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Lucian paced around downstairs in the foyer of Phileas’ home, glancing at the ornate grandfather clock up against one wall every now and again. It was almost three o’clock, but to Lucian it felt like a century had passed. Where was that doctor? Just as Lucian was contemplating giving up and returning upstairs, there was a prompt knock at the door. The lycan rushed to answer it.
Outside, a carriage had pulled up near the side street and a short man dressed in a long black coat, waistcoat, and a white shirt stood outside on the front steps. He wore round eyeglasses and carried a heavy leather bag, a black hat perched on his balding head.
“This is the Fogg residence?” he asked, looking at Lucian skeptically.
“Yes,” Lucian replied. “I’m Lucian, the one who sent you the message.”
“Yes, of course,” the man said, nodding. “You’re Mr. Fogg’s new servant.”
Lucian clenched his teeth. “I’m not his servant. I’m his…” He paused, then shook his head. He’d learned rather quickly that men in relationships like theirs were frowned upon by lots of people. “Never mind. Please, come in, Dr. Ward.”
The doctor entered the house and removed his hat, then his coat, hanging both up on the rack by the door.
“Where is Mr. Fogg?” he asked.
“This way,” Lucian said, leading the way upstairs. “He’s been in bed the last couple of days, since the sickness started. It wasn’t until the rash appeared that I decided to contact you.”
He led the doctor upstairs from the foyer and into the bedroom. It was dimly lit by the fireplace and a few lanterns, the curtains on the windows drawn. The room was quiet except for the sound of ragged, wheezing breaths coming from the bed. Phileas was tucked beneath the heavy blankets, curled up on one side, his hair messy and sticking to his forehead. His beautiful face was pale, his freckled cheekbones flushed pink. Lucian approached his sick, sleeping lover and stroked his face, his hair gently.
“Phileas, my love,” the lycan whispered so that the doctor didn’t hear. “Wake up, the doctor has arrived.”
Phileas groaned sleepily and opened his eyes. They were dull and glazed, bright in his fever. It took him a moment to focus on Lucian. The lycan cupped his lover’s warm cheek in one calloused palm. Phileas managed a smile with his dry lips and his eyes started to close again.
“Try to stay awake, my love,” Lucian said. “The doctor needs to look you over.”
Phileas grunted but didn’t close his eyes. Dr. Ward stepped forward and Lucian moved away a bit to give him room to work, but stayed in the room, and close enough so that Phileas was still in his sight and vice versa. Dr. Ward carefully looked Phileas over, first looking into his throat, which Lucian knew was raw and red, causing a rough cough that rattled his lover’s lungs. That had been the first symptom to appear, followed by the fever. Dr. Ward peeled back the blankets covering Phileas, revealing his bare torso, which was covered in a crawling crimson rash, from his chest, down his arms, his belly, and his back.
Lucian had made the choice to call a doctor after that rash appeared, realizing this illness was something more than just a sore throat and a fever. He watched Dr. Ward examine the rash, then use his stethoscope to listen to Phileas’ heart and his lungs. He looked up at Lucian as he draped the scope over his neck.
“You were right to call me,” he told Lucian. “But perhaps you should’ve done so earlier.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Lucian asked.
“Scarlet fever,” Dr. Ward replied. “It’s rare for it to occur in an adult, as it is more common in children.”
“Is there anything you can do for him?” Lucian asked impatiently. “Will he get better?”
“I have some medicine that should help ease the fever and kill the bacteria, but I’m afraid that’s all I can do at this point. You should also take precautions before you get infected as well.”
Lucian smiled wryly. “I’ll take my chances, Dr. Ward.”
“Very well.” the doctor replied, removing a bottle of medicine from his bag and leaving it on the side table near the bed. “Make sure he takes that three times a day and do whatever you can to help keep his fever down.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Lucian said, inclining his head slightly.
The human nodded at him and gathered his bag, then left the room. Lucian heard him reclaim his hat and coat, then leave the house. The lycan sighed and moved toward the bed again, drawing the covers over Phileas’ body again. His skin was hot to the touch, the rash on his body making it look like his blood was pressing against his flesh. Lucian stroked the human’s hair back from his forehead and Phileas stirred at the touch, blinking up at him.
“What did the doctor say?” Phileas rasped.
“You have scarlet fever,” Lucian explained. “He left some medicine behind for you to take, but that was all.”
Phileas grunted and coughed hoarsely into his fist, his whole body moving from the force of it. The sound made Lucian’s own lungs ache in sympathy. He rubbed his human’s back, feeling how warm the skin was, the unnerving heat from the fever and the rash. When the coughing ceased, Phileas laid back down, rubbing his chest. Lucian pulled the blanket up to his neck, stroked his cheek, and picked up the medicine the doctor had left.
“I’ll mix this into some tea for you,” Lucian said. “Hopefully that will make it easier for you to take.”
“Thank you,” Phileas croaked.
Lucian smiled at him tenderly, leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Try to relax, my love. I’ll be right back.”
Phileas nodded and closed his eyes again. Lucian lingered for a moment, always finding it hard to leave his lover, but left the room and went to the kitchen, bringing the medicine with him. He made his lover’s usual tea, but added a bit of honey before opening the medicine. The bitter, acrid scent burned Lucian’s nose and he grimaced. Hopefully this would be enough to help Phileas. He poured a spoonful of it into the tea and stirred it around, then returned to the bedroom.
Phileas had rolled over onto his other side, facing the doorway. His face was tight with pain and his body trembled beneath the covers, as though he was cold. Lucian approached and knelt beside the bed, stroking his lover’s cheek, and Phileas opened his eyes again.
“I have your medicine,” Lucian said. “The doctor said you should take it three times a day.”
“Alright,” Phileas reluctantly agreed.
He sat up slowly and Lucian let him lean against his chest, offering him the teacup. Phileas sipped at the tea and grunted at the bitter taste from the medicine that not even the honey could counteract. Lucian rubbed his human’s back in slow circles and Phileas reluctantly drained the tea, coughing as he swallowed the last of the dregs. Lucian took the cup away and set it aside, then drew his lover into his arms, holding Phileas against his chest. Phileas hummed and nestled closer, burying his warm face in the crook of the lycan’s neck.
“You’re so warm,” Phileas murmured. “Why is it so cold in here?”
Lucian frowned, his brow furrowing with worry. Goose flesh stood out along Phileas’ arms and he shivered as though he’d just come in from a snowstorm. Lucian laid them down and held Phileas as close as possible, sharing the heat of their bodies and pulling the blankets tighter around them. Phileas coughed and whimpered at the pain of his sore throat. Lucian could smell his sweat, hear the slightly slower beating of his heart.
“Try to sleep, my love,” he whispered against his human’s hair. “It will give the medicine time to work.”
“You’ll stay?” Phileas whispered.
“Always,” Lucian replied.
Phileas’ big brown eyes slipped closed and his raspy breathing evened out, tickling Lucian’s skin with each exhale. Lucian stroked his human’s soft, sweat-damp hair and kissed his warm forehead, and stared into the flames in the fireplace.
Phileas slept for a long time and Lucian did what he could to keep his fever down. He draped cold towel across his lover’s brow and the back of his neck, wiping down his chest and arms in an effort to keep him cool. Phileas coughed even in his sleep, his breathing rough, his face flushed and furrowed with pain. At one point, when his fever reached a point when he was incoherent, looking right through Lucian, the lycan drew his human a lukewarm bath.
Lucian tested the temperature of the water, making sure it wasn’t too hot or too cold, knowing either could be a shock to Phileas’ system. He returned to the bedroom and tried to wake his lover, shaking his shoulder lightly.
“Phileas, my love,” Lucian said. “Wake up.”
Phileas whined and feebly swatted at Lucian’s hand, rolling away. Lucian sighed and pulled the blankets off his human, then gathered Phileas into his arms. The younger man woke at the sensation of being lifted, draping his arms around the lycan’s neck, blinking owlishly.
“What’s going on?” he mumbled, his voice rough as sand.
“I’ve drawn you a bath,” Lucian explained. “Your fever is getting too high. We need to cool you down.”
He carried Phileas into the other room, where the tub had been filled almost to the brim with clean, lukewarm water. The older man stripped his human of his underwear, then carefully eased Phileas into the basin. The younger man sighed as the water glided over his skin, more red than pale from the rash that covered almost the entirety of his chest, his back, and his arms. Lucian washed his lover’s hair and massaged at the stiff muscles of Phileas’ shoulders, smiling when he groaned under the touch.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Phileas spoke after a few minutes.
“I know that,” Lucian replied. “But I want to. I love looking after and protecting you, Phileas.” He grinned. “The Pack Leader always protects what is his.”
Phileas managed a chuckle, seeming to gain back some lucidity. “That he does.”
They smiled at each other for a moment. Lucian took Phileas’ hand and placed a kiss to his knuckles. The human suddenly frowned and pulled his hand gently away.
“Are you sure you should be so close to me?” he asked. “What if you get sick too?”
“Lycans can’t catch human illness, unless we are already weakened by silver,” Lucian replied. “Besides, nothing will stop me from looking after you, my love.”
Phileas was extremely touched by his lover’s devotion and felt his eyes sting with sudden tears. It had been too long since someone had loved him as truly and wholly as Lucian did. Strong, calloused hands suddenly cupped his face, thumbs wiping away the tears dripping down his cheeks. Phileas’ brown eyes met Lucian’s deep blue ones and the lycan kissed his lover’s tears away, then kissed his lips.
“I love you, Phileas,” Lucian said softly.
“I love you too, Lucian,” Phileas replied.
He let Lucian help him out of the bath and dry him off before wrapping him in a soft dressing gown. Then Lucian drew his lover into his arms again and carried Phileas back to the bedroom as if he weighed nothing at all. He gave Phileas another dose of medicine mixed into some tea again, then laid down with his young lover, Phileas’ head on Lucian’s bare, muscled chest.
“Rest, my love,” Lucian whispered, and Phileas did.
Over the next week, Phileas’ took a turn for the better. His fever went down and the rash on his body slowly but surely vanished, even before he finished the rest of the medicine. The morning when he woke up before Lucian, the lycan briefly panicked, only for his lover to enter the room wearing the older man’s black jacket and nothing else, holding some tea for the both of them.
“You’re up,” Lucian said, relaxing slightly. “How do you feel, my love?”
“Better,” Phileas replied, sitting down on the bed and offering Lucian one of the teacups. “The rash is gone, and my throat isn’t sore anymore. I’ve stopped coughing too.”
Lucian smiled at his human. Phileas’ brown eyes were once again bright and full of life, warm with the love he felt toward the lycan. He leaned close, spreading one hand on Lucian’s naked chest and kissing him on the lips.
“Thank you for looking after me,” Phileas said when they pulled away for air.
“Anytime, my love,” Lucian replied, brushing their noses together. “After all, when we first met, it was mostly you looking after me. It’s about time I returned the favor.”
Phileas grinned and kissed him again. “I love you, Lucian.’
“I love you too, Phileas,” Lucian returned.