Based loosely on Ten Count, the lovely manga.
There are descriptions of Edd's panic and general discomfort in this chapter and there's likely to be more throughout the story, just so you know.

Tenth Step

Prologue:

Edd feels like he's about to come out of his own skin. Everything is prickly and feverish. He can't get comfortable. Feels like he needs a shower, wants to scrub his skin until it's pink and aching.

He hates elevators almost as much as he hates sidewalks which is really saying something. They make him feel as if he's suffocating, surrounded on all sides by illness and disease.

How many hands have touched those buttons? What had those hands touched before that? Faces, noses, mouths, and worse. How many people have been in here while they were sick? How many didn't wash their hands at all that day?

He distracts himself by taking deep breaths and counting. Thinks about the paper his students are going to turn in tomorrow. Wonders how many might actually do it.

Just when he's thinking about how lucky he is that it's only him in here, the elevator stops on the second floor, not the first, his goal. His stomach twists up in knots and his palms are clammy in his gloves.

He wishes those dumb kids hadn't set off stink bombs in the science hall's lone stairwell. He's pretty sure that's a building code violation or something because it's just ridiculous. There should be another way out of here, other than this cesspool.

The ding of the elevator doors makes his heart stutter in his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath as he can already feel his chest seizing with his panic.

When he opens his eyes he sees the doors closing and all he can think is how this might as well be his coffin.

The man who has joined him isn't someone he's seen around before. He's tall and muscular, skin pale and lightly freckled. He has perfect bone structure. Now Edd has to worry about not staring; it adds to his anxiety.

Unfortunately for Edd, he's standing in front of the panel of buttons which means when the man moves to press the fourth floor button he almost brushes Edd's shoulder. The smaller man takes a staggered step back, body rigid, because that's far too close - so close he can see the man's pulse fluttering and smell his cologne, rich and strong, almost like raw vanilla.

He presses the button and looks back at Edd with a quirked brow. His eyes are even gorgeous, a lovely green that Edd honestly has never seen before.

There's a painfully long moment during which they simply stare at each other.

Edd wants to tug on his hat but he also doesn't want this beautiful man in his nice dress pants and button down to see his stupid latex gloves.

"You look like you're going to throw up."

Edd could pukes just from that.

The man has a nice voice, too, deep and strong. It's honestly terrible, at least in these circumstances.

"S-sorry," he chokes out. He's proud he manages that much with his heart beating so hard it hurts and his throat closing up.

"It's all cool, man," he replies easily and quickly steps back and away.

Edd heaves a sigh of relief and stuffs his still-gloved hands in his lab coat pockets as far as he can.

He can feel the other man's green eyes trained on him. It makes him feel even worse.

"Not claustrophobia," he mumbles and Edd almost jumps out of his skin.

"I-I'm sorry? I didn't catch that…"

He only hums, green eyes trained on him, controlled and fierce.

There's only one floor, this should go faster. Why isn't this going faster?

"Agoraphobia?"

"Excuse me?" Edd asks, voice high and tense. His heart feels like it could give out.

"Nah, you're okay with eye contact," he decides.

Edd tears his eyes away even as he says it and takes a step back then sucks in a sharp breath when he realizes how close he was to bumping into the wall, peering back at it warily.

"Mysophobia," the man says firmly and snaps his fingers; it's the most animated he's been since he got into the elevator. When Edd turns back to him his eyes are even sharper. "That's it."

Edd stares at him like a deer in headlights, pulse so fast he feels he might just faint. The redhead simply gazes back at him steadily, perfectly calm.

No one has ever said anything about his Mysophobia before. SOmetimes he's been jokingly called a germaphobe or whatever else but no one has ever pinned him down so easily or quickly. He's so shocked he can't even feel nauseous.

The elevator dings and Edd darts out.

Eddward would be lying if he claimed he can't remember when his phobias first began but it's easier to lie than admit the truth. Some things are best left alone.

He's grown to accept his condition, he's had years to after all, and that's all that really matters. He's fine. He's functioning. He's okay.

Focusing on the past is pointless.

Edd's days begin at 6:00 am exactly. He makes his bed, he showers, he puts on his hat and drives to the college he works at as a professor (one of the youngest but also pretty well known though he's nothing too special).

He washes his hands before class and then before lunch, sometimes twice. He eats alone, and always a meal he made himself (after washing his hands as many times as he finds necessary). Even though there's no reason to, he washes his hands after eating, too.

The thought of some unknown germ or substance entering his body is honestly horrific. If it means washing his hands until they are dry and scabbed to keep himself safe, then so be it.

His students don't bother him unless it's for extensions on papers or other nonsense and for the most part his fellow teachers don't either. Those that are around him never question why he always seems to have gloves on; he's a chemistry professor, part of his job involves handling chemicals and demonstrating experiments so gloves are pretty standard attire. They just think he's quirky and even those who have picked up on his little problem like Nazz, who teaches Introduction to Fiction and Literary Theory, don't put too much thought into it. It's better that way.

Edd has been living with his condition since childhood and he sees no reason to change that until the day he meets Kevin Barr again.

"Hey! Double D!"

Eddward turns around to find Nazz waving at him from across the cafeteria. He smiles and weaves around the students meandering about, expertly avoiding contact. He's already ten feet away from her when a group of students finally moves from where they are positioned between him and her, revealing none other than the redheaded man from yesterday.

His heart sinks.

Still, he forces himself to smile as he approaches; he stays as far away as possible while not being rude. "Ah, hello Nazz."

"This is Kevin, he's the new counselor."

"Hello!" Edd says too quick and high.

Kevin smirks. "Nice to meet you," he replies in that same bored tone as yesterday despite the curve of his lips. He doesn't offer his hand much to Edd's relief. "The chemistry professor, right?"

"Yes, I am."

He hums in acknowledgment.

"Ms. Nazz!" a student calls from nearby and waves frantically.

The woman grins broadly before looking back to the two of them. "I'll see you later! Show him around, Double D!" she says with one last bright smile before continuing on.

Edd looks to Kevin, gulping. "Um…"

"I'm sorry," they say in sync. Kevin's lips curl again and Edd quickly looks down at his feet.

"You have no reason to apologize-" Edd tries to object but Kevin quickly cuts him off by raising one hand.

For a brief moment, Edd is convinced that Kevin is going to try to touch him. He's sick and terrified but it never happens. Kevin instead lowers his hand.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried like that," he says firmly but even as he does his eyes are trained on Edd's gloved hands. "I'm just used to, you know, counseling."

"I sincerely hope you don't counsel like that," he mumbles before he can stop himself. Flushing in embarrassment, he opens his mouth to apologize but Kevin laughs, bold and honest, and it makes the words die in his throat.

Yes, he's quite the handsome man.

"I'm pretty direct," Kevin explains. His eyes are surprisingly warm "What about you?"

"Hm?"

"Why aren't you in counseling or therapy?" he asks like it's the most casual thing in the world. "Mysophobia can be extremely difficult to manage. Well, impossible to manage."

"I-I'm really fine. I appreciate that this is your job but-"

"Right, sorry. I know I shouldn't pry. Habit. But… if you ever want help," he continues and reaches into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet, from that he withdraws a card, "I can help. Or at least find someone else to help."

Edd stares down at the business card for a moment. He feels sick just thinking about touching something like that and he swears he's fine yet he's compelled to take it.

Kevin smirks again as if he's pleased with himself and nods to Eddward in approval.

"Thank you…" Edd murmurs hoarsely.

"Don't be afraid to give me a call. Later, Double Dork."

Edd squawks in indignation but can only gape at the man as he walks away, laughing boldly as he goes.

He's fine. He's functioning. He's okay.

This is the first time in years he's ever questioned those things.

Maybe he's not so fine after all.

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