Hey :) I have a new story. It's this time no one shot, I hope I will keep it short tho (four chapters).

It's beta'd, it's a Braz, it's angst and will be mpreg in the following chapters. And I think alternate universe. Not sure so far...

I would love to get some reviews *still so happy about the ones on her other stories*, it's okay to just say that you like it. That's all I want. You're allowed to say more than that tho ;)

*sighs* So, happy reading, please comment. *is excited* This fanfic means a lot to me, and I'd really like to know what you think. Even if it's stupid, please say it.

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Chapter 1: Repeat the same routine

The sound of porcelain hitting the floor and breaking apart in a thousand pieces makes him turn around in his seat at the breakfast table confronted with the sight of his boyfriend propping himself against the countertop. Sobs escape his mouth. Shaking all over, he's barely able to hold himself up on his feet.

It is one of those moments; feelings so overwhelming they scratch on his skin from the inside, making him hurt so much that he can't keep his emotions in any longer. The sight isn't the most beautiful one, in fact every time it happens, it feels like a punch on his heart. It isn't easy to watch your boyfriend having an emotional breakdown. And especially far from easy, having in mind why he has those once in a while.

Well, the term “once in a while” doesn't fit here; the breakdowns are getting worse from day to day, sometimes he has them twice a day. Brad doesn't say he has “breakdowns”. Whenever it is brought up in a conversation, he only says his boyfriend had his “moments” every now and then. And he doesn't say his boyfriend needs therapy. He doesn't say his boyfriend is mentally ill. He's not. The only problem his boyfriend has is his wrong impression of himself, something that he has to change on his own, something only he can change rather than meds.

Brad stands up, walks over to his crying boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his waist, placing soothing kisses on his exposed neck.

“Everything's alright, no reason to hate yourself. There's nothing to blame yourself for,” he whispers, trying to calm his lover down. The key is to stay calm yourself, no questioning, no yelling. In moments like these, it's too easy to get him panicking.

“I-I didn't want t-to... break it,” he stutters, his voice thin and low.

Still talking in a whisper, “Don't worry, it's not a big deal.” However, it is Chester's favorite cup shattered in pieces on the floor, a self-made gift from Mike. Because Mike got sick of Chester using everybody's cups, he decided to buy him one, one Chester wouldn't abandon. The cup used to be very colorful, phrases and small figures all over it, all hand-drawn by Mike. And now, it's nothing more than trash.

Brad knows how much this cup meant to Chester, and he knows that it is indeed a big deal but telling Chester so is fatal. Rather a broken cup than a broken soul.

Another sob, this time a strangled one, Chester's trying his hardest to keep himself under control. One thing Brad wants him to change; swallowing his feelings because to Chester, crying makes him look weak, makes him appear helpless. But crying means releasing some of your pain as well, and that seems to be a good method to Brad.

He turns his lover around, looking deeply into his eyes. “Crying is okay, you know that.”

Chester breaks the eye contact, looking down. He knows it, yes, he does. But once he has swallowed his tears, he can't bring them back. “I do.“

Chester doesn't want to talk about it, he never wants to. It's the way he is, it's the way he treats himself. Thinking that every little thing that ever goes wrong, is his fault. Everything he does is not enough, it's not good, it's not even okay. It's nothing. Because he is nothing. Nothing more than a retarded, stupid and nervous wreck.

No matter how often people tell him how talented he is, how much they love the things he does; it changes nothing. Nice words, maybe even some truth in them but he can't believe in them. He knows that people telling you how great your work is makes your work great, maybe even makes you talented, and he knows that people usually don't lie to him about it. Though, he can't believe it, he's just not able to think good of himself. He can't be good.

It's like he's his own obstacle; standing in the way, hindering himself from keeping on his path. He's his own worst enemy that is planted deep inside of him, its roots wrapped around his inner organs. It has struck roots inside of him, it never goes away. Not if he doesn't find the strength to eradicate it.

And strength; he has trouble to remember it.

Wiping away his tears with the back of his hand, Chester breaks the hug and turns around, facing the tiled wall in front of him. A heavy sigh, he turns on the radio and tries to act like nothing happened a few seconds ago. He shouldn't be feeling so ashamed right now; there's no point why you should be ashamed for crying in front of the person you love.

His behavior is as usual, he doesn't allow Brad to comfort him. At times, he even pushes him away, at times he even yells at him that he doesn't need anyone to baby him. It happens too often in Chester's opinion that he turns his self-hatred into pure anger and lets it out on Brad. That's when he makes Brad responsible for his agony that seems to be never-ending.

When people notice the bruises, they tell Brad to break up with Chester, to leave him behind and start over again. To others, Chester seems ruthless, like he couldn't care less about Brad hurting. But Brad knows it all better; his boyfriend hates himself even more for being so cruel. Additionally, without him, Chester would be lost, and losing Chester forever is the last thing that Brad wants.

Sighing, Brad returns to his bowl of cereals, dipping the spoon into the milk over and over again. Usually, these “moments” steal his appetite. And he wants it to be evening, so he would know that he doesn't have to remain in this awkward state because the day was about to end. That's what he likes about sleeping; no matter how bad you're feeling when you go to bed, no matter how much of a misery your situation is while you're falling asleep, it changes your way to look at it. Every morning when you're waking up, you have a different impression of your situation. The old and new day are separated from each other by your dreams, by you leaving the reality for a few hours. So, after waking up, there's a distance between you and what has happened the day before, which helps you solve your problems and get along with the memory of it.

“Any plans for today?,” Chester's voice cuts him off. It's surprisingly calm, the very opposite of just a few minutes ago.

Brad doesn't look up from his bowl of soaked cereals. Somehow, he can't get himself to look up, neither speaking loudly, so he just mumbles, “No.”

Chester turns around, frowning at his boyfriend. “Are you alright?” Even though he knows that he wouldn't receive a real answer; he tries it over and over again and to get the truth out of Brad. Because he's not the only one with a problem; Brad hates to admit how much Chester's behavior hurts him, he never talks about it. Particularly not with Chester, for whatever reason. Although he knows that he wouldn't be able to give Brad wise advice -since he doesn't even know some for himself-, he would love to listen to him, to hug him and just give him the feeling of not being alone. But Brad's stubborn like that.

“I guess.” That's all that leaves his mouth while standing up and placing the empty bowl on the counter next to the sink. And leaves with an emotionless peck on his lover's cheek to head upstairs and take a shower.

Confused, disappointed, irritated, mad, even on the verge of breaking down again; Chester couldn't tell which one of these emotions he's feeling the most right now. Definitely, desperation. Sighing, he cleans up the kitchen, and even decides to clean the hall. Cleaning always distracts him and lets him easily drift off to another world. It's his way to calm down whenever he's agitated because of Brad's stubbornness and weird treatment. That's exactly what's agitating him right now; he wanted to spend their day off with him but after what happened a few minutes ago, he can forget about his plans. Brad wouldn't even stay in the same room for longer than 2 minutes.

And how this treatment hurts him again. But it just serves him right; for vicariously lying to his boyfriend. To the one he should be able to trust. Somewhere, deep inside, he knows that he can rely on Brad. There has to be something interrupting the connection from the deepest place in his heart to his brain. It's not fair to still distrust him after 3 years of relationship. Brad tries so hard to keep their relationship going, he tries so hard to help him. All the complaints he always listens to. Each time he gets yelled at; he still smiles warmly and remains calm. Every blame, every insult; he just accepts it. There's so much for him to take, to deal with. Isn't it evident that he needs his privacy every once in a while?

That only makes Chester feel more worthless. He's not at all like Brad. To be honest, disregarding how much admitting it hurts, he's doing his best at ruining their relationship. In fact, they're walking close to the edge, currently. Only the bare thought of Brad and him breaking up, almost kills him. The mental image of that moment feels like his lungs were burning until they're nothing more than some ash, covering his heart in a matte grayish color. Leaving him on his knees, desperately trying to inhale some oxygen but is not able to aerate his body.

Before he lets this thought of what could happen take his mind and body completely over, he gets the cleaning supplies and starts mopping the tiled kitchen floor. Another reason why he loves to clean the house; it's the only thing he's good at and it doesn't make him feel bad since he did something useful. And this way, there's less work for Brad.