Archive of Our Own ^beta

Gyro barely noticed when the bird sitting across from him abruptly stood, a hand at his head. He didn’t look up as Mads walked around the table, making his way to the elevator and stepping inside. Figuring he was just going to the bathroom or something, Gyro let him go. 

The clock on the wall read just past three in the afternoon, and Gyro so far was pleased with the projects he’d been able to finish that day. There was just one left to fill, and he was making great time. 

Well, Mads’ time away turned into five minutes, then ten, then thirty, then an hour, then two hours… Two and a half hours later, once Gyro was just finishing up his new invention, he glanced at the clock again and realized that Mads still wasn’t back. 

The inventor glanced at Little Helper, confused. “Where’d he go? I thought he was going to the bathroom or something.” 

The little robot shrugged, as much as he could when he had a bar of metal for shoulders. Gyro stood, giving a long and relaxing stretch, before making his way to the elevator with Helper on his heels. 

The house above appeared empty as Gyro stepped out, looking around the vacant rooms for any sign of his boyfriend. “...Mads? Where’d you go?” Unable to find him, Gyro made his way upstairs, trailing his hand on the railing. “Mads!” 

The door to their bedroom was shut, and the inventor sighed. Mads usually only retreated to their bedroom when something was wrong, usually with a laptop for a movie and a ridiculous amount of muffins in tow. Trying to recall anything that Mads might be upset about, he slowly pushed the door open. “Mads?” He asked quietly. 

A groan came from the lump of pillows that Gyro could just make out on the bed. “Close the door,” the Mad Ducktor grumbled. The lump didn’t move. 

Gyro stepped inside and shut the door just after Helper entered. He reached for the light switch. “Why is it so dark in here? What’s up?” 

Light flooded the room, and Mads shifted as quickly as possible, pulling his pillow from under his head and jamming it on top. “Turn the light off!” He squawked. “And ssshhhhhh.” 

Gyro winced, flicking the light off before approaching the bed. “Oh. Headache?” 

Mads slowly returned his pillow to its place underneath his temple, then curled farther in on himself, pulling the blanket tight around him. “Started this morning. Thought I could ignore it. It got worse.” He grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Did you take anything for it?” Gyro asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

“It didn’t feel as bad then,” Mads pointed out.

“Mm hm. Have you taken anything now?” 

“No. Moving hurts.” He said everything as quickly as possible, as if he had to summon his thoughts and then compress them down into a tiny package in order to get them out. Gyro could hardly separate the words from each other.

The inventor sighed, running a hand down his face. Mads hardly ever just took medicine himself, it usually required someone handing him a pill and telling him where the nearest available drinking water was. Gyro had no idea why his alter ego seemed to dislike taking pain medication, and there had even been a few times when the inventor suggested it and Mads appeared as if it hadn’t occurred to him.

“Let me go get you some ibuprofen.” Gyro said, standing. “How’s your stomach? Can you eat anything?”

“Maybe.”

There was some ibuprofen in the bathroom attached to their bedroom, but Gyro had to go back downstairs to make Mads some tea to help his stomach settle with the medicine. 

Mads sat himself up just high enough to drink and stayed that way for a moment, swaying a little. He looked like he was about to pass out, his eyes squinting, his eyebrows raised. Gyro helped him get some tea and medicine in him before Mads lowered himself back down to the bed with a whimper. Gyro set the cup down on the nightstand, then laid down next to him. “I assume you-”

The instant Gyro was laying down Mads moved as close as he could to him, wrapping his arms and legs around Gyro in a second. Their chests pressed together, Mads buried his beak in the feathers of Gyro’s neck. Little Helper took up a place on the pillow above their heads.

Gyro smiled faintly, putting an arm around his alter ego and pulling him even closer. “Is there anything else you need?”

“You,” Mads whispered. 

Gyro chuckled, running a soothing hand down Mads’ back. He could feel Mads’ fist tightening in Gyro’s shirt, his whole body tense and braced with pain. After a minute or two, the inventor continued running a hand down the Mad Ducktor’s spine. “Hey. It’s not going to get better if you’re wound as tight as a spring.” 

“It hurts,” Mads whined, making no effort to relax.

Gyro took a long, slow breath, trying to set an example for his alter ego. “I know. But it’ll hurt a little less if you relax.”

Mads copied Gyro’s breath, and the inventor began gently rubbing at Mads’ shoulder blades, trying to relieve the tension. It worked a little, and he also felt Mads’ grip on his shirt loosen. “There, that might feel better.” 

The former villain didn’t answer, just nuzzled his beak closer against Gyro, his breath coming out in a whine.

In most situations like this, when Mads had his guard down and was hurting- whether physically or emotionally- Gyro would try to talk to him, to try and encourage him or help him through whatever it was. But Mads usually liked it as quiet as possible when he had a headache, so Gyro knew talking would help with nothing. 

It left him feeling  a little stuck, and he stared absently at the wall for a moment.

“Canyoupreenme?” Gyro was startled back to reality by Mads talking even faster than before, and this time Gyro had to run the sound through his head a few times before he could figure out what Mads had said. 

The inventor smiled. Usually Mads would get some light teasing for asking, but this time Gyro knew his alter ego really didn’t want to hear it. “Sure,” he propped himself up a little, leaning closer to softly run the tip of his beak through the feathers on Mads’ neck. 

He gave each small feather its own moment of attention, cleaning out anything that might’ve been caught in it, ranging from loose feathers to the small fleck of dandruff he found. Mads’ feathers didn’t actually need cleaning, but it gave him a better task. 

After a few minutes his left hand- which had been resting under Mads’ shoulder- traveled upwards to gently rub at Mads’ scalp. He felt the Mad Ducktor’s neck arch to give Gyro’s beak more room, while simultaneously leaning into Gyro’s gentle hand. 

Gyro grinned, but knew not to say anything. 

After Gyro had preened as much of Mads neck as he could reach he laid back down, his hand staying on the former villain’s scalp. Mads was still clearly in pain, but he felt much more relaxed. 

Gyro took another long, deep breath, his spare hand resting on Mads’ side, moving as close to his alter ego as he could possibly get. He smiled faintly as Mads tried to copy his breathing again, and he squeezed Mads' limp body tight.

—

Mads hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and it’d taken him quite a while to do so. But when he opened his eyes again the room around him was even darker than before, and the pain in his head had lessened to a quiet ache that would no doubt fade soon. 

Gyro’s sleeping face was only inches from Mads’, and it made the former villain grin. He leaned forward and tapped his beak against Gyro’s, before rolling onto his side and staring up at the ceiling. Gyro’s arms were still wrapped around him, and Mads stayed as close to his boyfriend as he could. 

Mads let out a breath, thinking. There was a possibility that Gyro would just sleep through the night, but the inventor would most likely wake up hungry in a few minutes. 

Finally an idea hit him, and Mads grinned. He rolled back over so he was facing Gyro, sliding a hand into Gyro’s vest pocket and his smile growing as he felt Gyro’s phone. In an instant Mads pulled it out and shifted onto his stomach, his shoulder against Gyro’s chest as he propped himself up on his elbows, turning on Gyro’s phone. 

Gyro stirred almost twenty minutes later, Mads had been reduced to scrolling through memes on his phone. When he felt Gyro shifting next to him he looked up, smiling. 

The inventor’s eyes fluttered open as Mads leaned down to kiss his beak. “Mornin’ sunshine.” He said quietly. 

Gyro smiled faintly, his eyes still half-closed. “You feeling better?”

Mads kissed him again. “Yes, thanks to you. The food is on its way, it should be here any minute now.”

“Food?” Gyro asked, still half asleep. He rolled slightly onto his side, lifting his hand from Mads’ back to rub at his eye. 

“I ordered some, it’ll be here soon.” Mads told him, laying back down. “Here’s your phone.” 

Gyro slid his phone back into his pocket as Mads cuddled back against him, wrapping his arms around him and nuzzling into his chest. Gyro grinned, kissing Mads’ forehead before hugging him back tightly. 

The doorbell rang a few minutes later and Mads extracted himself from Gyro in a flurry of excited movements. “Wait right here!” He told Gyro, already sliding out of bed in the time it took Gyro to sit up.

“Mads- what are you-”

But Mads was already dashing down the stairs, and dashing back up only thirty seconds later, holding a plastic bag with two to-go boxes in it. Gyro was sitting up against the headboard as Mads came in, and Little Helper was standing on the pillow next to him.

“Mads what- is that Korean food?” 

“Your favorite!” Mads told him happily, sitting back down on the bed. “I thought we could maybe hang out up here and eat and then maybe go watch a movie or something?”

“Your head is feeling better?” Gyro asked, taking the bag from him. He was already eagerly digging through its contents. “I wouldn’t want to-” 

“It’s fine darling, thanks to you.” Mads leaned over and kissed him a third time. “Almost gone, it should be better in a while. I just ran up and down the stairs and nothing changed.”

“If you’re sure… You said that this morni-” 

“Ah bah bah bah bah, I’ll be fine. So. Dinner and a movie?” 

Gyro grinned, he’d already pulled out one of the boxes and opened it. “Dinner and a movie. Thanks.” 

Mads crawled across the bed and nestled in next to him, pulling out one of the plastic forks since he was terrible with chopsticks. “Anything for you, sunshine. What do you want to watch?”