Lunch comes around quicker than expected. Brendon would assume it was because he, Tyler, and Carina were having a pretty good time playing cards. Well, cards for a while, then they switched to Pictionary, and Brendon quickly learned Tyler should definitely stick to writing in comparison to their art.

He never said anything, but once it had been their turn when the three of them first started playing, neither him nor Carina could guess what they had been drawing.

"Sheep," he muttered, unsure.

Tyler shook their head.

Carina looked a bit closer as they continued to draw, gasping. "Spaghetti!"

Tyler's eyebrows raised and pulled together, shaking their head once again. They were about to keep on going in hopes someone would eventually get it, but they had run out of time.

They huffed, sitting back.

"What was it?" Brendon asked.

Tyler ran a hand through their hair; it's been growing out a lot. He still wondered if they'd shave it again, or if maybe them and Josh both were commiting to not shaving.

"It was a Christmas tree." They deadpanned.

Carina and Brendon both looked at each other, pursing their lips together to hold themselves back before turning to Tyler once more.

"Oh," Brendon nearly laughed.

Of course, he never did.

Now, though Pictionary had been very-- unintentionally-- amusing, everyone migrated downstairs after cleaning up the gameroom for lunch. Grace sat to Brendon's right, and Tyler sat at his left. They sat closer than normal, too. The both of them were nearly thigh-to-thigh, but he assumed it was because Tyler had been missing the closeness Josh constantly gives them.

Brendon will have to compensate, and hopefully that's okay.

"What do they serve here?" They ask, quietly so it was only shared between them.

Brendon grabs the menu, reading it off to them one by one, and explaining how it the entire thing works. The employees bringing around a cart for beverages; water, coffee, sometimes hot chocolate, and then will later come back to ask what they'd like to eat.

"What do you think is the best?" Tyler then wonders once he read the choices outloud.

Brendon looks up from the menu to look at them. Why did his opinion matter? They connect eyes, but he quickly glances back down and clears his throat. "Uh, I mean. . . I like the chicken and rice. . .?"

Tyler hums. "I'll get that, too."

"Okay."

So, they both ask for coffee, and Brendon decides his mom needs water instead. Time passes and the conversation is steady enough, Tyler's hand slowly holding onto Brendon's knee the longer they sit there until that hold turns into a tight grasp.

The two of them connect eyes as it happens, but neither of them say a word about it.

Tyler only asks, "What's your favorite meal?"

Brendon thinks they're weird. Tyler has the tendency to ask out of the blue questions, and most of them are about food, too. It's nothing important but Brendon doesn't mind; in fact, in a way, it's charming. They're getting small things out of him.

He lifts his shoulders. "I don't know. I've never thought about it."

Still, they both are speaking quietly to each other. Carina glances their way and rolls her eyes with a smile, but it's okay. Sometimes the two of them just need themselves.

"Well, think about it." Tyler says.

Brendon purses his lips. "Why?"

They look at him incredulously, like it's obvious. "I want to make you your favorite food sometime. So, I need you to think about it, or else I can't do that."

Brendon's heart might have skipped a beat. All these random questions are important.

He nods, small. "Okay."

Tyler nods as well. "Good."

That's how the conversation ends; their hand still on his knee for awhile until the food finally arrives, and Tyler is quick to pull away. Brendon, on the other hand, doesn't have the chance to tend to his food because it's the constant cycle of helping his mother with hers first before anything else.

Immediately, too, she looks at him.

"Grab the spoon," he mutters.

Slowly, he watches her grab a fork.

He's quick to take it out of her hand and switch it to a spoon. "Spoon." He repeats, states. She got the soup, so today, the eating process should come a lot easier for her than other times. "Can you do it from here?"

Grace licks her lips. "Yes." And, surprisingly, she does do it herself, correctly, on the first try.

Brendon's nearly in disbelief, but nonetheless, gets comfortable in his seat again and takes the first bite of his own food. He looks to Tyler afterwards, who chews with a napkin at their mouth before turning to him.

"This is actually pretty good." They muse.

Brendon shrugs, shaking his head. "Anything you make is better."

The compliment comes naturally, and he doesn't realize he even said it until Tyler rolls their eyes and smiles. He doesn't realize he even said it until Carina turns to Tyler and asks, "Are you a chef?"

"I wouldn't say I'm a chef, I just like to cook." They take a sip of their coffee.

Brendon glances at them before looking to Carina. "They're better than a chef."

Tyler chuckles. "I think Josh is rubbing off on you."

Probably. It's the only thing that makes sense.

"You know it's true." Is all Brendon replies with, heartbeat increasing because it's unlike him to do this. He bites his lip and taps his foot at the thought; this probably wouldn't last very long.

Tyler has an upturn on their lips. "But if I say that, it just sounds cocky."

Brendon dismisses that and leans forward a bit to look at Carina. "They really are a good cook. Everything else never tastes as good after you've had their food. I swear." Carina's response is a smile full of temptation, nodding, but something doesn't seem right.

Something really doesn't seem right when she looks nervous as she turns to Tyler, certain thoughts in her head, and Brendon wished he could just read her mind. A thing as simple as her expression makes him uneasy.

What is she thinking about, anyways?

It turns out, Brendon didn't need to read her mind to know, because she timidly opens up. "That reminds me, I've been. . . I've been meaning to ask you something."

Tyler seems a bit surprised by that, but instead of shying away, nods along. "Yeah?"

Carina breathes heavily, glancing down at her hands for a moment. "I don't mean to be invasive or anything-- I just, I want to understand because, to me, it's a big part of who you are."

Brendon knows what she means, now.

Tyler seems to as well, yet continues to let her speak.

"I just think it's important for you to explain it more to me because it's something I need to understand, especially from you." Carina seems nervous, and it's completely understandable. She's asking for an explanation of who Tyler is. "Is that okay?"

There's no hesitance in their actions, and if there is, Brendon never caught it. "Of course."

So, Brendon sits back, trying not to let his mind run at the fact that he's soon to hear Tyler talk about their identity in person for the first time. He's heard it from Josh countless times, but now, it's different. So much different. Josh may be married to Tyler, but he isn't the one experiencing everything. Tyler knows every single detail, and Brendon isn't sure if he's ready to hear it all.

Still, he has no choice, because Tyler's ready.

They hum, trying to process everything they just might say, and Carina waits patiently, giving them as much time as they need.

Finally, Tyler swallows, looking to her. "I guess what I should say first is that I don't conform to either gender. The thought makes me sick. Confused.  Uncomfortable." They shake their head while speaking, leaning against their hand. "In the beginning, I didn't understand. I just knew who I was then, wasn't me. It didn't feel right, and really, it was just tormenting because of everyone knowing me by he." They visibly gulp, Adam's apple bobbing. "That isn't me. Even just saying that makes me feel gross."

Brendon can't seem to pick his head up from his lap; Tyler's words suffocating his mind.

"It took me a long time to realize it was more than just something I could overcome, because the more I thought about it, and the more people referred to me, the worse it got." Deep breath, steady sigh. "I learned it was gender dysphoria. And even though I don't conform to either, doesn't mean I can't have it. My gender is neither. Neutral. And for a while, before I told anyone, I started using gender neutral pronouns when it came to myself, before even knowing what non-binary was."

Carina listens to every word intently, nodding, entranced. Tyler, really, is spilling their heart out right now; it's nothing Brendon has ever seen from them.

"The thoughts of maybe I just wanted to be a girl came across my mind a lot, but still, that never felt right. I struggled so much with figuring out who I was, and it really wasn't easy, but after I finally, finally realized what it had been, it's like this huge weight was lifted off my shoulders." They scratch at their elbow in thought. "After months and years of not knowing myself, to finally understand who I am, and look at that label and know that's me-- I can't even explain it to you. I know it's not the easiest to understand, really, I do, but I can't help how I feel, and I just know being referred to as they or them feels right. Like that's how it always was supposed to be."

Tyler looks up from the spot at the table they'd been staring at, turning to Carina. "Does that make sense? Sorry."

Carina seems at a loss of words, and truly, Brendon is too.

Tyler's such an overcoming person it almost burns on the way down, because he hadn't even realized how hard this probably was for them. He's too passive when it comes to these things.

Carina breathes, deeply, with a steady smile. "I do understand. Thank you, really, for telling me that. I understand."

Tyler nods, and stays quiet the rest of lunch. It isn't surprising; they're probably trying to cope with the fact that they just opened up so much to a person they've never met. That's not like them.

It isn't long either before lunch is coming to an end and Brendon says his goodbyes to Carina. He hugs her tightly, arms around her back, and whispers, "Thank you for listening to them." A lump is in his throat as he says it.

Carina shakes her head. "I needed to know. You should be thanking them for telling me."

It's true, Tyler's never been so vulnerable. He needs them to know it's okay, that this will help all of them proceed with a better understanding of something so important.

They pull apart from each other.

"See you later," Carina mutters to the three of them as they begin to walk away.

Tyler waves with Grace, Brendon only smiles.

They both are patient with his mother as she makes it up the stairs, and by the time they're to the second level, Tyler keeps their head hanging low beside the two of them.

With a loud thump in his chest, Brendon grabs their hand. "Are you okay?"

Tyler looks up, eyes connecting, brows furrowed. They nod. "I'm okay." They assure. "I've just. . . I never talk about it outloud to people. And. . . I'm not used to them understanding." They shrug.

Brendon frowns, hand shaking in theirs. "I know I probably should have known sooner, but you explaining it helped me understand a lot more, too. I've. . . I've only ever heard Josh explain it." He bites down hard on his cheek, nerves eating him away the same.

Tyler's eyes travel all around his face before they stop in place, Brendon stopping with them.

"What's--"

Tyler pulls him into a hug, burrowing their nose into his chest and breathing him in. Their hands are tight at his shoulder blades, and Brendon's fall to their sides. "Thank you, Brendon." They utter softly.

His brows pull together. ". . . For what?"

Tyler's heart beats against him, and he wants to feel it forever. "You don't have to do any of this for me, but you do. You choose to respect the way I feel. You make me feel valid. You use the right pronouns and help other people with it, too." They huff. "You're a good person. I'm really lucky to have you. You know that, right?"

Brendon knees go weak, he almost falls. He holds them tighter to steady himself, the lump in his throat getting thicker. "T-Tyler. . . I don't-- I just--" he can't think straight. "It's the least I can do, okay? Please don't act like I'm so great because of something so little."

Tyler shakes their head. "You don't get it." They mutter, grip becoming looser as they pull away to look at him. "It isn't little. It's probably the biggest thing you can do for me, so please, accept that."

Brendon's trembling as he swallows. "Okay," he croaks out.

It's hard for him to believe he's done something significant.

Tyler stares into his eyes and nods, going back to holding his hand. Grace has already made it to her room, so they both walk in sync together, happily. It's good.

***

By the time they should be getting ready to go downstairs for dinner, Tyler looks to Brendon from their spot at the dining chair. "We should go get something to eat instead," they murmur.

Brendon looks up at them, being sat on the floor. They've been watching Family Feud for longer than it was bearable, but his mother didn't think that was the case at all.

"Do you not want to eat downstairs again?" He wonders.

Tyler pulls a knee to their chest. "Is that bad?"

Brendon's quick to shake his head. "Me neither." He admits. He, really, just wanted to spend as much time alone with Tyler as he could this weekend. Grace is a memory in the distance of it all.

Tyler smiles. "Do you think you might be able to grab a rotisserie chicken or something?"

Brendon begins to stand from the floor with a groan; the ache in his back proceedingly getting worse as the days go by. "I can." He states, then, looks to his mom momentarily before he turns back to Tyler and purses his lips. "Are you. . . Going to be okay with her while I'm gone?"

Tyler doesn't second guess themself. They nod easily. "I will."

Brendon breathes. "Okay. I'll, uh, take her to the bathroom before I leave."

It takes a while to finally get everything situated before he does leave, and he never tells Tyler that he really didn't want to be by himself in public right now. Hence, he leaves with a meek goodbye and is off on his own anyways, anxiety following him right behind.

***

When Brendon gets back, he storms into the apartment and sets the chicken down distractedly before rushing to his bag and fumbling with one of the zippers. Tyler watches him with worried eyes, only to see him pull out his pen and quickly take a long, long hit of it.

He falls to the couch, not in the right state of mind to worry that his mother isn't beside him.

Tyler stands up and begins making their way to towards him. "Sorry." Brendon breathes, wide eyes staring up at them the closer they get. He didn't want to do this in front of them, but he needs to.

They shake their head, sitting down and pulling him close until his back was to their chest. "It's okay."

"There was just so many people there and I thought I'd be alright but--"

"It's okay." Tyler repeats, chin on his shoulder.

Brendon stops momentarily, nodding, and taking another hit. Being brave wasn't always for him, but he'd still be fine in the long run, because Tyler's here with him.

***

Brendon learns that Tyler had put his mother to bed because she kept insisting she was too tired to stay up any later, and after they tell him, they quietly ask, "Was that alright?"

He shrugs. "She usually can barely make it through dinner time because she's so tired. I don't know what it is." Brendon mutters, he and Tyler sloppily eating the chicken on the couch together, and yeah, he's pretty high, too.

"She called me Mason. Who's Mason?" They then wonder.

Brendon takes a moment to process it, hearing his sibling's name come from their mouth. "My brother."

They nod, leaning back. "I have a brother named Jay. He lives with my parents still." They say, because they can. "I'm pretty sure he's Zack's best man." They continue, lips going crooked.

Brendon has a hard time remembering who Zack is, but he finally understands when thinking about the events coming up. "The wedding." He states, rather loudly as well. "Are you excited?"

Tyler, at the mention, looks the last thing from excited. "It's whatever." They whisper, going no further.

Brendon doesn't push either, he only pulls the left leg off and takes a big bite. He's the least bit embarrassed about being so messy, because Tyler's here with him, doing it the exact same way.

***

"Think we should blow up the air mattress now?" Tyler asks after about an hour or so of them and Brendon sitting side-to-side on the couch, the container that once had the rotisserie chicken in it now empty between them.

"Yeah." Brendon utters, sitting up from the couch and pushing it back as far as he could. "We'll put it here." He points to the big open space he just made, right in front of the television.

Tyler nods, too busy getting the deflated mattress out to do more.

The next twenty minutes are solely spent on trying to blow up the air mattress, as well as finding blankets and pillows to go along with that. Soon enough, Brendon gets Tyler the best pillow in the apartment and a warm enough blanket, making the bed for them.

Usually he'd be changing into his pajamas by now, but he did that a while ago. He needed to get comfortable after coming back from the grocery store and wearing sweats and a sweater seemed like the best option.

Tyler, though, has yet to change.

He watches them scurry through their bag before bringing out a dark green hoodie, slowly slipping it on.

It's, once again, something Brendon has never seen them in before, but that isn't surprising. Josh had exposed how much clothes they have, and it's a lot. The only thing he's seen them wear more than once is their boots.

The color suits them, he thinks.

Brendon huffs afterwards, falling down onto the couch while playing with a piece of his hair.

It's fine, this is fine, watching Tyler is okay until they begin pulling down their jeans without any warning, and Brendon knows this time he should definitely look away, but Brendon also knows he can't find it in himself to do that. He had no intent to invade privacy; Tyler must not mind if they're comfortable changing in front of him, are his thoughts.

So, his eyes continue to wander while his bones rattle in trepidation. An unknown question lies on his shoulders as he looks at them in their briefs.

An answer. It's clear now.

Their boxers are skin tight, and Brendon nearly chokes on his spit at the sight.

Tyler gets their jeans off from around their ankles and tosses them into their bag before turning to Brendon. His only reasonable answer for what's happening is that he's still a bit stoned, because although Tyler is looking directly at him, he continues to stare, and not at their eyes.

That lump in his throat from before comes again, much thicker than usual.

Finally, Brendon looks up at them, and they say nothing to one another. His lips tremble for something, but not a single word comes out, so they're left to stare. Tyler only looks down at him with a face he's grown familiar to; one with little expression and hard eyes.

Are they mad? He shrinks further into the couch.

Their whole frame is uncertainty wrapped in temptation. He glances downwards again, heart skipping a beat before he meets their eyes once more.

Tyler blinks. "Let's go to bed."

Brendon's chest moves up and down, nodding frantically. He slaps the switch off and lets the light from the television consume the room, slowly fluffing out his pillow and unfolding the blanket, trying to get comfortable on the couch.

Tyler's was doing the same, but furrows their eyebrows instead of laying down. "What are you doing?" They ask.

Brendon's overwhelmed. "What?"

"You're not sleeping on the couch." They state. "I thought you were sleeping with me?"

Brendon's eyes go wide, sitting up a little. "What? I-I thought that. . ."

Tyler shakes their head while standing, grabbing his pillow and blanket off the couch and putting them onto the air mattress beside theirs. They reach for his hand, "C'mon."

Brendon's eyes are lit up by the show playing on the screen while looking up at Tyler, hand shaking as theirs connect. They help him off the couch, and tentively, the two of them get on the air mattress instead. He hadn't planned on sleeping with them, not for a long time, so his body is in shock. He feels frozen.

Tyler seems to notice too, and moves them both to lay down.

He didn't expect to sleep with them in the first place, but what he really didn't expect is for them to press against his backside and wrap an arm around his waist.

Tyler breathes on the nape of his neck, and Brendon can just feel everything. He's not sure if his heart is beating because a pleasurable anxiety, or a clinical one.

"Have you ever heard the saying 'curiosity killed the cat?'" Tyler whispers.

Brendon's eyes are still wide. He nods. "Yeah."

Tyler only hums in response, hand gripping onto his shirt as they snuggle their nose between his shoulder blades. The affection is lucid, but the allure beneath is what makes Brendon uneasy. Their briefs hold very little to his imagination, especially when they're so close.

He touches the tips of their fingers to register the action. "Can we switch?" He questions sheepishly.

Tyler stays quiet for a moment. "You want to be the big spoon?"

Brendon nods again.

"Okay." They murmur, turning around and pulling Brendon's arm over their waist instead as he turns around as well.

This is better.

The two of them now settle, and Brendon's much more comfortable. He knows Tyler can feel how frantic his heart is beating against their back, but he also knows that's the least of his worries. He can't even remember the last time he's shared a bed with someone besides his mother, and that's the thought that keeps his head spinning. A reminder that he, Josh, and Tyler are going places.

He exhales deeply, eyes screwing shut.

Tyler seems to be having troubled thoughts as well, because they whisper, "I haven't slept without Josh in a really, really long time."

It's not surprising, but he also has the instinct to comfort them, so the first thing that comes from his mouth is his insecurities and nothing more. He's hoping that being vulnerable himself will ease them down.

"I haven't slept with anyone in a really, really long time." He admits quietly.

Tyler shuffles around in his hold until they face him. They're extremely close, and he supposed they notice too because they tuck their face into his chest, hand slowly running through his hair opposed to being nearly nose-to-nose.

Brendon's eyes close lightly as he hums, gravitating towards the touch.

He can feel Tyler smile against him. "You like that, don't you?"

Brendon's face flushes a bit. He only lets out a meek noise. They take that as an answer and run with it; playing with some of his hair, combing through it, and even massaging his scalp. It's something he'd forgotten he liked so much, but now that it's happening, he doesn't want it to stop.

"Josh loves it when you do stuff with his hair, too." They then mutter.

A mischievous tug pulls at Brendon's lips because of the mention. He doesn't know why he's being so overbearing tonight, but he is.

"What about you?" He asks, body jolting as he laughs unevenly.

Tyler quickly catches on to what he is hinting, and chuckles with him. They shake their head and tug gently at a strand of his hair. "You're funny," they utter, biting their lip. "My hair is growing out, though. I hate it. I need to shave it again."

Brendon almost frowns. "Why?"

Tyler sighs, the movements of their hand stopping. "I overanalyze everything. I'm sure it's not as big as a deal as I make it out to be." Brendon can feel their eyelashes flutter against the exposed skin of his chest; he shivers.

"What do you mean?"

He's met with silence, for a while. Maybe he asks for too much.

Finally though, Tyler speaks up. "It doesn't matter."

Brendon isn't satisfied. So what if he's being invasive? He supposed in some instances he has the right to, and this is definitely one of them. "You can tell me." He whispers. "I want to know."

Tyler pulls away, far enough until they're no longer pressed together, but are able to face one another without being uncomfortably close. Their lips are raw and their eyes are more wide than he's used to. It's a pretty sight.

"Do you really want to know?"

Brendon only rests an arm at their waist, giving his full attention.

Tyler nods, huffing. They look up at the ceiling before beginning. He'd assume it's because they have a hard time opening up, and they can use anything right now as a distraction. The thought makes his heart ache; a realization that Tyler has been opening up a lot to him recently, and for the most part, it has gone unnoticed.

Not now. He has no intent to let the significance pass.

"Appearance has a lot to do with the way people perceive you." They murmur, playing with the string of their hoodie. "And for me, that's something I struggle with a lot. The way people perceive me."

Soon enough, their eyes meet his again. Shadows falling into every crevice, but pores illuminated by the television. There's never a time where Tyler doesn't look good, and it's envious. Appealing. Sexy, even.

"It's the little things that bother me most, I'd say." They whisper, trailing a finger over Brendon's eyebrow. "My posture. My voice. My hair."

They examine his features, and he does the same.

"I have a constant need to claim certain apects of myself. I can do that with my appearance, because it's one of the only things I can control." Brendon feels bad for not fully understanding what that's supposed to mean, but luckily, Tyler continues. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I think a lot about people's opinions of me. Their impressions. I don't want their first thought to be that they're looking at a man, but I also don't want it to be of a woman. So what do I do then? I can only try my hardest to be neutral."

Brendon blinks a few times, stomach almost in a churn because he knows his first thought when seeing a picture of Tyler was that Josh is with another man.

But the more he looks back on it, he quickly realizes Josh did say husband, and that label is very misleading in this case.

"I do what I feel happy with. The way I present myself is how I'm comfortable, and I don't know if I ever get the message across, but I also know I'm probably looking for false hope in the first place." They swallow audibly. It's disheartening. "Shaving my head makes me feel in between, and I like that. I like that I'm able to look in the mirror and not be confused with the way I dress, or how short my hair is buzzed."

Brendon's hand tentatively moves to run through it, and Tyler allows it.

"If it's long, it's feminine. If it's at an average height, it's masculine. So, when it's shaved, isn't it neutral?" They wonder, but Brendon's not sure if he'll ever have the answer.

Tyler licks their top lip in thought. "See, I don't know, and that's why I need to claim it as that. Shaving my head is neutral. Shaving my head is non-binary."

Brendon thinks he gets it enough. "So why haven't you shaved it?"

Tyler's eyes scan his before looking away, back at the ceiling. "That's for another time."

He won't push. Definitely not now. Not when Tyler has exposed so much of themself in one day, because he knows for a fact it isn't simple to do that. Not for them.

"Okay."

It goes quiet.

Tyler glances at him cautiously before slowly pulling him close once more.

"I don't care what you say, I'm the big spoon." They state in a mere whisper. They press against his backside again, and Brendon sheepishly turns around so they can hold him. He's pliant. It's no secret. Though, because of Tyler being so embracing tonight, he doesn't mind this time.

He closes his eyes instead and welcomes the feeling of having someone this close, trying his hardest to ignore the tension he feels in his chest because of what little fabric lays beneath Tyler's waist. This is okay, he knows it is, and it's okay when he feels Tyler puff out a breath against his shoulder and rest one of their hands in his hair, delicately twisting strands around their finger.

Brendon barely gets out a hum, but Tyler hears it, and slowly connects their other hand with his, arm wrapped around his side.

"Goodnight." They utter, breath soft.

Brendon swallows thickly, grasp becoming tighter for a moment. "Goodnight."