Chapter Text
He sighed before stripping his jacket and shoes and making his way over to the couch, flopping face-first into the occupant’s squishy tummy.
“Hello to you, too, sweetheart,” Seungcheol laughed, moving his book to the arm of the sofa to mark his place and stroking the man’s hair. “Rough day?” All he got in response were ticklish mumbles. “Jihoon,” he sang, “I can’t understand you. What happened at the studio?”
Jihoon propped himself up on his forearms, glaring--not necessarily at Seungcheol, he just happened to be nearest. “Ailee came in to bring me coffee because I was there overnight working on my music and the fucking manager waltzes in and takes my fucking coffee, drinking half of it while the other half ‘accidentally’ landed in my lap. He’s just mad because I took two extra days to finish the song from last week.”
Seungcheol hummed placatingly, “I hear you.” Jihoon got up on his knees before properly sitting in his boyfriend’s lap, curling in on himself--it was both adorable and frightening, Seungcheol mused, that Jihoon could curl into a ball small enough that he could wrap his arms around the boy with room to spare. Of course, Seungcheol knew it was mostly to do with his illness. “And how have you been feeling?”
Jihoon shrunk even further into himself, if possibly, and shrugged, suddenly becoming meek. “I dunno,” he mumbled, even as his head ached and his joints strained from so much use, even as he hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours and still wasn’t hungry.
“You have to communicate with me, baby, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he responded evasively, trying to make his way out of Seungcheol’s lap, but Seungcheol just tightened his grip. “Seungcheol.”
“Jihoon, you have to speak with me. I haven’t seen you in over 70 hours, and I need to know how you feel right now,” Seungcheol tried, brows furrowed.
“No, you don’t--you don’t need to know anything.”
“Jihoon, please,” Seungcheol tried again, grip loosening around the smaller boy. “Please don’t shut me out right now.”
Jihoon stayed silent, not moving but not protesting when Seungcheol pulled him closer, resting his head on the man’s shoulder. “It’s just a small ache,” Jihoon all but whispered, not looking at Seungcheol. “Nothing major, just a couple of joint aches and a headache, not the most extreme issue in the world,” he brushed off.
Seungcheol stayed silent for twice as long as Jihoon had. “You’re lying,” he finally whispered. “It hurts so much, but you’re brushing it off as nothing, aren’t you? You don’t want to seem like you’re whining or a burden or weak so you’re holding it away from me, aren’t you?”
“And if I am?” he challenged back snappily, brows furrowed as the pain made him irate and temperamental.
“Then I’d tell you you’re crazy,” he admitted slowly. “It isn’t whining to tell me that it hurts a lot. I want to be here for you, Jihoon, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me.”
Seungcheol watched as wetness slowly gathered in caramel eyes, Jihoon choosing to curl into Seungcheol’s chest, straddling him so he could be better hugged, and Seungcheol didn’t make a big deal of it when Jihoon began to cry, just pet his hair and wiped at the tears.
“Seungcheol,” he whispered, hiccupping. “It hurts so badly. I want to go to sleep so I don’t feel it. My joints are hurting so badly, and I feel so weak, but I don’t want to go back into the wheelchair. I don’t want to go back to the doctors either, I’m so tired of doctors and medication!” Seungcheol left a tender kiss on Jihoon’s forehead, wiping at the tears that kept falling. “And I haven’t actually had an appetite in over a month. Every glance is just one of pity if I’m limping in the office, and it’s so annoying.” Jihoon wiped harshly at his face before pulling his sleeves up to show freshly bandaged wrists. “It’s been so bad, and I hadn’t cut in months, but it’s been so hard.” Seungcheol took his wrists and brought them to his mouth, nodding with attentive eyes. Jihoon’s face was so distraught, muscles tense, eyes red, nose just as rosy, wrinkles marring his scrunched face.
“I’m hearing you, baby,” Seungcheol whispered as he pulled Jihoon closer to his chest.
Seungcheol gathered Jihoon tighter in his arms, standing up and carrying him to his own bedroom and asking him to stay put with another kiss to the forehead. He entered his bathroom, turning on his jacuzzi tub and dropping a bath bomb into the warm water. Entering his bedroom once more, he picked Jihoon back up, bringing him to the bathroom. With a smile, Seungcheol sat on the edge of the tub with Jihoon on his lap, tugging at the shirt and pants, asking for permission, Jihoon raising his arms in affirmation. Once Jihoon was undressed, Seungcheol slowly placed him in the water and turned on the pulsers. He grabbed the cup off the edge of the bathtub, using it to gather warm water for for Jihoon’s upper chest and shoulders.
“This isn’t much,” Seungcheol admitted in a quiet voice as he massaged the small man’s scarred wrists, “but it should take away some of the soreness for tonight. I’ve got some food on the stove for you to eat when you’re in bed since I’m sure you haven’t eaten anything in awhile.” Seungcheol sighed, a small smile on his lips as he ran a large hand through soft hair. “You’re amazing, you know,” he announced randomly, scooting forward on the tub’s edge so he was closer to Jihoon. “So amazing and strong, and you have all of my respect.” Jihoon gave him a small smile, sinking further into the bath. “Your birthday is coming up at the end of this month,” he added, “and I’ve already something planned, so I hope you’ll keep it clear.” Jihoon nodded, and Seungcheol got off the ledge of the bathtub to kneel on the floor in front of Jihoon, planting a kiss on his cheek.
Jihoon turned his head to meet the affection, a shy smile brought forward--they didn’t kiss on the lips much, the intimate action reserved only for special moments, and they hadn’t had sex despite often seeing each other without clothes or taking a shower together, their primary source of affection small gestures such as hand-holding, head kisses, and hugs despite being in a relationship for nearly six years. The kiss was slow, eyes closed and hearts beating quickly despite the calm settling in their hearts. Everything would always be okay.
“I love you,” Jihoon admitted strongly once they broke away, eyes still closed.
Seungcheol kissed him on the nose before resting their foreheads together. “I love you as well, my light.” Seungcheol had one hand cupping the face in front of him, stroking rhythmically the soft apple of his cheek. He smiled brightly at Jihoon, happiness bubbling in a way that made him giddy. After another ten or so minutes of silence, Seungcheol spoke up again. “Has the bath worked at all in lessening the ache?”
Jihoon hummed. “Quite some bit, but I think I’ll have to use the wheelchair tomorrow, which means you’ll most likely need to wheel me to the studio unless I can convince someone else to do it.”
Seungcheol shook his head. “Try again, baby. You need to stay in bed tomorrow. The day after that, however, I’d be glad to take you to work.” Jihoon gave him a look but Seungcheol’s face told him he wasn’t going to back down, so he sighed instead, nodding. “Do you want to stay in a bit longer or should I grab some clothes and a towel for you?”
“I’d like to get out.” Seungcheol nodded and grabbed some clothes for him along with a towel before helping Jihoon stand (they both knew the smaller boy wouldn’t be able to get up by himself, so he didn’t protest the action as he would’ve on a normal day), wrapping the towel around his wet body before lifting him out of the tub and onto the soft carpet below him. Drying the man with the utmost reverence and care, sure to keep his touches light, he helped him dress, carrying him into the bedroom and sitting him on the edge so he could dry the blonde hair with the damp towel while the tub drained.
Gently, he rubbed the towel over dripping hair, making sure he didn’t accidentally yank on the sensitive scalp. Kissing the newly-dried hair, Seungcheol stood up. “I’ll get you some food, you try to get comfortable.”
Seungcheol came back with a bowl of warm soup and kimchi fried rice on a tray, getting into bed beside his, curling around the upright figure that had begun to eat.
“How was your day?” Jihoon asked quietly. Seungcheol shrugged, comfortable in not telling him about the shit-storm of a day and staying there to rub against Jihoon like a kitten. He shouldn’t be taking the attention away from Jihoon anyway if Jihoon was in so much pain… “Choi Seungcheol, if I did not get out of speaking to you, then there is no way in hell you are getting away with not speaking to me.”
“I’m already speaking to you,” he mumbled into the fabric of Jihoon’s shirt, Jihoon’s arm jerking back to knock Seungcheol’s chest. “Okay, goodness,” he grumbled, sitting up. He sighed, not feeling like going over the day. “It was just a shit storm at the school. A kid bit another kid, a kid gave another kid a black eyes and possibly a broken foot, a different kid burst into tears because they wanted to go home and it took me over half an hour to get him to stop crying, another kid threw up all over my pants and shirt, while another threw up on my shoes, three kids were transfered into my class, two of the teachers that are soon to be married with each other got into a yelling battle and I had to end it because apparently I’m everyone’s personal mediator, the principal called me into his office twice because of different incidents throughout the day, four different parents were upset because of the terrible day so they took it out on me, I missed my alarm this morning because I was up until nearly three doing things, I wasn’t able to call my mother for her birthday until I got home so she was yelling at me, my sister called and just borrowed 200,000 won from me because of something, I don’t even know, and most likely won’t be able to pay me back, my nephew called saying my brother was being an ass so he’s coming over for the weekend because his father is just about ready to snap someone’s neck, my water cut out this morning, I’ve been running a low-grade fever all day, my pay almost got cut, I had four parent-teacher conferences today, and Muel-ah called saying he was going to be over for a good month beginning at the beginning of next week because his mom said she had to go on a business trip and I don’t have a choice, so he’ll have to come to school with me while he’s here with us, and my carrots went bad,” he finally finished with a defeated slump back onto the bed.
“Sounds like your day was busy,” he responded, a soft smile on his face as he left a hand on his thigh. “Were you at least able to go to the gym like you’d wanted?” Seungcheol shook his head and Jihoon hummed. “Well, it’s Thursday, and the week is almost over, baby, things will work out, I’m sure of it.”
“I know,” he sighed, “I’m trying to stay optimistic but the day was so long.”
“Maybe we should both go to bed early, then,” Jihoon suggested. Seungcheol hummed, taking the cast-aside tray, and came back from the kitchen quickly, crawling under the sheets to cling to Jihoon.
“You’re so warm,” he sighed happily, “I’m glad you came home tonight.”
Jihoon hummed, tightening his grip around the older. They got as close physically possibly, Seungcheol finally tearing up from the stressful day, but he pushed them away--there had been enough tears; he was done with crying and tomorrow was a new day.
“I love you.”