Page 44 of Unbreak Me

"Damn, it looks bad," he said, peering at his torso. I could see his hands were shaking.

"Day, let’s go to the bathroom. We need to clean you up. Your T-shirt is soaked with vomit. I’ll change the sheets in a moment," I kept my tone soft, then reached out to him, smiling reassuringly. He took my hand without hesitation, and I led him to the bathroom, walking step by step, as he swayed slightly.

And then came the moment of consternation.

"Can I help you undress, or would you prefer me to leave you some privacy?" I asked, knowing how important it was to get his consent for everything.

In the artificial light of the bathroom, his face looked even paler than usual, and the shadows under his eyes seemed deeper. He raised his gaze to meet mine and said, "I know you won't hurt me, Jan."

We looked at each other for a moment.

"You're right. I'll never do anything against your will when it concerns your body. Although," I added, trying to lighten the mood with a smile, "I may make some other decisions on my own."

He nodded slowly and tried to smile too, but it came out a little rueful. "I understand that. Okay, you can help me."

I gently took hold of the edge of his T-shirt and lifted it, pulling it over his head.

It was the first time I saw him like this—half-naked. He was incredibly thin; I could count every rib. His nipples were larger and more prominent than those of a typical omega, likely because he'd been pregnant multiple times and had lactated. They seemed more swollen and protruding now, perhaps because of the cold. I quickly averted my gaze, not wanting to stare too much—it would’ve felt wrong. I also squashed any inappropriate thoughts that might’ve crept in.

I helped him out of his shorts until he was down to just his boxers. I didn’t plan to take those off him.

Then I led him to the bathtub in the corner, helped him sit down, and turned on the warm water. After grabbing the shower head, I slowly began to pour the water over his chest and stomach to wash away the remaining vomit.

Day lay motionless in the tub, staring at the ceiling, letting me run the warm water over him. I could see it brought him some relief.

Glancing at the shower gel nearby, I asked, "Maybe you'd like to wash a bit here—on your chest? Some vomit definitely soaked through your T-shirt," I emphasized with a wry smile.

He didn’t look at me, still staring at the ceiling, but replied quietly, "You do it."

I hesitated for a moment before picking up a sponge to make it feel less intrusive. I lathered it with the gel and gently slid it over his skin, washing him. His eyes remained fixed on the ceiling the entire time.

I try not to rub the sponge over his nipples too often, but I have to do it a few times, and suddenly, I noticed something. A small but definitely growing bulge in his boxers. Was he aroused by such a light touch? Well, I didn't want to over-interpret it, but as I cleaned other parts of his body, his stomach and thighs, it became clear that his bulge now grew considerably.

I realized I should stop and leave the bathroom to avoid any awkwardness.

"Maybe I should give you some privacy," I muttered and tried to get up, but his move was quick—he grabbed my wrist, still staring at the ceiling, which was strange.

"Is it uncomfortable for you?" His tone was odd, almost challenging.

I knew what he wanted. It was in the air. "Well, I'm certainly not going to cross any boundaries like that without your explicit consent, I hope you know that." It was the best answer I could come up with.

"I guess I'm touch-starved, Jan. I haven't been touched in a… gentle way since Nico left me. But my body still remembers that it can be pleasurable, even if my mind is in disarray."

As Day talked, I kept pouring water over him, knowing he might get cold if I stopped. But his bulge didn't go away.

"What do you want me to do, Day?" I whispered, feeling confused. "After what you told me today, I don't feel like any initiative should come from me, especially nothing sexual."

He whispered, closing his eyes. "I just… I want to feel good for a change. I want to be touched."

"Touched in a way that makes you feel… very good? The ‘o’ good?"

"Yes… the ‘o’ good."

My pulse was racing like crazy, my breath was hitching in my chest. So this was it? Were we about to take the big step? Intimacy. Fuck.

Feeling super nervous, I slowly moved the shower head to my left hand and lowered my right hand to his hip, hooking my finger into his waistband.

"Is this okay?"

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