Saturday night was a blur, and Leroy could only remember the supercharged feeling and the overwhelming warp that was the sexual chemistry between him and Zachary. 

     They had gone to bed sometime around eleven in the evening, and how Leroy was coasting between being half awake and dead asleep in the early hours of the morning. During the periods when he would be somewhat awake, he would reach out for Zachary—touching the man's arm, or tracing the sharpness of his face, and times, when he was dead asleep his mind, would refresh him on the previous night's events, reliving their kisses and touches.

     In one of the brief half-awake trances, Leroy had reached out for Zachary, and the man just wasn't there. Leroy frowned, reaching out further. And just like before, it was just the feel of a hard mattress covered in a bedsheet. The younger man opened his eyes to confirm what his hands had told him. He got up quickly, hurrying out of the room just to find Zach sitting on the sofa in the living room, heaving with every breath.

     "Zach?" the younger man asked, squinting at the man in front of him, who seemed to be struggling to breathe. "What's wrong?"

     Zach looked over at Leroy, opening his mouth and then closing it back again before shaking his head. "Nothing."

     "Don't do that. What's wrong?" Leroy asked in a stern voice, approaching the sofa. "Let me help."

     "I don't know, not breathing well. I feel like I'm going to pass out when I get up," Zach admitted, and Leroy's eyes went wide.

     "I can go back home and grab my mum's car..." he said, looking up at the clock. "Fuck, how far is the nearest emergency room?"

     Zach shook his head. "I don't need an emergency room. I just need something to eat and some rest."

     Leroy looked back down at Zach, who was heaving, rocking, and shivering all at once. "Zach, you need to go to the emergency room."

     "I don't—"

     "I'm taking you to the emergency room," Leroy said, ignoring Zach. He walked over to the kitchen, grabbing a frozen dinner before putting it in the microwave. When it was done, he picked it up and dropped it on the coffee table with a fork.

     "Have this. Have me on the dial if you need me. I'm going to run back home for a bit and come get you, okay?" Leroy said, rushing to the door and putting on his shoes.

     He looked ridiculous, of course, in Zach's pajama pants that were too big for him, and the shirt he hadn't changed from yesterday, but that wasn't important now.

     "I'll be back in twenty. Hold on," the younger man whispered before opening the front door and heading out. He was back in the next half hour with a car, and soon he was helping Zach into his wheelchair and into the car.

     "Hold on, I'll try my best to get you there as fast as I can without getting a ticket," Leroy said, looking at Zach who now had his eyes closed and was still breathing heavily. Leroy gave him a concerned look when he didn't get a response but swallowed his worry as pulled out of the driveway.

     The drive to the local emergency room didn't take too long, but since it was the weekend there were more people than usual, and Leroy had to wait with Zach for over an hour until their number was called. At one point, a nurse offered a nebulizer when Leroy started to complain a little too much. Eventually, Zach was seen by a doctor, and all that was really recommended was rest after he got an IV drip. Zach had—in practical terms—been exhausted.

     The whole situation frazzled Leroy, but Zach acted like it was business as usual, eating food from a hospital cafeteria tray as the IV ran out. 

     The ride back to Zachary's place was painfully quiet. The older man had his forehead pressed against the passenger seat's glass as he looked out into the moving street. Leroy was silent, not doing much but giving Zach the occasional look when he had the chance.

     The silence was killing them both, but neither knew where to start. Zach was more embarrassed than anything, and Leroy was flustered, still absorbing all the shock and panic from the Sunday morning.

     "Zach?" the younger man called out when he realized that he'd been driving them for over fifteen minutes without a word. "Umm, how are you doing?"

     The older man blinked for a bit, sighing against the window's glass before making himself sit up straight on the passenger seat. "I feel okay," the man said, shrugging under the branded hospital blanket they'd been allowed to take with them. "I'm just a little—embarrassed?" The pause between his words made Leroy raise a brow as he shifted gears.

     "Embarrassed?"

     "Yeah, I didn't want you ever to see that..." the older man trailed. "I thought I was fine. I felt a bit bad, but I didn't think I would crash like that..."

     Leroy blinked, coming to a realization. "This is normal?"

     The older man sighed, fidgeting under the blanket. "It happens once in a while—if I don't take care of myself—"

     "So, it's normal? Common? Expected?" Leroy was laying out our synonyms now, and Zachary looked around as he started to feel claustrophobic having nowhere to run.

     "Well," the older man started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess it is normal enough."

     There was silence in the car after that.

     "I see..." the younger man trailed, frowning to himself. "What do you do when it happens? When your sister isn't home..."

     Zachery shrugged. "I wait for it to go away. I eat something. I sleep—"

     "That's what you do when you have a cold, not when it looks like you're dying..." Leroy trailed, cutting the older man off. "Don't just sit home and wait for yourself not to faint. What the hell? Do you know how what you said sounds?"

     Zachary wasn't sure if he was being scolded or sympathized with. Maybe Leroy was just stressed out, or he heard something from a nurse who had overblown the situation. Zach Looked over at the younger man, noticing how tight his grip on the steering wheel had been.

     "Well, it's been my life for as long as I remember, so maybe I don't know what it sounds like," Zach said, watching as Leroy's grip softened on the wheel. "I get sick, Leroy, and if I went to the doctor every time, I felt a little bad I'd be in the emergency room every other business day. I had to learn to handle some of it at least..." Zach trailed, sighing a bit. "Also, I would have called a cab if I thought I absolutely needed to see a doctor. It's just chronic pain and exhaustion, there's nothing you can really do but take care of yourself and hope it goes away if you throw enough pain meds at it."

     "We didn't talk for a bit, and I got careless. I cried a lot and didn't eat normally, or get enough sleep. I also overdid things I was supposed to do in moderation, like staring at my phone or pacing around..." Zach folded his hands under his blanket. "I thought I could avoid crashing, but I did anyway. It's preventable, I just wasn't being self-conscious enough—"

     "So, you don't sleep or eat well for a few days, so you then faint?" Leroy asked, a little confused.

     "I get why it sounds weird, but different people have different tolerance levels. Mine is just extremely poor due to compounding factors. It's why I can't do a lot of things. No one trusted me to go to college in person and actually tough it out. It's fine, I don't think I could have done it either..." Zachary trailed, resting his head on the passenger seat.

     Leroy stayed quiet for a bit, not sure what to say. He didn't want to come off as too worried or personal. He didn't know Zachary very well even though the older man had become such a big part of his life in a short while. Also, he didn't want to upset whatever it was they had by acting like a boyfriend when they were barely even friends with benefits, so he swallowed down all the worry and anxiety about the whole morning and reached out a hand, touching Zach's knee through the ugly hospital blanket.

     The older man looked down, with a puzzled look on his face, but he took his hand from under his blanket to rest it over Leroy's. Their fingers interlocked, and the younger man squeezed his hand.

     "I know you know yourself better than I do, but if you ever need a ride to the hospital or just need someone to be at home with you while you pull yourself together, you can always call me—"

     Zach's gaze softened at the younger man's words. "Leroy—"

     "Even when I'm at work, you can call me. I'll come to get you," Leroy said, not letting Zach finish. "It's okay. I want to help you handle it."

     Zach nodded, looking down at their entwined bass. "Leroy."

     "Hmm?"

     "I'm sorry for scaring you," Zach mumbled under his breath, and the younger man smiled, nodding his head.

     "It's okay. It's not your fault," Leroy said, pulling his hand away so he could change the gear.

     The two sat in silence for the rest of the ride, and when Zach was lying in bed that night, he thought about what Leroy had said.

     You can always call me.

     The words echoed in his head as his heart fluttered. He'd always been afraid of asking for help. He hadn't wanted to get his parents out of work when he was in elementary school and middle school. He did not want to bother his teachers when he attended high school and college by constantly asking for accommodations, and he didn't want to inconvenience his sister or make her feel like she couldn't foster her relationship outside the state by being needy.

     He never wanted to feel like a burden, but here was Leroy, strangely upset that he hadn't been asked for help.

     Zach sighed, staring up at the ceiling as he realized that his feelings for Leroy were growing at a rapid pace.