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"Man, just go home."
"I can't. My roommate's got a thing with some friends and they'll have music and shit." Damien's not sulking. He's not. His throat feels thick and swollen- like he's swallowed glass or some shit and he can practically feel his brain throbbing in his skull.
His roommate's a good one- if Damien did ask, he would shut off the music and have a quiet night instead, but Damien already feels nauseous so he certainly can't stomach the idea of ruining his roommates night as well.
Wiping his red nose on the sleeve of his hoodie, he looks up at Shayne. The blond's arms are folded over his chest, eyebrows furrowed.
"Go to rest at mine for a bit." Shayne offers, holding a hand out. Damien sighs, body heavy with fatigue, and lets Shayne pull him up from where he had collapsed on the sofa. "We're hanging out anyway, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, true."
"So go, shower, nap. I'll wake you up for dinner."
Damien nods, leaning into Shayne's side for a brief moment. "Do you need me to drive you home?"
"Nah. S'okay." Damien sniffs, feeling sweaty and clammy inside his hoodie. "I'll see you later."
"You sure you'll make it? Dramatic bitch."
Damien flips him off as he walks away, sniffing pointedly. Shayne's chuckles follow him out the room.
He trudges to his car, head throbbing and the concrete spinning under his feet.
He can't even remember getting to Shayne’s place, just knows that he dropped his keys twice trying to lock his car, and failed three times in unlocking Shayne's door.
He doesn't shower, body too heavy and limbs too unwieldy, just flops onto Shayne’s bed, messes up his made sheets and buries his sweaty head into one of the pillows. The sheets smell fresh and clean. Damien can't bring himself to mind the lack of cat hair.
He doesn't remember falling asleep, but when he next opens his eyes, the whole room is dark. Save for the orangy glow of the bedside lamp behind him, Damien cant see a thing. Not that he really tries to focus his bleary eyes. The sheets are warm as he fidgets. He twists and kicks them off his heated skin, still sweating, his head aching.
Then, there's a hand in his hair, pushing it away off his damp forehead.
"Hey, idiot. Sit up for me, let's get some drugs into you." Shayne's teasing, gentle tone sounds cotton woolly in his ears but he complies, propping himself up on his elbows. The hand strokes down his cheek, cupping his chin for a brief moment before cradling the back of his head. A cool glass bumps his lips and Damien doesn't really think anything beyond cold, and opens his mouth, swallowing the orange juice.
"Got some tylenol here, Dee. It'll bring your temperature down." Shayne says, poking the tablets into Damien’s mouth. He hums absentmindedly, head lolling in Shayne's grip, and accepts more juice to swallow them.
He hears Shayne sigh where he's sat somewhere beside him, and he leans into him. Shayne chuckles, guiding Damien down until his head is on Shayne’s lap and he's curled around him. His fingers are cool where they run through Damien's hair and down his back, and he presses his face against Shayne’s stomach.
"You can't sleep like this, sweetheart. C'mon, get out of those jeans."
He protests weakly, letting Shayne push him onto his back and pop the button to his jeans. He manages to lift his hips enough to help Shayne get the jeans down his thighs, but Damien flops back onto the bed, kicking his foot every so often to help.
"You're a little shit, Haas. Get up this bed." Shayne scolds once his jeans are off completely. Grinning up at him, eyes closed, Damien's shuffles around until his head is on the pillow. "You're lucky you're cute. Piece of fuckin' work."
Then, Shayne’s climbing into bed beside him, having shucked his own jeans off so his bare legs are brushing Damien’s as he makes a space for himself against Damien’s side. "Drink some more. Then I'll let you go back to sleep."
"You don't let me do anything." Damien retorts weakly, propping his head up on Shayne’s shoulder. He makes no move to take the proffered glass, just tips his chin up.
"Yeah, sure I don't." Shayne's rolling his eyes, Damien can tell, but he still feels icky and congested, so he lets Shayne tip the glass until it's empty. "You hungry? I have soup n' stuff."
Damien shakes his head, shoving his face into the crook of Shayne's neck. He can't really breath properly, but Shayne smells of sweated off deodorant and Damien's spinning brain likes that. His body relaxes against the warm length of Shayne’s, sighing as Shayne’s arm wraps around his shoulders. "Alright, well, you need to eat eventually."
He grumbles, feeling Shayne’s chuckle. "Yeah, I know. Get some sleep now, you big baby."
Shayne's hand finds its way into his hair again. Damien hums, cuddling closer, hooking an arm and leg around Shayne. He can feel himself drifting already, lulled by the comforting thump of Shayne’s heartbeat under his ear. Content to be held, Damien rubs his face against the soft material of Shayne’s shirt, and sinks, boneless, into the bed.
It might be the low- grade fever, or just wishful thinking, but Damien feels Shayne press a kiss to the top of his head, arms wrapping tighter around him.