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It's late. Matt is watching Withnail & I for the first time. Jay is asleep on his chest, face turned toward the back of the couch, one arm trailing to the floor. Matt likes the movie. He likes the bond between the two protagonists— likes how close the I character stands to Withnail, how they're constantly at each other's throats but never leave each other.
But then, midway through the movie, Withnail's uncle Monty starts advancing on I, and Matt finds it hard to breathe. The tension had been building for a few scenes—Monty boxing I in, making unwanted attempts at seduction— and Matt could feel the knot in his chest getting tighter and tighter. Now, Matt watches in mute horror as Monty opens the door to I's room and looms over his bed. Matt instinctively squeezes Jay where he holds him around his upper back. His face is buried in Jay's hair, peeking through the dark fringe to watch the scene.
The closer Monty gets to I, the tighter Matt holds. I is vulnerable, in nothing but his briefs. He tries to escape out the door, but Monty beats him to the exit. I jumps over the bed, gets cornered, and can only stare in terror as Monty closes in and starts to undo his robe.
Matt's breath is coming in stuttery and too-fast. The scene starts to blur through the tears in his eyes. He's squeezing Jay mercilessly, hard enough to rouse him.
"Hmm?" Jay shifts, just barely coming to. The fucker could sleep through anything. "Wha'izzit?"
Matt's hugging Jay impossible close, nose buried in his hair. He can't tear his eyes from the screen. He sucks in a deep breath and holds it there.
"Breathe, Matt," Jay reminds him in a mumble, eyes still closed.
Matt doesn't let the breath out so much as it escapes from him, shaky and accompanied by a sob. "Can you say the thing again?" he croaks.
Matt can feel the note Jay hums into his chest. "You're safe, MJ. You're in control. I'm right here."
I's frantic lying has Monty backing off. Matt squeezes his eyes shut. "Again?"
"You're safe. You're in control. I'm right here."
The scene changes. Withnail and I are snipping at each other now. I is furious. Withnail doesn't give a shit. Matt lays there and breathes for a few moments.
"You're safe, MJ." Jay repeats in a murmur, graciously, angelically, before Matt can even ask again.
Jay readjusts a little on Matt's chest, and Matt savors how warm and solid he is. He's safe. Of course he is. Jay is here. He starts to feel a little better.
"Sleep in my bed tonight," Jay mumbles, and even though his voice is so thick with sleep he probably doesn't even count as awake right now, Matt can tell that it's an order rather than an offer.
Matt nods into Jay's hair. He doesn't trust his voice but he says, "Thanks, Birdie," anyway and it cracks on a whisper. He gives Jay a final squeeze before slowly starting to relax his vice grip.
"Course, MJ," Jay's reply is barely intelligible, but Matt hears it anyway.
He cups one hand on the side of Jay's head and presses his lips to the other. He'll be okay. Jay's got him.