Gabi and Nico Stuff

——

The hotel room felt too bright, even with the curtains half closed.

Nico sat on the edge of the bed, one eye covered loosely with a cooling pad the doctor had given him. The irritation had faded a little, but the lingering sting and exhaustion made everything feel heavier sounds duller, movements slower, thoughts wrapped in cotton.

A soft knock broke the quiet. He opened the door slowly, squinting against the hallway lights.

Gabriel stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, holding a small pharmacy bag and a takeaway container pressed carefully against his chest.

“Hi,” Gabi said, voice quieter than usual. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be sleeping.”

“Not yet,” Nico said, stepping aside. “Come in.”

Gabi entered gently, like he didn’t want to disturb anything. He set the bags down and glanced at Nico, clearly trying to hide how worried he looked.

“You scared everyone today,” he admitted. Nico gave a faint smile. “Wasn’t exactly part of the plan.”

Gabi opened the pharmacy bag. “Eye drops. The exact ones they told me. And painkillers. And… food. Because I figured you wouldn’t go downstairs.”

He hesitated before adding, “You don’t look like you should be around people right now.”

Nico smiled.

“Sit,” Gabi said softly, gesturing toward the bed again.

There was something strangely comforting about letting someone else take care of him. Nico sat, shoulders slumping as fatigue caught up with him.

Gabi moved closer, careful and deliberate. “Okay… tilt your head back.”

The eye drops were cool when they landed, and Nico exhaled slowly, tension draining from his face.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Nico murmured. “Thanks.”

They ate slowly, sitting side by side. Gabriel talked quietly — about testing, about small mistakes he’d made earlier in the week, about anything that filled the silence without demanding too much energy from Nico.

At some point Nico stopped responding with full sentences, just small hums or half-smiles.

Gabriel noticed. “You should lie down,” he suggested gently.

Nico shifted, leaning back against the headboard instead. “Just… give me a minute.”

Gabi nodded, sitting beside him, unsure whether to stay or go. He didn’t want Nico to feel alone, but he also didn’t want to overstep.

The room grew quiet again.

Without really meaning to, Nico leaned sideways.

At first Gabi thought he was just adjusting his position until he felt the weight settle against his shoulder.

He froze.

Nico’s breathing slowed, steady and heavy with exhaustion. His head rested against Gabriel’s collarbone, warm and trusting, one hand loosely curled against his side like he’d simply run out of energy mid-movement.

Gabi stared at the wall, completely unsure what to do.

Okay. Okay. Don’t panic, he told himself.

He shifted slightly, worried he might wake him — but Nico only moved closer, instinctively seeking comfort, and suddenly Gabi found himself holding very still.

His heart beat faster, it all felt a little uncomfortable. He didn’t know Nico that well yet.

Seeing him like this tired, vulnerable, trusting enough to fall asleep on him was very new. But at the same time it felt right and familiar, like they knew each other for years. And until about 10 minutes ago he wasn’t even sure Nico liked him that much.

Carefully, hesitantly, he lifted one arm and rested it around Nico’s shoulders.

“Uh… okay,” he whispered, Nico didn’t move.

Outside, faint city sounds filtered through the windows, but inside the room everything felt soft and still.

Gabriel stayed frozen for several minutes, unsure if he should wake him, gently move away, or just… accept it.

Eventually he let himself relax slightly, leaning back against the headboard.

He watched Nico’s face soften in sleep — the usual tension gone, replaced with something peaceful.

“You really scared me today,” Gabriel murmured quietly.Nico didn’t hear him.

Gabriel adjusted the blanket with one hand, pulling it up carefully so he wouldn’t wake him. His movements were cautious, almost reverent.

He felt a little trapped, a little awkward his arm starting to go numb but he didn’t move.

Because despite the uncertainty, despite not knowing if this crossed some invisible line, he understood one thing clearly: Nico felt safe enough to sleep.

And that mattered more than his discomfort.