I make these boys do so much paperwork and business stuff all the time, it's more like an office AU than a pair of thieves. I need to make them steal something soon.
Anyway, day 5 is here! The prompt is: Comfort! And you can't have comfort without a whole lot of hurt first. Who's ready to feel the pain? I am! In fact, I do every day of my life! HAHAHAHA!
Anyway, I won't keep you all waiting. See you at the bottom of the page!
The moment Sven woke up, he knew it was going to be a horrible day.
As he got dressed and had some coffee and began working on his various tasks, the feeling grew worse and worse, bit by bit. Not quite a pain, not even an ache, but a sinking feeling in his stomach that made him clammy and pallid, as if he were teetering over the edge of a large, dark pit. He could feel dampness gathering under his arms, behind his knees, and in his hair, but when he checked, there was nothing to wipe away.
The feeling persisted as the day ticked on. At an early morning meeting, Sven took notes, marked pros and cons, and even nodded once or twice to show that he was engaged (he was, he really was). After the meeting, Sven found that his bones seemed to be curving inward, like a bug curling its limbs together tightly as it died. Still, he kept working. What other choice did he have?
Stomach aches were nothing new, and neither was the occasional bout of being under the weather. While not pleasant, it was nothing he couldn't power through. After all, what sort of leader- or even what sort of Toppat- would he be, if he couldn't handle a little stress? Maybe he'd even give himself a little award when the day was done, a lakridsfiskar or two (he tried to ignore the way his stomach roiled at the thought).
Sven's stomach continued to roil even now, as he hunched over his desk in his office; a neat stack of blank paperwork on his left, and an increasingly haphazard pile of filled out paperwork on his right. He soldiered on, focusing on the deep blue of his pen as he put a check mark here, some initials there, and so on and so on until it was only five minutes until lunch hour. Five minutes until he could get up from his desk, head to the nearest bathroom and-
"Hey, boss, I've got some more papers for you."
Sven blinked out of his stupor as Burt Curtis stepped into his office, holding a folder in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. He grunted in acknowledgement and continued to do his work, but…
Now that Burt was in the room, Sven couldn't focus. He could feel the man's eyes watching him as he set the folder on the desk and placed the mug next to Sven's free hand. Sven grabbed the mug to take a sip, pausing when he realized there was water in the mug, not coffee.
"Water's better for you than coffee," Burt said, as if anticipating the question.
Sven stared at him for a moment, then took a short sip. He swallowed thickly. It tasted like nothing, but it still made his stomach grumble. He set the cup back on the desk and pressed his mouth in a thin line. Burt was still there. "What else?" Sven asked shortly.
"...You okay?" Burt asked.
The water sloshed around in his stomach, not to the point of nausea, but enough to make the tips of his fingers go cold. "Yes."
"You sure?" Burt was peering over his shoulder, getting into his personal space.
"I'm fine," Sven grit out.
"Then why are you scribbling all over your paperwork?"
Sven stopped, then slowly looked down. He thought he'd been initialing someone's request form, but the letters had become a tight web of knotted blue, looping in on itself over and over, nearly tearing the paper-
Sven jumped back from the desk. That was a mistake.
His stomach went from a stiff organ delicately supported in a covering of tight muscles into something with a tension rivaling a rubber band just short of snapping. The pain hit him in droves and he fell out of his chair.
Burt was on him in a second, holding him and asking "Are you okay? What's wrong? Where does it hurt?"
Sven couldn't respond, only able to whimper and moan as his stomach tried to take the shape it had before, a stiff lump that was uncomfortable and unnatural but at least it didn't hurt this damn much-
Burt pulled back and was speaking into his headset, hardly taking a second for the person on the other end to respond before he picked Sven up and carried him out of the office.
Sven's eyes burned, ashamed and humiliated by the pathetic display anyone that they might pass would see him in, but unable to do little more than cling to Burt like a lifeline as the man moved smoothly down the halls, taking turns Sven didn't remember existing until left and right lost meaning.
At some point, they crossed a threshold, and it was quiet now, almost unbearably so in the ongoing aftermath of his pain. Burt set him gently on something cold and soft before he whispered in his ear, lips shy of brushing the shell, "wait right here, okay? I'll be right back." Then he was gone, and Sven was alone.
Sven peeked his eyes open, barely able to see that he was in a bedroom with a dim lamp as the only light behind the film of tears he was desperately trying not to shed.
How could he let things get this bad? It was just a stomach ache! An awful, awful stomach ache, but still! He should have been able to deal with this! He closed his eyes, only to imagine the chief and his right hand man standing over him, disappointment and disgust in their eyes. So pathetic. So worthless. So useless.
A light flashed briefly behind his lids before disappearing again. "Sven…" Burt's voice murmured, and Sven felt a weight dip on the bed. Burt took Sven's hat and shoes, setting them somewhere to the side before he carefully pulled Sven up so that he was leaning on the pillow. Sven groaned, peeking his eyes open as Burt murmured apologies and handed him a small cup of bright pink liquid. "Drink," Burt commanded gently. Sven gulped it down like a shot, shuddering at the sticky, chalky taste of it coating his throat. He took the cup of water and drank slowly, watching Burt fiddle with a series of items on the table next to the bed: a cloth, a bottle of tea, a stuffed shark for some reason, and a sock full of… something.
Burt caught him squinting at the items. He picked up the cloth and placed it over Sven's forehead. "In case you get a fever," he explained, then shook the bottle of tea. "For when you can stomach more than water. And these two…" he weighed the shark and the sock in his hands. "I got the shark from an IKEA. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but… yeah. The sock is something I used to do before the clan. Look," he carefully turned Sven so that he was lying on his side, handing him the shark before laying next to him, flush to Sven's back. Sven made a noise of protest at the closeness, but was stunned into silence when Burt pressed the sock to his stomach. It was warm, almost hot, and Sven felt himself ease into the heat with a sigh. "Too hot?" Burt asked quietly.
"No, just… keep doing that." Sven brought his hand over Burt's and pressed it into himself. Burt got the message and gently stroked the sock up and down Sven's stomach, his eyelashes brushing against the back of Sven's neck as he did so. Sven felt around the sock and hummed, "sand?"
"Rice," Burt explained. "Surprisingly good for holding heat."
Sven hummed again, letting the ministrations spread through him and slowly undo the stiff bits of muscle that made up his body. Suddenly, an image of the paperwork he'd ruined flashed in his mind, and he took a sharp inhale, only to groan at the pain it caused.
Burt must have been a mind reader. "I let the right hand man know that you're sick and taking the day off, and so am I." Sven stiffened, eyes stinging at the thought of the right hand's withering glare of disapproval- "He said to take a break when you need it next time, instead of forcing through. He's not mad at you, Sven. Neither is the chief. You're fine," he wrapped Sven in a tight hug, still rubbing his stomach. "You're fine."
Sven took a shaky breath. "Th-thank you…" he murmured tiredly.
He felt Burt's soft smile on the nape of his neck. "Take care of yourself."
Sven hummed in agreement, letting Burt's gentle touches ease the pain away.
Me: *holding Sven in my hand* Look at this relatable boy! *uses him to light my gas-powered stove. Gas-lighting him, if you will*
In all seriousness, who hasn't blamed themselves for being sick? Back in my day, we went to school when we were dying, and we liked it! (Seriously, though, if you're sick, don't go to school; it's bad for you and the people around you)
I am very much in the camp of "Sven gets stress stomach aches and Burt takes care of him". There's something so intimate and loving about holding a loved one close to you as you care for them and help them feel better... not that I really know what that's like. But that's what my imagination is for! God gave me a lot of it so I wouldn't have to touch another living human in my life, ever. #asexualthings
Rice socks! Very handy in case you can't get your hands on a heating pad. Here's how to make one if you don't know already:
1. Fill a sock with rice! It should be a long, thick sock with no holes or thin spots, and you should fill it with dry rice so that it at least fills the foot part while still leaving room to tie a knot in the leg part. It might be a good idea to put another sock on the outside, in case you use it so much that the rice starts falling out.
2. Tie the knot! Close to the full part, but not so close that there's not some flexibility when handling the sock. I like to do a standard double knot; something that won't come undone easily but can be if necessary. I think you could do any knot you want, but that's whatever.
3. Microwave it! Depending on how strong your microwave is, you can do anything from a minute to two minutes. Careful not to burn the rice! (It's bound to happen, but try not to set the house on fire.) The rice is likely to "sweat" a bit, so don't be surprised if your sock's a little wet. If it's sopping wet... God help you, I don't know what you did wrong.
Bonus Tip: DON'T put the sock on your bare skin, it can burn you! Keep a layer of fabric (a shirt or a blanket) between your skin and the sock, and try to use your best judgement. If you think it's too hot, set it off to the side for a minute, then try again. You'll also get a neat warm spot on your bed to snuggle against! As the sock starts losing heat (which can happen more quickly than you might think), you can put it fully on your skin to absorb the last bits of warmth. Also, be wary of any stray grains of rice in your bed (that's the purpose of the second sock, to keep the sock holding the rice from getting thin from use).
Also, IKEA shark for Sven. Burt does it for the memes, but also because stuffed animals are cute and Sven deserves cute things.
Speaking of Sven, the food he mentions, lakridsfiskar, is also known as actual Swedish Fish. They're fish-shaped licorice candies that can be sweet or salty, or even bright yellow and lemon flavored (from the singular site I used for research, gummy and licorice candies seem to be the most popular kind of candies in Sweden besides chocolates). The sweet red Swedish Fish that you might be more familiar with aren't that popular in Sweden at all. The more you know!
Anyway, that's it for this episode of Curtisson Week. Tune in tomorrow for day 6! We're almost done, and then we'll move on to the next ship week! Who wants to guess what the ship will be? Leave your guesses in a review, and I'll see you around. Until then!