Originally published Oct. 26th, 2015.

Genre: Hurt/comfort angst with fluff and a relatively happy tone at some parts, comparing it to what I usually write. Another one from a very long time ago and also sort of similar ish to the last one which I was laughing at while I skimmed it. Unedited because why not?

Word Count: 4k

-You are my sunshine, my only sunshine-

He looks at Tyler, his best friend since the first grade, and he's hit by the sudden realization that he couldn't live without him. It might be too much for a thirteen year old to say, but deep down Troye knows it's true.

He doesn't think he should tell Tyler this, though, because it seems like the kind of thing others might find weird. He doesn't really think the lively boy will himself, being that he's always been the one who's so comfortable with everything, but he still can't shake the nagging thought that it'd be a bad idea.

It's not until Tyler stays the whole weekend at Troye's house because his mom is off on a business trip that he realizes these feelings of his are different from those of friendship. He panics when it hits him, leaves Tyler staring after him in confusion as he darts off the couch in the living room to lock himself in the bathroom down the hall. All of a sudden, he can't breathe and everything's wrong and oh, God what if Tyler knows and nononononononono.

But he can't lie to the face in the mirror that's silently demanding to know whether or not this is true. He can't, so he doesn't.

He gathers himself into one piece, brushes away the tear stains on his cheeks, straightens his sweater and calms his breathing until the panic attack has subsided completely. Then, he stares at his reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror and whispers the words out loud for no one but him to hear.

"You're gay."

He pauses, throat locking. The face hardens, more demanding.

"And you like Tyler."

-You make me happy when skies are grey-

It stays his little secret, one he refuses to even think about outside of the comfort of his bedroom after all the lights are out and there's no one to hear him cry or scream in frustration. Still, that doesn't keep him from staring after his best friend just a little too long or stop the happy grin from spreading over his face whenever he's in the other boy's presence.

Tyler doesn't notice, thank God, but Troye sure does when the former starts looking at other boys in that way. He feels almost exhilarated when he catches it, like maybe now there's a chance his crush could like him back. That is, if he hasn't simply been imagining the whole thing.

His hopes, of course, are dashed not long after when Tyler comes over to stay the weekend again, due to the same conditions as that night the year before. This time, however, it's not Troye who faces revelations about himself. Well, okay, it kind of is, but they're all about Tyler this go around.

They're sitting on the floor of his room, chatting and joking and just being the friends they always have, when Tyler suddenly goes quiet and begins to chew his lip. He's not looking at Troye, a fact that both concerns and irritates the latter of the two, and he's started to fiddle with the sleeves of his sweater like he always does when he's nervous.

"Troye?" he asks cautiously after a moment. The boy in question makes a noise of acknowledgment, urging him to continue as he leans forward to hear him better.

Despite his recent theories, he's still in no way prepared for the words Tyler finally does deliver into the quiet of his bedroom, his voice shaky and sounding on the verge of tears.

"I'm gay."

Troye tries not to grin, he does, but he can't help it because he has a chance now. He realizes a moment later that Tyler has finally looked up, probably wondering why he wasn't saying anything, and that his expression is clearly expectant of some response that isn't a confusing grin. Right, he should probably say something now.

"So am I," he throws out easily, still grinning. Soon, Tyler is too. He's happy, over-joyed really, and he can feel his heart starting to beat uncontrollably in his chest, fluttering about in giddy excitement. He has the sudden urge to lean forward more, too. To kiss Tyler. And, suddenly, there's no reason he can think of as to why he shouldn't.

He's leaning in, just about to pull Tyler forward and brush their lips together, when his best friend starts to blush, looking away again, and says, "And, uh, I kind of like this guy."

Just like that, Troye's back to feeling nervous and afraid and so very very uncomfortable in his own skin. Still, he holds briefly onto the hope that the person Tyler likes is him, since he knows for a fact that he's his closest friend. Tyler has other friends too, sure, but Troye's always been the one who's come before them all.

Hesitantly, he asks, "Who?" and prays the answer is the one he's been dreaming of for the past year.

It's not.

Instead, Tyler blushes harder and mutters quietly, "Korey Kuhl." Troye's heart stops at the words, his breath leaving him. He tries to tell himself it's okay, that Tyler probably only has a small crush on the guy and it'll go away soon, that he really can't have expected Tyler to return his feelings right away. This isn't a Disney movie, it isn't going to be love at first sight or anything equally as unrealistic. He just has to wait a little longer and then Tyler will surely like him back. That's all there is to it.

Which probably doesn't explain why his throat feels so closed up or the tears that are threatening to spill down his cheeks. Still, he chokes out something that sounds more like a laugh and less like the half-sob it actually is, and offers an easy-going, "Dude, he's pretty hot."

Tyler laughs loudly in response, all his nerves gone, and they go back to joking around like they always do.

Troye decides that, even if he's going to have to wait for his happy ending, at least he still has Tyler by his side while he does. Because no matter how much it might have hurt to find out he doesn't like him back, he's still the one thing that never fails to make Troye smile.

-You'll never know, dear, how much I love you-

In the year that follows, he thinks about telling Tyler how he feels. He thinks and he thinks and he thinks until eventually it's the only thought on his mind and his friends are constantly accusing him of daydreaming. He's not, not really. Most of the situations he comes up with are more suited for a nightmare than they are a dream.

Troye's never really been much of an optimist, but pessimism isn't exactly his forte, either. He's always prided himself on being a firm realist.

Now, though, all he can even consider is that one day the truth will slip out and Tyler will hate him, whether it be for not telling him or for not getting rid of the feelings when he still had the chance. He can't see a happy ending here, no matter how hard he tries to cling to the one he'd been so set on just a year ago.

It's decided. Tyler can never know about Troye's feelings.

He'll do anything to make sure they never come out, especially when Tyler's so ecstatic over he and Korey's relationship becoming online official.

-Please don't take my sunshine away-

Anything comes sooner than he'd ever thought it would. It arrives in the form of Korey's friend, Marcus, and the knowing way he glances between Troye and his now single best friend, a sharp glint to his eye and a sharp knife in his hand aimed at all their backs. Korey grins when he introduces him to their friend group and Tyler rolls his eyes, the two of them no longer together after realizing they're much better off as friends.

Troye doesn't do anything but shiver, unnerved by the way Marcus smirks like he knows all of his secrets in one short glance.

And the problem is, he does.

Troye finds this out one night a few months later when they're at a half party of sorts in Tyler's living room, their circle of friends sprawled out in an actual circle as the bottle spins between them. Marcus's hand slithers back from flicking at it just as it begins to slow, landing with the drinking end pointed directly at Troye. He gulps, eyes wide and terrified as he looks up to meet those of the older boy.

Marcus has that awful smirk of his plastered across his face again, menacing and promising things Troye doesn't want him to keep. His tone is knowing and condescending when he says, "Either tell us who you have a crush on or make out with me for two full minutes."

It's gross. Troye feels gross. He shouldn't have agreed to truth or dare, especially not one with Tyler seated right next to him.

And he can't tell them who he likes because Tyler can always tell when he's lying under pressure and Tyler will no longer be his best friend if he does, no longer be the one to make him smile when everything goes to shit. He can't tell him the truth, he can't.

Marcus's lips on his are a horrible feeling, one that transcends from a simple bad touch to a grating at his soul and a churning in his gut. The group around them are cheering and counting and every whoop sends Troye's stomach plummeting even further into the hardwood floors beneath them. Marcus yanks him viciously closer, shoves his mouth open with his tongue and a mutter of, "I said make-out with me, not kiss me like your fucking grandma, you prude."

Troye pulls back the minute the countdown reaches its close, shaking and wiping at his lips with a hand trembling so badly he misses his mouth the first five times. He doesn't look at Marcus, but he knows he's grinning like he's won the lottery, and he feels like he wants to claw his own skin off, like it doesn't fit right anymore, like it's too constraining, like everything is wrong.

Beside him, Tyler claps him on the back and tells Troye he's so lucky to have had his first kiss with someone so hot.

-The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping-

It doesn't stop, the thing with Marcus, and eventually all their friends introduce them as a couple and Marcus calls him his boyfriend and Troye doesn't call him anything and Tyler makes inappropriate jokes about their sex life and Troye feels like he doesn't even know who he is anymore, who anyone is, what the world is, what the point of anything is.

He spends his nights awake, stock still and staring at the ceiling in silence. He doesn't cry or scream in frustration anymore, he just lays there and stares and pretends he knows what the fuck he's doing anymore.

He should have told Tyler four years ago when he first realized his sexuality, his feelings for him. He should have told him before Tyler cemented them in his mind as nothing more than friends and this secret became a scorching devil on his chest, slowly burning its way through everything that's left of him. He should have told him before Marcus came along with his knowing looks and cocky grins and whispers of, "Come on. You don't want him to find out, do you?" while his hands creep to places Troye doesn't want them to go.

It's too late now, though, and as much as Troye's beginning to hate himself, Tyler is still the only person who can draw an honest smile from him. He doesn't want to lose that. He can't. It's all he has left.

-I dreamt I held you in my arms-

Troye turns eighteen and five years is a long time to like someone who doesn't like you back and never will, but the knowledge doesn't do anything to make the feelings go away.

Troye turns eighteen and three years is a long time to be with someone who's assuring your destruction with a grin on their face, but the knowledge doesn't do anything to stop what's become inescapable.

Troye turns eighteen and three years is a long time to avoid going the whole way with someone he wishes would never touch him at all, but that doesn't remain the fact for another week, let alone another year.

Troye turns eighteen and two years is a long time to hate himself wholly and undeniably and not have anyone notice, but this still remains the fact.

Troye turns eighteen and five years is a long time to wish for something he'll never have, but eventually he stops wishing to be with Tyler and starts wishing that he could just hate him, could just make these stupid feelings go away already.

-When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken-

Marcus goes to college and Troye doesn't. Marcus goes out drinking and cheating on the boyfriend who doesn't want to be with him anyways and makes friends with new people and Troye sits at home in his bed and tries not to think about all the things that have happened in it over the past year.

Marcus calls at 10:43 on a Sunday when Tyler's sitting on the floor of Troye's room and he almost lets it go to voicemail before he realizes that would just bring up questions he doesn't want to answer. So instead he answers the call and he breathes out a greeting he doesn't want to give and he waits as Marcus seems to choke on the other end of the line.

When a response finally comes, its with a tearful tone Troye has never once heard anything even remotely close to before.

"Troye," Marcus sobs, his voice trembling. "Troye, I'm so sorry. I don't- I'm so sorry, God."

Troye sucks in a breath, feels himself go rigid where he's seated on the bed, watches Tyler lift his head in interest, concern fluttering across his face when he sees Troye's expression. Troye watches him crawl closer, until he's leaned with his arms on the bed and his head tilted to try and hear what Marcus is saying. Troye wants to shove him off, shove him away, because he knows he'll hear every word of what his tormentor's about to say, but he can't. All he can do is sit and listen and feel like he's being sucker-punched right in the gut.

Marcus takes a deep, shaky breath of his own. "I'm just so fucking sorry, Troye. Everything I've done has been so far from okay and God, I fucking abused you. I raped you. I don't- I don't know what to do, Troye. I want to say how fucking sorry I am and how much you didn't deserve any of this and I just- It's not enough. What I did was awful and there's no excuse and no way to make it better and I don't know what I'm doing, but I just need you to know I'm so sorry.

"I used you and I abused you and I fucked you up so bad and I saw it, I saw all of it. I saw how skinny you've gotten and how you don't sleep and I saw the way I made you hate yourself and I should have stopped, but I didn't. I held something you couldn't control over your head and used that power, that leverage to do terrible things and I just-

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry and you deserve to be happy and I'll never call you again, but I really hope one day you are. I hope Tyler realizes what a fucking idiot he is because you're beautiful and you're amazing and I'm sorry I took that away from you."

When Troye hangs up without saying anything in response, he lets the phone drop tiredly onto the bed with a thud. He doesn't look at Tyler, too busy staring blankly at the wall across from him and wondering what suddenly made Marcus into a halfway decent human being, wondering why finally being free from this horror doesn't feel as good as it does in the books, why he doesn't feel liberated or happy or anything at all.

"Troye?" Tyler speaks up from beside him and his voice is weaker than he's ever heard it. He turns at the sound, shifting his blank gaze from the wall to his best friend and noting with no feeling whatsoever that Tyler is pale and horrified and looking at him like he's never seen him before.

Troye doesn't say anything to him, either. Tyler opens his mouth to speak, but closes it when he realizes he has no idea what to say.

-So I hung my head, and I cried-

It's different, after. Distance rings between Troye and Tyler louder and louder with every day that passes until one day Troye glances over and finds Tyler looking at him and realizes he's forgotten what colour his eyes are. Tyler knows, now, or at least Troye's pretty sure he does.

And, just like he'd thought, he's lost him over these stupid feelings of his.

It makes everything worse. He goes back to crying and screaming in frustration at night and stops staring at the ceiling and he goes from not eating to pinching his stomach in the mirror and wondering why he isn't dead yet. Everything's awful and everything's unspeakable and eventually his mother tells him he's moving into an apartment they've gotten for him in the city.

She doesn't have to say that it's because they can't watch him destroy himself anymore. Troye understands. He calls the therapist she subtly programs into his cellphone.

-I'll always love you and make you happy-

Things get better, after that. He still doesn't know what he's doing with his life, with himself, and Tyler still looks at him like he's something made of pre-cracked glass, but Troye doesn't pinch his stomach in the mirror anymore and he doesn't scream or cry or stare at the ceiling, he just sleeps.

He turns twenty-one and Tyler calls and says they're going out whether he wants to or not and he wants to but he also doesn't and in the end he finds himself seated beside his best friend at a bar, drink in hand and another in his stomach. The rest of their little group is off dancing, grinding up against each other and drawing perfect strangers into their midst with the same fluid motions of drunk young adults in the prime of their youth.

Tyler downs a shot, fiddles with his empty glass, and Troye's just about to tell him he shouldn't feel obligated to stay here with him when he finally speaks up.

"Are you..." he trails off, turning to face Troye with an almost desperate expression on his face. It's the kind of look that tells him his answer to whatever Tyler's question can't be a lie, that it'll destroy him if it is. "Are you happy?"

No, Troye almost says, just out of habit.

Yes, Troye almost says, just out of hope.

"I'm getting there," is what he actually says, just out of honesty.

Tyler smiles brighter than the sun and Troye's heart flips in on itself. It doesn't even feel as awful as it would have a year or two ago, doesn't make him wish he hated this beautiful boy beside him or even make him hate himself.

He loves Tyler. It's not a bad thing, anymore. Not really. It's just a simple fact of his existence.

-If you will only say the same-

New Year's eve the following year is when it finally happens. They're at Hannah's party, Troye leaned up against the wall away from everybody staring in fixation at the TV screen and Tyler glancing over at him in curiosity. There's a matching pair of red cups in their hands, Troye's filled with gross beer and Tyler's with champagne, and neither are anywhere close to drunk but both are feeling the warm buzz loosening their joints ever so slightly.

The countdown starts just as Tyler's headed over to him and green eyes light up as they register it, a sudden rush to his steps before he comes to a halt in front of him. Troye raises an eyebrow, Tyler grins widely, and the numbers tick down to zero just as they both lean in.

It's not magical or full of unrealistic fireworks and the classic leg pop of every Disney princess. Tyler's lips taste like alcohol and the fruit he'd been swiping from Hannah's display. It's nice and it's sweet and Troye's kind of been somewhat expecting it for the past year so it's not at all surprising.

They kiss and they pull apart and they smile and the next day they head out with fingers laced together and everything is nice and everything is sweet and Troye's okay. He's healthy, better, and he's doing good in a way that he can easily acknowledge that he doesn't need Tyler to fix him or to help him breathe and his world does not stop turning just for one boy.

Troye's his own person and he's a good person and he doesn't need Tyler, but he loves him and he wants him and it's not at all unhealthy to have him.

-But if you leave me to love another-

He's just as unsurprised by Tyler's leaving him as he is him kissing him. Troye breathes out a laugh, leans his hands against their kitchen counter, feels his cold metal ring dig harshly into his finger. So much for promises.

"So, that's it," he says, sighing as his eyes drift away from his fiancé. Tyler swallows hard, staring hard at the ring on Troye's hand as the tears trickle down his face. He's the only one crying here and he probably shouldn't be, but Troye's been through enough to know that tears don't do any good.

"I'm sorry," Tyler chokes out. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Troye laughs. "It's a little late for that."

Silence.

"I hope he makes you happy," Troye whispers, slipping the engagement ring off of his finger, and he means it. Wholeheartedly and undeniably.

Tyler covers his face and sobs.

-You'll regret it all one day-

He gets the call at 5 AM on his twenty-third birthday, a familiar number that he hasn't seen displayed across his screen in over a year lighting up the device. Troye frowns, fumbling to lift his phone off his nightstand, and contemplates not answering for a long moment. In the end, he decides he's far too curious and far too concerned not to.

"Hello?" he says, voice groggy and rough with exhaustion. It takes a minute too long for the response to sound out down the line.

"I miss you."

Simple, easy. Painful in a way Tyler leaving him in the first place wasn't.

Troye takes a deep, shaky breath and comes a hand through his tangled hair. Beside him, the sheets shift and he glances down to check that he hasn't caused too much of a disruption. "Why are you calling me, Tyler?" he asks after another moment, his voice soft and tired not just from lack of sleep.

He hears a choked sound through the speaker, the same kind he'd heard last year when Tyler had told him he couldn't marry him when he was in love with someone else. "I'm so sorry, Troye. I made a mistake."

Troye sighs again. He doesn't have the energy to deal with this right now, but some part of him is still incapable of knowing Tyler's upset and not doing anything to remedy the situation.

"I'm sorry, too," he says, precisely for that reason. "But it's too late, Ty," he continues, because he has to.

Tyler takes a breath, pauses, lets it out in a trembling rush of crackling air. "I know," he whispers, his voice breaking. "I know. I just- I need you in my life, Troye. I- I need my best friend back, if nothing else."

Glancing down at the man tangled in the sheets beside him, Troye sighs heavily for the third time that night.

"Yeah," he finally replies. "So do I."

And that's it. That's all there is to it.

Troye gets better and some days he forgets Marcus exists and others he doesn't and he almost marries Tyler and then he doesn't and he almost stays in love with Tyler for his whole entire life and then he doesn't and Tyler is the one left pining for someone who will never feel the same again.

Funny, isn't it, how everything works out in the end?