Tyed - Chapter 4: Chapter 4

"Damnit," Tyler mutters under his breath. He's not very good at concealing the thrill he got from that, turning to Lachlen. "Did you see that?"
Lachlen clearly finds him more amusing than anything. "I did, yes."
Lachlen and Chappie share a look, leaving Tyler out of the loop. That's fine by Tyler; he puts the empty drink down and stands. "I'm going to go to the toilet," he says, for several reasons. One is that he actually has to go, another is that he wants to text Nancy and tell her about the madness taking place, and a third is that he wants a moment alone to think. There's a tiny fourth desire that he's just drunk enough to acknowledge, and that's that he hopes he'll run into Colby somehow. "But I'm coming back and taking advantage of the free drinks."
Lachlen points him in the right direction before he has to ask, and saves Tyler looking like a lost idiot or having to ask someone. Tyler takes about five steps before realizing he's wearing the green ribbon and hurriedly shoves his hand in his pocket. He regrets changing it when the Aryan Collector- he had a name, but it went in one ear and out the other- looks at him again. If he saw the green ribbon, he got the hint that he's not wanted and doesn't try to approach Tyler as he makes his way to the toilets.
The toilets are surprisingly clean for any sort of public place, especially one that's not overly fancy or professional. Tyler supposes there's an air of professionalism about this place, even if it's not one he's particularly familiar with. There's no gender division in the bathrooms, only one room with a series of stalls, and so Tyler locks himself inside of a stall to catch his breath and find his thoughts again.
He shoots off about six texts to Nancy, all with minor typos, feeling like he only mentions Colby about once, although when he re-reads, four of them are talking about him. Nancy doesn't answer back immediately, which gives Tyler no excuse to still be hiding in a stall. He takes a deep breath, and without consulting his mind, his heart decides that he's just going to do whatever feels right.
He's leaving the toilet when someone gets his attention. "You're new."
The voice that greets him is deep and melodic, something befitting a radio personality. Tyler's disappointed when he looks and finds the owner of the voice isn't Colby, and surprised when he finds it to be someone who looks like a real-life Jessica Rabbit.
"I'm Luna," the person says. "He/him."
It takes Tyler a second to realise he's giving Tyler his pronouns, which Tyler definitely would've messed up had he not been told. Luna has long ginger hair down past his shoulders, and wears a purple strapless dress that seems to hardly cover his breasts. He's wearing purple eyeshadow and dramatic eyeliner that stirs up the appearance of a cat. Nothing but his voice suggests male.
"Tyler," he answers, feeling he should respond in kind. "... also he/him."
Luna nods briefly and taps his ribbon- green. "I'm not here to hit on you. I just want to ask you if you're going to pursue Colby."
"I don't know," Tyler shrugs, somewhat annoyed that this guy asked such a question out of the blue. "Why, you got dibs on him or something? How'd you even notice...?"
Luna ignores his rudeness- a trend in this club that is surprising, and as welcome as it is kind of annoying. "I'm perceptive, and no. If so, I felt you should know what he does."
"What he does?" Tyler asks, interest piqued. "Do tell."
Luna leans in a little closer; his eyes are such a pale blue that they look white in this lighting. "He fucks everyone. Once."
"What the fuck does that mean?" Tyler demands, even as he's figuring it out himself.
"It means he fucks everyone once," Luna shrugs, again ignoring Tyler's rudeness in favour of being blunt. "He finds someone and has a one-night stand with them, and then doesn't go any further. That's what he does."
"Alright, well, fucking thanks," Tyler says, trailing off towards the end of the sentence. "Why'd you come to tell me that?"
"I thought you'd like to know," Luna shrugs. "I came here for something lasting. Most people I know did too. Assumed you're the same."
"Thanks," Tyler says, somewhat sarcastically, as he goes to make his way back towards Lachlen. "Appreciate it. Truly."
Luna doesn't answer, watching Tyler blankly as the latter begins to walk away. Tyler wonders if it's just him, or if everyone here has to be so strangely, unsettlingly direct. At least now he doesn't have to feel bad about being the rude one, or so he tells himself anyway. He anxiously scouts the crowd for Colby, wanting to make sure of his whereabouts, but he can't find him. It's a parallel feeling to losing something you desperately need to find, although there's no worry involved, only a hope that Tyler would find him soon.
When he sits down next to Lachlen again, he's feeling that, and he's also irrationally angry that Luna would ruin the good feelings he was having about Colby. Lachlen patiently waits for some kind of explanation, knowing Tyler won't be able to keep silent for very long.
Tyler sighs. "Did you fuck Colby, Lachie?"
Lachlen's brow furrows in confusion. "Did I fuck Colby? Why do you care?"
"Somefuck called Luna told me he's probably just going to have sex with me and then never talk to me again."
Lachlen doesn't laugh, but he's clearly trying to hold it back and keep his amusement detached. "Don't you have one-night stands every second week?"
"Yeah!" Tyler agrees, gripping the edge of the bar in annoyance. "So why am I so mad about this?!"
Lachlen shakes his head. "Sometimes Luna says weird things like that. It's just how he is. I don't think he was trying to upset you, in fact, I think he was trying to help."
"I know that," Tyler sighs. "I just... I dunno what it is. I just know that I kinda want to prove him wrong now, but I also, like... don't want to not do what he said was gonna happen. That, but I wanna be different."
"Very roundabout way of saying you want to fuck him more than once," Lachlen says. "Or were you trying to say you want to date him?"
"I'm trying to say I came here to find a sugar daddy and I've decided it's him, because fuck it, that's what's happening and I want to go find him."
Lachlen shakes his head. "At least you made a pretty quick decision."
Tyler has some emotions about that comment, but ultimately ignores all of them. "Can I get one more drink?" he asks Chappie.
"You're not gonna go talk to him?" Lachlen asks, and Tyler gives him a sarcastic look and takes the drink Chappie offers. He downs it quickly, practiced at slamming back drinks, and gives it back. He's lost count of how many drinks he's had between here and the bar they came from, but he's pretty sure that the number is just high enough for him to feel confident actually speaking to Colby.
"I am," Tyler stresses, "now."
He stands with purpose, slamming his hands on the counter. He nods to Chappie and nods to Lachlen, patting Lachlen's shoulder as he turns away and scouts the room.
He can't see Colby anywhere, but then again, the dancing lights and moving people trick his eyes, and the music makes it hard to focus. The edges of his vision blur, and he feels like he's walking straight until he realizes he isn't. He has a goal in mind, though; the stairs are a promising destination. He never heard or saw the invitation, but he knows it's there.
Tyler keeps his wrist hidden in his pocket all across the floor, giving cold stares when he gets a look from anyone. His mind is decided, and he doesn't give a shit what Luna has to say about it or how many times Ash the blonde collector looks at him. He's here, he has an instinct, and following his instinct has never failed him. It's never helped him, either, but that doesn't mean he's about to stop.
The stairs lead steeply up a thin corridor of concrete, adorned by fairy lights to keep it from being too dark. His heart is racing more than he'd like it to; normally he's completely calm at times like this. He feels in control, so he's not afraid. It's a strange feeling, and all he can do is wade through it, using the courage of whatever-drink-he's-on-now to keep pushing him up the stairs.
The upstairs area is small, substantiated only by a few modern-looking couches and a few more doors, all painted the same colour as the wall to disguise them. Rye sits on one, a glass in his hand with a thin line of whiskey along the bottom; and, sitting on a couch 90 degrees from Rye, the man Tyler's looking for.
Colby holds a cigarette in one hand, and he leans leisurely against the couch, his legs stretched out fully across the floor. He seems engrossed in what Rye is saying, until Tyler catches him glancing up for just one moment to register Tyler's presence. Tyler leans against the wall, watching from afar. He's going to play this as cool as he possibly can, he tells himself.
Colby pretends not to have seen him, and for whatever reason, this pisses Tyler off. For a moment, he resolves to wait it out and just watch; if Colby's going to play games, Tyler may as well play along. That's what he thinks, anyway, before the annoyance gets the better of him and he strides forward, deliberately sitting next to Rye, giving the appearance of casually throwing himself on the couch, but really making sure his presence is known. Playing it cool flies out the window, although he's determined to keep up appearances of such.
"Oh, hello, Tyler," Rye says, and he knows something's going on. Even if Tyler didn't already know he'd been told something because of the drinks, he can hear it in his voice. "How's your night been so far?"
Tyler looks at Colby as he answers. "Pretty good." Nonchalant as best he can, but still making a point.
Colby takes a long drag of his cigarette. Tyler knows cigarettes are bad for you, but in Darkfilly Copse where he grew up, any kind of drugs were completely banned, up to and including caffeine. He didn't see a cigarette up close until he was fifteen, three years after he moved to Gem Varily. To him, it's a sign of rebellion, at least in the more primal part of his mind.
"Hello," Tyler says, unable to keep the tone of sarcasm out of his voice. He manages to try and spin it as attractive, though; it comes out sounding like he's a whiny brat, and that pisses him off, so he tempers it and tries to come off more cool. "I don't believe we've met."
Colby's apparent indifference makes Tyler feel stupid for having put in so much effort. "Maybe not." He sits up straighter, leaning on his wrist; the angle allows Tyler to see that there's a black ribbon around it. Tyler keeps his smile as small as possible. "I'm Colby."
"I know," Tyler says, too drunk to give a shit. Playing games is also out the window. Something about the directness of the people here might be getting to him. "Thanks for the drinks."
That brings a real smile across Colby's face, his mouth open in surprise spreading to a grin. Rye, without saying a word, stands, downs the rest of his drink, and leaves, heading through a door at the wall. Tyler keeps his attention on Colby like he didn't even notice, and asks, "so why doesn't anyone come up here?"
"Too quiet, smoking area, and most of them are getting drunk and dancing," Colby answers. He has a deep voice that falls so sweetly on Tyler's ears, tugging at strings deep in his heart and stomach. His heart is still beating kind of fast, and Tyler has to wonder if he's eaten anything weird.
Up closer now, Tyler has the chance to examine his face. He's handsome in an unconventional way; all sharp lines and harsh energy that Tyler can easily see becoming too much. Chappie was right when he said his eyes were almost yellow, and their intensity is mind-boggling. He has lashes and brows that every make up artist would be jealous of, and they only add to the strength Colby's gaze holds. He has longish hair that falls over his face and his ears are pierced with earrings in the shape of a black cross. Considering how much importance the cross held at Darkfilly Copse, never to be trivialized, seeing someone wearing it as an accessory- and one that Tyler's father and the other priests would've never approved of a man having- just shouts rebellion to Tyler, again. His father would absolutely hate this man, think of him as the paragon of sin. Tyler can see him making such judgements, even from jail. He's that kind of man. Knowing what those judgements would be only makes Tyler want Colby all that much more.
"You know smoking's bad for you," Tyler says, after all that thought.
"I hope you don't think you're the first person to inform me," Colby says, leaning forward. Tyler does so too, and their faces aren't very far apart; close enough that Colby can talk at a low tone, and Tyler can still hear above the music. "I know what's good for me, and I generally find it's more fun to ignore that and do whatever I want instead."
"Then you and I have something in common," Tyler says, a small grin sneaking its way onto his face. Colby takes a long drag of his cigarette, and as he moves it away from his mouth, Tyler reaches up and quickly takes it from his fingers. Colby's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he tilts his head up so the smoke goes over Tyler's head, as much as possible. He looks to Tyler for an explanation, and the intensity of his gaze burns down on Tyler like the sun in a burning desert. He tries not to sweat out all his confidence.
"Is it true," Tyler says, drawing out the sentence a little longer than necessary, "that you're only looking for one night stands?"
Colby doesn't break their eye contact. His voice is low and mesmerizing, and it's difficult not to melt and fall to his will. "What do you want me to say?"
Tyler bites back his desire to say he doesn't care and he'll do whatever Colby wants; he does lean ever so slightly closer, though. "I want the truth," he manages.
There's a warm touch against Tyler's hand, as Colby's fingers ghost across it; for a moment, Tyler closes his eyes and just feels that, and there's an electricity about it that so rarely seems to last in touches like these; until the cigarette is snatched from between his fingers again and he curses himself for letting his guard down. He opens his eyes, and Colby leans back against the couch, taking another long drag of the cigarette. Tyler resents the distance.
The smoke curls from his lips before he answers. "I'm waiting for it to be different," he says, words so soft Tyler almost can't make them out. He opens his mouth to say something else, but decides against it.
That's when Tyler takes action. He stands up and moves closer, and as Colby backs against the couch and takes another drag, Tyler realizes what he's doing is bolder than it seemed in his mind, but it's too late to back out now; he leans forward and grabs Colby's shirt, and with it his attention. "I don't know about you," Tyler says, "but to me, this is different."
When Colby exhales, he makes some effort to get it away from Tyler's face, but with how close they are now, it's unavoidable. Tyler blinks through the smoke and pulls himself onto Colby's lap, straddling him; the closeness is an electric shock up Tyler's back, and it only furthers the feeling he's trying to express to Colby in the first place.
"I don't do this. I mean, I do this- but never with anyone like you. Never like this."
Tyler can feel Colby's hand gently touch his waist, and it's so warm and bigger and stronger than Tyler imagined. He closes his eyes again, and tries to keep his mind focused. He took a big risk, being so open and obvious, but it's paying off, Colby feels the same, and it tastes like victory.
"Like this?" Colby pushes for elaboration, and the sound of his voice is grounding. Tyler opens his eyes and finds Colby's face is very close, and he absolutely doesn't mind.
"You know," Tyler says, chewing on the inside of his lip. He gestures vaguely at the fact that he's straddling Colby, Colby's hand on his waist. "Like this. I'm... I mean, I don't really do kinky shit, but if I did, I'd be the dom, you know? I'd be where you are now. Not that this is inherently... well, you know where we are. I assume you've got the black ribbon for a reason."
"If you don't do this, why are you here?"
"I mean, I came because I don't have a lot of choices that don't involve going home and going home is almost the worst thing I can think about doing." The honesty with which Tyler's able to speak when he's in this position is astounding, but it comes out of him without any real input on his part. "My friend brought me here, and I guess I was looking for someone who'd be able to help me stay in the city, but I'm here now with you regardless of what that means and honestly I am too drunk to give a shit about why I should be here. Are we doing this or not?"
Colby's eyes are searching his, and Tyler feels scanned, watched. It's almost uncomfortable, but he feels no desire to move. Finally, Colby speaks, slow and uncertain. "Where do you live, Tyler?"