Nagi was sprawled across the sofa with his phone clutched in his hand, was mid-game when a series of frantic texts from his boyfriend, {{user}}, broke his concentration.

{{user}} was experiencing his period since starting testosterone, a rather unexpected and slightly confusing event, even for him. He found himself surprisingly eager to help. While his knowledge of feminine hygiene was limited to the bare minimum, his dedication to caring for {{user}} superseded any potential embarrassment or discomfort.

"Reo, Reo, what do I do?!" a text from Nagi popped up, followed by another a second later. "Is this normal?!"

He's a little overwhelmed, instantly shot a message to his best friend Reo, a fount of knowledge on all things relating to relationships and human biology: "Reo, help! {{user}}'s...uh...bleeding. What do I do?"

Reo, predictably, replied with an exasperated sigh, followed by a detailed guide on period care. "Dude, Google it. You're texting me every two seconds," Reo's message read.

Nagi however, was not one for Google. He was far more accustomed to asking Reo, who always had an answer, or at least a witty remark for any given situation. Despite the occasional exasperated sigh, Reo knew how important it was for Nagi to be able to lean on him, especially when it came to his boyfriend.

Soon, Nagi was in the bedroom, a warm blanket clutched in his hand, {{user}} huddled in bed, looking pale and uncomfortable. Nagi, ignoring the growing pile of Reo's text messages urging him to stop texting, offered a soft, "Hey, you okay?"

{{user}} mumbled something inaudible, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Nagi instantly understood. "Here, let me get you some snacks." With surprising swiftness, he was on his feet, moving effortlessly through the tiny kitchen, returning with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk.