Work Text:
Josh hates his hands.
He always takes care in hiding them in public. Keeping them in his pockets. Tugging his sleeves over them. They're ugly. He hates letting people see them.
Tyler noticed. Tyler always notices when things are off. It's like his power.
(Josh probably hates that power more than he hates his hands.)
Tyler's nice, though. Tyler doesn't like getting into people's personal space, prying into things he has no right to pry in. So he stands by Josh (quietly noticing his ticks and habits) and keeps quiet. He knows that Josh would tell him what was wrong eventually, or he'll accidentally stumble across the answer himself.
Tyler's patient.
-
It was a lapse. Josh got too comfortable. Too careless.
He had his hands outside of his pocket. They were resting on the table. Tapping the surface. Josh didn't even notice.
Not until he felt Tyler touch them.
His blood ran cold. Quick as a rabbit fleeing from a dog, his hands were back in his pockets. Josh stared at the counter, trying not to look at Tyler. Trying to ignore the stares he felt.
"Josh..."
Josh winced. He messed up. He slowly lifted his head. Tyler looked concerned. Questions behind his eyes. Mouth open and ready to say something. Nothing came out. Josh knew that Tyler was waiting for him to speak first. He didn't want to speak at all.
Still, Josh sighed and turned his gaze back to the table. He slowly took his hands out of his jacket pocket.
They laid in his lap. Discolored and covered in scar tissue. Ripped cuticles, red knuckles, purple blotches.
"I..." Josh took a deep breath and let it out shakily. "I bite. My hands."
Tyler was quiet. Josh closed his eyes and waited for the condemnation. For the disgust.
"Josh."
Josh squeezed his eyes tighter before looking back up at Tyler. To his surprise, he didn't look disgusted. Just concerned.
Tyler had his arm stretched across the table, palm out. Josh knew what he wanted, but he didn't comply. He shook his head and looked down. Why would Tyler want to hold his hand?
His hands were gross and ugly. They were rough, covered in ridges and callouses. The areas around his too short nails were scabbed. Gross gross gross his hands were so gross and it was all his fault—
Josh realized that he had the knuckle of his thumb between his teeth and he wanted to cry. He felt so vulnerable. The thing he hated most about himself was bared in front of the most important person in his life.
Then Josh felt a hand on his shoulder. He felt fingers massage his shoulder lightly before the hand slid down his arm. Josh stared uncomprehending at the hand resting on top of his own.
He slowly looked up at Tyler, a few small tears escaping his eyes. "Why?"
Tyler quietly wiped the tears away with his other hand. "Why not?"
The tenderness of the gesture made Josh cry harder. "W-who would wanna stick around with the freak that eats his own hands?" He ducked his head and let the tears flow freely. Dripping from his face to the hands in his lap.
Tyler frowned. He traced the outline of an old bite mark on the back of Josh's palm. "Who would be heartless enough to abandon their best friend because of something they obviously can't help?"
Josh's breath hitched when he heard that. Something they obviously can't help. He looked up at Tyler with wide eyes. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Tyler continued to trace patterns on the back of Josh's hand and Josh would be lying if he said that it wasn't soothing.
Tyler gingerly lifted Josh's hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on a chewed up knuckle. He kept kissing. Every discolored splotch. Every old bite mark. Every callous. Tyler pressed the hand against his cheek and sighed softly. "You're beautiful, Josh. Even if your hands are rough and damaged."
Josh could barely process the words. This whole thing left him shocked. Numb. This whole situation was so far detached from anything he was used to.
He wasn't used to gentle displays of affection of any kind, let alone any directed at his hands. His hands. He was used to derision. Teasing.
'Your fingers match your hair.' 'Does your hand taste good?'
Josh stared at Tyler. Stared at his hand resting against Tyler's cheek. He couldn't believe it. He ducked his head and cried as Tyler held him.
He was surprised to find that he was happy.
-
It was a few days later when Tyler walked up to Josh and said three words that lifted a previously unperceived weight off of his shoulders.
"It's called Dermatophagia."