Male Insomnia

[HoneyBunny]

He can’t sleep, so neither can you.

 

All night he’s been tossing and turning, sniffling and blowing his nose, trying to breathe through his nose but ultimately failing. After a while his breathing evens out, labored sniffles soon replaced by stuffy snores, but it isn’t before long that he wakes himself up with a sputtering cough.

 

When the coughing doesn’t stop, you turn on the bedside lamp and get out of bed, fetching a glass of water from the bathroom sink.

 

“You okay?” you ask in a gentle voice while he greedily gulps down the water.

 

“I can’t breathe through my nose at all, and my throat is super dry from breathing through my mouth,” he says after he has caught his breath. “Sorry for waking you up.”

 

You give him a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes full of worry. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I just wish I could help you.” You reach out to brush a messy strand of hair from his forehead. “Can I get you anything? A cup of tea for your throat, maybe?”

 

He finishes his glass of water and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “I’m okay. Just go back to sleep.”

 

You want to tell him that you can’t go to sleep with all the noises he’s making, but instead you just nod, get back under the covers and turn off the light.

 

It’s quiet for a while, and you feel relieved because it sounds like he’s actually fallen asleep this time. You are on your way to drifting off as well when a sudden loud noise jerks you awake again. It takes you a moment to orient yourself, not quite sure what the noise was, but then it happens again: he sneezes, the sound seemingly muffled by his pillow, but still loud enough to startle you.

 

You hear him fumbling with the tissue box on his nightstand in the dark. The noises he makes while trying to blow his nose are pathetic, barely any air making its way through his nostrils, and the gurgling sound of snot that just won’t move.

 

“Bless you,” you whisper, but he probably can’t even hear you over his hitching breaths building up to another sneeze.

 

Everything in you just wants to pull your blanket over your head and finally, finally fall asleep, but you know that won’t happen until he either gets some cold meds in him or you snap and end up smothering him with his pillow. You briefly consider the latter option, but ultimately decide that it’s just the exhaustion making you irritable and that the former option is all-around preferable.

 

“Hey.” You lightly squeeze his shoulder to get his attention before pushing back your blanket and getting out of bed. “I’ll go see if we have any cold meds.”

 

“Thank you, baby. Sorry for making you get out of bed.” He grabs your hand and looks at you with guilt in his eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Anything, if it helps you feel better.”

 

When you open the medicine cabinet, you find it almost empty, save for a box of vitamin supplements, motion sickness pills and a half-empty bottle of NyQuil that expired almost a year ago. Neither of you get sick very often, and it shows in the range of supplies you keep stocked in your bathroom.

 

You return to the bedroom empty-handed. “I checked the medicine cabinet - there’s nothing. I’m sorry, honey…”

 

“That’s okay. I’ll live.” He coughs into his fist and sniffles again. “Probably.”

 

You grimace in reply and stroke his shoulder as he lies down again and pulls the blanket up to his chin.

 

You turn the light off and pray that he’ll be able to finally fall asleep - and by extension, that you’ll be able to sleep as well. You can’t quite tell whether it’s just the incessant cacophony of his cold or also the worry that sits in the pit of your stomach that’s keeping you up, but either way, your eyes are burning and you can’t stop thinking about how tired you’re going to be tomorrow if you can’t fall asleep right this second.

 

It’s quiet for a while, but it’s a tense kind of silence - you can almost feel him trying to keep his breathing quiet and hold back his coughs. After a moment, he loses his battle, gasping for air and coughing so hard he has to sit up. When he gets up to refill his glass of water from the bathroom sink, you’ve finally had enough. You get out of bed and pull on your jeans and a hoodie.

 

When he comes back from the bathroom, he stops in the doorway upon seeing you. “What’s going on? Are you going somewhere?”

 

“Just going to the 24-hour convenience store down the block, see if they’ve got some cold medicine. There’s no way either of us are getting any sleep otherwise.”

 

He swallows thickly and doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’m sorry, babe. I can go sleep on the couch if you want…”

 

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” You go over to him and press a kiss on his temple, burying your face into his neck and wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “I just want you to feel better. And you’re not going to feel any better unless you get a good night’s sleep.”

 

And before he can protest, you’re out the door, slipping on your sneakers and grabbing your wallet.

 

When you get back from the store, a plastic bag containing your purchases in hand, the bed is empty and you can hear the shower running in the bathroom. Curious, you knock on the door. “Babe, are you alright? Can I come in?”

 

As soon as he opens the door, you’re hit by a wave of heat and humidity. The bathroom mirror is almost completely fogged up and the shower is running on full blast, apparently as hot as it will go.

 

He sniffles into a tissue, a few strands of hair plastered to his forehead with what you’re not sure is either sweat or condensation. “I thought I’d see if the steam would help with my congestion.” He sniffs again, more forcefully this time, before his eyes grow unfocused and he turns away to sneeze into his tissue. “Looks like it’s working,” he chuckles. When he blows his nose, it sounds more fluid than before, like he can actually rid his nose of mucus this time.

 

“That’s good to hear. Let’s try these as well though,” you say as you set the bag from the convenience store on the bathroom counter. You measure out a capful of cough syrup and hand it to him. “Say Aah.” He swallows it obediently, but makes a show out of grimacing at the taste afterwards.

 

You shake your head with a smile and hand him a fresh tissue. “I got you some nasal spray as well. Here, blow your nose again.”

 

He does as told, then takes the bottle from you and inserts it into his right nostril, spraying it up his nose and sniffing deeply. He barely has the time to remove the nozzle before his mouth drops open and his eyes flutter shut. He sneezes hard, only just twisting his upper body away from you in time, then immediately sneezes again. He looks up at you with watering eyes and gives his nose a short blow before sneezing a third time.

 

“Damn,” he sighs. “That was intense.” 

 

You reach out to gently brush away a tear from his cheek with your thumb. “Let’s try that again.” You smile at him encouragingly and pause. “But don’t blow your nose and try not to sneeze this time. It’s not going to work if it’s coming out again right away.”

 

He groans, but takes the nasal spray and gives a pump into each nostril, sniffing the liquid up his nose carefully. After a second, his chest rises with a deep inhale and his eyes narrow, clearly on the verge of another sneeze. 

 

You tut at him. “Uh-uh, don’t sneeze. Think you can hold it back?”

 

He gives you a look with his eyebrows drawn together like he thinks you’re insane, but nevertheless he pinches his nose shut and holds his breath. His chest heaves a few times and you think he’s not going to be able to stop the sneeze, but then he releases his nose from between his fingers and exhales slowly. 

 

“Wow. That was deeply unpleasant,” he says, sniffling again and wiping the bottom of his nose with a balled-up tissue.

 

“It’ll be worth it though, you’ll be able to breathe,” you reply while guiding him back towards the bed.

 

As he’s getting back under the covers, he tries inhaling through his nose, and to the surprise of both of you, his breathing sounds smooth and quiet, the air flowing through his nostrils almost unobstructed.

 

Both of you snuggle deeper into the pillows, and as you turn the light off, he says sleepily, “You were right, I can actually breathe again. Thank you so much, babe.”

 

You still for a moment and hold his hand, listening to his breathing evening out. You’re sure he doesn’t even stay awake long enough to hear your whispered “you’re welcome”.

[SleepingPhlox]

Holy moly, I love everything about this.  Utterly gorgeous, thank you so much for sharing!

[Catsgotyourtounge]

Loved this

[NotWho]

oh my gosh i loved this so much

[dwaekki]

Wow I loved this! It was so sweet how she took care of him 🥰