Shut Up and Drive (A Troyler Fanfiction)

For Troye’s seventeenth birthday he gets driving lessons. Well actually more importantly, he gets Tyler Oakley. In fact no, at first he gets a forty something bald guy with an impressive beard. His first lesson isn’t so bad. The man lets him gets the ‘feel’ of the car and Troye learns about the gears, controls and all that. The man ends the lesson with a death grip handshake and drives off. Troye is feeling pretty damn confident about the whole thing. The second lesson is much worse. Much, much worse. The man starts complaining about his ex-wife who has made him bankrupt and put him in debt. All of a sudden he bangs his fist on the dashboard which causes Troye to swerve off the lane and nearly crash into another car. The man yells at him and Troye decided he doesn’t like this teacher, not one bit. It takes two more lessons for him to demand another teacher.

   He sits down at the dinner table with his family and clears his throat, going in for the kill.

“So dad, I was wondering if it would be possible for me to get a new driving instructor.”

“Why’s that son?”

“Well this guy is just a little bit unexperienced,” then he ended up pouring out the whole story of his first four lessons.

“I guess he’s not the best person for the job then. I’ll ring the school and ask for another teacher, yes?”

“Thanks dad, you’re the best.” That night, Troye listens to his dad ask for another, ‘younger’ teacher. Troye nearly snorts, his pretty sure most teachers are over the age of thirty five. But as long as their nice, that is all that matters.

    He curls up into bed that night and scrolls through his phone. He checks all his social media and makes a few comments here and there. Then Troye rolls onto his side and sleeps peacefully. He can’t wait for tomorrow. When he wakes up the next morning he jumps in the shower, using his favourite banana scented shampoo. He scrubs his teeth and just ruffles his hair up a little bit. He pulls on a pair of old sweatpants and a vest, remembering to roll deodorant on. He pops a piece of gum in his mouth and waits patiently for the sound of a car horn.

   He hears the horn a few minutes later and jumps up ready to go. He pockets his phone and skips down the stairs, saying goodbye to his family. He wanders down the drive and looks up. He nearly chokes there and then. Leaning against the car is a twenty something man who is literally the hottest thing Troye had seen. He had mint green quarter lengths on and a light blue shirt. His bright blonde hair was pushed into a quiff which looked unbelievably sexy. He took his glasses off and shot a smile at Troye.

   Was his dad trying to kill him at the age of seventeen? He stumbled over to the man, nearly tripping and stiff as a board. The man reaches out a hand.

“I’m Tyler. Tyler Oakley,” he smiles.

Troye thinks his in love.