Work Text:
Part 1: Safe Spaces
You'd've thought that Schlatt would've gotten used to the exhaustive pattern by now, the same arrangement that came with staying at an Airbnb with Ted for a video or Chuckle Week.
But he hadn't. In fact, Schlatt hated it. He hated everything about being in an unfamiliar place that wasn’t designed for him. Ted always tried to make it seem like a fun little adventure, trying to keep his mood up, but none of that ever really worked with Schlatt. The second they stepped through the door, the weight of all the little things that weren’t right started to pile up. This Airbnb was no different.
It started with the couch. The moment Schlatt sat down, he scowled. “It’s too small,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. The cushions were too firm, and the fabric was rough against his skin. Ted, ever optimistic, rolled his eyes and smiled: "You’ll get used to it, big guy. Just needs a little breaking in.”
But Schlatt could feel the tension rising in his chest. It wasn’t just the couch. The lighting was weird, too bright in some places, and too dim in others. The smell in the air was off—cleaner, maybe, or the faint must of a space that had housed too many strangers before them. Schlatt could feel it all pressing down on him, creeping under his skin, making him want to leave for the comfort of his own home.
And then there was the bed. The bedding was scratchy. Schlatt ran his hands over the sheets, his fingers curling in irritation at the stiff, unfamiliar texture. “These sheets suck,” he said flatly, as Ted started unpacking their bags. Ted glanced over, already aware that Schlatt was edging into a bad space.
“I brought that blanket you like, though. And a nice pillow. Do you want me to set those up? Might make it more comfortable.”
Schlatt nodded, but his mood was souring fast.
“Why can’t they just use normal sheets? It’s like… hotels and these places, they all have the worst stuff.” He kicked off his shoes and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the mattress dip too much under his weight. Another strike against this place.
Ted, patient as always, set up the bed with Schlatt’s things, making sure the blanket was neatly in place. He placed Schlatt’s pillow just how he liked it, too. As much as they liked to joke about it sometimes, he knew how much being in an unfamiliar environment threw Schlatt off. He’d seen it a dozen times by now—how the discomfort would slowly chip away at him until it tipped him into a meltdown.
Schlatt tried to make himself comfortable, curling up under his blanket, but he was already too tense. The hum of the fridge in the kitchen was too loud. The sofa looked wrong from where he lay. And it didn’t matter that Ted was next to him, smiling softly as he tucked him in—nothing about this place felt like home. Schlatt’s breathing quickened, his fingers clutching at the blanket in frustration.
“Hey, buddy,” Ted said, sitting down beside him. “You’re feeling it again, huh?”
Schlatt bit the inside of his cheek. He hated feeling like this—so out of place, so uncomfortable. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “It’s just… everything. This place sucks, man.”
Ted rubbed his shoulder gently, a touch that Schlatt leaned into despite his frustration. “I know it’s not home,” Ted said, his voice calm. “But we’ll only be here for a few days. You got your headphones, right? Let me grab them for you.”
Schlatt nodded again, grateful even if it didn’t take away the knot of anxiety that was building inside him. Ted handed him his noise-cancelling headphones, and Schlatt slipped them on, the world quieting down just a fraction. It helped, but only just.
Ted crouched down beside the bed, his head resting not far from Schlatts, “I know it’s not perfect. I wish I could make it better.”
Schlatt sighed, fidgeting under the blanket. “It’s not your fault. It’s just… this place feels wrong. Everything’s wrong.”
Ted nodded, he knew there wasn't much more he could do. “We can stay in for the night. No pressure to go anywhere. I’ll cook us dinner, and we’ll watch something on your laptop. You can make this bed your little bubble.”
Schlatt closed his eyes, letting himself imagine it for a moment. “Yeah… okay.”
And that was how it always ended up—Ted, patiently creating a comfy safe space in whatever odd AirBnB they found themselves in. Schlatt never really liked these trips, but he knew that as long as Ted was there, doing his best to make him feel safe. And for that, he would put up with it for "one last time."
Part 2: Strange Places
VidCon was supposed to be fun. That’s what Ted had told Schlatt when they first planned the trip. It would be a chance to meet fans, hang out with friends, and get up to some mischief. But as they stepped into the convention centre on the first day, Schlatt felt his stomach sink.
There were too many people.
The crowd was endless—voices blending into a constant hum of noise, lights flashing from all directions, and the sharp smell of food and sweat mixed in the air. Schlatt had tried to mentally prepare for it, knowing that conventions were always chaotic, but standing there in the middle of it all, the sheer sensory overload was hitting him hard.
Ted, walking next to him, noticed the way Schlatt’s shoulders tensed up, his usual easygoing demeanour already fading. He’d seen this before. The look Schlatt got when the world was pressing in on him too much. Ted moved a little closer, placing a gentle hand on Schlatt’s back, his voice low and calm. “You doing okay, bud?”
Schlatt nodded, though he didn’t feel okay. “Yeah, just… loud. It’s loud.”
Ted knew that was code for a lot more than just noise. Schlatt wasn’t great at explaining when things were too much. He tended to shut down before he could articulate it fully, and Ted didn’t want it to get to that point. “Let’s find somewhere quieter,” Ted suggested, guiding Schlatt away from the thickest part of the crowd and toward the edges of the convention centre, where there were fewer people and a little more space to breathe.
Schlatt let out a shaky breath as they reached a quieter hallway, leaning against the wall. “I hate this, man,” he muttered. “I hate how crowded it is. It’s like—I can’t even think straight.”
Ted stood beside him, not pushing, just letting Schlatt have the moment. “I know. It’s a lot,” he said softly. He’d learned over the years how to talk Schlatt down from these moments. “You don’t have to push through it if you don’t want to. We can take breaks whenever you need. We don’t have to do all the loud panels and meetups. Just the stuff you want.”
Schlatt shook his head, rubbing his face with his hands. “Nah, man, I don’t wanna be a buzzkill. Everyone’s expecting me to be there, and I—I don’t want to let anyone down.”
Ted’s heart twisted. He hated how Schlatt put that pressure on himself, always worried about disappointing people. “Hey, you’re not letting anyone down. You’re allowed to step away. It’s not about them, okay? It’s about you feeling comfortable.”
Schlatt didn’t respond, staring down at the floor, trying to regulate his breathing. He could still hear the crowd in the distance, and the vibration of the noise crawling under his skin. His hands itched with the need to fidget, but he didn’t have anything with him.
Ted saw the tension in Schlatt’s body language and reached into his backpack, pulling out a familiar object—one of his fidget toys. “Here,” Ted said, pressing it into Schlatt’s hand. “Something to focus on.”
Schlatt took it, his fingers immediately twisting the soft silicone, a much-needed distraction. “Thanks,” he mumbled, but his voice was still tight.
Ted moved to stand in front of him, blocking out some of the noise and movement from the rest of the hall. “We’ll just take it one thing at a time,” he said. “We’ll go see Charlie and the guys, hang out for a bit, and if it’s too much, we’ll head back to the hotel. We don’t have to do everything.”
Schlatt nodded, though the idea of skipping parts of VidCon still made him feel guilty. “I just hate that I can’t handle this stuff like everyone else,” he admitted quietly. “Everyone else is fine, they’re all hyped up and—and I’m here freaking out over the noise.”
Ted’s eyes softened. He stepped closer, resting his forehead against Schlatt’s. “Schlatt, you don’t have to handle it like everyone else. You don’t need to be fine with this stuff. You’re doing great just by being here. And I’m proud of you for even trying.”
Schlatt’s chest tightened at that. The way Ted always managed to make him feel okay about his limits, even when he couldn’t make peace with them himself. “Yeah,” Schlatt muttered, voice quieter now. “I guess.”
Ted leaned back, giving him space but still staying close. “How about this? I'll text Charlie to meet up with us in the quieter creator lounge for a while. No big crowds, just us. And if you’re still not feeling it, we’ll take a break.”
Schlatt considered it. The idea of a quieter space sounded better than diving back into the chaotic main floor. He wasn’t sure he’d last long, but maybe if it was just him, Ted, and a couple of their friends, it’d be bearable. “Okay,” he finally said. “Let’s try that.”
Ted smiled, giving him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “Alright big guy, We’ll make it easy. If you need anything, just let me know, alright?”
Schlatt nodded, gripping the fidget toy a little tighter as they made their way toward the creator lounge. He didn't know what he'd do without Ted.