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Bruno groaned as he stumbled into the bathroom. His entire body ached, he could barely breathe, and his head felt full of cotton. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought he fought a wild boar or something. But he knew what was wrong, but he wouldn’t admit it. Not to himself or anyone.
He shivered as the cold tile touched his feet, which only made his body ache more. Fugo was right, invest in heating flooring. He turned the shower on hot and stripped, tossing his clothes in a pile on the floor, before jumping into the shower.
The hot water felt like a dream come true, almost making him feel like nothing was wrong in the first place. Sadly, that wonderful feeling quickly passed as his vision partially blackened and the pressure in his head was at maximum. He had to lean on the cold wall for support and couldn’t move until the pressure lessened and he could see again.
Bruno groaned as he tried to quickly finish his shower. Long showers were a luxury he could rarely afford. He had to push himself to dress quickly and do his hair decent enough that hopefully his team wouldn’t notice.
He zipped his suit and looked at himself in the mirror. He could see bags under his eyes and the paleness to his skin. Bruno tried to stand up and make himself look more presentable—but it sent him into a coughing fit.
No. No, he wasn’t the ‘s’ word. He was fine. All he needed to do was start working and it would all be fine. There wasn’t any time for him to take off anyways.
Lacking the proper strength to make anything, he opted to swing by a coffee place and grab something warm from there. He ignored the barista’s concerned glances and hurried to Libeccio to meet the team.
He walked in five minutes before the meeting started, which was late for him. Bruno took a moment to make sure the tickle in his throat settled before walking to their table. Everyone else had already arrived and had breakfast in front of them.
“Buongiorno,” he spoke in his usual perky tone. He took the open seat between Abbacchio and Mista.
A mumble of ‘good mornings’ came from the team, most of them too sleepy to look up.
“Morning—” Mista started and stopped. He stared at Bruno with an intense look. “You good, Bucciarati?”
Suddenly, four pairs of eyes were on him. Bruno calmly sipped his coffee and set it on the table, sitting straighter.
“I—” he had to clear his throat, “I’m fine, Mista. Just a little tired, that’s all.”
It was clear that no one believed him, including the very investigative ex-cop. He eyed Bruno from head to toe with suspicion in his eyes.
“Bucciarati, if you’re si—”
“I’m not, Narancia,” Bruno cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“Mmhm,” Abbacchio mumbled, still eyeing him.
Bruno snapped his gaze to Abbacchio and regretted it, feeling dizzy. He kept it together as best he could. “Abbacchio, I am fine . Now enough with this, I have a list of duties that we need to complete this week. Polpo’s orders.”
***
After reading through Polpo’s requests and explaining them in detail, Bruno excused himself to the bathroom. He needed a moment of peace. His teammates’ eyes never wavered from his face once, waiting for him to slip up. Fugo especially kept his distance, claiming that he wouldn’t go near Bruno ‘just in case’.
He locked the door to the bathroom and turned on the fan so that it would cover the cough that had been threatening to come out for the past ten minutes. It was a relief—almost. When the tickle was gone again, Bruno looked at himself in the mirror and grimaced. He looked worse than he had at home.
He looked awful.
Sighing, Bruno splashed some water on his face before drying it. Maybe he should keep some foundation on hand for times like this.
Determined to go back out and put his team to work, Bruno unlocked the door and swung it open, only to be met by Abbacchio. He was leaning against the wall and examining his nail.
“Oh, Abbacchio. Sorry to hold up the bathroom. It’s free now.”
“I’m not here for the bathroom.”
Bruno stared at him confused. “Then is there something I can help you with?” The hallway to the bathroom was a dead end.
Abbacchio sighed. “Drop the act, will you? It’s clear that you’re sic—”
“I am not, I’m just tired. Please don’t make me repeat myself again,” irritation slipped into Bruno’s voice.
A look of hurt crossed Abbacchio’s face and he walked up to Bruno, standing very close so that he could whisper. “Bruno…please. It’s clear you’re s—under the weather. You should be at home, resting. We can handle everything for a couple of days.”
Being this close to Abbacchio was intoxicating, especially when he used his first name. He regretted speaking so harshly to him. “I’m sorry, Leone. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
Abbacchio cupped Bruno’s face, but not without a quick glance behind him first. “It’s alright, but please, go home and rest. We’re your team, you can trust us to get the job done.”
The warmth of Abbacchio’s hand was enticing. Bruno found himself leaning into it, daydreaming of cuddling with him while he slept this gross feeling in his body away. But reality came crashing back—as well as the sound of a plate crashing on the ground.
“Narancia, really? Were you raised in a barn?” Fugo yelled.
Bruno sighed and opened his eyes; it wasn’t time for dreaming. “I do trust you all, but that doesn’t mean I can abandon everyone just because I’m not at my best. We should go back before someone notices us.”
Before Bruno could step back, Abbacchio’s hand moved from his cheek to his forehead. He tried to flinch away, but Abbacchio was able to feel the slightly elevated temperature. Bruno glared at the man, instantly annoyed that his subordinate wasn’t listening to him, and had just confirmed what he was hiding from himself.
Abbacchio realized he crossed a line and dropped his hand and took a small step back. “At least let me order you something to eat tonight…”
“Fine,” Bruno huffed, weak to Abbacchio’s caring side. He even saw Abbacchio’s shoulders relax some.
“Thank you,” he sighed and stepped to the side. “You go out first, I follow in a minute, okay?”
Bruno nodded and with a final glance, returned to the table. A waiter was standing by as Narancia swept up a broken plate off the floor. Bruno raised an eyebrow to Fugo, who’d noticed him come back in.
“Narancia attempted to juggle croissants and ended up knocking his plate off the table and dropping food all over the floor.”
“It was funny, you’re just no fun,” Narancia said and stuck his tongue out.
“Yes, sweeping seems like it’s incredibly fun to me.”
Mista chuckled into his espresso.
Bruno said nothing as he reclaimed his seat and took a sip of his cooling coffee. “We will reconvene our meeting when Abbacchio has returned and you’ve finished cleaning, Narancia.”
Narancia looked back at him and nodded. “Gotcha. I’ll make this quick then.”
“Quick and efficient ,” Fugo chimed.
Narancia waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Then quietly under his breath in a mocking tone, “ Quick and efficient .”
Mista did his best to hold in a laugh, but a small squeak came out.
Fugo almost choked on his coffee. “What did you say?”
“Hm? Oh nothing, nothing…” Narancia focused on sweeping.
A wave of fatigue washed over Bruno, and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open despite the coffee. He figured it wouldn’t look too bad if he rested his eyes for a moment. Leaning forward, he rested his head in his hand and almost instantly fell asleep to the sound of Narancia and Fugo bickering.
****
Bruno was on the beach, enjoying the summer sun. It sat high in the sky and warmed everything it touched. Despite his suit, he had a nice tan going on. He watched the blue waves roll to shore and relaxed back into the warm chair—except it wasn’t a chair.
“Don’t fall asleep on me now, Bruno,” Abbacchio chuckled. “I’ll get a weird tan line.”
Bruno sat up and turned around. “Leone—what are you doing? Someone might see us.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“You know we can’t go public, not now anyways.” Bruno chewed on his lip and looked around. They were alone for a moment.
“Are you okay?” Abbacchio asked and touched Bruno’s forehead. “You’re not having sunstroke, are you?”
“I—no, I’m fine, are you ?”
“Bruno…we’ve been together for three years now. Mista is planning our wedding.”
Our wedding ? Bruno glanced down at his left hand and saw a sparkling ring on his finger. Memories rushed back to him, telling the team, dates, being proposed to…how could he have forgotten such wonderful memories?
“Right, our wedding. We agreed in the spring, not too hot or cold.”
Abbacchio grabbed Bruno’s face and kissed his cheek. “Yeah, the spring. You had me worried there for a moment.”
Bruno returned to his previous spot, leaning against Abbacchio. “Maybe I’m having a bit of heatstroke after all. You should shade me from the sun with your perfect body.”
“I could, but I think I have a better idea.”
He couldn’t help his curiosity. “And what’s that?”
Before he realized what was going on, Abbacchio stood and scooped Bruno up. He ran towards the sea with Bruno in his arms.
****
He had to fight his eyes open, but Bruno was able to do it. The first thing he noticed was how dry his mouth was followed by not being able to breathe out of his nose. He sat up and regretted it, apparently, he shouldn’t have moved. Why was he laying down in the first place?
The last thing he remembered was being at Libeccio and now he was back in his bed and out of his suit. Bruno had no recollection of how he arrived back home, and his lovely dream didn’t help him figure it out either. His phone wasn’t by his bed so he couldn’t call anyone to ask.
He swung his legs out of bed, fully intending on searching for his phone. His aching body fought against him, begging him not to leave the comfort of the warm, soft covers. His foot also brushed against a bag that looked incredibly familiar, almost like Abbacchio’s. He’d worry about that later. Bruno had almost convinced himself to stand when the door to his room opened.
“Oh no, don’t you dare get up,” Abbacchio threatened. He had a tray in his hands with soup and tea.
“Abbacchio?” Bruno asked, clearly confused. “How did I end up at home?”
Abbacchio set the tray on the bedside table. “I brought you home. I came out of the bathroom, and you were passed out on the table.”
“Did you…change me out of my suit?” He hoped the answer was yes.
“I did,” Abbacchio said with and. “Now, lay back down, Bruno.” Gently, Abbacchio pushed Bruno back into bed and pulled the blankets back up.
With no fight left in him, Bruno obeyed. He didn’t want to move anymore anyways.
“I have soup from Libeccio. Mista and Narancia dropped it off after I brought you here. Fugo says he won’t come near here until your germ-free for over twenty-four hours.”
Soup sounded wonderful but… “What about Polpo’s orders—” Bruno coughed midsentence.
Quickly, Abbacchio passed Bruno the warm cup of tea. “Fugo says he’s going to make sure the three of them complete everything on the list. He’ll give us updates every night.”
The warm tea was soothing on his scratchy throat. “Three of them? Us?”
“Yeah,” Abbacchio said, smiling slightly. “We all know how you are if someone isn’t around to make sure you stay in bed. So, I offered to watch over you if Fugo made sure the list gets done.” He grabbed the tray from the table. “He agreed right away.”
Bruno wasn’t fully ready to give up just yet. “What if Fugo and Narancia start bickering in the middle of something important?”
“Mista said he’ll either be mediator or, if he can’t solve it, will call me. If you’re awake, then you can talk, but if you’re asleep, I’ll threaten them with waking you up if they don’t stop it.” Abbacchio set the tray on Bruno’s lap. “We have it all covered, don’t worry. I’m also on support here if they need someone to research something.”
There wasn’t another question Bruno could think of, so he let himself be trapped by the tray of food and leaned back against the bed. “Thank you, Leone.” He took a spoonful of soup. He wished he could taste it, it was probably delicious. Still, the warmth from the soup felt amazing on his scratchy throat.
“Thank you for letting us take care of you. Now, is there anything you want me to put on the tv? Or a record maybe?”
“A record sounds wonderful, something soft, please.”
Bruno ate his soup while Abbacchio set the record up and made sure there were extra blankets for Bruno to use. The soft music made him feel relaxed and sleepy.
“Done?” Abbacchio appeared next to the bed.
Bruno nodded sleepily and Abbacchio took the tray. He set it back on the bedside table and grabbed a bottle. “Ready for the medicine?”
The dark liquid seemed to almost have a purple glow around it. Bruno hated taking medicine, especially liquid medicine. “I think I’ll be okay without it.”
Abbacchio raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “Uh-uh.”
Bruno frowned. “I am fine, I just need some rest and then I will be all bett—” His body betrayed him at that moment, sending him into a coughing fit that made his head pound.
“Yep, it’s time for medicine.” He poured the liquid into the cup and held it out to Bruno.
Bruno recoiled slightly from it. “I don’t want it.”
“Really? Bruno, just take it.”
He remembered the way medicine tasted from when his mother forced him to take it. “But it’s disgusting, I don’t want it.”
Abbacchio sighed. “You’re not even going to taste it.” When Bruno didn’t budge, Abbacchio grabbed something from his backpack by the bed. “Will you take it if I give you this chocolate to eat after?”
That caught Bruno’s attention. Abbacchio knew him too well. “You have a deal.”
While Bruno knocked back the disgusting medicine, Abbacchio opened the wrapping and had a piece ready for Bruno to eat. Abbacchio did his best to not roll his eyes out how childish Bruno was about taking medicine, but at least it was handled for now.
Now that Bruno was handled, Abbacchio walked around the bed and folded back the covers to crawl in.
“Abb—Leone, what are you doing?” Bruno asked, face turning red. It’s not like they hadn’t shared a bed many times before, but this felt different for some reason.
“What, scared of sharing a bed with me?” he teased.
“No, but I’m sick. Aren’t you worried about catching it?”
Abbacchio settled into the bed. “No, I have a strong immune system. Also, it’ll be a good test if we’re good partners. They say if we have opposite immune genes that we’re basically soul mates.”
Bruno breathed a chuckle, trying his best not to laugh and start coughing again. “Where did you hear that?”
“Something I read online.”
Bruno decided against rolling his eyes and adjusted himself so he could sleep more. The soup had settled in his stomach and the exhaustion was taking control.
“Do you want to…um, lay on me?” Abbacchio’s voice grew quiet towards the end.
Bruno peeked at him and saw the red spreading down his neck. A chance to cuddle in the middle of the day? All common sense and worry about being caught went out the window. He moved closer and laid on the warm, plump chest. Definitely better than any pillow.
Abbacchio wrapped his arm around Bruno and pulled him just a little bit closer.
As he was drifting, Bruno told Abbacchio about his dream. About how they were going to be married and everyone knew about their relationship. Bruno mumbled that he hoped it could be their future and then fell into a deep sleep.
He missed the soft look on Abbacchio’s face and the complete look of adoration and peace. “Me too,” he’d said into Bruno’s hair, pressing a kiss before closing his eyes as well.
***
A few days later…
“Bucciarati, you never said how you got sick,” Narancia said.
“It was probably someone he met on the street.” Fugo curled his lip, “People are disgusting.”
Bruno was still a little sniffly, but he felt much better. Abbacchio, his perfect caretaker, had managed to not catch anything either. Maybe there was some truth to what he’d said that day.
“I think I do actually,” Bruno said without thinking. “I was out during the rainstorm the other night and it was pretty cold.”
“What were you doing out in the rain that late? I had just finished a movie marathon when it started.” Mista looked at Bruno questioningly.
“I was—” Bruno bit his tongue. He couldn’t say why he was out. Next to him, he felt Abbacchio tense. “Insomnia!” he blurted. “Sometimes I take walks when I can’t sleep. I didn’t know it was going to rain."
“I do that too—but usually it’s ‘cuz I have nightmares. Wait Fugo, don’t you have imsomia?”
“ Insomnia . And yes, I do sometimes. It’s not that uncommon.”
Bruno and Abbacchio shared a quick glance when the topic was changed away from him. He and Abbacchio had a late-night date when they’d been caught in the rain. Instead of running for the nearest awning, Bruno had grabbed him in a heated kiss. Bruno had always wanted to kiss in the rain, and he saw no better chance than that moment.
What he hadn’t expected was the cold walk home which led him to wake up sick a few days later. He didn’t regret it though, kissing in the rain was just as good as his cheesy romantic movies said it was.