise inside louder. He hated himself for being wired this way. For pushing Josh away, for not trusting him, for feeling utterly powerless to stop it, powerless to change.

He was scared this was how it would always be. That people... genuine, kind people, would come into his life, hoping to become part of it, and when they got too close, he would always retreat. Always hurt them. One way or another.

But beneath the shame, beneath the self-hatred and fear, like a thread running through all the wreckage, was Jenna’s voice from the night before... Gentle and grounding. It was the only thing that had kept him from unraveling again. The only thing that made him believe, however faintly, that he might make it through today.

It was just a little past dawn when the bedroom door creaked open and Jenna stepped out, barefoot, hoodie sleeves pushed over her hands, her expression tense until her eyes landed on Tyler.

There was a flicker of relief in her expression, like she was glad that he was still there. Awake and breathing.

“Morning,” she said softly, her voice scratchy with sleep.
Tyler just nodded, didn't speak, he didn’t trust his voice to make it past the tightness in his throat, raw from silence.

Jenna padded into the kitchen, filled the kettle with water and flicked it on without a word. She moved quietly, reaching into a cabinet for two mismatched mugs. The soft clinks of ceramic and metal felt sharp in the hush of early light.

She handed him a steaming mug a few minutes later, then sat on the arm of a nearby chair with her clipboard balanced on one knee.

“Okay, so… today you’ve got music at nine. There are about fifteen kids signed up already, but I’m guessing a few more will join. Then lunch prep. The afternoon program is-”

She dove right in, her voice steady. She knew that yesterday’s meeting had gone in one ear and out the other for Tyler. There was no use pretending otherwise.

There was also no room for questions like Are you okay? How are you feeling? Can you handle today?

They both knew the answer didn’t matter... Not with Debby gone, not with everything that still needed doing.

Tyler took a sip of tea as she walked him through the day’s schedule. It was hot and slightly bitter, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Jenna had slipped in one of her magical herbal mixes, the kind she always claimed were good for stress, or aura alignment, or whatever other nonsense those teas were supposed to fix.

Normally, he’d have been snide and sarcastic about it. He’d have teased her for believing in that kind of stuff. But now, sitting there wrapped in a blanket, with her voice calmly listing off times and activities like nothing had shattered the night before… he felt steadier than he thought he would.

He decided to believe it wasn’t the tea... it was Jenna. Her quiet presence, her unobtrusive support, her steady hands and grounding words. The way she never asked more than he could give, but always offered more than he realized he needed.

“Thank you,” he murmured when she finished.

She simply reached out and gave his forearm a gentle squeeze, her expression soft and knowing. They didn’t say much more after that... they didn’t have to.

When they left the house, the camp was still sleepy. A few birds chirped half-heartedly in the trees. Dew clung to the grass, catching faint traces of morning light. The gravel crunched softly beneath their feet as they walked side by side toward the mess hall.

Jenna didn’t speak, but Tyler could feel her presence like a weighted blanket, steady... anchoring. He kept his hands in his pockets, head down, but part of him stayed tethered to her pace beside him.

They reached the mess hall before the clatter and chaos of breakfast had fully kicked in. Tyler kept his gaze fixed on his plate, barely eating, just nudging food around, occasionally lifting a bite to his mouth like it was muscle memory. The toast tasted like nothing. His tea had already gone lukewarm.

Jenna sat nearby, scribbling a few notes on her clipboard between bites of toast. Tyler wished she could stay by his side all day, but he knew there was no chance of that happening. Still... he had to hope that music, and the kids, would be enough to keep him moving and distracted.

He hadn’t even let himself think about seeing Josh... up until the moment they were stepping out, and he caught sight of him from a distance, walking slowly toward the side entrance of the mess hall.

Josh was already looking in his direction. And for a fleeting moment for just half a second, their eyes met.

But then Josh looked away - sharply, purposefully. Eyes down, jaw tight, steps quickening as if he couldn’t get away fast enough.

Tyler’s breath caught and his stomach dropped like a stone.

He’d expected Josh to avoid him, he was ready for that. But the speed with which he turned away, the way his stride picked up, like he couldn’t stand to look at him, that stung more than Tyler had prepared for.

He stared at the space where Josh had been for a while, pulse ticking dully in his ears. Next to him, Jenna shifted slightly.

"Come on," she said after a moment, tugging gently at the sleeve of his hoodie.

Tyler followed.

***

The day had been a blur. The usual calm rhythm of camp had been replaced with low-level chaos as everyone scrambled to fill in for Debby’s absence.

Morning workshops went smoothly enough. Jenna had discreetly rerouted a few of the kids to other activities so her group wouldn't be too large. Tyler’s music group ended up unusually full, kids who normally chose horses now handed tambourines back and forth, banging out rhythms with uneven enthusiasm. He didn’t mind. The distraction helped.

Lunch prep came and went in what felt like ten minutes. Then came the counselor meeting, mostly for Dave’s benefit. He’d taken over Debby’s team for the afternoon games and needed a full crash course to get up to speed. Jenna and Morgan handled it with quiet precision, walking him through the sign-up sheets and old scorecards.

No one really had time to stop. Everyone had somewhere to be, something to do, and a bit of Debby’s workload stacked on top of their own. But some of them seemed to carry more than just the visible weight.

Jenna spent the whole day half-present in her tasks and half-focused on Tyler. She lingered near the edge of his music workshop longer than necessary, hovered near the kitchen during cleanup, stopped by the field just long enough to see him moving, speaking, breathing.

She wasn’t that kind of person to hover, but Tyler could feel her presence, like a safety net trailing just out of sight. Ready to catch him if he slipped again.

He didn’t... He wasn’t fine, not really, but he was functioning. He played ukulele with the kids, helped hand out food at lunch, offered half-decent advice during the team games. The kids even made him smile once or twice. Not the kind of smile that reached his eyes... but still. He stayed upright.

What Jenna didn’t see was the tension coiled just beneath his skin, the quiet ache that made it hard to draw a full breath. Tyler wasn’t just navigating the camp schedule, he was navigating Josh's avoidance.

Which somehow stung more than he’d expected.

In a way, Josh was everywhere... Setting up cones for games, hauling chairs, even fixing a broken window latch at the supply shed, but never near Tyler. Every time they were scheduled to be in the same place, Josh was already leaving. Every time Tyler glanced up, Josh was facing the other way.

Tyler told himself he understood. That he deserved this. That Josh had every right to not want to be around him.

But understanding didn’t make it easier to swallow.

And Josh... Josh was busy, yes, but deliberately so. He moved with a kind of relentless effort, like if he slowed down for even a second, something would catch up to him. Grief, confusion, anger... he didn’t know which feeling he was avoiding anymore, only that constant motion kept them at bay.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t face them. He just didn’t want to do it out in the open. Not here, not where everyone could see. What he wanted was calm, space and time to think.

What he had was a mounting list of extra tasks and barely enough time to eat, let alone pause long enough to feel anything. Or to acknowledge the way Tyler kept glancing in his direction. And when he did notice... when he felt the familiar pull of Tyler’s gaze from across the field or the mess hall, he chose not to look back.

Because trying to decode what that look meant... whether it was guilt, or regret, or something closer to longing... was too risky while everything around him kept moving.

Right now, exhaustion felt safer. It dulled the sharp edges. Blurred things just enough. He was tired enough to skip the afternoon snack. Tired enough to forget the ache in his chest.

At least until the moment he finally sat down.

...

That moment came right after dinner, when the sky cracked open and the rain started pouring... hard. It wasn’t the kind of rain you could walk through. It was the kind that drenched you to the bone in seconds, that blurred the world into motionless grey.

The planned evening bonfire was scrapped immediately.

Campers were sent back to their cabins, told to play cards with their bunkmates or call it an early night. Not a single one complained. No one wanted to be outside in weather like this.

Except for Josh.

He walked through the downpour like it was exactly what he’d been waiting for all day. The kind of rain that flattened everything... sound, light, even thought. Within seconds he was soaked, but he didn’t flinch, he welcomed it. Shirt clinging to his skin, hair plastered to his forehead, shoes squelching uselessly with each step.

By the time he reached the lake, the field behind him was already shrouded in misty curtains of rain.

He peeled his shirt off and dropped it in the grass without looking back. Then he stepped forward, down the familiar slope to the dock, and without hesitating, he jumped.

The lake embraced him instantly, warm, dense and silent beneath the surface. He sank into it with a kind of desperation, letting it close over his head like a lid.

For a few long seconds, he stayed under. Eyes shut, arms loose...

The pressure of the water hugged his skin, muffled the storm, smoothed the static in his head into something almost still. Then, slowly, he kicked upward until he broke the surface with a sharp gasp.

The rain hadn’t eased. It came down hard on the water, drumming in steady chaos all around him.

He floated for a while, on his back, letting it soak his face. Then he swam, just to feel his muscles burn a little, just to move.

When he finally pulled himself up onto the dock, he sat at the edge and let his feet dangle in the water. His chest rose and fell in long, slow breaths as he stared into the lake, watching the rain ripple across it in endless, overlapping circles.

The quiet started to creep back in. The ache he’d been avoiding all day found its way through the cracks and Tyler’s voice replayed in his mind, sharp and cold. "I wish I didn't know you."

Josh lost himself in the echo for a while...

It was like he’d heard those words before - just wrapped in different shapes, spoken by different people. People who walked away when he stopped being convenient. People who decided he was too much, or not enough. Too eager, too soft, too wanting.

He had tried not to take it personally then. He tried not to take it personally now. But this one hurt more. Because even if it was in fragments, Tyler did let him in. He might not realize it himself, but it was enough for Josh to start believing that maybe, it could work out. So he handled Tyler with the kind of kindness and patience he thought he deserved.

Only to have it swept back in his face.

Josh exhaled, long and slow, letting the pain rise and pass like a wave. He pressed his palms flat to the wet wood beneath him, grounding himself. His gaze stayed fixed on the water.

He was still himself, still whole, still here.

That mattered.

And then, he heard footsteps... Soft but hurried, crunching across the gravel behind him.

Jenna appeared at the edge of the dock, wrapped in a heavy raincoat, water still sliding off the hood in thick streams. Her cheeks were flushed, hair damp around her temples, and even from several feet away, Josh could see the worry etched into her face.

“You’re gonna catch pneumonia,” she called over the rain, her voice half-heartedly scolding, half-relieved.

Josh turned his gaze away from her, back at the lake. “It’s warm,” he said simply.

She took a few careful steps down the dock but didn’t come too close. Just stood, waiting.

Josh sat still, eyes fixed ahead, but his thoughts edged toward her. He knew why she was here. Or at least, he thought he did.

She’d barely left Tyler’s side since yesterday. He saw how she hovered near him, kept watch without drawing attention. He knew they were close, that she was probably the only one who really knew him, with all his scars and flaws and walls.

It was almost funny, really. How she chose now, maybe for the first time all summer, to come find him. Convenient timing, right after everything had gone to hell.

“What… you here to lobby for your boy scout?” he said, the words slipping out with more edge than he meant.

But Jenna didn’t flinch. She just took a tiny step closer and lowered herself onto the dock beside him, keeping a careful distance.

“No,” she said quietly. “I came to ask if you’re okay.”

Josh blinked, caught off guard.

“I know you and Debby talked a lot-” she added. “-and now that she’s not here…” She shrugged, pulling the raincoat tighter around herself. “I just didn’t want you going through this alone.”

He didn’t respond right away. Just stared out at the lake, watching raindrops bounce off the surface like a million tiny heartbeats. It was clear she knew something, but still, he asked..

“So... what do you know?”

Jenna didn’t hesitate. “Tyler told me everything yesterday. After he…” She stopped herself, faltering for just a second, like she’d nearly said too much. Like the next words might betray confidence.

Josh’s jaw tensed. After he what?

He had to bite his tongue to keep from asking. To stop himself from leaning toward her, from needing to know how Tyler was doing. If he was okay. A part of him, an infuriating, aching part, still needed to know.

But instead, he exhaled through his nose and said flatly, “Of course he did.”

The bitterness was sharper than he intended, but he didn’t bother reeling it back. He wasn’t trying to be cruel... just honest.

“No offense,” he added, finally turning to glance at her. “I do appreciate the concern. I really do... But I don’t think I should be talking to you about this. You’re kind of… on his side. Friend of my enemy, or whatever...”

Jenna didn’t take it personally. She just gave a small nod, like she understood. “If Tyler has an enemy,” she said, “it’s definitely himself.”

Josh let out a long breath. The rain kept pouring around them, drumming steadily on the dock, in the lake, in the silence between them.

“Anyway,” Jenna added after a beat, her voice quiet but sincere, “just... if there’s anything I can do. I’m here.”

Josh gave a tired half-smile, one corner of his mouth barely lifting.

“Yeah. Thanks. But unless you can give me direct access to Tyler’s brain…” He let out a dry laugh. “I don’t think you can help me.”

Jenna didn’t argue. She just sat beside him, calm and steady, letting the rain speak for both of them.

After a while, she asked gently, “Should we head back to camp?”

Josh looked out at the misty lake one last time before nodding. “Yeah... I guess I could dry off.”

As they stood, Josh glanced once more at the lake, now rippling softly beneath the rain.

He didn’t feel better. Not really.

But something had loosened. Just enough to breathe.

He followed Jenna up the dock, water dripping from his hair, the ache in his chest no quieter, but no louder either.

And for now, that was enough.

Chapter Text

Two days passed, and not much changed.

Tyler still woke up feeling hollow. Still went to bed with thoughts clawing at the inside of his skull. His usual cocktail of shame, self-hatred, and fragile hope was still running the show, still coloring everything he touched.

But there was also something else now. Something heavier than all the rest. Something he’d experienced many times in his life, but hadn’t expected to feel in this situation, too.

Grief...

Not over what happened, exactly, but over what was gone.

He was missing Josh.

Not just the tension, the flirting or the thrill of being wanted. He missed the way Josh would nudge his shoulder in passing, he missed the dumb nicknames, the smirk behind every taunt. He missed waking up and knowing that, somewhere across the camp, Josh was awake too, probably already flirting with someone, probably saving the best lines for Tyler.

He missed the way Josh looked at him when he thought Tyler wasn’t watching, sharp and full of something that felt like awe. He missed his laugh. God, his laugh... that messy, unfiltered burst that cracked Tyler open in ways nothing else ever had.

And the physical part? His body remembered every touch, every press of skin, every whispered dare in the dark. But that wasn’t what was eating him alive.

What gutted him was the absence. The space Josh had once filled, all casual confidence and warm presence was now just an echo.

Tyler hadn’t realized how attached he’d gotten. How much he'd let himself want. He’d kept telling himself it was just physical, just a camp lust, just heat and proximity and hormones.

But now that Josh was gone... not physically, but emotionally, intentionally... it hit like withdrawal. It hit like a loss.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

He’d imagined a hundred versions of an apology by now. It even bled into his dreams, visions of catching Josh during a lull in the day, pulling him aside behind the mess hall, telling him everything. Laying it all out.

But none of it mattered. Because Josh wasn’t ready to listen.

He was still avoiding him, still refusing to meet his eyes. And with every look that slid past him, every laugh shared with someone else, every time Josh found a reason to be anywhere but near him, the hope inside Tyler flickered a little more.

Tyler didn’t blame him.

Josh had offered softness, patience and trust. And all Tyler gave in return was panic, silence, and sharp-edged words meant to wound.

So maybe this was what he deserved.

Even Jenna couldn’t pull him out of it anymore. She still tried... with warm tea, with her steady gaze and soft embrace. With her gentle reminders that Josh just needed time. That he’d come around when he was ready.

But Tyler wasn’t sure he believed her anymore. Not fully... Not when he wouldn’t even want himself back.

Because the truth was, wanting to apologize wasn’t enough. This wasn’t his choice to make anymore.

...

And that wasn’t the only thing he’d lost control over. The last day of camp had arrived, and with it came the closing ceremony and the looming announcement of the big winner. The kids were buzzing, jittery from sugar and sun and the high of having made it through two full weeks together.

Tyler stood near the back of the counselor group, hands shoved deep in his pockets, watching the scene with distant eyes.

He already knew.

He hadn’t been focused this session... The first half he’d spent sneaking around with Josh, caught up in heat and adrenaline and false certainty. The second half he’d spent in a fog, breaking down, spiraling, and trying to stitch himself back together in time to salvage what was left.

He’d barely kept up with the games, barely tracked points. His team had slipped into third place, and Tyler, once the unshakable camp favorite, had become something closer to a ghost.

So when Dave stepped forward, clearing his throat and raising a hand to get the kids’ attention, Tyler already knew what was coming.

“Alright!” Dave called out over the crowd. “You know what time it is!”

The kids erupted in cheers.

“After tallying up the final points and getting a very detailed breakdown from our scoremaster Morgan…” he nodded toward the clipboard-wielding counselor with a grin, “we’ve got ourselves a winner.”

Tyler shifted his weight slightly. Beside him, Jenna shot him a glance, warm, but unreadable.

“This session’s Camp Trophy,” Dave continued, pausing for effect, “goes tooo… Jenna!”

Another wave of cheers broke out. Loud whistles, clapping, a few kids even chanting her name.

Jenna looked genuinely surprised. She laughed, stepped forward, and did a quick bow for the crowd, handling it like she always did... graceful, grounded and effortlessly humble.

A few counselors patted her back as she returned to the group.

“Congrats, Jenna!” Morgan said, raising her water bottle in a toast, while someone nearby muttered playfully, “About time.”

Jenna gave a small wave, face flushed. “Thanks, guys. I honestly thought it’d be Tyler again.”

Tyler offered her a faint smile as he clapped politely. “Nah,” he said quietly. “You earned it.”

And he meant it.

He wasn’t even mad. No sting of competition, no pang of jealousy, just... a kind of numb acceptance. Like the loss had already settled days ago. Well.. the real loss, at least.

Losing the trophy felt almost right, in a way. Like the perfect metaphor for everything else he’d let slip these past few days.

His team, his composure... Josh.

...

The celebrations were in full swing.

Kids, well-fed after a two-course celebration meal, danced on benches, others chased each other around the mess hall tables, laughter ricocheting off the rafters.

Tyler stood off to the side, near the serving station, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t want to bring the mood down by looking grim, and for the most part, he managed. It wasn’t hard, seeing these kids happy always did something to him. Even now.

Across the room, Josh was moving through the chaos with practiced ease, carrying mismatched soda cans like a bartender under pressure. He dodged a flying napkin, laughed quietly, and tossed a drink to a kid with dramatic flair. They cheered like he was a rockstar.

Tyler looked away before his heart could squeeze again.

Then someone shouted his name.

"Tyler! Jenna!"

The voice cut through the noise. Urgent and too sharp to ignore.

Tyler turned just as a girl from the younger cabins came sprinting in, eyes wide, breath caught in her throat. “Amy’s missing,” she gasped. “We can’t find her.”

All the air left Tyler’s lungs.

Jenna was already at his side. “What do you mean, can’t find her?” she asked, calm but alert.

The girl wrung her hands, cheeks red from running. “We were hanging out behind the cabin and one of the boys said she was-" she paused, hesitating, "- said she was gay… like, in front of everyone. And she just... she didn’t say anything, she just left. We thought she went to the bathroom but she never came back and now we’ve looked everywhere.”

By the time she finished speaking, the other counselors had gathered around, faces tightening into mild alarm.

The mess hall began to stir, pockets of chatter rising into nervous murmurs, but Jenna’s voice cut clean through it, sharp and steady. “All campers stay here. Dave, can you keep them inside?”

Dave was already on his feet. “Got it,” he said, moving toward the front.

The other counselors were starting to organize, talking about search paths, checking cabins, heading for the woods, but Tyler was already halfway out the door.

He didn’t think about where he was going. Didn’t pause when his intuition pulled him past the stables, across the field, and into the cabin area the kids had supposedly already checked. His eyes scanned every shadow behind buildings, feet splashing through damp grass as he wove through the familiar paths.

He was moving with urgency.
Not Amy. Not her. Not like this.

He’d known her for four years now. They’d bonded last summer in his piano workshop, mostly over music jokes and sarcastic comebacks. She was sharp and soft at the same time. Just like he used to be.

The campers’ cabins were empty. But then he turned a corner near the row of counselor cabins, and caught a blur of movement between two of them. He stopped short, stepped back and blinked, double taking if he saw right.

He did, it was her...

“Got her!” he yelled, voice sharp and cutting through the night. “I got her!”

He rushed forward and dropped to his knees. “Amy,” he said, reaching for her gently. “Hey, hey. It’s me.”

She was trembling and crying in quiet, broken hiccups, hoodie sleeves soaked from wiping her face. Tyler didn’t hesitate and wrapped his arms around her, not too tight, not smothering, just.. enough.

“I’m here, you’re okay.”

Her hands clutched at the fabric of his hoodie, holding on like it was the only steady thing left.

Behind them, he heard quick steps and soft gasps, Jenna first, then Josh. They both stopped a few feet away, keeping their distance, respecting the moment. Tyler didn’t look at them, his focus stayed on Amy.

She cried for a while, face hidden in his shoulder. When her sobs quieted, she spoke, voice hoarse.

“Bryce said I was g-gay. And I- I don’t even know...” Her words broke apart between the tears.

Tyler nodded slowly, grounding her with the weight of his silence. But before he could speak, she continued.

“What if he's right?” Her voice cracked. “What if it’s true and they all hate me for it?”

Tyler’s heart split down the middle.

He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Amy,” he said, steady and soft, “whether it's true or not, there’s nothing wrong about that, okay? Nothing.”

He wanted to tell her no one would hate her for it, but he knew he couldn’t make that promise. Not when he himself knew firsthand how it felt to be rejected for it... not only by his friends, but by his family.

She stared at him, eyes wide and shining.

“You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” he said. “You’re allowed to not know, you’re allowed to wonder, you’re allowed to take your time. Anyone who tells you otherwise doesn’t know what they’re talking about.”

Her lip trembled. “But what if it’s true?”

Tyler smiled, just barely. “Then it’s true... and you’ll still be you. Still smart, and funny, and stubborn as hell. Still someone I’d pick for my team any day.”

Amy’s chin crumpled, and she buried her face in his chest again.

Josh watched from the shadows, his throat tight as he took in the scene. He didn’t catch every single word, but he didn’t need to. The look on Tyler’s face told him everything. The grief, the protectiveness, the knowing.

This wasn’t a performance, this wasn’t about being a good counselor... This was personal.

And for the first time, Josh saw the version of Tyler that Tyler never let him get close enough to touch. The version with arms open and voice soft. The one who stayed behind to pick up the pieces because no one had ever done that for him.

Amy’s shoulders began to settle, her breathing slowing under Tyler’s hand. He gave her another squeeze, a quiet one this time, protective and grounding, then let his own eyes drift upward for the first time since he’d found her.

They landed on Josh without effort.

And for once, Josh didn’t look away.

Their eyes locked across the space between cabins, a stretch of maybe ten feet, but it felt like a chasm. The world around them stilled. It was the longest look they’d shared since the night in Tyler's cabin.

Behind the look, there was no anger, no blame, just… a weight. A grief, and a thousand unsaid things.

Josh’s face was unreadable, but his eyes were soft, focused on the scene in front of him. There was a flicker of hurt, confusion, but also understanding. For once, he didn't look closed off.

And Tyler didn’t flinch. He didn’t smile, didn’t gesture, he just held Josh’s gaze, steady and still, like maybe this time, he could say something just by not breaking it.

Jenna, standing slightly behind Josh, noticed their exchange. Watched it happen in real time... the flicker of connection, the tiny spark of something that still lived between them.

A flutter of hope stirred in her chest.

But then Amy shifted in Tyler’s arms, wiping her face with the sleeve of her hoodie, and the moment dissolved.

Josh was the first to move. He blinked and looked down, then quietly turned and with one silent nod at Jenna, he walked away.

Jenna’s shoulders dropped, not in disappointment exactly, but in the quiet ache of watching how neither of them was able to make the first step toward repair. She stayed a few seconds longer, locking eyes with Tyler, who gave her a small nod, a quiet reassurance that he got this, and then she followed after Josh.

...

She found him later, hovering near the coolers by the mess hall, sipping half-heartedly from a soda can.

“Hey,” she said gently. “You okay?”

Josh nodded. “Yeah.”

But even he seemed to be questioning that answer. Because... he wasn’t, not for a few days now. But in this moment, it wasn’t just about him and Tyler, his mind was still tangled in the scene behind the cabins, still processing what he heard, and Jenna could see it.

She hesitated for a moment, knowing that she was about to break a promise, but then she spoke.

“Listen... I know I said I wouldn’t pick sides in front of you but...” She exhaled. “Do you think you’ll be able to talk to him anytime soon?”

Josh didn’t answer. His jaw flexed slightly.

Jenna stepped closer. “He’s... he’s been really beating himself up over everything. I’m not asking you to forgive him, just...” Her voice softened. I think he deserves, well... you both deserve.. some kind of closure."

Josh stared down at the can in his hand, rolling it once between his palms. He was quiet for a long while, Jenna’s words echoing in his ears like an unwanted confession. He wasn't even surprised she brought it up, but that didn't mean he was ready to answer it.

He let the silence stretch a moment longer.

“I want to,” he said eventually, his voice quiet and raw. “I want to forgive him, I miss him. But I don’t know if I can.”

Jenna stayed quiet.

“It really hurt, Jen.”

She looked at him, truly looked, and she saw it wasn't just the sting of rejection on his face, it was something that ran much deeper than that.

“The words he said... the way he said them... I don’t know what to expect from him,” Josh said. “And I don’t know if I could go through something like that again.”

Jenna’s heart cracked in a different way now, not just for Tyler, but for Josh too. She nodded slowly, not rushing to comfort, just holding the weight of it, thinking of ways to help.

And then, quietly, something clicked.

The words Josh had said by the lake echoed back to her... "Unless you can give me direct access to his brain…”

She didn’t have that, she didn't have access. But she had something else...

Technically, it wasn’t her story to share, and she knew the risk she was taking by even considering it. She’d be betraying Tyler’s trust. Digging up long-buried memories he’d spent years trying to push down. And she’d be handing them to Josh on a silver platter.

But maybe, just maybe… it was the thing that could help.

Jenna took a slow breath, straightening her posture ever so slightly as the decision settled. Then she looked up at Josh, her expression quiet but serious.

“You’ve been working really hard these past few days,” she said softly. “Why don’t you take the rest of the evening off? I'll cover your duties tonight.”

Josh gave her a confused look.

“Seriously,” she added, voice calm but pointed. “Take a while to relax, go for a walk, check the messages on your phone.”

She held his gaze, letting the weight of that last sentence land.

Josh paused, his brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. Jenna was being cryptic, but there was intention behind her words... something unsaid, but there.

He didn’t know what it meant, but he nodded anyway. “Okay..”

Jenna smiled. A quiet, sad kind of smile. “Okay... good.”

Then she turned and walked away.

...

Josh walked slowly, away from the mess hall, away from the chatter and the lights. His shoes stuck slightly to the dew-covered grass, the tips already wet, but he didn’t care.

The short conversation with Jenna still echoed in his chest. Her asking the thing he’d been dancing around for days, and his answer... one that might’ve sounded like sympathy, but he wasn't. He meant every word.

He did miss Tyler, in ways that felt inconvenient and unfair. And he wanted to talk to him, to forgive him, but that wasn’t the whole story.

Tyler had hurt him, deeply. And not just with that one sentence, but with the whole mess of it. The pulling close, the shutting down, the way he made Josh feel wanted one second and discarded the next.

Josh knew Tyler had his issues, that much was obvious. But that wasn’t the problem, he didn’t need Tyler to be perfect, he didn’t need him to be okay all the time. But he did need something to hold onto. A glimpse of the truth... a way in.

Because how was he supposed to help Tyler, or protect himself, if Tyler wouldn’t let him see any of it?

He shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and turned toward the counselor cabins. Inside his own, it was quiet. A few stray socks on the floor. A book half-crumpled on the nightstand.

He dug out his phone from his charger and stared at the screen. No signal bars... of course.

Without thinking too hard, before he could change his mind, he stepped back outside and started walking toward the hill behind the west field. It was where some of the counselors went to call home, where they sat on quiet nights trying to load emails.

Tonight, it was just him.

Halfway up, the sky opened above him, stars barely visible behind thin clouds. By the time he reached the top, his breath had steadied again. He sat on the crooked old stump near the highest ridge, phone clutched in his hand.

Sure enough, the signal blinked to life. And right at the top of his inbox was a message from Jenna.

It was a link to Youtube video, and beneath it, she’d written:

"watch, listen, READ the comments..."

Josh stared at it for a long moment, thumb hovering over the screen. He had no idea what a video was supposed to do for him, how it was supposed to help. And yet, as he looked at it, he felt like tapping that link might either destroy him or shoot him straight into the stars.

Then he tapped it.

The video loaded slowly. Blurry thumbnail, grainy lighting and a stage.

And there... Tyler

Chapter Text

The video quality was low, grainy and unfocused, but the first thing Josh noticed was how young Tyler looked.

His hair was longer, messy, swept back and damp with sweat. His frame was smaller, thinner in a way that made him look breakable. He had that drawn, sleepless look of someone running on fumes and adrenaline, and not much else.

Josh’s eyes dropped to the video info.

Uploaded seven years ago.

Jesus. Tyler must’ve been what - nineteen? Twenty?

But even beneath all that softness and youth, it was still unmistakably him. He looked nothing like the version Josh had come to know… and yet somehow, exactly the same. His voice, his walk and posture... It was all still there, just stripped raw.

There was no spoken intro, no crowd warm-up, just a few seconds of muffled noise and someone yelling "we love you!"

Tyler didn’t react.

He slung a bass off his shoulder and set it down into the holder, then moved across the stage toward a worn upright piano. His hands moved automatically, adjusting the mic stand and leaning over to tap a few keys on his laptop.

A backtrack kicked in, the beat slow and heavy, some deep bass undertones looping beneath it. A second later, Tyler joined on the piano, hitting the keys with careful precision.

Then his voice came in. Low, unsteady, but controlled in that way that only comes from practice and pain, the kind of control that almost hurts to hold.

Watch.... Listen...

The lyrics were heavy from the start. Josh leaned in, straining to catch them. The audio was just clear enough to make out most of the words... Lines about being trapped in his own mind, about loving people who didn’t love him back, about silence so loud it split him open.

Josh sat frozen, phone clutched in both hands as he listened to the way Tyler's voice climbed, stumbled, then found itself again. He couldn’t name it at first, but there was something wrong in the way he played... not technically, not at first. Just… too hard, too fast. Like he was chasing something only he could see.

Josh was completely still, barely breathing as he watched every move.

Then the chorus kicked in, Tyler stood up from the piano, let the backtrack take over as he grabbed the mic, and walked toward the edge of the stage.

Josh couldn't help but nod along.

The music was good. Not just good... it was phenomenal, it was different. Josh could feel it was loaded with meaning, with personal stuff, with words that probably haunted Tyler in his sleep and yet, there he was, laying them bare in front of a whole audience.

Tyler rapped a few lines, voice speeding up, breath catching on the consonants. His legs almost gave out beneath him, like his own words were ropes around his ankles, dragging him down with every step. Then he just dropped on the floor, and half-sang, half-screamed the melodic part of the chorus, bent over the mic like he was being ripped in half.

“Applaud while I’m breaking, I’ll bow ‘til I’m gone,

I died in your spotlight pretending I'm strong.”

Josh felt like he was watching a man bleed with no wound to see. He didn’t know whether to cry or look away. For a while, he thought it was one of the most beautiful, one of the most emotional and real performances he’d ever seen.

But then… something shifted.

A melodic bridge came on, drenched in synths and rumbling bass. Tyler was still on his knees, gasping for breath, one hand shaking as he tried to wipe the sweat from his face. His other hand clutched the mic like a lifeline, or like his muscles wouldn’t let go.

And then he screamed into it, his voice raw, hoarse, almost agonized...

"IT WAS NICE KNOWING YOU OHIO"

Josh flinched.

The bridge swelled, then collapsed back into the chorus, those same lines, again, and again... each repetition digging deeper.

Josh could barely breathe as he watched Tyler brace himself on one hand, trying to get back up.

But he couldn’t.

He tried again, and failed again. His legs just... didn’t respond. Like he couldn't control them anymore.

So instead, he started crawling slowly toward the piano, still singing, still holding the mic like it was part of him. He gripped the edge of the piano, trying to haul himself upright.

But then his hand slipped.

He slammed into the piano with a thud that wasn’t part of the track. His body crumpled forward, sliding against the wooden frame.

He didn't finish the melody.

Instead, he just exhaled sharply, slumped forward, and slid against the piano like his bones had liquified. The piano let out a discordant hum as his hand dragged across some of the keys.

The mic dropped from his hand and Tyler collapsed flat on the stage floor, limbs slack and chest barely rising.

The song faded out, and for a moment, the crowd cheered... loud, electric, expectant. But then it went dead silent. They were waiting for Tyler to stand. To brush it off. To end the theatrics and move on to the next song.

But he didn't.

And it didn't take long for panic to take over. Screams... people yelling, some of them rushing to the stage to check on the singer.

The camera jerked, shaking wildly as the person filming moved out of the way for someone pushing past, someone climbing onto the stage to reach him.

And in the last two seconds of the footage, Josh saw her.

Jenna - climbing up and dropping to her knees at Tyler’s side.

Then the screen cut to black.

...

Josh stared at his phone, heart pounding like it didn’t know the footage was old. His hands were clammy, his ears were ringing.

He kept seeing it... Tyler’s body collapsing. The limp fall, the mic clattering from his hand. Josh felt sick.

It didn’t matter that it had happened years ago, or that Tyler was still alive, somewhere at camp - breathing and existing.
Josh’s body didn’t care. His body thought he’d just watched someone break in real time.

There was a strong thirst for answers boiling inside his chest, a desperate, clawing need to find out what happened, a need to understand.

Then he remembered what Jenna had said. Watch, listen, READ the comments"

Josh’s thumb flew across the screen as he scrolled down to the comment section.

The top ones were sorted by default- most popular. They started vague, stupid and offhand. The way people always are when they have no idea what they’re actually watching.

• @xxlovercrash: okay but like is this ACTING or ????
• @plaidcadillac: bruh he’s got ISSUES 😭😭😭
• @teawithlucy: this is either genius performance art or an actual breakdown i cant tell 😭💀
• @slowburnfan23: ngl this gave me actual chills. dude’s voice is haunting.
• @vansandviolence: bro was fighting demons ON STAGE 😭

Josh scrolled faster, frustrated when he found nothing useful. Just chaos and meme-speak. No one knew anything.

But then... A thread, buried about halfway down, started years ago, with a collapsed comment line:

• @hazelapril: So… wtf did I just witness?? Is the dude okay?? That looked like a stroke or something???
• @indiesweetheart: I was there. That’s exactly what happened. Show ended IMMEDIATELY after he went down.
• @sharpgrins: wait for real?? i thought this was staged?? he like legit passed out??
• @indiesweetheart: yeah no, not staged. i remember local news picking this up the next day.
• @sharpgrins: holy shit does anyone have a link or something? i wanna know what happened to him
• @cutthroatcandles: here’s an article that someone posted years ago. still up I think

Josh didn’t even hesitate, he tapped the link.

Whatever it was, whatever it said, he needed to know.

He was rerouted to the site of a small local newspaper. The layout was bare and outdated, just black text on a white background, with a single photo thumbnail that didn’t load.

A banner ad flickered across the top for local plumbing services. The sidebar held a string of irrelevant stories: a bridge repair, a school fundraiser, a blurb about the weekend farmer’s market.

And then, right there in bold letters, at the center of the page, was the headline.

Josh’s chest clenched.

Local Musician Collapses on Stage After Alleged Suicide Attempt

His vision went a little blurry around the edges.

Suicide?

He hadn’t been ready for that word... He’d expected a panic attack, heat stroke or some vague medical emergency.

Not this.

Jesus... A suicide attempt?

His thumb hovered over the screen for a second, then moved it down slowly, revealing the body of the article.

Published by: Erin Vaughn, CityBeat Weekly

Columbus, OH - A performance by local singer-songwriter Tyler J. ended abruptly Saturday night after the 20-year-old collapsed on stage in what witnesses are calling a “disturbing and confusing scene.”

The incident occurred at Rook House, a small venue downtown, where Tyler was performing a solo set as part of a late-night showcase. Footage from the show — now circulating online — appears to show the artist stumbling mid-performance before collapsing against his piano and becoming unresponsive. One attendee described it as “the most intense, heartbreaking thing I’ve ever seen at a concert.”

Security and venue staff responded immediately, and emergency services were called to the scene. Tyler was transported to the hospital, where he remains in stable condition as of press time.

While no official statement has been released regarding the cause of the collapse, online speculation points to a possible overdose. Several fans in attendance noted the emotional intensity of Tyler’s set, which included lyrics referencing mental health, grief, and abandonment.

“He said something like ‘It was nice knowing you’ before he went down,” one fan told us. “We thought it was just part of the show. Until it wasn’t.”

Tyler, who gained a modest fanbase for his emotionally raw lyrics and fusion of rap and piano ballads, has been active in the local scene for the past two years. Friends have described him as “quiet but passionate” and “the kind of person who puts everything he feels into his songs.”

No further updates have been provided by Tyler’s team at this time.

Josh stared at the final line for a long moment. He felt like he’d just read something enormous and still didn’t understand it. Like he’d been handed a map with half the roads blacked out.

A suicide attempt... That was a big thing, a huge thing. But it raised more questions than it answered.
Why? What had pushed him that far? What was happening behind the lyrics, behind the collapse, behind that sharp, haunting voice?

Josh needed more.

More than speculation, more than comments from strangers and fans. He didn’t just want to know what happened, he wanted to understand Tyler. The version of him that nobody at camp had ever seen.

Then his eyes caught something just below it... a link. Blue and underlined.

More on this story as it develops.

He braced himself, because if that first article shattered him... This one might wreck him completely.

Then he tapped on the link.

Months After On-Stage Collapse, Musician Opens Up About Suicide Attempt
Published by: Erin Vaughn, CityBeat Weekly

It’s been six months since Columbus singer-songwriter Tyler J. collapsed during a live performance — and now, for the first time, he’s sharing what happened that night.

In a quiet interview conducted earlier this month, Tyler confirmed that the incident was an intentional overdose. “I didn’t want to wake up,” he said. “I thought, if I’m going to go out, let it be doing the one thing that made me feel even a little bit alive.”

The performance, held at Rook House last August, went viral for its intensity. The now-infamous video shows Tyler powering through a dark, emotionally charged set before collapsing during the final chorus. For days, fans were left with more questions than answers.

“I remember watching him crawl to the piano and thinking, something’s wrong,” one audience member told us.

Tyler was hospitalized that night and placed under psychiatric observation for several weeks. Close friends say the crisis was a long time coming.

After losing his mother at sixteen, Tyler reportedly left home due to a fractured relationship with his father. According to those close to him, he spent the next few years bouncing between friends' couches, pouring himself into his music — and, for a time, into a toxic relationship that left its own scars.

“If you listen to his old lyrics,” one of his classmates commented online, “you can hear the trauma bleeding through every verse. He was trying to scream for help in a way that sounded poetic.”

Following his recovery, Tyler disappeared from the public eye. He stepped back from the music circuit entirely, removing all upcoming shows and eventually going quiet on social media.

These days, he’s quietly resurfaced — not as a performer, but as a composer and producer working on commercial and digital projects under a pseudonym. Those close to him say he’s doing better, though he has no plans to return to the stage.

“He’s alive,” one friend said. “And that’s enough.”

...

The screen dimmed.

Josh didn’t move.

The phone was still in his hands, resting on his thigh, but he couldn’t feel it anymore. Couldn’t feel the breeze either, or the ache in his back from sitting too long on the stump. All of that had fallen away.

Because now he knew. And it felt like the ground had dropped out beneath him.

Tyler... the boy who Josh flirted with without fear, who he teased like it was oxygen, who he kissed like he was trying not to be kissed back, was someone who had once decided not to stay alive. Someone who planned it, intentionally.

The boy Josh had wanted so badly to understand, to unlock, had almost disappeared from the world before Josh had even known he existed.

His throat clenched.

He’d thought he was dealing with guardedness, with walls, with the usual scars that come from growing up and learning how to protect your heart. But this... this wasn’t just defense. This wasn’t just Tyler being cold or complicated.

This was survival. This was trauma. This was someone who had nearly died because of it.

Josh stared into the dark beyond the hilltop, eyes unfocused.

He felt gutted, utterly cracked open, because now, everything made sense.

The way Tyler shut down the moment things got real. The hollowness in his voice during their last conversation. The words he’d thrown out like knives and Josh had believed them. Let them cut. But now he saw them for what they were.

Fear.

Tyler had been scared. Cornered by feelings he didn’t know how to carry, dragged back into memories he probably couldn’t escape from. He hadn’t pushed Josh away because he didn’t care, he’d pushed him away because caring was terrifying. Because letting someone in meant giving them the power to leave.

And Tyler had probably already survived too many people who did.

Josh swallowed hard, chest tight with something deeper than heartbreak. He’d just witnessed something sacred. Something private and devastating and unspoken.

It changed things. It reframed every second they’d spent together... every glance, every kiss, every silence.

And all he wanted to do now was go find him. And hug the absolute shit out of him.

Not as a way of saying “I forgive you.” Not to fix anything. Just to let him know that he's still here, that he's choosing to stay.

And maybe Josh was crazy for wanting to do that, especially since it could become a double-edged sword at any time. Maybe anyone else would just run the other way, say this was just too much, that they wouldn't want to deal with this broken mess of a boy.

But Josh had already witnessed a soft side of Tyler, a caring side of him he rarely showed, but Josh knew was there. And he might have or might have not, already fallen in love with that part.

...

His phone was still in his hand.

Josh blinked down at it, like it had only just reappeared. Like his brain was finally catching up to his body, and the weight of everything he’d just watched was still crackling in his fingers.

He should text Jenna.

Not because she asked him to. Not because she was waiting. But because suddenly, it felt wrong not to. She had trusted him with something sacred. She’d handed him a window into a storm she’d clearly weathered for years. The least he could do was acknowledge that.

He opened their thread and typed.

Thank you.
For showing me.

He hit send.

Not thirty seconds passed before his phone lit up with an incoming call. He answered.

“Hey,” Jenna said almost immediately. Her voice was soft but loaded with tension. “Are you okay?”

Josh didn’t respond at first. Was he?

His head was still spinning, his chest was too full, his throat felt like it burned.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Honestly.. that was... a lot.”

“Yeah…” Jenna murmured. Just one word, but it carried weight. Enough that Josh could feel it pressing on the other end of the line.

He sat up straighter on the stump, the phone cradled between his shoulder and ear. A thought rose slowly to the surface, quiet but insistent.

“You were there,” he said. There was a pause. “In the video,” he added. “At the end. That was you, wasn’t it?”

“I was,” Jenna said gently. “Yeah.”

Josh’s heart thudded. “Did you know? I mean... did you know he was gonna-”

“No,” she said quickly. Then, quieter.. “But maybe I should’ve.”

Josh didn’t know what to say to that, but Jenna filled the silence for both of them. “Doesn’t matter now.”

Another pause.

“Were you the one who... y’know,” Josh began, voice a little raw, “picked him up after that? Who stayed with him?”

“Yeah,” she said.

Neither of them spoke for a while, the sound of wind filtered faintly through Josh’s speaker. Somewhere in the distance, a late-summer bug hummed.

Then Jenna’s voice came back, a little more tentative. “Anyway... how do you feel? About it all... About him?”

Josh leaned back, letting the sky fill his eyes. He thought about Tyler's voice in that video. About how broken he’d looked. How hard he’d tried to hold it together. How close he’d come to disappearing.

He thought about how much he still wanted to find him, to wrap him up in something warm and wordless, to tell him he didn’t have to earn softness anymore.

“I feel like...” he exhaled, then laughed, short and helpless. “I feel like I wanna go hug him right now.”

There was a tiny, quiet laugh on Jenna’s side.

Josh couldn't help but ask. "Do you think that's crazy?"

Jenna hesitated for a moment. “Yeah.. I mean- maybe, probably.” She paused for a beat, then added.. “But maybe this kind of crazy is exactly what Tyler needs.”

Josh let that settle into his chest.

“You’re good people, Josh,” Jenna said, more serious now. “I really hope you two find a way to work things out.”

Josh blinked hard at the horizon. He felt so full... Hopeful in a way that almost hurt. Like hope could split you open just as much as grief.

He didn’t know what the next step was, or how he’d approach it. He couldn’t predict what Tyler would do, but for the first time since their fallout, Josh was steady in his own feelings and he knew he wanted to try.

“...Yeah,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Me too.”

Chapter Text

The camp was unraveling.

Suitcases bumped over gravel. Parents called out from parked cars. Kids hugged each other with loud, clingy arms, promising to text, to visit, to never forget. Somewhere near the stables, someone had already started crying.

The end of camp was here once again, Tyler had watched it so many times over the years that he should’ve been used to it by now.

But this one felt a little different.

He had his own important goodbye to say this time. To Amy...

Not just the usual nods and “see you next summer” hand waves. This one mattered. And something about the weight of what she’d gone through, what they’d shared yesterday, made Tyler feel like leaving things unsaid would be wrong. Like he owed it not only to her, but maybe even to the version of himself who never got a reassurance like that.

So he scanned the crowd, weaving between clusters of parents, duffel bags and kids still swapping friendship bracelets. It took a minute, but then he spotted her, tucked off to the side, half-sitting on her suitcase with her knees pulled up, waiting quietly.

Tyler walked up slowly, hands in his pockets. “Hey,” he said.

Amy looked up and gave him a tiny smile.

He crouched beside her, pulling a folded scrap of paper from his hoodie. “Here,” he said, pressing it gently into her hand. “That’s my number. In case you ever wanna talk. Or ask for a weird music recommendation at two in the morning.”

Amy looked down at it, blinking. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Tyler said. “I meant what I said yesterday. You don’t have to figure everything out right now. But you also don’t have to figure it out alone.”

Her throat moved, trying to form a thank-you, but it never quite made it past her lips. Instead, she nodded and, without warning, threw her arms around him.

Tyler hugged her back, firm and steady. She smelled like lavender shampoo and sunscreen. When she pulled away, she wiped quickly at her eyes like it didn’t count if no one saw it.

A flash of headlights rolled into the drive behind her, followed by the soft crunch of tires. Amy glanced over her shoulder and straightened.

“That’s me,” she murmured, voice suddenly small.

Tyler nodded.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” she said, voice just above a whisper.

Tyler smiled softly, "You'll be back next year. It's gonna come faster than you think.”

"Yeah.. So, bye... I guess" she replied.

She gave him one last look, one last soft smile, then turned and walked toward the car. He watched her throw her bag into the trunk and climb into the passenger seat. The door shut with a quiet thud, and a moment later, she was gone.

Tyler stood there a beat longer. Then, without really thinking, he turned and headed toward the back of camp, toward the low rise beneath the camper showers, where the land curved up just enough to give him a view of the whole camp.

He climbed the mound slowly, the noise of the main path fading with every step. At the top, he sat in the patchy grass, arms resting over his knees, and looked out over the place. It was still buzzing with activity, with staff wrapping up chores, a few parents late to pick up their kids, the final hum of goodbye clinging to the air.

And then, about half an hour later, the last camp bus pulled away. Gravel stirred in its wake, and then… stillness.

Tyler sat alone on the mound, sun warm against his back, but inside, something was quietly unraveling.

The moment with Amy lingered in his chest like smoke. Her panic, her fear, her voice cracking under the weight of questions she wasn’t ready to answer. It wasn’t just that he understood, it was that he remembered too well when he was going through the same.

And now, as he sat there watching the camp fall still around him, Tyler felt the echo of that old ache creeping back in. But Amy had his number now, she had someone she could call. Tyler hadn’t been that lucky back then...

...

The world blurred around him, shadows shifting as time passed. Tyler sat unmoving, the breeze tugging softly at the ends of his hoodie.

He was so deep in thought he didn’t hear the footsteps. Didn’t notice someone sitting beside him.

Not until they spoke.

“Hey.”

Tyler didn’t move, didn’t blink. For a second, he thought he imagined it. That his own mind had conjured the voice out of longing, guilt and sleeplessness.

Then he slowly tilted his head to the side, just a fraction, and shifted his eyes sideways, trying to catch a glimpse from the corner of his vision. Too scared that if he found the place empty, he'd have a confirmation he'd driven himself completely mad.

But right there, in his peripheral vision, he saw it. A very solid, very real body sitting next to him.

Josh.

The silence stretched too long, but soon enough, there were more words coming from Josh's side. More words spoken in that beautiful, soothing voice Tyler had missed so dearly over the past week.

“I’m sorry I avoided you... the past few days,” Josh said softly.

Tyler just blinked, like the words didn’t make sense at first. Of all the things he’d imagined happening when they finally spoke again - like Josh calling him a coward, or Tyler stammering out the apology he’d rehearsed a dozen times in his head - this wasn’t any of them.

He finally turned his head to face him, slow and unsure, like the movement alone might scare him off. His eyes flicked over the figure next to him, taking him in like he hadn’t seen him up close in a year.

He had a baseball cap pulled low, hands resting on his knees, shoulders hunched a little, like he hadn’t quite decided if he was comfortable like this. His beard had grown in, just a little, scruffier than usual. He looked so soft like this.

He looked like a bruise and a balm, all at once.

Tyler stared, still stunned by what Josh had just said. But Josh didn’t look at him, he kept his gaze fixed forward, out over the empty camp.

Then, finally, Tyler’s brain and mouth decided to cooperate. Barely.

“I, uh- What?” he asked, voice hoarse. “Josh, I- what are you...” he trailed off, mind scrambling to catch up. “I should be the one apologizing here,” he finally said, heart pounding loud enough to drown out the birds.

Josh let out a quiet breath, somewhere between a sigh and a smile. He tilted his head down for a second before finally lifting his eyes to meet Tyler’s in a long, intense gaze.

“Yeah, maybe... but... I guess I could’ve let you do that sooner,” he said, eyes dropping back to his hands.

Tyler’s heart twisted, and this time, he didn’t hold back.

“No,” he said quietly. “No... you had every right not to talk to me. I deserved it. And if I were you, I would’ve done the same.”

Josh’s mouth pulled into a tight line, but he nodded once. No argument, no dismissal, just… understanding.

Tyler looked away, out over the empty camp, then back at him. “Josh.. I am so sorry,” he said, the words scraping raw on the way out. “For what I said. And how I said it... It wasn’t fair to you. It was just-” He exhaled harshly. “A messed up defense thing I do when I... when I feel too much. And I thought you and Debby... I thought I saw-”

He faltered, unable to shape it properly.

Josh just listened, silent and patient.

“I’m not wired right,” Tyler said instead, voice dropping. “Some shit in my past just… broke things inside me.”

“Yeah.. I know,” Josh said gently.

Tyler was already mid-thought, ready to explain the way he couldn’t let people close, the way he instinctively shoved them away once he did, but then his brain caught up to what Josh just said.

I know?

Tyler blinked... "Wh- what do you mean, you know?" he asked carefully.

Josh’s face flushed. His eyes dropped to the grass like he’d just realized he’d said something he wasn’t supposed to.

Tyler sat up a little straighter, tension slowly coiling into his limbs. “Josh… what do you mean, you know?” Tyler asked again, slower this time.

Josh hesitated, struggling to find the words. Like he wasn’t sure if he was betraying a trust, or making a mistake.

“I had some... outside help,” he said at last. “Piecing some things together.”

Tyler went still.

There weren’t many people at this camp who could’ve filled in those blanks. Just one, really.

“Jenna,” he said quietly.

Josh didn’t confirm. He didn’t need to.

Tyler’s heart started to pound, his throat tightening around the questions that immediately rose. What did she tell you? What do you know?

But before he could speak again, a voice cut through the clearing.

“Counselors!” It was Dave, calling from the mess hall. “Time to gather up! We’re getting ready to start clean-up!”

Josh winced slightly, then turned back to Tyler. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

Tyler nodded, even though nothing inside him felt certain. “Sure.”

Josh stood slowly, brushing his hands against his jeans. “Can you meet me by the lake after lunch?”

Tyler hesitated. “Yeah... okay.”

Josh nodded once and walked off, leaving Tyler still seated on the hill, pulse echoing in his ears.

He didn’t know what that talk was going to be, but he had a sinking feeling about it. If Jenna had told him, if she had shown him what he thought she had... this might not end in forgiveness, it might end like it always did - someone finally seeing the full picture and deciding it was too much.

Tyler had lived that pattern before. People got curious, they asked questions, they got close, and then they left. He was terrified Josh would be next.

...

After the counselor meeting, assignments were handed out fast. Most were sent to tackle the kitchen or help Dave with gear inventory, but Jenna, Morgan, and Tyler got grouped together for camper cabins. Easy enough work, striping the beds, sweeping the floors, bagging up any forgotten socks or mud-stained shirts. Everyone was meant to take a cabin solo, spread out for speed.

Tyler was grateful for the space. The short and unsatisfying conversation with Josh was still echoing in his ears. He hadn’t even managed to apologize properly before Josh dropped the “outside help” bomb on him.

There was no question who that help was. No one at this camp knew about Tyler’s past, except for Jenna. And maybe Dave, but Dave was too busy getting buried in paperwork to even notice something was going on between him and Josh.

Tyler just needed to find out what she told him.

He’d only just started on the lower bunks of his assigned cabin when he caught sight of Jenna in the unit next to his. He stepped to the window and watched her move across the room, hair up in a messy bun, sleeves already rolled past her elbows.

His chest tightened.

Now was as good a time as any, he thought, and without giving himself the chance to overthink, he dropped the half-folded sheet on the bed and walked out. Crossed the few feet of the dusty porch and slipped inside her cabin without knocking.

Jenna looked up, surprised, a forgotten candle in one hand.

Tyler closed the door behind him with more force than he meant to.

“So… you know anything about why Josh is suddenly talking to me again?” he asked, trying to sound calm, but the confrontation came out sharp. He didn’t have the patience to tiptoe around it.

“Why are you asking me like it’s a bad thing?” Jenna replied.

“Because I have a feeling there’s a reason behind it. And I’m really hoping you’re going to tell me I’m wrong. That I’m paranoid. That you didn’t just break a promise and show Josh something no one else was ever supposed to see.”

Jenna let the candle in her hand drop to the bed. She didn’t look ashamed, just steady, prepared.

“I’m sorry, Ty… I can’t tell you that.”

Tyler’s breath caught. His hands clenched at his sides.

“What have you done?” he whispered. It came out more like a gasp than a question. His chest seized, his throat closed around the words.

He took a step back like she’d hit him. “Jenna, what the fuck have you done?”

She blinked, thrown by the intensity in his voice. “Ty, he talks to you again, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Tyler said bitterly, “he said he wants to talk... No need to wonder what about.”

His arms wrapped around his chest, fingers gripping at his elbows like he could hold himself together if he just pressed hard enough. His voice cracked again. “I thought we agreed that no one else would ever see it. You know what it does to people when they-”

“I do,” Jenna cut in, stepping forward. “You think I don’t know that? You think I’ve forgotten what it was like, what it did to you? I’ve carried that memory too, Tyler. You’re not the only one who lived it.”

“Then why-”

“Because I know you,” Jenna said firmly, her voice soft but immovable. “I know what you do when you start panicking. You assume the worst, you spiral, and then you push everyone away before they get the chance to leave. But Josh isn’t going to walk away.”

“You can’t know that.”

“But I do,” she said, without hesitation. “I saw his face when he talked about you. Before and after the video.”

Tyler looked away, swallowing hard. The room felt too small, too sharp.

“Please,” Jenna said gently. “Just trust me on this?”

He didn’t respond.

“Please, Tyler, just... talk to him. Let him talk. Just… listen to him, Ty... Really listen. Not the version you build in your head when you’re scared. He said he wants to talk. Give yourself permission to believe that maybe... it could be good this time.”

Tyler stared at her, breath still uneven, but the fog in his mind was thinning. Her words landed. He didn’t like it. But they landed.

Jenna stepped closer, cautiously, like she wasn’t sure if he’d let her.

“I’m sorry Ty,” she said quietly. “I know that wasn’t mine to share. But I couldn’t just keep watching the two of you avoid each other. You were both hurting, and I-” her voice broke a little, “-I felt so helpless... like I was standing in the middle of a fire and couldn’t reach either of you.”

Tyler’s arms dropped a little from his chest, shoulders still tense but less rigid. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t pull away either.

“I never would’ve shown him that video if I wasn’t sure he could handle it,” she said. “Or that he’d treat it the way it deserved to be treated.”

Tyler’s jaw clenched, and he blinked hard, looking anywhere but at her.

Jenna took another step. “And as painful as this is... it’s also a chance. A real chance to make things right, both with him and yourself.”

She reached out, gently resting a hand on his arm.

“You’ve come so far, Ty,” she said. “And I am so proud of you for that. But you don’t have to go the rest of your life alone. I know that deep down, you know that. That deep down you want that too... Let this be something different.”

For a moment, Tyler didn’t move. But then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned forward into her and let her pull him into a hug. It wasn’t long, just enough.

Just enough to settle something inside him. To remind him that he was still here, still held, still capable of softness.

When they pulled apart, Jenna gave him a soft smile. “Go,” she said, nodding toward the door. “You’ve got a cabin to clean.”

He gave her a faint nod, then turned and walked out without another word.

Back in his own cabin, he picked up where he left off. Tearing off pillowcases, shaking out sheets, moving methodically, like if he focused hard enough on the work, the noise inside his chest might finally quiet down.

But Jenna’s words kept circling.

...

Lunch was a quiet affair.

The dining hall, surprisingly calm without the usual chaos of campers, buzzed with soft conversation. Just a handful of counselors swapping funny stories or rehashing memories from the past few weeks. Tyler sat near the end of one of the long benches, hunched slightly over his tray. Across the table, Jenna shot him a subtle glance, but didn’t say anything.

His food tasted like nothing, and at first he thought it was just him, but then he noticed others murmuring about the seasoning. The salt shaker was making its slow, communal journey around the table.

He hadn’t even realized he’d missed his turn.

By the time he finally glanced up, everyone else had already salted their food and moved on. He reached for the shaker anyway, then paused, because before he could touch it, a hand slid it gently across the table toward him.

Tyler looked up.

And Josh, calm and unreadable, met his eyes for the briefest moment and offered him a small, quiet smile. Not playful, not teasing, just... warm.

He must've been watching him.

It was nothing... but it felt like everything.

Tyler was the last one to finish his food. By the time he set his tray aside, the dining hall had already emptied. Most of the counselors were heading into town, to buy some groceries, to catch a movie, or just soak up their one real day off.

Tyler had no such plans.

He had a different kind of appointment.

He was supposed to meet Josh by the lake.

He stepped outside alone. The sun hung high overhead, warm but not punishing, and a few lazy clouds drifted across a pale blue sky. The camp felt quieter now, like it was exhaling, winding down from a long, emotional summer.

Tyler made his way toward the lake path, his feet moving on muscle memory alone.

He told himself not to overthink it. But of course, he did.

What if Josh just wanted to clear the air, get closure, tie up loose ends, before cutting things off completely? What if seeing the video had only confirmed the worst? That Tyler was broken, unsafe and just... not worth the effort. He’d seen people walk away before. He knew how easy it was.

He shook his head, tried to push the thought aside.

Josh saw the video. And he still wants to talk, Tyler reminded himself. That has to mean something.

The path dipped slightly as he neared the trees. He could see the dock now, stretching out over the glittering surface.

And there was Josh. Sitting cross-legged near the edge, elbows on his knees, gaze fixed on the ripples in the lake.

Sunlight caught in the strands of his hair, his profile carved in quiet focus. Tyler felt that old ache bloom in his chest again, tender and raw. He looked beautiful. God, he hoped Jenna was right. That this wasn’t the end. That maybe this could be something different.

Tyler slowed, breath catching for a moment. Then he moved forward and stopped a few feet behind him.

"Hey," he said quietly.

Josh looked up. And smiled... Not forced, or polite, just a genuine, warm smile.

And Tyler nearly forgot how to breathe.

It almost stunned him... not just because of how warm it was, but because it still existed after everything. It made him feel impossibly small, fragile in a way he hated to admit. He didn’t know how Josh could still look at him like that… not after knowing what he knew.

He came closer and sat down beside him, leaving just enough space between them. His fingers tangled nervously in his lap, his gaze skimming the water like it could anchor him there.

"So... you saw the video," Tyler said, voice barely above a whisper.

Josh's face softened, and he turned to meet Tyler's eyes. "Yeah."

Tyler nodded slowly, bracing himself for the blow. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

Josh looked back at the water. "Kind of. Not just that. But... yeah, I guess it’s part of it. It’s what gave me the push to finally come find you.”

Tyler let out a breath, quiet and resigned. “Because you finally saw what a mess I am.”

Josh turned sharply toward him. “No. Well... I mean, yeah, that too. But not in the way you think.”

He held Tyler’s gaze for a moment, then looked away again. “It wasn’t about the mess. It was about finally understanding where it all comes from.”

Tyler frowned, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“For a while I thought you were just... I don’t know. Kind of an asshole,” Josh admitted with a wry shrug. “To me, specifically. But every time I saw you interact with the kids, or other people, it didn’t sit right with me... it didn’t add up.”

He dragged a hand across the back of his neck. “So I figured maybe you had walls. That you were just careful. I just didn’t know how deep it went. Or how much pain you were carrying.”

Josh exhaled. “So... yeah, as hard as it was to watch the video, and read the articles, it also made things make sense. It gave me context.”

Tyler blinked.

Josh continued, gentler now. “Like... now I know that what you did, or said... wasn’t to be cruel. It was more like survival. You trying to stay safe the only way you knew how.”

Tyler was staring at him now, heart pounding against his ribs.

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. He hadn’t imagined this... not in a thousand late-night spirals.

He’d expected disappointment, pity, maybe anger, but not this. Not empathy and understanding. Not Josh looking at him like he wasn’t something to be fixed... but something to be held.

"Jesus," he said, half-laughing. "Why does this feel like you’re apologizing for me?"

It wasn’t a joke, not really, but he delivered it like one. Like his brain didn’t know what to do with gentleness, so it reached for humor instead.

Josh couldn't help but crack a smile too. "Oh... Sorry. Did I ruin your big speech?"

Tyler shook his head, smiling despite himself. "Kind of did, yeah."

They didn’t speak for a while, and Tyler’s smile faded a little. He turned more fully toward Josh.

"I mean it, Josh. I’m sorry for what I said. For how I twisted everything in my head and took it out on you. You didn’t deserve that."

Josh said nothing, just listened.

“My insecurities... they didn’t let me see past what I conjured up in my mind. Didn’t let me see what was really happening. They blocked everything else out, and I couldn’t think straight.”

He swallowed. “I took it out on you with words you didn’t deserve. And now, with everything you just said a moment ago, it makes me feel even worse about it.”

He looked down at his hands, then back up, voice quieter. “I wish I could take it back. But I can’t. And I get it if you don’t want to... continue whatever that was between us. But I’m just hoping... maybe you could forgive me.”

Josh watched him, eyes calm and unreadable for a beat.

Then he said, simply, "Thank you."

Tyler blinked.

Josh added, "And I do forgive you, Ty."

A soft breath escaped Tyler’s lips. Relief, gratitude, something sharp and aching.

But Josh wasn’t done.

“But... you were right about one thing. I don’t want to keep doing whatever that was...”

Chapter Text

“But... you were right about one thing. I don’t want to keep doing whatever that was...”

Tyler froze.

He stopped breathing for a second... just long enough for something in his chest to twist. The words hit harder than he expected, like a door quietly shutting.

But before the ache could settle, before the silence could start to sting, Josh spoke again.

“I want to do this right with you.”

Tyler’s gaze snapped to him.

“I don’t want just… messy quickies behind the laundry shack. I want more than that,” Josh said, voice steady but quiet. “I want to actually get to know you. I want to take you out on dates. Hold your hand in front of people. Wake up next to you without wondering if I’m allowed to stay.” He paused, like trying to get the wording right. “I want something real. I want to do it right.”

For a second, Tyler couldn’t speak. He didn’t even blink. The sunlight caught Josh’s curls and lit up the edge of his face like some divine joke, like the universe had decided to paint a halo on him just to make this moment unbearable.

And it was unbearable.

Because it was too kind, too much. Because something in Tyler’s chest clenched so tightly it hurt, something warm and aching and too big to name.

Josh must’ve taken his silence the wrong way. He shifted slightly, suddenly unsure. “I mean… if that’s what you want too.”

That finally broke through the fog.

“Yeah,” Tyler said, almost breathless. “Yes, Josh... I’d really like that.”

Josh visibly relaxed, a softness blooming in his shoulders. For a moment, he looked like he was about to reach for him, Tyler saw it in the twitch of his hand, the subtle lean forward... but he didn’t.

Instead, Josh exhaled and said, “I think we should maybe… hold off on the physical stuff for a bit. Just until we figure each other out better. Emotionally, I mean.”

Tyler blinked. “You mean like…”

Josh nodded. “I just don’t want to fall back into old habits. I think it’s too easy to confuse touch with trust.”

Tyler considered that... the honesty, the intention behind it. And even though every part of him was still reeling from being forgiven, from being wanted, he found himself nodding too.

“Fair enough,” he said. Then he added, with a crooked half-smile, “Just a heads up though, I’m not really great at the whole ‘getting to know each other’ thing. So… I dunno... be patient with me. Or something.”

Josh grinned at that. “I can do that.”

Then his eyes lit up like he’d just had the best idea in the world. “Okay... What if we make it a challenge?”

Tyler raised an eyebrow. “A challenge?”

Josh leaned in, eyes bright. “Yeah... Every time we see each other, even if it’s just passing in the hall or walking to dinner, we have to share something. One fun fact... and one not-so-fun fact... About ourselves.”

He paused, letting it hang.

Tyler let the idea roll around in his mind. It was silly and kinda corny, but… also kind of sweet. And it made things feel easier, like he didn’t have to figure out how to open up all at once.

He smiled. “Okay... I think I can do that.”

Josh smiled back. “Alright.. then let’s start right now.” He sat up straighter. “I’ll go first.”

Tyler’s brow creased. “Right now?”

Josh nodded. “Right now.”

There was a brief beat of silence as Josh rubbed his palms against his thighs, as if warming them up for a performance. Tyler watched the gesture, oddly charmed. For someone who’d just delivered a speech about holding hands and doing things right, Josh still looked adorably unsure of himself.

"Okay," Josh glanced sideways with a small smirk. “Fun fact: I used to do competitive trampoline as a kid. Like... full-on routines. I can still do a backflip if I’m warm enough.”

Tyler blinked, then huffed out a laugh before he could stop it. “You’re kidding.”

Josh grinned. “Not even a little.”

And just like that, the tension eased. It didn’t vanish, but it loosened just enough to let the air feel lighter. Tyler let the image play in his head... Josh midair, limbs flailing, probably in some ridiculous sparkly leotard, and the smile that curled on his face was entirely unguarded.

“Well, shit,” Tyler said. “Now I kind of need to see that.”

Josh’s eyes twinkled, and he giggled softly. “Yeah... not a chance.”

Then his expression shifted, softening as he looked down at the dock in front of him. “Okay... Not-so-fun fact.”

The shift in tone was immediate... Tyler felt it like a drop in pressure, like the sun dimmed just a notch.

Josh took a breath. “ Back in high school, I dated someone who made me feel like I was too much. Too emotional, too intense, too everything.” He paused, fingers threading together. “It took me a long time to realize they weren’t really overwhelmed by me... they were just scared of how much I cared. And instead of saying that... they made it about me.”

Tyler didn’t speak at first. He watched the water, then Josh. And something inside him ached... It nearly tipped into that old spiral, the one that turned everything inward, and made it cruel. The one that never let him fully hear what someone was trying to say.

There was that voice again, whispering That’s you. You did that too. You pushed him away when he got too close.

But then Jenna’s words came back: "Let him talk, listen to him. Not the version you build in your head when you're scared."

Josh wasn’t saying this to make a point. He wasn’t trying to corner him with guilt. He was just... sharing.

“I think...” Tyler said quietly, not quite looking at him. “I think maybe… they weren't ready to be cared about like that. Not by someone like you.”

Josh didn’t respond, but his eyes shimmered just slightly. They both felt the weight of it. Tyler had framed it like he was talking about Josh’s ex, but they both knew who he was really talking about.

After a while, Tyler exhaled and shifted. “Okay, my turn...”

Josh smiled softly again. “Hit me.”

Tyler leaned back a little, eyes flicking upward in thought. “Alright... fun fact: I’ve never had a pet. Not even a goldfish.”

Josh raised his brows. “Seriously?”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah... My mom wasn’t a fan of mess. And I didn’t really believe in getting attached to things that could die.”

Josh’s face fell, just a little, but Tyler caught it, and quickly waved a hand, like he could soften the blow.

“I mean- I just… I’m not sure I’d be any good at it... taking care of something like that. I don’t know how to... make things feel safe.”

Josh looked at him for a long beat, his expression gentle but steady, like he wanted to say more but knew not to push.

“I think you’d be better at it than you think,” he said eventually. “You’re good with the kids.”

Tyler rolled his eyes, but his cheeks flushed all the same. “That’s different.”

“Still counts.”

A brief silence settled between them, then Tyler drew in a breath. “Okay. Not-so-fun fact.”

Josh leaned in slightly, almost unconsciously bracing himself.

Tyler opened his mouth... then closed it again. He looked out over the lake, jaw tight. There was a tug-of-war going on inside him. One part was screaming don’t say it, don’t ruin this. The other part, starved for honesty, ached with the need to let it out. But he’d done the math on vulnerability before, and it had never worked out in his favor.

But then Josh shifted closer, just slightly, like a quiet I'm here, and Tyler felt the fear crack, just a little.

He exhaled slowly, like he was steadying himself for a cliff dive.

“Before everything went to hell... before I saw you with Debby,” Tyler said slowly, “I was actually on my way to tell you that I wanted to try. Like... really try... to open up more.”

Josh was silent for a beat, and then Tyler continued.

“It was terrifying,” he admitted. “But I was gonna do it. I was gonna apologize for pushing you away, and just-" He stopped, unable to find the words. "But then I saw you with Deb, and my brain just... rewrote the whole story in one second flat.”

He looked down at his hands. “I’m not using it as an excuse. I just... if it matters at all, I want you to know I was gonna choose you.”

Josh stayed quiet for a long moment. But it wasn’t the kind of silence that shuts things down. It was the kind that holds something fragile and makes room for it to breathe.

“It does matter, Ty,” he said finally, voice low. “Thank you for telling me.”

Tyler hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until it left him in a slow, unsteady exhale. And somehow, that one sentence, that simple thank you, felt like a piece of the stone he’d been dragging behind him for years finally cracked loose.

They sat quietly for a few more seconds, the lake lapping softly beneath them. The silence wasn’t heavy anymore. It felt... light, open, connected.

Tyler broke it after a while. "So... how does this work? If I pass you on the way to the mess hall, am I supposed to yell something traumatic across the field, or...?"

Josh snorted. “Only if you want bonus points.”

Then, more gently. "No, of course not. This is just for us. Share whenever you feel comfortable. I might’ve made it a challenge, but it’s not a competition." Then he chuckled. "You don't get no trophy at the end."

Tyler huffed a quiet laugh. “I do though... if I win you over.”

Josh narrowed his eyes playfully. “Are you saying you only want me for your trophy collection?”

“Well, duh... gonna dust you off every once in a while, too.” Tyler joked.

Josh laughed, open, unguarded, and then looked at him with something warmer still lingering in his eyes. “Look at you, all cheeky and teasing.” And then he added, softer and sincere. “I missed this. I missed you, Ty.”

“Me too,” Tyler murmured.

Josh glanced toward the shore. “Should we head back?”

“No one’s there,” Tyler said. “At camp, I mean. Everyone went to the city.”

"Right," Josh hesitated. “Wanna go for a swim, then?”

Tyler’s mouth twitched. “Oh? I mean, why not. But are you sure you’re not just tryin’ to flash me with your summer bod?”

Josh smirked. “Please... you like looking at it.”

And then, without warning, he peeled off his shirt, took a running start and leapt into the lake, arms flailing like a kid. The splash was loud and graceless and perfect. Tyler stood there smiling, heart lighter than it had been in days.

“Well.. not untrue,” he muttered, but Josh had already disappeared beneath the surface.

...

By evening, the camp had taken on a golden glow, the kind that made everything feel softer, gentler. The counselors gathered around the firepit, laughing and slouching into fold out chairs with drinks in hand. Someone had brought chips, someone else had brought music, but it wasn’t a full-blown party, it didn’t need to be. There was something special about this one... the hush before the last wave.

Dave stood up and raised his beer like he was about to toast a war effort.

“Well, friends,” he said, grinning. “We’ve survived another batch. Nobody drowned, nobody quit, nobody shaved a camper’s head while they slept.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the group.

"But tomorrow, it starts again. Our final round. Only nine days this time, so if anybody still wants revenge over that little camp trophy..." His eyes flicked deliberately to Tyler, who immediately flushed. "Now’s the time. Just mind you’ve got less time to make your move."

A few people whooped and cheered and Josh elbowed Tyler gently, smirking. Tyler rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

For the first time in days, everything felt lighter, the tension that had haunted Tyler's chest had finally started to ease. He had another chance, nothing was lost. And maybe that was enough for now.

No one mentioned the fallout, or the truce. If anyone had noticed, they kept it to themselves, and Tyler was quietly grateful for that. Everyone just seemed to be enjoying the night, and for once, Tyler allowed himself to do the same.

Drinks flowed, and a few games got going. Tyler and Josh ended up sharing the same log, shoulders brushing every now and then. They didn’t make a thing of it, but the closeness felt intentional. More than once, Josh leaned in to whisper some ridiculous fun fact into Tyler’s ear, and Tyler had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

Once the air began to chill, people migrated to the common room. Some made a beeline for board games, others sprawled out on the couches or curled into corners with blankets and mugs of something warm.

Later, just as the sun began to slip below the treeline, Tyler stepped out onto the porch. The air was cooler now, shadows long. He leaned against the railing, watching the sky go from pink to indigo, the last threads of daylight stitched across the lake.

A moment later, Josh joined him quietly, his presence just a soft thud of footsteps and warmth at his side.

“I like this part,” Josh said, nodding at the view.

Tyler hummed. "Me too."

He let the moment settle before speaking again. "My mom and I used to watch sunsets together before she passed. We'd sit on the back porch and just... be. I’d make up stories about the clouds, tell her they’d keep her company as she went... Don’t know if she heard any of it at the end though.”

The words slipped out before he realized he was saying them. It had just been a thought, a quiet thread of memory drifting through his mind like the clouds overhead, and then it was spoken. His chest tightened immediately, a flicker of panic flaring in his throat.

But it passed just as quickly.

Because when he glanced sideways at Josh, who was still quietly watching the sky, it didn’t feel exposing. Josh didn’t flinch or frown, he just stayed close, like he’d been waiting for that piece of Tyler without even knowing it.

And somehow, it felt... natural. Like breathing. Like that memory had always been meant to live outside of him.

Josh didn’t speak, just stood beside him, close but not pressing. Tyler didn’t need the words, he felt the quiet acknowledgement in Josh’s presence, a silent "I'm sorry" and "I'm here" all at once. And it was enough. More than enough.

They stood there for a beat, just watching in silence, the moment stretching between them.

Tyler let the sun lull him again, its slow descent casting the lake in molten color. Everything felt so still, like the world was holding its breath. And for once, his thoughts weren’t clawing at him, they drifted soft and slow, as if they were finally allowed to land without breaking anything.

"What are you thinking about?" Josh asked after a while.

Tyler didn’t answer right away. He bit his lower lip, eyes fixed on the horizon. Then he took a deep breath.

"About the last time we stood here. Two weeks ago, when I told you how scared I was of this. And how... perfectly you handled it. How you gave me space without me asking for it, when you left my cabin after we-"

He trailed off. He didn’t need to finish the sentence, they both remembered what happened that night.

"I just want you to know that it doesn’t go unnoticed... Your patience, your empathy, all of it. It’s just so unfamiliar to me that I don’t always know what to do with it. Sometimes it feels like a threat. Like... I owe something in return. Like it's... conditional."

"It’s not," Josh said, turning to face him fully.

He let the words land, then added softly, "I... even though it’s nice when those things are reciprocated, I don’t expect anything from you. Not sex, not affection, not even answers. Just you... Your presence, your real laugh, even when it’s rare. Everything I give... I give because I want to. Because I think you deserve that. Not because I’m waiting for something back.”

Tyler blinked, throat suddenly tight.

“Oh? So you’re saying we could go the rest of our lives without sex and you’d still... what? Adore me? Bring me the stars?” The words came out half-teasing, but Tyler was deflecting. That was easier than letting himself fully absorb what Josh had just said.

Josh didn’t call him out on it, he just smiled slowly. “If that’s what you wanted, then yes.”

Tyler turned toward him, and their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world narrowed. The hum of crickets, the distant clatter of laughter from inside... all of it faded.

Josh’s gaze dipped briefly to Tyler’s mouth, and Tyler followed the movement like it was instinct. Then their eyes met again, and Tyler exhaled shakily.

“It’s not,” he whispered. “Not in the slightest.”

The gravity between them shifted. Tyler's breath caught when Josh leaned in just a little, and he mirrored it unconsciously. His heart was racing in that quiet, dangerous way. Josh looked like he wanted to kiss him. Right there, at the edge of the porch, at the exact spot where everything had changed between them once before.

But before he could even think about leaning the rest of the way-

A sharp honk sliced through the quiet, echoing up from the gravel lot.

They both jumped, stepping back like waking from a dream. The spell broke instantly.

A car pulled into view, horn blaring again, obnoxiously long. Counselors started spilling out of the lodge, craning their necks toward the commotion.

Josh and Tyler blinked, dazed.

Then... “Debby!” someone shouted.

The door opened and there she was, bounding out of the car like a shot. “Hey!! You guys didn’t think you’d start without me, did you?”

Tyler and Josh stood frozen for another second, shoulders nearly touching. They didn’t look at each other again right away, but the weight of that almost-moment hung in the air like a thread not quite snapped.

Debby had barely taken three steps out of the car before she was engulfed.

Hugs, cheers, laughter... a blur of arms and voices surrounded her as the counselors welcomed her back, all talking at once. She smiled through it, bright and warm, catching hands, bumping shoulders, offering quick thanks for the condolences that slipped in between the jokes and teasing. Her energy was radiant, familiar, as if she were pulling the sun back with her.

Eventually, she made it through the cluster and ended up face to face with Josh and Tyler.

She blinked, then looked between them. "Huh," she said, narrowing her eyes, clearly assessing. "I see things between you two are going well."

Josh and Tyler exchanged a look, both trying, and failing, to hide the awkwardness. Tyler bit his lip and Josh scratched at the back of his neck and gave a sheepish shrug.

"Well... I... " Josh started, glancing sideways at Tyler, who looked at him like a lost puppy, waiting to hear what would fall out of his mouth.

Josh turned back to Debby, a crooked half-smile on his face. "I think I'm gonna need to catch you up on a few things."

Debby's mouth fell open in an exaggerated scandal as she looked between them again. "You better. You better."

God.. she had no idea what she was in for.

Josh laughed awkwardly and shook his head. "Yeah. Just... maybe go grab yourself a drink first? I’ll come find you in a bit."

She narrowed her eyes, suspiciously and playful, but didn’t argue. Then, with a bounce in her step, she disappeared into the common room.

Josh turned back to Tyler, the grin fading into something softer. His gaze lingered, searching Tyler’s face like he wasn’t sure how far he was allowed to go. Like he knew they’d just come through the wreckage, barely steady on their feet, and here he was, about to open the box again.

"Is it okay if I tell her?" he asked gently.

Tyler froze.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected it... he had. But something about hearing the words aloud made it real in a way that twisted uncomfortably inside him. His first instinct was to say no. To protect the fragile stillness that had just started to settle between them. Because this was the part where things got messy again, where the story wasn’t just theirs anymore.

The thought of someone else knowing all of it, the humiliation, the breakdown, the rawness of what he’d been through, sent a flicker of panic through his ribs.

But then he reminded himself... this wasn’t just his to hold.

Debby was to Josh what Jenna was to him, and he hadn’t even hesitated when he told Jenna everything. He hadn’t asked permission, he hadn’t really thought twice.

So how could he deny Josh the same?

He exhaled slowly and nodded. “Yeah... yes. Of course.”

Then, after a beat, a little rougher, “Just maybe skip the part about the video?”

And a second later, more quietly, “Also, I’d just... rather not be there when you tell her.”

Josh nodded, but it wasn’t just agreement... it was gratitude, clear and full in his expression. His posture softened, and his voice came next, low and heartfelt.

"Understandable." Then, softer, "Thank you, Ty."

Tyler's brow creased. "For what?"

Josh met his gaze, and for a moment, he didn’t look teasing or cocky or composed. He looked bare, the kind of vulnerable he rarely let show.

“For trusting me with that,” he said. “For letting me share it at all.”

Tyler shifted, unsure what to say. The gratitude in Josh’s voice landed heavier than expected.

After a beat, he asked, almost tentatively, "Would you really not tell her if I said no?"

His voice wasn’t suspicious, just... disbelieving. Like he genuinely wasn’t sure that kind of respect was something people gave.

"Of course not," Josh replied without hesitation. His voice was steady, certain. "I’d respect that."

Then Josh glanced across the firepit, mouth twitching. “That said... I doubt it would stay a secret even if I didn’t.”

Tyler followed his gaze.

Debby was now mid-conversation with Jenna, both of them animated, eyes glinting in the firelight. Debby’s glance darted in their direction for a second too long, her expression a little too curious to be casual.

Tyler sighed. “Well... That didn’t take long.”

Josh huffed a quiet laugh.

Tyler looked back at him, his voice dropping, tone more sincere now. “Thank you, though. That’s...” He trailed off- considerate? ...wasn’t enough. The kindest thing someone’s ever offered me? ...felt too dramatic to say out loud.

But he didn’t need to finish, because Josh read it in his face.

“Hey,” Josh said gently. “Always.”

And somehow, it landed. Not as a promise to be analyzed, or a line to be doubted, but as something real. Tyler felt it settle somewhere in his chest like weight and warmth at once.

He looked over toward Debby and Jenna again, then back at Josh. "Okay... Go on, go catch up. I'm sure she’ll want to hear it from you."

Josh gave him a small nod of appreciation.

“I’m probably gonna call it a night anyway,” Tyler added, rubbing the back of his neck. He hesitated, then cracked a tired, crooked grin. “All this emotional vulnerability wore me out, dude.”

Josh laughed softly, eyes warm. “Yeah... you kinda crushed it though.” Then he reached out and gave Tyler’s shoulder a light squeeze, grounding and affectionate.

“Good night.”

Tyler nodded. “Night.”

And for once, it didn’t feel like a retreat.

Chapter Text

The morning buzzed with fresh energy.

New campers tumbled out of buses and backseats with duffel bags too big for their frames, while parents hovered, asking last-minute questions. Tyler sat at the check-in table beside Jenna, flipping through forms, handing out team bandanas, and offering his best version of a welcoming smile.

Jenna handled most of the parental chatter, her calm, maternal presence doing most of the heavy lifting, while Tyler managed to get a few genuine laughs out of some of the more anxious kids.

The camp stirred to life again. Somewhere, a soccer ball thudded against the ground, and from one of the cabins, a group of kids had already started singing an old camp song.

Tyler was halfway through explaining the daily schedule to a nervous looking eleven year old when out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Debby heading their way.

She approached the table with her usual springy stride, coffee in hand, eyes bright despite the early hour. She looked rested, recharged, and more importantly... like herself again.

Once the last camper had been checked in and the table began to clear, Debby leaned casually on the edge and gave Jenna a look.

“Hey you want me to run that paperwork to Dave?” she asked, nodding toward the folder in Jenna’s hands. “Figured you probably wanna go check on your ponies.”

Jenna raised an eyebrow at first, then smiled gratefully. “Oh, you’re a saint honestly.. Just make sure he signs the roster, he keeps forgetting.”

“On it.” Debby took the folder, then glanced at Tyler. “You coming?”

Tyler blinked, caught off guard, then stood and gathered his own stack of forms. “Uh... yeah.”

They set off down the gravel path toward the director’s building, footsteps crunching in the quiet spaces between morning noise. The air was still cool, the sun not yet at full strength, and a few birds flitted between the trees.

They walked in silence for a few beats before Debby spoke, her tone light but loaded.

“You know,” Debby said, “for someone so intelligent and talented... you sure were dumb enough to think Josh would cheat on you with me.”

Tyler stopped in his tracks and blinked at her, stunned.

Debby raised her eyebrows expectantly, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips.

Tyler let out a breathless sound, half laugh, half groan. “Ouch.”

“Deserved, though,” she said with a shrug, that smirk turning into a grin.

He huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well... yeah. Deserved, I guess”

“Damn right it is.”

They started walking again, the gravel crunching beneath their shoes. Debby glanced sideways at him, her expression thoughtful, like she was weighing whether to say something or let it go.

“Josh told me a lot of stuff yesterday,” Debby said after a beat, softer now. “Some of which I didn’t know. Some of which I'm sure you'd rather I didn't, but... it made a lot of things make sense.”

Tyler glanced at her, trying to read her face, unsure if she was judging or just observing.

“I just want you to know,” she continued, “those things are safe with me.”

He nodded slowly, that tight knot of tension loosening just a little, and gratitude began to simmer in his chest.

“But,” she went on, pausing for emphasis, “I love Josh more than anything.”

Tyler’s eyebrows twitched, the panic ready to spring again-

She caught it immediately and smacked his arm. “Like a friend, mind you. Don’t start your spiral now.”

That pulled a reluctant laugh out of him, his shoulders relaxing.

She gave him a look, half stern, half teasing. “But I'm serious here... If you ever pull another one of your self-destruct moves and hurt my boy with some ridiculous bullshit, I will come for you.”

Tyler giggled slightly, nearly stumbling on a tree root.

Debby was tiny, sharp, and so full of fire it felt ridiculous and oddly comforting all at once. Still chuckling, Tyler straightened up and gave her a little mock salute. “Understood.”

“Good.” She smirked, satisfied.

They reached the porch steps of the director’s building. Tyler paused, folder still under his arm, and looked at her with something softer in his gaze.

“And uh... thanks,” he said, a little more serious now. “For y´know... keeping things to yourself.”

Debby shrugged, her smile turning wry. “You’re welcome. But just so you know... I’m picking the playlist for the bonfire tonight, and you’re not stopping me.”

He groaned dramatically, holding the door open for her. “Ugh... even the sad Taylor Swift stuff?”

She grinned. “Especially the sad Taylor Swift stuff”

“You’re a menace.”

“Damn right I am,” she said, breezing past him.

And Tyler couldn’t stop smiling.

...

The final session of camp kicked off smoothly.

The kids settled in faster than usual, and by day three, they already had the rhythm down. Everything was clicking into place like a well-oiled machine... activities ran on time, the counselors moved like clockwork, and the whole place buzzed with that easy, end-of-summer energy.

Well, everything except the so-called Fun and Not-so-fun Facts challenge between Josh and Tyler.

That was getting wildly out of hand. Especially for Tyler.

It had started innocently enough. Casual jokes, quirky stories from their childhoods, occasional embarrassing moments from their lives... always something private, something only theirs. But now? It had evolved into something else entirely.

Because it felt like the teasing from the beginning of summer was back in full force. Josh was once again obsessed with stealing Tyler’s trophy, turning even the team games into personal showdowns. What began as a lighthearted exchange of fun facts had shifted into a full-blown tactic for riling each other up.

And sometimes, especially in the evenings around the firepit, it slipped into something else altogether... Every “fun” fact felt like flirtation. Every “not-so-fun” one landed like a loaded glance across the flames.

And Tyler couldn’t stop playing along. It felt good... too good.

The way Josh would grin every time when Tyler quipped back. The way he’d nudge him in passing or toss a comment over his shoulder like bait. The way everyone was watching, pretending not to watch, as if this tension between them wasn’t crackling like electricity every time they shared a look.

And Tyler was just a man, okay?

A man with a sex drive that had been in hibernation for longer than he cared to admit. And now here came Josh... shirtless half the time, tan and gleaming and deliberately off-limits. He’d been the one to suggest they pull back on the physical stuff, to focus on the emotional side, and Tyler had agreed. He’d meant it.

He still meant it.

But Christ, Josh made it hard...

The stolen glances, the half-smiles, the little smirks when he caught Tyler looking. The offhand comments whispered during camp games or the way his fingers brushed Tyler’s wrist just a second too long when handing him something.

Tyler was on the verge of snapping.

All he wanted was to drag Josh into the woods and kiss the hell out of him.

...But that wasn’t even the worst part...

The worst part was this slow, gnawing realization that despite all they’d been through... despite sharing the same space for the past two months, despite the teasing, the sex, the silences... Tyler didn’t actually know Josh.

Because while he’d been busy pretending not to care, not to feel, Josh had been a whole person right in front of him. Talented, passionate, loud in the ways Tyler had only seen glimpses of. He’d been too preoccupied hiding from his own emotions to ask even the simplest questions. Like who are you, really? Or what makes you come alive when no one’s looking?

And realizing he didn’t know the answers to those, that he hadn’t even thought to ask... that stung. It stung in the way only guilt does, quiet and sharp.

And imagine Tyler’s shock when he finally learned one of the most fundamental things about Josh, something he should’ve known. But didn’t.

Because during one of those secretly shared facts, casually dropped between jokes and glances, Josh mentioned it offhand.... that he was a drummer.

A fucking drummer.

And Tyler, who’d been running the damn music workshop all summer, had no idea. Not once had Josh mentioned it. Not once had he stepped inside the music cabin to say, “Hey... by the way, I can do that too.”

No... Instead, he’d been too busy chasing soccer balls with kids, acting like a golden retriever in human form, grinning, panting, tossing his curls like some playboy model... and leaving Tyler in the absolute dark.

And now? Now Tyler felt like an idiot.

Because apparently, everyone knew. Everyone except him.

...

During the lunch break, while the kids were either napping or deep into some cutthroat card game with their bunkmates, Tyler took the opportunity to verify that “fun fact.” He invited Josh for a quick jam session.

And now, he was perched sideways on the piano bench, not facing the keys for once, but turned toward the small drum set in the corner of the music room, where Josh sat like he’d been born for it. Drumsticks in hand, posture relaxed but focused, he looked completely at home.

And then he started playing.

He wasn’t just good.

He was insane.

Tyler sat frozen, watching as Josh threw himself into the beat with reckless precision, like he was trying to summon something out of those drums, or maybe destroy them entirely. His bare torso gleamed with sweat, muscles flexing with each strike, every motion sharp and fluid.

And Tyler was losing his mind.

He was mad... mad that he hadn’t known, mad that he hadn’t seen this side of Josh sooner. Mad that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He was mad, and very, very turned on.

But before Tyler could completely short-circuit from the sight in front of him, Josh ended with an effortlessly flashy snare-hi-hat combo and looked up with a grin. “So... believe me now?”

Tyler just stared. “I hate you, you know that?”

Josh giggled, patting the drum affectionately. “Sorry, I really thought you knew.”

“Everyone knew?” Tyler asked, still baffled.

Josh shrugged, sheepish. “Well... most people, I think.”

“Well apparently not me,” Tyler huffed, crossing his arms.

Josh leaned forward on his elbows, that smug little smirk returning. “Maybe if you hadn’t spent all summer staring at my abs, you might’ve noticed.”

Tyler opened his mouth to argue... then promptly shut it. Because... well. Fair.

Josh laughed. “Exactly.”

He stood, placed the drumsticks carefully back in the holder, and walked over to the piano bench. Without asking, he sat beside Tyler, their legs brushing, and Tyler’s lungs did something almost illegal.

Josh’s grin softened, just slightly. “You okay?”

Tyler blinked. “No. I’m not okay.”

Josh tilted his head, amused. “Um... wanna elaborate on that?”

Tyler stared at him for a second too long. His eyes dropped to Josh’s lips, then to the curve of his throat, then back up again. He licked his own lips slowly, and Josh’s eyes tracked the movement, his breath catching just slightly.

“Tyler...” he said softly, a warning buried beneath the sound.

But Tyler barely registered. Now that Josh was this close, radiating heat and still catching his breath from drumming, everything else fell away. The world blurred at the edges, sound muffled like it was coming from underwater.

All he could think about was the way Josh had looked behind those drums, focused, wild, and utterly magnetic. The way sweat had trickled down his chest, muscles flexing with every motion. The way he looked even better up close.

And Tyler's body remembered... The weight of Josh’s body against his, those hands gripping his hips hard enough to bruise. The way those glossy lips had kissed him, bitten him, claimed him. He remembered every gasp, every shiver, every breathless mention of his name. And he just... wanted.

"Josh..." Tyler said, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes still trailing across Josh's skin.

Josh’s breath stuttered, and Tyler felt the tension snap into place between them.

“Tyler,” Josh said again, firmer this time. “We said... we said we wouldn’t do this. We made that rule-”

“I know,” Tyler whispered, but he didn’t move away.

Instead, he leaned in, eyes dark with want. “But what I really want right now," he said, voice low and wrecked, "...is to fuck that rule.”

Josh’s breath hitched. The air between them practically crackled. He was gripping the edge of the bench like it might save him from doing something very, very stupid. And Tyler was all heat and tension and hungry restraint, his gaze flickering between Josh’s eyes and his mouth like he couldn’t decide where to dive first.

Josh’s voice came out rough. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Neither are you,” Tyler shot back.

“Tyler...” Josh whispered again, more plea than protest.

One move. One touch. That’s all it would take. Just a single lapse, and they'd fall headfirst again...

But then... a loud, echoing knock slammed against the door.

Followed by Jenna’s unmistakable voice. “Well, excuse you, gentlemen,” she said, teasing, then with a note of pointed urgency, “I believe there’s a group of kids currently lined up on the field... waiting for the both of you to lead the afternoon games?”

Silence... Absolute, mortified silence.

Jesus. How long had she been standing there?

How long have they been sitting here?

Josh pulled back slowly, like coming out of a trance and Tyler groaned into his hands.

Jenna’s footsteps retreated, but her amusement practically trailed after her like a perfume cloud.

They sat there in stunned quiet for a moment.

Then Josh whispered, “I swear to God, she has the timing of a sniper.”

Tyler wheezed out a laugh. “Yeah... well. Good thing she does.”

Because God knows that if he’d kissed Josh, if he’d gotten his hands on him, he wouldn’t have stopped. And Jenna would’ve walked in on a hell of a lot more than just unresolved tension.

“Come on,” Tyler said, already pushing up from the bench. “Let’s go."

Josh stood, still a little flushed, still a little dazed, and he followed.

...

When the afternoon game wrapped and some kids begged to go to the lake, Mark and Morgan volunteered to supervise. Josh claimed exhaustion, waving them off with a half-hearted smile and a promise to join later. But the second he stepped into the quiet cabin, he shut the door behind him and let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

He wasn’t really tired. He was restless, frustrated and maybe overheated in more ways than one.

He flopped back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, arms splayed out like he was waiting for divine intervention. But all he could think about was that moment earlier in the music room. Tyler’s mouth, his breath, the way he’d looked at him like he was about to eat him alive.

Josh pressed the heels of his hands over his face.

There was a reason for the rule. They weren’t supposed to fall back into old patterns... wanting without asking, touching without trusting. They were supposed to take it slow, to figure each other out in the light, not just in the dark.

But none of that mattered when Tyler whispered things like that. When he looked at him like that.

And now... Josh's body wasn’t listening to logic, or rules. It remembered the tension, the heat, the curve of Tyler’s mouth when he whispered how he wanted to fuck that rule.

Josh shifted slightly, and then cursed under his breath when he realized that his traitorous body had already responded. He tried to will it away. He wasn’t planning to start anything right here, but his body was already halfway there without his permission.

It's just... the aftertaste of that tension still lingered, vivid and thick. Tyler’s eyes, dark with want, the heat of his breath, it was all playing in Josh’s mind like a live projection, impossible to shut off.

He was so deep in it, so far gone into the memory, that he didn’t hear the door creak open.

He didn’t move, didn’t react. Not until it was too late.

Mark stepped into the cabin, paused, and froze.

His gaze dropped before he could stop it, landing squarely on the tent in Josh’s shorts.

“Oh- uh... shit. Sorry, man, I-”

Josh jolted upright, yanking the duvet over himself like it might erase the last five seconds of reality. “Fuck...Mark, I- it's not -”

They stared at each other, the silence was screaming.

Mark blinked. Then slowly, carefully, he backed up. “Y’know what? I’m just gonna... step out. Hang out with Tyler or something. You uh... you do whatever you need to do.”

Josh swallowed, flushed to his ears, he could barely breathe through the embarrassment, face blazing. And the only words that managed to tumble out of his overloaded brain were, “Yeah... Tyler.”

But Mark didn't even stop to question it, he was already half-way out the door.

...

Tyler was sitting on the porch steps, watching a pair of squirrels chase each other up a tree, when Mark appeared looking pink-faced and flustered.

Tyler raised an eyebrow. “You okay bro?”

Mark hesitated like he was still buffering. “Yeah... yeah. Just... uh.”

Tyler’s gaze drifted down, noticing the wet cling of his swim trunks “Why are you still wearing those? Go change, dude, you’re soaked.”

Mark blushed even deeper. “Uh... can’t.”

Tyler blinked. “Why?”

Mark scratched the back of his neck, ears going red now too. “Josh... uh. Josh needed some privacy. In our cabin.”

Tyler frowned. “Privacy? What for? He didn’t even go swimming.”

Mark gave him a look like he wanted the earth to open and swallow him whole. “Yeah... no, he's just... y’know. Just... doing his own thing.”

Tyler’s brain short-circuited.

“...Oh.”

A beat passed. Then realization hit like a punch to the gut.

“Wait.. He’s doing what now?”

Mark groaned. “Come on, don’t make me say it, dude.”

And okay... if Tyler wasn’t currently having a complete physiological meltdown, this would be hilarious. Mark, who probably had no idea there was anything between him and Josh, had just strolled out of the cabin mid-crisis and delivered this news to the exact worst person possible.

It was comical, tragic, and borderline punishment.

Tyler’s skin went up in flames. Because now all he could see was Josh, alone in the cabin, hand wrapped around himself, head tipped back, curls sticking to his forehead, mouth parted with breathy moans. Hips grinding up into his own fist, body flexing with every sharp inhale, his other hand clenching the sheets, or maybe pressed over his mouth to stay quiet.

God.

Tyler bit down on his tongue to keep from making a sound that would absolutely not be appropriate to release in public.

“You okay?” Mark asked, glancing sideways with a trace of concern.

“Yep,” Tyler croaked, voice about three octaves higher than usual. “Let’s uh... let’s change the topic.”

“Oh gladly,” Mark muttered, clearly relieved, already launching into something about dinner.

Tyler nodded numbly, staring ahead, not hearing a single word. His mind was still in Josh’s cabin. His body was still burning from the inside out.

He was so, so screwed.

Chapter Text

Tyler hadn’t planned to bring it up. He really hadn’t.

He’d woken up that morning fully intending to be the mature one and keep things to himself. Be chill.

Even when Josh showed up at breakfast, still flushed from sleep, and had the absolute audacity to sit down next to Tyler and smile like he hadn’t spent the previous evening needing “privacy.” Like he hadn’t been caught red-handed by his own roommate while clearly lost in thoughts about...

...well, Tyler had a damn good guess what about.

Even then Tyler was ready to let yesterday’s secret die with him.

But as the day wore on and they reached the afternoon challenge, Tyler found himself face-to-face with Josh, locked in a duel where one tiny hesitation could cost their team a brutal loss, It could cost them first place in the game.

The game was pretty simple... a challenge for both the team leaders and their kids. While the counselors were tested on stamina or balance, the campers tackled easier tasks, like games, riddles and coordination drills. But the moment their counselor lost balance or faltered, the entire team had to stop and wait for them to recover.

Each round, the slowest team dropped out. And of course... of course it had come down to them. Of course the final showdown was between Tyler’s and Josh’s team.

Which brought them here, to a duel where they were standing on a makeshift wobble-platform, holding a sloshing bucket of water overhead while their campers raced to solve a riddle. If one of them spilled the water, their team had to pause while their counselor refilled the bucket and climbed back into position.

The first team to solve the riddle wins.

So here they were, barefoot, buckets overhead, balance boards creaking beneath them, eyes locked. They were both insanely good at it. Josh held steady with brute strength, while Tyler relied on balance and controlled precision, muscles tight and calculated.

Both teams were tied, and when it looked like neither side was pulling ahead, Josh decided to take matters into his own hands. Or in this case... his clever mouth.

They were balancing just a few feet apart. Maybe so they could watch each other struggle. Or maybe, in Josh’s logic, to give himself the perfect opportunity to throw Tyler off. Not physically... verbally.

Tyler had locked onto a focus point somewhere beside Josh and stared straight ahead, jaw tight, determined not to get distracted by anything. But Josh was about to change that.

“You seem very committed to looking anywhere but at me,” Josh said, tone casual, teasing, baiting. But Tyler didn’t flinch.

Josh leaned just slightly into the silent space. “What... afraid you’ll get distracted?”

Tyler flicked his gaze over for a split second, then snapped it back to his focus point. Josh grinned, knowing he was getting under his skin. He could feel it.

“You know... scared these abs might do you in?” he added, low and smug. “Might throw you off your platform... make you spill.” His voice dropped into something slow and deliberately seductive.

Thank God no one was standing close enough to hear.

Tyler’s cheeks flushed crimson, he almost looked, almost let himself get distracted, but then it hit him... he had an upper hand here. And that realization lit a spark in his chest.

With sudden confidence, he turned his gaze on Josh and met his eyes with a smirk. “You’re awfully cheerful today,” he said casually. “Tell me, how’d you enjoy your evening yesterday?”

Josh blinked, caught a little off guard. “My evening?”

“Mhm,” Tyler said, tone syrupy. “You know.... after the afternoon games. Back in your cabin.”

Josh shifted slightly on his board, brows furrowing as he replayed the timeline. Then... realization struck.

His face went red.

Tyler’s grin sharpened. “Ohhh,” he said, mock-sympathetic. “Enjoyed yourself, didn’t you?”

Josh opened his mouth, then closed it again, not sure if he was more embarrassed by the mortifying memory, or the fact that Tyler knew.

“I didn’t even-” he tried, but it came out strangled.

Tyler raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t even what?”

Josh’s lips pressed into a tight line. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

"Oh sure..." Tyler said innocently. "Poor Mark came to me afterward looking like he wanted to scrape his eyes out.”

Josh actually choked on air.

Tyler leaned in a little, voice dropping lower... just for Josh. “So you’re telling me you didn’t touch yourself to the thought of me on my knees for you?”

Josh’s mouth fell open in shock, and his legs actually wobbled, but somehow, he caught himself just in time, water still sloshing dangerously in the bucket.

Tyler didn’t let up, voice smooth and wicked. “You’re saying you didn’t imagine it was my hand instead of yours?”

“Tyler,” Josh hissed, looking at him with warning in his eyes, muscles trembling with the effort to hold on.

But it was no use.

“You’re telling me,” Tyler went on, low and lethal, “you didn’t come all over yourself thinking about shooting it all over my pretty face instead?”

Josh’s foot slipped, the bucket tipped, water splashed everywhere.

A loud shout from Mark echoed across the field as he halted Josh’s team mid-riddle. Josh cursed under his breath and bolted toward the refill barrel like a man trying to outrun his own thoughts.

He sprinted back with the bucket sloshing in his grip, took a steadying breath, and leapt back onto the balance board as fast as he could, but it was too late... Cheers erupted from Tyler’s team just as their riddle was solved.

Tyler’s team had won.

Tyler hopped down from his board, looking fresh, smug, and completely unbothered. Setting his still full bucket down, he strolled over to Josh and gave him a light pat on the back as he passed.

“Good game, counselor,” he said mock sweetly. "Don’t worry though,” he added, smiling with all his teeth. “I believe you... Mark walking in must’ve been a real boner killer.”

And with that, he strutted off toward his cheering kids, leaving Josh soaking, flushed, and completely defeated in more ways than one.

...

Josh was still dripping.

Not just with water... though there was plenty of that... but with humiliation. It clung to him like the damp fabric of his shirt, soaked into his hairline, his pride, his dignity. All of it wrung out and left hanging somewhere on that damn wobble board.

He’d barely spoken a word after the loss, just handed off the empty bucket to Morgan and escaped. Found refuge in the empty sports shed and stood there, hands braced on his knees, trying to breathe through the aftermath.

Tyler had taken his own game, twisted it against him and destroyed him. Not physically, his balance had been fine until that moment, but mentally? Emotionally? Sexually?

Josh groaned into his palms.

They’d made that rule together. Take it slow, keep things clean, keep their hands to themselves. It was a good idea, a necessary one. Josh had been proud of himself for sticking to it. Even last night, when his body had mutinied under the weight of memory.

But apparently, Tyler had no such restraint. Or worse.. maybe he did, and he just liked watching Josh fall apart under the pressure of it.

Josh knew he had to get his shit together.

He told Tyler he wanted to do this the right way, that he wanted to take him out on dates before they crawled back into bed together.

Because he wanted more than just that. And tonight felt like the perfect time to prove it.

The timing couldn’t have been better. A supermoon, clear skies, warm air, and Josh... who may or may not have already tucked a couple of snack bars and two muffins into his backpack after dinner. Along with a thermos of lemonade. And a little Bluetooth speaker.

He may or may not have also snuck into the storage room and pulled the plush camping blanket down from the top shelf.

Now, just minutes past curfew, the blanket was rolled tight under his arm, and he was standing outside Tyler’s cabin, heart pounding in his throat.

He knocked twice, quietly.

Then the door creaked open.

Tyler stood there in sweatpants and a soft tee, hair slightly damp from his shower, skin still warm from the evening sun. His expression was wary, but open, like he didn’t quite know what he was expecting.

Josh cleared his throat and tried to smile. “Hey.”

Tyler blinked. “Hey.”

Josh held up the rolled blanket, looking adorably sheepish. “Wanna go on a date with me?”

Tyler’s eyebrows shot up. “I... right now?”

“Yeah,” Josh said, smile tugging sideways. “It’s a supermoon tonight. I’ve got snacks, a blanket... and there’s only a minimal risk of Jenna catching us if we go far enough.”

Tyler blinked again, then let out a single soft, breathy laugh. “Okay. Just... wait here a sec.”

Josh watched the door close and exhaled like he’d been holding that breath since the water bucket hit the ground.

When Tyler stepped back out, dressed and ready, he didn’t say anything, just nodded toward the woods with a look that said lead the way.

And Josh did.

They walked in silence for a while, down the winding path behind the cabins, lit only by moonlight and the occasional flicker of fireflies. The woods were different at night, softer and slower. Every crunch of gravel beneath their shoes felt louder. Every rustle of wind in the trees whispered like a secret.

“Where are we going?” Tyler asked after they’d been walking for a while, his voice low.

“You’ll see,” Josh said with a soft smile, glancing over at him. He held out a hand for Tyler to hold. “Do you trust me?”

But Tyler didn’t take it.

Instead, he stopped like he’d slammed into a wall.

Josh turned, concern flooding his face. “Hey... what’s wrong?”

It happened fast... and slow, all at once.

Tyler’s body stiffened, his shoulders locking tight, arms going rigid at his sides. His breath caught in his throat, then quickened... too shallow, too fast. His eyes darted around like he was searching for an exit, a way out, as if the woods had closed in around him.

His expression shifted. The guarded counselor, the calm leader, the one who always had it together had vanished. What was left standing there wasn’t Tyler as Josh knew him. This version looked impossibly young, fragile...

Like a boy who’d spent too long trying to stay in control.

Josh didn’t move at first. Just watched, heart aching, as Tyler’s chest stuttered with short breaths, his eyes unfocused and wide. He looked like he was about to bolt, or collapse.

Like he didn’t even recognize where he was. Like he didn’t recognize Josh.

God, he looked like he was about to have a full blown panic attack.

Josh stepped forward slowly, hands raised. “Hey... hey. You’re okay. You’re fine,” he said gently, voice low and steady. “You’re here with me, okay? It’s just me... just Josh.”

For a moment, Tyler didn’t respond. But then, finally, his eyes flicked toward Josh, all glassy and confused.

When Josh finally stepped closer and opened his arms, Tyler didn’t speak. He just leaned in, like his body had given up fighting gravity.

And Josh held him without questions, without pressure. Just steady arms and warm breath and the quiet hum of the woods around them. He waited, patient and still, until Tyler could remember how to breathe again.

After a long moment, Tyler visibly shifted.

"Sorry," he mumbled quietly.

“It’s okay.” Josh wasn’t sure what else to say at first, but after a beat, his voice softened. “I- should we keep walking? It’s just a spot I found... up above the lake.”

Tyler didn’t answer, but he slowly started walking again.

They reached the clearing less than five minutes later. A quiet hill sloped down toward the lake, where moonlight shimmered across the water in soft, silvery ripples. Josh unrolled the blanket, spread it out carefully, then sat down and waited.

Tyler joined him, folding his legs and staring straight ahead like he was trying to memorize every flicker on the surface of the lake.

Josh didn’t push. He watched the moon instead, listened to the crickets, let the silence settle.

But he couldn’t quiet his own thoughts.

He kept replaying everything in his head... what he might’ve said wrong, what he should’ve done differently. But no matter how many angles he turned it over, he came up empty. Tyler was sitting right next to him, close enough to touch, and still... he felt a million miles away.

After a while, a small, bitter thought crept in... Well, this is probably the worst date I’ve ever been on.

And yet... he didn’t know how to fix it. He was afraid of saying the wrong thing again. Afraid that Tyler wasn’t really listening anyway.

Josh was teetering on the edge of overthinking, nerves building fast, when Tyler broke the silence

His voice was soft and even.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said quietly.

Josh looked over, startled by the sudden sound. Tyler wasn’t looking at him, just staring ahead, legs folded, shoulders tight.

“It was just...” Tyler hesitated. “I used to hear those words way too often... Do you trust me?” He swallowed. “And I always said I did, even when I didn't mean it anymore. And then the trust was always broken.”

Josh didn’t know what to say, so he stayed quiet. He just nodded slowly, trying to offer reassurance without crowding him.

A breeze swept through the trees, leaves rustled above them like whispers and somewhere in the distance, a frog croaked near the lake. The air smelled faintly of pine and damp earth.

Tyler was still for a long moment.

Then, slowly, he turned his head, studying Josh’s profile. He watched him for a while, like he was measuring the weight of something unspoken. Josh didn’t look back, but he felt the gaze lingering at the edge of his vision.

Tyler finally braced his hands on his knees and exhaled like he was about to dive underwater.

“My mom never married my dad,” he said.

Josh blinked, the sentence landed like a stray puzzle piece, oddly shaped and seemingly out of context. But he didn’t interrupt.

Tyler’s hands flexed on his knees. He was staring at the lake, but it was clear he wasn’t seeing it anymore.

“So when she passed,” Tyler continued, “I was lucky enough to inherit a pretty decent amount of money.”

Josh’s chest tightened, his heart was starting to beat a little harder.

“My dad wasn’t happy when he found out.” Tyler’s voice was flat now, distant. “ He... already had issues with me. With who I was. Tolerated it, mostly for her sake. But it was the money that did it for him.” He paused. “And well... the house was his, so... he kicked me out." A beat. “When I was sixteen.”

Josh let out a quiet, shocked breath. “What?”

But Tyler didn’t look at him. His eyes were locked on a patch of grass in the moonlight, his jaw set like he was telling someone else’s story.

“A friend and his family took me in,” he said, voice low. “Helped me finish high school.” He paused, like he wasn’t sure if he should go on. But he did...

"Then he went to college in the city and got an apartment. Took me with him.” Tyler huffed a dry, ironic laugh. “It worked, for a while. I threw myself into music while he studied.”

Josh stayed quiet, eyes fixed on Tyler now.

“But then...” Tyler’s fingers twitched against his knee. “He started noticing all the gear I was bringing home. Stuff I’d ordered... synths, pedals, speakers... real expensive shit.”

Another pause. This one longer.

“And one day he just... snapped. Asked if I was stealing it.” His lips twitched, but the smile that followed was cold. “Then he asked why I was still sleeping on his couch if I had money.”

Josh’s chest ached.

“We had a fight... a bad one. I kinda had to... pack everything up in one night and leave.”

He went quiet, just for a second. The breeze picked up again, rustling the tall grass behind them. A moth brushed past his arm, but he barely blinked.

“I didn’t have anywhere to go... The only other person I could think of was this guy I’d been seeing for a few months.”

Another pause, and his tone shifted, subtle but sharp.

“Gavin.”

The name landed heavy. Josh didn’t know why, but the sound of it made his stomach twist.

“He took me in without question,” Tyler said softly. “And at first... it was great. He was sweet, kind, he made me feel like I mattered." His voice dropped. "Like I could be safe with someone for once."

Josh’s throat tightened, but he stayed quiet.

“I fell in love with him,” Tyler said, the words came like a confession. “So hard.”

He took a breath, then let it out slowly. His gaze didn’t leave the grass.

“But then... once he knew he had me...” Tyler’s eyes flickered. “He started asking for things. Little things at first... money for groceries, bills, normal stuff... Then it was more. Some PC parts, festival tickets, shit for his friends. He said he’d pay me back.”

Josh already knew he didn’t.

“And then he started showing up at every gig,” Tyler continued. “Every show, every open mic. He’d wait around, pull me aside after. Ask who I’d been talking to. Why some guy looked at me too long...”

Josh was staring now, completely still.

Tyler’s voice stayed calm, even. But it was the kind of calm that came from a place long past the point of breaking.

“Somewhere deep down... I knew it wasn’t okay, but I didn’t want to lose him. He was all I had," Tyler followed. "But... I did tell him... that I felt like he was trying to isolate me from other people."

Josh’s heart was a mess of ache and fury. He wanted to reach out, but he didn’t move, just listened.

“And to prove me I was wrong...” Tyler’s lips pressed together. “...he started inviting people over. To our place.” He paused for a beat. “To our bed.”

Josh froze.

The silence cracked wide open.

“And I mean...” Tyler’s voice was quiet, almost toneless. “At first, it was kinda fun.”

He didn’t look at Josh. Just kept staring ahead.

“Wild, sexy... It was something new. And it made me feel... free, I guess. In this weird, reckless way.”

A pause.

“But then there was this night... I wasn’t really in the mood. I’d had a shit day. I was tired. I said no.” His jaw clenched, and he swallowed hard. “And he looked at me like... like that wasn’t an answer.” Tyler’s voice dropped even further. “And then he said, You love me, right? You trust me?”

Josh felt his stomach turn.

“And I said yes... and I did it.” Tyler blinked slowly, still staring ahead. “And then I did it again, and again... and again.”

Josh’s breath caught. Now it all made sense. The way Tyler had shut down earlier, the panic, the need for control. The way just hearing Do you trust me? had fractured him.

Tyler had trusted someone once, and it had broken him open.

“Jesus, Tyler...” Josh said, voice breaking. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Tyler nodded slowly, exhaling. Then, almost out of nowhere, he said, “Yeah... you wanna hear a fun fact?”

It didn’t sound very fun, but Josh had a hunch there was more behind it. So he nodded gently.

Tyler let out a humorless huff of breath. “It’s how I met Jenna.”

Josh blinked. “What?”

Tyler’s mouth curved slightly... not quite a smile, more like a cracked window letting air into something heavy.

“Gavin had this thing,” he said softly. "He was... magnetic, charming as hell, picked people up like it was a game. Guys, girls, anyone who looked at him long enough."

Tyler's voice didn’t waver, but it had gone flatter, numb.

"Most of the time, it happened at my shows. Some of them weremy fans. People who came to see me. People who were more than happy to...” He trailed off. “...to fuck me.”

Josh flinched.

“But then one night,” Tyler went on, “he picked someone different.”

His eyes flicked to Josh, just briefly, then back down again.

“A woman, a bit older than most, but gorgeous, confident. I don’t think he expected her to see past the surface.”

Josh stayed silent, eyes locked on him.

"She was the first person who saw past her own desire. Past the show.” A beat. “She saw me.”

Tyler looked away, back toward the lake. The reflection of the moon shimmered against the ripples.

“She left that night... excused herself before he even had the chance to make a move. She didn’t really say much, but a few days later, she reached out. Invited me to coffee, said she’d seen something that didn’t sit right with her and she couldn’t ignore it. She didn’t take no for an answer.”

Josh could already feel where this was going. “Jenna.”

“She sat across from me in this tiny café, and she said it.” His voice thinned. “That Gavin was toxic. Manipulative. Dangerous.”

Another breath, uneven now.

“She said I looked like someone trying really fucking hard not to admit he was drowning.”

He rubbed his palms together slowly. “I broke down, right there in front of her. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop crying. And she just sat with me, told me that it wasn’t my fault.”

Josh’s throat burned.

“But then I got defensive." Tyler’s voice went quieter. “Screamed at her. Told her to fuck off. To leave us alone.” He swallowed hard. The word rasped like gravel in his throat. “And then I ran straight back to Gavin.”

Something bitter flickered in his eyes. . “I hated her for being right.”

Josh couldn’t speak. He couldn’t imagine how much strength it must’ve taken to admit all of this. To lay it out under the stars like it was just another conversation.

“But she didn’t give up,” Tyler went on. “She kept showing up. At shows, on social media, leaving notes with bartenders. Nothing pushy, just like... gentle reminders that I didn’t have to stay. That she’d help me if I ever wanted out.”

He stared down at his hands. Rubbed a thumb over his palm like something itched there.

“And when I finally hit the wall... when I looked in the mirror and couldn’t recognize the person staring back, I finally called her.”

Josh was silent, hanging onto every word.

“She was there in twenty minutes,” Tyler murmured. “Showed up with a bag of snacks and a spare hoodie... and just sat on the floor while I packed everything I owned into a single duffel bag.”

“But that wasn’t the end,” his voice wavered.

He hesitated.

“Gavin didn’t let me go easy.”

"He started threatening me, blackmailing me. Tried to dig up anything he could to hurt me. And when he found out about Jenna helping me, he went after her too.”

Josh’s hands curled slightly at his sides.

“Luckily for me, Jenna’s parents are lawyers. And she wasn’t scared of the fucker... she was furious." A ghost of something, almost a smile, flashed across his face, then vanished. "So they built a case, got him arrested, restraining order... the whole deal.”

Josh let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Tyler went quiet again, then exhaled slowly.

“But I wasn’t in any shape to be grateful. I was... numb, depressed. Everything just kind of collapsed after that. The music stopped feeling like an escape and it all started leaking out in my performances. It got out of control, and so did I...”

He paused.

“The last time I ever got on stage...” His voice was thinning. “Well... you saw it. In that video.”

Josh was quiet, heart aching.

“I didn’t even remember that footage existed,” Tyler added softly. “I was barely there for it.”

Josh wanted to say a hundred things. That he admired him, that he was brave, that he was still here, still fighting. And even after everything, he was - still is an incredible person. But none of it felt big enough.

Then, after another moment of silence, Tyler spoke.

"So... now you know it all,” he murmured, eyes on his lap, fingers absently fidgeting. “It’s okay if you wanna go. I’d understand.”

Josh turned to him, stunned. “Tyler... what? What are you talking about?”

But Tyler still wouldn’t look at him.

His voice was calm in that dangerous, practiced way, like someone who had braced for impact too many times. “I mean... you took me on a date. Said you wanted to date me, right? I get it if you don’t want to anymore... After all this.”

Josh’s chest squeezed. “Tyler... please, don’t say that. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tyler finally turned to look at him, eyes dark and unreadable. “You sure? Not even after you know how..." He faltered. "...how dirty I am?” Another pause. “How many people I’ve been with?"

Josh inhaled sharply, not from shock, but from the sheer weight of how deeply Tyler believed that would be the deal-breaker.

He leaned forward, voice low but firm. “Tyler, stop.”

Tyler flinched slightly, like he wasn’t expecting the tone.

“You’re not dirty,” Josh said, slowly and clearly. “You’re someone who was manipulated, and lied to. Cornered into thinking love meant giving parts of yourself away. That doesn’t make you dirty, that makes you a survivor.”

Tyler’s jaw clenched, but his eyes flickered, and something uncertain cracked through.

“And as for how many people you’ve slept with? Jesus, Tyler. You think I give a shit about a number?” Josh let out a shaky laugh. “I’ve been around too, it’s not some fucking scorecard.”

Silence stretched between them again, but now, the air felt different. Not as cold, just... fragile. Charged with something tender and new.

Josh dropped his voice to something gentler.

“You could’ve told me nothing tonight. You didn’t owe me a damn thing. But you chose to let me in, and that means everything to me. I'm not going anywhere, Tyler.”

Tyler stared at him for a long moment, like he was trying to determine if this was some elaborate trick. Like part of him was still waiting for the rejection.

But it never came.

Josh was still there, still watching him, still here.

And the relief hit harder than any punch ever had. Harder than the panic, harder than the shame.

It hit so hard that Tyler couldn’t stop the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Couldn’t stop the way his lips trembled into a pout... not from pain this time, but from sheer, aching relief.

Relief, and gratitude, and hope.

Josh looked like he wanted to close the space between them immediately. Like some instinct in him was begging to reach out, to hold Tyler, to anchor him. But he didn’t., he didn’t want to rush it.

So instead, he just opened his arms. Quietly, patiently... He was offering, not demanding.

And Tyler moved on his own, shuffled across the blanket and folded into Josh’s arms like it was the only place left in the world he felt safe.

Josh wrapped his arms around him carefully and exhaled like he’d been holding that breath for hours.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Tyler whispered, voice cracking as he buried his face in Josh’s chest.

“Me neither,” Josh replied, offering the smallest smile. “But maybe we can figure it out... together.”

They sat like that for a long time.

No rush, no need to fill the silence, just Tyler’s breaths evening out, Josh’s thumb brushing gentle circles against his back. The moon glowing above them like it was holding its breath too.

Eventually, Tyler let out a little huff of breath, almost a laugh.

“Probably not how you imagined this date going.”

Josh chuckled, warmth returning to his voice. “I mean... I brought muffins and lemonade, so clearly I was planning to impress you.”

Tyler let out a soft, tired laugh against his chest.

“We can still eat them,” Josh added. “Call it a... a moonlit trauma picnic.”

That earned him a quiet snort.

They pulled back just enough to look at each other, both of them smiling now gently, with something new and fragile blooming between them.

Josh reached down and took Tyler’s hands in his own, thumbs stroking over his knuckles.

“Thank you, Ty,” he said, voice low but full of meaning. “For sharing all of that. For trusting me enough to tell me.”

Tyler didn’t answer with words. He just gave Josh’s hands a firm, steady squeeze.

For now, that was all he could give.

Chapter Text

Tyler hadn’t expected it to feel like this.

He’d woken up before his alarm, which wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was the quiet comfort pulsing low and steady in his chest. No panic, no shame, just... calm. A calm he didn’t fully trust yet, but one he was starting to get used to.

The night before felt kind of far away now, soft around the edges, like a dream. And yet the memory of Josh’s arms, the heat of him, the sound of his voice in the dark when he said "I’m not going anywhere."... that was still anchored somewhere deep in Tyler’s ribs.

They didn’t speak about it that morning. But Josh found him at breakfast like it was the most natural thing in the world, tray in hand, still flushed from sleep, curls sticking up on one side. He didn’t tease or flirt, he just smiled that small, private smile of his and sat down next to Tyler, like he belonged there.

Tyler didn't say much, either. But his shoulder brushed Josh’s every time one of them shifted. Their legs bumped under the bench, stayed there a beat too long, then didn’t move. Josh’s fingers grazed his when he passed the butter.

And Tyler let it all happen.

No games, no subtext, just small, quiet touches that didn’t demand anything in return.

And of course... of course nothing got past Jenna.

The moment it was time for workshop prep and the counselors scattered to their stations, she intercepted Tyler before he could disappear down the path toward the music cabin.

“So... everything going good between you two, huh?” she said casually, falling into step beside him with a look that was far too knowing.

Tyler didn’t answer at first. Just let a slow smile pull at the corner of his mouth, softer than his usual smirk, less performative. Genuine.

And then he made a quiet decision. Instead of turning toward the music room, he followed Jenna.

She glanced over her shoulder as they veered off the main path, eyes narrowing just slightly in suspicion, but she didn’t say anything. Tyler liked that about her, how she never pushed, just made room. Gave him space to close on his own terms.

They entered the stables in silence. The light was dimmer inside, filtered through dust-flecked windows and the quiet sway of the rafters. The scent of hay hung in the air. It wasn’t fully private, but it was enough. Enough to feel removed, protected. Enough to say something hard.

Jenna stepped into one of the stalls, grabbing a brush and a bucket from a hook on the wall. She started her usual rhythm, currying slow circles into the side of the chestnut mare, brushing away mud and grain like it was second nature.

Tyler leaned against the stall gate, watching her work for a moment. The steadiness of it grounded him, just a little. Then he finally spoke.

“I told him about Gavin.”

The brush paused mid-stroke.

For a second, Jenna just stood there, staring at the horse’s flank like she hadn’t heard him right. Then she slowly straightened, hand dropping to her side.

“...Shit,” she said, turning toward him. “You did?”

Tyler nodded, eyes on the straw-strewn floor. His shoes kicked at a bit of hay, his hands sliding deeper into his pockets. But there was a tiny curve to his mouth, a softness in his posture, like the words had lifted something heavy.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. And then, a breath later, almost like he was surprising himself, “Yeah, I did.”

Jenna didn’t say anything for a beat, she just looked at him.

And when she stepped forward, gear still in hand, her eyes were already misting. “Ty... that’s... huge. Are you okay?”

Tyler shifted from foot to foot, still staring at his shoes, but this time the movement wasn’t anxious, it was sheepish. He bit his lower lip, then let out a soft breath, voice smaller than usual but no less certain.

“I- yeah... more than okay, actually.”

Jenna exhaled a huge, shaky sigh, like she’d been holding it for weeks. Her shoulders dropped and her grip on the brush slackened. She blinked a few times, clearly torn between grinning and tearing up completely.

Because she knew.

She knew how hard it had been for him to say that name. She knew how many times she’d watched him freeze up at the mention of anything close. She’d carried the whole story alone for years, not because she’d wanted to, but because he had needed her to.

And now, he’d given it to someone else.

Not just anyone. Josh.

Jenna’s voice came out thick. “Tyler...”

He groaned dramatically when he saw her expression, dragging a hand over his face. “Oh no. Don’t go all emotional on me now.”

But he didn’t move when she opened the stall gate and wrapped her arms around him. If anything, he leaned in. Jenna hugged him tight, one hand cradling the back of his head like she was anchoring him there.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.

Tyler squeezed his eyes shut, nose pressing lightly into her shoulder. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he murmured back.

They stood like that for a moment, quiet and solid.

When they finally pulled apart, Tyler sniffed lightly and tried for a casual tone. “I should go. Workshop’s not gonna prep itself.”

Jenna smiled, eyes still damp, and gave his shoulder one last firm squeeze. “Go get ‘em, champ.”

And Tyler did. He walked out of the stables lighter than he had in weeks. The air smelled like hay and saddle leather and something a little like freedom.

...

Tyler was still riding a strange, weightless high from the morning, like something in him had been rearranged, but in a way that made more sense. Like breathing through a chest that wasn’t full of smoke anymore.

Josh hadn’t brought up the lakeside conversation. He hadn’t needed to. There was a new kind of awareness in the way he moved around Tyler now, almost like something sacred had passed between them.

But that was also the problem.

Because somewhere between breakfast and the afternoon game, Tyler started to notice... it wasn’t quite the same.

It was the little things.

Josh didn’t really touch him properly anymore... not the way Tyler was used to. He hovered, like someone afraid to break something delicate. When their shoulders bumped, Josh didn’t let it linger too long. When he laughed, it didn’t come with a casual hand to Tyler’s back, or a nudge against his hip. Like he was being careful.

And that wasn’t like Josh.

His usual sharp-edged and irreverent teasing had dulled. No more casually filthy remarks slipped under his breath. No more smug little jabs designed to get a rise out of him. Just soft smiles and polite conversation like they were two grown men sipping lemonade on a porch somewhere, not two emotionally repressed idiots who’d gotten each other off in every possible configuration except emotionally healthy.

At first, Tyler had let it go. He figured maybe Josh was just giving him space, which was fine. Sweet, even.

But by the time the afternoon challenge rolled around and Josh was still handling him like fine china, Tyler’s patience was wearing thin.

The challenge itself was nothing too intense. A scavenger-hunt-meets-obstacle-course, spread across the woods in pairs. The kids had fun. The counselors were supposed to be helping them navigate it, but Tyler wasn’t even doing much... just walking alongside his group, pointing things out and keeping score.

And maybe it was the fact that the game was so low-stakes, that he didn’t really have to focus that hard. Or maybe the universe just hated him enough to hand him a brand new problem the moment he finally let go of an old one.

It wasn’t dramatic or anything... just a loose patch of moss, a slight slope, a moment of distraction.

His foot twisted sideways under him with a muted crunch, and before he could process what happened, he was stumbling. The pain was sharp, hot, immediate.

Tyler stumbled toward the edge of the trail, half-hopping until he hit the grass and dropped down hard, bracing himself with both hands. He bent his leg, hissing as soon as he touched the swelling. His fingers hovered, unsure what would hurt more... pressing down or just leaving it alone. He exhaled shakily and stayed where he was, grounded by pain and the sinking sense of fuck, what now?

His group caught up first, kids crowding in with breathless voices. “What happened?” “Are you okay?” He opened his mouth to answer-

-but another voice beat him to it.

“Hey... what happened?” Josh.

Tyler didn’t even have time to groan before the kids lost interest at the sight of another adult and scattered like pigeons toward camp, already dreaming of lake swims and sugar rushes.

He stared after them for a beat, then made a decision... He was going to stand and walk it off. Pride first, pain later. No way was he going to sit there like a helpless idiot while Josh looked at him like he was about to break.

He braced a hand against the tree, got one foot under him, then pushed up slowly, teeth gritted. For a second, he thought he might manage it, but then he put weight on the bad foot. Pain shot up his leg, he stumbled with a sharp inhale... and suddenly, Josh was there.

“Hey... whoa, I got you-”

Tyler’s arm was around Josh’s shoulder before he could argue, Josh’s hand catching him gently at the waist.

Well... At least no one else was around to see this. They were alone, trailing at the back of the group, the kids and other counselors were already far ahead on the path back to camp.

Josh tried to help him forward, slow and steady, and Tyler could feel it again... that same maddening gentleness. Josh’s grip wasn’t secure enough to actually help, more like a ghost of support. His hand barely pressed into Tyler’s side, as if Tyler might shatter if held too tightly.

And maybe that’s what finally did it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tyler snapped, wrenching his arm off Josh’s shoulder. He staggered slightly but caught himself on a tree.

Josh froze. “What-? Ty-?”

“Can you just...” Tyler waved a hand in the air, frustration radiating off him. “Can you stop with this bullshit?”

Josh’s eyes went wide, hurt flashing across his face. “Stop what?”

“This!” Tyler pointed at him, then let his hand fall, breath coming short. “This whole ‘treating me like I’m made of glass’ thing.”

Josh blinked, stunned. “I was just trying to help-”

“Yeah, well you’re not helping,” Tyler said, voice rough now. “You’re hovering, you’re walking on eggshells. You’re handling me like I’m gonna fall apart if you so much as touch me.”

Josh stepped back instinctively, hands raised in defense. “I just... I didn’t wanna hurt you.”

Tyler exhaled sharply. “I don’t need you to treat me like I’m breakable. I need you to treat me like me.” He paused, voice dropping. “Just fucking... grab me properly.”

They stared at each other, the air thick between them.

And those words did something.

Josh’s face shifted, something behind his eyes sparked, like a match struck too close to dry grass. The softness melted and what replaced it was darker, sharper, more familiar.

“Oh...” Josh said, a slow realization curling through his voice. “Oh.”

Tyler knew that look. That voice. It shot through him like a live wire, short-circuiting whatever logic was left in his brain.

Josh took a step forward, slow and deliberate.

“That what you want?” he asked, voice lower now, rougher. “You want me to grab you properly?”

Tyler’s pulse jumped.

Josh closed the space between them, eyes locked on his. “You want me to hold you tight?” he murmured. “Throw you around a little, like you weigh nothing?”

Tyler swallowed as heat rushed to his face. His ankle still throbbed, but it was drowned out now by the very real, very present ache blooming lower in his stomach.

Josh leaned in, voice just a breath away from his ear. “You want me to do whatever I want with you?”

Tyler’s breath stuttered. His mouth was dry. His pupils were blown wide, body going warm all over.

And then... Josh stepped back, smirking.

“Very well,” he said, and without warning, ducked down, grabbed Tyler around the waist, and threw him over his shoulder in one swift motion.

Tyler yelped. “Josh, what the-”

“Hold on tight, fragile boy,” Josh said, already walking.

Tyler smacked at his back with his hand. “You’re such an asshole.”

Josh laughed, loud and unbothered. “You told me to grab you properly.”

“I swear to God... I’ll file a formal complaint.”

“You gonna write me up, counselor?”

“You’re gonna regret this.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

Tyler huffed against his back, trying not to laugh, but it cracked anyway... laughter bubbling up and spilling out, helpless and real.

“Put me down, you twat,” he said, breathless.

Josh just adjusted his grip and kept walking, and neither of them said anything for a while after that.

Because they were both grinning too hard.

...

They emerged from the woods like a scene out of a very poorly directed camp comedy. And Tyler, flung over Josh’s shoulder like a sack of grain, was not quiet about it.

“Put me down,” he grumbled for the fifth time, voice muffled against Josh’s back. “This is undignified. I am a counselor, an educator.”

“You’re a menace, is what you are,” Josh replied cheerfully, adjusting his grip like he was hauling firewood and not a full-grown man. “Besides, I’m doing exactly what you asked.”

“I asked you to grab me properly, not treat me like stolen luggage.”

Josh just laughed, full and bright, not the least bit apologetic. He waved with his free hand at a couple of kids still lingering near the main path. One of them snorted. Another elbowed their friend and pointed, whispering something that earned a round of hushed giggles.

“Oh great,” Tyler muttered. “Now I’m a camp meme.”

Josh just grinned harder. He was beaming, actually. Like he was showing off... like carrying Tyler in front of people was less about helping and more about claiming. There was a spring in his step, a smug gleam in his eye. He looked like someone who’d just caught a legendary fish and couldn’t wait to show it to everyone.

Tyler groaned into his shirt. “This is not how I wanted my legacy preserved.”

“Too late now,” Josh said brightly. “We’re rewriting your origin story. You’re not mysterious and brooding anymore, you’re the hot counselor who gets carted around like royalty.”

“I’m gonna tell Jenna you said that.”

“I hope you do.”

They rounded the final bend and the infirmary came into view, tucked between the admin building and the garden shed, shaded by old oaks. The camp nurse, a gentle-eyed woman named Maddy, looked up from where she was sitting on the porch just in time to see them approaching.

She blinked. Then raised an eyebrow.

Josh gave a two-fingered salute as he jogged the last few steps. “Delivery!”

Tyler groaned. “Oh, kill me.”

Josh finally, mercifully, set him down on the wooden bench just outside the door. Tyler winced as his foot hit the ground, and immediately lifted it again.

Maddy didn’t waste time. “What happened?”

“Tripped in the woods,” Tyler muttered. “I’m fine.”

“He’s not fine,” Josh added helpfully. “But he’s very brave. And extremely dramatic.”

“I hate you,” Tyler informed him.

“You’re welcome,” Josh said sweetly.

Maddy shook her head and gestured Tyler inside. “Come on, let’s take a look at it. And you,” she added, pointing at Josh, “go fetch some ice. ...And maybe a less inflated ego.”

Josh gave her a mock bow and winked at Tyler before heading off. Tyler exhaled and leaned back against the infirmary wall, watching him go.

His ankle throbbed, his pride was bruised, and yet... his lips wouldn’t stop twitching upward.

Because Josh was being Josh again. And that, more than anything, felt like a win.

Inside, the infirmary was pleasantly cool. The fan by the window hummed softly, stirring the faint scent of antiseptic and mint tea. Tyler sat on the edge of the exam table, sock rolled down, foot resting gingerly on Maddy’s lap while she examined the swelling.

He kept trying not to look like he cared.

“You’re lucky,” she said after a moment, pressing her thumbs gently around the joint. “Nothing’s broken, probably just a mild twist. You’ve got good reflexes.”

“Fantastic,” Tyler muttered. “Reflexes I can’t use while sitting on my ass.”

She gave him a look.

Tyler sighed and leaned back on his palms, staring at the ceiling tiles. “Is it bad I’m more upset about that than the injury itself?”

“No,” she said simply. “But that doesn’t mean I’m letting you back out there.”

“But-”

“Tyler.” She tilted her head. “Pushing through stuff like this isn't about toughness, it's about ego.”

Tyler groaned dramatically. “It’s not ego... it’s strategy. There’s a trophy at stake.”

“And yet your team will survive one challenge without you.”

He didn’t answer.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open and Josh appeared, holding a ziplock bag of ice in one hand and a Gatorade in the other like he was making an offering to some cranky god.

“Miss me?” he asked.

“No,” Tyler said.

“Yes,” Maddy corrected.

Josh smirked and crossed the room, setting the ice gently against Tyler’s ankle. “Still hot?” he asked.

“Me or my foot?”

“Yes.”

Tyler snorted but didn’t swat him away. Josh stood close now, leaning casually against the counter beside the exam table, sipping from the Gatorade he’d clearly bought for himself. Tyler watched the flex of his jaw as he drank, the slope of his collarbone under the slightly damp neckline of his t-shirt.

God, he was attractive even at his most annoying.

“So what’s the verdict?” Josh asked after a beat.

Maddy was wrapping Tyler’s ankle in a soft brace. “He’s benched. No games tomorrow.”

Josh made a theatrical gasp. “You mean I might actually have a chance to win another one?”

“Careful,” Tyler muttered. “I may be injured, but I’m not above sabotage.”

Josh grinned. “What.. you gonna bribe my kids with marshmallows?”

“I plead the fifth.”

Maddy stood and patted Tyler’s shoulder. “Keep the brace on for the rest of the day, ice it again before bed. Put it back on tomorrow. It’ll be sore, but it should pass in a day or two.”

Tyler nodded, trying not to look too disappointed. “Thanks.”

She gave him a soft smile before slipping out, leaving them alone.

Josh nudged his knee. “Hey.”

Tyler looked up.

“You’re still a hot mentor,” Josh said, voice low and teasing. “Even if you’re off the field for a bit.”

Tyler rolled his eyes. “Go away.”

“I would,” Josh said, eyes dancing, “but your stunning resemblance to an injured gazelle keeps drawing me back.”

Tyler huffed, but his lips twitched. He leaned back against the table and let the quiet settle for a moment.

...

The fire cracked lazily in the center of camp, low and slow, casting gold onto the faces gathered around it. Most of the kids had already drifted off toward the cabins or were lying sprawled on picnic blankets nearby, exhausted from the day.

Tyler sat on a bench a little off to the side, his leg propped on a log, ankle wrapped in its brace. Someone had given him a soda and one of the leftover marshmallows, but he hadn’t touched either. He was too busy sulking.

He hated sitting still.

All he could do was watch.

And apparently, there was some invisible force now, that made it almost impossible for him to watch anyone but Josh... of course.

He was glowing in the firelight. Shirtless for no discernible reason, laughing too loud at someone’s joke, firelight catching in the hollow of his throat like it was trying to start a whole new blaze.

Tyler scowled and looked away.

It wasn’t just the shirtlessness. Or the way Josh’s arm muscles flexed every time he shifted on the log. Or the fact that his voice carried in this low, bright way that made people naturally want to listen.

It was the fact that Josh hadn’t even looked at him in the last fifteen minutes.

Tyler knew that wasn’t fair. Knew Josh was probably just giving him space again. But space felt different when you were watching the person you liked toss kindling onto a fire and get glittered in sweat and praise.

Josh threw his head back laughing at something Jenna said, and Tyler made a strangled sound in his throat.

Debby, who had somehow appeared next to him without warning, raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

“No,” Tyler said flatly.

She followed his gaze to the other side of the fire, then nodded slowly. “Ah.”

Tyler sighed. “Can he stop being so-” He gestured vaguely, voice too low to carry. “-fucking good-looking? I can’t even kick him right now.”

Debby snorted into her drink.

At that moment, Josh finally looked over and their eyes locked. He blinked, then smiled. It was small, just the corner of his mouth, but it was the kind of smile that traveled straight to Tyler’s chest, through his spine, and down his already ruined leg.

Tyler looked away first.

A few minutes later, as the group started to thin, Josh circled around the fire and dropped down next to him without a word. Shirt still off, of course.

Tyler stared at the flames. “You’re very... annoying.”

Josh shrugged. “And you’re very injured. I mean... you still look good in that ankle brace, though.”

Tyler narrowed his eyes, even more annoyed. “Yeah, you know... that coming from someone who looks like a Greek god when they take their shirt off? I should probably take that as an insult.”

Josh laughed, surprised. “Jesus. I should’ve taken my shirt off sooner if that’s what you think of me.”

Tyler rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Josh’s grin lingered, but then something shifted behind it... something quieter. He looked back toward the fire. “I wasn’t always like this. Confident, I mean.”

Tyler’s brow furrowed and he looked at Josh, gaze softening.

Josh hesitated, then added, “Yeah... there were times I hated taking my shirt off.”

“Seriously?” Tyler asked, voice low.

Josh didn’t smile this time. His eyes were fixed on the fire. “Yeah. All through high school. And after, too.”

Tyler watched him, the heat of the fire warming one side of his face, the weight of Josh’s words warming the other.

His expression softened. “Why?”

Josh exhaled slowly, the firelight dancing across his bare shoulders. “I was... pretty messed up about how I looked. Started as just wanting to bulk up a bit, get more defined. Then it got obsessive. Counting everything, overexercising. I’d look in the mirror and still think I looked soft, weak. I started resenting myself for it.”

Tyler’s stomach twisted.

“I was never diagnosed formally,” Josh went on, voice quiet now. “But it got bad. I lost a lot of weight. I had no energy.”

Tyler’s hands curled loosely in his lap. “What stopped it?”

Josh tilted his head. “I got to a point where I couldn't even get through a whole gig without feeling like I’d pass out. " Josh paused. "And then my mom sat me down and told me I looked... hollow. Said I didn’t laugh the same. And that kind of broke me.”

He smiled, faint and sad. “I thought I was doing everything right, you know? Discipline, willpower... but I’d forgotten how to enjoy anything.”

Tyler didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

Josh looked over at him then, just slightly, and added, “I still have days where it’s hard. When I look in the mirror and don’t like what I see. Usually happens when I start looking for validation outside myself and don’t find it. I have to remind myself that it comes from the inside. I’m still learning.”

He didn’t mention that this was probably why he was always so friendly with everyone. Why he flirted so easily. Why he needed people to like him. And he definitely didn’t mention how Tyler’s words during his breakdown had hit exactly where it hurt most. He didn’t say any of it... because right now, it didn’t feel important.

Tyler’s voice was soft. “I didn’t know that.”

Josh shrugged. “Yeah... not something I lead with.”

There was a long pause. The kind that wasn’t awkward, just... honest.

Tyler yawned softly before shifting and nudging Josh’s knee with his own. “Well…” he murmured, voice warm despite the rasp, “for what it’s worth... I like the way you look now.”

Josh glanced at him, expression unreadable.

“I mean it,” Tyler added, blinking slowly. “You’re strong. Not just...” Another yawn caught him mid-sentence, and he groaned as he tried to swallow it down. “Not just your muscles... though, yeah, those are a little... unfair.”

Josh chuckled low in his throat. “Yeah? Want me to use that strength to carry you to bed, sleepy?”

Tyler stared at him for a second, weighing something invisible in the space between them. Then, finally, he nodded once. “You know what? I’m actually gonna take you up on that.”

Josh didn’t hesitate, he turned and crouched down in front of him, patting his back. “Hop on, counselor.”

Tyler let out a tired huff of a laugh, adjusted his brace, and carefully climbed onto Josh’s back. Arms looped around his shoulders, legs locked loose around his waist.

And Josh just... carried him.

Through the quiet dark, past flickering porch lights and wind-chimed cabins. Tyler rested his cheek against Josh’s shoulder, breathing in his warmth, his skin, his shampoo. Every breath steadied something in him. Every step made the ache in his leg feel smaller.

Josh didn’t say a word, he just held on and walked, like Tyler was the most natural weight in the world.

When they reached Tyler’s cabin, Josh climbed the two porch steps without so much as a grunt and gently set him back down. Tyler’s feet touched the wooden planks, body leaning slightly to the side, but before he could step away, Josh turned around.

Their bodies were still close.

Tyler’s breath caught.

It wasn’t just the physical proximity, it was the way everything around them seemed to shift. The night, the quiet, the very air itself. Josh was looking at him with an expression Tyler hadn’t seen in a while. Open and bare, something almost reverent flickering behind his eyes. Like he was standing in front of a moment he didn’t want to ruin by breathing too hard.

They didn’t speak, but the silence between them was full. Brimming with the ache of everything they hadn’t said in weeks. And everything they had.

Josh’s gaze dipped to Tyler’s mouth, and the heat landed like a low, all-consuming pulse. He could feel the want rolling off Josh. A deep, burning pull straining to close the last few inches between them. But he could also see the war happening behind his eyes... the hesitation. The silent question of Is this the right time?

Tyler wished... God, he willed Josh to decide that it was.

Then Josh’s voice finally broke the stillness. Low, careful, steady.

“Ty... Can I kiss you?”

Tyler’s eyes darkened instantly. They flicked down to Josh’s lips, then back up, and he licked his own with a sharp inhale. “I swear to God, if you don’t-”

But Josh didn’t let him finish.

He was already there, already pressing their mouths together in a kiss that felt like it had taken a thousand years to earn.

It wasn’t soft, not really. It was full.

Full of weeks of near-misses and too-long stares. Full of pent-up tension, and the hush of shared secrets, and the quiet understanding that they might never say or do everything perfectly... but they were trying.

Josh’s hands found Tyler’s jaw, cradling it like something precious, thumbs sweeping the edges of his cheekbones. Tyler’s grip landed at Josh’s waist, fingers curling into his skin like he might fall without him.

And the kiss deepened.

Josh tilted his head, one hand sliding back to the nape of Tyler’s neck as he pressed forward, gently but with force. Tyler’s back hit the cabin door with a muted thump, and he let it happen, let himself sink into the kiss like it could hold all of him.

Their mouths moved together in a rhythm that was messy and slow and so goddamn felt. A low sound escaped Tyler’s throat, and Josh swallowed it down like he’d been starving for it.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads met in the middle, soft and shaking from the sheer gravity of the kiss.

They stayed like that, breathing hard, eyes closed, skin humming. The only sound was the creak of the porch settling and the night holding its breath around them.

Tyler’s mind was blank... no walls, no witty comebacks, no carefully timed exits. Just the lingering imprint of Josh’s mouth and the terrifying calm that followed. He felt cracked open and raw. Like something inside him had been touched for the first time in a long time and didn’t quite know what to do with the contact.

He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to speak, he just wanted to stay right here, forehead pressed to Josh’s, and pretend, just for a second, that this could be easy.

Then, after a long, quiet moment, Josh whispered, “Want me to carry you to bed, too?”

There was no edge to it. No teasing, no hidden intention. Not this time.

Just kindness, softness... just Josh.

Tyler blinked up at him, dazed and flushed. His fingers twitched where they were still curled in Josh’s shirt. And then he smiled... small, wry, a little sad. He looked Josh in the eye, bit down gently on his lower lip, and shook his head.

“No,” he said softly. “If I let you inside... I’m not sure I’d be able to let you go."

Josh flushed immediately. That slow-blooming pink that crept up his chest, blooming high on his cheeks. His breath hitched.

“Okay,” he whispered. Just that...

He didn’t say more, didn’t push, just stepped back slowly, eyes lingering on Tyler’s face like he was memorizing it.

Tyler opened the door and looked over his shoulder one last time, lips parted like he almost changed his mind.

But he didn’t.

Not yet.

Chapter Text

Tyler hated how slow he moved.

He hated the uneven rhythm of his footsteps, the way one leg dragged slightly behind the other like he was an injured animal. Hated the dull pain in his right foot every time it touched the ground, and the useless ache in his left when he tried to compensate. Most of all, he hated the way people looked at him... like he was breakable. Like he wasn’t the guy who’d been leading the counselor scoreboard all summer.

And worst of all… he couldn’t even play piano properly.

He’d tried that morning... sat at the old upright in the music cabin while the kids were still at breakfast, hoping to find out it was fine, that he could play. But he couldn’t. His left foot couldn’t find the sustain pedal without hunting for it, couldn’t press it down in time, couldn’t feel it in sync with the keys. Every other note sounded clipped, sterile and just... wrong.

He slammed the cover down, harder than necessary, and limped out before anyone could stop by and ask him what was wrong.

But that wasn’t the end of it. Because then came the jokes from the other counselors.

“Can we get you a cane, grandpa?” or "Tyler, maybe you should just sit on the sidelines and look pretty.”

All jokes, all harmless... And normally, he’d throw something back just as quick, match their tone, act unbothered. But today, it sank in like lead.

He didn’t feel pretty. He didn’t feel funny.

He just felt useless.

The frustration only built throughout the day, eventually reaching its peak when he met with his kids to give them tips and props for the upcoming game. The one he wouldn't be able to run with them.

He was sitting on the back porch steps of the cabin, elbow braced on his knee, thumb pressed against the ridge of his brow like he could rub the tension out. His kids were at the mess hall, filling up bottles with water, and his team would soon be lining up for the challenge without him, and Josh...

He didn’t want to think about Josh right now. For many different reasons...

Tyler exhaled slowly through his nose, trying to breathe around the frustration. That was when he heard the steps.

“You sulking?” Jenna’s voice was soft but knowing.

“I’m-” He looked up, caught the raise of her brow, and deflated. “Yeah.”

She lowered herself onto the step beside him with the kind of ease that made him feel even stiffer. Like she belonged in this stillness, like she’d been expecting to find him exactly here.

“You know your kids are amazing, right?” she said, gently nudging his shoulder with hers. “They’re gonna do great, even without you... you’ve trained them well.”

Tyler didn’t answer at first. His jaw flexed and his eyes stayed forward.

“I know,” he muttered eventually. “I gave them all the prep notes, split the teams, assigned a runner to handle last-minute calls. I’ve done everything I can.”

“And?”

He shook his head, lips pursed. “Doesn’t feel like enough.”

There was a quiet between them then... not awkward, just thick. Jenna let it settle.

Part of her wanted to say what everyone else was thinking... that it was just a game. That the trophy didn’t really mean anything. That Tyler was being a little dramatic about the whole thing. But she knew better. She knew that if she said any of that out loud, his frustration would skyrocket and the rest of the conversation would be dead on arrival.

So she chose compassion instead.

“I get it,” she said finally. “But this doesn’t erase anything, it’s just one game. You’re still the counselor they look up to, and your team is still leading the board.”

“Hm.. maybe not for long,” Tyler mumbled. “Josh is right behind me.”

“Right behind,” she agreed with a little smirk. “Which means you’re still ahead.”

He let out a quiet huff. Somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

Jenna nudged him again. “Look, I know this sucks, but your team’s strong. They’ll carry this one for you. And you’ll be back in the game before you know it.”

He nodded slowly, dragging a hand down his face.

“I just-” He paused, sighed. “God, I am being a drama queen, aren't I? I just… I hate this feeling of uselessness.”

Jenna turned toward him. Her expression softened in that way only she could do... like she saw every version of him at once and didn’t flinch at any of them.

“Yeah, you are,” she said with a quiet laugh. “But I get it... You’re not great at standing still, especially when you care this much.”

He gave her a tired smile, sheepish, like maybe he knew she was right.

Jenna leaned in, resting her shoulder gently against his. “You’re allowed to be frustrated, Ty. Just don’t forget everything you’ve already done for those kids. They’ll remember that. Even if you’re not the one leading them into the woods today.”

He was quiet for a beat, letting the words settle.

Then he muttered, “They better win.”

“They better,” she echoed, teasing. “Or I’m switching teams.”

That pulled a real laugh from him... small, reluctant, but real.

“Traitor,” he mumbled.

Jenna just bumped her shoulder into his again. “Just saying... don’t make me regret betting on you.”

...

They didn’t win.

Tyler watched the teams return to camp from the sidelines, perched on a bench near the counselor cabins with his injured foot elevated on a crate. His kids’ faces didn’t look victorious. They weren’t defeated either, but the celebration was short-lived and unenthusiastic when they came to find him.

He’d done everything right. Prepped them all like a drill sergeant, gave them the clearest instructions, double-checked their strategy, handed out backup plans like candy.

It didn’t matter...They came in second.

Which would’ve been fine. Respectable, even. If it hadn’t been Josh’s team that came in first.

Of course it was Josh’s team. Of course he was the one leading the victory chant as the kids poured back into camp all hyped and sun-flushed. And of course he looked good doing it, shirt half-tucked into his athletic shorts, hair wild, cheeks flushed, eyes bright like he lived off adrenaline and smug satisfaction.

Tyler clenched his jaw and looked away.

He hated this. That he could barely move, that he couldn't contribute, and that people kept asking, “How’s the foot?” or patting his shoulder like he was a retiree with a legacy to uphold.

But most of all, he hated how much he wanted to cry about it. He’d worked his ass off to pull ahead in the rankings this session. He had the win in his sights, and then... bam... stupid twisted ankle, stupid splint, stupid inability to pedal his damn piano properly.

And now Josh had the nerve to win.

Josh, who didn’t even have the decency to be humble about it. Josh, who was probably still flushed from running and panting and glowing under his stupid golden boy halo of charm.

Tyler scowled into the middle distance, sulking like a kid whose favorite toy had been taken away.

He didn’t move from his spot until the groups had dispersed, until the kids and most of the counselors had headed down to the lake to take a well deserved swim, the last big activity of the day.

That’s when Josh showed up.

Tyler didn’t even hear the footsteps approaching until a familiar shadow fell over his good leg.

“Hey,” came Josh’s voice, soft and annoyingly pleasant. “Didn’t see you by the lake.”

Tyler looked up, and immediately regretted it.

Josh stood in front of him, shirtless again, skin sun-warmed and gleaming, the faint line of sweat trailing down his sternum making Tyler want to do something deeply inappropriate and fully unsanctioned by camp protocol. His hair was messy, the kind of messy that begged to be tugged on, and his grin...

Okay. No. Stop it.

Tyler’s mouth went dry. He blinked up with narrowed eyes. “Congratulations on your pity win.”

Josh tilted his head, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “What?”

“You heard me,” Tyler snapped. “Bet it felt real good knowing your only real competition was sidelined.”

Josh’s brows knit together, the grin faltering just slightly. “Tyler...”

“Spare me the sympathy,” Tyler said. “I’ve got enough pity floating around already.”

“I wasn’t-” Josh cut himself off. “I just came to check on you... You alright?”

“Oh, I’m peachy,” Tyler muttered, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “Just sitting here, basking in the glory of mediocrity and joint inflammation.”

Josh gave him a look. “Ugh.. you’re impossible.”

Tyler crossed his arms. “And you’re smug.”

“I’m not smug,” Josh said, stepping closer now. “You’re just pissy because you didn’t get to wipe the floor with me today.”

Tyler looked up sharply, heat sparking, and his brain momentarily short-circuited.

Oh, he could wipe the floor with Josh, alright. Just... not in the context Josh meant. The image that flashed through his brain had a lot less to do with game strategy and a lot more to do with Josh on his knees, flushed and breathless, begging for a very different kind of mercy.

“You think I wouldn’t have?” he said, sharper than he meant.

Josh smirked. “Oh, I know you wouldn’t have.”

And okay... this thing growing inside Tyler? It was getting a little out of hand.

Not just the irritation and bruised pride, but something deeper. The frustration transformed into something messier, something that curled in his stomach and made him want to do things that had nothing to do with competition. Things downright inappropriate. Things he shouldn’t even be thinking about right now.

And he knew it was kind of pathetic... That if he gave into it now, let it slip, it might just make him look weaker. Like all Josh had to do was win once and Tyler would come undone.

So he scoffed instead. “Big talk for someone who lost to me literally every session.”

Josh, blissfully unaware of the war happening inside Tyler, just raised a brow and folded his arms across his bare chest ... a move that did not help Tyler’s focus. “Please... You’re all flair and tantrums. I’ve got strategy.”

“Oh, so you’re a mastermind now?”

Josh leaned in a fraction. “All I’m saying is, maybe being off your feet saved you from a public humiliation.”

Tyler’s breath caught, his eyes narrowed into something sharp, something hungry.

And fuck, he was thinking about humiliating things too... just not the kind that had anything to do with losing camp games. Not the kind you could bounce back from with a rematch. He was thinking about humiliation that would make that golden-boy smirk fall apart in real time.

And he couldn’t help it anymore. He just... wanted. He stood slowly from the bench, somehow managing to keep his weight on his good foot while holding eye contact.

“Oh yeah?” he said, voice low. “You seem so full of wisdom suddenly... why don’t you say that into my mouth?”

The words hung there, thick and heavy.

The air shifted.

Josh blinked, his gaze dropped, flicked down to Tyler’s lips, then back up slowly. “Tyler...”

But Tyler wasn’t backing down. His breath hitched slightly, his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed like a challenge. “Come on,” he said, voice husky. “Thought you were feeling brave.”

And finally, it was obvious that they weren’t talking about the game anymore. That challenge in Tyler’s voice wasn’t about strategy or scoreboard points, it was about the tension crackling so loud between them it felt like a live wire waiting for a spark. He wasn’t goading Josh into another round of banter, he was daring him to act.

Josh’s pupils widened. And Tyler saw it. He saw the exact moment the switch flipped behind Josh’s eyes, when playful defiance turned into something darker and heavier. The banter slipped, the teasing dropped, and what was left was hunger.

Josh’s voice dropped, rough and low. "You’re playing with fire.”

“Good,” Tyler said, sharp and breathless. “I’m freezing.”

Josh stepped in, closer than he should’ve. Closer than anyone had a right to be when they were standing in the middle of camp... even if it was empty, even if everyone was at the lake. They were inches apart. One slight lean and their mouths would touch, one reckless second and the whole thing would detonate.

Josh’s voice came out as a murmur now, deep and taunting.

“You wanna throw punches, or throw me down?”

The image that hit Tyler wasn’t even subtle. Josh flat on his back, flushed and wrecked and begging, their clothes half-on, half-torn... It hit so fast and so vivid it knocked the air out of him. And Josh saw it flicker behind his eyes, he saw the way Tyler’s breath hitched and his pupils blew wide.

The fire between them spiked even more. It turned into the kind of tension that wasn’t going to resolve with words. They were both breathing heavy now, barely restrained, staring at each other like they wanted to tear something open.

It wasn’t a question of if anymore. Just when.

And Tyler couldn't take it anymore, it was him who broke the silence.

“Take me to my cabin, Josh.”

Josh blinked again. “Wait, what-”

Tyler leaned in slightly, voice tight. “Take me to my fucking cabin. Now.”

Josh’s nostrils flared. For a split second, he hesitated, visibly wrestling with the last shred of control, like there was still time to be decent and respectful.

But then he gave in.

With one last glance around to make sure no one was nearby, Josh bent down and, in one swift motion, lifted Tyler by the thighs, cradling him like a prize. Tyler’s arms hooked around his shoulders instantly, breath catching as their bodies collided in the heat of it all. Josh grunted softly under the weight, but there was no question he could carry it. Carry Tyler.

Tyler clung tighter, legs hooking around Josh's hips and fingers digging into the bare muscle of Josh’s back. “You better not drop me.”

Josh’s grin was feral. “You weigh nothing, baby. I could carry you anywhere.”

He didn’t say another word as he carried him, striding across the short path like a man on a mission, focused and furious in the best way. Tyler could feel the muscles in his back shifting, the tension in his arms, the sharp heat in his breath. His own heart pounded, blood loud in his ears.

Then they reached the cabin. Josh climbed the porch steps in two strides, braced Tyler’s weight into one hand so he could yank the door open with the other, and stepped inside. And the second the door slammed shut behind them, he was pressing Tyler back against it, pinning him there with the full weight of his body, hands sliding higher up Tyler’s thighs until they gripped tight, fingers digging in.

Their mouths were just inches apart, breath mingling, hot and fast.

Tyler grabbed a fistful of his curls and pulled Josh the remaining distance forward.

Josh let out a low, feral sound against Tyler's mouth, and that was it. The last restraint gone.

They crashed into each other like the past few weeks had all been leading here, like they hadn’t already kissed last night, like this was the one that really counted. The one that said we’re back... no more pretending, no more space, no more slow.

It was messy, breathless, and violent in the way it undid them both.

Tyler’s head hit the wood paneling of the door, hard enough to make it rattle, but he didn’t care, didn’t stop. They kissed like they were starved. Josh’s mouth moved hungrily against his, teeth dragging over Tyler’s lower lip. The grip on Tyler’s thighs tightening like he was trying to hold on through a storm.

Tyler groaned, grabbed Josh by the back of the neck, and pulled him even closer... though there was really nowhere left to go. But he wanted the weight. He needed to feel Josh’s solid chest against his, hips flush, thighs pressing between his. He rutted up without meaning to, a slow, desperate grind, and Josh growled, low in his throat.

“Fuck,” Tyler gasped between kisses. “Yes... this, fuck, Josh-”

Josh kissed him harder, teeth flashing, tongue licking deep like he wanted to swallow the sounds right out of his mouth. And Tyler let him. He needed to be taken apart.

But he wasn’t surrendering entirely.

He slid one hand into Josh’s curls and yanked hard, wrenching Josh’s head back and exposing the long line of his throat. Josh moaned loudly, lips parting, and his body stuttered against Tyler’s.

Tyler grinned, dark and breathless, and dove in. “Gotta be quiet, Joshie,” he whispered against the skin of his neck, just before he bit down. Not hard enough to bruise, but close. “Unless you wanna give the entire camp a free show.”

Josh cursed again, voice muffled in Tyler’s hair.

They were a mess already, breaths ragged, touches frantic. Josh’s hands were sliding along the length of Tyler's thighs, up to his ass, kneading and squeezing, still somehow keeping him lifted as Tyler’s legs stayed locked around his waist.

Tyler rocked forward just to feel more of Josh, to feel that strong body press back into his, chest to chest, hips aligned, everything rightfor once. The answering grind of Josh’s hips made him gasp.

And still... It wasn't enough.

“Get on the bed,” Tyler rasped, voice rough and low.

Josh didn’t hesitate. He kept his arms locked around Tyler’s thighs and stepped backward, crossing the room in a few sure strides before sitting heavily on the edge of the mattress with Tyler still in his lap. Tyler braced his knees, feeling the give of the bed beneath them, and shoved at Josh’s chest until he fell back with a grunt.

Tyler followed him down.

His mouth crashed back onto Josh’s, then dragged lower, across his jaw, down his throat, over the slope of his collarbone. He didn’t linger, just kept moving, fueled by the raw ache he’d been carrying for days. He bit, he licked, he sucked sharp pink marks into Josh’s skin. And when he reached Josh’s chest, he paused only long enough to flick his tongue across one nipple, watching Josh’s whole body twitch.

Tyler grinned and ground his hips down, slow, but deliberate, and the sound Josh made was worth everything.

“Fuck... Tyler,” Josh hissed.

“Yeah?” Tyler panted, lips parted, breath hot over Josh’s ribs.

Josh looked at him, eyes completely blown, jaw slack with awe and arousal. He gripped Tyler’s hips, grounding himself.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

Tyler just smirked, leaning down again to kiss him hard, open-mouthed... all tongue and teeth and possession. And then he was shifting, sliding down Josh’s body without warning, fingers hooking in the waistband of his shorts.

He tugged... one smooth, practiced motion and Josh was bare, cock flushed and hard and so fucking perfect it made Tyler stop and stare, licking his lips like a man gone feral.

“Fuck,” Tyler breathed, reverent. “I missed your cock.”

And then he devoured him.

No teasing, no warm-up, just lips stretching, jaw opening, breath exhaled through his nose as he took Josh deep and sudden and hungry.

Josh arched clean off the bed with a strangled moan.

“Jesus... fuck- Ty-” he bit off the rest, one hand flying to Tyler’s hair, gripping tight but not pulling, the other buried above his head in the sheets like he needed something to anchor him.

Tyler moaned around him, the vibration making Josh curse again, hips twitching helplessly. He was already wrecked, flushed and shuddering and glassy-eyed, and Tyler hadn’t even started.

And Tyler really went for it. His lips stretched wide, jaw relaxing as he took Josh in deep, until the thick head of his cock nudged the back of his throat. He breathed steadily through his nose, eyes fluttering shut in focus, in pleasure, like he was savoring the sensation just as much as Josh was.

Josh whimpered. A sharp, broken sound that shattered any composure he had left. He didn’t care who might hear them, didn’t care about anything except the heat, and the slick, relentless rhythm.

His thighs trembled beneath Tyler’s hands. His abs clenched and jumped every time Tyler swallowed around him. And when Tyler pulled back slowly, tongue dragging along the underside of his cock before sliding down again with more force, Josh’s head dropped back against the mattress with a loud thud.

“Oh my- Fuck, Tyler...” His voice was strangled, ruined.

He couldn’t stay still, couldn’t stop the way his hips twitched upward, chasing more of that wet heat, even when he tried to hold himself back. One hand was fisted tight in the sheets now, the other buried in Tyler’s hair, not guiding, just holding, like he needed something to keep him tethered to this reality.

He was unraveling. Right there, right then, chest heaving, eyes wild, every muscle locked tight with restraint. Like if Tyler kept going for even another minute, he’d spill without warning.

Which is exactly why Tyler pulled off.

Josh let out a sound that could only be described as a high-pitched whine, wrecked and wanting, his hips chasing the loss of contact. But Tyler was already shuffling backward, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and determined and fucking gone.

He stood just long enough to drag his shorts down his legs, hissing quietly when his injured foot touched the floor wrong, but he didn’t stop. Just kicked the fabric aside, revealing himself... flushed and hard and aching.

Josh stared... he looked like he wanted to get on his knees and worship, but all he managed was a hoarse, “Jesus.”

Tyler didn’t respond, he just climbed back into Josh’s lap, planted both knees on either side of his hips, and leaned forward to kiss him again, all wet and messy.

Then he broke away with a gasp and brought three fingers to his lips, sucking them deep, coating them slick with spit. He held Josh’s gaze the whole time, eyes burning with intent, with hunger, with need. And when his hand disappeared behind himself, there was no mistaking what he was doing.

Josh’s breath caught in his throat and his cock twitched visibly between them.

“Oh.. fuck me,” he groaned. “You’re really gonna kill me.”

Tyler’s only reply was a low, breathy moan as he worked his fingers into himself, breath hitching with every push, every stretch. His lips parted around soft curses, head dropping forward onto Josh’s shoulder as he prepared himself right there in his lap, shameless and determined and so goddamn beautiful Josh could barely take it.

When Tyler finally pulled his fingers free, he spit into his palm, wrapped a hand around Josh’s cock, and stoked him a few times, coating him in slick saliva, before guiding himself over the tip. He hovered for a breathless second, poised above the tip.

And then he sank down.

Josh choked on a gasp, hands flying to Tyler’s hips.

Tyler’s mouth dropped open in a silent cry, every line of his body shuddering with the stretch, the pressure, the fullness. He didn’t move, just sat there for a beat, cock buried deep, breath ragged.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Oh my god, fuck.”

Josh couldn’t speak, he just nodded, eyes wide, mouth slack, fingers digging into Tyler’s skin like he might never let go.

And then Tyler moved.

Slow, at first... a careful roll of his hips that had both of them groaning. Then again, harder, finding a rhythm, working himself down like a man possessed. He was panting now, each drag of his body feeding that heat between them, deeper and rougher with every thrust.

Josh couldn’t stop touching him. One hand on Tyler’s hip, the other sliding up his spine, around to his chest, gripping wherever he could reach. He watched him, completely undone, as Tyler fucked himself on his cock, sweat blooming at his temple, teeth catching at his bottom lip.

“You feel so fucking good,” Josh panted. “Ty... fuck-”

Tyler leaned down, bracing a hand beside Josh’s head, breath ghosting over his mouth as he whispered, “God.. I needed this.”

Josh surged up to kiss him again, desperate and open, their mouths crashing, tongues colliding. With the change in angle, Josh could thrust up into him now... and he did, hard, deep, and relentless, until Tyler cried out into his mouth, loud and wrecked.

"Jesus- fuck!" Tyler moaned into Josh's neck "Please don't stop, please don't stop, please..."

He was close, so close.

Josh could feel it in the way he trembled, in the way his thighs clenched tighter, in the frantic edge of his moans.

“Yeah, that's it...” Josh whispered. “Come for me. Come on my cock, just like that.”

Tyler’s whole body jerked heavily, muscles spasming as he rocked a few more times, and then he came, sharp and silent, mouth falling open in a wordless cry as white heat painted Josh’s stomach.

The sight alone was enough to drag Josh under.

With a loud groan, he followed, spilling inside him, hips bucking up in one final thrust before stilling, every muscle tight, every breath stolen.

They collapsed together, panting, sweat-slick and spent, and for the first time that day, Tyler finally felt whole again.

He felt thoroughly used... but at least not useless anymore.

They didn’t speak for a while, just lay there, tangled and trembling, the only sound in the cabin their unsteady breaths. Josh’s arms were still wrapped loosely around Tyler’s waist, fingertips lazily brushing up and down the small of his back. Tyler hadn’t moved, chest pressed to Josh’s, cheek resting against his shoulder, every bone in his body humming.

Eventually, Tyler shifted enough to prop himself up on an elbow. They both groaned softly when Josh, almost fully soft, slipped out of him. Tyler reached for the rumpled old camp shirt at the foot of the bed, used it to clean them both with slow, careful movements, then tossed it aside again. Josh watched him the whole time, something unbearably soft in his eyes.

When Tyler finally collapsed onto the pillow beside him, Josh rolled to face him, one arm automatically sliding beneath Tyler’s head to keep him close.

And then they lay there like that... naked, sweat-damp, and blissfully sated.

Tyler let out a deep sigh and let his eyes fall shut. Josh didn’t move, at least not until a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Then, casually, he said. “You know what I just realized?”

Tyler cracked one eye open. “Hm?”

Josh shifted slightly, voice light with mischief. “You’re a brat.”

Tyler frowned faintly. “What do you mean?”

“No offence,” Josh said quickly, chuckling. “It’s just... when things don’t go your way? You act like a total little brat. Pouty, pushy, all mouth...”

Tyler opened both eyes now, still blissed-out but narrowing them just slightly in mock offense.

“And then...” Josh continued, smiling like he’d just discovered something precious, “you get some good dick and you go from snarling little tyrant to post-orgasm cuddle bunny in like ten minutes flat.”

Tyler let out a huff. “I’m not-”

Josh arched a brow.

Tyler’s lips twitched. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Josh laughed, full and warm and so goddamn fond. “There it is.”

Tyler rolled his eyes but he was already tucking himself closer, curling into the crook of Josh’s arm like he didn’t even care that he was proving Josh’s point in real time.

“Shut up,” he muttered, the tips of his fingers idly tracing the faint lines of muscle on Josh’s stomach.

Josh smiled again. Kissed the top of Tyler’s head. And didn’t say another word.

...

They might’ve drifted off, just a little.

Not a full sleep, but that lazy, floating place just beneath it, where everything felt slow and warm and timeless. Tyler’s head tucked beneath Josh’s chin, Josh’s arm heavy around his waist. The room smelled like sweat and sex and cedarwood, and for a while, nothing else existed.

Until the distant sound of children’s voices cracked the silence.

Both of them flinched slightly.

Then came laughter, sand-crunching footsteps and someone yelling, “Last one to the flagpole does dishes!”

Tyler groaned softly and buried his face against Josh’s chest. “No.”

Josh snorted. “Lake time’s over.”

“Ugh.”

“C’mon,” Josh leaned in, pressed a kiss to Tyler’s damp hair. “We should probably fix ourselves and pretend we weren’t just-”

“Absolutely wrecking each other?”

Josh grinned. “Exactly.”

They moved slowly, reluctantly. Tyler lowered his bad foot to the floor, and maybe it was the post-sex hormones, but it almost didn’t hurt anymore. Josh steadied him anyway though. Then after a few stolen touches and shared glances, they managed to make themselves look marginally presentable.

Marginally... Tyler’s hair was still a mess. Josh’s shirt was inside-out. They didn’t fix it. It was whatever...

What they didn’t count on was almost running straight into someone the second they stepped outside.

Jenna.

Clipboard in hand, standing on the porch steps, blinking at them like a deer in headlights. Her gaze flicked from Tyler’s flushed cheeks to Josh’s rumpled curls, then down to the way Tyler leaned into Josh’s side for balance.

She blinked again with a slow, dawning realization.

“Oh, hell no,” she muttered. “Tell me you two didn’t just... in the middle of a camp full of children?"

They looked at each other quickly, but neither of them said a word.

Jenna sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and muttered, “You are grown men... With jobs.”

Tyler winced. Josh bit back a grin.

She set the clipboard down on the porch and turned to leave, already shaking her head. “I can't believe you're-" she paused. "You know what? Neither of you deserve the damn camp trophy. I hope you both lose.”

They watched her disappear down the path.

But neither of them looked sorry at all.

Chapter Text

Josh sat on the edge of the mess hall porch, elbows resting on his knees, a half-full coffee cup cooling between his hands.

It was just a little before nine. Workshops would start in about twenty minutes, but the camp was already alive. He could hear the rustle of activity all around... the distant clatter of Morgan setting up easels by the art shed, the familiar bark of Mark laughing at his own survival joke, a few kids sprinting past with their laces half-tied and shirts on backward.

Josh didn’t need to prep anything for his session. That was one of the perks of leading a sports workshop... he could just throw a ball into the field and the kids would be happy with just that. Although, even if he’d had something to prepare, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to. He wasn’t sure he could’ve looked away.

Because down the path, just under the counselors’ cabins, Tyler was completely surrounded.

A swarm of six or seven year olds clung to him like baby monkeys... one hooked around his neck, two dangling from either arm, and another wrapped tight around his leg, giggling maniacally. Tyler was laughing too, careful on his bad ankle but otherwise letting them maul him, his whole body loose and warm and open in that way he always seemed to save for the kids.

Josh watched, transfixed. And he just couldn’t help but think how cute Tyler looked.

Hair a little tousled from the wind, sleeves pushed up, dirt smudged on one shin and half a temporary tattoo still clinging to his forearm from yesterday's disco party. He looked like he belonged here, like he’d been made for this exact moment.

Josh’s chest ached with something huge.

Their little escapade yesterday might’ve been a little reckless, maybe more than a little, but it had shifted something fundamental in Josh’s chest. He’d felt it as soon as Tyler collapsed into him afterward, still panting and shaking. There’d been no retreat, no avoidance, no shame.

Just... Tyler. Right there, warm, soft and quiet, curling into him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And that... that had wrecked Josh more than the hot, borderline obscene sex they’d had just minutes before. More than the endless teasing or the way Tyler had kissed him with that dark, possessive hunger.

It was the aftermath that completely rearranged Josh's insides.

The post-sex haze, tangled limbs, Tyler’s fingers tracing absentminded circles on the skin of his stomach. The lazy jokes and soft laughter. And even the awkward moment when Jenna caught them outside and made them realize just how obvious they looked.

The wild part was that Tyler hadn’t looked apologetic at all.

No panic, no cold shoulder or immediate need to backpedal. No... He looked so satisfied, so... settled. Like someone who’d made a decision and was, for once, okay with where it landed him.

And to Josh, that was everything.

Because he’d always been willing to chase. Ever since the beginning, since they first met at the pre-camp meeting, Josh had been chasing. But what happened yesterday? That felt like instead of chasing, he’d finally been met halfway.

And now here he was, watching Tyler laugh with a kid hanging from his neck and another trying to climb his back, and he felt that swell of affection all over again.

It must’ve been written all over his face, because the next thing he knew, Debby was sitting down beside him.

She followed the line of his gaze without needing to ask, eyes trailing down the path until they landed on Tyler, currently hung with children like he was a Christmas tree. One of the little boys had made it from his arm to his neck, draped across his shoulders like a scarf, and all of them were giggling and shrieking as Tyler spun in slow, uneven circles to keep his balance.

Debby looked back at Josh, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“So,” she said, bumping her shoulder lightly against his, “I heard you’re under Jenna’s supervision now.”

Josh blinked, pulled out of his reverie like someone waking from a trance. His thoughts scattered, the cozy hypnosis of watching Tyler melt into kid chaos evaporating in a second.

“I am?” he asked, caught somewhere between confused and alarmed.

Debby grinned, folding her arms and crossing one leg over the other. “Well.. not just you. I heard someone’s been... naughty yesterday afternoon.”

Josh nearly choked on his coffee.

While he had known Jenna hadn’t been thrilled about nearly walking in on them post-sex and post-nudity, he hadn’t realized they were now officially under surveillance. Though… maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder just how many people already knew.

“Wha- how... what are you talking about?”

Debby laughed, clearly enjoying every second of his slow-motion panic. “Relax, dude. Jenna only told me. And only because she knows we’re close.” She jabbed a finger into his side, eyes dancing. “You should’ve seen her face though. She looked like a mom who just found out her sons started a fire in the backyard.”

Josh flushed, redder than should be biologically possible. “Jesus Christ.”

“So?” she pressed, turning toward him with an elbow on her knee, grinning like she already knew the answer. “Everything going alright then?”

Josh looked away, biting down a smile that felt stupidly big for his face. He could still feel Tyler curled into him from the day before, could still hear his stupid soft laugh muffled against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said softly. It came out smaller than expected, but it was honest.

Debby’s grin widened like she could feel it, too. “Oh, come on,” she said. “Is that all I’m gonna get?”

Josh raised an eyebrow, not quite blushing this time, just... watching her, bemused. “What... you want details on how two boys do it?”

She looked momentarily stunned, like she hadn’t expected him to throw it back at her so directly, but then she recovered fast, leaning forward with a dramatic gasp. “Oh Joshie... I think you underestimate women... and how hot we think this stuff is.” Her voice dropped into a playful whisper. “So... yeah?”

Josh blinked at her, wide-eyed for a beat, trying to calculate whether she actually meant it. “You are not serious.”

She widened her eyes, solemn and unapologetic. “Oh, but I so am...”

Josh let out a quiet, incredulous laugh. Then he shook his head, set his coffee aside, and pressed his palms against his knees as he stood up. “Well, too bad for you,” he said, smirking down at her, “because I don’t kiss and tell.”

Debby let out a scandalized gasp and giggled behind him as he stepped off the porch.

As he walked away, Josh shook his head again, but it wasn’t exasperated... It was fond. The kind of grin you wore when the chaos in your life had finally started to feel like the good kind.

The kind that made everything feel a little bit right.

...

Lunch was quieter than usual. Most of the kids had already eaten and scattered off to their cabins, leaving a rare moment of calm in the counselors’ corner of the mess hall. Tyler sat across from Josh, legs stretched out under the table, one ankle still wrapped but finally out of the brace. Debby slouched next to him with her plate half-finished and a juice box tucked under one arm like a personal accessory. Josh was inhaling a bowl of pasta like he hadn’t eaten in a week.

Jenna dropped into the seat next to him with a clipboard in one hand and a bottle of lemonade in the other. She didn’t look at anyone for a second, just took a sip, flipped a page, and sighed like she was already over it.

“So... boys,” she said, still not looking up. “I hope you both figured that you're under government surveillance now.”

Tyler froze with a fork halfway to his mouth and Josh just looked like someone had just offered to read his search history aloud.

Debby beamed with the smug smirk of someone completely outside the line of fire... like a sibling watching her brothers get scolded while she got off scot-free.

“Seriously,” Jenna added, finally glancing up at them. “Do you guys want to get reported by a camper’s mom? Or do you just like living dangerously?”

Josh scratched the back of his neck. “Surely we weren’t that obvious...”

Jenna blinked at him. “Oh... maybe not when I stumbled upon you, but you wanna tell me you weren't completely naked five minutes before that? In an unlocked cabin? In the middle of the afternoon? With the windows open?"

Tyler made a small choking sound. “We were not- the windows were closed-”

“Yeah,” Jenna said flatly. “And as a professional in sound, I’m sure you know just how noise-canceling those are…”

Debby burst out laughing and Josh covered his face with both hands.

“Look,” Jenna said, finally softening a little. “I’m happy for you. You don’t even understand how much. But I’m also a co-director of this place, and we can’t afford even a hint of the situation. If one kid hears something they shouldn’t, or sees something they shouldn’t...”

Both boys flushed red, all the way up to their ears. Josh looked like he was replaying yesterday in his head with the dawning horror of just how not subtle they’d actually been. Tyler slouched further in his seat, suddenly regretting every decision that had led him to doing... all that in a cabin with the door unlocked. Not to mention all the other times in the laundry shack. And that time against the cabin wall. Jesus.

“We know,” Josh mumbled. “You’re right.”

Tyler nodded sheepishly, staring into his empty cup like it might offer him a portal out of this conversation.

“All I’m asking,” Jenna continued, tapping her pen against the clipboard, “ is that you be careful. You keep the affection out of daylight, until the kids are asleep and you’re behind a damn door. And if you absolutely, life-threateningly must climb into each other’s beds again, for god’s sake... lock up, and be quiet.”

There was a pause, and then... against all logic or self-preservation, Tyler looked up, eyes gleaming with mischief, and said, “So you’re saying Josh can sleep in my bed, Mom?”

Josh choked.. Was that a joke or did Tyler actually mean it?

Jenna just stared, and Debby’s mouth hung open in amused shock.

Jenna pinched the bridge of her nose. “I walked right into that one, didn't I.”

Tyler grinned, unrepentant, and Josh was still red to the ears.

“Just... I’m begging you both,” Jenna said, deadpan. “Please... Be adults.”

And then she got up, muttering something under her breath, and disappeared back toward the kitchen, clipboard tucked under her arm like a sword she was mercifully choosing not to use.

Debby turned to them slowly, eyes wide with awe. “You guys just got scolded so hard.

Tyler raised a brow, his posture still a little hunched with residual humiliation. “You got something to say too?”

He didn’t mean to snap, but damn if he didn’t feel like a teenager who’d just been walked in on by their mom. Properly humiliated, a little pissy about it.

Debby just shrugged, smirking. “Honestly dude, I don’t care. Actually no, wait... I wanna see you kiss. Can you guys kiss?”

Josh gave her a look.

“That’d be hot,” she added with a wink.

“Okay. I’m leaving,” Josh declared, standing so fast his chair scraped. “I am so done with this table.”

Tyler just watched him go before turning his gaze to Debby, who was still grinning from ear to ear. He stared at her for a beat with an expression that said are you mentally okay? and then shook his head and pushed himself up with a quiet groan. Debby gave him a shit-eating grin and a little wave as he walked off.

He caught up with Josh just outside the mess hall. Their shoulders brushed as they stepped down the stairs. Neither of them spoke, just exchanged a guilty, amused glance, like two kids who’d just gotten away with something incredibly stupid.

Tyler laughed under his breath. Because somehow, chaos or not, this still felt good.

...

The afternoon sun hung low and golden, casting long shadows across the field as the final game of the day geared up. Counselors gathered near the equipment shed, handing out colored ribbons, whistles, and a suspicious number of water balloons.

Tyler stood near the edge of the group, one sneaker tapping rhythmically against the grass, his ankle still wrapped but stable. After two days of sitting out most activities, the pent-up energy in his bones was practically vibrating.

Josh passed by with a crate of cones and shot him a look. “You gonna survive out there, champ?”

Tyler smirked, straightening his spine. “Don’t worry about me, I’m gonna wipe the floor with you.”

“You always talk big right before you lose.”

Tyler just raised a brow, already drifting toward his team like he’d won the game before it even started.

The challenge was a variation on capture-the-flag mixed with a relay race... nothing too intense, which was exactly why Maddy had let him join. His role was more of a “flag guardian,” stationed near the goal, mostly shouting strategy and making sure the kids didn’t accidentally tackle each other into the dirt.

But even on the sidelines, Tyler was in his element again. His kids darted across the field with painted cheeks and determined grins, shouting his name whenever they scored or needed backup. Tyler jogged a few steps here and there, careful on his ankle but clearly itching to be more involved.

Josh was giving it his all on the opposing team, but despite the valiant effort, Tyler’s team pulled ahead... fast.

By the time the final whistle blew, it wasn’t even close. The victory was undeniable.

Tylers kids swarmed him the second the game ended, cheering, whooping and shouting their made-up chant as they latched onto his arms and legs, forming a pile of sweaty, victorious limbs. Tyler let them pull him into their chaos, laughing loud as they danced around in a circle, out of breath and happier than ever.

He didn’t even notice Josh at first.

Not until he tore his eyes away from the beaming kids and spotted him approaching, slow and steady, from across the field. Tyler watched it like it was happening in slow motion.

Josh's shirt was plastered to his chest, dark with sweat. A few strands of hair had stuck to his forehead, and his face was flushed... not just from heat, but from all the effort too. As he got closer, Tyler saw his mouth moving. He was saying something.

Tyler blinked. Somehow he didn’t hear a word... just watched the curve of his lips, the way his jaw ticked, the way his breath still came a little uneven. And then...

“What?” Tyler asked, voice cracking just slightly from how dry his throat had gone.

Josh smirked, entirely aware, and clearly proud, of the effect he was having.

“I said... you might be on top again, but don’t celebrate just yet.”

Tyler’s stomach did something illegal. The words hit with an entirely different implication than probably intended. You might be on top again... His brain instantly flashed to yesterday, to Josh gasping under him, mouth open, body bucking, and a shiver rolled straight down his spine.

Josh raised a brow, clearly enjoying the way Tyler just short-circuited.

“One more game tomorrow, counselor” he added, easy and smug. “I still have a chance to win that trophy.”

Tyler exhaled, blinking hard as the meaning behind Josh’s words finally caught up with him. “Right... yeah. The trophy.”

Truthfully, he hadn’t even checked the scoreboard since yesterday. As dramatic as he’d been about it before... about being benched, about Josh winning and pulling ahead, he was only now realizing how little it actually mattered. That he didn't really care that much anymore.

Because something had been shifting in him for a while. Quietly, without asking permission.

And the final shift happened yesterday when he’d ended up breathless, boneless, and satisfied, tangled in a mess of sheets with Josh beneath him.

And sure, the win still felt good. His kids were beaming, his ankle held, and the chant was echoing in his ears. But none of it compared to the way Josh was looking at him now. All smug and teasing and... God... All his.

Tyler couldn’t help it... he grinned, heart full in a way no trophy could ever match.

...

The fire crackled in the pit, spitting orange sparks into the air as the last of the marshmallows were burned beyond recognition. Laughter still lingered in the air, but the crowd was thinning out. Kids were being herded toward bed in sleepy clusters, and the counselors were quietly slipping into cleanup mode.

Josh knelt near the log benches, tossing half-burned sticks into the embers and stacking empty soda cans into a trash bag. His arms still buzzed faintly from the game earlier, and his body ached in that good, bone-deep way, but his mind was elsewhere.

Specifically... back at lunch.

Back at Tyler, cocking his head with that ridiculous glint in his eye and asking - “So you’re saying Josh can sleep in my bed, Mom?”

Josh huffed out a quiet breath through his nose. He knew it was supposed to be a joke. A bratty, half daring comeback. But ever since the words left Tyler’s mouth, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

Because yeah... he wanted to. God, how much he wanted to. Not even for sex... not this time.

He wanted to be there. To lie there beside Tyler in the dark. To feel him shift in the sheets. To hear his heartbeat slow. To wake up tangled and warm and real. The image was clear in his mind, and it was doing things to him.

But... At the same time, he knew he wouldn’t. Probably.

Not after Jenna’s warning, not when they were finally starting to build something real. He didn’t want to move too fast and mess it up. Not when he’d just started to believe that maybe Tyler might actually stay.

Josh sighed and grabbed another armful of trash. He didn’t even notice Tyler stepping up beside him until their fingers brushed over the same empty water bottle.

“Oop, sorry,” Tyler murmured.

Josh glanced up at him. The firelight painted his skin in warm golds and soft shadows, curls tousled from the wind and humidity. There was a faint streak of ash across his cheekbone, like a brushstroke someone forgot to clean off.

Josh was still full of everything he’d been thinking just moments before. And maybe that’s why... before he could stop himself, he asked:

“Would you really want me sleeping next to you? In your bed?”

Tyler froze, eyes flicking up to meet his. The question caught him a little off guard... it hadn’t come with a warning, and yet it landed with weight. His brow creased faintly, like he hadn’t expected the words to feel so... real.

He didn’t answer right away, just stood there with a crumpled cup in one hand and the kind of expression Josh had come to recognize as thinking too hard.

And Tyler actually did stop to think about it.

And that alone said a lot. Because there’d been a time... hell, not even so long ago, when he would’ve shut that door without hesitation, made a joke or dodged the moment completely. But now? Something had shifted. Maybe not everything, Maybe not enough, but it still meant something.

Josh was just about to backpedal, to brush it off as teasing, when Tyler finally spoke.

“I mean... I wouldn’t be completely opposed to the idea. Just…”

Josh smiled and his chest warmed all over again. Somehow, he knew Tyler had been thinking the exact same thing he had just minutes ago.

“Just.. not yet,” Josh finished quietly.

Tyler looked at him, surprised. Then he smiled too, softly, like it had just dawned on him.

“Not yet,” he repeated. There was no panic in it, no walls, just honesty.

And Josh swore something deep in his ribcage clicked into place.

They didn’t say anything else, just kept working side by side, tossing cans into bags and ash into the fire. But the silence between them had changed... less heavy now, more like an unspoken promise.

Because not yet didn’t mean never.

And for Josh, that was more than enough.

Chapter Text

The morning was slow, in that quiet, sacred way only the last day of camp could be. The sun had barely lifted above the trees, casting long, soft beams across the empty field, and there was already that strange, bittersweet stillness in the air.

Kids moved a little slower today, lingered longer at breakfast, sat a little closer to their counselors, even the rowdiest ones not quite ready to let go. Laughter still echoed around the cabins, but it had a softness to it now, a kind of hush around the edges. Like everyone knew the adventure was ending, and no one quite wanted to say it out loud.

Tyler sat on the porch steps of the music cabin, a mug of lukewarm coffee in one hand and his wrapped ankle stretched out in front of him. He watched as Josh approached from the field, hair still messy from sleep, shirt wrinkled, hands shoved in his pockets.

Josh didn’t say anything at first, just dropped down beside him, shoulder bumping gently against his, and let out a long sigh.

“Can’t believe it’s ending already.”

Tyler smiled without looking over. “Yeah... I mean, we’ve still got two more days here without the kids, but... yeah. Gonna miss the chaos.”

Josh huffed a quiet laugh. “Never thought I’d say this, but me too. Even the high-pitched screaming.”

Tyler finally glanced over, eyes soft. “You’ll miss it until your ears stop ringing.”

They sat there for a moment, the quiet kind of comfortable. The camp was still waking up around them, shouts in the distance, the clang of breakfast trays, someone singing the camp song a little off-key. The kind of mess you only missed once it was gone.

Josh tilted his head, voice lighter. “So what’re you doing once you get home? Any projects waiting for you?”

Tyler nodded slowly. “Yeah... a lot, actually. A couple client jobs lined up, and I’ve been putting off this ad campaign thing for months now.” He hesitated, then added, “But I’m looking forward to just... writing again. Music, I mean. Stuff that’s mine.”

Josh watched him as he spoke, quiet and thoughtful.

“I think I’ve got something to say again,” Tyler said after a beat. “It’s been a while since I felt that.”

Josh smiled. “This place’ll do that to you.”

Tyler hummed, more to himself than anything, eyes still on the field. “Yeah. This place, the people...”

He glanced at Josh as he said it... just a quick look, like he was trying not to make it obvious who he meant by people, but didn’t want there to be any confusion either. The message was clear enough, and Josh’s smile turned a little softer, like he understood exactly what Tyler meant.

“I think it all cracked me open a little this summer.”

Their eyes met, quiet and steady. Josh gave a slow nod, and they sat in that shared understanding for a moment before turning their gazes back to the camp.

Breakfast was over, the field was starting to come alive again with kids spilling out of cabins, counselors corralling them toward the day’s final program. Somewhere, someone shouted for sunscreen. Somewhere else, two campers were loudly arguing over who packed the better trail mix.

Tyler took it in, letting it wash over him. But his mind drifted further than the field, further than the morning.

He thought about home... About what was really waiting for him.

At the beginning of the summer, he’d imagined it clearly... returning to his quiet little studio, writing music with the windows open, no shouting kids or muddy shoes or half-eaten granola bars under his piano bench. Just him, his keyboard, and the kind of silence he used to crave.

He’d imagined it would be like waking up from a dream, returning to the version of himself, to the version of his life, that he lived the rest of the year, when he wasn’t at camp.

But now... that image had started to blur. Because he wasn’t the same anymore. And the silence he always liked didn’t sound peaceful anymore... it sounded empty.

For a second, he let himself wonder, just hypothetically, if Josh might somehow be a part of that homecoming. The thought made his chest tighten, uncertain and a little too big for words.

And that’s when he realized he hadn’t even asked Josh what he was doing once camp ended.

Then Tyler glanced over again. “What about you? What are you gonna do once you get home?”

Josh shrugged. “Not much honestly. Gonna chill for a couple weeks, maybe visit home, then head out again. We’ve got a small tour lined up in October. Just West Coast stuff, nothing crazy.”

Tyler nodded. “That’s nice.”

But even as he said it, a flicker of something else moved through him. It wasn’t jealousy... not quite. It wasn’t sadness either. Just... a weight. An ache he couldn’t name. Like the more he tried to hold onto this moment, the more slippery it became.

Josh nudged his knee. “You good?”

Tyler blinked. “Yeah. Just... taking it in, I guess.”

Josh didn’t push, just leaned back on his palms and stared out over the field, like maybe if they stayed here long enough, the day wouldn’t end.

Tyler stayed beside him, coffee forgotten in his hand, eyes watching nothing in particular as the quiet pressed in around him. He didn’t know why the thought of going home suddenly felt so strange, like he’d just found something solid, and now he had to figure out how to carry it without dropping it.

...

He didn’t have much time to let the feeling settle though.

Because within minutes, Dave was clapping his hands and herding all the campers toward the field for the morning program. His voice boomed across the clearing with that end of camp cheerfulness that somehow made everything feel even more final.

“No workshops today!” he called out, grinning like a santa announcing a snow day. “We’ve got a full schedule... final camp game, afternoon party prep, and of course... the big trophy announcement tonight!”

The few kids already gathered nearby erupted in cheers.

Mark was stuffing up his backpack with snacks and field supplies, ready to escort the kids out for a short nature walk and scavenger challenge outside the camp perimeter. It was a tradition on the last morning, Dave and Mark led all the kids away so the rest of the staff could transform the camp into a playground of organized chaos.

This time, that chaos took the form of exactly five hundred tiny laminated cards.

Each card had a different point value scrawled across it, some worth five, some ten, some twenty, and a few rare ones were worth fifty. The rules were simple... find as many cards as you can in one hour. Each team’s points would be tallied up at the end.

So while the kids were off in the woods singing camp songs and loudly arguing about pinecones, the counselors set to work.

Tyler took one half of the field, Jenna the other. Debby and Morgan split up the cabins, and Josh, ever the overachiever, climbed a tree to wedge one of the fifty-pointers into the crook of a high branch.

They scattered the cards like breadcrumbs across the grass, under benches, between tree roots, even taping a few under the porch railings. Tyler tucked one in the brim of an abandoned baseball cap, another inside the fold of a paper lantern still hanging from the last bonfire.

It was the perfect level of chaos... fun, unpredictable, and borderline feral once the kids returned.

And boy, were they feral when they returned.

Dave hadn’t even finished announcing the rules before they exploded like a pack of caffeinated squirrels. Kids tore across the camp in every direction, diving under benches, yelling to teammates, squealing with victory every time they found one of the high value cards.

Counselors stood at the sidelines, supervising but also playfully hinting, giving out vague directions like, “Hmm... I wonder if anyone’s checked near the snack shed lately,” or “I feel like there’s something hidden in plain sight... maybe around eye level... if you’re seven feet tall.”

Tyler leaned into the chaos with a wide smile. His kids were screaming his name every time they scored big, and he laughed along with them, calling out encouragement and pretending not to help too much.

Josh shot him a grin across the lawn at one point, panting slightly, as he shouted a reminder not to tackle each other. Tyler caught the look and smiled back before pretending to point toward a “totally not suspicious” log where a stack of cards had been hidden.

Eventually, the hour was up, and the kids, flushed, and panting, gathered with their counselors in team clusters. Tyler knelt in the grass, sorting through the collection with his group, counting numbers and adding tallies. Josh did the same a few meters away.

Once the points were counted, they were handed off to Jenna, who had claimed a folding chair and clipboard like a queen tallying her war generals.

A few minutes later, she stood up and called everyone to attention.

“Okay! Final scores for the last game of the summer...” she said, voice raised above the chatter. “In third place... just barely though, we’ve got Tyler’s team!”

His kids gave a valiant cheer anyway, and Tyler ruffled one of their heads with a grin.

“In second, with just a hundred more points... Josh’s team!”

Josh gave a mock-celebratory bow as his team erupted, clapping each other on the back.

“And in first, with a total of 1,030 points... Morgan’s team!”

The campers lost it. Morgan’s kids practically tackled her to the ground as she laughed and let herself be dragged into their victory chant. Her team’s win wouldn’t have much weight in the overall rankings, but it didn’t matter... for the kids, it was a perfect send off.

Josh nudged Tyler’s elbow. “We’ve been dethroned.”

Tyler chuckled, watching Morgan get swarmed. “Only in this game... the trophy, though? Still in play.”

Josh turned to look at him, eyes gleaming with that familiar spark. The same one he always wore when they were toe-to-toe in anything, from challenges to camp dares to flirting they pretended wasn’t flirting at all. Tyler met his gaze, and for a moment, the air between them buzzed with quiet challenge.

They both knew what was at stake.

And sure, Tyler had the edge... or at least, he was pretty sure he still did. Even with Josh’s team pulling ahead in the final game, his own lead from earlier games had to still count for something.

Probably... Maybe.

...

The mess hall was quiet for once. Outside, the kids were busy signing shirts, exchanging numbers with shaky handwriting and smudged sharpies, trying to cram a summer’s worth of memories into the final hours. Laughter echoed through the open windows, carried in on the breeze like it didn’t know this was goodbye.

Inside, Tyler moved between tables, setting out paper lanterns and stacking plastic cups. It was all mindless work. The steady and predictable kind of thing he usually liked, just enough motion to keep his hands busy, just enough repetition to clear his head.

Except his head wasn’t clearing this time.

Instead, there was this low, guttural feeling churning in his stomach. Like dread, but not as sharp, just thick and hot and nameless. Something felt wrong, and he didn’t know what it was.

He should’ve felt good. Triumphant, even.

His team had done great in the game, his ankle was holding up, he was probably still in the lead overall... if not by much, then enough to matter. The trophy, that stupid piece of plastic and pride, was basically his already.

And Josh...

Josh was good, sweet, still warm and close and soft around the edges with him. Everything between them had been just right lately. Like something delicate but stable had finally taken shape.

So why didn’t he feel good?

He stopped by the counter, hands pausing over a stack of napkins. His brow creased.

He should’ve been smug right now. Should’ve been out there teasing Josh about the score, about their shared losses and the mystery of who’d come out on top. He should’ve been buzzing with that familiar charge, the one he always felt before a win.

But instead, his chest was tight.

It wasn’t sudden... the spiral never was. And now that he thought about it, it had probably started hours ago, maybe right after that quiet morning talk with Josh. It rolled in like fog, thickening around the edges of his thoughts.

He recognized it, that slow itch of dread crawling under his skin, he knew it was happening. He just... didn’t know how to stop it.

Because things were too good. That was the problem.

Everything felt too good.

The game, his ankle, the trophy, his relationship with Josh.

And that’s when his brain did what it always did... what it’d been trained to do. It went looking for what could break, for what would break eventually. Because things like this, things that felt safe, they didn’t last. Not for people like him. Something was gonna give, for sure.

His fingers clenched around the napkins.

He couldn’t undo the win, couldn’t un-heal his ankle, couldn’t tank the trophy now. So what was left?

Josh.

Of course it would be Josh. It made the most sense.

Because soon, the camp would be empty again. They’d have to leave, go home, go back to their own lives. And Josh... Josh would go back to the city, to his friends, his band, his stage lights and music and adrenaline. He’d go on tour and meet people who were fun and loud and easy. People who didn’t take months to warm up. People who didn’t overthink everything.

People who weren’t Tyler.

His throat tightened. He set the napkins down and moved to the next table, trying to shake off the weight of his own thoughts. Deep down, he knew this was just his fucked-up brain trying to protect him by predicting disaster. Telling him to brace for the fallout before anything even cracked.

It was probably all bullshit, just a construction of his mind... but it was already in him now. That knot in his chest, pulling tighter with every step.

He didn’t really talk to anyone that afternoon. Just closed into himself, kept moving, kept finding little tasks that didn’t really need doing... a crooked chair, a wrinkled tablecloth, a centerpiece he adjusted twice then shifted back. Anything to stay busy. Anything to keep his hands occupied while his mind spiraled.

But the mood settled over him like a dark cloud shadowing the sun.

And it stuck with him. All the way into the evening, through the soft excitement of the kids getting dressed up, through the laughter spilling out from the cabins, through the mess hall slowly filling up with counselors and campers buzzing with anticipation.

By the time everyone gathered for the trophy announcement, Tyler still wasn’t really there.

He kept his eyes down, hands folded on the table, or drifting lazily across the grain of the wood. He stared at a splintered groove or out into the trees through the window like they might have answers.

He sure as hell didn’t look like someone who was about to win the camp trophy.

And finally, Josh noticed.

From across the mess hall, he watched how Tyler wasn’t talking, wasn’t smiling. How he was there, but not there, his whole body slack with tension. Jenna noticed too, her eyes flicking from Tyler to Josh with a quiet question. Josh only shrugged, concerned but clueless, before glancing back at Tyler with something soft and worried pressing into the lines of his face.

But there was nothing they could do. Not with everyone already in place, seated with their own teams, the anticipation building like static in the air.

Tyler missed all of it.

He didn’t catch the flicker of Josh’s frown or the way Jenna bit her lip in thought. He didn’t see his kids grinning beside him, whispering guesses and nudging each other with barely-contained excitement.

He even missed Dave walking in with the clipboard in one hand and the trophy in the other... until the microphone screeched and made him jump slightly in his seat, dragging his eyes up like they were weighted.

Everything felt fuzzy, like he was underwater.

Dave cleared his throat, smiled big, and launched into his usual speech about camp records and counselor excellence and what a summer it’s been, but Tyler didn’t really register it. He was already bracing for the moment his name would be called, afraid how his legs might not carry him. Imagining how he might have to smile when he felt like his chest was collapsing in on itself. How he might have to look Josh in the eyes and pretend like he was fine.

And then there was a dramatic pause first, before Dave laughed into the mic.

“Okay... we’ve got ourselves a camp first, everyone. For the first time in camp history... we have a tie.”

There was a beat of stunned silence.

“And that means,” Dave continued, raising both arms with a grin, “the two champions for the summer are... team Josh and team Tyler!”

Tyler blinked, still frozen. Did he mishear that?

Then chaos erupted, two tables exploding at once, his and Josh’s, full of cheers and whoops and pounding fists and wild, wide eyes.

Tyler’s mouth parted slightly. The noise swelled around him, kids chanting his name, hugging him, grabbing at his arms, but for some reason he couldn’t move. And it wasn’t because he wasn’t the one clear winner. Screw that, he didn’t care.

It was the way Dave had said it, the way both their names had landed together like that. Not separate, not rivals, just... one and the same.

And then, through the blur, Josh appeared right in front of him. All flushed, beaming, smug as hell but also cautious in his eyes. Soft around the edges in that way Tyler had come to know so well.

Josh held out a hand.

“Looks like we’ll be entering next summer as reigning co-champions,” he said, voice low and steady.

For a second Tyler just stared at him, like he was seeing him for the first time, in full color, full clarity. Like the fog finally lifted and the spiral had split open and let the air back in.

Because Josh could’ve said anything, he could’ve gone with yayy, we tied or omg, we both won.

But no. Instead he chose something that carried more than just excitement for the win. It carried the shape of a promise. A future. Together.

Tyler’s breath caught, his eyes flicked from Josh’s hand to his face, back again. Then, slowly, he reached out and took it.

Josh hauled him up with ease, steady and sure, and the room felt like it locked into place around him. Like Tyler’s footing came back, like he remembered where he was and who was there waiting for him.

They walked side by side up to Dave, who handed over the trophy with a grin and a pat on the back for each of them. The claps and the shouts still felt oddly distant, but Tyler felt steady again. Anchored in the only thing that really mattered.

Josh.

Then came the chaos.

The counselors swarmed them almost immediately, Jenna cheering loudly as she hugged them both, Mark slapping Josh on the back hard enough to make him stumble, Morgan dramatically fake-bowing like they’d just won an Oscar.

The kids were even worse... leaping, hollering, wrapping their arms around Tyler’s waist and Josh’s legs, one of them somehow deploying an entire handful of dollar-store confetti in Tyler’s face. It was loud and messy and overwhelming, but Tyler didn’t mind.

Because he was grounded in the moment, grounded in him. Watching Josh laugh as a kid clung to his arm like a koala, watching the way his eyes kept flicking back to Tyler even through the chaos.

Eventually, as the noise settled and the crowd peeled off in search of juice boxes and leftover cupcakes, Tyler and Josh were left standing in the middle of it all, both still holding one side of the trophy, the room catching its breath around them.

Josh turned, extending his free hand with a crooked grin.

“Congratulations on your trophy, counselor,” he said, his voice warm with something more than just pride, something quieter and steadier, like he was proud of Tyler, not just the win.

The smile curled on Tyler's lips before he could stop it. Because sure, maybe Josh was happy about the win. But that didn’t feel like the important part anymore.

Tyler took Josh’s hand and gave it a short shake, then met his eyes, and for a second, everything else slipped away. The noise, the lights, the crowd... gone. It was just them, standing in the middle of it all like the rest of the world had faded out.

And then Tyler said, low and honest, “I don’t really care about that anymore.”

Josh’s grin softened, melting into something slower and steadier. The grip of their hands loosened gently too, but Josh didn’t let go.

“I know,” he said, still soft and smiling, eyes glowing like he saw right through him, not in a way that exposed, but in a way that held.

And Tyler smiled too. Because he meant it. And because he knew Josh understood.

Chapter Text

The sky hung low, blank and silvery, like it hadn’t decided what kind of day it wanted to be, whether to rain or not. The air smelled like dust and damp grass, soft and heavy on the skin. Everything around looked washed-out and tired, like the whole world was exhaling with the end of summer.

It matched the mood.

There were still a few kids on the lawn, waiting for late parents or lingering for final hugs, dragging their feet in the grass like maybe if they stalled long enough, they wouldn’t have to leave at all. Tyler had seen it every session, every year, but it never stopped hitting him the same.

Josh stood beside him on the porch, shoulder brushing his once in a while, quiet and warm. They both watched as a mom popped a trunk and a dad wrestled with a duffel that was clearly too heavy for his kid. Then another car pulled out of the lot, dust lifting, gravel crunching under the tires until the sound faded and left a stillness in its place.

It wasn’t totally silent yet, but it was getting there.

Tyler exhaled slowly, his chest felt full and oddly light at the same time, like something was both pressing in and letting go. He wasn’t spiraling anymore, luckily that had come and gone yesterday. He felt... okay. Present and somewhat content.

Josh, on the other hand, hadn’t really let go of yesterday. Tyler’s dissociation before the announcement was still gnawing at him quietly, sitting in the back of his mind ever since. He’d watched it happen in real time, watched him fold in on himself like he was collapsing under the weight of something invisible.

And Josh had felt completely helpless. He hadn’t had a clue what had caused it, couldn’t even begin to guess. It left him with this sick twist in his stomach, because on one hand, he was grateful he recognized the signs this time. But on the other hand... it stung not knowing the reason, or not knowing how to help.

He hadn’t pushed then, because Tyler hadn’t seemed like he could’ve handled it. But now he was calm, centered, even smiling a little. It felt like the right time.

So when Josh finally broke the silence, Tyler wasn’t really expecting it.

"Can I ask you something?" Josh asked.

Tyler tilted his head, eyes still on the gravel. "Mhm."

Josh didn’t rush. "Yesterday. Before the trophy announcement... you seemed a little off. Like... really deep in thought. Or kinda lost or something. Is everything ok?"

Tyler glanced over, a little surprised he’d brought it up. He hadn’t even realized Josh had noticed yesterday. But really, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Because of course he noticed.

There was suddenly a small flicker of frustration in his chest. He’d already made peace with that spiral. It had passed, everything was fine, he was finally in a good place, and now Josh was pulling him back into it. Having to relive something when you were finally ready to forget it, when you’d just begun to feel steady again, that wasn't exactly Tyler's favorite part to do.

But Josh wasn’t accusing, he wasn’t picking at a scab just to see it bleed. He was just... asking. His tone was careful, open, and when Tyler looked at him, there was nothing but quiet concern in his eyes, hopeful, not heavy.

Maybe that was what made Tyler bite down the frustration. The softness in Josh’s voice, the steadiness of his gaze and the way he didn’t try to force it, just held space for the answer. It made Tyler want to step into it, even if it was hard.

He dropped his gaze again and bit his lip. The easy thing would be to shrug it off, say it didn’t matter now, and maybe it didn’t. Well, at least not the spiral itself, but the fear behind it... that had been real. And Tyler realized that if he wanted this thing with Josh to keep being real too... then maybe this was the part where he stopped hiding.

He looked down at his feet, then slowly back up.

"Yeah. I... My fucked-up brain got the best of me again."

Josh didn’t react, just waited.

"I was spiraling a little," Tyler said, voice quieter now. "Thinking about the end of camp. About going back to the city. And you going back to your band, to your friends. And..."

He hesitated.

"And I kinda convinced myself you’d forget about me. Like this was just a summer thing and you’d be off having fun and I’d be... I don’t know. Back to normal I guess." He made air quotes around the word, then added "which just... doesn’t feel so normal anymore."

A long pause settled between them.

Tyler glanced sideways and caught the flicker of something in Josh’s face... worry, maybe... or hurt. So he quickly added, "But it’s nothing, really... it passed. I feel fine now."

Josh shook his head and turned to face him more fully, his brows pinched just slightly. "No... no. Don’t do that. That’s... a relevant fear, Ty. We should talk about it."

Tyler blinked, his stomach tightening as something sharp twitched in his chest. Panic stirred again, uncoiling just under the surface. Of course the first thought that got through was that Josh was about to confirm it all... that he was right to spiral.

But then Josh stepped in a little closer, not crowding, just enough for Tyler to feel the familiar warmth of him. Enough for Tyler to let that thought dissipate and allow the panic to fade. It didn’t disappear entirely, but it quieted enough for Tyler to look up, to meet his eyes with an open expression, bracing gently for whatever came next.

Josh watched him for a moment, like he was choosing his words carefully. Then he said, “I get why it might’ve felt like that. I mean... this session’s over, the whole camp’s winding down. Feels kinda final...”

Tyler nodded, slow and quiet.

Josh gave a small shrug, half smile returning. “But we both live in the city, right?”

Tyler nodded again.

“So... there’s nothing stopping us from seeing each other after camp.” He paused, eyes holding Tyler’s. “Actually, now that I think about it, it should be easier.”

His smile widened, a flash of playfulness slipping in. “No rules, no bunkmates overhearing... no six-to-fourteen-year-old interruptions.”

Tyler huffed a soft laugh.

Josh grinned. “I mean… it could be pretty simple, really. Unless you mind me crashing your workdays or eating all your cereal or something.”

That made Tyler laugh, something warmer and more genuine slipping through. And suddenly he could already see it...Josh showing up unannounced, flopping onto his couch like he belonged there, teasing him with a spoon in his mouth and a half-empty box of cereal in hand. Calling just to say hi. Being around in the small, quiet ways.

It all had such a domestic ring to it. So ordinary, and so possible. And the thought of it flooded something low and quiet and deeply, deeply warm inside him.

And then just as quickly, something else stirred... embarrassment. That he hadn’t thought of this version first. That his brain had leapt straight to abandonment, to fading texts and silence, and not... this. Not the good kind of real.

But that was him, wasn’t it? Always bracing for the worst-case scenario, always ready to feel like the afterthought, especially when something was good and not entirely in his control.

And maybe, he thought, that’s just how it’ll always be. But right now, he was grateful Josh brought it up, because talking about it helped. Letting it out helped. And he thought that maybe, the way his brain worked could shift. Maybe next time, he’d remember this moment before the spiral started.

Yesterday, though... he hadn’t been there yet.

But now that Josh knew... he figured he could be honest about that, too.

"I just... I wasn’t sure if that’s what you wanted,” Tyler said. His voice was softer now, but steady. “If you wanted this," he gestured vaguely between them, "to exist outside camp too."

Josh didn’t answer right away. Instead he stepped in a little closer, slow and sure and he reached for Tyler’s hand, taking it lightly, brushing his thumb over his knuckles in a way that was gentle but grounding. Intentional.

"Of course I do, Ty."

His voice was so sure. So solid it felt like it might anchor Tyler in place.

"I told you before. And I’ll tell you a million more times until you believe it... I’m not going anywhere."

Tyler looked at him for a long beat. There was something in his chest now that felt less like fear and more like light. But there was still that one thing... The one that didn’t quite fit into this future they were tiptoeing toward. That one immovable, unavoidable thing that would take Josh away from him, whether they wanted it or not.

So he said, "But you are... you’re going on tour in October."

He didn’t say it bitterly, it was just a fact. A plain and inevitable truth.

But it feltlike a fact that left a hole open in him. Like the future had a missing piece no matter how tightly he tried to hold it all together. He couldn’t help but see it as a break for Josh to step back. To take a breath away from Tyler and his fucked-up brain. To live the normal, untangled life and maybe after a few weeks of that, he'd decide that’s what he actually wanted. Maybe when the noise quieted, the choice would be easier.

Tyler shook the thought away before it could fully settle. When he looked up again, something in him paused... because Josh’s energy had shifted completely.

Josh shifted on his feet and scratched the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. His shoulders slouched just a little. The steady ease he’d carried a minute ago gave way to something smaller, quieter. He looked down, kicked the toe of his sneaker against the porch floor like a kid caught in something halfway between trouble and vulnerability.

It was kind of… adorable. The way he’d gone from steady reassurance to bashful fidgeting in seconds.

“Yeah... uh- about that,” Josh said, his voice lighter now, but uncertain. “The fall tour’s kind of a tradition for us, we’ve done it the past few years. And uh... the guys, they’ve been asking every tour now when I’m finally gonna bring someone along. Like... someone someone.”

He risked a glance at Tyler, then looked away again like the sentence had gotten too big for him to carry.

“And I... I kinda wanted to ask if you’d consider coming. Not the whole thing, obviously. But a few shows... a couple stops. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Josh looked at him then, breath caught in his chest like he’d forgotten how to breathe. And now he was just... waiting. He tried to play it cool, but his fingers itched, twitchy with nerves. If Tyler said no, he’d understand, he really would, but God, he didn’t want to hear it.

Tyler stared at him. "You serious?"

Josh finally let the breath go, but it came out a little shaky. Then he started picking at the skin beside his thumbnail, eyes cast down again, like he wasn’t ready to see Tyler’s reaction after all.

"Yeah... I mean, as long as it doesn’t mess with your work. But... if your gear’s flexible, you could probably still get stuff done on the bus. We’ve got outlets and decent wi-fi and-"

"Josh."

Josh shut up instantly and looked up at him.

Tyler’s eyes were wide, soft, and disbelieving. "You’d really want me there?"

Josh held his gaze and whatever tension was still locked in his chest finally released with a breath that came quieter, steadier this time. When he spoke, his voice had dropped into something low and sure.

"More than anything."

Tyler swallowed, his whole body suddenly felt so full... like he couldn’t contain it. It surged in his chest, rushed into his face, tingled beneath his skin like it needed somewhere to go.

This wasn’t what he’d expected to hear.

It wasn’t one of those soft reassurances he’d learned not to trust. It wasn’t a gentle promise that the tour “wouldn’t change anything,” or that they’d facetime every night and text every morning and “make it work.” It wasn’t about keeping things together through distance or hoping time would pass quickly.

No... This was something entirely different.

This was Josh saying.. Come with me. Not I’ll keep you in the loop, but I want you there. It wasn’t just a way to comfort him, it was a real invitation. A place at Josh’s side, not as an afterthought, but as something that mattered.

And the way it hit Tyler... God, he didn’t expect it to hit that hard.

He stared at Josh for another breath, heartbeat thick in his throat. And then, without really meaning to, he said

"God.. I could kiss you right now."

It took a second for Josh to register the words, but when he did... when it sank in that this wasn’t a rejection, or a joke, or another sidestep... his whole face cracked into a grin. Wide and stunned and brighter than the gray sky above them.

“I’d be okay with that,” he said, a little breathless.

For a second, they just grinned at each other, both of them soft-eyed and kind of stupid about it, like they couldn’t believe this was real. Tyler bit his lip, glanced around.

There were still a few kids off in the distance, dragging suitcases toward the gate.

And in the back of his mind, Jenna’s words surfaced... no kids, behind closed doors, and keep it quiet.

"Actually," he muttered just above a whisper, stepping back toward the door and holding out a hand. "C’mere."

Josh took it without question and followed him inside. The door closed softly behind them, and before Josh could say anything else, Tyler had him backed up against the nearest wall.

"I’m going to do exactly that," he said.

And then he kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It wasn’t about finally getting to touch, or needing to make up for lost time. It was slow and steady and full of warmth, of gratitude, of all the aches that had built between them and all the quiet hopes that maybe didn’t have to stay unspoken anymore.

Josh leaned into it instantly, one hand finding Tyler’s waist, the other curling around the back of his neck like he couldn’t bear to let him go.

They kissed like the summer hadn’t ended yet. Like maybe... some things didn’t have to end at all.

...

The final clean-up was brutal.

It wasn't the usual end-of-session kind of clean-up, not just sweeping floors, tossing candy wrappers, and making the cabins look halfway decent for the next batch of kids. No... this wasn't a reset, it was a closure.

This was an end-of-summer clean up. The thorough one.

Everything had to go... Folded, boxed, labeled, and locked away like the summer itself was being packed into storage.

Sheets - gone. Pillows - gone. Even the mattresses got rolled and hauled into the shed out back. Workshop gear, camping tools, all the chalk buckets, tarps, paint, sports nets, even the old wooden signs... anything that wasn’t nailed down or weatherproof got lugged into storage, where it would sit untouched until the sun came back next year.

Tyler and Josh had joked early on that as dual trophy champions, maybe they should be exempt from manual labor, but they were not met with joy. Jenna didn’t even dignify it with words, just raised one unimpressed eyebrow and pointed toward a stack of folding tables. And that was the end of the joking.

So they worked... All of them. Shoulder to shoulder, no one really talking, just the occasional grunt or bark of laughter when someone dropped something loud. There was a quiet understanding... save your breath, save the good conversations for later.

Jenna was organizing the barn, Debby was sorting lost and found, and Mark nearly broke his ankle trying to carry too many chairs at once, which only earned him teasing instead of sympathy. Tyler and Josh kept close, trading smirks, little touches in passing, quiet energy crackling between them in spite of the sweat and dirt and aching arms.

They only broke for lunch, and even that felt more like a pit stop than a meal.

By the time they finally finished, when the last latch clicked shut on the final storage shed and everyone staggered toward the mess hall for dinner, it was already past seven. Bodies ached, feet dragged, but underneath it all was something else... relief, satisfaction and a quiet, mutual knowing...

It was done.

After dinner, no one waited long to crack open a drink.

There wasn’t an official toast or anything, just an unspoken agreement that they could finally celebrate now. Not just another successful session, not the scores, just them. The ones who stayed up late around the firepit and woke up early to prepare breakfast. The ones who got sunburnt and bug-bitten and both physically and emotionally wrung out. The ones who helped light up the world of hundreds of kids all summer long.

The ones who made camp happen.

They deserved that. They deserved to congratulate themselves on a job well done.

Tyler and Josh walked into the counselor cabin together, slightly flushed from the heat, still wearing the same clothes from earlier but looking more relaxed now. Josh grabbed two cups and poured a drink for both of them, sliding one over to Tyler without even looking and then they sat down on the couch side by side without a word.

From across the room, Debby let out a giggle. “Look at you two... All cute and domestic and stuff.”

Jenna, who had just stepped in, smirked as she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Yeah.. they didn’t even try to pretend they came in separately.”

Josh lifted his glass without shame, and Tyler rolled his eyes, but he didn’t look away. “Yeah yeah... you’re just mad we beat you to the drinks.”

“Oh, please,” Jenna said. “I’m mad I didn’t get a picture of your synchronized porch entry... That was peak rom-com.”

Tyler laughed, the sound bright and genuine, like it had been waiting to be let out all day. He leaned back, elbow brushing Josh’s on the couch, and didn’t move away.

For a moment, Jenna just watched them.

Two people who had spent most of the summer circling something neither of them had the language for. And now here they were, calm and relaxed in each other's presence, like the gravitational pull between tem had finally settled.

There was a quiet warmth in her chest. Not just amusement or affection, but also gratitude.

Because Tyler... who had spent so many years keeping one foot out the door, staying somewhat close to her and to the kids, but far from the other counselors, always half somewhere else, he was now sitting there like he finally belonged. Like he wasn’t bracing for the next blow to come, but rather soaking in the moment while it lasted.

And Josh was just sitting there, basking in it all, proud and happy and maybe just a liiiittle bit smug about the fact that they finally got here, to that point.

...

The night soon became loud in the best way. Music poured out of the big speaker, laughter bounced off the cabin walls, and someone had already spilled their drink over the funny quotes notebook before they even got to read it. For one more night, no one acted like they had real jobs or real lives waiting on the other side of the woods.

They danced like idiots, sang even worse, and when the card games devolved into yelling about house rules and cheated scores, no one cared. Not even Jenna, who usually did.

Tyler hadn’t laughed this much in weeks.

It was the kind of night that made you forget how much your back hurt from hauling mattress after mattress into the storage room. The kind of night where you forgot to overthink. Where the only goal was to squeeze every last drop of summer out of that fruity beer bottle.

At some point of the night, Mark, who was fueled purely by beer and nostalgia, started daring people. Something harmless like “go sing a verse of ‘Let it go’ out the window,” which Morgan did with an alarming amount of vocal commitment, none of them realizing there was really no one out there to hear it.

But then it was Morgan who turned these little dares into a full game of truth or dare. Of course it was her... she was the youngest here and probably the most unhinged. Nobody was really surprised when she declared the game with authority, and with the steadily increasing amount of alcohol, nobody protested either.

They gathered in a loose circle in front of the couch when she announced the rules.

“Alright... no cop-outs, no skipping turns, no truths only cowards.”

Tyler, who had somehow migrated from the couch to the dirty carpeted floor opposite it, leaned back on his hands with a smug grin and said, “Come on... I'm a dare guy, you know me.”

And to mark his words, he had already completed three dares by the time they circled back to Josh.

It was fun to see the people who’d spent all summer being composed and reliable, corralling kids, enforcing lights-out, or mediating drama, now letting loose like some overgrown teens. The same people who carried bug spray and first-aid kits like a second skin, now cracking up over someone licking peanut butter off a spoon with their hands tied.

For once, nobody cared about how many cuss words slipped out. Nobody was keeping track of whose turn it was to wake the kids. They were just people again... unfiltered, a little sweaty, and finally, finally not responsible for anyone else.

A few rounds into the game, everyone was tipsy already. Not exactly hammered, but... well-lubricated at the least. Shoulders relaxed, inhibitions lowered.

And the dares started to get more and more bold.

Debby, with her cheeks flushed from wine and pride, fixed Josh with a mischievous grin. And maybe they should’ve seen it coming, maybe they should’ve anticipated it, but it still sent a small ripple through the circle. A few quiet gasps and a lot of raised eyebrows.

“I dare you...” she said slowly, theatrically, eyes locked on her target, “...to kiss Tyler.”

Josh blinked, wondering if he’d misheard her. But her expression was speaking volumes, smug and sure and absolutely serious. God, she meant it.

His gaze flicked across the circle toward Tyler, half-expecting him to look horrified or to be suddenly very interested in the carpet. But instead, he was met with one raised brow and a smirk tugging at the corner of Tyler’s mouth that definitely didn’t read as “hell no, not in front of people”... if anything, it looked more like “well? do you dare?”

Debby looked far too pleased with herself, even when Jenna rolled her eyes and gave her a soft smack on the arm, muttering a resigned, “Seriously?” Morgan just coughed into her drink, and Mark, poor, clueless Mark, was just sitting there, gaping.

Josh was hesitating though, trying to buy himself time by sipping on something orange and regrettable that was currently in his cup. He wasn't drunk enough to forget that Tyler usually kept things private. That he didn’t exactly broadcast affection. And the last thing Josh wanted was to overstep.

But when his eyes found Tyler again, he was still watching him, still holding that look, still daring him, with nothing but his eyes, to do it.

But Tyler, always impatient, didn’t give him much more time to weigh the pros and cons. He was already pushing himself up from the floor, already making his way across the circle, steps casual but deliberate.

“Wait... what?” Mark said, blinking wildly like the air had been knocked out of him. “Wha.. what's happening here?" he asked, voice rising like a rhetorical alarm no one planned to answer.

Tyler crossed the short distance like it was nothing, he didn’t pause, didn’t ask permission, he just dropped himself right into Josh’s lap, one leg swinging across with practiced ease, arms looping loosely around Josh’s shoulders like they belonged there.

His eyes were glassy from alcohol, a little unfocused around the edges, but beneath that was fire.

Josh had time to murmur, “Ty...?” before it stopped mattering.

Because Tyler kissed him.

No... actually. Tyler devoured him, inhaled him like oxygen. Fingers in Josh’s hair, lips hungry and open. There was no polite peck, no quick let’s-get-this-over-with, it was a claim.

Mark made a noise like he’d just witnessed a crime. “Holy sh.. it’s- uh-”

He looked around frantically, waiting for someone else to react, to confirm he wasn’t hallucinating. But no one really seemed shocked.

Jenna was sipping her drink like this was overdue, Debby was thriving, glowing with the glee of a successful dare, and Morgan looked mildly scandalized but mostly just amused, like she was already drafting the group chat messages in her head.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mark said, his voice pitched. “What the fuck is happening? Are you guys seeing this? They’re like... making out.”

His eyes stayed locked on them, still wide with disbelief, even as Jenna leaned closer and gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Yeah...” she sighed, totally casual. “That’s been happening for a while.”

Mark sat back like he’d been hit with a revelation. “Ohhhhh. Okay. Okay." He dragged his hands through his hair before dropping them to his thighs, still staring straight ahead. "Well.. I suppose that explains a lot.”

Tyler, meanwhile, wasn’t paying attention to any of them. His focus was singular... Josh’s mouth, his hair, the heat of his body underneath him... Josh’s everything.

Josh would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. He let himself linger there... in Tyler’s sudden burst of... what- Confidence? Audacity? Drunken boldness, tangled with something far more intimate? Whatever it was, Josh was basking in it.

At least until he started to feel all the eyes on them and the background noise warped into an awkward stillness, a collective pause, as everyone watched Tyler take what he wanted without hesitation.

And Josh tried... he really tried to pull away, to be the responsible one. His hands gripped Tyler’s waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt like he could guide him back gently, steady him, slow him down.

But Tyler didn’t take the hint. He took it as encouragement. He was all over him... warm and heavy, draped across Josh’s lap with an intoxicating amount of drunken affection.

Josh finally managed to break the kiss long enough to mutter, “Tyler... Ty.. people are watching-”

He tried to say it quietly, just for Tyler’s ears, like a private warning, but some part of him already knew it was a lost cause.

And instead of pulling back, Tyler just mouthed along his jawline, dragging lips and teeth, and murmured, “Don’t care.”

Josh looked up helplessly, lap full of needy and possessive Tyler, and he sighed, defeated.

“He doesn’t care,” he told the group, voice tight and half-laughing, half-pleading. “I’m- I’m sorry. He doesn’t care.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Debby groaned, her voice torn between judgment and glee. “But... get a room, dude.”

Josh barely held back a groan when Tyler nipped just under his ear and his hips shifted in Josh’s lap. Not quite a grind, but dangerously close.

“You know what? Yeah...”

And then, God help him, he stood up with Tyler still wrapped around him. He slid his hands under Tyler’s thighs, lifting him effortlessly, holding him tight.

Tyler just laughed, kept kissing him, mouthing down his neck while Josh started toward the door like a man with a mission.

Mark let out another choked noise behind them . “Jesus fucking- is he actually carrying him?"

“Night, everyone,” Josh called over his shoulder, voice full of mock-resignation, arms full of drunk affection.

He didn’t look back, not even once.

...

Josh shifted his grip as they crossed the gravel path, careful not to trip on the uneven ground. The porch lights cast long, faint shadows across the camp, but most of the place was already cloaked in dark, only patches of moonlight flickering through the trees.

The camp was quiet in a way that felt final. A few late lanterns still flickered by the gate, and the wind stirred leaves overhead, but everything else had gone still.

Tyler clung to him without shame, arms around Josh’s neck, breath soft against his collarbone, bare legs hooked around his hips.

Josh couldn’t stop thinking about what just happened. How Tyler had basically devoured him in front of everyone, right there on the couch, no hesitation, no filter. One kiss would've been fine, even a long one. But that?

That was a full-blown make-out scene. The kind of thing people usually pay to see. Or something Josh was sure everyone except for Debby would pay not to.

Because yeah, it had felt amazing, but even now, as he carried Tyler through the quiet dark, he couldn’t shake the flicker of embarrassment, the twinge of guilt for putting on a whole PDA show in front of their friends.

And now? Tyler was still at it, even as Josh carried him across camp, still trying to mouth at his neck like he hadn’t gotten enough.

"Jesus, Tyler, you’re a touchy drunk," Josh muttered, voice low and amused.

Tyler pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes glossy with booze but still bright and mischievous beneath the blur.

“Are you complaining?” he asked with a grin.

Josh laughed... soft, breathless and full of fondness that made his chest ache in the best way.

"You’re unbelievable," Josh said and Tyler tightened his grip in response, shifting slightly as if the swaying motion of Josh’s steps had finally caught up with him.

He wasn’t sucking on Josh’s skin anymore, but he did nuzzle into the crook of his neck like he lived there.

Josh adjusted his steps to keep them steady. "Bumpy ride," he muttered.

Tyler just hummed and snuggled closer, limbs anchoring tighter like he was settling in for the long haul. Josh felt his smile stretch again, involuntary and unstoppable. It was stupid how much he liked this... carrying him, holding him, being held like this in return.

Then Tyler laughed out loud, the kind of bubbly, tipsy laugh that made Josh chuckle even though he didn’t know the joke.

"What?" Josh asked, dodging a low branch as they crossed into the cluster of trees near Tyler’s cabin.

“Oh, just thinking,” Tyler giggled, breath hot against Josh’s neck, “that I might lose some leg muscle if I keep dating you.”

Josh faltered for half a second.

Dating.

Tyler said it so easily, like it had always been obvious, like it was already true. And maybe it was. Josh hadn’t really thought to put a label on this, he hadn’t wanted to rush it or scare Tyler off, but hearing it now, even with the slur of drunken affection, hit him like a slow explosion under the skin.

It hit harder than he expected.

Not because it was shocking, but because it wasn’t. It didn’t sound like a joke, it sounded natural, thoughtless, like Tyler had already decided that’s what they were, and had been carrying it around quietly, waiting for Josh to catch up.

Josh didn’t answer right away, his heart was suddenly hammering, fast and high in his chest, like his ribs were too small to keep it contained. A low warmth spread through him, unexpected and a little dizzying, but really, really good.

When they reached the cabin, he shifted his weight, nudged the door open, and slipped inside. The air was thick with the heat that always lingered at night, even after a cool day. Josh gently kicked the door shut behind him, flicked on the lamp, and lowered Tyler onto the bed.

Tyler was already peeling his shirt off, then his shorts, kicking them lazily onto the floor as he flopped back, spread-eagled in his underwear like he owned the room.

Josh hovered beside the bed for a second, not quite sure if this was an open invitation or just the drunken sprawl of someone thoroughly wiped out.

Then Tyler made grabby hands at him.

That cleared that up.

Josh laughed under his breath and tugged off his own shirt before crawling into the bed beside him. The second he was close enough, Tyler latched on like a magnet.. limbs curling around him again, face nuzzling his chest, like Josh was a pillow he hadn’t seen in weeks.

And then he kissed him again.

Sloppy, slow, a little off target, but still so soft it made Josh’s stomach flip.

The kiss wasn’t hot or urgent, it was lazy, uncoordinated and warm like summer dusk. And Josh let it carry on for a few seconds, until he felt the weight of Tyler’s body sag even heavier against him.

"Ty,” Josh murmured into the kiss, chuckling as he pulled back just a little, “you’re falling asleep.”

Tyler made a frustrated little noise and surged forward again with more conviction this time, mouth pressing against his like he had something to prove. But he lost steam halfway through and flopped against Josh’s chest again, limp and boneless.

Josh laughed again, kissing his forehead. “Just go to sleep.”

“Nooo,” Tyler whined, voice muffled and slurred. “Wanna kiss my boyfriend.”

And there it was again.

Josh’s heart did something that was almost unfair. It tripped and stuttered and then took off, soaring high in his chest like it had been waiting for just that.

Boyfriend.

Not as a question, not as a maybe, just... stated. Like it had already been true for a while.

Josh held completely still, soaking in the weight of it. His arms tightened a little without thinking, like he needed to hold Tyler closer just to handle the feeling.

Boyfriend.

God, he wanted to hear it again. Wanted Tyler to say it sober, with clear eyes and steady hands. He wanted to see him mean it with the same softness and certainty. But right now, he’d take it. God, of course he’d take it.

Tyler shifted again, lips brushing Josh’s chest, eyes fluttering closed. “Fiiine,” he sighed dramatically when Josh didn’t respond to the kiss. “But you’ll stay, right?”

Josh let out a breath, and smiled. There wasn’t a single part of him that even considered leaving.

“Of course,” he whispered.

And Tyler was out in the next breath, as if that answer had been all he needed.

Josh watched him for a moment, hair messy, lips parted, brow smoothed out in sleep and something in his chest swelled and settled at once.

He was in this. All the way. And maybe... just maybe... Tyler was too.

Josh closed his eyes and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in like a promise.

And he stayed.

Chapter Text

The morning light spilled slow and golden through the half-drawn curtain. It painted soft amber lines across the wooden floor, across the edge of the bed, across Tyler’s bare shoulder, glowing faintly as if the sun itself was caught in his skin.

Josh was awake before he even opened his eyes, one of those rare mornings when his body just... knew it was safe. His limbs were heavy in the best way, relaxed in the mess of sheets. And the moment he did peel his eyes open, it was Tyler’s face he saw first.

And fuck, he looked beautiful.

Face turned toward Josh, hair a tousled mess, flattened in the back and fluffed up around the ears, mouth slightly open as he breathed soft and slow. One hand curled near his cheek, lips full and parted, lashes long against freckled skin. Josh didn’t even care how sappy he sounded in his own head, but Tyler looked almost angelic.

Josh stared for a long time.

There was something about this light, this quiet, that made everything feel delicate. Like a snow globe scene, or a dream he wasn’t ready to wake from. But even more than that, there was something final about it too. Because this was it, the last morning, the last slow moment before everyone packed away and went back into the real world.

Josh swallowed, his chest ached, full in that bittersweet kind of way.

It was almost impossible not to think back.

Back to the start of camp, to the day Tyler arrived with his perfect clipboard posture and guarded eyes. To the way he’d been sharp and unreadable at first, a puzzle Josh had been so desperate to solve. He remembered the brushes, the teases, and all the almosts. How Tyler shut him down with a flat voice and a cold stare, how he’d convinced himself there was nothing there.

And yet, the way Tyler looked at him when he thought Josh wasn’t looking. The first kiss... messy and desperate in the shadows after a fight, and how Tyler bolted right after like the ground had opened under his feet.

Josh smiled at the memory... that kiss had wrecked him, and so had the second. And that the time in the counselor showers? God... the slick tile, the steam, the way Tyler clung to him, trembling and biting back every sound like it would kill him to be heard. They’d really had a fair share of hot moments.

But then... there was always the running.

And Josh had almost drowned in those moments, chest hollow, skin cold, telling himself not to take it personally, that it wasn’t about him, that Tyler just needed time.

It didn’t matter now...

Because Tyler was right there, beside him. He chose to stay and Josh really believed now that he would keep staying.

His gaze drifted back to Tyler’s face, watching the subtle twitch of his brow in sleep, the faint shift of his lips like he was chasing a thought through whatever dream he was having. Josh stayed still, afraid to break the moment.

And then Tyler stirred.

Only a shift at first, just a subtle rolling closer of a sleeping body, looking for warmth. But then his thigh nudged over Josh’s leg, and his hips followed. A soft gasp slipped from Tyler’s lips and Josh stilled, blinking at the warm, firm press against his thigh.

Oh...

Tyler was hard.

And now, still fast asleep, he was unconsciously grinding against Josh’s leg, shallow, barely there, but unmistakable. The tiniest noise left him... almost a whimper, and Josh bit down a laugh, muffled behind his smile.

Because even now, even like this.. unconscious and needy, Tyler was gorgeous in every single version of himself.

Then Tyler’s hips rolled forward again, a little firmer this time and the motion seemed to startle Tyler awake, or at least pull him partway there. His breath hitched, his brows drew in like he was catching the edges of awareness, testing whether the heat in his core was real or not.

One more unconscious thrust and Josh saw the flicker of realization.

Tyler’s eyes cracked open.

They landed low, somewhere around Josh’s waist, eyes still glassy with sleep. And Josh didn’t move, he just watched him. He watched the way Tyler slowly lifted his gaze, trailing up his bare chest, past his collarbones, hesitating like he was praying Josh was still asleep.

He wasn’t.

And their eyes met.

The blush hit Tyler’s cheeks instantly... flush and deep and helpless.

Josh’s voice was a low rasp, still thick from sleep. “Dreamin’ of somethin’?”

Tyler’s brows twitched, mortified but clearly not planning to stop. “Shut up,” he muttered, cheeks flaming, though his hips betrayed him again, grinding once more into Josh’s thigh.

Josh grinned, his tone teasing but laced with affection. “Need help with that?”

His hand was already twitching by his side, aching to touch. Tyler groaned, covering his face with the back of his wrist like he could somehow hide his entire existence that way.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied, hips moving again, slower this time, with the kind of pressure that made Josh swallow.

“Uh-huh,” Josh said, smirking. “Sure you don’t.”

He pressed his thigh up deliberately and felt the sharp gasp against his skin, felt the way Tyler trembled.

“God,” Josh murmured, eyes warm, voice softening as his hand slid under the covers and found Tyler’s waist, his fingers splayed across his hip, tugging gently at the waistband. “Let me take care of you.”

Tyler finally looked at him again. And it was all there... still hazy, heavy with sleep, but something flickered behind his eyes. Vulnerability, hunger and trust. He nodded, a small, barely there movement, but it was enough.

Josh shifted, slowly pulled the sheets down, and drank in the sight.. Tyler in nothing but his boxers, already flushed, already leaking. The fabric was damp with it, sticking slightly where Josh cupped him through his underwear.

“Shit, baby,” Josh whispered, palming him slowly. “Already so worked up... makes me wonder what the dream was about..”

Tyler moaned, hips jumping into the contact. He threw his head back, exposing his neck, chest rising faster now as Josh’s fingers wrapped around him through the fabric.

“Josh,” he gasped, breath catching on the name.

Josh smirked and shifted on the bed, sliding lower beside Tyler’s hips, fingers curling under the waistband now. “You sound so fucking pretty when you say my name like this.”

He tugged the boxers down slowly, not just to tease... although that was part of it too, but mostly because there was something almost sacred about unwrapping him like this, like Tyler didn’t just trust him to touch, but to look, to see him like this.

The boxers hit the floor and Tyler’s cock stood flushed and slick, twitching against his stomach.

Josh wasted no time, he spread Tyler’s legs and kissed the crease of his thigh, nuzzled the curls at the base, inhaling like he was trying to commit this scent to memory. Then he dragged his tongue up the full length, one long swipe, until Tyler gasped and arched off the bed.

His hand tangled in Josh’s hair immediately, fingers gripping tight.

“Fuck,” Tyler breathed when Josh took him into his mouth, already unraveling.

Josh grinned around him, lips slick as he swallowed him down, working him with slow suction and soft moans. His own cock stirred, hardening from the taste of him, from the sound of him. Tyler was so damn responsive, so real in this moment, panting and trembling like Josh was the only thing anchoring him.

Josh’s mouth worked over him, tongue tracing every vein, lips tightening with just the right pressure, teasing the underside until Tyler’s hips bucked off the mattress. Then he picked up rhythm, sinking down deeper with each bob, hollowing his cheeks and humming low in his throat like he knew exactly what that would do.

Tyler’s moans got ragged, body taut like a live wire, chest heaving under Josh’s touch. He kept gasping Josh’s name like a prayer, falling apart in his hands. Every tug of his fingers in Josh’s hair was half a plea, half an anchor, grounding him in the heat and slick and want.

And it was obvious... by the way his thighs quivered, by how his cock twitched against Josh’s tongue, by the broken stutters of his breath and the desperate pulls on his hair... it was obvious he was already close.

Josh pulled off with a wet pop, breath warm against Tyler’s skin as he stroked him with one hand, slick and firm. “Come on, baby,” he whispered, voice thick with heat. “Come down my throat... you know you want to.”

And then he took him again, slow and deep this time, swallowing him whole in one smooth glide. His tongue pressed underneath as he bobbed his head in a rhythm that left Tyler gasping.

Tyler didn’t last long after that, just a few more strokes of Josh’s mouth and he broke... biting down on his lip, back arching off the bed as he came with a strangled gasp, eyes fluttering shut and body shuddering under the weight of it.

Josh swallowed every drop, working him through it with a few more slow pulls.

Then he kissed the sensitive tip, soft and grateful, before starting the slow journey back up. He kissed Tyler’s stomach, his ribs, every inch of glowing skin. One over his heart, one to the hollow of his throat. Then finally, he reached his mouth.

He kissed his lips once, then again, and again, like he couldn’t help himself.

“Good morning, Ty,” he whispered between kisses.

Tyler smiled, loose, wrecked and content. “Morning, Joshie.”

Josh actually laughed, helpless and giddy, and let the full weight of himself sink onto Tyler’s chest. He buried his face into the crook of his neck and just breathed him in.

And for a long, golden moment... neither of them moved.

Josh felt so full all of a sudden...

Not the kind of full that bloated or swelled or pressed against your ribs, but the kind that settled deep in the chest, like something permanent. He didn’t even try to name the feeling at first, but as Tyler shifted beneath him, soft and flushed, Josh realized.

This was it.

God... this was love.

He didn’t know when it had bloomed exactly, or when it had rooted itself so deep he couldn’t shake it loose if he tried, but now it was everywhere. In the smell of Tyler’s hair, in the way his fingers occasionally twitched against his skin, in the lazy, satisfied smile he wore now.

Josh smiled too, and pressed his lips to Tyler’s neck. Just once at first, then again, lower and slower. He kissed across the hollow of his throat, then lower still, until Tyler stirred with a hum and a small, sleepy stretch.

But he didn’t stop him.

Tyler let his head fall to the side, eyes fluttering closed again, mouth parted. His breathing had started to sync with Josh’s a while ago, but now it shifted, hitched, caught on the rhythm of Josh’s lips trailing down his skin.

Josh took his time, there was no rush, no one to impress, no timer counting down the seconds. Just Tyler, and this morning, and the sun painting gold across his skin. He mouthed along Tyler’s collarbone, then trailed his tongue down to the center of his chest.

And that was the moment Tyler’s breath stuttered. A tiny catch, almost shy, but Josh felt it and he grinned against his skin.

"Still sensitive?" he murmured, but Tyler didn’t answer, just swallowed thickly and arched into the touch as Josh finally dragged his tongue over one peaked nipple.

The moan Tyler gave was breathy and broken, like he hadn’t meant to let it out. His fingers found Josh’s hair again, only this time not in desperation, but in reverence... stroking softly, like he couldn’t believe this was real.

Josh moved to the other side, teasing with open-mouthed kisses first, then another soft lick. Tyler’s back arched again, and when Josh glanced up, Tyler’s cheeks were flushed, his lips parted, his eyes half-lidded.

Josh didn’t need a green light.

He crawled up slowly, mouth tracing every inch of skin along the way. Tyler met him halfway, grabbing his jaw and kissing him open-mouthed, sloppy and deep. They both gasped as their hips ground together, Josh still in his boxers, Tyler bare underneath, and the friction made Tyler moan again, breath catching right into Josh’s mouth.

"Fuck, again," Tyler whispered, his voice was hushed and desperate. "Do that again."

Josh did, dragged himself down, rocked his hips in slow, deep rolls against Tyler’s. Their cocks brushed, and the sensation made Tyler’s fingers dig into Josh’s back.

They both groaned this time.

It wasn’t frantic, it wasn’t even particularly urgent, it was soft and warm and full of feeling, like they were building something instead of chasing it. And that knowledge alone made Josh’s head spin a little. Because this wasn’t just sex anymore, this was the slow fall into something sacred.

His eyes lingered on Tyler’s, searching, holding, until the silence between them felt thick with something heavier than words, something unspeakable... Then, with a final kiss on the corner of Tyler’s mouth, Josh began the slow descent again.

He kissed along Tyler’s side, lips brushing his ribs and the soft, sensitive skin stretched over the bone. “God,” Josh murmured against him, “you’re soft in the weirdest places.”

Tyler let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed as heat coiled deep in his belly. Every time Josh said something like that, so honest and awestruck, it made something deep in him crack open.

“I can’t wait to taste every inch of you,” Josh whispered, voice husky and slow, and it shouldn’t have made Tyler’s cock twitch the way it did, but it did. And he whined, quiet and desperate.

Josh reached his hipbone, leaving open-mouthed kisses there, and Tyler was officially losing it again.

“Josh...” he gasped, hips twitching. “Josh.”

Josh looked up with hooded eyes, expectant and calm. But Tyler was anything but.

“I want you to fuck me,” Tyler whispered, eyes wide and pleading. “Please.”

Josh’s lips brushed his hip again, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he sat up on his knees, dragging his hands down Tyler’s chest, then over the planes of his stomach until they settled possessively at his hips.

And before Tyler could process it, Josh turned him gently onto his stomach.

He followed close behind, laying himself over Tyler’s back, chest flush to warm skin, and he breathed a low whisper into his ear. “I’m not gonna fuck you."

Tyler groaned, hips pressing back into Josh’s crotch with pathetic need, silently trying to protest with the curve of his ass and the stiffness of his cock. But Josh only laughed, kissed the back of his neck, and kept going.

“I’m not gonna fuck you...” he repeated, mouth brushing over a shoulder blade now, lips reverent. “I’m going to have sweet, unbearably slow sex with you.”

He rolled his hips forward as he said it, just once, a gentle wave of heat and promise against Tyler’s ass. Tyler shuddered beneath him.

Josh smiled as he shifted the weight of his body piece by piece until only his lips remained, tracing a molten path along the dip of Tyler’s spine.

“But first,” he murmured, voice gravel-soft against flushed skin, “I’m gonna taste every single fucking inch of you.”

He kissed just beneath Tyler’s shoulder blade, slow and open-mouthed, Tyler’s breath caught.

“Every...” Another kiss, lower this time, at the curve where ribs met muscle. Josh’s fingers trailed down alongside his mouth, warm palms ghosting over the softest skin. Tyler tensed slightly under the touch, not from discomfort, but from a growing awareness, a growing ache.

“Single...” Josh breathed the word more than spoke it, mouth landing at the small of Tyler’s back now, kissing deeper, wetter. His hands smoothed along Tyler’s sides, sliding under him and then back again, anchoring him gently while his thumbs pressed into the curves of Tyler’s hips.

Tyler’s heart was pounding, his breath hitched sharply as Josh’s lips descended yet again, slower now, like he wanted Tyler to feel every inch of the path he was tracing with his mouth. He reached the base of his spine and paused for a moment, exhaling against the warm skin there, watching the goosebumps rise.

“Inch,” he whispered.

And then he kissed just above the swell of Tyler’s ass. Just a press of lips, but Tyler’s whole body jerked with a sharp inhale, because he knew now... he knew exactly where this was going.

Josh spread him gently, hands careful and slow, like he was unfolding a secret.

Then came another kiss, this time on the curve of one cheek.

Another lower, more open, with tongue and heat.

Tyler moaned, breathless, already half-gone. His hips rolled back instinctively, seeking contact, and Josh groaned low in his throat like Tyler’s need had physically hit him.

“Josh...” Tyler’s voice cracked.

But Josh was already there, already kissing along the inside of his thighs, soft and wet and maddening.

And then.. he kissed right over Tyler’s hole. He flicked his tongue right there and Tyler gasped, spine arching.

“Fuck... Josh!” he choked out, voice cracking.

Josh chuckled against him, low and warm, the vibration making Tyler whimper.

“Every single inch, baby.”

“I haven’t even showered-”

“Mmm, even better,” Josh groaned, tongue licking across the seam, slow and unashamed, relishing in the way Tyler tasted. Like sweat and salt and... so undeniably Tyler.

And then he really went for it. He licked over Tyler’s hole in slow, steady drags, teasing and tasting, worshiping every part of him. His grip on Tyler’s ass tightened, spreading him further as he moaned into him.

“Fuck, you taste so good, baby,” Josh murmured, lips slick, voice wrecked with need. His eyes were dark and heavy-lidded, drunk on the sight of Tyler spread out beneath him, the taste of him hot on his tongue.

Tyler whimpered at the praise, at the feel of breath against wet skin, and ground back harder into Josh’s mouth, shameless now. His hips rolled with increasing urgency, back against Josh, forward into the sweat-damp sheets, chasing friction on both ends.

Josh groaned when Tyler rutted against him, lapping deeper, his hands gripping the backs of Tyler’s thighs, spreading him wide, holding him open like a feast he had no plans of walking away from.

“Jesus... Josh,” Tyler gasped, the pressure mounting again too fast, too suddenly, like a wave rising beneath him with no warning. “I- fuck... I can’t-”

Josh didn’t pause, he didn’t even slow down, he dove in harder, tongue working in deep circles, his nose pressed firm into the cleft of Tyler’s ass, breathing him in like it gave him oxygen.

Tyler’s body was buckling, his thighs trembling. The orgasm was building sharp and hot in his stomach, and it scared him a little, the way it was overtaking him so soon again, how completely he was unraveling.

His voice cracked. “Fuck... Josh- I think I’m gonna come again-”

Josh only moaned against him, the sound thick and primal. “Yeah?” he rasped. “Come on then, baby... Come for me again.”

And then Josh brought his thumb up, the pad of it pressing softly but precisely into the space just behind Tyler’s balls, with just enough pressure to light up every nerve ending.

And that was it... Tyler broke.

His body seized with a high, choked-off cry as the second orgasm slammed into him like a freight train... brutal and dizzying in its intensity.

His cock twitched helplessly against the mattress, untouched, as pleasure ripped through him in pulses. His back arched, toes curling, fingers clawing at the sheets, and Josh just held him through it, still licking, slower now but no less worshipful.

Tyler shook all over, chest heaving, face pressed into the pillow, overwhelmed and completely undone.

Josh let him ride it out, fingers gentle on Tyler’s trembling thighs, lips moving slowly up the curve of his lower back. He kissed along his spine, between his shoulder blades, on one shoulder, then the other, until finally, Tyler’s breath evened out into soft, shaky exhales.

A contented sigh escaped him like the last ripple of a storm, and Josh leaned over him fully now, curling an arm around his waist to coax him gently onto his back.

Their mouths met again in a soft kiss and even though Tyler’s limbs were soft as jelly, he still lifted one hand to Josh’s shoulder, trailing it lazily down his arm like he couldn’t not touch him. Josh braced himself on his forearms, hovering just enough to keep his weight off Tyler while their mouths moved together, slow and deep and warm.

But Tyler had other plans.

He wrapped both arms around Josh’s middle and pulled, with surprising strength. Josh let out a startled laugh, cut off as his body crashed down on top of Tyler with full weight, chests pressing together, legs tangling.

The impact forced a deep groan from Josh’s throat, muffled right into Tyler’s mouth, because the shift had pushed his still hard cock flush against Tyler’s hip.

Josh’s knee slid between Tyler’s thighs as he shifted, instinctively grinding down in a slow roll. Tyler gasped at the sudden pressure against his leg, and then he realized.

Josh was still hard, still untouched.

Tyler pulled back just enough to look up at him, dazed and surprised, and Josh smirked a little, biting at Tyler’s bottom lip in a way that made heat flicker low in his stomach. Josh’s hand slid down to Tyler’s thigh, lifting it, bending it gently at the knee, and then ground against him again, cock brushing the curve of his ass.

A strained moan left Josh’s throat.

“Shit Tyler... you think you’ve got one more in you?” he asked, his grin playful but voice hoarse, weighted with want.

Tyler opened his mouth, caught somewhere between protest and surrender, but the next roll of Josh’s hips had him gasping, the pressure perfectly placed, slow and deliberate and maddeningly controlled. His whole body reacted, warmth blooming in his belly like again, like a reflex.

He didn’t even need to speak... he just nodded, wide-eyed like he couldn’t believe how badly he still wanted this.

“Yeah?” Josh said, voice rough with approval. His grip on Tyler’s thigh tightened. “Oh, you’re gonna take me so good... All relaxed and pliant. I can already feel it.”

Tyler groaned, barely coherent, as Josh pulled back onto his knees and finally tugged off his boxers. Tyler watched, with a breath stuck somewhere at his throat, as Josh bent his legs farther, exposing him completely. His slick hole still pulsed faintly, open and waiting, and when Josh groaned at the sight, low and deep in his chest. Tyler flushed head to toe.

“Fuck... so perfect for me already,” Josh murmured.

Before Tyler could respond, before he even had the chance to realize what Josh was doing, Josh dipped his fingers into the warm mess Tyler had left behind on the sheets, coating them in the substance, then pressed two fingers against his rim.

Tyler sucked in a breath, but there was no resistance, they slid in with maddening ease.

A broken moan escaped his lips as his back arched, his body welcoming the intrusion greedily, clenching down around Josh’s fingers.

He was walking the thin line of overstimulation, every nerve ending still humming from his last orgasm, but the glide of Josh’s fingers inside him, the familiar stretch and pressure, sent a tingle blooming in his belly again. And soon he was pushing down onto them, chasing the sensation, already desperate for more.

“So eager...” Josh murmured, slowly pumping in and out. “So ready for me.”

Tyler couldn’t believe how quickly his cock was filling again. His nerves were still kind of raw, but somehow, somehow, Josh knew exactly how to coax pleasure without tipping him into pain. His fingers stroked carefully, brushing his prostate just enough to make Tyler’s spine light up.

Josh climbed up over him again, mouth trailing soft, unhurried kisses over Tyler’s throat, his cheek, their mouths meeting again even as his fingers worked inside him. It was overwhelming and gentle at the same time... it was everything.

“Josh...” Tyler whimpered, writhing beneath him, breath coming faster. “Josh, please...”

Josh cocked an eyebrow at him but didn’t stop. “Please what?”

“I need to feel you,” Tyler gasped, eyes darting to Josh’s cock like he’d been hypnotized. “Come on, Josh, please-”

Josh smirked, never breaking rhythm, teasing his fingers inside in the perfect stroke that made Tyler gasp again. “So impatient.”

Tyler whined in pure desperation. “God! Josh... fuck me already, please-”

Finally, Josh slipped his fingers free, and Tyler let out a broken gasp at the loss, hips twitching like they didn’t know what to do without the fullness.

“I told you,” Josh murmured, reaching for the lube beside the bed, unscrewing the cap slowly, “I’m not gonna fuck you...”

He slicked Tyler’s hole again, watching the way it twitched under his touch, then ran lube over his own aching cock with a low hiss. Leaning down, his face close, gaze searing, he lined himself up and dragged the head through the wetness.

“I...” he said, voice low as he started to press forward, stretching Tyler open with agonizing care, “...wanna make love...”

He pushed in deeper, filling him steadily.

“...to my boyfriend.”

Tyler’s eyes snapped open, his breath caught in his throat. Boyfriend? His mind scrambled for context... until it hit him.

He’d said it yesterday, sleep-drunk and blissed out, kissing Josh like he believed it could make the world stop spinning.

His face lit up in a flush so deep it reached the tips of his ears. He instinctively raised a hand to cover it, wanting to hide, wishing he could disappear under the weight of the word.

But then Josh was fully inside him, sinking in with one long, slow thrust until he was buried to the hilt. And all Tyler could do was moan as he stretched to take him.

“Oh my god...” Tyler whimpered, blinking up at him, overwhelmed by sensation, by the stretch, by the meaning. His face was wrecked and pink and so utterly real.

“I did say that yesterday, didn’t I?” he finally managed, hand still half covering his eyes.

Josh grinned, proud and a little wicked. “Oh yes you did.”

Tyler groaned and fully covered his face this time, hiding behind his fingers, but Josh didn’t let the moment sit. He pulled out almost all the way, then pushed back in, just as slow, just as deep.

Tyler gasped and Josh leaned close again, whispering against his lips.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I liked it.”

And then he began to move with long, unhurried thrusts, hips rolling like waves, hands brushing over Tyler’s chest and sides, touching him like he was something sacred.

“Yeah?” Tyler rasped, their breath mingling in the small space between them, lips close but not quite touching.

But his eyes were already shut, lost in the rhythm. Every inch of Josh’s cock dragged across his walls with maddening precision, and each featherlight stroke of his hands grounded him just enough not to float away entirely.

“Yeah,” Josh breathed. “Wanna hear you say it again.”

He leaned down, pressing kisses to Tyler’s neck, murmuring his name into his skin as he moved. His pace picked up slightly, not rough, just... faster, deeper. And Tyler felt everything... Every kiss, every thrust, every slow slide of Josh’s body over his cock, timed perfectly to each roll of his hips.

It was all too much and not enough. His head tilted back, lips parted, moans spilling freely now.

Then Josh shifted.

He slid his arms under Tyler’s legs, gently bending them higher as he braced himself upright, his knees tucked under Tyler’s thighs without ever pulling out. The new angle made Tyler gasp, wrecked and raw, as Josh rocked forward again, deeper now, and god... he could feel every inch.

Josh glanced down, mesmerized by the sight of himself sliding in and out of Tyler’s slick heat, and his hand reached between them. He wrapped his fingers around Tyler’s cock, stroking slow at first, but quickly syncing to the pace of his hips.

Tyler couldn’t even think, his vision blurred and the world narrowed down to heat and breath and the tight stretch of being filled again and again.

He gasped, choked, twisted his hands in the sheets. “Josh... Josh I-”

And there it was again.

That unmistakable pull, urgent and inevitable. Another orgasm was curling through him, faster than he thought possible, building like a firestorm in his belly. He was flying and unraveling all at once, overwhelmed to the point of tears.

Josh didn’t slow down... his thrusts deepened, hips snapping forward, fingers gripping Tyler’s cock tighter now, jerking him with precise strokes around the tip.

“You gonna come again, baby?” Josh groaned, eyes dark, his voice low and hungry.

Tyler could only whimper and nod, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He didn’t know whether to breathe harder or stop breathing altogether. It was too much, but he was lingering right there, suspended at the edge like he’d been strung out on a wire.

His whole body was trembling, not from tension anymore, but from the weight of everything... the overstimulation, the heat in his blood, the relentless pressure building with no promise of release. He wasn’t even sure if he could tip over again or if he was just going to burn alive like this, wrecked and wide open, stuck in some impossible in-between. And it made him feel helpless and desperate.

But of course Josh felt it, so he leaned closer, breath hot against Tyler’s ear.

“Yeah?” he rasped, hand never stopping. “Fuck, I can go forever like this... gonna keep fucking you till you come all over me again, till you’re shaking and crying and squeezing me so tight I can’t fucking breathe.”

Tyler sobbed a broken sound, barely a word. “Josh, I can’t-”

“Oh, you can,” Josh growled, thrusts never faltering. “And you will. You don’t have a choice, baby... I’m not stopping till I see it. Wanna watch you fall apart for me one more time.”

And that was it... Tyler shattered.

His third orgasm tore through him like lightning... white hot and soul splitting. His whole body seized, mouth falling open in a silent cry as he came hard over Josh’s hand and his own stomach, his walls clenched around Josh with perfect pressure.

And that was all it took for Josh...

The force with which Tyler squeezed around him, the way he looked with his eyes rolled back, lips parted, brows furrowed in bliss, that vision alone pushed him over the edge. He groaned loud, rhythm faltering, and with a final, deep thrust, he came too... hips stuttering as he spilled inside, his whole body jerking, collapsing forward until his face was buried in the crook of Tyler’s neck.

It was like two pieces of a puzzle locking into place... shaking, tangled and trembling, hearts thudding wildly in sync, breath fanning hot across each other’s skin.

They were wrecked. They were whole.

They came down together, breath by breath, heartbeat by heartbeat.

The room was warm with the remnants of golden morning light, and Josh slowly shifted onto his side, curling into Tyler’s space with a soft exhale. His limbs felt heavy, boneless and Tyler wasn’t doing much better... his body loose, chest still rising and falling like he hadn’t quite returned to earth yet.

Silence stretched between them, not awkward, just full.

Then Tyler let out a groan, soft and disbelieving. “Oh my god... I think I just went through a spiritual awakening or something.”

Josh let out a weak, breathless chuckle, nuzzling in closer. His nose brushed Tyler’s shoulder before he started pressing lazy affectionate kisses there, like his lips didn’t have the energy to do anything else. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “It was something.”

Tyler tried to move. Or at least, he thought about trying, but his limbs didn’t respond. It was like his body had been replaced with something softer and less obedient. “I think you actually ruined me...” he muttered, voice hoarse and small.

Josh glanced up, the grin he wore so damn cute and smug that Tyler would’ve hit him if he had the strength. He looked way too proud of himself. Playfully guilty.. like he was saying yeah I did that ...and well... he absolutely had.

And Tyler swore he fell for him a little more right then.

It hit him out of nowhere, that feeling... curling low and warm in his chest like sunlight and he didn’t even try to shake it. He didn’t want to.

Instead, he willed his body to finally move and turned on his side to face Josh, eyes a little clearer now, expression edged with something more serious. “So...” he began, voice soft and almost shy, “the uh... the thing I said yesterday... is that, like... okay with you?”

Josh blinked, searching for a beat, trying to figure out what thing Tyler had in mind, until realization dawned. His smile curled into something teasing, lips tugging up just enough to make Tyler’s stomach flip.

“Hold on,” he said. “Is this your way of asking me to be your boyfriend?”

Tyler groaned. “God, you’re such a-” he bit the inside of his cheek, his face flushing pink again, but he didn’t look away. “Yeah... yeah, I guess it is.”

Josh’s eyes softened instantly. The grin never left, but it melted into something warmer and real. He cuddled closer, one arm draping over Tyler’s waist as he bit on his lower lip. Then he leaned up, brushing their lips together in a soft, slow kiss that lingered.

“Of course I’ll be your boyfriend,” he whispered, forehead resting against Tyler’s as they exhaled in sync.

Tyler kissed him again, sow and quiet and full of gratitude. Just because he could ,just because he wanted to.

They stayed like that for a while, tangled and drowsy and completely satisfied. And when sleep pulled at them again, neither of them fought it.

They drifted off together... warm, spent, and smiling.

Chapter Text

When they woke again, the room had shifted.

The golden morning had mellowed into a brighter, harsher light, and the air wasn’t quite so still. Somewhere outside, an engine hummed to life, car doors slammed and footsteps shuffled back and forth on gravel. Someone was already packing, hauling stuff from cabin to car, slowly breaking down what remained of summer.

Inside the cabin, though, everything was still soft.

They lay facing each other, just watching.

Tyler’s eyes were barely open, lashes squinting in the light, cheek creased from the pillow. Josh’s hair was sticking up in every direction like a nest of static. They were both flushed, warm, and pink in the way only sleep and sex could make someone.

There was a dazed stillness to it all... heavy limbs, thoughts slower than usual, bodies just starting to remember they were alive.

Josh smiled first, groggy and dopey. Full of something light and stupid and... real.

“Hi boyfriend,” he mumbled.

Tyler grinned too, not the cocky or forced kind, but the sort that made his eyes squint tighter and his freckles dance.

“Hi boyfriend.”

They lay there like that for a beat longer, nothing in the world pressing hard enough to move them, until Josh’s back gave an audible crack as he groaned and stretched his arms overhead, flopping back dramatically.

“Okay,” he sighed. “I have to move or I’ll turn into a raisin.”

He sat up with a wince and spotted the half-empty water bottle on the side table. His eyes locked on it like a lifeline. “Oh, thank god.”

He chugged half of it in one go, and barely had time to lower it before Tyler scrambled upright beside him, bleary but determined, making grabby hands like a feral kitten. Josh handed it over wordlessly and Tyler snatched it and drank the rest of it like he’d just crossed a desert.

“Jesus,” Tyler muttered when he finished the bottle, still breathless. “I feel like I got steamrolled by an emotional support truck.”

Josh barked a laugh, slumping back against the wall. “Well… we did have a hell of a morning.”

Tyler snorted, but he couldn't help the blush that crept into his cheeks. His ears were turning pink as well, and it was objectively adorable.

Josh smirked, all smug suddenly. “And I mean... we definitely shouldn’t forget about yesterday night either.”

Tyler, in the middle of scrunching the empty plastic bottle, froze. Josh saw it happen in real time... the moment it hit. Like a switch flipping behind his eyes

First, the faintest furrow of confusion, then the widening pupils, and then... the absolute horror.

Tyler slowly lowered the bottle.

“Oh my god,” he groaned.

Josh couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his mouth.

Tyler turned to him, frantic. “Josh… please tell me we didn’t make out in front of everyone yesterday.”

Well,” Josh raised his eyebrows like he was thinking about it. “We didn’t…”

Tyler’s eyes narrowed with dread. “...What does that mean?”

Josh grinned wider, voice casual. “You did.”

Tyler looked ready to pass out.

“No.”

Josh nodded, clearly enjoying this. “Oh yeah.”

Tyler stared at him like he was waiting for a punchline, Josh offered none.

“No,” Tyler said again, hands already dragging over his face. “No no no no... fuck.”

Josh giggled, way too proud of himself. “You made out with me in front of everyone like I was the last drop of water in a hundred-mile radius.”

Tyler dropped his face into both hands. “Jesus... Stop, you’re lying.”

Josh leaned closer, voice teasing. “Had I stayed in your lap any longer, you probably would’ve dry-humped me too.”

Tyler groaned into his palms. “Oh my god, oh my fucking god...”

Josh leaned his head back against the wall, very relaxed. “In your defense, you were so confident about it. Had me pinned against that couch like we were auditioning for summer’s hottest power couple.”

Tyler let out a noise that might’ve been a groan or a dying animal. “Please tell me I didn’t say anything embarrassing.”

Josh hummed like he was thinking. “Well... you don’t have to worry too much about that. I mean... your mouth was way too busy for talking anyway.”

Tyler buried his face back in his hands. “Josh.”

Josh was laughing now, helpless. He nudged Tyler’s shoulder. “Relax. Everyone was drunk off their asses, I’m pretty sure no one even remembers.”

But oh...

how wrong he was about that.

...

There was a group breakfast scheduled in the mess hall, one last meal before everyone started peeling away in their cars. So Tyler and Josh got dressed slowly, still kind of drunk on sleep and each other, dragging limbs into clothes like the fabric personally offended them.

By the time they stepped outside, the air was already warm. The light was bright and clear now, sharp in a way that made Tyler’s chest feel weirdly tight. He blinked against it and tried not to think too hard.

They weren’t even halfway across the lawn when a voice rang out.

“Well morning, lovebirds,” Debby chirped, jogging up to them with an exaggerated wiggle of her eyebrows. “Or should I say... the stars of last night’s main event?”

Tyler groaned and clapped a hand over his face. “Oh my god.”

Josh just laughed, easy and unbothered. “Morning, Debs.”

Tyler, on the other hand, was actively cringing. He knew it. He fucking knew people would remember. No one had been that drunk. Not enough to forget the show that he gave them yesterday, anyway.

And to be completely honest... if he saw someone making out with their friend in the middle of a drunken truth or dare game, he’d remember it too. He probably wouldn’t look away either. But... could people maybe not tease him about it? Just this once?

Well the answer was no...

Because Morgan joined them a moment later, coffee mug in hand, eyes flicking between them both with the subtlety of a hawk circling a roadkill. She didn’t say anything, just sipped her coffee and took a few deliberate steps around them, looking at their faces like she was inspecting a sculpture.

Tyler’s nostrils flared as he gave an infuriated exhale through his nose. “What?” he snapped, somehow resignedly.

Morgan squinted, tilted her head. “Oh, nothing... just trying to memorize your faces while you’re not sucking on each other.”

Tyler choked on air. “Oh Jesus Christ.”

Josh turned pink immediately. “Dude.”

Debby, who was standing next to them like a younger sister egging on the chaos, burst out laughing. “Yeah, I mean... for all we know, it might become a rare sight.”

Morgan didn’t budge, still sipping with that deadpan calm. “Exactly. Gotta take it in.” She took another dramatic sip before adding, “I mean... god knows when you guys decide to bless us with another make-out sesh.”

That was when Mark arrived, flopping into the group with a big yawn and sleep-flattened hair. He looked like he’d lost a battle with the night... dark circles under his eyes, pale skin, lips dry and cracked like someone had drained him of all moisture and joy.

Tyler gave him a quick glance, and under normal circumstances, he definitely would’ve made a comment and teased him about the whole disaster vibe. But he was the one getting roasted right now, so frankly, he had bigger fish to fry.

He opened his mouth to respond to Morgan, but he immediately regretted it, because no actual words came out, just a short wheeze.

So Josh leaned into it instead.

“Hey!” he said, raising both hands in mock defense. “I had no say in that yesterday.. you all saw it happen- I was basically... publicly ambushed.”

Tyler blinked at him with disbelief, brows raised. His face was somewhere between stunned and betrayed. “Publicly ambushed?”

Josh threw him a look. “What? You did kiss me like your life depended on it.”

Tyler’s hand flew out automatically, smacking Josh in the center of the chest. “You’re not supposed to throw me under the bus like that! That’s not very... boyfriendy of you.”

Mark, who had just taken a sip from his water bottle, nearly choked. “Wait... what do you mean boyfriendy?”

The group went silent for one long, flat beat. Mark’s eyes scanned the circle, looking for any sign of shock, anything... but no one looked remotely surprised.

“Seriously?” he said, eyebrows up. “Am I the only one who didn’t know anything?”

Morgan shrugged. “You were busy sharpening knives in the woods, dude. Not exactly tuned into the gossip channel.”

Mark looked between Tyler and Josh again. “Has this been going on the whole summer?”

Josh and Tyler exchanged a look that said everything, then turned back and offered matching expressions of sheepish guilt.

Mark took off his cap and ran a hand through his hair like he was recalibrating. “Man...” he muttered. “Y’know what? Whatever. I can’t even be mad. I can already taste my mom’s lasagna and garlic bread on my tongue, and I’m one hot bubble bath away from rebirth.”

That made everyone laugh, because yeah... at the end of a long summer, they all had something they were looking forward to back home. And Mark’s bubble bath fantasy was starting to sound pretty damn great.

Tyler cleared his throat. “Yeah... I- sorry, man. It was kind of a...” He faltered. A what? ...A whirlwind? A slow-motion trainwreck? A magnetic chaos? He wasn’t sure what words to use to describe whatever this was.

Instead, he settled for, “We weren’t exactly expecting it to be... public information," he said, wincing a little. Then he added, quieter, but still clear. “Yet.”

And it was just one tiny added word, but it made Josh’s heart do something completely stupid in his chest.

Mark smirked. “Well... I suppose you’ve only got yourself to thank for not meeting that expectation, don’t you?”

Tyler groaned and shoved at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

They started walking toward the mess hall together, laughter still bubbling around them, easy and familiar. The air felt lighter somehow. Still final... but not so heavy anymore.

...

The breakfast hit different.

Not just because there were no kids around... no chaos, no clatter of dishes or chairs scraping all over the place. But mostly because everyone knew it was the last one.

There were no chore charts taped to the walls, no daily schedule propped up in its usual corner in Jenna’s neat cursive. Just a plain, emptied-out mess hall and a dozen sleepy adults passing around platters of toast, fruit, and eggs in a quiet, contented haze.

It wasn’t sad yet, it was... gentle.

Cutlery clinked softly, shoulders bumped, eyes met across the table and held, a silent acknowledgment shared between those who knew this part was ending. The smell of warm food mixed with the scent of sun lotion and wood polish, something that clung to the mess hall walls all summer and would still be there come next year.

In a way, it was peaceful, like a final moment suspended in time.

Eventually, Morgan pushed her chair back with a loud creak and clapped her hands once. “Alright, nerds. I gotta bounce soon, but not before we immortalize these beautiful faces.”

Groans echoed lightly across the room.

“Seriously?” Mark said, chewing his last bite. “You can’t just leave like a normal person?”

“Oh no, no. Group photo first, cry later.” She was already digging her phone out of her hoodie pocket.

They spilled onto the lawn with half-full coffee mugs and sleepy squints, a few girls adjusting their hair in a car window. Morgan propped her phone against a water bottle and set the timer, then ran to join them.

Josh and Tyler stood shoulder to shoulder in the back row, their arms brushing. At the last second, Josh slung an arm around Tyler’s waist, casual at first, but then it crept lower... and lower. And just as the timer beeped, his hand gave Tyler’s ass a cheeky squeeze.

Tyler’s head whipped toward him, eyes wide. Are you serious?

But Josh didn’t even blink. He stared straight ahead, the picture of pure innocence.

Click.

Tyler had no idea if he turned back fast enough, or if the photo would capture his stunned side-eye forever.

Morgan, blissfully unaware, stood and started giving out hugs like party favors. “Alright, you weirdos. Love you all. Don’t be strangers.”

Jenna wrapped her up first. “Text us when you get there, okay?”

Morgan waved her off. “If I survive the long ride, maybe.”

She gave them all one last one-armed squeeze and a crooked grin, and then she jogged off toward her packed car, tossing them a peace sign as she disappeared down the gravel road.

The group slowly broke apart after that, each person wandering off to finish their own packing. Josh, Tyler, and Mark headed toward the cabins together, the sun climbing higher in the sky with every step.

Josh didn't even realize that he had trailed after Tyler instead of turning toward his own cabin, at least not until Mark cleared his throat.

“Uh... buddy?”

Josh blinked. “Huh?”

Mark pointed toward the porch in front of which he stopped. “Pretty sure your stuff’s still in that one.”

Josh stopped mid-step, cheeks already flushing pink when he turned around. “Oh... Right.”

Tyler turned too, grinning cheekily. “Planned to move in with me permanently or...?”

Josh rolled his eyes but smiled back, then gave Tyler a small wave and backtracked toward the correct porch.

Once Josh and Mark got inside, they didn’t linger long before diving into their closets and drawers, pulling out the last of their stuff and checking every corner twice to make sure nothing was left behind.

They packed in silence for a while, the room filled only with the sound of zippers, rustling fabric, and the occasional curse when something snagged. They stood back to back, both crouched over their bags, when Mark finally broke the quiet.

“So... you and Tyler, huh?”

Josh glanced over his shoulder to find Mark peeking at him from behind a duffel. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah.”

Mark nodded and went back to folding a shirt. “I dunno if I’m more mad that you didn’t tell your roommate, or more mad that, as the roommate, I didn’t notice anything.”

Josh gave a sheepish laugh. “Yeah, sorry. It just... it was kinda complicated.”

Mark turned now, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Oh? Was Tyler being difficult in classic Tyler fashion?”

Josh laughed, short and fond, because of course Mark would say that. He was one of Tyler’s oldest camp friends, he’d probably seen every version of him. Josh couldn’t even be mad at the question.

But his smile faltered after a second. Because difficult wasn’t really the right word. Not for what Tyler had been through. Not for the way he’d still tried, even when scared. Tyler hadn’t shut him out on purpose, he hadn’t hurt Josh to be cruel, he was just...

Josh shook his head to himself. It didn’t matter. Mark didn’t need the whole story, and it wasn't like Josh could tell it anyway.

He offered a faint smile. “Kind of,” he said, but after a beat he shook his head, “Yeah, no... not really. He wasn’t... like I said, it’s complicated.”

Mark studied him for a second, but didn’t push. Just nodded again, slow and understanding. “Well... I’m glad it worked out for you guys.”

Josh looked up then and smiled slightly when he saw that Mark wasn’t being sarcastic.

Mark shrugged. “It’s true that he seems... I dunno, happier... softer. I think you’re good for him.”

Josh’s chest swelled a little, and he gave a quiet, honest, “Thanks, man.”

It warmed him more than he expected. Because Mark had been Tyler’s friend first, so the fact that he was offering that to him, that acceptance, that praise... it felt like a quiet kind of approval, a blessing, almost. And Josh hadn’t realized until now just how much he’d wanted that.

Mark bumped his shoulder gently and tossed a pair of socks into his bag. “Anyway... you both owe me big time for traumatizing me with your ‘R rated’ moment yesterday.”

Josh laughed. “Fair.”

...

Tyler sat back on his heels, hands paused mid-pack as the sounds of cars loading and cabins being emptied filtered in through the open window. Something about the noise felt weirdly hollow. Maybe because he knew it would soon be followed by quiet goodbyes.

He should’ve been used to it by now... the coming and going, the way camp always peeled people off one by one until it felt like the summer didn't happen at all. But this year felt different... because Josh would be one of those people.

With a sigh, he glanced down at the shirt he was about to fold.. only to realize it wasn't his. It was Josh’s.

There was a brief second where his body flinched, like it wanted to get up and go return it to Josh’s cabin. But the thought dissolved quickly when he caught the musky scent clinging to the fabric. He brought it closer and inhaled.

Yeah, there was no way he was giving this back.

Josh wasn’t going home with him physically, so if this was how he had to cope? So be it.

He finished folding the last pile of clothes and stuffed them into his bag, Josh’s shirt right along with them. His fingers lingered on the zipper, not pulling. Just... still.

A knock on the doorframe pulled him out of the haze. He looked up to see Debby standing there, arms crossed loosely over her chest, already in travel clothes.

“Hey,” she said. “Just came to say goodbye.”

Tyler straightened. “You heading out already?”

She nodded. “Mark’s finishing his coffee, we’re about to go.”

Tyler gave a small smile and nodded. “Right, I forgot you two are leaving together.”

Debby hesitated for half a second, then tilted her head with a smirk. “Don’t forget.. my promise stands outside of camp too.”

Tyler blinked, but when it clicked what she meant, he huffed softly. “You think you could actually take me?”

She gave him a short unimpressed look and he sighed and softened immediately. “Don’t worry... I really have no intention of hurting Josh.”

But even as the words left his mouth, something in his chest twisted. Because he knew better... Intentions weren’t everything, not unless you actually followed through. And Tyler, of all people, knew just how easily even the best ones could fall apart.

He bit that thought back down before it could bloom into something heavier and opened his arms in a silent invitation instead.

Debby walked into the hug without hesitation, tucking her chin briefly against his shoulder.

“Bye, Tyler,” she murmured. “Be good to him.”

He held her a second longer. “I will.”

And then she was gone, the door clicking softly behind her.

Tyler stood there for a second, staring at the closed door, then exhaled and got moving again. He zipped up the last of his bags, gave the room one final scan, and slung the duffels over his shoulder. The cabin looked strange now... too neat and still, like it had already forgotten he’d lived there.

He stepped outside into the sunlight, blinking against the brightness, and as he adjusted the strap on his shoulder, he spotted Josh walking toward his own cabin just a few steps away. Josh caught sight of him and grinned... wide, open and so ridiculously cute.

Tyler tried not to grin back, but he failed. And it stuck to his face.

He loaded his bags into the trunk of his car, then closed it with a soft thud. Before heading back to his own cabin, he noticed Mark nearby, leaning against his car with one arm draped over the open door. Instead of turning around, Tyler walked over.

Mark reached out, and their palms caught in a thigh clap. “What’s up, my man?”

Tyler patted him on the back. “Heard you're leaving already.”

"Yeah," Mark nodded, then paused and looked at him properly. His eyes searched Tyler’s face for something unspoken, and whatever he found there made him soften a little. The air between them shifted into something quieter and more understanding. Mark didn’t say it, but it was in his expression, that wordless kind of knowing that long-time friends could read.

“You seem happy.” His gaze drifted just slightly, toward Josh, who was on his porch hugging Debby goodbye.

Tyler followed his gaze and hesitated. His chest clenched without warning, and there it was again... that strange, hopeful ache that had been sitting behind his ribs since this morning. Because he was happy... but only while Josh was still here. And he wasn’t sure how he was going to feel once Josh actually left. Not until the moment actually came.

He bit the inside of his cheek and nodded anyway.

Mark smiled. “Well.. I’m happy for you, my friend.”

They hugged quickly again, arms slapping each other’s backs before pulling apart like neither of them knew how to hold softness too long.

“See ya next time. Love you, man,” Mark said.

“Love you too,” Tyler answered.

...

As much as Tyler hoped that the moment wouldn’t come... it did.

When he was done with his stuff, he ducked into the music cabin for one last sweep. Apart from the old piano, the room was mostly empty, but it still smelled the same, like string polish and dust warmed by the sun. He checked under the bench and in the back shelf, just in case, then turned to go.

And that was when he saw Josh, locking the door to the cabin he’d been staying in, duffel slung over his shoulder, steps slow as he made his way toward the parking lot.

Of course... It was time.

They gathered by Josh’s car once the trunk was shut, the satisfying thunk of it echoing slightly in the stillness. Dave was standing nearby, hands folded behind his back, looking his usual calm and professional self.

“Thank you, Josh,” Dave said warmly. “You’ve been a great addition to the counselor team. I’m sure everyone enjoyed having you here.”

Jenna, who was currently standing next to Tyler, gave a small snort and smirked sideways at him. “Some more than the others,” she muttered under her breath.

But before Tyler could react, she stepped forward with a bright smile. “Well, I know I have,” she said and pulled Josh into a hug so tight it forced the air out of his lungs.

Josh laughed, breathless. “Jesus, Jenna.”

“Take care of yourself,” she said seriously when they pulled back.

He nodded, still a little winded.

“And don’t let this one get the best of you,” she added, glancing meaningfully toward Tyler. It was said like a joke, but Josh heard the truth underneath.

He turned to Tyler then, but not before Jenna squeezed Dave’s hand and said, “Okay, we’ll leave you to it... Bye Josh!”

“Bye,” he called after them as they walked off.

And then it was just the two of them.

Tyler looked at Josh and had to fight the instinct to drop his eyes to the ground. Watching him leave was harder than he’d expected.

Josh stepped closer, hands landing gently on Tyler’s waist, his thumbs rubbing slow circles through the fabric of his shirt.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Tyler managed a thin smile. “Hey.”

Josh was smiling too, soft and warm in a way that felt like sunlight through a window. And Tyler felt it right behind his eyes, that telltale burn that meant he was dangerously close to tearing up under that gaze. But he blinked it back, shoved the feeling down into his chest, and cleared his throat.

“So what now?” he asked, voice a little too thin to pass for casual.

Josh didn’t answer right away, he just looked at him for a moment, like he could see everything Tyler wasn’t saying. The tight set of his jaw, the way his fingers twitched like they didn’t know what to hold onto, the kind of sadness that didn’t know how to show itself without cracking something open.

But Josh didn’t call it out, didn’t push. Instead, he did what he always did best... offered calmness in the form of plans and reassurance dressed up as logistics.

“I’ve gotta visit my parents and Gran for a few days,” Josh said, his eyes still scanning Tyler’s face. “But when I’m back, I’m coming straight to your place. So... better make sure your doorbell still works.”

Something about the way Josh said it... so certain, like it was just the natural order of things, made something in his chest unknot a little. It wasn’t a maybe, it wasn’t a question, it was just... happening. And that made it a little easier to breathe.

Tyler huffed out a breath, almost a laugh. “Yeah, you better make sure you don’t lose my number, ‘cause that doorbell won’t do shit if I’m jamming in the studio.”

Josh grinned, raising his eyebrows. “And your phone will?”

Tyler smirked. “Oh yeah. That thing I’ll be checking obsessively.”

Josh stepped even closer, his hands tightening on Tyler's waist, eyes falling down to his lips. “Like you’re obsessively checking me right now?”

Tyler didn’t move away, he just raised an eyebrow, his grin deepening as he followed the path of Josh's eyes. “I dunno... seems like it’s the other way around.”

Josh laughed through his nose.

And then he leaned forward the remaining few inches and kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed, or desperate. It was just long, and slow, and full of everything they didn’t quite have the words for yet.

It didn’t feel like a goodbye kiss, there was no finality in it, no sadness... just warmth. Like a tether being tied, not cut. Like the kind of kiss you give someone when you know you’re going to see them again, and again, and again. It was exactly what Tyler didn't know he needed.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads stayed pressed together, breathing in sync.

“Bye, boyfriend,” Josh murmured, eyes still closed.

Tyler pulled back just enough to look at him. “Bye, boyfriend.”

Their hands lingered, fingers intertwined, until the space between them stretched too far. Then Josh let go, climbed into the car with one last smile, and started the engine.

He pulled away slowly, but just before he turned on the gravel road, he stuck his head out the window and blew Tyler one more kiss.

Tyler caught it with a quiet smile, and watched the car disappear down the road.

Chapter Text

Tyler stood at the edge of the path, arms crossed loosely, watching as Josh’s car disappeared around the bend. The dust hadn’t even settled yet, but the silence already felt thicker.

Their goodbye had been so soft and sweet. Josh had smiled, kissed him slow, brushed his knuckles along Tyler’s jaw like they had all the time in the world.

And maybe they did.

But the thing about camp... the thing Tyler had learned the hard way, was that time didn’t move normally here. It bent and stretched and folded in on itself. Everything felt louder, closer, more intense. Like two months could somehow hold the weight of a lifetime.

And now, that lifetime was over. Packed up in a backseat and carried down a gravel road like it had never happened at all.

The camp was quiet now, most of the others had already gone, just Jenna and Dave remained, both fixtures of the place, living here year-round like part of the land itself. And even though their house wasn’t far from the road, the place still felt almost abandoned.

Tyler didn’t go far. He couldn’t, really.

Just a few steps toward the old bench by the road, the one half-swallowed by tall grass. He sank down onto it with a sigh, pulling his legs up under him, arms draped loosely around his knees. His eyes were still fixed on the spot where the car had vanished, like if he stared hard enough, it might reappear.

It didn’t.

Josh was gone. And Tyler didn’t know what to do with himself now that he wasn’t in a one-mile radius of the boy who’d somehow changed everything.

Because for the past two months, Josh had been everywhere. Not always beside him, but always somewhere near. There was never a day where they hadn’t seen each other, whether it was across the field, across the firepit, or across the walls Tyler had built around himself like armor.

Even when things were tense, especially then, he’d still felt Josh’s presence in every corner of camp. He’d always known exactly how far away he was at any given moment. He felt it in his chest.

And now, that presence had blinked out... easy as a snap of fingers. And in its place, there was nothing but stillness, seeping in deep, leaving Tyler completely alone.

A breeze moved through the grass, brushing his bare calf and he reached down and yanked the long green blade from the earth, twisting it between his fingers with a distant gaze. His car was already loaded, cabin cleared, nothing was tethering him here anymore.

But he just... couldn’t bring himself to leave.

So he sat, twisting the grass absentmindedly in his hands, letting the quiet settle over him like a blanket pulled too tightly. His thoughts drifted, slow and heavy, and somewhere in that quiet, a dull ache bloomed in his chest.

Because it felt like leaving would undo something. Like driving away would mean all summer would fade into memory the second he passed through the camp gates.

And that terrified him.

And he didn't know what it was... whether it was Josh, this summer, or everything that had happened, that finally taught him to try facing his fears instead of running from them or tucking them under the rug. But whatever it was... it made him circle back to that thought.

Because... would it really be so bad? To leave it all behind?

What was it actually, that he was leaving?

Josh’s smile was the first thing that surfaced in his mind. That easy, lopsided grin as he leaned in one last time and kissed him at the edge of the road. The gentle brush of knuckles along his jaw, the way he said “see you soon” like it was a promise and not just a goodbye.

It had been a gentle parting. No dramatics, no drawn-out sorrow, just soft smiles and a quiet certainty that they weren’t done yet. That this wasn’t an ending, only a pause.

And god, Tyler wanted to believe that.

His chest tightened at the memory of this morning... Josh’s weight above him, the soft glow of early light, the way he moved like worship, not lust. The way his hands mapped Tyler’s body like every inch meant something, like Tyler meant something.

He could still feel Josh’s mouth on his neck, his breath against his skin, the press of his forehead to Tyler’s as he whispered things that made Tyler feel like a person again. Loved... maybe. Maybe for the first time.

The warmth that bloomed in his chest at that thought was unbearable. Because it felt so good and so fragile at the same time.

His mind drifted back further, like the reel of the summer was being unwound in reverse. It drifted past the sweetness, past the soft kisses and the quiet laughter, past the late nights where they finally spoke like people instead of aching shadows.

And of course his mind took him back to the mess.

Back to the silence, back to the days when Josh couldn’t even look at him.

That was the part that punched the air out of his lungs... the memory of wandering the camp in a daze, feeling like a ghost, knowing Josh was somewhere nearby but unable to cross the invisible distance that had bloomed between them. It had swallowed him whole. He’d barely been sleeping, barely been eating, just... floating.

God, the weight of that week hit him now like it was happening all over again. His stomach churned at the memory of standing outside on the field, pretending he wasn’t hoping Josh would finally look his way.

He drifted to the moment he saw Josh with Debby, the catalyst for everything. To the soothing touch that Tyler misread as a romantic carres like a fucking idiot... and how he snapped when Josh came to his cabin, vomiting harsh words like something inside him had broken too fast to stop.

But that wasn’t even the worst of it. It wasn’t just that one moment.

It was all of them.

Every time Josh had reached out and Tyler had pulled away. Every time Josh had flirted, teased, softened, and Tyler met him with tension, silence or retreat. He’d shut down every genuine attempt Josh made to connect with him. Not just once... over and over, like some kind of cruel reflex.

And still... Josh had kept coming back. Like he hadn’t been hurt, like he believed in Tyler anyway.

A shaky breath punched out of his chest, and suddenly Tyler was crying.

Not gently, not prettily, his face scrunched up and his breath hitched as tears slipped down his cheeks, hot and fast. And fuck, it hurt. It hurt because he knew... he knew that Josh’s silence during that fragile stretch before things mended, his caution, his hesitance... all of it had been deserved.

And Tyler had no idea how he’d been forgiven or why Josh had come back. Why he hadn’t just walked away and left Tyler alone with the wreckage he’d created.

He pressed his knuckles to his mouth, tried to breathe through it, but it was no use. The guilt, the shame, and even the stupid aching gratefulness... it all poured out of him at once.

Because Josh was still there, even after everything. After all the shit Tyler had thrown at him, directly and indirectly, he’d still said goodbye with a kiss and a promise. Still touched him like he was someone worth touching.

And Tyler didn’t understand it. He didn’t think he deserved it.

But more than anything now, as the sobs quieted into something smaller and shakier, he was grateful. For the softness, the forgiveness, for Josh just being Josh... stubborn and steady and somehow always gentle, even when he had every right not to be.

And that was when something shifted.

Because it answered his question...

What was it that he was leaving behind?

It wasn’t Josh. That had been his first fear... the loss of proximity, of routine, of the way Josh had been a constant presence, woven into the air Tyler breathed every day for two months. But no, that wasn’t it. Because Josh wasn’t gone, he just wasn't here. There was a difference, and Tyler felt it now... not as a loss, but a thread, still tethered and real.

What he was leaving... was everything else.

The pain, the spirals, the hollow parts of himself that had come alive in all the wrong ways this summer. The bone-deep fear that he would ruin anything good that came too close. The instinct to pull away, to lash out, to shut down when things got too intimate or too safe.

That was what he could leave behind.

Because those weren’t real parts of him, they were just scars that kept scratching open, habits built out of fear and survival. And maybe, for the first time, he didn’t want to carry them anymore.

The wind shifted and Tyler took a deep breath, shaky but full. His chest still ached, and the tears kept sliding down his face, but something had opened inside him.

Because he realized that leaving the camp didn’t have to be a bad thing.

It had held some of the worst moments he could remember in years... anxiety that clung like sweat, self-loathing that festered in silence, the moment he watched Josh walk away from him without looking back. He could leave all of that behind.

And sure, this place had also held good. Beautiful, quiet, life-altering good. The first time he let someone in, the first time someone saw the whole mess of him... and didn’t run.

That was the part he was taking with him.

Josh’s hands in his hair, his voice saying “I’ve got you,” his stupid charming smirk, the way he always knew how to knock Tyler off balance in just the right way... all of it.

He believed in it now.

He believed that somewhere past those trees, beyond the curves in the road, there was a version of his life where Josh was still there, waiting, wanting him back. And Tyler wanted to be worthy of that.

He wanted to try.

To speak instead of shutting down, to be gentle instead of guarded, to reach out first, to stay when things got hard. He wanted to be someone who could love Josh in the open, without fear or shame.

Someone who could show up... not just for Josh, but for himself.

He reached down, brushing his fingers through the grass, his palm hovering flat above the stems like it might ground him one last time. Then he closed his eyes, he couldn’t see through the tears anyway.

And somehow, the sobs full of guilt and regret softened into something lighter. Something that made him feel like his whole body was floating, suspended in a space where maybe hope and forgiveness weren’t things he had to earn, but things he could finally offer himself.

The tears felt good.

Like standing barefoot in a warm summer rain after weeks of unbearable heat. Wet, uncomfortable, but relieving, welcomed, and healing. Like something soft was washing away the weight he didn’t need to carry anymore.

His shoulders dropped, his breath evened, and for the first time in a long time, Tyler let himself feel... okay.

...

It wasn’t long before a voice pulled him gently back to earth.

“Ty?” Jenna’s voice floated in from somewhere behind him. “You’ve been out here for almost an hour, is everything-”

She rounded the bend and stopped mid-step when her eyes landed on him. His face was a mess... puffy, tear-streaked, a little red around the eyes. New and old tears alike still clung to his lashes.

“Oh, Tyler...” she murmured, soft and full of sympathy.

Without waiting for an answer, she sat down beside him on the bench, her hand landing on his shoulder with that quiet steadiness only Jenna could manage. Tyler blinked a few times, trying to force the wetness from his eyes, but when that didn't help, he just wiped at his face with the hem of his shirt.

Jenna gave his arm a small squeeze. “Fuck, I didn’t think saying goodbye would hit you this hard… If I’d known, I wouldn’t have left you out here alone.”

Tyler shook his head quickly. “No, no... it’s-” His voice was hoarse, a little cracked from crying. “I needed to be alone, actually,” he let out a small breath and added, more softly, “It helped.”

Jenna looked at him, not quite convinced. Her eyes flicked over the tear tracks still drying on his cheeks. “Are you sure?” she asked, tentative. “You’ve been crying.”

She knew it was obvious, unnecessary to say out loud, but something about seeing him like this, slumped and silent for nearly an hour, claiming solitude had helped while still visibly unraveling... she just couldn’t keep the words from slipping out.

Tyler gave a shaky nod, swallowed around the lump still caught in his throat. “Yeah, no... these were-” He paused, then gestured vaguely toward his still wet lashes. “They were good tears, I promise.”

She tilted her head, still unsure. “Okay...?” Then, gentler, “Wanna talk about it?”

Tyler sniffed, dragging the hem of his shirt under his nose, it was already ruined anyway. And for a moment, he just sat there... quiet, lost in the swirl of everything he didn’t know how to say. There weren’t words big enough to explain what had just cracked open inside him, but something else rose to the surface instead.

He shook his head, more at himself than her, and let out a bitter laugh. “God, Jenna... I’ve been such an asshole.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness, but didn’t interrupt, she just waited.

Tyler stared down at his knees, voice low. “To Josh, to you. To... all of you. But mostly Josh.”

Jenna’s brow furrowed, her expression shifting into something tender, like she was trying to track the full weight of what he was carrying.

“I just-” He blew out a breath, eyes flicking to the sky like it might help him find the words. “Fuck... You’ve all been so good to me. And all I've been giving back was either avoidance, defensiveness, or every other self-destructive impulse I’ve got in my fucked-up head.”

He dragged a hand down his face, then added, quieter, “My brain’s been in survival mode all summer and I was too far in it to see that I wasn’t letting myself accept any of the kindness."

His voice cracked again. “I’m sorry.”

Jenna looked at him, lips pulling into a soft pout, her eyes glassy with the kind of quiet, aching affection only someone who truly rooted for you could carry. There was pride in her expression, gentle and steady, but also the unmistakable sting of sympathy.

Because on one hand, she was glad he’d gotten there on his own, that he’d finally let himself feel all of it. But on the other... it hurt to see how hard he was being on himself.

“Ty...” she said softly, her thumb brushing over his shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. I know- we know you didn’t do any of this on purpose.”

He shook his head again, a little sharper this time, not angry, just... desperate to make her understand. “No... Don’t- don’t try to soften it. I might have had a fucked up past, but it doesn't justify all the shitty things I did and said."

He paused, breath catching. "I could’ve- I should’ve handled things differently.”

His eyes finally flicked toward her, but not quite meeting hers. “I’m sorry, Jenna.”

And she saw it... the raw sincerity in his voice, the guilt that wasn’t performative or self-flagellating, but honest and real. He wasn’t spiraling, he wasn’t trying to tear himself down for pity or punishment, he was just... finally aware.

So she squeezed his shoulder gently, accepting the apology with a quiet nod. “Thank you,” she said.

Then, trying to keep it light, to stop the weight of the moment from swallowing him again, she added, “But still... no need to cry about it, yeah?”

Tyler let out a breath, half laugh, half sigh, and wiped under one eye with the heel of his hand.

“No, it’s not that. I wasn't crying just because I feel bad.” He paused, his voice searching for something deeper. “I just... I was kinda scared of how today would feel, when Josh left, when camp really ended. I thought if I let go of it too easily, it’d mean it didn’t matter.”

His hand moved back to the grass, brushing the blades with absent fingers.

“But now-” he said, voice steadier, eyes brighter with something new. “Now I realize I want to let it go. Not the people, not Josh, but all the shit that came with it. The fear, the self-doubt, the way I twisted everything in my head, I don’t wanna keep carrying it.”

He looked over at her, and his smile was small but real. “Let’s face it... this summer kinda sucked.”

Jenna laughed, a watery chuckle through her own growing tears, and shrugged, like she was saying, “Well... you’re not wrong.”

Tyler's smile widened a little. “I mean, yeah... there were beautiful moments, moments I’ll never forget, but I spent most of the time overthinking and spiraling, if not worse.”

A long silence settled between them. Comfortable, and heavy in all the right ways.

“I feel like...” he started slowly, “I feel like I can leave all that shit behind and actually... finally be a better person.”

Jenna blinked hard, pressing her lips together. “Ty... you already are a good person.” Her voice cracked a little. “You always have been. It was just buried under a lot of pain.”

Tyler’s chin trembled again, his breath catching in his throat as the tears welled up once more... this time not from guilt or regret, but something closer to release.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered. “And happy for you, and-” She didn’t finish, she just reached for him and pulled him into a tight hug.

He went easily, arms folding around her like they’d always fit there. And they sat like that, tucked into each other on a sun-warmed bench, breathing through it, no rush, no expectations.

Just the quiet understanding that something had changed.

Something had healed.

...

They sat in silence for a while longer.

Not an awkward one, not one that needed filling, just the kind of quiet that existed between people who understood each other on a deeper level.

Jenna had always had that gift of knowing when words would only get in the way., and Tyler... for once, didn’t feel the need to rush past it. He let himself exist in it, let it wrap around him like a warm blanket one last time.

Eventually, he drew in a breath, planted both feet back on the ground, and slapped his palms against his thighs with a soft, final sort of exhale.

“Okay,” he said. “I guess I should move on.”

Jenna gave a slow nod. “Okay.”

They stood together, slow and unhurried, like neither of them wanted to make it too final. Tyler glanced toward the house, then frowned slightly.

“Is Dave coming down?”

Jenna squinted in that direction. “Sure he is.” She raised her voice to a full shout. “Daaaaave?”

Tyler snorted as they both turned to the director’s house.

A second later, a window creaked open and Dave’s head poked out. “Yeah?”

“Ty’s leaving!” Jenna called.

Dave just raised a hand in a casual wave, then added, “Got all your trophies?”

Tyler huffed a laugh. “Oh yeah... the shelf’s not gonna fill itself.”

Dave chuckled. “Good, good... you can collect some more next summer. See ya, Tyler!”

“See ya,” Tyler called back with a small smile.

Dave gave one last wave and disappeared back into the house. Tyler turned to Jenna again, and she was already stepping into him. He barely registered the movement before her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders.

She held him like she meant it, like it wasn’t just a goodbye, but a thank you, a prayer, a wish for every good thing the world could offer. And Tyler felt it in his chest.

“Drive safe,” she said, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “Let me know when you get home. And if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

She hesitated, then added, “Or just call, really.”

Tyler smiled at her, eyes soft. “Jenna... thank you. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Then, with a lopsided grin, “Besides, you’ll be in the city all the time anyway. We both know you can’t go too long without hunting for new clothes.”

She snorted, nudged his arm playfully, and they hugged again, softer this time.

“Bye, Ty,” she murmured, voice thick. “I love you.”

“Bye, Jen. I love you too. And... thanks, y’know. For everything.”

She gave a tight nod, lips pressed into a soft pout, then stepped back and watched him get into the car.

The engine turned over with a low hum. Jenna lingered a moment longer before walking slowly back toward the house. And Tyler stayed there, his hands resting on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the gravel road ahead.

He sat like that for a beat, the silence folding in around him again, his heart was beating steady in his chest, but it felt different now. Not like it was trying to escape, but like it was ready.

He breathed in, deep and full.

Even though he felt better, he wasn’t magically healed. He didn’t know what the future held, he wasn’t sure how long the peace would last, or how many times his mind might try to pull him back into old patterns. He still carried scars, still had work to do, but for the first time in a long time, he let himself believe that it could be good.

That he could choose to make it good.

That maybe... just maybe, he didn’t have to live in survival mode anymore. That there was space for softness, for stillness...

...for love.

He shifted the car into gear and finally he pulled away, tires crunching against the gravel. He didn’t look back right away, not until he reached the curve just beyond the camp sign.

Then he glanced in the rearview mirror...

and watched as the place where everything had come undone and then started to rebuild, blurred, shrunk and slipped behind the trees.

He watched until the last glimpse of it disappeared from view.

And then he faced forward.

And drove into whatever came next.