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The letters written across the whiteboard were floating. Connor tried to pay better attention, but it felt like there was a fluid build-up in his ears, and his head was underwater. He couldn’t be sick, no – Connor Walsh did not get sick. But there he was, sniffling every few moments (he just knew that the tip of his nose was red), and he really should not have had that coffee, because his stomach was churning, and… Shit.
He stood quickly, gripping the edge of the table. He could feel the eyes on him as he tried to get past people to the aisle.
“Connor? Connor, what’s going on?” Michaela hissed at him.
He reached the aisle, and that’s when the dizziness really hit him. He could hear people talking, but it all sounded muffled, and when he reached out to grab something, all he could find was the ground, and his vision went black.
///
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice thick. He leaned into the long, thin fingers running through his hair, and sighed. “I’m not sick. I don’t get sick. I’ve never gotten sick before, not even when I had to share a dorm room with a guy with the worst immune system in the entire fucking world.”
Oliver soothed him. “I hate to break it to you, babe, but you have a temperature of a hundred and one. You’re sick.” He leaned down to press his lips to Connor’s warm forehead. “Would you like a shower? The steam might help to clear up your sinuses.”
Connor sniffled and looked up at him. “Is that a thing? Does that actually work?”
“Yes.”
“Then for the love of all things holy, yes please.”
It was amazing. Sure, they showered together all the time, but that time was different. Oliver held him up, a surprisingly strong arm around his waist, and washed his back and lower stomach with sweet smelling body wash. And the steam really did do wonders for Connor’s sinuses – he noticed as Oliver was toweling him off, pressing kisses to his shoulder blades. It was then he grabbed something called vapo-rub, spreading it over Connor’s chest before helping him put on a t-shirt. He even managed to convince him to take some medicine.
“How are you feeling, hm?” Oliver asked, kissing along the younger man’s jawline.
“Everything feels really fuzzy,” Connor said, letting Oliver push him back onto the bed and recently fluffed pillows. “And my throat hurts.”
Oliver made a noise of acknowledgement, tucking the blankets around Connor. “I am going to make you some tea, and warm you up some soup. You just rest, alright? You can watch Netflix, or I can bring you a book?”
“Or you could just come here and cuddle me while I nap?” Connor asked, drowsiness kicking in as he curled up his legs to his chest.
“Tea and soup first. Then… yes, that sounds great.”
///
Connor napped on and off all day, only stirring when Oliver made a sudden movement, or he was woken up to have a thermometer stuck into his mouth, either falling back asleep or taking some medicine. There was always a warm cup of tea on the bedside table, and Oliver was usually watching Star Trek: The Next Generation when he woke Connor up. It was so… domestic. He thanked whatever higher being there was that he had Oliver – having someone there to take care of him meant everything in the whole world.
“Hey,” he said at one point, late into the evening.
Oliver looked up from his book. “Hey. You’re looking much better.”
“I love you.” Connor smiled weakly. “Thank you for staying with me, and taking care of me. You’re a pretty awesome boyfriend.”
Not expecting the words, Oliver blushed. “I love you too.” He kissed the corner of Connor’s mouth. “Go back to sleep, babe. I’m here.”
///
The alarm went off at 6:30am, and Connor grumbled loudly, mouthing at Oliver’s neck until Oliver gave in and reached over to slam it off.
“You’re so lazy,” Oliver said huskily.
“You love me,” Connor replied. “Hey, I can breathe again.”
“That’s always reassuring.” They stayed wrapped up in one another, Connor almost falling back asleep. “You know,” Oliver said. “I could always call in sick, and we could have sex all day. And I got a new crossword book.”
Connor turned to nuzzle him. “I just want you to top. I like when you take care of me.”
The day passed uneventfully, the two men making love whenever they felt the urge. They did crosswords together, Connor snuggled against Oliver’s chest, and Connor even let Oliver convince him to watch Game of Thrones.
“I should probably go back to my place tonight,” Connor said softly.
Oliver nodded. “I was thinking… I could clear out a drawer in the dresser for you. You could bring over some clothes and stuff, so we could, uhm…” Connor was staring at him, smiling. “Stop looking at me!”
“If you get a drawer cleared, I’ll bring some stuff over,” Connor replied, shifting to kiss his warm mouth, pressing his tongue gently against the other man’s. Oliver gripped Connor’s hair, pulling him closer, groaning loudly. Connor pulled back, gasping. “I honestly didn’t think I would be able to get it up again, but what do you know.”
“Lie back down. I’ll take care of you.” Oliver began to kiss down his chest, and Connor’s eyes fluttered shut, his breathing still a little raspy from the day before.
Connor pulled Oliver back up to kiss him again, a little sweeter, a little longer. “I love you, Oliver.”
“I love you too, Connor.”
///
Oliver sent Connor on his way the next morning with a travel mug full of tea, and strict instructions to call him if he started to feel sick again. Connor had never felt so loved.