dylan o’brien + vine
Hobrien AU Based/inspired by this interview with Jason Dohring
"I think I was in love with him the whole time we shot the show together."
He runs faster, feet hitting concrete painfully hard as he pushes himself, Tyler’s words echoing in his mind. Dylan races through the crowd, too revved up to stop and think rationally. No. The time for rational thinking is far gone. Now it’s finally time to let his heart override his brain.
"Some days it felt like I couldn’t be complete without him."
His lungs are burning. Hurting with every inhale. Dylan feels like he’s breathing in fire instead of cool air. His head is spinning, voice rough as he breathes an apology out without really pausing because he can’t wait. He’s waiting long enough. They’ve waited long enough. No more waiting.
"I was actually excited about Sterek because it was so easy to show how much I loved him."
The mental image of Tyler’s pale eyes lowering shyly as he talks to the interview gives him a renewed burst of strength, helps him push himself a little harder when he realizes he’s close. So close. After so many yearss
"It might sound cheesy but he’s like my happy place, you know?"
Dylan curses Tyler a million times over in his head as he races down busy streets, through the crowd, to Tyler. He’ll repeat them all straight to that stupidly handsome face of his, Dylan thinks to himself (which will no doubt stare at Dylan with unbridled shock). It will feel sweeter than honey to tell Tyler he’s an idiot for confessing his feelings in a damned interview. He’s certain of this. All the way down to his bones.
The certainty grows into an almost tangible feeling in his gut, which settles in the pit of his stomach by the time he’s standing outside Tyler’s door, fist pounding against the heavy door. It’s not unlike a lead ball rolling around his tense, empty stomach as he shifts from foot to foot, so damned eager and nervous.
Dylan is extremely aware of his dishevelled state when he hears the door unlock, one hand self consciously raking through his messy hair. For the first time, Dylan thinks maybe he should have waited. Should have taken the time out to make sure he arrives here looking good instead of a sweating, panting mess.
"Dylan?" Tyler asks warily, standing in the doorway in all his rumpled, perfect glory. "What are you doing here?"
Dylan stares at the man he’s been in love with for the good part of half a decade and thinks, ‘So many things actually.’
He’s here to punch Tyler, call him a fool, ask him why he waited, punch him again for waiting 3 years after they parted ways. But all Dylan can actually think of, is how Tyler loves him.
And he thinks.
He dives forward, hands grabbing Tyler’s face (oh what joy that he’s finally got two inches on the man), steadying him for the hard kiss Dylan plants. Tyler stumbles back and Dylan follows, determined to pour every ounce of his repressed feelings into this one kiss. It’s putting all his eggs into this one basket, Dylan knows how stupid this risk is.
But Tyler is worth it.
Always has been.
Always will be.
Despite knowing about Tyler’s feelings, when Dylan feels a pair of gentle hands cupping his face in return, he can’t help but sag and let Tyler gentle the kiss until they’re exchanging sweet little kisses which make Dylan want to cry.
"Hi there." Tyler greets quietly, eyes hooded but pleased as they watch Dylan carefully. His thumbs sweep slow arcs over Dylan’s hot cheeks, making him shiver and close his eyes. "I guess you saw the interview."
Dylan nods, steals another kiss and murmurs, “Good guess.”
THE RED STRING OF FATE
The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break. This myth is similar to the Western concept of soulmates or a destined flame.
Stiles was like “FUCK FATE, I’ve moved on. “