Work Text:
Mingjue stands in front of the mirror on the back side of the bedroom door and holds up two flannel shirts, switching back and forth between the two, evaluating their relative merits.
“They’re the same shirts!” Jiang Cheng croaks before giving in to another coughing fit.
Mingjue looks over his shoulder and glares at Jiang Cheng for the slight to his wardrobe, but his look quickly turns to one of alarm as Jiang Cheng keeps coughing.
“My heart, can I—?”
Jiang Cheng waves at the water bottle on his nightstand, and Mingjue tosses the shirts on the bench at the foot of their bed and hustles to his husband’s side with the water.
“I should stay here,” Mingjue says as Jiang Cheng drinks.
“No,” Jiang Cheng rasps as soon as he can breathe a bit easier. “Zixuan’s bringing some soup along when he drops off Jin Ling. I need you to fill in as chaperone.”
“I don’t know, A-Cheng, I really think I should stay and take care of you. Maybe Zixuan can go—“
Jiang Cheng shakes his head and winces. Mingjue grabs the bottle of ibuprofen from the nightstand and shakes a few tablets into Jiang Cheng’s palm. Jiang Cheng washes them down and flops back against his pillows, face pinched and pale.
“He’s taking Mother to the doctor for a check up on her foot thing and then to her mahjong club. You could trade, I guess, but—“
“No!” Mingjue shudders. “No, I’ll take the kids.” He rests the back of his hand against Jiang Cheng’s forehead. His fever broke the night before, but Jiang Cheng is still weak as a kitten. “I just wish someone were here to take care of you.”
“You’re just afraid of Ms. Chen,” Jiang Cheng says, offering Mingjue a weak grin.
“She offered to find me an algebra tutor after Jingyi’s conference! She thinks I’m a moron!”
“She does not.” Jiang Cheng pats around until he finds Mingjue’s hand. “Celia’s face always looks like that, has done ever since middle school.”
“She sent me an email with the code of conduct, annotated and highlighted! As if I don’t know how kids are supposed to behave!”
“She sends that to every chaperone, before every field trip. She just bcc’s everyone because a couple years ago, Jin Chan’s stupid parents used the parent email list in their MLM. She trusts you. I trust you. Jingyi trusts you.”
Jiang Cheng sneezes, yawns, and coughs at the same time, and honestly, if he didn’t sound like death, Mingjue would be dead from the cutest look of betrayal and hurt Jiang Cheng wore. He helps Jiang Cheng drink a bit more water before fluffing the pillows and easing Jiang Cheng into a more comfortable position.
“Thanks,” Jiang Cheng wheezes. “Just be confident,” he says as his eyes drift shut. “An’ wear the green shirt.”
Mingjue glances down at the shirts. They’re both green.
“Left one,” Jiang Cheng says around another yawn. “Is the best.”
Mingjue stares down at Jiang Cheng, helplessly fond of this ridiculous human now drooling on his pillow. He bends forward to kiss his forehead, then picks up the shirt Jiang Cheng indicated. Its pine green did make him feel better than the slightly more olive tone of the other shirt. He buttons the shirt and tucks the tails into his black chinos. He smooths a hand over the soft flannel and straightens up, squaring his shoulders.
Confidence.
He’s gonna chaperone the crap out of this field trip.