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Awsten wakes up feeling like shit. That is not unusual for him because he is mentally ill and doesn’t sleep well. This, though, is ten times worse. His head pounds, his chest aches, every muscle in his body feels like someone turned it inside out. The room spins a little when he tries to focus on his alarm clock. It’s eight in the morning, way earlier than he normally likes to wake up. For a moment he considers that he has died, until he breathes in and it feels like knives raking down his throat. No, he’s alive, horribly so.
“Ow.” He whines, burying his face into his pillow. It’s too warm, but his arms are too weak to flip it to the cold side. Maybe if he goes back to sleep it will go away.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Geoff mumbles. He rolls over and presses his chest against Awsten’s back, circling his waist with both arms.
“Ngh.” Awsten sniffles. Geoff’s weight is comforting but he tries to shove him off anyway. He’s overwarm in his hoodie already. His skin feels like it’s on fire, but he keeps shivering like he’s cold.
“Baby boy, what’s wrong?” Geoff pulls Awsten’s hood back from his face to get a better look at him. A flash of horror crosses his features before he goes back to looking sympathetic. “Oh, my love, are you sick?”
“Hhhhh.” Awsten responds. His throat hurts too much to talk. This is hell. Talking is the only thing he’s really good at. Well, he does a lot of it at least.
“Shh, it’s alright.” Geoff lowers his voice, running his fingers through Awsten’s hair. “Okay, no working today.”
Awsten whines and tries to wiggle away from Geoff. He has to work. If he stops, even for a second, everything he has worked for will vanish into smoke. The band, the music, the fans, his friends, Geoff. All of it will be lost. It’s irrational to think that, Awsten knows, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think it.
Of course, Geoff has listened to Awsten say all of this before, when he was able to talk and having a panic attack in the middle of the night. Awsten doesn’t have to say a word. Geoff already knows. Knows him like the back of his hands.
“No. You’re too sick. If you try and work through this, you’ll end up in the hospital.” Geoff kisses Awsten on the temple and sits up. “Stay here, baby. I’m gonna go get you some medicine, alright?”
Awsten kicks his feet petulantly. He doesn’t want to stay in bed. But Geoff pulls the weighted blanket up over his shoulders and kisses him again. Well, he can’t argue with that. His eyes are blurry so he can’t see further than the end of the bed. Is he crying? He wipes his face and it comes away wet with sweat. Ew.
A few minutes later, Geoff returns with a medicine bottle and a glass of water. He sits on the edge of the bed in front of Awsten, shaking out two pills onto his hand. Awsten can’t see what they are, so he resists when Geoff tries to feed them to him. No mystery pills, no thank you. He isn’t that kind of man.
“It’s ibuprofen, come on.” Geoff encourages. “I wouldn’t poison you.”
Awsten huffs and opens his mouth. Raising his eyebrows, Geoff tips them onto his tongue, then brings the glass of water to his lips. With a bit of difficulty thanks to the incessant burning in his throat, Awsten swallows. He groans, the water feeling more like lava down his oesophagus.
“Well done.” Geoff coos. “I’m gonna make you some food, alright?”
Collapsing back onto the bed, Awsten grumbles, but that makes his throat hurt so he stops. Otto would love this, if he knew Awsten couldn’t complain. Geoff pats him on the cheeks and leaves again. Immediately, Awsten misses him. This sucks. He hates being ill, avoids it at all costs. The times when he doesn’t feel like a personal failure.
He tries to remember what he was supposed to do today but it’s all a foggy blur. What day is it today? Tuesday. No, Friday? Awsten doesn’t run on a normal person schedule anyway, so days of the week mean nothing to him. Geoff will know, if he comes back. When he comes back.
Yeah, that’s right. Awsten is in Houston right now. At Geoff’s house, laying in his bed. This time, Awsten will have to be the one to go home. Not right now, obviously. Awsten is incapacitated. Which sucks and is terrible.
Being with Geoff is never terrible. Awsten is mad that he’s spending the precious days he has with Geoff stuck in bed, miserable and maybe dying. At least Geoff is there with him. If Awsten had to be sick alone, he might actually die.
“Baby~” Geoff sings as he comes back into the room. The door creaks as he enters, setting off Awsten’s headache again. He whimpers. Geoff’s voice helps. “I know, sweetpea. But I made you some soup.”
Awsten raises his head, trying to figure out how Geoff made soup so fast. He glances at his alarm clock and realises it has been over two hours since he first woke up. Did he fall back asleep? Honestly, right now being conscious and unconscious feel about the same - bad.
Geoff helps Awsten sit up straight, propping up a pillow behind him. He sets a tray with a bowl of soup in Awsten’s lap. Awsten stares at the soup, spoon held tightly in his fist. This is going to hurt like a bitch. His throat feels better now the ibuprofen has kicked in, but the soup is hot and his throat still scratches when he swallows.
“You don’t have to eat all of it, love.” Geoff rubs Awsten’s back, scratching his nails up and down his spine. Awsten leans into it, pliable and needy. “Just enough to keep your body fighting, hm?”
“Don’t wanna fight. Tired.” Awsten mumbles, pressing his face against Geoff’s shoulder.
“Do it for me. Like you always do.” Geoff kisses his sweaty hair.
Damn, Geoff has him there. It’s something they do when Awsten has a particularly bad bout of mental health. When he doesn’t want to live anymore. Geoff makes him promise to stay, for him if nothing else. Then they work up to him being able to do it on his own. They always get there, but Awsten would not be able to do it without Geoff’s help.
Awsten lifts his spoon, his hand shaking as he tries to feed himself. He spills the soup onto the tray and grunts in frustration. This isn’t working, he’s too sick.
“Oh dear, baby.” Geoff takes the spoon from him. “Let me help.”
Geoff holds Awsten’s face in his hand to keep him steady, spooning soup into his mouth with the other. It works a lot better than Awsten trying to do it himself. His throat hurts a little, but it doesn’t start to burn again until they’re about halfway through the bowl. Awsten starts to resist, turning his mouth into Geoff’s palm to avoid it.
“Okay, okay.” Geoff moves the tray off of Awsten’s lap and puts it on the floor. “Do you wanna move to the couch, or stay here?”
“Guh.” Awsten says eloquently. “Wan’ my Geoffie.”
“I’m here, it’s alright.” Geoff wraps an arm around him and kisses him on the cheek. Awsten pulls away. “Too much?”
“Don’ wanna get you sick.”
“I’ll be fine, babe. Looking after you is more important.” Geoff nuzzles into him. Awsten sighs - his boyfriend is so frustratingly perfect. “How about a bath? You’re all sweaty.”
Awsten nods the best he can. Geoff scoops him up and carries him into the bathroom across the hall. It’s nice being carried. If it was possible, Awsten would make Geoff carry him everywhere. Maybe it is possible - he should look into that. Geoff would do anything he asked, they both know that.
He turns the water on and leaves it running while he sorts Awsten out. Carefully, he pulls Awsten’s sweaty clothes off and throws them into the laundry basket. Awsten lets him do it, not really caring what happens to him right now. Geoff kisses his partner’s face as he waits for the bath to fill.
“‘F I get you sick,” Awsten does his best to kiss back, “I’ll kill you, person’ly.”
He chuckles. “You won’t. You’ll take care of me like you always do.”
“I never take care of you.” Awsten mutters. He sort of believes that. Geoff is the ‘dad’ of the group, he’s always looking out for him. Awsten just fucks shit up.
“You do, honey. More than you know.” Geoff whispers, kissing the shell of his ear. Awsten is too sick to comment on that, or even really take it in.
Geoff leans over and turns off the taps. He picks Awsten up and settles him into the warm bath. Awsten sighs, then his body shivers involuntarily. The warm water washes away the horrible sticky feeling he’s had all over him since he woke up this morning. More comfortable than before, Awsten takes a deep breath and slides further under the water.
“There we go, beautiful.” Geoff coos. “So much better, hm?”
“Mm. I don’t look beautiful right now.” Awsten says.
He caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror when Geoff carried him in. Pale, near grey, dark circles around his bloodshot eyes, fingers clinging to Geoff’s hoodie like a lifeline. Not the most attractive sight in the world.
“You are the prettiest boy I have ever laid my eyes on. Even now.” Geoff takes a warm washcloth and runs it over Awsten’s neck.
Awsten hums, leaning into the feeling. His eyes close a little as he slides down further into the water. Geoff cups his chin with his hand, pushing him back up a little.
“Careful. If I let you drown, your mother would kill me.” Geoff teases.
“Mom loves you.” Awsten mumbles, but he stops trying to sink. He tilts his head into Geoff’s hand. “Almost as much as I love you.”
“I love you too. Enough to get sick taking care of you.” Geoff kisses Awsten on the mouth, but Awsten pushes him off.
“Stop! ‘M not dealing with you sick too.” Awsten presses his face into Geoff’s neck, because although he doesn’t want to give Geoff whatever he has, if he stops touching him he might die.
Fortunately, Geoff’s love languages are physical affection and acts of service. He grabs Awsten’s shampoo bottle and washes his hair for him. Geoff’s fingers rubbing against his scalp almost puts Awsten to sleep. Every movement reduces the pounding in his head, the warm water dulling his muscles aches. Geoff shields Awsten’s eyes from the water as he rinses his hair off.
The water turns cold, and Geoff helps him out of the tub. They sit on the bathroom floor, Geoff drying Awsten off with a fresh towel. He leaves to grab him some clean clothes from his suitcase. Awsten leans his weight on the side of the bath, keeping his eyes closed. The room spins a little if they’re open, tilting and swaying like he’s on a rollercoaster.
Geoff returns with one of his own old band shirts and a pair of sweatpants. Reluctantly, Awsten lets Geoff dress him. He isn’t a baby, he could do it himself, although he can barely keep his own head up. It’s nice to be taken care of sometimes, though. Awsten does not deserve Geoff, ever, in any way.
Once Awsten is dressed, Geoff tries to pick him back up. Awsten fights this, trying to walk on his own. His legs give out almost immediately, but Geoff is there to catch him.
“Come on, baby. Back to bed.” Geoff says, carrying him back to his bedroom.
“Love you.” Awsten mumbles as Geoff tucks him into bed. “Stay.”
“Of course, my love. As long as you need.” Geoff kisses him on the forehead.
“Forever. Move back to LA with me.” Awsten begs.
He’s delirious with his fever and barely able to think. But he knows one thing - he loves Geoff more than anyone and he wants him around at all times. Every time they’re apart his heart aches as much as his muscles do now. He never wants to be sick alone again.
Geoff smiles at him softly. “We’ll see, baby.”
It’s not a no. Awsten is happy enough with that. He pulls Geoff into bed beside him and snuggles against his chest. Almost immediately, he falls asleep.
Two days later, just as Awsten is getting better, Geoff starts coughing. Awsten tells him off for clinging to Awsten through his illness and getting himself sick. Then Awsten cancels his flight home and stays an extra week, just to be sure they’re both okay.