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“Okay, now this is just getting ridiculous,” Varian says, glaring up at Nuru and Hugo. Nuru looks a little sympathetic, but Hugo’s face is entirely unrepentant. He aggressively tucks the blanket in around Varian, pausing to fluff his pillows. Varian gives Nuru his very best what the fuck do you two think you are doing face, but she just shrugs in response, shoving a bowl of chicken soup into his hands.
“What’s ridiculous is you running around in the dead of winter with pneumonia,” Hugo says, throwing another blanket on the bed for good measure. Varian kind of feels like he’s going to overheat and die, but doesn’t dare say that to Hugo. He’ll probably assume it’s “the raging fever” (Hugo’s words, not Varian’s) and drag him to the doctor again. Or drag the doctor here, more likely, which Varian does not want to happen. He’s fine without some hack physician poking and prodding at him.
“It’s a cold ,” Varian says, exasperated, shoving the bowl back at Nuru. “A small, annoying cold , not pneumonia, not anything serious.”
“Yet,” Nuru says, because she likes to watch Varian suffer.
“Yet!” Hugo repeats, throwing his hands up in the air. “It starts with a cold but then next thing you know your lungs are filling up with fluid and you’re drowning in your own mucus.”
“Ew,” Yong says, distantly from the other room. Varian glares in his direction. No one is on his side today.
“Hugo, I’m fine ,” Varian groans. “A little sweaty, maybe a bit of a sore throat, but fine .”
“Wrong answer,” Hugo says. “Now you’re quarantined for the rest of the week.”
Varian grabs the blanket and rolls over, successfully cocooning himself from his terrible, terrible friends. He buries his head under the pillow and pretends they don’t exist. Which lasts for about five seconds before Hugo and Nuru are loudly arguing over him.
“What do you mean this is store-bought soup!”
“Do I look like I know how to make soup, Hugo? Do I?”
“Everyone knows how to make soup, what kind of a country are you from.”
“A) That’s racist. B) You can go catch a chicken, pull all of its feathers out, cook it, chop it up, put it in a soup and give it to Varian.”
“Maybe I will.”
“Can you two please shut up ,” Varian says into his mattress, but it comes out garbled through the layers of bedding.
Nuru pulls the pillow off his head. “Hugo, will you shut up if Varian eats his soup?”
Hugo glares at the store-bought soup as if it personally came into his house and killed his puppy, but relents. “Fine.” He crosses his arms.
Nuru turns back to Varian, smiling sweetly. “Yes, we’ll shut up if you eat your soup.”
Varian grabs the bowl out of her hands, shoveling the store-bought offense to humanity into his mouth. It tastes barely edible. Varian’s pretty sure Nuru found it in the woods, not a store. “I did not ask to be pampered like this,” he says, in between mouthfuls, glaring at his two best friends.
Nuru shrugs carelessly, flopping down on the bed next to him. “Sucks to be you, Alchemist.” She picks up a book on the nightstand, leafing through it disinterestedly. “I’m not getting between Hugo and his hysteria, so deal with it.”
“I’m not being hyster-”
“ Yes, you are ,” Varian and Nuru say in the same voice, twin disappointed stares.
“Which side are you on anyway?” Hugo says to Nuru, dramatically falling across the foot of the bed.
“Whichever side is winning.”
“Winning what ?” Varian groans, shoving the now-empty bowl into Hugo’s hands.
Nuru just smiles. It’s a little terrifying, to be honest. “Oh, you know.”
“We really don’t,” Hugo says, but he's grinning like maybe he does. Whatever, at least that vein in his temple has stopped visibly throbbing.
“You guys make everything a competition,” Varian complains. “I want new friends.”
“Pffffft, no you don't.” Hugo gets up to dispose of the bowl.
“You looove us,” Nuru says, voice pitched an octave higher than usual. She’s sitting so close her cheek is pressed into his shoulder. For all that she’s fussed at him for being gross and contagious, she seems awfully comfortable with laying on the same bed as him.
Clearly, Hugo feels the same, climbing onto the other side of the bed and shoving both Varian and Nuru over to make room, which doesn’t do much for him anyway because the bed’s so fucking small that Varian ends up with Nuru pressed under his arm and Hugo’s hip jamming into his shoulder.
Varian thanks a bunch of gods he doesn’t believe in that Yong is in lab experimenting and not doing...whatever Hugo and Nuru are. “Why are you two so hot,” he mutters.
“The gods gifted me with naturally stunning looks, I can’t help it,” Hugo says automatically.
“Not what I meant,” Varian mumbles, rolling his eyes for like the four millionth time that day.
Nuru kicks at his shin. “Go to sleep, dumbass.”
“Stop calling the sick person dumbass,” Varian shoots back.
“So you are sick.” Hugo pokes him in the shoulder. “I knew it .”
“Fuck you.” Varian rolls over, causing his friends to squawk indigently as his elbows and legs get all tangled up in their limbs. He’s pretty sure he almost takes Nuru’s eye out, but it’s worth it as he finally finds a comfy position, arm thrown over Hugo’s chest, legs tangled between Nuru’s. Hugo huffs in annoyance, but pats his back consolingly as Varian sniffs. Nuru jabs at his ribs in retaliation for his ruthless attack on her face a second ago, but settles behind him, face tucked between his shoulder blades.
“This is nice,” Varian mutters. It’s not really: the combination of the fever and cuddling with two people is a little too warm for comfort, his throat feels like he’s been gargling rocks, and he still kind of can’t breathe, but Hugo starts running his fingers through his hair and Nuru’s breath puffs comfortingly against his neck.
As his eyes slip shut, he blearily hears Nuru say something sharp to Hugo, who retaliates light-heartedly, but it’s lost in that moment between being awake and asleep. Varian lets out a long breath and finally falls asleep.