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Nino’s hands were shaking as he climbed the stairs to his apartment.
Adrien was home already. He’d texted that he’d started dinner. These were good things, objectively. Things that should make Nino happy and excited. But dread was bubbling up in his stomach and he was doing everything he could to shove it back down.
He loved Adrien. Nino loved him more than anything. A month ago, when the apartment was new and they’d only just moved in, he’d been practically running home every day to see him. But lately his feet had felt heavy, because home meant noise. Adrien liked to talk. He liked to cook. He liked to watch a show. He liked to have all the lights on and the windows open and a candle burning.
And those were good things! Obviously! But it was just… a lot sometimes.
Before they’d moved in together, Nino had quite enjoyed sitting in the quiet with his headphones on. Maybe even keep the lights off, or just only one or two lamps on. He’d sit and maybe text Adrien for a bit before they’d have a date night or a phone call or play video games.
And he hated himself for wanting time away from Adrien. Adrien was his boyfriend, who he loved and appreciated so much, who he should be happy to come home to and talk to and see more of! He should love their life together! He was certain that if he just gritted his teeth a little longer he’d get used to it. He was supposed to be happier than ever. He just… couldn’t quite find that bliss right now.
Which made him awful. A total piece of work. Terrible and cruel and selfish. So he was going to be fine because he loved Adrien and that was all that mattered.
Nino let himself have one deep breath outside their apartment, just one moment of hesitation, before he shoved the feelings down and turned his key in the lock.
“Nino!” Adrien said instantly, bright smile on his face. He was in the kitchen, all the lights on so he could cook.
“Hey, babe.” Nino smiled, because he loved Adrien and his toothy grin. And he was happy, and this is what he was supposed to be feeling all the time. Nino dropped his things at the door, keys hanging on the hooks Adrien had installed for them and backpack left on the ground below. “How’s it going?”
“Good! I finished my lab early today and figured I’d just get a head start on dinner. You hungry?”
Nino should be. He felt nauseous, like his stomach had turned in on itself. “Yeah,” he lied, because he shouldn’t be anxious. He should be calm and he should be hungry. “Thanks for cooking.”
“Of course. Hey, did I tell you Nathalie went on a date last night?” Adrien turned his attention back to the pan in front of him, talking a mile a minute.
This was usually what happened when Nino came home. So much to hear and see all at once. He swallowed back the lump in his throat. He wanted to hear Adrien’s story, really! He did! He should be happy. He forced a smile. “Did she really?”
“Yes! I stopped by the office this morning and got to meet the date. She’s gorgeous.”
“Should I be jealous?” Nino teased.
Adrien rolled his eyes, still smiling. “Well, she’s perfect for Nathalie, anyway.” His attention was still on dinner, his gaze not even really on Nino anymore, though he was still engrossed in sharing the details of his story. “I didn’t realize she was the date at first. Nathalie isn’t one for details about her personal life.”
Nino sat down on the couch. Their apartment was open plan and it didn’t put him all that far away. He appreciated Adrien’s split attention because it took the pressure off acting perfectly normal. He was still fighting back the panic he could feel behind his ribs. Which was stupid. He loved Adrien. “Why was she at the office then?”
“They’re coworkers! And Nathalie never mentioned having a thing for her before!” Adrien let out a laugh. “Which, I mean, is just like her. But this woman was so nice!”
Logically, Nino knew Adrien wasn’t shouting, but he sounded so loud. His voice was sharp and piercing right through his skull. The sound of the water boiling, the knife against the cutting board, every footstep Adrien took; why was it all so loud? Nino wanted to scream. Shut up, be quiet, just stop!
He couldn’t. He loved Adrien. He felt like his skull was squeezing his brain too tight.
“I guess she works in fashion,” Adrien continued from the kitchen, too loud, too fast, “and they’d met a couple years back, but she finally got Nathalie to go out for dinner and they’re just so perfect together.”
“Mm-hm,” Nino forced out. The lights were brighter, Adrien’s voice sharper. His own jeans were too small all of a sudden. The cuffs of his sleeves were cutting into his wrists. He squeezed his hands into fists, tight enough his nails dug into his palms and started to hurt. It sort of curbed the urge to burst into tears.
“I’ve never seen Nathalie smile so much! I mean, have you seen her smile ever?”
A pause. Adrien was waiting. Nino was supposed to say something. He could barely string two words together. “I don’t know.”
The chopping paused. Blissful. But Nino felt Adrien’s eyes on him.
He couldn’t move to look. He might just explode, or collapse, or something. Something bad would happen.
“Beau? You okay?”
“Yep!” Nino said, and he knew it came out way too sharp. “All good.”
“Are you mad?”
Nino shook his head. “No, babe, all good.”
“It just feels like maybe you’re mad at me.”
“No way!” Nino finally turned to look. Adrien was frowning. He still had the knife in his hand, a towel over his shoulder; but cooking had completely ground to a halt. “Babe,” Nino said, “no, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Because nothing was wrong, and they lived together, and it was good! It had to be good!
“You’re lying,” Adrien said, brow furrowing.
Nino was hurting him. Hurting his boyfriend who he loved more than anything. All because, what, he couldn’t listen to a story while the love of his life cooked him dinner? “I’m- I’m awful,” he said, and he broke into sobs. He was the worst boyfriend ever, officially, because he should be so happy right now and he was crying instead.
“Baby,” Adrien said, suddenly so close. His voice was soft. The couch shifted with his weight, right next to Nino. “Hey, hey, what happened?”
“I don’t want to be annoyed!” Nino cried. “You’re not even being loud! I-I-“ he broke into a sob. He couldn’t even cry about being terrible because that wasn’t fair, either, because that was just begging for comfort and he didn’t deserve that. “I’m sorry.”
“Was I too loud?”
“No!” Nino said quickly. “No, baby, I love you, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t- shouldn’t even be crying about it!”
Adrien placed a gentle hand on Nino’s back. “Take a deep breath for me?”
Nino tried, and failed, crying too hard to manage to breathe really at all. Tried again. Failed again. And he just cried harder.
He couldn’t even breathe right anymore. He was the worst. He was making Adrien take care of his crying and, god, he was just awful. And he couldn’t stop crying.
And that stupid pot was still boiling!
Nino hunched forward, elbows on his knees and hands clamped over his ears. The cuffs of his sleeves were too tight, and he hated this stupid sweatshirt but he hadn’t done laundry so he wore it because he just sucked, and he could still hear that stupid water and Adrien was shifting next to him and just stop, please, please let it all stop for just a second.
“Where are your headphones?”
Nino flinched. He hated himself for flinching. He squeezed his eyes shut and he couldn’t form words anymore. Backpack. Backpack was the answer. All he could manage was to shake his head as he gasped for breath between sobs.
“You wore them this morning,” Adrien said, more of a statement than a question.
The couch shifted again. Fine. Good. Adrien deserved better than to have to deal with Nino right now. He rocked back and forth, slowly, fingers curled tight in his hair. Every footstep Adrien took pounded behind his eyes. The lights seared through his clamped-shut eyelids. His jeans itched and the seams scraped into his skin.
Nino cried more.
“Baby?” Adrien’s voice was barely a whisper; it still stabbed. It came from right in front of Nino. “It’s okay. Here, okay?”
Nino felt pressure on his hands and moved to push it away, please, enough, please stop, but then the pressure settled on his ears and it was familiar.
His headphones.
It got a little quieter.
Nino ducked his head down into his lap and wrapped his arms behind his head. Everything was too much. Stop, please, he just wanted it all to stop. He grabbed at the cuffs of his sleeves behind his head, pulling, wanting them looser but it just made it worse. His jeans hurt, and god, it was just- everything was terrible and he was supposed to be happy! He lived with his boyfriend! And he was miserable.
“Nino,” Adrien said, voice barely audible through the headphones now, “let’s take that off.”
What?
Gentle tugging joined Nino’s panicked hands. Pulling his sleeves down and over his hands.
Better. Good. Nino took in a gasping breath. He let the sweatshirt get pulled off his arms, up his torso, over his head. He was sitting up a little more now. He couldn’t find the strength to stay upright like this.
He rested his elbows on his knees and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, glasses shoved up onto his forehead. Too bright too loud too much everything. And he was awful for thinking it, awful for crying over the apartment he and Adrien had picked out, awful for snapping at his boyfriend, awful for wanting him to shut up at all.
Nino let out a whine as he rocked, trying to get comfortable, but nothing felt right. He pushed his hands against his eyes harder. It didn’t help.
Let it be calm, please, just for a second.
A pressure against his ankle. Nino flinched. And then he realized it’d been a hand, Adrien’s hand, and he cried harder. He was so sorry. He was terrible. He choked out sobs and hated himself all the more.
Adrien’s hand was back, softer, barely touching his foot. Nino didn’t flinch this time.
Adrien was here. They were at home. Nino could, sort of, realize he was freaking out.
He didn’t remember what he was supposed to do about it. What was he supposed to do? He just sucked, he was the worst, and he couldn’t stop crying. He hated himself for crying. He hated himself for making Adrien upset. He hated himself most for making Adrien have to take care of his freaking out. He was the worst boyfriend ever. Adrien should just break up with him and go and be happy with someone who wanted to come home to him, someone better than Nino. Anyone else. Nino was the worst.
“Beau?” Adrien’s voice. Muffled, but his.
That was familiar. That was nice. It was selfish to find it comforting.
Nino couldn’t form words to respond, and what would he say, anyway? How terrible he was? How sorry he was?
“I’m right here.” A promise, a hand against his foot; Adrien was here.
Nino didn’t deserve him.
“Can you look at me?”
Nino whined. No. Not light.
“Baby, hey, you’re okay. You’re okay with me.”
Nino rocked. He was a terrible boyfriend. He wanted to stop feeling.
“Can you count?”
What?
Adrien counted for him. “One, two, three, four,” slow, melodic, pitch rising; again, coming back down; and Nino knew this.
Nino was supposed to breathe.
He tried. To Adrien’s muffled count, he tried. Shaking and hiccuping, he tried to breathe slow, tried to count along. Adrien tapped the beat out, too, with a finger against Nino’s foot. And that was okay.
It forced Nino’s brain to slow down. That’s why he was supposed to count. With every measure he was able to breathe a little better, a little more in time with Adrien’s voice. He stopped shaking. The tears stopped.
Adrien was still there, steady and calm. Muffled voice, gentle fingers, but there. Like he always would be. Nino knew Adrien would always be there, and he let himself be comforted by that despite how selfish it felt, too.
He loved Adrien. He was allowed to enjoy having his boyfriend around. Calmer, Nino dared to pry his hands from his eyes. He even dared to open his eyes.
Adrien was there. Of course he was. Kneeling right in front of him, balled up sweatshirt in his lap, Adrien was there with a patient smile.
Tears welled up all over again. “I’m sorry,” Nino cried.
Adrien opened his arms.
Selfish, Nino dove into them. He curled up in Adrien’s lap on the floor and cried. But Adrien held him, and that was better.
Nino loved him so much.
“Just breathe, my love,” Adrien said, gentle, “that’s all. Just breathe.”
A shuddering breath in, a half-sob on the way out. Nino clung to Adrien’s shirt. Another gasp for air.
Adrien was breathing steady. Calm, slow, stable. Nino’s forehead was pressed against his chest and he could feel it.
It was nice.
Adrien held Nino tightly. Firm. It felt good, grounding, to have something holding him down. It helped his brain slow.
He felt stupid still.
“Babe, I’m so sorry.”
Adrien shushed him, gentle but stern. “Breathe. For me, please?”
“Okay,” Nino whispered. He resisted the urge to apologize again. He tried to just focusing on breathing, slow and steady. Adrien wasn’t counting anymore but Nino could still hear his voice in his head. He kept his fists tight on Adrien’s shirt and he breathed as calmly as he could manage.
He was sorry. He was awful. But Adrien was here. He was still here and he always would be.
Nino wasn’t sure how long it took for him to calm down. A few minutes, half an hour, he wasn’t sure. It was long enough that his hands had relaxed and let go of Adrien’s shirt. Long enough his back was starting to ache from the odd way he’d curled up in Adrien’s lap. He didn't dare move – he wanted to stay as close to Adrien as he could. And he could breathe on his own now. In for four, out for four. He had been working on this in therapy. He was supposed to do this before he lost it, so he didn’t lose it and freak out. He forgot.
But Adrien knew. Adrien remembered. Adrien helped him remember.
Nino pulled off his headphones so they could talk. He adjusted his glasses back to the right spot, even though he kept his eyes firmly closed for now. He didn’t want the light. He took a deep breath. He felt ready to talk. “When did I tell you about the breathing?”
“Maybe a few months ago?” Adrien said. His voice was soft. “I wish I’d remembered sooner. It seemed like it helped.”
“Yeah. It helps.”
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” Nino answered honestly. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“I got mad you were talking and cooking and making noise.”
“You got overstimulated.”
“I was mad at you,” Nino insisted, “even though that wasn’t fair.”
“You were anxious,” Adrien corrected. “Did you have a bad day?”
“I guess.” Nino could remember. A bad night’s sleep, forgetting his coffee at home, a hard exam, a busy shift at work after class; maybe it hadn’t been great.
“And you got overstimulated. Why didn't you tell me, or put on your headphones?”
“We’re supposed to be happy. I’m supposed to be happy. We live together!”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t put on your headphones sometimes, beau,” Adrien said. “I don’t mind. Not at all.”
“B-but we’re supposed to be living together.”
“Headphones don’t mean you moved out.”
“Why can’t I just be with you?”
“You had a long day. It’s okay, baby, really. It’s okay.”
“I’m supposed to be happy!”
“You can’t be happy if you’re giving yourself panic attacks trying to listen to my stories.”
What?
Well, wait. Maybe that was what happened. Nino hated himself even more. “I’m sorry.”
“You just were overstimulated. It’s okay. Now we know for next time.”
“I shouldn’t have to block you out. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Adrien’s voice was so warm and genuine, “and I love you enough to know that you sometimes need to be alone and have some quiet, and that’s okay.”
“R-really?”
“Of course it is. I want you to be happy more than anything.”
“You make me happy. You should always make me happy b-but- I just- it was so loud in here,” Nino cried.
“Then it’s okay to put on your headphones. I promise.”
Nino curled in closer to Adrien. “You don’t hate me?”
“Never.”
“Even though I made you stop dinner?”
“What? Nino, no, I don’t care about that. I care about you being okay.”
“I’m okay.” It was instinct to say it, the words out of his mouth before he knew he was saying them. Nino took care of Adrien. Nino soothed his worries.
“Baby, you’re not. You had a panic attack.”
“I… I don’t know.”
Adrien held Nino tighter. “I don’t want you to be having panic attacks at home.”
“I’m sorry I made you worry.”
“Please tell me?” Adrien asked. “When you’re having a bad day or not feeling good, please tell me? I want to help you.”
“I’ll try,” Nino said. “I don’t like making you do all this for me.”
“You didn’t make me. I want to.”
And Adrien spoke with so much confidence that Nino couldn’t do anything but believe him. “I’m sorry.”
“No more of that. You don’t need to be sorry.”
“I feel like an awful boyfriend.”
“You’re perfect,” Adrien said. He pressed a kiss against the top of Nino’s head. “I love you so much. You’re the perfect boyfriend.”
“I can’t stop feeling awful,” Nino admitted. “Why can’t I just be happy here? I should be happy with you.”
“You’re too anxious to think. Your brain is being silly.”
Nino whined. Maybe it was true. He still felt terrible.
“What would you have done today if I wasn’t here when you got home?” Adrien asked. “If I had plans and I wasn’t here?”
Nino forced his brain to work, even though it felt like his skull was filled with sludge. “I don’t know. Maybe just… lay down? Listen to some music?”
“Anything else that would be different?”
“I don’t turn the lights on,” Nino pointed out. “You do. And it’s fine!” he added quickly. He didn’t want to be accusing Adrien of making things worse.
“Is it fine, though?”
“Well… it’s kinda bright,” Nino admitted. “It’s just, like, one too many things.”
“Yeah. I get it. Would you change clothes, too?”
“Probably. I hate that sweatshirt. And I wouldn’t wanna wear jeans if I laid down.”
“Sure. No one would.”
“And I’d wanna text you eventually. I would miss you too much. I’d wanna cuddle.”
“You can have cuddles whenever you want them,” Adrien promised, giving Nino a squeeze.
“Thank you.”
They fell quiet. Nino let himself enjoy it. The water was still boiling on the stove, but it didn’t make him want to knock the pot over anymore. The noise of the city through open windows was comforting and familiar. He wished he could feel like this all the time.
Adrien broke the silence with a gentle voice. “What if,” he said slowly, “and this is not you making me do anything, but what if I had a bath ready for you when you come home? You could put on your headphones and shut the door as long as you want, and I can put some pajamas in the dryer for you for when you get out.”
It sounded like heaven. “But… you’re so busy already.”
“I want to,” Adrien said. “Would it be nice?”
“Yeah,” Nino admitted. “But, babe, I can run a bath.”
“But I want to do it for you,” Adrien countered gently. “Could I tomorrow? You can come home with your headphones on and just go right into the bath.”
Nino knew it wasn’t selfish to want that. Some part of him knew that’s what people did for each other. He’d do a thousand times more for Adrien in a heartbeat without a second thought. “I’m bad at letting people help me,” Nino said.
“Yeah. I know it’s hard. But I want to, I promise. I love you so much. I want to spoil you.”
Nino knew the feeling. He let himself relax into Adrien. “Okay,” he said. “Yes, please. It would be really nice.”
“It’ll be the most relaxing bath you’ve ever had, just you wait.”
Nino smiled. Adrien would make it happen, no doubt.
“What if we have, like, a code word for when you’re feeling overstimulated and you need some quiet?” Adrien suggested. “You could just text me on your way home and I’ll know you had a big day and I should save my stories for another day, and I can have a bath ready.”
“I don’t want to be mean.”
“It’s not mean. You can just tell me you’re feeling anxious and overwhelmed. Or, I don’t know, send me an emoji. You don’t have to say anything else. I’ll know you had a bad day, and you can have some time to decompress when you get home.”
“That would be nice,” Nino whispered, afraid to ask for it. “It just makes me feel selfish.”
“You’re taking care of yourself. Not selfish.”
Right. Nino couldn’t help anyone else if he was a crying mess over the smallest noise. “Okay. Maybe just, like, a turtle. I wanna hide in my shell.”
“Perfect. You send me a turtle and you’ll come home to a nice quiet bath. Promise.”
“What if you had a bad day, too, though?”
“Baby, please let me do this for you? Please? I don’t want to make you worry even more. You just text me, and don’t feel bad about it as best you can, and if I really can’t do it I’ll tell you. But I want to. I can’t imagine anything bad enough happening that I couldn’t at least run a bath and let you sit in it.”
Nino sniffed. “What if you’re having a migraine?”
“Then we can both enjoy keeping the lights off. I’ll lay on the floor in the bathroom. The tiles stay nice and cold.”
Nino laughed – he couldn’t help it. “You’re so dumb.”
“But you love me.”
“More than the whole world. I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“I should’ve just told you all this ages ago. Before it got this bad. I just wanted to be happy with you.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m not mad.”
Nino believed everything Adrien said, always. Adrien never lied to him, for one, but mostly Nino believed him because Adrien spoke with a self-assured confidence that made it impossible not to. Adrien said he wasn’t mad and he meant it. Adrien said he loved him and he meant it. No shoe waiting to drop. Adrien finished his sentences. “Thank you,” Nino said. “I love you.”
“I love you too, beau, more than anything.”