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matt storms in, car keys clanging on the counter. he’s muttering under his breath, pacing, letting every ounce of frustration from the day escaping through his movements.
chriis sitting at the kitchen table, phone in hand, scrolling through some reels in rare silence.
he whips his head towards the door and gives matt a smile that doesn’t quite look right, but matt is too stressed to notice anyway.
matt simply just notes his brother’s presence, but soon feels burdened by it when he turns his head to look at the dishwasher: which is still full.
still full, when it should’ve been emptied by chris already. earlier today.
and before matt knows it, he’s flying off the handle at his stupid fucking lazy brother.
“chris, you idiot, the dishwasher,” he sighs, rage evident in his tone.
chris swivels his head to look at the full dishwasher, remembering that he was supposed to unload it.
and he completely forgot.
well, okay. not because he’s lazy or didn’t want to. honestly, he has a lot on his mind recently and id he’s being completely truthful, he did in fact forget.
all he remembers: he woke up at 12, felt like shit so decided to skip out on breakfast and went back to sleep, then somewhere between waking up and now he somehow made his way to the couch.
wait fuck, he needs to get back to reality. where matt’s yelling at him.
“matt—“ chris shakes his head as if to clear it.
“jesus christ, do you even listen sometimes?” matt snaps, voice sharp. “i swear, how hard is it to do literally anything right? you— fuck— i’m not even kidding, you make this shit infuriating!”
chris freezes. he wants to respond, to defend himself, to bite back, but his throat locks up, and the words just… don’t come. his hands tighten around his phone, knuckles white.
“hello?” matt says, voice rising, irritation creeping in. “you just gonna sit there? ignore me?”
chris turns his head quickly, eyes flicking down, trying to stop the heat behind his eyes from showing. a hot sting spreads behind his eyelids, and for a second, he can’t hold it. a tear slips. he swallows hard, blinking it away.
damn it, not now.
“chris! you fucking moron, answer me,” matt slams a hand down on the youngest triplet’s shoulder to turn him around. but what he sees makes him feel like he’s in a nightmare.
because usually he’d expect some bite back after snapping at chris, but what he doesn’t ever expect are tears. and that’s exactly what is on chris’ face right now.
matt stands and stares in disbelief.
he also feels a little sick to his stomach.
did he just make chris cry?
chris looks up at him briefly with teary blue eyes, turning his head back to avoid matt seeing his face.
matt snaps out of his trance quickly, “oh my god,” he mutters under his breath. “shit, chris, hey— i’m sorry,” he panics, pulling out the chair beside chris and taking him into a side hug.
“fuck,” chris laughs humourlessly through his tears, “sorry.”
“no, no, chris,” matt doesn’t know what to say for the next few seconds, but soon decides on, “i’m sorry.”
chris moves to stand up, “i’ll do it now, i forgot. ‘m sorry,” he says sincerely, but is held down by matt who has now successfully wrapped both arms around him.
“chris, don’t worry about it. i was a dick for getting so mad, i’m sorry,” matt apologizes, drawing soothing shapes into chris’ back. “i didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“no, it’s not your fault—“ chris sniffles, “you didn’t.”
matt almost gives him a look of ‘come on, really?’ but considers how off chris has been acting these past few weeks. he assumed it was maturity, or perhaps being burnt out, but looking at how hard he’s taking the words that matt would give him everyday, no problem?
it’s probably much worse.
matt pulls the younger closer, “what is it then?” he asks softly, moving a hand up to chris’ hair to run his fingers through it.
chris clings onto the middle triplet tighter, hands pawing at the back of matt’s hoodie to ground himself. any normal case scenario? he’d answer right away. what’s wrong? easy, simple.
but it’s not so simple, no. not easy at all. how can chris explain that he feels like hes drowning over nothing? that it’s been going on for so long because of how scared he is to tell nick or matt how sad he is for no reason at all?
so he just buries his face deeper into matt’s neck, relishing in the comfort he didn’t know he needed.
“okay, it’s okay,” matt whispers, “do we wanna move to the couch?”
they immediately shift over to said couch when chris nods.
matt leans back first, pulling chris into his side and letting themselves practically fuse into one another.
he finds it crazy that just a few moments ago, he was furious at chris. but now, he doesn’t even remember what made him mad today. he can barely feel any fury from when he initially saw the still-jam-packed dishwasher.
all he feels is like he has to get to the bottom of whatever the hell is going on with chris, because clearly, it’s hurt him enough to make him cry.
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“—and it’s just been sad. i don’t know why.”
matt nods at chris’ words, feeling his brown locks brush against his face.
“why didn’t you say anything?” matt asks gently, arm still around his brother.
“it makes no,” chris pauses to sniffle again, “—makes no sense.”
“it does to me.”
chris simply nestles closer in response.
because maybe there is no way to describe how he’s feeling, but to be understood is enough.
even if it took some yelling and tears.