The Smoke From His Lips

23

Connor tugged Jared upstairs and dove onto the bed, letting his arms shoot straight out and his legs flop on impact, like a Superman jump. Jared watched and snorted, mumbling, "You're like a fucking toddler."

"Not sure if that's a compliment or not," Connor chuckled shortly, patting the bed for Jared. He made sure he didn't turn on all the lights and twisted the blinds slightly on his window so it wouldn't let as much light in. Jared plopped on the mattress and sat criss cross applesauce next to Connor.

"Movie?" Connor suggested, sitting up and adjusting to grab the remote, reaching over Jared. He froze though, when he felt Jared's hand grab onto his upper wrist, right near his hand. Well, Jared was really half on his hand, but not the direct point. "... What's up?" Connor hesitated, scared out of his wits and that definitely showed in his tone. He never bothered masking emotions in front of Jared anymore. He trusted him.

Jared just made eye contact with Connor, eyes glazed over and hidden behind the glare of his glasses. Fuck, he was upset about something. Or worried. His bottom lip was twitching, that meant he was about to cry which meant he must've been scared, worried or upset because those are the only times he cries. Okay, slow your roll Connor.

"Are you okay?" Jared managed to conjure up, voice fumbling and stumbling with his uncertainty. It was a stupid question and Jared knew that. "Fuck, I mean, I just— Well just you, uh—shit."

Connor gently tried to wiggle out of Jared's grip, but midway through that, it clicked what Jared was holding him for. He glanced at Jared before slapping the back of his hand and pulling his arm back, not flinching when Jared squeaked and bit his lip hard. "Don't touch me," Connor stated coldly and loudly. He paused, looked over Jared's fearful expression and had to process for a while before adding on, "... Please."

Jared shakily lowered his hand and nodded. He had to process it all, wait and take deep breaths. He hesitated heavily before whispering, "Can I see?"

Connor held his sleeve down tightly and shakily, mind hurting worse than he could describe. It all felt hot, the room felt like it was closing in on him and his ears filled with words and yells and he wanted to scream. He was paranoid of Jared leaving him for cutting himself, which was a very sudden and heavy way to say it though, Connor hated saying he cut himself. He wanted to say it in a gentler way—maybe that he "hurts himself" or has "self injurious tendencies" or maybe even just hey, he "self harms". 

"I just wanna see if it's... infected, or—or need stitches or need to be cleaned or—" Jared sounded like he wasn't even breathing before he cut himself off and taking a shaky and uneven breath. Connor hated seeing Jared so anxious and panicked. He stood up briefly, walking to Jared's bag. He grabbed Jared's inhaler and cane back, just in case he had an asthma attack from anxiety or just in general. He's definitely seen it before, Jared started talking too fast and was way too anxious and he watched as Alana had to sit Jared down and straighten him up, shake an inhaler and get his lips open enough to take a puff. She counted his breaths and rubbed his chest and only stopped if he was agitated or if he was stable and okay to breathe on his own. He talked to her one on one to learn how to help him in case he had an asthma attack.

He held onto the small bag and set it between them both and watched closely. Jared shakily grabbed his inhaler and inhaled a puff before taking deeper breaths. He looked at Connor with slightly watery eyes and a worried look and Connor just gave in. Jared gave him a soft spot he didn't know he had. He took a shaky breath and held his arm out to Jared, leaving him to roll his sleeve up.

Jared did very carefully and inhaled sharply seeing the scabbed over cuts up his forearm. He didn't know what else to do but hug him, so he did. He hugged Connor tight, arms diving below his and wrapping tight around his waist, eyes shut tight and mouth open to exhale each breath he took so he wouldn't choke. Connor was... stunned. He expected yelling. In fact, the voice of his old buddy echoed in his mind. How he yelled at Connor for not improving and now liking to talk about it, how he hid it with bracelets and long sleeves, Hell, even how Connor cared for him when he saw his cuts, and how Connor doesn't want it the other way around though. Everything that he said to Connor bounced around and he didn't even know when he started to cry, but after stifling a quiet sob he realized what was happening. Fuck, he hated crying.

"Hey, hey hey Connor, it's okay," Jared tried to ease but sounded nervous, maybe even scared. "Do you wanna... talk about it?"

" 't isn' okay," Connor choked out weakly. "I don' wan' talk, y'wont'ven und'rstand't and I learned my lesson about talk'n' 'bout emotions."

Jared paused and looked at Connor, having to pull himself back slowly and loosen his grip on the still one sided hug. Connor rubbed his eyes and tried to imagine that he wasn't crying like a baby in front of Jared. "Con," Jared began to hesitate, "I can try my hardest to understand. I know it could be hard to talk about, trust me, I really do know it's hard to talk about pain either it be physical or emotional or both. I don't wanna push or force it, I just... I want you to know I'm always gonna... gonna be here for you, okay?" Connor slowly nodded in response. "I wanna help somehow."

Connor pushed back and shoveled through his nightstand draw, grabbing his cigarette pack and lighter along with his dab pen. He felt woozy. He opened the window and sat back down in front of Jared. "I'm sorry," Connor mumbled shakily.
~

Yoink

It got angsty pretty quick
Notice how Jared says he knows how hard it is to talk about pain

And that I haven't introduced any of his family
And they've never gone to his house before

Ùwú

Have fun sitting on that for a bit

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