Archive of Our Own

The first time Jedidiah realised he was really in love with Sydney - not awestruck or infatuated or any of the million other things he tried to play it off as - they were 16. Sydney’s hair was littered with more leaves and mushrooms than usual, and even though they both paused by the door to toe off their shoes, he left a small but noticeable mud trail as they trudged up to their room. (Or, technically Jedidiah’s, but at that point Sydney stayed over often enough it might as well be his room too.)

Jedidiah cringed as Sydney, muddy clothes and all, stretched himself over the bed like a cat. His bones made a loud, unnerving popping noise that always made Jedidiah shudder no matter how many times he’d heard it by then.

“Do you think I could live another day without a shower?” His dirt-covered face scrunched into a frown, and Jedidiah laughed until he realized Sydney wasn’t going to join him.

“Wait, you’re serious? Sydney, you’re covered in mud!”

“So no?” Sydney clarified.

“We were out in the woods all day!”

“I do that, like, every day.”

“Exactly!” Jedidiah squawked. “And I’m already going to need to change the blanket, now, too. Do you even have any clean clothes?”

“No.” Sydney groaned, sinking deeper into the bed. “So there's basically no point, right?”

“No, it’s fine, you can- Just get up real quick. You can borrow some of mine.”

Jedidiah tried not to notice the way Sydney turned to catch his eyes, or the way his own face heated up at the suggestion.

Sydney heaved another heavy sigh.

“What if I just sleep outside? When the earth claims me, I’ll no longer have a need for mortal concerns like showers…”

“Sydney.”

“I know, I know!” he grumbled. His voice had been missing its usual chirpy tone, replaced by a deep weariness. “Just… God, just give me a minute, okay? And sorry about the bed. My back is killing me.”

“I thought you said you were feeling okay today?”

“Yeah, well, I lied.”

Jedidiah’s stomach sank. “You lied? Wh- why would you lie about that? Sydney-”

“ Because , Jeddie, I didn’t just want to sit around all day! And I knew you’d- And it’s- it’s fine ! I can handle myself.”

“Well, obviously not, if you’re-”

Sydney shoved himself onto his feet with a small stumble, flinching away when Jedidiah reached out to steady him. Jedidiah tried - failed - not to flinch in response.

“Just… leave the clothes outside the door, or something.”

Jedidiah was silent as Sydney grabbed his crutches, only mumbling a small ‘okay’ when he lingered a second too long in the doorframe. As the door clicked shut behind him, Jedidiah closed his eyes and let out a small, shaky breath.

Sydney had lied to him. It kind of felt like the end of the world, then.

He’d trudged over to his dresser to distract himself with gathering the clothes, unwilling to linger on the thought. Any of his pants would’ve been too long on Sydney, so he’d opted for an oversized sleep shirt and a pair of shorts that were slightly too baggy on him.

(Regrettably, he recalls, as they had definitely not been baggy on Sydney the way his pants or any of Sydney’s own clothes would have been, and at the time Jedidiah hadn’t had the capacity to express why, exactly, this was an issue when they’d settled into bed that night.)

He knocked on the bathroom door when dropping off the clothes, just to let Sydney know he had done so, and was greeted with a loud clattering in response.

“Sydney? Are you okay?” He knocked slightly more frantically.

A hiss, then more clattering.

“Fine, Jeddie!”

“Do you, like, need… anything?” He’d stumbled over the end of his sentence as his brain tried to supply the word help in its place.

He could feel his face going red. Sydney had to have been aware of the slip-up; but even if he wasn’t, Jedidiah was . And as quickly as he’d had the traitorous little thought, it lodged itself firmly in the forefront of his mind. Sydney’s hair was always too much of a mess to run his hands through - though Jedidiah was sure he would never confess to wanting to - and he was overcome with the sudden urge to sit under the water with him until every strand was carefully untangled.

“Jeddie? You there?”

“Uh, wh- Yeah, haha, what?”

“A towel?”

“Right! Yeah, I’ll… I’ll go get that for you. Right.”

On his way to the hall closet, Lucille had called him into her room, either to complain about the mud or his absence all day, though Jedidiah was hardly paying attention to the why. It was probably the mud.

Either way, he’d spent the rest of the time Sydney was in the shower scrubbing down the floors until they were spotless, even by Lucille’s standards. It was much easier than thinking about Sydney’s hair, or the little relaxed sigh he would make under the stream of warm water, or the fact that the thoughts made Jedididah’s stomach churn with guilt, even if they posed as innocent. That might’ve been worse than just straight-up thinking of him naked. At least then he could play it off as the devil talking. Instead, his heart squeezed in his chest, a bubbling, bursting tenderness that he thought might actually suffocate him if he couldn’t get it out.

He just scrubbed the floor harder.

—

He’s less mortified by the feelings now, if only marginally. Enough so that, when Sydney lethargically drones on about all the problems a shower poses - dizzy spells and trying to stretch aching joints and the general misery of not having anything to occupy his mind - the offer leaves his mouth before Jedidiah can even give it a second thought.

“I can help you.”

Sydney tenses under his arm and shifts so that they’re lying face-to-face. His brain catches up a moment later, and he can feel his face begin to heat up at the implication. “If… um, I just mean, if you want?"

Sydney squints at his face, as if studying him, before huffing. It blows the bangs away from his face and gives Jedidiah the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

The weirdest part is that he’s allowed to.

They’ve only been dating for about two months, officially. Jedidiah likes to think they’ve always been close, but the truth is, the intimacy is something that had left a long time ago. He almost doesn’t know how he lived without it now. Anytime they’re together, either cuddled up together like they are now or sitting just close enough to feel Sydney’s energy radiating off him, his heart rate picks up an almost worrying amount.

“Jedidiah Abraham Adonais Martin. Are you trying to get me naked?”

It gets infinitely worse when Sydney says things like that.

“Wh- No! I didn’t- No! No, I just meant…” He can tell his face is red just by the grin he gets in response. “ Sydney. ”

“Sorry, sorry.” Sydney laughs, sounding not sorry at all. “You’re just so easy to mess with.”

Jedidiah’s eyebrows furrow and his mouth pinches into the same frown Sydney always makes fun of him for. The expression melts away as soon as Sydney leans in closer, and his smile turns softer. He presses their lips together; it’s so short it can hardly qualify as a kiss, but Jedidiah lingers in the space so he can feel Sydney’s gentle breathing.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he clarifies, willing the heat in his face to settle. “I just mean, like, if you didn’t wanna take one yourself? I could help, um…  maybe wash- wash your hair for you, or-”

“Jeez, Jeddie. I’m not some helpless damsel.”

“I know that,” he mumbles, far too sincerely. “I know, seriously, I just…”

The words get caught in his throat. The last thing he wants Sydney to think is that he doesn’t trust him to look after himself - even if he does struggle to. It’s only because Sydney doesn’t half the time. And Jedidiah would never blame him for it, because it isn’t really his fault; he just wishes Sydney would accept the help when he needs it.

Because Jedidiah’s not good with words, he’s good with actions.

He never quite knows what to say, even around Sydney everything tends to feel clunky or awkward or downright forced; he usually felt most comfortable saying nothing at all, and most memories of their conversations now are embarrassing blunders from their teenage years and guilt for overblown arguments. They’re worth holding onto only because they’re of Sydney. But he’s always felt an unwavering fondness for the memories of holding him, or brushing his hair, or helping him walk. The exhausted smile he would always give when a plate of food was shoved into his hands, and the sigh he let out when his muscles gave way under a massage on the few occasions rare enough that his pain overtook his guilt over asking.

It feels like the only thing Jedidiah knows how to do sometimes. It feels like the only thing he was made for.

“...I just thought it would be nice,” he finishes lamely.

“Seriously, you don’t need to do all that. You know you can just tell me if I stink,” Sydney jokes, knocking his foot against Jedidiah’s. His smile doesn’t fully reach his eyes, though, and Jedidiah struggles to figure out why. Because ev en when Jedidiah had run himself into the ground trying to care for Sydney, he’d never lost the passion for it.

It exhausted him in its all-consuming intensity, and it drove him half-mad at times, but he’d never blamed Sydney . If anything, he’d just backed off for fear of scaring him off. He knows he can feel… obsessive, at times. He just tries to make sure Sydney doesn’t feel it too. 

“That’s not even- You said you wanted a shower!” Jedidiah huffs. He knows Sydney is trying to rile him up over something dumb as a distraction, even if he doesn’t know why; he also knows, unfortunately, that it usually works anyway.  “I- I really didn’t mean anything by it, but if you just don’t want me there, or- or don’t feel comfortable, that’s fine! I just figured it would be a little easier for- for you. But you can forget I asked!”

Sydney narrows his eyes again before closing them. He lets out a deep, tired sigh and Jedidiah feels him go limp in his arms. “Gosh, calm down. Okay. You win.”  It doesn’t feel much like a win when he can feel the little remaining energy fizzle out of Sydney like a light. “Just give me a minute, I don’t want to walk right now.”

“Oh. Um. Are you sure?”

“Do you not want to now?” Sydney sighs.

“No-! Yes, I mean…I do…” Jedidiah pauses, trying to force the shaky stuttering out of his voice. “I do,” he reaffirms, giving a short laugh of relief when his voice comes out steadier than before. “I could, um, carry you?”

“Can you?” Sydney laughs against his chest, though it’s weak and comes out in a barely-there puff of air. “I recall you barely being able to last time, and you were definitely high on adrenaline.”

“That’s a… fair assessment,” Jedidiah relents. “But the bathroom isn’t far. And you can actually help me this time.”

Sydney hums loudly in thought. “Hindering sounds more fun.”

He tells himself the suggestion had been half-joking to begin with just in case Sydney says no. He knows it isn’t as easy as it used to be; they’ve both grown since then, but Jedidiah thinks he just looks like he’s been pulled through a taffy stretcher half the time. It doesn’t help that he can't count the times he locked himself in his study for nights on end with progressively less care for getting the right amount of food or sleep, well past the time he could feel his body begin to falter. There had been more important things to take care of. Still, he’s beginning to regret not dedicating more time to it now.

Not that he minds having to wait for Sydney; he’ll take all the moments he can get to stare without being noticed, eve n if the risk has lowered from feeling life-ending to only mildly catastrophic now that they’re officially dating.

S ydney’s pretty. He’s always thought so. His face is scrunched up in a frown that has Jedidiah’s heart skip with the thought of kissing it away. His hair is lying almost flat, curling out at just the ends, and Jedidiah knows it’ll fluff out again after being washed. He can feel the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile at the thought.

“Earth to Jedidiah?”

“Huh?”

Jedidiah blinks once, twice, trying to clear his mind.

Sydney sighs. “Are you ready to lead me on this perilous trek?”

“The twenty foot walk to the bathroom?” He laughs. It’s too genuine to sound teasing like he wants it to. “I think we’ll be alright.”

He almost eats his words; Jedidiah stumbles and staggers his way into the bathroom with Sydney, then spends far too long trying to let him down without jostling him enough to cause pain.

It doesn’t help that Sydney keeps his arms clung around him the whole time, giggling through another assurance that he could’ve handled himself in a few minutes' time. Jedidiah doesn’t doubt it - he seems to already be feeling marginally better - but he feels an overwhelming bubbling, almost akin to pride, bubbling in his chest regardless. More at making Sydney laugh than anything. 

Sydney finally lets go as he settles into a sitting position on the side of the tub.

Jedidiah reaches past him to turn on the water, warmer than he usually likes, because he knows Sydney prefers to let it run hot enough to fill the room with steam. He presses a kiss to his cheek and keeps ahold of his waist even when he pulls away, just to linger in the warm and fuzzy feeling that comes with being close to Sydney. He brushes small circles into his hip and Sydney just stares at him with a look he can’t read for a long moment, until his hand brushes against Jedidiah’s at the hem of his shirt. His expression shifts to something more hesitant and questioning.

Something in his brain clicks as he remembers, perhaps too late, that showering with Sydney also means undressing with Sydney.

Jedidiah pulls his hand away like he’s been burned.

“Let me, um, get these out of your hair,” he says. “Ha, literally.” Sydney opens his mouth to protest, and Jedidiah holds his hands up with a peace offering. “I’m not trying to get rid of them, I just need to take them out before we shower. I’ll… set them by the sink.”

Sydney nods, eyeing him cautiously until Jedidiah begins arranging the collection of mushrooms and twigs in a small pile next to his glasses. He spends too long sweeping the dirt and crumbling pieces of leaf into a neat, contained perimeter, and is snapped back to the present by the rustle of fabric and a soft thud. Jedidiah looks over his shoulder without thinking, and is met first with the sight of something black and blurred piled on the floor - Sydney’s shirt , he realizes when the second thing he sees is a slightly blurry, very shirtless Sydney squirming his way out of his layers of skirts.

“Right, clothes,” Jedidiah mumbles, eyes darting rapidly around the room for something to focus on that isn’t Sydney undressing. Suddenly Jedidiah’s own shirt is feeling overly itchy.

“I’m, uh-” he stumbles, his voice quieter than intended and shaking. He clears his throat. “I’ll be back. Clothes- clean ones. Yep!” Because at the very least, the growing pile on the floor reminds him that they still need to get dressed again when they’re done; and Jedidiah knows that Sydney’s had on the same clothes for two days at the least and will try to go for a third if Jedidiah lets him. 

The bathroom door clicks carefully, meticulously closed behind him. He swears he can hear it echo, though he knows it must just be the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.

“Okay Jedidiah,” he mutters to himself, speed-walking to the room. “-just be cool.”

He pointedly ignores the voice in his head telling him that the way his voice squeaks and the fact that he ran out of the bathroom is already distinctly not cool; he tries to focus on his breathing instead. Sydney’s tried to teach him a breathing exercise before, but Jedidiah’s pretty sure he either remembered it wrong or just never learned it right in the first place. His heart is still trying to lodge its way into his throat when he makes it to the bedroom.

Sydney’s clothes are arranged in what Jedidiah lovingly refers to as an organized wreck. His dresser drawer fights with Jedidiah as he pulls it open, and it becomes obvious about half-way through his efforts that it’s because the clothes in the drawer are wadded up instead of folded.

He manages to grab Sydney a sleep shirt, then gives a quick glance back to his own packed bag of clothes before snatching another for himself. He’s pretty sure he recognizes the band logo on the front as something Sydney listened to when they were in highschool. He nudges a pile of clothes from in front of the bottom drawer to grab a pair of fuzzy pajama pants, then takes an extra moment to mourn the fact that there’s no way any of Sydney’s pants will fit him. He prepares himself to be teased, knowing Sydney won’t believe he forgot just his sleep shirts. Not that there was much of a chance Sydney would believe him if he said he’d forgotten anything to begin with.

After grabbing a pair of his own shorts from the bag of clothes by the bed, Jedidiah gives himself a once-over in the mirror. He fiddles with his hair and checks that his face isn’t too red before marching back to the bathroom.

He knocks on the door and waits for a response. And waits. He knocks again. “Sydney?”

“Why are you knocking?” Sydney asks.

Jedidiah figures it’s as much of an invitation as any.

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t, um… indecent…” he mumbles, purposely avoiding looking in Sydney’s direction as he notices Sydney's clothes scattered around the floor. He hangs the clean clothes over the towel bar and tries to gather his thoughts. Or maybe just get rid of them altogether.

“Hate to break it to you, Jeddie, but we’re trying to shower here. So if you’re going by Lucille’s standards we’re gonna have to get a little indecent,” Sydney teases, though something is off in his tone. 

“Right,” he says. “Right, I know that. Just, um…”

He grabs an extra towel from the cabinet under the sink and considers laying it out of the floor by the tub. So they won't have to clean up the water that will inevitably get everywhere, but more importantly so he still has something to do to stall his mind. It also means looking in Sydney’s general direction, given he’s still sitting in the tub, which is the thing he’s distinctly trying to avoid. 

“You know you don’t have to,” Sydney grumbles. “I know you think you're… responsible for me or whatever. But I’m not a child.”

“I know that. I do! Don’t- I can feel you looking at me all weird, stop it.”

Sydney’s eyes meet Jedidiah’s when he turns toward the bathtub. Sydney is still looking at him weird. 

“Yeah, well, this is the first time you’re looking at me at all,” he mumbles; Jedidiah barely manages to catch it over the sound of running water. His tone is clear, though - bitter and distant. It’s a stark contrast to a few minutes ago, and it immediately sets off alarm bells for Jedidiah.

He crouches by the tub, almost like approaching a stray animal - the image has him holding back a laugh - while he places the towel next to the tub. He adjusts it more than he needs to as he talks just to avoid eye contact again, mostly for his own sake. “Sorry for being nervous,” he says. He tries to make it sound nicer than he usually would, but his voice mostly just comes out quieter to match Sydney’s. He clears his throat and continues, louder: "I'm just nervous, it has nothing to do with you, it’s… no, that sounds cliche. Well, either way. I do want to help you.”

There’s a few seconds where he thinks Sydney isn’t going to respond. He blinks, shakes his head, and keeps his eyes shut with his head under the spray of the shower.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sydney shields his face from the water with one hand and squints at Jedidiah. “You know you still need to take your clothes off to be of any help,” he teases.

“Right. I know that.”

He can practically feel Sydney’s eyes following him until he ducks out of sight; it’s confirmed by a half-incredulous laugh from the other boy, along with a mumbled request for him to ‘ join whenever,’ that does nothing to help the heat rising to Jedidiah’s face as he peels his shirt off. He fumbles with his belt for longer than he’d like to admit and drops the rest of his clothes before he can think about it. He’s not thinking about it. He isn’t.

Except there isn’t a lot else to think about, because everything - the tip-tapping of the water against tile, and the stuttering in his breath, and the panicked look his reflection gives him in the mirror - just reminds him of the current situation.

He squeezes his eyes shut and tells himself to just get in the shower already. No thinking.

It’s not like they’ve never seen each other naked before; Sydney had had a… strange concept of boundaries, when they were younger, and never quite seemed to grasp the concept of separate rooms for changing. Jedidiah hadn’t cared - for what are, looking back, embarrassingly obvious reasons - and they’d only gotten closer as they grew up. It’s just… been a while since college. He definitely doesn’t look the way Sydney remembers. 

Jedidiah blinks. It’s not like they’re trying to do anything other than shower. It’ll be fine . No thinking .

Except he’s already done a lot of thinking, and there isn’t really a way to stop it once it starts, so he just forces his legs to move against the grinding of gears in his brain until he manages to lower himself into the tub beside Sydney, sitting sideways with his eyes closed to protect against the downpour. He half-heartedly reassures himself that it’s all ‘ logical and necessary’ , but a larger part of him has just accepted his eternal damnation in exchange for getting to help Sydney. He was probably going to hell before this anyway.

With that in mind, he has the courage to squint one eye open.

Sydney is always beautiful, but it’s a rare sight to see him so at ease, especially in more recent years; Jedidiah tries to drown out the guilty voice telling him just how much of that is his own fault. He studies the way the too-warm water falls from the showerhead above and clings and wraps its way around strands of Sydney’s hair, pulling them into shiny waves over his back, as a distraction. The snaggletooth that only pokes out of his smile now when he’s not actively trying to hide it - it’s why Jedidiah loves it more than he cares to admit. It's such a stark difference from the rest of the day that Jedidiah feels his own worries start to melt away in tandem.

His stomach won’t stop tying itself in happy little knots. He isn’t used to this blatant wanting - or at least, he’s never known how to make peace with it. It’d be hard not to adjust somewhat after the years he’s spent around Sydney, given it never quite went away when he was around the other boy. The larger part of his brain recognizes it as disgusting self indulgence; like a kid making himself sick on candy.

And yet he wants . 

He wants to never leave this moment, wants for Sydney to keep that same gentle, unbothered expression for the rest of time. He wants time to stop entirely. Nothing else matters but this. He wants to run his hands through Sydney's hair, and he wants to kiss him, and he wants it to fix every problem Sydney’s ever had. Or he wants to become one with the water and sink down the drain just so he never has to worry about upsetting Sydney ever again. The water from the showerhead weaves delicate patterns down Sydney’s skin, warm and comforting, and Jedidiah fights to think of a time where he’d made him smile as much. It seems so easy. So simple .

His thoughts are interrupted by a frustrated grumble as Sydney fights through the tangles in his hair, his shoulders tugging at odd angles as he tries to brush it. The calm, contented smile has twisted into something eternally tired, and more than anything, Jedidiah wants - needs - it gone.

“Here. Let me help.”

He runs a strand of Sydney’s hair between his fingers before he can so much as think about it, and immediately comes to regret it when Sydney flinches, snapped out of his momentary trance. 

“Oh. Hi.”

Sydney gets this look - he’s been seeing it more, lately - like he’s not fully expecting the world or people around him to respond; including Jedidiah. The thought of it makes him a little sick. The idea that Jedidiah could ever see him as anything less than the center of his world, let alone not see him at all.

Jedidiah pulls his hand back quickly, and leaves it to hover over Sydney’s shoulder instead. His mouth is half-open in an attempt at an apology, but he can’t manage to get the words out. He imagines it were as easy for him as it were the water; that all he would need is to wrap himself around Sydney in order for him to settle into that soft, unguarded expression. He imagines feeling like he could do anything at all other than push him away.

“I can, uh,” Jedidiah stumbles, hand still hovering awkwardly between them. “I could wash it for you,” he supplies. “And brush it.” He justifies the offer because he knows Sydney can get tired fighting with his hair, but he knows that it’s all incredibly self-serving.

“You don’t have to do that,” Sydney repeats, for what must be the twentieth time today. His shoulders slump forward and he looks exhausted at the mere thought.

“I know,” Jedidiah lowers his voice to something he hopes is soothing. His fingers brush against Sydney’s shoulders carefully, calculating; the touch settles into something more firm only when he’s sure that Sydney isn’t going to pull away again. “I love you, Syd,” he mumbles, ignoring the way it feels like tearing a gnawing, gaping hole straight through his chest, like tearing open the ugliest parts of himself for anyone to see. He gives a soft kiss to the back of Sydney’s head for emphasis. “I just want to help you feel better, okay?” 

“That’s...” Sydney’s voice is uncharacteristically blank when he talks again, and he doesn’t meet Jedidiah’s eyes. Still, he shrugs the rest of his hair back and out of his face, then adjusts himself so he’s got his back facing Jedidiah’s chest. Sydney’s shoulders tense and then slump forward as he lets out a long breath from his nose. “Okay. Go for it.”

As soon as he’s given permission, Jedidiah taps the hand holding the brush; he’s aware of every point of contact as he takes it from Sydney. He grabs a strand of hair and starts near the bottom, carefully brushing down through each little tangle. Sydney lets out a soft huff through his nose and closes his eyes as he rests his chin on his knees. With his eyes closed and content like this, he looks perfect. Jedidiah thinks he could die happy as long as it would never go away - though he suspects voicing that to Sydney would have the opposite effect. So instead he focuses on brushing through his hair until he can run the brush through without any tugging, being careful in the meantime not to hurt Sydney.

It takes longer than Sydney would usually spend on it, and toward the end Jedidiah suspects he’s starting to get antsy. He looks over his shoulder to glance at Jedidiah more than a few times, and it only makes him more aware each time he fumbles with the brush; he deems the task “done enough” by the third time it clatters against the shower floor.

At the very least, he can easily move his hands through it, which means soap should be an easy next step.

“I’m gonna wash it for you,” he mumbles, still running his hands through Sydney’s hair. Jedidiah finds it far too easy to indulge himself when he can justify it. “If that’s alright.”

Sydney hardly moves enough to nod his head. 

The wall of the tub is startlingly cold when Jedidiah uses it to pull himself into a standing position, and he’s suddenly back to being over-aware of his own body and the space he’s taking up. He grabs a collection of soaps off the shelf and the detachable showerhead, then lowers himself back to a crouch as quickly and unceremoniously as he can, doing his best - which it turns out, is very poorly - to keep the water out of his eyes and in the tub. He figures it’s a good thing he laid a towel out, at least. 

Jedidiah tests the water temperature before slowly tilting in back toward Sydney, despite the fact that it’s been seconds since he felt it and he’s pretty sure this shower doesn’t even really get hot enough for Sydney, most of the time; he used to never go a single shower without complaining to Jedidiah about it.

As it is now, he leans his head back into the water, nearly leaning back into Jedidiah’s chest. He doesn’t have time to be flustered by it, too preoccupied watching the water spiral down Sydney’s hair, following the loose ringlets. He squeezes the side of Sydney’s arm in a half-hug and presses a kiss to the top of his hair. He waits for Sydney to relax into the touch before he pulls away to grab the soap.

Sydney makes a noise of complaint when Jedidiah moves the water away, but makes no effort to grab the showerhead himself. Instead, he leans even further into the touch as Jedidiah runs his soapy hands through his hair, sighing and relaxing into the touch.

When he’s finished lathering the soap through his hair, Sydney turns his head back to steal a quick kiss. The angle is awkward and mostly unsuccessful, but the intent is there.

It startles Jedidiah enough for him to pull away after a quick reciprocation.

Sydney turns around fully and leans in to kiss him again. Jedidiah lets him, but he keeps one hand on his shoulder and gently pushes him away when he starts to get too… insistent.

“Um, hi? Sydney?” He laughs half-incredulous as Sydney moves to nip at his neck. “Not that I’m complaining, but uh, what…”

“Didn’t you want to?” He grins, but doesn’t make eye contact; he looks off to the side and then, much to Jedidiah’s horror, down .

Jedidiah shrieks and, without thinking, pushes Sydney off of him.

“That’s not…!” Sydney flinches, either at how loud his voice is or at the rejection. He gives Jedidiah a wide-eyed stare like he’s trying to look for an explanation, and Jedidiah can’t stand that his brain won't work enough to even finish his sentence. “Why did you-” he stops. He definitely doesn’t want to finish that sentence. “I was just… it’s not that I don’t want to- or, not that I’m opposed, I guess- I just wasn’t expecting-”

Sydney huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Right, you weren’t expecting it when you got in the shower with me.” Jedidiah flinches, and notices the way Sydney tenses in response. “I didn’t mean-”

“... No. I wasn’t.” he asserts. His stomach is wrapping itself in familiar guilty knots.  “I’m not- I’m not expecting anything- or, or trying to get something out of you. I just want to help you take a shower . I just want to help , Sydney.”

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t you?” Jedidiah snaps.

“...what?”

Jedidiah sighs. He squeezes his eyes shut because he finds it impossible to be upset with Sydney while looking him in the face. “You’re going to say you didn’t mean it like that. So then how did you mean it, Sydney?”

When Jedidiah looks at him, Sydney blinks like he isn’t sure of the answer himself.

“Sorry,” Sydney mutters. He fidgets with the showerhead and purposely avoids making eye contact with Jedidiah. “I guess I kinda did mean it like that… But I didn’t mean… Sorry, I’m not… trying to say that you’re… making me feel like that. I just don’t get it .” He laughs, bitter and condescending. “You just want to help me shower? Why?”

Jedidiah isn’t sure what, exactly, to say.

He doesn’t have a reason other than that it just feels right , that some gut instinct or hardwired habit makes it feel more natural and vital than breathing. He doesn’t know how to say that without sounding crazy, so instead he says, “Because I know you have a hard time with it.”

It feels as close as he can get to the truth.

Sydney laughs again. It sounds like giving up. “You must think it wasn’t even worth it to bring me back like this.”

“I- what?”

The words wrench themselves between the cogs in his brain. He can’t make sense of them.  He laughs sharply at the sheer absurdity of it, and then stops when the meaning catches up to him.

“What do you- Sydney, you can’t possibly mean that.”

Sydney just shakes his head as he lowers it into his hands.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” The accusation is untethered and desperate. It echoes in Jedidiah’s chest and reverberates throughout his body.

“No. No, of course not-”

“I can’t even shower by myself. How are you not sick of me?”

“Because I love you, Sydney. Come here.” He pulls Sydney into a hug, no longer caring that they’re both naked. Everything else seems practically irrelevant when Sydney is upset. “It’s… look, Sydney… I can’t be- I know I can't be… entirely responsible for you. Even though- even if I want to. I know that. I tried , Sydney. Not like that, but- I spent so much time worrying, and thinking if I could just fix things- God knows I tried, and- and I failed , I just- I just made you miserable, and I made myself miserable and… and…”

“Jedidiah-”

Sydney tries to cut him off, but if he stops talking he knows he’ll start thinking. He doesn’t want to think about everything he’d done trying to keep Sydney safe.

“And I know I can’t do everything, Sydney, I know that, I just… want to do what I can. Because I love you, and- and I love taking care of you… I just… want to help you feel good.”

Sydney is quiet for a few moments. He tightens his grip on Jedidiah’s shoulders before leaning back to study him. He opens and closes his mouth twice before deciding on saying, “You know, it’s really hard to think you don’t mean anything by it when you talk to me like that.” His voice has a low, teasing lilt and he leans in ever so slightly.

Jedidiah squeezes his hands at Sydney’s hips and tries to ignore the fluttering in his chest.

“Later, if you want. You know I love to take care of you. But right now that means a shower, first.”

“Mm.” Sydney hums, leaning his forehead into Jedidiah’s shoulder. “That seems like a poor order of operations.”

“Well if you don’t want to…”

Jedidiah yelps as Sydney bites into his shoulder in retaliation.

“Okay, okay!” he surrenders with a laugh. “Now here, I can’t do much to help when you’re on top of me like this.”

He uses the hand on Sydney’s waist to turn him around, ignoring the suggestive face and giggling from Sydney as he does so. The water and soap swirl together in mesmerizing patterns on the floor of the bathtub as Jedidiah rinses the shampoo from Sydney’s hair.

As he gathers the conditioner on his hands and rubs them together, Sydney begins to tell a story. Jedidiah slows the movements of his hands just so he can better listen.

Do you remember when we were kids, and we would play house?”

“Until you made us have a ‘funeral’ for it and drowned our child in a lake? I remember.”

“Well, yes, but no.” Sydney laughs, sounding tired and bemused. “One time, your room got infested with maggots from one of our children , and Lucille made us flush them all down the toilet.”

Jedidiah frowns. “Yeah, that was… one of the more memorable times.”

“You cried when you found out that would kill them,” Sydney mumbles, tilting his head for Jedidiah to better reach the sides of his hair. “Even though you refused to touch them. You probably cried just as much that they even got on your stuff.”

“Well yeah, but they didn’t deserve to die. ” Sydney laughs again, though Jedidiah doesn’t think he’s said anything funny.

The rest of the shower goes much the same, with Sydney recalling seemingly random stories from their childhood, his gaze growing distant like he’s living them out again in his head. Occasionally Jedidiah chimes in with his own - just to watch Sydney’s mouth twitch into a smile as his eyes light up in recognition - but for the most part he keeps his focus intent on getting Sydney clean. He presses gentle pressure into Sydney’s back as he scrubs it off and is rewarded with a long, satisfied groan cutting off a story about one of the camp-wide capture the flag contests from their childhood. He remembers the day well enough himself - at least enough to know that there hadn’t been much of note.

Sydney practically melts into Jedidiah’s hands, and he takes advantage of the opportunity to run them up his arms and press lightly into each of Sydney’s shoulders. It gets another sigh from him as Jedidiah places a kiss on his head.

“I don’t have bones anymore,” Sydney mumbles. With the amount of dead weight he’s leaning onto Jedidiah, it might just be the truth. “You have to move me.”

“Convenient timing,” Jedidiah teases back.

“Mm.” Sydney wraps his arms behind himself, looping around Jedidiah’s neck. “You removed them with your magic hands.”

He laughs. “Is that so?”

“They don’t hurt anymore,” Sydney shrugs. “Must be.”

“Shouldn’t that mean you can move fine now?”

Sydney shakes his head. “It’s your job now. You’re taking care of me, remember?”

Jedidiah just laughs louder and wraps an arm around Sydney.

It isn’t hard to reach around him and turn off the water, and despite his teasing Sydney only takes a slight prompting to stand with him. But when Sydney moves to leave the shower, Jedidiah decides to play into it; he encourages Sydney to stay and instead brings the towel to him, wrapping it securely around his shoulders, and offering a second for his hair. He lets Sydney wrap his hair up while he dries off with his own towel, mostly because he doesn’t want to risk accidentally tangling or pulling on it.

When Sydney is done drying he lays his towel on the side of the tub and sits on it, sending a glance to the clean clothes on the other side of the room.

“I got it,” Jedidiah says with a kiss to the top of his head. He doesn’t give Sydney time to object before going to grab each of their clothes, ignoring the dripping trail he leaves despite his best efforts to dry off.

Sydney holds his hands out for his clothes, then giggles when he realizes the shirt Jedidiah is fumbling to turn right-side-out is his.

“You know I was just kidding. I can do it myself.”

“No, no, I can. Let me.”

Sydney’s face starts to shift into a frown and Jedidiah can’t help but tack on a quiet “please,” that he fears is more revealing than he intends it to be. Sydney hesitates. For a horrible second it feels like confirmation that this has all been too much , until Sydney rolls his eyes with a smile and holds his arms up.

“Hurry up, then. It’s getting cold.”

Jedidiah gets the shirt on easy, but he has to talk Sydney into standing so he can step into his underwear and sleep shorts. He isn’t much actual help for that part, other than acting as a brace for Sydney when he loses balance.

He shuffles on his own pajama shirt and boxers as quickly as he can manage after, because Sydney is unfortunately right about the cold. Then, he grabs his glasses from the counter, blinking a few times to let his vision adjust.

Sydney looks tired, is the first thing Jedidiah notices - more so than he had thought - but he has a small, content smile that burns bright like pride in Jedidiah’s chest. He wants, so badly, to trap the feeling in a jar, just so he has something to look at on his worse days. Because that isn’t possible, he buries his face in Sydney’s neck and tries to hold onto the moment for as long as possible, ignoring the way his glasses dig into his face, and hopes he can memorize the touch.

“Let me braid your hair?” Jedidiah asks when he pulls away. It’s mostly just so he can stay in his space longer, but Sydney’s hair is tickling the sides of his face rather unpleasantly, and he’s sure it’ll be ten times worse for him when he lets it down.

Sydney hums and nods slowly. “That’d be nice.”

Jedidiah carefully gathers the full mushrooms and leaves from the pile by the sink and grabs a hairbrush with one hand, then laces the other with Sydney’s. They walk back to their room without anything else to say. Sydney swings their arms and Jedidiah keeps his eyes fixed on their interlocked hands as he does, and it seems like the only thing that matters. 

The braid Jedidiah does is clunky and simple. It takes a little over ten minutes, sat at the end of the bed together in relative silence, maybe longer because he tries to clumsily incorporate Sydney’s collection of plants and fungi. It isn’t anywhere as pretty as it could be, but Sydney looks as perfect as ever. Jedidiah presses a kiss to the back of his head when he’s finished.

“There. Now it won’t bother your neck so much.”

Sydney turns to look over his shoulder. “Wow,” he mumbles, smiling through a yawn. “You really think of everything.”

"Well, I- uh- I just-"

"Just take the compliment, Jedidiah.” Sydney huffs, settling back into the pile of pillows that take up Sydney’s side of the bed. 

"Oh, uh- Right. Okay. No, I mean, um- thank you?"

"Mm. Close enough,” he mumbles. His eyes are already closed, but he reaches out and makes a grabbing motion with both hands that is, if you ask Jedidiah, unfairly adorable. “Now get over here. I'm tired."

That , he can do.

Jedidiah shuffles up beside Sydney, setting his glasses on the bedside table and immediately wrapping his arms around him. Sydney latches on immediately as well, then rolls so Jedidiah is on top of him.

“We can sleep like this tonight?” he asks half-coherent.

“Sydney, your back-”

“Shhh. ‘s not even the problem right now.” 

“Syd-”

“Please?” Sydney asks again. He really isn’t intending on giving Jedidiah much of a choice, either, with the way he’s clinging to him. “It just sounds nice.”

“O-okay,” Jedidiah concedes. “Okay, fine, but you better tell me if your back is hurting tomorrow.”

"Why? So you can never let me do this again? S’ you can say told ya so?"

Jedidiah bites his cheek. “I mean, I will probably say I told you so.” Sydney groans into his chest and he laughs. “But actually, I am also a qualified nurse. I could give you a massage.”

“Technically neither of us are qualified,” Sydney mumbles against his collarbone. Jedidiah’s heart skips at the contact.

“Guess you don’t want that massage then,” he teases.

“Nooo…” Sydney trails off into another yawn. “Maybe I’ll tell you then.”

“Yeah?” Jedidiah asks.

“Mm. Goodnight, love.”

“Oh- um. Goodnight, Sydney.”