Work Text:
I’m gonna go home, get in bed, and sleep for days. Dylan thinks as he slots the key into the lock of his apartment and pushes it open, barely managing to catch himself on the edge of the couch as his weight makes him topple over the threshold and down towards the laminated floor. Well, that went well. Shaking his head, he starts to take off his shoes and leather jacket, throwing them somewhere to his left as he throws himself down on his couch.
The insistent ringing of his phone shakes him awake. He feels like he must’ve been asleep for hours but the phone tells him that it wasn’t more than a few minutes. He frowns as he sees Tyler’s name appear in a glare in the dark room and rubs his eyes before answering the phone.
“Yeah?” He croaks out, his throat feeling sore from sleep and the lack of fluids he’d completely forgotten about today. He didn’t have time to think about drinking enough water. He didn’t even have time to take a toilet break. Today has been a really busy day, running from one press room to another, smiling and repeating the same stories, again and again, answering the same questions.
“D, you there?”
Tyler’s voice in his ear breaks him out of his thoughts and he shakes his head and lays down on the couch, feet resting on the arms of the couch as he gets more comfortable.
“Yeah, I’m here, sorry. Just got home.”
“Hard day?”
Dylan nods only to remember that Tyler can’t see him. “Mhm,” He hums, burrowing himself even more into the couch’s cushions, “...long day.”
Sighing, he closes his eyes and puts his phone down besides his head on the pillow, head tilted to the side so it doesn’t fall.
“Have you eaten something today?”
Dylan shakes his head and closes his eyes, just for a second. He doesn’t know how long he actually stays like that. He can still hear Tyler talking through the phone, his voice getting louder and louder until it stops completely and so do his thoughts as he falls asleep, his arm hanging off the couch and the phone stuck behind his neck where it gets stuck between the couch and him.
______________________________________________________________________________
He wakes up thirty minutes later, completely disoriented, to a loud boom that resonates in his head. Confused, he sits up, hand coming up to rest against his forehead in an effort to lessen the pressure pounding in his head. He sits there, his arms crossing in a nest over his knees, head held between his hands as he breathes through the pain, until a hand on his shoulder wakes him up fully. His heart starts beating fast and loud against his ribcage, fear ripping him as he thinks about a dozen possible scenarios in his head. Maybe someone followed him home? A fan? Did he even close the door behind him? He’d been so tired. He can’t remember how he got to the couch. He can barely remember how he even got home at all. Raising his head with bated breath, Dylan looks up and feels his body relax at once at the person he sees standing over him.
“Hoech?”
He frowns, confused as to why Tyler is standing in his living-room wearing basketball shorts, a white tank top, and a black apron.
“Hey,” Tyler says, his voice soft, as he crouches down to sit on the coffee table, his knees knocking against Dylan’s. “How are you feeling?”
“I...What are you…” Dylan stumbles over his words, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Taking a deep breath, he tries to control his mouth to form actual words and not that gibberish he’s been spouting out all day. “I’m fine. Tired. My head is killing me.” He says with a wince, pressing the palm of his hand harder against the side of his head.
He doesn’t see what Tyler is doing as he closes his eyes one more time, trying to alleviate the pain shooting behind his eyes, so it comes as quite a surprise when he feels the hands resting on his shoulders come up to rest over his own fingers. He blinks in surprise and sends a questioning glance at Tyler who merely gives him a gentle smile and starts applying pressure onto Dylan’s fingers with his own, forming circles around his temples. Dylan sighs, his eyes falling back closed after a few seconds as the throbbing pain starts to loosen its hold on him.
They stay that way, massaging his head together in gentle movements, for a few minutes before Tyler senses that Dylan is starting to nod off once more.
“Don’t fall asleep on me.” He says with a smile as he withdraws his hand from under Dylan’s, his fingers lingering in a caress down his cheek before he gets up from the table.
“M’not sleeping.” Dylan protests weakly, eyes re-opening to look up at Tyler. “Where are you going?” He asks faintly, brows furrowing.
“Where we are going is the kitchen.” Tyler replies as he grabs Dylan’s hands to hoist him up.
Dylan makes a noise in the back of his throat.
______________________________________________________________________________
“Come on,” Tyler says as he puts his hands under Dylan’s arms to help him stand up. “Let’s get some food in you. You’ll feel better after.” He starts walking towards the kitchen, where he’d come from earlier. He helps him to walk, Dylan’s weight supported by Tyler’s embrace. His hands helping to carry him towards the fumes floating from the kitchen.
As they approach closer and closer, Dylan notices a smell that awakes his hunger, makes him stand a little taller as he tries to peer down into the pot bubbling away on the stove as they walk past towards the table, placed near the french windows.
“Did you make me chicken broth?” Dylan asks, his head resting on his hand, supported by his elbow leaning heavily on the tabletop as he watches Tyler walk back to check on the pot, “...from scratch?” He adds in an incredulous tone, his eyes widening.
He can’t see Tyler’s face but what he can see is the shrug of his shoulders, the shifting of his muscles visible through the thin material of the shirt covering his back.
“It’s not a big deal.” He replies, his voice just as quiet as it had been ever since Dylan had woken up.
Tyler rounds the kitchen island and takes a few careful strides towards the round table to deposit the steaming bowl of soup in front of him. Dylan inhales deeply, his stomach rumbling as the smell of the food hits his senses.
Groaning, he stretches and grabs his spoon, leaning down to blow on the food to cool it down enough for him to eat. Although, as famished as he is, he wouldn’t hesitate to gobble it down in one go were it not for Tyler’s careful watch over him.
“Dude, sit down, you’re making me dizzy.” He says, lips wrapping carefully around the spoon. Closing his eyes, he moans out loud and licks his lips after he takes the spoon out of his mouth. He looks across the table at Tyler, eyes round and happy, “Dude, if I had the strength to get up, I’d marry you right now.”
Chuckling, Tyler grins at him and leans forward, his elbows resting on the edge of the table, “Is that so?”
Seeming to realize what he’d just said, Dylan blushes and hangs his head down, suddenly fascinated with his bowl of soup. He only lifts his head when he hears the sound of Tyler chuckling as he grabs a chair and sits down with his own bowl of soup.
They eat in silence for a while, the only sounds heard through the house being the little noises of contentment Dylan emits as he eats and Tyler’s responding quiet laughs.
“That was awesome.” Dylan says as he puts down his spoon and leans back on his chair, stretching one more time. This time he doesn’t miss the way Tyler stares at the patch of skin showing as his shirt rides up.
“Thanks.” Tyler mumbles, cheeks reddening.
Raising his eyebrows up and down, Dylan smirks. “Maybe I should hire you full time.”
Tyler rolls his eyes and puts down his own spoon before he gets up and starts gathering everything up to put them in the sink for later. “Instead of talking nonsense, maybe you should go wash up so you can sleep. You look like you’re about to fall out of your chair.”
“I think I’d rather head to bed straight away."
Tyler turns around and lifts an eyebrow at him in reply.
______________________________________________________________________________
Dylan decides it’s better to follow Tyler’s advice and to head towards the bathroom for a quick wash before even attempting to get into bed. He feels gross. The weight of the day feels heavy on his body, sweat and dirt accumulating from many hours spent running around and getting equipped for interviews. He hates the feel of people touching him all day. He know it’s their job and his by default and he doesn’t have anything against them. He would rather just not have strangers putting their hands over his body.
Standing up, he walks past Tyler, letting his fingers trail across his back as he moves towards the bathroom.
He tries to forget about the man currently standing in his kitchen, washing the the plates they had just been eating out of as if this was something they did every day. It wasn’t. Sure, they hang out in each other’s trailers while they’re shooting but they don’t really see each other outside of work or events. Not much at least. Especially since Dylan has been so busy promoting his movie and Tyler has been all over the world, participating in fan conventions. The thought brings a bittersweet smile to his face. He wishes he could go more often but it was either him or Tyler. Alpha Con had been a fluke, one he thoroughly enjoyed even though it didn’t end as well as he’d hoped it would.
Shaking the thought from his head, Dylan takes his clothes off and climbs into the shower. He turns it on, sighing as the water falls over him in warm waves as he hangs his head, his hair falling over his eyes.
“Feeling better?” Tyler’s voice reaches him through the sound of the water falling and he turns his head to squint at him through water-filled eyes.
Dylan doesn’t say anything in reply, he just turns the water off after quickly washing himself, or as quickly as he can since his limbs feel heavy, the tiredness of the day taking its toll back on him. Tyler is there, holding a towel out for him from where he’s resting against the doorjamb of the bathroom. He puts his hands on Dylan’s back, the warmth of his fingers seeping through him as he guides him towards the bedroom. There Tyler helps him sit on his bed as he goes rummaging through the dresser for some underwear.
After letting him dress himself, Tyler gets out of the room to turn the lights off in the house before going back to the bedroom. Dylan is now laying on his side, on the bed, fingers clutching at his pillow. He smiles softly at the sight, walking forward until he can crouch down on his knees to pull the covers over Dylan’s body, patting the blanket down to enclose him in the warm linen. “Ready to sleep?” He murmurs as his hand rises of its own volition to run his fingers through the hair at the nape of Dylan’s neck.
“Only if you stay..” is the mumbled request he replies with, one which Tyler is more than happy to comply with. He stands up and walks to the other side of the bed, takes his shirt off before climbing into the bed. As he pulls the covers back over him, he turns the light off and lays down, his heart beating slowly against his ribcage as he settles down. It’s not long before he gives in to his impulse, fitting his body along Dylan’s, his hand resting over his chest as he breathes into Dylan’s shoulder.
“I missed you, too.”