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On sunny summer days, Minnie loves nothing more than stretching out in the grass to bask for hours. Sometimes Tae joins him, a welcome heat source with his big warm hands running over his belly scales, caressing the delicate little scales splashed across his cheekbones just under his eyes, and all the terribly soft skin in between. It helps when Tae’s there, as Minnie’s always been bad about overworking himself, and Tae’s presence next to him serves as an invaluable reminder to actually engage in the self-care Minnie needs.
But Tae doesn’t truly realize just how much Minnie needs that help until the first winter they’re together.
Like most ophidians, Minnie’s pretty good about eating big meals sporadically and carrying on for quite a while between them, so Tae’s learned not to get too worked up when Minnie skips a few here and there, so long as he sits them down every few days with a hearty dinner. Tae’s also gotten around to upgrading Minnie’s constant bulk purchases of instant hot packs to battery-powered heaters, tucked into pockets he’s sewn into nearly all of Minnie’s clothes.
Tae’s pretty sure he’s prepared for the cold season, so he’s totally stumped as to why Minnie looks more and more haggard as the months drag on, and why it seems worse when there’s a storm that lasts a few days or if they have a week of overcast weather. He doesn’t get it - until he has to rush to the emergency room one afternoon because one of Minnie’s students calls the emergency contact on Minnie’s phone to let him know that Minnie broke his wrist teaching floorwork in the studio that day.
Leaning over Minnie’s bed in the ER, Tae winces at the copy of the radiographs the medical staff left for them after they came to talk everything over with the both of them. Minnie’s asleep now, pain meds on board, as Tae runs his hands soothingly along Minnie’s dorsal paraspinal tracts, tracing the two broad, tapering lines of scales running parallel to his spine.
Minnie’s groggy for what seems like ages, even after he’s discharged and they’re sent home. Logically, Tae knows that he’ll take longer to process all the drugs, especially now that it’s winter and Minnie’s metabolic rate has dropped with the temperature. But it’s still hard to see him curled up, so tiny and frail-looking in their bed, and he can’t help but fret, bundling his feet in fuzzy socks, continuously checking the heated blanket, and changing out the hot water bottles he’s nestled along his tummy.
He only slips out of the apartment when he’s sure Minnie’s fully asleep.
Minnie stopped trying to get his addled brain to keep track of the days within hours of coming home from the ER. It’s just asking too much of him when he’s so cold and sluggish, wrist still throbbing a bit in spite of receiving as many pain meds as was safe for his current energetic state. So he gives in and lets Tae baby him, just relishing for once the feeling of being completely taken care of. And he naps.
Finally, after what he’ll later learn is five whole days of wandering in and out of a stuporous sleep, Minnie wakes up at a reasonable hour of morning, feeling lucid enough to drag himself out of bed. He’s pretty sure that these aren’t the clothes he came home in - he definitely wasn’t teaching at the studio wearing this old ratty shirt of Tae’s, one Tae knows Minnie thinks is the most comfortable because he always reaches for it when everything is itchy and uncomfortable in the last few days before a shed. He also feels suspiciously clean, and he notes the damp hand towel drying on the windowsill. His heart aches, surrounded by the quiet but undeniable evidence of Tae’s love.
Tae himself, however, is nowhere to be found, so on legs stiff from so many days of disuse, Minnie wanders out into the living room, rubbing his eyes. Two steps in, he finally lifts his droopy head, which feels like a gargantuan effort, but when he does he stops short.
Tae is sitting on the couch, an enormous contraption of wires set up behind it. Minnie still feels so, so slow, and he’s horribly confused as Tae lifts his head to meet his eyes, exhausted and looking stern. That gaze alone stirs a nauseating guilt in Minnie’s gut, but as if he’s reading Minnie’s inner monologue, Tae softens at his downcast gaze and sets his laptop down on the coffee table, patting the cushions, so Minnie crawls up next to him and curls his head onto Tae’s lap. It’s quiet for a bit, just Minnie absentmindedly flicking his tongue out every now and then, lightly grazing Tae’s thigh to take in his scent - a constant comfort to him. He’s nearly asleep again when he feels Tae’s long fingers gently turning his head towards the still-glowing laptop screen.
There are more than twenty different tabs open in the browser window, all about metabolic bone disease in reptiles, and Minnie braces himself for the conversation that’s coming. “I talked to the vet at the ER,” Tae says quietly from somewhere above him, and Minnie can’t quite bring himself to look at what must be an expression of disappointment on Tae’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t know you needed UVB exposure to have enough vitamin D to keep your bones from, like, melting.”
Minnie winces at how upset Tae sounds. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “In the winters, I usually make sure I spend some time at a tanning salon, or at least take a walk with my face and hands out and the rest of me bundled in hot packs once or twice a week.” He swallows, leaving out the part where that’s technically not enough exposure either, but a beat later thinks that Tae probably knows anyway given how much research he’s apparently been doing while Minnie was under. Tae’s hands are warm and gentle along the soft, scaleless patch at Minnie’s nape, between where his hair ends and his scales begin. “I just. With all the overtime I’ve been taking on at the studio lately, and then the upcoming debut of my own original choreo for the first time I guess I haven’t been keeping up.”
Minnie hears Tae’s reaction before he sees it - a telltale long breath. “Jiminie,” Tae starts, in a heartbreaking tone, but Minnie cuts him off as he rushes to sit up, woozy and with quite a bit of effort given he’s clumsily trying not to bear weight on his wrist, encased in a cast.
“I know, Tae,” he blurts apologetically. “I have to take care of myself, I know - you tell me all the time. And I’m trying, I swear. I’m just-” Minnie pulls at his own hair frustratedly. “I’m not good at it, and I know I worry you. I know you’re constantly fretting about me, and that’s not fair because I should be able to look after myself better, but after so many years of ignoring things, it’s so easy to forget.”
He sucks in a breath, steeling himself for the inevitable. They’d only just moved in together a handful of weeks together, finding a lovely apartment and they’re still fixing it up with all the little touches that make it feel like home - their home. But he should have known to grow so attached, so hopeful.
“I get it, if this is too much,” Minnie finally whispers, eyes fixed on his own lap and unable to meet Tae’s. “You deserve someone who isn’t so high maintenance and who can handle thei-”
Tae cuts him off with a kiss, pressing into him insistently and tenderly all at the same time. He doesn’t pull away until Minnie feels just a little bit of the tension in his neck seep away, and when he does, he looks at Minnie with such softness that Minnie has to look away again. But Tae pushes back in for another chaste peck. “Jiminie,” he breathes. “Stop. Is that what you’re really worried about?”
Minnie can tell Tae has to physically restrain from cooing as the tip of his tongue pokes out; a nervous habit he can’t seem to break. “I’m not leaving you,” Tae continues. “I love you. And I’ve known non-hybrid humans far fussier than you. Even dated some,” he says with a grimace.
This, at least, makes Minnie let out a tiny giggle, and Tae looks relieved at that. “This isn’t about you being high maintenance, Jiminie. This is what your body needs, and I love all of you, so we’re gonna figure this out, okay? I love you and I want you to be healthy and happy.”
Minnie’s blinking back tears at this point, as Tae feathers tiny kisses at the little constellation scales scattered below his eyes, but then he catches sight of the ridiculous mess behind the couch again, over Tae’s shoulder. Tae follows his gaze, understanding, and then gestures for Minnie to stand up.
Tae leads him around the back of the couch, and dimly, Minnie remembers that they had mused on what to put in that space when they first moved in, how they hadn’t come up with any ideas that seemed to fit that odd gap behind the couch. But now, Tae’s filled it with something , and at last, with Tae grasping his cold, little hands, Minnie’s drugged-up brain catches up when he sees the massage table, the ground beneath it littered with empty lightbulb boxes.
“Tae,” he breathes.
Tae just smiles at him, all boxy grin and soft cheeks, stunningly beautiful even with the dark circles under his eyes. “I just thought it would be easier if you were able to get what you needed at home,” Tae says, as if he hasn’t just shifted Minnie’s entire world on his axis.
Tae’s built him a basking table right in their living room - a padded treatment table (where did he even get that?), complete with a heated mat covered by a soft blanket, and at least 10 lamps rigged around it on an overhanging metal frame. All of them, judging by the packaging littered around the floor, are equipped with UVB bulbs.
Minnie can hardly breathe because he’s so touched (well, his low oxygen requirement as a snake hybrid notwithstanding). So when Tae warns, “At least thirty minutes a day,” he can only nod. “Doc said. She’s double boarded in human ortho AND reptile medicine so she knows her shit. Says you gotta catch up on the deficit.”
It takes everything in Minnie to nod again, overwhelmed and unable to speak, instead of breaking down right there.
As quickly as possible, they settle into a new routine, making sure that Minnie gets his half hour in each night, but it’s just so hard for him to sit still for that long when he’s got such huge deadlines on the horizon. Tae knows, so he tries his best to make it fun - make it a Self-Care Couples’ Activity™ with ice cream and their favorite shows. “It’s literally the equivalent of just one episode of Yuuri!!! On Ice, Jiminie,” he coaxes. “You can spare this for yourself once a day.” And so Minnie goes along, even if reluctantly some nights, and tells himself he’s doing better.
Until the week before Minnie’s showcase, when suddenly he’s not. They’re not.
It’s their first big fight. Minnie is frazzled, running on three hours of sleep and an unholy amount of caffeine, especially for a poikilothermic creature like himself, and he knows he’s being too short-tempered but he’s so exhausted that reigning it in is just beyond him.
Tae is blocking the door to their bedroom.
“Come on, Tae,” Minnie grumbles. “I need to shower and change before I finish sketching up formations.”
But Tae just stares back at him, resolute. “Not a chance, Jimin.”
Minnie can’t remember the last time Tae called him something other than an affectionate variation of Jiminie or Jimin-ah and it just adds fuel to the ugly thing churning in his guts. “Tae,” he grits out. “I’m serious.”
“And so I am,” Tae shoots back, deadly calm. “Your wrist is barely healed and you need it to be for your performance. And it won’t be healed by then if you don’t get on that table every night.”
“One night isn’t going to make or break me,” Minnie snaps.
“Oh really?” Tae retorts, finally losing a touch of his composure. He’s shirtless, having just showered himself, and Minnie can see the red blooming across his collarbones, giving away just how worked up he is. “It’s just one night? This isn’t gonna turn into a few nights, and then a week, and then all of a sudden a month’s gone by?”
Minnie opens his mouth to fire back but there’s nothing he can say to that because Tae is right, and that’s the worst part of it all. That Tae, whom he’s been dating for less than a year, lovely Tae who adores him something too big, too fierce, Tae with whom he’s just started building a life, knows him terrifyingly well and sees right to the core of him - how when there’s work to be done, his laser focus blurs all the days together, and the first details to erode away are those that he needs to take care of himself.
So all Minnie can do is just press his lips back together, repress the hiss rising in the back of his throat, and try to storm past Tae into the bedroom, but he’s suddenly lifted off his feet.
Now he really does hiss, flailing wildly, in disbelief that Tae would actually just manhandle him this way and use his size to his advantage. If he were less bewildered he’d probably feel a bit betrayed; as he is now, he snarls “PUT ME DOWN.” But Tae, undeterred, silently crosses the room with two long strides and flicks the master switch for the power strip running along the back of the couch, all the bulbs blazing to life. Then, unceremoniously, he tosses Minnie on the table.
Minnie scrambles to try and get up but before he can, Tae’s pinning him with his broad torso.
Minnie seethes . “Are you fucking kidding me right now, Tae?” Silence. “Tae. Let me up.”
Tae says nothing, just lays his whole big body on Minnie, at an awkward angle to keep him on the table while still making sure his skin is exposed to the light. Minnie shoves at his shoulder incredulously, indignantly gasping “This is ridiculous! TAE!” But Tae doesn’t budge.
And Minnie’s strong, sure, but he’s so so tired, and Tae is just big and heavy on top of him. So finally he just gives up, resorting to just letting Tae have his way. He has no idea how long he lays there, simmering in an exhaustion-hazy rage that Tae would do this to him, would use their size difference to his advantage when he KNOWS he has lighting cues he needs to finish working through.
He’s angry enough to quash the quiet voice in the back of his mind that whispers that Tae is right, and more importantly, that Tae is fighting for what’s right because he loves him.
Minnie must have been more tired than he thought, because the next thing he registers is Tae shaking him awake, lamps now all switched off. The clock on the cable box reads some blasphemous hour of the morning. Too fuzzy and upset to continue the fight, Minnie stumbles after Tae into the bedroom and just collapses into bed without a shower. They sleep facing opposite sides of the bed for the rest of the night, Minnie not curling around Tae as they always do. It feels wrong, and Minnie begrudgingly admits to himself that he misses their nightly cuddles, but manages to convince himself it’s only because he really likes Tae’s warmth.
When Minnie’s 6am alarm goes off, he rolls over, instinctively seeking out the body heat he’s been spoiled with for so many months, forgetting to be upset. But the bed is surprisingly empty - Tae is never up before him. Groggily lifting his head off the pillow, Minnie can see the bathroom light is already on. He pushes to his feet, groaning, to brush his teeth, but the instant the door opens he freezes.
Tae’s bent over, rummaging through the cabinet under the sink. He’s just knocked a few bottles over so he hasn’t heard Minnie come in over the clatter. And his entire back is an angry shade of red. Minnie can already see some patches of skin peeling away.
But Tae’s human. This isn’t shed - it’s sunburn, and it’s bad. Just as Minnie finishes processing this, Tae resurfaces with a bottle of aloe, turning around and catching the horror-stricken look on Minnie’s face.
Neither of them say a word when Minnie bursts into silent tears. Tae lets Minnie lead him back to bed, lets Minnie take the bottle of aloe out of his hands. Lies down on his belly while Minnie sends some texts to cancel the morning rehearsal, and Tae pointedly does not comment on the fact that Minnie is willing to immediately cancel an entire rehearsal the week before the show for Tae, but still won’t give himself a mere half hour each night.
Tae just breathes steadily, quiet as Minnie rubs aloe into every centimeter of burned skin, touch impossibly gentle. Minnie knows he’s trying not to wince even though it must throb tremendously, but he’s sure Tae can probably feel the fat droplets rolling off Minnie’s cheeks and down onto his back.
Finally, after forty-five minutes. Minnie’s gotten every angry red stretch of skin with two layers of aloe. Tentatively, Tae cranes his neck to look at Minnie’s face, not rolling over for fear of rubbing the aloe off his back, and Minnie knows his whole face is probably shiny with the constant flow of tears as Tae reaches out to touch his cheek.
Minnie only cries harder. “I really don’t deserve you, Tae,” he starts, as Tae tries to shush him. “I don’t!” he protests, “I don’t I don’t I don’t - all I do is to make you worry and push back when you try to take care of me, to the point that you get literally hurt doing it, and-”
Minnie cuts off to help Tae as he begins to sit up gingerly, who winces at his skin’s response to the motion. Finally he’s upright, and he’s brushing the tears from Minnie’s cheek as Minnie hiccups. “Hey,” he says softly. “I knew what I was getting into. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for just picking you up like that - I just panicked but I shouldn’t have done that against your will-”
“Please stop apologizing to me right now,” Minnie begs. “Please. I’m the last person on Earth you should be apologizing to right now.”
Tae shakes his head. “Jiminie, no. It’s true that I wish you took better care of yourself, but I know you’re trying. You’re just exhausted and grumpy and stressed with the show coming up. But you didn’t do this to me - I made the choice myself. We just shouldn’t have fallen asleep on the table like that.”
Tae pulls Minnie into his blessedly-unburnt chest, sighing. “The point is, I chose this. I chose to love you, and I still do. I love you in the summer when it’s warm and sunny, but I love you in the winter when there’s so much more to think about too. I love you when you're happy and I love you when you’re running on empty. I love all of your human traits and every bit of the snake in you too. It’s not about deserving, Jiminie. I just love you. Just let me love you, alright?”
Minnie’s not sure how he’s ever going to stop bawling at this point, but Tae just rocks them back and forth with miniscule movements so as not to upset the blistering skin on his back. Minnie loses track of time, as he almost always does in Tae’s arms, but finally he lets out a shuddering breath, feeling Tae’s warmth seep through his clothes, and he can feel himself calming, slowly but surely. “Okay,” he whispers, almost more to himself before he repeats a little louder, “Okay.”
They’re both surprised by the sudden twin growling of their bellies, and in spite of himself, Minnie finds himself giggling along with Tae.
“Been a few days since a good meal, huh?” Tae guesses. Minnie nods in response as Tae’s face grows hopeful. “Let’s make some pancakes?” he asks, knowing they’re a shared favorite.
Minnie really should be in the studio by this point, but he doesn’t hesitate in nodding anyway. “Buttermilk banana chocolate chip pancakes?” he offers, sniffling a bit. Tae cheers.
That night, after a long afternoon and evening of tech rehearsals, Minnie comes home and lays down on the basking table without protest. Tae’s on the couch, engrossed in some new nature documentary series, and from here, Minnie can run a hand through Tae’s messy hair.
He never skips a basking again that winter. And Tae’s right there with him, holding his hand, safely beyond the halo of light that envelops the table.