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Shang Qinghua woke up with the enthusiasm of a sick toddler with a pounding headache. The sun brightly gleamed through their paneled window- a sight far too bright for how groggy he was. The man clutched his husband and buried his head deep into the cold chest that welcomed him so easily. The loud agony in his head dimmed, especially with how an icy hand slowly cradled the back of his head.
Qinghua melted with an exhale. After a few moments, he managed to make a slightly pained sound of acknowledgement; truly a hum to encapsulate "good morning", "fuck I'm dying", and "heyyyy sexy, you come around here often?"
Luckily, Mobei Jun was receptive to the quiet communication. He pressed a kiss to the top of the human's head- though he was careful to not jostle the man much in the process. "Is my Qinghua alright?" he whispered.
A slight whine came out of the advisor, but he couldn't summon a good enough lie, "Yeah. I will be."
Mobei Jun was… kind. Scary- but kind. Sometimes scarily kind?
Qinghua was a wild, feral animal with how he stressed over the littlest of things, and their relationship was fine china he was terrified to fracture. But time and time again, Mobei Jun showed that the two weren't fragile, and Qinghua didn't know how to process the idea that he was handed so much intimacy and care with the expectation that they wouldn't fall apart the next moment. Every considerate action, every sweet nothing- they were all given as if they were as plentiful as the air, and Qinghua could only breathe it in while he was wonderfully amazed at how he got so far.
And while he was one to get sappy, the pain quickly rose above the many loving ideas he possessed. It felt like his mind was a see-through tank of liquid. The dense ache unwelcomingly flooded his brain and displaced anything valuable, leaving him to drown in dense agony with no drain in sight.
The demon had assisted him with his migraines before. Even if he didn't intuitively know what to do, he was willing to follow any of Qinghua's clumsy instructions to help in the right ways. Even through his current brainfog, a loving, greedy part of him knew he could be cared for if he asked. Hell- Mobei Jun would put the entire day aside if the human truly requested it.
But he couldn't help but imagine he could push it all too far. To be so willing to help must've meant Qinghua was so cruel to steal that loving attention and force it upon himself. He objectively was a nuisance to be complaining and demanding things, and it wasn't like he absolutely needed help to recover (even if it would mean being in pain much, much longer).
Luckily, Mobei Jun interrupted his early morning spiral, "Your king doesn't believe it."
"Well, this one has stuff to do anyway," he mumbled. "I'll manage, my king."
Mobei Jun grunted and held Qinghua closer. Admittedly, the pressure combined with the coldness to make his brain swirl in a wonderfully drunk way. The human dared to live in that bliss for a few moments before he continued, "This servant should start his day." He didn't move at all; he didn't have the mental or physical strength to push his husband away.
And either Shang Qinghua's words were too quiet or Mobei Jun decided to not give them a response, as they stayed there for a while. The pain didn't exactly vanish, but it stayed at a respectable distance while the man laid slack in Mobei Jun's arms. Just as he almost drifted off into sleep once more, he tiredly mentioned, "You're helping."
"Good."
Shang Qinghua struggled with the words, they all jumbled into his head like a partially filled scrabble board. He managed, "Love you a lot. I'm going to tomorrow now."
He barely heard his husband before he actually fell asleep, "This king adores you too. Rest now, Xiao Hua."