Work Text:
Mercifully, it’s a school holiday.
Ernest had run off with his friends hours ago, so Hugo gets to enjoy having the house to himself. It’s about noon when he gets the text.
“Hiding in the bathroom. Actually going to die lol”
Hugo frowns. The coffee shop does tend to get busy when the kids are out of school, so it’s no surprise Matt’s anxiety would get the better of him sooner or later.
He types out a reply, “Do you need me to come get you?”
“Nah, I’m fine.”
“You’re hiding in the bathroom.”
“Like I said. Fine.”
“Just close up early, sweets. Or have someone else cover for you. You don’t deserve this.”
“Ehhhh”
Hugo sits up straighter in his chair, preparing his best Teacher/Dad voice, which is especially hard through text. “Don’t make me come down there, Matthew. I won’t tolerate you being hard on yourself.”
There’s a long pause before Matt’s next text. “I’m in the car now.”
“Thank you, honey.”
Hugo spends the next five minutes making sure the living room is best-suited for Matt. He turns off all the lights, save for a single lamp, closes the blinds, and turns off the television and ceiling fan. He knows how Matt hates excess light and noise when his anxiety spikes. There’s a knock at his door a few moments later.
Hugo gives Matt a gentle smile as he opens the door, and keeps his voice low as he speaks. “Come on in.”
“Thanks.” Matt mumbles, his eyes on the floor. He shuffles over to the couch and promptly curls up into a ball, making himself as small as possible.
Hugo follows him, plucking books from the stack at the end of the couch before he sits down. Matt seems a tad too small for the normal poetry book they read from when he’s little.
Hugo glances down at Matt to see him almost huddled, hands close to his head. They’re almost covering his ears, as if he’s prepared to block out any bad noises at a moment’s notice. Perhaps it’s best to just have some quiet time for a bit.
Hugo gives him ample space, since touch sensitivity is one of the first things to hit Matt when it comes to sensory overload, and goes about quietly reading a book of his own.
Ten minutes pass. Then fifteen. Then twenty.
They’re approaching the forty-five minute mark when Matt finally uncurls from his ball and closes the space between him and Hugo. He rests his head on Hugo’s lap, and Hugo returns the gesture by stroking Matt’s hair.
“Story, please?” Matt asks in a tiny, tiny voice. There’s an unspoken request in his voice, one that says “I’m very little right now and would like a story but would also like to keep the room very quiet so I don’t have another anxiety attack.”
“Of course.” Hugo murmurs. “Anything for my brave little guy.”