Work Text:
Paintbrush holds their head in their hands. They don’t know what to paint but they’ve been here for more than a couple minutes. Their head is so foggy and their body is so heavy. Paintbrush leans forward onto the empty canvas, laying their forehead into it. A sigh escapes from them as they hear the paint room door open. The whole reason they got up early this morning was because they wanted to paint without being seen, well they also just couldn't sleep but that's besides the point. Their hair hadn’t been cooperating and it’s clear how little sleep they’ve gotten, they did not want to be seen like this but they were way too tired to do anything about it now. Quiet footsteps enter the room, which would’ve been impossible to hear but in the quiet room it seems to echo. Painty continues to lean against the canvas, hoping, whoever it is, they would just leave them alone. The person stops close to them, Paintbrush refuses to move and acknowledge whoever it is.
“...Are you okay?” A high pitched voice comes from the left of them. Paintbrush groggily lifts their head, turning to face the person. Balloon fidgets with his hands as he takes in Paintbrushes' appearance. Their hair is untamed, many loose strands are bending down, almost touching their face. Not only that, but they have deep eye bags, almost like they haven't slept in many days. Paintbrush groans, pressing their hands onto their face.
“What do you need?” Paintbrush sits up as straight as they can, they really didn’t want to deal with anyone today, their patience is abnormally low recently and they just want to be alone, though It’s not like they could ever get that in this crowded hotel. Balloon frowns at the suspicion but won't back down. It’s clear whatever's happening with Painty is not simply just a bad day, plus, everyone’s hardly seen them all week.
“I was just asking if you're okay, I don't need anything.” Balloon continues to study Paintbrush, waiting for an answer to his original question. Paintbrush still doesn’t answer, looking off into the distance almost as if they hadn’t heard him.
“...Paintbrush?”
“I just slept horrible, I’m fine.” Paintbrush leans forward onto the canvas again, marking the end of the conversation. Balloon glances off to the side, considering leaving Paintbrush alone, but he feels kind of guilty at the thought of it. They seem like they might pass out at any second. He turns back to Paintbrush, deciding to stay.
“No offence but you seem like a mess right now.” Balloon stops messing with his hands and instead places them on his hips, tilting his head slightly in concern. Paintbrush winces at the wording, they know Balloon doesn’t mean it as an insult but it still comes off as one.
“I'm fine.” They shake their head, attempting to brush off Balloon’s concern, rubbing their hands down their face. Balloon frowns but just stands still, not knowing where to go from here. They both sit in silence for a minute, it’s a little awkward, but Balloon, again, doesn't make any move to leave. Balloon looks at Paintbrush’s hair, he knows how much they care for it so it’s strange that they let it get so wild.
“Do you need help with that?” He points at Paintbrush’s hair. He’s not sure how he can help, but he’s sure he can figure it out if Paintbrush really needs him to. Paintbrush eyes Balloon with suspicion. He can’t help, he doesn’t even have bristles. In fact, no one in this hotel has bristles, so how can he think he will help?
“How can you even help? You don’t even have hair.” They question, voicing their thoughts while still scrutinizing him. Balloon looks away from Paintbrush as they stare at him, nervously tracing the lining of the wood on the floor with his foot.
“It would help if you had someone who could see the places you can’t, right?” Balloon explains, still pressing at the ground. Paintbrush stops staring at him so aggressively, instead looking with curiosity. What reason does Balloon have to help them? As much as Paintbrush doesn’t want to admit it, they really haven’t been able to take care of themself properly lately, maybe Balloon could actually help them.
They sigh, lifting their head from the canvas. They try to stand but their vision becomes blurred, pressing a hand to the canvas to steady themselves doesn't help with how unsteady the canvas is. They brace themself for impact but nothing comes, they're still standing. They blink their eyes a few times to clear them, Balloon’s front of them, attempting to hold them steady.
“...Sorry..” They apologize as they try to stand on their own. It wasn't nearly this bad when they made it down here, why, only now, can they not stand properly? Balloon, who's a little panicked, keeps his hands on Paintbrush’s’ sides as he helps them stabilize themself.
“Woah! Careful.” Balloon watches their face, Paintbrushes’ eyes are partially closed and glazed over. He frowns, maybe Paintbrush just needs to go back to bed.
“Sorry, again…Let’s just head to my room. That is, if you're still willing to help.” They put a hand on one of Balloon’s arms that's holding them, begrudgingly accepting his earlier offer, attempting to brush past what just happened. Balloon hesitates, still worried about their physical health.
“But you-”
“Are you going to help me or not?” Paintbrush interrupts. Balloon huffs in annoyance but ultimately lets the topic go, he’ll just try to help however they let him.
“Yeah, let me help you walk there.” Balloon motions to wrap his arm around them. Painty frowns, shaking their head. Balloon points to his head, offering for them to rest an arm on it as they walk. Paintbrush chuckles.
“You're not gonna let me walk on my own are you?” Painty laughs at his insistence. Balloon shakes his head, offering his hand out to Paintbrush, if they wouldn't let him help closely then he’ll just pull them towards himself if they begin to fall over.
“You couldn’t even stand up on your own, just let me help.” Balloon says, pushing his hand closer to Paintbrush.
“Alright, alright.” Paintbrush decides to accept his help, accepting the second offer specifically. They put a hand on top of Balloon’s head, leaning their body weight onto him. Balloon responds by wrapping his hand around Paintbrush, keeping them close. As they walk, Balloon stares forwards, with a determined expression. Paintbrush stifles a laugh, patting Balloon on the head.
Once they both make it to Paintbrush's room, Paintbrush opens the door, beginning to walk on their own. They pause at the door, putting a finger up to their lips to tell Balloon to stay quiet, Balloon raises an eyebrow but listens to them. They both enter, Balloon looks around the room, it looks the same as any other room, which is not surprising. Balloon’s eyes land on the bed on the right, Fan’s still sleeping, his light breathing fills the room.
Paintbrush walks to the bathroom door, gesturing for Balloon to follow. Balloon enters the bathroom silently, watching as Paintbrush opens the cupboard underneath the sink. He sits on the edge of the bathtub, kicking his legs as he watches them fill up the bottle with water. They close the door as it fills up, keeping the sound of the rushing water confined to one room so as to not wake Fan. Once the bottle is half filled they turn off the tap, closing the bottle and test spraying it into the sink. They glance over to Balloon, before handing the bottle to him.
“I already washed my hair, but it still will not stay-” They attempt to push their hair back into place, it falls down into their face and they groan, clenching their fist and putting it onto the sink counter, trying to keep themself calm. “-It won't stay how I want it to.”
Balloon pulls his hands closer to himself, a little worried of being so close when they seem to be getting angry quicker. He nods, though Paintbrush cannot see since their eyes are closed. Balloon shifts forward, patting the tub below him to encourage Paintbrush to sit in front of him.
“I’ll see what I can do then.” He smiles at Paintbrush, who looks over at Balloon, giving him a gentle amused smile. They walk over and sit down on the floor in front of Balloon, pulling their legs up to hold close to their body. They close their eyes, the scratchiness from their low time of sleep getting to them. Balloon runs a hand through Paintbrush’s hair. They almost flinch forward out of instinct but instead they try to relax, it’s not like Balloon can ruin their hair anymore than it already is. Balloon’s hand gets stuck on a tangle, which surprises him a little since he didn’t even know bristles could tangle. Most of the strands are loose, but their hair is still relatively soft. Only when Balloon’s hand gets stuck on another tangle does Paintbrush realize they haven't given Balloon a comb, they must really be out of it to not even get a comb.
Paintbrush quickly stands up, almost startling Balloon. Again, Balloon uses both of his hands to hold them still, keeping them from falling over.
“One sec.” They stumble out of the bathroom, leaving Balloon to sit in confusion. Balloon stares at the door blankly, patting at the tub in a random rhythm. He hears a crash, making him jump and almost fall back into the tub. He sits still for a second, just when he’s about to get up Paintbrush appears at the door, pressing a hand to their head and holding a comb in the other. They walk in and sit back down in front of Balloon, turning their back to him. Balloon stares in disbelief.
“What was that!?”
Paintbrush shakes their head, the movement making them dizzy.
“Nothing much, I just hit my leg on my bed.” They speak quietly, they keep forgetting their words, it’s making it hard to talk. Balloon seems to pick up on this, pulling Paintbrush closer to help give them some comfort. Balloon puts a hand on their shoulder, watching them with worry. Paintbrush furrows their eyebrows, annoyed at themself for making this such a big deal. They hand Balloon the comb, then cross their arms, relaxing back against Balloon. Balloon begins combing, starting towards the edges as they had seen Painty doing before. He puts a hand to the side of their head, to which Painty hesitantly leans against. Balloon smiles, continuing to help them smooth their hair out. He notices he doesn't really know what to do with the spray bottle of water they gave him.
“Um, what do I need the water for?” He places the comb down for a moment, picking up the bottle and swirling the liquid inside. Paintbrush hums in response, opening their eyes to glance back Balloon.
“You can just spray a little, it’ll make it easier to brush.” They shut their eyes again, relaxing into the touch they don’t often get from others. Balloon keeps his hand on the side of Paintbrush’s head, he could use both of his hands to brush better but if they enjoy it being there so much, who is he to move it? He sprays a small amount of water into their hair, then places the bottle down, grabbing the comb to continue to gently comb through their hair. Paintbrush leans further back onto Balloon, almost stopping him from being able to do his job, he continues to the best of his ability, making his way closer to the roots of their bristles with every brush.
It's been about five minutes when Balloon is sure he’s completely done. All of Paintbrush’s hair is back to how it would normally look: shiny with not a single strand out of place. He places the comb down onto the edge of the tub, admiring his hard work. He realizes he should probably make sure Paintbrush knows he’s done, he taps them on the shoulder, but gets no response.
“Paintbrush?” He leans his head to the hand that is holding Paintbrush, trying to look over, at their face. Paintbrush mumbles something but doesn't move to get up. Balloon realizes they fell asleep. He laughs quietly, his cheeks getting the slightest bit warm. He’s flattered they could feel comfortable enough around him to fall asleep, though maybe he shouldn’t take it personally, they seemed like they could fall asleep at any moment, whether or not he was with them. He leans further to the side, finally able to see Painty’s face. He chuckles, poking them on the cheek with his free hand.
“Paintbrush, wake up. I’m done!” He continues to poke at their cheek, hoping that if his voice isn’t enough to wake them up, his consistent poking will.
Paintbrush opens their eyes slightly, blinking at the bright light in the room. They groan and lift themself up, still a little out of it.
“What’s-...what do you want…” They mumble, rubbing their eyes as they yawn. They bring their hands down, looking around the room. Balloon grins as their expression turns to one of confusion than to surprise.
“I fell asleep!?” Paintbrush turns around, looking at Balloon with a nervous smile. “What were you saying?” Their face flushes in embarrassment, they feel slightly guilty for falling asleep on Balloon. Balloon smiles, soothing their nerves slightly.
“I finished!” He brings a hand up to Paintbrush’s hair, running a hand up the side of it. Paintbrush doesn’t feel the need to move away, surprising themself. Sure, Balloon was just working on their hair, but they still would’ve moved to preserve its shape. Balloon smiles to himself again, visibly proud. His cheery smile is contagious, Paintbrush watches him with amusement. They stand up, walking to the mirror, eyebrows raising in surprise at what they see. He really managed to fix it. Balloon rushes up behind them, peeking into the mirror the best he can from how short he is. Paintbrush looks down at him in the mirror, huffing out a disbelieving laugh. Balloon looks up at them in the mirror, an eyebrow raised in confusion.
“Why are you looking in the mirror, you can see me without it.” Paintbrush pats Balloon’s head, huffing out a laugh. Balloon’s excitement and the way his eyes silently search for approval is adorable to them. Balloon gives a shy smile at having been so obvious.
“Well, I'm curious. Did I do okay?” He turns to look at them in person rather than the mirror, his expression strangely serious, Paintbrush gently smiles at him.
“Yeah, thank you.” They continue to caress his head, in a way to praise him and also just because they enjoy how happy he seems to get at it. They look back in the mirror, frowning at their dark eye bags. Now that their hair is fixed, all they have to worry about is that. Balloon follows their line of sight, watching as their earlier contentment becomes a distant frown. Balloon turns his attention to Paintbrush in person than hops up to put his hands on both sides of Paintbrush’s face. Paintbrush turns their attention to him in surprise. He’s floating in front of them, slowly making his way back to the ground, dragging Paintbrush down to his height.
He continues to stare intently at them, analyzing their face as they blush in confusion. They start to get a little uncomfortable at the attention and at the position they are in.
“You should really get a proper night's rest.”
Paintbrush shakes their head and sighs. That’s really the conclusion he came to after staring at them for so long. Balloon ignores their slightly annoyed expression and continues.
“Maybe I can clean your face to give you more energy for now.” Balloon doesn't even wait for an answer. He releases Paintbrush from his grip, opening the cabinet to get a washcloth. Paintbrush watches Balloon get the cloth damp, ringing out the excess water. They sit down on the closed toilet seat, accepting it now that Balloon had already gotten everything set up, granted there wasn't much to set up but they don’t mind having their face washed anyway. Balloon turns towards Painty.
He gently pats the wet washcloth to their face. It starts off kinda cold but warms till it reaches the same temperature as Paintbrush. Paintbrush closes their eyes, letting themself enjoy the feeling of someone caring for them. They raise their hand to rest on Balloon’s other hand which is holding the side of their head, just like it was earlier when he was brushing their hair. The feeling of his hand on them is a little strange since they aren't even very close, but maybe this is just what they need: The comfort of someone who isn’t connected to their day to day life.
Paintbrush opens their eyes, looking at Balloon’s relaxed expression, they can only assume their expression is similar. They watch as Balloon’s arm moves, gently pressing the towel into different places on their face. His expression turns a little tense as Paintbrush watches him.
“This is a little weird,” Paintbrush states, but they seem fully comfortable. Balloon hums, waiting for them to continue. “It’s a little weird to have someone doing the things I can do for myself but…It’s kinda nice.”
Balloon gently smiles at them, happy to help them, even if they may not need it just like they say they don't. He places the cloth down on the sink counter and reaches for a dry one, patting their face with it to remove any of the excess water, squishing their face a little.
“I'm glad I could at least comfort you.” Balloon caresses Paintbrushes cheek with his thumb of his hand on their face. He raises his eyebrows as he feels the warmth there.
“Your face is hot.”
Paintbrush raises an eyebrow, trying to figure out what way he means that.
“Huh?”
“I mean physically, like to the touch. Are you sick?”
Paintbrush thinks back on the last few days, they knew they were sick but they kinda just ignored it. That’s probably why they kept oversleeping and feeling dizzy at any sudden movement. And their pounding headache…and the nausea.….and clouded thoughts. Geez they really should’ve paid more attention.
“Yeah I think I am,” They admit, laughing a little. “Sorry for getting you involved, I just didn't realize until now.”
“Uh, stay here then, I'm gonna go get something.” Balloon opens the door to the bathroom and rushes out. Paintbrush presses at their eyelids. No wonder they couldn’t sleep well, they really should've noticed sooner, usually they’re pretty decent at taking care of themself. It must be pretty bad if it impaired them this much. They lean back against the toilet, waiting for Balloon. What feels like minutes pass, Paintbrush almost assumes Balloon just ditched them, but he shows up, rushing into the room with a thermometer and some medicine.
“Here take your temperature, I know you probably have a fever but it can’t hurt to check, right?” Balloon hands the thermometer to Paintbrush. Paintbrush puts the thermometer in their mouth, watching as Balloon cleans up the washcloths and the hair supplies, their expression is blank but they’re surprised by his thoroughness. About thirty seconds later the thermometer beeps, Paintbrush reaches up to grab it but Balloon beats them to it.
“101.3” He reads, his eyebrows furrow with worry. “Have you been sick since you stopped showing up for dinner on time?”
Paintbrush hesitates, has Balloon really been keeping track. Have they been keeping track themself? They take a moment to think but nothing comes to mind, the sickness removing any thought they conjure up. Balloon notices how they narrow their eyes in thought, seemingly struggling.
“You don’t have to think so hard about it if it hurts your head.” Balloon pats a hand on their leg which brings their attention back to him.
“I mean, that makes the most sense for when it probably started.” Paintbrush answers his question. Balloon doesn't seem too pleased with the inconclusive response, but he doesn't blame them for not knowing. Paintbrush gazes at Balloon’s contemplative expression, he appears to be trying to come up with the answers himself. They're fascinated by Balloon's determination to take care of them, it’s like having your own little nurse, it’s a little funny but it’s also…sweet.
“You don’t have to focus so much on it. It’s my responsibility so you don’t have to worry.” Paintbrush leans forward, placing a hand on Balloon’s head. They feel compelled to do so with how short and round he is. Balloon grabs their hand, holding it in between both of his, meeting their eyes.
“It’s like you said earlier though; it's nice to have someone take care of you, right?” He rubs his thumb on their hand, the motion is soothing. “But if you really don’t want me to focus on it then will you at least take a nap. You seemed like you were about to pass out when I first found you.”
“I had things I was supposed to do today.” Paintbrush puts their free hand on their forehead, not too keen on the idea. They know it would probably be better to listen to Balloon though, it’s not like they can even think straight, anything they try to do doesn't even come out as they intended. Balloon senses the hesitation, he works further to convince them to relax.
“Do you at least have, maybe…three hours to spare?" Balloon inquires. “You need to rest!” Paintbrush pauses to think, Balloon takes the opportunity to further convince them.
“It’s only 1:00 o’clock! You’ll have plenty of time left.”
Painty decides to listen to Balloon and take the opportunity to rest, nodding to Balloon to show their approval at the suggestion. Balloon smiles at them, he looks oddly thankful even though the only one who had anything to gain or lose here was Paintbrush. Balloon takes both of Paintbrush’s hands in his, helping them stand up even though Paintbrush thinks they could do it themself. They allow him to help, shaking their head and smiling as the thought of how sweet he actually is comes to their head again. All of this caution is unnecessary, but, again, it's sweet of him.
Paintbrush allows Balloon to gently guide them out of the bathroom to their bed. Pulling back the blankets, Balloon gestures for Paintbrush to lay down. Paintbrush sits in their bed but before they can lay down Balloon stops them.
“Wait, is there anything you need before you lay? Like are you hungry or anything?”
Paintbrush shakes their head. Along with all the symptoms they have, they have completely lost their appetite lately.
“Not that I know of, no. I don’t need anything.”
Balloon nods, but looks off to the side, thinking of anything he forgot. Suddenly he seems to realize something as he rushes back into the bathroom, coming out with the medicine he brought upstairs earlier. He reads the box then pours some of the liquid into the cup that came with it.
“Here take this, I think it should align with your symptoms. I kinda just guessed what you had since I didn't wanna make you stress about it.”
Paintbrush takes the tiny cup in their hand, smiling at Balloon’s consideration of their mental state. They drink all the medicine in one smooth movement, groaning at the disgusting taste. They hand the cup back to Balloon, who smiles back at them.
“Good job!” Balloon takes the cup and walks back to the bathroom to wash it out. Paintbrush blushes slightly at the praise, making their already hot face hotter for a completely different reason. It was such normal praise and yet it seemed to get to them…weird.
Balloon comes back to the room and places the cup on the bedside table next to the lamp, which is turned off since Fan is still sleeping. Paintbrush briefly wonders if they got him sick since they share a room but their attention is brought back to Balloon as he speaks.
“You’ll need to take this again in four hours. Around that time you’ll probably already be awake again.” He looks back at Painty, who is still sitting up in bed, listening to him best they can. Balloon feels a little guilty for trying to make them stay caught up when clearly all they want to do is sleep.
“Don’t worry about that though, I’ll make sure you take it on time.” He smiles at them, walking over to Paintbrush.
“You can lay down now, sorry for making you wait.”
Paintbrush nods, a little out of it. They had felt a wave of exhaustion hit them the moment they sat on their bed, the familiar softness making their eyelids grow heavy. They shift down in their spot, laying down with only their legs under the blankets. Balloon lifts the comforter up to Paintbrush’s chin, tucking them in. They frown as they blush a little, –not that it’s noticeable with their already flushed face– it feels a little like they are being babied. They aren’t able to think about it for long as they feel themself relaxing further into the sheets. Balloon sits on the edge of the bed, swaying his legs as he already begins to plan what he’ll do for them later.
Paintbrush keeps their eyes open for a moment longer, resisting the urge to fall asleep as they observe Balloon who's watching the ground. Balloon looks over at them, realizing they're still awake.
“Should I stay here? Do you think you’ll need me?” He seems unsure, curious as to if it would make Paintbrush more comfortable to know someone here for them when they need it or if they think they’ll be fine on their own. Paintbrush laughs a little at Balloon’s doubt, the sound is soft, he seemed so sure of himself while he was taking care of them.
“You can go ahead and leave. I need to take a nap, remember?”
Balloon nods, still not making a move to leave though.
“I’ll leave when you fall asleep. Is that okay?”
Paintbrush nods sleepily, they close their eyes, actually deciding to let themself fall asleep. Balloon continues to kick his feet, quietly humming a familiar tune, further drawing Paintbrush to sleep.
Balloon smiles at them as he hears their breath even out. He hops down from the edge of the bed. He’ll have to make them some soup to eat when they wake back up, maybe he could continue to nurse them back to health. His face warms slightly as he thinks back to how much they allowed him to help. He touches his cheek, surprised by the warmth. He walks to the door, gently opening it. He steps out, looking back one more time, face still warm…maybe the sickness is getting to him too.