Impractical Jokers: [Joker]x[Joker] Collection

Keep Your Eyes One Me (Joe/Sal)

"Keep your eyes on me."

Sal's wheezing, overcome with panic as he shakes and quivers. His lover takes his face, holds it in palms that smooth over his skin and remind him that he's still alive. Heart thumping, blood rushing, and yet he feels as if he can breathe alittle easier.

The pools of blue that he gets so effortlessly lost in make his vision swim, his hands scrabbling desperately at Joe's forearms until Joe takes them in his own and holds them down by his sides to stop him from hurting him or himself.

"Breathe, okay? You're okay."

Sal heaves - almost vomits, and would have done if not for the germaphobia that has his vision blackening around the edges eating at his centre. Fear. Cold, hard fear. It's something that's all too familiar to the bespectacled Joker; the times his line of sight flickers, hazes over like static on a television and the air in the room becomes so stifling that he's gasping to taste the tang of oxygen in his lungs.

Hands on his face, ceasing the shaking of his head and forcing him to look at the other man.

"Joe," Sal rasps desperately, unable to say anything else as his core rattles and somersaults into oblivion. "Joe, God– help me–"

"Shh." Slowly, Gatto guides the man to sit and kneels in front of him, guiding his head to rest on his knees. "I'm here for ya, buddy. You just keep takin' big breaths and you'll be fine. C'mon, with me." And he's taking in huge gulps of air, holding it and then releasing it slowly. Sal does his best to copy, breaths stuttering and turning into hyperventilation, but eventually he manages to breathe easy enough to sit up straight.

Sweat coats his brow, his face, his arms and on the onslaught of another shake Vulcano reassigns his head back between his knees and chokes out a terrified sob. Carefully, oh-so gently, Joe strokes through his damp hair, holds him close and whispers words of encouragement. It's not the first time he's helped him through an attack, but it certainly didn't make it any easier. Knowing what to do and actually doing it were two different things.

Eventually, Sal finds the strength to look up and allows his lips to fight the trembling as a wobbly smile appears on his face as Joe wipes his face. Sweat coats the Joker's hands, the shine of it catching the light. Lips are pressed to his equally clammy forehead.

"You're doin' so good, Sal. Ya just keep focusin' on me, okay?"

Sal nods.

"I love ya, Sal."

"...love you..."

Exhausted, Sal all but collapses into the other man when his arms are coiled carefully around his body. He's still trembling, though it isn't nearly as bad. He needs a shower, badly, but he doesn't trust his legs to not give way beneath him so he stays, locked in the reassuring prison of his arms.

And hell, if he was able to stay enslaved forever for the sheer comfort of it, he would.

Because he may be horrified, terrified, so scared it takes his breath away, but Joe Gatto always makes it better.