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Really, Tyler doesn't know what he was expecting. His high school friends had been assholes when they were in high school, and all they've done is grown into even bigger assholes. Maybe he was hoping they had changed when he agreed to go for drinks with them.
Maybe he was just being stupid.
They're laughing about something Tyler doesn't know, probably something stupid and offensive and Tyler couldn't care less. He mumbles something about going to go get another drink before heading for the bar. He's not even sure if anyone notices.
"What can I get you?" the bartender asks, but Tyler doesn't hear the question, because Joshua Dun has just walked up behind the bar. He's wiping his mouth, and when his and Tyler's eyes lock, he only pauses for a second. Other than that, he shows no sign that he recognized Tyler.
"Sir? What do-" The bartender cuts himself off when he sees Tyler staring at Josh. "Ah."
Tyler furrows his eyebrows at the bartender's understanding expression. Tyler doesn't even understand what's going on.
"He's really good," the bartender says suddenly. "I mean, it's not my thing, but I've heard a lot of good things about his mouth."
Tyler blinks. "What?"
"Apparently he has no gag reflex," the bartender says. "Or at least very good control over it."
"...what?"
"And I've heard some good things about his hands, too," the barkeep adds.
"...oh," Tyler says, utterly lost.
"So, uh, I'll leave you two to it, then," the bartender says before walking in the other direction.
Josh leans in and looks Tyler in the eye.
"So, you're coming back?" he asks, jerking his head in the direction of the hallway leading to rooms with doors reading Staff Only.
"I- sure," Tyler says, confused by Josh's phrasing. Why couldn't he just have said, "Do you want to talk in private?"
Josh nods, looking a little skeptical, but hops over the side of the bar. Tyler gets an eyeful of Josh's muscles flexing beneath his too-tight shirt, and tries not to blush. He's not a kid anymore. Josh certainly isn't a kid anymore, judging by the colorful tattoos decorating his arm.
"Come on," Josh says gruffly, and Tyler follows him into one of the rooms.
Tyler looks around. The only piece of furniture there is a worn looking sofa, and Tyler thinks he sees something- boxers? sticking out from between the cushions, but Josh starts talking before Tyler can get a better look.
"What do you want?" Josh asks.
"What?" Tyler asks, confused.
"What do you want?" Josh repeats, looking impatient.
"I- I don't know what-"
"Handjob with a condom, $30. Handjob without, $35. Blowjob with a condom, $45. Blowjob without, $50." Josh pauses, looking at Tyler. "A fuck with a condom and a fuck without varies, depending on who's taking."
"...what?" Tyler stammers. He looks around, and his eyes lock on the tissues, box of condoms, and bottle on the sofa that his eyes completely missed. Oh, no.
"Hurry up," Josh snaps. "I don't have all day."
"I..." Tyler says, wide-eyed. "Oh, Josh."
"Hurry up," Josh repeats.
"What happened to you?" Tyler whispers, taking a step closer to his old friend.
"Hurry the fuck up," Josh snarls, and he looks so intimidating that Tyler automatically takes a few steps back. "Either pick one or leave."
And Josh... Josh kind of looks like he's perfectly capable of whipping out a knife and holding it to Tyler's throat if he doesn't do something soon. Tyler doesn't want to pay for any of those things, but he can't just leave Josh, so he finds himself fumbling for his wallet and shoving a fistful of bills at Josh.
Josh counts the money slowly, not breaking eye contact with Tyler. Tyler shivers a little.
"Just enough for an unprotected blowjob," he says before pocketing the money, sinking to his knees, and reaching for Tyler's belt.
"Whoa, whoa," Tyler says, stepping out of Josh's reach. "Just keep the money, okay?"
"I don't want your fucking charity," Josh snaps, reaching for Tyler's belt again. "Just let me get this over with."
"No, no, it's okay-"
"Do you want me to keep the money or not?" Josh demands, still reaching out.
"Yes," Tyler says. Yes, of course.
"Then let me fucking blow you," Josh growls.
Tyler swallows hard. He wants to say no, no, he doesn't want to do this, but Josh is skinny, too skinny and he's wearing a threadbare shirt and the rips in his jeans don't look purposeful.
He closes his eyes. "Okay," he whispers.
Josh doesn't waste a second before he's unbuckling Tyler's belt and unbuttoning his pants. He pulls Tyler dick out with practiced ease that makes Tyler feel sick.
Josh jerks Tyler a few times before leaning in. Tyler didn't expect Josh to take him down completely the first time, but Josh does.
Completely.
Tyler chokes a little.
Josh works quickly, bobbing up and down in short, methodical motions. Despite the obvious mechanicalness to his movements, it's still the best blowjob Tyler's ever had.
He wants to punch himself for that revelation. This is Josh, Josh, someone who once called him his best friend.
Josh does something with his tongue, and Tyler covers his mouth with his hands in an attempt to muffle the sound he makes in response.
It's embarrassing, really, how Tyler gets so close so quickly.
"I'm gonna, I'm gonna," Tyler gasps out urgently. Josh just keeps going, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and his eyes locked on Tyler's.
Tyler buries his head in his hands as he feels the unwelcome orgasm hit. He's doing this, he did it, he paid a prostitute and came in his mouth.
He paid someone he once called a friend to suck him off, oh gosh.
Tyler feels tears start to run down his cheeks as he pants through his orgasm. Josh swallows it all before pulling off.
Tyler stays still, his head still buried in his hands and his dick hanging out, limp.
"Well, that's a new one."
Tyler looks up to see Josh standing up, wiping his mouth.
"What's a new one?" Tyler asks, surprised by how shot his voice is, like he was the one going down instead of Josh. He quickly zips his pants back up.
"I've seen a lot of reactions," Josh says without much of tone to his voice, "but I don't recall anyone crying."
Tyler buries his head back into his hands.
"There are tissues there if you need them," Josh says, pointing. "Bye."
He's halfway out the door when Tyler says, "Wait."
"What, Tyler?" Josh sighs, and Tyler's stomach twists a little, because that's the first time Josh has really acknowledged that they know each other.
Knew each other.
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
"Is that it?" Josh says impatiently. "I could have more customers."
Tyler closes his eyes. "Let me help you. Please."
Josh is silent, and Tyler looks up to see him looking absolutely furious.
"Do you think I need help?" he hisses. He pauses, seeming to expect an answer.
"Um," Tyler says.
"Well, I don't," he snaps. "I'm fine. Is that all?"
"I-" Tyler stares at him.
Josh snorts as he walks out. "I thought so."
"Back again?" the barkeep asks as Tyler walks up.
"Uh. Yeah," Tyler says, scratching the back of his neck.
"He's with another client right now. Could I get you something to drink while you wait?"
"...sure," Tyler says as he takes a seat on one of the stools. "Just a Coke, please."
The bartender nods.
Tyler's nearly finished with his Coke by the time a back room door opens and a heavily tattooed, muscled man walks out, looking satisfied. He gets up to head to the back room, but the bartender stops him.
"Not until he comes back," he says. Tyler's stomach churns.
Josh finally emerges, looking worn. He's limping slightly and he pauses when he sees Tyler sitting there.
"Not tonight," he says, walking up. "I'm done for the night."
"I just want to talk," Tyler says. He notices the bartender standing there and looking a little too attentive, and Josh grabs Tyler's arm. "Where are we going?"
"You want to talk, right?" Josh mumbles. "We can fucking talk."
The night air is cold on Tyler's skin, and it doesn't help that he's already terrified of what Josh might do. Before, Tyler would've trusted Josh with his life, but now he doesn't even know the man.
"What do you really want, Tyler?" Josh says with a sigh as he finally releases his grip on Tyler's arm.
"I just want to talk," Tyler whispers.
Josh sighs, rubbing his face with his hands. "All right," Josh says, looking up. "Talk."
"Um..." Tyler says, thrown off.
Josh snorts. "Figured." He turns around to walk out along the sidewalk, back to wherever he lives.
"Why are you doing this?" Tyler says suddenly, and Josh turns back around.
"I do a lot of things," Josh says evenly. "Do you want to clarify?"
"You know," Tyler says softly. "The pro... prostit..."
"The prostitution?" Josh says. "You want to know why I whore myself out?"
Tyler wonders if this is a trick question. "Yes?"
"Asking or telling?" Josh says.
"Um. Telling."
"Because things didn't work out," Josh says simply. "Because you couldn't get what we had together."
"Don't you dare," Tyler says, shaking his head. "Don't you dare blame me."
"I'm not blaming you," Josh says quickly. He pauses. "Well, I am a little. But that's probably just leftover me inside." He smiles dryly.
Tyler wants to cry. He wants to give Josh some food, some clothes that fit, and a hug. He wants to take him away from that bar and keep him in a little ball where no one can hurt him. He wants, he wants, he wants...
"Why this, though?" he asks instead.
"Accident, really," Josh says, leaning against the wall.
Tyler furrows his eyebrows. "Accident?"
"I was wandering on the streets," Josh says, not sounding ashamed at all. "Just wandering. And some guy stopped me and gave me twenty bucks. At first I thought he mistook me as homeless, but he took me back to his car and unbuckled his belt."
"And you did it?" Tyler whispers.
Josh shrugs. "I hadn't eaten in two days."
Tyler runs his fingers through his hair. "What about your parents?"
"What about them?"
"Couldn't they have given you money?"
Josh stares at him. "I wasn't going to go crawling on my stomach to anyone, Tyler." He kicks the wall. "Too much pride."
"And hooking is something for the prideful," Tyler says sardonically.
Josh scowls, and for a second Tyler thinks he's going to punch him, but Josh just sighs, shaking his head.
"You're right," Josh says softly. "I shouldn't be doing this. But I'm too damn good at this now."
"Music, Josh," Tyler whispers. "Drumming. What happened?"
"I had to sell my kit," Josh says, and a pained expression flashes across his face for a moment. "It didn't work out, Tyler. It just didn't."
"But why this?" Tyler asks.
Josh shrugs. "I'm good at it," he says simply.
"It's dangerous."
"I'm still alive, aren't I?"
Tyler sighs. "Josh..."
"Look, Tyler," Josh says, "I've chosen this life already. This is it, all right? I'm done." He stares at Tyler, seeming to be waiting for something.
"Josh," Tyler says before realizing he doesn't have anything to say.
"Goodnight, Tyler," Josh says softly, before turning and starting to limp away.