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Coming back from their little honeymoon trip, both boys were confident that their mothers completely bought their rouse of them having broken up. Pat was a little suspicious that his father didn't totally believe in it, but their families were so eager to return to some sense of normal and calm that he didn't seem to push it. There was something in the quiet moments though that the younger was picking up. In the side glances when they were sitting in the living room and Pat's phone buzzed, or when they were working in the front yard or cleaning the cars and Pat would catch his dad watching him as if he was going to catch him staring at the house next door. He didn't bring up the legacy talks as much, not since their awkward conversation about the play, but the pressure felt even heavier. He was almost sure his father was in touch with the coaches to make sure he was going to practice and all of his classes.
He had mentioned it to Pran during one of their rooftop conversations, but he was quick to assure that it would pass. He was still his father's oldest and only son, the one who helped out at the equipment warehouse when they needed an extra set of hands on the weekends. He wagered if he gave it a few months then things would really smooth down. Until then they just had to be extra careful when they were both home and savor what time they could at the dorms. With Pa's help and their friends it was easier on campus, but at home it was harder. Pa could only run so much interference before it got questionable, so Pat told her to rest a little easier when they were home. He could shoulder it.
"Pat," his father called from the living room, stopping Pat right before he hit the stairs.
"Yeah, Papa?" he asked, coming to the archway and leaning against the frame with one hand as he looked at him.
"This weekend we'll be short handed, come home early Friday so you can help out. Saturday morning is the incoming truck," his father said. "We'll be getting more than usual for an upcoming job."
Internally Pat winced, he had been hoping to take Pran on a little date this weekend to celebrate how hard they had been working on their semester projects, but they had both agreed that the cover came first. So he kept his face calm and nodded obediently.
"Alright, I'll come home after classes," he said. "That all?"
"Mm," his father nodded. "Come home straight after class. Your mother wants you home for dinner."
"Got it," Pat said, patting the frame before swinging back around to head upstairs, already pulling out his phone to text his boyfriend.
"Damn," Pran sighed, leaning against his window frame.
"I know," Pat said, leaning on the opposite side, body half turned towards his boyfriend.
He had been quick to lock his door and climb over to meet Pran, coming across so they could talk quieter instead of having things in text. He didn't come all the way inside, Pran's parents home and awake still. So the less noise the better. Pran looked a little disappointed by the news that their weekend was all but canceled, but he understood. They had pushed their luck too far the last time and learned their lessons of where to push and where to yield with the long run in mind. Pat reached out, gently holding Pran's wrist.
"I thought he would be less hard on you by now," Pran admitted.
"Hey, I think he is," Pat said. "This weekend is just really busy. We're getting a bigger inventory than normal for a job, so he needs the help. That's all."
Pran wasn't entirely convinced, but he turned his hand to catch Pat's, fingers loosely locked together. He was getting more comfortable with these small ways of affection. They didn't feel as out of place as they had before when this all started. He looked at their hands for a long moment, not realizing Pat was watching him with the same kind of gaze.
"Maybe we can still have a date after I'm done helping," Pat said, leaning closer to him.
"Yeah, right," Pran said, snorting as he shook his head at the idea, looking at Pat. "You're always dead tired after warehouse days. You'll fall asleep in the middle of whatever we try to do."
Pat pouted like he wanted to argue, but Pran just smiled and used his other hand to card his fingers through Pat's hair, fixing a small patch that the wind had ruffled.
"I can wait a little longer for our date," he said. "I would rather you be able to focus on helping your dad and coming back to me, than rushing and doing something stupid and ending up hurt."
"Give me more credit than that," Pat said, trying to look indignant but it was severely undercut by how soft Pran's touch had made him.
Just that one pet had his stress levels dropping. He leaned in, gently nuzzling his face against Pran's stomach. Pran laughed softly, squirming at the ticklish sensation until Pat leaned away again, giving them the space to look at each other for a sweet moment. Pran squeezed Pat's hand and let go, sighing as he gently pushed his shoulder.
"You should go before they look for you, you've been over here long enough," he said.
"Just a little longer," Pat said, pouting playfully.
"No," Pran said, laughing as he nudged him until he scooted off the window sill. "Go. I'll see you in the morning."
"No kiss goodnight?" Pat asked.
Pran rolled his eyes but leaned over, pressing a short kiss to Pat's cheek. "Good night. Go."
Pat leaned over to press a matching kiss to Pran's cheek before giving in to his boyfriend's orders and carefully climbing across the roofs to his own balcony. Pran smiled, watching until he knew Pat was safely across before closing his window and drawing the curtains. Pat made kissy faces at him until the curtains were completely closed, smiling proudly to himself as he went inside for the night.
...
Friday ended up being so chaotic for both of them, they had little more than a short greeting in the morning on their way out of the dorms before they were off. Pran hurried back to the dorms after class to get the thing he had 'forgotten' to grab for his project in order to catch Pat before he left to go back home. Pat caught him in the stairwell with a long hug, partially lifted to the top of his feet in a way that Pran only let Pat do and only when he knew he really needed it. Pran held on until he felt the other relax enough to pull away, using the small height advantage of the hold to press a kiss to his forehead. He felt a little more warm than expected under his lips, but maybe it had just been from rushing around.
"Don't push yourself too hard," he said as he leaned back on his feet. "Call me after if you can get a minute."
"I will," Pat said, giving the same sweet smile he always gave Pran when he was promising something.
"Don't give Pa too much trouble," Pran added.
"I'm going if you're just going to start nagging," Pat said, but his smile was still sweet as he pulled away from Pran.
Pran snorted but nodded, "Uh, go then. Before it gets too late."
The two hovered there for another long moment, dragging out their goodbyes until it really couldn't be avoided anymore and Pat left with Pa in tow. Pran tried to ignore the small tingle of worry he had in the back of his mind about his boyfriend, turning his focus to work and friends to keep himself from overthinking.
"We're home!" Pa announced, entering first.
"Dinner is just about ready," their mother called from the kitchen. "Clean up and help get the plates and things."
"Alright," Pat said, setting his bag down to the side and putting his shoes up.
His father gave them a surveying look when they came in, softening a little when Pa came to give him a short hug in greeting on her way to wash her hands. Pat nodded to him politely, following after Pa.
"Cut it a bit close," his father said as they regathered at the table.
"Traffic was a bit heavier today," Pat said as he sat down.
"I wanted to invite P'Ink, but she had to stay and finish some photos," Pa said, trying to redirect the conversation.
"Hopefully she can come next time," their mother said, smiling softly. "We love when Ink can join us."
Their father made a half noise of agreement, turning his focus to the food. Pat shot Pa a grateful glance before following his father's lead. Pat found himself quieter than normal, letting Pa lead the conversation for the most part. He didn't even banter back as much, catching his father's gaze more than once across the table. By the time his plate was empty he was ready for a shower and to go upstairs.
"I think I'll head up early," he said. "Since we're going to be up earlier."
"Oh," his mother said, looking surprised. "Are you sure, dear?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna shower first," Pat said.
"I'll take the plates," Pa offered, standing to collect his.
He took the opening as it was presented to him, excusing himself to the bathroom. The hot water helped a little, easing his stress. He wanted to go to the balcony and see if Pran was home yet, but he knew if he stayed up late talking to his boyfriend then it would only bite him in the morning. Once he was showered and changed he padded downstairs to grab a glass of water, but he stopped short when he heard his parents talking.
"You should be more careful of how hard on him you're being," his mother said. "You said you wanted to help him get over his heartbreak, but he seems fine now."
"I'm just making sure he knows where his priorities are," his father said. "Nothing good comes from knowing that family."
Pat swallowed and retreated back up the stairs, water abandoned. He didn't even bother turning on his light when he got to his room, heading straight under the covers. He sent a heart emoji to 'Just A Friend' and tucked his phone away, willing his brain to shut up long enough for him to get some decent rest.
...
Pat didn't mind helping out at his family business, truly, but he wasn't convinced he would ever like doing early morning truck delivery. He didn't like the kind of coffee his dad used to wake himself up, so he snagged a juice that didn't go down as smoothly as he thought it should. But he pushed it to the side as they parked in the warehouse lot just as the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon and grabbed a pair of gloves from his father's stash. There were about six other bodies present and helping unload and move pallets and boxes. By the time they had their first break, Pat could feel the sweat trickling down the back of his neck and there was an ache in his arms that he was trying to ignore. He sat down on a stack of boxes and used the back of his glove to wipe away some of the sweat across his forehead.
"Pat, help me move this," his father called from his right.
Pat sighed, but pushed himself to his feet, looking up to see his father's unimpressed frown.
"Don't give attitude, just grab the jack and pull," he said.
Pat swallowed but nodded, coming over to help push the jack down and pull in the direction his father pointed out. He guided it down a narrow opening, head turned to try and gauge where they should pivot to put it down when his father shouted and he felt his shoulder connect with another pallet with a hard smack. He lost his grip on the jack and the pallet knocked into the one beside it, spewing several of the boxes across the floor. Tool bits and supplies rolled across the cement in a clatter of noise.
"Oi, you've got to watch it," his father said.
"I didn't mean to," Pat grunted, rubbing his shoulder.
His father shook his head in frustration, waving his hand. "Just get out of the way if you're not going to do it right. It'll take longer if you keep doing this," he said.
Pat ducked his head, the sting of his words almost as hard as the throb in his shoulder. He moved to the side as one of the employees came to grab the handle of the jack and turn it the right way as a few others came to start picking up the fallen supplies and put them back in their boxes. He backed away to the break room, tossing his gloves down in frustration. His shoulder ached and his body felt too heavy. He wasn't used to being this tired this quickly, but they had moved quite a few pallets. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, taking a few sips as he tried to reign in his reaction but it just felt so unfair. It wasn't like he normally made a lot of mistakes. He thought about what his mother had said and it put a pit in his stomach. He thought his dad was coming around, but now he wasn't sure anymore.
He lurked around the edges, helping with the smaller boxes until they were at a point that his father was satisfied. It was a quiet car ride home, Pat stubbornly looking out the window the entire time. His father didn't seem quick to say anything either, not even when the younger all but leaped out of the car when they parked at home, going inside first. His mother tried to greet them but as soon as he was out of his work boots he was upstairs, door locked behind him. He felt the sting of tears at the edges of his eyes but he swallowed them down, shedding off his work clothes and crawling back into bed. He didn't even have the energy to think about food. He just wanted to rest and hopefully this morning had been a weird fever dream.
...
Pran was sitting in his room, jotting down some song lyrics in between doodles when he heard his phone buzzing. He quickly set his things down and reached for it, expecting one name but getting another. He blinked in confusion, not used to Pa ever calling him. She had barely messaged him at all since they swapped numbers, mostly as a just in case thing. He swiped to answer and lifted the phone,
"Hello?" he asked.
"Hello? P'," Pa said, voice hushed. "Can you hear me, okay?"
"Ah, yeah. Pa? Is everything okay?" he asked.
"I'm calling from my room, but I don't want my parents to get curious. I told them I was returning a call from P'Ink," she said. "Has Pat messaged you at all?"
"Er, not today," he said. "He was supposed to message me after he and your dad got back from the warehouse."
"Oh, they got back hours ago," Pa said.
Pran blinked, pulling his phone back to look at the screen. There were no unread messages on his notifications. Had Pat forgotten to message him? That was odd.
"Is everything okay?" Pran asked.
"Well...Papa seemed in a mood, but mama can't get him to talk about it. Pat went straight to his room and hasn't come down, not even for lunch. I tried to go ask him, but his door is locked and he didn't answer me when I knocked," Pa admitted. "He never skips meals, so I thought maybe he snuck out or something. But if he's not with you then he must still be in his room."
Pran looked at his window where he'd left the curtains half open. Pat's curtains were drawn, and there didn't seem to be a light on behind them. It had seemed so quiet he had assumed the other hadn't gotten back yet, but Pa said they'd been home for hours. He checked his phone again, checking the time, before sighing.
"I'll try to get ahold of him and let you know soon," he said.
"Thank you, P'," Pa said, sounding relieved. "I know I can trust you to get through to him."
Pran hummed in agreement, pulling the phone away as the call ended. He pocketed it as he stood and went to open his window. He thought about just messaging him, but if he hadn't messaged first then maybe he wasn't paying any attention to his phone. Was he asleep maybe? That didn't seem like Pat. He was tired after work, but never enough to shut out the whole world. He eyed the space between his window and Pat's balcony. The other crossed it frequently, but he'd never been brave enough to do the same. His parents were out running errands, so as long as he didn't take too long he could be over and back without anyone noticing. And Pa said Pat's door was locked. It was the most ideal situation he was probably going to get right now.
He took a deep breath and swung his leg over, carefully climbing out. He traced the route he remembered Pat taking, the tiles feeling weird under his feet but he didn't hesitate long enough to think on it too much before scurrying over the railing and onto Pat's balcony. He looked over at his house, it felt strange to see it from this angle. He turned to Pat's door, slowly reaching for the handle. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if it was locked, but he knew he had to try. He gripped the handle, carefully turning and breathing out when he felt it give and push in, granting him entry. He should scold him for leaving it unlocked, but at this moment it was in his favor so he would let it slide.
There was some light trickling through, but the room was in a dimmer light than he was expecting. He scanned the room, realizing he hadn't really seen much of it outside of the occasional selfie that Pat would playfully send from time to time. It definitely suited the other, but there was also something about it that felt missing. Maybe he was just used to how his dorm looked instead. His gaze fell to the bed and he paused as he saw the lump of blankets pulled all the way up. Pat hadn't moved at the sound of the door or his soft footsteps. Pran came to the edge of the bed, sitting down on the edge. When there was still no response he eased the blanket down. Pat was laying on his side with his arms curled protectively around himself, hair splayed against the pillow and face scrunched even in his sleep.
Pran felt a tug in his chest at how the other looked like this. He put his hand to the top of Pat's head, thumb rubbing the small space between his eyebrows to try and smooth out the wrinkles forming. He blinked, realizing just how warm Pat felt under his hand and adjusted his hand to press his palm to his forehead. That was definitely a fever. The dummy. Had he gotten sick and worked anyway? He sighed, pulling his hand away. Pat stirred at that, a sleepy grumble as he shifted, cuddling closer to Pran's side.
He cracked his eyes open when he finally woke up enough to realize there was a warm, firm presence beside him that he didn't remember having there before. Pran was a little shrouded by the low light, but Pat could make out just enough to offer a sleepy smile and reach for his boyfriend. "You're here," his voice cracked hoarsely, surprising both of them.
"You're sick," Pran said, cupping one of Pat's cheeks. "You have a fever."
"Mm, I'm okay," Pat said. "Just a little...tired..."
"You've been asleep for hours," Pran said. "I came to make sure you weren't dead."
"How sweet," Pat said, smiling despite how rough his voice sounded.
"When's the last time you ate?" Pran asked, coaxing Pat to lay back on his pillows, helping adjust them for him.
"Mm...dinner," Pat said, face scrunching as he tried to remember. He'd skipped breakfast and he hadn't had lunch yet so...
"Dummy," Pran sighed, shaking his head. "Wait here. I'm going to get something."
"You're going to your dorm?" Pat asked, blinking sleepily. "I can come too."
Pran blinked, softening for a moment when he realized Pat wasn't even aware they were in his room. He leaned over, fixing part of his hair.
"Just stay right here, I'll be right back," he said. "Promise me?"
"Promise," Pat echoed, sweet smile back. Pran nudged his nose to Pat's forehead before fixing his blankets and going to climb back over to his room.
He was sure they probably had things in Pat's house, but he didn't want to ask Pa for help and tip off her parents so he opted for going back to his own home. He found all the medicines that could help in the bathroom closet and went to the kitchen to fill up a travel bottle of water and warm up some broth his mother had made for soups. Putting it all in a tote bag, he shouldered it and climbed back over to Pat's room. Pat was back asleep when he came in, obediently still in the same spot as promised. He used his night stand as a make shift station to set up the things he'd brought over.
"Come on, Pat, you need to drink this and take some medicine," Pran said, helping support his head as he got him to wake up enough to sip on some broth.
Pat mumbled some kind of assurance, but didn't fight the care. The broth was warm and felt nice on his throat and stomach. The medicine made him grimace, but he was rewarded with a bit more broth for taking it, so it didn't feel all bad. Pran fed him some water and helped him lay back once he was satisfied it was enough. Pat felt a little more clear with something in his stomach, but the world still felt a little fuzzy so he focused on Pran's hand holding his while his other gently carded through his hair. It was a nice feeling, making the rest of the world feel miles away.
Pran wanted to tease him, watching Pat sink into the affection. It was the quietest he'd seen the other in a while. Usually he was so high energy and doing anything and everything to entertain or annoy him. But like this, he was rather sweet and vulnerable. It was strange and endearing at the same time. He knew how hard Pat had worked to try and be there for his family and for him. It was a hard balance to maintain. He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
"Get some more sleep. Once the medicine brings down the fever you should be able to try some real food, but nothing too heavy," he said, not even sure if Pat was awake enough to be listening.
"You say that like you're leaving," Pat said, pouting as he opened his eyes.
"I can't stay too long," Pran said, glancing at the door. He should unlock it on his way out to let Pa in so they can take care of him without it being too weird.
"Stay," Pat said, his soft plea making Pran look back at him with a torn expression.
"For a bit," he said, already shifting on the bed to be able to lean back against the pillows.
Pat shifted to give him space, turning to curl into him as soon as he was settled so they could cuddle. This felt much better. He sighed as he closed his eyes, one arm curled around Pran happily. The familiar scent put him at ease. Pran might tease him for it, but he fully believed that Pran's scent had some kind of magical pull over him. There was nothing quite like it, and nothing else had the same kind of hold on him like it did. He didn't want to go a day without it anymore. With the warm broth in his stomach and the smell of his boyfriend to comfort him, he found the pull of sleep too strong and slipped back under easily.
...
When he woke up again his lamp light was on, a little disorienting, and he was alone in bed again. He blinked, looking around, but the only sign of Pran having been there was a little box of medicine on his night stand. He pouted, hugging his pillow to his chest and finding a light trace of the familiar smell still lingering there. He shifted, coughing with closed lips as he struggled to sit up a bit to try and ease it and breathe. There were footsteps and his door opened, Pa ducking in.
"Pat?" she asked, looking worried.
Pat blinked, not sure if he had locked it earlier or not. Pa came in, leaning over to feel his forehead. He shivered at the touch, not as comforting as the one he wanted. Pa frowned and hurried out of the room, leaving the door ajar as she went to find their parents.
"Ma! Pat has a fever," she called. "He's finally awake."
Pat leaned back and let his eyes droop closed. He felt a little hungry, but he didn't have the energy to get up and find any. Maybe if Pa came back he could get her to find something for him. He opened his eyes when the footsteps returned. His mother came in, sitting on the edge and reaching to feel his forehead and cheek, looking concerned.
"Oh, my baby," she said. "Why didn't you tell me you didn't feel good? Are you hungry?"
He gave a small nod, relaxing under her care.
"I'll make some porridge," she said, fixing his blanket for him. "You stay in bed and rest. Pa will you help me get your brother a glass of water and some-"
She stopped when she saw the medicine, looking curious, but it passed and she nodded to Pa. "Just the water."
"Yes, Ma," Pa said, going to do as she asked.
Pat swallowed, waiting for her to question him, but it never came. Instead she made sure he was comfortable and went to start on the porridge, closing the door behind her. He wasn't used to being pampered quite like this, but he knew if he tried to push against it Pa would probably bop him. She came back with the water as he was fumbling to try and find his phone.
"P'Pran said you can call him after you're not dead, but don't try and act like you're better before you actually are," she said, setting the glass on the night stand.
Pat blinked, looking at her in surprise and a little awe.
"He said you would try to find him once you were awake enough," she said.
Pat exhaled, smiling softly as he relaxed back into his pillows. His boyfriend knew him too well.
"Did you and Papa have a fight?" Pa asked.
Pat blinked, thinking back. The day felt like a blur but after a bit he remembered the morning and frowned. He reached and rubbed his shoulder. It was still a bit tender but nothing worse than some of the rugby falls he'd taken. He sighed and sat up a bit against his pillows, looking at Pa.
"Kind of, I don't know," he said, clearing his throat. It hurt less than earlier but not by much.
"He was in a mood all afternoon, and now he looks guilty," she said, glancing at the door and then to him. "I don't think he knew you were sick."
"It's fine," Pat sighed. "I'm just tired."
"You don't have to force yourself to forgive him so quickly every time," Pa said. "If he's wrong, he's wrong."
Pat smiled at that, giving a half nod. "You don't have to be mad at him for me."
"Then be mad for yourself," Pa countered, sighing softly. "Try to get some more rest. I'll bring the porridge up when Mama is done."
"Pa," Pat said when she stood up to leave, making her pause and turn back to him. "Thanks..."
"Mm," she said, nodding in understanding as she left, closing the door behind her.
Pat sighed, looking to his phone. He went to his contacts, pressing call and burrowing down as he counted the rings.
"I'm surprised you're awake," Pran's voice made him smile despite his words.
"You left," Pat said, pouting playfully.
"I couldn't stay too long," Pran said. "My parents were due to be home and your parents were going to worry if you were locked away for too long with no contact. I told Pa I unlocked the door so they could take care of you. If I did it all it would look suspicious."
"I miss you," Pat said, smiling at Pran's endearing rambling.
Pran was quiet at first, exhaling after a moment. "I miss you too," he said.
"I'm gonna come and see you," Pat said.
"Don't you dare," Pran said quickly. "You stay in bed and rest. Your fever was still pretty high. It probably hasn't broken yet."
"It's not bad," Pat said. "I'll make it a short visit."
"Please, you didn't even realize you were in your room at home when I was there," Pran said. "You're not fooling me."
"I finally had you in my room and I didn't even realize," Pat said, pouting as he realized, looking around his room. It was relatively clean, luckily.
"Stop pouting," Pran said, but he could almost hear the smile from the other side.
"Then come back," Pat said. "If I can't go to you."
"It's late," Pran said. "I'll try to visit tomorrow."
"That settles it, I'm coming," Pat said, sitting up.
"Pat!" Pran warned, hearing the rustle of blankets.
Pat grinned, but it froze and slipped off his face as his door opened and instead of Pa it was his father standing there with the same look on his face that he had had at the mall when he found them together the first time. He felt too stunned to fully process the expression before the phone was out of his hand in his father's.
"Wait!" Pat scrambled up as his father saw the name and gripped the phone tighter, walking out of the room with it. "Wait..."
He stumbled after his father, ignoring the head rush at being in momentum so fast after laying down for so long. He gripped the stair railing for support, following his father to the living room. His father turned to him, face red and eyes burning as he held up the phone.
"What is this?" he asked, glaring at Pat who tried hard not to sway on his feet.
"Papa..." Pat said, swallowing.
"Don't lie to me," he said when Pat hesitated. "No more lies. I did not teach you to lie."
"What like you lied?" Pat shot back, feeling the heat on the back of his neck in response to his father's anger.
"Pat," his mother came over quickly, looking worried for both of them. "You need to lay back down and rest."
"Not until he explains," his father said.
"Ming," his mother said, looking at her husband in exasperation.
"Fine!" Pat said, voice cracking as he tried to talk as loud as his father. "I lied. I lied because you can't own up to your own lies. Because he's important to me."
"Pat...dear, your fever, at least sit down," his mother said, putting a hand to his chest.
"You never learn!" his father said, shaking his head. "Nothing good comes from being close to that family."
"You're just saying that because you're guilty!" Pat croaked. "I'm not making the same mistakes as you!"
Ming's face contorted at that, and he stepped forward to grab the front of Pat's shirt, his wife trying to stay in the middle and keep some peace between them. Pat stumbled at the pull and push from both of them, feeling dizzy from the force of everything happening. He tried to reach for his phone but his father yanked it farther away, making him trip forward and fall against the front of the couch. His mother yelped, trying to push his father back so they would stop fighting. Pat just wanted the phone. He wanted to get to Pran. If he could get to Pran then the spinning wouldn't feel so bad, like before when they had cuddled. If he could just get to him...it would be alright.
"Pran..." he murmured, coughing as another harsh clashing in his chest hit, making it hard to breathe.
"Pat!" Pa was tugging him off the floor, trying as hard as she could to support his body weight.
He wasn't sure how she got him to his feet, but they stumbled together. He wasn't sure what their destination was, but the world didn't feel upright so he just kept his eyes closed and let her lead. He felt the cool breeze hit his face, making his whole body shiver, and then he was in a hard seat that he vaguely recognized. He felt it tilt back and he sank into it, losing the energy to do much now that the adrenaline was leaving his body.
"Pran..." he said, everything going black.
...
When he woke again he was in a bed, soft scents of food coming from somewhere. He turned his head, nuzzling into the pillow and sighing when he was greeted with a familiar scent. His favorite scent. He heard movement, opening his eyes and blinking a few times as the room swam into focus. Pran came over to the bed with a bowl in hand, sitting beside him carefully. He smiled tiredly, rolling over to cuddle against him.
"Mm, hi," he said.
"Welcome back," Pran said with a soft smile. "If you didn't wake up soon I was going to have to check for a pulse."
"How long?" Pat asked, blinking as he glanced around.
"You've been asleep most of the day, it's about four o'clock now," Pran said. "The medicine took a while to really bring your fever down. I had to cycle through ice packs. If it hadn't gone down by noon I was going to take you to the hospital."
Pat hummed, nuzzling Pran's side with a sigh. "This is enough," he said, wrapping his arm around Pran's middle.
"I made some porridge, you should try and eat some before you take more medicine," Pran said. "I don't need you being dead."
"This is all the medicine I need," Pat said,
"Don't be silly," Pran said, but smiled at the sweetness of it.
"Five more minutes," Pat said, pressing his face against Pran's side.
Pran sighed but caved, setting the bowl to the side so he could adjust and let Pat cuddle into him for a few minutes. Pat smiled at his boyfriend giving into his requests, nuzzling at his stomach affectionately. When the time was up he obediently shifted to sit up against the pillows and eat some of the porridge with Pran's help. He made it about a third of the way before his stomach called for a stop. He took the medicine, grimacing at the taste. Pran leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. Pat blinked and looked up at him softly, a tender smile on his lips.
"You were right, you know," Pran said, making him tilt his head in curious confusion. "We're not making the same mistakes as them."
Pat blinked and looked surprised and then sheepish. "You heard all of that?"
Pran nodded. "I was halfway to your gate when I saw Pa shoving you into the passenger side of your car. I was scared because you looked almost lifeless. I offered to drive because she was shaking so hard."
Pat frowned softly at that. "Is she okay?" he asked.
"She's been in your dorm room," Pran said. "We took you to mine so I could look after you. And because your parents don't know I live across the hall from you, so you have the space to rest and get better without going round three with your dad."
"Round three?" Pat asked.
"I saw your shoulder when I was changing your shirt," Pran said, looking somber.
"Oh, that was from the warehouse," Pat said. "I collided with a pallet trying to move a different one."
Pran didn't look totally convinced, but he nodded and gently cupped the back of Pat's head. "I put some cream on it, but if it's still swollen we'll go to the infirmary on campus and have it looked at."
Pat softened and smiled, nodding as he adjusted and cuddle back to Pran's stomach, letting out a small happy sigh. "More good medicine," he said, making Pran snort.
"Dummy," Pran said, carding his fingers through Pat's hair as he relaxed against the pillows.
Pat closed his eyes, soaking in the affection and letting himself be at ease. For at least this fleeting time, they were safe and sound, and most importantly they were together. And it was alright.