Tyed - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Tyler stands in the shower, staring at the condensation dripping down the shower wall. He has a smile that comes and goes as he thinks about what just happened, as his thoughts chase themselves in circles. On one hand, that wasn't anything like what he expected, but on the other hand, it was so strangely amazing, and on the other hand he doesn't like thinking about what exactly about it was so good, and on the other hand Colby never even touched him and that's still the best sex he's had in a while.
The problem with admitting that much, though, is that a huge amount of the enjoyment he got from it has a name, and that name is masochism. He doesn't want to admit to that.
He does think, though, of the way that Colby changed. How quickly he shifted into a persona that Tyler can only describe as dominant, which as he understands it, is part of what BDSM means. It sends a shiver down his spine to think about it. In theory, he's disinterested in BDSM for the most part. Tying people up, or hitting them with stuff, has never been of particular interest to Tyler; he's dabbled in it ever so slightly, and he could honestly take it or leave it.
But never had he considered that maybe he was the one who wanted to get tied up, or hit like that. Before he'd done it, it hadn't seemed of interest, but now just remembering how it felt makes his dick twitch in anticipation, and he almost wants to go back and ask for more. The embarrassment that would come from doing so overrides that need, though.
It goes hand in hand, he supposes, with the strangeness of his attraction to Colby in the first place. Tyler had previously always gone for people that were attractive in the young, pretty kind of way that, honestly, he himself was. He was cool, he was hot, and he always found people that were the same, and then he was gone the next day. The more lasting connections have always fallen outside of that bracket, though. Lachlen wasn't cool in the same way that Tyler was, but he was smart in a way unlike most people Tyler dated, and he was one of few that Tyler ever dated for more than a few weeks, lasting almost a year.
Thinking of him, it occurs to Tyler that he'd be the best person to talk to about this. Maybe he'd have some advice as to how to deal with this new... thing of his.
The conclusion Tyler comes to is that Colby definitely isn't his normal type, and this definitely isn't his normal thing, but that might actually be a point in favour of it. His normal thing has never felt like this before.
When Tyler steps out of the shower and into the spare room, he finds Colby waiting for him, standing still and silent. He has a towel wrapped around his waist, and when he looks he finds his clothes are sitting neatly on the bed. For some reason, this twigs as weird to Tyler, and he gazes at Colby in confusion.
"Do you want me to take you home?" Colby asks quietly, and hearing that, Tyler's heart sinks a little.
"I can't stay here?" he asks, cursing himself silently when he realises how needy he sounds. "I mean-"
"Do you want to stay here?" Colby interrupts him, and when Tyler detects the well-masked uncertainty in his voice, he realises where he messed up. He honestly didn't even think once about how Colby would've interpretted his actions.
"I mean... yeah," he says, lifting his towel to rub at his wet hair. He's never had much care about being nude around others, and it helps make a point. He searches Colby's face, and he doesn't know what he's looking for, but he understands what he sees. Colby didn't want him to go, but he assumed that's what Tyler would want.
Tyler takes a deep breath. "Look, I- I haven't done anything like this before."
"I know," Colby says, and it looks like he's searching for words, but Tyler's not done.
"I don't know what you thought," Tyler tells him, "but, uh. I think you're wrong?"
Colby's looking at him, intense yellow gaze catching Tyler's breath. He tilts his head slightly, and as soon as the edge of the smile catches his mouth, Tyler knows it's okay. "You don't know, but I'm wrong?"
"Don't make me say it," Tyler scoffs, walking over to the bed to get his underwear and at least put that much on. "Let's not talk about it."
"Just so we're clear-" Colby comes up behind Tyler, wrapping his arms around him. Tyler leans back, and Colby's lips are against his neck, making him shiver. "-you're telling me you enjoyed that?"
"Sssh- shut up." Tyler flushes red, swatting at Colby's hands. "Maybe."
Colby laughs lowly, and although nothing about his tone or behaviour gives it away, Tyler can tell he's relieved. It's the contrast with before. "So, now that that's out of the way, would you like to see the rest of the house?"
"I'd love to," Tyler says, admittedly excited. The shower was already kind of fancy for Tyler's tastes, with two showerheads that the water could switch between, and he wanted to know what the rest of the place was like.
So Colby takes him upstairs. The house itself doesn't take up much space sideways, but it's long, and among the three floors- four if you count the basement that Tyler only briefly saw the entrance to- there's far more space than it seems one person could use. The first floor contains a living room, a kitchen and a dining room, all relatively open-plan, and there's a balcony out to the street that Tyler's tempted to head out onto, had it not been for the fact that he's only in his underwear. The couch is black leather that looks like a dream to stretch out on, the TV is huge, and the room's decorated so nicely, with art pieces that probably cost far more than they should've and a general vibe of class that Tyler's never even seen in his life. Even if he had hated what just happened, he honestly would've dealt with it just to keep access to this life. Out the window, he can just see the last remnants of the sun setting, and the light of the golden hour stretches across the two of them. Tyler turns to Colby, reaching up and lacing his arms around his neck; he feels at peace. If this is his life now, then karma is real, and the hell he went through for the first twelve years of his life is coming back to him, turned good, in this gift.
That thought only lasts for a moment, because just as Tyler presses his lips against Colby's to fully grasp the moment, Colby's phone rings. Tyler steps back, watching his face as he looks at the caller ID. He frowns and immediately declines the call.
"Who was that?" Tyler asks, assuming it was business Colby didn't want to deal with, but figuring it's worth asking about anyway.
Colby shakes his head. "Don't worry about it. Whatever she wanted can wait."
The fact that he didn't directly answer the question makes Tyler suspect that he didn't want to say it was his ex. Remembering she exists reminds Tyler that Colby was married, and divorced, and something clearly went wrong for a reason. He doesn't know her, but he hardly knows Colby. Despite how clear Colby made it that Tyler could speak up and say no to the things Colby told him to do, he also called that "going easy" on him. Tyler's got no idea how he'll feel in a week, in a month, in a year.
He pushes all that down, determined to enjoy what he can before he manages to spoil it in his own mind. That happens far too often. "So ignore her," he tells Colby, running his fingers through the back of Colby's hair. "And show me your bedroom."
Colby laughs lowly, leaning down to kiss Tyler. There's still passion in it. "What, once wasn't enough for you?" Colby grins as he pulls away. Tyler blushes and looks away, cursing himself for how out of control his responses just got. He's normally much better in control, but he feels like he just discovered sex for the first time again, and thinking about it turns him red.
"Shut up," Tyler mutters, kissing him just to shut him up. Colby takes him upstairs, leading him by the hand.
Pretty much the whole of the top floor is Colby's bedroom, excepting a rooftop balcony that covers about a third of the level. The balcony can be seen through a glass door, and it's filled with what looks like a beautiful garden, but Tyler only looks at it for a minute before taking in the room itself. Colby's bed is huge, probably the largest size they make, covered in deliciously silky red sheets and definitely lonely for one person. There's a walk-in wardrobe, and a few books sit on the bedside table, one of which has had a coaster shoved into it as a makeshift bookmark. The bed is made, but kind of lazily, with pillows askew. Seeing these simple things makes the whole idea of dating this man a lot less intimidating. Tyler has a lot to make up for as it is. After all, Colby could've chosen any of those people he met at that club, and it truly seems like he's choosing Tyler.
There's a limit to Tyler's optimism, though. As Luna said, Colby sleeps with a lot of people- but only once. What if he's used up his one ticket?
Tyler goes over and sits on the bed, smoothing out the sheets. Colby heads over to the wardrobe, his intentions at first unclear, until he starts to unbutton his shirt. Tyler watches intently from where he sits, following the curve of the muscles in Colby's back. Tyler can't explain why he finds Colby hot when he's pretty far from his usual type, but he definitely, definitely does. He's nowhere near old yet, but there's something more mature about his face and body that just seems to magnetize him.
Tyler looks at the bed behind him, and he scuttles backwards so he can climb under the sheets, inviting himself to sleep here. The mattress is incredibly soft, which Tyler always prefers, after having slept on a hard bunk bed for all of his childhood. The sheets are thick, and cover him snugly right up to his neck. When he closes his eyes, he smells Colby, a smell he can best describe as clean and sharp and slightly woodsy. It's difficult not to drift off right then and there; all of a sudden, he's aware of the aches and pains his body was holding onto, and sleep offers a relief he craves.
He's following that feeling when the sheets shift, and silently Colby slides up next to Tyler. Tyler migrates closer to him, wrapping his arms around Colby's warm torso. He runs his fingers over his skin and hides his face in his neck. It's not something Tyler usually does, but he's as comfortable as he's ever been, and he goes right to sleep like that.
Tyler's awareness shifts in and out, but what's clearest in his mind is the image of hiding under the bed. He reaches out and feels the scraggly carpet underneath his fingers, and he feels calmer than usual. He feels warmer and safer; usually when he hides it's a terrible decision made out of fear, but just this once it feels nice, fine to be here.
He rolls over and feels the struts of the bed above him. His fingers run over each metal bar, gripping them suddenly when he hears footsteps heading towards him.
It's dark in the room, dark where Tyler lays and hides, but he knows intuitively that he's under his father's bed. It was always the riskiest place to hide, as well as the least likely place for him to be found. He wasn't supposed to be in here unless his father called him in, and if his father called him in he wasn't supposed to be hiding.
He holds his breath, waiting to be caught out. He sees the footsteps- large and heavy, his father's for sure. They stop in front of the bed, and Tyler's heart stops beating. It doesn't feel so warm under here anymore.
The feet become knees, and suddenly Tyler's staring into the darkened face of his father, like a grotesque image of his own face in fifty years if he became an alcoholic. His father has a soft, crooked smile, which is always so, so much worse than when he's angry. "Whatcha doin' down there?" Tyler's father says, extending a hand. "C'mon out of there."
Tyler's 'no' remains frozen in his throat. Cold shivers draw lines up his spine. He shuffles towards his father, like being pulled into a hurricane or a whirlpool. He knows he's nineteen but yet he's so much smaller than his father is, at his every whim no matter what.
He wants to avoid being hit and kicked and screamed at, and so he does what he's told oh so often. He stands up, finding himself looking up and tilting his head back to meet his father's eyes.
"That's not so hard, was it?" his father says, and Tyler shakes his head slowly.
"No, sir," he mutters, struggling to get his voice loud enough to be heard. His father grabs him around the ribs, lifting him up and setting him gently on the edge of the bed.
A sickness swirls in Tyler's stomach, but this dream doesn't have much of a chance to turn into a true nightmare. Tyler's vague, far-away awareness of something like his body shifting seems to break the room with a crack down the middle; there's a warmth like an arm being put around him, and near the door a fire alights.
The fire reflects in Tyler's eyes as the sickness turns to excitement, and he stands up, walking forward and leaving his father behind him. He reaches out to the fire, feeling the warmth creep up his arm, across his torso, over his face. He breathes in the smoke and it relaxes his shoulders. It smells nice here, clean and sharp and slightly woodsy.
"Tyler." His father's voice, low and angry, is the chill that he has to fight against. "Come back here."
Tyler inhales the heat and turns to face his father. "No," he says, letting it come out of his mouth this time. "No, I won't."
"Tyler." His father takes a step forward, encroaching even as the fire spreads, its heat wrapping around Tyler like a blanket. It's heading up both sides of the room, licking up each wall. His father only looks disappointed. "I love you, Tyler, and you treat me like this? Come back. Do you like upsetting me?"
"No," Tyler admits, his heart racing. His father takes another step, and all of a sudden the warmth of the fire is the warmth of his father's arms around him and that's a tainted heat that quickly turns Tyler's blood cold. "No," he gasps, breathing in nothing but cold air. Like icy water, he feels himself drowning.
"You're a good boy," his father whispers in his ear when he doesn't fight back now. Now that he doesn't have the energy. "I love you."
"No," Tyler gasps, reaching out to the fire, trying to find the courage to stand up for himself again. He squints, and he realises that the fire is blocking the door. On the other side of the door, he sees Kevin and Kali, both looking the same as they did the last day that Tyler saw them.
He sees Kali crying, and Kevin's face hardened into the best resemblance of not caring that he can manage. The fire seems to consume them, but they don't burn. They stand in the fire, waiting for Tyler to come help them, come save them. Tyler's father strokes his hair gently, kissing him softly on the cheek.
"Get off me," Tyler chokes out, shoving with all the force he can manage, which isn't a lot. He leaps towards the door, stretching his fingers as far as he can; Kali looks like she reaches for him, but Kevin just scowls, turning his nose up and crossing his arms.
He's running for just a moment when he trips and falls, and the fire seems to put itself out around him, leaving him on the cold floor. He doesn't get a chance to get up; a hard grip catches his ankle. "No," he cries out, reaching out for Kali. It seems their hands almost touch, and yet they're miles away. "No. No, no, no-" he feels himself dragged across the floor. "Daddy, let- let go of me! No!"
Behind Kali and Kevin, Tyler sees Trey, an image of himself through a funhouse mirror. Trey's crying, and when Tyler looks back he's in the room with them, sitting behind his father, rubbing at his face like he can get the images out of his eyes and spidery feelings and memories of touch out of his brain.
"Trey, help me," Tyler cries, feeling his throat choking up. It's not the way he used to choke on smoke, but it does bring tears to his eyes like that did. He's lifted up and he hits the bed, hard, and suddenly Trey is shaking him, and he grips onto Trey's arms, allowing himself to be pulled up and away. He's shaking with fear, but he can hear a voice calling him out from where he's drowning.
"Tyler," he hears, over and over, quiet and hoarse and worried. He reaches into the fire that envelops him, feeling his body shift and realising Trey isn't here. Neither is Kevin or Kali or his father. The itchy spidery feeling on his skin doesn't disappear, and neither does his father's voice echoing in his mind. He realises he's crying. He opens his eyes.
After every one night stand, he would lay there and pretend to sleep until they fell asleep, and then he'd leave if he could. So many late-night Ubers, he used to take. He never expected nor wanted anyone to speak to him again the next day, so he didn't care about burning those bridges any more than he cared about burning anything else. If it came up, he'd tell them there was some emergency. Nobody ever believed him.
He had a policy of only sleeping alone, and now he remembers why. How stupid he was to break that rule, even to someone who knew he came from Darkfilly Copse. Colby had made a huge mistake helping Tyler in the first place, and he'd wasted a tonne of money on him already. It was only a matter of time before he figured out he should leave before he wastes anything else on Tyler.
When Tyler takes a few deep breaths and remembers where he is, he sits back and looks Colby in the eyes, rubbing away a few stray tears. "I'm sorry," he says, trying not to choke it out. "I'm sorry-"
"What are you sorry for?" Colby half-whispers, gently rubbing circles on Tyler's back. "I should be sorry. I didn't- you weren't prepared, and I didn't do enough aftercare-"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Tyler laughs when he realises that Colby thinks it has to do with the sex they just had. "No, you didn't- it wasn't related. I have, uh, nightmares most nights." Something like that is usually hard to admit, but after hearing that it's pretty easy to tell the truth. Colby's brow furrows, but he seems to bring it on board immediately without much issue.
"Is there anything I can do?" Colby asks, but Tyler shakes his head. He leans into Colby's shoulder, taking the comfort that he can get. He squeezes in closer to the warmth as a shiver of cold passes over his skin.
"Just hug me," Tyler mutters, and Colby's arms envelop that cold and make it disappear.
There's a moment of silence while Colby contemplates. "So... nothing that we did earlier triggered you? I was worried-"
"No," Tyler clarifies quickly. "No, that was all... uh, fine." Tyler tries not to blush at the memory. "That... kind of thing... is all good. There are a few things to avoid, though."
"Like what?"
"Ice, the cold." Tyler stills sees frost in the forest when he closes his eyes so often. "Don't ever get lovey-dovey with me. And I'm never, ever calling you shit like daddy. Or sir, if you want to be kinky."
"Hmm." Colby's hands run over Tyler's back, warming him up further. "...but anything else is fine?"
"Maybe," Tyler mutters, brow twitching as he tries to think of where Colby's mind is going. "...what were you thinking?"
"Let's discuss this in the morning," Colby says. "If you truly enjoyed that kind of thing."
Tyler did, but he's not about to admit that to anyone. He giggles a little, not at anything Colby said, but at how quickly they transitioned from Tyler's nightmare. How fine he feels now.
This time, when he goes back to sleep, he doesn't have a nightmare.