Brendon wakes up almost exactly how he fell asleep, and it's relieving. The only thing that has really changed is the fact that Josh is practically on him opposed to being snuggled into his chest. There's blankets tangled in many limbs, and deep inhale and exhales coming from two people. The sun is lighting up the entire house and he's still not used to waking up like this, so his eyes are squinted when he opens them.

He examines the situation a bit more once his vision is clear.

Yeah, nevermind.

The position is completely different from how they fell asleep.

Josh is on top of him, and not only that, but Tyler's hanging off the mattress. Honestly, he's surprised they haven't fallen off completely. One of their legs is on the floor, and the only thing keeping them from tumbling to the ground is their arm tucked under Brendon.

He swallows thickly because of a dry mouth and turns back to look at Josh, whose hands are tangled in his shirt and has his face against Brendon's chest, legs straddling him.

He leans his head back against the pillow, pushing out air. "What the fuck," he croaks out.

It's then when Josh begins rustling. He groans quietly and lets go of his grip on Brendon's shirt, looking up. His hair is even more curly than usual, and the right side of his face is a bit red from how heavily he had it pressed against Brendon's chest.

They stare at one another, eyes barely open.

Josh blinks. "Good morning."

Brendon's Adam's apple bobs looking up at him. His freckles are prominent with the sun coming through like this and really, it's his first time noticing them.

"Good morning," he whispers.

They continue examining each other's  features with the smallest of grins, and Brendon hopes he looks as good as Josh does right now, but he knows that is most likely impossible.

They bask in this, only for a moment, because afterwards they both slowly turn to look at Tyler.

"Oh," Josh mutters.

"Yeah. . ."

Josh simply smiles. He carefully gets off Brendon and instead pulls Tyler up onto the mattress as slowly as he could so he wouldn't disturb them. Or, at least, that's what Brendon thought he was doing at first but then he watches Josh plant himself onto their stomach and lean forward to press small kisses to their neck, and jaw, and cheeks, and nose.

Tyler's brows twitch a few times, furrowing together while their eyes open, just barely. They catch a glimpse of Josh, a tug pulling at their lips.

They shake their head, letting out a breathy chuckle before turning around as well as they could with him on top of them.

"Wakey wakey," Josh mumbles. "Eggs and bakey?" He then asks.

"Make it yourself." Tyler replies, voice gruff.

"I want eggs and bacon, too." Brendon suddenly adds in. Seeing as he was watching, he couldn't help it.

Tyler's eyes open again, almost in shock like they've forgotten Brendon is here. They probably had. "I can if he gets off me."

Brendon and Tyler both look up at Josh, and he hums, arms crossed over his chest and boxers riding up. His sleeve of tattoos looks brighter this morning, and so do his eyes, and even his nails. "Only if you do something for me." He says, staring down at his partner.

Brendon is pretty sure all three of them know exactly what it is.

Still, Tyler bites their lip, lashes fluttering. "And what might that be?"

Josh doesn't say a word, he simply leans down where he can grip the couch cushions and tower over Tyler, kissing them.

At this point, being overwhelmed is an understatement for Brendon. At this point, it seems as though Tyler and Josh are not holding back much at all for his sake; for they're only doing things to each other of what he could have, but doesn't own enough courage or boldness to do just yet.

Josh pulls away and Tyler's almost snarling. "Go brush your teeth. Now."

"You're so mean." He grumbles.

"Am not. It's just gross."

Josh frowns. "I'm your husband. You're supposed to love me no matter what."

Even the word husband alone sets Brendon off. He hates it, and he just wants the situation to subside already, whether Tyler is ready or not. Of course, he'd never do anything to break their promise, but he can't stand the overall torment. Not even for himself, but Tyler's sake.

"I do love you no matter what. I'm just not going to kiss you when you have gonzo breath." They explain, lips plump and eyes hooded.

Josh sighs.

Nonetheless, he gets off their stomach and makes his way upstairs, dragging his feet just to make his false agony more dramatic.

Tyler watches him, rolling their eyes and sniggering.

Finally, they turn to Brendon. "He's such a baby in the morning." They whisper, features not as bright as Josh's, but their lightness is clear. From simple motions to careful breaths.

Brendon hums, not sure whether to agree or keep quiet.

"So are you," they then mutter.

His eyes widen a bit at that, brows pulling together in confusion from the statement. "What?"

Tyler smiles, so close to him his heart almost stops racing because he's just that starstruck. They run their tongue across their bottom lip afterwards, eyes travelling to the pillow. "Thought drooling was just something that rarely happens?" They joke, smirking at their own remark.

Brendon's cheeks become pink instantly; it's called for. He pulls his face away from the pillow and sees a large wet spot on it.

Then, he looks to Tyler, chest puffing in and out in almost a heave.

They just continue smirking, the slightest of a curl on their forehead and the smoothest color of tan on their skin.

Brendon huffs, planting his face into his hands. "This is so embarrassing." He groans, moans, whimpers-- whatever it may be, showing his humiliation.

Tyler shakes their head. They grab his hand and bring it to their lips, giving it a kiss. "It's cute."

Brendon sighs, carefully glancing to Tyler.

Their lips swell in the morning, making them look even more tantalizing, and their briefs hug every part of them beautifully. He hates it. He hates that Josh and Tyler are so tempting, because he doesn't have it in hismelf to do much about it. Even when they're so obviously giving him a go, legs spread and mouth open, he feels frozen.

Brendon rips his eyes off of them while sitting up, and quickly, a deep grumble falls from his lips.

Tyler sits up as well. "What's wrong?"

Brendon holds his tailbone. "My back," he mumbles.

They hum, running their fingers down his spine, which ultimately causes him to shiver a bit. "Want me to massage it?" They ask, already beginning to press on a knot in his shoulder.

He winces. "No, no-- uh. It's fine."

Brendon isn't even sure why he tries. He knows how Tyler is by now, and he knows they're going to do it whether he says yes or no. He's right, too, because they move behind him with their legs on either side of him and begin to slowly run their hands over his shirt.

"Just relax," They mutter.

Brendon exhales, he supposed a massage could be nice.

Tyler uses three fingers to rub circles around his shoulders, trying to find another knot, because surely he has many. And, easily, they do find one. They use the heel of their hand to press into it and instantly, Brendon is yelping and grabbing onto their knee for support so he can squeeze something besides his eyes shut.

"You work at a desk all day, don't you?" They wonder, probably to distract him.

Brendon nods, a strangled "Mhm," coming from him.

Tyler hums. "That's why it's so tense up here on your shoulders. It isn't just your back." They mumble, still digging into the tightness of it. "Why do you think your back hurts?"

Brendon loses a bit of his grip on their knee. "Sleeping on a couch every weekend is probably not the best," he whispers. "And I'm just getting old."

Tyler chuckles, shaking their head. "Sleeping on an airmatress all the time is most likely not doing you any good, either."

They stop, and so does Brendon. He understands what they're trying to say but isn't willing to continue speaking about it, and so Tyler begins with something else. "You need to lift your shirt." They state, pulling away and leaning against the couch.

Brendon's stomach doesn't like the remark; it begins to churn. "Uh. . ." he trails off.

Tyler's quick to notice the uncertainty. When don't they not. They grab one of the couch pillows and place it in front of him. "I just need your back." They mutter.

Brendon sighs, holding the pillow close to his stomach and slowly lifting his shirt with a trembling hand. He's afraid of skin, especially his own, and exposing it causes so many worries to flood his head.

Tyler runs their fingers through his hair momentarily, to reassure him. "Thank you."

They continue after that. Now, really getting into the knot and Brendon leans forward with a groan because the pain is frightening. Tyler is trying to soothe him while they do it, which only helps so much, because he can still feel the sharp stings on his backside, full-force.

It's then, too, while Brendon is a blubbering mess, that Josh comes back downstairs.

"What. . ." He utters, examining the situation.

Tyler stops for a second, and it finally feels like he can breathe.

"His back," they explain. "Can you get everything out so I can cook once I'm done?"

Josh easily nods, he and Tyler latching fingertips for a moment before he walks out of the livingroom and into the kitchen, doing just as he was told.

"This really fucking hurts." Brendon croaks out.

"Which means you really fucking need it." They reply, continuing.

Luckily, they move away from his shoulders and instead focus on his back, which really didn't ache nearly as much when they were soothing it. They applied pressure onto certain spots, and even popped places a few times. It wasn't until they were massaging his lower back, right above his tailbone, when Brendon's small moans were not of distress, but of pleasure. It felt good; the tension that had been there for months on end finally being relieved, and he can feel his body flush because of how embarrassing every noise he made is, but he couldn't help it.

"Lay down." Tyler suddenly says.

Brendon opens his eyes again. "Um, why?"

"Because it's hard to do anything like this. My arms are cramping up."

Really, it doesn't take much. Brendon would do a lot for them, even if he wasn't so sure whether he was completely comfortable or not doing this.

So, he timidly moves the pillow away and begins to lay down. Of course, of course, is all he can think, Tyler sits down onto his tailbone although their briefs-- still! Aren't protecting them from much, especially when it's just their whole lower half planted on his exposed skin.

Brendon's body is really hot, really flushed now.

He shoves his face into the mattress and emits and struggled grumble.

Tyler doesn't mind as much, no, of course not. This is probably fun for them. They start doing a tugging-pinch around his shoulder blades and neck, and Brendon curls his toes in discomfort because of the twinge.

"Fuck," he whimpers, fingers grasping at whatever they could.

Tyler only pinches the area a bit longer before soothing their hands down his back, softly rubbing more circles all around his back.

They hum to themselves when feeling nothing left. "All done." They say.

Brendon doesn't move.

"All done." They repeat.

Brendon pushes out such a heavy breath he might go light-headed. "I'm never going to get off this mattress again," he wallows, making a croaking noise.

Tyler scoffs. "You're so dramatic."

"Worst pain of my life," Brendon continues.

Tyler simply chuckles, slowly getting off of him and the mattress. They poke his head to grab his attention, and sheepishly, Brendon lifts his head to stare up at them. They're standing right in front of him. In their briefs. Shirt tight. Heartbeat increasing drastically.

Brendon swallows thickly, using all of his will not to be inappropriate.

"Up." Tyler mumbles, reaching their hands out.

Brendon blinks.

"Don't make me repeat it," they warn, and he really doesn't know what that means but he's not sure he wants to, and so he happily grabs ahold of their hands and allows them to help him off the air mattress.

Brendon stands up haphazardly, back nearly feeling like jelly.

"I'll make real bacon this time." Tyler comments before leaving to the kitchen.

Brendon smiles at that. He can't help it.

He picks up his glasses from off the couch and slips them on, looking around. There's still so many things to notice-- like the fact that there's also a kennel in the livingroom for Jim, and countless stacks of paper on the coffee table, which he assumes is all Tyler. He wonders if there's anything they're specifically proud of that they'd show him soon.

He hopes so.

Brendon shakes his head to dismiss these thoughts and heads to the bathroom.

Looking in the mirror, his hair is a mess, and when he lifts his shirt, his entire backside is flushed because of Tyler's stern fingers against him. It's almost like a reminder, in a way. Tyler on him, close to him, touching him, breathing on him-- and he doesn't know why this isn't overwhelming him as much as it usually would, but he doesn't mind. No, not at all.

He uses the restroom, washing his hands, and drying them on a random towel hung up before making his way to the kitchen.

Josh is patting Jim's head while he eats, and Tyler's beginning to make the bacon. He feels solace in the setting, because it's something he's woken up to more than once and really, he'd love to do it again and again.

The flowers from their first ever dinner are completely dead, yet they still have them on the table even with the petals fallen everywhere.

This is a safe place, he knows.

"Brendon, is there any specific food you want us to buy for the house for when we're gone?" Tyler asks at the stove, attention going nowhere.

For some reason, Brendon's eyes widen in shock. It's soon. Really soon. "Wait, what day are you guys leaving again?"

Tyler has to speak a bit louder than usual due to the bacon sizzling and popping. "Friday."

Friday.

Four more days? It's going by far too fast, he thinks.

"Uh, and how long?" Brendon continues, sitting down at the counter.

"Probably until Sunday or Monday." They say, eyes still glued to the stove. Maybe they're scared of looking anywhere else right now. Brendon knows there's so much more. "Still not sure, but we'll tell you when we're on our way."

"Okay," Brendon murmurs.

He supposed Tyler forgot what they first asked, because they don't bring it up again. Or maybe they just know by now Brendon eats very little in general, and whatever they already have here is enough for him.

Now, Josh is back to Tyler's side like he always seems to do in the kitchen, helping make the eggs to speed up the process. And Brendon watches. That's all. He watches everything and blinks very little; absolutely entranced, but that's no longer a surprise. None of them talk, just listening to the bacon sizzle and eggs fry. It's nice. Sun coming through the curtains, whispers of freckles against skin, and lashes fluttering over cheekbones.

In reality, Brendon has never felt anything more domestic.

He knows, too, when Josh and Tyler stare at one another while he cracks an egg with one hand. They both easily fall into a fit of breathy laughs, hair curling on their foreheads and Tyler still has yet to brush their teeth.

Brendon smiles.

It isn't long before food is done, and for once they don't have coffee, but orange juice.

Josh must have noticed his confusion, because he says, "We ran out." While pouring the juice into a cup for him.

Brendon hums, taking a big gulp of the drink.

The three of them are finally sat together at the table, Tyler and Josh with plenty of eggs and bacon on their plates while Tyler has given him a smaller portion yet again. He's thankful, because really, they're taking into account everything, even simple details like how much he was able to get down without forcing himself into nausea.

"There's more if you want some," They say, starting to eat.

Brendon simply nods. This will definitely be enough.

Jim finishes his food by then and is quick to be at Brendon's side, looking up at him with wide pleading eyes. He takes a bite of his bacon, staring right back at the dog just as sincerely. This is his doing-- Jim begging.

No one mentions it, and he makes sure not to give him any food this time no matter how much Jim pulls at his heartstrings.

Instead, Tyler speaks up. "You should let me drive you to work."

Brendon lifts his head, brows pulling together. "What?"

"I'll take you to work, and pick you up. Then I could cook you something before you head home."

Brendon shrinks in his seat a bit. "You know it's okay. . . Not to. . ." His lips go crooked, he doesn't know how to word any of this. "It's okay not to always do everything. I'm-- I can--" he huffs a little. "You know. . ."

Josh chuckles while chewing, shaking his head. "Tyler's very proactive. They never leave shit alone."

Tyler doesn't find it as humorous. "I just need stuff to do at all times." They mutter.

Brendon understands. God, he understands. So maybe he's bias, and maybe he'll fall into submission once again to please another. He seems to do that a lot, but it's hard not to with someone you care for.

"Yeah, you should take me to work." He states, meek.

Tyler is content. Good.

Brendon can't help but drift off into his thoughts. It wasn't until now that he realizes Tyler really does need to keep control over everything, and keep themself busy. Cooking, writing, pleasing he and Josh's needs. They do anything and everything just because they can-- because they need to. Maybe it's their only distraction, and from what? Well, that's where he's lost.

It's almost difficult because of how dominant their personality is, while his being so diffident. They like to do as much as they could, which is overbearing sometimes, considering Brendon has a hard time knowing if someone is simply helping him, or belittling him.

With Tyler, it isn't any better.

This is something he's beginning to struggle with. Possibly, he needs to stop being so compliant and speak up about it.

That's just not who he is, though, and he knows that.

For now, it'll stay to himself. He can't beat himself up over flaws of someone else, and even then, how is he even sure whether or not they really are flaws?

His opinion means nothing. It's evident.

***

Brendon finishes buttoning his shirt and comes out of the bathroom, hair done as well as he can without any product, and teeth being brushed with his finger and some toothpaste.

Tyler's sitting on the couch when he's back in the livingroom, now wearing dark gray slacks and a white turtle neck, but, they're also wearing a oversized striped button up over that. It surprisingly looks good, almost too good, and Brendon starts to question whether or not he's losing his mind or Tyler really does have a good fashion sense. Their striped button up is black and white, and they don't even button the top, just the middle to the bottom.

"Get your shoes on so we can go." They say when he walks in.

Brendon looks at the time on his phone. "I don't have to be there for another forty-five minutes. . .?"

Tyler hums. "Just trust me."

He has no idea what that's supposed to mean, but he does trust them, so he does get his dress shoes out from his bag and he does begin putting them on.

Jim is in the backyard once again so he wouldn't get any hair on Brendon's clothes, which means he most likely wouldn't see him before leaving which is a little upsetting, but he knows he'll see him later today considering Tyler would be picking him up and taking him here.

"I'm ready," Brendon stands up from the couch, messing with a cuff on his sleeve.

Tyler nods, momentarily walking to the staircase and shouting for Josh, and it's the first time Brendon has ever heard them raise their voice. Ultimately, his eyes grow wide out of shock, because he's so used to them staying quiet. Maybe he's overreacting, but Tyler seems a bit surprised by themself too; he watches them clear their throat and look downwards.

Quickly, Josh comes down the stairs with a small smile. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah," they mutter, looking up at him since he's standing on one of the steps.

Josh leans down to kiss them, and when he pulls away, he brushes the small curl off their forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too." They respond.

Josh walks over to Brendon and hugs him tightly. "See you later. Have a good day." He's in a good mood, and Brendon really doesn't know how he's such a morning person. Morning's are just the worst, but so is the daytime. He's not sure. It might just be the fact that he has a negative insight on everything.

"I'll try." Brendon murmurs into his shoulder. "See you soon."

Josh pulls away after that and begins walking back up the stairs, but not before kissing Tyler one last time. "Bye," he says, waving at the two of them while they make their way out the door.

As soon as Tyler closes it, Brendon huffs. "So what are we doing?"

They chuckle, spinning the keys around their finger. "You're impatient."

"Just mildly curious." He replies.

Tyler only unlocks the car and gets in, so Brendon follows with a deep exhale. Once they're both buckled and Tyler starts the car, they begin playing the radio softly enough for the both of them to hear. Top alternative, it seems to be. Good enough.

"Josh and I told each other we wouldn't be spending any more money before the wedding because the hotel is going to cost enough as it is, but I really want coffee." They explain, pulling out of the driveway.

Brendon snickers. Of course that's what it is.

"Sounds good to me." He says.

***

Roscoe's isn't very full, which Brendon is thankful for. He and Tyler end up holding hands on their way in, their dark purple and black nails playing well off of one another, and he's nearly embarrased, but he knows he shouldn't be.

It'll be fine. Just as long and Tyler squeezes his hand back.

They do.

"Do you need me to order for you today?" Tyler asks once they're in line.

Brendon swallows. "I've got it."

They nod, looking up at the menu to figure out what they'd like themself. Brendon already has it figured out, so they wait in silence for the person in front of them to finish. Once they're done and walk away, the cashier is instantly smiling.

"Hey, Tyler." She says, and the corner of their lips turn upwards in response. "What would you like?"

"Can I get a tall cappuccino," They say.

The cashier nods, and that's when Brendon realizes it's the same one as before. Lyndsey. He wonders how they know each other, and now it's definitely something he'll ask only because he's curious. He's never really heard about Tyler and Josh's friends.

"And you?" She questions Brendon.

"Oh, uh," He glances at the menu momentarily. "A tall caramel macchiato, please."

She taps a few things on the screen in front of her. "Will that be it?"

"Yes." Tyler mumbles.

"That'll be seven-eighty." She states, still smiling.

Tyler lets go of Brendon's hand and begins pulling out their wallet, but he is quick to stop them. "I've got it." He utters, pulling out his wallet instead, giving Lyndsey a ten. Once she hands him back the change, he and Tyler find somewhere to sit, and that somewhere also happens to be the same place they sat when first meeting.

"Your friend?" Brendon asks.

Tyler shakes their head, grabbing his hand because they can. "No. I just come here so often that they've began to know me." Brendon chuckles, and Tyler rests their chin on the table, playing with his fingers. "Even pronouns." They mutter.

Now, Brendon is a bit surprised. Should he be?

"Really? That's-that's awesome," he gets out.

Tyler shrugs, nodding. "They very actively support LGBT+ rights, so really, it wouldn't make sense for them not to. The whole place is supposed to be safe space." They explain.

Brendon blinks. "I didn't even know that."

They shrug again. "They don't make it very blatant, but I've gone here for so long that I've just learned." Their eyelashes look especially long from this angle, and the way they stare up at him only adds to that. "The corporation even sponsors aspects of parades and rallies the community holds."

Brendon sucks on his bottom lip. "That's good."

Tyler agrees. "It's nice." They whisper. "I suppose that's why I come here so often."

Brendon's hand trembles in just the slightest as he connects their hands completely together. He just wanted to hold theirs, reassure them, and now he can do it if he please, so why wouldn't he?

"How do they know pronouns?" He wonders, simply eager to know.

Tyler's lips go crooked. "Catching on? I'm actually not sure." They bite their lip momentarily. "I think it's because of Josh saying things about me in front of the workers; they want this, or, they'd like that. Because it's not like the employees are going to be using pronouns all the time, or really ever, but when they do, they're cautious. They know by now. Have been doing it for years." They lift their head back up and sit straight.

Brendon bites his cheek, nodding. "Tyler?"

They look at him, and it's his chance to take them all in. Every part of them.

Their stubble is getting bad and he knows that's definitely something they're not going to keep around for long, and there's bags beneath their eyes. He would say that they overwork themself, that they need to rest more; take things slowly opposed to tackling everything on in one go.

Brendon focuses on their hand. "Do you and Josh have like. . ." He pauses for a moment. "Friends?"

He's aware of how harsh it sounds, but Tyler seems amused. Their eyes squint and the corner of their mouth lifts, nodding along to what he said.

"We do, yeah." They mumble. "They all live out of town though, so we don't see them very often. We met them in college. They're really the only people we talk to." They stop, pondering. "Well, the only people I talk to."

Brendon would say Tyler's very introverted. This isn't surprising.

"Josh has other friends?" He asks.

Tyler hums. "Josh is a social butterfly. He can become friends with anyone."

Brendon easily agrees.

He hesitates a bit before speaking up again. Unsure, really. "What about you?"

At that, they rub their thumb over his hand, looking out the window. "I'm just. . . Odd." They utter, shaking their head. "I'd like to have casual friends, but also I would not. At all. I lack trust in people; it's really hard to gain, and the thing that differs between that and the friends I do have is the fact that I've known them for years. And even then, I met them all through Josh. Otherwise, I'd probably have none."

Brendon frowns.

Tyler notices and shrugs. "I wouldn't say that's such a bad thing. I trust myself, and sometimes that's all I need. I don't feel lonely. In fact, it's kind of validating."

Brendon is overwhelmed with information. He blinks. "Have I ever told you how weird you are sometimes?"

Tyler smiles. "Not yet."

Brendon's heart swells for a reason he's unaware of. "You're weird." He says. Then, "I like it."

They smile even wider, biting their lip afterwards. "I thought so."

He doesn't have time to wonder what that means because their name is being called to the front. They pull their hand away from his and stand, walking over to the counter to collect the drinks. Once back at the table, they hand Brendon his. "Come on, let's go."

He nearly forgot he has to go to work. It's upsetting.

He allows Tyler to help him up and soon enough, the two of them are making their way out the shop and back to the car.

***

It doesn't take very long for them to make it to the building, and as soon as Tyler stops in the front, Brendon is sighing for so many reasons.

He wants this goodbye to be quick in fear of someone seeing them, because surely if it was a person who knew about Brendon being with Josh, they would be a little questionable seeing him with anyone else, and that's what worries him most.

At the thought, he squeezes Tyler's hand and opens the car door. "Bye," he mutters, stepping out.

"Text me when I need to come and get you." They say, one hand on the steering wheel while the other stays in the position it was when they were holding his hand.

"Okay." Brendon's eyes cast downwards, anxiety bubbling in his stomach because he can't find it in himself to look at them anymore. He can't find it in himself to act like they have more of a connection than friends would have, maybe. "Bye." He repeats. Then, he thinks about the drink in hand and says, "And thank you for Roscoe's."

"Thank you." Tyler replies; he supposed it was because he bought it. "Goodbye."

Brendon catches their eyes one last time before nodding and closing the car door, turning away. He begins walking up to the building despite not yet hearing Tyler drive off, trying his hardest to ignore the unpleasant churning in his stomach, because he's positive he's making a big deal out of nothing. That's Brendon. Constantly overthinking every situation when he doesn't need to, it's just a natural reaction for him.

Luckily, today, it's just himself in the elevator.

As soon as the doors close before him and he's enclosed in the small space, he pressed the palm of his free hand against his face and breathes.

"God dammit," he groans.

He would say he's not in the right state of mind to work for eight hours today, but he'd also say that any day. It seems like Brendon is never ready to do basic human tasks anymore, and wonders why. He's happier now, isn't he? More comfortable now, right? The thing is, it's true, he is, but only with Tyler and Josh. It's terrifying to think about how dependent he has become on them, and it's not good either, especially when being away from them starts to cause more anxiety than he already has.

Or is that not it? Maybe he's only anxious now because he's scared of his peers being invasive on his personal life. It's not their business except his own, and even then, he's not certain about any of it.

Brendon needs to be able to be independent whilst being in a relationship, he supposes is the idea.

He struggles with that, and it's obvious.

The elevator doors open again. He walks out with his head held low, heart moving slow.

He passes by Luke's cubicle to reach his own, and instead saying hello like he might have, Luke simply glances at him before tending back to his computer. It's fine, really, Brendon would rather keep to himself right now anyways.

He sets his caramel macchiato down onto the desk, peering around the room in paranoia of Debby being near, because that's still a constant fear of his; the confrontation of another conversation with her. It's sad, but once he doesn't see anything for his mind to run, he sits down onto his office chair with a sigh.

He'll be fine, he knows. He always is.

***

Sometimes, Brendon has a really hard time shutting his mind off. For today, he has been able to do it successfully enough, at least enough for him to make it to lunch without anything drastic happening, and for that, he's thankful.

He sits at the table the two of them always are at and waits, hoping that Luke had brought another Cup O' Noodle for him because he completely forgot about lunch, and he isn't sure he's comfortable asking Tyler or Josh if he could bring something of theirs to eat for lunch. Brendon really doesn't know.

Honestly, thinking about it, Tyler would probably be more than happy to pack him a lunch.

Seems like too much to ask, though.

After a few minutes of waiting patiently, Luke sits down with two cups of noodles, and sets one in front of him, along with a plastic fork.

Brendon smiles. "Thank you."

Luke nods, but says nothing, still.

Really, it's not like himself, and that's when Brendon begins to worry a little. Luke is always one to start a conversation and somehow keep it going, so what's the difference now? Maybe he's having a bad day, it's more likely than not. Maybe something is happening between him and his girlfriend.

Maybe he's just tired.

Brendon tries not to dwell on it too hard, because things happen. He simply begins eating, and keeps to himself. He doesn't mind the silence. In a way, it's comforting they can now do this with each other.

Brendon twitches when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He slowly pulls it out, seeing that it's a message from Josh.

Jim hopes you're having a good day. So does Josh, but that's not as important.

Instantly, Brendon is smiling wide. His heart flutters at the photo, his heart flutters at the message. It's overwhelming to know that for once, there's people thinking about his well-being, making sure he's okay throughout the day, sending reminders. At this moment, he feels so unbelievably cared for.

Brendon hopes Jim is having a good day too, and Josh. Especially Josh.

The reply is quick.

That makes Josh very happy.

Josh can't wait to give Brendon a tight hug after work. He kinda misses him.

Brendon also kind of can't get rid of the smile on his face. This is exactly what he needs right now; subtle reassurance. Whether he knew or not, Josh is making every worry go away.

Good because Brendon definitely misses him. A lot.

Yeah, Josh was lying. He misses you a lot too. Not just kinda.

Brendon bites his lip to refrain himself from smiling any more; he probably looks odd with such a big grin, staring at his phone.

As much as I want to talk to you, I have to get going. I have to meetup with my family for lunch, but I just wanted to tell you I hope you're doing well. I do miss you.

No more third-person?

Brendon really didn't want the conversation to end, is what he's actually trying to say.

Josh has to go. Just wanted to check in on Brendon.

**Jim.

Brendon chuckles to himself. Tyler was right, Josh is a dork, but he likes it a lot.

Brendon appreciates it, Josh.

**Jim.

Josh doesn't respond after that, and so he slips his phone back into his pocket and continues eating like he didn't just blush like a teenager from some texts sent his way. Still, Luke has yet to say a word, and he wonders if would at all. Brendon's willing to give him time, he just hopes he's okay.

It's not until then when Luke finally looks up from the spot he was staring at on the table and connects eyes with Brendon. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are squinted, which easily makes his stomach churn. Luke looks upset at him. What did he do?

"Brendon, who was that guy you were with at Roscoe's this morning." It's not a question, he's demanding for the answer, and Brendon's entire being is demanding for an escape. In just seconds, he whole body flushes in shame, in panic, in uneasiness. In seconds, every sense of him that was once calm and collected is out the door, because now all he can think about is how he can hold off the anxiety chewing away at him.

How? Why? When? No. Brendon's trembling frantically.

He drops the fork and slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes widening, tears threatening.

He shakes his head. This is not going to happen right now. Not with everyone else around them, at work, where people can listen in and interpret the situation their own ways. The wrong ways, he's sure.

"I'm going to be completely honest with you because--" He exhales heedfully. "Because it's a fucking shitty thing to do, Brendon. What about Josh? I saw you holding that other guy's hand, you-you-- you were all up on each other! It's absolutely disgusting. How can you do that?" Luke runs his fingers through his hair, just plain out furious for the unknown.

Often times, Brendon wished he could disappear, but now is the time he wished he never existed.

He isn't ready for any of this. He isn't ready for a repeat with Debby. Luke is being so loud that everyone is looking, everyone is listening, everyone in that room now thinks Brendon has done something that appalling.

**Trigger warning: not exactly a panic attack yet, but very self-deprecating thoughts.**

He pulls his hand away from his mouth; he can feel the tears at his waterline.

Brendon really had hope everything would be okay between them. Funny. He isn't sure why he tries. He isn't sure why he ever could believe he can have something good, because nothing works out in his favor. Maybe he asks for too much, but all it seems to be is him receiving very little.

"I don't want to talk about it right now." He whispers, eyes glued to the table.

Luke shakes his head, laughing bitterly. "Of course."

Brendon nearly forgets to blink. He can't process the situation. This can't be happening. He has built up so much courage in hopes of doing well, possibly explaining everything to Luke soon, but of course nothing can ever just fucking rest. Of course, of course, of course.

Brendon squeezes his eyes together. Body frozen. He doesn't want to move.

"If you're so ashamed of what you're doing, then why do you do it?" Luke spits; he's never sounded this cruel.

Brendon begins to stand, chest moving up and down hastily. He glances to everyone in the room, who are looking right back at him. He can't do this. He can't even process what's happening, he just feels numb, but he also feels everything all at once.

He looks back to Luke.

His fists are clenching at his sides, and  he's still holding tears back. He's not strong. He never is.

Brendon is so unbelievably frustrated and hurt that his thought process is muddled, and the horrid part of it all is the only response he can get out is, "You don't know shit." Before walking out of the breakroom in a rush.

He can't believe it came from his mouth, he can't believe any aspect of the situation. Brendon doesn't have the decency to worry right now how that one remark may affect their friendship, because Luke said much worse, but Luke also is oblivious to entirety of it.

Brendon doesn't go back to his cubicle, no. He marches straight to his boss's office, heart in his throat and mind in the clouds. Or maybe Hell.

He can't do this.

He sees someone else in his office so he waits, pacing back and forth and pulling at his hair to hold himself back from completely falling apart.

There's so many reasons to break right now: Luke verbally attacking him, Luke assuming such a horrible thing, Luke handling the situation out of anger opposed to sincerity. Even the fact that he referred to Tyler as a man is setting him off, and it's not even about himself anymore.

Brendon's boss sees him, and he sees the tremendous amount of panic he's in. He continues talking to the person in front of him, but it's obvious he's trying to wrap it up.

He continues pacing, deciding on what he needs to say. Surely he can't leave work because the simplicity of having a panic attack-- although that's definitely the outcome of this situation-- so he has to make up something. The thought only causes the churning in his stomach worsen, yet he has to. It's the only option.

Brendon is startled when the door opens. Out comes someone he isn't very familiar with, and there is his boss as well. Once the person walks away, he says, "Come in."

Brendon nods, fiddling with his fingers and sitting down at the chair in front of Boss's desk.

It's embarrassing how weak he is.

Mr.Hall sits in his own seat, leaning back a bit to look at Brendon; watch his lip tremble and chest heave, watch his anxiety swallow him whole.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

Brendon breathes heavily, shaking his head. "It's-it's-it's a family emergency," Is the only thing he can get out. Hopefully, it's enough. "I just-- would I be able to leave? It's really bad and I'm not sure I'd--" he gulps. "I'd be able to get anything done here."

His boss examines the state he's in, glasses thick, hair slick, and beard grown. He's an intimidating man, and Brendon would like to get out of here as quickly as possible.

"Is it really that bad?" He wonders.

Brendon nearly starts crying there, the guilt of lying and the panic of Luke's words are bad. Horrible.

"Yes." He whispers, eyes casting downwards.

Mr.Hall hums. "It's okay, you can leave." He says, and Brendon sighs in relief, nodding along as he begins to stand. "But Brendon?"

His vision is blurry from the tears he is holding back. "Yes?"

"I know it's not always in your control, but really, you've been leaving a lot lately. I'd appreciate it for you to do your job." He says it calmly, but it has enough of a bite for Brendon to frown. "There's a chance of you working overtime."

Brendon tries to swallow the lump in his throat, but it doesn't work. "Okay," he croaks out.

"Okay." His boss repeats. "I hope everything is alright."

It's not.

"Thank you." Brendon mutters, finally making his way out the door.

He rushes straight to his cubicle and finishes up whatever he had before shutting everything down and leaving to the elevator. So many people are looking at him, and this time a lot dirtier than when this happened with Debby. He's ashamed of himself for something he didn't do, but he supposed what he's most shameful for is the fact that he didn't stand up for himself. In a way, it's his fault. Now Luke and everyone else is under the impression he's cheating on the person he's with because he didn't deny it. He sat there and took it, and his response wasn't any better.

As soon as he's in the elevator, he's pulling out his phone and going to Tyler's contact. He presses the call button, as well as the button in the elevator for the first floor.

It rings a few times before Tyler answers. "Brendon?"

The doors close; he's as safe as he can get right now.

"Tyler. . . I-I need you to come and get me." Finally, the tears start to fall. He whimpers. "Please."

"What's wrong?" They ask.

Brendon shakes his head despite them not being able to see. He wipes away the fallen tears. "Please just come and-and get me. I can't be here any longer."

There's some shuffling over the line. "I'll be right there, okay?"

Brendon croaks out a sound of agreement, the panic embedding in his chest. This is horrible. What has he done?

"Breathe for me." Tyler says. "I'll be right there." They repeat.

"Okay," Brendon whispers, breath hiccuping.

He ends the call there, walking out of the elevator once the doors open. His feet move fast to make it outside; he didn't want anyone to see him like this. He's so full of humiliation his body aches.

Brendon sits down on one of the few benches outside of the building, the cold air nipping at his skin in the worst way and he pulls a knee to his chest to hopefully build up some warmth, and comfort.

He can't help but cry, and at this point it's not because of a certain thing, he's just crying. Crying about everything and nothing all at once, trying to block out life before him, and Hell beneath him.

It happens more often than not.

***

Tyler's there in less than fifteen minutes, and instantly Brendon is walking to the car and getting in. He shivers despite coming in contact with the warmth inside the vehicle, and Tyler quickly notices his raw features, as well as every tear running down his cheek.

"Baby. . ." They whisper, brows pulled together.

Brendon's thoughts aren't clear and he can't even process the pet name correctly, he only shakes his head, leaning into the heater. "Please, let's go."

Tyler doesn't say anything. They look at him one last time to make sure he'd be alright-- truth is, he won't-- and nod, starting to drive away from the building.

***

**Trigger warning: panic attack and self-destruction. Further down, it mentions side effects of medication, such as depression and suicidal thoughts. Please, be careful.**

As soon as he and Tyler make it inside the house, he falls to the ground. He doesn't know why, it's simply what happens. Both knees are to his chest, and his spine is pressed against the back of couch, hands cupping his face as he sobs.

What has he done? What is he doing?

Brendon assumes this is why he has always been alone. He can never maintain a relationship even if he tried his hardest. Even if that's all his life consisted of, he can't do it. He can't do anything.

"Brendon," Tyler whispers, sitting down in front of him.

He shakes his head.

He doesn't want to look at them. He's embarrassed beyond belief. He feels horrible that he's putting them through this again, he feels horrible that they feel obligated to help him only because he has a difficult time controlling himself.

This might be one of those instances where they decide this relationship isn't going to work out, and that it should end. Brendon is too much to handle, he's too much in general. He's never happy and he can't handle a thing.

"You don't have to look at me, just listen, okay?"

Brendon hates this.

He hates everything.

In hopes of overcoming fear, he nods, whimpering.

Tyler sits with their legs on either side of him, like they're trying to protect him from something dispite the only criminal being his mind. He wished they would stop, he doesn't want this, for once he'd like to be alone and go through this by himself. He wants to make his own decisions opposed to letting someone else choose for him.

Maybe he can deal with being belittled sometimes, but right now, it's overbearing.

Tyler probably isn't trying to make him feel this way, yet when they insist to always have control whilst he's so vulnerable, there isn't very many other options.

"Can I see your hand?" They ask.

Brendon wants to say no, because they're sticky with tears and he doesn't want to give in to their power. He wants to say no because this might just be something he needs to cry out. He wants to say no because it's the only way he is able to hide right now.

But, with eagerness to please so Tyler feels righteous, he complies.

They grab his hand and carefully bring it to their chest. His palm and fingertips can feel the calm beat of their heart, much different than his frantic one.

"Follow me." Tyler whispers.

Brendon wants to do nothing but scream.

He swallows thickly and tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling, trying his hardest to even out his breathing patterns. His breath hiccups and his chest stings. He's aggravated that he's let everyone overpower him today, whether or not they were-- and are-- doing it out of kindness. He can speak up for himself, and he needs to, he wants to, he can be his own person instead of having everyone he knows dominate the situation.

He can do it.

Brendon tugs at his tie; it's too tight against his throat.

Tyler lets go of his hand and reaches to loosen it for him, but Brendon pulls away in a sharp motion.

They purse their lips together. "You should change out of these clothes, they're not comfortable." They mutter before reaching to try and loosen his tie once more.

Brendon pulls his hand off their chest and pushes Tyler's away. "Please stop." He groans, more tears rolling down his cheeks as he squeezes his eyes together. "I don't-- I don't need you to fucking do everything for me, so stop. Just-ju-just stop."

There's silence between them, other than the sniffling coming from him.

Maybe now wasn't the time to bring it up, and that was probably not the way to go about it, but he can't handle it right now. He needs Tyler off of him, he needs to do this on his own. They can't baby him. No. He's a grown man.

Tyler is quiet, and now Brendon starts to worry.

He slowly looks at them for the first time. Their jaw is clenched, eyes blinking.

Why does he ruin everything?

Tyler exhales. "You're right."

Brendon hits himself in the head at that, one time with a fist but then with the palm of his hand over and over again, crying even harder than before. He's such an idiot, everything is his fault. Why is he so complicated? Why can't he let himself be happy?

Tyler's eyes widen at the sight, shakily pulling his hand away from himself. "What-what are you doing?"

Brendon sobs into his knees. What is he doing?

At this point, he's humiliating himself. In front of a person he would despise to see any of this happen; they're witnessing it first-hand, how destructive he can be because self-hatred is too overwhelming. Or because he's just immature and can't handle anything.

"I'm-I'm sorry. No, no, no, no." Brendon heaves, panting against his knees. "I'm sorry, Tyler. Sorry. Please, nevermind." Begging although they never seemed upset by his remark.

Tyler moves closer to him, close enough for them to slowly wrap their arms around his neck and pull him to their chest. Brendon does it willingly. He was lying to himself. He needs this right now, he can't do a thing on his own even if he tried.

They kiss his head, fingers combing through his hair.

"Don't do that yourself." They whisper.

Brendon grips the sleeve of their turtleneck, getting tears all over it. His ear is pressed where he's able to hear their heartbeat, feel their heartbeat. He lied to himself. He lied. This is what he needs.

"I'm sorry," he says again, sniffling.

Tyler runs their fingers through his hair, shaking their head. "You know I don't mean to belittle you. You tell me when you need to be alone, you tell me when you need to do things on your own, okay?" They ask. "I'm just trying to help, and I know I can be overbearing, but you need to say something. It's okay. I understand."

Brendon nods, slowly moving to sit in their lap.

"Is this okay?" They wonder, quietly.

He nods again, digging his nose into the warmth of their neck. "Tyler?"

"Yes?"

Brendon closes his eyes, breathing against them. His body trembles in their lap, and his hands tighten on their sleeves. He doesn't know what he wants anymore, but for now, this is okay. Yeah.

"Everyone at my work thinks I'm--" He inhales sharply. "Thinks-thinks I'm cheating on Josh now be-be-because. . . Because someone saw us together at Roscoe's and he--" Shaky breath. "He yelled at me about it in front of everyone in the breakroom. Everyone thinks I fucking--"

Tyler shushes him, cradling his head.

"I didn't even say anything. I just. . . I just sat there and took it." A heavy tear smears onto Tyler's jaw. "Everyone was looking and I couldn't do shit. I felt horrible-- I-I-I feel horrible. Everyone thinks I'm cheating. I'm not cheating."

"People know that you're with Josh?" They wonder.

Brendon is pretty sure neither of them will bring up the fact that nobody knows about him being with Tyler as well, because they've discussed it already. It's easier this way.

Or is it?

"Only-only a few people. Just the people I've gotten close to. . ."

Tyler hums. "And one of those people happened to see us together?"

Brendon whimpers at that. "Yes."

Tyler pulls away. Instead of holding around Brendon's neck, they hold his shoulders, staring at him. "If he is your friend, you should tell him. Not at work, but somewhere more private. If he is your friend, he'll understand, just like Carina did."

Brendon bites his lip. "I know. I-I was going to, soon, but then. . ."

Tyler brushes his hair out of his face, using their thumbs to wipe away his tears. For the most part, they've stopped coming.

"I encourage you to tell him so you both can move past this, and hopefully that can help." They say.

Brendon leans into their touch, brows naturally furrowed. "I will."

Tyler nods.

That suddenly reminds him of something else, though, especially when he can feel how cold Tyler's wedding ring is against his cheek. "Tyler, when are you going to tell Josh?"

They pull their hand away from him to fiddle with their ring. "Soon."

He really hopes they mean it. There's only so much more reassurance he can take from them before it's starts becoming increasingly more hypocritical every time. He'd say they both deserve to be happy, and all it takes is the truth.

Brendon swallows the harshness in his throat. "Okay."

Tyler leans forward to kiss his knee afterwards, once, twice, three times. They dig their nose into his slacks and rest against it, looking up at Brendon with their lashes long as usual. "Feeling better?"

Brendon huffs. "Yeah."

"Want me to get you some water?" They ask.

"Okay." Brendon whispers. "I'll go change, too."

Tyler nods, carefully standing up from the floor and reaching their hand out to help Brendon as well. He accepts it, and once they're both standing, Tyler goes to the kitchen while he gathers the clothes he was wearing prior and heads to the bathroom.

Looking at the mirror is never very postive. His face is flushed red and his lips and eyes are swollen.

At this point, Tyler and Josh have seen him so low there's no way of ever coming back up.

Brendon undresses as quickly as possible and gets his more comfortable clothes on as fast as he could. He doesn't like to see himself naked, and really, he tries to avoid nudity at all costs.

He comes out of the bathroom after rubbing some cold water on his face, packing his work clothes back into his bag and sitting down at the corner of the couch, Tyler soon sitting beside him. They hand him a glass of water, slowly laying down where they can rest their head in his lap, looking up at him.

Brendon's heart still beats a little fast, but he's okay.

"Brendon, can I ask you something?"

He's not sure where this will go, yet he can't bring himself to worry this time. "Yeah," he replies.

Tyler's Adam's apple bobs. They look so good from this angle.

"Have you ever tried medication to help with your anxiety disorder?" They wonder, and whether or not it was them trying to say you have a problem, this is bad or simply questionable for obvious reasons, he doesn't know.

Brendon takes a sip of the water, biting his cheek. "Yeah, I have. But it didn't help."

Tyler waits for more, they always do.

He sighs. "The dosage they first put me on didn't do anything, and so they raised it, and it made everything worse. Not only my anxiety, but my-my, uh, depression, and for some reason instead of deciding that wasn't a red flag, they raised it again."

Tyler seems to understand where this is going; they hold his hand and squeeze.

Brendon takes a long drink of the water. "The feeling of isolation was really bad, and it didn't help that this was the time my mom was diagnosed and my family was drifting apart. I really was alone, and I felt it, too."

He can see how pale Tyler's face is becoming.

"By that you mean. . ." They trail off.

Brendon stares at nothing. "Yeah."

Tyler's brows pull together, eyes scanning his face in worry.

"I stayed with my mom a lot during that time. She was all I had, and really, I don't know what I would have done without her. It was bad." He gulps, he doesn't know why he's being so open about this. Or maybe he does. "I still struggle a lot with a sense of purpose, but these last few months, I've been feeling a lot better about it."

Tyler may not have caught the sense behind it, because they then ask, "What made you switch to medical marijuana?"

Brendon hums. "When my old psychiatrist saw how badly the medication was affecting me, she suggested I might be better off doing things naturally."

"And did it help?"

Brendon's lips turn upwards. He supposed he did overcome one obstacle in his life. "Definitely."

Tyler nods, relief flooding their system. They grab the glass of water from out of his hands and set it elsewhere, snuggling into his stomach at the odd angle they're in. They breathe in the scent although he probably just smells like Jim and coffee, and run their hands up his sides. They don't say a word, but the message is clear by how much they're praising his body. His being. His life.

Maybe Brendon takes himself for granted sometimes.

Tyler kisses where his bellybutton is at, finally wrapping their arms around him. "You should spend the night here again." They whisper; it's almost inaudable.

He has a feeling he knows why they ask. His head still throbs from how hard he hit himself.

"Okay." He replies. It's probably for the best.

Tyler is pleased with that, and Brendon would say he is too. At a time like this all he wanted is comfort whether he's willing to accept it or not, so yes, staying here would be good for him. He's okay right now, but he can never be certain how that might change once he's alone. He's known to destroy himself for anything.

It's exhausting, but he can't help it.

Brendon tries not to focus on what lies before him in terms of the situation between him and Luke, because Tyler's right here, right now, reassuring him that he'll make it. He always can.

***

This just so happened to be the longest thing I've ever written! 10,000 words. Very crazy. I hope it was good enough for you, because I'm very pleased with myself.

Here's another piece lemonjosh drew! I love it.