Happy Christmas if you celebrate it! If you don't, I hope you're having a fantastic day!

Trigger warning: Mentions of self harm, vomit.

Andy wakes properly at past midday, though still with the migraine, and hauls himself out of bed. He can't face the thought of getting dressed, so pulls one of Remington's onesies from the back of the chair and zips himself into it. He holds a hand to his head as he descends the stairs, finds Remington in the living room with his laptop.

The boy looks up when he hears Andy, closes the laptop and puts it down. "Any better?" He asks, "cuddle?"

Andy settles on the couch with his husband, leant against his side and closing his eyes when Remington massages his scalp gently. "'s slightly better," he mumbles, "that feels good."

"You need to take some time off," Remington whispers, "being so busy isn't good for you right now. And I don't wanna see you getting any more migraines."

"But the album..."

"Is not as important as you." He holds Andy's hand. "Just have a couple weeks off," he suggests, "stay at home, sleep in late. You need it."

Andy sighs.

"Look, I know you wanna get it done, Andy, I do, but you can't seriously tell me you'd rather finish it a few weeks earlier and have migraines all the time than just spending some time at home to work on your mental health." He leans down and picks up his laptop. "We could even look at some houses. I know you wanted to do that."

The man closes his eyes, yawns. "It's not that bad, Remi," he mumbles, "I'll be fine."

Remington shakes his head. "It is that bad, not least because you never call me Remi and you just did. You won't be fine if you keep forcing yourself to deal with it, because soon dealing with it will mean cutting your hands off at midnight."

"I always call you Remi."

"No you don't. Andy, it's okay to need time to heal. I won't let you do this to yourself."

Andy knows he's right. He's not fine. "Okay," he gives in, "houses sounds nice."

"Good. I'll have a google, see what's for sale. Is there anything you want in the house? Y'know, a modern kitchen? A big garden? Anything like that?"

The man shrugs. "You choose," he says, "I trust you. You'll find something perfect."

Remington opens google, types in houses for sale near me. "Have you tried painkillers?" He wonders, seeing as Andy's migraine is no less.

"No."

"Would they help?"

"Maybe, I dunno. Google it?" He presses his face into Remington's shoulder as the younger opens a new tab, listening to the soft typing and mouse clicking.

"It says 'It's not advisable to wait until the headache worsens before taking painkillers, as it's often too late for the medicine to work.' Oh."

Andy whimpers. "Fantastic," he mumbles, "I think 'm gonna be sick in a minute."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

Remington puts the laptop down. "Come on, come to the bathroom," he says, helping his husband off the couch. "Maybe you'll feel better after being sick."

"Fuckin' hope so."

In the bathroom, Andy kneels against the toilet as Remington plays with his hair, leaning over it and puking. Remington looks away.

"Kill me now," Andy says dryly, "fuck." He lurches again, heaving loudly.

Remington sits next to him in bed after he's thrown up, looking through houses for sale and reading the descriptions quietly to Andy, who's face down in the pillow.

After a while of lying on the bed and listening to Remington talk, Andy does start feeling a bit better, much to his relief. He reminds the boy to have something for lunch, though doesn't have anything himself, worried it'll upset his stomach.

Remington knows he's missed another session with Abigail but he doesn't answer the phone when she calls because he doesn't want to talk to her, and decides he can just deal with it later, whenever later may be.

The next day, the two go for a walk, Andy's migraine finally subsiding, and sit underneath a tree.

"It's funny," Remington begins, looking up at the sky. "How different things would be if I'd never gone to that one bar and met Holly."

Andy hums. "Maybe you'd be living in a different house with a different man."

"Maybe I never came out and I was unhappily with a woman."

"You might be on tour right now," Andy says, "and perhaps our tour together would've been nothing more than a career booster for you and your brothers."

Remington smiles. "I might never have fallen in love. I could be dead. Who knows?"

"Well I, for one, am glad you're not dead." He leans back against the tree. "And I am also glad that we got the chance to fall in love because you're the best thing about being alive."

"Never agreed to anything more."

"Even if we do have silly fights sometimes."

"Even then," Remington agrees, "'cause we always get through them and we're always okay."

"We are."

The boy hums.