Trigger warning: Eating disorders
Smut warning, too :)

Remington's prediction is right. He does relapse. They get back home once Andy is checked over again in hospital, and the man finds him in the bathroom with his fingers down his throat, teary and upset with himself for letting it happen.

"No no, sweetheart, don't do that," Andy soothes, pulling his husband into him. "It's okay. You're okay. Just breathe through it for me." He kisses the boy's head and Remington wraps his delicate arms around him.

"'m sorry," he mumbles, "I...it was s'posed to-s'posed to help."

Andy can feel him shaking. He should have come up to the bathroom with Remington. He realises that now and he hates himself for not doing so. "Shh, no need for sorry. Let's make a blanket fort. How's that sound?"

Remington nods against him. He always feels so breakable when he's like this. It's relieving to have Andy. "'kay. Andy?"

"Hmm?"

The boy lifts his head up. He manages a smile when his cheekbones are stroked with Andy's gentle thumbs. "Why'd you stay?"

"Why'd I stay where, kitten?" Carefully, he helps Remington up off the floor, holding his hand as they walk across to the bedroom.

"With me," Remington whispers. Part of him doesn't want Andy to hear. He sits on the bed with a sigh. Sometimes everything feels difficult.

"Because," Andy begins, "you're the most precious thing I've ever seen and you make me happy." He opens the wardrobe, looking for a large blanket. "And you're very beautiful and and kind and-" he finds a blanket, pulling it out. "-I need you."

"D'you think I'm a-'m a failure?"

The older shakes his head and shakes out the blanket. "Why would I every think that? You could never be a failure."

"Well I am, so..."

"I know you have bad days, sweetie, but they don't make you a failure. If anything, they make you stronger, because you still smile and make others smile, even when everything is hard and you feel like making it all stop. Today's just a bad day and it won't last forever." He ruffles Remington's hair. "Now, come help me make this fort."

Remington looks down. "Can't you jus' make it 'nd I'll lie here thinking 'bout death?" He whines when Andy puts the blanket over his head, lifting it off.

"No, princess. It'll be fun and you need a distraction."

"'kay, fine. But hug first please."

Andy obliges gladly. The hug turns into a pillow fight when Remington reaches for one of the pillows and hits Andy over the head with it. "You're a child, I swear," Andy laughs, and steals the pillow.

"You got that right."

"I get everything right."

Remington shakes his head. "Not everything."

"Yes I do," Andy says, and pins Remington to the bed. He pokes the younger's cheek. "You appear to be stuck."

"Fuck you."

"Mm, maybe later. Wanna know something?"

Remington pouts.

"I'm a vampire."

"Oh? You gonna bite me, then?"

"Maybe I will," he teases, drawing a hand across Remington's jaw and over his lips, raising an eyebrow when the boy bites his finger. "Hey, I'm supposed to be doing the bititng," he complains, "and we still haven't made the fort.

"I like biting you," is Remington's response, "so deal with it, sunshine." He wraps his hand around Andy's wrist and pretends to bite into him and suck his blood.

Andy, amused, chuckles. "You're strange," he says, "my strange little kitten." He sees how Remington blushes and it makes him smile. "Seriously, you're gonna give me a hickie."

Remington hums.

"And how the fuck am I supposed to explain why I've got a hickie on my wrist?"

"Dunno," Remington slurs, mouth against Andy's skin. "Tell 'em the truth?"

"What? My husband thinks he's a vampire and tried to drink my blood. No big deal."

The boy hums again, trying not to laugh.

"Right. Now will you stop so I can kiss you?"

Remington releases Andy's arm after a moment and kisses him back keenly, pushes his hips up into Andy's.

"Mm, you're needy today, huh? Fort first."

"But you started it," Remington whines, "you can't do that and then not follow through."

Andy sits up. "Oh, but it's fun," he purrs, "and you're cute when you're flustered." He pats his lover's cheek and gets off the bed.

Remington pouts up at him. "But now I'm turned on," he complains, and sits up, too. "You fucking bitch."

"You helping or just gonna sit there whining about how attractive I am?"

"Maybe I don't wanna help you now."

Andy abandons the blanket in his hands and grabs Remington's crotch, the boy sucking in a breath, and then he picks up the blanket again with a cheeky smirk. "How 'bout now?"

Remington looks at him with desperate eyes. "Andy, that's not fair. You have to finish me off. Please."

"I'm making the fort." He's playing around and Remington knows it.

"Yeah, the fort in my pants."

Andy snorts. "Just get yourself off or something if you're that desperate," he suggests, jokingly so.

The younger sticks his tongue out, unimpressed and amused. "I'm not that desperate."

"You sure about that?"

"Positive. But I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to...you know?"

Eventually Andy manages to persuade Remington to help him with the blanket fort and they construct it over the bed. It takes longer than it should because Remington keeps trying to get Andy to touch him and pushing himself into the man whenever he has the chance. Once the fort is made, the men lie on their fronts underneath with Andy's laptop and Netflix open. While Andy looks for a show to watch, Remington manouveres himself onto the man, grinding down into Andy and making himself hard.

Andy rolls his eyes but pushes up into Remington as he presses play on a show. "Lie down," he says, "I'll finish you off."

Remington gladly does that, lying on his back and tipping his head back into the sheets when Andy finally does what he's been begging for all afternoon. He cums hard and loud and all over Andy's hand. The man wipes it off with tissues and they settle down to watch whatever Andy put on, happy for now, and, until they find out who the stalker is, calm.

The calm before the storm, some might say.