#i barely ate at home today and that has resulted in me having an ungodly amount of fries. like dude just like put a veg option that isn’t | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stxphxn-strange · 3 years

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(no) rest for the innocent

summary: Tony wasn’t even on trial, but the jury found him guilty and he couldn’t disagree.

a/n: idk last night i was thinking about tony dealing w survivor’s guilt after endgame (and IW) so i threw this together, tw for mention of death and implied thoughts of suicide

“Good evening, Doctor.” FRIDAY’s warm, pleasant voice always reminded Stephen of home and cinnamon scented candles. “How was your trip?”

“Too long for a meeting that could’ve been handled over email. Or through carrier pigeon, as Tony would say,” Stephen replied as his cloak sailed off down the hall.

He washed his hands carefully, drying them on an Iron Man dish towel that Peter had given them as a joke wedding gift before putting the kettle on.

As the water was boiling, he noticed a covered plate on the kitchen counter. There was an obnoxiously orange piece of paper in front of it, which made Stephen smile. Tony always left him little notes on purposefully electrifying paper, that way they were easy to find.

The sorcerer’s smile only widened as he read the note.

Steph—

I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, but I decided to make you dinner anyway. But not because I’m missing you and wanted to surprise you, I just accidentally cooked too much. You know how that happens sometimes and you just end up with an ungodly amount of chicken parm? Life’s funny like that.

Anyway, I’m in the lab. I had some good ideas earlier and I wanted to start them while I still felt productive. Welcome home sweetheart, and if you go to bed before I do (because you probably will, you responsible asshole you), sweet dreams and goodnight.

Love, Tones

PS— Orange you glad you met me? … don’t answer that, I just couldn’t help it and had to write that down.

Stephen rolled his eyes fondly. “Fri, will you tell Tony that even though he’s not funny, I’m very glad I met him?”

FRIDAY was quiet for a few moments before responding. “Boss says, quote, ‘fuck you Gandalf, I’m hilarious,’ unquote.”

Stephen smiled, heating up his meal before sitting down to eat. He flipped through a magazine while he ate, FRIDAY turning on some soft jazz music as background noise until Stephen cleaned up and left the kitchen. After a refreshing shower, the sorcerer found himself in his most comfortable pjs and slippers as he walked through the house. Stephen wasn’t sure if he was going to bed yet, but he wanted to see Tony (and maybe he wanted a kiss or two or even three).

The music in the lab automatically lowered when Stephen shut the door behind him, and Tony looked up with an expression that could only be described as tired.

Actually, he looked exhausted. Weary. Barely holding himself together. Stephen wasn’t a thesaurus, but very concerned about his husband.

Tony was trying to smile, but he seemed too exhausted to do that and just gave up, not saying anything as Stephen sat beside him.

“Hi.” Stephen leaned over and softly kissed his husband’s temple. “Thanks for cooking for me, you didn’t have to.”

Tony shrugged. “I had a lot of energy earlier, and I accidentally cooked way too much. Maybe it was intentional, you know I’d take any excuse to go out of my way for you.”

His words said one thing, but his tone betrayed him. His voice was brittle, hard, and almost staticky. Stephen thought he sounded like a rusted hinge that was trying not to cry out for repairs… or maybe that analogy only made sense given where they were.

Stephen kissed him again as Tony sat back at his desk, closing his well-used sketchbook. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Tired I guess.” Tony sounded as unconvinced as Stephen felt.

“Come to bed with me,” Stephen offered. “I’ll bore you to sleep by telling you about the meeting.”

Tony laughed hollowly. “That bad?”

“I don’t know how to describe it, but it was a waste of time. Even Wong was bored, and he watches the Antiques Roadshow remake for fun,” Stephen replied. He yawned and leaned against Tony’s side.

“I see what you’re doing,” Tony murmured, trying to be lighthearted. He was just feeling some kind of way right now, he felt serious and was so endeared by his husband that it hurt.

“What am I doing?” Stephen asked, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“Being cute and sweet so I’ll go to bed and let you be the big spoon,” Tony accused. “And maybe I just really fucking need a hug, but… it’s working.”

Stephen shifted and pulled Tony into his arms, holding the mechanic close as he went lax.

“My Boss Is Singing Closing Time Protocol please, Fri,” Tony mumbled.

“Goodnight Boss, goodnight Doctor,” the AI replied, beginning to run the lab’s standard closing protocol.

“Portal?” Stephen asked. Tony was getting better with going through portals, but some days were harder than others. Stephen didn’t know what tonight would be like and opted to ask, selfishly wanting to make sure Tony got some rest as soon as possible.

He was so out of it by that point that Stephen wasn’t sure if Tony registered the question, but he nodded slowly and trusted Stephen to lead him through it and into their bed.

Despite “resembling a sloth clinging to a tree bough,” (Tony’s words) Stephen was intuitive and knew when not to hug Tony. Even when he was asleep, if Tony woke up thrashing or fighting against something in a dream, Stephen let him go.

Tonight was a bit different. Stephen wasn’t brought to the edge of reality by Tony thrashing in their bed or accidentally tangling himself in their sheets, so he assumed everything was fine. That was until the sorcerer hugged his husband closer, still mostly asleep and just following his instinct, and Tony outright begged Stephen to let go of him. He wasn’t quite awake, but Stephen backed off immediately and heard Tony trip over his own feet as he left the room. The sorcerer fell asleep again after that, trying to stop the sound of Tony’s broken plea from cementing itself in his memory. When Tony climbed back into bed some time later, Stephen was stirring a little bit more. Tony hid his face in Stephen’s collarbone and said nothing, his breathing still slightly erratic.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” he mumbled.

“Don’ be,” Stephen replied, his voice unsure whether or not to wake up.

“Will you hold me again?” Tony asked pleadingly, his voice almost imperceptible.

Stephen wordlessly obliged, kissing the top of his head. “Whatever’s bothering you… you can talk to me about it. When you’re ready. And you don’t have to, but I’m here for you.”

Tony nodded. “It feels like too much right now. What I’m thinking about, I mean. I need time to process, I guess.”

“Okay,” Stephen said simply. “But I’m here for you whenever.”

“I know. I love you,” Tony replied.

Stephen began to trace soothing patterns on Tony’s back. “Love you Tones.”

++++

Tony didn’t seem any more rested the next day, but his confident Tony Stark™ pose seemed natural. He’d easily be able to fool people who didn’t know him as well as his family did. So it was a “fake it until you make it” kind of day, and Tony’s energy was on a strict schedule. There was only so much he could take today, and if his teammates wanted to call him selfish then that was their choice.

It would just go in one ear and out the other, especially this late in the day and after brutal team training. Tony was close to skipping the meeting, but a cutting remark in the hallway made him change his mind. Why did they always act like it was breaking news when Tony needed to step back from something anyway? He was just as human as anyone else, and the world was happy to throw responsibilities on his unenhanced, steady shoulders just because he was a natural caretaker.

The arguments about Tony’s quiet, withdrawn demeanor started two minutes into the meeting. Stephen was ready to defend his husband as soon as they got to the conference room, Tony collapsing into a chair and leaning his head against the cool metal of the table.

He didn’t want to talk today, and Stephen didn’t want him to.

“It’s not nap time, Stark.” There was a small hint of fondness in Natasha’s cold, clipped voice.

Tony was already regretting his decision to show up, wishing he hadn’t told Stephen again and again that he was fine. He wasn’t, and they both knew it. Everyone knew it, but Tony knew better than to advocate for himself in front of his… colleagues.

“I don’t even remember what we’re meeting about,” Tony muttered, looking up enough to address whoever was talking to him.

Rhodey took a seat beside Tony, encouragingly patting his back. “You good?”

“I’m fine, Honeybear,” Tony replied. He was sitting between his two favorite people, and that helped him feel a little more grounded. “I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

Someone scoffed. “I don’t think anyone’s slept right in months. And don’t say you haven’t slept in years, Stark. We don’t need a story about how everything you’ve ever done has led to years of sleepless nights. We know already. Put it in a book or something and make the team more money so I can have better arrows.”

Stephen was two seconds away from dropping the archer into the Dark Dimension, or flipping a table. He wasn’t sure how to handle the man yet, still taken aback by the rudeness and stupidity of his comment. “Barton, what the fuck—”

“Steph, don’t bother with him,” Tony said. He stood up, forcing his tiredness into a corner and giving his coworkers a confident glare. “Pardon me for giving it my all and being a bit tired as a result. Now I’m going to get an ice pack for my shoulder and maybe a cup of coffee. Does anyone want anything?”

“I’ll take a—”

“Get it yourself, you know where the kitchen is.”

For dramatic effect (and moral support), the cloak landed on Tony’s shoulders and billowed out as he left the room. He returned with the aforementioned ice and coffee, and a mug of tea for Stephen.

“You didn’t have to do that sweetheart, but thank you,” Stephen said appreciatively.

“That’s why I wanted to,” Tony replied. He relaxed a little into his chair, starting to believe he could get through the meeting.

Then, like clockwork, Clint opened his mouth to complain.

“Why did you bring him tea and nothing for the rest of us?” He whined.

“Doesn’t Tony do enough for you?” Stephen asked, innocently taking a sip of his tea. It was his afternoon green tea, made exactly the way he liked it.

Tony was always so sweet and attentive with his loved ones, it warmed Stephen’s heart. The sorcerer stifled a laugh as Rhodey poured half of Tony’s coffee into his own empty mug.

“Thank you,” the colonel said impishly. “Consider the roommate tax paid for this month.”

Tony tried to smile at the old inside joke, but Stephen noticed that it fell flat.

“Are we done with the interruptions? We need to talk about what’s out there. We don’t know if Thanos is the exception or the rule, and—”

Tony stopped listening. Clint’s snootiness was doing his head in, but the idea of another threat, another thing, another colossus he’d have to conquer and survive if his luck had anything to say about it… that was the breaking point.

Tony didn’t have a good relationship with luck. He didn’t really believe in it, but apparently it believed in him. Because Tony was lucky. It was true that he was lucky in meeting his husband, his friends, and his family, but this was a different kind of luck. Tony was intelligent and skilled, shrewd and savvy, and there was virtually nothing he couldn’t do or solve, except for one thing.

He was constantly lucky, constantly cheating death.

And he didn’t realize that he was hyperventilating, didn’t recall dropping his head into his hands. He didn’t recall that he’d just walked out in the middle of the meeting after a minute, didn’t realize that he was home when he opened his eyes.

Tony was home, in his spot on the couch in Stephen’s library. Stephen was sitting beside him, quietly watching a documentary or something like that. Tony was laying down, his head in Stephen’s lap with the cloak draped over him like a blanket. The crimson fabric continued to cling to him as he sat up, further proving Tony’s point that Levi liked him best, but he wasn’t in the mood to banter now. He just appreciated the support and the warmth of his sorcerer and their shared, sentient blanket.

With some hesitancy, Tony leaned over and rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder. They locked eyes for a minute, Tony’s gaze deliriously bright and vacant.

Stephen didn’t know what to say or do to make the man trembling in his arms feel better, but started by hugging him closer and softly stroking up and down his spine.

“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered, lowering his head and hiding against Stephen’s chest.

“No apologies,” Stephen reminded him. “I don’t want or need them, and you don’t have to explain yourself.”

“I have to give a good reason,” Tony said, his voice beginning to shake. “Everything I do needs a reason.”

“Why? Says who?” Stephen asked. He was more thinking aloud, half expecting Tony to leave the question unanswered.

For a while, he did. He just sat, furiously trying to blink back tears and gather his thoughts as Stephen held him protectively.

“Sometimes I think about… things,” Tony began vaguely. “And people. And places. I guess I just like nouns.”

At this point, he didn’t even know if he was trying to deflect or just tell a joke, but his attempt at humor fell flat. He tried to force a laugh, but halfway through it turned into a painful sob. He cried harder with each breath, ignoring the ache in his chest. Tony barely listened when Stephen encouraged him to breathe, but eventually he gave into his exhaustion and listened to his lungs.

His stupid lungs, which apparently were just as stubborn as his brain.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Tony whispered. “I shouldn’t have survived Afghanistan, New York, Sokovia, Siberia, or Titan. I can’t keep cheating death, Stephen. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be lucky and survive when the damage I’ve caused, the damage I claim full responsibility for, has taken so many lives. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt or killed for me.”

Stephen pressed a soft kiss to his hair, feeling Tony’s guit and fatigue as if it was his own.

“I don’t want to do this,” Tony repeated. “I’m probably just spiraling or being needlessly selfish, but I… I don’t know.”

“You’re taking on too much responsibility where you don’t need to,” Stephen said. “I know that’s easy for me to just say from the outside, but you aren’t the only Avenger. It’s about time the team, if you can even call them that, takes accountability for their actions and stops bulldozing you with their problems. You aren’t selfish, Tones. You’re tired and overworked, and you deserve a break. You deserve to breathe, to just exist without feeling like you have to look over your shoulder or justify your every step.”

“I don’t think I know how to even do that anymore,” Tony replied. “And I don’t deserve it.”

“You do,” Stephen argued. “And rest assured I’ll keep telling you that. And I’ll keep telling you how much I love you, because I really do.”

Tony smiled sadly, trying to press himself closer to Stephen if that was even possible. “I love you too.”

He was starting to settle down, soothed by a flurry of soft kisses in his hair and the gentle brushes up and down his spine, when FRIDAY quietly spoke up. She almost sounded remorseful.

“Mister Parker is requesting one or both of you in the lab, whenever it’s convenient,” she began. “And he’s asked me to assure you that it’s nothing major.”

Tony sighed, sitting up again. “I’ll investigate.”

Stephen shook his head. “No, let me. I’ll tell Peter that you’re resting, and he’ll understand.”

“I don’t want him to think I don’t care,” Tony whispered.

“He would never think that. You know how he gets about making sure you take care of yourself, and Peter knows with certainty that you care about him. Our son is much more mature than the Avengers,” Stephen replied.

“I still feel bad,” Tony said.

“I know. I can promise him Thai food if that’ll make you feel better?” Stephen suggested, half jokingly.

“It actually would,” Tony admitted. “FRIDAY, will you schedule a Thai food delivery for 6:30pm please?”

“Scheduled,” she replied simpy. She still sounded apologetic for disturbing them right as Tony was falling asleep, but maybe Stephen imagined that.

The sorcerer stood up gracefully, covering Tony with another blanket as the cloak wrapped a bit tighter around him. “Look after yourself and relax, or get some sleep. No one’s expecting anything from you right now Tones, alright? I love you.”

Tony nodded, a little smile on his face as Stephen kissed him again. “Love you.”

He really wanted to sleep. He actually put effort into falling asleep, which was something he never thought he’d do, and of course sleep didn’t come easily. Sleep never came easily, but the memories did. It was all too easy for Tony to get caught in a thought stream, whether he was planning a surprise, inventing, or remembering unpleasantries. Today he was overwhelmed by guilt, readily convincing himself that he was a selfish failure like Howard Stark and his teammates liked to say. It was too easy to get lost in their ire and wanting to please everyone, and Tony had given up so much of his agency just to try and make other people happy.

It was exhausting, and he didn’t even feel like he’d succeeded at that.

The mechanic started tearing up again as he continued to think in a circular pattern, faintly aware of the Cloak trying to comfort him. It was a sweet, welcome gesture, and Tony let it happen and let himself cry. He was still laying there in tears when Stephen came back in half an hour later.

“Pete says he hopes you feel better,” Stephen said, returning to his spot and pulling Tony close. “And I told him to just go ahead and eat whenever he’s hungry, or when the food gets here.”

Tony just nodded, feeling relieved and supported in Stephen’s arms again. He nodded again, as if trying to shake the unending self-deprecating thoughts from his head, before saying anything. “Sounds good.”

tags: @salty-ironstrange-shipper @stark-strange-love2 @chocopiggy @katninjagirl97 @kitkatfat15 @taruyison @funkylittlebidiot

#tony stark #stephen strange #ironstrange #not endgame compliant #non infinity war compliant #peter parker #ironstrange and spiderson #not avengers friendly lowkey #not clint barton friendly #james rhodey rhodes #tw mention of character death #tw death mention #tw sui mention

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cuddlepilefics · 3 years

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He can help

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Seungmin

Caregiver: Chan

No one’s POV.:

It had been a long day for all of Stray Kids. They had had three interviews and finished the day with a grueling dance practice. All of them were happy when they finally returned to the dorm for the evening. While the members took turns showering, Chan and Minho cooked dinner for the group. The first who finished freshening up, were Jeongin and Felix, the two laid the table, so they’d all be able to eat as soon as everyone had their shower. Not really having had the time to eat a proper lunch, the members felt like they’ve been starving. Especially Seungmin had complained the entire way back that his stomach was slowly digesting itself if he didn’t feed it anytime soon. Although now, that the food was on the food was on the table, his demeanor had changed completely. He didn’t dig in immediately like one would expect him to. Instead, he seemed hesitant, being the last one to pick up his chopsticks.

Seungmin himself was confused. He remembered being unbearably hungry towards the end of their dance practice but now that the room was filled with the savory scent of their dinner and there was a plate in front of him, the food suddenly didn’t seem as appetizing. His hunger seemed to have completely vanished and he couldn’t figure out why. Maybe he was just past the point of being hungry and the uncomfortable churning in his guts were hunger pains, so Seungmin picked up his chopsticks and started to eat. Chewing on some grilled meat, he felt like eating was the wrong thing to be doing right now but he couldn’t tell why. Minho certainly hadn’t gone easy on them today and the second youngest still felt shaky, like he had completely out done himself over the last few hours. He forced himself to eat at least half of his meal before pushing the plate away and resting his aching head on his folded arms. “Seungmin, you’ve been complaining about starving the entire time and now you’re now eating. Are you kidding me?”, Minho frowned. Seungmin lifted his head and gave the dancer an angry glare, frowning: “Yah, hyung. You’ve wrecked us with practice today and now you blame me for being exhausted?” – “Aww, is our little puppy tired?”, the second oldest mocked and Seungmin had to refrain from throwing his chopsticks at him. Chan only chuckled at the pair’s bickering but was silently wondering why the younger didn’t eat more of his dinner.

The truth was, the few bites Seungmin had pushed down, didn’t seem to sit right with him. Yeah, he had felt sore and exhausted earlier, which was to be expected after dancing so much. His head had been hurting a bit too, that could also be explained by the length of their schedule but now that his stomach was feeling a bit off too, the vocalist started to get confused. Maybe he was just stressed and running himself down, maybe he was coming down with something. Either way, a good sleep was the key to fixing many problems and he was tired anyways, so it wouldn’t be difficult to head to bed early tonight. Helping his members clear the table, Seungmin stayed in the kitchen a bit longer to make himself a cup of peppermint tea, which he took back to his room. “Good night, guys”, he said, waving at the others watching TV in the living room. Hyunjin got up with a frown, approaching the younger: “You’re already going to bed? It’s still early, don’t you want to join us?” – “Hyung, you were almost as bad as Minho-hyung today. Not everybody has as much stamina as you”, Seungmin stated, rolling his eyes, “any other day, I’d love to join but I’m really tired, so I’ll be turning in early today.” – “Alright, alright”, Hyunjin chuckled, hugging his dongsaeng, “sleep well, Minho and I will be quiet when we go to bed later.” Seungmin’s smile turned into a yawn, earning a smile from his hyung. With another small wave, he turned around and made his way to his room.

Originally, Seungmin had planned to just read another chapter of his book till he had finished his tea but feeling his head to heavy and eyes to sore to do so, he just put on his headphones and listened to Day6 on low volume, while sipping his tea. His back resting against the head board and his legs drawn close to his chest, he became more aware of the discomfort in his stomach, so he left a few sips of his tea and put the cup on the nightstand before turning of the light and wiggling down into a flat position, curled up on his side. As expected, it didn’t take long for sleep to pull him under. To his disappointment though, Seungmin woke up again, almost as quickly as he had fallen asleep. A short glance over at his roommates’ beds proved that he had in fact been asleep for quite some time, seeing them knocked out. He didn’t have to search for long to find the reason for waking up at this ungodly hour. The slight discomfort in his abdomen had turned into something much worse and now his stomach was churning angrily. Cold sweat coated Seungmin’s forehead and he could keep from shaking, feeling painfully cold. The vocalist nearly broke into tears. It had been a while since he had last felt this bad and back then, he was at home with his parents. His mom had made him tea and gave him a hot water bottle, while Seungmin was curled up on the couch, watching movies with his older sister. Now though, now he wasn’t at home anymore. Despite living with more people than ever before, Seungmin felt alone and he hated to be alone when he was this sick.

Seungmin thought about waking up at least one of his hyungs but he wasn’t sure. He was pretty sure, they were similarly as tired as him, so he would feel bad about depriving them of their precious sleep. After a few minutes of sitting on his bed, he had to realize that he’d feel just as bad if not worse, if he had to suffer by himself. Seungmin had already made up his mind about whom he’d go to. It was obvious really. ‘He can help. Channie-hyung always knows how to help’, the second youngest thought, placing his bare feet onto the cold floor. He shivered and when he left his room, he had to hold onto the door frame for a few seconds, almost getting knocked over by a sudden dizzy spell. Shuffling down the hallway to his hyung’s room, Seungmin steadied himself against the wall, cursing his shaky legs for not getting him where he wanted to be. A cramp tore at his stomach, causing the vocalist to sink into a crouch with one hand pressed firmly into his middle as he tried not to cry out and wake everyone. The next few minutes, he spent, leaning against the wall in the hallway, as he tried to breathe through the pain. It was cold and he truly regretted not taking his blanket with him.

At some point, the pain lessened a bit and Seungmin pulled himself together, struggling to his feet, so he could continue his journey. Quietly, he slipped into the room and stared at the leader’s sleeping figure, feeling guilty that he had to wake him when he was sleeping for once, a rare occurrence. He reached out and gently shook Chan’s shoulder. When he got no reaction, he decided to shake him a bit harder, earning a small grunt before the older turned over and continued sleeping. Growing desperate, Seungmin gave the leader’s shoulder a rough shove, which caused him to sit up startled. Chan looked around confused and still half-asleep and found Seungmin standing next to his bed like a lost puppy. “What’s going on?”, he whispered. The younger drew in a shaky breath and mumbled brokenly: “H-Hyung.” Sensing something wasn’t right, Chan clambered out of bed. He noticed the other shivering, so he through his blanket over his shoulder before putting a hand on Seungmin’s back to guide him to the living room, where they could talk without waking Chan’s roommates up.

Seungmin dropped down on the couch and immediately pulled his legs closer to his chest. Wrapping his blanket around the younger’s shoulders, the leader crouched down to eye-level and frowned: “Now Minnie, tell me what’s wrong.” – “Hyung, I-I feel really sick and I didn’t know what to do and I’m sorry for waking you up because you barely sleep but I just felt so bad and I didn’t want to be alone and…”, Seungmin rambled, getting cut of when Chan calmly sat down beside him and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s okay, I’m glad you woke me up when you’re now feeling well. Can you tell me what doesn’t feel right, so I can figure out how to help you?”, Chan smiled sympathetically. The younger pulled the blanket tighter around himself, desperate for warmth, and sniffled: “I-I’m really cold, my head hurts and my stomach is really upset.” – “I see. How long have you felt like that? I figured that’s why you ate so little during dinner and went to bed early?” – “Yeah”, Seungmin nodded, “I started feeling a bit off during dinner but it wasn’t really bad but then I woke up not too long ago and suddenly it was a lot worse.” – “Alright, let me get some stuff. Do you feel like you need to be sick?”, Chan asked getting up. Seungmin just shrugged and watched the leader disappear.

He was drifting in and out of consciousness, when Chan returned, setting down a bucket next to the couch. The leader gently brushed the younger’s sweaty hair off of his forehead and tilted his head a bit so he could take his temperature, frowning as it was confirmed what he had already expected. Seungmin was running a pretty high fever, so this was unlikely to be a result of stress or his food not agreeing with him, this was most likely some bug that the vocalist had managed to pick up. “Minnie, how do I help you best? Do you feel like you can stomach some tea or would you rather not drink anything right now?”, Chan asked, carding his fingers through his dongsaeng’s hair. He wasn’t sure if the thick blanket was really doing Seungmin any good with how high his fever was but the leader didn’t have the heart to take it away, considering how violently his dongsaeng was shivering. Seungmin blinked his glossy eyes open and rasped: “I don’t think it would stay in if I drink something right now. Could you maybe make me a hot water bottle?” – “I’m sorry, puppy, that would raise your fever even higher. I could rub your tummy instead?”, Chan frowned apologetically. Seungmin shook his head, not really wanting his sensitive stomach to be touched. Chan helplessly bit his lip, when he suddenly had an idea. He told the younger to hang in there, while he got up.

“Here, I remembered I still have those ginger gummies. Usually, they are meant for motion sickness but ginger is good for nausea in general, if you’d like to try that”, Chan explained. Seungmin nodded and took the gummy the leader handed him. Had he nod felt absolutely awful, he had chuckled at the smile face that almost made it look like candy. He kept it on his tongue, sucking on it and tasting the mild spicy flavor. Pulling a chair close, Chan took a seat next to the couch and played with his dongsaeng’s hair. He smiled as he watched the younger relax, humming: “Just try to get some rest, maybe you can sleep most of this off till tomorrow.” Seungmin nodded sleepily and snuggled deeper into the blanket. Maybe Chan was right, maybe he could actually get some sleep. The hand in his hair was certainly helping to make him drowsy.

Seungmin was slowly drifting off, when his body started to flush with heat, making sweat break out on his forehead and back. His mouth started to water and his stomach was swirling. With a weak whimper, he lifted a hand to his mouth, muffling a breathy burp as he struggled to sit up. Chan seemed to grasp the situation quickly, helped the younger sit up and placed the bucket into his lap. Being moved to an upright position, made Seungmin’s head spin and be just crossed his arms over the bucket and rested his head on them. Why was his stomach hating him so much? Chan noticed him swaying and steadied him with one hand on his back and one hand holding the bucket. Feeling his stomach contract, Seungmin mentally prepared himself but all that came up was some air that brought the taste of his dinner. Cringing at the taste, the boy hiccupped before burping wetly. This time, he could actually feel the liquid splash against the back of his throat and moved a trembling hand to get a better grip on the bucket. He gave a small cough, that triggered a gag. Chan whispered gentle reassurances before giving his back a few rough pats, which brought his dinner up his throat. The splashing sound of his stomach contents hitting the plastic container sent shivers down Seungmin’s spine. Retching again, his stomach was eager to get everything up. He was left panting between the waves, having to rely on his hyung to keep him up, as his head was spinning faster and faster. “It’s okay. I got you”, the older whispered, “Deep breaths, it’ll be over soon.”

Seungmin so badly wanted to believe him, so badly wanted all of this to be over. He spat into the bucket, burying his head deeper before choking up a thin stream of bile. It really seemed like he was empty, yet his stomach wouldn’t stop throwing a fit, leaving him dry heaving for what must have been ten minutes. His throat felt abused by the acid and the strain put on it from trying to force something up when there was nothing. Seungmin’s stomach slowly calmed down, so Chan deemed it safe to place the bucket back onto the ground and helped the younger to lay down again, whispering: “Stay awake just a bit longer, yeah? I’ll get you some cool water for your throat and to wash away the taste.” He really didn’t take long, soon propping Seungmin up again and lifting a glass to his swollen lips. The vocalist greedily chugged it, sighing at the relief it brought his throat. It made Chan frown and he pulled the glass away from time to time, afraid his dongsaeng would make himself sick again. Placing down the empty glass, he helped Seungmin peel off his sweaty shirt and got the younger situated again with the blanket only covering his legs and waist, so he could cool down a bit. The leader then went to clean out the bucket, which they’d certainly be needing again later. He also fetched a damp washcloth before making his way back to the living room. Seungmin was barely awake by the time Chan came back. He didn’t feel hot anymore and was instead shivering with the blanket pulled up to his chin. The leader couldn’t help but sigh at the pitiful sight. He used the washcloth to clean the tear-tracks and caked sweat from the younger’s face, wiping his chin and folding the cloth to lay it across the fever-hot forehead. Pulling the chair closer, the oldest hyung prepared himself for a long night as he listened to his dongsaeng’s labored breathing and continued to play with his sweaty messed up hair.

#stray kids #skz #sick #sickfic #fanfic #fanfiction #emeto #whump #fluff #comfort #kim seungmin #bang chan

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