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For the fourth time this week, Cyrus walks into the cafeteria with bags under his eyes, and TJ instantly feels a pang of empathy for him. He’s been agonising over finals, studying deep into the early hours of the morning nearly every night, despite constant reassurance from everyone that he’s prepared. TJ’s tried reasoning with him: he pointed out that he’s even more likely to fail if he falls asleep during the exam, but his words seem to have fallen on deaf ears. When TJ checked their message thread at 7am this morning, although there were no messages, Cyrus had apparently been online only three hours prior.
Now, he collapses down next to TJ, buries his head in his arms and lets out a groan; it’s so guttural and desperate that TJ wouldn’t have thought Cyrus could make such a sound.
“You okay, muffin?” TJ asks gently, and Cyrus shakes his head.
“I was so busy studying for my Spanish final I forgot there was homework,” he mumbles, lifting his head up and looking miserably at TJ.
Now, TJ is never one to critique Cyrus’ appearance – as far as he’s concerned, he’s always beautiful – but right now, even TJ can’t deny that he looks absolutely dreadful. The circles under his eyes are so dark he looks as though he’s been in a fight, and came off a lot worse. His eyes themselves are glassy and unfocused, and his gaze seems vacantly fixed on a spot somewhere behind TJ, despite looking right at him. He’s made no effort with his hair, leaving it ruffled and hanging limply over his forehead, and his shirt isn’t even buttoned right. In fact, he’s not sure Cyrus has showered lately, as there’s a rather pungent aroma surrounding him. He unconsciously wrinkles his nose and realises that Cyrus must really be spiralling to forsake his usually impeccable level of personal hygiene.
“Did you get detention?” TJ asks nervously. Nothing puts Cyrus on edge more than getting in trouble with teachers, and that’s the last thing he needs right now.
Cyrus shakes his head. “She gave me an extension. I think she thought something was up.”
I wonder why, TJ thinks, wisely keeping his musings to himself. “Listen,” he says instead. “Everyone’s coming over to my place tonight – Buffy, Andi, Jonah, Marty – why don’t you come?”
“I can’t,” Cyrus says, shaking his head vehemently. “I have to – ”
“Study, I know,” TJ interjects, nodding. “But Cyrus, you’ve been working so hard all week, it’s not healthy to keep going as you have been.” Cyrus shrugs, apparently contemplating it. “Also we haven’t really hung out all week,” TJ adds, his voice gentler. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’m sorry,” Cyrus sighs. “I’ve missed you too.” He chews his lip for a moment. “Oh, screw it, I’ll come.”
TJ’s face lights up, having not really been expecting him to agree. “Do you want to stay the night? You can borrow some stuff if you don’t feel like going home.”
Cyrus seems to almost decline automatically, but then reconsiders. “Actually, that’d be really nice. Thanks, Teej.”
At the end of the day, the group meet up and walk home together, reciting various exaggerated anecdotes about their days. TJ keeps half an eye on Cyrus the whole way, vaguely concerned that he might pass out from pure sleep deprivation, but he seems okay – predictably subdued, but conscious enough to join with conversation and laugh at Marty’s story about his chemistry teacher setting a table on fire.
When they reach TJ’s house, he lets the others in, then pulls Cyrus back from the group to talk quietly to him.
“Hey, Cy, please don’t be embarrassed, but…” He hesitates, knowing that he’ll be mortified. “Do you want to take a shower?” Cyrus lowers his head, surreptitiously sniffs his upper arms and promptly flushes scarlet.
“Oh, god.”
“It’s okay,” TJ says hurriedly. “I don’t think anyone’s noticed.” Cyrus nods, unable to meet TJ’s eyes. “Seriously, don’t worry,” TJ adds gently. “You’re stressed, I get it.”
“Mm-hm,” Cyrus says, still bright red.
“Okay,” TJ says, taking charge, “you go to the bathroom, I’ll get you a towel and some pyjamas. Sound good?”
“Thanks,” he says in a small voice, and TJ leans forward to kiss his forehead. Cyrus manages a tight smile, before hurrying away and shutting himself firmly in the bathroom.
“Is he okay?” Andi asks, as Cyrus zips past her and Buffy.
“Just a little, ah, enforced self-care,” TJ says delicately, and she nods in understanding.
“Glad you’ve been able to talk some sense into him,” Buffy says, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve been telling him to slow down all week.”
“He wouldn’t hear of it,” Andi agrees, and TJ nods.
“Hopefully he’ll be able to relax a little tonight.” He clears a clatter from the kitchen and scowls. “Jonah, get out of my fridge!”
“But we’re hungry!” he protests from the next room; TJ rolls his eyes and goes to supervise, the girls in pursuit. He firmly shuts the refrigerator and points Jonah and Marty in the direction of the cookie jar, shaking his head in amusement as they pounce on it like they haven’t eaten in a week. After swiping one each for himself and Cyrus, then jogs up the stairs, chewing contentedly. He fetches a towel, some pyjama pants and a hoodie, then leaves them – along with the cookie – in a neat pile outside the bathroom, where he can hear the shower running.
He gets back downstairs to find the other four looking expectantly at him.
“What?” he asks suspiciously, and Jonah waves a Nintendo Switch controller hopefully at him. “Yes, you can play Mario Kart,” he chuckles.
“Okay, we were planning on doing a tournament,” Marty says excitedly.
“No, you and Buffy were planning that,” Andi says, folding her arms. “As if it wasn’t competitive enough.”
“I’ll play,” TJ says, “but Marty and Buffy aren’t allowed to compete against each other.”
“What?” they protest simultaneously. “Why?”
“Because you still owe my mom a lamp from last time.” They both look momentarily guilty, until Jonah calls from the basement to announce that he’s setting it up. They troop down, armed with the cookie jar, a few sharing bags of chips and a couple of bottles of Pepsi, and collapse onto the various couches and armchairs that face the television. TJ gives Jonah a withering look as he shoos him from his favourite spot – the end of the couch where the cushion extends forward, where he can put his feet up.
“I call first turn,” Marty says immediately, grabbing a controller. Jonah, Andi and TJ seize the other three, and Buffy scowls.
“Not fair,” she grumbles.
“Loser goes out?” Andi suggests, to general agreement.
To his disgust, Jonah loses, but as the race comes to an end, TJ spots Cyrus descending the basement stairs, so graciously passes his controller over to Buffy and opens an arm for Cyrus to settle in his lap and snuggle up to him. He looks considerably more relaxed, and TJ notices that his hair’s still a little damp as he leans against his chest. TJ smiles as he strokes his hair, relieved that Cyrus has calmed down and is apparently less stressed. He tilts his chin down to press a kiss to the top of his head, then they settle down to watch the intensely competitive race.
Presently TJ becomes aware that Cyrus’ breathing has slowed considerably. “Cyrus?” he murmurs, but there’s no response. When the current race ends, TJ nudges Buffy with his foot, as she’s the only one within reach. She spins around, and he points to Cyrus and mouths, Is he asleep? She nods with a smile, offers him a thumbs-up and mouths, Well done, back at him, before indicating to the others that they should quieten down, so as not to disturb him. Jonah retrieves the TV remote and lowers its volume, while Marty puts his controller down.
“I think I should probably stop playing if we need to be quieter,” he says, coming to sit next to TJ and Cyrus on the couch instead.
“Me too,” Buffy says reluctantly, and joins Marty, slipping a hand into his as he pulls up the NBA match on his phone so that they can watch it together, while Jonah and Andi keep playing, now considerably less intensely.
TJ’s attention flickers between the basketball match, humming in agreement whenever Marty or Buffy comments on a foul or something, and Cyrus, whose hair he hasn’t stopped stroking since he settled down. He’s absolutely sound asleep, not even stirring when TJ has to stifle a sneeze. TJ’s fairly certain that if he was capable, Cyrus would be purring. Eventually Andi and Jonah get bored and pull up armchairs to form a circle so they can chat, and play cards; all the while, Cyrus remains dead to the world.
One by one, the others admit that they have to get home: Buffy and Marty leave together, and Andi leaves shortly after. Jonah stays a little longer to hang out with TJ, but eventually he drapes a blanket over the two of them and says goodbye. TJ turns on the television quietly in the background until he feels Cyrus stirring, letting out a soft noise of sleepy complaint.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” TJ says with a smile. “Feel better?”
“What time is it?” Cyrus mumbles, burying his face in TJ’s chest.
“Just gone nine.”
“What?” he whimpers. “I’ve been asleep for nearly five hours?”
“Yup,” TJ says, as Cyrus turns over and rolls off TJ’s lap.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“We figured you needed it.”
“Wait,” Cyrus says, looking around. “Where are the others?”
“They went home, Cy,” TJ says with a chuckle. “Over an hour ago.”
“Oh,” Cyrus says, disappointed.
“They said they’d come back tomorrow,” TJ reassures him. “Hungry?” Cyrus nods, rubbing his eyes. TJ smiles and kisses him on the cheek, before standing and stretching with a grunt.
“Sorry,” says Cyrus with a rueful smile. “That can’t have been comfortable.”
“It was fine,” TJ says, smiling back and offering him a hand up, which Cyrus takes. “Just a very long time to be sat that still.”
“All the same, I can’t remember the last time I slept that well,” Cyrus admits, as he laces their fingers together and lets TJ lead him up the stairs.
“Well, we get to do it all over again in a few hours,” TJ grins. “Although, maybe it’d be a good idea to actually go to bed tonight?”
Cyrus offers him a sheepish smile. “Yeah, probably,” he says, pausing halfway to lean up for another kiss.