Call Me Maybe
Title: Call Me Maybe
Author: burntotears
Pairing: Dylan O'Brien/Tyler Hoechlin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4542
Disclaimer: Dylan O'Brien and Tyler Hoechlin belong to themselves. I do not claim to know them. This is a work of fiction and not meant to offend.
A/N: For the Tumblr Prompt from bilesandthesourwolf: Anyone wanna write me Hobrien fic in which Hoechlin watches the video of Dylan dancing to “Call Me Maybe” and realizes how much he actually misses Dylan?!
Translation: Call Me Maybe has been translated into Russian by the wonderful and amazing Amorph. Read the Russian version on Amorph's site here!
----
Hoechlin said: Call me maybe?
It wasn’t like it had been ages since Hoechlin had seen Dylan and he talked to him a lot - if texting was really to be counted - but when he saw the video pop up on his twitter feed of Dylan dancing like an idiot to Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe” on the set of The Internship, he couldn’t help but feel a strange pang in his stomach for missing him. It was really stupid, he knew it was, but it was still there and he couldn’t get rid of it for all he tried to. And honestly he’d been trying not to bother Dylan while he was filming because he didn’t want to act like an annoying weirdo who couldn’t spend a few weeks without talking to his friend, but that video had only just nailed down the fact that Hoechlin hadn’t seen Dylan in a while and it was weird because they usually spent so much time together. They used to live together, for fucks sake.
So yes, he did end up texting him, knowing full well that he might still be on set, but there was nothing to be done about it once he’d already hit Send on his phone. It took Dylan all of two seconds to reply to his text, too, which only reaffirmed to Hoechlin that he was probably being a pain in the ass and Dylan was telling him to fuck off and leave him alone.
Dylan said: Har har. I know u r not dissin my bodacious dance moves
That was until he received the third text in a row, and then he realized that Dylan was definitely not busy at all and probably wasn’t thinking twice about Hoechlin texting him.
Dylan said: Becuz I was professionally trained u know
Dylan said: Miyagi, my dance training master, will hunt u down and murder u for dissin these masterfully crafted steps
Hoechlin was laughing his ass off at this point, but he was attempting to not show it by texting back in a nonchalant manner.
Hoechlin said: Dude, aren’t you supposed to be working or something?
Dylan said: As demonstrated with said fantastic dancing, we have been rained out. So we r doing a whole helluva lot of nothing right now
Hoechlin said: That sucks.
Dylan said: Maybe but at least I have someone to entertain me now
Hoechlin grinned, assuming that Dylan had meant him. If he hadn’t, well, at least Dylan wasn’t there to see him misinterpret it so it’s not like it mattered. Even in text messages he was amused by Dylan so it was no small wonder why he was missing his usual time with his friend, which was most definitely all that it was. He wasn’t rewatching the video just to see Dylan’s face and the way he stuck his tongue out at 0:03 - who the hell would be crazy enough to do that?
Hoechlin almost fumbled his phone to the floor when it began ringing in his hands because he had been rewatching the video again and Dylan’s face was flashing on the screen in another way because he was calling him. Fuck.
“Hello?” he asked tentatively.
“What are you doing?” Dylan asked, sounding like he had caught Hoechlin in the act. Shit, did he know or something?
“Uh, nothing really. Why?”
“You’re not texting me back. I’m bored. Are you reading fanfic again or something?” There was a definite smirk in his voice, the bastard.
“Dylan, I do not read fanfiction,” Hoechlin answered in a disapproving tone. Talking about that always made him uncomfortable because he knew exactly what happened in those stories, especially the ones written about him - and Dylan - with him - having sex. Fuck.
“Oh right - that’s me,” he laughed into the receiver like it was no big deal. God, how could he do that? “I am such a sex god in fanfic, it is not even funny, Tyler. This is why you should read it - it will make you feel mighty, mighty good about yourself.”
“No, I’m fairly certain it would not,” Tyler replied, not liking where this conversation was going at all. He fidgeted in his chair, wondering what exactly he had done in these stories and how completely inaccurate they were. For one thing, he did not have sex with Dylan. And he did not want to. Definitely did not. Seriously.
Dylan laughed again and why did he keep doing that? “Seriously, Tyler, it’s just a bunch of made up bullshit. It’s not like it’s a script you’ve got to act out.”
“Yeah, until Jeff decides he’s going to make Sterek canon so all the fangirls will wet their panties and then what?” Hoechlin was mumbling to himself and it wasn’t until Dylan was responding that he realised that he had actually said it out loud. Holy shit.
“Heck, I’m offended. You don’t want to make out with me?”
“What?” Holy fuck, was this conversation seriously happening? He would really like to fall through the floor right now. The only redeeming thing about this was that Dylan was miles away and couldn’t see his reaction.
Or so he thought. “Oh man, I can totally see your face right now. You are just gaping like a fish,” Dylan laughed. Did he really know him that well by now?
“Dylan, fuck off,” Hoechlin replied, because really he was out of options now. Dylan had trapped him into a more uncomfortable corner than with the fanfiction discussion and what else was he going to do with himself?
“Tyler, it’s okay. I know you only say that with all the love you can muster. Because you love me. I love you too, man.”
“This is the worst conversation I’ve ever had,” Hoechlin breathed quietly, feeling utterly mortified. He was fairly certain that Dylan was trying to kill him. He was also certain that Dylan had no fucking clue he was doing it.
“That’s kind of ironic because it’s one of the best that I’ve ever had,” Dylan said with a smirk in his voice. Hoechlin heard someone talking to Dylan on the other end of the line and Dylan said, “Yeah, okay,” away from the phone and then returned to the receiver. “Hey man, I gotta go. I’ll text you when I get out, okay?”
“You don’t have to...” Hoechlin replied automatically and he wasn’t certain if it sounded rude or not.
“It’s cool. Have a good day, Tyler.”
“Yeah, you too, Dylan. Have fun.” He hung up the phone and then started hitting himself on the head with it, which promptly continued playing the “Call Me Maybe” Dylan dance video now that the phone call had ended. He groaned and mashed the Done button with an exasperated sigh. His life, seriously.
------
Hoechlin was settling in front of the TV for the night, feeling his eyes drooping when his phone beeped Dylan’s text tone. He snatched it off the side table to check the message, smiling.
Dylan said: Fuuuuuuuuuuuck I am so tired I think I might die
Hoechlin said: And loving every minute of it?
Dylan said: It is so awesome dude!
Hoechlin said: I’m happy for you, man.
Dylan said: I kinda wish u guys were here tho
He felt that weird constriction in his chest again, the same he’d felt earlier when he watched the video of Dylan dancing, but he didn’t want to analyze it too much.
Hoechlin said: What? No you don’t, you’re filming with fucking Vince Vaughn and Will Ferrell for Christ’s sake!
Dylan said: I know but it’s not the same
Hoechlin said: How?
Dylan said: It’s hard to explain
Hoechlin knew. Well, he knew what he thought about it, but maybe Dylan felt the same. And maybe he would absolutely regret this, but he was going to ask. He had to ask. Not just because he was curious, but because he was Dylan’s friend and he didn’t want to leave him alone in this weird position, whatever it might be.
Hoechlin said: Do you want to talk about it?
For a long time Dylan didn’t answer him and Hoechlin thought that maybe he’d crossed some sort of weird, unknown line or that Dylan did not, in fact, want to talk about it at all. Or maybe it was nothing and he’d misinterpreted the text message’s meaning, like he was rightly known to do.
His phone rang and it was Dylan and Hoechlin’s heart skipped for a second. He took a deep breath and pressed his thumb against the green slider on his phone. “Hey,” he said into the receiver.
“Hey,” Dylan parroted, taking a deep breath and then saying nothing else.
“You okay?” Hoechlin asked after a few silent moments, feeling a little worried. Had he opened some sort of wound by asking Dylan to talk about it? “Dyl, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I was just offering.”
“I know, man. I’m just - I don’t know. I’m being really weird, I know,” he sighed and Hoechlin heard him shifting around like he was trying to make himself comfortable. He must have been in his hotel room already.
“It’s okay,” Hoechlin replied easily and it was. He was fine with allowing Dylan to frustratingly attempt to vent whatever weird feelings he was attempting to get across. He would give him all damned night if he had to. Not that Dylan had all night for it or anything. Hoechlin knew he didn’t.
“I feel like... okay, so you know in Mass Effect 2 when Shepard goes along with Cerberus because he feels like that’s what’s going to get him the best deal for the galaxy, but he doesn’t really agree with all the shit they’ve done? But he needs their help, right? And the Illusive Man is a son-of-a-bitch and Shepard knows it, but he’s got the resources that Shepard needs to save the galaxy from the Reapers and so Shepard fucking plows through it even though all his best friends are telling him that he’s a traitor for working with them and Ashley keeps giving him that fucking look like he’s such a goddamned bastard for doing it and they have that ridiculous fight and Shepard is like, ‘Goddammit, this war is bullshit and all my friends hate me, but I need to do this shit if I want to save their lives, right?’ and he’s just eating himself up on the inside but he keeps on treking like a mother-fucking trooper and in the end he saves every fucking one of them - well, if you did their loyalty missions and stuff, but still...”
“Uhhh...” Hoechlin said dumbly, trying to figure out where the hell Dylan was trying to go with all of this. He had said he missed the rest of the cast, so what did that have to do with saving the galaxy, exactly? Hoechlin wasn’t an idiot by any means, but sometimes Dylan’s analogies took a bit of time to connect to the current situation, especially when he jumped fairly far into left field with them, so by the time Hoechlin finally thought he had figured out what Dylan might have meant by all of that, his friend was talking again.
“Yeah, it’s stupid, I know. Just-just forget I said anything,” Dylan said hurriedly, like Hoechlin had obviously caught on right away and thought the younger man was a complete idiot for saying any of it.
Hoechlin sighed exasperatedly and shook his head before realizing that Dylan couldn’t see him. “No, I just - it took me a minute. Dylan, you don’t really think that we are mad about you furthering your career, do you?”
Dylan was silent for a few moments before replying, “I dunno...maybe. I mean, I’m not even supposed to be the star of the show, so it’s not like I should be getting anywhere because of it. I did fucking YouTube videos, Tyler, seriously. How am I working with Vince Vaughn?”
Hoechlin rolled his eyes. “Because you are a fantastic actor and you are good at what you do. Because you earned the role, because you do an amazing job as Stiles and the fans can see that - because Jeff can see that - and Posey might have been the main star in the beginning, but everyone knows that you stole the spotlight from him from the very first episode.”
“I did not,” Dylan tried to shrug the comment off, because he was always shrugging off their compliments about his talent. It was something that made Hoechlin want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him violently until it stuck in his thick skull.
“Dylan, you wouldn’t have gotten any of the parts you have if you didn’t deserve them. And we would not say what we do if we didn’t believe it. We support you because you are amazing, and you deserve all of the success you are getting. Don’t for a second think that we would be upset about it.”
Dylan didn’t say anything in reply to that for a while, but Hoechlin could hear him breathing through the phone receiver. He wanted to speak up and say something else reassuring, but he wasn’t certain that it would be a good idea for him to word vomit anything else - Lord only knew what might come out if he did. “Yeah?” was what Dylan finally said after a minute or two of silence and for some reason it made Hoechlin’s heart wrench.
“Of course,” he replied without any need to think about it, because it was the truth. He didn’t have to consult the rest of their cast mates on that either, because they believed in Dylan just like he did. Well, maybe not in the exact same way as Hoechlin, but they still believed in Dylan and supported him as a fellow cast mate and friend.
“Thanks, Tyler,” Dylan said and for some reason it sounded like he was a little breathless.
Hoechlin’s throat was dry and his voice caught when he replied, “You d-don’t have to thank me. It’s the truth, man.” He swallowed hard and he really, really hoped it was not as loud as it had sounded.
Dylan asked, “Hey, Tyler?” and he was talking low and weird and it made Hoechlin feel uncomfortable so he shifted on the couch.
“What?” he said in reply, and his voice could not have been anymore breathy and guttural than if he had been playing Derek just then. Holy fucking shit, what was he doing?
Hoechlin heard Dylan intake a breath sharply after his reply and this really had to be more awkward than any Stiles and Derek scene they had ever done or were ever going to do - even if Sterek was going to become a thing. Hoechlin was certain of it. “I, uh - I need to go,” Dylan breathed out in rushed words and then the line went dead.
“What the holy hell?” Hoechlin said, feeling like his world was spinning in circles and he was just fucking things up at every turn. He let his head fall to the back of the couch and groaned aloud.
------
Hoechlin didn’t hear from Dylan for a couple of days after that and he was too afraid to say anything to him for fear that he might have severely pissed him off. He knew that he was probably being stupid and that Dylan wasn’t the type of guy to hold grudges like that, but he really had no idea what had happened the other night and he was still reeling over the way Dylan’s voice had sounded and the way his breath had come out like he was - honestly, Hoechlin did not know what and he didn’t want to let his mind come up with any theories either. The less he thought about it, the better.
Holland and Colton were over at his place when he received a text from Dylan again. At this time he had to be done with shooting for the day - or at least Hoechlin would think so, unless he had night shoots to do, which was always possible.
Dylan said: Hey
“Hey, is that Dylan?” Holland perked up at the sound of the text tone going off on Hoechlin’s phone. It wasn’t like they didn’t know what tone he had set for Dylan, seeing as they spent enough time on set with each other to hear it often enough. But it was still a little annoying that they knew who was texting him and he didn’t have a little semblance of privacy.
Colton looked up from their game of Urban Dictionary Scrabble with interest. “What’s he saying?” he asked, aligning his word ‘ship’ up against Holland’s ‘slash’ and looking mighty proud of himself for finally knowing the alternate context meaning of the word. Holland rolled her eyes at him and turned her attention back to Hoechlin expectantly.
“He’s just saying ‘hi.’ I guess he’s done for the day,” Hoechlin replied, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice at his friends’ intrusion into his private conversation. He knew that they had no idea about what had occurred or they wouldn’t be bothering him, so he couldn’t get angry at them for asking. By the time he looked down at his phone to even attempt to answer Dylan, he had another message.
Dylan said: I’m sorry I hung up on u
Hoechlin said: It’s okay.
Dylan said: I was sorta weirded out
Hoechlin said: Okay? By what?
“So, what does Dylan have to say?” Holland asked and she bounded over to the couch where Hoechlin was, who immediately clutched his phone to his chest so she wasn’t able to see the small screen. “What? What is it?” she asked and then realization seemed to flood over her features and she nodded. “Ohhh. Right, sorry,” she gave him a wink and a knowing look and skedaddled back over to the table to a confused looking Colton.
Hoechlin raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you mean, ‘Ohhh?’ What is with that look?”
“Nothing! Just keeping out of your business, is all!”
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Colton asked, turning his head back and forth between the two of them with his bewildered ‘why am I always the last to know’ look.
“I’m not talking about anything,” Hoechlin said. “Holland is just insane.” He would like to say that he didn’t jump when his phone went off, but he definitely did. He hadn’t realized that he’d forgotten to check it during their weird exchange so it had apparently turned off and Dylan was texting him again. He had three messages when he slid his phone back on.
Dylan said: It’s stupid
Dylan said: Are u busy
Dylan said: Tyler?
Tyler jumped off the couch and mumbled some excuse that he wasn’t even sure were real words, but Holland just nodded enthusiastically at him and smirked as he left. He heard Colton asking, “How is ‘slash’ an urban term?” as he shut the door to his bedroom.
He pulled up his favorites and clicked on Dylan’s name as quickly as possible. For a moment he was afraid Dylan wouldn’t answer but eventually he heard the connection come on and Dylan’s tentative voice on the other line say, “Hey, are you busy?”
“No, sorry. Holland and Colton are here. I was talking to them for a second and didn’t realize you had texted me again.” He sat down on his bed and felt unnaturally nervous. He ran his free hand over the thigh of his jeans.
“Oh,” Dylan replied, drawing the word out longer than was really necessary. “I can, uh - I can let you go, man.” He sounded disappointed and Hoechlin’s heart constricted tightly in his chest.
“No, it’s fine. What’s up?” he asked and cringed at the way his voice raised a little on the word ‘up.’
“Um,” Dylan said, and he sounded like he was chewing the word more than saying it. Jesus, why was Dylan the only one Hoechlin knew who could do weird things like that? And more-so, it wasn’t like ‘um’ was even a word. “It’s just...I thought you may have sounded a little - weird on the phone the other night.”
This wasn’t happening. How could this be happening? This wasn’t happening, right? Fuck! “Uh, you sounded a little weird too, Dylan,” he said without any thought what-so-ever. Seriously, he was just going to crawl into a hole now, if the world was blessed enough to let him. He let himself fall back onto the bed with an audible flump and he really did not care.
“Yeah, I know. I just - Tyler, do you...” Dylan began but he didn’t finish whatever he had wanted to ask.
Hoechlin breathed into the receiver. Dylan breathed into the receiver. They both just sat there, breathing into their respective phones like a couple of slasher flick villains.
Finally Hoechlin asked, “Do I what?” his voice was gravelly and unbelievably low - lower than it had a right to be asking that question.
“Do you...like...” Dylan started and Hoechlin thought that he wasn’t going to work up the courage to ask whatever it was he wanted to ask, but finally after about a thirty second pause he finished, “-guys?” in a voice that should be locked up and quarantined as completely illegal because it was too fucking ridiculous for anyone to be able to handle.
He knew what was happening here. Dylan had figured it out and he was calling him out on having some unnatural crush on Dylan and he was definitely not okay with it. This was definitely not the way Hoechlin had wanted this to go, with Dylan being miles away and Hoechlin not able to see his reaction. “Why are you asking me that, Dylan?” he asked stupidly. He should have just told the truth, confessed the whole damned thing, but he couldn’t pull himself out of that protective little shell he’d built. It was too damn scary to even think about.
Dylan was instantly back-peddling, words tumbling out of his mouth in rampant succession. “I’m sorry, that was a douchey thing to ask, man. I just - I just - I’m sorry.”
Hoechlin sighed and it quickly turned into a groan. “You don’t have to apologize, I just wanted to know why you were asking. I’m not offended or anything.”
“Oh. Okay, I thought - okay.”
Silence fell between them again and Hoechlin was not at all used to Dylan being this quiet. “So?”
“What?” Dylan asked, and he sounded startled.
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Oh. I-” Dylan let out a groan of his own and it sounded like he was rubbing his face with his hand. “Are you seriously going to make me say it, man?”
“You’re the one that brought this up...” Hoechlin ventured, though he had a fairly good idea and he just didn’t want to have to say it himself.
“I dunno. I mean, I just thought maybe - this is going to sound stupid, okay, so please don’t get pissed at me if I am completely off base, alright?” Dylan sighed heavily into the phone and Hoechlin groaned internally. He wished he’d stop doing that. “I thought maybe you might...like...me.”
Yeah, so Dylan had definitely figured it out. So much for Hoechlin being covert about everything. This was completely embarrassing. What was he supposed to do? What he really wanted to do was crawl underneath his covers and hide from the world, but that didn’t really change reality, and lying to Dylan about this wasn’t going to change that Dylan knew and he’d still know even if Hoechlin lied and said it was not true at all. So he answered in his smallest voice possible, “I - do.”
Dylan let out a breath, like he’d been holding it for some reason. “You mean - more than just-”
“More than just,” Hoechlin repeated his words, knowing it would get the point across just fine.
“Holy shit,” Dylan said, and that didn’t sound good at all. It sounded like a ‘I don’t know what to do with this - how am I going to act around you?’ - holy shit, and Hoechlin’s stomach was clenching and he really wanted to throw up. “God, I feel so stupid.”
“What? Dylan, you don’t - look, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have - I didn’t mean to - I’m sorry. I’m not going to - Jesus Christ!” he practically whined, not able to grasp at the right words he wanted to say.
“No-no that’s not - shut up, Tyler,” Dylan said and Hoechlin was taken aback by the force of his words. “Sorry, I just - I’m trying to say what I want to say and keep you from saying something stupid.”
“Uh...okay,” Hoechlin replied, unsure what that even meant.
“Look, I wanted to say something to you but you’re always so damn closed-in about shit and I was afraid that I’d freak you out. So I just - I didn’t. But you were always there and I didn’t know if that actually meant something or if you were just being friendly and it was kind of frustrating and sometimes I really just wanted to slap you but I kept it pulled back and I didn’t do anything. But then the other night when you said all that supportive shit again and I wondered maybe you were being more than supportive and then you sounded so weird and I just - I wanted to say it, I really wanted to say that I am kind of into you but I knew you’d probably freak the fuck out on me so I just sort of hung up on you instead. Which probably freaked you out anyway and I’m sorry, but shit, Tyler, you are so damned weird sometimes when it comes to like, talking about shit so I don’t ever want to push you into that situation-”
“Did you just say you’re into me?” Hoechlin said, surprise in his voice as he completely overrode Dylan’s words, having lost the rest of what Dylan was saying after he’d heard those two words.
He heard Dylan’s hand hit his face. “Seriously, dude, did you not listen to half of what I just said?”
“Not really,” Hoechlin admitted, a small smile creeping at the corner of his lips.
“Yes, I said I am ‘into you.’ God, you are such a douche,” Dylan replied exasperatedly.
“Shut up, fucker,” Hoechlin said but there wasn’t any real malice behind it considering he was grinning like a loon.
“I really do miss you. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wish you guys were here. And by ‘you guys’ I pretty much meant you,” Dylan said more quietly.
“Yeah. I miss you too, Dylan,” Hoechlin replied, still suspended in disbelief about what had happened here. “I’ll uh - we’ll see each other soon though?”
“Yeah, man. Definitely,” Dylan said and he was shifting around again. “Hey uh - I gotta go. Early call.”
“Oh, alright,” Hoechlin replied, trying not to sound too disappointed about it. “Well, call me?”
“Maybe,” Dylan laughed into the phone and Hoechlin shook his head against the bed, joining in with Dylan’s laughter easily.
-fin-
Author: burntotears
Pairing: Dylan O'Brien/Tyler Hoechlin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4542
Disclaimer: Dylan O'Brien and Tyler Hoechlin belong to themselves. I do not claim to know them. This is a work of fiction and not meant to offend.
A/N: For the Tumblr Prompt from bilesandthesourwolf: Anyone wanna write me Hobrien fic in which Hoechlin watches the video of Dylan dancing to “Call Me Maybe” and realizes how much he actually misses Dylan?!
Translation: Call Me Maybe has been translated into Russian by the wonderful and amazing Amorph. Read the Russian version on Amorph's site here!
----
Hoechlin said: Call me maybe?
It wasn’t like it had been ages since Hoechlin had seen Dylan and he talked to him a lot - if texting was really to be counted - but when he saw the video pop up on his twitter feed of Dylan dancing like an idiot to Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe” on the set of The Internship, he couldn’t help but feel a strange pang in his stomach for missing him. It was really stupid, he knew it was, but it was still there and he couldn’t get rid of it for all he tried to. And honestly he’d been trying not to bother Dylan while he was filming because he didn’t want to act like an annoying weirdo who couldn’t spend a few weeks without talking to his friend, but that video had only just nailed down the fact that Hoechlin hadn’t seen Dylan in a while and it was weird because they usually spent so much time together. They used to live together, for fucks sake.
So yes, he did end up texting him, knowing full well that he might still be on set, but there was nothing to be done about it once he’d already hit Send on his phone. It took Dylan all of two seconds to reply to his text, too, which only reaffirmed to Hoechlin that he was probably being a pain in the ass and Dylan was telling him to fuck off and leave him alone.
Dylan said: Har har. I know u r not dissin my bodacious dance moves
That was until he received the third text in a row, and then he realized that Dylan was definitely not busy at all and probably wasn’t thinking twice about Hoechlin texting him.
Dylan said: Becuz I was professionally trained u know
Dylan said: Miyagi, my dance training master, will hunt u down and murder u for dissin these masterfully crafted steps
Hoechlin was laughing his ass off at this point, but he was attempting to not show it by texting back in a nonchalant manner.
Hoechlin said: Dude, aren’t you supposed to be working or something?
Dylan said: As demonstrated with said fantastic dancing, we have been rained out. So we r doing a whole helluva lot of nothing right now
Hoechlin said: That sucks.
Dylan said: Maybe but at least I have someone to entertain me now
Hoechlin grinned, assuming that Dylan had meant him. If he hadn’t, well, at least Dylan wasn’t there to see him misinterpret it so it’s not like it mattered. Even in text messages he was amused by Dylan so it was no small wonder why he was missing his usual time with his friend, which was most definitely all that it was. He wasn’t rewatching the video just to see Dylan’s face and the way he stuck his tongue out at 0:03 - who the hell would be crazy enough to do that?
Hoechlin almost fumbled his phone to the floor when it began ringing in his hands because he had been rewatching the video again and Dylan’s face was flashing on the screen in another way because he was calling him. Fuck.
“Hello?” he asked tentatively.
“What are you doing?” Dylan asked, sounding like he had caught Hoechlin in the act. Shit, did he know or something?
“Uh, nothing really. Why?”
“You’re not texting me back. I’m bored. Are you reading fanfic again or something?” There was a definite smirk in his voice, the bastard.
“Dylan, I do not read fanfiction,” Hoechlin answered in a disapproving tone. Talking about that always made him uncomfortable because he knew exactly what happened in those stories, especially the ones written about him - and Dylan - with him - having sex. Fuck.
“Oh right - that’s me,” he laughed into the receiver like it was no big deal. God, how could he do that? “I am such a sex god in fanfic, it is not even funny, Tyler. This is why you should read it - it will make you feel mighty, mighty good about yourself.”
“No, I’m fairly certain it would not,” Tyler replied, not liking where this conversation was going at all. He fidgeted in his chair, wondering what exactly he had done in these stories and how completely inaccurate they were. For one thing, he did not have sex with Dylan. And he did not want to. Definitely did not. Seriously.
Dylan laughed again and why did he keep doing that? “Seriously, Tyler, it’s just a bunch of made up bullshit. It’s not like it’s a script you’ve got to act out.”
“Yeah, until Jeff decides he’s going to make Sterek canon so all the fangirls will wet their panties and then what?” Hoechlin was mumbling to himself and it wasn’t until Dylan was responding that he realised that he had actually said it out loud. Holy shit.
“Heck, I’m offended. You don’t want to make out with me?”
“What?” Holy fuck, was this conversation seriously happening? He would really like to fall through the floor right now. The only redeeming thing about this was that Dylan was miles away and couldn’t see his reaction.
Or so he thought. “Oh man, I can totally see your face right now. You are just gaping like a fish,” Dylan laughed. Did he really know him that well by now?
“Dylan, fuck off,” Hoechlin replied, because really he was out of options now. Dylan had trapped him into a more uncomfortable corner than with the fanfiction discussion and what else was he going to do with himself?
“Tyler, it’s okay. I know you only say that with all the love you can muster. Because you love me. I love you too, man.”
“This is the worst conversation I’ve ever had,” Hoechlin breathed quietly, feeling utterly mortified. He was fairly certain that Dylan was trying to kill him. He was also certain that Dylan had no fucking clue he was doing it.
“That’s kind of ironic because it’s one of the best that I’ve ever had,” Dylan said with a smirk in his voice. Hoechlin heard someone talking to Dylan on the other end of the line and Dylan said, “Yeah, okay,” away from the phone and then returned to the receiver. “Hey man, I gotta go. I’ll text you when I get out, okay?”
“You don’t have to...” Hoechlin replied automatically and he wasn’t certain if it sounded rude or not.
“It’s cool. Have a good day, Tyler.”
“Yeah, you too, Dylan. Have fun.” He hung up the phone and then started hitting himself on the head with it, which promptly continued playing the “Call Me Maybe” Dylan dance video now that the phone call had ended. He groaned and mashed the Done button with an exasperated sigh. His life, seriously.
------
Hoechlin was settling in front of the TV for the night, feeling his eyes drooping when his phone beeped Dylan’s text tone. He snatched it off the side table to check the message, smiling.
Dylan said: Fuuuuuuuuuuuck I am so tired I think I might die
Hoechlin said: And loving every minute of it?
Dylan said: It is so awesome dude!
Hoechlin said: I’m happy for you, man.
Dylan said: I kinda wish u guys were here tho
He felt that weird constriction in his chest again, the same he’d felt earlier when he watched the video of Dylan dancing, but he didn’t want to analyze it too much.
Hoechlin said: What? No you don’t, you’re filming with fucking Vince Vaughn and Will Ferrell for Christ’s sake!
Dylan said: I know but it’s not the same
Hoechlin said: How?
Dylan said: It’s hard to explain
Hoechlin knew. Well, he knew what he thought about it, but maybe Dylan felt the same. And maybe he would absolutely regret this, but he was going to ask. He had to ask. Not just because he was curious, but because he was Dylan’s friend and he didn’t want to leave him alone in this weird position, whatever it might be.
Hoechlin said: Do you want to talk about it?
For a long time Dylan didn’t answer him and Hoechlin thought that maybe he’d crossed some sort of weird, unknown line or that Dylan did not, in fact, want to talk about it at all. Or maybe it was nothing and he’d misinterpreted the text message’s meaning, like he was rightly known to do.
His phone rang and it was Dylan and Hoechlin’s heart skipped for a second. He took a deep breath and pressed his thumb against the green slider on his phone. “Hey,” he said into the receiver.
“Hey,” Dylan parroted, taking a deep breath and then saying nothing else.
“You okay?” Hoechlin asked after a few silent moments, feeling a little worried. Had he opened some sort of wound by asking Dylan to talk about it? “Dyl, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I was just offering.”
“I know, man. I’m just - I don’t know. I’m being really weird, I know,” he sighed and Hoechlin heard him shifting around like he was trying to make himself comfortable. He must have been in his hotel room already.
“It’s okay,” Hoechlin replied easily and it was. He was fine with allowing Dylan to frustratingly attempt to vent whatever weird feelings he was attempting to get across. He would give him all damned night if he had to. Not that Dylan had all night for it or anything. Hoechlin knew he didn’t.
“I feel like... okay, so you know in Mass Effect 2 when Shepard goes along with Cerberus because he feels like that’s what’s going to get him the best deal for the galaxy, but he doesn’t really agree with all the shit they’ve done? But he needs their help, right? And the Illusive Man is a son-of-a-bitch and Shepard knows it, but he’s got the resources that Shepard needs to save the galaxy from the Reapers and so Shepard fucking plows through it even though all his best friends are telling him that he’s a traitor for working with them and Ashley keeps giving him that fucking look like he’s such a goddamned bastard for doing it and they have that ridiculous fight and Shepard is like, ‘Goddammit, this war is bullshit and all my friends hate me, but I need to do this shit if I want to save their lives, right?’ and he’s just eating himself up on the inside but he keeps on treking like a mother-fucking trooper and in the end he saves every fucking one of them - well, if you did their loyalty missions and stuff, but still...”
“Uhhh...” Hoechlin said dumbly, trying to figure out where the hell Dylan was trying to go with all of this. He had said he missed the rest of the cast, so what did that have to do with saving the galaxy, exactly? Hoechlin wasn’t an idiot by any means, but sometimes Dylan’s analogies took a bit of time to connect to the current situation, especially when he jumped fairly far into left field with them, so by the time Hoechlin finally thought he had figured out what Dylan might have meant by all of that, his friend was talking again.
“Yeah, it’s stupid, I know. Just-just forget I said anything,” Dylan said hurriedly, like Hoechlin had obviously caught on right away and thought the younger man was a complete idiot for saying any of it.
Hoechlin sighed exasperatedly and shook his head before realizing that Dylan couldn’t see him. “No, I just - it took me a minute. Dylan, you don’t really think that we are mad about you furthering your career, do you?”
Dylan was silent for a few moments before replying, “I dunno...maybe. I mean, I’m not even supposed to be the star of the show, so it’s not like I should be getting anywhere because of it. I did fucking YouTube videos, Tyler, seriously. How am I working with Vince Vaughn?”
Hoechlin rolled his eyes. “Because you are a fantastic actor and you are good at what you do. Because you earned the role, because you do an amazing job as Stiles and the fans can see that - because Jeff can see that - and Posey might have been the main star in the beginning, but everyone knows that you stole the spotlight from him from the very first episode.”
“I did not,” Dylan tried to shrug the comment off, because he was always shrugging off their compliments about his talent. It was something that made Hoechlin want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him violently until it stuck in his thick skull.
“Dylan, you wouldn’t have gotten any of the parts you have if you didn’t deserve them. And we would not say what we do if we didn’t believe it. We support you because you are amazing, and you deserve all of the success you are getting. Don’t for a second think that we would be upset about it.”
Dylan didn’t say anything in reply to that for a while, but Hoechlin could hear him breathing through the phone receiver. He wanted to speak up and say something else reassuring, but he wasn’t certain that it would be a good idea for him to word vomit anything else - Lord only knew what might come out if he did. “Yeah?” was what Dylan finally said after a minute or two of silence and for some reason it made Hoechlin’s heart wrench.
“Of course,” he replied without any need to think about it, because it was the truth. He didn’t have to consult the rest of their cast mates on that either, because they believed in Dylan just like he did. Well, maybe not in the exact same way as Hoechlin, but they still believed in Dylan and supported him as a fellow cast mate and friend.
“Thanks, Tyler,” Dylan said and for some reason it sounded like he was a little breathless.
Hoechlin’s throat was dry and his voice caught when he replied, “You d-don’t have to thank me. It’s the truth, man.” He swallowed hard and he really, really hoped it was not as loud as it had sounded.
Dylan asked, “Hey, Tyler?” and he was talking low and weird and it made Hoechlin feel uncomfortable so he shifted on the couch.
“What?” he said in reply, and his voice could not have been anymore breathy and guttural than if he had been playing Derek just then. Holy fucking shit, what was he doing?
Hoechlin heard Dylan intake a breath sharply after his reply and this really had to be more awkward than any Stiles and Derek scene they had ever done or were ever going to do - even if Sterek was going to become a thing. Hoechlin was certain of it. “I, uh - I need to go,” Dylan breathed out in rushed words and then the line went dead.
“What the holy hell?” Hoechlin said, feeling like his world was spinning in circles and he was just fucking things up at every turn. He let his head fall to the back of the couch and groaned aloud.
------
Hoechlin didn’t hear from Dylan for a couple of days after that and he was too afraid to say anything to him for fear that he might have severely pissed him off. He knew that he was probably being stupid and that Dylan wasn’t the type of guy to hold grudges like that, but he really had no idea what had happened the other night and he was still reeling over the way Dylan’s voice had sounded and the way his breath had come out like he was - honestly, Hoechlin did not know what and he didn’t want to let his mind come up with any theories either. The less he thought about it, the better.
Holland and Colton were over at his place when he received a text from Dylan again. At this time he had to be done with shooting for the day - or at least Hoechlin would think so, unless he had night shoots to do, which was always possible.
Dylan said: Hey
“Hey, is that Dylan?” Holland perked up at the sound of the text tone going off on Hoechlin’s phone. It wasn’t like they didn’t know what tone he had set for Dylan, seeing as they spent enough time on set with each other to hear it often enough. But it was still a little annoying that they knew who was texting him and he didn’t have a little semblance of privacy.
Colton looked up from their game of Urban Dictionary Scrabble with interest. “What’s he saying?” he asked, aligning his word ‘ship’ up against Holland’s ‘slash’ and looking mighty proud of himself for finally knowing the alternate context meaning of the word. Holland rolled her eyes at him and turned her attention back to Hoechlin expectantly.
“He’s just saying ‘hi.’ I guess he’s done for the day,” Hoechlin replied, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice at his friends’ intrusion into his private conversation. He knew that they had no idea about what had occurred or they wouldn’t be bothering him, so he couldn’t get angry at them for asking. By the time he looked down at his phone to even attempt to answer Dylan, he had another message.
Dylan said: I’m sorry I hung up on u
Hoechlin said: It’s okay.
Dylan said: I was sorta weirded out
Hoechlin said: Okay? By what?
“So, what does Dylan have to say?” Holland asked and she bounded over to the couch where Hoechlin was, who immediately clutched his phone to his chest so she wasn’t able to see the small screen. “What? What is it?” she asked and then realization seemed to flood over her features and she nodded. “Ohhh. Right, sorry,” she gave him a wink and a knowing look and skedaddled back over to the table to a confused looking Colton.
Hoechlin raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you mean, ‘Ohhh?’ What is with that look?”
“Nothing! Just keeping out of your business, is all!”
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Colton asked, turning his head back and forth between the two of them with his bewildered ‘why am I always the last to know’ look.
“I’m not talking about anything,” Hoechlin said. “Holland is just insane.” He would like to say that he didn’t jump when his phone went off, but he definitely did. He hadn’t realized that he’d forgotten to check it during their weird exchange so it had apparently turned off and Dylan was texting him again. He had three messages when he slid his phone back on.
Dylan said: It’s stupid
Dylan said: Are u busy
Dylan said: Tyler?
Tyler jumped off the couch and mumbled some excuse that he wasn’t even sure were real words, but Holland just nodded enthusiastically at him and smirked as he left. He heard Colton asking, “How is ‘slash’ an urban term?” as he shut the door to his bedroom.
He pulled up his favorites and clicked on Dylan’s name as quickly as possible. For a moment he was afraid Dylan wouldn’t answer but eventually he heard the connection come on and Dylan’s tentative voice on the other line say, “Hey, are you busy?”
“No, sorry. Holland and Colton are here. I was talking to them for a second and didn’t realize you had texted me again.” He sat down on his bed and felt unnaturally nervous. He ran his free hand over the thigh of his jeans.
“Oh,” Dylan replied, drawing the word out longer than was really necessary. “I can, uh - I can let you go, man.” He sounded disappointed and Hoechlin’s heart constricted tightly in his chest.
“No, it’s fine. What’s up?” he asked and cringed at the way his voice raised a little on the word ‘up.’
“Um,” Dylan said, and he sounded like he was chewing the word more than saying it. Jesus, why was Dylan the only one Hoechlin knew who could do weird things like that? And more-so, it wasn’t like ‘um’ was even a word. “It’s just...I thought you may have sounded a little - weird on the phone the other night.”
This wasn’t happening. How could this be happening? This wasn’t happening, right? Fuck! “Uh, you sounded a little weird too, Dylan,” he said without any thought what-so-ever. Seriously, he was just going to crawl into a hole now, if the world was blessed enough to let him. He let himself fall back onto the bed with an audible flump and he really did not care.
“Yeah, I know. I just - Tyler, do you...” Dylan began but he didn’t finish whatever he had wanted to ask.
Hoechlin breathed into the receiver. Dylan breathed into the receiver. They both just sat there, breathing into their respective phones like a couple of slasher flick villains.
Finally Hoechlin asked, “Do I what?” his voice was gravelly and unbelievably low - lower than it had a right to be asking that question.
“Do you...like...” Dylan started and Hoechlin thought that he wasn’t going to work up the courage to ask whatever it was he wanted to ask, but finally after about a thirty second pause he finished, “-guys?” in a voice that should be locked up and quarantined as completely illegal because it was too fucking ridiculous for anyone to be able to handle.
He knew what was happening here. Dylan had figured it out and he was calling him out on having some unnatural crush on Dylan and he was definitely not okay with it. This was definitely not the way Hoechlin had wanted this to go, with Dylan being miles away and Hoechlin not able to see his reaction. “Why are you asking me that, Dylan?” he asked stupidly. He should have just told the truth, confessed the whole damned thing, but he couldn’t pull himself out of that protective little shell he’d built. It was too damn scary to even think about.
Dylan was instantly back-peddling, words tumbling out of his mouth in rampant succession. “I’m sorry, that was a douchey thing to ask, man. I just - I just - I’m sorry.”
Hoechlin sighed and it quickly turned into a groan. “You don’t have to apologize, I just wanted to know why you were asking. I’m not offended or anything.”
“Oh. Okay, I thought - okay.”
Silence fell between them again and Hoechlin was not at all used to Dylan being this quiet. “So?”
“What?” Dylan asked, and he sounded startled.
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Oh. I-” Dylan let out a groan of his own and it sounded like he was rubbing his face with his hand. “Are you seriously going to make me say it, man?”
“You’re the one that brought this up...” Hoechlin ventured, though he had a fairly good idea and he just didn’t want to have to say it himself.
“I dunno. I mean, I just thought maybe - this is going to sound stupid, okay, so please don’t get pissed at me if I am completely off base, alright?” Dylan sighed heavily into the phone and Hoechlin groaned internally. He wished he’d stop doing that. “I thought maybe you might...like...me.”
Yeah, so Dylan had definitely figured it out. So much for Hoechlin being covert about everything. This was completely embarrassing. What was he supposed to do? What he really wanted to do was crawl underneath his covers and hide from the world, but that didn’t really change reality, and lying to Dylan about this wasn’t going to change that Dylan knew and he’d still know even if Hoechlin lied and said it was not true at all. So he answered in his smallest voice possible, “I - do.”
Dylan let out a breath, like he’d been holding it for some reason. “You mean - more than just-”
“More than just,” Hoechlin repeated his words, knowing it would get the point across just fine.
“Holy shit,” Dylan said, and that didn’t sound good at all. It sounded like a ‘I don’t know what to do with this - how am I going to act around you?’ - holy shit, and Hoechlin’s stomach was clenching and he really wanted to throw up. “God, I feel so stupid.”
“What? Dylan, you don’t - look, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have - I didn’t mean to - I’m sorry. I’m not going to - Jesus Christ!” he practically whined, not able to grasp at the right words he wanted to say.
“No-no that’s not - shut up, Tyler,” Dylan said and Hoechlin was taken aback by the force of his words. “Sorry, I just - I’m trying to say what I want to say and keep you from saying something stupid.”
“Uh...okay,” Hoechlin replied, unsure what that even meant.
“Look, I wanted to say something to you but you’re always so damn closed-in about shit and I was afraid that I’d freak you out. So I just - I didn’t. But you were always there and I didn’t know if that actually meant something or if you were just being friendly and it was kind of frustrating and sometimes I really just wanted to slap you but I kept it pulled back and I didn’t do anything. But then the other night when you said all that supportive shit again and I wondered maybe you were being more than supportive and then you sounded so weird and I just - I wanted to say it, I really wanted to say that I am kind of into you but I knew you’d probably freak the fuck out on me so I just sort of hung up on you instead. Which probably freaked you out anyway and I’m sorry, but shit, Tyler, you are so damned weird sometimes when it comes to like, talking about shit so I don’t ever want to push you into that situation-”
“Did you just say you’re into me?” Hoechlin said, surprise in his voice as he completely overrode Dylan’s words, having lost the rest of what Dylan was saying after he’d heard those two words.
He heard Dylan’s hand hit his face. “Seriously, dude, did you not listen to half of what I just said?”
“Not really,” Hoechlin admitted, a small smile creeping at the corner of his lips.
“Yes, I said I am ‘into you.’ God, you are such a douche,” Dylan replied exasperatedly.
“Shut up, fucker,” Hoechlin said but there wasn’t any real malice behind it considering he was grinning like a loon.
“I really do miss you. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wish you guys were here. And by ‘you guys’ I pretty much meant you,” Dylan said more quietly.
“Yeah. I miss you too, Dylan,” Hoechlin replied, still suspended in disbelief about what had happened here. “I’ll uh - we’ll see each other soon though?”
“Yeah, man. Definitely,” Dylan said and he was shifting around again. “Hey uh - I gotta go. Early call.”
“Oh, alright,” Hoechlin replied, trying not to sound too disappointed about it. “Well, call me?”
“Maybe,” Dylan laughed into the phone and Hoechlin shook his head against the bed, joining in with Dylan’s laughter easily.
-fin-