Troyler One-Shot Collection

♦️Not That Big of a Deal♦️

Tyler POV

"Troye?" I asked, as we lounged around in his hotel room, scrolling on our Tumblr dashboards together. We just got back from a Troyler panel, after a long day of meet-ups, getting around energetic crowds teeming with fangirls, and occasionally seeing some of our friends every once in a while. I was exhausted, but in a good way; I always love meeting people, whether they're in shock, or in tears, or holding back squeals that I know all too well in the world of being a fangirl. Despite that, I have to ask him the thing that has been nagging at the back of my head all day.

"Yeah?" He sounded distracted, probably by something he was reading, thinking that I wasn't going to ask anything serious.

"When we were asked about what the two of us were, why did you avoid the question so much?" The interviewer posed several questions about our relationship - though we were just friends - and every time one of them was directed to Troye, he dodged it, either forming the answer into a question, or an giving answer that couldn't be taken seriously, or even turning it around to me. It confused me, considering the fact that he's never said anything to me that hinted at wanting to be more than friends, and because if that, I never thought much about the possibility.

He froze, blinking as if I slapped him. "W"h-what?" he asked, as if not believing the words that just came out of my mouth. Honestly, I wasn't sure I believed them earlier, but I had to ask. I didn't want any uncomfortable tension between the two of us - we were in a really good place, him being one of my best friends, and vice versa - and I figured that getting any truth of what we feel towards each other out of he way would help fix that.

"I mean, was there a reason that you got all nervous during the part where the guy asked us about Troyler?" I inquired, emphasizing the word reason so he'd know that I'm asking more for a specific answer instead of just a vague answer that was along the lines of,'I'm tired.' His eyes flitted back down to his laptop, his jaw set stubbornly. "Troye."

He huffed a frustrated sigh, but there was a defeated look on his face; Troye was never one to hold something in, once you made it obvious you knew there was more to the story than you originally believed. "You're not gonna like the answer to that, Tyler," he muttered in a stern, but somehow strained, voice.

I shot him a look, even though I knew he wasn't looking at me. "Come on, it can't be that bad, Troye. It's not like I'm going to hate you or anything, you know that."

"Ty, it's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

He glanced back up at for a split second, before shutting his laptop without a word, and sliding it beside him on the bed. As I waited for him to continue, he played with the hem of his shirt, in a way that made it obvious he was trying to distract himself. "It's complicated, alright?" he murmured finally, still not quite meeting my eyes.

I shut my own laptop then, knowing full well that this was going to require my full attention. I wanted to get up, and walk over to the over queen-sized bed, on which he was lying on, and do something that might ease him up a bit, but I didn't think he'd appreciate the sentiment at the moment. I couldn't discern a specific emotion on his face - somewhere between embarrassed and aggravated and almost... Scared - but I could tell well enough that whatever the case, this was something to be taken seriously. "Care to uncomplicated it, then?"

"Not really, but I'm not exactly sure that was a question, so I'll do it anyways," he deadpanned, absurdly making me want to chuckle. It was something that I wanted to say to everyone that asked me to do something that I had no desire to do, yet couldn't not do it without looking like an ass.