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nepenthe (noun)
__________
derived from latin (nē - not / penthos - (personification of) grief)
---> 1. something that allows one to forget their grief or suffering (or to release personal burdens)
2. a cure utillized to induce a loss of sorrowful or painful memories
___
So, there were a few problems Damon was currently facing (but truly, what else was new?)
The first being that he was definitely coming down with something. He couldn't lie to himself and say it was allergies when that morning was the third in a row he had woken up to a sore throat and crust all over his face– gross. It was a miracle he didn't run into his roommate on his way to their shared bathroom, no way was he going to be seen looking disheveled.
Tired and grumpy? That was fine. Sick and crusty? Drawing a line. Several lines were jumped on the way to that line.
Which brought him to his second problem. His head was so stuffy it was hard for him to think, let alone move his body around. It was awful feeling so weak and disoriented. His head didn't hurt, per se, it was as if someone had shoved several cotton balls into the crevice between his eyes. For a college student of his caliber, it just wasn't ideal.
Well. It wasn't ideal for anyone, but even less so for him. He had several assignments to be done before the end of the week, and with 3 days spent with his condition worsening, the work he was already churning out was far from his best. It wasn't his proudest, but he got it done before his personal deadline and that was what mattered to him.
Regardless, he didn't have a fever, so he didn't feel the need to stay in bed. When he was a child he never missed a day of school unless he had a fever and truly could not function, but he lacked the luxuries afforded when his mother was there to fuss over his condition.
The thought makes him feel a twinge of homesickness– he longs for the comfort being home brought him. The feeling of being cared for, being looked after and loved. He hadn't truly felt that way since he moved out, despite the constant phone calls with his parents asking about how he was doing in college, how work had been, or if he needed anything from them.
It was sweet. It didn't make him feel babied, as it maybe should have. No, it just made him feel warm and fuzzy inside— the pleasant kind of fuzzy feeling that allows for sleep to take hold and comfortably drift off. Not like how he was currently feeling. This fuzzy feeling was stuffy and disorienting.
Damon grips the counter as he attempts to focus on his face in the mirror. The reflection looking back at him makes him cringe, with a red irritated nose and flushed cheeks. It was clear as day to anyone who saw his face that he was definitely under the weather– not exactly something he wanted broadcasted.
Splashing his face with cool water to rid it of the crust, he contemplates cutting his losses and retreating to his room. But, there were things to be done before he was able to do so, papers that needed to be drafted and submitted. The feeling of dread was creeping in, the feeling he might overwhelm himself with the weight of the work he needed to complete in time.
He also wasn't about to miss his classes, not when his parents were so graciously paying part of his tuition. If he could go, he would be going. There were no questions about it.
He avoids the reflection of his pitiful self in the mirror and retreats to his room, grabbing an oversized hoodie and some pants suitable to wear outside. It wasn't a fashion show, and he didn't want to be noticed in public currently regardless.
He decides maybe a pot of coffee will help him feel better. Yeah— the strong smell of the coffee would help clear his head. Practically dragging himself to the kitchen, he starts the pot. He has to support himself by leaning on the counter after a few moments however, due to his poor condition.
And as if his luck couldn't get any worse, he hears the sound of a door opening. Damon just holds his head in his free hand.
Kai Monteago walks out of his room, looking like a sight for sore eyes per usual. He looks way better than Damon feels, despite not having had his frappe from Stella Dolla yet. As Damon's third problem, he of course notices the state of his roommate rather quickly, quirking an eyebrow at the sight.
“Uh- Dude. You look like shit.” He says, eloquently as usual.
“Gee. Thanks.”
To his credit, he seems to recognize his misstep near instantly, and scrambles to restart his sentence. “Wait I didn't mean it like that— Like, as in you look like you're going to get blown away if you walk out of the building like that.”
Damon would usually pinch his nose, breathe in and out, but he quite literally cannot breathe through his nose as of currently. So that idea was scrapped. Instead, he just weakly glares at Kai.
“I'm fine.” The words lack their usual conviction. Damon can't find the effort in him to muster up the energy for it.
Despite it all, it was only Kai. He didn't hate his roommate, not by a long shot– only knew he could be a lot to deal with at the more inconvenient times. He would've found a different roommate if his was truly so bad– but they had gotten over their initial differences. They were on relatively solid terms, friendly ones, even.
Which was what made him a problem. He could see the concern in Kai’s gaze, the genuine question of whether he was alright or not went unspoken, yet not unheard. Kai cared a lot, and Damon knew he was weak to his influencer roommates whims.
He figures he must've spaced out, because when he focuses again, the coffee pot has finished brewing and Kai is much closer than he previously was. He can see Kai beginning to open his mouth, likely to voice his concerns, but Damon feels the need to beat him to it, voicing the first thought on his mind.
“Objects may be closer than they appear.”
They both pause because– what? What was that?
Damon attempts to explain himself. “Like, a rear view mirror. You were just in your room, but now you're here. You're closer than I initially perceived.” As if that made anything better. Joyous.
Kai gets a funny sort of look on his face, smiling with eyebrows knit together in concern. “Damon, are you like– high or something?” The genuine question in his voice almost makes Damon laugh. Was he really coming off that poorly?
“Not high, just kind of tired. I'll be fine–” He attempts to sidestep Kai, failing miserably when his face is caught by soft hands that make him pause in his tracks.
Kai's hands are soft . And they're cool, a welcome presence on his uncomfortably warm skin. He leans into the touch, thoughts thrown out the window. Thinking was difficult through the fog anyways.
He miscalculates, leaning too far and losing his balance and falling into Kai, who lets out a grunt as he graciously catches him before he hits the floor.
“Christ, Damon.” His grip is solid, more so than he would've thought given Kai doesn't have much core strength. “Of course you of all people wouldn't take the chance to take a sick day when you're actually sick.” He mutters, slightly irritated.
“Mmh.” He responds. “But ‘m not that sick, I can make it out of here.”
“Bold words from the guy who's quite literally clinging to me like a lifeboat.” Kai scoffs, readjusting his grip, but not letting go. No complaints– the coolness of Kais skin was a welcome change in comparison to his own.
Damon knows he probably should argue, knows if he was as all there as claims to be he wouldn't be holding on to Kai in any capacity, but he lacks the strength to do it. The influencer seems to realize this, and giggles when he truly takes in the sight of the great Damon Maitsu holding onto him like a damn koala bear.
Grinning despite the situation, Kai props him back up. “Okay, game plan. You're lucky I didn't have anything that important to do today, so I'm gonna run you a hot bath, yeah?” He says, tapping his chin in thought. “Oh, and I'll break out some of the natural oils Diana got me a while back, they definitely help with opening the sinuses.” He rattled off a few more things, but Damon completely loses track in lieu of staring at his face.
Kai is pretty. This is not a shocking development, of course. He is an influencer after all, so he has a certain degree of attractiveness. But
noticing it when he was this close… it brought back that warm fuzzy feeling from all those years ago. The feeling of comfort, of affection for someone. Because as pretty as Kai is physically, with tanned skin covered in a light smattering of freckles and moles, he was also incredibly caring. He was willing to take care of Damon after noticing he wasn't alright, which only made him more enticing and attractive.
Seeming to realize Damon has mentally checked out from their one sided conversation, Kai maneuvers his roommate into a chair nearby. He looks a little tired– probably because holding another person's body weight upright was straining. He feels a bit guilty for that, but does not voice it beyond tucking himself into the chair to wait as Kai leaves to… well. He isn't actually sure, but he assumes it's to draw a bath since it was one of the first things suggested in the endless list.
Damon leans back in the chair, gaze drifting to the popcorn ceiling of their shared apartment. The dark feeling of guilt further creeps into his mind, taking hold of his train of thought abruptly. Why was he sitting in a chair like a child, waiting for things to be done for him? The effect that Kai had on him, the one that chipped away at his defenses until he was vulnerable, tired of fortifying them repeatedly when he felt weak– it was terrifying. It was childish to be allowing these things to happen, to allow his baser instincts to be cared for to take the reigns.
He shouldn't be doing this. Why was he listening in the first place, falling into Kai’s arms at the first sign of compassion? Staying and sitting where he was left because he felt too weak to stand alone? It was so damn ridiculous, to allow himself to be babied like this.
It was a rare line of thought for him, one that he had taken great care to bury and prevent from popping up at the worst times. But the burdensome thoughts persisted. The longing and the guilt clashed, and he was far too exhausted to pick one to listen to.
The cottony feeling between his eyes seemed to worsen with his ever declining mood. He felt awful.
Damon had not been this sick in a while, atleast, not since he was young. He remembers the last time it happened, when his mom had spent her time not in meetings due to her remote job taking care of him, making sure he was okay. It made him feel loved. More so than he liked to admit the simple ‘I love you’ ‘s did.
But the feeling now, it was different to when he was served home cooked stews in bed with a fever— more intimate. Because the difference now was there was no obligation for Kai to do this for him besides the moral ones. His mother instinctively took care of him, as he was her child. Kai was his roomate. They were not strangers, not in the slightest, but he was under no pressure to show Damon the level of care he was currently.
It made him feel strange. Not unpleasantly strange though, more like an unfamiliarly pleasant affection– the lack of familiarity was what made it truly strange. Not the feeling itself.
As if summoned from Damon’s swirling thoughts, Kai returns from the bathroom, offering a hand to help the other up from the chair.
“Come on now you big baby, you're gonna take a nice warm bath and relax, yeah?” Kai chirps, smiling warmly as he leads Damon to the bathroom, as if the path was unfamiliar to him despite both of their names on the apartment lease. But, Damon wasn't complaining– especially not when Kai’s hand lingered in his own far longer than it needed to. Their hands didn't need to stay clasped all the way to the bathroom, but Kai didn't comment on it, and Damon didn't see any necessity to point out the point of physical connection. Plus, it was comforting, grounding even, to hold his roommate's hand, reminding him this isn't some sort of weird fantastical dream, or his deeply seated desires coming to fruition in the form of a hallucination, or something.
Sitting on the toilet seat, Damon looks at Kai, who stood lingering in the doorway of the bathroom, looking as if he was unsure if he should leave or not. He looks a bit like a confused puppy, Damon notes affectionately. But, Kai’s lingering opens the door to the opportunity he was waiting for to ask the burning question on his mind.
“Kai…” He starts, hating how soft his voice sounds. It sounds so unlike his usual self, lacking the edge he built his image on. But, the longer he dwells on it, the less his image seems to matter in his current situation. Kai already drew a warm bath for him, set him up with a towel and was sticking around because he had not been given the signal to head out.
Regardless, he draws in a breath in a futile attempt to keep his voice level.
“Why are you doing this for me?”
The question hangs in the air for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say. Kai gets a sort of contemplative look on his face, genuinely considering the question for a second.
He doesn't leave Damon waiting very long though. “It's because I care about you.” He answers, matching the softness of Damon’s voice in his response. Admittedly, the simple answer left him stunned momentarily.
“Well, sure, but why are you doing all of this?” He gestures to the steaming bath and towel set up for him. “You don't have to, you're under no real obligation to do all this for me. But you are. Why?”
“All this?” Kai echoes, tilting his head in confusion. “I didn't really do much. I just sort of figured that knowing your stubborn ass, you probably didn't even take any cold medicine thinking you could like, thug it out or something. You don't take care of yourself, Damon. I’m doing the bare minimum here for you, and you're considering it like it's a burden for me to carry to help you out as a friend.”
That makes Damon’s cheeks flush a bit more with embarrassment. Kai was right, he hadn't even taken cold medicine, thinking he could ‘thug it out’ as Kai had so eloquently put it. He hadn't even considered it, thinking the cold would run its course rather quickly and it would only be a minor inconvenience to his usual activities.
The way he had phrased it though, as if these were normal things for a friend to do… it made him feel odd. And this time, it wasn't in the pleasant way he was accustomed to around Kai.
“I've had friends before, you know. And they didn't go this far, despite us having a good connection.” He is aware he’s acting on the defensive here, but Kai’s insinuation that he was unfamiliar with the affection of a friend made him feel uncomfortable to say the least.
Kai, once again to his credit, backtracks when he notes Damon’s growing irritation, putting his hands up in defense. “Woah dude– not like that! I meant like, this is just the way I treat people I care about. It's a thing I do, helping them out in any way I can if they need it.”
Damon considers this, irritation fading as he rationalizes the response. That actually makes sense, Kai taking care of his friends and family in need. He was kind like that– he would help someone out if he cared about their wellbeing. He wasn't overly generous by any means, but he was loyal to those he cared for.
Admitting he was someone Kai cared for to that degree made his heartbeat speed up in his chest. He chalks it up to just feeling nervous due to the unfamiliarity of the treatment from someone like him.
Conceding, he meets that warm butterscotch gaze, allowing his defenses to fall completely. It was futile, trying to fight off Kai’s affections, as he could be persistent when he wanted to be.
(He chooses to ignore the fact that if he had said the word, Kai would have backed off and left him alone. Chooses to ignore that he wanted to be cared for in this way.)
“Alright. You've made your point.” He sighs, feeling a lopsided smile pull at the corners of his mouth. “You can get out now, unless you're planning to watch me undress or something.” He cant help the tease, tone lacking any true accusation.
He doesn't miss the way Kai’s ears turn pink as he retreats, spinning on his heel quickly and closing the door muttering something along the lines of how “he’s not gonna do that to a sick guy” and how he “was just trying to be nice and see if he needed anything”, clearly embarrassed.
Damon allows the smile he was fighting off (a losing battle, clearly) to take over his features as he strips, slipping into the warm bath with a groan of relief.
It had been a while since he had taken a bath, despite having been in this apartment for months now. He just hadn't had the time in all honesty. A bath had sounded nice on his most stressed out days, but he didn't want to give in to temptation, knowing he would waste hours soaking in the bath.
Now, he allows himself to just relax. His head briefly slips under the water, allowing the warmth to seep under his skin, unknotting the kinks and knots he didn't even realize were present.
He would have to let Kai do this more often, because along with the pleasant aroma emanating from the bath (the oils from Diana he had mentioned briefly, he assumes) the feeling of weightlessness was not as well-acquainted with his body as it perhaps should be.
Regardless, he found himself enjoying being pampered.
____
Damon still isn't quite sure how long he spent in the bath, relaxing and listening to the faint noises of Kai singing along to something in the kitchen on one of his many mini speakers.
Of course, he had to get out eventually. When he finally did, he instantly mourned the loss of the warmth. Especially when he nearly fell over pulling the plug to the bath, having to steady himself on the edge of the tub as his vision blacked out momentarily.
He chalks that one up to his iron-deficiency, noting he didn't remember taking his daily vitamin that morning before running into Kai.
Drying himself and wrapping the towel around his waist, he retreats to his room to grab some clothes to keep comfy– a thin hoodie he regularly used for sleeping, and some boxers. He didn't bother with pants, knowing Kai of all people who didn't usually wear shirts to sleep wouldn't pay it any mind.
Kai also wore socks to bed, to be fair. So Damon had labelled him as an anomaly in his head. Why would anyone willingly wear socks to bed? Mere thoughts of the texture of having something on his feet when he slept made shivers.
Exiting his room with a still foggy mind, he makes his way to the kitchen bar, where he could see Kai pouring something resembling soup into a bowl, still singing along to his music. He only stops when he notices Damon, stumbling back with a yelp loud enough to cause his head to throb.
He shoots Kai a glare, massaging his head as the influencer apologizes profusely for hurting his head, turning down his music and ushering Damon to the couch to sit down. He seems to materialize a blanket out of thin air as well, truly considering everything.
He can't even try to fight the bubbles of affection bursting in his chest. Kai truly was a sweetheart.
Kai gives him the soup, a nervous smile on his face. Damon takes a moment to admire his smile, the baby fat that never left his cheeks despite his wishes. It made his smile all the more sweet, and made him a marvel to look at. He had the kind of smile that Damon thought should be photographed and hung in a museum.
Though, knowing himself, he would hate to share the tranquil beauty of that smile with the world. It was something reserved for him, and whoever else was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of it.
(He selfishly prays only that he has had the luxury of receiving smiles like that from Kai, despite his lack of devotion to any deity or religion. The prayer itself was futile– he was aware, but he was allowed to have desires. They would be confined to his thoughts regardless– it wasn't as if Kai would ever hear them.)
He stops Kai as he tries to retreat to the kitchen, grabbing his wrist before he can retract it fully from where he had placed the bowl.
Their gazes lock, something akin to surprise crossing the influencer’s features at the contact. Damon knows it's out of character for him, knows it's the opposite of his brand to be so open about his desires. He refuses to care in the moment though, eyes burning with conviction as he opens his mouth.
“Stay with me. Please.” It isn't a question, it isn't a request. It's a demand, one Kai seems all too eager to bend to despite himself. He curls up next to Damon on the couch, turning on the TV as his weight settles into his roommates.
“If I get sick, I’m blaming you for it, by the way.” He murmurs softly, but the affection lacing his voice betrays his true feelings on the matter.
Damon allows his eyes to close, allows himself to drift off with his hand still firmly clasped in Kai’s. The droning of the TV and the steady heartbeat signifying a living presence next to him lulls him slowly to sleep.
Before he truly is out, he feels his bangs being moved slightly out of his face, lips meeting his forehead. It's a short kiss, but it makes Damon’s body practically explode from the softness of both the gesture and Kai’s lips.
“Goodnight, Damon.” He whispers, as if he didn't just rock his roommates' world with a simple act.
Damon wishes he could live in content like this for eternity. Just him and Kai laying on their shitty couch in their apartment in the city, sitting in their own little bubble. Their own little home.
That was it— the warm feeling recalled from earlier. It was love, sure, that much was obvious.
But, it was also a feeling of being home again.
And that was the most important part.