breezeblocks; t.j. + j.d.

NUDE PAINTINGS; II

"any fool can be happy. it takes a man with real heart to  make beauty out of the stuff that makes us weep."
-clive barker

TYLER DIDN'T REALLY REMEMBER FALLING ASLEEP, but he knows that he'll remember how he was woken up for ages. his skin was warm, and not the sickly kind of warm that makes your stomach stir. it was the kind of warmth that felt serene and easy; as if you could never be cold again; like the warmth engraving itself into your body came from inside of your being, and not from the outside; like you're being warmed from the epicenter of your body.

tyler's cheeks were rosy, and his hair was wild, and he had paint dried onto his pure skin, and he smiled because of it. he woke up to the sound of birds— yes— birds. he woke up to the sound of birds, beautiful, lively, chirping birds, and the sun was shining delicately over the length of their shared bedroom, and josh had an arm thrown over him.

tyler was just wholeheartedly entertained and enthralled by the concept of waking up so peacefully.

he's always appreciated the little things— the little, simple, joyous things he's experienced so many times. tyler's thankful for things like the way paint spreads out so evenly along a canvas, like the way josh breathes when he's sleeping; calm and soothing and beautiful, like the way a butterfly will occasionally find its way inside their apartment through the window, like the way josh's skin feels against his own. tyler's just a really, really, really thoughtful person with a gorgeous realm of intellectual depth.

"the birds," is the first thing josh says when he wakes up shortly after tyler, "do you hear them?"

the younger boy nods. "i do," he says, closing his eyes and listening, taking it all in.

"they're pretty," josh states, and his voice is laden with sleep and that earthy sound it holds that tyler loves so much.

tyler nods his head again, breathing deep. "they are," tyler confirms.

josh doesn't know how he does it (maybe it's some kind of sixth sense or something), but he finds tyler's small hand amongst the bed, his eyes closed and his mouth smiling. "you're pretty," josh brings tyler's knuckles to his lips, basking in the way he feels.

josh doesn't feel emotion like everyone else. when josh feels something, he feels it with his entire self— his whole, incredible being. tyler loves this about him. tyler loves everything about him.

"you're pretty," tyler turns over, opening his previously lidded eyes and relishing in josh's appearance. josh doesn't have a shirt on, his chest bare and his skin iridescent. tyler loves when josh shows his naked skin, and, no, not because he sexualizes the idea of being nude. tyler just appreciates the human anatomy, really. he appreciates the way josh's lean muscles twist and turn, and the way his skin shines and shimmers, and the way his body is crafted so beautifully.

josh just hums, rotating onto his side as well, opening his own eyes and locking them with tyler's dark ones. he smiles a smile that makes tyler's heart rate speed up— makes his chest swell and his lips curl.

tyler's wearing a shirt of josh's. it's not really the shirt that takes josh's breath away, but it's the way tyler wears it that has josh's mind pulsating with fondness so real. it's a white shirt; a simple, large white shirt, but it's adorned with dry hues of paint ranging from red to the palest green they own.