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Cyrus couldn’t breathe.
He was dying and it could be a blood clot or maybe a heart attack or even a heart attack caused by a blood clot. All he knew was that his chest was too tight and he kept shaking and his face was uncomfortably warm—
The feeling of someone touching his shoulders had him flinching. He let out a pained whimper, shutting his eyes tightly as he forced his hands into his own hair. With his nails digging into his scalp, he had a moment of clarity, but then the possibility of his heart giving out or him being powerless to stop his own death had him crying even harder. He began to sweat, nails digging even harder into his scalp in an attempt to break his thoughts off for just a second. It didn’t work this time, however, and a silent scream left his lips.
Help
He whispered under his breath over and over about how he didn’t want to die and how he had so much to do and how he wished he were normal. He cried until his voice was shot, throat raw and irritated with every sob wracking through his body.
And then there was something cold pressing against his forehead, voice catching a final time as he forced himself to look up.
He was shocked to see T.J. smiling at him like nothing was wrong, a blanket scrunched up in one hand and the cold item in the other. Whatever the cold item was, T.J. had pressed it against his forehead in an attempt to comfort, and surprisingly it worked well. His mind was blanking just enough for him to focus on the male in front of him rather than the now dull aching in his chest or the pain in his joints. The sting of his nails remained even when he managed to pull his hands away from his scalp. He was still trembling, but gently let his hands rest on his lap as he focused on his breathing.
In for two, out for four just like he’d learned.
“There we go,” T.J. whispered encouragingly. Cyrus, now aware of how wet his face felt and how his eyes burned from remaining open for such a long time, blinked the blurriness away.
In for four, out for eight.
“You’re going to be alright,” T.J. said without any doubt in his voice, nodding his head. Cyrus nodded along with him, eyes glued to the warm green ones looking at him with such honesty that he couldn’t help but trust him.
In for six, out for nine.
His throat was dry and his lips felt chapped, but he could sort of breathe. He licked his lips and raised a sleeve to dry his cheeks.
In for six, out for ten.
“T.J…” he croaked, but the other shushed him and removed what he now knew was an ice pack to press his lips against his forehead instead.
“Let’s get you to bed, alright?” T.J offered, but Cyrus shook his head immediately, remaining in the corner of the room as tears threatened to spill again. If he stood, the clot might travel to his heart or lungs, or even his brain, and then he’d die in pain in front of T.J. and…
“Okay, okay, hey, I don’t mind chillin’ on the floor for a bit. Can I at least get you a pillow?”
“Don’t go!” Cyrus gasped.
T.J’s eyes softened and Cyrus felt him reach out and grab his hand. He squeezed as if reminding Cyrus that he was there to stay and that there was no reason that he would leave at such a sensitive time.
“I’m just going right here,” T.J. assured, motioning to Cyrus’s bed. Without removing his hand, He stretched out and yanked the pillow off the bed. “I’m gonna put this behind you so you don’t end up with lower back pain. Sound good?”
A nod.
Cyrus could feel a bit of relief on his back from his cramped position against the wall, sniffling as T.J. took the blanket and wrapped it around him. Rather than leaving him, he wrapped it around himself as well, letting Cyrus’s hand go for a moment to wrap an arm around him. He kept it on his shoulder, Cyrus immediately reaching up to link their hands back together. T.J. did the same with Cyrus’s other hand, letting their connected hands rest on his leg.
“Better?”
“Yeah,” Cyrus breathed, shutting his eyes when T.J. pressed a kiss against his temple. His body crumbled almost instantly, T.J. bracing the weight easily as Cyrus pressed against him.
Suddenly, Cyrus was fighting to keep his eyes open. He still felt the pain in his chest, the pain radiating downwards into his legs and his back. He could still feel the anxiety creeping on the edges of his thoughts, at the corner of his sight, only to disappear when he attempted to face it. When he attempted to stop weighing down T.J, the other shifted closer and pressed another kiss to the top of his head.
“I got you.”
When he opened his eyes, tears formed and the question of ‘why’ threatened to leave his lips. As if understanding, T.J. chuckled and let his cheek rest against the top of Cyrus’s head.
“Because I’m not letting you go anytime soon. You’re stuck with me.”
Cyrus swallowed. “Even if I’m like this forever?” he asked weakly. It was always going to be with him, call it gut instinct or paranoia or simply the nerves talking.
“You won’t be,” T.J. assured, Cyrus immediately wanting to retort until he continued to speak. “Sure, maybe you’ll always feel anxiety and maybe you might have these attacks even when you least expect it, but you’ve done it before,” he murmured. “You’ve gotten through and lived your life just like me or any of your other friends and family members.”
That was right. Cyrus had gotten through attacks in the past.
“But they’ll never stop.”
T.J. pulled away to look down at him, Cyrus pressing his lips into a thin line.
“You got some crystal ball you haven’t told me about, Underdog?” T.J. questioned, wiggling his brows a bit. When Cyrus cracked a tiny smile at that, T.J.’s eyes lit up in such a way that rendered the smaller teen breathless.
“Thank you,” Cyrus said, voice nearly a whisper. “You didn’t have to do any of this.”
T.J. rolled his eyes. “I’d do anything for you.”
With the room not sweltering and closing in anymore, Cyrus cracked a weak smile. “Even murder someone?” he joked as T.J. leaned in to look him directly in the eye.
“Name, address, age, and weapon of choice.”
Cyrus laughed—genuinely laughed, this time—hiding his face in T.J’s neck and nodding his head.
“You’re a weirdo.”
“But I’m your weirdo, which in my humble opinion, is an honor. It hasn't been bestowed unto anyone else but you.”
While a complete joke, Cyrus couldn’t help but let himself smile and feel lucky about that fact as he drifted off, thoughts quelled for the time being. His mind was focused on T.J. and how nice he smelled or how warm he was. Cyrus had always dealt with things like this alone, even if Buffy and Andi or his parents would definitely help if they could. It was the tricky thing about panic attacks: planning had no place during them.
Yet the one person he’d wanted to hide them from most was the one that ended up helping him, not once, but three times.
The universe could be cruel, Cyrus mused as his head rolled a bit, T.J letting his hand go to help him find a better position against his shoulder.
The rest was a blur for Cyrus, though when he woke up in bed with T.J. still hugging him, he couldn’t even remember what had set him off or why he’d had such panic in the first place. All he knew was that T.J. was soothing to watch despite how he had to crane his neck to do so and that his breathing was soothing to listen to. Cyrus leaned up to press a kiss to T.J’s nose, watching it scrunch in his sleep and smiling.
Then, he turned and wrapped his arms around the other, face pressed into his chest and T.J. letting out a sound of confusion.
“You awake?”
Cyrus nodded.
“Feelin’ better?”
Another nod.
A pause from T.J. when Cyrus’s stomach grumbled. His cheeks turned red and he was so glad T.J. couldn’t see his face at that moment in time.
“Wanna order in?”
“Sure. What do you want?”
T.J. hummed as he thought, stretching in a way Cyrus could only compare to a cat.
“I dunno, I’d eat pretty much anything as long as we don’t have to get up and put outside clothes on.”
“Agreed,” Cyrus agreed, heart jumping when T.J. ruffled his hair and pressed a kiss against it in the way he always did.
“Chinese it is. Let me get the menu.”
T.J. stood, yawning as he walked over towards his own side of the room, Cyrus watching as he slowly sat up. He knew he was probably just sentimental right now because of what happened, and he knew that if Buffy were here she’d laugh and tease him about his thoughts.
Despite all that, Cyrus couldn’t help but think that sleepy T.J. hobbling towards his dressed to look for a menu was adorable. He took the blanket off of his body, shuddering at the way the cold attacked his legs. He slowly let them touch the floor, mind flashing back to the concept of a clot as he pushed himself into a standing position.
And nothing happened.
A breath of relief left him, and he turned to see that T.J. was still shuffling through the endless amount of menus they had collected over the semester. He took one step, then another, until he was walking towards T.J. with intent.
“Hey, I can’t find the—”
Cyrus wrapped his arms around T.J., hugging his back as the other’s voice trailed off as if surprised at the gesture.
“Why hello there, here to help me look?” T.J. teased, turning around to wrap an arm around Cyrus’s shoulders.
“Nope,” Cyrus admitted, T.J. pouting.
“Ouch,” T.J. gasped, using his free hand to press against his chest. “I’m going to need someone to save me after that burn.”
Rolling his eyes at his dramatic boyfriend, Cyrus leaned in, looking up at him with a raised brow. “And what happens after I've saved you?” he asked, T.J’s expression going solemn as he pulled Cyrus in closer. Pushing his hair from his face, T.J. smiled.
“I’ll save you right back.”
Cyrus laughed, leaning up on his toes. “You already did that.”
T.J shrugged, leaning down and pressing his forehead to Cyrus’s own with his eyes closed. “And I’ll happily do it again, and again. Because you’ve done it so many times for me that I can’t help but feel like I’ll never catch up.”
Surprised at that, Cyrus let out a soft breath. He leaned up, pressing his hands against T.J’s cheeks.
“Why would you need to catch up when you were never behind?”
With wide eyes, T.J. parted his lips, only for the words to demand time to settle in his mind. Then T.J. was hugging him tightly, chin against his shoulder while Cyrus rubbed his back, all plans of food forgotten.
“I love you.”
Cyrus tensed, both from the shock of hearing those words for the first time and the fact that it was T.J. that was saying them. Then he was laughing, hugging T.J. tighter and feeling like he never wanted this moment to end.
“I love you too.”
Pulling away, T.J’s eyes flickered with hope. “Yeah?”
Cyrus nodded, smiling so wide his cheeks were beginning to ache. He pressed a quick kiss to T.J’s lips before pulling away and looking into his eyes with utter certainty.
“Yes.”