Loved him.

Jeremy loved him.

Loves. Present tense.

"And Matt just- attacked you? With no provocation?" Sheriff Forbes's voice jerks him a little closer to the surface and Tyler hears himself answering her question.

"Yeah, he, uh, started talking reckless, and started smashing things…" He trails off as he watches through the open window as the paramedics check Matt over. The one working on him, a short woman with dark hair, turns to another worker, a blonde man, says a few words, and turns back to speak to Matt, who nods. He still looks dazed as he lays down on the gurney he's been sitting on, and from this angle Tyler can see the dark bruises covering his face and his split bottom lip. He's distracted from his best friend's mess of a face when a second gurney, this one with a black body bag strapped to it, is pushed by.

He can hear the guest's confusion as they file pass the closed door to the room where he, his mother, and Sheriff Forbes sit. Combined with the dramatic dresses, tailored suits, and bright masks, the ambulances and cop cars, not to mention two stretchers going into separate vehicles, Tyler feels as if he is in a bizarre movie where he's the next to go. Or the reason why it's all happening.

His mother touches his arm gently and he blinks, trying to refocus on what's going on in this room. He looks at Caroline's mother and blesses the fact that he grew up with Caroline, and therefore knows Liz so well. Anywhere else he would probably have been handcuffed and in the back of a squad car already. "Matt looks pretty rough," she says. "You don't seem to have a scratch on you."

Tyler shrugs, trying to appear equal parts shook up, innocent, and nonchalant even as his heart beats furiously in his chest and mind races, panicked, self hating thoughts overlapping each other in his head.

That's because I'm not human anymore-

I could probably get shot in the chest and be perfectly fine-

I'll probably rip your throat out one night because I can't help myself-

I won't have a mark then either-

"I've gotten into more fights than he has," he says instead, calmly, folding his hands to hang between his knees, deciding that the other truth would be the best solution right now. "He wouldn't stop. It was like he wasn't all here, like someone was controlling him… He just kept coming at me, and his eyes were like they were empty, and he wouldn't stop-"

Liz studies him for a moment, a furrow beginning to make its place in her brow, and her hand shakes a little as she writes something in her little notepad. His mother shifts beside him on the couch and Tyler unlaces his fingers to rub the back of his neck with his palm.

"And Sarah tried to stop you?"

"Yeah." Tyler lets out a heavy breath, remembering how suddenly she'd appeared. "Yeah, she, uh, came out of nowhere- well she was standing in the corner, and said some things-"

"What kind of things?"

"I don't know," he says, temper rising. "I wasn't really paying attention. She was trying to st-" He stops speaking abruptly, and his mother and Liz give him funny looks. He'd been about to tell them that she'd tried to stab him but his mind flashes back to his shirtless reflection in the mirror wherein his skin showed no marks. No puncture wounds or anything besides maybe a little redness from irritation, and even though he can pass off a clean face and barely bruised knuckles, a super healing stab wound he cannot. He clears his throat and reminds himself to pick up the bloody letter opener first chance he gets. "She tried to stop me, tried to hop on my back, but I pushed her away and I guess she tripped on something and…"

The room falls silent.

Suddenly Tyler can't take it anymore as the knowledge that he killed someone washes over him yet again. He puts his elbows on his knees, bows his neck, and laces his fingers on the back of his head, rubbing the hair furiously.

"Tyler?" His mother's touch is gentle on his arm and the silence thickens. He leans away from her when all he wants to do is the exact opposite and looks up, taking a few deep breaths through his nose.

"Are we done now?" He asks, itching to get up.

"Just a few more questions," assures Liz, but Tyler barely hears her because when he looks outside of the window Jeremy is now with the paramedics, gingerly taking off his shirt. Even from here, Tyler can make out the bruising, can see the tissue-deep purples and blues, and he can feel Jeremy's wince of pain as the blonde paramedic prods. "Were they drinking?" Sheriff Forbes asks, and it sounds as if her voice is coming from underwater again as Tyler focuses on Jeremy trying to raise his arm.

"Yeah," he murmurs, not glancing away from the window. "Yeah, they were drunk."

==.==.==

"What happened to you?" Jeremy whips around, wincing at the throb of his freshly wrapped ribs. Elena stands behind him, and the arms she has wrapped around herself does nothing to hide the bloom of red bloodstains on her pink shirt.

"What happened to you?" Jeremy counters. She looks cold, and exhausted, and holds herself in a wounded way.

"I asked you first," she sighs.

"Long story," Jeremy brushes it off. "Now answer me."

"Long story," she says and looks away, out at the ambulances a few feet away. "Who got hurt?" The 'besides me' hangs in the air, and the dread is heavy even before he answers her.

Start with the easiest first. "Well, I had to get my ribs wrapped." Elena's eyes snap back to his and she starts forward, but he puts a hand up to stop her. "I'm fine. I don't need to go to the hospital. They won't be able to do anything anyway." She opens her mouth to speak, but Jeremy continues. "I'm going tomorrow though. Pain meds." Elena suddenly looks unsure, more than likely remembering his attempted overdoes and heavy drug use even before then. "Don't worry. I won't…"

They both look away and back at the milling people either heading to their cars or unwilling to leave just yet.

"Who else?" Elena murmurs.

"Matt. He got into a fight."

"Again? With who?"

"Uh," he scratches the back of his neck, "with Tyler."

"Again?" Elena's have widened and she shakes her head in vague confusion.

"He just… he'd been drinking, and he got carried away, I guess. I don't know. I walked in right in the middle of it. That's how I got this." He gestures to his chest. "He threw me into a table…" Elena looks as if she is at a loss for words, and Jeremy understands. Saying it aloud, saying that Matt did these things, makes even it even harder to believe. "He's pretty messed up, he was very… determined. Tyler's fine."

Elena says nothing for a few moments, deep in thought, but seems to force herself to ask one more time. "Anyone else?"

"Sarah," Jeremy answers and figures the next part would be best to say quickly. His voice breaks anyway. "She- she's dead." The shock on his sister's face makes him wish he wasn't the one to tell her. He doesn't know if Elena knew Sarah well or not, but still. "She tried to… I don't even know. She started saying things that didn't make any damn sense, and then she tried to stab Tyler with a letter opener, and things got crazy." He thinks. "Well, crazier. She fell and hit her head on the corner of the desk, and her neck-"

Elena shakes her head, again, looking horrified with eyes that are overly bright. Jeremy doesn't know what to do or say, and just like that night at the hospital, he wraps an arm around her shoulders while she tries to compose herself against his chest. It takes a few minutes, but eventually Elena she pulls back, wiping her eyes, looking twice as tired. "I'm-" her voice cracks and she clears her throat. "I'm going to head home. I can't even… Too much has happened tonight and I just can't…"

Jeremy nods. He understands. "You need a ride?"

She shakes her head and wipes at her eyes again. "I'll see you there soon?"

Jeremy looks back up the still brightly lit Lockwood house. "Nah. I mean," he looks back down at Elena, "I promised Tyler I would stay the night. But unless you want me to-"

She shakes her head. "No, no. I'll be fine. Stay. You promised. I'll be fine. I just need to go back home and get some sleep."

"You sure?"

She gives him a small watery smile. "Yeah. I'll see you in the morning, or at school."

"Yeah, alright." Jeremy ignores the sharp pain that results from giving her a two armed hug.

He watches her take out her cell phone as she walks towards her car, and wonders if he should have mentioned what else happened tonight as a result of the fight. He watches Elena talk on the phone for a few more seconds before turning away. No, he thinks heading back up to the Lockwood mansion to slip into Tyler's room, he does not need Stefan or Damon all over him and Tyler tonight. Or ever.

==.==.==

A 'few more questions' turns out to be another hour and a half of the same questions asked a million different ways, and by the time Tyler exhaustedly makes his way back up to his room, everyone is gone, and he's glad for it; he does not want to speak at all for the rest of the night. His mother gives him a lingering, worried gaze that he ignores as he walks up the sweeping stairs, and doesn't wonder what she and Liz are conversing about in low voices near the front door.

He hasn't forgotten that he's asked Jeremy to stay the night, but he still pauses briefly in the doorway when he walks into his darkened room to find him asleep on his bed.

He quietly shuts and locks the door behind him and leans against the wood. Will he ever get used to Jeremy waiting for him? I love you. The words replay in his head and his stomach does a funny kind of flip. God, he is turning into a sap. And it's true; take right now for instance – despite everything that is happening a soft smile plays on his lips as he watches Jeremy shift in his sleep, and all Tyler feels is a warm rush in his veins, and all Tyler wants to do is brush his thumb across his cheekbone.

His suit jacket is off and his shirt is un-tucked and rumpled from the sheets, but his hair is still slicked back for the most part and he's kept on his slacks and black socks.

Tyler has never seen anything more attractive.

He toes off his own shoes, pads across the room, and settles down next to his boyfriend, who starts awake, drawing a deep breath through his nose. His alert eyes dim slightly when he sees Tyler and seems to remember where he is. "Hey," he says voice slightly husky from sleep. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. I was going to knock on the door downstairs but, you know, I didn't want to interrupt and I figured if they want to question me they will eventually. Why are you looking at me like that?"

Tyler can imagine what Jeremy sees – an expression that is a mixture of serious, and fondness, and affection, and he's probably doing that soft smile but with eyes that roam Jeremy's features. He doesn't answer, but reaches his hand up to stroke Jeremy's check with his thumb. Jeremy leans into Tyler's touch and his eyes slide shut briefly. When he opens them back up, they're a soft brown that warms Tyler up even further. "What?" Jeremy asks again, quietly this time, but Tyler still doesn't answer, choosing instead to lean over and press his lips to Jeremy's. I love you. He hears the words again, and his heart squeezes, and he slides his tongue past Jeremy's lips softly.

He always tastes so perfect. Is someone supposed to taste so perfect every single time?

Jeremy goes to rise up on his elbows, but his hiss of pain fills Tyler's mouth and Tyler presses him down gently with a palm to his shoulder. I love you. It floats around and Tyler wants to take care of Jeremy and whispers as much into the skin of his neck.

He unbuttons Jeremy's shirt as he kisses behind his ear and allows his mouth to skim down to bite at collarbones. Jeremy's legs part easily for him to kneel between. The anger spikes again when he sits back and sees the layers of clean, white gauze wrapped tightly around his chest, but Jeremy's fingers smooth down his arm, and wrist, and plays over the knuckles of his right hand and the anger seeps away to replaced by something much more desirable.

Taut skin jumps under his lips when he kisses Jeremy's stomach and he does it again and again, loving the feel of silky soft flesh heated under his mouth and the growing bulge that bumps his chin as it strains against black fabric.

Tyler's only done this a few times; it's always been like a line. A line that, if he crosses it, will officially make him… it would put a title on him – one that he didn't think he deserved even though he enjoys what he and Jeremy do immensely. Jeremy has no problem doing this, Tyler thinks as he unbuckles his boyfriend's belt and undoes the button. Jeremy has no qualms about putting Tyler in his mouth. He has no issue with giving Tyler pleasure anyway he can. Jeremy loves kissing Tyler's hipbones, and stomach, and inner thighs; Jeremy is always giving and willing. He eases Jeremy's pants down past his hips to rest mid thigh. He doesn't worry about what labels his actions might lend to him because he loves Tyler.

And Tyler thinks he loves him too. He can't be sure, but as he buries his nose into the curly hairs at the base of Jeremy's cock, deeply inhaling his musky scent and revels in the feeling of fingers carding through his hair, Tyler knows that he's never felt this way about anyone before.

He kisses hot, smooth flesh, and hips pump upwards subtly. Another kiss and a long lick along the fat vein on the underside and the shuddering breaths are turned into a single low moan when Tyler takes him all in with one smooth motion.

He likes doing this, he decides as Jeremy falls apart underneath him. He likes it a lot; likes when he swirls his tongue around the fat head, making sure to lap at the beading pearls of liquid in the slit and Jeremy mutters a curse. Likes the feeling of Jeremy alternately tugging and smoothing at his hair and trying to pump hips that are held down by rough hands. And he loves the sound his boyfriend makes when he takes him all the way down his throat and swallows: it's a broken cry that ends in a desperate sounding "fuck, Tyler. Fuck."

It takes a few tries but Tyler figures out how to breathe through his nose while he swallows and he does it again, and again, and again until Jeremy is panting, hands fisted in the sheets, trying to keep his voice down. "I'm going- ah, oh God- I'm-" is the most he can get out before Tyler slides up and swallows around the head of his cock.

Jeremy erupts in his mouth and even though he was afraid all those other times to admit it to himself, this is his favorite part; Jeremy's essence spreading over his tongue and filling his senses. Sliding down his throat and running down his chin. And the way Jeremy sounds, like he'll never catch his breath again and only has enough left to sigh Tyler's name…

He lets Jeremy's cock slip from his mouth, and hears Jeremy's breath catch in his chest as he watches Tyler lick his bottom lip and run a finger up his chin to catch any stray salty drops. His cock gives a small twitch when Tyler kisses the tip.

He lays flat on stomach and settles his head on Jeremy's rapidly rising and falling stomach and closes his eyes when those fingers begin to card through his hair again. He wants to raise his head and look up at him but he's sure the sight of Jeremy loose and disheveled will tempt him too much. His dick is hard enough to cut stone right now and Jeremy's ribs cannot withstand Jeremy getting fucked through the mattress.

"You are way too good at that," he finally gets through deep breaths and Tyler smiles slightly against his skin, giving a little huff of sleepy laughter. God, he's tired and his throat is a little sore, but the buzzing in his brain has slowed and he doesn't feel nearly as antsy anymore.

He feels Jeremy try to sit up, probably to do something to help Tyler feel nearly as satisfied as he is, but Tyler shakes his head against Jeremy's skin. "I'm good," he says and his voice is slightly hoarse from his enthusiastic performance a few minutes ago.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, lay back down." He rubs his thumb idly over Jeremy's hipbone.

Jeremy does as he says, and returns to stroking Tyler's hair. "I guess now wouldn't be the best time for me to explain things? About how I know…everything."

"Later," Tyler mumbles. He's so tired and he doesn't want to think about anything right now- nothing other than how good it feels to be lying against Jeremy and the heavy feeling in his limbs that foretells sleep. "Tomorrow. The story will be the same, right?"

"God, I hope so," Jeremy murmurs. His fingers continue their threading, and Tyler's thumb stays idle, and nothing is said for the rest of the night.