Work Text:
Wen Qing ignores the knock the first time she hears it; she actually believes it might just have been her imagination. But when there is another knock against her door again within a minute, Wen Qing had to look up from her book.
Her roommate never knocks.
Wen Qing gets up from her desk and opens her bedroom door. She doesn’t notice anyone at first until she sees the small child.
Wen Qing is not unfamiliar with Jin Ling, the grouchy nephew of her even grumpier roommate. Jiang Cheng babysits enough for him to be a pretty memorable staple in their apartment. Jin Ling is not a toddler by any means; he is just about to enter 2nd grade. Jiang Cheng usually does a good job at keeping him occupied.
“Aren’t you a little too young to be unsupervised?” she asks, a bit confusedly.
“Aren’t you a bit old to be playing by yourself,” the kid answers her. Wen Qing lifts an eyebrow at the kid and leans on her door frame.
He’s as snarky as ever.
“Do you need anything? I have to study.” Wen Qing cuts to the chase, no use talking in circles. And she really does have a lot of work to do. Wen Qing is surprised at how the little boy deflates slightly at her question, before looking up at her. His eyes are really wide and surprisingly angry.
“Jiujiu looks really bad,” Jin Ling tells her. Wen Qing tilts her head at him. From the glimpses that she had seen of him this week, Jiang Cheng hadn’t looked anything out of the ordinary. Besides they were just roommates, a situational companionship you can call it.
Jiang Cheng hadn’t even known her to begin with; he had leased the apartment with his brother until Wei Ying (surprise surprise) dipped on him to move in with his other friend in a nicer, warmer apartment. And having already signed the lease, Jiang Cheng needed back up ASAP. Wei Ying of course couldn’t not help his brother, so through the mutual friendship of Wei Ying, she ended up here.
When Jiang Cheng had first met her, she could tell that he was a prude. His eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head at the notion of sharing an apartment with a girl. But she was finishing her residency at the nearby hospital, he was in his third year of his Master's program. They were adults, and so she believed that their companionship could be handled in an adult manner. Besides, the line of roommates had always stayed solidly unmovable. They were just roommates, perfected the schedule of bumping into each other the least amount of times as possible. And alright, in the past half a year of sharing an apartment with Jiang Cheng, she knows how kind he can be in comparison to his grumpiness and that he’s a good cook and likes his personal space. She knows him enough to be borderline friends but they were roommates first and that was all that they could be–
“Can you go help jiujiu, he says you’re a doctor anyways.” Jin Ling interrupts, looking at her.
“I’m not done with my residency yet,” Wen Qing supplies even as she follows the kid’s footsteps down the short hall.
“It’s good enough,” Jin Ling says, as they enter the kitchen. Wen Qing keeps an eye on the child as he pushes the small stepping stool close to the counter and climbs up to the cabinets.
“What are you trying to make,” Wen Qing realizes she should have asked sooner, when the child messily rifles through the open cabinet of spices.
“Uncle wanted tea,” Jin Ling replies as he continues pushing and messing the spice cabinet that most definitely did not have tea.
“How about you pick the mug out for your uncle, I’ll get the tea.” Wen Qing tells Jin Ling, hoping that she salvages the mess of the cabinet that Jin Ling had already made. The child seems to contemplate for a moment before climbing down. When he’s on the floor again, Jin Ling goes to the dishwasher to look for his Uncle’s iconic lotus purple mug. Seeing the small child occupied, Wen Qing hurriedly fixes the things moved around in the spice cabinet before going to the adjacent cabinet to get a chamomile tea bag. She checks the electric kettle and is happy that it is full. Wen Qing turns just in time to see Jin Ling come up beside her and slam the mug down on the counter. Wen Qing doesn’t try to hide the snort that passes her lips, but she makes the tea without any other words exchanged.
When she’s finished, Wen Qing opts to carry it instead of giving it to Jin Ling, who’s prior slamming of the mug on the counter was an action that mildly worried her. They walk together down the short hallway and Jin Ling pushes open Jiang Cheng’s bedroom door.
The cough that greets both of their ears is harsh, one of the worst that she’s heard in a while.
Wen Qing catches the frown on the child's face, clearly worried. She sees the familiar resemblance between her roommate when Jin Ling frowns. Jiang Cheng was similar to how she had been before, hunched over his desk and papers spilled about. He’s holding his head slightly under the desk light. Even though Jin Ling is getting bigger, he climbs into his Uncle’s lap. Wen Qing has never seen Jiang Cheng receive any kind of affection well, but he surprisingly doesn’t kick the kid off like she expects. Instead, he shifts Jin Ling on his lap and pulls his hand away from his head. He gives the kid a soft ruffle of his hair.
Wen Qing realizes she’s been watching their interaction a bit too long and goes to Jiang Cheng’s desk. She places the mug down on the first empty spot that she sees, by his laptop. Jiang Cheng’s truly surprised then, and he turns to look at the deliverer of his mug.
“Wen Qing,” Jiang Cheng acknowledges. Jin Ling shifts in Jiang Cheng’s lap, letting his legs swing.
“I made you tea,” Jin Ling tells his Uncle. Wen Qing doesn’t correct him. Jiang Cheng pulls his eyes away from Wen Qing to look down at Jin Ling, giving the child a half smile.
“Drink it while it’s still hot,” Wen Qing reminds. She doesn’t stay to hear anything else from him.
~
The rest of the afternoon passes by with Wen Qing in the company of herself once more. Though it is a bit harder to concentrate on her work, after seeing how tired Jiang Cheng looked.
The apartment walls are thin, so even though she’s not by the doorway, she can still hear the short exchange between Jiang Cheng and his sister later in the evening.
“...it’s fine. I’m just tired…”
Wen Qing knows that Jiang Yanli is surely not an idiot and Jiang Cheng’s voice sounded hoarse to anyone who had ears. There’s another soft exchange and Jiang Cheng’s blatant denial before the front door closes with a soft click. Wen Qing thinks it's okay to come to the living room when the apartment has returned to the quiet that it has always been between them.
Wen Qing walks into the living room, catching Jiang Cheng’s back before she sees him. She walks around the small couch that they have.
Tired, is an under exaggeration, Wen Qing thinks as she looks at him. Jiang Cheng is leaning on the arm of the couch, hand rubbing at his temple delicately. There’s a light unnatural flush on his cheek. Wen Qing blinks at him when he coughs harshly into his elbow, still not noticing her presence.
“Why don’t you go lay down?” Wen Qing suggests quietly. Jiang Cheng hums at her. She sees him attempt to stand up. But before he can get off the couch, there’s already discomfort. Jiang Cheng furrows his eyebrows and squeeze his eyes shut at the slightest movement. At the sight Wen Qing quickly sits down on the couch, holding his arm to steady him.
“Sorry, my head just hurts—”
“Don’t apologize,” Wen Qing cuts him off and nudges the hand that was holding his temple away to feel his temperature. His skin is hot under her touch, just as she suspected. When she pulls her hand away, Jiang Cheng blinks sleepily at her.
“Lay down on the couch for a little bit,” Wen Qing commands. He doesn’t so much as complain when she helps him lay down on one of the throw pillows that they have lying around. Wen Qing watches as he curls into himself almost immediately, eyes squeezed in an attempt to rid the headache that he had. Wen Qing holds back a tsk and simply gets up to do what she needs to do.
~
Wen Qing is not a cook by any means; she got through most of college with various flavors of instant ramen. But when it came to light meals for the stomach, she knew a few things here and there. With the warm congee simmering on the stove, Wen Qing grabs some medicine and a thermometer to check Jiang Cheng’s temperature for sure. For the few minutes that she spends making rounds in the apartment, Jiang Cheng seemed to have fallen into a light sleep. She picks a blanket from her room to drape over his curled form when she returns.
Even though Jiang Cheng’s face is usually set in a scowl, he looks so much more at peace when he is asleep. It’s a nice change that Wen Qing notices. She gets up from the couch to tend to the pot on the stove, to avoid any other contending thoughts.
When Jiang Cheng opens his eyes again, it is to a coolness on his head. The afternoon light has left for a darker night. Though the apartment is warm and bright with the living room lights turned on. Jiang Cheng turns to his side. The cold compress falls onto the couch beside his face as Jiang Cheng pushes himself up.
“Oh,”
Wen Qing comes into his vision, sitting on their coffee table. He barely notices her putting the bowl down before there are arms on his shoulder, guiding him to sit up. Jiang Cheng leans back onto the couch cushions as Wen Qing sits back on the table, picking up the bowl of congee and blowing a small spoonful.
Jiang Cheng is surprised when she lifts the spoon to his mouth.
“I...I can feed myself,” Jiang Cheng says, a little surprised.
Wen Qing gives him a look before putting the spoon gently back in the bowl and handing it to him. Jiang Cheng accepts it, breathing in the steam of the warm congee.
“You look a little better than before. But your fever still hasn’t broken,” Wen Qing tells Jiang Cheng, when she sees the red sitting on the edges of his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng apologizes quietly before he slowly spoons a bit of congee into his mouth. Wen Qing waits a bit, noticing his hesitance.
“I shouldn’t be an extra burden to you,”
“You’re not. You’re giving me great practice,” Wen Qing tells him. She’s never been much of a comforter; a lot of her higher ups talked about her cold bedside manner. Though she’s always managed to tread the line of professional quite well.
Jiang Cheng manages a soft huff, though it dissolves into a horrible cough not too soon after. Wen Qing truly tsks at him then, taking the bowl of congee out of his hand before he spills it on himself. When he finally manages to find his breath again, Wen Qing returns the bowl to him.
“Try to get at least half of it down. Then take some medicine,” Wen Qing tells him. She surprises herself at how soft she sounds.
Jiang Cheng nods at her instructions, eating quietly as she tidies up the space around her and in the kitchen. Wen Qing finishes quickly and when she is done she returns to the living room. When she sits down beside Jiang Cheng again, she notices that he’s more than halfway done with the bowl. It seems that he hasn’t lost his appetite.
Wen Qing smiles slightly as she sits down, though she hides her expression as she riffles through the medicine on the coffee table. She sets aside the fever reducers, readying them in her hand as Jiang Cheng puts down the bowl. When he finishes taking them, she helps ease him back to lying down. Before she leaves, Wen Qing checks his temperature once more, laying a gentle hand on his forehead.
“The fever reducers should start kicking in soon,” Wen Qing says, about to move her hand when Jiang Cheng holds onto her wrist gently.
“Your hand is cool,” Jiang Cheng comments, eyes closing to the feeling of her touch. Wen Qing looks away, finding herself at a sudden loss for words.
“Try to sleep it off,” Wen Qing tells him softly. When she looks down at him again, Jiang Cheng's eyes have already fallen shut.
Despite herself, she smiles.