Hi, I'm Denver or Denny for short!!! My blog is mainly Whump-related, but I also like dabbling in other things.
Here are some things I like and can write (if asked):
Medwhump!! It's my favorite!!!! Like it's an obsession...
Living Weapon Whump is also right up there next to Medwhump. I love when they are put together. *hint hint wink wink...*
Minor Whumpee WITH Parental Caretaker!!!! Whether that says something about my childhood or not doesn't matter.
Light smut is okay (for NON-Whump posts like my TimKon post.)
Ships: TimKon, BirdFlash, SuperBat, and probably more that I can't remember right now!
Things I personally don't write:
NSWF Whump is not something I am comfortable writing, at least not in heavy detail.
Whumpee x Caretaker in a romantic way. I prefer platonic or parental bonds between the two.
Female Whumpee! As a girl, I've gone through enough. I don't want to write about other girls suffering. (And maybe the TV is glowing blue, pink, and white. Just a little.)
As of right now (March 2026), I won't be writing any Whump that includes suicide attempts, and if it's ideation, then there will be very little of it.
ANYTHING WITH ANIMALS IS A NO!!! It makes me so sad!!
Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's it. My asks should be open until further notice. I can do prompts, one-shots, etc. I'm glad to get this out of the way. I've been needing to make an intro forever.
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Whumper calming Whumpee down when they're having a panic attack? Anyone? 🦋
Loosening their restraints and holding their hands.
Pulling the gag away from their mouth so they can drag in a proper breath because they're sobbing/hiccuping/hyperventilating.
Brutal hands that inflict so much pain turning soft - a hand carded through their hair, warm palm placed on Whumpee's heaving chest as they're asked to mimic Whumper's breathing. Wiping the tears away.
Offering a sip of water. Offering them praise like; "It's okay, deep breaths," "Not long now, whumpee", "You're being so good for me."
Girl who’s been in some form of captivity for an extended period of time in which her short hair grew out getting some relief of her trauma after escape/rescue by cutting it short again.
buffering
dick grayson x reader | fluff, suggestive
summary: aftercare with dick after a long night that leaves you a little out of it and him very smug (wc: 0.9k).
Dick says something, and you know this because his mouth moves, sound comes out, and he's looking at you with that patient little tilt of his head. The words themselves, however, fail to make it through the pleasant static filling your skull.
"Hm?" you manage.
"Do you want water?"
You blink at him. This time, the question filters through the haze in scrambled pieces, but you decide you’ve got the general idea and answer with complete sincerity.
"Tomorrow."
There’s a beat of silence, and Dick goes very still.
You frown. Something about his expression isn't right. He's staring at you with his mouth pressed shut and eyes wide, like he's holding something in. You can't figure out what, because your brain is still running at half speed and—
Dick breaks. He folds forward laughing, one hand braced on the mattress, the other covering his mouth, trying and failing to be kind about this. His shoulders shake helplessly, head dropping as the sound spills out of him bright and full and impossible not to love.
Then it clicks.
Oh no.
"No, because I meant yes," you say quickly. "I meant yes now. Right now."
"Right now?" he asks. "You sure? Don't want to sleep on it?"
“Stop,” you groan, covering your face with your hands.
He’s still laughing when he gently pulls them away, eyes shining.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he says. “I’m never letting that go.”
"That was a vulnerable moment for me."
"It was a historic moment for me."
You glare at him, but it isn't as intimidating as you think, because his grin only sharpens.
"Okay, okay," he says, holding up three fingers. "How many?"
You stare at him. "You're not serious."
"I asked you a yes or no question and you said tomorrow. I'm doing my due diligence.”
"Three, you absolute—"
"Good. What's your name?"
You tell him, flatly.
"What year is it?"
"The year I become single if you keep this up."
He ignores that completely. "Who's the mayor of Blüdhaven?"
You open your mouth, but pause for just a fraction too long.
Dick doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to.
"I know the answer," you insist. "I was going to say it."
"Sure you were."
"You did this to me." You point at him, accusatory. "This is your fault."
"I accept full responsibility." He bites down on his lip, voice strained with the effort of keeping a straight face. "I am genuinely so proud right now."
You exhale, sinking deeper into the mattress, and your exhaustion must show, because he quiets at once and his expression softens.
He leans in close enough that his breath brushes your cheek. “C’mere, beautiful.”
His hand slides behind your neck as he helps you sit up against him. The movement makes your limbs feel like wet sand, heavy and uncooperative.
"Easy," he murmurs.
He steadies you, one arm around your waist while the other reaches for the water bottle already waiting on the nightstand and brings it to your lips, and you drink obediently. The cold water hits your tongue and you actually sigh.
"There you go,” he says quietly, thumb brushing once at the base of your neck.
You hum, barely, and he presses a kiss to your temple. He reaches for the nightstand again and grabs a granola bar, unwrapping it and breaking off a piece before holding it up expectantly.
"I can feed myself."
"Can you?"
You open your mouth, and he places the bite on your tongue with a small smirk.
"That's what I thought," he says, but it's gentle.
You lightly flick at his bicep, and he only feeds you another piece.
The room glows amber from the bedside lamp. The sheets are tangled around your legs, the air still warm, the mattress dipping where he sits close beside you. Your body feels pleasantly overused, every muscle loose and humming.
Dick watches your face as you chew slowly, then swallow.
"Sore?" he asks, voice low.
You shake your head. "Just sleepy.”
He studies you for another second anyway, checking for anything you're not saying.
“You sure?”
"Promise," you reply with a little smile.
His expression eases. He sets the granola bar aside and shifts behind you, drawing you fully into him until your back rests against his chest. The blanket comes up around both of you, tucked under your arms with absent practice.
"Proud of you," he murmurs.
You huff out a laugh. "For what?"
"Persevering through adversity."
"You're unbearable."
"And yet," he says, "still your favorite."
You're too tired to deny it properly. His hand slips beneath the blanket to rest on your stomach, palm warm and grounding. The other traces slow shapes against your arm: circles, lines, little absent patterns that make your eyelids heavier by the second.
Beneath your ear, his heartbeat knocks steady and sure.
"You know," you mumble, words starting to slur, "if you tell anyone about this, I'll deny everything."
"Wouldn't dream of it. I'll just treasure the memory forever."
"That's somehow worse."
He tucks his head over yours, and you let your heavy lids fall over your eyes, body sinking deeper into him. His fingers keep moving soothingly over your skin.
Just before sleep takes you, he speaks into your hair.
"Tomorrow," he repeats fondly.
You groan weakly, and his soft laugh follows you under.
When Coop, Neela, and Romano get trapped in a stalled elevator, Neela panics and Coop’s asthma flares. The confined space amplifies stress and medical crises, forcing them to work together as an unsual team to keep each other —and Coop most literally— breathing.
Originally written for Whumbtober 2025 Day 7: Elevator. (Promps from multiple days were used.)
Part 3 of Case Report: ICU Management of Recurrent Status Asthmaticus in a Resident Physician
Words: 4,647, Chapters: 1/1, Language: Englisch
Fandoms: ER (TV 1994)
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen
Characters: Nick Cooper, Archie Morris, Robert Romano, Neela Rasgotra
Relationships: -
Additional Tags: Asthma, Severe Asthma Attack, Intubation, ICU, Panic Attacks, Phobias, Trapped with the Enemy, Elevator, Fainting, Medical Inaccuracies, Whump, Hurt/Comfort
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When Coop ends up as the patient—intubated, restrained, and out of sync with the ventilator—he’s not fighting it. He’s just trying not to suffocate while everyone assumes he’s being difficult. Exactly the ICU comeback he didn’t ask for, but somehow got anyway.
Written for Whumptober 2025, originally planned for Day 23.
Part 1 of Case Report: ICU Management of Recurrent Status Asthmaticus in a Resident Physician
Words: 959, Chapters: 1/1, Language: Englisch
Fandoms: ER (TV 1994)
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen
Characters: Dr. Nick Cooper, Dr. Archie Morris, Abby Lockhart
Relationships: -
Additional Tags: Medical Trauma, ICU, Intubation, Severe Asthma Attack, Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Anxiety, Internal Monologue, Angst, Whump, Whumptober, Medical Inaccuracies
I've been conjuring this up for a few days... Eat up!
CW: Restraints, Carewhumpee Vibes, Whipping?
Note: I promise Beau isn't evil. He's been in Levi's place before.
Levi's heart hammered in his chest, furious and fearful. Beau could feel it as he gripped the younger boy's wrist. He tried to ignore it. There was nothing he could do to stop what was coming.
Beau turned the corner and clenched his jaw as he led Levi to the door at the very end of the hall. He felt Levi plant his feet in the ground. Beau didn't want to fight him on this.
"Levi."
Levi was breathing fast now. He knew that he was in trouble, but being taken to that room was something else entirely.
Beau sighed again and pulled Levi's wrist a little harder, forcing him to walk with him. When they reached the door, Levi started shaking his head, trying to plead but no sound came out.
White walls and floors. All tile. At the far end, a pair of shackles hanging from the ceiling.
"I didn't... I'm not... Please-"
Beau stood in front of Levi and placed his hands on his shoulders, leaning down to look into his eyes.
"Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, okay?"
Levi's eyes remained on the shackles, but they flicked briefly to Beau's.
Beau knew that comforting him would be pointless. He was inconsolable in this state. There was nothing you could say to take that raw, cold panic out of someone's stomach.
"Take off your shirt."
Now Levi looked at Beau.
"Wait, I-"
"Levi."
Levi reached for his shirt but instead wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing up and down as his legs threatened to give out. He was wheezing, choking on his words.
"What is he going to do?"
"Levi."
"What is he going to do?" He repeated, louder.
"Levi. Stop. Look at me. Stop."
And Levi did, desperation filling his eyes. He looked so small and fragile and he was about to be tortured over a small mistake.
"Come on. Take off your shirt."
Levi shook his head, breath stuttering as he choked on sobs.
"Don't fight me. Please."
Levi let his arms fall and Beau lifted the hem of his shirt, pulling it off of him.
Beau watched the life drain from his face.
"What's he gonna do?" Levi whispered, and Beau could see the way that he was going blank. Desolation.
Beau led Levi to the end of the room and began slipping his wrists into the shackles.
"Don't fight him. Don't talk. Don't beg unless he tells you to." Beau squeezed his arm to try and bring him back. "Pick a spot on the floor and stare at it. Keep breathing. You'll probably pass out. Don't fight it."
Levi wanted to be gone. He wanted to slip into that place where he was nothing and nothing was everything. Where everything was quiet and foggy and numb. He wanted to be numb.
"Hey," Beau said, snapping his fingers in front of Levi's empty eyes. "Come on. Stay with me."
A choked sound came from the boys lips, and his eyes flickered slightly.
He put his hands on Levi's shoulders again, digging his thumbs in to try and ground him.
"Did you hear what I said?"
"Mhm." Too quick.
"Levi..." It was quieter this time. A plea. He grabbed Levi's jaw and made him meet his gaze.
"Hey, look at me. You are so brave," Beau said with a teary smile. "You're going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay."
Beau looked up as movement caught his eye. He could see them moving closer from the window in the door. He looked back at Levi, squeezing his shoulders again.
"Remember what I told you." He stood and began to walk off, and it was Levi made a completely 360.
The panic flooded back in, that primal need to survive and escape taking over.
"No, no- Beau-" he choked out. "Don't leave me! Please!" He pulled uselessly at the chains on his wrists. "He's gonna hurt me! Please!" Tears and saliva streamed down his face.
Beau froze at the door, turning back to look at him. He knew this was wrong. It was so, very wrong. But fighting would make it so much worse.
He opened the door and walked out, trying to drown out Levi's screams and pleas.
This is going to be a very specific trope, so I'm going to explain it before I write it. Okay so I saw a post about Team Leader and Medic adopting a kid together and immediately I was in love with it. Now, one of my favorite whump things is hemophobia, and I also love magic whump. I also happen to love trypanophobia. So... what if we combine all of that into one big juicy whump post? Like I love the parent caretakers. I love the magic. I love the medwhump. It's got something for everyone (minus a whumper). So I'm gonna write this soon. Be prepared.
A whump event set in August, run by @starryybrained
Write-up of prompts & rules under the cut
MAIN PROMPTS:
Day 1: resentment / infection / sinister
Day 2: electricity / dislocation / drugs
Day 3: lonely / paradise / cold
Day 4: shackles / support / stoic
Day 5: gunpoint / gristle / terror
Day 6: high / choking / charred
Day 7: needles / tense / smile
Day 8: angel / bite / mercy
Day 9: fresh meat / tragedy / selfish
Day 10: payback / beast / beating
Day 11: cpr / corrosive / coughing blood
Day 12: storm / stumbling / squirm
Day 13: cave in / catatonic / plane crash
Day 14: itch / skin / hooks
Day 15: hidden enemy / crime / body
Day 16: broken promise / flood / still waters
Day 17: chemicals / count / chronic condition
Day 18: flayed / knew it / shattered
Day 19: head trauma / wires / fuzzy
Day 20: training / jealousy / woozy
Day 21: sorrow / sanguine / system
Day 22: watching / bonded / resistance
Day 23: blanket / bold / crowbar
Day 24: draining / deadly / doomed
Day 25: twisted / aversion / crunch
Day 26: listless / misstep / remember
Day 27: rest / behave / title
Day 28: party / mania / limit
Day 29: exile / leash / fault
Day 30: quiet / pinned / perfect
Day 31: free day
ALT PROMPTS:
Alien
Headline
Tradeoff
Disappear
Freak show
Worry
Power hungry
Shadows
Reconditioning
Blindfold
Reunion
GUIDELINES:
Prompts should ideally be responded to in the form of whump
Creators can make any type of media they want (Yes, this includes any kind of media, no matter how niche. As long as it’s creative, it’s allowed)
Tag & trigger warn your content accordingly. This includes marking NSFW and putting up proper barriers against minors seeing it
You can complete these prompts in tandem with any other event or other prompts (such as in combination with Bad Things Happen Bingo, AU-gust, etc.)
DO NOT use ai or plagiarize
Tag your works as #augustofwhump and/or #augustofwhump2026. In addition to that, you can also tag this account — @augustofwhump. I’ll try to reblog whatever I can!
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I've been conjuring this up for a few days... Eat up!
CW: Restraints, Carewhumpee Vibes, Whipping?
Note: I promise Beau isn't evil. He's been in Levi's place before.
Levi's heart hammered in his chest, furious and fearful. Beau could feel it as he gripped the younger boy's wrist. He tried to ignore it. There was nothing he could do to stop what was coming.
Beau turned the corner and clenched his jaw as he led Levi to the door at the very end of the hall. He felt Levi plant his feet in the ground. Beau didn't want to fight him on this.
"Levi."
Levi was breathing fast now. He knew that he was in trouble, but being taken to that room was something else entirely.
Beau sighed again and pulled Levi's wrist a little harder, forcing him to walk with him. When they reached the door, Levi started shaking his head, trying to plead but no sound came out.
White walls and floors. All tile. At the far end, a pair of shackles hanging from the ceiling.
"I didn't... I'm not... Please-"
Beau stood in front of Levi and placed his hands on his shoulders, leaning down to look into his eyes.
"Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, okay?"
Levi's eyes remained on the shackles, but they flicked briefly to Beau's.
Beau knew that comforting him would be pointless. He was inconsolable in this state. There was nothing you could say to take that raw, cold panic out of someone's stomach.
"Take off your shirt."
Now Levi looked at Beau.
"Wait, I-"
"Levi."
Levi reached for his shirt but instead wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing up and down as his legs threatened to give out. He was wheezing, choking on his words.
"What is he going to do?"
"Levi."
"What is he going to do?" He repeated, louder.
"Levi. Stop. Look at me. Stop."
And Levi did, desperation filling his eyes. He looked so small and fragile and he was about to be tortured over a small mistake.
"Come on. Take off your shirt."
Levi shook his head, breath stuttering as he choked on sobs.
"Don't fight me. Please."
Levi let his arms fall and Beau lifted the hem of his shirt, pulling it off of him.
Beau watched the life drain from his face.
"What's he gonna do?" Levi whispered, and Beau could see the way that he was going blank. Desolation.
Beau led Levi to the end of the room and began slipping his wrists into the shackles.
"Don't fight him. Don't talk. Don't beg unless he tells you to." Beau squeezed his arm to try and bring him back. "Pick a spot on the floor and stare at it. Keep breathing. You'll probably pass out. Don't fight it."
Levi wanted to be gone. He wanted to slip into that place where he was nothing and nothing was everything. Where everything was quiet and foggy and numb. He wanted to be numb.
"Hey," Beau said, snapping his fingers in front of Levi's empty eyes. "Come on. Stay with me."
A choked sound came from the boys lips, and his eyes flickered slightly.
He put his hands on Levi's shoulders again, digging his thumbs in to try and ground him.
"Did you hear what I said?"
"Mhm." Too quick.
"Levi..." It was quieter this time. A plea. He grabbed Levi's jaw and made him meet his gaze.
"Hey, look at me. You are so brave," Beau said with a teary smile. "You're going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay."
Beau looked up as movement caught his eye. He could see them moving closer from the window in the door. He looked back at Levi, squeezing his shoulders again.
"Remember what I told you." He stood and began to walk off, and it was Levi made a completely 360.
The panic flooded back in, that primal need to survive and escape taking over.
"No, no- Beau-" he choked out. "Don't leave me! Please!" He pulled uselessly at the chains on his wrists. "He's gonna hurt me! Please!" Tears and saliva streamed down his face.
Beau froze at the door, turning back to look at him. He knew this was wrong. It was so, very wrong. But fighting would make it so much worse.
He opened the door and walked out, trying to drown out Levi's screams and pleas.
Whumpee regaining consciousness in the ER after suffering some traumatic accident, and the memories are all flooding back and they can't handle it. They begin to breathe faster, their heart rate rapidly increasing and their frame trembling. They don't fully understand where they are, only that the lights are blinding them. A wave of extreme pain overcomes them and they can't do anything to stop themselves from crying and screaming in between rapid, panicked breaths. Nothing Caretaker can say or do will calm them down, so they just hold Whumpee's hand the whole time.
The doctors have to drug Whumpee to finally put an end to the sudden panic attack. Once Whumpee is reduced to a groggy, mushy, half-aware little puddle, Caretaker can finally talk to them and bring them back to reality.
"Hey..." Caretaker says with a sad smile. "You're okay now, you're safe. You're all patched up and in good hands. I'm just so glad I found you..."
"Patched up" is an understatement considering the severity of Whumpee's injuries, and it's clear they'll be in the hospital for the long haul. Either way, they're calm now, and that's what matters.
Whumper, having just finished beating Whumpee so badly they can barely move, pulling them into a hug and gently stroking their hair, knowing Whumpee is too exhausted and scared and in too much pain to fight it.
Whumpee, in pain or with a high fever or under the influence of painkillers or sedatives, instinctively grabbing for Whumper's hand as they're about the leave, the word mom/dad slipping out of their mouth before they can stop themselves.
Whumpee pleading for Whumper's help as they're tortured by an even worse whumper.
Whumper arranging for Whumpee to fall into the hands of someone worse so they'll realize just how much better Whumper is by comparison.
Whumper gently brushing and braiding Whumpee's hair, their fingers occasionally touching the bruises they left on Whumpee's neck.
It’s really too bad that Ilya Rozanov and Casey Hicks don’t exist in the same universe because their combined chaotic bisexual energy would be off the charts.
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Talk (part 3 of the infamous ill-fated romangst arc) wherein protective/stern leo deals with alternatingly repentant and defiant aiden...
Previous — Masterlist — Next
Leo lets go the second they cross the threshold. Leaving Aiden alone to toe off his shoes and hang up his coat, biting back dread the whole time. When he turns the corner into the living room, Leo holds up a glass of orange juice.
“Sit. Drink.”
Aiden doesn’t bother trying to say he’s fine because his hands are visibly shaking as he reaches for the glass. Leo sits on the coffee table in front of him, silently waiting for him to finish.
Waiting until he’s finished to start.
Aiden slows down, sick anticipation worming under his skin, making him feel clammy all over again. He tries to draw out the last sip as long as possible. He has no idea what he’s going to say. Leo holds his hand out for the glass, setting it down on a coaster soundlessly.
“M’sorry, sir. I…fucked up,” he rushes to say. “I’m so sorry.”
Leo raises his eyebrows.
It’s been weeks and weeks since he regressed like this but he doesn’t know the script to go with whoever he was impersonating today. As shameful as the backslide is, the acrid taste of self-loathing is familiar on his tongue. It’s oh so easy to raze the floodgates they’ve painstakingly fortified so he wouldn’t have to be this. But if he wanted to be something better, he would have told Leo where he was going.
“Please, I didn’t—it won’t—” He’s just babbling now, cheeks hot because he’s only digging himself deeper and they both know it. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m so sorry…”
Leo waits, lets the silence gather weight. Aiden wishes it would push him through the floor. Leo sounds tired when he finally asks, “You done?”
He swallows and nods, unable to find his voice again.
“What’re you doin’?”
“I dunno,” he whispers to his knees.
“Yeah, I can see that.”
Leo lets him squirm for another minute, waits until Aiden works up the nerve to meet his gaze. Leo looks even more disappointed than he sounded on the phone. Probably because after worrying all afternoon, Aiden’s trying to pull shit on him.
“If you’re that upset, we don’t have to talk now,” he says because Aiden gave him no choice. Even if they both know he was faking, floundering, Leo can’t leave it unsaid. Can’t abide even a hypothetical chance of Aiden being uncomfortable. “I won’t push you.”
His throat tightens, mouth thick with saliva. “I know.” He hates the look in Leo’s eyes, questioning and full of distrust. In Aiden’s ability to handle this and, even worse, in Leo’s ability to handle it carefully enough for Aiden. “Sorry,” he whispers. Leo just watches him.
A twist of hopelessness grips his chest and he blinks back hot tears of frustration. One mistake after the other. Impulsivity keeps winning out. A handful of seconds, a snap decision and he’s at the bottom of a hole that took months to crawl out of. The worst part is that he knows better. He knows.
Maybe he should use the out, take the night to pull himself together, but he can’t stand the idea of making Leo wait on him even longer.
“We can…we can-can mmm, talk…now.”
“Okay.” Leo scrubs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. “What happened today?”
He pulls the cuffs of his hoodie into his fists. “I dunno.”
“The last time I didn’t know where you were, you came home beaten to shit,” Leo says, so softly it’s almost a whisper. His eyes are red, more than just exhaustion at the end of a long day. Guilt stabs at Aiden’s heart.
“I know…m’sorry.” It doesn’t feel like enough.
Leo reaches for his hand and Aiden gives it, tears almost falling in relief. He never deserves any of Leo’s forgiveness but if nothing that just makes it all the more precious.
“It’s not that you need my permission or have some curfew. All I want is to know that you’re safe.”
“I kn—” His voice breaks. “M’sorry,” comes out a whisper.
“Hey,” Leo says, squeezing his hand. He looks up sheepishly, even under the gentle admonishment. “Just talk to me, what happened today?”
“Delia had to…go…”
He trips through the retelling: Noah trying to give him the usual exam until his nerves couldn’t handle the switch and how Aiden talked him out of doing it at all.
“I told him—”
Leo reaches for him and he flinches. He didn’t realize he was shrinking into the couch, curling away from Leo.
“M’sorry,” he says quickly, shaking his head at his reaction.
“Hon, what’s happening here?”
“I—I—” He shakes his head again, this time to dispel the tears and panic rising in tandem while he struggles to get a grip. “I told him…the, uhm, exams just get me out and…” He’s whispering by now to force the words out. “Give you a…break.”
Leo frowns. “Aiden…”
“S’fine.”
“Hon.”
“No, Leo,” he pleads. He turns away from the look of sympathy, pity. Concern that makes him want to choke.
“Aiden.”
He wants to fold like a lawn chair at that tone and the weight of Leo’s gaze. It’s the first time in months Aiden’s felt the phantom pressure of fingers against the back of his neck trying to push him to his knees. His lower lip starts to tremble but he refuses to give in.
Leo is just as content to wait him out, which might be even worse than being insistent. He pulls his sleeves over his fists so Leo won’t see him digging his fingernails into his palms.
As bad as that last part was to say, the next admission feels worse. Ungrateful. A lick too close to spoiled that would have angered his father and started the kind of argument that usually ended at the bottom of the stairs.
“Said I’d, uhm, wanted to go…to New York.” He swallows. “Before.”
Leo tilts his head, brow furrowed. Searches Aiden’s face for a second as he chooses his words. It makes Aiden’s stomach twist. “This isn’t a confession,” he says gently.
Aiden’s cheeks burn. Would he have told Leo everything anyway? Because it felt like he had to? That he owed him full transparency after leaving him in the dark for a few hours? It’s embarrassing no matter how he spins it: Over-sharing as a defense mechanism or being too thick to understand the nuance of the question. Either way, it’s hard to keep the bite out of his tone: “So? What?”
Leo raises both hands in a show of peace. “I just want to understand how you wound up at some arcade with Noah and not on the bus like usual.”
“M’trying,” he grits out, tears of frustrating burning in his eyes again. This time he pushes himself to his feet even though it makes him feel a little sick to his stomach to walk away from Leo in the middle of this.
He faces the big front window and stares out, forcefully tracing the line of the trees in the twilight to distract himself. The bright reds and oranges of the turning leaves muted to deeper tones, the forest mourning-veiled over a time that just a few weeks ago was still daylight. The summer sun has long since waned.
“We went to-to…people watch,” he says, once he’s sure his voice will come out steady. “At first.”
“Right.” Leo’s still sitting on the coffee table, hasn’t moved to follow him.
“Then we, we, mmm’played some games.” It feels strange to admit. Sounds so foreign, he can hardly imagine it was really him, that he knew how to do that, start-to-finish, back to the car in one piece with only one huge oversight. “I, uhm, should’ve…”
Aiden tenses unconsciously when Leo moves behind him but he makes sure to relax before Leo’s hands gently rest on his shoulders. Leo’s murmured, “Easy,” tells him the revision wasn’t missed.
It’s alright. You’ll remember next time.”
He leans his head back against Leo’s shoulder and Leo wraps him up in his arms.
Something unwinds inside him and his exhale feels impossibly long until he’s wrung out and empty.
You’re worried he’s stifling but you’re the one doing all the stifling. Noah selling him out, even though Aiden was about to confess it all to Leo in his mindless desperation for forgiveness, still rings through him.
“I dunno…about a next time,” he admits in a whisper. Something heavy tugs at his heart.
“Did—”
“M’tired.”
Leo takes a breath. Either he’s going to push to say his piece or it takes effort to set it aside. Aiden feels exhausted by both and bites back the urge to apologize and ask what he was going to say, just for the balm of it. Even though he knows he’s reaching his capacity, knows that of all the remaining possibilities for discussion, each one requires more energy and care than the last.
All Leo does is release him, squeezing his shoulders before he steps back. “Yeah, me too. Let’s call it.”
He avoids Leo’s gaze as they shuffle past each other taking turns with the bathroom. It won’t be the first time he copped out of a conversation he didn’t want to have. Leo only lets him get away with it when it’s about Aiden’s past. If Leo wants to talk about anything else from tonight, he’ll bring it up at breakfast. Fastidious in his commitment to leave nothing unsaid between them after the way things started.
“Night,” he says when he passes Leo’s cracked door after brushing his teeth.
“Good night, hon.”
His door closes with a soft click and he lets out a long breath into the quiet darkness of his room.
