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There are people that throw up at the mere sound of someone else throwing up.
Keith, luckily for his boyfriend, is not one of those people.
He cringes, though, with sympathy and guilt when he hears the muffled sounds of his boyfriend’s retching behind their bathroom’s door.
Keith sneaks a quick glance towards the digital wall clock on the living room and bites his lower lip in worry when he notices that it’s been almost 20 minutes since Lance had abruptly stood up from their cuddle session and locked himself in their bathroom.
Twenty long, long minutes.
“Lance?” Keith calls softly, knuckles gently knocking on the wooden door, “Babe, make a sound of you can hear me.”
Lance heaves loudly inside.
“Not that kind of sound.” Keith mumbles sadly before he sighs, “Baby, are you sure you don’t want me to get Coran? I’m sure he won’t mind -”
“No!” Lance shouts from behind the door, “No, there’s - there’s no need, okay! I’m - !” There’s a pause, Lance groaning loudly before he throws up once again and then spits out, “Ugh, I’m fine, okay? I’m fine .”
“You call locking yourself in our bathroom and throwing up for twenty minutes straight ‘fine’ .” Keith asks incredulous, eyebrows furrowing in concern, “Babe, I just - Lance, come on, please, at least let me in. I need to make sure you’re okay.”
“It’s just a bug, Keith.”
“It’s a violent case of food poisoning , Lance.” Keith stresses out, running a hand through his hair before he hits his forehead against the door’s surface, “Lance, please , let me in.”
There’s this terrified pause, a pause so small and yet long enough for Keith to think of the worst case scenario, before Lance’s weak wet voice appears.
“I don’t want you to see me like this.”
Oh, Lance.
Keith shakes his head in disbelief, giving Lance a quick warning before he turns the knob and steps inside the bathroom. He had kept his distance, this being a thin wooden door, just for Lance’s sake and respect his privacy, but enough was enough.
The sight of his boyfriend slumped against their toilet is concerning to begin with, but watching him shiver and spit into the toilet every few seconds is even more so. Lance’s back is facing him and Keith calls him one, twice, softly so he doesn’t startled him.
Instead, Lance seems to shrink himself even further at his voice, hiding his face away from Keith’s view.
“Hey, now,” Keith mumbles worriedly, “Lance, come on, don’t hide away from me.”
Lance grunts and does the exact opposite of what Keith asks him. Keith snorts, shaking his head before he heads towards the sink and pulls out a small cloth from the one of the drawers.
He wets it and twist it a few times, humming under his breath as he works and his lips twitch upward when he notices the way Lance’s shoulders relax at his humming. He then fills up a glass of water half way before he heads towards his boyfriend.
“Hey,” Keith calls softly right after, kneeling just behind Lance to give the brunet the chance to make the decision his own, “Come here? Please?”
Keith waits, watching with a hint of amusement as Lance debates with himself before he sighs tiredly and slowly turns around to face his boyfriend.
Keith wants to facepalm himself when Lance doesn't lift up his face.
“Babe,” he coos tenderly, putting the glass down on the floor before raising his hand to brush Lance’s bangs out of his face, “Sweetheart, look at me.”
Lance groans half annoyed before he resigns himself and tiredly lifts his head up. Glassy blue eyes meet his own and Keith’s heart aches for his boyfriend.
“There you are.” Keith whispers softly, picking the glass up and offering it to his boyfriend. He nods pleased when Lance takes a sip, washing his mouth quickly and then spitting out on the toilet. Keith flushes it down before Lance can look.
“Thanks.” Lance mumbles quietly, letting Keith to take the glass from his hands and sighing softly when Keith places the wet cloth on his forehead, gently wiping away his sweat. “Wiping away how disgusting I look?”
Keith makes a face, frowning in disapproval. “Wiping away your mild fever, more like.” He mumbles, pulling the cloth away before his hands replace it on Lance’s forehead.
It’s a little over-heated, clammy and definitely a shade paler than his healthy skin tone. Keith bites his lip in worry, thinking this should be a good time as any to move Lance from the bathroom to their bedroom but the thought quickly leaves his head when Lance’s hand squeezes Keith’s forearm tightly, hold shaking slightly.
“Please, don’t move.” Lance whimpers, squeezing his eyes close in what could almost be pain, “Please, please, don’t - I don’t wanna move, please.”
“Sh, hey, hey, it’s fine, we won’t move.” Keith hushes quietly, “Just follow my breathing, alright? That’s all, long and deep breathes, babe.”
The fact that Lance didn’t make a joke from that tells Keith just how serious and sick he’s boyfriend’s feeling.
“Keith,” Lance whispers weakly, “Keith, I don’t feel good.”
“Just follow my lead, sweetheart.”
It takes a little coaching, but after a few examples, Lance slowly falls into Keith’s instructions and follows his deep breathing. Keith waits a few more minutes before he gets a small faint nod from Lance and then he’s slowly standing up from the floor, picking Lance’s heavy weight with him.
What’s usually a walk of two minutes turns into almost ten at their pace but Keith doesn’t want to risk another session between Lance’s face and the toilet. Once near their bed, Keith gently lays his boyfriend down, making sure to put most of their pillow against the bed headboard so Lance could be half sitting but still resting comfortably.
Keith sighs heavily as he drops the light blanket on top of Lance’s body and reaches for his phone, stomach twisting uncomfortably because Lance hasn’t make any other sound than small whimpers and whines.
“I’m going to call Coran, okay?” Keith says, pushing Lance’s hair away from his face and sighing in relief on the inside when Lance finally opens his eyes to look at him, heavy with fever and pain but conscious. “Be right back, I promise.”
Lance doesn’t need words to tell Keith that he doesn't want him to leave, his eyes do the job just fine, almost pleading to him, but Keith is quick to pick up his boyfriend’s hand and drops a kiss on his knuckles.
“Be right back.”
‘Right back’ turns out to be around an hour later the next time Lance wakes up. There’s a lot of more stuff on the nightstand next to him, probably to fight off his bug or - poison , whatever.
Lance blinks owlishly before he looks up and meets his boyfriend’s dark blue eyes already staring at him, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. A relieved happy smile welcomes him home.
“Why, hello there, sleeping beauty.”
Lance blinks again, slow and tired before he huffs. “I ain’t no beauty like this.” He mumbles grumpily but his ghost of a smile tattle tells on him when Keith snorts.
“You’re always a beauty.” He says firmly, “Just like you’re a drama queen.”
That makes him smile and Keith cheers on the inside for the victory.
“How you feeling?” He asks then, tilting his head to the side before he reaches out and takes the damped warm cloth from his forehead, dipping it once again on the small bowl on the nightstand, “Coran said sleeping should help a little until he gets here, while keeping your fever low.”
“Lil better, I guess.” Lance says softly, shrugging half heartedly and humming in thanks when Keith places the cloth once again on his skin.
Keith nods, mouth still running. “Yeah, and no water or food for now, just to make sure but I still got like the essentials you must eat once you can stomach something solid, for now, it’s only soup, which is already cooking in the kitchen, and no worries, I have the timer this time, no more chicken on the ceiling, and -”
Keith’s mouth snaps shut when he catches Lance’s gaze and he flushes when he sees Lance’s goofy smile on his lips.
“W-What?” Keith asks confused, cheeks burning with embarrassment for a reason. The heat only grows when Lance’s gaze turns fond and lifts his hand, making ‘grabby hands’ at his boyfriend until the other snorts and complies, leaning down.
“Nothing, I just, I’m just happy to have you in my life.” Lance says softly, leaning up a little until he bumps his forehead against Keith’s, “Just, ya know, thank you.”
“You’re delirious from the fever.” Keith mumbles fondly.
Lance makes a sound, too tired and dizzy to actually snort or shake his head. “Nu-huh, grateful .” He corrects, making himself comfortable in Keith’s embrace.
Keith hums in thought while stroking his boyfriend’s hair. “Yeah, that’s fair,” he humbles softly, lips pressed on Lance’s temple as he whispers his words, “I’m pretty grateful too.”
“You know what I’m also grateful of?” Lance whispers lowly.
Keith hums, closing his eyes to enjoy the proximity.
“That bucket next to you, pass it over.”
“Oh, shit .”