Work Text:
Speedsters don’t typically get sick. The common cold stood no chance against their speedy metabolisms, they were burnt out of their systems long before they could ever effect them, but sometimes when they were feeling run down, when they pushed themselves to the precipice day in and day out, that oh so common cold still managed to touch the seemingly untouchable speedsters.
It reminded Match that his partner was mortal. Behind the sharp wit, the words that cut like a knife, and the years of being his unfaltering partner in crime that Thad was fragile too.
Thad was huddled up on their living room couch, a blanket wrapped his around his dithering shoulders, his nose red and dry as he sniffled, his legs folded up beside him as he sat completely still, and watching the flashing blue light of the television with tired and unseeing eyes as it illuminated the room. With no energy to even move, to read, or even reach for the remote on the coffee table he resorted to his least favorite activity, day time television. Soap operas, reruns of old shows like Wendy the Werewolf Stalker, and reality television, shows Thad would never usually touch, played on the screen.
The pacing was slow to the speedsters mind, the drama was trumped up, and their insignificant lives were portrayed as if they had merit. On a good day Thad would have said his brain was melting in his skull just catching a second of it, but right now it was its mind numbing quality that helped pass the endless seconds away and all he could take as his sore throat pained him as he coughed and he sniffled.
Seeing Thad like this was like seeing a hummingbird suspended in the air in slow motion. Like seeing each and every wing beat and tiny twitch of their body as they flitted. Thad, usually so speedy and full of life, sat perfectly still now and he could see every rise of his chest as he breathed, every impatient twitch of his fingers as hated that he was ill, and every movement he made was so clear. It was a glimpse of something he rarely would see in his life.
Match let out a sigh. He hated to see him like this, but at the least there was something he could do for him as he walks over to him.
It was the scent of chicken noodle soup that Thad notices first before he sees Match offer the bowl to him. He takes it and Match strokes his hair back from his still warm forehead before sitting down right beside his boyfriend.
The chicken broth was a rich yellow as pieces of bright orange carrots, noodles, and chicken swam in the bowl. A smile touched Thad’s lips as looked down at the hearty meal. No one had ever made him chicken soup before.
Taking his spoon he raises a spoonful of a soup to his lips, blowing for a moment, before finally taking a bite as Match watched him. It was a comforting kind of blandness. Perfection in the simplicity and plainness of it all as the sweet taste of carrots and savoriness and warmth of the chicken and broth washed over his tongue with a pleased hum. The heat of it all trailed down his throat, soothing the soreness of his throat and stopped his fit of coughing for the moment, before it all comfortably settle in his stomach.
It might have been plain on his tongue, but sometimes something simple, plain, and comforting was all you needed. The simple joys were the best.
“Good?” Match asked his hand still gingerly stroking back his hair.
“Mmhm.” Thad hummed out between bites. This the most movement Match had seen from the speedster all day.
“Good. Be sure to eat it all up. You’ll feel better.”
And Thad did so with gusto. It had been the first time all day he had felt somewhat like himself. With a rhythmic clicking of a his spoon the contents of the bowl were quickly drained.
As Match glanced between the television and Thad he couldn’t but think it was nice to see him act like his old self.
“You feel good.” Setting the bowl aside, Thad lets out a pleased sigh as he leaned back against Match’s side, his skin cool to the touch.
“And you feel hot.” Match’s hand surrounds his forehead for a second, checking his temperature. He was still pretty warm though he seemed to be doing better than earlier.
“Oh, I know I’m hot. How do you think I reeled you in?” He says with a laugh that soon turns into a small fit of coughing that he smothering into the crook of his arm.
Match chuckles as he pulls Thad closer to his side and rubbed his back up and down in firm and soothing strokes, “Oh, trust me I know. You were pretty irresistible back then. And still are.” Though it wasn’t just his looks that had captivated Match back when they had first reconnected. He had always admired the speedster, his intellect, his drive, his passion, and passion for a life that was solely his own. That no one else could claim or diminish solely because he was a clone. Thad lived his life without regrets and he wanted that too. Even just the smallest piece of it. To bask in that feeling end to feel what he felt even if it was just by his side. But Match found so much more than that. He found his own wants and joys by him, with him, and he eventually realized toward Thad too.
And he had not been the only one. They had ended up here together after all.
“See?” Thad grins as he shifts and makes himself comfortable on Match’s chest, “I’m always right too.”
And Match snickers at that, “Of course. You always are.”
He runs his hand through Thad’s blonde hair idly, stroking his head and running his fingers against his scalp, and he catches the pleased look in Thad’s yellow eyes as he nuzzles closer to him. It was a simple pleasure, a simple moment, that some might have called bland, or it might have seemed small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but these simple pleasures meant everything to the both of them as they leaned into each other’s touch and watched as the television played on.
