playboy | joshler ✓

- thirty two -

"Oh, my God, my butthole feels like it just got stretched out to the size of a shower drain." (a/n: i luv brendon rogers)

"Thanks for the detail." Tyler scrunched his face up in mock disgust.

"You're welcome, buddy."

"Wait, but are you actually that sore?"

"No. I just like being over-dramatic."

"Oh," Tyler looked back down at his phone, only to fall off the bed at feeling a pillow smack into the side of his head.

"Yes, I'm that sore, you dick twitch."

Tyler rubbed the side of his head, glaring up at Josh. "Jeez, calm down."

"Go get me something to eat," Josh groaned. "And Tylenol."

"Tyler-nol. I'm the best medicine ever, baby."

"Tyler, get me some goddamn Tylenol."

Tyler huffed in annoyance, getting up. "Fine, you big baby." He headed out of the bedroom, looking around for Violetta. (a/n: im too lazy to write accents or check if my spelling is correct so) "Oye, Violetta, mi novio quire algo de comer y - " (Hey, Violetta, my boyfriend wants something to eat and - )

"Novio?!" Violetta almost dropped the plate she was holding. She set it down, and clasped her hands together. She laughed in delight. "Don Joseph, porque no me lo dijo antes?!" (Boyfriend?! Mr. Joseph, why didn't you tell me?!)

Tyler's eyes widened. Shit, did he really just call Josh his boyfriend? How the hell do you accidentally call somebody your boyfriend?! "No, no, no! Es mi amigo!" He hurried to say. (He's my friend!)

Violetta frowned. " . . . amigo? Ahh, es otro de esos muchachitos que se quedan por unos cuantos dias!" ( . . . friend? Ah, he's another one of those guys that stay for a couple of days!)

Tyler shook his head. "No, Violetta, es un . . . uh . . . " (No, Violetta, he's a . . . uh . . . )

"Novio?" Violetta supplied. (Boyfriend?)

"No."

Violetta chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Ay, Don Joseph. Usted esta enamorado," she teased. (Oh, Mr. Joseph. You're in love.)

Tyler crossed his arms over his chest. "Que te hace decir eso?" (What makes you say that?)

"Lo puedo ver en su mirada. Usted mira a ese muchacho como si fuera un angel." (I can see it your gaze. You look at that guy as if he was an angel.)

Tyler floundered for a second, trying to think of a response.

"Le traire comida en unos minutos," Violetta smiled. "Y . . . Don Joseph?" (I'll bring him food in a couple of minutes. And . . . Mr. Joseph?)

"Hmm?" Tyler looked at her.

"No deje a este ir." She advised, before getting to work on her food. (Don't let this one go.)

Tyler blinked, watching the older woman work before going to the bathroom to find Tylenol. He also grabbed a cup of water when he passed by the kitchen again, and pushed the door to his bedroom open.

He was surprised to find Josh talking to somebody, looking rather surprised.

"Um . . . I'll think about it, Noah." He said quietly. "I . . . I don't know. Give me time to think."

Tyler set down the cup of water on the night stand besides the bed and knelt down, looking up at Josh. Josh ended the call, and he stared at his phone for a second before sighing shakily.

"What happened?" Tyler asked, as he pressed two pills into Josh's hand.

Josh turned to look at Tyler, and his big, brown eyes blinked. "My ex came back to the US. He wants to see me."

Tyler straightened, alarmed. "What? Why?"

"He wants to catch up," Josh popped the pills into his mouth, grabbing the water and taking a long sip. Silence stretched between the two.

"Are you gonna go?" Tyler finally asked.

All he needed as an answer was Josh's silence.

+ + +

"Ty, are you okay?" Audrey asked worriedly, sitting down next to him.

Tyler snapped out of his trance, looking at her. "What? Yeah. I'm fine."

"You look a little sad," she commented. "What's wrong?"

Tyler shook his head, pulling a smile onto his face. "Nothing. Let's get back to this, okay? I want to finish before eight." He began to quickly look through papers, tossing some aside and even crumpling a few.

Audrey hesitated, obviously wanting to say more. "Does Josh have to do with it?" She finally asked.

Tyler froze, staring at the table, before leaning back into his seat. He dropped the papers onto the desk, and sighed. "Yeah," he admitted quietly.

"Did you do something to him?" She asked, suddenly defensive. "Tyler Robert Joseph, I know of the kinky stuff you're into and if I ask Josh what exactly happened that one night three days ago, I will - "

"No, I didn't do anything to him." Tyler interrupted.

Audrey deflated. "Oh." Then, her expression shifted into one of understanding. "It's because of Noah, isn't it?"

Tyler said nothing.

"Yeah, Josh told me about the little rat coming back," she scowled. "I don't know why Josh is going to see him again." She looked up at Tyler. "Is that why you haven't talked to him at all since the day I picked him up from your apartments?"

Tyler rubbed his face with his hands, sighing exasperatedly. "Yes, yes, it is, okay?"

"Why?" She pressed.

"Because I don't want to see Josh with another guy," he spat out. Tyler began to angrily shove the papers back into the folders, shoving everything into a box and stomping out. Audrey watched with wide eyes, having never seen Tyler get so worked up about something. Sure, he'd get mad sometimes in the office but never to this degree.

"Tyler, wai - "

"Get out," Tyler motioned to the door, burying his face in his arms which rested on the desk.

" . . . Ty."

"I said get out!" Tyler shouted, giving his assistant a venomous look.

Audrey flinched, eyes wide again, but hurried out. Tyler lowered his head onto his arms again, frustration, anger, and heartbreak building up. Stupid, perfect Josh, with his amazing, beautiful self. Tyler squeezed his hands into fists, before standing up and grabbing his bottle of whiskey. Not bothering with a cup, Tyler uncapped the bottle and took a long swig, the liquid burning on the way down.

"Forget him," Tyler muttered, enraged. "I'll make my life fine without him."

Eventually, Tyler got so mad that he threw the now-empty bottle against the wall, screaming in frustration. He stood there for a second, watching the glass fall to the ground, before grabbing his coat and hurrying down to the lobby. He called his chauffeur on the way down.

"Jonathan, please get the car ready. I'm going to the nearest bar. Find me a messy one. Preferably with strippers."

"Right away, sir."

Tyler ended the call, shoving the phone into his pants' pocket. He stared at his reflection in the elevator doors, until they opened and Tyler walked out. Jonathan was already waiting in the parking lot, by the car. Tyler got in, and Jonathan began to drive.

The ride was rather short, and Tyler stepped out, buttoning his blazer with one hand as he did so.

"You can go home." He ordered Jonathan.

Jonathan frowned. "But sir, who will take you home?"

Tyler waved him away. "I'll manage, Jonathan. Go home."

The chauffeur hesitated, but nodded and left, leaving Tyler alone. Tyler turned to the entrance of the bar, put on his best poker face, and walked in.