Work Text:
The tightening of the muscles and tendons around his rolling wrists initiated a sensation akin to a hug. Sensory memories arose of comforting hands caressing his upper arms. Those same hands were cupped around his overstimulated brain, soothing the sensitive soft tissue. So it felt.
He, of course, knew how impossible it was to cradle a live person's brain. But he struggled to come up with another explanation of how it felt to move in ways others gave him perplexed looks for.
Although the movements provided some relief, he was quickly overcome with a much more powerful feeling. It was as though someone had twisted and squeezed the energy from his muscles like soapy water from a dishcloth. His limbs felt heavy.
Suddenly the case was much less interesting. Taking a seat at the table in front of the white board he was working on, he buried his face in his hands and let out a sigh.
With the cessation of his self-stimulating wrist rolls, Spencer felt his focus splinter off into the various discomforts of his body. He stretched his legs beneath the table in an attempt to ease the aching of his knees, only to find that there was a stiffness in them that contributed to the pain. His head was throbbing, though the accompanying headache had yet to settle in. He wondered if the AC had been turned off until he felt an annoyingly familiar wetness between his legs. He clenched his hands against his face.
He wondered when July had become August, as there was simply no way an entire month had gone by since his period's last occurrence. He dropped a hand from his face and peeked at the watch on his wrist. "Fuck," he muttered. It was August 20th. Exactly twenty-eight days since the first day of his last menses.
With a sigh heavier than the first one, he used what little strength he could muster to get out of his chair and head to the restroom.
~
"Where you headed, Pretty Boy?"
"I'm out early," Spencer replied as he sluggishly gathered his jacket and messenger bag. "Not feeling well." He didn't look up from his task, but he could sense Derek's eyebrows shift into a concerned furrow. "I'll be alright. I just need to get some rest."
Having gathered his things, he quickly turned to head out in an attempt to avoid more questions. He had turned too quickly.
Somehow he'd landed in Derek's arms, even though he could have sworn they had been at least a foot away from each other before things went dark for a brief moment. He decided that detail was irrelevant as he sank into Derek's warmth and strength. Tears rushed to his eyes, but he didn't let them fall.
"Let me take you home."
~
"Did you really think I was going to just drop you off and leave you here by yourself?" Derek sat with his mouth ajar in disbelief as he watched Spencer toweling at his wet hair.
"No, I guess not," Spencer offered weakly. "Though I was kind of hoping you would." He tossed the towel into the laundry bin and made his way over to the couch opposite the one Derek was sitting on. He plopped down on it and wrapped himself up with the oversized blanket draped across the sofa's back as though he were filling inside of a burrito.
"Ouch."
"I didn't mean it like that." Spencer sank further into the sofa as he relished the warmth and soft coziness of the blanket. "I just…get really miserable when my period's here. And I kind of don't want you to see."
Derek got up from his seat and found himself sitting on the sliver of sofa left by the Spencer Blanket Burrito. He tousled Spencer's still-damp hair. "I can understand that. But I'm here for you and I want you to feel better." He looked deeply into Spencer's eyes, even though they were dancing hard as ever to avoid prolonged contact. "What can I do?"
Spencer thought for a moment, wiggling his toes in an attempt to jumpstart his brain out of the fog it had settled into ever since he nearly fainted in the office.
The fog was too thick. He couldn't think past his aches and hypersensitivity. A few sleepy blinks later, he had a fleeting memory of the sense he experienced earlier in the day. With a vocabulary limited by intense, quick onset fatigue, Spencer communicated his need the best way he could manage. He shimmied his arms out of the Blanket Burrito and held them out as an invitation for Derek to wrap him up as a second tortilla.
Derek obliged with a smile. He grabbed Spencer and situated their bodies so that the two of them could cuddle more comfortably. Shortly after tightly wrapping his arms around his friend, he fell asleep to the soft snores coming from the young man laying on his chest.