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Josh wasn't the best at swimming.
Sure, he had taken a few week-long classes as a kid, but those had been dog-paddling in the shallow end. Those had been crawling along the wall and laughing in triumph when you were the first to finish and therefore the first to jump off the tiny diving board in the five-foot area.
This was the complete fucking opposite.
The pool here was six feet deep at it's shallowest and ten at it's deepest. The pool here was cold as hell and there was often some sort of scab floating in the first lane and a wad of hair in the fourth. This pool was the bane of Josh's existence, especially when the fucking lacrosse team threw his fucking trumpet in the fucking pool and made him fucking strip to get it.
Their laughs rang through the cold air and Josh was shivering. This particular morning, the entire basketball team decided to show up to watch the show. And in the very middle sat Tyler Joseph, captain, owner of a Nike-making machine and ultimate fuckboy douchebag. He was laughing especially loud, doubling over when Josh hesitantly tugged off his sweatshirt.
The captain of the lacross team, a guy named Westin, jabbed Josh's ribs with his stick and hissed at him to speed up. If he got caught terrorizing poor Josh Dun, that would be the end of his high school sport career and the beginning of Josh's demise.
So Josh sped the fuck up and practically ripped off his shirt and shorts, wincing when Tyler Joseph cackled manically. Westin did some weird fuckdouche hand signal and promptly kicked Josh into the pool.
His first thought was WHY IS THE POOL THIS FUCKING COLD FUCK FUCK JESUS. The second one disappeared pretty fast when he spotted a gold glimmer from... shit. The deep end.
It was like swimming toward some sort of sea monster or alien or Beyoncé clone. Absolutely terrifying and kind of interesting- who knew that being seven feet under completely silenced the fuckdouches? Josh certainly didn't, and he went deeper still to drown them out and get his trumpet.
The water was like a hug now. Still cold as fuck, but like a hug. A winter hug. Josh hugged back and slowly hooked a finger on his trumpet, fumbling for a bit before drifting so he faced the surface. It sparkled blue and white like a snowflake in the sky in winter. Winter hugs were okay, Josh decided as his back hit the tile. Winter hugs were like summer hugs, just a lot wetter and colder.
He lifted his trumpet up and tried to play a note, but his fingers wouldn't press down the buttons and his lips wouldn't form the correct shape. The sparkle-sparkle of the surface changed a bit. It was darker now, with something neon yellow flashing through the water and tan hands tugging on Josh's arm and Tyler Joseph staring at him like he was the greatest thing ever just before they hit the surface.
Josh heaved in a breath, choked, then threw up a mixture of water and PopTart. Tyler Joseph winced (he looked pretty cute with wet hair) and tugged Josh through the water until they were at the edge. Josh grasped at the tile desperately, coughing up PopTart water and listening as Tyler Joseph tore apart the lacrosse team and the fuckdouches.
"That was way too fucking far, Westin, he almost fucking drowned and you messed with the temperature so it would be freezing!" Tyler Joseph yelled. "I should fucking tell Ms. Believer, she could get you expelled-"
"No no no no," Westin pleaded, and Josh was pretty sure he was crying. "Please, Joseph, I'm sorry-"
Tyler Joseph snorted and pulled Josh out of the pool and down hallways until they were huddled in a closet somewhere, with Josh shivering on an upturned bucket and Tyler Joseph sitting on an office chair across from him. "So."
Josh clenched his teeth and tried to stop shaking because Tyler Joseph was surely going to make fun of him now, just fucking tear into him, and Josh was pissed as all hell and ready to fight back.
"I know I've been an absolute douchebag, but Westin went too far. You almost drowned, man."
Josh froze. This wasn't Tyler Joseph, the fuckdouche who laughed when he tripped on that ledge outside the music room or giggled when another fuckdouche threw the basketball at Josh and it ended up hitting him in the head, making him roll into a wall, and shriek when Coach Jackson appeared above him, offering her hand for the umpteenth time.
This Tyler Joseph was kind and quiet and caring and hot as fuck. Josh wanted to kiss him but had a staring contest with a mop instead.
"So, can we… I dunno, start over? Like as friends and not douchebag and cute nerd?"
The mop was winning.
"If you don't want to, that's fine, dude-"
Josh spun around and held out a (shaking) hand. "Hi, I'm Joshua Dun," he greeted. "I like Star Trek, useless facts, and conspiracy theories."
Tyler Joseph half-laughed. It was like a weird "heh", not really a chuckle but almost. "I'm Tyler Joseph. I like basketball, piano, Taco Bell, and cute trumpet boys who have red hair."
Josh stared.
Tyler Joseph smirked back.
"You…"
"Not entirely the straight guy everyone sees," Tyler Joseph finished bitterly. "I don't even know if you're gay or bi or pan or anything."
Josh blinked (the mop gave up a good two minutes ago) and maybe said that he's gay.
Maybe.
Tyler Joseph looked like he was going to explode and smiled so brightly it was like staring into the sun. Josh needed to sneeze.
"That's cool, man, that's great," Tyler Joseph laughed, standing and offering a hand to help a slightly-shivering Josh to his feet. "I gotta get to ELA, I'll see you later?"
Josh maybe said that he was going there too. And maybe they walked to class together.
And a day later they might've partnered up on a Biology project a bit too eagerly.
And maybe when Josh was sitting across from Tyler Joseph on his bed, Tyler Joseph might have leaned forward and kissed him.
Maybe.