Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tyler stumbles to his car, the world swaying slightly. It’s a beater car, some cheap piece of shit he got after he wrecked the last one. 

He fumbles with the keys for a bit, almost dropping them several times. He can hear his family yelling behind him, telling him they’ll call the cops if he dares to drive. 

He snorts. They never do, not the last time or the time before. And he was sober when he crashed; it's not like he’s really a danger. He’s barely even tipsy, as is. 

He unlocks the car and steps in. For a moment, he just sits, gripping the wheel. He stares out at the faintly beginning sunset. It's embarrassing how he’s already drinking while the sun’s still out. College forms bad habits, he supposes. He’s so tired. Of life, his family, the world. He just needs to get away for a bit. 

He hadn’t been trying to sober up, just be less drunk. He had been doing good; it had been a while since he got this bad. But that's out the window now, and his family is driving him but the walls about it. 

He grabs his phone. It takes a second for his eyes to focus on the bright screen.

Tyler: hey im kinda bored wanna go for a drive

Josh: r u hammered again

Tyler: no.

Tyler: If not thats chill js thought Id ask

Tyler rolls his eyes. Josh was a great friend, but he only ever pretended to care about Tyler's drinking. Tyler's grateful for it; he would have dropped him if he hadn’t. Sometimes Josh would join him on his drives, or other times he could convince Tyler to just hang out with him instead. 

They both politely ignored how Tyler asked Josh to hang out first, and more often than anyone else. They both ignored how clingy Josh got to Tyler, specifically when they went out or when he got high.

Josh: im coming with u dw. Ill be outside

Josh: u better be sober.

Tyler rolls his eyes. They both know he won’t be. But he still starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, ignoring his mother yelling at him from the door. 

The drive to Josh’s apartment is short. But it feels like forever with how hard he focuses on the road, making sure he stays in his lane, stops in the right places. He almost gives himself a headache. Maybe he’ll just hang out with Josh if he asks. 

He pulls into the parking lot. Glancing up, he knows exactly which window is Josh’s. He groans and rests his head on the steering wheel before texting Josh that he’s here. 

A few moments later, a loud rap sounds on the passenger window. Tyler startles, but it's just Josh grinning at him. 

“Fucking asshole…” he grumbles as he unlocks the door.

“Thank you,” he says, smoothly sliding into the passenger seat and buckling up. Tyler blinks. He forgot to put his seatbelt on. He lets out a dry laugh and buckles himself in. Then, the smell hits him.

“Aw, man. You’ve been smoking?” Tyler wrinkles his nose, rolling the windows down, ignoring how his stick is halfway.

Josh just shoots him a look. “And you’ve been drinking. Are you good to drive?”

“Well, I made it here, didn’t I? I've driven worse. And it's fine, we’ll just take back roads, unless you've changed your mind?”

“As long as we're back before dark, I don’t care.” 

Tyler nods and puts the car into reverse. Josh leans his seat back slightly and relaxes. They’ve both gotten used to Tyler's bad habit of driving a bit drunk. He’s never gotten pulled over or crashed, so they’ve decided it can't be too bad an idea. 

Before long, they’ve pulled onto a faster backroad. The one they always drive on. Wind races past the open windows, the only sound in the car as Tyler picks up speed, just bearly reaching the speed limit. Tyler rolls the windows back up, the wind much too chilly, even on his flushed face.

This is how it always is. Maybe they’ll crack a few jokes, but for the most part, they sit in silence. There's no music, the car came without a radio, and Tyler's too cheap to buy another. Josh likes to watch the exits, sometimes reading off their favorite ones. Tyler likes to pretend to be looking at the road and not josh. 

Like now, his eyes wander to Josh, whose head is half turned to face out the window. His side profile is… gorgeous. Hooked nose, piercings, soft lips, and curly hair died yellow. His friend is undeniably attractive, and sue a man for seeing it. Hell, for wanting it. He often stares, more than he should, but he can’t help it. Especially when alcohol is in the mix. 

Maybe his feelings towards his friend aren’t strictly plactonic. Admittedly, he’s wondered multiple times what it would be like to kiss him. But Josh is his friend, and that comes first. He wouldn't ruin that for something that could be bad for them, anyway. He’s too prideful to ever say something first, so it doesn’t even matter.

Josh shifts, and Tyler quickly snaps his attention back to the road, where he's strayed slightly into the middle, no longer fully in his lane. He carefully eases it back so as not to alert Josh. Josh, whose arm joins Tyler's on the middle console, forarms touching. Neither move, and Tyler's heart flutters. 

Sometimes, he lets his imagination get the better of him. He wonders if he’s doing it on purpose, if he’s actually looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly, Tyler regrets rolling the windows up. It feels too hot in here.

“Hah. Look- exit 43. Last time we came down here, that lady hit a deer, and that guy came out and was screaming hysterically about Jesus living in the deer, right?” 

Tyler snorts. “Holy shit, yeah. He was insane. Did you hear? Turns out he was high out of his mind. Apparently, he also pissed on a rando’s car once.”

“Really?”

Tyler smirks. “Oh- wait, no. That was just you.” 

Josh laughs, and the sound is musical. Warm. he knows if he were looking, Josh’s eyes would be crinkled and full of warmth, tongue caught between his teeth as he grinned. “Oh, shut up! That only happened once.”

Tyler indulges himself, turning to look at Josh. To his surprise, he’s already looking at him, and Tyler's heart skips a beat. Josh’s smile falters for a second, his gaze tracing over Tyler's face.

He wants so badly to know what he’s thinking. 

“We really need to stop doing this,” Josh murmurs, eyes still devouring his face. His smile drops completely, taking a more contemplative look.

Tyler's stomach sours. He turns back to the road. The sun is now setting in shades of tangerine and cherry. He’ll need to turn around soon to meet Josh’s self-imposed curfew. “Stop what?” 

Josh shifts in his peripheral, but says nothing. Tyler turns to ask again, but is met with Josh carefully leaning on the center console. Very close, in the small car. The words die on Tyler's tongue.

“All of it,” he says sofly, eyes landing on Tyler's mouth. Tyler can’t breathe. Is this happening? Josh’s gaze returns to his, his pupils blown from more than just weed. “Can I try something?”

Tyler nods, heart racing, vision blurring. Josh hums slightly and leans to close the gap between them. Tyler meets him halfway, their breaths mingle. He smells like weed and jasmine. When their lips finally touch, it's soft, questioning. Like testing the waters before jumping, and God, Tyler can’t wait to jump. 

Josh’s mouth is soft and warm. It's dizzying and everything Tyler expected and wanted. Neither moves to deepen it, scared of pushing too far, too fast. They just keep their lips locked softly. 

When Josh pulls back, they just stare at each other, breathing hard, faces flushed. Tyler is sure he’s redder than strawberries. Josh smiles first, and Tyler can’t help but return it. They stare at each other, gazes full of something like hope. Maybe they would find something new with this. He opens his mouth to say something, but Josh glances out of the windshield. His eyes widen.

“Tyler! The road-” Tyler turns as fast as he can without the world spinning too much. His vision focuses blearily on another car heading for them.

Mind fuzzy and slowed, he thinks that no one should be on this road. He tries to swerve, but he just can't react fast enough. He faintly sees the speedometer out the the corner of his eye. 73MPH.

Even as he brakes, he realizes it won't be enough. He can't even turn to look at Josh before the world slams to a halt in tons of steel and glass.

The airbags deploy, trying to save them. Their seatbelts lock, cracking ribs at the force they slam into them. But the car keeps crumpling. He hears the glass shatter, the metal scream, and crumple. He thinks he can hear Josh, maybe himself, but he doesn’t know. Then, nothing.

He never heard the 911 call. Never hears the ambulance sirens or and cries of the other car occupants. Never hears Josh’s voice or laugh again.