A Pain in the Neck
Another fill for the kink meme. The prompter asked for some hurt/comfort involving a person having muscle spasms and someone helping them out. I did some research on how to treat neck and back spasms, so I think I portrayed the treatment correctly, but if I didn't I'm sorry for the inaccuracies and hope the fill is still enjoyable. I decided to use Critic and Film Brain since I haven't written them in a while and I still love that pairing. Although this is less slashy and more h/c-focused, it still has an underlying current of feelings, especially from Film Brain's end. I really can't wait to see if his love for Critic is carried over into the new anniversary special, lol.
Critic had suffered from painful muscle spasms in his neck and back ever since he was a kid. No matter how careful he was to avoid lifting heavy loads, prevent himself from making any sudden movements, or keep only the straightest posture, he was still vulnerable to sudden excruciating attacks when he was highly stressed.
Unfortunately for Critic, inviting several of his co-workers over for another epic adventure caused him levels of stress he had only felt before in his worst nightmares.
By the time the last producer was in a cab ready to leave on the last day, Critic was feeling such intense pain in his neck that he saw white spots every time he blinked. He could barely move his head more than a centimeter to either side and felt dizzy when he walked. Soon he was blindly groping for any available chair or shelf with one hand to steady himself as he navigated through his living room. The other hand was bent behind his back pinching at his throbbing neck and trying to settle the constantly contracting muscles.
“Shit,” Critic whispered as he was overtaken by a wave of nausea so strong he practically collapsed onto the couch. Although unavoidable, this action was not the best to take, since it jostled Critic’s head and caused him to howl with pain.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!”
Critic panted, still massaging the tender area as best he could. He needed to get to the bathroom and find something, anything to help with this pain. However, it looked like he wasn’t going to be able to move at all in the immediate future, and it was just his luck that he was alone in the house for the first time in ages. As Critic tried to form a plan amidst the spasms that were now spreading south toward his back, a soft voice called out to him.
“Critic? Are you all right?”
Critic answered with a low moan and shut his eyes to temper the second wave of nausea coursing through him. The voice spoke to him again, this time from a much closer distance.
“What’s wrong? How can I help you?”
Critic could just identify it as belonging to Film Brain but he was in too much pain to feel his usual annoyance with the younger man.
“M-my neck,” he panted. “Spasms. Painful. V-very painful.”
Film Brain’s voice filled with concern.
“Oh no, that’s awful. Don’t worry, Critic, I’ll be right back.”
Film Brain scurried off and returned a moment later with a bowl of warm water.
“I think it would be best of you lied down on your stomach.” He gently helped Critic maneuver into this position on the couch and treated him a level of patience Critic rarely saw. This was a time-consuming process, yet Film Brain didn’t complain once. “Okay, good. Now, I don’t have much experience with muscle spasms, but I do know this always helps with my headaches, so I’m going to put this on your neck for now.”
Film Brain reached into the bowl and pulled out a washcloth, squeezing it a little, before pressing it against the nape of Critic’s neck. Critic uttered a soft moan when he felt the warmth soak into his skin, not even minding as the top of his jacket and shirt were soaked in the process.
“Is this all right?” Film Brain asked. His hand was still pressing the cloth to Critic’s neck and as he attempted to remove it, Critic grabbed his wrist.
“C-can you rub it?” he asked, any embarrassment he felt masked by pain. “Just for a little bit.”
“Oh, sure I can.”
Film Brain proceeded to gently massage the back and sides of Critic’s neck for a solid thirty minutes. He worked quietly and didn’t stop unless to dip the cloth into the bowl of water again. Critic felt himself relaxing as the massage continued, allowing soft moans to frequently slip past his lips.
With a bit of encouragement, Film Brain also started to very gently turn Critic’s head to the right, then left, helping improve his range of motion little by little. Soon Critic felt well enough to move his head on his own again, although he didn’t chance this and mostly kept still.
“S-so why… are you still here?” Critic managed to eventually ask.
“Well, I arrived at the airport and found my flight had been canceled,” Film Brain explained. “I couldn’t get another one until late tomorrow evening, so I thought I’d return here to see if you needed anything. I noticed you’d been a bit tense during our time together, and I was afraid you might have fallen ill or something. I’m just glad I got here before you were in even worse shape.”
Critic wasn’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t used to people worrying about him this much, and showing gratitude of any kind was never his strong suit. So he kept his mouth closed until Film Brain’s skillful fingers pressed down on the tense flesh of his shoulders.
“Oh God,” he moaned, shifting a little at the sensation of mixed pain and pleasure.
“Sorry about that,” Film Brain said, quickly pulling back. “I just thought you looked rather stiff and might enjoy… well, no matter, I won’t do that again.”
“No, it’s okay,” Critic told him, not wanting the feeling to disappear so quickly. “Actually, my back has been bothering me too. I’d love it if you could do to it what you’ve been doing to my neck… if you wouldn’t mind, Film Brain.”
There was a pause, and Critic was sure he’d finally freaked him out enough that he’d want to leave. But then Film Brain started to tug off his jacket and slowly started pushing up his shirt.
“Uh, I have some balm by my bathroom sink,” Critic said before he could start. “It’s supposed to help with these fucking spasms. I also have some painkillers, if you can find those too.”
“I’ll be right back.” Film Brain hurried off again, leaving Critic to rub his neck by himself once more.
This was nowhere near as enjoyable, so he was quite happy when Film Brain returned with a small tube of balm, a heating pad, a towel, and a medicine bottle.
“I saw this heating pad on your bed, Critic, and thought it might help,” he said before his tone grew nervous. “I hope you don’t mind me touching your things without permission.”
“It’s fine.” Critic really didn’t care what Film Brain did at this point, not as long as he continued using those talented fingers on him.
Relieved, Film Brain removed the washcloth from Critic’s neck and wiped the area dry before setting the pad upon it. Critic sighed when he felt his skin absorb the deep heat, which worked hard to combat the painful spasms. He sighed again, much more audibly this time, when Film Brain started to rub the aching muscles of his back.
“Good fucking gravy,” was just one of the gems that slipped from Critic’s mouth as he grew ever more relaxed. He was starting to feel like he might turn into goo and slide off the couch at any moment, but the reassuring feel of Film Brain’s hands on his back helped hold him steady. They soothed every inch of skin from shoulders to hips, making certain not to neglect his aching neck either, until Critic’s muscles were under control once again.
“You feeling better then?” Film Brain asked after noticing that Critic was tentatively moving his shoulder blades on his own.
“So much better,” Critic answered, satisfied with the results and moving on to check his neck. He was even more pleased to find his muscles were obeying him without a hint of painful protest. His head was no longer aching either and he was able to notice the time. Critic’s eyes widened. “God, it’s been two hours? Film Brain, why didn’t you say anything?” He gently turned his neck to look back at the younger man, a trace of guilt on his face. “You could have asked for a break, you know.”
“But I didn’t want a break,” Film Brain replied. “I wanted to help you until you felt better.” He looked so earnest that Critic felt even guiltier.
“Well, you succeeded. So… thanks a lot.” Critic wished he could say something more, something that better expressed how he felt, but words always failed him in situations like these. Instead, he shifted on the couch, suddenly restless. “I feel like having a shower. I think the sensation of hot water pounding against my back will help keep these fucking spasms at bay.”
“That’s a good idea,” Film Brain said with a nod. “I suppose I’d better head out then. I’ll need to find a hotel room for the night anyway.”
“You’re leaving?” Critic looked at him again, honestly surprised. “Why? Wouldn’t it just be easier to stay here?”
Now it was Film Brain’s turn to look surprised.
“Oh, well, I wasn’t planning to impose on you any longer-”
“You’re not imposing,” Critic cut him off, peering directly into his eyes. “Besides, if my spasms come back, I’ll need you again, Film Brain.”
Critic didn’t know it, but this utterance meant more to Film Brain than any other words of thanks he could offer. Film Brain beamed at him and nodded.
“All right then! I’ll stay!”
“Great.” Critic started to pull himself into a sitting position but made one accidental jerk of his head that brought a fresh wave of spasms to his neck. “Fuck! Fuck! Oh God damn it!”
Concerned, Film Brain reached for the medicine bottle.
“Do you want a painkiller, Critic?”
“N-no, I hate taking those,” Critic admitted, closing his eyes to try to brace against the pain. “Can you j-just rub my neck again? I r-really love that.”
Film Brain’s smile wavered slightly as set down the bottle but he nodded resolutely.
“Of course, Critic. Anything for you.”
Critic had suffered from painful muscle spasms in his neck and back ever since he was a kid. No matter how careful he was to avoid lifting heavy loads, prevent himself from making any sudden movements, or keep only the straightest posture, he was still vulnerable to sudden excruciating attacks when he was highly stressed.
Unfortunately for Critic, inviting several of his co-workers over for another epic adventure caused him levels of stress he had only felt before in his worst nightmares.
By the time the last producer was in a cab ready to leave on the last day, Critic was feeling such intense pain in his neck that he saw white spots every time he blinked. He could barely move his head more than a centimeter to either side and felt dizzy when he walked. Soon he was blindly groping for any available chair or shelf with one hand to steady himself as he navigated through his living room. The other hand was bent behind his back pinching at his throbbing neck and trying to settle the constantly contracting muscles.
“Shit,” Critic whispered as he was overtaken by a wave of nausea so strong he practically collapsed onto the couch. Although unavoidable, this action was not the best to take, since it jostled Critic’s head and caused him to howl with pain.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!”
Critic panted, still massaging the tender area as best he could. He needed to get to the bathroom and find something, anything to help with this pain. However, it looked like he wasn’t going to be able to move at all in the immediate future, and it was just his luck that he was alone in the house for the first time in ages. As Critic tried to form a plan amidst the spasms that were now spreading south toward his back, a soft voice called out to him.
“Critic? Are you all right?”
Critic answered with a low moan and shut his eyes to temper the second wave of nausea coursing through him. The voice spoke to him again, this time from a much closer distance.
“What’s wrong? How can I help you?”
Critic could just identify it as belonging to Film Brain but he was in too much pain to feel his usual annoyance with the younger man.
“M-my neck,” he panted. “Spasms. Painful. V-very painful.”
Film Brain’s voice filled with concern.
“Oh no, that’s awful. Don’t worry, Critic, I’ll be right back.”
Film Brain scurried off and returned a moment later with a bowl of warm water.
“I think it would be best of you lied down on your stomach.” He gently helped Critic maneuver into this position on the couch and treated him a level of patience Critic rarely saw. This was a time-consuming process, yet Film Brain didn’t complain once. “Okay, good. Now, I don’t have much experience with muscle spasms, but I do know this always helps with my headaches, so I’m going to put this on your neck for now.”
Film Brain reached into the bowl and pulled out a washcloth, squeezing it a little, before pressing it against the nape of Critic’s neck. Critic uttered a soft moan when he felt the warmth soak into his skin, not even minding as the top of his jacket and shirt were soaked in the process.
“Is this all right?” Film Brain asked. His hand was still pressing the cloth to Critic’s neck and as he attempted to remove it, Critic grabbed his wrist.
“C-can you rub it?” he asked, any embarrassment he felt masked by pain. “Just for a little bit.”
“Oh, sure I can.”
Film Brain proceeded to gently massage the back and sides of Critic’s neck for a solid thirty minutes. He worked quietly and didn’t stop unless to dip the cloth into the bowl of water again. Critic felt himself relaxing as the massage continued, allowing soft moans to frequently slip past his lips.
With a bit of encouragement, Film Brain also started to very gently turn Critic’s head to the right, then left, helping improve his range of motion little by little. Soon Critic felt well enough to move his head on his own again, although he didn’t chance this and mostly kept still.
“S-so why… are you still here?” Critic managed to eventually ask.
“Well, I arrived at the airport and found my flight had been canceled,” Film Brain explained. “I couldn’t get another one until late tomorrow evening, so I thought I’d return here to see if you needed anything. I noticed you’d been a bit tense during our time together, and I was afraid you might have fallen ill or something. I’m just glad I got here before you were in even worse shape.”
Critic wasn’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t used to people worrying about him this much, and showing gratitude of any kind was never his strong suit. So he kept his mouth closed until Film Brain’s skillful fingers pressed down on the tense flesh of his shoulders.
“Oh God,” he moaned, shifting a little at the sensation of mixed pain and pleasure.
“Sorry about that,” Film Brain said, quickly pulling back. “I just thought you looked rather stiff and might enjoy… well, no matter, I won’t do that again.”
“No, it’s okay,” Critic told him, not wanting the feeling to disappear so quickly. “Actually, my back has been bothering me too. I’d love it if you could do to it what you’ve been doing to my neck… if you wouldn’t mind, Film Brain.”
There was a pause, and Critic was sure he’d finally freaked him out enough that he’d want to leave. But then Film Brain started to tug off his jacket and slowly started pushing up his shirt.
“Uh, I have some balm by my bathroom sink,” Critic said before he could start. “It’s supposed to help with these fucking spasms. I also have some painkillers, if you can find those too.”
“I’ll be right back.” Film Brain hurried off again, leaving Critic to rub his neck by himself once more.
This was nowhere near as enjoyable, so he was quite happy when Film Brain returned with a small tube of balm, a heating pad, a towel, and a medicine bottle.
“I saw this heating pad on your bed, Critic, and thought it might help,” he said before his tone grew nervous. “I hope you don’t mind me touching your things without permission.”
“It’s fine.” Critic really didn’t care what Film Brain did at this point, not as long as he continued using those talented fingers on him.
Relieved, Film Brain removed the washcloth from Critic’s neck and wiped the area dry before setting the pad upon it. Critic sighed when he felt his skin absorb the deep heat, which worked hard to combat the painful spasms. He sighed again, much more audibly this time, when Film Brain started to rub the aching muscles of his back.
“Good fucking gravy,” was just one of the gems that slipped from Critic’s mouth as he grew ever more relaxed. He was starting to feel like he might turn into goo and slide off the couch at any moment, but the reassuring feel of Film Brain’s hands on his back helped hold him steady. They soothed every inch of skin from shoulders to hips, making certain not to neglect his aching neck either, until Critic’s muscles were under control once again.
“You feeling better then?” Film Brain asked after noticing that Critic was tentatively moving his shoulder blades on his own.
“So much better,” Critic answered, satisfied with the results and moving on to check his neck. He was even more pleased to find his muscles were obeying him without a hint of painful protest. His head was no longer aching either and he was able to notice the time. Critic’s eyes widened. “God, it’s been two hours? Film Brain, why didn’t you say anything?” He gently turned his neck to look back at the younger man, a trace of guilt on his face. “You could have asked for a break, you know.”
“But I didn’t want a break,” Film Brain replied. “I wanted to help you until you felt better.” He looked so earnest that Critic felt even guiltier.
“Well, you succeeded. So… thanks a lot.” Critic wished he could say something more, something that better expressed how he felt, but words always failed him in situations like these. Instead, he shifted on the couch, suddenly restless. “I feel like having a shower. I think the sensation of hot water pounding against my back will help keep these fucking spasms at bay.”
“That’s a good idea,” Film Brain said with a nod. “I suppose I’d better head out then. I’ll need to find a hotel room for the night anyway.”
“You’re leaving?” Critic looked at him again, honestly surprised. “Why? Wouldn’t it just be easier to stay here?”
Now it was Film Brain’s turn to look surprised.
“Oh, well, I wasn’t planning to impose on you any longer-”
“You’re not imposing,” Critic cut him off, peering directly into his eyes. “Besides, if my spasms come back, I’ll need you again, Film Brain.”
Critic didn’t know it, but this utterance meant more to Film Brain than any other words of thanks he could offer. Film Brain beamed at him and nodded.
“All right then! I’ll stay!”
“Great.” Critic started to pull himself into a sitting position but made one accidental jerk of his head that brought a fresh wave of spasms to his neck. “Fuck! Fuck! Oh God damn it!”
Concerned, Film Brain reached for the medicine bottle.
“Do you want a painkiller, Critic?”
“N-no, I hate taking those,” Critic admitted, closing his eyes to try to brace against the pain. “Can you j-just rub my neck again? I r-really love that.”
Film Brain’s smile wavered slightly as set down the bottle but he nodded resolutely.
“Of course, Critic. Anything for you.”