(FLUFF SORTOF)
Tyler likes watching the morning, Josh likes watching Tyler.
They prettymuch just smoke in this so idk it's quiet and sortof nice I guess writing this made me feel kindof tired and snuggly
Also this isn't a part of the previous multiple-part one shot, there will be more parts but not at the moment
(They're just really quiet)
Ø
The sky is pink.
But it's white too, and it's blue, and it's purple, and it's black.
Tyler's arm drapes back, hanging off the side of the van.
His head does as well, resting against the metal railing, hard against his skull. His doe eyes meet the greying clouds, skimming the surface of the sky.
A warm breath slips through his plump lips, and they part, a cigarette soon being encapsulated by the rosy blooms.
His eyelashes flutter, drooping from the slight effects of the drug. The air is cool from the early morning, dewdrops lingering along the surface of the back of the van.
His legs shift on the solid surface, resting against the metal. It's cold against the delicate skin wrapped around his thighs, exposed from the boxer shorts that hang off his hips.
It's about six in the morning, he assumes. He can't remember how long he's been here anymore.
A small yawn escapes the safety of his mouth, doe eyes blinking languidly. His sight clouds over then, and he has to blink away the bleariness to see Joshua standing over him, a slight smile playing on his face.
"Out here ag'in?" the pink-haired boy asks softly. His voice is quiet, crisp at the crack of dawn, but there's a velvety touch to it, too. Soothing, in a way.
The corner of Tyler's plump lips quirks up, just barely. He takes another drag of the cigarette, before plucking it from between the pink envelopes of skin.
"Where else w'ld I be?"
Josh's eyes are soft.
"C'n I borrow a lighter?"
Tyler sits up a little, shuffling around for a little before his rose-tinted fingers wrap around the small cylinder. They curl around it for a moment, before he hands it to the taller boy, palm open, pale skin glowing.
Josh hoists himself up, the vehicle swaying slightly as he settles down next to Tyler, back pressed against the side of the van. His legs are pulled to his chest, chin resting on his knees, exposed behind the rip of his jeans.
Neither of them speak up for a long while.
Tyler's milk-chocolate eyes stay on the sky.
It seems so wide. So far. It seems to stretch on forever, and it makes Tyler feel so small. He feels covered by it, almost, smothered by the cotton clouds, the white-and-blue shades draping over his head, his shoulders, like a blanket.
