Word Count: 1,033
He was miserable.
Noah was well aware that it was his own goddamn fault that he was miserable but the knowledge did nothing to alleviate the ache in his ribs, the way breathing hurt, and how his body was battered and bruised from things that weren’t the type of fun time he preferred.
Paul was being a helicopter husband, which was obnoxious and endearing at the same time even if it kept the younger Jones on edge more than it should have.
He was still waiting for the inevitable I told you so to come from the burly man and it had him more on edge than being injured normally did.
Getting home had been a feat in itself, with Paul’s concern making him glance over as Noah struggled with consciousness and then there was that damned chatty cat. The redhead knew he should have been nicer, considering the rat saved his life, but his head was pounding and Noah Jones was a terror when he was sick or injured.
But they managed to make it back alright and he was carried up to their bedroom without a fuss. Noah’s eyes were half-lidded, gaze unfocused as he leaned into the strong man taking care of him.
“Bed’s gonna get dirty,” he slurred, struggling to lift his head to look at Paul.
“Easier to clean the bed than the couch,” came Paul’s gruff response and Noah could only grunt in response, head tipping back against the headboard as his partner worked to undress him with more care than someone of Paul’s build seemed capable of.
Being naked around the other man had never been a problem, but something about being bare right then only served to irritate the already moody ginger further. “She didn’t…” Noah’s word came out slowly, to his growing frustration, because everything was still almost static that kept him from being able to articulate in the ways he was used to or wanted to. “She didn’t break any skin.”
No, Crazy Tits had just beaten the s**t out of him and stolen his energy like some freak energy vamp.
“She might’ve--”
“I’m not going to a ******** hospital okay?” Noah snapped, sitting up with a hiss, hand reaching to cradle his injured ribs immediately after.
Paul went silent and carefully picked himself off the floor from where he was kneeling. “I’m going to draw a bath.”
Teeth grated against each other while stormy eyes followed him as he left the ********>.” Noah hissed, head falling back with a sigh.
.
The bath is relieving, if only because Noah needed to get stink and grime of trash off of his skin.
Paul was exceptionally quiet and Noah wanted him to say something instead of just sitting in silence as he helped him get cleaned up with gentle slides of a loofa against pale skin.
“Just spit it out already,” Noah hissed, jerking away and jostling himself enough that pain shot through him and he curled into himself as a result.
“I thought I was gonna lose you, kiddo.”
The admission sobered Noah up real quick and he twisted, ignoring the pangs of pain that his body shoulded in protest so that he could reach for his husband’s face to pull him down for a kiss. “Paulie,” he started quietly, pressing his forehead against Paul’s. “You’re not gonna lose me. I...I didn’t mean to scare you like that baby.”
They shared another kiss before Noah had Paul help him out of the bath, then helped him dry off before they worked their way back into the bedroom.
.
Painkillers were downed, swallowed with a swig of water before he was settled back into bed, extra pillows pulled out of the closet to help cushion him so that if he shifted, he wouldn’t jostle himself too much. It had been a given that Paul was expected to crawl into bed with him, the younger man ignoring the various pillows for his favorite one.
His husband.
Paul’s agreeable, of course he was. Noah couldn’t remember the last time that Paul had denied him something when he was hurting and it was easy to press against that broad chest and let the medication do it’s thing and knock him out.
Despite the pain, falling asleep to the brush of lips against his temple and fingers running through his hair wasn’t the worst way to fall asleep.
.
Waking up was worse.
His entire body ached and when he threw off the blankets, as it was always too hot between a comforter and the body heat of his space heater of a spouse, he regretted the large sweeping motion of his arm. The gasping woke Paul, who immediately sat up, sleepiness gone the moment concern for Noah took over.
“I’m fine,” he hissed, reaching to press fingers along Paul’s forearm when it slid across his stomach. “Just a little battered.”
Looking down showed that his body was marred with several ugly, yellow, purple, blue marks especially along the skin above his ribs. Fingertips pressing against the spots earned a hiss as dull pain pulsed through him but he tried to get up anyway.
“Where are you going?” Paul asked, arm keeping Noah from successfully exiting the bed.
Annoyance flickered across his face when he pushed the hand away. “I gotta take a piss, that a ******** problem?”
Paul was quiet, looking like a scolded puppy.
With a sigh, Noah shifted slowly to avoid aggravating his injuries until he could lean in and draw Paul in for a kiss. “Everything ******** hurts, s’not your fault I’m cranky, okay?” He rubbed their noses against each other before he kissed him one more time and tried to shuffle out of bed again.
Paul’s hand caught his and tugged him softly, the burly man scooting towards the edge of the bed. “Lemme help you.”
“I don’t--” He stopped himself, eyes squeezing shut for a moment until the flare of moodiness had died down. “Alright Paulie, you can help me.”
His husband had stood up by then, arm sliding across his backside and fingers securing themselves against the curve of his hip.
“You wanna play nurse, I’ll let you play nurse.”
ghouliboo
