All Is Hell That Ends With ‘Fair’(Closed ~ One-on-One ~ Rated a possible M)

“Anxiety? It does that to you.” He murmured, putting a plate filled with the rolls into the microwave. He walked over to talk to Cyrus while he waited for them to warm.
“Do you have ways to help you calm down?”

"Well… Yeah I know," Cyrus sighed, rubbing at his face, "And well… yes and no. I do have some ways to calm down, but not reliably. They don't work every time, unfortunately."
He bit his lip.
"It's bad, isn't it?"

Marcus sighed softly and stood in front of Cyrus. He cupped the others face and looked him in the eye. “I’m not going to lie to you. It is pretty bad. I wish I could help you more, love. I hate to see you so shaken and uncomfortable.”
He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Cyrus’s nose. “I’ll get those meds I promised you… they might help.”

"Thank you," Cyrus murmured, "I can only hope that'll do it."
He reached up to run a hand through Marcus' hair.
"I'm sorry you have to see me like this. Usually I'm at least able to save the worst of it for when I'm alone, but… well… since I have you, I'm not spending much time alone anymore. And I'm comfortable around you, so you get to see a lot that most people don't."
He frowned.
"My mother tried to get me to see a psychiatrist when I was a child, but my father doesn't really… understand mental illness. He's always seen my anxiety as cowardice, and- and… Dear god, how that fight went…"
He shook his head to dismiss the thought.
"Things have only become worse."

“I hope they help…” he murmured, studying Cyrus’ face with a small sigh at the touch from the other.
“It’s alright, love. I’m glad I’m able to see this side of you. I want to get to know all of you. Even the parts that are hard to watch or often hidden.” Marcus smiled weakly, sitting down next to Cyrus and slipping his hand into the other’s.
“Abusive parents don’t understand it because they don’t want to admit that there could be something wrong with a person… because they’re usually the one with the mental illness to begin with.”

“True…” Cyrus sighed, “Marcus. I’m glad we can talk like this. I know the subject is tough, but… you make me feel more open and comfortable.”
He squeezed Marcus’ hand affectionately, but the trembling only became more evident when he tried.
“That said, I know you’ve been through a lot too. If you have things you need to get off your chest, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

“I’m glad I do. That’s what I want to do. Make you feel comfortable.” Marcus kissed Cyrus’s hand softly, wishing he could stop the trembling.
“I- well… I’ll try. There’s a lot I don’t want to visit again but it hurts to keep it in… and I’m embarrassed by it. By a lot of it actually.”

"It doesn't have to be all at once," Cyrus soothed, "And of course, only as you're ready."
He gave a weak smile, still desperately trying to hear through the blood pounding in his ears. He was horribly uncomfortable, but he didn't want to complain about it.

“Thank you, Cyrus. It means a lot.” He sighed softly, rubbing out his palms. “I want to be comfortable around you.” He sat down, leaning against the other.
“How are you doing?”

“I’m doing okay,” Cyrus lied, gently reaching out a hand to touch Marcus.
God, the shaking was driving him crazy. There was too much going on in his head for him to wrap his mind around.

“I love you, Cyrus.” He murmured, leaning into the others touch. He groaned when the timer went off for their food, unwilling to leave the comfort of the other.

“I love you too,” Cyrus whispered.
He sighed a little bit when the timer went off. He didn’t want Marcus to get up either.

Marcus huffed softly, pressing his face to the crook of Cyrus’ neck. “I don’t wanna get up, love. Can I stay here?” He asked gently, giggling softly. “Food can always wait.”

“Yeah, let’s let them sit for a minute anyway. They’re probably a bit hot to eat anyway,” Cyrus reasoned, looking for any excuse to stay there.
He held onto Marcus’ arm.

Marcus didn’t move an inch, instead breathing in the scent of the other male next to him with a small smile. He pulled his head back slightly, taking Cyrus’s hands. “I’m not going to leave, don’t worry.” He murmured, referring to the tight grip on his arm.

"Alright," Cyrus breathed softly, "Thank you…"
He realized he was clenching his jaw really hard, and it kind of ached. What if Marcus did leave? But really leave. It didn't even have to be of his own volition. What if he was killed, or subject to torment worse than death at the hands of Marx, and taken away from Cyrus forever?
"Sorry, I didn't mean to-" he managed, referring to how hard he'd accidentally grabbed the other's arm, when it was really meant to be more loving.

“Anything for you. I like to be with you and help you. You’re my better half,” he purred, ruffling Cyrus’s hair with care. He remained slightly oblivious to the other’s worry but could tell something was off.

“It’s alright, love. I don’t mind, are you feeling tense still?” Marcus asked, concern filling his dark green eyes. “Do you want to cuddle for a little bit? That helps me settle down.”

"No, I'm okay mostly," Cyrus lied through his teeth once again.
He'd shown enough weakness for the day. Last thing Marcus needed was to hear him complaining about how sick he felt when it was really his own fault.
"That said, I won't refuse cuddles," Cyrus finished with a halfhearted smile.

He didn’t believe Cyrus was really okay but he wouldn’t press. That made things worse, he found, as it always led to some sort of abuse or trauma for him.
Regardless of that, he opened his arms up and patted his lap. “C’mere, cuddles will help. They’re effective.” He flashed a small, musing smile. “It’ll be good for you. Let me take care of you.”

Cyrus' gaze softened.
"You would really?" he asked.
When was the last time someone had offered to actually take care of him? He really had to search his brain for that one.
He leaned into Marcus' lap, taking in his warmth and love greedily. It was nice to be looked after for once in his life. A slight flush passed over his cheeks.

“Of course I would.” He hummed brightly, bumping their noses together with a happy sound. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”
Marcus was fully serious. He would do everything he could to help Cyrus even if Marx was around. He would go against everything.

"Thank you, love," Cyrus murmured, "But do know that I'm here too. I will always help you how I can."
He placed a hand over Marcus' heart and became acutely aware of how much faster his own was beating.

Marcus nodded gently as he placed a hand over Cyrus’s. His eyes slipped shut while he reveled in how loving the action had been.
Cyrus was gentle. He was soft. He never grabbed or yanked or forced Marcus into any position he didn’t like.
“I know… when the time is right, I’ll tell you more about my trauma.” He murmured gently, trying to still his breath so Cyrus could feel his heart beat.
“Right now I’m just happy you’re staying with me… you haven’t left me or asked too much of me or even tried to challenge my trauma.” Marcus let his fingers trace the hand against his chest, rumbling happily at how strong it felt.

Cyrus let out a soft, happy sigh.
"Trauma is… it's not something you just get over," he murmured, "I understand that, and I also understand that people handle it differently. You're not as open as me, and that's okay. I'll still be here waiting when you're ready to share."
He breathed, trying to take steadier and deeper breaths to calm himself more and slow his pounding heart.
"And just know, there's nowhere I'd rather be."

Marcus pushed his face into Cyrus’s neck, grinning softly to himself. “God you make me so happy~ I can’t believe I met you by chance.” He hummed, kissing the spot his lips met.

He paused suddenly, frowning. “Your heart is beating really fast… are you sure you’re okay?”

"Yes," Cyrus lied, "I'm okay."
It was impulse at this point. He felt like he was weirdly closing off, which led him to be less honest than he usually would've liked.
I'm fine, I'm fine… There's nothing wrong. Why do I feel like I just ran a marathon?
He tilted his head, exposing his neck a little more so Marcus could more comfortably lay his head there.
"I mean, I think it was a matter of time before we crossed paths," Cyrus said, "But we are very lucky that it was in this way."

“Are you really?” He asked again, biting his lip. He didn’t move, however, remaining in the crook of the other’s neck. “I worry… About you.”

He pressed a few more kisses to Cyrus’s neck, sighing softly. “I’m glad we met in the way we did then. I much prefer us together.”

Cyrus fell silent, taking in the softness of Marcus' touch. He kind of shook his head. After several seconds of silence, his voice cracked a bit as he chose to speak again.
"I'm not sure if I've been okay in a long time, to be fair."

Marcus rubbed soft circles into Cyrus’s back, nuzzling him with a soft hum. “I know… it’s hard… I understand… I want to help, to take away the pain…” he murmured, mumbling softly. “I love you more than you could understand.”

The only way to end this pain is by dying… Cyrus thought, But no. I couldn't…
"I-I know," Cyrus murmured, "And you're doing great. At least as much as I think one person ever could, and more."