trigger wise - mild anxiety/panic attacks. nothing too bad.
feelings wise - strap yourselves in lmao this one's a lot
"Here. For his head."
He shifts Awsten in his arms and brings a hand up to steady his head so it doesn't flop all the way to one side, before reaching up to take the damp washcloth. "Thanks," he murmurs. He forces a smile and folds the cloth in half, lays it across Awsten's forehead and then presses his lips to his hair. Awsten snuffles but doesn't wake, breathes out warmly against his chest and then settles once more.
Otto climbs onto the bed next to them and reaches out to stroke Awsten's cheek. "He's gonna have a real bad headache tomorrow."
"Yeah." He can't – doesn't know – what else to say. There are no words left. The air is thick. He can feel it draping over them, the blanket of gas that sits heavily over everything.
He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to articulate a heart that has collapsed, shattered to pieces and piled into debris at the bottom of his chest cavity. He doesn't know how to articulate the bleeding, the ache and the burn and the bleeding, the way it feels like his entire world is crumbling beneath him and all he can do is watch.
Awsten has such a large piece of his heart. Almost all of it, as if he's physically climbed into the muscle and claimed a portion like an excited child this is mine all mine mineminemine!
He's never getting any of it back.
And up until now, he was okay with that. More than okay. His heart was Awsten's and everything felt light and airy, like he was walking on water, floating through life on a sparkly cotton candy cloud. He was warm and everything was warm and it was all he knew and everything felt okay.
Nothing is okay.
The world is different. There's a sharpness to it now; a jaggedness, like it's pointed, baring its thorn-like teeth and daring anyone to dive back in.
He's always known the world as some level of that; some level of dark and heavy and jagged, stingers digging into his skin and knives stabbing his organs, feeling like he was being pulled in every direction, stretched like silly putty and about to snap. He always knew hollowness, the feeling that someone had scooped everything out of his chest and left him empty. He was running on fumes without any gas to start with, fighting a losing battle from the beginning.
The good times, the times he felt like there was a crack of light in a sea of dark, when the shadows lessened and the tides let, when everything finally felt light and airy and floaty...those times were rare.
He wasn't prepared for just how rare they were.
Meeting Awsten felt like a tsunami.
The best kind of disaster.
For the first time, every day felt like one of those good times, like light and softness and warmth were what he was supposed to live in.
And it was, light and airy and soft and warm. It was everything he didn't even dream about, the cotton candy skies and roller coaster highs, like the world had finally had its way with him and the dust was finally beginning to settle, like it'd said enough, we've put him through enough, it's time for everything to be good.
It was.
"...he's not damaged, y'know. This doesn't make him broken or damaged or fragile. He's strong. This makes him really fucking strong."
Otto's voice is wavering by the end. It sounds choked. He's not looking up, but his hand is shaking and his lip is quivering. Geoff swallows, feels the tug in his heart and the weight pressing further down into his chest.
There's nothing to say. There's nothing that can make any of this any better.
"Otto-"
"He's not his past." Otto finally looks up at him, rubs vigorously at his eyes and swallows heavily. "He's worked too hard to have anyone treat him like he is. It's pity and he doesn't want it. He doesn't need it."
A tear breaks from the barrier and rolls down Otto's cheek. He doesn't make a move to wipe it away. "I just...I want him to have someone. I want someone to be there in case-" He chokes out a sob. "In case something happens to me. In case something ever happens to me." He pauses with a shake of his head. "'Cause...there's no one else. His mom is great and she'd fuckin' slaughter someone for him, but he just- he hates needing her, y'know? Feels like he's already put her through enough. 've tried ta tell the idiot that's bullshit, but you know him. He doesn't listen."
"Otto-" He tries, again, pauses for a brief moment after saying Otto's name, just anticipating being cut off. Which, he is.
"I don't think I'd be here without him." Tears are freely rolling down Otto's cheeks. His eyes are squeezed shut. "And he's just- he's my best friend. He deserves everything. So many people have fucked him over and let him down and torn him apart until there was nothing left. He's had to rebuild- god, so many fucking times. And I- I don't think he can do it again. It almost killed him, the last time. Mark, almost killed him. And he just- he doesn't need anymore, okay? He needs good. Easy. Safe."
"Nothing 'bout me's easy," he mutters. He looks away from Otto and back down at Awsten, brushes his fingers through his hair and rests his hand on top of the washcloth. It's starting to dry.
"You plannin' ta leave for days without a word and make him go out of his mind worryin' or pin him to the bed when he says he won't have sex with you?"
He freezes.
It feels like there's ice in his veins.
The world comes to a screeching halt.
Everything stops.
Otto shakes his head and looks up to meet his eyes. The tears are threatening to break again, glistening at the surface. "He needs good. Please. Be good."
Geoff swallows. His own eyes are misty. It feels like there's sandpaper in his throat. The ache behind his eyes tells him tears aren't far. "I-I will."
"He's my best friend," Otto repeats. "He's my best friend."
...
Everything hurts.
The world is one giant ache. It centralizes behind his eyes; presses against his skull with such a force that even the tiniest movement is a thousand hot coils scalding his skin.
He swallows. It sends more sparks of pain down his throat. Everything is dry. It all hurts. He takes in a breath that seems to sit in his chest, stay in its ball instead of expanding and extending its limbs to deliver oxygen to the rest of his body. Everything is moving in slow motion. The world is stuck in a thick coat of molasses.
"Sunshine? Hey, you awake?"
Geoff.
It's like daggers, arrows that are shot into his body, inject him with remembrance, with you just told Geoff everything. Like, everything. Like, you don't have another fucking secret. It's all out there. He knows it all. He knows everything. He knows.
"Breathe, love." He pushes against Geoff's chest, tries to squirm away from the large arms wrapped around his abdomen. Geoff doesn't give so easily.
He knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows-
"I- c-can't," he forces out, keeps trying to move away from Geoff's body. Nonononono I have to get out I have to go get me out of here heknowsheknowsheknows nonononono-
"Hey." Geoff's breath is warm against his ear. His voice is soft. The arm he has around his chest and across his stomach is tight. He's squeezing, strengthening his grip and tracing his fingers against Awsten's skin. "You're okay. I need you to breathe for me, okay? Let's do it together. Deep breaths, sunshine. Alright?"
He follows Geoff's lead, does the breathing exercises and feels the bands around his chest start to loosen. Everything is loosening. He takes a shaky breath, and another, and then one more, flops back down to Geoff's chest and keeps breathing weakly.
"There you go," Geoff murmurs. He feels his lips against his forehead. "You did so good."
The room still feels sticky. Heavy. It's too hot. "I, um- I guess- I'm sorry. I never think it's too much until after I say it all and then I realize and it's too late and I just- I'm sorry. I know it's a lot. And it's not your shit to deal with. So please, don't feel like you have to, okay? I'd understand."
He would. It feels like he's on fire, the kind that's electric and no amount of water will do anything to, like he's burning to a crisp and dropping to the floor in a charred, crumbly mess.
"I love you."
He hears the words, hears Geoff say them and acknowledges their existence in the world, but they don't register.
Time seems to stop.
Everything stops.
It's like someone hit the pause button.
His heart is racing. It's hot. Then it's cold. Hot again. Cold. Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold. Cold. There are glaciers in his hands injecting ice through his veins.
Everything stops.
"You don't havta say it back!" Geoff's words are hurried. He says them quickly. "I just- I've wanted to say that for a while, since, um-" He pauses. "Since that day when we got froyo and I called you love for the first time and you looked like the brightest ray of sunshine."
"Geoff-" He starts to say.
"Just, um- I didn't have good days. Not a lot of them, at least. And the ones I remember being good, I don't remember, 'cause they were only good after three beers or a line of coke. And I didn't- I guess I didn't think I could have good days." Geoff's voice drops. "I mean...the shows were fun. Are fun. But that didn't change that I woke up every day wishing I didn't. And then you- y'know how I said before, you make me feel warm?"
He nods, hopes he's looking in the right direction. He's facing Geoff's voice best he can.
"I didn't- I've never felt that before. I've never had that many good days in a row. Fuck, Awsten, I've never gone to a therapist and actually told them shit. I've never let myself get help." Awsten can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks next. "And then I met you. And you...you make me feel like this is possible. Like I can do this. Like it's gonna be...okay? Like one day all of this is gonna be gone. And that's what I'm holding on to, what I've been holding on to, while everything's sucked so bad. You helped me get help, showed me I deserve help; you helped me come out of the fucking closet, Awsten. Figure out who am I and start to be okay, with that person." He pauses. His voice is thick. Awsten can hear the tears. "And every day, when I look at you and see you smile and hear you laugh and get to hold you and kiss your face, I just...it feels warm. I don't- I wish I could write a song about it, but I don't think I could put it into words. I'm just- lucky, I guess. Lucky I have you. Lucky I get to love you."
"I thought that this wouldn't work," Geoff continues. "After everything with Otto. I thought I couldn't handle you putting him first. And I'm not saying it'll be easy, 'cause I know it won't, but after this afternoon...you've given me everything, Awsten. I can't even tell you how much. And you have stuff to deal with too, and I want to help. I want to be there. I love you and I want you to be happy more than anything else." He pauses again. "I know who you are, sunshine. And what you just told me...that's not it. It's part of you, but it's not you. It's a part that hurts worse some days and kills others, and I wanna be there for all of them."
"You don't have to say it back," Geoff repeats. "I just want you to know that I love you, with all my heart, and I'm not going anywhere. I love you for who you are, not in spite of it. And we're in this together, as long as you wanna be." He softens his voice. "You're safe now, sunshine. It's all over. And it's gonna be okay, I promise."
They slide their lips together messily. He catches the side of Geoff's mouth before his lips, but when they do fall into the kiss, they stay that way, press foreheads together and tighten arms around backs, hold and kiss and warmwarmwarm.
And he cries.