It’s absurdly hot in Philly for early June. It’s upwards of ninety degrees and the humidity is a solid forty percent. The bar would be the perfect cool, dry sanctuary, but unfortunately a burst pipe has flooded the place. A crew is currently draining the water, and then a second crew is coming to assess damage and future protection.
After the pool fiasco of 2010, as well as the 2016 bloodbath at the water park, Dennis has been turned off of any public or private pool. Instead, he’s elected to stay inside the apartment. And that would be all fine and dandy if their A/C hadn’t just completely shit on them. Mac is god knows where with Charlie, and Dennis has called him five times now. When he is once again greeted with Mac’s voicemail, Dennis calmly sets down his phone and then screams at the top of his lungs.
The effort strains his throat and he coughs a little. The pain makes him whimper and he rubs at his throat gingerly. Last night he swallowed one of his pills weird and it’s been sore ever since. He told Mac something was wrong, and the jerk hadn’t believed him. Well, when Mac finally answers his goddamned phone and comes back home, Dennis is gonna make him check and make sure the pill hadn’t lodged somewhere and damaged something.
Growling, Dennis picks up his phone and dials Mac’s number again. Thankfully, the line is picked up, but all Dennis can hear is crackling. He pulls the phone from his ear, checks the screen, and then puts it back.
“Mac?”
A loud clicking noise comes through the line. Mac’s voice comes next, unclear and far away. “Dennis?”
Dennis plugs his unoccupied ear with his finger. “Dude, what the hell? Where are you?”
“Oh. Well, Charlie and I were gonna hit up Macy’s just so we could try out the beds and shit, right? But when we get there - ”
“Nevermind,” Dennis says impatiently. “Look, the air conditioning broke, and I need you to come home and help me fix it.”
“Aww, dude, really? Because Charlie and I - ”
“I don’t care, Mac,” Dennis snaps. “Look, just help me fix it and you can go right back out with Charlie. You fixed it last time, just - I’m sure it’s the same thing.”
There’s another loud clicking noise. “Alright, dude,” Mac says. “I’ll be home in a sec.”
Dennis hangs up and it takes a minute for his irritation to subside. When he can finally breathe slowly again, he gets up from the couch and heads into the kitchen for a glass of water. This heat is brutal. After filling a glass with ice, Dennis takes a solid amount of time to shove his face into the freezer. When it’s no longer soothing he closes the door shut sadly and runs the tap. The water is good for the feeling of being trapped in a toaster oven, but swallowing hurts.
“Fuck,” Dennis mutters. What the hell did he do to his throat? The pills aren’t that goddamn big.
He’s halfway to the bathroom to inspect the problem when Mac enters the apartment. Wet.
“Dude,” Dennis says.
Mac grins. “We jumped into the fountain at the park.”
Dennis closes his eyes, burning with impatience. “Whatever. Just help me with the air conditioning, okay?”
Mac nods, but meets Dennis’ eyes with a frown. “Dude, you alright? You sound stuffed up.”
Dennis blinks. Now that Mac mentions it, he realizes there is in fact a pressure in his sinuses. He can’t really breathe through his nose, which is why he’s been breathing through his mouth, no doubt irritating his throat more. Dennis’ sniffs, but nothing budges. He is really fucking stuffed up. Weird.
“Aww,” Mac coos. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick, bro?”
Dennis clears his throat, which is hurting more by the minute. “I was so focused on the heat and the air conditioning, I didn’t notice. I mean, my throat hurt but I thought it was because I swallowed that pill weird last night.”
Mac approaches him carefully. He presses one hand against Dennis’ neck and the other on his forehead. He frowns. “I can’t tell if you’re warm from the heat or if you’ve got a fever.”
Dennis shrugs him off. “It doesn’t matter. I’m okay. Let’s just fix the air conditioning and deal with this later.”
“I’m fixing the air conditioning, and then I’m putting your ass to bed,” Mac promises as he follows Dennis to the wall unit.
Dennis rolls his eyes, but secretly he’s glad to have Mac back home. He might actually be sick, and he’d rather have Mac around than be miserable alone. If he’s being honest, he usually craves Mac’s company desperately when he’s sick anyway.
“Alright, what’s the problem?” Mac asks, surveying the unit.
“I don’t know,” Dennis admits. “I’ll push all the buttons or twist a dial, but the air doesn’t come out. Maybe it’s blocked up?”
Mac nods, but Dennis gets the distinct feeling that he’s not really listening. “Right,” he says. “Do we have a screwdriver?”
“For what?” Dennis asks.
Mac taps the front of the A/C unit. “So I can pop this front part off.”
Dennis grinds his teeth together. “Mac, it just pops off and on. Get your nail in there.”
“Where?”
“Oh for Christ’s sake!” Dennis bulldozes in front of him and pulls the front off. He sets it down on the floor and steps out of the way.
Mac squares up against the exposed unit, looking at intently. He pokes around a bit, humming to himself. After a moment he steps back and says, “Just as I thought.”
“What?” Dennis asks.
“I have no idea what the fuck’s wrong with it,” Mac says.
Dennis throws his head back, feeling entirely overwhelmed. The room feels ten times hotter and hits throat seems to pulsate with pain. He lets out a small whimper and grabs the front of his neck.
“Den?” Mac asks. “What’s wrong?” He approaches Dennis carefully and lays a gentle hand on Dennis’ shoulder. “Talk to me, Den.”
“It’s so hot,” Dennis whines. “And I feel gross. And I think you’re right about me being sick.” He coughs in an attempt to lessen pain. “My throat hurts so bad.”
Mac’s hand moves up to cup Dennis’ face. Dennis leans into the touch unabashedly.
“We have some box fans,” Mac says. “Let me get them out and we can set them up. Why don’t you go change into some pajamas. Do you want me to make up a bed on the couch for you?”
Dennis nods. He’s frowning, and Mac is struck with the urge to kiss it away. He lets his hand drop from Dennis’ face instead and walks away.
There are two box fans in the bedroom that Mac has set up as ‘the gym.’ He hauls both of them out and sets them in the living room, facing the couch. He turns them up to the highest RPM they’ll go and lets them be.
Dennis is already changed when Mac enters their room. Together, they carry all the pillows and the comforter out to the living room. Mac fluffs up the pillows before Dennis lays down, and then covers him carefully with the comforter. He fidgets around at first, unsatisfied until he shoots one foot out from under the blanket.
“’S'hot,” he mutters.
Mac pouts. “Do you need anything right now, man?”
Dennis squints up at him. “Tylenol?”
“Got it,” Mac says, and he disappears into the kitchen. He grabs the Tylenol from the cupboard and fills up a glass with ice water. When he returns, he finds Dennis with his eyes closed, expression pinched. “Den?”
He opens his eyes slowly. “This really fucking hurts,” he says, and is interrupted by several dry coughs. “What the fuck.”
Mac sets the bottle of pills and glass of water on the table. He gives Dennis a little nudge and settles himself at Dennis’ side on the couch. Without warning, he presses his fingers on either side of Dennis’ neck, feeling his glands. They’re super swollen.
“Dude, your lymph nodes feel like rocks. How did you not notice this?”
Dennis moans. “I’m noticing it now.” He coughs again, and it sounds painful.
“Will you let me look at your throat?” Mac asks.
“Go for it,” Dennis mumbles.
Mac pulls out his phone and turns the flashlight on. “Open up.” Dennis does, and Mac leans down to get a closer look. He has to move his phone around until he gets good enough light, and when he sees the state of Dennis’ throat he winces. “Jesus, are those your tonsils?”
Dennis’ eyes go wide. “What?” he asks, but it comes out like, “Aaaagh?”
“They’re fucking huge, Dennis. And they’re covered in white shit. Dude, doesn’t that mean you have strep? Shit, we gotta get you to a doctor.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dennis says. “Calm down, Mac. Listen - ” He breaks off to cough, and the fit hits him hard. “Nevermind,” he croaks. “Yeah. Doctor sounds good.”
He tries to get up, but Mac puts a hand on his chest. “Take it easy for a second. I’m gonna get us a ride so we don’t have to crowd onto the bus in this heat.” He dials Dee’s number.
“What do you want, Mac?” Dee huffs as soon as she answers.
“Dennis and I need a ride to the clinic. He’s sick, and I’m pretty sure it’s strep.”
“Hell, no,” Dee says without missing a beat.
Mac swears under his breath. “I don’t want to have to do this, Dee, but - I know you and Charlie have been fucking. If you give us a ride, then I won’t tell Frank and Dennis.”
“Oh, goddamnit,” Dee mutters over the line. “Fine. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Mac hangs up, smiling maniacally.
“Charlie and Dee are fucking?” Dennis asks, coughing weakly.
Mac nods. “Don’t say anything.”
Dennis grins. “Of course not.”
Dee arrives, and Dennis lumbers downstairs in his plaid pajama pants and Adidas sneakers. That’s how Mac knows he’s really not feeling well. Healthy Dennis would never be caught dead in public in ratty pajama pants. He works too hard to maintain his low-brow, yet tasteful fashion sense.
Mac joins Dennis in the backseat, which of course elicits a snide remark from Dee about how gay they are. Mac claps back with, “I’ve been out for months now, Dee. This is not news.” Dennis doesn’t even bat an eyelash.
Thankfully, the clinic isn’t too busy. Just a few people, no doubt trying to recover from heatstroke. Dennis sits under the air conditioning and shivers. After Mac checks them in, he waltzes over to Dennis with a frown. He grabs Dennis’ face again and presses the back of his hand to Dennis’ cheek, then forehead, then his other check.
“Yeah, so now I can tell you definitely have a fever.”
“No shit,” Dennis mumbles. “It’s fucking freezing in here.”
“I’d offer you a sweatshirt if I were wearing one,” Mac says as he settles in the seat next to Dennis. “But we’re in the middle of a heat wave, so you’re SOL.”
Dennis scowls at him and wraps his arms around himself.
They end up waiting a really fucking long time, which Dennis supposes is irony at its finest. He wanted to get out of the heat so badly, and now he is, but he’s cold as shit. This fever is really kicking his ass. Some time after the first twenty minutes, Dennis leans his head on Mac’s shoulder. Mac lets him be for a moment, but eventually he’s shuffling Dennis awake.
“’S going on?” Dennis slurs.
“We’re still waiting, but we’re like - we’re on a bench thingy dude.” It’s true, it’s kind of like three chairs stuffed together without armrests in the middle of them. Dennis wonders if they’re only manufactured for waiting rooms. “If you wanna lay your head in my lap and get comfortable, go ahead.”
With zero hesitation, Dennis lowers himself down, resting his head in Mac’s lap and curling up his body so he fits on the other two seats. Mac’s fingers brush across his hot forehead and he lets out a soft, involuntary noise. He drifts off again as Mac plays with his hair.
Roughly an hour after they arrive, Dennis is finally escorted back to an empty room. Mac helps him clim on top of the bed where he sits, bleary and impatient. The nurse asks him about his symptoms and he mutters something like, “Sore throat. Fucking hurts. And I’m cold,” before Mac takes over.
“I looked at his throat back home, and excuse my language, but it was fucking nasty. Look for yourself. Also, he’s real stuffed up, and he’s running a fever.”
The nurse nods before confirming all the knowledge herself. With a swipe of her fancy thermometer she confirms that Dennis has a high-grade fever. She checks his glands too, clicking her tongue when she feels how swollen they are.
“Right?” Mac says. “They feel like rocks.”
Finally, she shines a light down his throat. She squints, and then makes another noise of disapproval. “Certainly looks like something bacterial. Although it’s concentrated in his tonsils, so likely tonsillitis. I’ll administer a strep test.”
She leaves the room for a second and Mac stands up. He positions himself in front of Dennis, who looks absolutely miserable. As soon as Mac’s close enough, Dennis buries his face in Mac’s chest and moans. Mac pouts and rests a hand on Dennis’ bicep.
“How you holding up, dude?”
“This sucks,” Dennis says, voice muffled by Mac’s shirt. “I feel like absolute shit. It all hit me in the last hour.”
“Aww, it’s alright, Den,” Mac soothes. “We’ll get out of here soon and then you can sleep in our hot, humid apartment.”
“Fuck off,” Dennis mutters. He’s quiet for a moment and then he asks, “Do we at least have ice cream?”
Mac laughs. “I don’t think so, man. Life fucking sucks for you right now, doesn’t it?”
Dennis groans again, but it sounds more like a growl. “Ow,” he says afterward, quiet, face still smushed into Mac’s pecs. “My throat hurts, Mac.”
“I know, Den. I know.”
The door clicks open and the nurse enters with supplies. Mac steps back, but keeps a hand on Dennis’ upper arm.
“Have you received a strep test before?” The nurse asks. Dennis nods. “Alright, then I won’t give you the whole spiel. Just open up for me.”
Dennis opens his mouth calmly, but his hand comes up to grab Mac’s. Mac squeezes his hand in reassurance. The test is over in a second, and Dennis is left coughing. They sound deep and sharp, and Mac winces. Without even thinking about it, he press his hand to Dennis’ back. Dennis waves a hand at him, which Mac catches and holds.
“I’m fine,” Dennis insists. Although he lets out a few more nasty coughs before he’s finished.
“Alright,” the nurse says. “This test will be ready in ten minutes. I’ll be back shortly with the proper diagnosis and treatment.”
“Thank you,” Mac says with a nod as she leaves the room again.
Dennis sags tremendously, sniffling. His breath is a little ragged as he recovers from the coughing fit, and his jaw is clenched tightly. Mac knows he must really be in pain. He rubs a few circles in Dennis’ back.
“Why don’t you lay down?” he suggests.
Dennis nods feebly before shifting his body around and curling up on the sterile bed. Mac grabs a chair and sits down in front of him. He reaches a hand up, and with his elbow resting on the mattress, begins stroking Dennis’ forehead. His hair is damp with sweat, and Mac brushes a few curls out of the way. Dennis breathes a small noise of contentment.
“You know,” Mac says. “I’m thinking that it was probably a good thing the A/C broke, or I wouldn’t have been home to drag your sick ass to the clinic.”
“Shut up,” Dennis croaks, and his eyelids flutter shut.
They wait longer than ten minutes for the test, of course. It’s more like twenty minutes before the nurse is back with the results and a prescription.
“So it’s definitely a strep strand,” she reports. “Centralized in the tonsils. I’m prescribing a full round of antibiotics, and obviously, get some rest, drink plenty of fluids.” She hands the piece of paper to Mac.
He tucks it in his back pocket before coaxing Dennis down from the bed.
“Come on, Den. The broken A/C awaits.”
“Nooo,” Dennis moans, half-asleep.
As they walk out of the clinic, Mac dials Dee again. “Where are you at? We need to get to a pharmacy. You’re not busy with Charlie, are you?”
“I’m on my way,” Dee growls.
Dennis is pretty much out while they wait for her, drooling on Mac’s cargo shorts. Mac decides not to say anything later. Dennis would probably be really embarrassed about it. When Dee rolls up to the curb, Mac shakes him gently awake.
“Alright, bud. We’re heading to the pharmacy, and then back home.”
Dennis grumbles something incoherent as he struggles upward. Mac keeps a hand on the small of his back to steady him as they walk to her car. Even in the sun, Dennis is practically radiating heat. They’ve gotta get some Tylenol in him.
Inside the car, Dennis rests his head against the window and coughs. Dee’s air conditioning blasts him in the face and he moans in response. He’s really starting to feel the effects of the fever - his skin, hot and irritated; his muscles and joints ache something tremendous; the chills rack his body, making him exhausted. Wordlessly, he reaches out a hand for Mac, who grasps it.
“You okay, Den?”
Dennis shakes his head. “Don’t feel good.”
Mac runs his thumb over the top of Dennis’ hand. His other hand comes up to rest against Dennis’ cheek.
“Your fever’s pretty high. Probably why you feel like shit.”
Dennis hums and drops his head the opposite direction, onto Mac’s shoulder, like it’s second nature. Mac keeps his hand firmly in Dennis’, occasionally stroking his thumb back and forth. Dennis drifts off again with the feeling of Mac around him.
When he wakes up next, Mac is sliding back into the car, a plastic bag in his hand. Groggily, Dennis opens his eyes and repositions himself.
“That my meds?” he asks.
“Yup,” Mac confirms. “And also - “ He reaches into the bag and pulls a carton of ice cream out.
Dennis smiles lazily, sleep already pulling him back under. “Mmmm. Ice cream. Love you, Mac.”
He can hear Mac laugh. “Fever must be making you pretty delirious, Den.”
Dennis doesn’t have the energy to reply; he just snuggles back into Mac’s side as Dee says something about “why don’t they just get married?”