(FLUFF)
Tyler can't sport, and Josh loves it. (him)
I don't know how many chapters there are going to be wow this is a long one shot but???? It's kindof nice to write?? Bear with me guys
Also none of these are edited so there are probably 19761 mistakes in this iM soRrY
(Artist!Tyler and Athlete!Josh)
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Another six days pass, or maybe it's a whole week--Josh isn't sure anymore. The days seem to be melting and stringing into each other, with every dimpled smile Tyler gives him.
The bruises painted onto Tyler's skin have started to fade, too--becoming small patches of grey and yellow.
Joshua has made it his priority to make sure Tyler isn't getting hit by his bastard of a father again, and kisses him all over, every day, until Tyler whines that it tickles and makes him stop.
Tyler'd said yes to Homecoming, too--and Josh may or may not have backflipped at his reply, and he may or may not have accidentally knocked some books over while doing it.
People have definitely started to notice the gradual closeness within the two, but no one has dared to speak up about it--not yet, anyway.
Now, as Tyler's doe eyes scan over the painting, examining every bump in the paint and every crease in the paper, Josh wonders how anyone could ever think of hurting an actual angel like him.
The exhibition hall is huge, footsteps clacking off walls, voices echoing over the rounded ceiling.
The blond's hands are stuffed into his pockets, coffee-brown eyes looking everywhere but the pieces of art. They travel to the high ceiling, painted a sheer white, and he watches the light dance over the walls.
Honey-hued irises fall on the brown-haired boy in front of him, and they stay there, strained on those rosy, light-freckled cheeks, and the poppy-bloom lips that separate them.
Tyler catches his gaze from the corner of his eye, and he turns with the corner of his mouth tugged upwards.
"Stop starin'!"
"M'just admiring art like you told me to." Josh says defensively. The smaller boy's cheeks flush pink, and he wrinkles his nose.
"You're so sappy."
Josh laughs, a quiet, airy sound that drips and spews from his tongue like honey, coating the insides of his mouth with a sickly-sweet taste and resonating through the white walls.
"That's what trees do, Ty. Don't be root and leaf me be."
Tyler groans, swatting at him and shuffling over to the next exhibit. The blond grins proudly at his pun, following after the brunet like a lovesick puppy.
He grabs his hand, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he watches a rosy shade paint itself onto Tyler's cheeks, dusting over his freckled cheekbones.
