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Adam Parrish did not nap.
It was an old habit from a time when he couldn’t afford to and a fact forever baffling to Ronan, lifetime insomniac, who took any sleep he could get.
Adam did not nap, yet there he was slouched on the Barns’ squashy couch, head listing onto one shoulder. He was still in his work clothes, disheveled in a way that usually only happened after Ronan got his hands on him. The top few buttons of his blue shirt were undone and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.
Ronan tugged gently on Adam’s already loosened tie. Adam blinked awake, smiling when he saw Ronan. “How一” he started hoarsely, before breaking into a coughing fit. “How was your day?”
Ronan ignored the breathless question in favor of sitting down next to Adam and surveying him closer.
Adam’s blue eyes were glassy, his cheeks tinged red. Ronan reached out to feel Adam’s forehead. “You feel okay?”
Adam’s eyes closed, leaning into Ronan’s touch. Ronan ran his hand through Adam’s dusty hair, settling on the back of his neck, which was just as concerningly hot as his forehead. “Think ‘m coming down with something.”
Ronan scratched the hair at the nape of Adam’s neck. Adam made a pleased hum that morphed into a cough. Ronan rubbed his back until it passed. “Think you’re right,” he said. “You eat?”
“Not really hungry.”
This, too, was unusual. Adam’s internship was so busy he tended to work through lunch. Most days Ronan came in from working on the farm to Adam eating anything he could find in the kitchen.
“Soup?” Ronan offered.
“Mm.”
Ronan took that as a yes. Plopping a worn quilt over Adam that Ronan associated with sick days growing up, he went into the kitchen. He started water for tea and placed a frozen block of soup in a pot to heat up.
He put one of Blue’s homemade tea bags into a mug, made from dried mint leaves from one of Gansey’s plants. There were little notes written on the paper at the end of the string. This one said, boiling Coca-Cola. “Cut it out,” Ronan muttered, to whatever psychic had predicted Adam’s fever. Blue had gifted them the tea months ago.
Adam came into the kitchen, sat at one of the dining room chairs, and rested his head on folded arms.
Ronan stirred a generous spoonful of honey into the tea and ladled the now-bubbling soup into two bowls. He tore off some hunks of bread then dug out some medicine from the cabinets.
Adam had started to doze off, but he woke as Ronan set everything down on the table. He didn’t eat much, but he snorted at the tea bag’s message before drinking most of it.
Adam took some ibuprofen and a possibly dreamed shot of cough syrup based on its blue-ish glow while Ronan left their dishes to soak in the sink.
Ronan trailed Adam who paused at the mouth of the living room.
“It’s so early,” Adam said. “But I’m so….” He trailed off, leaning into Ronan.
Ronan kissed the side of his head. “Let’s get you to bed, gramps.”
Adam let Ronan lead him to their room. He swapped his work clothes for sweats and one of Ronan’s hoodies. Then he got into bed, smiling slightly as Ronan pulled the quilt from the couch up to his chin. Satisfied that Adam was settled, Ronan took a quick shower and got dressed in just his boxers. When he got into bed, Adam was still awake and shivering.
Ronan pulled Adam close, sharing his body heat. Adam coughed a few times then let out a pained sound. “Adam?”
“S’just my chest. Hurts.”
Ronan rubbed big circles over Adam’s chest like he could make his cold disappear through touch alone.
Adam’s cough kept him up for a bit, but eventually his meds started to kick in. “Ronan,” Adam said drowsily, finally starting to relax in his arms. “Doleo.”
Trust Adam to whip out his flawless Latin while getting knocked out by cough syrup. Ronan’s out-of-practice brain took a second to process. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“You’re takin’ care of me,” Adam said and though Ronan couldn’t see his face he knew his brow was furrowed.
“I want to.”
“And you’re probably gonna catch this,” Adam continued, as if Ronan hadn’t spoken.
Ronan shrugged. “Then you’ll take care of me,” he said. Though he was aiming for casual, a bit of vulnerability snuck into his voice.
Adam put his palm over Ronan’s where it still rested on Adam’s chest and squeezed. “Course I will.”
Ronan kissed the back of Adam’s neck. “Quietem,” he murmured. Rest.