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The moment Rin notices his hands are trembling a little too much for someone who’s simply trying to open a fridge, he knows he’s done for.
“Oh shit. Ohshitohshit. Not here. Please, not here.”
The acknowledgement of the fact seems to only make it worse; in response to his mumbling, his lungs become heavy and useless, and he has to force himself to inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale (if he closes his eyes, he can hear his mother’s voice repeating the words through the years). Nothing happens really fast or slow, but it’s there, it’s coming, and Rin knows there’s no stopping it.
It couldn’t have worse timing, could it?
Just my luck. The house smells like Haruka – Rin himself might smell a little like Haruka due to prolonged exposure -, and for the first time ever, he feels like just running away from that house as fast as possible.
He can’t see it.
Please don’t let him see it.
The sensation of utter, unspeakable fear gripping at the very core of his being wasn’t exactly something he wasn’t familiar with, yet it always felt like the first time. His limbs felt heavy, the fabric of Haruka’s shirt was suddenly heavy and itchy against his skin, everything was wrong.
And Haruka couldn’t see it.
“Rin?”
Please please please please no
The voice came from upstairs, and, to Rin’s ears, it sounded like a command to hide. He tried to move, to go somewhere, and some part of his brain decided it was a good moment to remember how Gou would get worried at times like these – a six-years old Gou sobbing with nervousness, a nine-years old Gou holding his hand and pulling calming words out of thin air, and the quiet, supportive Gou that would sit by his side and try to mend his broken pieces as silently as possible.
He never wanted her to see that either. He didn’t want anyone to see that. It was better to lock himself up alone than to face his worried mother trying to help him, better to chew on his lips and cheeks than to answer to Nitori’s worried callings in the middle of the night when he managed to overhear a sharp intake of breath coming from the bed under his own, better to-
“Rin.”
Haruka was a heartbeat away, fingertips brushing hesitantly against Rin’s shoulders.
No no no no no no please no
When did he come down? Why was he there? Haruka wasn’t mean to see it. Haruka couldn’t see it. The blood kept rushing to his chest, adding pressure to the pain engulfing him in sweat and shivers. Now he was definitely scared.
“I’m… I’m…”
I’m fine, he wanted to say. He wasn’t. Maybe I’m weird would be more appropriate. But Haruka had seen it already – he had seen him at his worst, he’d never-
“Come here.”
A pair of arms gently helped him out of his shirt – when did this shirt become so tight, anyway? –, as if Haruka could see the turmoil on his mind and understand the holy hell this shirt is suddenly imprisoning me part of it. But there was something weird and oddly embarrassing about Haruka helping him to strip, and Rin instinctively hugged his own torso, trying to pull the shirt back down.
The gesture was not highly appreciated, as exposed by the tiny frown between Haruka’s eyebrows.
“Rin, you’ll be fine. I’m trying to help you to breathe.”
“Don’t… need…” The words died on his mouth and he gasped for more air, and a raspy sound came from his suddenly tight throat. Once again, Haruka’s hands tried to free him from his own shirt, and, this time, Rin accepted the gesture, trying to focus more on his chronic panic than on the new wave of panic provoked by the stupid idea of Haruka’s fingers brushing against his torso.
“There.” Rin could swear he saw Haruka’s hands shaking a little as he put the shirt aside, or maybe his vision was just going crazy like the rest of his body. “I’m gonna bring you water.”
“Don’t wanna… choke…” He wanted to tell Haruka the last thing he needed was to try to swallow water when his throat seemed to barely allow any air to pass through it, but his breath was too short for all that.
“Right.” Haruka was kneeling by his side now, and Rin felt the hesitant sensation of a cold arm against his sweaty back. “I’ll help you upstairs. Yeah.” His eyes were dancing between Rin and the floor, like he was trying to rapidly decide if that was okay – Rin would’ve laughed, if only his lungs allowed him to. “Is it fine to go to bed or do you want to stay here?”
“Doesn’t matter… ugh… shitty one way… or another.”
Only when he was sitting on Haruka’s warm bed, nestled in sheets and soft pillows, he wondered how the hell they managed to reach the room, since Rin’s legs were most probably too heavy to work, or so his body wanted him to believe.
He never really liked lying down while having a panic attack – he felt a little overwhelmed and suffocated at how Gou and his mother would bend over him in worry, hardly noticing how the gesture only made Rin more nervous. But Haruka’s bed felt different, smelled different, and Haruka wasn’t bending over him; the small warmth next to Rin indicated that either Rin’s panic was setting the bed on fire, or Haruka was quietly lying down next to him.
He turned his gaze to face a portion of Haruka’s black hair, looking incredibly shiny and clean under the fractions of moonlight drawing forms in the dark of the room. Blue eyes watched him from a distance, not with panic or too much worry (he’s not disgusted, sings a small part of him, and it’s enough to cool down his skin a bit). Haruka’s eyes were as quiet and indecipherable as ever, as if that was just another ordinary sleepover, and Rin just happened to share a bed with him and make funny noises while trying to breath.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. A quiet sea waited for him on Haruka’s eyes, and breathing was a little easier.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Haruka said something in a low voice, but Rin didn’t really pay any attention. He only noticed how the faint sound of Haruka’s voice seemed to synchronize with his own little mantra.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. The sweat was starting to feel colder against his skin, and his hands weren’t shaking as much when he decided to extend his nest of blankets to Haruka. Well, it was his blankets after all. Nothing weird about that.
Inhale, exhale. It took him a while to notice how much unnecessary distance there was between him and Haruka, a very honest attempt to give Rin some space. He smiled. What a weirdo.
Inhale. He could feel Haruka’s smell a little better now.
Exhale. “Sorry.”
The unexpected word makes Rin blink in confusion. “What?”
“I’m no good at this.” Haruka’s voice is nothing but a whisper. “We should’ve called Makoto.”
The unexpected turn of events makes laughter force its way through Rin’s tired body, despite the pain that’s still quite strong on his chest. Well, at least now he can breathe more like a human and less like a fish out of water.
He laughs a little too much for someone who was gasping for air minutes ago, and Haruka frowns again.
“What.”
“You.”
“What about me?”
“What did you want to call Makoto for?” Rin punctuated the phrase with more laughter. “So I could vomit my guts over him as well?”
“You were not vomiting your guts.”
“I kind of was. You just missed it.”
They became quiet again. There was something calming about that moment, and Rin didn’t want it to end. Hopefully, Haruka wouldn’t kick him back to the futon where Rin usually slept during their sleepover sessions.
“Are you feeling better now?” Worry flashed through Haruka’s eyes, and Rin had to mentally order the butterflies on his stomach to give him a break.
“Yeah. Kind of.” He bit his lip. “Uh, sorry about it.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
The sensation of a gaping hole of pain was still vivid on his chest, but talking with Haruka had proven to be a great distraction, so he decided to give it one more try.
“It, uh, sucks.” Wow, that’s a smart thing to say, Rin. Damn right it was.
“Yeah.” Haruka shifted under the covers. “I didn’t know about it.”
“It’s not like I go around telling people about all my weird shit.”
“It’s not weird.” Haruka paused. His eyes studied the ceiling. “Since when do you have them?”
“The attacks?”
“Yeah.”
“Since my dad- Since I was little.”
It was quiet between them for a while before Haruka spoke again.
“What makes it stop?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I need to know so I can be useful and help you properly next time.”
“You helped enough.”
“What makes it stop?” Haruka repeated the question in a stubborn tone, and he didn’t have to look at Rin to know he was rolling his eyes.
“It doesn’t.”
“What?”
“It doesn’t simply stop.” Rin shrugged. “Nothing works. No medicine, no weird ancient technique. Trust me, I’ve tried quite a few.” He smiled weakly. “I just have to tough it out.”
He decided not to mention that his attacks usually lasted for a longer time and that Haruka made things a lot easier; there wasn’t really any way of saying it without embarrassing the hell out of himself.
“There must be something.”
“There isn’t, Haru.” Except for maybe your stupid voice and your stupid comfy bed. What. No, he wasn’t going to voice that. Not now, not ever.
“Okay.” Haruka’s voice sounded sleepy; Rin allowed himself to close his eyes and just listen to it for a better effect. “But I’ll still try to help you.”
“Okay.”
“Hmn.”
“Oh, before you doze off- Am I, uh, sleeping here tonight? Not that I mind.”
“I don’t mind either.”
“So I’m sleeping here tonight.”
“Yeah.”
“Nice. I like your bed.”
“I like it too.”
“Oh, shut up and go to sleep, Haru.”
“Yeah. You too.”
“You first.”
“You first.”
“Gimme a break, will you?” Rin tried to suppress his laughter. His chest was light, and Haruka was warm and comfortable next to him.
When Rin dreamt, it was about his heart swelling on his chest.
It hurt a lot, until Haruka kissed him on the lips at the top of a white mountain of blankets and the pain was replaced by butterflies.
His lips tasted funny when he woke up.