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"Who the hell are you?"
Shen Jiu stared at the idiot who was also, unfortunately, his husband.
"Who do you think I am, you brute? No other person would pity you enough to bring you to the hospital after what you've done."
Liu Qingge frowned and struggled to his elbows, hissing when Shen Jiu came over immediately to help him.
"Stop struggling and let me help!"
He stilled and allowed Shen Jiu to fuss over him, fluffing up pillows by his side and tucking a stray hair behind his ear.
"Are you a nurse?"
"Do I look like a nurse?"
Shen Jiu could physically see Liu Qingge's brain working over that question. Truth was, he had dressed up as a nurse for their previous anniversary but he wasn't going to say it out loud and confuse his concussed husband even further.
"You're too mean to be a nurse," Liu Qingge finally said. "Even the ones that are extremely tired and snappy wouldn't talk to patients like this."
"Good deduction. What are your other guesses?"
"My...assistant? But no, I don't have an assistant."
"One last try."
"A lawyer who's come to sue me on behalf of their client?"
Shen Jiu had had enough.
"I'm your husband, you lumbering oaf. You got into a fight because someone passed a comment on the street and you have no self-control. The man's friend hit you on the head with a chair before running away."
Liu Qingge's mouth dropped open.
"You're my...husband? But you're so pretty!"
Oh. Shen Jiu hadn't been quite prepared for that.
Sure, they were affectionate with each other, but only during soft moments when they could be human beings instead of iron pillars ready to face the world. Liu Qingge called him pretty in the early morning light, right before they had to wake up for work and he was pressing kisses behind Shen Jiu's ear. Liu Qingge called him 'my darling' whenever he wanted to butter Shen Jiu up for something, be it an outing with his family or a quick fuck in the shower when they were both running late.
(Liu Qingge muttered 'my love' into his skin, every day before they went to sleep, deeply fond and indulgent in the way Shen Jiu would never see during the day light.)
But like this, the words were honest and striking and Shen Jiu had to sit down before he fell over from the sheer emotion he felt.
"Are you okay? Do I not say it often? You're very beautiful."
"Stop talking!"
Liu Qingge looked unsure now, and a little ashamed.
"If I haven't reminded you every day of my life how much you mean to me, then clearly I've been doing something wrong."
Shen Jiu got up and stumbled out of the room, hoping to find a nurse and get his grumbling, three sentences only husband back. This honesty was not good for his heart.
He came back with the nurse and immediately turned to the wall, unable to deal with the naked relief on Liu Qingge's face when he saw him.
The nurse checked his vitals and asked Liu Qingge a rapid-fire round of questions, before scribbling something on his notepad.
He thrust a packet of biscuits in Shen Jiu's hands.
"Try to get him to eat a little. The blow on his head combined with the medication has probably caused some slight memory loss, but he should be fine by tomorrow. Call me if he complains of any pain."
"Of course, thank you."
Liu Qingge waited till the nurse was gone before he opened his mouth to complain.
"You're nicer to the nurse than your own husband," he grumbled.
"The nurse was doing his job and not getting into idiotic fights," Shen Jiu reminded. "No matter how well meaning."
"Fighting for you is not idiotic," Liu Qingge said petulantly.
He took a biscuit and chewed on it, trying to be upset with Shen Jiu but losing track of his feelings and staring instead.
Shen Jiu finally gave into his feelings and pressed a hand to his husband's cheek.
"Don't do that again," he whispered. "You can hold your own and fight a dozen people, but seeing you on the floor bleeding is not something I ever want to see. No matter how justified you think your stupid reactions are."
Liu Qingge leaned into his palm, and with all the confidence of someone that had lost their memories, agreed with Shen Jiu, promising not to get into unnecessary fights.
“How did we meet?”
Shen Jiu snorted and shoved a biscuit into his mouth.
“I beat the shit out of you at the gym and you refused to accept defeat. Even called me a few choice words before I punched you again.”
Liu Qingge made a protesting noise around the biscuit.
“I hated you. You thought you were so clever and skilled, and I was just someone that could recently afford to go to a gym and I heard you running your mouth. I thought it would be nice to knock you down a peg or two.”
“That does sound like me.”
“You’re being quite agreeable today. Did the concussion knock some manners into you as well?”
“No, I’m still finding it hard to believe that we’re married,” admitted Liu Qingge. “Always thought my temper would keep people away for good.”
Shen Jiu’s eyes softened and he took Liu Qingge’s hand. He still felt uncomfortable with public displays of affection (however public a hospital room could be), but his husband needed comfort and he would give him that.
“It almost did,” he confessed. “I will not lie to you and say that we have a perfect marriage, and there were times when both of us almost felt the need to walk out. But regardless how I feel about stupid emotions and sentiment, I do love you. And I think you love me too.”
Liu Qingge simply hummed in response, and Shen Jiu scrambled to break the awkwardness.
“So,” he said, with a brittle smile. “Do you want to see pictures?”
Shen Jiu showed him pictures of their life together, their apartment and plants and all of the times Liu Qingge had attempted to cook. He had a dedicated folder of their date night pictures, because that one was the one time he could dress Liu Qingge to the nines and he would not complain. After a few minutes of blushing and cursing, he even pulled out a secret folder on his phone, simply titled ‘mine.’
And if Liu Qingge still wondered if they were married, the folder destroyed all his doubts.
It was a collection of pictures of him doing mundane things around their house. One where he was absently scratching his stomach as he clutched a cup of tea, one of him stepping out of the bathroom wrapped in an ugly purple towel, one of him mid-chew, with chopsticks in his hand and his brow furrowed.
But perhaps, his favourite was a set of pictures, one where he was asleep, with his hair fanned out behind him. Shen Jiu had wormed his head onto his chest and taken a picture like that, with a small smile on his face. The next one showed that Liu Qingge had turned in his sleep, and now was pressed up against Shen Jiu fully. And the last one, was when he woke up and smiled softly at having his husband in his arms.
Liu Qingge felt his throat tighten. It was like looking at someone’s most intimate moments, but that someone was him and he had the most beautiful, loving husband and like the great idiot he was, he couldn’t remember.
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, what are you sorry for now? Don’t apologise for the fight unless you mean it, and don’t apologise for losing your memories. Even I’m not mean enough to hold it against you.”
They stayed in silence until a nurse came to usher Shen Jiu out.
“Can’t I stay?” he asked, almost desperately.
The nurse gave him a look of sympathy.
“We’re going to keep him under observation for the night, which means waking him up every two hours and checking in on him. It would be better for you to be well rested to come take him home tomorrow.”
Shen Jiu nodded and kissed Liu Qingge on the forehead.
“Sleep well. I’ll be here tomorrow.”
By the time Shen Jiu got to the hospital the next day, Liu Qingge was dressed and ready to go. There was a knowing look in his eyes that almost made Shen Jiu’s knees give out in relief.
“My love,” he said, quietly. “Come here.”
Shen Jiu went to him and collapsed on his lap, hands coming up to clutch Liu Qingge’s face.
“You absolute imbecile. Do you know what it was like? Your head is rock hard but it’s not impenetrable!”
“I’m sorry.”
Liu Qingge let Shen Jiu hit his chest, a few dozen times until he felt better, whispering his apologies into his hair. He pulled back and kissed Liu Qingge, full of desperate relief and satisfaction.
“Never again.”
“Never again,” Liu Qingge vowed.
He rearranged Shen Jiu’s limbs around his body and stood up, supporting his thighs with one hand. He had finished all the formalities before Shen Jiu had arrived, not wanting to stress his husband out further.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Giving my husband the comfort he needs but won’t ask for.”
Shen Jiu grumbled, but settled more comfortably in Liu Qingge’s embrace. They were far too old to be doing this in public, though Liu Qingge’s sister had compared them to randy teenagers often enough. Shen Jiu pressed his face into his husband’s neck, hoping to get rid of the sterile hospital smell through skin-to-skin contact.
“Are you breathing on me!?”
“Keep walking, you owe me a year of favours for the stress you’ve given me.”
Liu Qingge squeezed his thighs and jostled Shen Jiu in his arms, just to hear him complain. Shen Jiu pinched him and began cursing creatively in Liu Qingge’s ear until they reached the car.
He smiled and let him continue talking about the ways he would kick Liu Qingge if he ever dared get into a fight again, not mentioning the fierce grip Shen Jiu had on his thigh as he drove. It felt nice to know that he was loved.