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“She’s okay.”
Damien steps into his apartment and sets down the big black carrier cage containing Freyja, his poor little kitty who’s been at the vet for the past 72 hours. He stayed with her every moment he could, watching doctors poke and prod her all over until they figured out a diagnosis and handed him a prescription sheet with a little bottle of pills. Shayne’s been staying at Damien's place with Zelda the whole time, waiting on standby in case the vets suspected anything environmental that might mean a trip to the doctor for her too.
It’s a few minutes to midnight now and considering the amount of stress he’s been under, Damien is more than ready to pass out and sleep for a solid day or two. He opens the carrier and immediately scoops Freyja up into his arms, holding her close and smiling tiredly over at Shayne.
"Thank god. I was so worried for you, man, you have no idea." Shayne slaps a hand over his heart, leaning back into the couch in relief.
“Yeah, me too. Thanks for helping me out, Shanyé. You’re a good egg.”
“No problem. Did they find out what’s going on?” Shayne walks over to grab the carrier and move it back to its home in the back corner of the room. Damien tosses him a grateful look, rubbing his knuckles gently over the top of Freyja's head. She isn't purring like she usually would, but it's probably nothing; just nerves from the car ride or something. Damien keeps petting her anyway, trying to convince his mind that it doesn't bother him.
“Yeah, looks like our first guess was right. It isn’t terminal or anything, she’s just gonna be on some pills for the next little while. Check-ins at home, regular screenings to make sure it doesn’t get worse…”
Freyja jumps from Damien’s arms and saunters off to her bed and suddenly, Damien doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He crosses his arms awkwardly and frowns, trying to keep the stress coursing through his veins off of his face for Shayne's sake.
“Well, that’s good news.” Shayne steps over to Damien, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Seriously, how are you holding up?”
“I’m okay.” Damien sniffles, hoping it isn't obvious that he's been trying not to cry for three days straight. He meets Shayne’s eyes and tries to smile at him. “I’m glad she’s gonna be okay, but man, these past few days have just been…”
“Hell?”
“Pure hell. At one point they didn’t know what was wrong and- man, I don’t even remember what was- they said the word 'cancer' and I just-”
"Oh my god." Shayne pulls Damien into a soft hug, rocking him slightly side to side. Damien really doesn’t want to cry right now, doesn’t want to put another ounce of stress on Shayne’s shoulders since he’s been so kind about watching Zelda for him, but he’s been holding this ball of pain in his chest for three days straight and it looks like it’s choosing now to come out.
He breathes as evenly as he can, trying and failing to blink back a tear to keep it from falling onto Shayne’s shirt.
“God, I’m so sorry, Damien. That must have been so terrifying, I can’t even imagine.” Shayne keeps holding him, tucking his head against Damien’s chest. His heart feels like it's pounding; Shayne must have been anxious about this too.
“Yeah, it was...it was real rough. Thank God that’s not what it was, but even the idea of it was just…” Damien knows his voice is still wobbly but he takes a deep breath and pulls back anyway, deciding he needs to let Shayne go home right now so he can cry for about an hour straight. He steps back a bit and forces a smile, faking an itchy contact lens as an excuse to wipe his cheek. “Really man, thank you so much for the help. I’ve got it from here though. Go, be free!”
Shayne crooks an eyebrow at him. “You sure you’re okay? You look…”
“Like shit?”
“Well, I was gonna say exhausted.”
“Who, me? Nooo, that’s ridiculous. I'm fresh as a daisy.” Damien opens the door for Shayne, watching him grab his keys off the counter and check his pockets for his phone.
“I mean it, man, please let me know if you need any more help. Anything at all.”
“Will do. Thanks, buddy.”
Damien shuts the door behind Shayne and drags himself over to the bedroom, not even bothering to turn on a light before flopping back onto the mattress and immediately breaking into a steady stream of tears. He covers his face with his hands and tries to breathe through it while his body cycles through all the emotions he’s felt over the past few days: terror at the word “cancer,” heartache over seeing his poor baby in pain, so much guilt around the worry that he should’ve brought her in sooner.
The poor girl doesn’t even know why he brought her there. She’ll be shunning him for the next few days, rightfully angry over all the pills and syringes she had to deal with through all this, and the thought that she blames him for it, thinks he just doesn’t care enough to protect her, breaks his heart.
“Uh…”
Damien startles at the unexpected voice, eyes darting over to Shayne where he stands in the doorway looking equal parts concerned and uncomfortable.
“Uh, Shayne, I-”
“Sorry man, I just left my charger in here, can I-?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course.”
Damien dries his face with the palms of his hands as quickly as possible and flicks on the lamp. He sits up on the edge of the mattress, pulling out his phone to blindly scroll through Twitter while Shayne walks around to the other side of the bed and bends down to grab his charger.
When he stands back up, his eyes are locked on Damien. He looks worried, eyebrows knit together like he's determined to speak but just isn't sure what he's supposed to say.
“Hey man, are you…?”
“I’m fine, Shayne. Just tired, okay?” Damien doesn’t even try to smile this time. He just stares up at Shayne with empty eyes, silently begging him to go.
“Yeah, yeah, of course. But do you, uh… Do you want another hug?”
God, he really, really does. The tears come back in a walloping wave of sad and Damien gives the tiniest nod, trying not to sob when Shayne sits next to him carefully, wrapping his arms around Damien and pretending not to notice his labored breathing. Damien rests his head on Shayne’s shoulder, fighting his insecurity at being seen like this and forcing himself to just let a friend hold him. It's okay to need support sometimes, he reminds himself, and tonight he needs this real fuckin' badly.
Shayne goes to pull back and Damien’s squeezing around him before he can stop himself, cringing hard at his own neediness. Shayne lets out a surprised chuckle and holds him tighter, pressing his cheek against the side of Damien’s head.
“God, Shayne, I’m sorry, I’m just so-”
“Tired, yeah, I got that.” Shayne’s rubbing slow circles over Damien’s shoulder blade and it feels so comforting that Damien worries he might fall asleep right here, right now.
“Reeeeally tired. Like, literally-nodding-off-as-we-speak tired.”
“Okay, well do you wanna...lie down?”
“You mean like-?” Damien pulls back in surprise and checks Shayne’s expression. He looks serious and calm, blinking back at Damien as if it’s a totally normal question to ask.
And actually, come to think of it, it is. It’s a simple question and the answer is yes, Damien absolutely wants to lie down. It’s not like they haven’t done this before, back when they lived together and one of them fell asleep in the middle of a game or a movie or something. Granted that was years ago, but so what?
God, he loves this man so much.
“Yeah. Yeah, if you don’t mind, I do.”
Damien scoots under the covers and quickly thinks through his options, eventually deciding to turn onto his side facing Shayne. Shayne turns off the lamp and snuggles in, pressing his back to Damien’s chest and letting all of his weight fall back against his friend.
The drowsy oxytocin hits immediately, just like it used to on those late nights at their old place. It spreads through his system like chicken soup on a snowy day and Damien smiles, lazily winding an arm around Shayne’s body and lacing their fingers together.
Shayne tucks their hands against his chest and squeezes. He’s so warm, always so completely accepting. People call Damien a teddy bear all the time, and maybe they have a point, but he’s always secretly thought that if either of the two of them had true teddy bear energy, it was Shayne. He’s just so damn squeezable, perfect for tucking into your chest. It's better than melatonin or Ativan, that's for sure.
Damien traces his thumb along Shayne’s and tries to regulate his breathing. It’s easier to think like this. Logically, he knows Freyja won’t be mad at him for long. She had a rough few days, but everybody has bad days sometimes, even innocent little cats that don't deserve it. The important thing is that he loves her and she knows it.
Shayne squeezes Damien’s hand, whispering even though he knows he’s still awake.
“I can hear you worrying, man. Ya gotta stop that.”
“Hey,” Damien whispers back, “I have a diagnosed anxiety disorder. Worrying’s kinda my whole thing.”
“Okay, fair, but not tonight. Tonight you need to get some actual rest.”
Damien snorts. “Rest? What’s that?”
“Alright, look, bitch.” Shayne flips over and presses a hand against Damien’s chest, guiding him to lie flat on the mattress. He gives Damien an overly dramatic stern look before laying down and curling into his side, resting his head over Damien’s heart. Damien chuckles. He can feel the smile spreading across Shayne’s face as he nuzzles into his chest, bringing a hand up to rest on his sternum.
“Was that supposed to intimidate me?” Damien beams, wrapping his arms around Shayne loosely. He can feel his own heartbeat thumping against Shayne’s cheek, and it’s slowing down impressively fast. He wonders if Shayne can tell, if he can feel how much he genuinely is helping.
“No, it’s supposed to make you relax. Now shut up and sleep.”
“Wow, Shayne, so rude. And in my own apartment, no less.” Damien plays with the back of Shayne’s shirt, pinching a bit of the material and rolling it between his thumb and index finger. It’s surprisingly soft, because of course it is. Everything about Shayne is always softer than it looks.
Shayne scoots his hand up a little, letting it rest half on Damien’s shirt and half on the bare skin of his collarbone. It’s the only real skin-to-skin contact Damien has had with another human being in far too long and it warms him from the inside out, filling him head to toe with innocent affection. It feels like care, like healing, and he likes it so much that he doesn’t dare move an inch. He just lets his body relax, chest rising and falling in time with Shayne’s to pass the minutes until sleep comes.
They’ve been still for a few minutes when he feels Shayne’s whole body twitch on top of him, the sudden little jerk that happens when you catch yourself falling asleep. Damien holds him a little bit tighter, bringing a hand to the back of his neck and rubbing. Shayne makes the tiniest sigh imaginable and scoots down half an inch, bringing the very edge of his hair into contact with Damien’s hand.
Damien’s heart stutters. This is a first, but he’s absolutely thrilled by it. He slips his fingers into the hair at the base of Shayne’s neck and rubs as softly as he can, grinning at the way Shayne instantly relaxes beneath the touch. He smells like cheap shampoo and overpriced pomade and something about it feels so comforting. Feels like home.
He’s only been threading his fingers through Shayne's hair for two, maybe three minutes when he hears that familiar thick, low breathing that means Shayne has fallen asleep.
Damien keeps playing with his hair anyway. It’s actually a pretty good stim, all warm and feather-soft, and plus, he just loves the intimate touch so much. Shayne isn’t one to offer physical affection ever, really, especially not this much of it, and Damien almost wants to force himself to stay awake so he can drink in as much of it as possible. Although, hell, they’re gonna wake up in the same bed tomorrow anyway; he may as well let that exhaustion take over now and quench the rest of his cuddle thirst in the morning.
He lets his hand go lax against the back of Shayne’s head and clears his mind, focusing all of his attention on Shayne’s pressure on top of him, the slow, gentle wax and wane of their chests. He feels comfy-warm and drowsy and so damn loved. He lets his eyelids fall shut and within minutes, he’s drifting off to sleep.