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Connor steps out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, and heads down the hall to his room. When he gets there, the first thing he notices is a boyfriend-shaped lump in his comforter.
“Evan?” There’s no response, but the lump shifts slightly so Connor tries again. “Evan, baby, what’s wrong?”
“I … I don’t know.” Evan pulls the covers down just enough to expose his head. His eyes widen when he sees Connor standing there in a towel. “Oh god, you were in the shower. I’m sorry. Zoe let me in. She said I could go up, so I just decided to wait. I didn’t know you were in the shower, I’m sorry. I tried to call Jared but he didn’t answer and I didn’t know where else to go. I’m sorry.”
“Evan, Evan, it’s OK. Just take a breath, sweetheart. You know you’re welcome here anytime. Now, what’s going on?” Connor starts rummaging through his dresser drawer, pulling out flannel pants and a T-shirt.
“I don’t know. Everything was just too – too much.” Evan mutters his response, followed by something unintelligible.
“What was that, Ev?” Connor turns away to remove the towel and step into his pants.
“Can you – can you not wear the shirt? You’re really warm and it’s nice.” When Connor turns back around, Evan is blushing bright red.
“Aww, you think I’m hot?” He smirks, sitting on the edge of his bed.
“That’s – that’s not what I said!”
“But you meant it anyway.” Connor grabs at the edge of the comforter. “May I?”
Evan doesn’t respond, which Connor takes as permission to join his boyfriend under the covers. Admittedly, he’s a bit surprised when Evan immediately wraps himself around Connor’s torso and rests his head on Connor’s bare chest.
(It’s not that Evan isn’t touchy. Quite the opposite, actually, but he gets kind of picky about touch when his anxiety is bad.)
They’ve been sitting like this – tangled up in tension and each other – for the better part of 15 minutes when Connor realizes that Evan’s whole body is trembling.
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, you’re OK, Evan. I’m right here. Let it out, I’ve got you.” Connor pulls the shorter boy closer to him and rubs his back soothingly. He continues to mutter sweet nothings in Evan’s ear until Evan sniffles aggressively and tries to speak.
“I-I don’t know what ha-happened,” Evan’s voice is thick with tears, and he stumbles over his words between coughs and hiccups. “Everything was ju-just suddenly too mu-much. I co-ouldn’t ha-handle it anymore.”
“Shh, it’s OK, Evan. You’re OK. You don’t have to handle everything all the time. What happened, baby?”
“I- I was looking at my planner and there’s so much I ha-have to do, and I-I- it’s almost my mom’s birthday and I don’t have a present yet and-and-and—“ Evan’s breathing picks up again, so Connor leans down and kisses him gently, cutting him off.
“Shh, hey, don’t think about it, baby.” Connor slides his lips up to rest against Evan’s temple and mutters softly. “It’s OK to ignore everything for a little bit.”
Evan waits a long, quiet moment before he sniffles and responds.
“I-I can’t. I’ll have to worry about it later.”
“Yeah, you will, but we’re gonna break it down and go one problem at a time, OK? I’ll help you with whatever you need, and it’ll be easy, hmm?”
“Really?”
“Really. Do you wanna start now or do you wanna cuddle some more first?” Evan doesn’t say anything, but he tightens his hold on Connor’s waist. “Alright, we’ll stay here. Movie?”
“Can you sing to me?” Connor feels Evan’s request against his skin more than he hears the words, but it still makes him chuckle softly.
“Babe, you don’t want me to sing. Trust me.”
“Please? It doesn’t have to sound good?” Evan sounds so small, so weak, that Connor can’t say no.
“It’s not going to, but here goes.”
If you had three wishes,
Tell me what they’d be
A fancy car, a new guitar
Or that money grows on trees
If I had three wishes
I tell you what they’d be
If I had three wishes
You would be all three