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"Scar, the sunset looks really pretty, do you wanna come see?" Grian asked from the window, glancing back with a somewhat sympathetic look on his face at where the terraformer in question was laying on the sofa, looking rather miserable.
"I think I'll stay here, actually," Scar murmured. His voice was quiet and slurred. They'd been in the shopping district to celebrate their dating anniversary, but it wasn't like he'd had anything to drink, so it wasn't from alcohol. Scar didn't drink much in general, anyway.
He'd asked to come home early halfway through their walk down the pathway Beef and Wels had built for the road competition— after all, it was the perfect walkway for a romantic walk —after he'd nearly tripped over his own feet and only didn't fall because Grian had grabbed his arm.
Grian hadn't paid much mind to it at the time, but now he was getting worried.
He frowned. "…you feeling alright?"
Truthfully, Scar felt terrible. His head could easily have been stuffed with wool (because it sure felt like it), he was shivering despite the warm climate of his magical village where they'd gone home to— and yet, pulling the nearby blanket over himself made him feel like he was swimming in lava.
But he decided to keep that to himself and just answered with a quiet, "I'm fine."
Grian might've said something else, he might've accepted his answer and turned back to the window, Scar wasn't too sure. He couldn't really hear, or he wasn't really listening. One of those things.
For a moment, time blurred, and he let his eyes close. He just wanted some rest; he'd made it most of the evening, that was good enough, right? Grian wouldn't be upset with him or anything.
He very nearly managed to fall into a rather restless sleep.
Then he jumped, eyes shooting open, when he felt an alarmingly cold hand on his forehead. He made a quiet noise in the back of his throat as another shiver shook his body, looking up at Grian's face to try and read his expression.
Grian's eyes softened and he flipped his hand over, gently threading his fingers through Scar's hair.
"You're running a fever, no wonder you've been acting weird," Grian said, scratching lightly at his scalp. Scar let his eyes flutter shut once more. He wasn't surprised. "C'mon, sit up, let's get you to bed. Sleeping on the couch isn't good for you."
He wordlessly let Grian maneuver him into a sitting position before being picked up entirely, allowing his cheek to rest against Grian's shirt. Scar could hear his heartbeat, and he let his tired mind focus on that instead of how awful he felt.
Of course he would get sick on their anniversary, of all days.
Before Scar knew it, he was being lowered onto the mattress of the bed, still sitting somewhat upright and propped up against the pillow that had been moved to sit against the wall.
"Let me get a potion," Grian said.
Scar pulled the blanket up to his chest, and he realized just how much he'd ruined this evening. They'd been having a good day, Grian had planned out the whole afternoon to be perfect, then he'd just gone and messed it all up.
But he didn't get a chance to try and apologize, Grian was pressing the lip of a bottle of some pinkish-orange potion to his mouth barely a tic later. He drank it without question, too sleepy to ask what it was, the sweet taste of melon lingering on his tongue. Then he scrunched up his nose at how thick it— so it must've been something mixed with fire resistance. Based on the taste, he'd guess healing.
Whatever it was, he felt the fog in his head clearing up a little.
Grian moved the empty bottle away and leaned in, presumably to press a kiss to his forehead.
Scar gently pushed him away before he managed to do so. Despite how much he would've wanted it, it wasn't a good idea. He explained himself at Grian's mildly hurt expression. "I'm sick, G. I don't want you to get whatever I have, too."
Grian looked a little crestfallen, but reluctantly nodded to show he agreed with Scar's thinking. Then, he seemed to come to a realization, his eyes widening a fraction and shining with joy. Oh, Scar would never grow tired of seeing his happy expression when he got excited about something.
"Stay here," He said, as if Scar was going to be getting up any time soon.
Grian rummaged through his enderchest and pulled out a golden apple, bringing it up to his mouth to take a bite. Scar watched as the different effects began to go into control, little colourful swirls showing up for a few tics as they did so, and Grian turned to walk over to him.
"Now," He said, pausing for dramatic effect, "I can safely give you a kiss."
Golden apples were good for giving you a boost, which is why they were used so often before fights. But even after the initial regeneration and absorption, when they weren't as useful for fighting, they still helped players to continue to stay physically healthy for a while, even if they're in a situation that would likely get them sick.
Most of the hermits used that to help their ill friends get better faster, though, not kiss them.
Not to say that Scar was complaining.
Grian leaned over the bed to brush his hair away from his forehead, and this time Scar hesitantly let Grian gently press his lips to his forehead. Despite his hesitance, he melted nevertheless, sighing contentedly. Grian's hand moved up to hold his cheek, tracing over the jagged scar on his face, as he pulled away.
The contrast of the cold temperature of Grian's hand compared to his own heated skin was pleasant, like drinking an ice cold drink on a sweltering summer's day. He smiled weakly, reaching up to rest his hand on Grian's forearm, gently holding him.
"Sorry," He croaked. Grian blinked.
"Sorry for what?"
"…for ruining our anniversary," He mumbled. Grian cooed softly, petting his hair.
"Oh, Scar, you didn't. You got sick, you can't control that, and I'd rather you feel comfortable than make you go on a date." He said. "We can do that any day."
He crawled over Scar, careful not to crush him, lying down on the other side of the mattress with a bit of space between them. Grian reached down to find his hand, intertwining their fingers.
"Not if we both get sick, we can't," Scar said, but he didn't try to pull his hand away.
"I won't," Grian said. "I would never miss a chance to take care of you."
"Bonding time, whoo," Scar mumbled. Grian huffed out a breath, breaking into giggles and squeezing his hand. Scar let his eyes fall shut, exhaling slowly. The potions he'd drunk earlier were going into effect now, he could feel the discomfort from earlier fading a little. "G'night, G,"
He could hear Grian shifting to get under the covers, then a quiet, "I love you, Scar, goodnight."
He weakly squeezed Grian's hand to say 'I love you' back, his mind already going fuzzy with sleep. He could tell him out loud when they woke up.