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Neil knew something was off the minute he woke up.
They were in Colombia for break, just the two of them, finally getting some well-deserved relaxation. However, if the look on Andrew's face was anything to go by, he definitely wasn't feeling relaxed.
The light spilling in through the curtains illuminated the room just enough for Neil to make out Andrew's features. While he doesn't necessarily look peaceful when he's sleeping, he definitely doesn't look pained, either. He wasn't thrashing or making any noise, so Neil mentally ruled out nightmare from the list of things that would be making Andrew look so uncomfortable. Maybe the mattress was too hard? Or it was too hot in the room?
Neil ended up so lost in thought that he missed Andrew slowly cracking his eyes open to peer warily up at him.
"Staring," he muttered, before closing his eyes once again and drawing the comforter up over his head.
Neil drew his thoughts back to the present, cracking a smile before whispering back, "You like it."
He heard a small grunt come from the Andrew-shaped lump on the bed. He grinned, standing up to make them some coffee. He cracked his joints, slowly making his way to the kitchen and searching for two mugs.
Once it finished brewing, he sat down at the table to drink, taking pleasure in the quiet. He knew Andrew would be up soon; he doesn't usually sleep in, especially when Neil wasn't in bed with him.
However, the more minutes that passed, the less he expected Andrew to arise from the bedroom. Perplexed, Neil carefully placed his now-empty coffee cup in the sink, before grabbing the lukewarm mug he made for Andrew and slowly making his way back to their bedroom.
"Andrew," he called, quietly pushing the door open. "I made coffee."
The blankets slowly shifted as Andrew sat up against the headboard, blinking blearily at Neil. His hair was a mess, his cheeks pink with pillow creases, and his eyes looked vaguely dazed, which Neil attributed to actually getting a full nights sleep for once.
Neil made his way back to the bed, sitting up shoulder to shoulder with his boyfriend and carefully handing him the mug.
"Thanks," Andrew whispered, bringing the cup to his lips before taking a small sip.
"Yes or no?" Neil replied, gesturing towards his hair. Andrew nodded, looking content enough for Neil to reach over even without verbal consent. They were getting better at that, he acknowledged, knowing when to trust each other with simply a nod of confirmation.
He smoothed down the errant strands of Andrew's blond hair, before running his hand back through, making the pieces stick right back up. Andrew closed his eyes, sitting still as he enjoyed Neil's fingers running over his scalp.
"What did you want to do today?" Neil asks him. "We could go see that new movie, go hiking, maybe find a court to practice?"
Andrew cracked his eyes open to glare at him.
"I didn't come here to play exy, junkie," he responded, setting his half-full mug of coffee back on the nightstand and climbing back under the covers, allowing Neil's hand to travel down with him. "We should stay here today, order food or something," he supplied.
Neil smiled again, content to just spend the day resting with him-- goodness knows they both need it.
He stood up, pulling the blankets off of Andrew's shoulders, earning himself yet another dirty look from the blond.
"Let's at least move to the couch," he suggested, ever the logical thinker, "That way we can put on a movie and we'll be closer to the kitchen when lunchtime rolls around." He shot a cheeky smile at his boyfriend, then meandered down the hall, not waiting for Andrew to follow.
Eventually they settled down in the living room, Andrew with a blanket pulled to his chin and laying in between Neil's legs, who was sprawled sideways on the couch.
Much to Neil's surprise, he feels Andrew's breathing even out only halfway into their movie, and looks down in surprise to find him dozing off, fists still curled loosely around his blanket. Content to just watch the movie by himself, Neil drew his attention back to the screen, getting lost once again in the plot.
However, not too long after he realized Andrew had fallen asleep, he felt his body jerk hastily off his chest with a gasp.
Eyes wild, Andrew fought to free his torso from the blanket, only relaxing slightly when Neil pulled it off of him. He was panting hard, sweat dripping from his brow and hands shaking slightly.
"Andrew?" Neil questioned, "Yes or no?"
Andrew shifted his eyes to his boyfriend before whispering a quiet, "Yes."
Neil carefully sat them both up fully before gently setting his hand on Andrew's sweaty upper back. As Andrew calmed his breathing, he reached once again for the blanket that only moment's ago he was shoving away. "Why's it so goddamn cold in here?" he grouches, voice slightly trembling.
Neil frowned. It's not even remotely cold in the cabin, let alone with Neil's body heat and a blanket around him. He gazed analytically at Andrew for a moment, noting his flushed cheeks and glassy eyes before guiding his palm to Andrew's forehead. He pushed back his damp hair, wincing a bit when he makes contact with the heat radiating off of him.
"Andrew," he ventured, "You definitely have a fever."
The blond frowned at him, still looking dazed. "No, I don't," he denied.
"Yes, you definitely do," Neil retorted.
Andrew simply glared, before turning and laying back down, this time with his head on the opposite end of the couch with his and Neil's legs tangled together.
Neil sighed and gently maneuvered Andrew's legs so he could stand up, making his way to the bathroom to hopefully find a thermometer.
After some shuffling around, he procured said thermometer and made his way back to the couch where Andrew was still lying prone, with the added addition of furrowed eyebrows and slight frown on his lips.
"Hey," Neil said, "Open your mouth."
Surprisingly, Andrew complied, albeit hesitantly.
While they waited for the thermometer to beep, Neil sat on the floor with his back to the couch, tilting his head sideways to gaze at Andrew's flushed cheeks and pink nose. This time, Andrew simply looked back.
The soft beep drew them both out of their thoughts, and Neil grabbed the thermometer from Andrew's mouth, frowning a bit at the numbers.
"Not bad," he states. "You are a bit warm though: 100.8" He placed the thermometer on the side table before resuming his position, this time hovering a hand over Andrew's cheek. After receiving a nod, he alternated gently caressing Andrew's face and carding his fingers through his hair.
He was proud, he thought vaguely. Andrew had come so far from the boy he was when they first met. Although he still held the same blank expression around others, he'd eventually allowed Neil into his heart. Not to say that there still weren't bad days, of course, when Andrew couldn't bear the thought of Neil touching him, but they were few and far between. The guarded, emotionless Andrew would have never allowed Neil (or anyone else for that matter) to see him while he felt ill, or touch him when he was this vulnerable. As if reading Neil's mind, Andrew's raspy voice mentioned, almost disinterestedly, "I don't like being sick."
Neil could've sworn he felt his heart break.
"I know, 'Drew," he whispered back, knowing an I'm sorry wouldn't be appreciated. "Do you want to take some medicine? You'll have to eat something first."
Andrew hummed a vague affirmation, prompting Neil to heat up some canned soup in the kitchen. He hoped it would be easy on Andrews stomach; he didn't want him to have to vomit while he already didn't feel great.
"Here," he said, handing Andrew the bowl after he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position.
"Thank you," Andrew responded, once again proving he can be an appreciative, feeling human.
Neil settled back down on his side of the couch, turning his attention back to the television but periodically glancing over at his boyfriend as he slowly made his way through the soup.
Some time later, after the soup was finished and Andrew had taken his medicine, Neil suggested they move back to the bedroom so Andrew could sleep off some of his sickness. This received a piercing stare from Andrew, coupled with a mumbled, "You were the one who made me move out here in the first place."
Nevertheless, Andrew complied, and proceeded to bury himself underneath the comforter once again. Neil climbed in beside him, turning on their bedside lamp and grabbing his book and Andrew curled up with his back pressed against the length of Neil's leg.
There they remained for about an hour, before Andrew shot up yet again. This time, it wasn't the heat that felt like it was suffocating him, but the overwhelming feeling of nausea that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Neil looked worriedly up from his book to see Andrew with his hand clamped tightly around his mouth and a fearful look in his amber eyes.
Knowing what was about to happen, he jumped out of bed and quickly ushered Andrew to the bathroom just in time for him to vomit up the meager contents of his stomach. Neil kneeled next to him as he coughed, keeping his distance but sitting close enough to where Andrew could reach him if he needed. Andrew gripped the bowl with a white-knuckled grip, dry heaving into the bowl once the soup and coffee had been expelled from his system. A few involuntary, burning tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, which he brushed away with a trembling hand. Finally, jaw clenched, he sat back with his spine against the wall and wrapped his arms around himself in an almost child-like display of vulnerability.
"Andrew?" Neil asked softly, "You okay?"
The tears that had slipped out from the force of his heaving came slowly back. Andrew didn't cry out, didn't sob, but instead simply sat there, shaking with his eyes squeezed shut and chin slightly wobbling.
"Andrew," Neil tries again, "Yes or no?"
Andrew opened his itchy, watery eyes and choked out a small, somewhat unexpected "yes" before unwrapping his arms from his stomach and shifting to lay his body down on the cool tile. He rested his head in Neil's lap, who brushed away his tears and whispered soothing words to him while he calmed his body down.
Once the shaking subsided, Andrew slowly sat up, eyes slightly unfocused. "Neil," he coughed out, "Can you get me a clean shirt?"
His was covered in a disgusting mix of fever-sweat, tears, and a bit of vomit that had reached him. Neil stood up, grabbing one of his shirts and a damp cloth before returning to kneel next to a dazed Andrew.
"Do you want help taking your shirt off?" Neil asked, receiving a shake of Andrew's head. He watched as Andrew painstakingly lifted his arms to remove his damp shirt from his overheated body.
"Here," he said once Andrew had succeeded in changing his clothes, "Can I wipe your face and neck with this cloth?" This time, Andrew agreed, sighing contentedly as Neil drew the cool fabric over his skin.
After Andrew had recovered as much as he could, they moved back to bed, Neil placing a trashcan on the floor within Andrew's reach and grabbing the thermometer to check his temperature once again.
It was higher, this time, and Neil frowned before grabbing the cloth, rewetting it, and gently setting it on Andrew's forehead, who squeezed his eyes shut and shivered in response.
Neil sat there until the cloth had warmed from Andrew's temperature. Then, after depositing it in the bathroom, he kneeled down to Andrew's level and asked, "Do you want me to stay or leave?"
Puffy eyelids opened slowly. Andrew deliberated for a moment, before whispering a scratchy "Stay."
Neil grinned. Andrew seemed to have let his guard down, finally letting himself receive the comfort he craved. Neil climbed carefully into bed, deliberately making sure not to jostle his boyfriend too much as he lay down next to him.
Andrew rolled over, dragging his aching body to latch on to Neil. His hands fisted in the material of his shirt, and he pushed his overheated face into the curve of Neil's neck. Neil could feel Andrew's slightly congested breath on his skin as he breathed hot air from his mouth. He was still somewhat trembling, and Neil wrapped his arms around his shaking frame, gently dragging his hand up and down Andrew's back in a repetitive, soothing motion.
Andrew dozed off, reveling in this comfort he was allowed to have. He knew tomorrow he'd probably feel just as awful, but he also knew Neil would still be there, giving him soft touches and kind words. He helped relieve the pain, if only a little, and Andrew slept deeply with the knowledge that they've grown together, and he would always feel safe with Neil around.