HOLIDAYS - CHAPTER 4
TROYEPOV
Concious thoughts trickle slowly into my brain.
I'm waking up. I must've fallen asleep last night.
It's light outside; I can tell through my eyelids.
I can smell... Pancakes. That must've been what woke me up.
I hate mornings.
I can hear the faint buzz of conversation drifting from up the stairs. I must be downstairs still.
I'm really... Warm.
I groan loudly, trying to sluggishly drag my arm to my eyes to forcefully unglue them, but I find it trapped. I tug at it and I hear a whimper of complaint. I freeze, momentarily petrified by the close proximity of the noise, before managing to open one eye.
Blinding light. The sparsely decorated interior of the basement. Tyler Oakley's sleeping face, centimetres from mine.
I feel heat rush to my ears, opening my other eye and letting my gaze wander over his face. His lips are parted slightly and his hair is flat across his forehead. I looked further down and blushed, noticing that we were in an incredibly incriminating position, somehow having ended up tangled on the couch in such a way I couldn't tell our limbs apart.
Fuck. This is the same couch, too. If he wakes up - oh god, I won't be able to handle it if this makes it awkward again.
Shush Troye, you're overreacting. Friends always sleep together in the most platonic sense of the words. Hence it being platonic. (Not that I'd mind the non-platonic sense of the phrase.) It doesn't count as cuddling if neither of us were lucid. I certainly don't want to maybe do this again some time. What an absolutely not lovely way to wake up. I definitely don't want to snuggle into his chest or wake him up with kisses.
God Troye, when did you turn into a sap?
But anyway, it's a safer option to slip out of his arms and leave him with no clue this happened. Better safe than sorry.
Please don't wake up, please don't wake up, please don't wake up, please don't wake up...
I'm not sure how repeating this in my head will convince him not to wake up as I try to carefully untangle myself, but it's probably a form of subliminal messaging. Super, super subliminal. But I mean, we are soulmates, so we probably have a subconcious psychic bond.
I carefully make an attempt at extracting my arm, sliding it out from underneath his slowly.
I cheer internally when I was successful, carefully beginning on my left leg -
"BOYS! PANCAKES ARE READY!"
Tyler stirs, his eyes opening slowly. I freeze, theorising that if i don't move he can't see me. bam. instant invisibility.
"Troye?" He mumbles, his eyes snapping open as he registers our position.
"Good morning sunshine?" I say weakly.
He stares at me for a brief second before rolling away from me sharply, immediately falling off the couch. I don't know whether to laugh or cry, but upon the lowpitched grunt he emits from the floor i go with laughing quietly.
"You alright there Ty?" I silently hope he'll tease me back, or give me some sort of indication we haven't crossed one of our unspoken boundaries. He stands, blushing furiously and looking at me nervously.
"Yeah. Yep. Good. A-Okay. Perf. We're good. I'm good, I mean." I was planning on a snarky and/or flirty response, but his gravelly morning voice takes me by surprise, leaving me momentarily speechless. Which is quite an achievement. I didn't get lead in last year's production of Oliver for nothing. But god, it's lower than normal and his hair's dishevelled from sleep and...
Wait did he say 'we're'? As in us? Does that mean despite his mortified leaping-off-a-couch reaction to be in that position with me it wasn't going to be awkward? I certainly hope so.
"BOYS!"
Me and Tyler jump, breaking our stare-off in favour of looking over to see Mum standing at the top of the staircase.
"Pancakes are ready!"
\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\/
Tyler looks like he's trying not to drool.
I mean, the display of toppings is pretty impressive, but I only have eyes for one topping. I also only have eyes for one top. And he's sitting across the table, drooling at the different types of syrups.
I'm not a morning person.
I grab the nutella, revelling in the way it drips off the butter knife and onto my pancake. When was the last time i had nutella? it must've been at least two days ago, I'm having withdrawals. I lick my lips as I stare at it.
"Oh my god Troye." Sage says, rolling her eyes teasingly. "Just eat the pancake, stop being such a drama queen." I grin at her.
I fold my pancake in half and take a bite, throwing my head back and moaning extravagantly. The table erupts into laughter, except for Tyler who promptly chokes on his orange juice, staring at me and blushing furiously.
He finishes coughing, shoots me a glare and returning to slathering his pancakes with nutella. I watch him appreciately as he raises it to his mouth, the nutella beginning to drip off the edge. He carefully catches it with his tongue and I feel my ears turn red, shifting uncomfortably in my seat as he draws it into his mouth and carefully licks off the excess nutella.
I groan mentally as I try to tear my eyes away. It's meant to be the other way around, I'm not meant to be the flustered one - he's not meant to be able to get me like this without even trying. But he can, and he does, all the freaking time.
I still remember one day when I was thirteen; I was dating this girl called Tanya, and I thought she was nice. But she kept trying to kiss me, and it was... Gross. And then Steele let me go swimming with him and Tyler, in the lake a few suburbs away - and I just felt weird the whole time. Tyler was shirtless and sixteen and broad-shouldered and his board shorts were hanging too low on his hips to be decent, and I avoided him for a week and five days after that because I was terrified of the implications of not being able to stop staring at him. I was thirteen, and I should've been discovering girls, and instead I was discovering Tyler.
It was something I couldn't come to terms with, something I was scared of, something I didn't come to terms with until I met Dan.
"Have you ever kissed a boy before?"
I tune back in to find Dad basically gushing over how much he loves Tyler. Just for a change.
"I'm so glad you're back here Tyler." He beams. "You're my favourite son." He stage whispers, and Tyler laughs, making me grin at the interaction. "But don't tell my other sons."
"I won't." He stage whispers back, catching my eye and grinning at me.
"It's a shame Sage is a bit young for you." My mum jims in. The majority of the table snaps their heads towards her, and Sage starts coughing on her pancake.
"Yeah!" Dad looks delighted. "You could marry into the family."
I'm not sure who out of me, Tyler or Sage looks more mortified. Actually, Mum an Dad are the only ones who look pleased at the idea.
"Um, uh, I'm not sure - "
"I don't um, think, that would - "
I don't know whether to laugh or not.
"Well, I mean, no pressure or anything. But it sure would be nice..." Mum says innocently.
"Well, maybe one day I'll marry into the family." He says.
Mum and Dad look pleased, and Sage looks at him like he's grown a third head, but his gaze lingers on me a bit longer than neccesary. I snap my gaze to my pancakes, but they wander up again almost instantaneously, and Sage is looking curiously between me and Tyler - and shit, I really hope she doesn't notice the mischeivous glances he's giving me every few seconds, or how red my ears are.
"Can we start planning the wedding?" Tyde says half teasingly, and I glare at him.
"Ooh yes!" Mum says. "It'll be in a church..."
"No way, it'll be in a garden wedding." Tyler interrupts, and I swap my glare to him. There's no way he's actually getting into this, is he? He was looking at me when he was talking about marrying into the family. Wasn't he?
"And Sage will wear my old dress!" My mum squeals.
"No way!" Sage replies, looking horrified. "Mine's going to have lace sleeves and going to be really slimming..."
I can feel an ugly feeling curling around in my stomach. I'm not jealous. I'm not. There is no way I'm jealous of my 14 year old sister getting imaginary married to Tyler. He's gay, isn't he? I mean, I always assumed... But he never actually said anything... What if he's bi or something? What if he's straight and he was just messing with me last holidays? He does have purple hair though. But, either way, he's mine.
"Tyler can wear a bowtie!" Sage says excitedly, looking at Tyler like she's picturing him in a suit.
Okay, it's definitely jealousy.
Mine, mine, mine, mine -
I break momentarliy from death-glaring at Sage and realise Tyler is looking right at me, a wicked smirk across his face. I glare at him fiercely, my ears turning hot.
"But we would make a pretty cute couple though..." Tyler says innocently, and I have to physically restrain my jaw from dropping open. He's just toying with me now.
I give him a meaningful glare and he pretends not to notice. I stab my pancake, sawing a section off and crudely shoving it in my mouth.
"Oy!" Steele interrupts indignantly, having apparently finally caught up to what's going on. "Watch it, bud. You better keep your hands off my baby sister." He's half joking, and Tyler giggles.
"Yeah, this wedding isn't happening until Sage is at least... 35." Dad says decisively. Sage just rolls her eyes and returns to her lemon juice drenched pancake.
"I don't see it." I say nonchalently, after a moment of silence. Tyler keeps his eyes trained on his pancake, but I can see a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\
"So, boys."
Steele, Tyler and I are seated on the floor of Steele's bedroom. "This is our last Summer holidays before me and Tyler go to Uni."
Tyler rolls his eyes, giggling at Steele's overly dramatic tone.
"So, we are going to make this the most epic. Summer. Ever. All who agree say ay."
"Ay."
"Ay."
It's a stupid little game, but we've done it since we were little, and what better time to cling to childhood traditions than when you're realising that you're not so much of a kid anymore?
"On the agenda this holidays." Steele continues, keeping up his dramatic news-presenter tone that has me and Tyler grinning.
"We have: swimming in the pool, swimming in the lake, going to a waterpark, having a waterfight, basically anything to do with water so we don't die of heat - "
"Isn't this gonna be the hottest Summer in thirty years or something?" Tyler interrupts.
"Yep. Damn global warming. Stop interrupting. Sneaking Troye into a club, skinnydipping - "
"Woahwoahwoah. Skinny dipping? I'm not sure that's a good idea." Tyler's cheeks are faintly pink, and I bite back a giggle.
"Why not? We're all boys here. And what did I say about interrupting."
"Um, well, we'll see I guess. And sneaking Troye into a club? That doesn't sound safe." He looks genuinely concerned, which is sweet, but me and Steele both roll our eyes.
"Tyler, it's not like I haven't gotten drunk with you guys before."
"Yeah, but it's not um... What if... It's a less controlled environment?"
I raise my eyebrows at him.
"Besides... It's not like last time went so well..." He mumbles, and i stare into my lap.
"Are you kidding? Last time was epic!"
Tyler and I turn bright red, furiously avoiding eye contact.
"I think..." Steele finishes weakly, and I crack a small smile. Steele liked to think he can handle his alcohol, but 'last time' he was knocked out within an hour.
We sit in awkward silence for a few of those moments that seem to last for hours.
"Where was I?" Steele says brightly, and the tension melts away like it was never here in the first place.
TYPOV
"Tylaaaaaaaaaaahh." Troye whines, his arms above his head, his tight shirt tangled around his long limbs, covering his face. I try not to look, I do, I swear, because I know that's exactly what he wants. It takes all of three seconds for my eyes to be roaming the smooth expanse of his torso, appreciating his tight skin, my eyes lingering on his pink nipples. I wonder if he has sensitive nipples. His skin is so... smooth? unblemished? I'm not sure, but all I can focus on right now is not picturing it covered in love bites. He's just asking for it. I could do it right now, start with feather light kisses, trailing down all the way from his collarbones to the line of hair leading from his belly button to his belt buckle, changing pressure until his stomach was littered in marks. I wonder if I could make him moan like this morning at breakfast. He probably wouldn't stop me. He'd probably let me move him backwards until his back was against the wall, letting his head fall back and whining because his arms and head were still wrapped up in his shirt.
"Tyler?"
His voice sounds uncertain, but also kind off smug, and I realise I've spent way too long getting caught up in day dreams, and that I've gotten so close to him he can probably feel my breath on his chest, and that I really need a moment to cool off.
"Can you help me out of my shirt?"
"Nope." I try to sounds sassy but I'm pretty sure my voice is noticably breathy, and he seems to have an uncanny ability to sense when i'm blushing anyway.
I duck to Steele's ensuite bathroom, leaving Troye tangled up on his shirt.
Once we had sorted out our Summer agenda, we had concluded that it was prime time for the first swim of the summer. Hence our current position, getting into our togs. Steele's down in the kitchen, already board short clad, Troye is getting changed in the bedroom, and I'm in the ensuite, trying to build up the mental strength to control myself around a shirtless, dripping wet Troye.
"Are you done?" I ask nervously once into my togs. I'm not even sure if he's still in the room, but I wouldn't put it past him to be wandering around the room naked. I dont here a response, so I slip out the door - relieved and only mildly dissapointed to find the room empty.
AN: oooooooook, hyellohhhhh friends, here i am again, here is me, firstly, for nonaustralian people who keep getting confused bc apparently you speak fuckin german or some shit here are some definitions for your beautiful faces
togs: fuckin, swimming garb (follow me on tumblr @whats-a-garb)
doona: fuckin warm blanket fluffy ma bob
poppa: i tihnk im speeling this one wrong actually, idek. ummm like those mini cartons with straws? breakas? they might be like juice boxes, deoending on what the hell juiceboxes are. and without juice. unless it's a juice poppa
make requests in the comments if there is something you don't understand my sole purpose is to cater to your every need
DEDICATED TO MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE EMMY, BC SHE JUST GOT BACK FROM HOLIDAYS (ayyyy) camping and touring and that fun stuff and i missed her so , uh, um, yeah. follow her
lastly, another apology for another shitty chapter that just sort of trails off and is too detailed but has weird and awkward timeskips and pov changes and SORRYSORRYSORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR A MONTH, I HAVE NO EXCUSE MY LIFE IS JUST GOING TO SHIT YOU KNOW k bye im sorry for being super awkward i should stop making authors notes at all but................. i love you heaps and heaps and heaps and im sorry that i suckkkk xxx
