Work Text:
Jonathan “Bossman” Sims: I’m not feeling well so I won’t be coming in today. However I still expect all of you to continue the tasks I assigned to you this week and on my desk by the time I return. If you have inquiries of any sort, don’t hesitate to ask me. Do not take this as an opportunity to slack off, you’re still on the clock and I expect you to behave as such.
Tim stared down at his phone as he descended the stairs that led into the archives. The text seemed so simple yet completely out of character for Jon, especially since he opted to use the group chat that Tim, Sasha, and Martin used to plan for their weekly pub night. The only time Jon had interacted with it at all was to decline their numerous invitations to go out or to remind them about deadlines.
“Morning, Tim!” Tim reached the bottom of the staircase and looked up to see Sasha and Martin at their desks, Martin looking much more anxious than usual while Sasha had her feet propped up on her desk much like Tim did on a daily basis. “Looks like we’re on our own today, huh?”
“Looks like it, yeah.” Tim replied as he dropped his bag on the floor and sat on top of his own desk, “But it’s kinda weird that Jon didn’t just show up to work anyway. Like I’ve seen him come into work sick before so isn’t it, I dunno, a bit concerning that he decided to stay home for once?”
“Maybe he just doesn’t want to get us sick?” Martin squeaked, looking lost and anxious without their feral alley cat of a boss.
“If that’s what he wanted then he would’ve just locked himself in his office.” Tim sighed and moved to plop down in his desk chair, spinning aimlessly while he wracked his brain for answers.
Back in Research he’d witnessed Jon coming in decked out in a full winter outfit in the middle of summer because he had a fever dangerous enough to require a hospital visit. There was also a time he and Sasha had to physically force him into a cab home because he decided to go back to work when he was still recovering for pneumonia which he had because he’d gone to work with the flu for two weeks straight. And now suddenly Jon decided to not come into work because he was ‘not feeling well’?
Tim’s brotherly instincts kicked in as he started to think of ways to check in Jon so that he didn’t scare him off. It was obvious to everyone that Jon was never one for concern or open affection, shying away from even the simplest shows of fondness. The reason Tim joked around with him most of the time was because he learned that that was the only way he actually tolerated his hovering.
“-ellooo? Earth to Tim, you in there?” Tim nearly tipped out of his seat when he realized Sasha was essentially right up in his face. “Did you even hear me, Tim?”
“Sorry, Sash. Kinda spaced out there,” Tim chuckled awkwardly.
“Well I said we should still work, Lord knows this place needs as much work as possible, but we should leave around lunch. Give ourselves a half day. I already got Martin to agree.”
At the mention of his name, Martin blushed and ran a hand through his hair, “Yeah, heh. I was actually planning on visiting my mum today so it works out for me.”
Leave work early? “Yeah, sounds like a plan. I had something I needed to do later too.” With all that extra time he could stop by a nearby cafe and buy something substantial for Jon to eat. That man was built like a scarecrow and barely ate anything on a regular day.
“Aww, I was gonna suggest we go to the pub,” Sasha sulked as she walked back to her desk, less than subtly glaring at the towering pile of statements in front of her.
“It’s Wednesday, Sasha.”
“Exactly! Which means there’s going to be no one there, it would’ve been perfect.”
Tim laughed and turned to his own stack of follow ups, “Well, I promise to play hooky with you another week. Maybe we can pull a Sims and just say we’re too sick to come in.”
“Now you’re speaking my language, Mr. Stoker.”
It was bloody cold today. One of the coldest days in the past five years according to the news and the temperature just kept dropping. Jon huffed and attempted to bury himself further into the duvet he dragged from his bed to the living room couch. But his still damp hair and lack of heat in his flat did nothing to stave off the cold.
Taking a shower even though he knew the water heater had been broken for nearly two weeks and that the building’s heating followed soon after with no sign of either fixed any time soon had to be one of Jon’s worst ideas ever. Or at least his most recent worst idea. But he couldn’t help it, his stupid fever had spiked earlier that morning while he tossed and turned in bed and made him feel like his body was made of boiling magma so a cold shower seemed like heaven at the time.
Jon coughed hoarsely into his sleeve and tried to ignore the chills that consumed him the second he got redressed. There wasn’t much he could do in his hellish situation other than wear as many layers as his body could allow and try not to lose the limited amount of heat he’d accumulated in his blanket cocoon. He really should’ve bought a space heater at some point but his stupid past self thought it’d be a waste of money, instead choosing to purchase a brand new fan in anticipation for the record breaking summer heat.
Hindsight really is 20/20.
He had thought about going into work, at least the archives had enough insulation to stave off the harsh winter chill better than his flat. And Martin could bring endless cups of hot tea so he could warm himself from the inside out. But just the thought of dragging himself out of the minimal warmth of his makeshift sanctuary and brave the actual cold of the outside made Jon’s muscle twinge.
With another shudder, Jon sighed and shifted around on his couch trying to find a more comfortable position. As if his situation couldn’t get any worse, his body decided to add in constant body aches as the cherry on top of this disastrous sundae. He really should take some paracetamol for that and the headache that’d been plaguing him ever since he woke up. But he knew it was bad to take medicine on without eating anything and he was pretty sure that his fridge was about as empty as his stomach. God he’d kill for a nice hot bowl of soup right now.
A curt knock at his door startled Jon so badly that he yelped in response, accidentally sending himself into yet another rough coughing fit. As Jon stood up taking his blankets with him, the knocking got more frantic and was soon joined by a muffled voice, “Jon? Jon are you okay? Do you think you can open up or should I use my spare key?”
Once Jon reached the door, he opened it to see Tim fumbling between several plastic bags and his keys. “T-Tim, *coughcough* what are you doing here?”
“Jon!” Tim beamed as he looked up but his smile instantly fell the second he took in Jon’s current state. “Aw boss, you look awful.”
“Thank you, Tim.” Jon said, a scowl creeping its way onto his face. “Did you just come here to scrutinize me or…?”
“Oh, sorry mate. I swung by to make sure you weren’t dying. I even brought some provisions,” Tim held up several plastic bags and scooted forward, hoping to get invited in.
On one hand, Jon was touched and happy that Tim would come over just to check on him and even go so far as to bring him supplies. On the other hand, he really didn’t want Tim to come in and find out that his heating wasn’t working. That’d only make Tim’s fussing even worse and Jon was too tired to put up with it today.
But before he could come up with a final decision, Tim pushed past Jon and walked straight into his flat. “Christ, Jon! It’s freezing in here.” Tim called out, from somewhere in the flat. “I swear I think it’s the same temperature as outside.”
Jon hunched his shoulders as he followed Tim in, trying his hardest to avoid the pitying look on Tim’s face. “U-uh, *ahem* yes it is rather, um, cold in here. The heating hasn’t been… working recently.”
“You’re heating hasn’t been working? For how long?” Even if Jon couldn’t see Tim’s face he could clearly hear the concern bleeding into his voice.
“Uh, not as long as the water heater breaking?” Jon replied timidly.
“You don’t have hot water either? Jon, it’s winter! Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jon shrugged helplessly as his body decided to warm up again, sending an obvious blush across his face. He didn’t want to say anything, he could handle the cold for a bit. And he’d been doing fine, it only got bad when he started getting sick. “I can deal with it on my own,” Jon huffed in response.
“Jon…” he suddenly found himself wrapped up in Tim’s arms, his jacket still cold from the snow outside, “Just because you can deal with it alone doesn’t mean you should. You know that even if you’re our boss now, Sasha and I are still your friends and we’re willing to help you with anything. Hell, it even looked like Martin was close to ditching work to come here and make you a cup of tea.”
“Speaking of, Tim, did you skip the rest of the work day to com-” Jon paused and brought his elbow up to smother a sneeze into his duvet. Tim frowned and looked around for a tissue but was only able to see a toilet roll on the coffee table next to a nearly empty water bottle and a half empty mugs of stone cold tea. Shaking his head, he reached into one of the plastic bags he was holding and produced a brand new box of tissues which Jon gladly took. “Oh, *sniff* thank you, Tim.”
“No problem. I kinda figured you wouldn’t have any, along with anything else that could help you fight this bug.” Tim reached over to Jon and pressed his hand against Jon’s forehead. Even if he was still a bit cold himself, he was instantly able to pick up on how bad Jon’s fever was. “Geez Jon, you’re burning.”
“Hmmm, tha’ feels good... is nice n’ cold,” Jon slurred as he closed his eyes and leaned further into the touch.
Tim watched as he swayed on the spot and moved his hand to Jon’s shoulder to help steady him. Taking one last look around the flat, Tim sighed and steered Jon to the door, making sure to strip Jon of his duvet and drop it on the couch “Come on, you’re not staying here. We’re going back to my flat and you’re not gonna leave until you’re 100% healthy and your flat gets heating and hot water again. I don’t want you staying here if it’s still freezing even if you're feeling better.”
Jon blinked owlishly at Tim and wriggled in his grip, “W-wait, Tim it’s alright I can-”
“Nope! You are coming with me and I can and will carry you to my car if I have to.”
Tim left no room for argument and Jon was secretly happy he didn’t get the chance to resist, “Well, what about my clothes?”
“Don’t worry, I still have a few sets of clothing you left at my flat from when you and Sasha would sleep over. And if you run out then you could just borrow some of mine. I’m sure you’d look absolutely adorable in one of my signature button ups.”
“Tim, regardless of how desperate I get I am not going anywhere near your wardrobe,” Jon smiled as he and Tim descended the stairs into the parking garage and piled into Tim’s car.
The second Tim got in, he started up the car and cranked up the heat, pointing all the vents at Jon who’d started shivering during the small trek from his flat. “I’ll have you know, Jonathan, that I happen to have the best style in the whole archive, nay the entirety of the Institute itself!”
Jon chuckled and coughed lightly as he leaned back in his chair, listening to Tim ramble on about his austere fashion choices as he drove them over to his flat. The buildings outside flew by, blurred by the soft falling snow and passing street lights. Jon closed his eyes at the sight and let the heat of the car and Tim’s happy chatter wash over him. He may still be feeling absolutely awful, but knowing that he was finally being taken far, far away from his cold lonely flat helped clear away all the chill that had settled deep in his bones, instead replacing it with a comforting low hum of warmth.