Fic: they never did, but we could
Author: ididntwannaship
Title: they never did, but we could
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Tyler Hoechlin/Dylan O’Brien
Character/s: Tyler Hoechlin, Dylan O’Brien, with brief appearances by others
Summary: Dylan wants to go out for the night in the most recognizable car ever. Tyler wants to fly under the radar and have some time with his boyfriend.
Warnings: n/a
Content Notes: angst, fluff, happy ending, secret relationship, coming out, relationship negotiation, implied car sex
Submission Type: Fic
Word Count: ~3200
Prompt: #248 - Cars
Author's Notes: Hey there! New to this, but not really NEW new. Say hello to new identity for RPF, because reasons. Anyway. Cars. How could I not think Jeep/Camaro? And then I thought of Tyler climbing into the Jeep with Dylan, and then I went to car sex. Because um. Yeah. ANYway. The extended higher-rated version of this will be on AO3 sometime this weekend, one hopes. Follow my RPF account to see the update when it happens.
“You’re picking me up in Roscoe,” Tyler says dryly. Dylan looks so damned pleased with himself that it’s hard to be irritated, but at the same time, Roscoe is one of the most easily identifiable set pieces from Teen Wolf. Hell, it’s probably more identifiable than the actors themselves. “Are you trying to make people notice us?”
“This Jeep’s my baby, and I want to enjoy it periodically. Besides, it runs better for me than it ever did on the show,” Dylan says, patting the hood. “C’mon, Tyler. You know you want to go get your leather jacket and ride with me one last time.”
Eyebrows arch. “Last time?” Tyler lowers his voice and leans closer, eyes crinkling when he grins. “I intend to have you screaming more, more. This isn’t any kind of a last time.”
He knows he’s got Dylan distracted by the way Dylan’s gaze drops to his lips, the way Dylan licks his own lips and swallows hard. “Dude,” Dylan whispers. “If we weren’t standing outside your hotel right now, I’d… fuck, you know what I’d do.”
Tyler shifts his weight, subtly trying to make himself more comfortable after that thought. He doesn’t know exactly what Dylan would do, but he has a few ideas. Most of which have nothing to do with two old friends meeting up on a night off and going out for drinks. Which is all they’re doing. At least according to the public, and the paparazzi hiding in the bushes, taking snaps while they talk.
Dylan shakes his head, flexes his fingers as he steps back. He tugs open the passenger door to the Jeep and bows as he motions at the inside. “Your carriage awaits.”
The windows are up, and the cover’s on the Jeep, so as soon as Dylan has the door closed they have a moment of almost privacy. Tyler sinks back into his seat, head against the headrest, and closes his eyes as he exhales. “I hate this.”
“Hate what?” Dylan asks as he gets the Jeep started and pulls out. Tyler opens his eyes and glances in the rear view mirror; two girls jump out into the road, taking pictures as they drive away.
“That.” Tyler gestures at the mirror. “The fact that they’re following us.”
“They don’t think anything’s going on between us,” Dylan says. He leaves his hand in the space between them, palm up as he wiggles his fingers. Tyler covers his hand and squeezes slightly, feeling some of the tension slip away.
Dylan licks his lips, navigates through Vancouver traffic. “They’re just excited because my job here just finished up yesterday, and you’re in a few days early before your shoot starts, and that means we’re meeting up for the first time in months.”
Lie, but the public doesn’t know that. For a very good reason.
Tyler runs his thumb along the side of Dylan’s hand. “They’ll scrutinize everything we do in that club tonight.”
“We’re going to be with Shelley, Holland, and Colton. Trust me, everyone will have plenty to talk about without involving us. Or by involving us with them. Don’t you remember what happened last time?” Dylan asks.
Tyler feels his cheeks heat, remembering a text from Tanner at godawful early the next morning asking when he started dating Shelley because of pictures that came out of them dancing. “Last time they managed to imply I was dating each and every one of you, and that Colton was cheating on Jeff with me. I think I remember seeing a hot threesome label on the pictures where we had Shelley dancing between us.”
“I am pretty sure that if you said you were into it, Shelley would be on board,” Dylan deadpans, and Tyler squeezes his hand harder, face hot.
“Yeah, no, pretty sure you’re enough for me.”
He loves the color that rises under the moles that dot Dylan’s cheeks, the way his eyes close for just a second as if he has to recover. “Y’know….” Dylan trails off, carefully unwinds his hand from Tyler’s so that he can get both on the steering wheel. “We could just forget about going out. We could turn around, go back to your hotel-”
“And the three waiting photographers in the bushes,” Tyler points out.
“My hotel-”
“You’re a bigger star than me,” Tyler says gently. “Dyl. It’s okay. We’ll go out. They’ll get tired, they’ll assume we’re drunk off our asses and going wherever together to pass out.”
“I’m not drinking tonight,” Dylan says carefully. “When we’re done being social tonight, I don’t want to pass out. I want to lock myself in a room with you and not emerge for a solid twenty-four hours. Maybe more.”
“I’m in,” Tyler says, and Dylan’s grin is enough to leave him wishing they were done with the evening already.
#
Tyler texts Shelley when they’re arriving, and she meets them at the door, waving wildly as they leave the Jeep with the valet. Dylan shoves Tyler from behind, and they stumble into the club laughing as if they’re already halfway to drunk. Shelley kisses Tyler sloppily on the cheek, then wraps her arms around Dylan as they head to the table Colton has staked out at the back of the club. Holland raises a glass, gestures for them to slide into the booth.
Tyler wasn’t expecting Emily to be there, or Charlie, but he’s not exactly surprised, either. Somehow Colton has made this a party, and has added on to the ability to obscure what’s in plain sight. He feels something knock his foot under the table, and Colton raises an eyebrow as Dylan presses against Tyler’s hip, squeezing them in the booth.
Thank you, Tyler mouths, and Colton nods.
“I want to dance!” Shelley shouts over the music. She hasn’t sat down yet, and she already shimmies to the music, happy and free. She wiggles her fingers, and Holland shoves at Tyler.
He finds himself sliding right back out of the booth, Holland’s hand in his as she drags him onto the dance floor. Colton blows a kiss as they leave, and Tyler ends up sandwiched between Holland and Shelley both.
There are pops and flashes all around them, and he can’t tell what’s the lights in the club, and what are phones taking candids as they dance.
He honestly doesn’t care, not now, not as long as Dylan’s still sitting back at the booth.
It doesn’t take long until the others join them. They’re a large group on the floor, Colton dancing briefly with Charlie before he swings Emily away instead, and they waltz around the edges, laughing. Holland dances with Charlie and Dylan, while Shelley stays with Tyler, but they shift around, until they end up in one large group, trading partners and laughing constantly.
Tyler feels the press of fingers against his forearm, and turns, expecting to see Dylan or one of the others. Instead it’s a doe-eyed girl, blinking into the light, her mouth in an O.
“You’re Tyler Hoechlin,” she says, shouting it at him and covering her mouth immediately after. “Oh my God, you’re really here.”
“We’re really here,” Dylan says, looking over Tyler’s shoulder. “Did you want a picture?”
There’s a high-pitched squeal, and for a moment Tyler thinks the girl might faint. But Holland gets an arm around her shoulders, and somehow they end up back in the corner booth with the girl and her friends, arranging themselves for picture after picture in so many different combinations.
At one point, Tyler has Dylan on one knee and one of the girls on his other, with both kissing his cheeks. He’s flushed from the heat and the attention, and it doesn’t help that Dylan manages to get his hand on Tyler’s back, under his shirt.
“Thank you so much!” the girl says when they’re done, leaning up to shyly press a kiss to Dylan’s cheek. Tyler covers the way Dylan steps back quickly by leaning in to offer his own cheek for her to do the same. She laughs when Colton grabs her and dips her dramatically.
“We are all over the internet,” Tyler says.
“We all are,” Holland replies, “so don’t worry about it. Dylan, can you drop off Shelley and me at our hotel? Colton’s got Emily and Charlie, and I don’t feel like taking a cab back.”
They pair up for the walk out, Holland with her head tilted against Dylan’s shoulder, Shelley riding on Tyler’s back. Dylan’s expression is tight until the valet brings Roscoe around, relaxing as soon as he gets his keys.
The girls climb in the back, while Tyler takes the front. Shelley leans past Tyler, one hand through the open window as she waves. When someone steps up to take their picture, Shelley presses her cheek to Tyler’s and howls loudly.
Tyler winces. “That… is going to be someone’s Instagram story in about five seconds.”
“You’re welcome.” Shelley pats his shoulder as she leans back. “You know we love you, right?”
He clasps her hand, squeezes it before kissing her fingertips. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”
#
Tyler has to climb out in order for the girls to exit the Jeep. Shelley kisses him quickly on the lips, and Holland lingers over her hug, dragging him down to her level so she can kiss both cheeks. “Go have fun,” Holland whispers. “Stay away from the paps.”
“Definitely,” Tyler whispers. He hugs her one more time, then watches as she heads into the hotel. Once he’s sure she won’t be bothered, he climbs back into Roscoe, where Dylan is drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “What?”
Dylan licks his lips. “You trust me?”
“If it gets us away from the people stalking you, so we don’t end up with pictures of our naked asses on the internet, then yes,” Tyler says dryly. “Whatever you’re thinking, I’m up for it.”
Dylan nods once quickly. “Hang on, then.” He peels out, and Tyler spots the car following them. No, two cars. Dylan is intently focused on the road, driving as fast as he can without being unsafe.
They lose the first car when they enter the highway, and the second is gone before they exit again, twenty minutes later.
Tyler has no idea where they are, but he doesn’t really care, since they’re actually alone. “I’m impressed,” he murmurs.
“I’m not done yet,” Dylan counters. “That was just the first part of the plan. I have a destination in mind.”
Dylan winds through the streets, weaving his way out of town into a more rural area. Trees. Remote. He heads off the main road, and manages to follow a narrow dirt access way into a forest. There’s a small turn-off, and Dylan takes it, squeezing into something that might be a barely Jeep-sized parking space.
Dylan cuts the engine, glances over at Tyler. “So, I was thinking.”
“A romantic walk in the woods, so we can get lost?” Tyler asks, one eyebrow rising.
Dylan turns toward him, rubs his thumb across that eyebrow. “Don’t Derek-glare me, Ty. We don’t get a lot of alone time, and I know this isn’t exactly comfortable, but I just was thinking. About Roscoe. Because they never did, but we could.”
“They never did what-oh.” Tyler stumbles onto the thought halfway through speaking, and Dylan nods quickly.
“Yeah. I mean. We don’t have to. But it’s private,” he points out. “And it’s, well, probably one of the most significant set pieces. We don’t have access to anything else, really.”
“The Camaro would’ve been uncomfortable,” Tyler says dryly. “Not that this won’t be.”
“Tell me you never fantasized about it.”
That would be a lie.
Back when they’d first been made aware of how popular they were, when people were talking to them at conventions about Derek and Stiles, and about the Jeep and Camaro, that’s when Tyler started thinking about it. When he first started thinking about Dylan, even. For a long time, Dylan and the Jeep were tangled in his mind, and he’d think about the way Dylan’s fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, or the way Dylan tumbled out of the car when the door opened.
Tyler exhales, chest tight.
“We spent a lot of time in here, in those early days on the set,” Dylan says quietly. “Before we-” He gestures between the two of them. “Before we were us, before we even had a chance to realize there could be an us, we were in this Jeep for hours. You, me, and a lot of glaring and laughing. This Jeep was our place. And it feels sometimes like it’s still our place. When I drive it, I think about being on set with you, and then it feels like you’re with me.”
“So you want to have sex in Roscoe so you can think about that when you’re driving around Hollywood,” Tyler says.
Dylan grins. “Well, yes. But mostly, I just want to have sex with you. In private. And in Roscoe.”
Tyler undoes the seatbelt slowly, spreads his hands. It’s awkward while Dylan climbs out of his own seat, ending up straddling Tyler’s legs, but the moment they settle together, it seems perfect. Dylan frames Tyler’s face, kisses him slowly while Tyler grabs onto Dylan’s ass and tugs him closer.
“When we started the show,” Dylan whispers. “This was all about them. Stiles’s Jeep, Derek’s Camaro. But now, Roscoe’s mine. And this time, it’s all about us.”
#
Nothing about sex in a Jeep is easy, but it's good, because it's always good with Dylan.
Afterward, Dylan idly plays with the hair at the nape of Tyler’s neck, where it’s grown long enough to be styled for his new movie. It’s quiet and comfortable, the kind of moment that they rarely get to have.
“I miss you when we’re not together,” Dylan says quietly. “I don’t mean like we just were, I mean like this. Ty. I just want to be with you. I want to wake up with you more often than once or twice every few months. I want to make out in the car, or on the dance floor. I want you to come to my set, or I’ll come to yours. Fuck, I just want to see you and smile because you’re there with me, and we’re okay.”
Tyler rubs small circles into Dylan’s skin. “We’re okay,” he says, because he knows where this is going. He knows exactly where this is going, and his chest hurts, and his mouth is dry, and he feels like he can’t catch a breath.
“Ty.” Dylan draws back, leans against him, forehead to forehead. “Tyler Hoechlin. I love you.”
Tyler presses a hand to Dylan’s cheek. “I love you, too.” This part is easy. This part is what they do.
Dylan stays there for several heartbeats, then reaches out, undoes the latch on the door and pushes it open. He climbs out, dragging his clothes with him.
“Where are you going?” Tyler’s chest is still tight, his mouth full of unsaid words.
“Getting dressed.” Dylan smirks. “I could drive back naked, but it might be awkward if anyone notices.”
It’s a good point.
Tyler reaches for his shirt, tugs it on, then sits there, pantsless, and tries to figure out if he can manage to dress without getting out of the Jeep.
Dylan finishes, leaves his shirt untucked as he leans back in, hand on Tyler’s knee. “Hey.”
Tyler looks over at him, at the way his hair is mussed, sticking up in a hundred different directions. At the smudge of dirt on his cheek from God knows where, at the purpling love bite just visible under the collar of his shirt. He remembers how it felt to be joined with him, that bliss of knowing they could be that close, even for a few moments. And he thinks about how they’ll wake up together in the morning before Dylan slips back through the door between their adjoining rooms and pretends like they weren’t together at all.
“Okay,” Tyler says.
Dylan frowns, pulls back. “What?”
Tyler swallows, forces the word out again. “Okay. I said… okay. Let’s do it.”
“Do what, Tyler?”
He can do this.
He can’t breathe, not right now, but he can do this.
Tyler grabs his pants and his underwear. He manages to get the underwear on while sitting in Roscoe, but he has to swing his legs out, shove his legs into the pants and slide out of the seat, landing on the ground as he tugs his pants up. He zips them up while he struggle to breathe.
Then he looks at Dylan, reaches for him and twines their hands together. “This,” he says. “Let’s do this. In public. Holding hands, dancing with each other instead of the girls, staying in the same damned hotel room on purpose. Let’s do this. Be us.”
“I’m not pushing you into this,” Dylan says slowly.
“You’re not pushing me into this,” Tyler replies. “I’m pushing me into this. Because you’ve got what, a month before you have to start filming that pilot? And during that you’ll be here, and I’m here for at least six months, and if the pilot’s picked up-and you know they will pick it up-you’ll probably get a house here. So we can get a house.”
“We can get a house,” Dylan echoes, bemused.
Tyler stutters to a stop, flushes. “If you want. If I’m not moving too fast.”
“Dude, we have been together for two years, this is not too fast,” Dylan tells him. “But if you ask me to marry you in the middle of the woods, Holland will probably kill us. I’m pretty sure she wants to be involved somehow. And Colton wants to make sure you’re better dressed so the paps can capture it on film.”
“And you?” Tyler asks, because it’s not the right time, not yet, but it’s going to be. Someday, he knows it’s going to be, and this is the first step down that road.
“Whenever it happens, whenever you’re ready, and whatever you’re ready for, I’m in,” Dylan says quietly.
“So you’ll stay with me tonight?” Tyler asks.
“I was already going to,” Dylan points out.
“And walk out of my room with me tomorrow and have breakfast?” Tyler adds.
Dylan nods. “If that’s what you want, we can hold hands over the pancakes.”
Tyler pulls him close, wraps his arms around him. “Yeah. Holding hands over the pancakes sounds perfect. We’ll plan on that.”
“You might want to call your publicist first,” Dylan points out quietly.
“In the morning,” Tyler agrees. “We don’t have to have an early breakfast. Wake up, spend a little time together, make some phone calls, have those pancakes around lunch?”
“Love it,” Dylan says. He kisses Tyler quickly. “And I love you. But for now, we should probably get back to the hotel.”
“Yeah.” Tyler climbs back into the passenger seat, pulls the door closed and sits there, because it all seems so clear now.
Tonight’s not the night, but it’s going to happen. He’s going to ask, and Dylan’s going to say yes. And when it does happen, Tyler’s pretty damned sure Roscoe will be a part of it. Way back on the set, they started out in this Jeep. It’s always going to be a part of their story.
Title: they never did, but we could
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Tyler Hoechlin/Dylan O’Brien
Character/s: Tyler Hoechlin, Dylan O’Brien, with brief appearances by others
Summary: Dylan wants to go out for the night in the most recognizable car ever. Tyler wants to fly under the radar and have some time with his boyfriend.
Warnings: n/a
Content Notes: angst, fluff, happy ending, secret relationship, coming out, relationship negotiation, implied car sex
Submission Type: Fic
Word Count: ~3200
Prompt: #248 - Cars
Author's Notes: Hey there! New to this, but not really NEW new. Say hello to new identity for RPF, because reasons. Anyway. Cars. How could I not think Jeep/Camaro? And then I thought of Tyler climbing into the Jeep with Dylan, and then I went to car sex. Because um. Yeah. ANYway. The extended higher-rated version of this will be on AO3 sometime this weekend, one hopes. Follow my RPF account to see the update when it happens.
“You’re picking me up in Roscoe,” Tyler says dryly. Dylan looks so damned pleased with himself that it’s hard to be irritated, but at the same time, Roscoe is one of the most easily identifiable set pieces from Teen Wolf. Hell, it’s probably more identifiable than the actors themselves. “Are you trying to make people notice us?”
“This Jeep’s my baby, and I want to enjoy it periodically. Besides, it runs better for me than it ever did on the show,” Dylan says, patting the hood. “C’mon, Tyler. You know you want to go get your leather jacket and ride with me one last time.”
Eyebrows arch. “Last time?” Tyler lowers his voice and leans closer, eyes crinkling when he grins. “I intend to have you screaming more, more. This isn’t any kind of a last time.”
He knows he’s got Dylan distracted by the way Dylan’s gaze drops to his lips, the way Dylan licks his own lips and swallows hard. “Dude,” Dylan whispers. “If we weren’t standing outside your hotel right now, I’d… fuck, you know what I’d do.”
Tyler shifts his weight, subtly trying to make himself more comfortable after that thought. He doesn’t know exactly what Dylan would do, but he has a few ideas. Most of which have nothing to do with two old friends meeting up on a night off and going out for drinks. Which is all they’re doing. At least according to the public, and the paparazzi hiding in the bushes, taking snaps while they talk.
Dylan shakes his head, flexes his fingers as he steps back. He tugs open the passenger door to the Jeep and bows as he motions at the inside. “Your carriage awaits.”
The windows are up, and the cover’s on the Jeep, so as soon as Dylan has the door closed they have a moment of almost privacy. Tyler sinks back into his seat, head against the headrest, and closes his eyes as he exhales. “I hate this.”
“Hate what?” Dylan asks as he gets the Jeep started and pulls out. Tyler opens his eyes and glances in the rear view mirror; two girls jump out into the road, taking pictures as they drive away.
“That.” Tyler gestures at the mirror. “The fact that they’re following us.”
“They don’t think anything’s going on between us,” Dylan says. He leaves his hand in the space between them, palm up as he wiggles his fingers. Tyler covers his hand and squeezes slightly, feeling some of the tension slip away.
Dylan licks his lips, navigates through Vancouver traffic. “They’re just excited because my job here just finished up yesterday, and you’re in a few days early before your shoot starts, and that means we’re meeting up for the first time in months.”
Lie, but the public doesn’t know that. For a very good reason.
Tyler runs his thumb along the side of Dylan’s hand. “They’ll scrutinize everything we do in that club tonight.”
“We’re going to be with Shelley, Holland, and Colton. Trust me, everyone will have plenty to talk about without involving us. Or by involving us with them. Don’t you remember what happened last time?” Dylan asks.
Tyler feels his cheeks heat, remembering a text from Tanner at godawful early the next morning asking when he started dating Shelley because of pictures that came out of them dancing. “Last time they managed to imply I was dating each and every one of you, and that Colton was cheating on Jeff with me. I think I remember seeing a hot threesome label on the pictures where we had Shelley dancing between us.”
“I am pretty sure that if you said you were into it, Shelley would be on board,” Dylan deadpans, and Tyler squeezes his hand harder, face hot.
“Yeah, no, pretty sure you’re enough for me.”
He loves the color that rises under the moles that dot Dylan’s cheeks, the way his eyes close for just a second as if he has to recover. “Y’know….” Dylan trails off, carefully unwinds his hand from Tyler’s so that he can get both on the steering wheel. “We could just forget about going out. We could turn around, go back to your hotel-”
“And the three waiting photographers in the bushes,” Tyler points out.
“My hotel-”
“You’re a bigger star than me,” Tyler says gently. “Dyl. It’s okay. We’ll go out. They’ll get tired, they’ll assume we’re drunk off our asses and going wherever together to pass out.”
“I’m not drinking tonight,” Dylan says carefully. “When we’re done being social tonight, I don’t want to pass out. I want to lock myself in a room with you and not emerge for a solid twenty-four hours. Maybe more.”
“I’m in,” Tyler says, and Dylan’s grin is enough to leave him wishing they were done with the evening already.
#
Tyler texts Shelley when they’re arriving, and she meets them at the door, waving wildly as they leave the Jeep with the valet. Dylan shoves Tyler from behind, and they stumble into the club laughing as if they’re already halfway to drunk. Shelley kisses Tyler sloppily on the cheek, then wraps her arms around Dylan as they head to the table Colton has staked out at the back of the club. Holland raises a glass, gestures for them to slide into the booth.
Tyler wasn’t expecting Emily to be there, or Charlie, but he’s not exactly surprised, either. Somehow Colton has made this a party, and has added on to the ability to obscure what’s in plain sight. He feels something knock his foot under the table, and Colton raises an eyebrow as Dylan presses against Tyler’s hip, squeezing them in the booth.
Thank you, Tyler mouths, and Colton nods.
“I want to dance!” Shelley shouts over the music. She hasn’t sat down yet, and she already shimmies to the music, happy and free. She wiggles her fingers, and Holland shoves at Tyler.
He finds himself sliding right back out of the booth, Holland’s hand in his as she drags him onto the dance floor. Colton blows a kiss as they leave, and Tyler ends up sandwiched between Holland and Shelley both.
There are pops and flashes all around them, and he can’t tell what’s the lights in the club, and what are phones taking candids as they dance.
He honestly doesn’t care, not now, not as long as Dylan’s still sitting back at the booth.
It doesn’t take long until the others join them. They’re a large group on the floor, Colton dancing briefly with Charlie before he swings Emily away instead, and they waltz around the edges, laughing. Holland dances with Charlie and Dylan, while Shelley stays with Tyler, but they shift around, until they end up in one large group, trading partners and laughing constantly.
Tyler feels the press of fingers against his forearm, and turns, expecting to see Dylan or one of the others. Instead it’s a doe-eyed girl, blinking into the light, her mouth in an O.
“You’re Tyler Hoechlin,” she says, shouting it at him and covering her mouth immediately after. “Oh my God, you’re really here.”
“We’re really here,” Dylan says, looking over Tyler’s shoulder. “Did you want a picture?”
There’s a high-pitched squeal, and for a moment Tyler thinks the girl might faint. But Holland gets an arm around her shoulders, and somehow they end up back in the corner booth with the girl and her friends, arranging themselves for picture after picture in so many different combinations.
At one point, Tyler has Dylan on one knee and one of the girls on his other, with both kissing his cheeks. He’s flushed from the heat and the attention, and it doesn’t help that Dylan manages to get his hand on Tyler’s back, under his shirt.
“Thank you so much!” the girl says when they’re done, leaning up to shyly press a kiss to Dylan’s cheek. Tyler covers the way Dylan steps back quickly by leaning in to offer his own cheek for her to do the same. She laughs when Colton grabs her and dips her dramatically.
“We are all over the internet,” Tyler says.
“We all are,” Holland replies, “so don’t worry about it. Dylan, can you drop off Shelley and me at our hotel? Colton’s got Emily and Charlie, and I don’t feel like taking a cab back.”
They pair up for the walk out, Holland with her head tilted against Dylan’s shoulder, Shelley riding on Tyler’s back. Dylan’s expression is tight until the valet brings Roscoe around, relaxing as soon as he gets his keys.
The girls climb in the back, while Tyler takes the front. Shelley leans past Tyler, one hand through the open window as she waves. When someone steps up to take their picture, Shelley presses her cheek to Tyler’s and howls loudly.
Tyler winces. “That… is going to be someone’s Instagram story in about five seconds.”
“You’re welcome.” Shelley pats his shoulder as she leans back. “You know we love you, right?”
He clasps her hand, squeezes it before kissing her fingertips. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”
#
Tyler has to climb out in order for the girls to exit the Jeep. Shelley kisses him quickly on the lips, and Holland lingers over her hug, dragging him down to her level so she can kiss both cheeks. “Go have fun,” Holland whispers. “Stay away from the paps.”
“Definitely,” Tyler whispers. He hugs her one more time, then watches as she heads into the hotel. Once he’s sure she won’t be bothered, he climbs back into Roscoe, where Dylan is drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “What?”
Dylan licks his lips. “You trust me?”
“If it gets us away from the people stalking you, so we don’t end up with pictures of our naked asses on the internet, then yes,” Tyler says dryly. “Whatever you’re thinking, I’m up for it.”
Dylan nods once quickly. “Hang on, then.” He peels out, and Tyler spots the car following them. No, two cars. Dylan is intently focused on the road, driving as fast as he can without being unsafe.
They lose the first car when they enter the highway, and the second is gone before they exit again, twenty minutes later.
Tyler has no idea where they are, but he doesn’t really care, since they’re actually alone. “I’m impressed,” he murmurs.
“I’m not done yet,” Dylan counters. “That was just the first part of the plan. I have a destination in mind.”
Dylan winds through the streets, weaving his way out of town into a more rural area. Trees. Remote. He heads off the main road, and manages to follow a narrow dirt access way into a forest. There’s a small turn-off, and Dylan takes it, squeezing into something that might be a barely Jeep-sized parking space.
Dylan cuts the engine, glances over at Tyler. “So, I was thinking.”
“A romantic walk in the woods, so we can get lost?” Tyler asks, one eyebrow rising.
Dylan turns toward him, rubs his thumb across that eyebrow. “Don’t Derek-glare me, Ty. We don’t get a lot of alone time, and I know this isn’t exactly comfortable, but I just was thinking. About Roscoe. Because they never did, but we could.”
“They never did what-oh.” Tyler stumbles onto the thought halfway through speaking, and Dylan nods quickly.
“Yeah. I mean. We don’t have to. But it’s private,” he points out. “And it’s, well, probably one of the most significant set pieces. We don’t have access to anything else, really.”
“The Camaro would’ve been uncomfortable,” Tyler says dryly. “Not that this won’t be.”
“Tell me you never fantasized about it.”
That would be a lie.
Back when they’d first been made aware of how popular they were, when people were talking to them at conventions about Derek and Stiles, and about the Jeep and Camaro, that’s when Tyler started thinking about it. When he first started thinking about Dylan, even. For a long time, Dylan and the Jeep were tangled in his mind, and he’d think about the way Dylan’s fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, or the way Dylan tumbled out of the car when the door opened.
Tyler exhales, chest tight.
“We spent a lot of time in here, in those early days on the set,” Dylan says quietly. “Before we-” He gestures between the two of them. “Before we were us, before we even had a chance to realize there could be an us, we were in this Jeep for hours. You, me, and a lot of glaring and laughing. This Jeep was our place. And it feels sometimes like it’s still our place. When I drive it, I think about being on set with you, and then it feels like you’re with me.”
“So you want to have sex in Roscoe so you can think about that when you’re driving around Hollywood,” Tyler says.
Dylan grins. “Well, yes. But mostly, I just want to have sex with you. In private. And in Roscoe.”
Tyler undoes the seatbelt slowly, spreads his hands. It’s awkward while Dylan climbs out of his own seat, ending up straddling Tyler’s legs, but the moment they settle together, it seems perfect. Dylan frames Tyler’s face, kisses him slowly while Tyler grabs onto Dylan’s ass and tugs him closer.
“When we started the show,” Dylan whispers. “This was all about them. Stiles’s Jeep, Derek’s Camaro. But now, Roscoe’s mine. And this time, it’s all about us.”
#
Nothing about sex in a Jeep is easy, but it's good, because it's always good with Dylan.
Afterward, Dylan idly plays with the hair at the nape of Tyler’s neck, where it’s grown long enough to be styled for his new movie. It’s quiet and comfortable, the kind of moment that they rarely get to have.
“I miss you when we’re not together,” Dylan says quietly. “I don’t mean like we just were, I mean like this. Ty. I just want to be with you. I want to wake up with you more often than once or twice every few months. I want to make out in the car, or on the dance floor. I want you to come to my set, or I’ll come to yours. Fuck, I just want to see you and smile because you’re there with me, and we’re okay.”
Tyler rubs small circles into Dylan’s skin. “We’re okay,” he says, because he knows where this is going. He knows exactly where this is going, and his chest hurts, and his mouth is dry, and he feels like he can’t catch a breath.
“Ty.” Dylan draws back, leans against him, forehead to forehead. “Tyler Hoechlin. I love you.”
Tyler presses a hand to Dylan’s cheek. “I love you, too.” This part is easy. This part is what they do.
Dylan stays there for several heartbeats, then reaches out, undoes the latch on the door and pushes it open. He climbs out, dragging his clothes with him.
“Where are you going?” Tyler’s chest is still tight, his mouth full of unsaid words.
“Getting dressed.” Dylan smirks. “I could drive back naked, but it might be awkward if anyone notices.”
It’s a good point.
Tyler reaches for his shirt, tugs it on, then sits there, pantsless, and tries to figure out if he can manage to dress without getting out of the Jeep.
Dylan finishes, leaves his shirt untucked as he leans back in, hand on Tyler’s knee. “Hey.”
Tyler looks over at him, at the way his hair is mussed, sticking up in a hundred different directions. At the smudge of dirt on his cheek from God knows where, at the purpling love bite just visible under the collar of his shirt. He remembers how it felt to be joined with him, that bliss of knowing they could be that close, even for a few moments. And he thinks about how they’ll wake up together in the morning before Dylan slips back through the door between their adjoining rooms and pretends like they weren’t together at all.
“Okay,” Tyler says.
Dylan frowns, pulls back. “What?”
Tyler swallows, forces the word out again. “Okay. I said… okay. Let’s do it.”
“Do what, Tyler?”
He can do this.
He can’t breathe, not right now, but he can do this.
Tyler grabs his pants and his underwear. He manages to get the underwear on while sitting in Roscoe, but he has to swing his legs out, shove his legs into the pants and slide out of the seat, landing on the ground as he tugs his pants up. He zips them up while he struggle to breathe.
Then he looks at Dylan, reaches for him and twines their hands together. “This,” he says. “Let’s do this. In public. Holding hands, dancing with each other instead of the girls, staying in the same damned hotel room on purpose. Let’s do this. Be us.”
“I’m not pushing you into this,” Dylan says slowly.
“You’re not pushing me into this,” Tyler replies. “I’m pushing me into this. Because you’ve got what, a month before you have to start filming that pilot? And during that you’ll be here, and I’m here for at least six months, and if the pilot’s picked up-and you know they will pick it up-you’ll probably get a house here. So we can get a house.”
“We can get a house,” Dylan echoes, bemused.
Tyler stutters to a stop, flushes. “If you want. If I’m not moving too fast.”
“Dude, we have been together for two years, this is not too fast,” Dylan tells him. “But if you ask me to marry you in the middle of the woods, Holland will probably kill us. I’m pretty sure she wants to be involved somehow. And Colton wants to make sure you’re better dressed so the paps can capture it on film.”
“And you?” Tyler asks, because it’s not the right time, not yet, but it’s going to be. Someday, he knows it’s going to be, and this is the first step down that road.
“Whenever it happens, whenever you’re ready, and whatever you’re ready for, I’m in,” Dylan says quietly.
“So you’ll stay with me tonight?” Tyler asks.
“I was already going to,” Dylan points out.
“And walk out of my room with me tomorrow and have breakfast?” Tyler adds.
Dylan nods. “If that’s what you want, we can hold hands over the pancakes.”
Tyler pulls him close, wraps his arms around him. “Yeah. Holding hands over the pancakes sounds perfect. We’ll plan on that.”
“You might want to call your publicist first,” Dylan points out quietly.
“In the morning,” Tyler agrees. “We don’t have to have an early breakfast. Wake up, spend a little time together, make some phone calls, have those pancakes around lunch?”
“Love it,” Dylan says. He kisses Tyler quickly. “And I love you. But for now, we should probably get back to the hotel.”
“Yeah.” Tyler climbs back into the passenger seat, pulls the door closed and sits there, because it all seems so clear now.
Tonight’s not the night, but it’s going to happen. He’s going to ask, and Dylan’s going to say yes. And when it does happen, Tyler’s pretty damned sure Roscoe will be a part of it. Way back on the set, they started out in this Jeep. It’s always going to be a part of their story.