fic: untitled drabble #3 (nyucob hurt/comfort) [drabble september]

[moriendum]

fandom: tbz
pairing: jacob/chanhee
rating: T
wordcount: 700 words
tags: au, hurt/comfort, light angst
a/n: crossposted from twitter in 2023.

For the first time in days, Jacob’s eyes open and stay that way.

The skin of his stomach still feels wrong, as if pulled taut over sore muscles, but it doesn’t compare to the last few times he regained consciousness and felt pain strong enough to numb him back into the darkness of his own head.

He’s warm. That’s the first thing he notices after the absence of pain. Not just warm, but comfortable, too. Safe.

Someone stirs next to him. Chanhee is in the process of waking up too, probably awakened by Jacob moving, snuggling close against Jacob and clinging to his arm as if afraid he might slip through his fingers.

Jacob smiles at the sight, even as uneasiness tugs at his heartstrings, understanding right away how worried Chanhee must’ve been to refuse to leave his side on the much too narrow bed.

“Hey,” Jacob calls, softly. It’s enough. Chanhee’s eyes shoot open at the sound of his voice, and he half sits up.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

He turns his head, about to call for someone, but Jacob touches his wrist and he stops.

“How are you?” Jacob asks.

Chanhee is ready to argue, and Jacob almost hears the what do you mean how I am? You’re the one who almost died! before his eyes soften. 

“I’m better now,” he says. He lies back on the bed, on his side, one hand coming up to touch Jacob’s face, so careful it’s lighter than the caress of the wind. “I missed your eyes.”

He looks tired. He is tired, Jacob knows, all too used to the bags under his eyes, the ashen tint to his cheeks whenever Chanhee worries himself sick over something. It fills Jacob with guilt, so overwhelming it takes over his own exhaustion momentarily, clears his cloudy thoughts. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Chanhee shakes his head, fingers still trailing patterns on his face. “Not now. Just rest.”

That conversation will happen, Jacob knows. About how reckless he was, how dangerous they both knew getting into the thick of battle would be, especially for someone who was never a fighter to begin with like Jacob. But Chanhee lets it go, and Jacob doesn’t want to contradict him again — not after the last time brought them here. 

“You know what this means?” Jacob asks. His tone is lighthearted, cheeky, which confuses Chanhee, because he shakes his head, not understanding. “I must’ve trained Sunwoo well, if I’m still alive to tell the story.”

It’s probably too soon to be joking about it, but Chanhee still chuckles and uses his knee to nudge Jacob’s thigh in retaliation. “You did train him well, but you’re our healer here. And will be for a long time still. Don’t think of giving up that title so soon.”

Jacob takes the hand Chanhee has on his face and brings it to his lips, kissing his knuckles. Guilt fills him again, with a tinge of regret this time, for never acting on what has always been just waiting to happen, simmering beneath the surface, ever since the first time he felt the warmth of Chanhee’s hand on his. For only having his fingers to kiss now. For being a coward when it comes to what matters the most.

“I won’t,” Jacob says. He kisses Chanhee’s knuckles again. “Sunwoo probably isn’t ready, anyway.” 

It doesn’t feel like they’re talking about Sunwoo anymore when Chanhee blinks a couple of times, fighting back tears but refusing to acknowledge them. 

“No, I don’t think he is.”

They stare at each other for a moment before Chanhee sits up again.

“I’ll go fetch him to take a look at you,” he says. “And find you something to eat too, you must be starving—“

Jacob holds onto his wrist again, and Chanhee stays, again, like Jacob could always ask him to stay and he would always say yes. 

But this time it’s only long enough so Jacob can ask, “Will you come back? Please?”

Very unlike him to beg, for company no less, but the exhaustion must be getting to him. Just the thought of being apart from Chanhee now, losing that warmth and that voice, is enough to make him restless. 

Chanhee smiles before leaning down to kiss Jacob’s forehead. Sweetly, lovingly, just like the rest of him.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you,” Chanhee says. “I thought that was obvious. Stay put, I’ll be right back.” 

Jacob nods, warm even after he is gone, by Chanhee’s words and the certainty that he will be back. 

Now, and until the end of time.