Aaron T. x Aaron Z. - One-shots

Baby don't cut

Art credit:

tw: self harm/suicide
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3rd person POV:

Aaron Z. never questioned why his boyfriend always wore long sleeves on the hottest of days. The first time suspicion reared its head, he got a glimpse of a scar along T's arm as he wiped sweat from his forehead, sleeve sliding down.

"Ah, I was trying to feed a stray! It got a little scared," Aaron T. explained quickly, laughing nervously.

Seeing as the explanation wasn't unrealistic, Z hummed in response and took it.

The second time was when they were roughhousing as lovers do. Z pinned him down by the wrists. As expected, his sleeves had fallen away from his wrists. The jittery boy managed to push him off and yank his sleeves back into place, but it wasn't fast enough to stop the eyeful of jagged cuts Z observed. Now he was concerned.

There were a few other, insignificant, times in which excuses that he didn't believe anymore were used in place of a proper reason.

"Fell," "Cooking," "Animals," "Accident," But always followed by a guilty laugh.

Now he was determined to get to the bottom of the situation.

The third time was when Z finally got closure. A sleepover. He glanced over at the door as his boyfriend exited the bathroom, towel around his waist. Z said he was going to sleep but found his mind keeping occupied until the sound of water running halted. Scars, both old and new streaked down T's wrists

His eyes must have been so horrifyingly wide with shock because T noticed him awake quickly and deduced just as fast where his gaze fell. There was no way to excuse the words cut into his skin, depriving the boy of self-confidence. His arms are moved to be hidden behind his back and he took steps away from his boyfriend before he could read it. But Z is persistent, he stands and makes his way towards the other, fighting through some resistance until he fully sees the scars buried deep within his wrists.

"Why...?" He asked, feeling helpless to the pain his boyfriend feels, "How long have you been feeling like this? Why didn't you..."

Tell me? Get help? Stop? He wasn't sure which would fit best, so he just let his sentence cut off, trying to catch the younger boy's gaze.

"It's been a while, I guess I just needed better luck," T replies, a broken sound left throat as he stared pointedly at the floor.

"No." Shaking his head, Z repeated it once more for emphasis, not sure how to help the almost angry edge to his words, "No. Promise me you'll stop this. T- hey look at me- T, promise me you'll never cut again."

Said boy, eyes wide and brimmed with tears, stared at Z now. He shakily answered, "I promise."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, he embraced his boy tightly, as if he would lose him tomorrow.

-

That next day at school T felt better than the day before, he even cracked a couple smiles to his friends as he walked to class, shooting small waves to them. He told himself it would be a good day today.

It seemed that the universe had other plans though. He walked into class and, though it was supposed to be friendly banter, his anxiety and self-deprecation ridden mind registered the laughter and gestures towards his person as ill-meaning and snarky. He dropped his books and ran out of the room, his tears already heavily falling and hitting the pavement like raindrops.

'I can't take this anymore,' he wailed in his mind. He couldn't help but think of Z at this moment, and he reasoned that Z was only nice to him only out of pity. He didn't really love him, he was only pretending because he thought he was fragile and weak and sensitive.

"I am," He told himself, "I'm too worthless and weak for him. He deserves so much better than me. But I still love him."

Pulling out his phone he sent a text to declare that much, "Z, I love you with my body heart and soul to death <3"

Z, sitting in his classroom with no indication that T was feeling upset, responded: "I love you too <3"

How was he supposed to know that 'death' was meant literally?

Leaving his door unlocked and everything, T ran into his bathroom, thinking about the promise that he had made to Z. He cut at the now-exposed skin of his wrists. One, two, three, four cuts. The blood dripped on the floor in startling amounts, T's vision blurred quickly as he stared at the deep lacerations.

Back at the school, Z began to feel uneasy. He hadn't passed T in the hall like he usually did. They always met up in between classes. That, and the random text from the boy, set off an alarm in his mind. Running out of the school before anybody could stop him, Z rushed to T's house.

The front door was open, increasing his heartbeat by two times its normal rate. He stormed into the bathroom, ignoring the inquisitive calls from T's mom on the upper level of the house, feeling sick and panicked.

T, looking smaller and weaker than ever, laid in a puddle of his own blood in the middle of the bathroom floor. He yells out his name, trying to lean him up against the bathtub quickly. He feels his whole world just took a hit from a big avalanche, he screamed out to the other occupant of the house, "Call an ambulance!"

He can't help the feelings of anger as he sat beside T in the ambulance, he felt like somebody had brought this on, had made him commit this heinous act.

"Why the hell didn't you stop?" He asked the lifeless-looking body in a defeated tone, watching T's eyes roll as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

When they got to the hospital Z was kept in the waiting room as the paramedics rushed T into the emergency room, still trying to stop the bleeding. He'd already lost so much...

An hour later there Z still sat, leg bouncing and tears drying on his cheeks. No more tears would come forth. He wasn't a religious man, but he would be lying if he didn't pray to whatever divine being may have existed to just let him see his boyfriend at least one more time to tell him just how much he's loved.

Bloodshot eyes fixed themselves on the doctor who approached him, he stood up, followed by his boyfriend's mother. With a sour face, the doctor pulls them over to the side, "I apologize for what I'm about to say."

Z's throat constricts and his knees almost knock together from the uncharacteristic shaking of his entire being, dreading the five words that would leave the doctor's mouth.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

That was it, he collapsed to the ground, shoulders shaking and breathing labored. Others in the waiting room looked on, their own hearts breaking for the just-as-broken man. His whole world just crashed down around him. A mantra of 'It's my fault. I should have done more' plagued his mind.

T's mom, looking lost and hurt at the sudden loss of her son, put a hand on Z's shoulder as he stared at the floor, saying in between pathetic hiccups that he'd hate himself for later,

"I thought you made a promise, you would never cut."

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this was depressing as fuck-

have a good day! <3