TRIGGER WARNINGS:

- Nausea/throw up
- Descriptions of Brendon's body
- Anxiety/crying over food

Nausea/throw up trigger warning starts right now. I will mark when it is over. Be safe. I always, always want each and every one of you to be safe.

***

When Brendon wakes up in the morning, he wishes he didn't. Immediately, as soon as his eyes blink open once and twice, reality becomes far too overwhelming. Not because of what happened the night before but because of what's happening now.

It's horrible.

Before even considering it either, he's curling into the closest thing he can to a ball, groaning loudly. Unpleasantly. In pain. He fell asleep holding Josh but now Josh is holding him. His arms are so heavy around him that Brendon has a hard time doing something as simple moving. He tries, though. He tries and tries and tries, stirring in his grasp, and that's what leads Josh to wake up.

Brendon only groans again when he sees.

Josh blinks a few times, running a hand over his face. "What's wrong?" He mumbles out.

Brendon shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes. He won't let them fall. "I don't feel good." He whispers.

Josh blinks a few more times to gauge the situation. Brendon's face is tucked into his chest, arms completely around himself, and his voice even trembles while he speaks. "In which way?" He asks gently, running his fingers through his hair.

"My stomach." Brendon gets out. He shakes his head again. "I don't feel good." He repeats.

Josh's heart rate increases. He notices easily. "Do you feel nauseous?"

Brendon nods. Over and over again. His head aches just like his heart. His stomach churns just like his conciousness.

"Let's get you to the bathroom," Josh decides. Brendon nods another time while Josh unwraps his arms from around him and gets off of the bed. He runs a hand down Brendon's side to try and soothe him as well, which only makes the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach worse, but he says nothing. Opposed to doing that, he carefully lifts his head to look at Tyler. They're sound asleep. As far to the edge as possible, still.

It was like they didn't want to touch either of them last night.

They took their sweater off, got under the covers, and moved as far away as they could. Josh didn't try to reach out for them, and neither did Brendon. It's as though they both knew they would be turned down.

"Bren," Josh mumbles, sticking his hand out.

Brendon swallows thickly, shaking himself out of his thoughts. Slowly, he accepts the offer and allows Josh to help him up, which, fuck, makes everything so much worse.

Before he even has time to blink, he's falling onto his shoulder, whimpering.

"Hey, hey," Josh gulps, hand moving up, hand moving down on his back.

Brendon pulls back a little. So dizzy, so overwhelmed. He can't think of anything else. It's coming up. It's actually coming up.

Maybe his face shows it, because he watches as Josh's eyes widen the longer they stand there, panic as clear as day. "Do you need to throw up?" He rushes out.

Brendon doesn't give a single moment to think about it. He nods frantically, slapping a hand over his mouth, and without another second to pass, he's moving into the bathroom. It all happens so fast. He pushes the door open, flicks the light on, and makes sure to lift up the toilet seat as he falls to his knees.

It comes up.

It comes out.

He holds Josh's hoodie strings back, already feeling horrible that this is happening while he's wearing something that's not even his. He coughs, chokes, sniffles. Fingers grasping the edge of the counter, he registers Josh's touch. Rubbing circles into his skin as he pukes up the very few things he has consumed these last couple of days.

He can't even imagine the look on Josh's face right now.

It doesn't last very long though, only because there's not much to throw up in the first place. As soon as he gets it all out of his system, he stays there, panting. Recollecting. Embarrassed.

Josh slowly moves onto the floor with him.

He touches his shoulder. "Do you feel better?"

**Trigger warning over.**

Brendon closes his eyes. Finally, he sits back. Spine against the shower, knees to his chest. He shrugs. "Sorry," he croaks out. His throat is sore. "Sorry. Sorry."

Josh moves closer to him. "Don't apologize."

Brendon needs to. "I'm sorry." He says. He opens his eyes to see Josh's eyebrows pulled together. "I'm sorry."

He's guilty. For many reasons. He wants to do well for him, for Tyler. He wants to show them that they have nothing to worry about, that he's okay, that he'll be fine. He needs to prove that to himself, and maybe this is him apologizing to his own soul as well. He's done everyone wrong. Even Brendon.

"Baby," Josh whispers.

Brendon wants to cry.

He won't. He can't. It would be pathetic at this point-- it already has been pathetic. He's so sensitive.

"I'm sorry."

Josh shakes his head. "Stop saying that." He squeezes his hand. "I'm gonna get you some water."

Brendon sighs but nonetheless nods, and without another word, he curls into himself again once Josh leaves the room. This time, it's on the floor. The tile is freezing cold, water droplets from the shower head fall off, slowly, one by one. It's the only sound he can hear.

He finds himself slipping away into somewhere else. A place where he doesn't have to fret about this. A place where his issues don't exist. A place where he doesn't have to get high to make all the shit dull out. A place where he can let Tyler and Josh touch him without having an anxiety attack. A place where he's focused on life instead of surviving.

It's sounds nice. But, on the twentieth drop, it's where it all stops.

Maybe he'll never get there.

The truth is, this is survival. He has forgotten what it's like to live. He's not sure he ever has lived in the first place.

He has to get high to be at ease because it's only thing that helps anymore. He has to deal with his issues because he's riddled with them. He has anxiety attacks when Tyler and Josh touch him because nothing has ever been so true before. So new.

This is reality, Brendon. "I'm sorry."

"Who are you apologizing to?" He hears.

It's not Josh.

"Myself." Brendon answers numbly.

There's some silence. "Did you eat too much?"

He shrugs.

Tyler exhales heavily, flushing the toilet. "We're going to figure it out." Brendon wishes there was nothing to figure out. "You just need to pace yourself correctly again. It will take time, but it's important. I'm going to help you as much as I can. I'm going to make sure whatever I make is light enough for your stomach."

Brendon nearly dismisses it. "I don't know what's wrong." He mumbles.

Unsurprisingly, Tyler's blatant behavior is shown once again. "You do."

He keeps quiet in return.

It stays like that until Josh comes back into the bathroom. He helps Brendon sit up once again, and afterwards, he's handing him a glass of water.

"Drink some. I'll go run you a bath, yeah?"

Brendon sighs. "I. . . I have to get ready for work."

Josh shakes his head immediately. "You're not going to work today. No way. You just threw up, and honestly, you still don't look like you're doing well. You're going call in and you're gonna stay here."

Brendon blinks a few times, takes sips of water because fuck, his mouth tastes horrible, and then he's looking back up at him. "Okay." He murmurs. He knows he should go, especially after what Mr.Hall had told him about having to stay overtime for missing so much, but he also knows Josh and Tyler aren't going to let him leave.

Josh nods. "You can call after your bath." He decides.

Brendon agrees silently.

His whole body feels heavy. His limbs especially. He's still trembling too, still feeble. Always.

Josh leaves the room once again, but Tyler stays. They just watch him. Stare. And when their eyes subconsciously begin shifting towards the mirror, their Adam's apple bobs.

"Are you okay?" Brendon asks sheepishly.

They have been acting weird ever since they stopped by the apartment complex.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" They wonder. It sounds harsh.

The insecurity that washes their eyes is so clear. They cross their arms over their chest and breathe out, clothes still drowning them. Brendon nearly forgets how they were like when they weren't so ashamed of their body, when they'd walk around the house in just their briefs and a sweater. Slept in their underwear only.

Brendon takes another sip of water. "Please stop doing that." He mutters around the cup.

Tyler blinks. "Stop doing what?"

"Whenever you want to avoid talking about yourself, you throw it onto me. Always." Brendon discloses. Maybe he's just not level-headed, because instead of ending it there, he continues. "I know I have problems. I know you want to know more about me, or make sure I'm okay, but I'd like to do the same for you." He mumbles the last part.

Tyler processes it. Their face softens a little.

They move their arms to their sides. "Sorry." They whisper.

Brendon shrugs. It's so hot.

He tugs at the neckline of his hoodie. Josh's hoodie.

Slowly, Tyler goes to sit beside him on the floor after setting his water aside. They move his head into their lap and run their fingers through his hair, completely ignoring how he's sweating.

"Please stop blocking us out when you're upset." Brendon gets out, throat scratched, aching. "At least Josh. He's trying his best. You completely disregarded that last night."

Maybe Brendon only feels okay to tell them these things because he knows, without a doubt, they would be as honest with him. And that's what Tyler should get. Honesty. That's what they always give. It's the least he can do, especially when it could benefit more than just them.

Tyler exhales. "I know."

"Then why do you do it?" He whispers, eyes falling shut.

"Sometimes I just need to think for myself." They reply.

"That doesn't mean you have to ignore him." Brendon says, exhausted, fatigued.

"I'm selfish." Tyler states.

Brendon opens his eyes once again. He looks up at them and touches their shoulder, grabbing their attention. "Don't say that."

"I was under the impression we're being honest here." They utter, and when they notice that Brendon is at a loss of words, they sigh, continuing. "I need to be alone sometimes. It's hard to do that when you're married. That's not his fault, it's mine. You would think I would get used to having someone with me generally throughout most of my day, but a lot of the time, I don't. I need to be alone, and I can't." Tyler runs their finger over his eyebrow. "I'm not a good person to be with. I've told him this so many times, yet, he denies it. And I'm not using myself being conceited as an excuse, I'm only telling you what I've said to him."

Brendon shakes his head. "You're not conceited."

"Maybe,"

"What are you instead?" Brendon's voice is raspy.

"Insecure." They whisper, numbly.

Brendon isn't surprised. How could he be? It's so unbelievably obvious.

He breathes out, not sure what to say, but that's when Josh walks back in, so it doesn't matter. He looks at the two of them on the floor and smiles with only his lips.

It's bittersweet.

"Ready?" He asks.

Brendon nods although he would much rather stay like this with Tyler than spend an increasingly long time bare and exposed. He'll be okay though, and he needs to give Tyler some space, anyways. As they said, it's what they need.

Josh helps him up after a moment, and as soon as he does, Brendon feels like he's spinning.

It's expected, yet still it throws him completely off.

"What the fuck," he croaks.

The worry on Josh's face is absurd. "Do you need to throw up again?"

Brendon shakes his head, holding onto him tightly to keep his balance. "No-no, I'm just. . . God," he squeezes his eyes shut and leans on his shoulder. "I'm so lightheaded." He whispers brokenly. In frustration, even.

Josh frowns. "I'll help you down the stairs."

Brendon can't think straight by the time Josh gets an arm around his waist and brings another arm over his shoulder. He walks clumsily, but is being lead. It's fine. He's fine. Before he knows it too, he's being sat on the toilet lid in the downstairs restroom.

Josh lets go of him then, brushing his hair back. "Does sitting down help?"

Brendon nods easily, rubbing his eyes. "I feel alright if I'm sitting down. I just am. . . Weak right now. . . I don't know."

Josh looks like he has something to say about that, but instead, he switches the subject. "Let's get you out of these, then." He mumbles, and as he does, he begins lifting Brendon's hoodie and shirt up.

Immediately though, Brendon throws his arms down so he can't. "What are you doing?" He rushes out.

Josh blinks. "I'm helping you out of your clothes,"

Brendon shakes his head, leaning back. "No. Please don't."

Josh slowly pulls his hands away, and as soon as he does, Brendon wraps his arms around himself and rocks side to side subtly. Josh gulps. "Sorry, sorry. I should've asked first. That was uncalled for."

Brendon doesn't look at him. "I can do it myself."

"I know you can." Josh says. "Will you be okay in here alone for a little while?"

Brendon nods.

Josh steps away. "Okay. Just call for me if you need anything." When he only gets another nod in return, he leaves the room, and Brendon immediately makes sure to lock the door behind him.

Then it's quiet.

It's quiet, yes, but only until Brendon finally exhales.

He has been holding his breath subconsciously ever since Josh tried undressing him. His lungs gave up then, overwhelmed at the thought of being even remotely bare in front of someone. Anyone. Especially Josh. A person who is supposed to find him attractive in every way despite Brendon not being able to see that from himself.

He's not ready.

He struggles looking at his own body; he can't imagine anyone else seeing it right now.

At the thought, he sighs.

Brendon grips onto the counter and slowly helps himself up, blinking a few times when his vision begins to speckle with white. It's something that isn't exactly new, but he was able to ignore it for a while. It hasn't ever been this severe.

Meeting eyes with himself in the mirror is saddening. He forgets who this person is because he hasn't bothered to look recently.

This person is depressing to see.

Brendon clears his throat to dismiss it, carefully pulling Josh's hoodie and his shirt over his head. He keeps his eyes closed once the air hits his chest. He keeps his eyes closed when he takes off his sweatpants too, and then his boxers. He even keeps his eyes closed while taking off his socks.

It feels scary to see what he has been missing.

He doesn't want to.

Maybe he won't.

Maybe he needs to.

He does.

Brendon looks.

For the first time in too long, his mind is silent. There's nothing to think, to dwell on, or there is and his only reasonable option is to ignore it.

Brendon inhales and exhales, trailing his fingers along his hip bones with a grotesque stare. He doesn't understand. He doesn't understand. He doesn't see what Tyler and Josh are seeing, what they have stated about his appearance.

He's not thin. Why are they so worried?

It's frustrating.

Nonetheless, he loses focus on himself and instead brings it to the bathtub. He shivers while the water steams.

Brendon's steps towards the tub, careful and nervous. He blinks a few more times because his mind still spins, vision still speckles, but he dips one foot in after the other and slowly lowers himself down until his body no longer shivers, only comforted by the warmth.

It's what he needs. A getaway.

Of course there's things he avoids, like looking down at himself, or thinking too hard about what might have caused such an uproar in his stomach.

For now, he breathes.

That's all it takes.

He closes his eyes another time and sinks further until he's being drowned out. Everything is silent, even his thoughts. That's how he wants it. Likes it. He doesn't want to think anymore. He doesn't want to dwell anymore. He wants to live without worrying, and as bubbles rise, he continues sinking. He has been sinking for a while now, but there was never any freedom, never any self-control.

This time, for once, he has that. In this room, all alone, with nothing but the warmth given to him from another, he has that.

It's what he needs.

***

Once he gets out of the bath and changes, he makes his way to the kitchen where he can hear Tyler and Josh talking to one another. His steps are careful and slow, feeling a little less lightheaded than before, but now he's very cautious. In all honestly, Brendon expects the worst.

"Feeling better?" Josh asks when he sees him walk in.

Brendon shrugs, taking a seat beside him at the table.

Tyler's at the stove like usual, completely entrapped in what they're doing, and Josh is editing photos on his laptop. It's interesting to watch; Brendon finds himself leaning further to understand what it takes. It isn't much, but every click is thoughtful. He enhances some colors to kill out others, adding layers to make things pop, editing out stuff Brendon would never consider needs to be gone.

He's good.

Obviously.

"When are you gonna let me take photos of you, like you promised." Josh smiles, speaking to him but keeping his eyes trained to the screen.

"I didn't promise you anything," Brendon whispers.

Josh hums. "I think you promised me."

Brendon lays his head into his arms, shaking it. "Nope."

There's a sigh. "Don't break your promise, it'll hurt my feelings." He murmurs quietly, moving one of his hands to Brendon's back and running it up and down his spine soothingly.

"Josh," Tyler practically scolds.

"What?"

"Leave him alone, babe." Tyler gets out. "He needs to rest."

Josh huffs, nodding. He moves his hand away from Brendon's back and focuses on his laptop again, leaving the sound of food being cooked to fill the room. Brendon closes his eyes and tries his hardest to breathe through it, the thought of eating, once again, making his head spin in the worst way.

"If I made you something, could you eat it?" Tyler asks suddenly. It's obviously directed towards him, and his stomach churns at just the thought.

Brendon exhales. "I can't." He whispers.

"Are you sure?"

"No, Tyler." He murmurs. "Please. No."

He hears the stove turn off, and after a moment, Tyler's hand is at his shoulder. They kiss the back of his neck and stick their nose in his slightly damp hair. "Okay," they say softly. "Don't worry, I'm not going to pressure you to. But at lunch, you're going to have something. Even just crackers, okay?"

Brendon swallows thickly. "Okay."

Tyler nods against him, pulling away. "Go to the bedroom and rest."

Brendon sighs, lifting his head from his arms and looking up at them. "I. . ." He stops, frowning.

"What's wrong?" They wonder. He watches their eyebrows furrow while they speak.

Brendon shakily grabs ahold of their hand, desperate. "I don't. . ." He sighs. "I don't want to be alone." He's not in the right state of mind. He wants to be held, loved, and he had enough time to recollect while he took a bath. He needs them now. Both of them. One of them.

Tyler brushes his hair back. "I'll be up there once Josh and I finish eating."

Brendon nods. "Okay." He blinks. "Promise?"

Tyler's smile is delicate, like them. "I promise."

Brendon nods another time. Without a word, Tyler helps him up from the seat and afterwards kisses his shoulder. It's subtle, but loving, and needed. It's always so needed.

"Don't forget to call in sick." They remind.

"Yeah," Brendon mumbles, letting go of them.

He takes a few steps forward, getting used to the feeling, getting comfortable with the emptiness. Jim doesn't bother to follow him up the stairs either; he's too concentrated finishing everything in his bowl to do that. So, Brendon continues. Each step is careful, every breath is heavy. Once he makes it into the bedroom and gets comfortable beneath the blankets, he reaches for his phone, going through his contacts. This is not the first time, and definitely not the last.

He feels like a robot by the time someone picks up. It isn't his boss, so his nerves settle a little, and every excuse falls out like he has something to hide.

Maybe he does.

The woman-- an assistant-- assures Brendon she will make sure to tell Mr.Hall, and afterwards, is wishing him well.

Brendon says thank you. He needs luck to pull him through.

Once the call ends and he sets the phone aside, he, once again, curls in on himself. He has the blankets pulled to his neck and tries to find comfort and warmth without the only two people who are willing to give it to him. It's hard. Or he is needy.

Probably the latter.

He closes his eyes then. All he is able to hear is himself breathing in, and breathing out. Reminding him of his awful presence. It's dreadful. He's dreadful. And still, after all this time-- what is it now, nearly three months?-- he still doesn't understand how Tyler and Josh are interested in him. They don't deserve him, and not in the way that makes it seem like he's better than them, no, it's the exact opposite. He is so much worse than the both of them. He is so much more horrendous.

Tyler and Josh are a pity gifts from God, Brendon would say. To make him believe he's worth more than he actually is.

It isn't working.

Brendon groans into the pillow when tears start to well up in his eyes-- he's so fucking sensitive.

How much longer will Tyler and Josh put up with this before they decide it's enough? The clock is ticking, Brendon can hear it. Tick. . . Tick. . . Tick. . . He's waiting for the ding. The pain. The heartbreak. The truth. The elephant.

A tear slips down his cheek. It's called for.

He wipes it away although it's no use. They keep coming, always, always, they keep coming.

Brendon is just dissapointed with himself. That's what it is. He's disappointed because for so long he has struggled, but for once, it felt like he was overcoming, and that he was finally getting better. But of course, he can't ever be happy. Brendon can't ever live without a burden. He was born with these nuisances, and he will die with them.

It started with his anxiety, and anxiety leads to so much more. It's like a gateway to the inevitable torture his body, his mind, will always go through.

Right now, it's both of them, but isn't it always? Maybe this time his body is taking more of a toll than his mind, but he doesn't see it. He can't. He doesn't believe it-- are his eyes deceiving him? They aren't. Maybe his mind? It couldn't be.

He isn't thin. He knows. So why don't Tyler and Josh?

His mind aches.

More tears fall.

All he feels capable of is crying then. He keeps it quiet; he forgot to close the door and he doesn't want to disrupt anyone else. He needs to deal with the pain. He can't help but feel it is well deserved.

Brendon practically gasps when he registers nimble fingers softly grip his arm, and a body slide onto the bed beside him. Tyler. Tyler, Tyler, Tyler. He sniffles at the thought, knowing he needs to be strong in front of them right now, but for the life of him, he cannot.

Wordlessly, they turn him around so Brendon faces them, and wordlessly, they brush his tears away with their thumbs.

"I told myself I wouldn't cry today," he whispers.

Tyler shakes their head. They stare at one another, back and forth, and while Brendon is blinking, they kiss his lips. It's so gentle, so lovely, and Brendon knows he doesn't deserve it. But, he's selfish, and he will take anything he gets as long as it benefits him.

"You have every right to cry right now." Tyler tells him. "It's not going to be easy to understand, to overcome, but Josh and I both know you can do it. I want to like your body again even though I've never seen it."

Brendon feels terrible. "You. . . You don't like my body?"

Tyler brushes his hair back, exposing his blotchy face. "Not when it's being deprived of its basic needs."

Brendon cries. Still. More. "I-I want you to like my body."

"I know. I know." They whisper. "Do you like your body?"

**Trigger warning: descriptions of Brendon's body begin here.**

Brendon whimpers, shoving his face into their chest. He heaves against them, sobs, shakes his head. "No. No. No."

"So it's time to love it. Time to not be afraid to take your shirt off, or flinch when I touch your back." Brendon is confused. Does he do that? He has never noticed. "It's time for Josh and I not to have to worry about how much your spine sticks out, or how we can feel your hip bones when you hold us."

Brendon shakes his head more. Trying to ignore everything coming from their mouth. It's not true. It's not. He was just looking in the mirror and noticed none of these things. He lives in his own skin-- these problems are nonexistent.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

Brendon says nothing. Maybe if he pretends he doesn't hear them, they won't prod.

"Give me your hand." They say.

Brendon says nothing, still.

"Give me your hand." Tyler repeats.

There's some silence, and some consideration. Of course Tyler isn't going to stop until they get what they want. They're going to demand, and demand, and demand, so he might as well give in.

And, he does.

He lifts his hand, allowing Tyler to grab ahold of it. They keep quiet while they guide him, and he knows what they're doing, he knows why his heart rate increases, yet, he does nothing. He submits as usual. It's a natural repsonse when it comes to them.

Tyler moves his hand to his hip.

Brendon continues hiding in their chest.

"Do you feel it?" They wonder.

"Tyler--"

"You don't have to look to really see. Your eyes will play tricks on you to make you believe you're alright. Use touch, your other senses." They mutter, moving his hand around it. "Do you feel it? Don't lie to me, either."

Brendon sniffles, shaking his head. "I can't do this."

"You need to." Tyler replies. "Breathe. You're okay with me. I know you haven't accepted it yet, that's the biggest step."

Brendon can't stop crying. "I-I have accepted it."

"Accepted what?"

"That I have a problem." Brendon whispers.

"No you haven't." Tyler says, easily. It's brutal, but somehow, it's not harsh. It's exactly what Brendon needs to hear. "I want you to feel what Josh and I feel, and I want you to tell me why we're concerned. I'm not saying this because I want to hurt your feelings, you know that, I'm saying this because it's going to put it in perspective for you."

Brendon's soul is trapped between his mind and Hell. It's practically the same place, though.

He nods.

Tyler does too. "So tell me," they whisper, holding his hand down on his hip.

His Adam's apple bobs. "They're. . . They're sticking out. . . Really, really bad." He croaks out, muffled by how far he has his face pressed into their shirt.

"Yes." Tyler agrees. "And that's usually normal, but not this bad." They move his hand to run to his waist, and then back down. A few times. "You see, they're sticking out so much that it goes from your hip bone straight to the dip in your waist. There's almost nothing else there anymore. Do you notice that?"

Brendon's breath stutters when he opens his mouth. "Yeah,"

Tyler nods, moving his hand to touch his spine instead. "What about now?"

"It's-it's sticking out a lot, too." Brendon whispers.

"A lot." Tyler emphasizes.

"A lot."

Tyler nods another time. They bring his hand to their mouth and kiss the back of it a couple of times. "It's bad, Bren. I hope you know that doesn't mean you should give up on yourself though. Josh and I will help as much as we possibly can, but you also need to help yourself too."

**Trigger warning over.**

Brendon wraps his arms around them. He knows he's safe with Tyler. No matter how much he hates this.

"I care about you too much to see you do this to your body. You're so beautiful. Physically and mentally, you don't deserve this." They hold the back of his head, knowing exactly how to calm him down. They always do.

"I don't deserve you and Josh." Brendon utters.

"You deserve people better than us." Tyler says, without a second to pass.

"There's no one better than you two." Brendon expresses. It's true-- besides Carina, of course-- but he'll let that pass.

Tyler shakes their head. "You're such a good guy. We got lucky." Before Brendon could respond, they continue. "You do understand what I just made you do that for, right? I don't want you to pass it off."

Brendon's throat is tight, aching. Still. "I understand."

Tyler nods. "Okay." They whisper.

"If I go back to sleep will you hold me?" Brendon asks quietly, brokenly, desperately.

"Always." They respond. "Dallon is coming at ten so you have a few hours. I'll have to go to the livingroom once he's here." They twirl a strand of his hair around their finger, lips against his forehead while they speak. It's calming him down, slowly but surely.

"Who's Dallon?"

"The person I've been working with." They state.

Brendon frowns at that, only because he knows how much that guy's presence makes Tyler uncomfortable. "Okay."

Neither of them say anything after that. Tyler slowly gets under the covers with Brendon, and naturally, they pull his leg up to rest at their thigh. He doesn't mind, and they don't seem to either, which makes him feel a little better considering it seems like he's gaining their trust more and more. He's completely wrapped around them. Clinging.

It's okay.

When his breath begins to labor and the tears stop falling, Josh comes in. He says nothing, probably under the assumption that Brendon is sleeping, but Tyler watches him. Mindlessly, their fingers run through Brendon's hair still, but very consciously, they observe every move their husband makes.

Brendon moves his head a little to look up from Tyler's chest and do the same.

Josh undresses. One after the other until his chest is exposed and his thighs keep Brendon's mind running, and before he can walk into the closet to grab something else to wear, Tyler reaches an arm out for him.

Of course, he's at their side in just seconds.

Fingers intertwining, Tyler pulls him forward until they kiss. It's tender, gentle, but somehow hungry. Josh leans away after a moment yet Tyler brings him back for more, and all Brendon can do is listen. Listen to the absolute lust that aches in their hearts, listen to how much they want each other like there was no tension between them last night.

Or maybe that's why they're so hungry for each other. A different kind of tension.

Tyler lets go of his hand and trails it down his backside. Both of their eyes are hooded, and Josh even bites his lip when Tyler provokes it. Provokes it in a way that makes Brendon's heart race a little, only because the two of them are so shameless. He's right here, well aware of everything, yet that doesn't stop either of them.

Josh shakes his head though, so Tyler pulls their hand away.

He leans back down to whisper something in their ear. Brendon can't catch a thing, but he doesn't need to, because he's been with them long enough to where he knows what's happening.

So, when Tyler nods with small smirk on their face, and Josh walks off to the closet with the same look, Brendon eases down. Tyler gets comfortable once again, holding Brendon's leg at their side and pulls his face from their chest until they are looking back at one another.

Brendon blinks, they do too.

"Did you brush your teeth?" They whisper so quietly.

Brendon nods. He used his fingers because he didn't feel like going to get his toothbrush from his bag, but he did. The taste in his mouth was disgusting.

Tyler hums, using their free hand to hold his chin. "When is the last time you made out with someone?" They then ask, and he should have guessed this is where the conversation was being lead, but still it takes him by surprise.

He knows, yet, he only feels capable of shrugging. Embarrassed. Overwhelmed.

Tyler nods, eyes glancing to the closet to watch Josh change, but they shift right back to focus on Brendon. "You have perfect lips," they suddenly admit. "I think about them all the time. And I want them all the time."

Brendon's heart skips a beat. "Tyler,"

"Sorry." They whisper.

Brendon shakes his head, eyes falling shut when they pull softly at a piece of his hair. "It's okay." He murmurs. "I. . . I feel the same way about yours." He gets out, and immediately, his cheeks heat up.

Tyler smiles. "Good."

Before either of them could say anything else, Josh walks back over to the bed in a pair jeans and a baby blue long sleeve. "I'll see you soon." He utters. He kisses Tyler's cheek, and when he notices that Brendon is still awake, he kisses his forehead. "Get some rest, babe."

Brendon nods.

Before Josh can walk out the door, Tyler touches his hand and says, "Tell Ash I said hi."

The corner of his lips turn upwards. "I will." He assures. "I love you."

"I love you too."

And with that, Josh leaves the room, allowing Tyler and Brendon to fall back into the conversation they had just been in. Though, it's a slow build. Tyler leans close enough to where their lips barely rest against his, and their noses are soft as they touch.

"Would you be opposed to it? Or is now the wrong time." They continue.

Brendon feels their breath. "Maybe."

Tyler blinks a few times, keeping Brendon's attention locked in their captavating eyes. "It's okay, you can always tell me when to stop. You need to."

"But what about Josh?" He whispers in return.

"Would you really want to make out with two people opposed to one right now? You could barely handle getting a hickey." Tyler states, and it's true, but still it feels almost wrong without Josh. This relationship is supposed to be the three of them. When will it be? Or is he even ready for that.

"Go slow. I'll tell you when to stop." Brendon decides.

Maybe he just needs this as reassurance right now.

Tyler doesn't love his body, but if he can convince them he's good enough in some way, everything will be better. He's good. He needs to be good. Brendon will give them all he has until he's out.

"Okay," Tyler mumbles. "Tell me yes."

"Yes." Brendon breathes.

As soon as the word no longer lingers, he watches Tyler's eyes close, and so he follows suit. Their fingers still tangle in his hair, and just when he's about to worry how nothing has happened, he feels them.

It's simple at first. A peck. A few, actually, but then they angle their head and lean further. Breathe him in, breathe him out. They taste like coffee, which he can't help but wonder if he missed out on, and at the thought, he timidly begins to suck at their bottom lip. He's deprived, in need, and Tyler is willing.

They grip at his hair, push further, and Brendon's heart drops, shakes, stops, when he feels their tongue intrude.

His gasp is embarrassing, but Tyler seems to love it.

Brendon gives up before he can even try, allowing them to gain control, allowing them to do whatever they possibly can with him. It's natural at this point. A given. And despite this, he lets out such a meek noise when their hand travels from his chin to his ass, gripping it as they lick into his mouth.

"Ty," Brendon whispers against them, flushed completely.

"Glad to know one part of you isn't deprived." They murmur.

Brendon pulls back a little, almost in shock, mostly because he's overwhelmed. He examines their features, how slick their lips are, how hooded their eyes have become, how heated their face is.

It's not enough. He's not enough for them yet.

"More." He declares.

Tyler takes into account everything. They probably know what he's doing. Trying to prove himself for them. Yet, he knows they're losing control over themself, and they aren't going to stop until it's clear.

They keep going.

Brendon's moan is soft and sweet when Tyler pulls at his hair and devours him like a meal, a meal he can't bear the thought of anymore. They're going, and pushing, and wanting, and tasting-- they pull his leg up until their crotches meet. It's accidental, definitely, in the moment, but instantly, something switches. It isn't hungry anymore, it's sheepish and aware.

Brendon's eyes well up with tears when Tyler leans away.

They have shrunk. Lost that confidence.

"What's wrong," they get out quietly when they notice his façade.

"Am I enough yet?" He whispers.

Tyler's panting subtly. Their eyes are like his, but their body is much more apprehensive now. They move until the closeness between their bottom halves is nonexistent. "You're always enough. More than enough. I'm sorry."

Brendon shakes his head. "I'm sorry." He says. "I should've said no."

"There's always things we could have done," Tyler mumbles. "But the mistake falls on me. I need to stop taking advantage of certain situations for my own benefit. It's hard. I'm sorry. I'm not. . . I'm not used to waiting. I'll wait for you though, I promise. You can tell Josh and I when you're ready instead of me making that decision. It's wrong of me to do this, especially when you're going through something right now. I'm terrible."

Brendon sighs. "We're so fucked."

Tyler chuckles, sniffling. They nod. "I know."

Brendon watches the way the sun peaks through the curtains and catches their eye, making the glassy look break his heart. They're so hurt. So lost. Maybe Josh is right when he says they need therapy.

Brendon leans forward at the thought, placing the softest, most meaningful kiss on their cupid's bow. "Hold me." He whispers.

"I will. I will." They breathe in, recollecting, and they breathe out, forgetting.

"It's okay, Tyler." Brendon reassures. "It's okay."

He knows there's more they want to say, but he supposes for now they're passive, trying to make it up to him by giving him what he actually wants. He doesn't want lust, he doesn't want tongue, he doesn't want to be groped, he doesn't want sex. He wants to feel safe. Needed. Loved. Cared for.

"I have you." They murmur, arms tightening around him as Brendon sticks his face back into their chest.

He nods. Trying to believe it. Knowing it's true, but every nuisance is louder than what he has began to learn.

He and Tyler fall asleep eventually. At least, he does. He wouldn't doubt that guilt keeps them awake, or that their own problems are becoming more and more clear the longer their relationship lasts. Brendon can't help but feel as though Tyler needs more comfort than he does at times, because, in a way, it seems as though they struggle more than he does.

Of course, he would never admit that.

***

When Brendon wakes up, he's relieved to know his stomach isn't twisting unpleasantly, but immediately panics when he can't feel Tyler holding him any longer. He pushes himself up from his elbows and looks around the room frantically, vision still a little blurry, mind still a little cloudy.

They're not here.

Though, that's when he remembers what they had said earlier.

At the thought, Brendon grabs his phone from the beside table and checks the time. It's almost noon. Past ten, which means that guy-- Dallon-- is here.

For some reason Brendon's immediate response is to go downstairs. Not to see how things are going, or try and eat some lunch, no. He needs to make sure Tyler is doing okay, because god, he knows more than anyone else that they weren't hanging in there well at all yesterday. In a sense, he wants to protect them. As much as he possibly can, that is.

So, with that in mind, he slips his glasses on and leaves the room.

He's feeling a little more stable than before, able to take clearer steps and walk without worrying he's going to fall over. Still, he's timid, just in case, and by the time he gets to the bottom of the staircase and sees the two of them at the couch, he feels weak.

Dallon is the first person to see him, but once he stares for too long, Tyler turns to look at him as well.

They give a gentle smile. "Hey,"

Brendon keeps quiet. Without a word, he moves towards them until he's sitting down behind them, carefully wrapping his arms across their chest. While he lays his head against their back, makes sure they know he's here for them, Tyler touches his hand. Silently thanking him. He can feel the way they're trembling, subtly.

Dallon can't keep his eyes off Brendon. It looks like he has something to say, but isn't willing to get it out, and so each of them pass it off. Continue. He and Tyler go back to their previous conversation, and Brendon stays exactly how he is. Wrapped around Tyler. Clinging. Giving his best attempt at protecting them.

And, somehow, listening to Tyler and Dallon speak quietly to one another makes Brendon's clouded mind exhausted once more.

He falls asleep, again.

Against Tyler.

In the middle of their work.

He doesn't understand why he's so tired, but fuck, he is.

***

The next time Brendon wakes up, it's because he can hear Dallon gathering everything together to leave. He's throwing paper, and pens, and notes, and his laptop all into a messenger bag before standing up from the couch, walking towards the entrance.

It's when Brendon blinks a few times where he notices that he has moved. He's still with Tyler, but instead of being wrapped around them, they've moved his head into their lap. And his glasses are off now. They must have set them aside like last time; he can't help but feel heartwarmed by that.

Though, when Tyler speaks up, Brendon closes his eyes. Pretends he's still asleep.

"See you later." Is all they say. It's terse.

"Yeah," Dallon murmurs. There's a pause, and when Brendon considers that he's leaving, he continues. "Who is he, anyways? Are you and Josh still getting with other people?" He chuckles a bit at the end. It's not until now Brendon realizes Tyler has been playing with his hair, but, their fingers freeze when they register what he says.

Tyler uses their other hand to touch his arm. Gentle, yet possessive. "No." They state. "He's our boyfriend."

Brendon's heart skips a beat as soon as it's said. He even flushes a little, hoping that Tyler doesn't notice, hoping that they're only saying that to get Dallon off of their back.

He's not opposed to it, but he still has no idea whether he's ready or not, and that's why it's so menacing.

Another pause. "Alright." Dallon gets out.

This time, Dallon actually gets ready to leave. Brendon can hear his hand grip onto the door handle, and yet, Tyler sits up straighter. There's more they need to say. He knows.

And, he's right.

"We're not going to fuck again." They suddenly announce.

The silence is overwhelming. Brendon's heart aches in trepidation.

There's a sigh. "I know."

Tyler continues running their fingers through Brendon's hair. Trying to ease themself down like they usually do. "Then stop looking at me like we're going to." They mutter, the coldness in their voice is so harsh, but needed. Brendon is surprised they haven't told him this sooner. "I've invited you into my home, I'd like more respect. What happened in the past was in the past. I'm being nice enough to help you with this project, so I'd like it if you would be nice enough to have some decency. It's not going to happen, ever again. Please understand that."

The determination in their tone strikes something else within Brendon, and maybe that's because he knows how much they have been struggling with this, but also because it shows that they really are the bigger person.

"You're right. I'm sorry." Dallon decides. "It's wrong of me. Thank you for helping me with this though, I do appreciate it. I promise I won't let my immaturity get in the way of us working well together."

Tyler finally lays back, settling down. "Okay."

There's an exhale, an insecurity. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yes." They murmur. "Bye, Dallon."

The apprehension speaks volumes. "Bye, Tyler." He ends up saying, and with that, he's gone.

Brendon feels like he's able to breathe again.

"You can stop pretending you're asleep now." Tyler pipes up once the silence is unbearable, and Brendon doesn't know why he's so suprised that they could tell. Of course they could. They catch everything, even when the subtly of it is large.

Brendon slowly opens his eyes.

When Tyler catches his anxiety surrounding everything, they run their thumb over his jaw. "Sorry." They whisper. "I felt better getting that out with you here with me."

Brendon holds onto their hand, looking up at them. "I'm glad."

Tyler nods. "My guardian angel." They murmur.

Brendon's nerves get the best of him. "Your boyfriend?"

Though, Tyler shakes their head. "I just needed him to know you're off limits. And so is Josh. And so am I." They assure, still running their finger over his skin. "You don't have to be our boyfriend yet, don't worry. Not until you know you're ready."

Brendon exhales out of relief. "I. . . I don't think I'm ready yet."

Tyler nods again. "That's okay."

Brendon nods too, eyes closing, enjoying the utter safety he's in.

But that's until Tyler speaks up again. "Josh will be home soon. I'll start cooking then." As soon as it's said, the anxiety piles right back up, and Brendon's immediate response is to hide. He scoots closer to Tyler and sticks his face into the lower part of their stomach, their abdomen, and quickly, Tyler pulls their hand away from his face. "Uh," is all they get out, but it's how uncomfortable they sound that instantly grabs Brendon's attention.

He moves away. "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry."

Tyler's Adam's apple bobs, hand shakily moving to hold his arm.

They inhale and exhale, nodding to themself, trying to calm down after a mistake Brendon wouldn't have noticed if they never spoke up. Which, he feels terrible about. Their trust was being built so quickly, and he knows this must have destroyed most of the process.

"Hey," Tyler whispers. They always seem to catch when his mind begins running. "It's okay. It happens."

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't do it on purpose. It's okay." They reassure. "Just, uh, please be more careful."

Brendon nods. "Yeah. I will."

Tyler nods with him. "Want to watch Netflix until Josh gets back?"

It helps Brendon recognize that these things do indeed happen, and instead of prioritizing them, he needs to learn. He will, of course he will, so he tells Tyler yes. They help him find a place in their lap where they feel comfortable letting him rest at, afterwards, they choose which show to watch. They end up getting invested in one about some man who paints. That's all it is. Brendon has never seen to before, but for some reason, he's so invested that he barely blinks. He and Tyler watch a wilderness slowly begin to bloom on screen, one paint stroke after another. It's nice, needed, and Brendon can't help but feel they put this on purposefully.

It's relaxing. It's calming both of them down, too.

They watch nearly three episodes before Josh finally comes home.

Jim-- who Brendon didn't realize was on his chair this entire time-- perks up when he walks in. Tail wagging, tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Josh smiles widely when seeing him, and when he looks the other way and catches Tyler and Brendon on the couch, he's even more content.

Brendon sits up to give him room, watching as he sets his camera down onto the coffee table before anything else. It comes as no suprise when he looks to Tyler as they reach their arms out, wordlessly questioning their offer. With only their eyes, the two of them speak back and forth, and somehow the consent is clear because Josh does sit down in their lap, wrapping his arms around their neck.

Tyler sticks their nose into his chest, breathing him in, holding him tight.

"Did everything go well with Dallon?" Josh wonders.

Tyler nods. "I told him."

"Good." Josh kisses the top of their head; Brendon watches in a haze. "How'd it go?"

"He told me he knows, and that he apologizes and won't let it get in the way of us working together." Tyler explains, making Brendon realize that yes, of course he wasn't the only one to know about their problem with Dallon. Obviously Josh knows as well. "I just don't understand why he thinks we would have sex with him again. Or that I would, at least."

Josh chuckles, shaking his head. "If I didn't already have you, I'd want you too."

Tyler rolls their eyes. "Shut up."

"It's not my fault you're a total catch." Josh mutters.

"He doesn't think I'm a catch," Tyler says, looking back at the TV. "He just knows I'm good in bed."

Brendon blushes while they say it, slowly pulling the hoodie over his head to cover his face, trying to focus on the show instead. It's too real, too overwhelming, too new. Too much. Or maybe he's absolutely pathetic-- no, that's definitely what it is. He can't even hear about sex without becoming nervous.

Josh hums. "How can he be so wrong and so right at the same time?" He jokes.

Tyler cracks a smile. "I can't stand you." They whisper, meeting his eyes once more.

Josh smiles as well. "I bet." He murmurs, leaning closer until their lips meet. It's slow, like it usually is, and tender, like it usually is. The lust is there once again, to no one's surprise, and the hunger is as well. Brendon watches although the only sound he can hear is the beat of his heart, seeing the way they're so natural with one another, knowing exactly where to touch, knowing exactly how to treat the situation. "Missed you," Josh says against their lips, tasting them one more time before pulling away.

He looks to Brendon then, and Brendon's face flushes even more.

"Missed you too." He says to him.

Brendon can't get a single thing out. He blinks, stutters, swallows thickly.

Josh smiles, leaning towards him until he's able to taste his light opposed to Tyler's.

Brendon can't think straight-- Brendon can't think at all. His immediate repsonse is to hold the back of Josh's head and push forward, gasping a little when one of Josh's hands move to his thigh. It's the second time today, and his first time since senior year. The first time in well over ten years since someone else's tongue has met his own, besides Tyler's, of course. And unlike earlier this morning, it's so much better. It's not forced, it's not for conformation, it's not pressured, it's natural. Something Brendon actually wants instead of feeling like he needs to do for someone else's satisfaction.

Josh moves out of Tyler's lap and slides into his own, giving Brendon control this time, allowing him to take it at his own pace.

He's overwhelmed in the best way.

Josh whimpers slightly when Brendon nibbles at his lip; he doesn't know why he does it, but for some reason, it needs no explanation.

Though, Brendon pulls away a little from anxiety that he's doing something wrong, yet, the way Josh looks back at him with so much certainty reassures him before he even speaks up.

Still, for clarity, he says, "Keep going."

Brendon's pulse is deafening. "Okay." He whispers.

He looks to Tyler carefully before anything else, and he's surprised to see them slightly flushed as well. It's not because of embarrassment, no, it's all from pleasure. And drive. And desire.

Maybe Brendon needs this.

He looks away, focusing back on Josh, practically swooning over his beauty. He's pink, nose to cheeks, lips to heart. He stares into Brendon's eyes like he's able to give him everything he needs, and somehow, that's the one reassurance he has been missing. Can he really do that for him? Is he actually enough? He can only hope so.

Josh reaches to touch his neck, right where Tyler has him marked. "Give me one." He murmurs, eyes twinkling.

Brendon has never given anyone a hickey.

Ever.

Yet, for some reason, he breathes out, "Okay."

Josh smiles. He's so good, so perfect, so right. Everything about him is what Brendon has been missing, and although he loves being around Tyler, he needs Josh too. It's exactly what makes the puzzle complete, from his sharp canine teeth to the way his curling hair is ongoing.

Brendon gently pushes him back until his head rests in Tyler's lap, everything feeling surreal as Josh wraps his legs around him. He must have taken his shoes off at the entry, because he runs his socked foot down his backside before resting it at his thigh, looking up at Brendon with so much lust, but also trust, and that's the most important part.

Brendon leans down to kiss him. Softly. Safely. He does it a few times before trailing it lower, down, down, until he reaches the space right between Josh's neck and his throat.

Brendon thinks back on the day prior, trying to remember exactly what Tyler did, using that memory as guidance because it's all he has.

So, he follows it.

He timidly licks Josh's skin there, still holding the back of his head for some leverage. It's odd, and he worries that he's doing it all wrong, so he starts sucking instead. He doesn't mind that his nose digs into his own saliva, or how Tyler is watching and is able to catch every mistake he makes, because when he throws those thoughts aside, he's able to focus on Josh. How Josh is enjoying it. Is praising him with his body.

He sucks on sensitive skin. Yet, he's quickly under the assumption that Josh is just as sensitive.

His hands grip at Brendon's sides, a soft, delicate moan ripping from his chest while his body trembles from pleasure beneath him.

Brendon has always seen Josh as someone who is much bigger than him, but right now, that's changing. He's never seen him this small, or submissive, and he wonders if this is how he actually is.

It's taken him long enough to realize that.

He's far too concentrated on making Josh feel good to catch the way he and Tyler are interacting. Josh is looking up at them with hooded eyes, pupils blown, and lips slick. His jaw drops instantly when Brendon begins to nibble at his skin, a hand searching for Tyler's until he finds it. He grips it tightly, needing them, thriving off the pleasure knowing he no longer has one person, but two.

Brendon is thriving as well.

Something has overcome him.

When he sucks at the skin at his neck one more time, he pulls away, staring in awe when seeing the absolute wrecked state Josh is in.

"Sorry, I-I. . . Did I do it wrong?" He worries.

Josh opens his eyes, smiling lazily up at him. "Not at all." He assures. He pulls Brendon down until they're chest to chest, wrapping his free arm around him, letting their bodies mend together. "You're usually not supposed to nibble because it hurts, but I like the pain."

Brendon's heart is racing. "Oh," he croaks out.

"You did so well." Josh suddenly whispers, snuggled into his neck.

"You're hard to resist." Brendon says, joking, overwhelmed-- what the fuck is happening.

Josh chuckles. "Damn, who is this new Brendon?"

He gets no response, but he doesn't need one. Tyler uses their other hand to run through Brendon's hair, probably knowing too well that this is a lot to take in after what happened between them earlier today. This was better though; he didn't need to prove himself this time. All he could think about was making Josh feel good, and he did that. He reached that goal.

"Tyler's having a field day." Josh mutters, laughing breathily against him, in an absolute haze.

"Why's that?" Brendon wonders. Sheepish.

"They love watching."

Brendon keeps quiet once again, not sure what else to say. Though, it seems like he doesn't need to, because Tyler sits up from the couch.

"Where are you going?" Josh asks once he pulls his head out of Brendon's neck.

"I need to make dinner." They say.

They must have forgotten about lunch, which Brendon can't help but feel grateful for. Hopefully he can get at least something down though, to reassure Josh and Tyler, to reassure himself.

There's a pause. "Chicken noodle soup, Bren?"

Brendon inhales, exhales, inhales. "Yeah." Exhales.

"Okay." Tyler replies, walking out of the livingroom and into the kitchen.

Brendon's heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest. It's aching. He's aching. It always is a rollercoaster of emotions when he's with Josh and Tyler, and his high just dropped to a major low.

Of course though, Josh notices. "Wanna see something?"

"What is it?" Brendon mumbles.

Josh only smiles, pulling away and carefully standing up from the couch. He looks down at Brendon, who is there like a storm cloud, but reaches his hands out to help him up. He accepts, obviously, and keeps quiet as Josh leads him down the hallway and into the computer room.

"Remember when I was telling you about my Tyler folder," He brings up, sitting down at his desk.

Brendon nods.

"I want you to see." He says.

Brendon bites his lip after he nods another time, looking for a place to sit as well. He decides to use Tyler's desk chair, scooting it next to Josh's, and leans his head onto his shoulder while he watches his mouse move on the screen. Once he finds what he's looking for and clicks on it, Brendon's eyes widen to see how many pictures there are.

"There's a lot, I know." Josh chuckles. "They used to let me take pictures of them all the time."

Brendon's eyes scan everything. They're all too small to really see. "Show me your favorites."

Josh hums. He scrolls a little bit, looking, scrolling, looking, scrolling. Then, he clicks on one, and Brendon sees the way Josh's smile creeps onto his face.

"These are from when we first got together." Josh says. "Around their birthday, I think. Before they started shaving their head, before they came out to their family." Josh clicks on the next one.

He continues going through it.

And then, when he gets to the last one, Brendon can't help but smile just like him, because he's heartwarmed. It's so obvious how unbelievably in love Josh is with them. Even just looking at pictures of Tyler puts the most charming grin on his face.

"What'd you say to get them to smile like that?" Brendon wonders.

"Probably something dirty." Josh admits.

Brendon shakes his head, dismissing it. He's not phased at this point. He knows how they are, what entertains them, how they make one another laugh and he can only adjust to it as well. Slowly but surely, he has.

The next twenty minutes or so, Josh shows Brendon the majority of the photos. It's weird seeing how much Tyler has change just physically. Their demeanor used to be so carefree, now it's hard to pull a smile from them. It's not until Josh shows him photos of after they came out to their family where the change is drastic. It's clear when they reached that point in their life, because those easy smiles turned into a monotonous façade and dead eyes.

But, with the bad also comes the good. It also shows when they started to express themself more.

They shave their head, and it stays shaved throughout the rest of the photos. Their clothes become more like what Brendon is used to seeing them in now, and what catches him completely off guard is when the next one is of Tyler wearing lipstick.

A deep, deep red.

"Oh," Brendon murmurs.

Josh nods. "I know." He turns to look at Brendon, cracking up when he sees his flushed expression. "You like that a lot, don't you?"

Brendon hides his face with his sweater paws. "They just look really good. . ." He whispers.

Josh hums. "If only you saw the other Tyler folder." He says beneath his breath.

Brendon definitely, definitely knows what that means, and he also definitely, definitely knows he is not ready to see that. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Not when it's hard enough just getting in a heated kiss with them, not when he's overwhelmed with something as simple as seeing them with lipstick on.

"Do they, uh. . . Do they still wear makeup?" He wonders, trying to shift the conversation.

"Oh, yeah." Josh shrugs. "They haven't in a while, but I'm sure they will soon." He purses his lips, sitting back in his chair to contemplate whether or not he should continue. He does. He always does. "After their really bad dysphoric episodes, they usually go all out. It's empowering for them, you know, like a fuck you to everyone including their own insecurities."

"Go all out?"

Josh shrugs another time. "They like the thought of taking clothes that are typically for a certain sex and making it their own. Messing with standards." He smiles at the thought, looking to Brendon once again. "Don't be surprised if you wake up one morning and they're in a skin-tight dress and haven't shaved their legs."

Brendon can't help but smile, too. "They're crazy."

"And I love it." Josh utters.

Brendon nods. "I do too." He whispers.

Their diversity used to scare him, but now it's something he finds comfort in. If Tyler's willing to wear a dress with some briefs right under, then Brendon can have his nails painted. Or be naturally submissive without having to live up to the regular standards of a man. He can be himself and not have to worry, because although it shifts sometimes, Tyler's conciousness is so much more carefree than what it once was, and his should be too.

Before anything else could be said, there's a knock at the door.

Tyler carefully walks in. "Dinner's done." They say, softly, careful for Brendon.

He and Josh both nod in sync, eyes still trained on the screen. Brendon wants to look through every photo until there's no more left, it seems like a good way to spend his time, but he knows it's not going to happen.

When Tyler notices neither of them make any move to get up, they walk further into the room until they can wrap their arms around their husband from behind.

"So you finally decided to show him." They murmur in his ear.

"Should've done it sooner." Josh says.

Tyler hums, looking up to stare at the screen as well. "Thanks for keeping it PG." They joke, hand gently gripping his pec.

"Nothing about you is PG." Josh quips back.

Tyler chuckles, pulling their arms away from him, standing up straight. "I'm naturally rated R. It's not my fault." They get out. Slowly, they walk back over to the door. "Now get up. It's time to eat."

Brendon swallows thickly at that, but does as told, knowing it's for the best. Tyler and Josh only ever want the best for him. So, he stands, walking out of the room with Josh once he turns his computer off, heading into the kitchen instead.

Tyler has made a big pot full of soup, leaving three bowls out for each of them.

Brendon stares down at it like it has eyes.

"Get as much as you're comfortable with." They murmur, squeezing his arm momentarily before moving to get utensils.

Brendon blinks.

Stares.

Trembles.

It's not until Tyler closes a drawer where he snaps out of it, hand shakily moving to get some for himself. He feels weak again, pathetic, being dominated and controlled by something as simple as food.

He doesn't understand why that happened, how it has started, but he does know he wants out of it.

This is terrible.

After a moment, he grabs enough, he decides.

He moves to the corner of the room and watches as Tyler and Josh both get a much larger portion, not batting an eye at the thought of getting it down. Brendon wants that again. He forgot what that's like. He wants to enjoy Tyler's food like he used to, because they don't have to go through the effort of doing this, but they do, and he let's it go to waste so often.

He needs to get over this.

He needs to get over this.

After everyone's bowls are full with their comfort levels, Tyler hands Brendon a spoon and leads the two of them into the livingroom.

Once again, Jim is already eating his own food, not stressing to follow any of them until he finishes his meal.

When the three of them are in the livingroom, Josh and Brendon both sit on the floor to eat their food at the coffee table while Tyler stays behind Brendon on the couch, legs on either side of him. They put on the same show as before, which, works magic. Somehow. Brendon doesn't know how, but it does.

The anxiety settles only slightly as he watches the show. Watches art be made, knowing he'll never do anything that wonderful. He doesn't touch his food either, he only listens to Tyler and Josh, enjoy the meal, savor it, making him feel pity for himself.

Why is it so hard?

After a while he manages to at least grab his fork. He moves it around in circles, seeing the noodles swirl around it, catching what he needs to get down. Noodles. Chicken. Broth. That's all.

That's all.

Brendon sighs.

He throws his head back until it rests on the space between Tyler's legs, looking up at them.

They've finished.

They've finished everything in their bowl and he hasn't even taken a bite.

How long has it been?

**Trigger warning: crying over food.**

Tyler's fingers move to his hair and comb through it as he continues to stare at them numbly. Well, at least he thought it was numbly, but he quickly learns that's it's full of pain when warm, silent tears fall down his face.

Tyler's demeanor says it all. So much pity. So much pity. They brush his tears away and hold his face, eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Just a few bites, Bren." They whisper.

Brendon nods. "I know."

"You can do it." They assure.

Brendon nods again. "I know."

He can. He can. He will. He has to. He needs to. He wants to.

Brendon sits up straight once more, sniffling, breathing. It's not a big deal. It really isn't. Just a few steps. Yeah. Just a few steps. That all it has been, that's all it will be.

He grabs his fork, ignoring the way he trembles like he's freezing. He thinks about how much his stomach has been grumbling, how much pain he has pushed down to lie to himself, how much he needs this to be the person he needs to be. For Tyler, for Josh, for Carina, for his mother, for Brendon. As much as he's afraid, he's also starved. Literally, physically, mentally, metaphorically-- why has it been so hard for him to come to terms with this?

He sighs heedfully, like he's about to take on something bigger than himself, and in a way, it feels like that.

The first bite is timid. Scared. He chews for longer than he has to, stares at the TV like he's trying to set it on fire, dismissing that the tears streaming down his face are only becoming more intense. The second bite comes after the episode ends and Josh rests his head onto his shoulder. The third bite is when they're halfway through the next episode, when Josh is half asleep on him, and the fourth is when Jim is already in dreamland, curled up in his chair.

The fifth is the worst, only because it's the biggest, and coldest, but Brendon just wants to get it over with. After some time, Tyler's fingers began running through his hair again, yet the longer they sat there, the slower they became.

Brendon's depriving them of sleep because of his own problems. It's sick, and he doesn't know why they're putting up with it.

Once he gets that fifth bite-- that last bite-- down, Tyler leans over to kiss the top of his head. "You did so well." They whisper. They mean it, too. He's never heard anything from them sound so surreal, and maybe that's what's pushing him to do it. "Do you feel okay?"

Brendon's exhausted. "I'm alright." He decides, brushing the final tear away.

**Trigger warning over.**

Tyler's Adam's apple bobs. They nod. "I'll clean everything up, you and Josh can go to bed."

Brendon only feels capable of nodding.

It happens in a blur, a lot of things seem to. He doesn't know how he's gotten in bed so quickly, but he has, and Josh's bare chest brushes against him as a reminder of where he is. He holds onto him like a life source, because at this point, he really is, and Josh whispers like the wind. It feels like it. He shivers. Sweats. Wants to cry again, doesn't. Everything is awkward, yet needed, and warm, yet so cold. He doesn't feel alive, even though he just did the most human thing since last night. The arms around him are fake but nighttime is real, his mind dissipates while his body consumes him like dessert.

Nothing is sweet.

Why is the path so rocky?

He's walking for miles, it's lackluster, finding nothing at the end. The rainbow comes with no gold. The sun comes with no moon.

It's depressing like his birth, saddening like the present, mournful like the future.

There is not a single thing in store for him, it feels like, but then the branches around him multiply. Two to four, four to eight. A safety net. The trees blossom, blanket him, shield him, reminding him that there is more to come down this path, and the end has yet to be reached. Bumps are guaranteed, assured, so when the crickets speak once that very night, he knows. Like a violin in an empty venue, there's nothing else to catch.

The garden grows when his mind settles, giving him a home when he doesn't feel deserving of it.

But, that's what Tyler and Josh do for him.

His body is enough. Maybe not now, or tomorrow, only with time. And he has time. Time to grow, conquer, love, thrive.

For that, he's thankful. Definitely.