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Arthur was never ill. Ne-ver. He never caught any flu, he never had any fever, he never coughed even once and he never needed to stay in bed. All of that changed after one difficult day under the rain, after he forgot his umbrella, before he discovered that he didn't have the key of his and the Elric brothers' shared apartment.
He still thought that Edward and Alphonse were in the house, so he knocked for around ten minutes, sprouting explitives that would have made sailors proud. When Edward and Alphonse saw him, Arthur fell, as most of his remaining energy had been used to lash out at a door.
So here he was, on a bed, a heavy cover that made him feel strapped to a hospital table, and a towel on his head. Alphonse decided the correct thing to do was to leave him alone, even if he barely had the energy to lash out at the two.
It was an effort to keep his eyes open, so he just listened, to the satisfying 'clang' of Edward's leg on the ground. Edward rarely showed his fear much like Arthur rarely cursed.
This time was special. Edward sat beside him, not saying a word, instead flapping what seemed to be a book. Then Edward gasped.
_ Oh, sh*t! Al!
_ Yes brother?
_ Get straight to a doctor! Most of these symptoms show that he's dying!
First, Arthur was NOT in the mood to be in a loud place, his headache was already enough to deal with, thanks. And Edward? If he could, he would roll his eyes, and shake his head. He knew that Edward was worried, but he exaggerated.
_ Oh no! I'll call one!
And here Arthur expected that Alphonse had a shred of common sense. The loud clatter of the armor echoing in the corridors made him groan in displeasure. Which Edward took as a sign of pain.
_ Don't worry, Arthur. You won't die on our watch.
The sheer amount of love in these words made his heart flutter softly, even if he wanted to smash Edward too. A soft cloth caressed his cheek, and for once, Arthur liked the fact that Edward wore gloves, because he wasn't sure he'd like to feel metal or skin in right now. He breathed contently in this small moment of peace
_ You hungry?
The hand let go a bit too fast to his taste, but he hummed in response.
_ Alright, I'm getting you soup.
Oh no. Not. Soup. He was not fond of hot liquids, be it tea or coffee. He liked cold foods, cold vegetables. He hated anything that was warm or whatever.
Edward was already gone, and it was for the better because Arthur groaned loudly. He didn't have enough strength to stand on his elbows, and any attempt made him feel queasy. He huffed, and his eyes opened just a bit to catch the familiar glimmer of red.
He attempted a smile, but it came as a grimace. His throat suddenly felt very dry, and he longed for water, more than the bloody, steaming SOUP. He swore that if Edward ever was ill, he'd make him drink milk as much as possible, maybe even forcefully.
His nose twitched with the familiar scent of canned food, and he wanted to spit at Edward. If it was one of these horrible cans he kept since no one knew how long, and that tasted like utter crap.
He heard Edward, and he opened an eyelid, closing quickly. Why did Edward need to switch on the light? He was sure they didn't need it. He could guess that Edward was twirling a spoon or a fork within a mess of disgusting liquid.
_ Arthur... Say 'ah'.
Forgoing his previous discomfort, he glared openly at him. The sight of an Edward who was laughing under his sleeve almost gave him the energy to stand and strike as hard as he could, though he knew none of the hits would reach the smug alchemist. Then, his attention was on the steaming plate and he made a grimace.
_ I don't... Soup-
He stopped talking as it brought a massive headache and he coughed. His throat felt raw, as if it was a desert now. He hated being sick. Edward was panicked, but his hand was a nice way to focus on something else.
_ I know you hate it. I know... But we don't really have the time to get anything better. And the book said that soup was a good thing for fevers.
Arthur looked strangely at Edward before it clicked in his mind. Alphonse was gullible at times, and he was most likely extremely scared for his life. It would give Edward the opportunity to take care of him without Alphonse interfering between the two.
Or Edward was really scared, made Alphonse call a doctor, and decided to treat one of the many symptoms of whatever rare disease he found within these stupid books. It was more likely because Edward wasn't that cunning nor was he such a bold liar. And neither would he show so much fear if it was just a simple flu.
_ Anyway, open your mouth, he said once more, holding a wooden spoon closer to his mouth.
Edward had that tone. He wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Suddenly, Arthur pictured Edward pinching his nose like a kid to make him eat. He'd vomit after. The spoon burned, it was too fast, and he chocked. He spat but it was bad thing to do in front of a over worried boyfriend.
_ Oh, sh*t, Arthur are you okay?! I'm sorry...
Arthur was not someone who was angered easily, but right now, he felt like sending the blonde flying. He was getting rather tired by now with Edward's failed attempts to ease his pain.
_ Sorry. I'll make sure I'm more careful this time. So, open for another spoon?
With the face of someone already prepared to die, he opened mechanically his mouth, then closed it. Edward did it great this time. Now the only thing that Arthur didn't like about his situation as being fed was the food.
He swallowed the fluid, swearing that he'd find the person who invented the canned soup and then smash him to the ground. Slimy, disgusting, horrible. And warm too... Ugh! Edward used the spoon to take away some that was dripping around his lips. He felt like a baby now.
And one spoon after the other, he gulped the soup under the attentive watch of his boyfriend, who sported a happier smile, though there was worry within his golden irises. And before long, the stuff was away. He sighed in relief.
He'd never take anything like it if he could help it. And for that, he will make Edward drink as much quantity as he did for milk.
A soft gloved hand drifted on his forehead, moving away some of his wet hair tenderly. Arthur felt himself smile, and his previous anger faded for simple contentment.
_ Stay with me, Arthur.
He nodded, eyes closed.
_ Yeah...
_ I won't let you die, I promise.
_ I know. Same...
_ Please, don't fall asleep.
_ I'm sure it's not something I can control, Ed, he sighed.
_ The book said-
_ Ed. Burn. That. Stuff, he said tiredly.
_ Wait what! Edward exclaimed, alarmed.
_ Ed! Alphonse's armor clattered on the wood, followed by someone else.
Well, finally, a competent individual. The doctor quickly ran the check-up, seeing his temperature, and his throat. From under the covers, he managed to catch his heartbeat.
The cold metal made him shudder, and once more Edward took it as a bad sign. As the doctor was nodding, Edward metaphorically pounced on him.
_ So, what is the disease? Is it cancer? Leukaemia?
_ Calm down, young boy. It's nothing but a cold. Don't worry about your friend, he'll need to stay in bed for a few more days, he just has to take it easy.
_ But are you sure?
_ There are for more things that could have told me that he had any of these dangerous diseases. And believe me, within a few days, he'll be kicking again.
_ His ass, Arthur muttered too lowly to be heard.
_ So stop worrying. He will be fine.
Edward's shoulder visibly sagged with relief, and he went straight to him again, sitting by his side, smiling brighter. Laying a soft kiss on his lips, his wish to kick his ass faded.
_ Ah... You, you shouldn't kiss him, else you'll be ill too.
The doctor was obviously embarrassed by the open display of affection between the two. It was not everyday that you saw two boys exchange a kiss. Arthur believed in God, Edward didn't. They were all the same beneath that sky though.
And much like the doctor said, Arthur was once more standing a few days later. He walked inside the kitchen, opening every single drawer, trying to find any canned food.
He would never see that stuff if he could help it. Strong arms drew him against an equally strong chest and stopped in his necessary quest for public safety. Edward laid his head on his shoulder, liking quite a lot the fact that Arthur was less tall than him. He kissed him on the cheek.
_ Now, I can kiss you without worrying about any stupid flu.
_ Yeah sure, Arthur escaped the embrace to Edward's obvious displeasure.
He smiled in response.
_ You better hope you don't get any flu next time Ed, or I'll make sure to give you milk. After all, you might need some to grow a bit, he teased.
Edward huffed, crossing his arms on his chest.
_ It's not as if you drinking some will give you any chance, sweetie.
_ I love you too Ed... He grumbled.
Arthur walked to Edward, putting his arms around his neck. The blonde placed his arms on his mid back, keeping him in a tight hold.
_ I was scared you know...
_ I could see that, said Arthur, moving so their foreheads touched. You were panicking all over the place.
_ Arthur... He groaned.
_ I am not making fun of you, the other insisted. I can understand how frightening it was... But please, if you have a doubt, call a doctor straight away.
Edward nodded, giving him a peck on the lips that made them smile.
_ It's true for me too, you know, he whispered.
_ What?
_ I missed your kisses so much. It's better now.
Edward was rather smug, but had enough self preservation not to rub it too much. Instead, he initiated another kiss. That one was long, and precious.
Arthur's heart exploded with intense warmth, the familiar pressure of Edward's lips giving him intense bliss. His eyes closed, focusing on what he could feel.
Their heads moved to deepen the kiss, mixing their breath into one, sharing the same heartbeat. Right at that moment, their souls left their bodies and intertwined in unbreakable strings.
Edward, for all his genius, could be so stupid. And Arthur would not have it any other way. He fell in love with an idiot after all.