Can we get Raihan and Leon's reactions to their crush kissing them on the forehead and murmuring, soft and sweet, for them to sleep well before slipping out of the room quietly. Their crush thinks they were asleep.
😭😭😭🤗🤗🤗 alright ill do it you better get ready for some friggin COMFORT anon this is going to be so soft you dont even KNOW
(dont mind the awkward shift in tenses between Leon and Raihan’s stories either 👀 sometimes that just Happens)
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Chicken Noodle Soup & Movie Night (LeonxReader, RaihanxReader)
Leon:
“I’m not sick,” Leon mumbles, and his glassy eyes follow you as you move about the room. You don’t humor him with a response. “You don’t have to do all this.”
You only hum as you continue to bustle about. More tissues, more blankets, and you should probably check his temperature again soon, too. He’s taken his medicine (though you hid it in a snack like you have to do with your Pokemon), and you finally got him into bed after some coaxing. He’s propped up on three pillows, he lets out a hearty cough, full and phlegmy, and you return to his side once his fit is over. You gently sit on the covers, set your hand on his forehead, and purse your lips.
“Yep, still burning up,” you say, and Leon groans.
“I’m fine,” he croaks. “You’re making too big a deal about this.”
“Leon,” you say sternly as you go to find the thermometer. “You’re shaking with chills, burning up, and hacking up a lung every few minutes. You’d probably still be on the pitch if I wasn’t making a big deal about this.”
“Exactly,” Leon says in exasperation as he throws his arms up. The motion sets off another series of deep coughs. “I could be finishing my training! It’s just the sniffles, nothing more.”
“Alright,” you say, and you sit beside him again. “If you don’t have a fever, then you’re right and I’ll leave you alone. If you do have a fever, then you need to promise to cooperate. Deal?”
Leon’s glassy eyes squint, though the effect of his frustrated glare isn’t much when he sniffles through it. You raise an eyebrow.
“Fine,” he says, but he doesn’t look at you.
You offer him the thermometer, he childishly snatches it from your hand, then sticks it in his mouth. You adjust the quilt around his shoulders, fluff his pillows for him, and mindlessly brush his bangs from his face. His eyes widen at the motion, then his gaze flicks to the side again.
Hm, his cheeks are looking quite pink… he definitely has a fever.
The thermometer beeps, you pluck it from his mouth, and showcase that your prediction came true. You set the thermometer on his nightstand without a smug word spoken, but Leon can certainly read it on your face.
“Now that you’ll cooperate, do you want some orange juice?” you ask.
“No.”
“Some candy?”
“No.”
“How about some chicken noodle soup?”
Leon doesn’t immediately grumble anything, but instead fiddles with the stitching on the quilt.
“...with the spiral noodles?” Leon asks quietly.
“Mmhmm.”
Leon purses his lips (not for long since he can’t breathe through his nose), and he finally mumbles an:
“Okay.”
“I’ll go heat some up for you,” you say, and you give his hand a pat. He curls one of his fingers around yours, just to quickly retract his hand again. His cheeks are looking even pinker than before, now. Is he getting warm?
“Thank you,” he mumbles.
“Try to get some rest,” you hum, and after adjusting his blankets again, you head out of his room and into the kitchen.
You had a can of chicken noodle soup (with the spiral noodles) in your pantry, and you stuffed that and some cough drops in your bag before you came over. You rustle around Leon’s kitchen for a pot to start cooking his meal. As you stir and taste-test the soup every few minutes, you wonder how Leon’s feeling. He isn’t hacking so much, so as the soup simmers, you step to his room to peek.
He’s still propped up on his pillows, though his scowl is gone and his eyes are closed. He’s wrinkling his nose in his sleep, as if to push his bangs from his face without using his hands. You let a smile slip, and a plume of affection blooms in your chest. You step over as quietly as you can, brush his bangs from his face, and before you can stop yourself, you gently press your lips to his forehead.
“Sleep well, love,” you say softly. “I know you want to work, but you need to rest and heal too. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You’re not sure why you’re telling this to his sleeping figure - perhaps telling it to him awake would be much too embarrassing. Leon’s eyebrow twitches, so you stand as quickly and quietly as you can, suddenly embarrassed by your tender moment, and you step out of the room.
If you had stayed for a second longer, you would have seen how Leon’s cheeks tinged pink yet again, how he smiled to himself, curled against his pillows, and so sweetly repeated one word:
“Love.”
Raihan
It was movie night, Raihan’s favorite night of the week, because that’s the night he got to spend with you. More importantly, that’s the night he got to sit on his couch snuggled in blankets and sweaters and drinking tea and bantering back and forth with you as you barely watched whatever was on the screen. It was always such a good excuse to sit close, and it was so natural just to casually wrap an arm around the back of his couch, and he decided that tonight was the night he’d finally make it around your shoulders.
Movie night started out as a joke when you mentioned that you had never seen Love in the Time of Pokerus (a cult classic), and Raihan was absolutely appalled and he demanded that you come over that same night to watch it. You agreed, and even brought snacks. The next week, you were shocked that Raihan had never seen Pulp Fanfiction (another cult classic), and you demanded movie night round two. The week after, Raihan suggested you both should probably make movie night a trilogy in order to honor the true cinematic genius that was trilogies, and you agreed by saying it would be an insult to art if you didn’t.
Raihan had lost count of what number you were at, but you were definitely beyond a trilogy, beyond a quadrilogy, and beyond whatever you called what was after five movies. Movie night had even evolved into dinner and movie night when you came a few weeks ago to his apartment and he could hardly focus with how much your stomach was grumbling. You tried to tell him you were fine, and when he noticed how genuinely embarrassed you were, he lied and said he hadn’t eaten dinner yet anyway, so it really wasn’t a hassle to make you something.
It was, however, an excellent opportunity to show off his cooking expertise. Although he was hoping for affirmation to begin with, your enthusiastic praise actually made him blush. Then, your comment on his blush made him blush harder. Not his best moment, but at least it made you laugh.
Raihan practically skipped to his apartment, noticing how beautiful the autumn trees were and how crisp the air felt in his lungs. Leaves crunched beneath his feet like a jaunty melody to add to the giddiness welling in him. It was your turn to pick the movie, so that meant it was his turn to cook, and he already had your favorite meal planned. It was going to be perfect. You had told him to wear his comfiest sweater, and you would wear yours, because whatever you were going to watch tonight deemed it necessary. He was fine with that, because big sweaters on you made you even cuter. If you were wearing his big sweater, well, that’d be just icing on the cake. One step at a time, though.
As he unlocked his apartment Raihan decided that, yep, tonight was the night. He’d finally break the touch barrier. You’ve hugged before (Raihan made sure of that), but never for longer than a normal friend-hug would last. You’d be full of delicious food, tired from your long shift at work, and you’d be snuggled and comfy and cozy in all the blankets he’d set up. He’d have the window open a crack so you’d want the fresh air and the blankets at the same time, but because you’d be a little chilly, you’d need to sit closer.
It was the perfect recipe for cuddling.
After cooking and prepping and swallowing his excitement time and time again, you finally texted to say you were on your way. Raihan used to be embarrassed by how hard he was crushing (Leon would even say whipped), but now he couldn’t care less. He wasn’t sure how you felt, though, so he tried not to lay the flirting on too thick like he would otherwise, just in case that scared you off. He’d rather have you as a friend than not at all.
There was a knock on the door, and Raihan nearly jumped out of his skin. Okay, be cool, be cool. He checked his appearance in the reflective microwave door, tousled his hair just enough, and stuffed his hands into his pockets nice and casually. He sucked in a breath, then opened the door.
And, he let it out, unable to hide his smile when he saw you standing there in your oversized sweater and cheeks pink from the cold.
“Alright,” you said. “I’ve brought options.”
“Options?” Raihan repeated as he leaned against his doorjam, perfectly cool. “That’s not how movie night works.”
“I’ve already taken it to the movie night board of advisors,” you said as you invited yourself into his apartment. “And they approved.”
You bantered back and forth, just as you did every week, sidestepping around each other as you prepared to eat. You were stepping closer to him than you usually did, though, but maybe that was just in Raihan’s head? It did solidify his plan of finally making a move tonight, though. He even took the chance of brushing your waist as he stepped behind you, but he didn’t get much feeling beyond your thick sweater.
Once his initial excitement to see you ebbed, Raihan covered his yawn with his sleeve. He actually had a pretty busy day himself; early workout, then extra training with the new apprentices at his gym, and a training match with Kabu. And actually, the day before that was pretty busy too… he bit back another yawn at the thought.
“You okay?” you asked.
“Yeah, just tired,” Raihan said as he stretched.
“You better not fall asleep,” you teased, and Raihan rolled his eyes as he followed you to his couch.
You both decided on one of the corny holiday movies you brought, turned it on, Raihan adjusted the blankets, you took your regular places on his couch, and his heart was pounding in his ears. He couldn’t initiate anything too early though, he had to set the mood.
Were candles too corny? Too obvious? You liked candles though, right?
“You like candles?” Raihan asked. “A fan gave me one earlier, and it smells like vanilla. Since I didn’t make a dessert, I figured that would be fitting.”
You laughed, and Raihan smiled at the sound.
“Yeah, candles are good,” you said. “Are you getting sentimental on me, Raihan?”
“No,” Raihan huffed, though his smile was prominent on his face. “Maybe.”
He stood, lit the candle, set in on the coffee table, and while he was up, he got your tea and flicked off the lights. Everything was going according to plan, so he took the initiative of sitting a few inches closer the next time he sat down.
The movie started, and the opening scene was immediately corny. Raihan groaned, but when he looked at your reaction, you had your lower lip jutting out, you were leaning towards the screen, and absolutely eating it up.
“Are you getting sentimental?” Raihan asked incredulously. “These movies are so cliche!”
“That’s what makes them nice!” you huffed. You hugged a blanket to your chest in embarrassment. “Yeah some are dumb, but they’re all like, wholesome and warm.”
“Are you cold?” Raihan asked. He knew that’s not what you meant, but he’d snatch any opportunity he had tonight. “Here, let me help.”
He scooched closer, enough that your thighs were touching, and he flung his blanket over both of your laps. He set his arm around the back of his couch, then in a moment of pure, calculated risk, curled it around your shoulders instead.
You blinked a few times, and Raihan tried not to make his tension obvious, though he did let out a deep breath when you eased into his side. Neither of you spoke a word about it with your mouths, but as the movie played, your bodies spoke loudly enough when you curled your arm around his waist, and nestled into his chest.
Tonight was going perfectly.
It was all a little cliche: the movie, the blankets, the snuggling in autumn evening, but Raihan didn’t mind. This was the most comfortable he had been in a while, and his eyes slowly drooped as the night went on. He jolted into focus when you poked his stomach though, because apparently the credits were already rolling.
“That was a good one,” Raihan mumbled, and your laugh shook your shoulders, so it shook his.
“You didn’t even watch it,” you tease when you poke him again.
“Yes I did. The woman came from that big city to the small town, then she met a guy who was humble and she didn’t think she’d like the little town but she did, he taught her the true meaning of family or friendship or something, then they kiss and live happily ever after on their quaint farm.”
Whatever you mumbled next was incoherent, and Raihan chuckled again. He gently fiddled with the fabric of your sweater sleeve and his eyes started to droop again. How could he get you to stay for just a little bit longer?
He didn’t need to think long when you bashfully mumbled next.
“There’s a sequel…”
“Amazing,” Raihan yawned, and he inwardly pouted when you got up to start the next movie. He held his arm out when you came back, an obvious invitation that any other position would be absurd. You quickly nuzzled against him again as the opening scene started.
Raihan let out a yawn and let his eyes close. He actually was dozing at first, but when you started talking to him about the movie, he jolted into focus again. After your brief conversation, he felt how you melted against him, he pretended to let out another snore, then he curled closer to you. And suddenly, the credits were rolling again, and you were both laying on his couch, tangled in thick sweaters and blankets and each other.
“Raihan,” you whispered. “Raihan wake up, the movie’s over.”
He wondered what you’d do, so he kept his eyes closed. He did curl his arms around you tighter - sleeping people did that, right? He didn’t want the night to end.
“Raihan I’ve gotta go home,” you whispered. “I can text you later, okay?”
He didn’t respond, though he was certainly frowning in his head when you untangled yourself from him. He listened to you bustling about, probably collecting your things, but he wondered why you suddenly paused. He heard the soft pat of footsteps, he almost opened his eyes, then his nerves tingled when you pressed your lips to his forehead.
“Um, tonight was fun,” you muttered. “Sleep well.”
He heard you scuffle away, heard his door open, then close again.
Raihan bolted up.
Did you just… did you just kiss him?
His legs and arms and the rest of his body were haphazardly tangled in blankets, so Raihan stumbled to the floor when he tried to stand.
“Hey!” Raihan called. “Hold on!”
He could do that for you too, except aim a few inches lower and really make it the perfect ending to the perfect night. Luckily you were only halfway down the hall.
Yeah, movie night was easily Raihan’s favorite night of the week.
