Troyler One-Shot Collection

♠️Wedding Date Pt. 2♠️

Troye POV

Despite originally wanting to go against Tyler's outfit color scheme to annoy him, I ended letting him wrestle me into a sapphire blue bow-tie to go with my usual formal wear - a button-up with a solid colored jumper over it, and pants that were a step up from jeans but not exactly fancy.

We were both getting ready at his house, in his upstairs bedroom, before going to the reception. Tyler was already almost done getting ready, having a head start on me before I got here, and was styling his hair in the bathroom right now.

I, however, am only now discovering the struggle of actually putting on a bow-tie.

It turns out that you don't just tie a bow, like I originally thought, resulting in a tangled mess of fingers and the blue tie. I stood in front of the long mirror that Tyler propped up against his armoire, working at it impatiently, keen to fix it before Tyler sees me. I ended up making it worse, though, by somehow managing to get the collar of my shirt caught in it. He already knows I'm hopeless with ties, but I thought I'd have at least one chance to take him by surprise, and actually do it right for once.

But no such luck.

A loud, high-pitched cackle rang throughout the room behind me, shattering the fairly quiet atmosphere. I swung around, startled, to see Tyler standing in the doorway, his shoulders hunched with the laughter that he was trying ( but failing ) to suppress. "What the fuck did you even do, Troye?" he asked as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves.

"I tried to put on a tie," I explained ineffectively, unamused by his reaction.

"Keyword, tried."

"Just shut up and help me fix this."

Tyler shook his head exasperatedly, a hint of a bemusement showing in his small, affectionate smile. He approached me then, stopping just when the toes of his shoes touched the edges of my still-bare feet. He was close enough that I could see the sunlight coming from the window reflecting off of his eye lashes. They were longer than I thought, curving up enough that when he looked up at me, they touched the skin above his eyelids. I guess it was just hard to tell before, since they were a light shade of blonde, like his natural hair color ( he dyed his hair a lot, ever since he came out, but right now he was sporting a "bold Cookie Monster blue" ).

Tentatively, he brought his hands up to my tie, prying a short fingernail underneath one of the loops. He glanced up, raising his eyebrows fractionally while meeting my eyes, silently asking permission. My heart was beating wildly, from how close in proximity he was standing to me, and from the way I could feel shallow breaths of his brushing against my throat due to our height differences. I could feel myself getting flushed in the heat of the moment, but I nodded to his questioning look.

While his fingers may be short and slightly stubby, they worked quickly and efficiently at the base of my neck, undoing knot by not with smooth progress. His brow furrowed slightly in concentration, but there was something about the way he was focusing on the tie that made it seem like he was distracting himself. It was like he was trying to keep himself from looking somewhere else. For a second, I wondered if maybe my zipper was down, or if I had an obnoxiously huge zit on my face that I never noticed.

But then his eyes flitted to mine once again. With newfound determination, I met his gaze head on, and watched as he immediately looked back down on his work, biting his lip as a prominent blush spread across his cheeks.

Normally, I would've made a quip that pointed out the fact that I made Tyler Oakley blush - because it was a very satisfying occurrence - but this time, for whatever reason, it felt different. The moment seemed more delicate, even breakable, somehow. It made me think about that moment under the tree a few days ago, when his fingers were laced in mine, and we both looked down at the linked hands without saying a word. It was another one of those, except this time there was more tension packed into the uneasy silence.