After Midnight

4.

It's a number he hasn't used before, but still it's in his phone.

And he just hadn't had cause for it before, but after mulling to himself all day, debating yes and no, pros and cons, the sound of Delirious' voice (which shouldn't be a factor but somehow it is), Tyler finally hits the "dial" button and waits.

Then hangs up.

His thumb slides across the screen, and he switches to messaging.

Types, "Are you at Cartoonz's place?" then deletes it.

Sends out instead, "Where are you staying?"

Five minutes pass, where Tyler tries not to fidget, he's not nervous at all of course. Despite the fact his fingers keep pulling and re-pulling up the messaging app.

Tries to waste time on Twitter, until he receives, "Who is this?"

"Tyler, dumbass." He replies. "Don't you have me in your contacts?"

Another pause.

He glares at the phone and starts typing something else out, when with a buzz the next message cuts him off.

"Of course I do. :P I was just checking. I'm in NC remember?"

Tyler throws his phone across the room.

Then, swearing, gets up to retrieve it. He arched it somewhere into the kitchen, and saw it bounce behind the couch, but for fuck's sake now he can't find the damn thing.

Two more buzzes sound out in quick succession somewhere to his right as Tyler is bent under the couch.

"Goddammit," he mutters.

He's on his hands and knees, moving across the floor when he hears a final buzz from in front of the kitchen, and manages to catch the reflection of the phone's blue notification light flash somewhere under the counter.

He has to lay partway on his side, still swearing under his breath, to reach the damned thing where it slid through the dust and cobwebs.

Sitting on his heels, he blows the dust off his phone and unlocks the screen.

Waiting for him are more texts.

"Why do you want to know?"
"Are you trying to plan a meetup? I'm not ready for that Tyler."
"Where are YOU at?
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I know you're just messing with me."
"I'm sorry."
"I've got to go now, Luke just came back with pizza."

Tyler sighs, and reads through the messages again.

He gets comfortable on the floor, stretching out his legs as he slowly types his reply. Backspaces a few times. And types again before finally sending.

"I'm not mad, moron. I was just worried Are you at Cartoonz place then? I was just wondering why we hadn't heard from you much lately. You're not sick again are you?"

He sits there, on the floor in his kitchen, for almost an hour waiting.

Tyler would like to pretend that he wasn't just staring at the open messaging app, waiting for that new notification, but that would be a lie.

He hunches over, rests his elbows on his knees, and goes back to twitter. His thumb scrolling up and down, back and forth between apps. He pulls up YouTube and starts watching a video, stretches--

A sharp pain in his side reminds him that he's been sitting on the floor like a dumbass.

He gets up, and walks to the couch, hand on his side, twisting his back into place with a 'pop' felt more than heard.

"I'm fine."

The messaging app is still open, phone still in Tyler's hand as he continues reading.

"Okay, maybe a little sick, but I'll be much better soon. :) Glad you aren't mad at me."

And Tyler is just beginning to type back when the message comes through.

"Cartoonz is letting me at his house for right now."

And in that instant, all the air and breath in his lungs is gone, and he falls backwards onto his couch, heavy, mouth silently forming words his brain doesn't want to accept.

"*stay at his house."

Delirious, at Cartoonz's house. Delirious..

On his monitor screen, at ass-fuck in the morning. Walking across Cartoonz's kitchen. Highlighted by the bright light of the fridge. A silhouette of loose sweatpants and nice physique.

"He was worried. :P Cartoonz is a mother hen. (Don't tell him I said that.)"

Dark hair moving through the nighttime shadows. Lanky body. Tattoos spiraling up a smooth back. Across Delirious' arms.

Delirious.

It was him.

Fuck.

Tyler stares at the phone in his hands, blinking. His mouth moves, but he doesn't know what to say.