napalm skies.

[lcurents]

wolfie.

“ he is the devil’s hellcat, ” wolfie insists, choosing to look at apollo as he says it instead of tyson, too afraid to look him in the eye in case they’re both talking about two completely different things. his face will give it all away if there was any doubt he has talking about tyson, he never was great at disguising his emotions, most of all around the one person he’s never felt the need to disguise himself around. he’s got used to having his guard down in his presence, and it would be a difficult adjustment to start putting it back up again. “ that makes you the devil, by the way, ” he tacks on, the smile on his face exceptionally playful. he doesn’t want tonight to get heavy, like last time. he wants to keep it light so it doesn’t have to hurt so much to be around each other. it’s kind of an experiment, to see if they’ve got what it takes to be friends without the suffering. so far, things are looking promising for them. “ alright, alright, ” he agrees reluctantly, reaching behind his back to tempt apollo with his fingers by drumming them on the back of the couch as tyson speaks. every time tyson uses his full name it feels intimate, maybe because besides his parents nobody else ever really does. most of the time, it’s being used when somebody has something serious to say, or when he’s in trouble, but tyson uses it like a pet name. he likes the way he makes it sound, but he also likes the way tyson makes cuss words sound, so has less reflection on the word itself than it does on the speaker. “ no laughing, no slasher movies, no food on your fluffy blankets… god, you’re such a diva, ” he mutters, in his best imitation of a scummy tabloid writer. it’s so far from the truth that he almost breaks his first rule by laughing out loud, but he’s quickly silenced when tyson throws a blanket over him and curls up even closer than before. he can feel his body heat radiating through the many layers that are separating them and practically forgets all about the blanket until prompted. “ much better, yeah. thanks, ” he replies, running his hand over the soft material in appreciation whilst his mind wanders to how easily he could reach over and so the same to tyson, a thought which is much more appealing. tonight is a real practice of his ability to make rational decisions, and wolfie passes the test for the time being as he also turns his attention to the screen. an ominous tune is playing but it’s being drowned out by his own heartbeat and internal monologue. his voice of reason sounds a whole lot like darcy, which makes it much harder to ignore, especially when darcy is known to usually ( and by usually he means always ) be right. given, darcy also encouraged him to come over to ty’s tonight, so she evidently has more faith in him to not fuck up than he does in himself. 

tyson likes that he’s the devil in this scenario -- not because he’s got some goal to embody lucifer himself but rather, simply because the teasing is making him feel more comfortable. it’s familiar without getting too achingly nostalgic. it’s fun and almost possible not to think of it as flirting. almost. even as he shuffles around the room to grab things, he can’t help but steal glances at wolfie. his ex looks equal parts natural and unnatural curled up on his couch, playing with their cat much to apollo’s delight. the cat’s tail is twitching playfully but he looks one well placed scratch to the ears away from crawling into wolfie’s sushi bag as a ploy to get him to take him home. this apartment, half-barren and depersonalized, has never been home. not for apollo and certainly not for tyson either. “leak my diva antics to the media and it’ll be the last thing you ever do,” tyson threatens absently, now back in his seat and glaring fixedly at the television screen. he nearly had used wolfgang’s full name again but he was already feeling a bit fluttery at the familiar taste of it on his tongue that he knew saying it a second time would likely make him blush. they’re both kidding -- wolfie would never disclose tyson’s habits to a tabloid and tyson’s antics themselves hardly qualified as ‘diva’ but a bit of lighthearted play between them felt right. its immediately harder to pay attention to the movie when wolfie starts petting his hands over the fabric of the blanket they’re sharing, so close to accidentally brushing against tyson’s body. he’s distracted by long fingers and gentle touches, wishing, hoping, praying wolfie strays away from the absentminded stroking, if only for a second. every touch at the after party had felt like fire, igniting him from the inside out. tyson wants to burn now, and not just with the force of the flush upon his cheeks that he can feel rising to the surface. he does fairly well for the first few scenes of the movie, he reasons. he only flinches a few times and manages to focus on eating his sushi and taking sips of miso soup alongside the sparkling water wolfie had brought over (carrying two with one hand since the other had carried apollo, now that tyson remembers -- fuck, why couldn’t he stop thinking about wolfie’s hands?). he might even have considered the start of the movie a success up until that first jumpscare. it’s not even a creepy face or a spectre, just some spooky scenic work and yet tyson’s eyes are going wide and he’s immediately defaulting to pressing tightly against wolfie’s side. his face hides against wolfie’s forearm and his whole body curls in towards his ex boyfriend, seeking protection while his heart practically does damage hammering in his narrow ribcage. “merde,” he hisses under his breath, not daring to unfurl from wolfie’s formidable figure. “what happened to the warning!”

[lcurents]

wolfie.

“ well, we can’t all be the favorite parent, ” wolfie jests back, although it’s not exactly untrue. apollo and tyson have a special bond and he could realistically never compete, nor would he want to. apollo’s always been more tyson’s than he’s been wolf’s, hence why he went with him when it came time to divvy their possessions. but it still counts as a loss when wolfie imagined them watching apollo grow old together as they did the same. but it’s clear tyson takes good care of him and it’s only fair that he has someone, when wolf has darcy. although, he thinks it’s safe to say neither are a comparable bond to what they had with each other. his gaze moves up to sweep tyson’s face when he speaks again, watching him interact with the delighted cat, unsure which of the two is more of a sucker for attention. “ dunno, ” he admits. “ just kind of figured he’d have taken a liking to someone else. ” he’s not just talking about their cat any more, he realizes, turning his attention back to his food before his looking turns into outright staring. he busies himself with tearing open a packet of soy sauce and dribbling it over a row of california rolls, smiling at the suggestion that these get togethers will become a regular thing from here on out. “ define ‘make fun’, ” he requests, as if he’s ever truly made fun of tyson in his entire life. there’s not much to make fun of, in his humble and biased opinion. tyson’s pretty close to perfect, that is if perfection even exists. “ what are you thinking? zombies? ghosts? serial killers? ” he suggests, nudging tyson’s foot with his as he tries to get a reaction from him one way or another. “ probably nothing too gorey, while we’re eating. we can watch the woman in black, i’ve seen that. it’s pretty fucking chilling, but i won’t give too much away, ” he says. in all honesty, he saw the greater part of half of the film several years ago and he can’t recall it in detail, but he won’t tell tyson that, or he may not believe him to be a reliable warning of jump scares. “ i believe i was promised blankets? ” he adds, because he figures if he’s about to have the shit scared out of him he can at least do it from underneath the safety of a blanket. he’ll put a brave face on, because someone’s got to, but he’s always been more into the ryan gosling flicks. “ or was that just a clever ploy to get me inside ? ”

there’s something soft to the way wolfie is looking at him and it’s mirrored in the tone of his voice as he asks after apollo’s apparent ‘suitors’. tyson may be deliberately oblivious to a lot of things but he doesn’t miss the implication to wolfie’s words. so he answers in turn. “many may have tried to win over apollo’s heart,” he admits, watching the cat’s tail flick back and forth where he’s now taken his perch on the back of the couch, “but he’s remained resolute in his affections. they are reserved for one man and one man only.” tyson lets his words linger, feeling an ill timed flush creep up to his cheeks. “thats, um, me of course. i’m always going to be the only one who treats him right and who doesn’t accuse him of being the devil’s hellcat.” he shoots a pointed look over wolfie’s direction that hopefully isn’t marred by the tint to his complexion. apollo mews like he’s in agreement and it brings a smile to ty’s lips. “and what i mean is that you’re not going to laugh, snicker, giggle, or even point out when i’m visibly scared. it damages my fragile ego.” as a model, one would think tyson’s self esteem was unshakable. wolfie happened to be the only person alive who even knew otherwise. he set about sipping at his soup so as to avoid saying anything else terrible and intimate. he wriggles his toes where they’re now pressed against wolf’s, reasoning that physical communication was far easier than the verbal. it feels a little like footsie and a lot like flirting but he lies to himself and allows it to continue. friends could totally nudge up against one another and not have it send sparks flying throughout the room and warm sort of pleasure settling over his skin. his nose crinkles at every suggestion. “ghosts i could maybe handle but you show me any brain-eating body chopping horror movie, wolfgang, and i swear to god you’ll never be allowed to pick ever again!” at least they seem to be in agreement. tyson would very much like to keep his sushi down, thank you. blue eyes roll dramatically at wolfie’s teasing. he takes one more generous sip of his miso soup before setting it on the coffee table, unfurling to cross to the ottoman. “as if i would have to resort to downright lies to get you to come inside,” he scoffs, opening up the available storage and pulling out two of the softest, downiest blankets he owns. apollo’s ears even twitch in approval. “but if you dare drip even one drop of soy sauce onto these, you owe me new ones. they’re the best to cuddle up in.” he has to physically refrain himself from adding when i’m alone by biting down on his lip. as he crosses the room to return to the sofa, he dares to sit so that its his body and not his feet that are closer to wolfie. their shoulders are practically touching as he spreads one blanket and then the other over both their figures. “this alright?” he asks softly as he draws his bowl back into his lap, watching the opening credits play on the movie.

[lcurents]

wolfie.

wolf follows tyson inside, a light-hearted chuckle partnered with a roll of his eyes as apollo lounges out across his shoes, reclaiming them as his property. “ i’m allowed to insult your cat. i helped raise him, remember? ” he reminds him, as if they ever could forget it. wolf had a lot of trouble parting ways with the little animal despite the complaints he’d thrown his way over the months. it was just another thing they used to share that they no longer do. he wonders if tyson feels nostalgic when apollo brushes his ankles the way wolfie does every time he steps into his apartment and finds it half-vacated. he tails tyson to the kitchen, taking his invitation to open the fridge and grab a bottle of tonic water to wash down his food with, thinking better than to mix anything when he clearly can’t handle his alcohol, least of all around tyson. he grabs a second for tyson by habit and makes his way back over to him, only doubling back to collect the so-called traitor cat upon request, leaving him hanging from one arm with little complaint– this cat really has missed him. he chooses not to comment on tyson’s observation of the heart, relating to the cliche all too well in this moment. being in ty’s home under civil conditions is almost a miracle in itself, but after how long it’s been since they’ve been alone together it feels kind of like a dream. maybe kissing him is what they needed to break the ice after all. things aren’t awkward any more, but they are tense, or maybe that’s just him. maybe it’s due in part to how much he’s dying to make it not just a one time thing, and how little he trusts himself to spend an evening with ty and not do just that. he drops apollo into tyson’s open lap and hands him a fizzy water before settling into the spot beside him. “ don’t worry, i’m sure he’ll be back to favoring you before the night is up. he’s probably just forgotten who i am, but once he realizes he’ll be back to terrorizing me. isn’t that right, ‘pollo? ” he questions, nevertheless giving apollo a little scratch at the base of his tail before beginning to unload his sushi haul from the bags for easier access. he opens a few of the containers and grabs a plate, batting apollo away with his chopsticks as he leans in to curiously sniff at their meal. “ so, in the spirit of october, will we be watching something scary? or have you already got your heart set on something starring ryan gosling? ‘cause i could go either way. if you’re happy, i’m happy. miso soup? ” he offers, holding out a styrofoam cup of the warm broth to him.

“that’s not how parenting works,” tyson sighs in mock frustration. despite his teasing tone, there’s a little pang of something painful that wedges near his heart. raising apollo with wolfie from when they found him, shivering and cold, to where he was at the time they broke up had been a lot like how ty imagines raising a child to be. they had lovers quarrels over how spoilt he’d become or how he seemed to favor tyson over wolfie but he was theirs and tyson has no doubt that the kitten’s well-being flourished because of the loving home he’d been lucky enough to enter. he’s glad there had been an unspoken understanding that tyson would keep apollo. being without the furry companion would have made this whole breakup harder; he was already lonely enough. tyson curls up around apollo as the cat was deposited into his lap, touching their noses together and smiling when a furry cheek is brushed back and forth along the line of his chin. “how could he possibly forget you,” tyson starts automatically in a gentle voice, smoothing the tuft of fur on the top of apollo’s head before continuing the stroke down the sleek line of his back. never one to stay in place for too long, the cat starts leaning on tyson’s lap to better investigate the fishy smells coming from the sushi bag and ty rolls his eyes affectionately. where tyson thought it would get easier, it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to believe that this was his real life, that he was sat next to the man he loved eating takeaway and putting on a movie in the company of their cat. he has to remind himself not to kiss wolf quickly in gratitude for the offered cup. “yeah, that’s great, thanks.” he accepts the cup and swings his legs up in such a way that apollo has to jump up onto the back of the couch. it gets him somewhat out of the way of their feast but also puts tyson’s figure tucked up more closely to wolf. friends could touch, right? “we’re doing a scary movie. and you’re going to swear on my life that you won’t make fun of me when i flinch at the jumpscares. ryan gosling can be next month.” implying their treaty style friendship was going to last made tyson feel... good. he liked the idea of a future with wolfie, even if that future was limited to movie nights and almost touching. “can we... um, you can pick out something you’ve seen so that you can warn me when the scary parts are? unless you want to watch something new. i’m not picky. it’s fine.” not picky, sure, but he is embarrassed. wolfie knows ty doesn’t do well with scary movies but they watch them anyways -- usually for maximum cuddles. was tonight’s movie selection going to have been a mistake?

[lcurents]

wolfie.

it’s taken wolfie a little while to warm up to the idea of being tyson’s friend. he can’t help feeling that it comes hand in hand with accepting he’ll never be tyson’s boyfriend again, which is why he’s resisted it for so long. however, if their exchange at the after-party is anything to go by, they’ve still got something worth investigating further. and if it turns out that they are better off as friends, so be it, he’d rather have tyson in his life as a friend than not at all. it’s with that in mind ( and after a lengthy discussion with darcy ) that he finds himself at tyson’s place on a friday night. the details of their evening haven’t been ironed out yet but they’ve always been more spontaneous as a pair. wolfie scuffs the toe of his well-loved boot against the floor as he waits for tyson to answer the door, for a moment having the horrible thought of tyson not being home because he’s forgotten they had plans, or because he found something better to do. his qualms are laid to rest when the door swings open and he’s face to face with a very casually dressed, and some how still runway ready, tyson. he recognizes the sweater he’s wearing immediately from his own wardrobe and it comes as such a shock to him that he even owns the garment still, nevermind puts it on, that he forgets to speak for a moment or two. “ hi, love, ” he greets, managing at long last to find words. “ it’s nice to see you, ” he adds, leaning in to press a chaste peck to his cheek. he smells like familiar aftershave and expensive cologne and a handful of other things that make wolfie feel at home. he forces himself not to linger longer than necessary on it and slips into the open doorway with a paper take-out bag in hand. “ i hope you didn’t have anything else planned, i picked up sushi. i was hungry and thought you might be, too, ” he explains as he allows himself a quick peek around his direct surroundings. after all, he’s never seen where’s tyson has been living since he moved out and he’s curious as to where he spends his time or, more accurately, what he spends it on. he doesn’t know what he’s expecting to find, knowing full well ty is unlikely to have left some clothes from another lover thrown across his floor or photos of a beau displayed proudly across his mantle when he was kissing him just weeks prior. still, wolf is meant to be faithful as well and he isn’t exactly doing a good job of it. thankfully, his apartment is unsurprisingly standard. wolf holds out the food for ty to take so that he can pull off his jacket and shoes, although he’s distracted from his task when he crouches down to do so and is greeted by a chirruping cat making his way towards him. “ hey, there, ” he exclaims with a hint of surprise to his tone. it’s not that he’s forgotten apollo but, for some reason, part of him had ridiculously expected tyson to have tossed him out along with everything else that reminds him of wolf. maybe it was easier to accept that tyson hated him and there was no point in reaching out, rather than that they were both still aching for one another and kept apart by their own free will. he’s clearly wrong, proven both by the living breathing tribute to their first kiss roaming his apartment and that tyson himself is wearing a sweater that once used to be his. he can’t keep the grin off his face, giving apollo a scratch behind the ears as he rubs up against wolf’s leg. “ someone’s happy to see me. you’re never happy to see me, what’s up? ” he questions the feline, before finishing the task he’d bent down to do in the first place and standing back up again. “ something’s seriously wrong with your cat, mate. he’s being nice, ” he teases.

having wolfie in his apartment feels a lot more intimate than tyson was expecting, or maybe that’s just the residual burn of his cheek where wolf’s scorched it with a kiss. still, the scrutiny of his ex’s gaze making ty’s meager attempts at decorating feel very subpar. it was nothing like the luxury of their apartment; in fact, it still felt half lived in. he isn’t used to the concept of living on his own yet. there are touches of ty all around but only someone who knew him as well as wolf did would even be able to spot them in the otherwise stock standard design of his new abode. instead of picking apart his ex lover’s every microexpression to try and decipher his thoughts, tyson distracts himself with the bag of food being offered to him, rolling up his too-long sleeves so he can accept the gift of sushi. “mate, i invited you over around dinner time -- what else could i possibly have planned besides food? probably would’ve just ordered in postmates and called it a day.” truthfully, ty’s a little touched. he knows it probably wasn’t a conscious decision but sushi is ranked very highly on tyson’s favorite takeaway foods, especially considering it’s fairly good for his model’s physique. as he busies himself rifling through the contents of the bag to see if wolfie’s remembered his order, he feels the absent flick of apollo’s tail as he goes stalking past his ankles in order to greet wolf. though he was never a direct witness of apollo’s supposed antics (he’s an angel, ty swears), he does know enough that he, too, recognizes that the greet is curious. not like tyson’s going to agree to his baby being broken though! “excuse you,” tyson sniffs with an indignant look, head shaking definitively, “you come into a man’s home and the first thing you do is insult his cat? whoever taught you manners has some serious answering to do for that one, beck.” for his part, apollo doesn’t seem to mind being called out on his affection. he’s rubbing his head into wolfie’s hand like his very life depended on it. so much so that tyson may even start feeling prickles of jealousy at how much attention he, himself, is currently not getting. “you know what they say,” tyson’s voice is a touch softer as he steps into the kitchen of the mostly open floor plan apartment to grab them both plates, “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” he had been about to tack on that he’d missed wolfie too but that sounded an awful lot like an invitation to talk about the kiss and, really, tyson was alright not unpacking that one tonight. “can i get you anything to drink? we have all the usual supsects -- alcoholic and otherwise. you can even mix something if you’re feeling ambitious.” tyson tries to keep his shrug nonchalant but by this time he’s padded back into the entry and even just the sight of wolfgang beck living and breathing in his apartment is enough to get his movements to stutter. “come on over to the sofa when you’ve made your selection. i’ve got blankets and movies and the best company a rock star could ever want, namely, myself.” it feels both easy and incredibly hard to banter with wolf. maybe because it feels like flirting. “oh, and bring the traitor cat.”

[lcurents]

he slides a third top on over his already mussed hair -- which he’d tried to do something with, he swears!! -- and shuffles over to the mirror. there were times when his oversized model’s wardrobe was a blessing but when he was figuring out what to wear for when his lover-turned-ex-turned-sorta-friend was coming over for a not-date, it was nothing but a curse. he hasn’t even started to think about what to wear on the bottom! “fuck,” he curses as the low boat neck top dipped below his collarbones and showed way too much of his chest. “why not just wear a sign saying asking for it?” tyson’s being way too self critical -- a bad habit of his that only wolfie had been able to quiet. shrugging off the reject, it was discarded into the ‘no’ pile alongside a brightly colored button up and a tee of wolfie’s merch. it shouldn’t be this difficult -- they weren’t an item so what did it matter what tyson wore for a casual hangout? he knows the answer to his own rhetorical instantly. it matters because he loves wolfie. he was tragic, truly. it takes him another half an hour to settle on a too-long jumper that might be one of those he stole from wolfie after the breakup along with jeans that are tight enough to show off his curves but not sinfully tight so that he can’t curl up on the couch in them. he slides on shoes, stuffs his hair into a maroon colored beanie (because honestly fuck his hair right now) and has just enough time to decide he hates everything about the ending ‘look’ before the buzzer to his apartment is ringing. “gonna have to be good enough,” he sighs dramatically. apollo gives a sympathetic mew which tyson takes as approval. at least someone likes his definitely-not-a-date outfit. // @vvolfies

[louisgalaxy]

[lcurents]

wolfies.

it feels good, in a way, to say what he should have said months ago. it hurts to stand here with him, on the verge of tears, with the inability to take back things he’s said and not meant or done without thinking. but it feels good to tell the truth, to voice the thoughts he’s been too afraid to say, in case they were not well received. this feels like the best possible outcome, despite only scratching the surface of his feelings for tyson. he’s got much more bottled up and packed away, he’s only ankle-deep in an ocean that stretches far enough over his head to drown him if he were to dive in tonight. it still feels significant when compared to where they were. in fact, it feels almost like progress if he were to allow himself to be optimistic. “ of course. wouldn’t you? ” he asks, fingers metaphorically crossed that ty’s answer mirrors his own. his heart is on the line, after all, or what’s left of it anyways. the kiss is enough to take his night from forgettable to memorable, mediocre to milestone. ty has always been able to do that, so it’s not as if he’s surprised, but it has been a long time since he’s felt so uplifted without the help of multiple substances. he can feel the dew on tyson’s cheeks transferring to his own and his thumbs brush away some of the moisture as he cups his face in his hands with all of the tenderness of handling something breakable. he’s broken tyson once, so he’s certain that with the cracks he left it would only be easier to do it a second time. it’s something he never wants to go through again, and he thinks it’s something they can agree on, so it’s best if they just avoid each other altogether. that’s what he’s been telling himself, when this is all he’s wanted to do the entire time they’ve been apart. his lips are what he’s been craving, his touch a luxury he’s slowly come to accept he is not worthy of. he slips one hand into the back of his hair, the kiss growing more passionate with every passing second until tyson is the very air in his lungs, he is all that he tastes and wolfie wants more, more, more. it’s when fireworks start exploding behind his eyelids that the lights come on over him, and for a split second he isn’t sure if it’s reality or illusion. his body is a step behind his brain, which is screaming at him to stop, which he begrudgingly does as the room breaks into a second wave of commotion around them. he puts a safe distance of space between them as he stumbles backwards, blinded by the sudden change, eyes squinted as they adjust to the lighting. it’s a bit of like falling from a high place, having to let go of what he once had, once took for granted, and feeling the fireworks simmer out within him as it all comes to an end. “ i’m sorry, ” he says breathlessly, wiping at his face with his sleeve to get rid of what he assumes are tyson’s tears but could very well be his own as well. “ i didn’t mean to make you cry. i just… wanted you so badly. ” he wants him still, in so many more ways than a hurried stolen kiss under the cloak of momentary darkness. but he won’t push his luck, he knows this isn’t the time nor place to do so. “ i should really go. promise me you’ll let me know that you get home safe. i worry about you, tyson, ” he tacks on for good measure, not to guilt him, but to inform him that he’s cared for. he doesn’t know whether or not he’ll ever have another opportunity to do so.

they are words he’s been craving to hear for months -- not only i’m sorry but i want you, i want you, iwantyou. his heart practically beats to the sound and he knows in that instant exactly what his dreams will entail. how could he not dream of the low timbre of wolfie’s voice, the soft longing in misty green eyes, and the incredible and familiar taste of his lips?  that is, assuming he’s able to sleep at all. with the way his night’s gone, tyson worries that he may not want to close his eyes so he can keep this whole dreamy reality from fading away into the darkness. there’s a question hanging in the air still, one that wolfie had voiced before the kiss. would he go back and do it all over again? the good times along with the bad? the heartache? the pain? he’s making an embarrassing sniffling sound and he raises his palm to rub away the rest of the tears that wolfie hadn’t managed to brush away with his tender touches. it may be too late to respond now. the lights are on now and there’s the pressing topic of their kiss to address. however, the reply bubbles to tyson’s lips nonetheless, even though it doesn’t directly answer to any of wolfie’s statements post-liplock. “i’d do it all again. i would.” tyson’s voice sounds even fainter than a whisper and he sags against the wall where he’s propped himself up. watch wolfie move away hurts more than he hopes his expression lets on but he also knows their time together has come to an end. all good things do. he nods once and then shakes his head, catching up to the present with a doe eyed blink of his watery blues. adjusting his vision to the sudden brightness was hard enough but coupled with the sight of his ex boyfriend in all his glory, no shadowy club lights to obscure his beauty, it was damn near torture. “it’s okay. i... understand; it’s okay.” tyson doesn’t want wolfie to hurt over what they’ve done; he doesn’t want wolfie to think that ty is hurting. while something in his chest aches, yes, it’s not because of the kiss. rather, it’s the fact that it had to end that’s causing his own pain and that is something neither of them could have helped. in fact, if he had to admit to it, tyson might even say this is the best he’s felt in months, even as he feels the metaphorical clock counting down their time together. “you should go,” ty confirms, finding the strength returning to his voice. he isn’t sure why wolfie’s being so candid with him, telling him these things that he really shouldn’t be, not while he has a girlfriend, anyways. tyson also isn’t sure why he’s nodding his agreement to text him when he gets home. it’s none of wolfie’s business. he shouldn’t even have wolfie’s number still. it shouldn’t be saved under ‘home’. he watches wolfie walk away with an ache in his chest but a flicker of hope in his heart.

[thelovejournals]

I felt his arms go around me, holding me tight. I was safe. I was warm. I was home.

Ally Carter, United We Spy (via thelovejournals) @thedrunkhermit (via forestwildflower)

[lcurents]

wolfie.

wolfie tastes tyson’s words in his mouth as if he’d spoken them himself. for months and months he hasn’t felt anywhere close to ready, and he’s been appreciative of darcy for giving him an excuse not to be. to the world he’s already moved on, but within him a heart still beats for tyson laurent. it should bring him comfort to know that he’s not the only one having trouble moving on, but it in fact does the opposite. he feels sad knowing that he’s responsible for breaking his heart to such a catastrophic degree. he’s devastated that they don’t know how to be apart any better than they know how to be together. he’s wrecked because they couldn’t make this work, even loving ty as much as he still does. if they’re still so intertwined, despite their lack of interaction, he can only imagine the repercussions tonight will bring upon them. he keeps trying to convince himself that, for this reason, this is all a bad idea, but when he’s got tyson looking at him like he balances the world in his palms it’s hard not to believe it’s a very good idea. it feels good to be around him, his heart thumping and light-headed in a way that he hasn’t felt in a long time and which has nothing to do with how the room was spinning before. his body moves of it’s own accord, following the blush blossoming down his neck with a soft, wandering touch using the back of his fingers. although it’s far from a happy moment, and even as it pains him to see tyson at a loss for words when he usually has something on the tip of his tongue to shoot back at any given moment, a tiny smile curves his lips. “ i want you to be okay, too, ” he says. what he would give for tyson to be unaffected by it all. how he wishes he could make things better for him tonight instead of worse. he swallows as his gaze lingers for several extended seconds on his lips, as if visibly trying to reason with what’s left of his rationality. “ that’s what got us into this mess in the first place, isn’t it? ” he pipes up, a hint of bitter humor laced into his tone. it’s not meant to be harsh or accusatory, and he doesn’t regret their kiss– even if the following weeks didn’t play out in a way he’d ever have wanted. he wants ty to know that. “ i’d do it all again. every single part of it, ” he tells him importantly, his eyes making their way back to tyson’s, a hand moving to grasp his face and, in a sudden, dangerous decision, bringing it closer to his so that their lips can finally meet. he’s unearthed everything they worked so hard to bury in a split second’s reaction, but wolfie’s needed it for so long and now that it’s in front of him he can’t bring himself to turn tyson away. for the amount of time he’s been waiting, his kiss is surprisingly soft, afraid of being too ardent and ruining the fragile moment they’ve shared in the most unexpected of places.

tyson must have said or done something right in all his timid ramblings because the downward curve of wolfie’s unhappiness eases away and is even replaced by a smile. it’s small and nowhere near as radiant as tyson’s seen it, dimples pocking perfect cheeks, but it has its own warmth nonetheless. for tyson, it feels like he’s been frozen for months and is finally getting a taste of the sun’s rays for how he’s craved just the sight of it. he sort of hates that he doesn’t have to say that he’s not okay -- wolfie knows he’s not okay. it’s fairly obvious and that’s what he hates. even now, even apart, they both want what’s best for each other, always. his breathing is jolted and uneven as wolfie makes his declaration. it turns something inside of tyson’s head, rights some wrong that had been firmly set in place. “you’d really go through all of it... again?” tyson had been so convinced that he’d led to some of the darkest times of wolfie’s life, enough bad to outweigh the good. he wants to react, if not verbally than at least physically, but he hasn’t the chance. suddenly, wolfie’s mouth is covering his own in a searing forbidden kiss that sends licks of fire from where their lips touch all the way down to his toes and back up again with lightning speed. it’s a kiss that makes him feel alive and though he’ll regret the sound later, a whimper slips from his own lips and into wolfie’s. he knows as surely as wolfie must know that this kiss can’t last long which is why he’s surprised to find wolfie holding back, keeping it gentle and soft and oh-so-sweet when every part of tyson just wants to put his everything into it until he breaks. however, if wolfie is going to show his vulnerability first and foremost, tyson isn’t going to let his own desperation overwhelm what could be their last kiss (though, truthfully, he hopes it wouldn't be; tyson doesn’t like to think in definitives). instead, the brushing of their lips remains painfully gentle, a tenderness they felt for one another -- and potentially still feel -- blooming in between them once more. as his eyes flutter shut to relish in this moment, tyson, embarrassingly, feels tears streak down his cheeks, wetting his lashes were they fall onto his cheekbones. he can’t help it, he reasons. it’s been an emotional rollercoaster of a night and now he’s getting to kiss his ex boyfriend who he’s practically just admitted to pathetically still loving, no matter how many hookups he tries to execute. even with this one kiss, tyson can see why that is. no one else could ever make him feel this way. no one else’s soul vibrated at the same frequency as his own quite like wolfie’s. he can’t bring himself to pull away from the kiss -- not to take the breath he’s starting to need, not to wipe at his eyes or dry off his tear stained cheeks. nothing is worth ending this, he figures, and instead he goes onto half tiptoes to shamelessly deepen the kiss.

[lcurents]

wolfie.

wolfie nods, coming to terms with his statement. he’s comfortedby the familiarity in the way his ex-boyfriend touches him, but his heart isplummeting into the depths of his stomach upon the realization that he is nolonger a part of his world. at least, not a significant one. there was a timewhen he considered himself to be the focal point of it, but he’s long sincefaded into the background. he’s demanded that tyson pay him attention tonight,maybe even unintentionally taken advantage of his vulnerability to do so, butthat can’t last. he knows tonight doesn’t change anything, it doesn’t erasetheir complicated past. in order to let tyson have the world, he needs to remove himself completely. “ i know, ” he admits sadly. it’s not because oflack of knowledge of it’s importance that he’s still clinging to the shreds of what they used tobe. he just doesn’t know how to let go, and seeing ty makes it all that muchharder, especially when he’s with someone else. wolfie’s instincts tell him todefend what’s his, because in his heart tyson’s always been his, and apparentlyhis mind still hasn’t got the memo. “ no, but he could have been, ” hereasons, fingers curling in the front of his shirt and gripping tightly, like ty is the only thing tethering him to consciousness, and he sort of is. it’s not to say that he wouldn’t be here were he not so drunk, it’s just that the drinks have made him less concerned about the consequences. usually, it’s easier to talk himself out of situations like these, because he knows how it will only make the process of them going their separate ways afterwards that much more painful. presently, he’s just craving the illusion of being loved, and doesn’t care what it costs him. he just needs to feel something. “ so could the next guy. and i don’t know how to be okay with it when it happens. i’m barely okay as it is. ” he needs to shut up, but his lips won’t stop moving. maybe they will, he thinks, if he busies them elsewhere. if he puts his lips on tyson’s, he won’t have such an urge to babble. he’s already so close, but it doesn’t feel that way. it feels like he couldn’t be further from where he wants to be, where he wishes they still were. “ tell me not to kiss you, ” he pleads, his voice but a whisper. it’s not necessary to be any louder when he can already feel his breath on his skin, his hair tickling wolf’s brow. ty looks about as on the verge of tears as wolfie feels, and he’s prepared to stand by and wipe them if need be. “ tell me it’s a stupid idea. ” 

tyson’s gone a bit soft ‘round his edges and very quiet. he doesn’t like the mournful twinge to wolfie’s voice, the downward turn of his lips. with their faces are still so very close, it’s easy to see the signs of sadness on his ex lover’s features and he’s intimately familiar with what wolf looks like when he’s overthinking. tyson’s almost afraid to ask what it is that’s caught up his ex’s thoughts, knowing that whatever it is would be just as painful to hear aloud as it appears to be for wolfie to keep inside. “no,” ty urges, letting wolfie’s hand clutch at his loose shirt without any resistance. “he couldn’t be.” the shorter of the two sags in exhaustion, fear and whatever feeling this is draining his energy reserves quickly. “you really don’t understand, wolfie.” his voice shakes as though strained with the effort of making wolf understand. the tip of their noses touch, tyson’s a little colder than wolfie’s, as always was the case. (he used to use it as a weapon when it was especially icy, brushing it across warm patches of bare, beautiful skin until wolfie squirmed in protest.) “i mean, yeah, some guy could come along who’s my total prince charming. and maybe he’ll sweep me off my feet like you say i deserve. but it’s not going to be this guy,” he jabs a finger absently in the crowd’s direction, “and it’s not going to be the next guy either. not yet. i’m not... i’m not ready yet.” his eyelashes flutter as he forces his eyes to open, forcing himself to continue his close reading of wolfie’s expression. maybe, something there will answer the plethora of questions he has about this very moment, about why it’s being allowed to happen. “i’m not over you yet, wolfie. he’s not going to be my world because the position is taken.” tyson feels ridiculous the moment he says it out loud and his already flushed skin creeps color down his neck. wolfie’s barely okay. ty doesn’t like that thought. his ex has a new girl, a picture perfect relationship and a thriving career. he should be more than okay. this was tyson’s fault. his breathing quivers horribly as he exhales a weak sigh against wolf’s lips. “you don’t have to be okay,” he offers slowly, not looking at wolfie once more, “but i want you to be. it... we...” wolf’s demand hangs in the air, sufficiently stopping tyson’s train of thought, and possibly his heart. “it would... it would be a very stupid idea,” he fucking whimpers. trusting blues lock back on familiar greens; he never could look away for long. he should say no; doing what wolfie asked of him had always been something tyson secretly enjoyed. he should do that now and tell him not to make things worse for the both of them. things were already so bad. “kiss me?" tears that he's been holding down finally spring up to his eyes but still, he waits.

[lcurents]

wolfie.

the tension between them is almost unbearable, and although they should have much bigger worries than those which concern each other wolfie can’t bring himself to care about anything else. his eyes are locked on tyson’s, head bobbing in agreement to the words he’s repeating, but neither seem keen on taking action to reflect them. he’d be happy to stay pressed up against him all night, but he knows one of them will have to make the first move to break their position eventually. it’s too good to be true, too much of a contrast to the past months spent in pursuit of how tyson used to make him feel and being disappointed by experiences that pale in comparison. he can’t help thinking that now he’s already had the best of the best, he’ll never be satisfied by anything less than. it’s not the ideal position to be in, feeling as though the best times of your life have already come and gone. he’s being melodramatic probably, but when your heart is hurting like his it’s hard to see reason. tyson’s questions put him on the spot and he averts his gaze in shame, knowing what he says to be fair. he doesn’t want tyson to be miserable like him. he doesn’t want him to mope around and mourn the loss of true love gone to waste, but he finds the alternative slips his mind when he’s blinded by jealousy. he’s got most everything he ever wanted his entire life, so it’s a feat for him to accept that the one thing he wants most is the one thing he can’t have. “ you deserve the fucking world, ” wolfie confirms passionately, letting his fingers slide into the gaps between tysons. it’s all so effortless, and it always has been. its always been more difficult for him to stop himself from touching him or saying certain things or looking at him in such a way. you’d think with what went down, he’d be more cautious than ever, but absence has made him braver it would seem, or maybe it’s just the liquid confidence coursing through his veins. either way, his skin feels a little bit thicker with the criticism he’s has to endure. “ it’s not the same, ” he admits, with a small shake of his head. “ i’ve never touched any one how i’ve touched you. ” he’s bluffed his way through most of his adult life, but he’s never felt the need to hide anything from ty, and this case is no exception. it’s never been as intimate or as meaningful as this is right now, fingers skimming over the skin of the man he once loved. still loves. may always love. the plead in tyson’s voice plunges him into sadness, his despair contagious, and wolf longs to make it better. ‘you have me’, he wants to scream, but actions speak louder than words, and lately he hasn’t been very good at showing it. he finds himself getting even closer, nose brushing against his before coming to the realization that he needs to stop before he fucks things up for him and darcy both. “ you can have anyone you want. nobody would be stupid enough to say no, ” he predicts, voice quivering slightly. maybe he’s not as courageous as he thought, because their proximity frightens him more than he’d care to admit. it reminds him of something he once had and of how he was unable to keep it alive then, doubtful that he’d be any more capable of doing so now. 

tyson wonders if he just stops responding, maybe they could stay caught up in this breath of a moment where nothing else in the world even matters. they both seem to understand that they should be anywhere but here, pressed up against one another, and ty’s afraid that if he says too much, everything will shatter. they’ll be back to bitter exes who barely so much as look at each other let alone talk. even if this conversation isn’t the healthy discussion that they need, even if it’s fueled by alcohol, jealousy, and fear, at least they’re together. they’re talking and it’s something. tyson refuses to believe it isn’t something. he wonders, too, if wolfie will recall any of this in the morning. how much would it hurt to learn that he’d only made these kinds of confessions because he was drunk? tyson tries to stop wondering, then. wolfie’s holding his hand and it should be awkward for the placement of their hands and the general size difference and yet... it’s perfect. it’s always been perfect. soulmates, tyson thinks with a sad inward smile. “then you need to let me have the world, wolfgang,” he utters on a breathy exhale, giving his ex’s hand a squeeze to assure him he wasn’t letting go. his thumb started pressing little circles into wolfie’s skin, filling in the silence with more small, needy touches. the curse leaving his ex lover’s lips meant more than it might seem on the surface. “he wasn’t the world though.” it feels necessary to clarify. the most his dancing friend would ever have been was a one night stand. he can’t even see it going beyond that, sad as it may seem to have deduced that from a few swivels of their hips and tasteless whispered comments. tyson draws their joined hands up to his chin, pressing wolfie’s knuckles softly to his skin. he closes his eyes against the momentary sting of wolf’s words. he knows they’re not meant to be daggers but even the thought of wolfie touching others is enough to wound. hearing him suggest as much out loud makes the shorter male visible shudder but there’s a flicker of pride there too. he doesn’t want it to be replaceable. god only knows tyson hasn’t been able to find the same thing in any of the beds he’s visited himself. ty knows wolfie well enough to hear that he’s not lying either; he’s not just saying this to make tyson feel better. wolfie hasn’t touched anyone like he used to touch ty, end of. and tyson, selfishly, hopes it always stays that way. he keeps soft blues closed, brushing the back of wolfie’s hand along the underside of his chin, just for another point of contact. he’s very close to crying, he notes as wolfie’s voice shakes. he’s scared to open his eyes. their noses are touching and tyson returns to wondering -- wondering if wolf is going to kiss him, if he wants ty to intiate, if this is a good idea. ty’s breathing is just as wavering as wolfie’s voice as he nuzzles his nose against wolf’s shamelessly, like a needy kitten seeking to be pet. he presses closer, close, half on tip toe as a sigh that could be the start of a sob slips its way past his lips. “no,” he corrects wolfie gently, never breaking the contact but not closing the distance either. “i can’t have anyone i want.” the hand not intertwined with wolfie’s moves to the back of his neck, mostly for support. “because i don’t want just anyone.” he doesn’t think he has to say what they’re both thinking. to say it would make it real.

[lcurents]

wolfie.

your girl. it takes wolfie a few moments for the words to sink in before he’s cursing under his breath. “ fuck, darcy, ” he says, realizing with a rush of guilt that she hasn’t crossed his mind in his haste to find tyson. after how tightly she stuck to his side all night, he was so quick to abandon her. he’s an asshole, and he’ll make it up to her later. she’s okay, though– at least he knows that much. he hopes she won’t come looking for him in turn, but she’s not as intoxicated as he is and she’s not blinded by love. he’s still not convinced that the rest of the room won’t come caving on them too, at any moment, so he’d rather she stay put. “ i should find her, ” he agrees, but he makes no move to do so. there’s an ominous creak, like the lights that still remain rooted are threatening to throw themselves down upon them, and wolfie backs tyson up impossibly closer to the wall, crowding him with his body. “ and you should go, ” he adds, despite being the one thing that is currently preventing him from doing so. wolfie’s not planning on leaving until tyson does, but he’s finding it harder to let him go now that he’s remembered how he feels, the petite fingers running over his skin bringing him back to a time when he was happier. he wants to live there and to this day he still second guesses this decision to leave, wondering if he gave up his chance at his life being really, truly complete. ever since, he’s felt like half of something, and he doesn’t think that’s how people are supposed to feel. “ he doesn’t deserve you, ” he blurts, even though he knows nothing about the guy, certainly not enough to make such a bold judgement on his character. yet, he stands by it, knowing how out of everyone’s league tyson is. “ he doesn’t deserve to touch you like that, ” he tacks on, that jealous rasp to his voice becoming clearer. he’s fucking embarrassing himself, he can be sure of that much, but in the moment the words are just coming out before he can think as to whether or not he should say them. “ how i used to touch you. i still wanna touch you like that. pathetic, isn’t it? ” he remarks mournfully, hand fitting all too perfectly over top of tyson’s where it’s settled on wolfie’s neck, completely covering it with his own long fingers. he looks something akin to hypnotized as the thumb of his other hand just barely ghosts over his bottom lip, trying to recall what it was like to kiss him, when he was lucky enough to be allowed to.

under ordinary circumstances, tyson may have pulled a wry joke -- tyson would rather wolfie not fuck darcy, thanks -- but these circumstances are anything but ordinary. tyson can barely breathe for how close wolfie is standing, for how easy it would be to tilt his head upwards in the wordless permission for a kiss he knew his ex would read clear as a bell. the timing isn’t right, though, no matter how intimately they are intertwining with one another, no matter how much he wants the touch of wolfie’s lips. “you should find her,” he agrees in a voice that’s more of a wisp than anything else; if wolfie’s still his wolfie, he’ll hear it even over the chaos of the room. wolf’s stepping closer, so much closer, and tyson’s heart all but stops. he leans against the wall entirely, allowing his personal space to be crowded oh so willingly. everything he can see, touch, smell and feel is all wolfie and all painfully familiar. he almost forgets he’s supposed to be scared with how fixated he’s become, particularly on the one sensation he’s lacking -- taste. “i should go,” he wavers, again repeating wolfie’s words in a voice that’s barely there. his eyes drift down to wolf’s lips almost by accident. they were a victim of bad timing, the two of them -- tyson knows that. they would have lasted forever if it weren’t for outside pressures; maybe they’d even be engaged by now, preparing to spend their lives together. wolfie seems like the type to marry young. tyson would’ve said yes. then his ex is talking about what ty deserves and a sour taste settles in the model’s mouth. his gaze shoots upwards, meeting wolfie’s with sadness pooling in crystal clear blues. “don’t i deserve him? don’t i deserve to be touched? it isn’t about him, wolfie. it’s about me and what i deserve so don’t you dare try to deny me that.” although he’s clearly getting upset, his voice is kept at a soft hiss, not wanting to risk anyone overhearing them, even in their intimate bubble. i still wanna touch you like that. the statement puts a halt in tyson’s protests and he feels warm all over, face flushing. it doesn’t help that wolfie is touching him, though in a different way than his dance partner had been. a large hand easily engulfs his own. wolfie’s thumb coaxes tyson’s lips to part. he’s aching all over with want, with heartbreak, with desire and yet he also feels completely whole. “you have someone to touch,” ty whispers, only moving his mouth in the slightest so that wolfie wouldn’t stop touching, touching, touching him. “i have no one. please wolfie.” he isn’t sure for what he’s pleading but maybe his lover will interpret it correctly. tyson half wants to cry but knows he’d never forgive himself for a breakdown. his free hand clutches the collar of wolf’s shirt, holding him there. he can’t leave. not now. not again.  maybe when the lights come on but they have this, for now.

[lcurents]

theo.

“i’m not above extra cash. anyway, my point still stands.” theo made a dramatic, derpy face that expressed the emotion of 1000% done. it wasn’t an exact emotion but it was what he was going for. either tyson hadn’t a funny bone in his body or theo really needs to work on his sarcasm– it was most probably the latter. “i was being facetious,” he drawled out into something that sounded like a whine, and because he was an annoying little shit, he couldn’t help but smirk as he countered. “yeah and you still smashed, so what does that say about you? bollocks.”

“cash, sure but spare change, man? a little sad.” he shrugs off the strange face theo pulls, letting out a withering sigh that he’s certain portrays the effect the other was attempting. his expression remains neutral as theo tries to pass it off as sarcasm. is tyson buying it? probably not, but he’ll humor him, nonetheless. “all it says about me is that i’m sexually active and charitable enough to ignore your whole ---” he makes a gesture to all of theo, “---thing going on here to keep you from an intimate engagement with your hand for the night.”

[lcurents]

wolfie.

wolfie believes tyson when he says he’s fine. physically, he does appear to be okay. however, he doesn’t need to hear tyson admit it to know that he’s scared. the way he’s withdrawn into the dark corner of the room tells him everything he needs to know. how he’d love to assure him he’s got no reason to be, to promise him he’ll always be there, to hold him until he stops shaking. back in the day, he would. now, it’s not feasible. it would be an empty promise coming from lips that haven’t touched his in close to a year and they haven’t got a home to keep them safe any more. so this is the closest he can get, wolf drinking in the warmth he’s absorbing from sun-kissed skin and praying the lights stay out for a little bit longer so he can continue to do so. the attention isn’t on them, it’s on the source of the cry and he takes full advantage of that, leaning his forehead against ty’s and closing his eyes, willing the room to stop spinning around him. he’s dizzy, but tyson keeps him centered. “ why not? ” he questions, despite knowing fully well the answer to his own query. at any moment someone could flick a switch that illuminates everything, not to mention he’s supposed to be in a relationship and tyson’s supposed to be getting laid right now, so neither one of them are doing a very good job at their respective jobs. “ i had to make sure you were safe, ” he justifies, the gentle touches he’s receiving setting fire to his skin. he’s numbed, mentally, but his words are unfiltered and his emotions are even more so. in this state, all he wants to do is hold and be held, and tyson’s the ideal candidate. “ m’sorry, ” he says at last, lifting his head with great effort and opening his eyes slowly, as if each individual lash holds significant weight. “ d’you not want me here? ” he asks, somehow managing to sound as pouty as he feels. he doesn’t get go of ty’s face, selfishly holding on to him for as long as possible, just as he did when he could feel himself losing him all those months ago. “ would you rather have… whatshisface? ” even wolfie knows he’s being unreasonable, but there’s no denying that moments ago, that appeared to be the only thing that tyson wanted. 

tyson keeps his eyes open for a second, when wolfie nudges their foreheads together, leaning down to do so. he has a hard time remembering that they’re exes, that he can’t tip his head up to chase after a kiss that he so desperately needs to stabilize his frayed nerves. it’s easier to remember with his eyes open, cataloging every change in wolfie’s features since the month they parted. but, eventually, the encompassing warmth that comes from being so close wins out and ty’s eyelids flutter shut, an uneven sigh leaving his lips to puff out against wolfie’s skin. god, they’re so close. he doesn’t think he’s felt this warm in months. “your girl needs you,” he manages at last, breaking his own heart in the process. she’s why wolfie couldnt’ and shouldn’t be over here tending to tyson’s needs. he should be checking on his pretty little girlfriend and not holding so lovingly onto his ex boyfriend. maybe tyson’s just reading too much into the embrace -- maybe it’s more platonic than it feels and it’s only been tinted by the striking memory of how not over wolfie he, himself, happens to be. tyson’s fingers loop around wolfie’s wrist -- for having such large hands, tyson’s always thought that wolf’s wrists were rather dainty. he’s one to talk, all delicate limbs and small features, but he reasons that makes him an expert on the subject matter. they were another place where enamored fingertips would caress, outline, admire when they were caught in between the sheets in an exhausted state of bliss. his thumb presses into the skin and suddenly, his throat feels dry. there’s something stinging behind his eyelids at wolfie’s sullen tone of voice, his apology for wanting to make sure tyson was alright. he didn’t mean to make wolf feel like he had to apologize, like he’d done something wrong. granted, in their state of separation, he supposes his ex had done something wrong but that was for his management to tell him, not tyson. the last thing ty wants to do is push wolfie away. “don’t be sorry,” he amends, sagging against the wall though not breaking their connection. apparently, fear made his decision making process rather grey and muddled. apparently, fear also makes it okay for tyson to lift his hand not looped around wolf’s wrist up to his face, touching his jawline, the cut of his cheekbone, fanning a fingertip across his soft eyelashes. just touching for the sake of touching, unsure of when he’ll be able to do it again. he takes a flickering glance around them out of habit, knowing they’d be caught in too compromising a situation to get away with it but he moved his hand to lightly press the side of wolfie’s neck all the same, trying to ease the whining waver out of his tone. “stop, don’t say that,” he scolds. “whatshisname couldn’t even be bothered to follow me.” not that ty would have wanted him to.

[lcurents]

wolfie.

wolfie is used to crowds, but right now he feels suffocated. he needs air, he tells himself, when the reality of the situation is that the only thing he really needs is in the center of the dancefloor being groped by someone that’s not him. there’s a mixture of combating emotions swirling within him– jealousy, hurt, and desire are among the top of the list. he knows from the get go that ty will go home with this man if he’s asked and, if the wandering hands are any indication, he will be. tyson likes to tease but he also likes to get what he wants, and tonight it’s very clear to wolfie, and everyone else that’s witness, exactly what he’s after. there’s a tug at the sleeve of his shirt, a voice in his ear telling him that they should just go, and she’s right– they should. he already knows how this story ends, so why he’s got to make it hard on himself and watch it play out he’s not sure. he ignores well-intended advice and instead his eyes follow every movement throughout the course of several songs, hungry fingers tracing curves he’s bruised and caressed and held as he confessed secrets and exchanged vows of undying love while tucked up in the solace of warm sheets. tyson can do better, but then again he can do better than wolfie as well. at least this guy isn’t afraid to be with tyson in front of a room of prying eyes, isn’t afraid to be looked at the way tyson’s constructed to be showcased. wolfie wants it to be over, he’s waiting for ty to lean in again and find his ear with his lips and make a suggestion for more privacy, so he can watch them leave and move on with his night. he feels bad for darcy already, because he knows she’s going to be stuck babysitting him after too many drinks, far too sweet to ever complain. a chilling shriek pulls his focus from tyson for the first time since he noticed him, the room falling eerily quiet before breaking out in an uproar of commotion as the lights come crashing down around him. he doesn’t recall throwing himself in front of darcy but at some point he has, and as the initial shock of it all wears off he reacts without a second’s hesitation, taking off with only one thought in mind. he begins shoving his way through the frantic sea of people, broken glass cracking beneath his feet as he trips over wires, clumsy but fueled by his fear of the worst, searching all the while for a body in the rubble. his mind is a mantra of what he’s looking for– tyson, tyson, tyson– and he realizes the voice isn’t just in his head but in his ears as he shouts it aloud. he collides with someone and immediately knows it to be tyson, clutching his shoulders as he maps out his features in the darkness and the chaos, trying desperately to be sure there’s nothing out of place. “ tyson, ” he says, relief washing over him. his hands move to his face then, cupping his cheeks in his palms. “ are you okay? ” 

there isn’t even a moment where tyson wonders who it is that’s saying his name -- he knows it isn’t his discarded dance partner (who probably only knows his name because of his fame) and there’s only one other person who could possibly have noticed his retreat to the shadows. the worried tint to wolfie’s voice alerts tyson to something even more frightening, maybe, than the sudden darkness that has fallen over the party atmosphere --- wolfie still cares. the breakup had been so much easier to swallow when tyson had convinced himself that they had run their course and that’s why the media pressure was able to cause their collapse. they had been meant to breakup and, with how quickly wolfie had been spotted out with some girl, his ex had moved on to the point where he clearly didn’t care about tyson anymore. wolfie not caring, while painful, had made sense. this, the waver to his calls and the swiftness with which he’s heading towards tyson’s small, huddled figure, was harder to understand. he isn’t left with much time to ponder the situation because wolfie’s not only running to him, but running into him. the collision draws ty back to his senses and he very nearly stumbles backwards into the wall were it not for strong (familiar) hands holding down onto his shoulders. they don’t remain there long, sliding up the slender column of his neck and cupping his face, holding him so delicately as if he could break. tyson supposes with how shaken up he is, it’s not too surprising of an action. he surprises himself more by not pulling away. the touch is stabilizing as is the familiar scent of wolfie’s after shave wafting over his senses. the model is instantly struck by how much better it feels to be standing here with his ex boyfriend than any part of his dancing rendezvous had been. in the safety of the darkness, he feels his cheeks heat up in an embarrassed flush the longer wolfie’s palms stay pressed to the skin and he lifts his own hands to lightly touch the side of his former lover’s wrists. wolf can probably feel tyson’s hands shake. “i’m okay,” he means to sound stronger than his voice allows; it isn’t tyson’s fault he scares easily! wolfie probably knows that too. “you shouldn’t be over here.” fingertips ghost down wolfie’s forearms -- god, had it really been so long since he’d last been allowed to touch? “i’m fine, really...” still, tyson tips his head to press his cheek into one of wolfie’s palms, gleaning the comfort and protection their position allowed him before flickering his gaze upwards, waiting for reality to set back in.

[lcurents]

theo.

“tough crowd tonight, is it?” so much for theo’s attempts to lighten the mood; he briefly forgot who he was talking to. “ha ha, so funny you just dethroned me, replaced me on applause, and have resorted me to holding a will suck dick for change sign on the streets of kensington. congratulations.” he gave him a look of mock disappointment. “no. what are ya doin’, mate? the phantom was clearly off stage during this part – how do you not know that i am… ashamed to be near you right now, wow. are you even a cultured rich person?”

“please,” he drags the word out into two syllables alongside his eyeroll, shaking his head. “we both know you’d suck dick for change whether or not your comedy career is down the toilets.” ty shrugs indifferently and makes a dismissive hand gesture. why theo thinks tyson is some sort of expert on dated musicals, he isn’t sure. “even if he were offstage, he was probably still hideous and covering up his face, no? well, now you know how the rest of us feel on the daily -- ashamed just to be near you.”

[lcurents]

wolfie.

subtle is a word that wolf doesn’t seem to know the meaning of, or maybe he just doesn’t care to exercise it. there’s a large enough crowd of people surrounding them, almost the entire cast and crew of the network in fact, but it’s easy for him to forget about them when his eyes are locked on tyson. it’s easy to forget that their relationship was supposed to be a secret and even though that cat is already out of the bag, he’s supposed to be moving on with someone new. his date is locked against his side but he’s not doing anything to help prove she’s more than just a stunt to distract from the very real feelings that still exist for his ex. he doubts anyone is looking at him anyways, if anything they’re looking at tyson and the way he’s dancing, but if they are it’s too late for him to cover it up now. tyson’s always had a way of commanding attention, the way he walks into a room and the way he carries himself is practiced and poised in a way wolf will never be, and he’s just the right amount of charming when he wants to be. hell, wolfie spotted him in a crowd of thousands, and if that’s not proof in itself he doesn’t know what is. it’s no surprise that he’s been able to find himself someone to enjoy, or rather someone to enjoy him, nor is it any surprise to him that ty maintains eye contact with wolf as he maintains their dirty grind, effectively making it all that more torturous for him. he can physically feel each pump of blood into his veins, his heart beating heavily against his ribcage as his aggravation grows. it’s hotter in the room than it was a few minutes ago before he noticed the spectacle ty is making of himself, and he snatches a glass of champagne from the tray of a waiter passing by, emptying the flute before the song is over. it doesn’t help to quench his thirst, but it does make him the tiniest bit less sober, which is appreciated under the circumstances. he can see that their bodies are flush, tyson whispering god knows what into the unknowns ear, but wolf imagines it’s probably filthy. he can’t help thinking how he’d do things better, how he’d turn him around and grind against him from behind, how the tang of his sweat would taste when his lips would find his neck. he feels dizzy suddenly, every drink he’s had catching up with him all at once, but he stands glued to the spot, vaguely aware that somehow, in some respect, this performance is meant for him. 

songs pass and somewhere along the way, tyson plucks another drink off of a tray for himself -- he saw wolfie do the same and figures that if his ex is going to be drunk, he should be too! the more alcohol that passes ty’s parted lips, the filthier his dancing gets. it escalates so that even the people who were giving him an amused side eye feel like they’re trespassing on something personal by letting the svelte little model lure them into watching. the only one whose gaze never wavers is wolfie. his eyes may be glossy and dark but they’re locked on tyson’s body, perhaps with more intensity than even his dancing partner. hands have snuck to tease fingers under the waistband of his too tight pants as some sort of promise of more to come. tyson’s into it if the heat coursing through his system is anything by which to judge but he keeps comparing it to other touches, other promises. it pales next to the real thing. still, tyson’s an actor now and he’s committed himself to this role for the night -- the entire night, not just while wolfie’s watching. the guy is fit enough and he, himself, is tipsy enough. it’s a recipe for a good time. what ty doesn’t account for in his calculations for the night is the scream. 11:59 on the dot and shrill enough to curdle blood, it’s the only thing besides wolfie himself that could stop his lewd grinding up on the crewman. ty pauses, frowning, and then the lights fall. a string of colorful curses leaves his lips and he springs away from his dance partner on impulse, wanting to get as far away from the popping and crackling noises of the downed electric fixtures. his heart races up to his throat, panic his immediate response once everyone else starts reacting in turn. tyson’s hands are shaking and maybe he hears the dirty dancer call out his name in agitation but maybe he’s just making things up and he’s not who tyson wants, anyways. people are asking questions, letting out screams of their own, but tyson finds that he can’t say a word. he takes step after stumbling step backwards, into the already shadowy recesses of the far wall and away from the anxiety inducing crowd. some part of him is naturally looking for an exit but the trouble is he can’t bloody see. for the first time in a long time, tyson feels scared and small, hunched up in the corner.