monachopsis.

e l e v e n

the next day, corbyn gets to go home. jonah brings him fresh clothes to change into, and ends up having to help him get dressed, much to corbyn's embarrassment. he tries to pull his shirt over his head on his own, and cries out as his ribs and collarbone protest.

"here, let me," jonah says gently, taking the shirt from corbyn. he carefully fits the shirt over corbyn's head and helps him slide his arms in, tugging the shirt down and stepping back.

"thank you," corbyn murmurs, his cheeks flushing, and jonah sends him a soft smile in reply.

"i'll go get you checked out of here and pick up your meds from the pharmacy. will you be okay to finish getting dressed on your own?"

"yes," corbyn says quickly, hugging his jeans to his chest. "i'll be fine."

jonah heads out of the room, pausing to call over his shoulder, "if you realise you need help, just wait for me to come back. otherwise, meet me at the pharmacy."

once jonah is gone, corbyn wriggles into his jeans with minimal pain, occasionally biting back whimpers as sharp pain shoots through his torso. he slides his feet into his vans, not bothering to tie them, and slowly exits the room. jonah is standing by the pharmacy, a small bag in hand as he waits for corbyn.

corbyn makes his way over to jonah, the older man seeing him coming and meeting him halfway.

"oh, corbs, there you are. ready to go home?"

"yeah," corbyn nods, and jonah curls his arm around corbyn's waist as they walk out of the hospital. corbyn appreciates the gesture, leaning slightly into his boyfriend in an attempt to alleviate the pain of walking. his entire body feels bruised beyond belief, although his pale skin isn't marred by any unnatural colourations. at this point, all corbyn really wants to do is get home and sleep the day away, not worrying about housework or school or—

"oh my god, i have classes today!" corbyn panics, stumbling slightly in alarm. "and i missed yesterday's classes, too, didn't i? oh god, i'm so far behind, i've missed the due date for my psychology essay—"

"corbyn, calm down," jonah soothes. "you were in a car accident. i'm sure your professors will understand. i'll call them for you, and we'll get it all worked out. it'll be fine."

corbyn presses a palm to his forehead, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment. his head is beginning to throb, the painkillers he was given by a nurse last night all but worn off, and he grimaces, leaning a bit more heavily on jonah. "thanks, jo."

jonah smiles in response, fishing a car key from his pocket. corbyn's brow furrows—didn't he wreck their car?

"i got a rental until we have time to go out and buy a new car together," jonah says, casting a sidelong glance at corbyn. "are you okay with riding in a car?"

"yeah, i think so," corbyn responds slowly, the words long and drawn out. he doesn't think that he has any sort of post-traumatic stress from the accident. he hasn't really pondered it, but thinking of riding in the car again gives him no stress, no anxiety. "i should be fine."

jonah opens the passenger door and makes a sweeping motion with his arm, gently guiding corbyn forward. "in you go, then."

corbyn slides into the passenger seat, gingerly stretching the seatbelt across his shoulder. another twinge of pain pierces his collarbone as he buckles the seatbelt, and he closes his eyes, letting his head drop back against the headrest. "when can i take another painkiller?"

"not until ten. it's nine now, so you have another hour. you've gotta wait twelve hours since taking the last pill to take another one," jonah says as he slides into the driver's seat and starts the car. "is the pain bad?"

"when i move," corbyn murmurs, shifting slightly in his seat.

"then don't move," jonah laughs softly, and corbyn makes a noncommittal sound, keeping his eyes closed. his head hurts, and he can feel himself drifting off again—his body has been working overtime to heal itself, so it makes sense that he's so exhausted. corbyn doesn't fight it, and falls into a light sleep, barely registering the movement of the car.

"babe, we're home," jonah's soft voice wakes him. it feels like only moments later, but corbyn knows better, knows he's been asleep for at least a half hour. he sleepily blinks at jonah, mind foggy from sleep and pain, half-heartedly fumbling for his seatbelt buckle. jonah reaches over and unbuckles it for him, sliding one arm behind corbyn's back and the other under his knees to easily lift him out of the car.

"i can walk," corbyn protests, even as he settles gratefully against jonah's chest.

jonah gives him a fond look, not nearly fooled, but doesn't argue as he uses the hand under corbyn's knees to unlock the apartment door. he sets corbyn down on the couch, and corbyn settles down against the cushions, immediately missing jonah's warmth.

"can we cuddle?" he asks a bit hesitantly, not sure what he's allowed to ask for or not. he hasn't forgotten the circumstances that led to the car accident, and although he's forgiven jonah, he doesn't think he'll ever forget what he saw.

"yeah, of course," jonah says immediately. "did you want your medication first?"

corbyn nods, and jonah hands him two pills and a glass of water. he waits for corbyn to finish downing the pills before setting the glass aside and settling onto the couch next to him. corbyn curls against him, shifting so he's lying on jonah's lap, facing him. he closes his eyes and feels jonah's fingers drift across his face, smoothing over his cheeks and tracing his eyelids. this is what home feels like, he thinks, warm and content and secure. not a place, but a person. and then he thinks, but if home is jonah, can he ever leave?