#for context i like fully drowned when i was 11 ish

[transsexual-terabyte]

i still think its kinda wild that i just. decided not to go into the light when i died. and it worked

[heart-eyes-kippen]

Let you love me

Hi! I was trying to write something kinda poetic and it turned into this. I hope it’s okay!

~

Context: Set in the 90′s, high school AU. TJ and Cyrus kissed, now TJ is trying to avoid him.

[POSITIVE ENDING] *ish*

~

TJ Kippen was well aware of the fact that he was background noise. He was well aware that everyone avoided his eye in the corridor, fearfully turning away as though one wrong look would do it. One wrong move would set him off. An accidental glance in the wrong direction would be the breaking point. 

 He was okay with it. In fact - he even welcomed it. He liked the silence that surrounded him when he was alone, he liked being avoided wherever he went and he liked being something that people would rather not acknowledge, something they’d much rather drown out. It was comforting in an odd way, and the familiarity of his own company was something he wouldn’t give up for anyone.

 Not even Cyrus Goodman. 

 If TJ was background noise, then Cyrus was a gentle summer song, drawing people in with the kindness of his smiles. He wasn’t obnoxiously loud, rather, he was a soft hum that made people feel safe. Warm. Accepted. He was someone that people waved to in the corridors, someone who always asked if his peers were okay no matter how well he knew them.

 Cyrus Goodman was a star that burned so brightly, so wonderfully, that TJ was blinded every time he saw him.

 And if he was a star then TJ was a shadow, so dull that up until recently, Cyrus had barely spared him a glance.

 That’s the way it should’ve been. 

 People like TJ weren’t supposed to like people like Cyrus.

 It had never been part of the plan, and really - it shouldn’t have been within the realm of possibility to begin with.

 His mind was constantly reminding him of the fact that it shouldn’t be like this. That he’d let down his dad, who remained adamant that boys weren’t supposed to like boys. That it was unnatural. Something to be hidden away; something to repress.

 So that’s what he did.

 He repressed.

 And repressed.

 And repressed.

 Until it became easy but no less painful to ignore the way his heart would ache around Cyrus, and the butterflies that would fill his stomach when Cyrus so much as smiled at him.

 Until it became second-nature to avoid his eye in the corridor and avoid his questions whenever he asked them.

 People like Cyrus weren’t supposed to like people like TJ, and though he sincerely wished this wasn’t true, he couldn’t escape the reality.

 Cyrus was too vibrant, too perfect for TJ, who was rough around the edges in comparison.

 Cyrus was like the summer sun; overwhelming in the best way possible, and TJ knew he shouldn’t feel this way about someone who could overwhelm him so easily. Someone who could make his knees weak. Someone who could make his heart flutter the way it did.

 But then Cyrus would smile, and he would fall even further, and he’d wonder deep down if perhaps there was a small chance they could work.

 That maybe, 

 possibly,

 miraculously,

 He wasn’t wrong for liking Cyrus.

 ~

 “You shouldn’t be talking to me,” TJ told Cyrus the following day, his eyes downcast and his stomach filled with the usual swarm of butterflies.

 The boy’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he tilted his head as though he didn’t quite understand what TJ was saying.

 “Why not?” 

 The words were quiet, gentle, patient, and they only added to the ache in TJ’s chest.

 “Your friends will be mad,” he settled on saying, attempting to walk forward, but he felt Cyrus’ hand slip into his own, preventing him. He knew he could pull away; he was stronger than the boy after all, but something kept him rooted to the spot.

 “My friends don’t know you,” came the soft response.

 “You don’t know me,” said TJ, looking anywhere but Cyrus. He couldn’t handle the hurt expression on his face - not today, not ever. 

 “But what if I want to?” 

 TJ wanted more than anything to give in to Cyrus’ pull, give into his kind smiles, his comforting words and everything in between. But he couldn’t. Because then he would only fall harder, and lose even more control over himself than he had already.

 “You don’t want to,” he insisted.

 “Oh? So you can read my mind now?” 

 TJ shook his head, tugging his hand out of Cyrus’ grasp and turning away from the boy fully. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t handle this - not right now, or ever for that matter.

 It had been so much easier to resist Cyrus when he wasn’t acknowledging him, but now? The softness in his eyes was pulling him in, and every moment he spent with the boy made him desperately hope for another.

 He thought about his dad, and his mom, and all of the people in his life that had told him why the things he was feeling were so wrong. 

 But then he thought about Cyrus, his caring brown eyes, his soft laugh, the way his hand felt in TJ’s, and he wondered - how could liking someone who made him feel like air, so free and uninhibited, possibly be wrong? 

 He slowly turned around, his heart hammering away in his chest, his expression hesitant and his eyes flickering between Cyrus’ hopeful expression and the ground.

 “Meet me by the back of the diner at 6,” he said, his voice low, and the smile that came to Cyrus’ lips made TJ’s heart melt into a puddle.

 ~

 “Are we going to talk about what happened?”

 It was the question that TJ had dreaded from the moment he approached Cyrus, the cool evening breeze ruffling his hair slightly. The sky was clear and the sun was slowly beginning to set, creating a wonderful gradient of blues, purples, reds and pinks.

 Cyrus was leaning back against the wall, nervous but determined, his eyes gleaming with the brightness that had pulled TJ toward him in the first place.

 “Do we have to?” TJ asked him, biting his lip anxiously and averting his gaze.

 “Look at me TJ,” the boy said gently, reaching a hand out to take his. Warmth spread from TJ’s fingertips, and now that he was holding Cyrus’ hand he never wanted to let it go.

 Slowly, he shifted his gaze, his expression hesitant and his mind reeling. A spark of panic shot through him as he realised just how much Cyrus affected him; just how much he was dependent on the boy’s company. He knew he couldn’t have him, but god did he want to.

 “Did you like the kiss?” 

 Everything in TJ was yelling desperately at him to say no, to deny his feelings, to revert back to old ways, but for once he didn’t want to. He was exhausted, and playing this constant push-and-pull game with Cyrus was beginning to wear him down. 

 He wanted to give in.

 But could he? 

 Should he? 

 “Yes,” he mumbled, so quietly he thought for a moment that Cyrus hadn’t heard it.

 But he had, and a soft smile formed on his lips as he stepped further into TJ’s space. Cyrus was looking up at him in a way that had the air seeping out his lungs.

 TJ swallowed, his breathing unsteady as even more butterflies filled his stomach.

 “I did too,” Cyrus murmured, his breath ghosting over TJ’s skin. His eyes fluttered shut at the feeling.

 “What does this mean?” TJ asked him, his voice wavering slightly. He couldn’t see him, but he knew then that Cyrus was probably smiling.

 “That we should kiss again,” he responded simply.

 “And then?” 

 Cyrus brought his free arm up to wrap around the back of TJ’s neck, shifting even further into the boy’s space.

 “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he murmured, so ridiculously close now that TJ had given up all hope of resisting. He could only go on so long trying to ignore the way he felt about Cyrus.

 “Okay,” he agreed, swallowing thickly and opening his eyes again. “Wanna come over to my place? Dad isn’t home until 11 tonight.” 

 Cyrus smiled, standing on his tip-toes to press a quick kiss to TJ’s cheek. “I’d love to.” 

 ~

 If TJ was a spark, then Cyrus was a firework, and together, they burned so colourfully that TJ could barely believe it. 

 He had never felt anything to this degree with the girls he dated, who were drawn in purely by his aloofness. His coldness.

 Right now though - he felt electric.

 It was dark out and they were sat on TJ’s bed, Cyrus’ hands tangled in the boy’s hair, his lips pressed to TJ’s. The kiss tasted like the cola they had both drank earlier, and somehow it made everything feel all the more intoxicating.

 TJ’s hands were on Cyrus’ waist, tracing gentle patterns against the fabric of his shirt.

 The boy giggled slightly at the feeling, pulling away with a heart-melting smile. “Stop doing that,” he scolded, rolling his eyes at the amused grin on TJ’s lips.

 “What? This?” 

 He trailed his fingers over Cyrus’ waist, his touch so light that it had the boy squirming away and giggling again.

 “Yes - that,” he responded, swatting at TJ’s hand.

 TJ smiled, his eyes shining with fondness as he softly brought their lips together again. 

 Cyrus made him feel bright inside in a way he wasn’t used to, and the thought was equally terrifying as it was exciting. 

 As they kissed, and laughed, and talked, TJ couldn’t help but think that maybe,

 possibly,

 miraculously,

 Cyrus Goodman liked him for him, and that thought was so comforting he couldn’t help but smile.