Delinquent (Joshler) [✓]

xxii • Daddy Joseph Should Wipe His Ass, Because I'm Done With His Shit Pt. Two

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part two of three

"Let's talk about sex, baby," Josh sings along, wrapping his hands around Tyler's waist as the smaller boy makes the pair some chocolate chip pancakes.

"Let's talk about you and me, let's talk about all the good things, and the bad things, that may be," he continues, swaying them back and forth as Tyler mixes the batter.

He leans in close to Tyler's ear, "Let's talk about sex," he whispers.

Tyler giggles, moving to pour the batter onto the pancake skillet.

Tyler sighs, turning to face Josh, whose hands are still resting on the petit boys waist.,

"Hey, Josh?"

Josh leans in to nose at Tyler's neck, "Hm?" he hums in acknowledgement.

Tyler sighs again, hesitant, "A-are we ever gonna, l-like, um,
y-y'know?" he stammers, looking at Josh expectantly.

Josh backs his face away from Tyler's neck, with his brows furrowed, he asks, "What do you mean?"

Tyler groans, "L-like," he rolls his eyes, singing along to the song playing through their kitchen, "Now, we talk about sex on the radio, and video shows. Many will know anything goes," he trailed off.

Josh's face lights up in understanding, "Oh, honey," he brings his hands up to hug Tyler properly, "We don't have to do anything until you're comfortable, 'kay? Only if you want to, m'not gonna push ya'," Josh concludes, kissing Tyler's forehead.

Tyler leans into his touch, "M'love you." he murmurs against Josh's chest.

"I lov-" Josh is interrupted by a firm knock on the door.

Rolling his eyes, Josh goes to answer the door, which--unsurprisingly-- has Mr. Joseph standing on the other side.

"Well, would you look at those sweatpants that you're barely wearing," He greets, looking Josh up and down in judgement.

Josh rolls his eyes, "Well I got myself a man to impress, I'm gonna wear what I want." he gestures to his prominent abdominal muscles.

The oldest man rolls his eyes, "You are cordially invited to the courthouse," he states, handing Josh an envelope, "You good-for-nothing faggots are gonna get me my money."

Josh furrows his brow in anger and confusion, "We don't have your fucking money, lay off, dude." he rolls his eyes, ready to close the door.

"You're expected there! Read the letter. See you Monday," Chris grins evilly, walking off.

"Fucking ass," Josh murmurs, turning around to see Tyler a few feet behind him, shaking and crying.

"Oh, bub." Josh carefully walks over to the panic-struck boy.

"Breathe with me, baby," Josh tells him, repeating the ritual he's had to do several times when the boys' adrenaline runs wild.

When his breathing evens out, Josh grabs Tyler's hands and places a gentle kiss to each knuckle.

"I-I h-hate him s-s-so much," Tyler sobs, roughly plopping into Josh's lap.

"God, me too. He isn't good for your health, bub, every time you see him, you panic."

"I-I'm sorry, I-I c-can't help it-it," Tyler apologizes.

"Don't apologize, bub. Hey," Josh got an idea, "How 'bout we get you a restraining order?"

Tyler looks up, eyes flooding with salty tears, "W-we can do t-that?"

Josh smiles down at him, "Yeah, we can. It'll be good, 'cause we gotta get you a refill prescription, y'know because I can't refill it."

Tyler breaks down into sobs again, "G-gosh, I love y-you, Joshua. S-so much."

"I love you, too."

Josh rubs Tyler's back, sighing slightly,

"Off to court, we go." He mumbles to himself.

Off to court, they go.

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