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Aoyagi's panicking.
The feeling is terrifying, similar to the instincts of a mouse that knows it's being hunted but can't do a thing about it. His skin is too tight, restricting, the heat sizzling through him scorching him from the inside out. He's shaking and dimly he's aware that his breathing is too quick, too shallow, and he's going to pass out, he can't escape from this.
He's weak.
They'll never make it to the top like this.
He's failed Junta.
The negative thoughts race through his head in circles like bicycles on a circuit.
He should stop laying on the ground and get up and help Junta, and then he realizes he's on the ground, sitting there with his bike and why was he here? It's his third year of training camp and he's focused on going to the Interhigh with Junta but it seems like he's over paced himself.
His thoughts run full circle again, his attention inevitably being drawn back to the panic running through his bones, making him squeeze his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the tears.
He can hear wheels approaching and when they stop he curls into himself even tighter. "Aoyagi-san, are you okay?" He hears Onoda's voice from somewhere far away, distorted, his mind playing tricks with him. Footsteps on the pavement come nearer and he can hear Naruko and Imaizumi murmuring to each other.
He doesn't need this right now, he looks terrible and he needs to be strong for the team, now that he's a third year. Bringing him back to the terrible thoughts running through his head about how the second years are so much stronger than him, so much more talented, better at so many things...
"Get away from him." Junta's voice rings out in startling clarity, cutting through the haze of thoughts. He hadn't even heard his bicycle approach.
Onoda immediately squeaks and apologizes, and the pressure of the second years presence slowly fades away as they get back on their bikes and ride off.
He feels Junta plop down beside him and draw him back against his chest. They sit there for a while, the warmth of Junta behind him comforting in comparison to the heat that runs through his own body.
Somewhere in his mind he realizes that his panicked breathing has slowed down, synchronizing with Junta's instead. He relaxes marginally, and like with every small thing he does, Junta doesn't miss it.
"You better?" He asks. Aoyagi gives a tiny nod, and he feels Junta smile against the back of his neck. "Good."
They spend a few more minutes there, indulging in the other's presence, and when Aoyagi makes to stand, Junta is there grasping his hand and helping him up.
Aoyagi stares at him for a moment, trying to convey everything he's feeling, I'm sorry and thank you and don't ever leave me please.
Junta leans forward, brushing away his bangs and planting a kiss on his forehead. "Of course." Then he turns and gets on his bike, gesturing for Aoyagi to do the same.
"Come on," he says, and smirks. "The second years aren't going to pass us this time."