Garden Shed: Tyler, The Creator and Wyatt

23. Plump

It was saturday morning. Tyler woke up, looking at his clock: 11:35 am.

"Fuck." he cursed, he hated waking up late. It felt like he wasted his entire day.

Tyler and Wyatt had spent the whole night texting about their kiss. Tyler ended up going to bed until one in the morning. He never went to bed that late, but Wyatt was an exception.

He checked his phone.

good morning, hope u slept well
-Wyatt, 10:30 am

Tyler got up and got dressed quick.

"Ma, i'm gonna go work on this project with a friend. Imma be back later."

He kissed her forehead, and she shook her head.

"Better not be back too late!"

"I won't."

Tyler grabbed his phone, and grabbed his bike. Immediately, he made his way to Wyatt's. Once he did, he knocked on the door loudly. He looked around the block to make sure no one he knew was looking.

"Hey! Tyler! You're here early. Wyatt's upstairs if you wanna go—,"

"Yeah, thanks," Tyler moved his way past Wyatt's dad, rushing upstairs. He opened the door in a rush.

Wyatt was in bed, his shirt off. His hand was down his boxers. Quickly, he jumped, pulling the covers over him.

Tyler closed the door behind him.

"What the fuck are you doing up here—,"

Tyler didn't care. He grabbed Wyatt, pulling him in as their lips collided once more. Tyler let his hands run all over his curls. He pulled away.

"You really couldn't wait till later?" Wyatt smirked.

"I wanted to see you."

Wyatt laughed.

"You were fucking jacking off weren't you?" T signaled.

"Yeah. Then you came in." Wyatt began to pull his shirt over him.

"You were thinking of me, huh?"

"Something like that." Wyatt pulled Tyler in again, but this time the kiss was slower, more passionate.

Wyatt pulled away.

"Are–Are you hard?" He looked down at Tyler's imprint.

Tyler smirked.

"Kinda."

Wyatt blushed, not sure where to look. He always felt intimidated when he was around Tyler. Always nervous, for some reason.

Wyatt placed his hand on it, rubbing. Tyler's head tilted back, he closed his eyes before moving Wyatt's hand.

"We can't do this shit here." Tyler started.

"Why not?"

"Wyatt, you don't have a fucking lock on your door."

Wyatt fell back into the bed.

"Fuck."

"What?" Tyler asked.

"I forgot Amanda wanted me to go to this stupid picnic thing with her mom—,"

"When?"

"Not till later. We still have a few hours to kill."

"Damn," Tyler groaned, "You're already meeting her fucking mom?"