z on rooming with jamie + jamie ditching him in their rookie year

Mittens | Tyson Jost

Summary Requests: you never wear mittens so i knit you a pair and leave them for you to find as a gift from an anonymous person because i’m shy

and

your family ditches you for the holiday so i take you home with me, except my family thinks we’re dating now, and i don’t know how to tell them that we’re not Word Count: 3.8k Note: this is dedicated to @thesmutpeasant‘s knitting behaviour

---

When you finished your PR degree, you wouldn’t have said that working for a hockey team was your ultimate dream. You didn’t even know hockey. But working for the Avs has pretty much been the best time of your life, so far.

Where else could you spend an hour of your work day talking about Christmas gifts? 

So far, the boys have decided that for Christmas, Gabe needs to get some hairspray, Z needs a new wardrobe, and Mikko needs a girlfriend.

“What about Tyson?” you ask JT. “Have you gotten him a present yet?”

JT laughs. “No, I haven’t, but I think someone should get him a blanket or something. He’s not good with the cold.” “Hey, fuck you!” Tyson yells from the other side of the room. “It’s freezing here, we can’t all be cold blooded like you!” JT huffs. “He says that, but he’s dressed like he lives in California or something. Never wears a hat, or gloves. And then he complains about the cold all the time. One night he even asked if he could have my duvet.” “That was in Winnipeg, and you know how cold Winnipeg is,” Tyson protests. “Besides, I asked you to cuddle me warm first, but you said no.” It’s teasing, and JT rolls his eyes, but you know Twitter is gonna explode at this. “Thanks boys,” you say, putting down the mic, and the cameras finally leave the room. “What do you want for Christmas, Y/N?” Tyson asks. Out of all the boys - although you would never admit it - you like Tyson the most. He’s always chatting with you when the cameras turn off, and he asks you things like he cares about the answer. You’ve become friends, in the past few months. He’s also really cute. You shrug. “Some sleep would be good,” you say, because it’s been a long road trip, and Tyson laughs. “Same.” --- The next morning Tyson brings you a cup of coffee to the plane. “How is she gonna sleep on the plane now?” Burky teases, and Tyson turns bright red. You make sure to take a picture of Burky from an unflattering angle in retaliation on Tyson’s behalf. Not that it necessarily makes Burky look any worse - that guy doesn’t have bad angles - but it’s the thought that counts. You sleep on the plane and keep yourself busy during the day, but when the evening rolls around, you sit in your quiet apartment and busy your hands as your mind winds down. Knitting may sounds like a grandma hobby, but it calms you down, thank you very much, and it means you’ve always got a personal gift for someone. For Christmas, your grandma has asked for a scarf, your mom wants a hat, and your aunt asked if you can knit a romper for your few months old niece. You have no idea how to do that, but surely you can figure it out. However, today, you don’t really feel like knitting any of those. Knitting those requests feels a little too much like work, right now, and you wanna knit just to knit. You don’t even realize you’re knitting mittens until you’re halfway through the first one. You don’t need mittens; you’ve got a good selection of them, a wide variety of colors. You remember your talk with JT and Tyson, yesterday. There’s someone who needs them. --- It’s weird, that’s something you’re sure of. To just give Tyson a Christmas gift, a handmade Christmas gift, and not have anything for the other guys. They would chirp you to hell and back and you’re not sure you’re ready for everyone to know about your teeny tiny crush on number 17. However, you can’t deny the fact that you knitted these mittens with only one person in mind, and it would feel weird to give them to anyone else. So, one morning, when Pepsi Center is still dark and there’s nobody around, you put them in Tyson’s stall without a note and decide to never think about it again. Which would be easier if you’re not the one having to do pregame interviews that day. “So, the Blues are obviously the reigning Stanley Cup champions...” - EJ pulls a face and you can’t help but agree - “how can you make sure you take the two points here tonight?” “Probably score some goals,” EJ says with a deadpan voice and a wide toothless grin, and you’re about to yell at him for being an awful person to interview when there’s a loud noise on the opposite side of the locker room. “Ah, sick!” The entire room turns to Tyson, who is beaming with excitement and looking at the mittens in his hands. “Someone got me gloves!” “Those aren’t gloves, those are mittens,” Cale says wisely. Tyson stares at him for a few seconds, then obviously decides to ignore him. “There’s no note,” he wonders out loud, and you really, really hope your blush isn’t too noticeable. EJ’s eyes are a little too fixed on your face. “Maybe it’s a secret admirer,” Mikko offers. “Maybe it’s someone who’s just as sick about you complaining about the cold as I am,” JT says. “Where are my mittens?” Z ponders. “You’re not getting any, you don’t deserve them,” says Nate, and Z goes to put him in a headlock. The boys start arguing about why they do or do not deserve mittens and EJ turns back to you. “So,” he says, “any more questions?” --- The boys win in OT and there’s excitement radiating through the locker room. You’re not doing the postgame; Lauren is, but you follow her around anyway, mostly because you love the locker room after a win. The happiness is contagious, and you find yourself smiling all evening. Most of the guys have gone home when Lauren packs up her final stuff. “What a game to end with before Christmas, huh?” she says, giving you a quick hug. “Merry Christmas, Y/N!” “You sure you don’t want to come?” JT’s voice is filled with enough worry that it catches your attention. You pretend to focus on packing your bag, the door slamming shut behind Lauren as she leaves. It’s just you, JT and Tyson, now. “Nah, man, it’s okay.” Tyson sounds a little down, which is not what you would’ve expected, after he scored to put them into OT earlier. “You’re with your girl, and I don’t wanna be a third wheel. I’ll be fine.” “But you can’t be alone on Christmas.” JT is clearly indignant. 

You’re just standing up when Tyson gives JT a playful shove. “Go, Comph. Go have a fun Christmas. I’ll be chill here.” JT rolls his eyes but gives Tyson a quick bro hug. As he’s leaving the locker room, he sends you a smile, a “happy holidays” and then he’s gone. You turn to Tyson. 

“You’re staying here for the holidays?” Tyson shrugs as he puts on his coat. It’s not nearly thick enough to be a winter coat, and he’s not wearing a scarf. He does however, take the mittens and put them on his hands. “My mom is on a cruise and Kacey is celebrating Christmas at her boyfriend’s house. Everyone is leaving me alone this year.” He’s trying to sound light, like he’s joking, but there’s a sharp edge in his voice that tells you it matters more to him than he’s willing to let on.

Something squeezes in your chest. Nobody should be alone on Christmas. “My family is coming to my apartment on Christmas Eve to have dinner, do you want to come?” You blurt it out before really thinking it through; it’s probably gonna be hard to explain to your parents, that you’re suddenly having a guy over for Christmas, and maybe Tyson will think it’s weird that you’re asking him: you just heard him tell JT no, so why would you think he wants to come hang out with you? But when you brave looking up at him, Tyson is smiling widely. “You sure?” he asks. “Is it not too much trouble? I can help you cook if you want. Or, you probably don’t want that, because I suck at cooking, but I can do whatever else you need me to do. I’d bring gifts for all your family, of course, and…” He’s rambling, and it’s cute. “Tys,” you interrupt him, and you can’t help how fond you sound. “They’ll love having you around. My dad is always saying it’s not fair, four girls and one guy, and my sister is bringing her girlfriend, so I could use a partner in crime, too.��� “Okay, that’d be awesome,” Tyson says truthfully, “thanks so much, Y/N.” He smiles at you brightly and then puts on his mittens. “Dude, these are so warm, I love them.” You nearly promise to make him a hat and scarf too, but then you figure you might’ve exceeded your maximum amount of weird for the day by inviting him to Christmas dinner, so you quietly follow him out to the parking lot while he excitedly chatters about Christmas movies. --- It’s the morning of Christmas Eve and you’re this close to having a mental breakdown. Your house is a mess; you figured you didn’t need to clean it, your family has seen it all, but now Tyson is coming and you would like him to not think you’re the biggest slob in the world. Also, there’s the fact that an extra mouth to feed means more food necessary, so you have to go to the store and get more groceries. All in all it means that when your doorbell rings, you’re still wearing an old Avs hoodie and leggings, and you’re pretty sure there’s cookie dough in your hair because you decided you needed dessert after all. It’s not like Tyson gets to sin all the time. Christmas is as good an excuse as any. “Hey,” Tyson smiles. He’s looking annoyingly nice, wearing a grey jumper and dark blue slacks. As soon as he sees the state of you, he frowns. “What is that in your hair?” “Cookie dough,” you tell him honestly. “You look nice.” “Thanks,” Tyson grins proudly, “I Facetimed Kacey to pick out the colors.” He walks into your apartment like he’s been there a million times before, pushes a bottle of wine into your hands and starts unpacking the bag with presents he brought, putting them under the tree. “Am I early?” “A little,” you admit. “I, uhm, kinda still need to shower. You know, get the cookie dough out of my hair.” You think about it, for a few seconds, then decide that you can trust Tyson with this one thing. “Can you take the cookies out of the oven in 10 minutes so I can shower?” Tyson nods, throws you a thumbs up and then parks his butt on the couch like that’s where he belongs.

It makes you feel... things.  And, well, you might take a little longer to get ready – putting a little more effort in your make up and hair than you would’ve if it had just been your family -  but the last thing you expect when you come back in is for everything to be ready. Except it is. There’s candles lit on your coffee table and the presents are all under the tree. Your mom has a glass of wine in her hands and greets you with a “honey, there you are!” Your sister and her girlfriend aren’t there yet, but your dad is standing at the dining table with Tyson. The dining table is fully laid and Tyson has a half eaten cookie in his hand. “Sorry,” he grins, when he spots you. “They just looked too good not to touch.” You must’ve been staring at the scene a little sheepishly, cause your mom laughs. “You okay there, honey?” 

“Uh yeah,” you bring out. “I see you met Tyson?” Your mom’s face instantly brightens. “Oh yes, we have, but if you want to do proper introductions…” For a split second, you panic, because you don’t actually know how to introduce Tyson – a friend? A coworker? You can’t really say an unreachable crush – but you’re saved by the door bell. “Y/N!” your sister says, giving you a quick sideways hug. “Amy and I brought some extra wine, in case you didn’t have enough booze and we have to listen to dad talk about baseball all evening while sober…” She stops dead in her tracks as soon as she sees Tyson. “Oh, hello.” “Thanks, Meg,” you mumble. “We uh, have enough, probably, cause Tyson brought some too.” Meg turns to you, wiggling her eyebrows. “A boy that brings wine? Keep him around, will ya.” You’re about to tell her to shut up, when your mom stands up. “Time for dinner!” --- It turns out Tyson fits in with your family right away, and you’re not even halfway through the night when you realize your catastrophically big mistake. Seeing him like this, as if he’s an integral part of your life already, does nothing to help your massive crush on him. Because Tyson is perfect. He talks sports with your dad and interior design with your mom – “My mom used to redecorate our place every year or so, you pick up some stuff” – and falls into a flawless routine of teasing you with Meg. He tops up glasses, passes the salt without being asked, and every now and then he sends you a smile that has your stomach turn in your body. It’s not until after dinner, when you’re standing in the kitchen with your mom, cleaning dishes, that you understand your mistake has been even bigger than you thought. “I’m so happy for you, sweetheart,” your mom coos. She’s looking at you with fond eyes. “I was worried, you know, that you never introduced us to a boy or girl. I don’t want you to be lonely here in Denver. But Tyson is such a lovely guy. You can tell he really loves you.” You can… what? “Oh, no, mom,” you stutter, “he’s not… He doesn’t…” “Oh, but he does,” she interrupts. “I see it in the way he looks at you, you know. When a person really loves someone, it’s in their eyes. And Tyson looks at you with love. You deserve someone who cares about you, babe, and I’m just so happy you’ve got someone here in Denver, when we’re so far away. I just don’t want you to be alone.” And, fuck, your mom clearly thinks you’re dating Tyson, and you realize you still haven’t introduced him properly to your family, of course they think you’re dating, who brings home a guy to Christmas for platonic reasons? You know you should tell her that you’re not dating, you know that, but she looks so genuinely happy, and you know if you tell her now it’ll break her heart. Quietly, you sneak a glance towards the living room. Your dad laughs at something Tyson says while Tyson ruffles through Meg’s hair. She swats at him, and Amy is smiling. Every single one of them would be upset to hear that Tyson is nothing more than a crush that’s way out of your league. 

You know you have to tell them. But maybe just not tonight. Maybe, just for one Christmas, you can let them be happy. “Thanks, mom,” you force out a smile and your mom returns to the dishes. It’s not even a few seconds later that Tyson wanders into the kitchen. “Hey,” he smiles, “can I help?” He leans into you and puts a hand on the small of your back and your heart flutters and it’s innocent, sure it is, he’s just trying to be friendly, but your mom gives you a knowing look as she says: “Sure, you guys finish up here,” and demonstratively closes the kitchen door behind her, leaving the two of you alone. “Your family is awesome,” Tyson grins, as he starts to dry the dishes. “Meg tells me you guys go skiing every February. Me and Kacey usually try to go during bye week, Meg said maybe we can go together!” And something inside of you bursts. “My family thinks we’re dating.” Tyson frowns, puts the plate he was drying down. “Oh, really?” He doesn’t sound upset by the fact, simply curious, and you sigh. You’re gonna have to explain this one. “I guess I just didn’t really think to tell them who you are or like, what we are? And so they just saw that I invited a guy to Christmas and they assumed that we’re together. They absolutely love you, Tys, and they always worry so much about me having a boyfriend, and I just…” You pause; you know you’re turning red and it’s impossible to get out the words. “Hey, it’s okay,” Tyson says gently. He reaches out, his hand landing on your arm in a gesture of comfort. “You don’t have to tell them now. We can just… date.” He flushes. “Fake date, I mean. For tonight. Or, like, however long you need us to.” “Really?” you ask, relieved, and Tyson laughs. “Don’t sound so surprised. As if it’s such a hardship, to pretend to be your boyfriend.” He shoots you a wink, puts the final plate away and wanders back to the living room. Leaving you absolutely stunned, wondering what just happened. --- “Gifts!” Meg says, clasping her hands together. “The true meaning of Christmas!” Your mom gives her a disapproving look, but even your dad is eyeing the presents under the tree with a little too much interest.   “I’ll go first,” Tyson says with shining eyes, “being the new one in the family, and all that.” “Ah, yay, it’s not me anymore,” Amy giggles, and you swear to God you are going to die. Somehow, despite not knowing your family, Tyson nailed his gifts. Your dad is over the moon with his new slippers, your mom keeps sniffing the scented candle he gives her, and Meg smacks Tyson across the head with the Avalanche beanie he got her, until she notices there’s two tickets to a musical that Amy has been wanting to see in there. 

You’re a little jealous, because you love gifts like that, until Tyson hands you an envelope. “I heard you tell Gravy how much you like them,” he says, and he sounds a little off. Nervous, even. “And if you need a plus one…” He wiggles his eyebrows and laughs, but even his giggle comes out a little nervous. In the envelope is two tickets to your favorite band, who are playing in Denver next month. You didn’t end up getting tickets cause they were sold out stupidly quickly and were ridiculously expensive in resale. “Oh my God, Tys, that’s way too much,” you tell him in awe, but Tyson just shrugs. “No use for an NHL salary if you can’t spend it on the people you care about.” It sounds weirdly genuine, a deeper level of something ringing through, but it’s way too much to unpack right now. You feel a little stupid about your gift for him, now – a nice wallet cause his old one looks like it’s been through a lot – although Tyson seems really happy with it, even gives you a hug to say thank you. For the rest of your family, you’ve got a normal gift and something knitted, as extra, and it’s not until you catch sight of the deep frown on Tyson’s face that you realize something. Fuck. You forgot about the fucking mittens. “Isn’t it cute, Tyson?” your mom says, as she wraps the scarf you made her around her neck. “She always knits people gifts. I swear it’s her way of saying how much she loves them. She spends so much time on these.” She pauses. “I mean, you’ve probably been with her while she makes them, you know.” “Yeah,” says Tyson, slowly, although you know he has no clue. After that, it’s like you can’t even really enjoy the rest of the night; you can’t focus on the Christmas movie Meg puts on, can’t focus on how cute it is when she cuddles up with Amy, can’t focus on how fondly your mom is smiling down at you or your dad’s soft snores as he falls asleep halfway through. You can focus on Tyson’s thigh pressed against yours, and how you have no idea how to explain to him why you knitted him those mittens. Finally, your mom stands up, gently kicks your dad’s legs, and smiles at you. “I think it’s time for us to go,” she says. “I’m sure you two wants to enjoy some part of Christmas Eve in privacy, too.” “Mom,” you scold her, feeling your cheeks heat up. Tyson grins at you. By the door, as your mom gives you a hug, she whispers: “He’s a keeper, honey,” and you nearly tell her everything. “Yeah, he’s alright,” Meg says way too loudly, and you hear Tyson giggle in the background and you decide to shut up. The door closes behind them and immediately, Tyson stretches out on the couch. “Ah,” he says. “I’m pretty good at impressing the in laws, no?” You don’t remind him that they’re not actually his in laws. Instead, you fall back onto the couch and groan. “Are you not gonna make fun of me for knitting you mittens and leaving them anonymously in your stall?” you ask, because you might as well get over it. Tyson frowns. “Why would I do that? Those mittens rock, my hands haven’t been cold since.” You blush. “Yeah, but, don’t you think it’s weird that I made those? I didn’t make any for the rest of the team.” For a second, he seems to think about that. Then he moves a little closer, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. Electricity zips through your veins at the contact. “I kinda hoped that meant something,” Tyson says slowly. “Tell me if I’m wrong?” You only had two glasses of wine but you feel like your world is spinning as Tyson moves closer tauntingly slowly. Finally, his lips touch yours, and you understand every cliché ever written into any romantic Christmas movie. When his hand moves to your thigh, settles on the skin right below the hem of your dress, you yelp.

“How are your hands still cold?” 

Tyson chuckles. “I mean, I haven’t been wearing my mittens, so...” 

---

Years later, you’re laying on the couch with your daughter, watching a Christmas movie after having just set up the tree.

“Daddy, what was your favorite Christmas present Santa ever gave you?” your daughter asks. 

Tyson sends you a private look above her head, then focuses on her. 

“A pair of hand knitted mittens.” 

“Like the one mommy made me?” she asks, and he grins.

“Yeah, kinda like that.”

from a to z, you and me

chapter 3!!  now to explain, the past two chapters were moments from cyrus and tj’s lives that have gotten them to where they are today.  from now on, we’re staying in the present!  hope you enjoy and don’t be afraid to reblog or leave a comment :)

Now

tippen jippen kippen: what’s my contact name this week

cy: tippen jippen kippen

tippen jippen kippen: aRE YOU KIDDING ME

cy: i think it suits u better than theodore

tippen jippen kippen: better than broccoli boi i guess

cy: that was a really good contact name actually, hold up

broccoli boi: COME ON

~

Cyrus’ stomach is sinking into his shoes.  He feels like he’s fourteen again, sitting across from Buffy at The Spoon, trying to get up the courage to tell her he likes Jonah Beck.  That time, however, he had had the underlying feeling that he was going to come out okay.  This time, he wasn’t so sure.

“Cyrus come on.  It’s just one loop.”

“One loop over and over again!” Cyrus fails his arms in panic.  Buffy rolls her eyes and steals another bite of Marty’s cotton candy.  The GHC plus Jonah, his boyfriend, Marty, and TJ had all shown up to the Turtle Creek funfair for the weekend.  While the first part of the morning had been cooing over baby animals and eating copious amounts of ice cream, the afternoon was all rides.  All.  The.  Time.  

Cyrus didn’t have anything against rides really, but this was his last weekend before school started back up again (junior year, whoop whoop!) and he really didn’t want his last summer weekend to be tainted with the memory of him throwing up constantly.  Jonah gives him a sympathetic look before tucking an arm around his boyfriend Walker’s shoulders.  

“Cy, it’ll be fun!”

“No,” Cyrus folds his arms and starts walking decidedly away from the lineup to the Fireball.  He doesn’t care if his friends think he’s lame, even JOnah’s cool new boyfriend.  All he wants is sugar therapy, and he’s pretty sure he saw some mini donuts around the bumper car attraction.

“Cyrus, wait up!” Cyrus turns and TJ is jogging lightly towards him.  Cyrus feels his stomach dip slightly in anticipation and he wants to scold himself.  It’s no secret to anyone that he has a soft spot for TJ.  EVer since they were pen pals when they were little, he’s held a certain spot in his heart for him.  Even though they don’t write letters to each other anymore, the connection is still there.  Lately, however, the soft spot has been growing into something that’s horribly close to a crush and Cyrus can’t stop himself from weakening a bit at the knees whenever TJ looks at him anymore.

“Aren’t you going on the Fireball?” He shuffles his feet back and forth awkwardly.  TJ shrugs.

“Eh.  I live here.  I can come back after school Monday if I really want.”  Cyrus sinks a little remembering.  They still live in different cities.  When TJ’s parents split up when he was in the seventh grade and TJ was in the eighth, Cyrus remembers TJ’s petition to get them to move to Shadyside.  His mom eventually vetoed the idea, claiming that moving TJ and his older sister Amber to a new school halfway through a year was more trouble than it was worth.  Cyrus also remembers the grumpy way TJ wrote his letters during that time.  It was one of the last few months they wrote letters before Cyrus’ parents caved and bought him a cellphone and texting became their go to instead of pen and paper.

“Right.  School.  Different schools,” Cyrus can’t stop his gloomy tone from filtering into his voice.  TJ tosses an arm around Cyrus’ shoulders and guides him to the mini donut stand.

“Hey, if you somehow got a car to drive, you could come to see me every weekend,” TJ’s toothy smile makes Cyrus laugh.  The last time he tried to drive to Turtle Creek was with his mom one week after getting his license.  Cyrus had driven the car into a ditch and freaked out for twenty minutes straight before having his car privileges revoked for a year due to “excessive mental distress” or something.  He jabs TJ in the ribs.

“Jerk.”

They buy a bucket of mini donuts and sit on a bench next to the log flume while stuffing their faces.  Cyrus wipes crystals of sugar off TJ’s face and he smirks at him in return.  The twisty feeling in Cyrus’ stomach is back and he tries to force it down.

He knows TJ is gay.  He remembers the phone call from what’s now almost five years ago.  He remembers TJ admitting his crush on the boy with fluffy brown hair and he remembers how he was stunned into silence because he felt the same way too.  That, however, doesn’t seem to ever matter because, in the five years since TJ dropped his major truth bomb, Cyrus has yet to tell him that he’s gay.

Everyone else knows.  Literally everyone.  Even Walker, who after watching them for five minutes, turned to Jonah and asked “are they dating?” and Jonah had to answer “no because TJ doesn’t know he’s gay.”  He’s come out to everyone they’re currently with, but not TJ.  He doesn’t even have a good explanation.  It would just be too weird after so long to bring it up.  Especially when he knows after his disastrous seventh-grade fling with Iris that he could never like a girl again.  

Somehow, when he looks at TJ like this though, no hint of any romantic chemistry or anything between them, he gets it.  Telling him would change things.  It always would.

Eventually, the rest of their friends filter back, Andi looking slightly greener than usual.  Cyrus rubs her back in solidarity.  They only have a few more minutes before Amber heads back to pick them up, and Marty is the one to suggest they try the Ferris Wheel.  Andi shakes her head and votes to wait for Amber by the gate, her crush only slightly obvious, and Jonah and Walker follow along behind them.  TJ extends a hand to Cyrus.

“Come on, Cy.  I think you can handle this one.”

“Okay, Broccoli Boy,” TJ groans but still grins as Cyrus follows him.  They pair up, as usual, Buffy and Marty arguing with each other as they hold hands and board the ride.  TJ talks a blue streak in Cyrus’ ear about almost falling off the ride once and Cyrus has to lecture him about safety.  Once they’re up in the air though, his heart thuds in his chest as he realizes just how close they’re sitting.  TJ’s still talking but Cyrus is only focusing on how his lips curve around his smile and how TJ is just so damn pretty.

“Right?”  Cyrus looked up in panic at TJ’s amused face.

“Huh?”

“I knew you weren’t listening to me,” TJ smirked.  

“I was!  I just happened to have zoned out right before your question.”

“Okay, what was I talking about?”  Cyrus stays silent and TJ erupts into laughter.

“You’re a dork, dude.”

“Yeah, I know,” Cyrus shrugs before swallowing his nerves and tucking his head into TJ’s shoulder.  TJ wraps his arm around Cyrus’ shoulder and he’s hit with the sudden yearning to yell “I’m gay!” from the rooftops.  Not that he will.  Maybe when he’s married and TJ’s the best man.

The ride ends soon after that, and the teens stumble together into Amber’s SUV that she stole from their mother, Jonah’s beat up truck and Andi’s bright yellow Jeep.  Cyrus is saying goodbye to Marty when TJ bursts into their conversation.

“Hey, wanna sleepover?  Not you,” he directs to Marty before refocusing on Cyrus.  Cyrus’ eyes widen.

“Andi’s my ride.”

“I’ll drive you back tomorrow before work.”  It’s the slight desperation in TJ’s eyes that makes Cyrus cave.  He retracts his goodbye to Marty, they’ll be in the same car in like twenty minutes, and instead turns to say goodbye to the rest of his friends.

“Make a move, Goodman,” Buffy says in kind frustration as he hugs her goodbye.

“Never,” Cyrus smiles sweetly.  He hugs Andi goodbye, checks his phone again to make sure that staying over is okay, and bounds back into Amber’s car.  She grins at him in the rearview mirror.

“Hey, Cyrus!”

“Hey, Amber.  When do classes start?”

“Next week, I move out on Saturday.”

“Cool,” Cyrus nods.  Amber had graduated the year before and chosen to go to Drexel University for dance.  They were all proud of her but Andi was mourning how far away she would be in Pennsylvania.  

TJ slid into the front seat after completing a complicated handshake with Jonah and smiled deeply at Cyrus.

“Okay let’s go. Drop off Mr. The Party.”

“Still offended I’m not invited.”

~

Dear TJ,

Today I got pajamas with stegosauruses on them and I was so happy. My mom says they’re an early birthday present but my birthday is in three months so it seems kinda weird to me. Anyways, I also joined a science club with Andi. She joined to make pretty colors with chemicals and I joined to be smarter. Although I’m pretty sure all we mix is lemon juice and baking soda. How was your day?  I hope you made th-

“I can’t believe you’re reading that,” TJ teased as he tossed a sleeping bag at Cyrus. Cyrus smiled and laid down his letter.

“I was a cute kid. I like to remember.” TJ laughed and pressed play on the John Mulaney special they were watching for the fourth time and settled back into his blanket mold. Cyrus joined him after unzipping the sleeping bag to lay on his legs.

“I can’t believe you kept those,” Cyrus shakes his head in disbelief. TJ gives him a look.

“Didn’t you?”

“Well yeah. But that’s my kinda thing. Not yours.”

“I have layers, Underdog,” the cliché nickname slipped through TJ’s lips smoothly and Cyrus blushed at remembering the day on the swings he had given it to him.

He loves remembering his friendship with TJ.  It makes him feel more warm and fuzzy inside than usual.  That’s part of the reason that he hides his sexuality like he does.  He doesn’t want TJ to think he doesn’t trust him or that he wasn’t important enough to know.  He doesn’t ever want TJ to think he doesn’t mean anything.  

Instead of pressing him on his layers, or even talking about his own, Cyrus snuggles down and continued to laugh at the horse in a hospital sketch.

After all, he’s got some layers too.

taglist <3:

@illbeyourreasonwhy @tyrusflavoredtea @homosexualearthworm @proshipperandfangirl @bambikippen @unsteady-but-trying @sweet-cyrus @zooperx @ibroughtachallah @rellahad @cool-anonymous-tyrus-shipper