Josh's body is warm, but Brendon feels cold. The distance of Tyler is too overbearing and he wakes up much earlier than he did the day before from the guilt of it, he'd say.

Josh wound up with his face in Brendon's chest, one hand at his hip and the other limp in his hair. Their legs are tangled together, and he shivers when he can feel how cold Josh's feet are against his. He breathes heavily onto the hoodie he's wearing, somehow managing to look soft despite every tension in his body, like his furrowed brows and rough enough hands.

Brendon sighs, pressing a small kiss to a curl on his forehead before carefully untangling himself from his loose limbs, getting up from the bed. He stands back to look at him.

Josh never stirs. It's not surprising.

Everyone was exhausted last night.

Brendon nods to himself when deciding he will be okay, opening the door after slipping his glasses on and making his way out of the room. As soon as he's at the the stairs though, he can hear Jim crying so loudly it makes his heart ache. He quickly gets to the bottom, walking into the livingroom.

He glances at Tyler on the couch beforehand, trying to see if they're awake yet but it's hard to tell because they have their face tucked into the space between the two couch cushions.

He'll just say they're asleep.

Really, he's scared of when they wake up.

Brendon then crouches down to Jim in his kennel, watching him paw at the door and move around impatiently. Brendon's best guess is that he needs to use the bathroom, so he opens the kennel door and lets him out, watching the way he instantly rushes down the hallway and into the backyard.

He was right.

He swallows thickly after that, turning around. He has this lingering need to look after Tyler right now, and that's exactly what he chooses to do. He sits in the corner of the couch that they aren't taking up, pulling his knees to his chest, curling into himself. Tyler's breathing is heavy just like Josh's, blanket covering the majority of their body to the point where he can only see half of their head and a bit of their thigh.

Brendon shivers. So, so fucking cold. Warmth never comes easily anymore.

He's nearly tempted to crawl up behind Tyler and get under the blanket with them, but he knows for a fact that will most definitely be too much right now. If one things for sure, they need some space, some time.

Because of this, he simply sits there, dealing with the cold.

There's nothing in the bin beside them which is reassuring, and if he knew where everything was, he would get them some Advil because it would come as no surprise to either of them if they wind up with a terrible headache.

He feels very impotent. It's a natural feeling nowadays.

What takes Brendon completely off guard is when he hears, "Are you just going to sit there until I do something. . ."

Tyler doesn't move to look at him, and he can barely catch what they say because of how muffled they are between the cushions, but his heart still manages to skip a beat. They sound horrible. Dead. Nothing like the bittersweet giddiness they had last night.

"Can you blame me," Brendon mumbles.

Tyler sighs.

They make no effort to move; maybe they want to hide.

"Do you want me to get you some water?" He decides to ask. It's the least he can do.

Tyler doesn't say a word. Actually, he thinks he might of heard them hold their breath at that.

Brendon exhales heavily. He knows what they're doing, because again, it reminds him of himself. Want to pretend whatever happened didn't? Avoid anything and everything at all costs. Tyler must know that getting water for them would definitely lead to him asking about the previous night.

Brendon slowly stands up, going to the part of the couch they're at and moving their feet out of the way so he can sit down. Tyler doesn't protest like they might have last night, they simply let it happen.

So he sits there, waiting, because he will for as long as it takes.

"Brendon, you need to look away." They end up saying.

"Why?" He wonders, worried.

A soft blush makes its way onto Tyler's face, they swallow thickly. "I think I took my clothes off last night," they mutter, still not making eye contact with him. "I'm naked."

Immediately, Brendon's face flushes because oh, that's why they haven't moved. The only thing covering them is that blanket, and even then, it isn't a very thick one so it falls into every crevice and, fuck, he can't believe he's been looking at them while they're completely bare.

"Want me to turn around?" He whispers.

Tyler nods, closing their eyes.

Brendon does turn around, not even for their sake, but his own. Seeing them naked is definitely not something he's ready for, no matter how many times he's witnessed them nearly there. And, it's very obvious Tyler is uncomfortable with the situation as well. Usually they don't mind wearing little to nothing, but he knows that if it's causing them to be overwhelmed right now, he should respect that.

Once he's staring at the window opposed to them, he feels and hears them unwrap themself from the blanket.

It takes them a moment to find their clothes, a few, before he hears them slip them back on.

"Can I look now?" Brendon asks carefully.

"Yes." They mutter.

Brendon turns back around only to see them still putting their shirt on, but he doesn't mind, because this is about the third time he's been exposed to their chest and it really doesn't bother him anymore.

For the first time that morning, Tyler looks at him. There's horrid bags beneath their eyes and sorrow behind both of their pupils.

Brendon touches their knee.

"How are you feeling?" He's being gentle for them, but when is he not?

Tyler brings the blanket back over themself, maybe cold, maybe insecure. "Like shit."

He's about to ask which way, yet they somehow seem to know that's exactly what's about to come out of his mouth, and say, "In every way."

Brendon frowns. "Want me to get you some water?"

"No." They reply, looking downwards. "I just want to sleep."

Brendon sighs at that, running his hand up and down their thigh to try and soothe them from whatever stress that may be clouding their head. Tyler seems to like it. They hum, carefully looking back up at Brendon and blinking away the glassy look in their eyes.

"Let me hold you," he decides to test.

Tyler shakes their head. "No."

Brendon doesn't like that. "Why not?"

Tyler's Adam's apple bobs while dwelling on it, carefully bringing their thumb knuckle to their mouth and nibbling at it again. They seem to do that only when they're anxious. Are they anxious right now? Brendon just wants to make them feel safe. They're always safe with him.

"It's going to make me feel belittled. Small." They say it, biting down harder on their skin. "I'm supposed to be big, remember?"

Brendon pulls their hand away from themself, kissing it. "It's okay. You'll always be big to me. Even the biggest people can be small, sometimes." He slowly intertwines their fingers together, and he nearly cringes when he can feel the saliva on their knuckle touch his hand, but he doesn't. This is okay. "It's no different for you."

From saying that, he can see Tyler's jaw and lip tremble, eyes getting that glossy look again.

"Fine." They whisper.

Brendon gives a careful smile, the hand he has at their thigh gripping and pulling to try and get them close. Tyler doesn't sit in his lap, but with their legs on either side of him and he does the same thing with them. Their crotches are uncomfortably close yet neither of then mention it, because it's not important right now, what's important is the way he wraps his arms around their waist and brings their head to his chest.

Brendon slowly runs his fingers through the back of their head, and instantly, they mumble, "Don't touch my hair."

He's quick to stop, settling on running his fingers up and down their back instead.

"Sorry." He whispers. "You're safe."

Tyler nods against him, the grip they have on his hoodie becoming tighter.

Brendon simply holds them then. That's all it takes. Tyler probably just needed that sense of solace before letting loose, because it's not surpsring to anyone that they have many, many things to get out right now. Brendon doesn't even realize they're crying until he can hear them gasp for breath and whimper, which makes his heart drop.

"Ty," he breathes out, holding them tighter.

"Don't mention it." They murmur, pleading. Their voice cracks too.

Brendon doesn't. He knows Tyler has a hard time opening up-- fuck does he know. It took them forever just to smile around him, show when they were happy, now they're sad, miserable, and for their sake, he has to pretend it's not happening. This is hard. It's all so hard.

Tyler cries, they do. Hot tears making their way through the fabric of his clothes in a tantalizing manner.

He doesn't know how to go about the situation, because obviously they don't want him to address what's happening, but he needs to know. What happened? How much do they remember? Do they have a headache? Why can't he touch their hair?

He sighs, kissing their forehead. "Ty,"

Tyler shakes their head, a heavy sob coming from them.

"Let me see your face." Brendon says it as softly as he can, for them.

Tyler shakes their head again. "Don't look at-at me."

"You need to take deep breaths; you can't do that if you're pressed into my chest." Brendon tries, he really does. They need to sit back and inhale, take everything in. Maybe state something as simple as their favorite color to get their mind off of this.

"No." They croak. "I'm fine."

Brendon shakes his head. "You need to listen to me, please. I always listen to you, I always trust you. It's my turn." He remembers saying something exactly like that when they stayed with him at his mom's, but it's true. "You're okay with me. You're not weak, you're not belittled, you're human. You're strong. You're brave."

"I don't want to." They gulp audibly, rubbing against Brendon's chest.

Brendon nods, hand delicate on their back. "Will you tell me why?" He knows why, he simply needs them to admit it. For themself.

Tyler huffs, digging their nails into his shoulder unintentionally and Brendon tries his best not to seem fazed. Their entire body is tense from everything they have pent up; it isn't good, and he's sure they know that but are too stubborn to release all their frustration.

"I don't. . . I don't like being like this. I don't want you to," they sniffle, then cough out another sob. "I don't want you to see. I hate being vulnerable."

Brendon knows, he really does. They make it very clear.

He kisses their eyebrow. "I do too, but I trust you, and I know it's beneficial for all of us to show you that side of me. I've done it many times now." It's quite embarrassing how many times he has been in that state in front of them. "Do you trust me?"

Tyler's breath hiccups, they still.

Do they not trust him?

Maybe trust shouldn't be given lightly. Brendon hasn't learned that yet. He trusts people far too easily.

Finally though, after a horribly long silence, Tyler nods. "I trust you. Yes. I do."

Brendon is relieved. "And I trust you. Isn't that enough for you to show me your face?"

Tyler exhales heavily, nibbling at the hoodie he's wearing momentarily before running their hands down to his hips. "Okay," they whisper. Brendon touches their wrist, encouraging, supportive. They can do it, it's okay. It's always okay.

Slowly, after a hefty breath, they pull away from his chest. Their careful eyes meet his, pink, full of tears, just like the rest of their face. Their lips are so unbelievably swollen, so much more tempting than usual, but the thought makes him sick because of the circumstance.

Brendon touches their cheek, brushing away whatever falls.

He blinks, and they do too.

"I'm crying." Tyler states. Like it isn't obvious.

Brendon nods, pulling his hand away and instead loosely connecting theirs together. "Yeah," he mutters. "Why might that be?"

Tyler looks downwards, shaking their head with another sniffle, and another warm tear. It slides down to their lips and falls off at their cupid's bow.

"I didn't know when to tell you. I don't like thinking about it." They're sincere, terrified. It makes Brendon squeeze their hand tighter, wanting to remind them as quickly as he can that they can trust him with anything, because he knows by now he can do the same with them.

"What is it?" He shouldn't play dumb, and he's not. He has many, many questions.

Tyler still doesn't look at him. They're so afraid.

"My family," they murmur.

Silently, quite a few tears fall down at the simple mention of them. He watches the way their face contorts into something of endless sorrow, a loud cry coming from them then. They stare at their lap and cry. Cry and cry and cry. Every drop landing on the blanket where their thighs would be.

Brendon lets it happen. He knows it needs to.

It's a healthy reaction to something terrible; it would be strange if they weren't upset.

"What about them, Ty?" He eases in after using his free hand to rest at their shoulder.

"So much. . ." They whisper.

Brendon nods. "Are you comfortable with telling me?"

Tyler shrugs, breath stuttering when their mouth opens again. "You need to know."

He swallows thickly at that. He hopes they don't feel obligated to tell him, he hopes that they will because they know any personal information like this is safe with him. It's scary, but it helps to get it out. "And you can tell me. I'm here for you."

Tyler carefully nods, sniffling, and using the back of their hand to wipe their nose. "I hate this." They state. "I hate talking about things that affect me terribly."

Brendon nods again. "I know. But sometimes it's necessary."

In this case, it definitely is. Brendon is tired of being on edge from things he isn't aware of, only questioning.

Tyler shrugs. "I know. That's. . . That's why I'm going to tell you."

Brendon hums in response, leaning forward momentarily to kiss their chin.

Tyler breathes in and out, trying their hardest to gain the courage to speak. They have the tendency to keep everything pent up, he's learned. It never helps really. Point in case: Tyler right at this very moment; tears streaming down their cheeks and sanity stomped into the ground.

Tyler clears their throat. "The easiest way to say what's wrong is that my family loves me, but not me."

Brendon furrows his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Tyler hasn't looked at him in too long. "My family, um." They stop, wiping their eyes. "I came out to them when I was in college. After I got with Josh. Once I was finally comfortable with my identity, and I somehow got the guts to tell everyone one year on Thanksgiving, at the table."

Brendon gulps, running his thumb over theirs.

"It was horrible. And not in the way you would imagine it to be, it was horrible because it was like I was a ghost. They completely dismissed it, never mentioned it, didn't ask me a single thing to even try and understand. They pretended it never happened, even though I-I fucking had so many panic attacks that day because of it." They pause, shaking their head. "It meant nothing, and I felt like nothing."

Brendon frowns when they say it, because Tyler is so much more than nothing. They're everything.

Tyler sighs, finally, finally looking up at him. "Brendon, they still pretend it doesn't exist. Like my entire identity doesn't. They love Tyler, they do, but they don't love me."

Oh. . .

Brendon. . . He doesn't know.

"They don't try with pronouns, because to them, they don't need to. This, me, I don't exist. Only Tyler does. Tyler before they came out, Tyler before they tested everyone's beliefs."

Brendon still doesn't fully grasp what that's supposed to mean, and he actually feels a little stupid because of it.

"Any time I see them, it's-it's big smiles, and tight hugs, and it makes me feel disgusting." Tyler blinks and a tear follows, this time, falling off the tip of their petite nose.

"They don't say any mean things, do they?" Brendon asks out of paranoia.

Tyler's quick to shake their head, wiping their face again. "No, and that's--" they sit up straighter, inhaling, exhaling. "That's the thing." They sigh in aggravation. "I would much rather have them tell me what a fucking abomination I am instead of completely ignoring the entire situation. This is me. I'm not going to change. I never will, and they need to understand this is how it will always be, and-and maybe they do, but they don't say anything."

Brendon's chest feels heavy, for many reasons.

If it's bad enough to where they'd prefer to be harrassed opposed to what is actually happening, it must be terrible.

"Verbal abuse has nothing against mental abuse," Tyler says, horribly, voice cracking and eyes down casting.

Brendon swallows, not sure what's too much to ask and what's not. "What do they do that. . ." He doesn't finish.

Tyler bites their lip, staring at the separation between the two couch cushions. "It's hard to tell when it's purposeful or not anymore." They whisper. "I came out so long ago they might have even forgotten at this point. Nearly ten years."

Brendon touches their jaw, he doesn't know why. "Don't you. . . You know, remind them?"

Tyler's Adam's apple bobs at that. "I used to. Quite a lot, but not overbearing because that will never get me anywhere if I'm irritating with it. I tried to be persistent, and that still got me nowhere." Then, their eyes widen suddenly, like they were reminded of something. "Like. . . Like I said, they never speak about it, but, uh, one time I brought it up again and I remember so clearly what my father said, I--" they shake their head and another sob wrestles its way out of them.

Brendon frowns once more, wiping the tears as they come and gripping their hand even tighter than before. "What-what did he say, Ty?"

Tyler whimpers, face flushing.

"Breathe," Brendon reminds.

Tyler nods in response, slowly taking in a deep breath, and releasing it with a hiccup.

They look to him again. "He said that--" another tear, another helpless noise. "He said 'how can I call you anything other than my son when I can see your-your. . . Your cock through those jeans.'" Brendon's eyes widen when he hears it, and instantly, Tyler's pulling farther away so the (not important but nearly-there) crotch touching wasn't able to happen whether either of them wanted it to or not.

"Why would he--"

Tyler shakes their head; they've been doing it all morning. "I hate that word. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it, I hate it."

Tyler goes back to their uncontrollable sobs again, and Brendon watches their free hand slip into their hair-- which he was told not to touch-- and begin pulling. Not semi-harshly, but to the point where Tyler's hand is trembling, turning pink and white with the amount of strength they're putting into it.

In many ways, Tyler is a hypocrite, yet Brendon doesn't mention it.

"Tyler, stop," he rushes out, quickly pulling their hand away.

Maybe this is another reason they shave their head. Or at least, used to. He doesn't know what's happening.

"Josh tried, Josh-Josh tried. Josh always tries." At this point, Tyler's speaking nonsense. They have their eyes squeezed shut, heaving now. Their chest moves up and down in a frantic manner, breathing heavy and irrationally.

"Josh tried what?" Brendon is trying.

Tyler pulls the blanket further up their body, blinking repeatedly to try and process everything. "Josh tries to make that word better for me, but its never worked. It-it won't." They move their hand away from Brendon's, using both of them to fiddle with the end of their shirt. "It's a trigger word. It wasn't before, but ever since then, it has been."

Brendon's mouth feels dry. "Do, uh, do you have any other trigger words besides the obvious ones?"

Tyler shrugs. They're slowly calming down from the surge of panic that rushed through them.

"Most times it has to do with me not feeling comfortable with the word opposed to it being triggering." They say it, and another silent tear makes way down their cheek. "Like. . . That word, the most memorable experiences with it have been hurtful, and used against me. I appreciate Josh trying to make it into something positive, but it can't be. Not. . . Not anymore."

Brendon nods. "What do you prefer--" He turns bright red as soon as he speaks, because, what? He needs to be more thoughtful before opening his mouth; he cannot ask that. No. "Nevermind, that was. . . Sorry."

Tyler pauses, he thinks they hold their breath, too. "Were you going to ask what I call my. . ."

Brendon feels his heart skip a beat, entire body going hot. "Uh, yes. I didn't mean to. I don't know where it came from, I just--"

"My genitals." They cut him off, wiping the stickiness on their face with a sniffle. "Nothing more and nothing less."

Brendon nods again. "Okay." It makes sense.

Tyler connects eyes with him after an unbearingly long time. "How did we go from talking about my family to talking about what's in my pants?" They don't seem too bothered by it, which is relieving, because he doesn't want to put them in a place where they're uncomfortable.

"Sorry. . . I didn't mean to--"

"What's in your pants?" Tyler asks, kind of forcefully which takes him off guard.

Brendon flushes in just the slightest. "What? Why do you have to ask?" He thought it was pretty obvious.

Tyler shrugs, and he can't stand that they're still crying. He's sure though that it's good. They need to get it out, in whatever possible way. "I have told you what's in mine, I think you should tell me what's in yours." Is that this works?

Brendon clears his throat. "Uh," he's about to say a cock, but something tells him that might trigger Tyler even if he's not referring to them. "A dick?"

Tyler nods. "I know."

"Then. . . Then why did you. . ."

"Because it shows me you're comfortable. So I'm comfortable. I can talk about this with you." They explain it, and Brendon feels like an idiot for not understanding before. Of course. It's all about comfort. It always is.

"You can talk to me about anything, Ty. I'm not going to judge you." Brendon says, and he means it.

Tyler sniffles at that, biting their lip. "I-I know, and, um, that's why I feel okay telling you that I. . . I have male genitals." They mutter the last bit so quietly. "And I know you already knew that, how could you not have? But, uh, I'm okay with telling you. Because this is me, I'm not going to change or transition. I don't necessarily like having what I do but there's not much else possible unless I want a," they gulp. "You know, and I don't. So this is what I have to deal with."

Brendon nods, rubbing their cheek and feeling the thickness of their scruff. "Okay. And you're perfect no matter what you have, to me."

Tyler shakes their head quickly. "Don't say that. I hate that."

Brendon frowns. "Why?"

"I know you mean it kindly, but it doesn't make me feel better. I'm not perfect this way. I don't know what I want, but this--" they gesture to themself, choking up a bit. "This isn't it."

Brendon blinks, nodding again. "Is it better if I say I'll like you no matter what you have?"

Tyler sniffles. "Yes."

Brendon nods, pulling his hand away from their cheek. Tyler looks back up at him, all tears dried on their face now, and he's not sure if any more will come. "Can I ask you something?" He doesn't want to bring it up, but it feels necessary.

"Okay," they murmur.

Brendon's Adam's apple bobs. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but uh, why-why did you grow your hair out and your. . . Um, facial hair?" Maybe he knows, maybe he doesn't. He can never be certain with anything when it comes to Tyler.

At that, they falter. "It's stupid." They whisper."

"No, it's not." Nothing they've ever told him has been stupid.

Tyler sighs heavily, bringing their thumb knuckle back to their mouth and sucking, rocking back and forth slowly. Brendon lets them, and they do it for a while, but that's okay. They have strange ways of easing stress, he'd say. They're practically sucking their thumb like a child would do, and rocking back and forth like they're in a cradle.

It's nothing he's seen before, yet he doesn't find it necessary to bring it up.

"You can tell me, Ty." Brendon tries.

Tyler exhales, carefully bringing their knuckle out of their mouth. "Yeah, I can."

"You can." They always can.

They nod, slowly looking back at Brendon, big brown eyes and long lashes. "I've given up," they say.

Brendon frowns once again. "What do you mean?"

Tyler huffs, pulling their legs away from Brendon's and instead crossing them beneath the blanket. "I've tried for years to showcase myself the way I want them-- my family-- to see me. Non-binary. Not their son, not their brother, not their he/him." Tyler squeezes their eyes shut for a moment, groaning from the back of their throat. "Just like everything else, it never worked. They were still saying he and loosely throwing around him-- and after I dealt with that for so long, constantly, constantly, being misgendered by the people who are supposed to care about me most, it just destroyed my mental stability."

Brendon can't stand any of it. He's saddened, frustrated, angered. So many things.

"I think I finally realized there's no point, and maybe I. . . Maybe I conform to be accepted, assuming it would make me happier." Their lips tremble into a frown, tears welling in their eyes again. "It doesn't make me happier. I-I don't know why I do it, Brendon. I just want them to love me. And if I play a role for them, it will all be okay, because I'll finally get the one thing I've been wishing for after years."

Brendon can't help but realize this is an ongoing cycle. "Tyler, you need to start doing things for yourself instead of others. You don't need to keep certain things from Josh for his sake, or pretend to be someone you're not for your family. If they don't accept you for who you really are, then they don't deserve you."

Tyler whimpers, and yet another tear falls down their cheek. "Josh says that. But I-I don't think you guys understand."

"Don't understand what?"

Tyler shakes their head, wiping their new round of tears. "I can take it from others. I can take it from my coworkers and people I see throughout the day because they're not important," Tyler stops for a moment, sobbing loudly. "But-but-but when it's my family, it's not the same. I need them to get it, to understand, to love me. I. . . I need them to. They're my blood, and as much as I hate it, I need that conformation to be happy."

"Who told you that?" Brendon wonders.

Tyler's breath hiccups. "Who told me what?"

"That you can't be happy without their approval?"

Tyler looks downwards after he says it, possibly ashamed, possibly hurting. "Myself." They whisper.

Brendon touches their arm. "And why do you believe it?" He breathes out. "Just because you think you need their acceptance to be happy, that doesn't mean it's true." He runs his hand all the way down until it's beneath the blanket and can connect with theirs. "I know it sucks, I know. You want your family to respect who you are because they're important, but. . . But sometimes, it's impossible. And you can't keep forcing yourself to do things you aren't comfortable with for their sake. That's only going to make all this shit you feel worse."

Tyler blinks, a tear falling. "I feel like it can't get any worse."

Brendon hums. "It can, and it has. You're to the point where you feel like you have to change the things you love most about your appearance to please them. What good does that do anyone?"

It seems to hit Tyler hard when he says that, tear after tear falling and they gasp for breath again. "Nothing,"

Brendon nods, scooting closer. "You say you trust me, so I need you to when I tell you that I know you can be happy without them. You have Josh, and. . . And you have me. We're always going to be here for you, because we care for you. We accept you, we respect you, we want the best for you." Brendon's free hand moves to their jaw. "You don't need them. Happiness is right here."

As soon as he finishes speaking, Tyler breaks into a fit of sobs again, falling against his shoulder and crying. Brendon holds them while it happens, kissing their temple, gripping reassuringly on their hand.

"It's okay to let go," Brendon reminds.

Tyler nods.

It's not until Brendon can hear footsteps making their way down the stairs where he sees Josh, hair tasseled and brows pulled together in concern. He looks to Brendon, Adam's apple bobbing.

He stands there for a moment before walking over to the two of them at the couch and carefully placing his hand on Tyler's back.

Tyler sniffles, pulling their face out of Brendon's chest. They look up at Josh with a tear rolling down their cheek.

"I'm sorry." They whisper.

Josh shakes his head, using his thumb to wipe their cheeks. "Let's shave your head."

Tyler's eyes light up despite the glassy look of them. "Please."

Josh nods to himself, standing up straighter and pulling his hands away from their face. He walks off and into the bathroom, and Tyler breathes out a sigh of relief, grip on Brendon's-- Josh's-- hoodie becoming loose.

Brendon though, he's paranoid.

"What do you remember from last night?" He asks abruptly.

Tyler frowns. "Um. . ." They have to think about it, swallowing thickly. "I don't remember anything after a certain part of the reception." They say, and quickly afterwards, they freeze, looking at Brendon with wide eyes and tense hands. "Why?"

Brendon bites his cheek, shaking his head. He doesn't say anything.

Tyler sits up straighter. He can see the panic in their face. "Why, Brendon? What happened?"

Brendon's chest feels heavy. He doesn't want to tell them, it seems horrible to; they should find out from Josh instead of him. Still though, he knows Tyler isn't going to let this go, so with a deep inhale, he says, "You told Josh about. . . About the husband thing."

As soon as he says it, he watches Tyler pull back with wide eyes and more tears. "Oh. . ." They whisper. "Fuck."

"He. . . He was really upset about it last night." Brendon says quietly because Josh isn't far and he doesn't want him to hear. "He said that he's one of the reasons you got so drunk last night. Because he makes you feel disgusting-- I, um, that's what he said."

Tyler shakes their head, sniveling. "Fuck." They mutter again, suddenly standing up from the couch.

Brendon frowns. "Where are you going?"

Tyler's chest is moving up and down rapidly once more. "I-I need to shave my head." They rush out, biting their lip. "Come with me."

Brendon nods. "Okay." He agrees, carefully standing up as well. He follows Tyler into the bathroom where there's a towel on the floor and Josh plugging in the shaving clippers.

He looks to both of them. "I need to get the chair," he mutters.

Tyler touches his fingers. "My head is killing me."

Josh hums, placing the clippers down. He looks to them and kisses their forehead, and Brendon can't help but assume Tyler is doing this purposefully, to reassure themself that them and Josh are okay. "I'll get you some Advil."

Tyler nods, closing their eyes momentarily. "Thank you."

Josh squeezes their hand once before leaving the room, walking right past Brendon.

"Where should I sit. . .?" He asks after a second.

Tyler blinks. "Shave my head."

Brendon stills. "What? Me? I've-I've never shaved anyone's head before-- I don't know how." He watches their hand move to their mouth, but they pull it back right away.

"I trust you." They state.

"Tyler, I don't want to mess up--"

"You can't mess up if I'm shaving everything off." They deadpan, sitting down onto the counter. It pushes their thighs up and makes them look wider, and for some reason Brendon really wants to touch them, but he won't. It's not necessary right now.

"Okay, fine." He murmurs distractedly.

Tyler seems pleased.

Soon enough Josh comes back into the room with one of the dining chairs and a few Advil, as well as a juice box. A juice box. He hands them to Tyler once the chair is situated onto the towel, and they instantly are popping the pills into their mouth and taking big gulps of juice.

They swallow easily, and afterwards, they're taking their shirt off.

Brendon is about to ask why, but he knows it's because they don't want to get hair on it.

Tyler sits down, juice box in hand. "Brendon's going to shave my head."

Josh nods. "Okay. Good. I'm fucking exhausted still." he huffs, taking a seat on the toilet lid.

Tyler doesn't say anything, because even though things are seemingly okay, the tension is thick. Josh thinks Tyler isn't aware of what they said, so he's staying quiet, but Tyler does know, and Brendon is pretty sure the only reason they're not speaking up about it is because he's here. Because of this, it's nearly awkward.

"Want me to put the attachment size for you?" Josh wonders when he sees Brendon making no move to begin.

He nods, heart in his throat.

Josh then turns to Tyler. "Which one do you want?"

Tyler doesn't look at him. "Shortest." They mutter.

Josh hums, grabbing the clippers and putting the shortest attachment size they have onto it. Afterwards, he hands it to Brendon with a soft smile and tired eyes, touching his fingertips while he grabs it.

"Okay," Josh says when he's holding it.

Brendon clears his throat. "Okay."

He turns to Tyler, who's sipping on the straw of their juice box and waiting patiently for Brendon to start. They're visibly ecstatic as soon as he turns the clippers on, and when he asks, "Are you ready?" They say, "Always." With so much assurance.

Brendon's hand trembles horribly the closer it gets to their head, but without thinking any further, he moves forward and sure enough, their hair buzzes right off and falls down their back. "Holy shit," he croaks out. "Did I. . . Am I doing it?"

Tyler touches his waist. "Keep going."

Brendon gulps, nodding. He runs over the same spot again because it didn't shave it fully, and he continues to do it until it won't shave anymore and is that the length Tyler wants it, which is-- jeez, a lot shorter than he saw previously. There's barely anything left, it's so short, so thin, but he knows they can pull it off easily.

Tyler doesn't move their hand from his waist, and Brendon would even say that it's keeping him stable. He knows this is more than just him shaving their head, this is a key to trustworthiness. He knows because it feels different than it probably should. He knows because Tyler is looking up at him with this unbelievable amount of certainty in their eyes, it makes Brendon's heart skip.

Tyler blinks in slow motion, and Brendon watches them turn into the person he has been subconsciously mourning for ever since things began shifting. Every time the clippers move against their head, it feels like he's one step closer to being home. Where Tyler lets him touch their hair, where Tyler isn't worried about their appearance.

Josh watches from the corner with a subtle upturn on his lips. Brendon is positive everyone is going to be happier now.

He makes sure to run over everything, and once he finishes getting the hair from the back of their head, he takes a step back.

Instantly, he feels like he can breathe again.

He slowly turns the clippers off, staring at them. He forgot what they looked like when they weren't hiding, and he's ashamed of himself for forgetting how beautiful Tyler truthfully is. More than before. There's nothing more appealing than seeing them be themself again.

Of course Tyler could still make Brendon starstruck any day, with or without their hair grown out, but there's something so much more precious, attractive, sexy, when they're being true to themself.

Brendon bites his lip. "Done."

Tyler stops sucking on the straw, pulling it away.

They let out a heavy exhale and set the juice box down onto the counter, quickly standing up to look at themself in the mirror. He and Josh both watch as they stare at themself, running a hand over their head and not bothering to hold back such a needed smile. They close their eyes and just breathe, letting it sink in. Brendon is happy that he was able to do this for them.

"Did I do alright?" He asks sheepishly.

Tyler opens their eyes again, looking at him. Not even a second later they pull him into a tremendously tight hug; arms around his shoulders and head tucked into his neck. "Thank you." They whisper.

Brendon hugs them back, easily. "I missed you."

It has a much deeper meaning than they might assume, and luckily Tyler catches it. They nod against him, and Brendon is relieved to feel their very short hair poke him instead of having their longer strands tickle his cheek.

He ignores the fact that he's touching their bare back, and how he can notice every dip so clearly, because that's not what matters at all right now. Though it has him a bit flustered because of how tantalizing warm they are, and how soft their skin is, he can't think too much about it. He won't.

Tyler pulls away and clears their throat, slowly turning to Josh.

Josh examines, and god, Brendon can tell how content he is having them back to normal.

"That's my baby." He says, and Tyler blushes, grabbing the juice box off the counter and drinking it again.

Brendon bites his cheek. He looks around at the mess of shaven hair all over the place, pursing his lips. "Should we start cleaning this up?" He wonders, watching Tyler slip their oversized shirt back on and seeing it fall to their mid-thigh again.

Why can't he stop thinking about their thighs? He's weird.

Josh nods, getting off the toilet lid. "Bring the chair back into the dining room and I'll take care of the rest."

Brendon follows through, making sure to brush away all the fallen hair on it before lifting it up and carefully walking out of the bathroom, down the hallway, and into its designated area. While there, he sees Tyler's package which instantly reminds him to mention something to them about it.

But, while he's walking back to the bathroom, he watches the door slam shut as soon as he turns the corner. He freezes in place, nearly confused, but then he hears Josh say, "Please don't do that again. I know it was bad but getting fucked up isn't going to solve anything."

Brendon swallows thickly. He shouldn't be listening in.

"I'm sorry." Tyler whispers.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you more. You know I can't stand seeing you upset. I tried my best to help you as much as possible, but there's only so many things I can do before it's not enough. Especially with them." Josh sighs, Brendon frowns. "Are you okay?"

Tyler doesn't answer, for a while.

"I don't know." They end up saying.

Josh hums. "How are you feeling, then?"

It's Tyler's turn to sigh. "Horrible."

"In which way?"

"In every way."

If Brendon could see Josh, he'd probably be frowning right now. Brendon sure is.

"Go relax and watch TV with Brendon, I'll cook breakfast. You need to rest." He decides. "What do you want to eat?"

Brendon isn't hungry, and for some peculiar reason he thinks that maybe they won't ask him to eat, but he knows that's not possible in this home. All he ate yesterday was a breakfast burrito and chips, and maybe that should be concerning how that's holding him over, yet he isn't worrying. He's fine. Completely fine.

"I'm really not hungry. My stomach is upset." Tyler replies, and he's relieved. Hopefully he won't be pressured into eating again.

"No, you need to eat." Josh states assertively. "You threw up everything. Twice. I'll give you some Tums and hopefully that will make you feel good enough to eat something."

There's a pause. ". . .I threw up? Twice?"

"Yeah. Once in the car and another time before we showered." He then groans a bit. "You got it all over your button up, too."

Tyler seems to dismiss that, instead they ask, in disbelief, "We showered?"

Josh is probably nodding right now. "Yeah. I had to carry you up the stairs. You couldn't walk. We had to undress you and I had to hold you in the shower so you wouldn't fall." This all is most likely tremendously disheartening to hear in Tyler's sake.

"We? I-- what do you mean? Did Brendon see me naked?"

"No, babe. Only me." He says it, and Tyler's sighs out of relief.

"Okay." They murmur. "We should. . . We should probably go back out there."

Josh hums once again. "Yeah, okay, but we need to talk later. Really."

Brendon leaves to the kitchen before hearing anything else, not feeling like getting caught for eavesdropping. He'll just deal with the guilt of listening in, but he's used to that feeling by now so it doesn't bother him all that much anymore.

When he sees the two of them walk in, Brendon's Adam's apple bobs.

"Um, a package came for Tyler Dun, anyone know who that is?" Brendon asks, trying to relieve the tension with whatever terrible comedy he can think of.

At that, Tyler's lips upturn. "Yes." They whisper beneath their breath.

Josh is holding the towel full of Tyler's hair, slowly unlocking the front door and slipping outside without a word. Tyler looks away, instead walking to the table and sitting down on one of the chairs, Brendon deciding to sit beside them.

They grab the house key they loaned him and while they're using it to the cut the tape, Brendon asks, "So what is it?"

Tyler stops what they're doing, connecting eyes with him momentarily. "Wouldn't you like to know,"

Brendon is about to say yeah, that's why I asked, but it seems too rude, so he settles for humming and not pushing any further. Therefore, Tyler continues opening the box after that, eyes subtly lighting up once they can see what's inside.

They pull it out, and Brendon blinks.

"You got more clothes?"

Tyler looks back at him. "I use my hard earned money wisely, thank you very much."

Brendon shakes his head with an airy chuckle. "What is it, anyways?"

Tyler bites their lip, slowly reaching back into the box and pulling a few other clothing pieces out, and Brendon. . . He doesn't know. Tyler unfolds one, holding a shirt up to their chest and letting him see.

"Tyler," is all Brendon could get out.

It's a pale yellow shirt that says 'I Make My Mom Sad With My Choices' and then a small font, in parenthesis 'every day.'

Tyler shrugs, laying it down on the table and unfolding another. This one is a black t-shirt with a small heart on the pec, and inside the heart is four lines. Four lines he remembers: Yellow, white, purple, black.

Tyler looks up at him. "Do you know what it is?"

Josh told him. He nods. "Yeah."

Tyler seems suspicious. "What is it?"

Brendon rips his gaze away from the shirt and connects his eyes with theirs. He blinks, running a hand through his hair. He finds himself nearly smiling when remembering Tyler's is shaven now. They still have their facial hair, but he's positive they're going to fix that.

"The non-binary flag," he states.

Tyler is pleased. They nod, a small smile on their face. "Someone is getting educated." They mutter, looking away and pulling out another piece of clothing.

Tyler shows him the rest of the clothes they got, like different colored socks and a new choker that, wow, Brendon is sure will look really, really good on them. Josh comes back inside and says that he'll start breakfast, which evidently makes Brendon anxious. He's had enough.

"Let's go watch TV." Tyler touches his hand.

Brendon stops bouncing his leg. He didn't even realize he was doing it.

Just as they both stand up, Jim comes prancing into the room like he wasn't gone for an unreasonably long amount of time. He doesn't have dirt on him, so Brendon isn't too worried. He probably needed to be outside after spending the whole night in the kennel.

Before he and Tyler walk away, Josh glances to the table, shaking his head. "When did you order those?"

Tyler shrugs. "A few weeks ago."

Josh hums. "Maybe we should turn the computer room into a closet for you." He mumbles, pulling stuff out of the fridge.

Tyler rolls their eyes, beginning to walk away again.

"Tums, baby." Josh reminds.

Tyler turns on their heel, sighing, and walking into the kitchen. They open one of the cabinets-- which Brendon now knows is the medicine one-- and grabs the container, dumping a couple into their hand. Before leaving, they carefully touch Josh's waist and kiss the back of his neck.

Afterwards, they make their way into the livingroom, Jim and Brendon following right behind.

"Did you watch any Netflix while we were gone?" They ask, chewing on one of the Tums.

Brendon sits down. "Yeah."

They hum. "What did you watch?"

Brendon shrugs. "Um, I don't know. I just looked through your list and picked what I thought was most interesting. I don't remember what it was called." He rests his foot on Jim's back when he lays down on the floor in front of him, Tyler plopping down onto the couch beside him once grabbing the remote.

When they turn it on though, their eyebrows pull together. "DVD? Why did you have it on DVD?"

Brendon completely forgot about that. "Oh, uh, I wanted to check out some of the movies you have."

Tyler nods, getting up to change it. They bend over to mess with the DVD player and Brendon-- god dammit. A blush makes its way onto his cheeks again because, just like last night, their ass is right in his face. Well, right now it isn't exactly in his face. . . He's choosing to look. . . But.

After a moment though, Tyler slowly stands back up. "Brendon?"

He swallows thickly. "Huh?"

They turn around, their wedding day case in hand, and now Brendon's entire body flushes. Fuck. Fuck. "Why is this out? Did you. . . Did you watch this?"

His stomach churns instantaneously. "Um," is all he can get out. He said he can deal with guilt, but maybe that's a lie, because now it's coming full force and he feels like he can't breathe. His eyes look at theirs worriedly, and all he's hoping for is that they're okay with the fact that he watched it.

"I didn't want you to see this." They murmur, face becoming hard.

"I'm-I'm sorry, I don't know why I did-- I was just curious and it was stupid of me, I know." His throat tightens, his body tenses. He's so stupid, so nosey, so imperfect.

"So you already knew about the situation with my family before I told you." They say, not ask.

Brendon shakes his head. "No, I. . . I turned it off after your mom was talking."

Tyler stares at him. "Okay."

After that, they turn around and switch the inputs. Brendon sits there with his nerves eating away at him, because now he's made them upset again, even after all the shit they have already gone through. He's so stupid.

Tyler sits back on the couch once everything is sorted, facing him. "Hold me."

Brendon's chest goes heavy; he's not sure whether they're angry with him or not and this is making it even more confusing. "Okay," he whispers, carefully touching their waist and pulling them close. Tyler winds up between his legs, wrapping their arms around him and he does the same.

They sigh heavily once tucking their face into his chest.

Brendon runs his hand over their head, heart beating loudly and he's positive they're able to hear it. "Are you mad at me?" He asks nervously.

Easily, Tyler shakes their head.

They keep quiet for a while, the Netflix homescreen on the television, and Brendon can hear Josh making breakfast in the kitchen. In some strange way, this is reminding him to breathe.

"That was one of the worst days of my life," Tyler whispers finally.

Brendon frowns. "Why?"

He has a good idea, but still, he'd rather hear it from them instead of assuming.

Tyler huffs out a breath, holding him tighter. "I know that day is supposed to be amazing, but everything about it was horrible. We wanted something small, and of course, that didn't happen. My parents decided they would fund a lot of it for us, and the entire thing was practically controlled by them. They made me wear a fucking suit-- I can't stand that. I couldn't even dress the way I wanted to because they spent so much money just to put me in something that makes me uncomfortable. On my wedding. It wasn't about me. It wasn't about Josh. It was about what they wanted, and to them, it was perfect." Brendon can feel their Adam's apple bob against his pec. "It wasn't perfect. It was the last thing from it."

He can't stand it. The only thing that gives him hope is knowing at least Josh's family respects them. They need more respect, acceptance, and he doesn't understand why that's so hard to give.

"I think that's the most I have ever gotten misgendered." They murmur. "By every single person there except our few friends and Josh's family. The people who sat in front of us and watched our most vulnerable moment, they decided they would ruin that." Tyler laughs bitterly. "Even the man who married us."

Brendon feels sick.

"I was so dysphoric our entire honeymoon that I didn't leave the hotel because I didn't want anyone to see me. I didn't even want Josh to see me." They sigh. "I stayed in bed the whole week. I ruined it for us."

Brendon shakes his head. "Don't say you ruined it,"

"I ruined it, Brendon. Josh and I had always wanted to go there, and I couldn't get out of bed because I was so far gone. So selfish. So immature. I get into that state of mind, and as much as I hate it, I can't think of anything or anyone else. I sacrificed Josh's happiness because I can't deal with the fact that I'm a freak."

Brendon's eyebrows furrow. "Tyler, you're not a freak."

Tyler pulls the blanket over their body. "I'm a freak." They whisper.

Brendon exhales heavily. "Just because your situation isn't seen on a day-to-day basis doesn't mean you're a freak. It doesn't make you any less human. It doesn't make you any less normal."

Tyler shakes their head, now pulling the blanket to cover their head so he can no longer see them. "I'm feeling that way again," they mutter.

Brendon doesn't understand. "What way?"

Tyler goes quiet.

He pulls the blanket over his head, seeing Tyler resting on his chest, staring at nothing with a blank look. "You can tell me."

Tyler blinks. "I feel like it's the honeymoon all over again." They say, numbly.

Too many things run through Brendon's head in just that moment. He gulps, holding onto their shirt tighter. "What can I do to help?"

Tyler shakes their head, closing their eyes. "I want to go to bed."

Brendon breathes. "You have to eat first, then you can get as much rest as you need." He says softly, looking down at them knowing full well they won't look back up at him. "Do you think you can do that?" Maybe the willingness to protect them is becoming more obvious than he intended.

Tyler brings their thumb knuckle to their mouth again, nodding slowly.

"I'll hold you until food is ready." He decides, and that's that.

He does hold them, for a good ten minutes after that. It's dark under the blanket and Brendon even finds himself dozing off from the lack of light and the weirdly soothing sound of Tyler sucking on their knuckle. He gets taken out of that state abruptly though when he can hear glass bowls being placed down onto the coffee table.

Brendon slowly pulls the blanket off of his head, looking at the breakfast made.

His eyebrows pull together. "What's that?"

Josh shrugs. "Fruit parfaits." He says, sitting down at the end of the couch where Tyler's feet are. "It's got granola, yogurt, and strawberries. It's really good."

Seems light enough for his stomach, maybe it won't be that bad.

Josh carefully brings the blanket away from covering Tyler's face. "Baby," he murmurs, and Tyler groans. They open their eyes and stare at Josh angrily, because they were obviously very comfortable and enjoying themself.

"I'm tired. I want to sleep." They mutter.

"Eat first, then sleep." Josh determines.

Tyler quietly moans to themself in distress. "I don't want to move. I'm comfortable."

Josh sighs, touching their leg. "It'll only take a little bit, and then you can just go to bed. In our bed. And not on a couch. Doesn't that sound good?"

Tyler nods softly. "Yes, but I don't want to move."

Josh shakes his head for a second, grabbing one of the three bowls of food. "Do you want me to feed you?"

Tyler hums, then nods. They move their head out of Brendon's chest and close their eyes, opening their mouth already despite Josh not yet scooping anything up. At the sight though, he chuckles, using his spoon to shovel everything into one bite before bringing it to Tyler's mouth.

Brendon's heart flutters as he watches them register the spoon there and carefully wrap their lips around it, chewing once Josh pulls the silverware away.

In some strange way, it's charming.

Josh looks his way while they chew. "Are you going to eat?"

Brendon bites his lip. "Uh, I'll wait until they're done."

Josh only nods, focusing on them again. He spends the next ten minutes or so just feeding them, and Brendon rubs up and down their back to try and soothe them as much as possible. It's clear now how overwhelmed they are, and he knows the best thing to do is make them feel safe and comfortable. Relaxed. It seems to be not only his, but Josh's goal as well, and when he feeds Tyler that last bite, he leans down to kiss their forehead.

"I'll go put your bowl into the sink, and then you can go to bed." Josh mutters distractedly, standing up from the couch.

Tyler nods without a word, so Josh leaves to the other room.

It's quiet after that, but it needs to be. Brendon continues to run his hand up and down their back, and it's then when Tyler brings their thumb knuckle into their mouth once again.

Brendon blinks. "Does that calm you down?"

Tyler closes their eyes, shrugging.

He doesn't push after that, deciding Tyler is probably going back into that anxious state like he saw them in over the phone yesterday. They're not talking, they're nibbling on their knuckle again, and they're really cuddly. Maybe wanting to feel protected?

At the thought, he pulls them closer.

Though, the calmness doesn't last long because he can hear Josh grumble, "Fuck," in the kitchen.

Brendon furrows his eyebrows. "What's wrong?"

Quickly, he's walking into the livingroom. "Tyler, Zack is calling me."

As soon as he says it, Tyler lets out a sound of displeasure, pulling the blanket over their head again and bringing their face back into Brendon's chest. He can feel them shake their head despite no one able to see.

Josh sighs, sitting down. "I'll answer it."

He slowly presses the accept button on the phone and puts it on speaker, running a hand nervously through his hair, bouncing his leg, and Brendon can't help but begin to feel the same way.

"Hello?" He starts.

"Hey, man." Zack says, and Brendon's heart starts to beat faster. "Did you and Tyler leave early? You never said goodbye."

Josh leans back on the couch. "Yeah, we did. Tyler wasn't feeling good."

**Trigger warning: active misgendering.**

Technically, it isn't a lie, but Brendon knows he means it physically in this case and not mentally like what actually happened. He's a bit shocked Tyler's own brother didn't notice how fucked up they were last night, but he doesn't comment on it, just listening silently.

"Awh, okay." Zack mutters. "Where is Tyler, anyways?"

Josh exhales. "Right here."

Tyler tenses beneath the blanket, and Brendon catches himself tensing as well.

"Think I can talk to him?" Zack asks, and it's almost like everyone loses their breath. Brendon watches the way Josh gulps visibly, and feels how Tyler stills at the word. This overwhelming sense of disgust coarses through Brendon's body and the only thing he feels like doing is throwing up. This is wrong. This is terrible.

Josh breathes in and out. "No. They're sleeping."

There's silence.

"Oh, okay." Zack mumbles. "Well, tell him to call me when he wakes up, please. Or when he has the time."

Josh shakes his head and smiles bitterly. "Okay." He utters. "I have to go, bye."

"Okay, bye."

**Trigger warning over.**

Josh ends the call quickly, letting out a heavy breath and slipping his phone into the pocket of his basketball shorts. Then, he touches Tyler's side through the blanket, and their entire body is trembling. "Baby," he tries.

"I want to go to bed." Tyler whispers. "I want to go to bed."

Brendon's throat feels tight when he can hear how ruined they sound.

"Okay, let's get you to bed." Josh decides.

Tyler nods, carefully taking the blanket off of them and accepting Josh's hand when he offers it. He helps them up from the couch, and without a word, the two of them make their way out of the livingroom and up the stairs.

Brendon decides to stay there, not wanting to disrupt them in any way. Josh can do this, and has probably done it many times. He knows how to take care of them, how to talk to them, how to treat them, how to touch them. Everything. Brendon tries his hardest to follow his lead with stuff like that because he's terrified of messing up.

He sits there longer than he expects, doing nothing, simply staring at the television and running his fingers through Jim's coat. For at least twenty minutes.

It's okay, though.

Josh finally comes back down and carefully sits beside him, grabbing one of the bowls of food. Brendon forgot they were there.

"Sorry, they wanted me to hold them until they fell asleep." He says quietly, taking a bite of food.

Brendon pulls his knees to his chest, resting his chin on top of them. "Their family is horrible." He states. He doesn't need to think about it further because it's so unbelievably evident now. Every little thing they do, it makes him sick. He can't believe Tyler has to go through any of that. They don't deserve it.

Josh swallows, looking at him. "Yeah. They're cunts."

Brendon frowns. "It pisses me off. It makes me sad. I-- why do they still put themself through that, Josh? Tyler. . . They don't," he groans. "They don't need to be around them."

Josh sighs. He places his bowl down and shakes his head. "They're wanting something they can't get. They always have." He touches Brendon's knee. "I've tried to tell them they need to move on, so many times, but it's not easy for them. It's one thing to be accepted by people who come and go, it's one thing to be accepted by your partners, but when it's your own family. . . I don't know. They feel like they need their validation to be happy, and even though it makes them miserable, they don't stop. They want it so bad."

Brendon takes it all in, and breathes it out in a heavy breath. "Are they going to be okay?"

Josh picks his bowl of food up again. "They're getting really dysphoric again." He murmurs.

Brendon huffs. "Um, what. . . What does that mean exactly?"

Josh's lips go crooked in thought. "Because they were assigned male at birth, and people like their family keep misgendering them, they're getting in their head. They're uncomfortable being in their own body." He pauses for a moment, thinking further. "Like a. . . Like a mental conflict. They know how they feel, they're non-binary, but when others don't see that and do things that disagree with those thoughts, it throws them through a loop. A really, really bad thought process. A self-destructive one."

Brendon's chest is so heavy.

"Even then, it doesn't have to be because of what someone else does or says to them. Sometimes, they just feel that way." He swallows thickly. "A lot of the time, they're so uncomfortable with their body that they won't let me touch them. Like their thighs, or anywhere around that area."

Brendon fiddles with his fingers. "So, uh, I should be careful with that?"

Josh nods. "Definitely. Just be careful with everything right now. It gets really bad."

Brendon hates hearing that. He knows it's practically impossible, but he wants the both of them to always be happy and healthy.

"I will," he says.

Josh nods again, picking up the other bowl. "Good. Now, eat. I was making sure they ate right, now I'm making  sure you do."

Brendon exhales, slowly grabbing ahold of the bowl and staring down at it. He's not hungry. If anything, he's lost any appetite he had because of the terrible things that have happened this morning.

He looks back up at Josh.

"Take it at your pace. Just get something in your stomach though, okay?" He places a hand on his knee momentarily.

Brendon breathes. "Okay."