Work Text:
The room is dark already when Ming Lou stumbles in, almost held up by Ah Cheng as he guides him in. He doesn’t bother lowering the hand shielding his eyes from even the minimal amount of light that is coming in through the hallway, there is no need to see when Ah Cheng is there to take care of him. He won’t allow it usually; has gotten angry at him for trying to more than once. It has never helped to permanently dissuade him however, earning him only petulant glares and pointed barbs even when the hands on him remain careful and gentle.
This particular migraine started early this morning, first signs making it hard to see after leaving bed already. It makes him feel like he is not quite there. No appetite for breakfast and hands ever so slightly unsteady as he gestures for Ah Cheng to ready the car early. His brother is far too perceptive of him even when he tries to hide it, though, and all but forces some aspirin and warm water on him before he allows them to leave. There is no point in arguing against going into the office today, they both know meetings can’t be missed just because Ming Lou feels like his skull is slowly being cracked open and the insides stabbed at the longer he sits there and tries to listen. It doesn’t matter that his eyes can barely focus on the characters of the report in front of him and that every word spoken around him is too loud, a knife jammed into his ear and making his fists clench inadvertently under the table. He can’t do anything against his complexion turning paler than usual and even the thought of forcing down any food during the brief lunch break makes his stomach lurch almost painfully; barely managing some kind of smile as one of the officers remarks that he doesn’t look well.
Luckily, Ah Cheng is there, his ever dutiful shadow in more ways than the obvious. He hands Ming Lou a cup of only lukewarm tea, the smell barely there and one of the only things he knows Ming Lou can not only stomach but will also help with the nausea. He effortlessly involves the nosy officer in small talk, something about the bicycle the man bought for his son recently and Ming Lou tries to remember if Ah Cheng played a hand in that, if they have a reason to want to know more about this man in particular – but it’s useless. His thoughts scatter like flower petals in a storm, blown away before he can even gather them to look at properly.
The meeting takes too long, as it always does, but especially today. It’s already afternoon by the time they can finally leave and Ming Lou takes extra care to bow a little deeper all around, just in case he caused offense with his inevitable inattentiveness today. Ah Cheng all but subtly nudges him towards the exit under the guise of helping him into his coat and Ming Lou bites down on any expression of gratefulness trying to show on his face.
He remains rigid in the backseat of the car, trying and failing to remember what the next item on their schedule is. He starts when something dark appears in front of his face, silently cursing himself when his eyes focus enough to recognize that it’s just a cloth.
“Put this over your eyes,” Ah Cheng says with only a brief glance back at him as he’s holding it out. “We’re going home and are already several streets from the office.”
“There is still work-”
“There is nothing more that you need to do today,” Ah Cheng cuts him off, voice even and almost emotionless, if Ming Lou didn’t know him too well. He’s being reasonable in that stoic way that he has perfected when he needs to handle Ming Lou. Needless to say, Ming Lou doesn’t like being handled. “There are no more meetings, everything left is analysis and that report from Secretary Li.”
He doesn’t explicitly say it, but even with his brain on fire, Ming Lou understands the implication; Ming Lou’s ever capable and over-qualified ‘assistant’ will take care of these smaller matters. Another day, he would argue and overturn Ah Cheng’s suggestion resolutely. Today, he takes the offered cloth with shaking fingers and leans back against the backseat of the car as he drapes it over his eyes without another word until the car turns into their driveway.
He hears the car door open and close, still so unbearably loud to him even as he can tell Ah Cheng tries to shut it more softly. It takes several minutes before the door at his side opens, just when he was considering getting out by himself. But then there are steady hands on his arms and back and he is gently guided out, one hand briefly in his hair to make sure he doesn’t bump his head against the frame of the car. He crumbles the cloth in his hand as they walk towards the house, preferring to just cover his eyes like this in case anyone sees them.
Ah Cheng must have run in to pull the blinds closed before he came back to get him, because the house is not as painfully bright inside as it is outside. They make their way up the stairs haltingly, one of Ah Cheng’s arms securely around his shoulders as he steadies him. He wants to protest when they arrive in his bedroom and Ah Cheng only briefly stops him to close the door behind them before he starts fussing with his coat and is then right back to guide him onto the bed.
“Enough,” he grinds out. “I can lay down by myself.”
“Of course you can, Minister Ming,” Ah Cheng replies dryly and seamlessly starts unbuttoning his waist coat.
Ming Lou wishes he had the energy to actually get angry with him, but he barely manages to glare at him before he is maneuvered down and under the covers. Which is ridiculous, because he’s not actually cold or sick, but when he reaches up to push them away, they get resolutely tucked upwards and then tucked in all around his body until he isn’t sure if he’s being trapped or cared for.
“Stay,” Ah Cheng commands and Ming Lou inwardly balks at the ease in tone, but listens. If only because he isn’t Ming Tai and getting out of bed when he’s feeling unwell only to throw a tantrum and make a point that he can is beneath him.
His eyes flutter closed of their own accord while he lies there, distantly wondering if it’s too early to take more aspirin. He doesn’t feel like he could sleep with the way his head is throbbing and burning, but there is nothing else to do.
He doesn’t bother opening his eyes when he hears soft footsteps padding back into the room, but his frown deepens when he feels the bed dip with another person’s weight and then something blessedly cool is placed over his eyes. He lets out a sigh almost against his will and then there are cool fingertips on his temples and he all but melts into the careful touch. One wouldn’t think that a man as used to violence and handling guns as Ah Cheng had such soft hands.
The room is quiet except for their breathing as he lies there and lets his younger brother gently massage his temples. The pain doesn’t go away, but he feels himself settle deeper into the bed, his body unwinding at the careful attention. He doesn’t quite fall asleep with it, but he is definitely drifting by the time warm lips press gently to the top of his head and those gentle fingers card his hair back behind his ears in an almost absently affectionate touch before it all pulls away. He almost wants to call for Ah Cheng to stay, to remain by his side and pamper him.
It’s knowing that Ah Cheng would, if he only asked, that makes him keep his mouth shut.
It’s knowing that once he finishes the work left behind by Ming Lou, Ah Cheng will return to his side with absolute certainty, as he always does, that makes it bearable.