パン 🥖 JJBA oneshots!

💫 | [avpol] french toast

Polnareff wakes up with a splitting headache.

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Character(s): Jean Pierre Polnareff, Muhammad Avdol, Iggy

Relationship(s): Jean Pierre Polnareff/Muhammad Avdol, them & Iggy

Tags & warnings: domestic fluff, hurt/comfort, comfort no hurt, snifflefic, Stands

Completed: 20/5/20

Word count: 1616

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fluffy & domestic avpol, as requested by twins101!! ☺️💗💗

this was sooooo fun to write, honestly i was just grinning the whole time at how cute these babies are 😌😌😌 i hope you enjoy!! 💓

fyi, 37°C / 98.6°F is the normal human body temperature.

also, isn't "french toast" just the perfect ship name for them??? 😭😭👌

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"Jean. Hey, Jean. Wake up."

Polnareff cracked his eyes open, instantly groaning at how bright the bedroom was. It didn't help that his head was throbbing like crazy. He attempted to turn away from the window, but a warm pair of hands stopped him:

"C'mon, sleepyhead. Wake up."

"Mmhhh...?" The silver-haired man mumbled, before immediately cringing at how much his throat hurt. "'Mm tired. Lemme sleep."

"It's already nine." As his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, Polnareff could make out a chuckling Avdol. He frowned as he finally realized what his husband was wearing: jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, a leather jacket, and a thick woolen scarf to top it off. When Avdol leaned down to plant a kiss on his forehead, he caught a whiff of cologne as well.

"Are you goin sumnwhr?" Polnareff slurred, still not fully awake. His husband replied, glancing at the clock on their bedside table:

"We're taking Iggy to the vet today, remember? The appointment is at 9:30, so you'd better get up now or we'll be late."

Polnareff contemplated it, but the ache in his head had already spread throughout his entire body. He really didn't feel like dealing with any rowdy dogs or condescending vets today. Clearing his throat, he mumbled:

"I think I'll pass."

"Uh, no you won't." A pair of strong arms snuck around him, and he was hauled into a sitting position. Polnareff wasn't sure if it was the sleepiness or the fatigue, but out of startled annoyance he pushed Avdol away. Maybe a teeny tiny bit too harshly.

"Woah! Jean, what the heck?" The dark-haired man complained, struggling a little to regain his balance on the edge of the bed. A pang of guilt hit him, and Polnareff reached out to grab his husband — but as soon as he attempted to do so, his head started to spin and he found himself collapsing forward, barely able to stop himself from faceplanting into Avdol's chest. Oh, man. I'm really not feeling well today.

"Are you okay?" He heard his husband's worried question, albeit a little muffled since his head was currently stuck in between two heavenly pecs. He really wouldn't mind dozing off in here... but it was over all too soon, because Avdol quickly laid him back down onto the bed. Polnareff let out something between a growl and a moan when he felt his husband's hand on his forehead: