Chapter Text
jessamine khan was the first to realise just how strong thomas sakharov is. the story of how she realised goes like this -
jess is not often forgetful: despite her adhd and occassional episodes of short-term memory loss after burning out, she is rather good at recalling facts and information. unfortunately for jess, however, said memory does not extend to her extended episodes of hyperfocus leading to long hours, days, weeks where she remains holed up in her room or stationary on a seat on her laptop or with her nose in a novel until her eyes burn with the effort of staying open or she can no longer feel her fingers through cramps and burning tips. she has a great memory but a greater inability of knowing when to stop. that’s where her boyfriend thomas finds her.
thomas’ boots stomp outside on the porch to get the snow off and he grabs a pair of slippers from the waterproof basket, kicking his boots off and replacing them with his slippers, grabbing all of his things and stumbling inside of the cabin with a dignified yelp and clanking of wood on wood. he sighs and crouches down despite the unholy crunching of protests his knees give and calls out.
“jess, are you hungry? bubbe left us some leftovers in the pantry for bibimbap. we can try out the rice cooker your mom gave us.” he says, voice cracking every other word; testosterone has not provided him the kindest puberty - he has never been so hungry for in his life - but he’ll admit that the cracks have been rather affirming. it takes him a few minutes to realise jess hasn’t responded. he swallows as his mind jumps to the worst ideas, “jess?”
abandoning his skates and their shoelaces, then grabbing his cane left leant against the wall, he stands with a groan of protest from his knees and makes his way into the living room to find his lovely girl sat on the couch with no lights on except for her laptop screen glowing bright against her glasses. he sighs softly and makes his way over to the couch and sits down next to her, leaning his head against her shoulder lightly to see if he can figure out what she’s looking at via any pictures. unfortunately, her area of hyperfocus seems to be purely words so he takes time to rest sitting down and waits for jess to come to by taking on of her hands and gently massaging it.
it takes another forty-five minutes but it seems a need to use the bathroom slams into jess rather aggressively and she bolts up and skids down the hall into the bathroom. thomas barely manages to catch her laptop in his panicked instinct - her movements were very sudden and he very startled but not overwhelmingly panicked. normal, startled panic. he chuckles breathlessly regardless and takes a few calming breaths as he waits for jess who shuffles in a few minutes later leaning against the wall for support with a sheepish and sleepy expression that makes his heart melt.
“i, uh… i found a new research papers, about cultivation.” jess explains. she takes a few moments to rest and allow some dizziness to pass before helps thomas stand and joins him in the kitchen - explaining what she’s learnt and all of the papers she read in the day, what everything means, whilst thomas cooks dinner. he listens intently and asks questions when he feels confused or lost when she’s explained too quickly or underexplained but he gets the gist of it by the time he’s finished two bowls of bibimbap that they eat in the kitchen together at the table. he explains how his game went whilst he clears his airways using his chest physical therapy, with some help from jess with the percussions: how they lost this game in particular, explained some frustrations with his coach benching him more frequently now, how he’s quite bruised but overall he’s content. they chat, eat and giggle like school-children whilst flicking bubbly soap water at one another whilst doing the dishes. after thomas does his second round of chest pt, they watch a movie together whilst tangled up cuddling on the couch until jess yawns loudly.
“sleepy, sweetheart?” thomas asks softly, fondly, his fingers brushing lightly over jess’s curls which earns an adorable pout-and-whine combo that melts him again. jess shakes her head as best she can with his fingers in her hair and stubbornly buries her head against his chest.
“uh-uh. not sleepy! i am so–” she’s interrupted by another loud yawn that makes her jaw pop. he smirks at her and gets a light bap in response. “--not sleepy! stop smirking at me like thaaaat–”
“like what? like i’m right?” he teases, smirk still in place even as she grumbles and whines. after her mini-tantrum she huffs and grumbles an admission that she is a bit tired. his smirk softens and he kisses her cheek, a softly murmured ‘good girl’ following. jess squeaks at the praise and hides again whilst he snickers at her. she eventually wiggles away from him - still pouting - and he stands slowly with joints cracking and popping in a symphony of relief. jess sits up slowly, taking a pause once she’s up to gather her bearings whilst thomas keeps a gentle hand on her shoulder. he gets an idea.
“can i carry you to bed?”
jess starts and looks up at him in surprise but also with an underlying curiosity. she stumbles out, “p–pardon? carry me to bed?”
thomas nods, expression hopeful and nervous. jess hesitates. it isn’t that she doesn’t trust her boy - she would trust him with her life, if he let her - but… well, she forgets that he’s strong; he is becoming more reliant on mobility aids these days as he comes to terms with his recent diagnoses’ confirming and validating his pain being real, but he’s physically strong. she’s reminded when she agrees to his idea and she expects him to stumble (he does) and expects him to strain under her weight (he doesn’t). she squeaks again when she realises she’s close to a tea bag for her boyfriend to carry, her arms wrapping around his neck as he moves slowly but surely down the hall to their room with a stop to the fridge for waters.
jess giggles despite herself when she’s set down on their bed, earning a confused glance from thomas as he sits down to stretch and massage his knees. she shakes her head, “i just forgot you’re all muscly and strong. all ‘grr munkle grr strength’. you carried me like a tea bag!”
thomas snorts and shakes his head fondly as he uses a back scratcher to nudge their rollable medication tray closer to him, passing jess her pill bottles and then grabbing his own. he uses his inhaler and spacer, then clears his airways again by huff-coughing. his usual pills come next and a couple long glugs of water before he settles in bed with jess after she’s finished taking her medicine. he kisses jess’s forehead and is out in twenty minutes.
jess stays awake, her fingers brushing through thomas’ shortened curls - a recent change thanks to an unfortunate haircut from a different barber than usual leading to his regular barber performing an emergency trim to fix the issue that left his hair much shorter than usual and thomas grumpy and uncomfortable for weeks after thanks to the change - and thinks about ways she could get thomas to carry her more often when he can.
she also considers marriage as a sound excuse to be carried more often.