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Sometimes Scott woke up and immediately knew it was going to be a bad day. Even without moving the ache was burning under his skin and draining his energy away. On days like this he normally laid as still as possible, waited until one of his boyfriends woke up and noticed his pain, soothing him with their presence and helping him with the basic tasks which felt like unscalable mountains when he was like this.
On other days, it wasn't so simple.
Some days he woke up and he felt fine. He climbed out of bed - carefully, even when he wasn't flaring up he was still a bit delicate - and headed downstairs to make his boyfriends breakfast. He would dance around the kitchen and make plans for how he wanted to spend his day.
The pain would creep up on him.
Today was one of those days. He was halfway through cooking the eggs, halfway through making plans to invite his friends to a beach day, when he suddenly needed to sit down before he fell, his legs refusing to work any longer despite the fact they'd been fine a handful of minutes ago. He tried to convince himself he just needed a moment, that he would be able to push through it any second now, but he was still sat there when Tango walked through the door, the eggs burnt on the hob and tears streaming down Scott's cheeks.
“Scott, are you okay?” Tango asked, because he always panicked, regardless of how many times he found Scott like this.
“Yeah, sorry about the eggs.” He blinked hard, trying not to cry harder. It wasn't that it hurt that bad - well, it did. It really fucking did. But that wasn't new. If Scott cried every time he hurt then he'd never stop bawling his eyes out - he was just frustrated. With himself, his body, the entire fucking universe. He felt tricked. He'd wanted a nice day, and for a few short minutes he'd thought that he could have it. That he could be normal today and make breakfast and go to the beach with his friends without having to spend the entire day wrapped in a towel and trying not to move too much.
He was in enough pain that most people would be rushing to the hospital and convinced they were dying. Unfortunately it was just another Tuesday morning for him.
“Oh, Scott.” Tango moved closer, offering him a hug and wrapping him up in his arms when he nodded in agreement. Tango could probably figure out what had happened just from how he found Scott, and he knew from experience how much Scott hated days like this.
“I'll fix breakfast, okay?” he asked, jumping into ‘fix-it’ mode. “Do you want me to help you to the couch? Or would you rather stay and watch me?”
“Stay,” Scott murmured. If anyone asked he'd claim it was because he wanted to keep an eye on Tango, but in reality he just didn't want to be alone and even being in the next room felt like too far.
It didn't take long before Martyn and then Jimmy stumbled down the stairs, clearly tempted down by the smell of cooking bacon. They both had messed up hair and kiss bitten lips, giving Scott an idea of what they had been up to before they decided they wanted breakfast.
“Morning,” Jimmy murmured, his eyes catching on Scott. He watched as Jimmy's face dropped in sympathy, and then lifted again when he remembered that there wasn’t much Scott hated more than feeling like he ruined the mood.
“Bacon?” Martyn asked, wrapping himself around Scott's back as he watched Tango cook. Scott relaxed back into him with a happy sigh, feeling slightly better with something to lean against. The chairs in their kitchen were more like stools, with no back support. Scott kept saying that he'd get some new ones - some that were less painful to sit on when he was flaring up - but he still hadn't.
“Bacon and slightly burnt eggs,” Tango agreed. “Jimmy, can you start on the toast?”
“Crispy eggs, my favourite.” Martyn pressed a kiss to Scott's neck, well aware of why the eggs were burnt even without asking. “Do you want me to grab you any medication?” he asked.
“Please.” Scott couldn't take pills first thing in the morning without throwing up, but he felt awake enough now to risk it.
“Course.” With a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder, Martyn pulled away, heading to the medicine cabinet. Scott bit back the whine which wanted to escape him at the lack of warmth and support. He hadn't noticed how much Martyn's touch had been helping until it was gone.
It was only a moment until Jimmy took Martyn's place, resting his chin gently on Scott's head and humming quietly.
“My turn to have Scott cuddles,” he announced, rubbing his hands up and down Scott's arms.
“Thanks,” Scott whispered, closing his eyes. He was already exhausted, just the simple act of being - somewhat - vertical wiping away all of his energy and leaving him feeling useless. He'd just wanted a nice breakfast followed by a nice day.
Martyn handed him his pills and Tango plated up the breakfast and it was only half way through eating his plate that Scott realised he had zoned out and didn't have a single idea what his boyfriends had been talking about for the last ten minutes. He blinked himself back into the present, finding Martyn and Jimmy both texting with one hand while eating with the other, while Tango was sat pretty much with Scott in his lap, their thighs pressed together and their stools touching as Tango had an arm wrapped around his back. Scott must have been really out of it to not notice when that happened.
“Hey, Snowflake,” Tango murmured, noticing him come back to himself. He sent Scott a small smile, gesturing for him to carry on eating.
“What did I miss?” It wasn't uncommon for Scott to dissociate on a bad pain day, and he knew that his boyfriends were used to it, but it always made him just a bit self conscious. It was worse when he did it in public, admittedly, but he still felt bad. What if his boyfriends thought that he was just ignoring them because he didn't care?
He returned to his breakfast, hissing quietly to himself when his arm locked up and refused to move. He should be able to move it. It was an arm, it's entire purpose was to move, but trying just made pain erupt through his shoulder. His frustration built as he stared at the bite of bacon that he couldn't get to his mouth, and the urge to smack his head off the table grew with it.
“Eh, just those two having competitive breakfast eating,” Tango said, his voice slightly higher pitched than normal. Why was Tango lying? “Once we've eaten do you want to watch a movie?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” He was too tired to argue, and watching a film really did sound like a good idea. It didn't involve any moving, and if they picked one he'd seen a hundred times before it wouldn't take much thinking either. Both of those were ideal.
Scott ended up bundled under about six blankets, a mug of hot chocolate left on the table next to him and all three of his boyfriends sprawled around him. Jimmy and Martyn were cuddling on the sofa with him, while Tango was laying on the floor. Apparently it was floor time, and he was quite happy down there.
They'd put on Hot Fuzz - Jimmy's request, and definitely one that Scott had seen enough to fit the requirements. Jimmy was watching intently, while Scott and Tango pulled silly faces at each other. The laughter was making his ribs hurt even more, but it was worth it.
Scott was surprised when he heard the doorbell, and even more surprised when none of the other three seemed to match his confusion. Jimmy didn't even look away from the screen, like he'd been expecting it. Martyn was the one who ended up standing up and heading to the door, winking at Scott - of all things - as he left the room.
“What-” Scott started to ask, being cut off by Tango.
“Just a moment,” he said, looking excited.
Scott wanted as patiently as he could, which in reality meant that he spent half the time watching the film and the other half staring at Jimmy and Tango, hoping that one of them would give something away. Jimmy wasn't looking away from the screen, something that Scott was starting to think was a tactic, rather than just him being invested in the plot.
“Scott,” Martyn called, walking back into the room, followed by-
Followed by Pearl and Cleo, Scott's best friends who he hadn't been able to see for about three weeks now, thanks to clashing work schedules and Scott being too wiped to do anything even when he was free.
“Pearl! Cleo!” Scott gasped, almost throwing himself to his feet to hug them before his body reminded him that it would simply collapse to a painful ball should he try such a thing.
“Your boyfriends invited us,” Pearl told him with a grin. “Suggested we bring popcorn. You got any room for us?”
“We brought your favourite.” Cleo held up a bag of toffee popcorn, as though Scott needed any convincing to let them stay.
“Sorry, I would come and hug you but-”
“Don't apologise,” Pearl waved his words away, shoving at Jimmy until he had moved enough for her to fit on the sofa next to Scott. She wrapped an arm around Scott's shoulder, sending him a familiar look. ‘If you need us to leave, just say’. Pearl knew that Scott was easily overwhelmed when he was in pain, and he appreciated the offer, but there was no way in hell he was taking her up on it. Not when he had his best friends by his side again.
“But I was going to invite you to go to the beach,” Scott sighed, happily leaning his head on Pearl's shoulder as Cleo perched on the sofa arm on his other side. “And then… I couldn't.”
“Scott, if you think we are unhappy about coming to your place to watch a film and eat popcorn, then you have greatly underestimated us.”
“Besides,” Cleo pointed out. “I always burn when we go to the beach. Staying in and watching films is better for both of us.”
It wasn't true. Or, not all of it was. Cleo did admittedly burn quite impressively even from a tiny amount of sun, but that had never stopped them before. No, it was Scott and his pain that always stopped plans. He tried not to be too mad at himself when it happened, but it was difficult.
“But–”
“Don't argue with them,” Tango interrupted with a hiss from across the room. “They're scary when they get annoyed.”
Scott shut his mouth obediently, earning himself a bright smile from Tango and a fond laugh from Pearl. Cleo opened the bag of popcorn, pushing it into Scott's hands and leaning close to start heckling the Hot Fuzz characters, as they always did when they watched a film.
Scott was still in pain, and still frustrated with himself, but it was harder to hold onto that frustration with Pearl on one side stealing his popcorn, Cleo on the other cheering at the gory bits, Tango still on the floor trying to get Pearl to throw popcorn into his mouth, and Martyn and Jimmy at the other end of the sofa competing to see who could remember the most quotes from the film. It was difficult to be annoyed with himself when he still had this, and this was exactly what he had wanted out of the day.
Maybe it didn't matter if plans were changed, so long as he still ended up surrounded by his favourite people.