Twitter ficlets

I got you

post-panic attack/stressful event cuddles (1)

Scott jolts as Mitch places a hand on his knee. "Sorry," Mitch says quietly, tugging gently at one of his shoes, "just wanted to get these off you."

Scott leans his weight back into the sofa cushions, lifting his feet in turn to help, before opening his eyes and taking a deep breath. He exhales slowly and shakily through his mouth.

"How you doing sweetheart?"

"Better. Fuck, that was horrible." His voice is croaky, dry, like it's first thing in the morning.

Mitch reaches for the bottle of water he grabbed from the fridge when they first came in, takes the cap off and raises it to Scott's lips, cupping the side of his chin with his other hand to tilt his head up.

"Here, sip."

Scott's arms stay limply by his side as he swallows the water, his eyes slipping shut again. He's clearly in no state to be going anywhere soon. An almost imperceptible shake of the head tells Mitch he's done with the water, so he caps the bottle and sits down next to Scott, placing the bottle on the floor within easy reach.

"Okay, come here," Mitch says, guiding Scott's head down into to his lap by his shoulders. Scott's stiff, jerky in his movements, but lays down, tucking his feet up on the sofa behind him as he lets out another shaky breath. "Okay babe, I got you," Mitch murmurs, curving an arm around Scott's torso, palm flat against his chest.

Mitch cards the fingers of his free hand slowly through Scott's hair, pressing his fingertips firmly against his scalp, feeling Scott gradually relax against him. His breaths even out into the soft puffs of sleep just as Mitch's left leg starts to go numb. Mitch shifts his position just slightly, feeling the tingle of pins and needles as his circulation reasserts itself. Scott doesn't stir.

"I've always got you."