Just the Way You Are
Seraph_Novak
Summary:
When Cyrus writes his number on TJ's hand, a misunderstanding ensues...
It wasn't until the streetlights flickered to life that TJ realised what time it was. He'd been sat on the swings with Cyrus for almost four hours, simply basking in the easy conversation that bounced between them, never once lapsing as they casually drifted from topic to topic. With Cyrus, talking was like breathing; his words never tripped over themselves, and his mind never wandered. His only complaint was that in moments like this, when it was just the two of them enjoying each other's company, time moved far too quickly.
"It's getting late," Cyrus said reluctantly, glancing at the distant glow of the streetlights creeping into the park. "I should probably head home…"
TJ smiled tightly. He knew saying goodbye was inevitable, but it didn't make it any less hard. Talking to Cyrus on the swings was his favourite part of the day, and the only time he felt truly content. He only wished they could hang out more often.
"Okay," he said, offering Cyrus his hand as they hopped off the swings together. For a moment, his fingers curled and tightened around Cyrus' hand, his pinkie shyly brushing the pink of his knuckles. When Cyrus' pulse jumped beneath his touch, he finally let go. "Sorry," he muttered, not sure why he was apologising in the first place. "Do you want me to walk with you?"
Cyrus shook his head. "I'll be fine, but thanks."
"Okay."
"Same time tomorrow?"
"Sure," he said, smiling despite the sting of Cyrus' rejection. Well, it wasn't exactly a rejection, but it still hurt. If Cyrus knew how badly he wanted to walk him home, maybe he wouldn't be so quick to turn him down. Or maybe he'd be creeped out. TJ wouldn't blame him.
"Are you okay?" Cyrus asked, as if sensing the downward spiral of thoughts wreaking havoc in TJ's mind. At his answering silence, Cyrus placed a comforting hand on his arm and smiled knowingly. "I hate saying goodbye, too."
TJ winced, a self-conscious blush pinching his cheeks. Despite Cyrus' confession, he still itched with the embarrassment of having his feelings exposed. He felt inside out, the evening breeze brushing his beating heart as he stared down at his feet, too overwhelmed to meet Cyrus' gaze. He wasn't sure when his harmless crush on the younger boy had developed into something bigger – something real – but he knew for certain that there was no going back now. Ever since Buffy had introduced him to this loveable dork in the cafeteria almost three months ago, TJ had been a goner.
"I just wish we could talk more," he said softly, absently kicking at the woodchips beneath his feet. He scratched the back of his neck and sighed, finally daring to peer up at Cyrus through quivering lashes. "I mean, I get it… Your friends hate me. They think I'm a bad influence." He huffed a humourless laugh. "They're probably right, but still… I like talking to you."
Cyrus chewed his bottom lip, visibly moved by TJ's words. "I like talking to you, too."
"But only on the swings, right?"
"No," he said, a deep frown creasing his brow. "You think I like avoiding you in school, pretending I don't know you? I hate it, Teej. I wish we could be friends without having to hide it. If only Buffy and Andi –"
"I get it, Cy. You don't need to explain yourself." TJ gave him a half-shrug and smiled, his jaw trembling with the effort not to cry. Even in the falling darkness, he could see the guilt etched into Cyrus' expression, and he hated it, hated people feeling sorry for him. "I think I'm gonna head out, too… I'll see you later."
As he turned to leave, Cyrus grabbed his arm and held him back, the guilt shimmering in his eyes now shifting into desperation. "Wait!" he cried. "I don't wanna leave things like this."
"It's fine, okay? I'll talk to you tomorrow –"
"No!" Cyrus' grip tightened around TJ's arm, his knuckles turning white as he urged him to stay put. With his other hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. For some reason, it made TJ chuckle. Of course Cyrus was the kind of person to carry emergency pens in his pocket.
"What are you doing?" he asked, studiously fighting the fond smile curling his lips.
Cyrus removed the pen cap with his teeth, then scribbled something on the back of TJ's hand. When he moved his head out of the way, TJ could see a string of numbers written across his skin. It looked suspiciously like a phone number, but he didn't want to get his hopes up.
"What's this?"
"You know what it is," Cyrus said, a flirtatious grin brightening his beautiful face. He traced the numbers delicately with the pad of his thumb, and TJ felt his breath hitch. "You're right," Cyrus murmured. "We don't talk nearly enough."
TJ dared to smile. "Are you asking me to call you, Underdog?"
"Call, text, FaceTime… I don't care, as long as I get to talk to you as much as possible."
A warm sense of giddiness pooled in his gut as he stared down at Cyrus, an uncontrollable grin devouring his face. They stood there in silence for a few moments, simply smiling at each other like a couple of idiots, and then Cyrus cleared his throat and took a step back. A light blush was creeping up his neck, and TJ had to look away before the urge to kiss him became unbearable.
"So… I'll text you?"
Cyrus nodded, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. "Yeah, okay."
"Night, Cyrus."
"Night, TJ."
On his way home, TJ replayed the past few minutes in his head over and over again, his heart fluttering at the memory of Cyrus' bashful smile after writing the number on his hand. His face was aching from smiling by the time he crawled into bed, and he didn't waste any time putting Cyrus' number into his phone and sending him a text.
Hey, Underdog. Guess who?
A few seconds later, a red exclamation mark popped up beside the message, underlined by the words "failed to send".
TJ frowned. That was weird. After resending the text, and getting the same result, he tried calling him instead. There were a few crackling beeps, and then a robotic voice told him the number wasn't recognised.
"What the hell?"
His throat started to tighten as understanding set in. Cyrus must've given him a fake number. It was the only explanation. Yeah, there was a chance he wrote it down wrong, but this was Cyrus; he was meticulous when it came to things like this. And it made sense, didn't it? Cyrus had clearly chosen Buffy and Andi over him, and now he was delaying telling him. Everything that had happened in the park earlier had been a lie, just a sneaky way to appease his desperation to be liked for a little while longer. He felt like an idiot.
"Well," he said to himself, swallowing thickly as silent tears spilled down his cheeks. "I guess that's the end of that."
Avoiding Cyrus was more difficult than he'd anticipated. Despite his betrayal, TJ still ached for the other boy, still missed him in a way that tied his stomach into knots whenever he thought about him. He kept searching for him without even meaning to, his heart begging for just a glimpse while his head cursed at him for being so weak. He couldn't help it; he was a mess.
Even now, when it was growing dark outside and Cyrus was surely at home texting his real friends and forgetting all about him, TJ found himself heading towards the park. Besides a couple of birds picking at the woodchips, it was empty, but TJ had excepted as much. Still, he couldn't ignore the twinge of disappointment in his chest.
"Damn it," he muttered to himself, throwing his bag on the ground as he approached the swings. With his hands gripping the cold, metal chains, he hung his head and sighed. "I miss you…"
"I miss you, too."
TJ flinched, his heart leaping into his mouth as he turned around. Much to his surprise, Cyrus was standing on the edge of the park, a sad smile ghosting his lips. After a moment of simply staring at each other, Cyrus made the first move and walked towards him.
"I've been looking for you," he said.
TJ shrugged. "Well, I've been busy." The lie was heavy on his tongue, like a lead weight slipping down the back of his throat, but he soldiered on. "I'm surprised you noticed."
"What's that meant to mean?"
"It's not like we see each other much, is it?" TJ tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a strangled whimper.
Cyrus frowned. "But, that's why I gave you my number –"
"Oh, yeah! Your number." He shook his head slowly, a cynical smile twisting his mouth. "That was a good one. You really got me."
"What?"
"Don't play dumb."
"I'm not!" Cyrus exclaimed, his confusion giving way to anger. "Why are you being like this?"
"How did you expect me to react, Cy?"
"I thought you were happy when I gave you my number? I thought… I thought that we…" For a moment, Cyrus seemed lost, like the world was off-kilter and he couldn't find his balance, and TJ had to restrain himself from reaching out and offering his support. "I guess I misread the situation," Cyrus murmured, more to himself than TJ. "I'm sorry."
At that, TJ deflated, all of his pent-up frustration dissolving into utter, bone-deep sadness. "Why did you do it?" he asked. "That's all I wanna know."
"You already know why."
"I really don't."
"Fine." Cyrus threw his hands in the air, flecks of tearing springing from his eyes as he did so. "I like you!" he cried. "And not just as a friend. Are you satisfied now?"
TJ blinked at him. "Wait… What?"
"Don't make me say it again."
"But that makes no sense!"
"Why not? You're handsome and funny and you listen to me –"
"No, no, no." TJ waved him off, his head spinning too much to appreciate the compliments spilling out of his crush's mouth. "I mean, why would you give me a fake number if you liked me? Is that your weird way of playing hard to get or something?"
Cyrus wrinkled his nose. "Fake number?"
"The one you wrote on my hand? It didn't exist!"
"That can't be right."
"I tried texting you and calling you, but the number wasn't recognised." He paused to gather his thoughts, internally wading through the confusing mix of emotions buzzing inside his head. "I thought you did it on purpose, so you wouldn't have to reject me in person."
Cyrus spluttered a laugh. "Are you serious? You really thought I was trying to reject you?"
"Well…"
"TJ, I gave you my real number. I know I did."
"You definitely didn't." TJ fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Cyrus. "Check the messages. They failed to send because the number wasn't real."
Cyrus scrolled through the undelivered texts, a brief smile passing his lips, then pointed at the screen. "This isn't my number," he said, raising his eyebrows at TJ. "You must've copied it off your hand wrong."
"I didn't! I checked!"
"Well, I didn't forget my own number, TJ!"
"Then how do you explain –" He froze mid-sentence, a sudden realisation dawning on him. Within seconds, his cheeks were burning with shame, and his stomach was starting to churn. He clenched his fists and stared down at his feet, a tremor running through his jaw as he forced himself to open his mouth and speak. "Cyrus… What does that number say?"
"What do you mean?"
"Can you please just read it out for me."
Cyrus furrowed his brow, but did as he was told. "It says 801-460-1254."
"Oh no…"
"What's wrong?"
"This is so embarrassing."
"TJ?"
"I'm an idiot," he said, his voice cracking as fresh tears sprung to his eyes. With a shaky breath, he took the phone out of Cyrus' hand and read the number, a sob catching in his throat as his brain refused to focus on what he was seeing. No matter how hard he tried, the numbers felt jumbled and confused in his mind, like the order was lost in translation from the screen to his brain. "I thought I was past this… Guess not."
Cyrus placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Talk to me, TJ."
"You won't like me anymore."
"I seriously doubt that's going to happen."
"Even if I'm stupid?"
"You are not stupid," Cyrus gently scolded him, his hand slipping down TJ's arm to thread their fingers together. "Please, just tell me what happened."
Encouraged by the squeeze of Cyrus' hand, TJ sucked in a deep breath and told him the truth: "A couple years ago, I was diagnosed with a learning disability… Dyscalculia. It's like dyslexia, but with numbers. Which explains why I suck at math, but… I never thought I had to worry about stuff like this." He flicked a glance at Cyrus, chewing the inside of his cheek as he tried to gauge his reaction. "Still like me now?"
Cyrus swept a thumb over his knuckles. "I think I like you even more, actually."
"Because I'm stupid?"
"Because you're brave."
TJ snorted. "I'm a coward, Cy. A stupid coward."
"You just had the guts to confide in me about something you're clearly uncomfortable about. You don't think that's brave?"
"I've been avoiding you for days," TJ countered, finally looking Cyrus in the eye as his embarrassment gave way to frustration. He was overwhelmed with anger and guilt, caught between apologising profusely and punching himself in the face. "Doesn't that bother you? I was in so much denial over this stupid disability that I blamed you, the only person who's ever given a damn about me… Why aren't you more upset right now?"
"I am upset," Cyrus said, his words achingly soft as he took a step closer to him. "But not because I'm mad at you. I'm upset that you don't understand how amazing you are."
TJ winced. "You don't know me."
"Of course I do."
"We hardly talk… Your bodyguards make sure of that."
"Well, not anymore," Cyrus said, his eyes twinkling. "I love Buffy and Andi, but I'm not gonna let them control my life. And if they're really my friends, they'll understand." He hooked his pinkie around TJ's thumb and smiled. "At the end of the day, they want me to be happy. And you're what makes me happy."
TJ licked his lips and glanced away. "What about the other thing?" he asked, his eyes glued to the corner of the sky. "I can't even copy a number off my own hand without screwing up… Why the hell would a straight-A student like you wanna be with an idiot like me?"
Cyrus shrugged. "Why would a perfect athlete like you wanna be with a physically-incompetent nerd like me?"
"That's different."
"It really isn't."
"But –"
"We all have our own stuff," Cyrus carefully interjected. "You struggle with numbers, and I struggle with sports. Our brains are just wired differently, okay? That's not a bad thing."
"It's not as black and white as that…"
"Maybe not," Cyrus conceded. "But that doesn't change the fact that I still like you. I doubt anything would at his point."
After a few moments of silence – no longer heavy with tension, but light with the promise of a fresh start – Cyrus took TJ's other hand and slowly eased the phone from his grip, completely casual as his fingers danced across the screen.
"What are you doing?" TJ asked.
Cyrus waggled his eyebrows. "I'm giving you my number," he said simply, handing back the phone with a giddy smile that erupted a swarm of butterflies in TJ's stomach. "I like being with you, and I like talking to you. So, if you feel the same way, give me a call sometime."
A boyish grin crept across his face. "How about tonight?"
"Okay." Cyrus bit his lip. "I'll be waiting."
And with that, he bounced a few step backwards, his eyes gleaming as he held TJ's gaze, and walked away. At the edge of the park, he turned around and waved goodbye, his gorgeous smile making TJ lightheaded even from a distance. A dizzying sense of happiness filled his lungs and burst out of him, painting the evening sky yellow with the colour of his laughter. Cyrus had barely been gone for two minutes, but he couldn't wait any longer; he had a very important call to make.
"Hey," he said, smiling at the sound of Cyrus' voice on the other end of the phone. "You free to talk?"
