Work Text:
His thoughts are racing, again. His mind is wandering from topic to topic, like what they’re going to eat that day, hopefully it won’t rain tomorrow, when is he going to get a job, should he take a nap, is he going to be a letdown and a failure forever -
He senses someone else in the room. He shifts on the couch a bit to get a better look at who’s coming. Well, he does know who it is, but he still wants to see him.
Happi approaches him with curious steps. He looks down at his boyfriend who has his hands crossed on top of his chest and a pensive scowl on his face. Happi’s relaxed smile remains unfazed by the rather familiar sight.
“You called?” he softly asks.
Choromatsu raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” He hasn’t called for Happi.
Happi laughs and sits at the other end of the couch, swaying his legs. “Well, I always seem to know when you're under the weather”, he comments, “and this time I could sense your gloominess from outside our front door. You really emit an anxious energy, you know? So I assumed you’d want me here.”
Choromatsu looks at the ceiling and eyes the lamps. Happi is right, a million percent. Choromatsu loves his presence more than anything else. He’s kind of like a replacement for Osomatsu now that he’s not living with said brother anymore, or any of his other brothers. Osomatsu knew when to tone down his obnoxious persona when Choromatsu was down and knew how to make him feel at ease. Happi’s also like that, except that he has the calming effect surrounding him at all times of day.
It makes Choromatsu feel warm.
Happi leans in a little, crawls next to Choromatsu on the couch. They can fit well, the two of them, as the couch is big enough. Choromatsu’s fairly sure that this couch is new and that Happi bought it just before Choromatsu could move in, most likely for situations like these.
They lie there on the couch, Happi wrapping his other arm around Choromatsu and pulling him closer. Choromatsu lets out a content sigh, but he still feels rather bad. It’s not often that he can be fully calmed down with soft words and physical contact, as most of the time he isn’t even sure himself about what he wants. He wants some miracle cure, something to make all these bad thoughts go away, something to make his muddled thoughts clear again and get him out of the countless loops where he’s too paralyzed to do anything because of his anxiety.
He’s thought of going to get professional help, but he’s not sure how to bring it up with Happi. He knows he doesn’t need any permission, and that’s not what he’d even be asking for. He just doesn’t want to go through these things alone.
It feels as if he’s a child who needs someone to hold their hand, but at that moment he’s too tired to deny it.
Happi nuzzles his face under Choromatsu’s chin. Choromatsu tries to smile, and succeeds, but it feels like Happi is far away even though he’s lying right there next to him.
He needs something to ground him. To make his heart stop racing. To make it easy to breathe again.
“Can you lay on top of me?”
He doesn’t fully realize at first what he said, but when he replays his words in his head, he feels his face start heating up. Happi raises his head and looks at him with a thoughtful expression before smiling warmly.
“Sure”, he agrees, and squirms into a better position to place himself on top of his timid boyfriend. Choromatsu swallows, very much embarrassed, too tense to say anything. In truth, he doesn’t really want to say anything in the first place.
They stare at each other for a while, face to face, before Happi lays his head on Choromatsu’s chest. Choromatsu reluctantly raises his arms and wraps them around Happi’s back. He doesn’t squeeze, just sets them to rest on the brunette.
They just lie there in silence. Choromatsu isn’t sure what to think of this setup, but after a while and letting himself calm down, engulfed in Happi’s warmth and weight, he starts feeling more at ease. He feels close to Happi, and the weight is slowly but surely making him feel more grounded. He smiles again, this time wider. He likes this feeling.
“You OK down there?” Happi questions, and Choromatsu can hear the smile in his voice.
“Yeah”, Choromatsu answers, and then adds: “Thank you.”
Happi reaches out his hand to stroke Choromatsu’s hair. Choromatsu melts into his touch, feeling like he’s in some kind of personal heaven of his of sorts. Like Happi is his angel.
Fuck, he’s starting to sound like Karamatsu.
But he doesn’t feel as ashamed as he probably should.
Happi lets out a hearty hum-like laugh. Choromatsu hopes he’s enjoying his position as a blanket, as he himself doesn’t feel uncomfortable in the slightest. In fact, he feels like he could fall asleep right then and there.
He feels warm and safe. He wants to stay there forever.
But, when a solid 10 minutes has passed, Happi apologizes and tells Choromatsu he needs to get to work again. Choromatsu had almost forgotten that Happi had a job.
He feels like a burden again, but the cold shivers have turned into warm waves.
Choromatsu doesn’t get much sleep anymore. “Anymore” having started almost instantly when he had entered his twenties and living with his parents had become less socially acceptable as it had been when he had been 19, for some reason. Maybe it’s because he could have been in university, or at any sort of place where he could have made himself useful. Like just a basic job as a cashier.
And even now when he isn’t living with his parents anymore, he’s still unemployed. If he’s being honest, it makes him feel guiltier than living with his parents ever had; his parents had been used to having six freeloaders to take care of, and Choromatsu hadn’t been alone in that NEET pit. Familial bonds might have also played a part in it.
But now he is leeching off one person who had to provide for the both of them, not to mention that Happi’s someone he’s supposed to support just as much, if not even more. He feels like he’s dragging Happi down, and he’s scared about their financial state no matter how many times Happi keeps telling him that he has a well-paying job and that if they had something to actually worry about he’d tell Choromatsu as to keep him in the loop because they basically shared their problems now. And Choromatsu wants to believe him - he does believe him, but something in his brain tells him that Happi’s just trying to make him feel better and that his words are empty.
It’s that sleepless night next to Happi that finally triggers his brain to have an anxiety attack. He sits up, covered in sweat and trembling like a plate of jello, makes his way out the bedroom into the kitchen to have a glass of water.
He hadn’t heard that Happi had followed him, and when he turns around he nearly jumps out of his skin, barely able to keep himself from dropping the glass.
Happi gives him an apologetic smile and comes closer to him, patting him on the shoulder. “You good?” he asks, and Choromatsu knows he knows.
Even so, Choromatsu responds with a weak: “No”, fully aware of the fact that that much is obvious. His breaths come out shuddering and he feels uncomfortable.
Happi lets out a thoughtful hum and hugs Choromatsu from behind, slowly rocking him from left to right. He lays his head in the crook of Choromatsu’s neck. Choromatsu places down the water glass and grabs Happi’s hands with his own, mimicking his movement. He likes the pressure when Happi squeezes him, it’s not too tight but also not too loose. It’s like when Happi had lied on top of him, but a more tamer version of that.
Choromatsu, thinking about it, wants Happi to do that to him again. He doesn’t say that, though, partly because he feels like every word he tries to form would die in his throat, but also because he feels ashamed. He doesn’t want to bother Happi, not to mention that a request like that was stupid the first time and would be even stupider the second time.
So, he stays quiet, apart from his shaky breathing that’s gradually getting quieter.
He doesn’t understand how Happi manages to soothe him every time, but he knows that it’d be selfish of him to ask the other to never stop being there for him like this.
Days pass and he still can’t sleep. He feels like he’s getting worse and worse, he spends his days looking for jobs and getting rejected from every. Single. One. Sometimes he doesn’t even get to an interview, and when he does, he ends up flunking them completely. He stumbles in his words, he feels nauseous and unfocused, he can’t take it when they stare at him and ask him those stupid questions he should have stupid answers for but he never does and he feels miserable and hopeless.
It’s like they can smell his fear and with that his weakness. It’s a weird way to put it, but that’s what it feels like, and Choromatsu can’t think of anything he hates more than them . He isn’t even sure who “they” are. Maybe “they” means everyone in general, everyone who runs this system he’s trapped in.
It’s a fucking loop and he’s terrified he won’t ever get out of it.
“You should take a break”, Happi tells him one day. He’s clearly concerned for Choromatsu, and it makes Choromatsu feel like shit.
Choromatsu’s sitting by the coffee table, his eyes glued to the laptop screen. “I will when I’m done”, he says.
“It’s Saturday, Choro”, Happi sighs. “When will you be done anyway? You’re like some sort of ant, they’re never actually done with whatever they’re doing.”
“Even ants are called worker ants for a reason”, Choromatsu responds, the words coming out more cold than intended.
“It’s like job hunting in and of itself is your job now!” Happi exclaims, crosses his arms. “Let me rephrase what I said: You need to take a break. You can’t take this overexertion for long, you know? You’ll get a burnout sooner or later, and those cannot be fun.”
Choromatsu grits his teeth behind his lips. He wants to tell Happi off because he’s busy and tired and angry and he can’t stand Happi at that moment. Then he feels guilty for thinking that, and then he wants to apologize for something he hasn’t even said out loud, and then he wants to cry and ends up doing just that.
Happi lets his arms fall to his sides as he sits down next to Choromatsu by the coffee table and pulls him into a hug. Choromatsu sniffles and promptly responds to the hug. He stains Happi’s shirt in tears and snot, and that makes him feel even worse. But Happi doesn’t mind, only stroking his hair and whispering to him how much he loves him, how much of a hard worker he is.
“Do you want to have a nap or something?” Happi asks him when he’s gotten his tears to stop flowing so freely.
Choromatsu removes himself from Happi’s hug and gives a weak nod as a response.
They end up sleeping for quite a while on their bed. Happi naturally falls asleep faster than Choromatsu does, but Choromatsu joins him not long after. Maybe it’s because Happi’s partially on top of him. Choromatsu isn’t sure what it is about the pressure, but to him the calming effect is almost instantaneous.
“I’m going to have to stay overnight at a hotel for work.”
Choromatsu isn’t codependent, far from it actually. He hates having to rely on others when he doesn’t need to, but when Happi says those words, he feels his blood run cold.
“Just for one night?” Choromatsu asks, keeping his voice calm.
Happi nods, he looks like he wants to apologize, and that he does. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll leave tomorrow at around 8:00 and come home the next day at 17:00 or so.”
That feels like a very long time, Choromatsu thinks. He knows he can manage, it’s not like he’ll die if they’re apart for more than 24 hours. But even so, Choromatsu feels uneasy. He can calm down from anxiety attacks on his own when he needs to, and he can cook for himself (finally). All in all he could live on his own if he wanted to.
There’s just one tiny problem, though.
How will he be able to sleep?
He doesn’t mention it to Happi. Happi has enough work weighing on his back, he shouldn’t be hovering around Choromatsu worried about every single thing that there was to worry about, especially not about something as trivial as sleep.
Happi smiles weakly, as he tends to do, and gives Choromatsu a kiss on the cheek. Choromatsu doesn’t blush anymore when he does that, and he kind of misses the feeling of slowly falling in love. It is comfortable though, and he smiles back in response.
Choromatsu definitely doesn’t sleep that night. He listens to Happi’s breathing, thinking about how in five hours Happi was going to get up and leave him. They’re cozily snuggled up to each other, but Choromatsu doesn’t feel at peace.
When morning rolls around and Choromatsu’s lying alone in the empty, cold bed, he hugs his pillow in search for a similar comfort that only Happi could provide him. Of course, a lifeless object such as a pillow can’t give him that, so when Happi is out the door, Choromatsu gets up and makes himself some tea.
It’s very quiet in the house. It always is when Happi is away, but this is a different type of quiet. Usually Choromatsu is able to put on the TV or radio for some background noise while he cleans and cooks and looks for jobs, but this time it doesn’t work. Because he knows that this silence won’t be broken by Happi at 17:00 that day, it will only be broken at 17:00 tomorrow.
He really doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He’s hungry, so he eats. He’s bored, so he searches for jobs. He’s tired, so he watches TV. He’s still tired, so he contemplates if he should go to sleep early. It’s only 18:00, and he sighs. What if Happi calls him? He can’t miss a call. It’s so early anyway, and he has things to do, like look for jobs again. That’s all he ever does, right? Maybe Happi had a point. Without him, all Choromatsu can think of as a way to kill time is look for jobs.
He feels stupid.
Choromatsu lies on the couch, his eyelids feeling heavy. He gets a notification on his phone, and he’s quick to grab it from the coffee table.
It’s a text from Happi. “Look under the bed” , it says. Choromatsu is instantly curious as to why Happi would want him to look under the bed at 19:30 at night, so he complies. It’s a rather ominous message, and had it been sent by anyone other than Happi, Choromatsu would probably get a kitchen knife just in case.
He goes over to the bedroom and places his phone on top of the bed. When he crouches down to look under said bed, he sees what seems to be a package. Raising an eyebrow, he fishes the package out with his hand and lays it on the bed. It’s plastic and there seems to be something gray inside of it, and when he opens it, what comes out is what seems to be a blanket. He spreads it out on the bed, and it feels different than a normal blanket. It’s way heavier, he realizes.
A weighted blanket? he questions. At first he’s confused why Happi would have bought such a thing, but it slowly dawns on him. He feels a smile forming on his face as he feels the soft material with the tips of his fingers.
It’s early, but Choromatsu brushes his teeth and changes his clothes to something more sleep-appropriate. He forgets about thanking Happi as he slithers under the new blanket. It’s cozy and warm and heavy and he loves it. He curls up under it and lets his worries float away.
Choromatsu feels secure. He knew weighted blankets could be beneficial for many types of people, but for his anxious self to experience the feeling of one first hand was lovely. It sounded so stupid in his head, he knew, but the calming effect the blanket had on him sort of reminded him of Happi.
It might have been a combination of “this is a gift from Happi” and “this is warm like Happi”.
He feels content.