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Burt Curtis, of all people, had asked him out.
Sven stared at him quietly, which must have scared him or something because he had backed out of the room and left Sven standing there. Was it his eyes? Whenever he looked into a mirror, his eyes looked weird. Maybe it was his eyebags. They were quite prominent.
That was why Sven was wandering around the base, looking for him. A date…they didn't know each other very well, or more accurately, Sven didn't know Burt very well. But he was willing to give him a chance. Afterall, he had derived from his previous experiences that he had to get to know a person quite well before he would be able to develop any romantic interest towards them.
He sighed as he shut the communications door behind him. Burt wasn't in there. This felt like a waste of time. He should be doing work instead.
He had already been struggling with his workload before he forced himself to step up as leader (the Clan had been becoming rather unstable and no one was doing anything correctly, and since he was an elite and there was no third in command, it was his duty), but now there was paperwork being set on his desk almost every hour and he needed to go on even more heists to ensure that everything went smoothly.
But still, it would be awfully nasty to leave Burt like that, and the well-being of his clanmates took priority over everything else, as it should.
He knocked on Burt's door, waiting to see if anyone was inside. It opened slightly, just enough for Burt to peek through. Sven cleared his throat nervously.
"Hi…uh, sorry about earlier. It was kinda rude of me to just leave you hanging."
"Nah, I made it uncomfortable, I get it. Let's just forget about it."
Sven shook his head, pushing the door open more so that he could see Burt properly.
"So, uhm, about the date. I don't mind going for one. You know, uh, just to see if it could work out?"
Something in Burt's face changed, though Sven couldn't tell what.
"Oh, huh, okay. Cool. When are you free?"
"I should be free on…I should be free…uhm."
Wait. When—he didn't have time for this, literally. He wanted to do it, but according to the schedule he had developed in his head, there just wasn't any free time. Weekends wouldn't work. Weekdays were obviously not open either.
He should just clear a day, any day. It'll be fine, it should be fine, but it might not be fine…They were already delayed and he still didn't know what the plans were except for the fact that he had to learn to pilot a rocket for it for whatever reason—
"I—uh, Friday. Next week. Yeah, yes, next Friday. W-we can watch a movie and have dinner, if that's fine by you."
God, Sven knew he sounded like a complete imbecile. What was he doing?
"Sure, that sounds nice. I'll meet you at your office at 7?"
Sven probably looked and felt too surprised, if he was being honest, nearly giving himself whiplash by jerking his head up to once again stare at Burt.
"Yeah, yeah, that's good." He smiled nervously, fidgeting with his watch. Okay, there was a plan, it would be fine.
Not wanting to make it anymore awkward then it already was, he waved and tore back down the corridor towards his office before Burt could even say anything else.
He was forming another schedule in his head. If it was going to work, he'd have to stick to it very strictly, but he knew he could do that.
Next Friday night, which meant that he could do work that afternoon and morning. To make up for the time spent on the date, he'd just have to work longer and faster throughout the two weeks, so he'd put in more overtime this week, skip sleep next Monday and Wednesday and nap for a bit on Tuesday. Sleep for at least 5 hours on Thursday, just so he'd look relatively decent. It was a foolproof plan, probably.
He wasn't sure why he's putting in so much effort or why he cared so much about the date working out, but it was for Burt he supposed. He worked hard as the Head of Communications for the Toppats, so it was only right for Sven to make this perfect for him.
Sven would admit that he had an interest in Burt even before he'd asked him out, albeit not in a romantic way. He'd heard some people talking about him, though not unkindly, became curious and decided to observe him.
Of course, he'd known about Burt's existence, he was in charge of communications, but considering that Sven was busy making his way up the ranks, then managing his own faction, which was meant to lay low, they hardly interacted. So it was only after he was transferred temporarily to the airship division that he'd actually met Burt in person.
He was very pretty, quite handsome if Sven was being honest, but his stone face did scare Sven slightly, and made him slightly uncomfortable in the beginning. Sven needed to know how the person he was talking to was feeling, or else how would he know if he was upsetting them (or needed to run)?
Burt probably knew more about Sven and the other Toppats than Sven would ever be able to find out about him by watching him. But Burt was definitely interesting. Something was up with his ability to feel or comprehend his emotions, and he was extremely good at hiding them. Sven had riled him up once or twice by accident, and he'd caught that glimpse of frustration and then slight confusion in Burt's face before he maintained his stony expression as usual.
Then one day, he had come into Burt's office to ask him something, and Burt had asked Sven why he felt so weird everytime someone interrupted him. He had been reading through some comic, and Sven had come in uninvited.
"Oh, I guess you might be irritated? It happens to me a lot too, when people interrupt me while I'm doing work. Sorry about that?"
And he swore he saw Burt's lip twitch upwards slightly, as he passed him the reports he'd asked for.
He'd returned back to his own faction a couple of months later, as did Burt.
Then Reginald and Right Hand Man were arrested. There wasn't a third in command, but the other elites urged him to step up so that they didn't have to, and eventually he forced himself to take charge because the Clan was becoming a complete mess.
What a struggle it was, attempting to get his clanmates to listen to him. There were quite a lot of ambitious ones in the clan, however they were a bit too reckless and inexperienced to lead just yet. For some reason, Burt had stuck by his side and helped him get the Toppats under control, which Sven appreciated. He thought that Burt would have made a better leader than he ever would.
During the two weeks after Burt confessed, Sven found himself searching for him everytime he walked into anywhere outside his office, just to see if he was there. Sometimes he'd wander up and talk a little to him, which they had already done a few times before. Sven was pleased to find that he enjoyed Burt's presence quite a bit, and couldn't stop himself from feeling hopeful.
Burt had found him curled in a corner of the lounge clutching his inhaler. Sven hadn't recognised him, all he knew was that there was someone approaching him and that there were people around who could see him. He couldn't remember where he was, everything and everyone was unfamiliar.
They were staring at him. He knew they were. These—These strangers, they could see him, they were watching him. He wanted to hide from them, but they're everywhere. He can hear murmuring, they were talking about him.
Don't—Please look away—
He wanted to throw up. He couldn't breathe. There was a sharp stabbing sensation in his chest, and his heart was pounding against his chest. Oh god, was he having a heart attack?
He was so scared.
"F-Fan—d-don't come any cl-closer…"
He shoved himself upwards with great effort, pushing himself away from the person approaching him. His chest was hurting, the fact that he could feel his heart thumping wildly made his headache feel worse, and he lurched unsteadily to the side. He was dizzy, and the room was spinning.
The person (It's Burt, he realised, there was nothing to be afraid of, he knows this) stopped. Sven reached up to his throat to try and soothe the choking feeling, pressing himself against the wall.
He started to feel numb and there's a strange tingling feeling. He felt as though he was not present, he doesn't think he's in charge of his body anymore, he's lost control, and it's absolutely terrifying. Was he going to die? He needed something to protect himself, he didn't want to die—
Where the hell was his gun?!
"-ear me? Can you hear me, Sven? Chief?"
Burt wasn't going to hurt him, so why was he so scared? And he was scared even before Burt had arrived, but what of? He didn't know, he didn't know. He felt like he was going crazy, he shouldn't be feeling like this, what was happening to him? Everything was fine, there's nothing wrong, but it felt like there was although he knew that that wasn't true.
What was wrong with him?
"I…I...mmhhnn—"
He whined because he couldn't think of something comprehensive to say and his head felt like it was going to explode.
"It's going to be okay. What do you need me to do? Are you finding it difficult to breathe?"
The person (Burt, it was only Burt), was gentle and deliberate, purposefully trying to be predictable in his movement as he knelt down. Sven nodded, immediately regretting it after his vision burst into stars. Fucking headache.
"Okay, alright, uh. You'll get through this. I need you to, uhm, breathe with me, okay? Deep breaths, okay?"
Sven had slumped back onto the floor, almost curling into himself, with Burt squatting next to him. He watched Burt's shoulders rise and fall as he took in deep breaths, listening to him count. He knew how to do this, he's been practising it for a long time, he could do it.
Burt slipped his inhaler back into his hands. Sven lifted it to his face.
Deep breaths. Tense, relax. Tense, relax.
"Sven, you're doing a great job. Can you repeat after me? Yeah? You're safe."
He was safe. He was safe. He was going to be okay. It'd be over soon.
The lights were too bright. He closed his eyes.
"Do you want me to switch the lights off?"
There's something placed into his hands, it feels like slightly rough cloth, and there was the sound of footsteps going away.
He whined again, but didn't open his eyes, pulling the item to his chest and fiddling with it. Don't leave, please don't leave—
The lounge became dark.
"I'm not leaving you."
There was a pause as the person returned back to his side. He felt them settle down in front of him.
"...Can I…Do you want me to hold your hand?"
"M-mhm…"
Burt's hand is warm, and strangely enough, rough. Sven opened his eyes to squint at Burt. He felt something else. Embarrassment? Shame? How could he have let people see him like that, panicking over nothing?
He subconsciously noted that the lounge was now empty, other than him and Burt. Where had the other clanmates gone?
"Hey…do you want to leave? We can go somewhere else more comfortable, if you wish."
He did, actually. He really did.
"Mitt rum."
"Alright, uhm, do you want me to carry you? It's really not a problem if you do."
Could he walk? He stretched his legs out, but they still felt shaky and numb. He opened his eyes again.
"Nej. Det är okej."
He couldn't show anymore weakness than he'd already had.
Picking up his jacket, which was the cloth item that had been passed to Sven earlier, Burt settled it on his shoulders, helping to ground Sven slightly. It was warm.
The next few minutes went by in a blur, but somehow they didn't run into many people which was a relief, probably because Burt knew which corridors were less likely to be used by clanmates.
If they saw him like that, having to lean against Burt before he could even think of trying to walk, they might start thinking he wasn't fit to be in charge. Some of them had already seen him and word was bound to spread. He might be over thinking, but he knew that that only spelt trouble.
As much as he would love to step down, he knew what happened to leaders who were unworthy of their position, and he sure as hell didn't want to die because of this.
Another thing to worry about.
God, what a bad day.
Sven only realised the full impact of his breakdown when he collapsed onto his bed and couldn't bring himself to get back up, with Burt quietly looking around.
His room was a mess, with paperwork that he'd brought over from his office, clothes, crumpled coffee cups and microwave food boxes strewn about, while a growing pile of broken pens was forming next to his bed. After this, Burt would probably be, at best, disgusted with him, and at worst, hate his guts and possibly shoot him.
Checking his alarm clock, the whole goddamn fiasco had only lasted around 20 minutes, including the time it took to walk to his room. Yet it had felt like an eternity, and he was beyond exhausted. He shouldn't be feeling like this, he's barely done anything at all.
And the date. The date that was supposed to happen 20 minutes ago. They were off the schedule and it was because of him, and he'd probably ruined Burt's day already. God, he was absolutely pathetic. He couldn't even do a simple task like not disappointing Burt.
He really didn't have the energy to go out, but he had to, because he'd promised Burt (or more so himself) that he would. He could fix this, he had to. If they rushed, they could catch the movie or watch another one, and if not, they could at least have a nice dinner? He hoped Burt wasn't too angry at him.
Waiting patiently for Burt, who had wandered out of the room while Sven was lost in thought, he quietly hoped that he would come back. It was selfish of him to want that, he knew, but Burt did say that he wasn't going to leave. And he did return, with a coffee pot and packets of coffee piled in his arms, plus a few boxes of crackers.
Without waiting for Burt to say anything, Sven stumbled unsteadily to his feet and moved towards him to help him carry some of the items. He fumbled and almost dropped some of the cracker boxes, which made him feel even stupider.
"I—I'm sorry, that—I was such a mess, I'm sorry you had to see that, if you're okay with it we can still go out for dinner, I'm really sorry, I know I ruined everything and you have a right to be mad but I'm sorry—"
"Sven. It's okay."
Dropping the boxes and coffee packets unceremoniously on Sven's dressing table, while placing the coffee pot down a bit more carefully, Burt placed his hands on Sven's shoulders with a gentle but firm grip.
"I'm not angry and there's nothing you have to apologise for, okay?"
He pushed Sven back to the bed, gesturing for him to rest, then looked around for a power socket for the coffee pot.
"Do you want to go out? You know we don't have to if you don't feel up to it."
Sven wasn't going to call off their date just like that, especially just because he's tired. He would feel extremely guilty, and as long as he could walk and eat and hold a conversation, he was fine.
"I've experienced panic attacks before, and I'm telling you, nothing would have been worse than for me to drag myself out after that ordeal. I don't want you to force yourself."
Burt's voice was monotone as usual, but softer and somehow pleading.
"But…the movie? And dinner?"
"We can just hang out here, we're still spending time together. And we can eat the crackers."
The crackers did look enticing, probably because Sven had forgotten to eat for a while. He picked one of the boxes up and played with it, tossing it into the air and catching it.
"...Okay."
He sat there quietly, finally opening the box after some time, unwrapping a packet of crackers and proceeding to nibble on one of them. Burt had found the power socket and had started preparing coffee. It smelt nice, and Sven silently enjoyed the aroma of the coffee as he finished the packet and opened a new one.
Joining Sven on the bed, Burt held two cups of coffee and passed one to Sven, then leaned over and stole one of his crackers.
It was honestly kind of funny, in a satiric way. What Sven had planned to be a nice outing that would end in a fancy dinner had derailed to them sitting in his disaster of a room drinking coffee and eating crackers of a brand he's never seen in his entire life (Granted, he doesn't go out grocery shopping much).
"...What's wrong with me? I don't even know what I was scared of. Why couldn't I just calm down? Wasn't that such an overreaction?"
He was confused. There were so many questions he had. Why couldn't he stop?
A long pause followed, and Sven wondered if he had caught Burt off guard with the question.
"There isn't anything wrong with you, really. It happened and there wasn't really any cause. It definitely wasn't your fault. You did a good job handling it, you know?"
Sven kept quiet. There was another, though more comfortable, period of silence.
Then Burt's voice cut through the silence, but it didn't surprise Sven much. He could tell that Burt had been thinking of saying something.
"Uhm, I'll be here for you, if you ever need anything or anyone. To like, talk to, or ask for help, or in general."
Sven leaned against Burt, warming his hands with the coffee. His eyelids felt heavy.
"I know this is tough, but we can get through this together. The rest of the clan is backing you up too."
Burt tugged the blanket over both their shoulders. He opened another packet of crackers, balancing his cup on his knee, as Sven rested his head on Burt's shoulder.
"So, yeah. You're not alone."
A hand was placed shyly onto Sven's, and Sven finally felt safe enough to doze off, intertwining their fingers before he did.
When he woke up, Burt was next to him, sleeping too, one of his arms wrapped around Svens shoulder in half an embrace, their hands still interlocked. The coffee cups were placed neatly on the nightstand along with the empty cracker wrapping, ready to be thrown away.
He processed the events of the previous night, head still resting against Burt's shoulder. His neck was going to ache later, but it was worth the companionship and warmth he felt.
Burt's words rang in his head.
I'll be here for you.
You're not alone.
And Sven swore he felt something. It felt different from his past romantic relationships, but it must be some kind of attraction.
Maybe their relationship could become something more after all.