[fic] brothers be; the vampire diaries, matt/tyler; pg13
title; rating: brothers be; pg13
fandom, pairing; word count: the vampire dairies, (prelude to) matt/tyler; 588
notes: for tvd_rareships weekend comment fic party (and for gigglemonster; while it is a one-shot, this is definitely a prelude of things to come!
This is before.
This is before wolves and fangs and magic. This is before Vicki, even. This is just the two of them, like it has always been and always will be. Or so they think. Tyler's face is bloodied and bruised and they were supposed to have a sleepover. They're thirteen, going on fourteen, and Matt has never seen him like this before -- blood crusted at the corner of one lip, cheekbone sliced in a short straight line, his nose still red around the edges where it was bleeding.
Matt answers the door and Tyler just stands there like that, not even an overnight bag slung over his shoulder, his t-shirt ripped at the collar, head down, hands shoved into his pockets.
Matt's jaw sets. They've never talked about it. This is before they have the words for such things. But Matt knows. He's always known. Some things are just understood. Yet still, the sight of his best friend like this fills him with a kind of rage he's never really experienced before. Tyler though, is oddly calm. Matt watches him clean himself up through the crack in the bathroom door. He doesn't seem angry and he doesn't cry. And the question "Ty, what happened?" is caught in Matt's throat, because he's sure as soon as the sound fills the room that Tyler's just going to lose it right there in the bathroom.
Matt lends Tyler one of his shirts and they play video games and eat nachos. Vicki shows up with a couple of her older friends for a little while, but then she says there's nothing to eat and that they're all going to Missy's for the night. Matt complains for a long time about his mom never being around and Tyler changes the subject, telling Matt that he found his Uncle Mason's old porn stash, tells him he'll bring it next time. Matt blushes, his ears turning red.
"Oh, come on," Tyler teases him. "Don't act like you're not curious."
Later, they watch a movie rental in Matt's room, propped up on pillows next to each other. Matt doesn't remember what movie it is or what it was about because the whole time all he can do is stare at the tiny blood stain at the cuff of Tyler's jeans. He can hear Tyler laughing next to him at something in the movie, and the two things seem about as incongruous as two things can get. He doesn't understand how Tyler can laugh. He doesn't even understand how Tyler can do anything: eat, breathe, give Vicki that not-so-subtle up-and-down look every time she comes into a room, watch movies, joke with his best friend, think about porn. Anything.
Matt gives Tyler the bed that night, and he's almost asleep when he can hear soft muffled, crying sound, Tyler's voice cracking into a sob.
"Tyler?" Matt sits up from his spot on the floor. "Ty, buddy."
After no response, Matt scrambles to his knees and crawls next to Tyler in the bed.
"That son of a bitch," Tyler mutters through a sob.
"I know," Matt puts a hand on Tyler's shoulder, Tyler's back to him, and pulls him close. "God, Ty, I know."
Matt closes his eyes tight, squeezes Tyler's bicep and presses his forehead against the back of Tyler's neck. Slowly, his best friend quiets, his shaking subsiding, his breathing slowing.
They are brothers, the pair of them. And Matt vows then that it is brothers they will always be.
Always.
-fin
fandom, pairing; word count: the vampire dairies, (prelude to) matt/tyler; 588
notes: for tvd_rareships weekend comment fic party (and for gigglemonster; while it is a one-shot, this is definitely a prelude of things to come!
This is before.
This is before wolves and fangs and magic. This is before Vicki, even. This is just the two of them, like it has always been and always will be. Or so they think. Tyler's face is bloodied and bruised and they were supposed to have a sleepover. They're thirteen, going on fourteen, and Matt has never seen him like this before -- blood crusted at the corner of one lip, cheekbone sliced in a short straight line, his nose still red around the edges where it was bleeding.
Matt answers the door and Tyler just stands there like that, not even an overnight bag slung over his shoulder, his t-shirt ripped at the collar, head down, hands shoved into his pockets.
Matt's jaw sets. They've never talked about it. This is before they have the words for such things. But Matt knows. He's always known. Some things are just understood. Yet still, the sight of his best friend like this fills him with a kind of rage he's never really experienced before. Tyler though, is oddly calm. Matt watches him clean himself up through the crack in the bathroom door. He doesn't seem angry and he doesn't cry. And the question "Ty, what happened?" is caught in Matt's throat, because he's sure as soon as the sound fills the room that Tyler's just going to lose it right there in the bathroom.
Matt lends Tyler one of his shirts and they play video games and eat nachos. Vicki shows up with a couple of her older friends for a little while, but then she says there's nothing to eat and that they're all going to Missy's for the night. Matt complains for a long time about his mom never being around and Tyler changes the subject, telling Matt that he found his Uncle Mason's old porn stash, tells him he'll bring it next time. Matt blushes, his ears turning red.
"Oh, come on," Tyler teases him. "Don't act like you're not curious."
Later, they watch a movie rental in Matt's room, propped up on pillows next to each other. Matt doesn't remember what movie it is or what it was about because the whole time all he can do is stare at the tiny blood stain at the cuff of Tyler's jeans. He can hear Tyler laughing next to him at something in the movie, and the two things seem about as incongruous as two things can get. He doesn't understand how Tyler can laugh. He doesn't even understand how Tyler can do anything: eat, breathe, give Vicki that not-so-subtle up-and-down look every time she comes into a room, watch movies, joke with his best friend, think about porn. Anything.
Matt gives Tyler the bed that night, and he's almost asleep when he can hear soft muffled, crying sound, Tyler's voice cracking into a sob.
"Tyler?" Matt sits up from his spot on the floor. "Ty, buddy."
After no response, Matt scrambles to his knees and crawls next to Tyler in the bed.
"That son of a bitch," Tyler mutters through a sob.
"I know," Matt puts a hand on Tyler's shoulder, Tyler's back to him, and pulls him close. "God, Ty, I know."
Matt closes his eyes tight, squeezes Tyler's bicep and presses his forehead against the back of Tyler's neck. Slowly, his best friend quiets, his shaking subsiding, his breathing slowing.
They are brothers, the pair of them. And Matt vows then that it is brothers they will always be.
Always.
-fin