em and kells having an argument, and amidst of it, kells suddenly couldn’t talk and turns out he was having a panic attack
"I just want to know why the fuck you would ever think that was anything but a dumb ass fuckin idea? Nah, fuck it, I know you. Obviously you didn't think. That's the fucking problem." He should slow down. He should take a breath. He should just walk away. Em knows this, but even though it hurts to see Colson cowering in shame, he can't make himself let up. What he did was so fucking stupid. So unbelievably thoughtless.
Em has spent years cultivating a shroud around his family life. He's tried to keep his daughters out of tabloids and their names out of the mouths of people who don't need to be using then. He's seen what happens to people that are overexposed. He's seen what's happened to their kids. And he's spent over a decade now reversing the damage he did to Hailie and preventing it from happening with his other girls.
Kells can do what he wants with his daughter, but not with Em’s. He posted a picture of all of them together, him and Casie in the foreground while Em and his daughters hung in back. Em had seen him take the picture, but didn’t know he would post it. He would’ve stopped him if he did.
It didn’t take long for people to realize where they were and start showing up, paparazzi and fans alike crowded in around them, and even before he knew it was happening because of the picture Colson had posted to his Instagram story, he knew it had to be his fault.
They eventually got swarmed, and from then their day was over. He was already annoyed, but when he found out about the picture, he snapped. How could he have been that stupid? He put them in danger, he put Em’s fucking girls in danger.
“Next time, take a second to process the dumb shit going through your head and think about how fucking stupid it is before doing it. That would’ve saved everyone a lot of trouble today.” He’s going low, especially to his boyfriend, but he knows Colson will come back lower. That’s just how they fight, how they do anything really.
Colson doesn’t say a word, though. He just sits silent on the edge of their bed. He’d been fighting back earlier, when Em first found out and started going off. He’d said he didn’t think it was going to be a big deal, that Em was blowing the whole thing out of proportion, that his daughters were grown and old enough to deal with fans and paparazzi. Now, nothing.
Something is wrong.
“Kells?” Nothing.
He tries again to get Colson to respond, “Colson?”
“Kelly?” Colson hates the name and ruffles every time he says it, even as a joke. Still, not a word from him.
“You’re scaring me, what the fuck is going on?” Em gets closer to the bed, and Colson shrinks back from his touch.
“Kells, fucking say something or I’m gonna call the police and tell ‘em you’re dying or some shit.”
Colson gasps in, ragged and painful, it hurts Em’s ears, but at least it’s a sign he is breathing.
“Hey,” He murmurs, “I’m sorry for yelling. That was wrong. You were right, I blew it way out of proportion.” He’d thought Colson was being flippant earlier, that he was defending himself against Em because he actually didn’t give a fuck about what had happened. Em knows now how wrong his assumption was. Colson was just as shaken up by it, probably blaming himself already, and then he came in and started yelling at him.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. Posting that picture was stupid. I’m fucking stupid. I’m sorry, Em. I’m so fucking sorry.” Colson wrings his hands in his lap and looks down at him as he speaks.
“I just said I was wrong, you’re not fucking stupid. I was just afraid, for the girls, and for you. That shit came out of nowhere, so I guess I was on edge, you know?” Colson doesn’t respond or react in any way, so Em reaches out again. He has to touch him and feel him to know he’s alright, that he’s recovering form whatever catatonic state he was in.
Colson doesn’t flinch when he runs a hand down his hot cheek, but he doesn’t nuzzle into it like he usually does.
“Fuck, Colson, I wish I could take back what I just said. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t know what the fuck just happened to you, but I never want you to go through it again, and I hate that I did it to you.” He does hate it, hates himself, actually.
Colson whispers something that Em misses.
“What?”
“I said it wasn’t your fault, it was a panic attack... Like, I mean, it kind of was your fault because you were going crazy at me, but like, it probably would’ve happened anyway, that shit was scary.” Kells still won’t look at him, but he’s stopped messing with his hands.
“A panic attack? You get those?”
“Yeah, sometimes, gets worse when I’m in really intense situations, you know?”
Em’s not sure if he’d call them panic attacks, but he knows the pain before, during, and after intense moments. He knows that adrenaline knocks the sense and breath out of you. He knows the constricting of your heart and lungs until everything goes back. He knows it all.
“Yeah, I know. Like I said, I’m sorry I was yelling at you.”
“Yeah, fuck you for that, but whatever, now it just means you owe me tender ass apology sex.” Colson finally looks up at him, with red cheeks and a mischievous grin. Em can’t let go of all of his concern, or his self-loathing at exacerbating his anxiety, but he can let go of enough to muster a smile back, and later, some tender ass apology sex.
