Hey yâall, this is a comfort fic, I was in desperate need of it.
I kinda took the cowards way out in terms of choosing a character to write, but Iâm trying something newâŠ
In the interactive box, write a maleâs name that you would like to be paired with⊠and if the box doesnât work, H/N stands for âHis Nameâ then thereâs the usual YN for you⊠(thatâs not interactive, I apologise.) This is just fluff and comfort
Here goes
H/N groaned as the bed jostled, he felt the sudden emptiness next to him and heard the light pat of feet against the floorboards as YN disappeared out of the bedroom and into the ensuite. The tired partner fell back asleep, waking five minutes later to notice YN was still gone, the slight illumination from a phone coming from the crack in the door to the bathroom.
H/N rolled over and rubbed at his eyes, kicking back the covers and standing from the comfy, warm, bed.
He padded over to the door and tapped twice, pushing it open when YN gave a faint hum.
âYou okay?â H/N croaked, his voice still thick from sleep. Looking down at YN, she was sat on the toilet, phone in hand, sudoku open on the screen, her other arm wrapped around her middle.
âYeah,â YN answered, halfheartedly.
âWhatâs up?â H/N asked, crouching and circling his fingers around her calf, tentatively, remembering how sheâd pushed his arm off her and rolled to the fair side of the bed, earlier that night.
âI donât know, I just woke up and didnât feel good.â She sighed, meeting his concerned gaze. Her mouth was turned down and her eyes reflected her tone; defeated.
âDo you want me to get you anything?â He asked, rubbing lightly up and down the back of her leg.
âA stomach that doesnât hate me?â She asked, shaking her head for a real answer. He murmured an okay and kissed her hair before he left. She gave him a weak smile as he closed the door, mouthing a thanks.
She sat there, concentrating on the pattern and the numbers on the phoneâs screen, forgetting about her stomach pain until, finally, she was able to move without her body protesting. She finished the third game, and balanced the phone on the sinkâs edge, staring at her toes as her brain receptors sent message after message to wiggle. Her feet were numb from sitting for so long. She closed her eyes, resting them for just a moment before cleaning herself up, then pushing up onto the useless limbs, balancing. She leaned against the sink and washed her hands, picking up her phone and turning quickly, praying she could make it back to bed before her feet began to tingle painfully from new blood flow.
She climbed into bed and repositioned the pillows, packing them against the headboard and propping herself into a half sitting position. Her stomach was already threatening to start doing weird flips and knots, would she never find peace tonight? YN frowned and huffed, unlocking her phone, she started another game, grinding her forefinger back and forth over her sternum as she began to concentrate, again, on fitting the numbers into the boxes.
âStill no good?â H/N muttered, rolling over to face her, propping himself up onto his elbow. She shook her head and kept going with the game. He watched her for a while before stilling the hand on her chest, moving it so he could start rubbing firm, broad, circles into her chest. She let out a deep breath, relaxing under his fist. For a second, he experienced an out of body thought; how weird it was that he was rubbing his knuckles, hard, into her chest and this seemed to relax her. He quickly discarded the thought and watched the game, she was quite good at it, finishing one game in five minutes before starting another.
After three games, they were both struggling to keep their eyes open. She locked her phone and put it down, H/N withdrew his hand and folded his pillow under his head, watching as she slowly and carefully sunk further down the bed, finally horizontal. He could hear the faint noise of the sheets moving, he could feel the slightest tug of the material against his boxers. He reached across the bed toward her.
âH/N,â She groaned, telling him she wasnât well enough to cuddle, but he continued, he knew her well enough not to attempt to smother her, but he did want to feel her, fall asleep to the touch of her warm skin. He found her hand smoothing circles on her belly and took it in his, squeezing gently. Even in the dark, he knew she was trying to smile at him, her hand slipped from his, back to grind against her sternum as he gently pressed the heel of his palm into her stomach, drawing a large circle, moving in a clockwise direction.
What were once odd quirks to H/N, were now routine. If YN had a stomach ache, sheâd lie on her left side or rub clockwise circles into her belly. If she was trying to take her mind off anything, sheâd play sudoku, and if that wasnât quite working, sheâd press against her sternum. If she had a sore throat sheâd sip hot lemon and honey, and if it progressed, sheâd start on the vitamins before ever seeing a doctor.
H/N once teased YN for all these different remedies, but now he could see just how much they worked for her⊠and somewhere along the way, they started working for him. Maybe not in the way they were intended, but they brought him comfort.
Her slow and even breathing told him that she was finally asleep, her body had given into the night and let her drift off peacefully.
âI love you.â He breathed into the dark room, retracting his hand from her abdomen, knowing if he were to fall asleep, the dead weight of his hand would wake her up in the night, and the last thing he wanted was to do that. He had faced her wrath of a morning once before, and heâd sworn never again. As much as he loved her, a tired, ill and angry YN was worse than a hundred hellhounds.
