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Gonta’s arms felt like they were made of liquid lead, heavy and dragging but unable to stay solid. His head pounded with color and noise. Every little voice, little shuffle of feet closer to him, made him want to scream and cry and hit himself on the head until the pressure building incessantly inside his skull released.
For an anthropologist, Gonta still wasn’t good at people .
To be fair, he signed up for a solitary job when he walked the career path of a prehistoric anthropologist. And though he’d graduated high school, college, and into the professional field, his ability to manage interaction with others wasn’t honed to as sharp a skill as he would’ve liked. Overwhelming Gonta was just such a simple task.
Sensory overload often meant he would get much less work done in a day. He trudged through the rest of the day, his head feeling like boiling soup and orbeez. After a quick meeting and long phone call he was on his own, but as he proofread a report, every word burned into his corneas and refused to move along to his brain. For the last hour or so before leaving, he sat and organized his already neat desk, because he couldn’t trust himself to get anything of use done.
Leaving work brough quick relief, followed by the utter nightmare of public transport on a bad day. The train platform was crowded with work-hour rush, and Gonta did his best to not space out on his ordinary routine and get lost. Noise pulsed and swelled around him. Putting one foot in front of the other was a considerable task. Each time he paused to think through his train route in his head, he felt nervous that he looked strange.
On the train, someone stood too close to him. They would’ve been of appropriate distance to anyone else, so Gonta didn’t dare bring it up, but he could feel the stranger’s presence weigh heavy in his space. Across the train car, he felt eyes on him; also a nearly ordinary occurrence, but today it was unbearable. His enormous height and build and curly hair and sharp suit drew attention to him whether he liked it or not. He couldn't just ask someone to stop looking out of genuine curiosity.
For the sake of his own head, Gonta spaced out most of the way home. He blinked hard upon stepping up to the door of his own apartment, not quite remembering when he had walked himself up there.
Korekiyo Shinguji, his long term boyfriend and favorite entomologist greeted him in their shared kitchen with a hug. Gonta couldn’t move his arms to hug back.
Kiyo looked up at him with concern. Gonta averted his eyes, focussing instead on Kiyo’s thin lips. He wore a thin layer of chapstick.
“Honeybee, are you alright?” he asked gently, separating from Gonta save for a comforting hand on the taller man’s forearm.
Gonta opened his mouth to speak and found his words clogged up at the base of his brain. With heavy hands, he crossed his middle and index fingers over one another and held it over his forehead; the couple’s own sign for sensory overload .
Immediately Kiyo nodded and took a step away from Gonta to allow him space to breathe. He held up three fingers, to which Gonta tapped the second-- nonverbal, but touch in certain spots is okay.
Kiyo smiled reassuringly and gestured to the bedroom. Gonta tried a comforting expression in return.
Gonta didn't hesitate to take off his heavy coat and slacks, handing them to Kiyo, who tossed them into the laundry basket. The entomologist dug out Gonta’s comfort sweatshirt- a thin garment made of worn, off-soft material- and handed it to him. He threw it on quickly, but forwent pants, as the wrinkles of fabric against his knees could get quite uncomfortable.
With a heavy sigh, Gonta flumped back onto the bed, then rolled onto his side. Kiyo sat beside him. He tenderly tucked a lock of Gonta’s hair behind his ear, then removed the anthropologist’s glasses. Finally, he nestled himself against Gonta’s chest, making himself into a little spoon for the man. Gonta made a small, contented little purr and wrapped his arms tight around Kiyo’s middle.
Maybe they could get takeout later, but for now, Kiyo was happy to share time with his boyfriend and help him clear his mind.