all credits to @/thugpugs4lrh on tumblr!!
Summary: Five times you knew Chris better than himself, and the one time you didn't<3
Pairing: Chris x feminine reader
Warnings: Mentions of drinking/hangover (y'all i know he's techinally not of legal drinking age in the USA. this is fiction)
Word Count: 4.3k
A/N: I genuinely need this man in my life so bad actually. Anyways, enjoy some tooth rotting fluff. XOXO<3
1
"Bruh," Chris groaned, leaning his head back against the couch cushions. "I feel like shit and I don't even know why."
You looked up from your phone, eyeing your boyfriend up and down. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know," he whined, rolling off the couch dramatically. "My head hurts and I'm tired."
You sat up from the gray couch, standing over Chris, who was sprawled on the floor, pouting and whining. You definitely felt bad for him, but at the same time, you knew Chris tended to over dramatize the smallest, most random things. "Do you have a fever?"
Chris shook his head, rolling from his back to his stomach, but not getting off the floor. "I don't feel sick, but I just feel like horse shit and I don't know why."
You observed him for a moment, before an idea dawned on you. Having ADHD, Chris tended to forget to eat and drink, so hyperfixated on something or too many thoughts in his head blocking the reminders to fuel his body. He was medicated for it, which both helped and hurt. Sometimes, he would be able to focus enough to remember his meals, but other times, the meds would dissipate his hunger cues. "When was the last time you had something to eat or drink?"
"Hmmm," Chris's blue eyes looked thoughtful for a moment before he shrugged. "Dunno. Which is weird because I've usually had like, six Pepsis by now, but we're out and Matt didn't go to the grocery store yesterday, so...I don't know."
You shook your head with a soft chuckle, helping your boyfriend up off the floor. "I think that might be the problem, sweetheart. Is there something you want to eat?"
"Do we have chicken nuggets?" Chris asked you, picking up one of the stim toys he had left on the floor last night as he followed you into the kitchen. "That reminds me, isn't it weird that chickens can't fly? Like...are they even real birds?" he asked you.
"I dunno, hun. Google it." You told him gently, pulling the bag of chicken nuggets out of the freezer."
"Do you think chickens are sad that they can't fly? Like do they look at cardinals and go 'Damn, why can he fly but not me'?" he hummed, flicking at the toy.
Chris was wrapped up in his own little world as you made his lunch. He didn't even get the chance to Google his chicken question before he was distracted by a Spotify notification, which led to him loudly singing a Lil Skies song, dancing around the kitchen. As much as you hated how difficult ADHD could be for him, Chris had one of the best personalities you had ever met; he was bubbly and outgoing, always the life of the party and always willing to cheer you up. You quickly plated his nuggets, along with some other random foods that you knew he would love, before sliding the plate across the island too.
"See if that makes you feel better." You explained with a soft smile.
You watched as Chris downed the food, along with a Gatorade you had given him, only to see a smile dawn on his face.
