Help! I'm the Plot Device: Just Here to Save the Heroes

Hangovers, Head Rubs, and Hidden Talents"

Yichen's Chamber

The chamber was quiet save for Jerry's uneven breathing. Ran Yi had left after bowing low, and Yuanzhou lingered just long enough to smooth the blanket over his brother's shoulders. He brushed a lock of hair away from Jerry's forehead, expression softening for a fleeting moment, then turned and left with the faintest rustle of robes.

The System crackled faintly. "Host? Host? ...You're completely wasted. I'll meet you in the morning." With a long sigh, it blinked out.

Silence. Then the air stirred-curtains fluttered though the windows were shut. A shadow slipped inside. Yan An landed noiselessly, eyes narrowing as he studied the room. His gaze settled on the figure sprawled on the bed.

"Prince Yichen," he called softly, a trace of mockery in his tone as he poked Jerry's cheek with a gloved finger.

Jerry frowned, lids fluttering open. His voice was slurred. "Ohh... Yao daren, you're back." He scrambled upright with drunken determination, nearly tangling himself in the blanket, and swayed before Yan An.

Yan An's eyes swept him up and down, unimpressed.

Jerry blinked, then suddenly brightened. "Wait, wait-I'll get you something to drink." He grabbed Yan An by the wrist, tugging him toward the bed. "Sit here, sit-guest of honor!"

Yan An tilted his head, like a cat watching a dog make a fool of itself. He stayed standing, arms crossed, until Jerry fumbled with a small pot of water on the table.

"Here you go-" Jerry turned too quickly, tripped on the step to the bedside, and the pot clattered to the floor as he toppled.

Both of them fell onto the bed in a heap. Yan An froze, stiff as a drawn bowstring. "...Yichen. Get off."

He pushed at Jerry's shoulder, but the drunkard wrapped both arms snugly around his neck and nestled against him. "Bad kitty... sleep." His muffled words sank into the crook of Yan An's neck.

Yan An's eye twitched. He pressed his lips into a thin line, irritation radiating off him like heat. His hand hovered awkwardly in the air, not sure whether to shove or claw. "You-do you have any idea who you're clinging to?"

Jerry only gave a small contented sigh, patting Yan An's chest lazily as though soothing him. "It's okay kitty... you can sleep here."

Yan An exhaled slowly through his nose, tail-less but every inch the image of a cornered, offended feline. He settled back stiffly against the pillows, muttering under his breath, "Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous."

Yet despite himself, he didn't move Jerry off.

So the night wore on, Prince Yichen or Jerry leeching onto him like a barnacle, and Yan An lying there scowling at the ceiling, the most unwilling pillow in all the empire.

🐱🧶🐱

Morning

The morning sun had barely crept past the curtains when the system shrieked in Jerry's head.

HOST! HOST! Wake up this instant!

Jerry groaned, muffling his face in the pillow. "Why the hell are you shouting so early...? Let me-sleep." His arms wiggled lazily, legs kicking against the sheets in protest.

But then-his fingertips brushed against something warm. A steady pulse under his palm. A slow exhale against his hair.

Jerry's eyes snapped half open.

System, flat and cold: You are dead, host.

He turned his head, and the first thing he saw was Yan An's face - terrifyingly close, features sharpened by the dawn light.