Work Text:
Liam was alone, before it all. He had been very lonely, only having some work friends that he would at sporadic points, go to a bar with and such. He was never a drinker, so he would sit there nervously watching them all get wasted, awkwardly laughing at them bumbling through jokes and stories. He didn't get invited too often. Which for the longest time, was fine. He was alright with being alone in his little bubble.
Until everything happened. And then, he had to depend on someone with his life, and while he wasn't the most hospitable person he could've ran to, he was the only person he had. And eventually, Bryce came to depend on him too; they went through something nobody else had (well, not entirely, but those who went through it as well either lived across the country, or hadn't thought of it in decades.) The long and short of it is: Bryce and Liam were practically stuck together, and they were the ones who applied the glue.
He hated admitting it to Bryce, but he was scared of him leaving. Liam never saw himself as a clingy person and was really the opposite for the longest time, so feeling absolutely terrified if Bryce left for too long was, in itself, terrifying for Liam. He felt like his feelings were trivial and stupid; Bryce was just out for groceries, Bryce was just out working, he would rationalize to his brain, but it would remind him of the time he saw Bryce disappear infront of him with no way for Liam to help and no warning, just to end up back there, and the thought immediately shut down all rationalization and only left him feeling as scared, nerve shot and exhausted as he did for that week.
He had no idea how to help overcome this fear but it was quickly becoming a problem as it would send him into a panic attack if Bryce was just in the bathroom for too long. For now, he just did what he did best. Isolate his feelings, keep them from Bryce, and deal with it himself.
"Going to work," Bryce called out from the front door. Liam hated how a visceral fear tore through his body. He channeled the hatred and fear into scrubbing the dishes.
"Okay," he called back, keeping his voice steady, "bye!"
"Bye!" the door clicked shut. The tinge of warmth he got from the 'love you' was swept away with deep anxiety. He took in deep breaths, trying to wash away the feeling, but his mind only supplied theoreticals of getting a knock at his door, and Bridgeport police telling him Bryce was gone, and at that point everything would unravel like a delicate sweater in the wash, he would lose the apartment, Bryce, everything,
Once his brain started spiralling into that hole, it was so, so difficult to crawl out. There were a million different plausible situations, and it was all just an endless loop of getting terrified of losing Bryce, terrified that he feels so dependent on someone else, and terrified that his dependence could chase Bryce away. And then, thought after thought of Bryce hating him, and he should've never gotten in a relationship, and, and,
At some point his tears had started to fall and mix in with the dishwater, dripping down along with the tap into still, soapy water. He can't believe he's crying into the dishes. Over theoretical situations. He lets the plates float and clatter against each other as he removes his hands from the water, holding on to the edge of the counter and closing his eyes to combat his lightheadedness.
Then the door opens. And guilt-laced ice pours into his veins.
"Forgot my fucking car ke—" Bryce begins with a jokingly frustrated tone, but immediately fades out when he sees his boyfriend crying into the sink. He immediately crosses into the kitchen, Liam's heart twisting with guilt. Why couldn't you just be normal. Finish the dishes. Not hold up your partner from going to work. The self berating thoughts only work against him, causing more tears to form. Bryce immediately beelines to his side, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Bryce attempting to touch him but thinking against it, hovering a hand near him.
"W-were the dishes that frustrating?" Bryce hesitantly jokes, and Liam can't help but follow his nervous laughter through sniffles. Liam shakes out his sleeves from their scrunched up state to scrub at his face like it'll just make everything go away if he scrubs hard enough. Just like dishes.
"Yeah, I-I'm fine," he lies through his teeth, "go to work, it'll be fine." Lying is stupid. And he knows this. He's a terrible liar, his jaw clenching up every time he tries to and gives it away every time. And Bryce isn't stupid, giving him the most "I do not believe you and I'm giving you a second chance to not lie" face he's ever seen on anyone. Unfortunately he's dating someone who cares a lot about him, and he's sure that Bryce would miss the whole day of work if it meant staying until Liam felt okay. Liam deflates with a long sigh, and Bryce puts a comforting hand on his shoulder and leads him to their room.
"So," he starts, closing the door, "do you want to talk about it?" Liam sits on the edge of the bed, immediately fiddling with the sheets.
"I should," he admits. The fear creeps back, grasping at his lungs and causing his breathing to stutter. He's terrified. He shouldn't be, but he's so, so scared of saying something that makes Bryce snap and leave. For now, he sits on the bed beside Liam, weighing it down with a creak. Even though his current problems are laced with Bryce, his close presence is still comforting.
"I-" he starts, voice threatening to give out. He just forcibly clears his throat and moves on,
"I'm really scared of you disappearing again." He feels Bryce shift and starts fiddling with his own hands, a distraction mostly to make sure he doesn't burst into tears again.
"I am too," Bryce admits, "of disappearing myself. And sometimes I'm also freaked out that you might go back too."
"Yeah, but is it to the point that you have a panic attack whenever I leave the room for too long," his voice is raw, admitting all of this to Bryce is causing his hands to tremble.
"...No, no my fear isn't that bad," he sighs, “but, it makes sense why you feel that way. You were the one who just saw how easy it was to just get sent back. I’d probably feel the same way if I saw you disappear right in front of me.” Bryce holds out his hand, an offer for Liam to take it. He’s still nervous, knowing that if he does Bryce will be able to feel his shaking hands, but he still holds it up for Bryce to take, knowing that it comforts him.
“But Liam, there’s no way to get back now. There’s no way to get taken back anymore, because you destroyed the only way back. I can’t disappear anywhere. And if I could, I’m sure you’d just end up saving me all over again,” he lightly chuckles at the last part.
“It’s not only you disappearing to The Plane that I’m scared of, I-” he takes a deep breath, “I’m also just scared of being too fucked up for you to date.” He wants to curl in on himself.
“Liam,” Bryce says firmly, “we have the same scars. We went through the same shit. Am I too fucked up for you?”
“Wh- no, obviously not-”
“Then you’re not too fucked up for me. We’re like the perfect amount of fucked up for eachother that it loops back around to normal,” a smile tinges his words. Liam’s brain can’t argue with that; if it did, it would just be insulting Bryce while he’s at it. Double standards be damned.
“That does make me feel better, but a conversation about it isn’t just going to fix everything,” Liam says dejectedly. Bryce taps against his fingers, thinking.
“Well, I can’t just stay here forever, how about…” he thinks for a moment, “how about, if you’re worried, send me a text or something.”
“What if I bother you with it??”
“I dunno, just send me a meme. That won't really be bugging me, we do that all the time anyways. I’ll try to respond with a ‘lol’ or something.” Liam nods, agreeing that meme sending is harmless and would probably do the job of quelling some anxieties.
“What if I still have a,” he waves his hands around ambiguously, dancing around saying “episode” or any other similar word, “y’know?” Bryce thankfully nods.
“Well, what are some things that comfort you?”
“Uhhh, music sometimes. Writing?” He pauses, “you?”
“What, like, talking to me?”
“Being around you,” he says, embarrassed. Sure, they’re dating, but it’s still a little flustering to admit that someone’s a comfort for you. Bryce nods, deep in thought, and then jumps up from the bed and leaves for a moment, leaving Liam confused. He comes back with his sweater, a fluffy white hoodie with some colour blocks. He throws it at Liam, hitting him in the face before he can even realize.
“I wear that every day, so it should be the closest thing you’ll get without me,” he states. Liam pulls it off his face and looks at it for a moment; it’s made out of the same fabric as a throw blanket. He’d felt it before, at times when he’s hugged Bryce, but only for those few moments. Bryce is right, he does see this thing every day. So often, he kind of forgot about it after seeing it on Bryce all the time. The sweater’s practically a part of him.
He pulls it on, immediately encased in the fuzziness and warmth of it. And Bryce is right, it is the closest he’ll get to a warm hug from his boyfriend without actually getting one. He looks up at Bryce, who’s red in the face and looking incredibly flustered. He stares for a moment before the lightbulb goes off.
“You just wanted me to wear your sweater!” He points accusingly. Bryce holds his hands up defensively, looking away.
“Fine, fine, you caught me. You look as cute as I thought you would,” he smirks. Liam immediately gets flustered as well.
“Oh my god, get out of here, go to work,” he waves Bryce off, and Bryce is about to go until he hovers by the doorway.
“Are you going to be okay?” He asks, concern weaved in his question.
“Yes, I’ll be fine,” he says, more convincing than last time, and completely honestly, “now go to work, I know you’re late.” He’s 5 seconds from getting up and shoving Bryce out the door, but Bryce throws his arms in the air.
“Okay, okay, I’m going,” he says, voice echoing as he goes down the hall. Liam sighs happily as he falls back onto the bed, about to think about how much he loves Bryce when he hears a jingle in Bryce’s hoodie’s pocket. He fishes it out and,
Oh shit, the car keys.
He jumps up off the bed, hurriedly stumbling into the living room where Bryce is just about to close the door
“Wait,” he calls while crossing through the living room, “you literally forgot what you came back for.” He holds out the keys.
“Shit,” he says, smiling sheepishly. He takes the keys, hand lingering for a second. He can tell Bryce is still worried about him, always caring about him.
“I love you,” Liam says, breathlessly. Bryce blinks a few times before the blush visibly grows on his face.
“Fuck you,” he says back weakly, but follows up with, “I love you too.” Liam can only smile as he closes the door between them.
He turns around, ready to head back to the dishes, but sees a popcorn PNG pulled up on Texty’s screen. He can only shake his head at them, sighing.