Archive of Our Own ^beta

Schlatt is a very easily overwhelmed man.

It's normal, he swears. Everyone gets overwhelmed in social situations. He's just a bit more sensitive than others.

Small things could set him off, like his shirt being too tight, his friends touching him a bit too much, anything and everything being just slightly off.

The feeling would build and build until he couldn’t take it anymore, usually resulting in a sort of… There was no other way to put it: a meltdown. 

But that was embarrassing. Nobody wants to deal with all 230 pounds of a grown man whimpering and sobbing like a child because some noise was too loud. So usually, he would leave for a quiet spot, like his room, and break down in private.

It had always been that way, and he'd always managed to take care of himself. He didn't need the pity, nobody had to know. 

He had thought about telling Ted before, especially when they had gotten together. He didn’t want Ted going into this blind, agreeing to be with Schlatt, not knowing just how much of a handful he could be.

In the end, he hadn’t said anything. It was selfish, but he had wanted to enjoy his time with Ted. He wanted this for so long, he’d do anything not to lose it.

Besides, as he's said, he could handle it! 

It wasn’t that big a deal, he thinks, when he books the hotel stay in the middle of one of the loudest and most crowded cities in the States. It wouldn't even be an issue, he tells himself, conveniently leaving out the headphones he had bought on a bad night, the ones he uses when it's just him in his room and the noise is too much.

It would be fine.

_____

It was supposed to be a fun trip.

Most Expensive Hotel in New York. A casual day, just Him, Ted, Tucker, and Trevor, filming and relaxing.

But it didn’t really work out that way.

For starters, it was raining. Each droplet that hit his skin felt like he was being burned. His shirt was damp from the water falling from the sky, and he was uncomfortable, to say the very least. It didn’t help that he’d had to stand out on the balcony for many, many camera shots.

The elevator was clunky, stopping several times on the wrong floor. The already-confined space seemed to grow smaller each time it stopped and rattled around. 

They had realized once the elevator finally dropped them on the right damn floor just how shit the place was for being so, so expensive. Everything looked cheap or tacky, and some things just straight up broke. 

On top of that, Schlatt had completely deadbolted the door to their other room shut by accident, locking them out. Instead of this being an easy fix, the hotel had actually needed to replace the entire fucking deadbolt and door.

Ted and Tucker were not helping either. Laughing boisterously and drinking the damn alcohol he had told them not to touch, and overall being two massive dickheads. It was all almost too much. Almost. 

So yeah, he's not in such a great mood, and maybe he's feeling a little overwhelmed. But he could handle himself, he had before in these types of situations; he didn't see why he couldn't now. 

So there he rigidly sat, on the stupid loveseat at the end of the bed that was just too stiff for his liking, trying to form an escape plan just in case he needed to leave. 

Trevor had left earlier in the evening, saying something about leaving some items at home and taking a quick run to the store. Ted and Tucker were idly chatting in the corner, drinking down the alcohol and eating the crackers that Schlatt was sure the hotel would charge for. He shifts, trying to get comfortable. It doesn't work, and he resists the urge to whine. Everything is a blur in front of him, his heart racing.

Someone laughs loudly, and he flinches back on instinct. He can feel the sound reverberating around his head, sharp pain shooting through his skull. His hands instinctively start to fly up to his ears, but he catches himself halfway and pulls them back down again, twisting and wringing his hands together in his lap instead.

Fuck, he can feel himself losing control of the situation, can feel himself slipping away. He needs to get out of there, he needs to leave now-

Clink!

The sharp sound of glass falling from Tucker's grasp and shattering echoes around the room. 

And that's the tipping point for Schlatt. His hands shoot up to cover his ears, his eyes squeezing shut. Soft whimpers leave his lips of their own accord as he curls himself tighter into a ball, his knees meeting his chest.

God, he just wants it all to stop. Everything hurts and it's all too loud and too bright and he can’t do it, he can’t-

A soft hand closes around his wrist, gently tugging. He flinches back sharply, inhaling in shock and fear. He whines as the hands continue tugging, trying to take his own down and away from his ears. The sounds of the room hurt.

“Shhh, Tucker, shut up! Hey, bud, are you okay?”

Schlatt flinches away from Ted’s voice, his only response another whimper. He tries to pull his hands back, bring them up, and shut out the piercing noise. Ted’s own two hands wrapped tightly around his wrists stop him. He panics, breath quickening.

His shirt is suffocating him, and he can feel the scratch of his jeans against his legs every time he so much as shifts in the seat. He violently shakes his head back and forth, breaths coming in short and quick. A sharp keening noise breaks the silence, and it takes him a moment to realize the sound is coming from his own mouth.

Ted’s hands shake slightly from where he grips Schlatt’s, and his eyes widen. He glances over at Tucker with a sharp look that says ‘fucking help me over here?’. Tucker only shrugs stiffly, turning away and continuing his job of cleaning the glass from the wooden floor. 

Ted scoffs. What fucking help that guy was. He turns his focus fully back to Schlatt, who's managed to get his wrists free and is back to clamping his hands over his ears, a few tears falling down his cheeks.

“Schlatt… What's wrong? Just… take your hands away- okay?” Honestly, Ted himself was freaking out. He had never seen Schlatt like this, he didn't know how to help him. Ted’s tone came out nervous, voice shaky, and a bit too loud for the others' comfort. 

Ted was speaking too loudly, and Schlatt honestly wanted this shirt off more than he wanted to breathe at this point. And Ted, just- he wasn't helping! Sure, he was trying, but Ted was just stopping him, frustrating him more, leading him to whimper and shake more frequently. Schlatt wanted everything to stop, so badly he didn't even notice him starting to hiccup and sniffle the word, practically pleading.

Luckily, though, Ted noticed. 

Upon hearing Schlatt's quiet pleas, Ted slowly retreats, taking a deep breath. He needed to calm himself down before he freaked Schlatt out more than the poor boy already was. After a quick breather, he tries again, leaning in again, close enough for Schlatt to hear his whispers, but still keeping a small distance so as not to crowd him. 

“What's wrong?” He whispers this time, keeping his voice as soft as possible. Judging by the way Schlatt sharply moved his hands back to grip and hold his shirt, his shoulders coming up to try and keep his ears blocked, Ted could make an educated guess at what the issue was, or at least part of it. “Is it making you uncomfortable? Your shirt?”

Schlatt's sharp nod was all the confirmation he needed. Ted continues with the soft tone. 

“Let me help you out, okay? Promise I can try to make it better, if you let me.”

More tears well in Schlatt’s eyes. Ted had somewhat understood him, had listened to what he wanted. He hadn’t called him pathetic, or stupid, or told him he was overreacting. He hadn’t said anything bad at all, now that Schlatt thinks.

Schlatt felt so… loved. 

He nods again, shaky fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt, his breath loud in his ears. Ted takes the hint and moves his hand down, slipping his warm fingers under the shirt as gently as he can, careful not to brush them up against Schlatt’s skin. Schlatt flinches a little anyway.

“Let me take this off you then, huh?” Ted sighs softly, fondly. As bad as he wanted to gawk over his beautiful boyfriend when his shirt began lifting to reveal his torso, he’d held back. Ted loved Schlatt enough to know that Schlatt would never want to be oogled at, especially not like this.

Ted keeps his gaze locked on the wall opposite when Schlatt hands him the shirt. He sets the itchy shirt aside, and only then does he look up, glancing over at Tucker and frantically gesturing his fingers in the general direction of Schlatt's usual sweater. Luckily, Tucker gets the hint and fetches it for Ted. He grabs it, tossing the sweater over to Ted swiftly.

Schlatt's hands shake as he reaches out to take the sweater from Ted. He fumbles with the fabric clumsily, everything still too much. It takes him far longer than usual to pull the soft sweater over his head, yet he still manages. The slight bit of relief he feels at the texture change makes it worth it.

Ted finally looks back at Schlatt now he's fully covered, letting out a soft sigh of relief. He slowly brings a hand up to Schlatt’s, halting just before touching him. He meets Schlatt’s eye and quirks a brow. A silent question. Can I touch you right now? Schlatt nods slightly, barely an inclination of his head. Ted grasps Schlatt’s limp hand from where it was resting in his lap and gently intertwines their fingers.

“How about these, bud? Want these off too?” Ted tilts his chin at Schlatt's jeans. Schlatt nods again, wanting nothing more than to disappear. As much as he's relieved that Ted isn't having an extremely negative reaction right now, this was still… embarrassing.

Tucker tosses over a pair of Schlatt’s basketball shorts, and Ted gives one more gentle squeeze to Schlatt's hand before walking back into the kitchen area so Schlatt can change in peace.

Schlatt stands shakily, starting the harrowing process of stripping himself from his jeans. He whines quietly when the denim scratches his legs as he tugs them off. When he finally gets the shorts on, he flops back down onto the couch, pulling his knees to his chest once more. He squeezes his eyes tightly shut, hands over his ears once more, though they're not squeezing like before, just the gentle weight resting against his head.

He notices distantly that his breathing has returned to somewhat normal.

He starts to rock back and forth, starting as a slow and gentle rock, quickly gaining in speed until he's noticeably shifting his weight back and forth, self-soothing. He cracks open his eyes for a second and sees Ted staring. When had he come back into the room? Schlatt quickly stops the motions, stiffening up, hands slowly falling back down to his sides. Ted frowns.

Nobody says anything, Schlatt simply not having the words, and Ted at a loss for them. What do you even say after something like that?

He decides the answer is nothing, sitting down next to him on the loveseat and leaning forward to rest a hand on Schlatt’s shoulder, gently rubbing. Schlatt looks up to meet his eye, and Ted notices just how small the man looks now, oversized sweater on and curled into a ball. Ted smiles sadly.

"Why don't we... relax for the night, yeah? Watch a movie… or we could just sleep? I’ll dim the lights and we can keep the volume down, how does that sound, Schlatt?" Ted asks, voice still as soft as it could be.

Schlatt feels awful for ruining his friend's night with his stupid antics; he really, really does. But…

The offer was tempting, and he was so tired, he can feel exhaustion creeping further into his bones by the second. Schlatt nods slowly, taking a shaky breath before leaning over and letting his head fall down onto Ted’s shoulder. For the first time that night, he thinks he needs the contact. 

Ted thankfully takes the hint, pulling Schlatt closer until he can practically cradle him in his arms, gently scratching at his scalp. He quietly calls to Tucker across the room.

“Hey, can you put on a movie while I help him into bed? A quiet one?” Tucker nods, striding over and grabbing the remote, flicking through the channels quickly, looking for something good.

Ted stands, bringing Schlatt up to stand with him, arms around his shoulders stabilizing. 

“There you go, sweetheart, cmon let's get you into bed, yeah?”

He helps Schlatt wobble over the the bed, pulling back the blankets for him and watching the man fall into the mattress. He lies down next to him, both their backs propped up by the hotel pillows, and tugs up the blankets so their covered. Schlatt settles in, resting his head back on Ted's shoulder. He absentmindedly picks at the skin around his thumb, whining a little when Ted gently tugs his hand free, instead letting Schlatt play with his fingers.

When Ted looks up, Tucker is frowning at them, concerned. Ted just shrugs lightly, scrunching his face at Tucker's choice of movie. Fucking Despicable Me.

“It's like the only thing on.” He huffs, dropping the remote on the nightstand next to Ted and sliding into bed on the other side of Schlatt, “Besides, I think he's already out.”

Sure enough, soft snores can be heard from Schlatt's sleeping form, draped over Ted. Ted sighs, slinking down in bed until he's fully lying, no longer propped up. He presses a soft kiss to Schlatt’s forehead, scratching lightly at his back. Tucker flops one arm lazily across both their torsos before promptly passing out. Ted grabs the remote from the nightstand and clicks off the TV before turning off the lamp and shutting his own eyes.

They'll talk about this later.