Trigger warning kinda

When Remington is finally released from hospital, the first thing he does is jump onto their double bed at home, face down in the covers, happy to be away from the beeping machines and free of the tube. They were told that Andy and his brothers are to keep a close eye on his eating and that he must talk about it with Abigail every week to ensure he's not going straight back into not eating. They all know he'd do that if he had the chance.

While he's lying on the bed, Andy rubs his shoulders and softly reminds him that he's got an interview tomorrow on a radio show. Remington groans, noise muffled, turning his head and straining to look at the older man. "Fuck that," he says, "I don't like live interviews. They make me shaky." He turns his head back to its previous position.

Andy runs a hand up into the singer's hair and Remington exhales. "I know, sweetheart. But it'll be okay! You're great at them!" His encouraging words drift over Remington, who has a habit of always jumping straight to the worst possible conclusion.

"I might accidenally swear and I'm not meant to do that on daytime radio. You know I swear all the damn time."

"I do know, yep. Let me remind you that I live with you. What was it last time? Oh! I know! I fucking missed this bed."

"No, you're wrong. The most recent one was fuck that."

Andy chuckles. "Point proven."

"But seriously, what if I fuck it up? Oh man! I did it again!"

"You're cute."

Remington whines.

"It'll be awesome, honey. Stop worrying."

Remington turns onto his back. "Worrying is what I do, Andy," he points out, scrunching his face up when Andy prods his cheek. "Fuck off."

"Maybe we should ban the word fuck in this house and see how long you can last without saying it, hmm?"

The man's suggestion makes Remington whine again and he playfully pushes Andy's hand away.

"Who's the interview with?"

Remington shrugs. "Dunno. Some people."

"I love your excitement."

"Good."

Andy shakes his head, amused, and tickles Remington's lower back.

The boy hits his hand away, giggling. "Why can't you come to the interview with me?" He asks in a baby voice.

"Because they wanna interview you and not me, sweetheart."

"Well I think they're missing out. Where are you going?"

Andy, stepping towards the door, shrugs. "Downstairs. 's that okay?"

"If you make me tea, then yes."

"We ran out of tea bags."

"Unnaceptable." The singer sits up and attempts to fix his messy hair, giving up when Andy laughs at him and instead pouts and throws a pillow in Andy's direction. "But Andy," he whines, drawing out the man's name, "what if it goes bad?"

Eyebrow raised, leaning against thee door frame, Andy throws the pillow back. "What? The interview?"

Remington nods, leaning over to grab the pillow from where it landed on the floor.

"You need to stop worrying about it, sweet cheeks."

The boy scrunches his face up. "Sweet cheeks? Ew. And telling me to stop worrying is like telling you to stop being the best person in the world. It's impossible."

"Sweet cheeks is cute, no?" He watches Remington play with the fabric of the pillow.

"No, it's gross. Sweetheart; that's cute. Baby boy; also cute. Kitten; fuck yes, call me that more. Sweet cheeks? No. Never. Next time it leaves your mouth I'll call you babe, babe."

"What crawled up your ass and died?"

"You."

Andy laughs. "That's wrong on so many levels. Look, just-you always do great in interviews. Why are you so worried about his one?"

Remington shrugs. "Dunno," he mumbles, leading Andy to believe that there is something else going on besides being worried about an interview. He's never been worried about an interview before, apart from the one where he opened up about his abuse and his disorders.

"Alright, well when you're ready to tell me, I'll be downstairs not making tea."

"'kay," Remington responds, looking down at the pillow. "I think this needs washing."

"Wash it then, sweet cheeks."

"Stop it, babe."

Andy sticks his tongue out. "Never," he whispers, turning to leave the room. "Oh, I'll drive you to the interview tomorrow, okay? I'm need to buy some new clothes anyway so I'll do it then."

Nodding, Remington smiles. "'kay, thanks. Can you buy me clothes, too?"

"What do you want? Hoodies?"

"No, I only wear your hoodies. I need new trousers and stuff. Oh! And trouser braces. Mine broke."

"Cool. I will. Do you wanna just text me a list of what you need? You know I'll forget."

"You forget everything."

"No I don't," Andy complains, "I remember your birthday and that you hate cheese, and your favourite colour, and that you hate writing with ball point pens. And, kitten, I'm pretty sure you didn't remember out aniversary date and I did, so..."

"Oh fuck, yeah. Shit. That told me."

The older chuckles. "Okay, I really am going downstairs now. And, pretty, do come talk to me if there's something on your mind that you're not mentioning."

"Bye bye," Remington says in response, ignoring the words about something being on his mind. He throws the pillow at Andy as the man steps out of the room before lying back down on his back and feeling for his phone that's somewhere on the bed.

Remington looks through his tagged photos and likes some drawings, commenting on a few, and checks a couple of his dms. He smiles at the screen when a message from Andy pops up.

Just found one of your rings in the fruit bowl haha

which one?? I keep losing them

The one with the little blue bits on it

Oh okay. Can you come give it to me? Please?

Come down and get it

no

then Im keeping it

fuck you

later, sweet cheeks

stoppppp

never

ur an idiot

so are u

hahahahhaa

Remington changes his lock screen to a photo of Andy he took when the man was sleeping and smiles at it, and then finally gets off the bed and goes down to find Andy, crawling down the stairs and bursting into laughter when Andy passes the bottom and sees him. "I'm a child, shut up," he says, reaching the last step and looking up at Andy.

"You're a fucking idiot."

"I know. Gimme a hand, will you?"

Andy shakes his head and carries on into the living room with the two mugs he's carrying.

"Hey, Andy! Get back here!"

"Jesus Christ, chill. I'm just putting the mugs down."

"Ow!"

Andy returns to the bottom of the stairs. "Ow?"

Remington nods, reaching his arms up and grinning when his husband gives in and picks him up off the floor. "I banged my head."

"Did you?"

"No."

"Fantastic."

The singer hums.

"You're in a weird mood, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Why? What's up?" Andy sits Remington on the couch and hands him one of the mugs of coffee.

Remington shrugs and sips the drink. "Dunno. How many calories are in coffee?"

"I don't know and neither should you. Tell me what's wrong."

"Ten? Five? Two? And milk? There must be a lot in milk."

"Hey, stop. You don't need to know, honey. Look at me. You are more than the calories you consume. I promise. Drink the damn coffee, enjoy a damn biscuit once in a while. You don't need to spend your life worrying about calories and the number on the scale because it doesn't fucking matter what the number is. You're Remington whether you're underweight or not, okay?"

The boy sighs. "It just...I only-I only feel pretty and deserving of nice things, like-like you, when I-when the number is low and the calories are low."

"Oh princess, I know. But I promise that you are deserving of so much all the time. And, sweetheart, you're the most gorgeous person I have ever seen. I don't care what you weigh or what you eat."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Is that what you've been worrying about?"

Remington nods. "I know I'm heavier and I-well I feel-just-just gross. And I don't want anyone to see me because...what if they think I'm fat?"

"Oh no, sweetie, you're not gross. You're beautiful. And no one is going to think you're fat. I promise. You're healthier and that is good."

"Heavier," Remington argues.

"And that is okay. You are healthier and you are recovering and that is good."

Remington is quiet for a moment. He knows Andy is right. He looks at his lover and then down at the coffee in his hands.

"The interview will be great and you're beautful and I love you, okay?"

"If I say no will you say it again?"

"That you're beautiful and I love you?"

Remington nods.

"You're beautiful and I love you."

The younger smiles.