my name is bug! i go by they/them pronouns! i have been in the whump community for a while now and i wanted to make a blog to organize everything and try my hand at writing things!
anyways as for the actual blog, expect reposts, short prompts, and writing from me! i’ll mostly be writing oc whump! all the links for lore, characters, etc is below but i do my best to make my whump enjoyable even if you know nothing about my characters.
everyone is welcome to my blog unless you're a bigot! especially the lgbtq+ community! i love you all!! okay enjoy!
links! ➼
simon and archie (vigilante/hero whump)
gene and cassidy (cowboy/western whump)
scarab crew (sci-fi/team whump)
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im a little bit picky about my whump so here are some of my likes n dislikes!
loves (stuff you will likely encounter here) ✭
caretaker turned whumpee
fevers / colds / illnesses
injuries (mild)
hypothermia / cold whump
heatstroke / hot weather whump
emotional whump / guilt (though i usually pair it with physical whump)
sleepy whumpee / exhaustion
different time period whump (the wild west mostly)
environmental whump
tooth-rotting fluff
snarky caretakers and/or whumpees
whumpers turned whumpee (within reason)
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maybes (stuff you might encounter here but will be properly tagged) ✭
injuries (serious, graphic, never fatal)
drugged / drunk whumpee (never fatal)
vomiting / emeto / stomach bugs as whump
mentions of suicide / suicidal ideation
mentions of homophobia (internal and external)
mildly nsfw content
+ more (will update, and will always tag necessary things)
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dislikes (stuff you absolutely wont encounter here) ✭
ANYTHING noncon nsfw
extreme gore/violence
hurt / no comfort
cancer / terminal illness (this is an MAJOR active trigger for me)
self harm / suicide (this is an active trigger for me)
major character death
pet whump / dehumanization
eating disorder whump
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DNI!!!! (instant block) ✕ ✕ ✕
the usual (racists, homophobes, terfs, etc etc.)
solely nsfw blogs (if your nsfw is properly tagged we're good!)
gore blogs
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well that pretty much it!! i hope you enjoy this blog as much as i enjoy whumpblr and feel free to send questions or prompts or ask in my inbox!
@featherlovesrobots i finally braved my inbox and.
are. you. kidding.
FEATHER. this is actually one of the cutest pieces of art i have ever seen ever oh my GOD???? they look??? so squish???? so cutie pie????
ARCHIES FRECKLES!!!!! MY GOD!!!!!!!! im beyond enamoured you captured them PERFECTLY. simons little face. their hug. god feather i love you i am so so so grateful THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!
i promised two fics and i am nothing if not a bug of my word
enjoy simon suffering for the 1249304232987932th time!!!! this is one of my all time favorite tropes so this was a blast to write
whumpee: all of them
caretaker: simon (but its all of them)
cw: mentions of vomiting + character vomiting but no graphic descriptions or really any description at all. youll see what i mean
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
DAY ONE
“I’m not hungry.”
“Archie, you have to eat.” Simon pressed the bowl of soup against his chest. “Come on.”
“Noooo…” He whined, turning his face away and shuddering.
“You’re sick. You need to get your strength up. You haven’t eaten at all today, dude.”
“I don’t feel good…”
“Yes. Hence the caldo de pollo.”
“Mmmgh…”
Simon sighed, setting the bowl down on the nightstand. “Fine. You win. For now. We’ll try again in a couple of hours.”
Archie let out a soft breath through his nose and flopped back on the pillows, satisfied for the time being.
Simon pressed the back of his hand to Archie’s cheek and clicked his tongue at the heat he found.
“That fever’s stubborn,” He mumbled to himself. “You sure you can’t handle more medicine?”
“Simon, I already told you I’m nauseous… I just wanna sleep…”
Simon raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop bothering you. Get some rest, okay?”
Archie nodded and wrapped the thin blanket Simon gave him tighter around himself.
Simon leaned down and pressed a kiss to his warm brow, and patted his shoulder as he collected the bowl of soup, shut out the lights, and closed the door behind him.
Flu season.
So many of Simon’s coworkers were already taken out by the beast that is influenza, and Simon figured maybe, just maybe his personal life wouldn’t be affected this year.
Of course, with his luck, he was very wrong.
This flu hit Archie like a truck. No gradual descent into madness, no, he was completely fine one minute and the next he was shivering under ten blankets barely able to remember his name.
By the grace of god, he was already staying over at Simon’s place so there was no need to wrestle him to the apartment. Still, Simon was a little worried.
Archie was a big boy. It was just your standard flu and he’d be fine, of course, but Simon knew that Archie had been overworking himself yet again the weeks prior. He was hoping this is the worst the flu would get, but then again, who knew?
He was just about to begin packing away the soup in the fridge when he heard a soft knock on the door.
With a raised eyebrow, set the bowl down, wiped off his hands and swung open the door.
“Vivian?” He tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”
Lord, she was in a state. Her hair was sticking up in places he didn’t think were possible and her cheeks were alarmingly flushed. Her arms were wrapped around her despite it barely being under seventy degrees out. Simon had a feeling he knew what was going on.
“I’m sorry.. I didn’t call ‘cause my phone’s dead and I can’t find my charger. I just came to ask if… um… you have any medicine? I have a cold. I ran out,” She murmured, holding herself a little tighter.
Simon clicked his tongue. “Vivian, come in. You look like shit.”
She just scoffed playfully but she didn’t try to deny it. She knew as well as Simon that this was a far cry from her usual energetic affect.
Simon guided her to the couch and went to fetch the thermometer, a glass of water, and some NyQuil.
“Talk to me. What are your symptoms?”
Vivian just pulled her knees up to her chest and groaned. “Headache. Chills. Sore throat. Nausea. Haven’t been able to stomach anything.”
“Open up,” He said, placing the thermometer under her tongue. A few moments passed before it beeped, and Simon looked at it with a heavy sigh.
“You’re burning, Viv. This isn’t a cold. It’s probably the flu. It’s going around.”
“You can’t be serious.” She buried her face in her knees and pulled tighter. “I still have classes tomorrow. I have to go grocery shopping too, I genuinely have nothing in my dorm right now, and my roommate has finals so I don’t want to disturb her and—”
“Viv, hey, calm down. Okay?” Simon put a steadying hand on her shoulder and sat next to her, pulling her into a side hug. “You can stay here. Archie’s also sick, he’s sleeping in my bed right now. It’ll be good to have you both under one roof.”
Vivan sniffled and leaned her head on her cousin’s shoulder. “You’re sure? I don’t wanna intrude”
“I’m sure. Promise. Is there anything you need that you left at your dorm?”
Vivian shook her head. “No. I always keep a change of clothes in my car. S’all I really need.”
She trailed off with a jaw-cracking, eye watering yawn and Simon smiled fondly at the sight.
“Alrighty then. I’ll get the air mattress set up in the office for you again. Take a little cup of medicine, then to bed with you, okay?”
Vivian nodded. She didn’t need to be told twice.
DAY TWO
Caring for two sick, delirious, fever-ridden people is a lot like working in the hospital, Simon found.
Well, not actually of course, but some of the similarities were uncanny.
For one, he felt like his presence was being summoned about every half a second.
“Simon? Can I please have another blanket?”
“No, Archie. I already told you. Your fever is way too high.”
Tears welled in the blond’s eyes and he buried it into his nest of pillows. “Why do you hate me?”
Simon sighed, exasperated, but he was cut off by the sound of clattering, banging, and rustling.
“Shit.”
He raced over to Vivian’s current room and dropped to his knees in front of her.
“Hey, hey, what was that? Are you okay?”
“I’m so sorry… I was just trying to get more medicine.”
Simon followed her gaze to the horizontal bottle of NyQuil on the desk that was slowly dripping onto the nightstand, and bit back a curse as he swiftly righted it.
“Shit…” That was the last bottle he had in the house. Inconvenient? Yes. End of the world? Nah, he would figure it out.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I can leave if you want, I didn’t mean to—”
“Shh, no, it’s okay Vivian. You didn’t mean to. It’s okay. We still have a little left, see?”
Vivian took a couple of steadying breaths and wiped stray tears away from her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I promise. Just try to go back to sleep while I clean it up and get you more medicine.”
Vivian nodded solemnly and disappeared into her blanket.
“Simon!” Archie called from down the hall. “I’m too cold to sleep!”
Simon closed his eyes. It was going to be a long night.
DAY THREE
The house had descended into madness.
Sleep was a concept so foreign to Simon, it’s possible he forgot about its existence.
After all, it’s hard to sleep when you have two walking germs that require attention every five minutes minimum.
Simon shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face.
Okay, so maybe the lack of sleep was making him cranky. Sue him.
“Archie, please. You have to eat. The three spoonfuls of broth you had last night do not count.”
Archie just pouted and leaned his head on Simon’s chest. “I can’t, I feel like I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying. You’re hungry. You need the fuel to fight this off.” His expression shifted into something softer. “Please? Just half the bowl. For me?”
Archie sighed heavily and lifted his head from Simon’s sweater’ “Okay. Fine.”
“Good job.” Simon handed Archie the bowl and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone. “Eat as much of it as you can— Vivian?”
Vivian was standing in the doorway, clutching a blanket around her shoulders, swaying. Tears were running down her face.
“¿Dónde está Mamá?” She whispered, wiping at her eyes with a fist.
Shit. Hallucinations? He knew she was doing bad, but he had no idea she was this bad. He needed to get that fever broken fast.
“Okay, you finish eating that,” He said to Archie, pressing a spoon into his hand and rushing to Vivian’s side. Archie’s brows pinched in worry, but he obeyed.
She all but collapsed into him, trembling, and he wasted no time wrapping his arms around her. Her breath hitched with stifled sobs. “I want Mama,” She whispered.
“I know. I know. Can we get you back to bed so I can check your fever again?” He murmured into her hair, rubbing up and down her back.
She nodded pitifully and allowed Simon to guide her to the next room over and onto the mattress. Her eyes were periodically slipping closed at this point.
“Mama’s not here, but I am, okay? I’ll take care of you. I promise.” Simon cleaned the thermometer with his t-shirt and noticed vaguely that his hands were shaking. Huh. Weird.
“Open up.” He placed the metal tip under her tongue and waited for that all too familiar beep.
“103.2. Jeez Vivian, you’re not doing this half-ass, huh?”
She simply sniffled and pulled her blanket tighter.
“Alright, maybe not the time for jokes. That’s on me.” Simon poured another dose of medicine and handed it to her. “Take that and go back to sleep.”
Vivian listened easily, which was a breath of fresh air after Archie insisted on somehow defying everything Simon said.
With one last glance at Vivian before shutting the door, Simon had one blessed second to collect himself.
This had to be the worst of it, right?
It had been two and a half days straight of pure hell for the patient zeroes, surely there had to be a light at the end of the tunnel.
Simon, admittedly, wasn't feeling his best either. Six total hours of sleep and leftover pizza hastily scarfed down as his only sustenance will do that, of course.
He sat on the couch, head hanging, and rubbed at his face. His shoulders gave an involuntary shiver.
Jesus, when did it get so cold?
Just when he was about to grab a hoodie off the back of the couch, Archie came shuffling out of the room with the empty bowl of soup clutched to his chest.
“You ate it all?” Simon asked, lifting a brow.
Archie nodded. “Realized I was hungrier than I thought. How’s Vivian?”
Simon smiled at that. “She’ll be okay. Leave the dish on the counter and go get some more sleep. I’ll wash it.”
Archie’s brows furrowed in a way that told Simon he wasn’t quite done talking. He placed the bowl on the counter, but then made his way to sit next to Simon on the couch. He placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You’ve been taking care of me and her so well, but you’re also probably gonna catch this at some point. How’re you feeling? You doing okay? Have you slept at all?”
His words carried a lucidity that Simon hadn’t seen in days and it overwhelmed him with relief. He was so close to the end of this nightmare. He just had to stick it out a little longer. So, he lied.
“I’m totally fine. Promise. I just want you two to feel better.”
“You sure?” Archie spoke through a muffled yawn.
“Mhm. Medical professional over here. I know how to avoid the plague, unlike you two,” He teased.
“Mmmkay,” Archie sighed, bringing his knees to his chest and weaseling his way into Simon’s arms.
Simon accepted him easily, hugging him and kissing his forehead. It seemed that his fever was lower. That was a good sign, finally.
Just when he was going to mention it, he heard soft, even breathing and decided against it. Maybe a little cat nap wouldn’t hurt for him, either.
DAY FOUR
Simon startled awake to the front door clicking open, then closed. His heart just about jumped from his chest. He shuddered at the brisk morning air whooshing from the door.
“Sorry. I just went to get my sweater from the car. Didn’t wanna wake you or Archie.”
Simon dizzily brought his gaze down to where Archie was sprawled on the floor, tangled in the throw blanket, and lifted it back to Vivian.
Something was wrong.
Simon felt wrong. The mild discomfort he’d felt the night before had become exponentially worse.
Everything hurt. His head, his stomach, his arms, his legs, his eyes, which he hardly knew was possible— it all became just one giant ache. He felt another shudder wrack his body.
Still, Vivian, who should be in bed, was standing right there, and that simply wouldn’t do.
“Viv… are you— how are you doing?” He stammered, blinking back waves of vertigo. His head was throbbing harder now.
She shrugged, leaning on the doorframe of the hallway. “Better, I guess. Still got a headache, but I’m not hallucinating anymore, thank god. I think the fever finally broke.”
Simon swallowed thickly and nodded. “Good. Tha’s good. Uhm, you take more medicine?”
“Not yet. There's only one dose left, I figured I’d see how Archie’s feeling before I take it for myself.”
Simon didn’t say anything. In fact, he simply could not. His vision was whiting out at an alarming rate and he feared if he opened his mouth, he’d vomit or faint or both.
“Simon, are you okay? You just went, like, deathly pale.”
His body tingled painfully. His head was swimming. All he registered before his muscles gave out and sent him careening to the floor was the chorus of curses leaving his younger cousin’s lips.
DAY ?
Simon was underwater.
Wait, no. That’s wrong. He’s human.
It sure felt like he was though. His eyes stung with tears and his throat felt thick and raw. He was in danger, at the very least.
A distant voice got closer. He couldn’t quite recognize it. Something ,something fever. Something, something medicine.
Yeah, maybe that made sense.
Oh who was he kidding. Nothing made sense.
He could have sworn he heard his mother down the hall. Or maybe it was his supervisor?
No, wait, it was the shop owner from across Archie’s apartment. Of course.
Suddenly, something sickly and bitter smelling on a spoon was shoved in front of his face.
“Come on, you gotta take it. Just open up.”
He didn’t really know what words came out of his mouth, but whoever was holding this spoon sighed exasperatedly and pressed it closer to his lips.
Simon jerked away and the spoon went flying from the disembodied hand. Red, sticky syrup flew everywhere.
“Shit! That was the last dose.”
Dose? Like a dose of poison? Phew, Simon sure dodged a bullet. Maybe he should get up and call the cops or something.
His eyelids slipped closed despite himself. It would have to wait, he supposed.
DAY ??
Somehow, it was snowing inside.
Nothing else could explain the way every cell in his body seemed to be on the verge of becoming ice.
He shivered and shivered and shivered, but it didn’t help. Nothing did.
Something akin to a plea left his lips.
“No, Simon. I can’t give you another blanket. Your fever’s sky high. Archie will be back soon with more medicine. You’ll feel better then, okay?”
He couldn’t help but cry. He was so cold. His bones somehow felt frozen. He sank deeper into the thin blanket he was subdued with.
The figure in the chair beside him sighed and got closer.
“You can’t make fun of me for this later,” It said.
Next thing Simon knew, a warm body was being pressed against him and almost reflexively, he wrapped every limp around it. Sleep came a bit easier once the trembling subsided.
DAY ???
“There you go, let it out buddy.”
His body was betraying him. It was trying to turn inside out.
Truthfully, he wasn’t quite sure of what was going on. He was vaguely aware of something hollow and plastic against his chest and a cold hand against his forehead, pinning back his bangs.
He lurched suddenly, and his mouth tasted bitter.
DAY ???
There was a dull throb against Simon’s head, almost like an ice pick being driven into it.
He was awake, but something told him opening his eyes would make it exponentially worse. A soft whine escaped his lips.
“Hey, you. You up?” A soft, familiar voice said. Simon knew that voice.
“Archie?” He finally cracked open a lid, squinting at the light.
“In the flesh.” Archie picked up a glass with a straw sticking out and extended it towards Simon. “Drink. You sound horrible.”
Simon didn’t argue. The water was like heaven against the terrible, dry taste in his mouth. He drank until Archie gently pulled the cup away and set it down.
“Slow down. Don’t want you getting sick again.”
Simon paused.
“Again? What time is it?”
The last thing he remembered was getting Vivian settled down and getting Archie to sleep. Maybe he vaguely remembers seeing Vivian coming in through the front door earlier in the morning—
“Two. AM.”
Simon’s heart sank. That didn’t make sense. The last time he checked the clock it was barely nine in the morning. He had just woken up. He still had chores and work to do, not to mention Archie and Vivian. He—
It came back to him. The collapse. The fear. The confusion. The delirium. All of it, all at once.
When he finally got a good, lucid look at Archie, he saw that he wasn’t smiling. His face was carefully neutral.
“I’m not—” He stilled with a breath. “I’m not going to give you the ‘I told you so’ spiel. This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. It won’t be the last.”
Simon was like a deer in headlights. With the memories, the shame also came back and he was in no position to say anything.
“We were really worried. Really worried. I mean, I had to practically wrestle the phone out of Vivian’s hand when she was trying to call 911.”
Archie rubbed a hand over his face and in the light, Simon could see how withered he seemed.
“Why didn’t you say anything? I thought— I trusted you to take care of yourself. You said you were fine. I believed you. I thought you’d be, y'know, sensible enough to know your limits.”
Archie let out a heavy, emotional sigh and placed a hand on Simon’s chest. It was shaking.
“If I had known this was going to happen, I would have just gone home and dealt with my flu on my own. I don’t— I, and Vivian too, don't like to be the cause of stuff like this.”
Simon decided to ignore the ‘pot calling the kettle black’ of it all. This sort of thing happened often. Too often to count. He and Archie had talked about it before, but this was the first time he’d ever seen him so severe about it. He figured he must have been in pretty bad shape. It didn't seem to be the time to argue.
“I know. I’m sorry. I was stupid. I thought I could handle it— I just wanted to see you two through the worst of it before I went down, but I guess I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.”
Simon wasn’t sure what he expected, but Archie’s eyes filling with tears certainly wasn’t it.
“You’ll take better care of yourself?” He whispered.
Simon nodded. Whether it was a lie or not was between him and whatever deity was still willing to deal with his bullshit. “You want to lay down with me? You’re still sick.”
Archie took the offer easily. He slipped under the covers and rested his head on Simon’s shoulder. His face didn’t have the unnatural warmth from before, but then again, Simon still wasn’t sure if his fever was completely gone or not.
“I’m sorry again,” He whispered into Archie’s curls.
Archie sniffled. “I forgive you.”
There was a short pause and Archie squinted as if he just remembered something.
“Though, I don’t think that’ll cut it for Vivian,” He started. “When she comes back from the store and sees that you’re lucid, she just might kill you.”
Simon sighed. “I don’t doubt it.”
“If you start running now, you might just escape.”
“Mmgh. Too tired. I accept my fate.”
The last thing Simon felt as he let his eyelids slip closed was the soft vibrations of Archie’s laugh in his chest.
“Sick at a formal/important event” will always be the top, I think, but “sick at a celebration” is also so so good. Someone trying their absolute best to be cheerful and have a good time and eat and drink and they just feel so miserable the whole time. Maybe they feel bad for bailing, too, because true celebrations of something are so rare sometimes. They want to tough it out and want to honestly enjoy some of it. Everyone’s earned that, right?
Accidental trauma reveal my love. When friends or enemies unintentionally discover Whumpee’s tragic background. For instance
The classic nightmare scene. Whumpee has never slept with people close by for this very reason. Unfortunately, they don’t have a choice this time, and they do, in fact, scream (or cry) in their sleep, in front of someone/everyone.
The person behind the trauma suddenly reappearing in Whumpee’s life. Whumpee losing it—running away, hiding, refusing to engage with anyone. Or even better, trying so hard to pretend they’re okay until they just. Shatter.
Truth serums, spells, and items. Flippantly asking Villain, “Why do you keep doing this?” only to get a gut-wrenching answer in return.
The mind probe. Whumpee is sick/unconscious, and someone does the magical mind probe (I swear this comes up so much in media) to figure out what’s wrong and stumbles on Whumpee’s tragic past.
Teammates unknowingly triggering Whumpee for a while until Whumpee finally just screams it out. The looks of horror.
Also shout out to intentional trauma reveals. For trusting the found family enough to tell them the things that hurt the most.
Any other tropey goodness that results in Whumpee finally getting the comfort they deserve.
(wiping a tear) i never thought this day would come. i never thought these two dense, impossible boys would ever actually communicate. what a grand day indeed!
in all seriousness, i hope you enjoy! i put a lot of work into this fic, as well some wonderful mutuals that beta read for me. this is long overdue and though not too much will actually change, i feel like the slight dynamic shifts will be so fun to write...
enough yapping! here you go!
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
“Simon…”
Simon sighs, exasperated. “Yes?”
“Hi.”
“Hi, Archie, for the tenth time.”
Archie lets out a snort and nearly topples off the couch, his head precariously hanging off the edge of the armrest.
“Woah!” Simon catches him, his hand supporting the back of Archie’s head, tangling in his curls. “Stop that.”
“You’re upside down.”
“No, Archie, you’re upside down. You’re about to fall. Come on, get up so I can look under your suit.”
“Jeez, ‘least take me to dinner first…” He grumbles, sitting up and leaning against the arm rest.
“The wound,” Simon says through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, sure whatever you say,” He mutters, folding his hands behind his head.
With gloved hands, Simon carefully unzips the Vigil suit to just below Archie’s belly button and opens the fabric as slowly as possible. Archie doesn’t even seem to register the pain as the dried blood unsticks from his wound to reveal the jagged tear in the flesh. Simon grimaces.
“Are you almost done? I’m bored.”
“Shh. You’re still bleeding. And I also need to figure out what the hell they gave you.”
“Gave me? They didn’ give me nothin’. I’m fine!“
“Yeah? The way you’ve been talking the last thirty minutes suggests otherwise.”
“Yes, drugs, Archie. I think the knife was laced with something. Can you feel me touching the wound?” He punctuates the question by lightly grazing the edge with a knuckle.
“Wound, shmound. I don’ feel it, Simon. I’m like, evolved again. First super strength ‘n then.. then… super wound-not-feeling,” He slurs, reaching down to poke at the wound himself to prove his point.
“Ah, Jesus, Archie, don’t do that!” Simon shouts, batting his hand away.
Archie simply huffs and crosses his arms as he watches Simon finish methodically cleaning the wound. When he switches to suturing, he considers it a small mercy that Archie still doesn’t seem to be bothered by the pain.
Another ten minutes pass in blissful silence before Archie begins to shift, tilting his head back to rest against the armrest of the couch and then leaning forward once again.
Suddenly, he sits up with a dopey smile and grabs Simon by the wrist. The forceps and needle clatter out of his hand with a gasp.
“Archie—“
“H’ve I ever told you… that you’re so pretty?”
Simon’s face heats up instantaneously.
“Thank you, Archie. Now, let go of my arm. I need that.”
“No, listen. You’re so… so nice and so handsome ‘n pretty. I jus’ like your face. I think—”
“Archie, stop talking.” Simon’s heart rabbits in his chest. This is the drugs talking. Surely. There’s no other explanation.
Sure, the two have been close, but they’re just friends. Yeah, maybe Archie has been Simon’s closest friend and the only person that really knows him, but it has always been platonic. Obviously. Nothing more has ever been established. Archie is just high. That’s it.
“Don’t wanna. You’re all red. ‘S cute.” Archie giggles before continuing. “Always wanna… be near you. I didn’t wanna ruin this, but… y’know…”
Simon can’t move. He swallows reflexively.
What’s one to do in this situation?
It’s not like the feelings aren’t mutual. Simon has never truly considered his feelings for Archie romantic. He wants to be with him always. Yeah, he daydreams about his face and his smile and his eyes but he thought that’s just what best friends do.
… Is he in love with him?
Holy shit.
Simon has been in love with Archie for nearly a fucking year and he’s just finding out about it now?!
He feels lightheaded. This revelation has come at possibly the worst time ever. Archie is high. There is no shot he actually means any of this. All it's doing is driving Simon just a little bit closer to losing his mind. He swallows again and fixes his face into something calmer.
“Archie, just let me finish suturing, and then, you go to sleep, okay—?“
“I love you Simon. I just… I love you so much ‘n I wanna be with you.”
Simon is sure he’s going to pass out here and now.
This can’t be happening. God, or whoever else may be up there, is playing some sick joke on him. He’s sure of it.
“Archie—“
“Do you love me too?” He whispers, yanking Simon a little closer by the shirt.
Simon sucks in a breath, placing his hand over Archie’s and gently removing it. He’s glad Archie is too out of it to realize just how much his own hands are trembling.
“Yes. I do, but we can’t talk about this now. You’re not in your right mind.”
Archie pouts, but he doesn’t push it further. He leans back and huffs a breath and finds himself watching Simon once again.
Simon’s hands are shaking even as he finishes the last few sutures. Once he ties it off, he looks back up at Archie and finds him fast asleep.
A small breath of relief escapes his lips.
“Jeez, Archie,” He whispers. “That’s one way to end the night.”
He grabs a throw blanket from the basket beside his couch and drapes it over Archie, and his hand lingers over his shoulder for a fleeting moment.
He goes to bed.
••••••••••
Simon wakes up not feeling rested in the slightest. He’s almost certain he hasn't slept at all.
How can he? He is— probably— going to wake up and have Archie not remember anything and he’ll just have to live with it. The thought makes him feel sick.
He drags himself to the kitchen and nearly has a heart attack at Archie standing in the kitchen, making eggs while clutching at his side.
He rushes over. “You should not be up.”
“Hey, you were still asleep and I was hungry,” Archie laughs softly.
“C’mon. Go sit down. I’ll finish this up.”
Archie relents and limps over to the table. He sips at his coffee and shifts a little bit.
There's some kind of electric tension hanging in the air. Simon feels it. He knows Archie feels it too. It’s stifling and the steady beat of his heart kicks up with every passing second.
Simon doesn’t say anything. He just takes the steaming cup of coffee that Archie has left out for him and starts stirring the eggs in the pan.
Fuck it, he has to ask.
“So, um, how much do you… remember from last night?”
Archie stills. His shoulders stiffen and he stares down into his coffee like he can disappear into it.
“I’m really sorry, Simon—“
“How much?”
“…All of it. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want— I didn’t mean to make it weird. If you want me to leave I get it, and I don’t expect you to feel the same or anything—“
Simon doesn’t realize he’s up and moving until he’s pulling Archie in by the collar and his lips are crashing against his.
Nothing has ever felt more right in his life.
All the years— all the late nights and early mornings, all the stitches and wound-washes and bandages, all the falling asleep together and waking up in each other's arms, all of it— culminates to this very moment. Simon’s heart could burst out of his chest.
Archie presses back, hands fluttering up to Simon’s face to rub his thumbs along his cheekbone. Simon absolutely melts.
After a few seconds, he finally pulls away and stares at Archie’s flushed face.
“Did you mean all of it?”
“Fuck, yes, Simon. I’ve wanted you since the day I met you.”
Simon just sighs. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. He cups Archie’s face and gives him a genuine, sincere smile.
“I love you too. So much, Archie. Shit, man.”
They both huff a laugh and wrap up in each other's arms, breathing deep for a few moments. Simon’s hand reaches up to tangle in Archie’s curls and Archie’s snakes around Simon’s waist and pulls close.
It could have been hours that they stayed like that. Simon doesn’t know. He frankly doesn't care. He could have spent an eternity there with Archie.
He doesn’t know what's next. Everything has changed, but at the same time, nothing has at all. He doesn’t know and he can’t be bothered to untangle that right now.
It isn’t until he feels a soft tap on his back that he smells the sulfuric char in the air.
“Simon, the—”
“Shit! The eggs!”
He frantically pulls away and cranks the gas on the stove off, fanning the smoke with a dish towel. Archie stifles a giggle behind his hand as Simon flails around, trying to guide the smoke away from the smoke alarms.
Once it’s all situated, all that is left on the pan is a black, crumbly mess. Archie cocks an eyebrow up at Simon and shrugs.
“This gives us a good excuse to go on our first date, at least.”
“Oh shut up,” Simon muses, rolling his eyes. Still, he lets the burnt eggs slide into the trash and grabs his car keys from the table. “Well, where do you want to go?”
okay gang. TWO fics coming soon. hopefully within the next 2 days. i know this is probably only exciting to me but getting into the groove of writing is always exciting... thank u all for ur patience! especially my beloved mutuals!! have a great day!!!!!
