Sting woke up to Lector licking his forehead.
"Hey, mister," Sting said, scratching Lector behind the ears, then letting out a soft oof as Happy jumped on his stomach. Frosch meowed plaintively from her spot behind Sting's pillow and he tipped his head up to look at her disapproving glare.
"You're not fooling anybody," Sting said as Lector headbutted him. "I know Rogue fed you before he left for work, you're not getting anything out of me."
Happy mrowled at Sting, turning in circles and then settling into a purring ball on his stomach. Sting sighed, petting Happy as he peeked over at the clock. Was it really 11:30 already?
"Sorry darlings, but if I don't get up, I'm gonna fall back asleep, and then Rogue's gonna come home to a dirty kitchen and give me that look I hate."
Lector meowed again as if in agreement, then hopped off the bed and sauntered out of the room.
Sting gently tipped Happy off his stomach, then stood up and stretched, yawning and peeking out the window. The sun spilled a warm beam across the bed where Sting had been sleeping, and Happy and Frosch both immediately dove for it, tussling for a second before settling next to each other in the light.
There was a sound of keys in the door and Sting frowned, stepping out of the bedroom and looking at the calendar. Everyone but him was supposed to be working today. The door swung open to reveal Gray, whose eyes widened in surprise when he saw Sting.
"Hey, love," Sting said, reaching out and taking Gray's bag from him. Gray didn't say anything, just closed the door behind him.
"Sorry," he said quietly, looking at his feet. "I forgot- I didn't know you were home. I didn't mean to wake you up."
"You didn't," Sting insisted, frowning in concern. Gray never forgot the schedule. "What's wrong?"
Gray wrapped his arms around himself and shook his head. "Just-"
"If you say 'just tired,' I swear," Sting said, sighing and dropping Gray's bag next to the shoe rack. "C'mere." He reached out his arms, but Gray shook his head, taking a step back.
"Sorry," he whispered. "I don't- I can't right now."
"Sweetheart," Sting said gently, pointing to the couch. "Never apologize. You want some tea?"
Gray didn't answer, making his way over to the couch and curling up in the corner. He grabbed a cushion and held it against his chest, resting his chin on it and staring blankly at the TV.
Sting's chest hurt – he wanted nothing more than to pull Gray in his arms and cuddle him. Instead, he made his way back into the bedroom and scooped Frosch out of the beam of sunlight. "Gray needs you," he said apologetically, scratching Frosch's head.
Sting deposited Frosch on the couch next to Gray, and she rubbed herself against his arms, purring so loud that Sting could hear her. Gray looked down at her, slowly releasing his grip on the pillow and running a finger up her nose and over her head.
"Hey," Gray said quietly as Sting backed away. "How's my girl?"
Sting busied himself in the kitchen making tea, and by the time he came back out to the living room, Gray was curled up with the blanket, Frosch purring happily on his lap. Sting handed Gray a cup of tea, and Gray finally looked up at Sting, meeting his eyes.
"I... don't feel good," he said, so quietly that Sting could barely hear him. Sting crouched down next to the sofa, close to Gray but not touching. He didn't say anything – Gray admitting to how he was feeling was big enough, and Sting didn't want to do anything to scare him. "Todd sent me home."
Sting's concern immediately intensified – if it was impacting Gray's work, it was getting bad. He chewed his lip, contemplating texting Rogue. He was better at helping Gray with these moods. Sting had trouble with the not touching – he would obviously never touch Gray if he didn't want it, but Sting's default comfort was hugging or holding hands.
"What can I do?" Sting asked, and Gray shook his head, staring intently at Frosch and running his fingers through her fur. "You wanna talk?"
"I don't know," Gray said, voice shaky with frustration. "I can't... I don't know. It's- something's..." He trailed off, sighing.
"You been taking your meds?" Sting asked gently. Gray nodded, picking at a loose thread on the blanket and refusing to look at Sting. Sting sighed, rocking back on his heels until he was sitting on the floor, back against the coffee table. He desperately wanted to take Gray's hand. "Do you want me to leave for a bit? I can get groceries if you wanna be alone."
Gray shook his head quickly. "Can we... watch something?" Gray asked. Sting could see he was trying hard not to cry, swallowing back tears and rubbing his face with the back of his hand.
"Of course," Sting said, grabbing the remote and holding it out to Gray. "Can I sit here?" He gestured to the spot near Gray, but not close enough to touch him, and Gray nodded.
Gray flipped through several shows on Netflix, finally settling on an episode of Star Trek: Voyager, then pushing himself back into the couch cushions. Sting tried to settle in as well, pulling his phone out of his pocket and hesitating over Rogue's name before shaking his head and putting it back.
Twenty minutes into the episode, Sting felt a tentative touch on the back of his hand. He looked up to see that Gray had shifted toward him, and that his knuckles were brushing Sting's. Gray's mostly-empty gaze was still on the TV, but he was closer now, and the cushion was behind him instead of cutting him off from Sting.
Sting turned his hand, settling it palm-up between them and waiting for Gray to slowly thread their fingers together. The touch calmed some of the tension in Sting's chest, and he relaxed a bit back into the cushions as Gray's fingers gently squeezed his. He felt guilty – this wasn't about him, but it still hurt to watch Gray feel this way.
By the time the episode was over, Gray was pressed up against Sting's side, and Sting could feel him trembling. As the ending music started, Sting let out a soft sigh.
"Can I hug you now?" he asked gently, and this time Gray nodded. "C'mere, sweetheart," Sting said, wrapping his arm lightly around Gray. Gray stiffened for a second, then turned and pressed his face into Sting's chest, shoulders shaking. Sting hated watching Gray cry – not because he was sad, but because he always tried to hold it in, curling in on himself and biting back the sounds like he was ashamed of them.
"'m sorry," Gray said, gripping Sting's shirt tightly. "I dunno what's wrong. I just..."
"It's okay," Sting said, rubbing his thumb comfortingly up and down Gray's arm. "Sometimes I just... I don't know how to help. I'm sorry." He sighed. "I feel like I should know, 'cause you know how to make me better when I'm feeling shitty."
"That's 'cause you make sense," Gray said, voice muffled by Sting's shirt. "'m stupid."
"Gray," Sting admonished gently. He could feel a damp spot forming on his shirt and he hugged Gray tighter, shifting until he was leaning back into the corner of the couch and Gray was resting against his chest. "You're not stupid."
"I feel stupid," Gray insisted quietly as Sting ran his fingers through Gray's hair. "I don't- it's so fucking frustrating." He hesitated, rubbing his eyes.
Sting held his breath. Gray was reminded Sting of a stray cat he'd found as a child – angry and scared and jumpy. Any time Sting had tried to pet the cat (which he'd named Skittles), it had hissed at him or scratched him. Eventually, Oma had come out to the yard and sat quietly with Sting, reading with him in the sunshine, and Sting was amazed when Skittles had slunk over and quietly curled up in his lap.
Gray curled up beside Sting now, tucking his head under Sting's chin and playing with the buttons on Sting's shirt. Sting pressed a gentle kiss to Gray's forehead but said nothing.
After a while, Gray started talking. "I hate this," he said, voice quiet and shaky. "I just... I started crying at my desk today." Sting made a sad sound and held Gray tighter. "I couldn't- I don't even know why, and fuckin Chad c-came in, and I was so embarrassed b-but I couldn't stop, and nothing's wrong but it still hurts."
"Oh, Gray," Sting said softly. Frosch meowed, hopping over Gray's legs and turning several times before settling between them, purring loudly. Gray reached down and scratched her head.
"He wasn't a jerk," Gray continued eventually. "I still feel stupid, but he was... surprisingly understanding. You're a good influence on him." Sting snorted. "'m serious." Gray sighed, pressing his face to Sting's shoulder. "Todd told me to go home, and he wasn't mad or anything, but I still feel stupid. Th-they're always so..."
"Nice?" Sting suggested. "That's not a bad thing, love."
"I know," Gray grumbled. "Just feel dumb."
"Does me telling you that you're not dumb make it better?" Sting asked.
"Not really," Gray admitted. "Sorry. My brain's-"
"Don't say stupid," Sting said softly. "Please."
Gray sighed, taking Sting's hand and tracing patterns on his palm. Sting sighed, chewing his lip and wishing there was something more he could do. An idea slowly came to him, and he looked down at Gray contemplatively.
"Wanna go see Pancake?"
The aquarium was quiet – it was just after lunch, and most people were at work. It was close enough to the apartment that they had walked, and the warm spring breeze had been enough to start to calm Gray's racing mind.
Sting tugged on Gray's hand excitedly as soon as they walked through the door, and Gray's lips curled up in a smile at the excited, childlike expression on Sting's face. This was one of Gray's favorite places to come when the two of them went on dates – sometimes they'd bring Rogue and Natsu here, but often it was just him and Sting.
The soft blue and green light through the aquarium glass washed over Gray and he exhaled, closing his eyes for a second as Sting stopped to peek into the tank at the octopus.
"Look, Herman's feeling grumpy today too," Sting teased gently, pointing to where one tentacle was barely visible through the plants. Gray pretended to be indignant, but slipped his fingers between Sting's and nudged his shoulder. Sting had named all the creatures at the aquarium, and the octopus was named after one of Rogue's crabby uncles.
Sting leaned over and pressed a kiss to Gray's cheek, then looked around and pulled Gray in the direction of the jellyfish exhibit. Nobody else was in the room, and Gray was almost certain Sting had done that on purpose.
"Hey, Squishy," Sting said, stepping up to the glass and pressing his hand against it. The room was dark, and the little jellyfish glowed bright pink and orange as they bobbed through the water. Gray watched their lazy patterns as they floated, his eyes moving between the jellyfish and the enchanted look on Sting's face.
They spent nearly an hour wandering through all the exhibits, with Sting guiding them around the crowds of people with gentle tugs on Gray's hand. Finally they ended up in Sting's favorite area – a large, open pool where several stingrays swam around lazily.
"There he is," Sting said, pointing to a large stingray with dark purple coloring. "Hey, Pancake!" Gray leaned forward, inspecting it.
"How do you know that's him?" he asked.
Sting shrugged. "He's the prettiest."
Gray snorted, leaning in and kissing Sting's temple. Gray had adopted Pancake for Sting for his birthday the year before, after a trip to the aquarium where Sting had excitedly pointed out that 'stingray' was a portmanteau of their names, and was therefore 'their animal.' Since then, Sting had insisted on visiting Pancake at least once a week.
They sat down together on the bench near the water, watching the rays swim back and forth. Gray felt the ache in his chest recede a little as he focused on the patterns of light, the background noise of people passing by, the warmth of Sting's hand in his.
"I love you," Sting said quietly, after they'd been sitting in silence for nearly half an hour. "And you're not stupid. Your brain's just different."
Gray sighed, letting Sting wrap an arm around him. "I know," he said, resting his head on Sting's shoulder. "It just feels like I should be able to… deal with it, y'know? I'm twenty-eight years old, I should have my shit together."
"Mm." Sting kicked his feet out and pressed them against the glass. "Nobody has their shit together."
"Stop being all reasonable," Gray grumbled. He could feel the warmth of tears pressing against the backs of his eyes again, and he swallowed quickly to keep them at bay. He was quiet for a minute, then added, "thank you."
Sting pressed a quick kiss to Gray's cheek, then gestured to the edge of the pool where the purple-finned stingray had approached. "Look, Pancake wants you to feel better too."
The sun was setting as Sting and Gray waited outside the aquarium, and it was almost dinnertime by the time Rogue and Natsu pulled up. Natsu hopped out of the car, reaching out for Gray.
"Hey grum—"
Sting frowned at Natsu over Gray's shoulder, shaking his head and giving Natsu a significant look. Natsu stopped, looking closer at Gray, then nodding in realization.
"C'mere, you," Natsu said, stepping forward and reaching out a hand. Gray hesitated, then let Natsu pull him into an embrace. He sighed, wrapping his arms around Natsu's waist.
"You've got glitter glue on your face," Sting commented, reaching out and running his thumb over Natsu's cheekbone. Natsu laughed, wiping at his face. "Did I miss craft day?"
"Nah, there's plenty of sparkles left for you for tomorrow," Natsu replied, bopping Sting on the nose.
"How's Pancake?" Rogue asked, coming up behind Sting and hugging him. Rogue smelled like ground coffee and cinnamon, and Sting hummed happily, leaning back and kissing his cheek.
"Handsome as usual," Sting replied. "How was work?"
Rogue talked about his day as they all piled into the car – Natsu in the front seat, Sting and Gray in the back. Sting reached out his hand, and smiled when Gray took it and laced their fingers together.
"You ready to go home?" Natsu asked gently, turning to look at them. Gray shook his head.
"Not yet," he said quietly, staring at a hole in his jeans. Rogue glanced at him in the rear-view mirror. "Can we… just drive?" Gray asked.
"Of course, love," Rogue replied as he turned on the car. Natsu grabbed the phone from the console and flipped through a few before hitting play. The soft sound of Arcade Fire filled the car and Gray let out a contented sigh, settling back into the seat and squeezing Sting's hand.
Let's go for a drive, see the town tonight
There's nothing to do but I don't mind when I'm with you
Gray hummed along quietly, closing his eyes and leaning against Sting's shoulder. Sting wrapped an arm around him, pulling Gray close and kissing his temple. Natsu gave them both a fond smile, then started talking quietly with Rogue while the music played in the background.
As Rogue pulled out of the parking lot and toward the harbor, Sting felt a warm sense of contentment settle in his chest. Gray was right – they all had shit – but they also had each other.
"Love you," Sting murmured into Gray's hair. "We've got you. You're gonna be all right."