A hokk day

Upon waking, Brutus realized it was going to be a hokk day.

Even with hir eyes closed and body still, hir joints had the audacity to ache. Xe let out a groan and rolled over to press hir face into hir pillow, wincing as hir muscles protested with twinges of pain at the movement. The blanket was pulled up just above hir nose, and the stuffy air puffing into hir face made hir simultaneously pissed and tired. But moving sucked. Moving sounded even more aggravating actually. Xe stayed under the covers.

As the sun started to rise, rays of light fell from the window and heated the blankets on hir back. The vibrations of people moving, starting to go about their days, echoed beyond the stone walls of hir quarters.

Xe wriggled a little bit more, trying to find a moderately comfortable position. Comfortable, often eluded hir, but xe would settle for moderately comfortable, or even somewhat comfortable. Alas, no matter how xe laid, some muscle or nerve remained adamantly pinched. 

Lay on back? (Elbows and knees locked up in protest.) Side? (Neck decided that giving hir a headache would be nice, and hir upper arms and shoulders tensed painfully in agreement.) Stomach? (Nothing liked that.)

Xe was still in that state between half-awake and half-asleep. However, the pleasant sleep-fogginess clouding hir brain faded as xe continued to shift and twist under the covers. Sticky sweat had dampened hir armpits and inner thighs. By contrast, a draft in the blanket let in impossibly frigid air against hir side and left leg. But curling hir leg in make hir knee hurt so xe couldn’t do that. And adjusting the covers would pull at hir already throbbing arm muscles. And xe might dislodge the okay-ish position xe’d managed to slot hir neck in. And, actually, there was no point in lying to hirself that xe might still get back to sleep.

Xe sighed. 

Time to get up then.

Now. 

Getting up, now.

Xe stayed wormed under the covers. 

Exhaustion pooled deep within hir. Almost instinctually, xe tried to push it down, tried put something else in front of it to distract. 

Today didn’t have to be an exhausted day, xe could go to the herb garden and listen to the chime, wouldn’t that be nice? (But that required walking, and it was cold out and the cold made everything hurt worse.) Today didn’t have to be depressing and nonproductive, xe could practice hir guitar a little bit. (But that required fingers that didn’t ache when they curled and gripped, wrists that didn’t throb when they bent.)

Anothir sigh, slow and heavy, pulled at hir lungs.

After 25 minutes of fake-hyping hirself up, xe dragged hirself out of hir mildly sweaty blanket cocoon. 

The air immediately goose-bumped hir skin, and xe stumbled about hir room, feeling for the chair xe always left hir robe on. Xe’d be heshaand to use hir echolocation right then, it would only drain hir even further. Besides, xe had a suspicion xe wouldn’t be leaving hir quarters anyways.

Begrudgingly, xe stretched out hir stiff muscles, counting under hir breath as xe held each position for twenty-or-so seconds. (If xe didn’t force hemself to do it first, xe probably wouldn’t do it all.)

Xe made tea. The mug bled some warmth back into hir hands.

Xe remembered xe should probably eat something; the lowest effort thing was toast. Xe ate half a piece before deciding hir jaw wasn’t crazy about chewing today.

Xe made a mental list of what xe wanted get done that day. Then what was actually going to get done logistically. Xe scrapped more than half of it and tried to ignore how it made hir want to lay down on the floor and not get back up.

Xe got done what xe absolutely needed to, then crawled back into bed. 

Not to sleep, xe wouldn’t delude hirself into believing there was a chance of that happening again, but just to exist. When xe wasn’t doing things, the aching of hir body became all the more apparent. (Each twitch of pain became a spark. To entertain hirself, xe counted the cadence of hir throbbing head.) But doing things required moving and moving also made everything worse. There was no winning really.

At some point xe had migrated from lying in bed to sitting at the table. Albeit, still swaddled in a blanket cloak. (Being upright made hir feel just a little bit less like xe was wasting the day.)

Maybe an hour later (or a couple, xe really couldn’t be bothered) there was a much too energetic knock upon hir door. No, not hir door. Hir brows furrowed. The window. Doors didn’t rattle when hit like that.

Before xe could muster up the energy to speak, the window opened with a click and a slide.

Xe hissed at the wave of salty, chilled air that came with it, and clutched hir blanket closer. “Heshaan zeit, close that,” xe snapped, “it’s cold.” Xe could afford to be rude, and rather planned on it actually. Only one person would be visiting from hir window.

Amek chuckled, the window sliding closed. “Already cursing me out, I think that’s a record, Grumpus.” xe could hear the smile in his voice. A chair scratched against the tiles as he sat down across from hir, placed his arms on the table. “What has got your horns all twisted up this time, hmmm?”

His presence pierced at the exhaustion weighing over hir just slightly, a flicker of light amidst the gray. His stupid cheerful voice and undoubtably stupid smile. It wasn’t enough to fake how zeit xe felt though.

“Amek I’m not…” Xe rested hir chin in hir palm. Then decided to not do that when hir elbow stinged at being pressed against the oh-so-hard table. “I’m not up for this today,” xe admitted, the softness of hir voice surprising even hir. “Did you come here for… do you need something from me?” 

Brutus prayed not. If xe had to do anymore things today, xe might combust. Or cry. And xe’d done that enough times today already.

Amek paused. Their leg, which had been bouncing, stopped. Brutus tried not to wilt under their silence.

“No… No, I don’t need anything of you.” All the giddiness in their voice had dissolved, quieted. Their leg started again, but slower. “Are you all right, Brutus?”

Brutus hummed. “Just a bad, uh.” Bad what, joint day? Bad body day? Zeit hurts day? “My… my condition, you remember how it doesn’t just affect my eyes? That’s this. Today’s just a particularly zeit day of it, happens sometimes.”

“Oh.” Amek said. “I see.”

The fabric of their sleeves rasped against the table. Brutus guessed they were wringing their hands together. Or twiddling their thumbs, they always did that when they were thinking.

Brutus didn’t know what to say, so xe reached forward until xe bumped into hir empty mug of tea and got up, depositing it in the sink. Xe had to drop hir blanket in the process, and now hir shoulders were cold. The urge to curl back into hir bed once again hit hir with a force. 

“I’m probably just going to lay around and listen to music or something for the rest of the evening so…” Xe massaged a tight muscle in hir neck.

Their chair pulled back. They stood. “Would you want me to go then? If you would rather be alone, that’s understandable. I don’t wish to bother you.”

Deities above, the marshmallow was getting actually proper with hir, that meant they were legitimately concerned. If xe had the energy, xe would’ve laughed. 

Before hir brain could catch up with hir xe said, “You don’t bother me.”

It came out much more tender than Brutus intended it to.

There was a beat of silence. The tips of Brutus’s ears heated.

“I don’t?” Amek sounded bewildered, almost offended. A short laugh escaped them. “I’m not sure if I believe that one, my dear Brutus.”

Brutus knew how xe was supposed to respond, and felt the gut-response of snarky banter on the tip of hir tongue. Oh yeah, you’re right, you’re annoying as all hells below and above. Or simply: Shut up you zeitspitting hokking marshmallow.

However, xe didn’t have any of that fire in hir today. Xe didn’t even want to have it, which scared hir a little.

Xe knew what xe wanted. And xe was just sleep deprived and hurting enough to actually ask.

Hir fingers trailed the edge of the counter as xe made hir way back to the table, stood in front of where xe assumed Amek was still. One of hir hands reached out, and after a moment, Amek’s hand laid hesitantly atop hir own. his hand was warm. Silky, against hir calloused palm.

With twitching fingers, xe laced their fingers together. Something in hir eased at the contact. “I wouldn’t mind your company.”

He squeezed hir hand. 

“I’ll stay then.” 

Amek’s voice sounded steady, resolute. Yet there was a flutter in the air around him that betrayed him.

“Do you, uhm… would you like a hug?”

With a huff, xe leaned forward and rested hir forehead on their shoulder. They smelled like rain, charcoal. Xe breathed in the scent, the muscles at hir ribs protesting as they stretched.

“I’m fine Amek, just tired.” Xe nuzzled into their neck. “You don’t gotta worry.”

Two arms snaked around hir sides. They pressed a comforting weight against the small of hir back, holding hir. With an exhale, xe gingerly wrapped hemself around Amek as well. (Hir arms and hands still ached, too much so to hug as strong as xe wished). The fabric of their vest felt velvety against hir palms. A hand trailed up hir back and rose to cup hir head, card gently through hir hair. Xe melted into the touch.

“Too late for that, I’m afraid,” they murmured. Their breath puffed into hir hair.

Brutus just hummed. Hir brain had already whited out, and Amek lightly scratching at hir scalp wasn’t helping. Shivers of pleasure ran down hir spine when they tousled the hairs at the back of hir neck. Brutus let hemself sway as Amek rocked them back and forth.

For the first time that day Brutus felt warm, soft. Content. Even though xe still hurted.

But the hurting would stop eventually, it always did. (Though sometimes it felt like it wouldn’t). It would come back, of course, but so would Amek.

Brutus was used to always being big, being strong. With Amek xe could be small. Be small and vulnerable and be held. No matter how they teased each other, when xe asked something of Amek, xe knew xe needn’t ever fear ridicule or denial.

Xe asked him to stay.

And Amek stayed.