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"Sir, are you sure you are alright?" Glacia asked for the third time, a hint of concern in her voice.
Steven's voice, still rough from the coughing fit, trembled slightly as he insisted, "I'm fine." He did his best to sound convincing, but even to him, it fell short.
"Are you still planning on attending Wallace's gala this evening with the rest of us?" Sidney asked, raising an eyebrow with skepticism evident in his voice.
"Why wouldn't I?" Steven replied his tone firm but tinged with resignation. "I have a responsibility as the champion. Besides, Wallace would drag me out of the hotel if I tried to miss it," he added, releasing a small, weary sigh. Steven knew from past experiences that Wallace wouldn't hesitate to come all the way to Ever Grande City to ensure his attendance so his showing up at the hotel was a guarantee.
"I'm certain he would understand if you weren't feeling well," Glacia attempted to reason with the determined champion.
"I'm feeling fine. My throat is a bit dry, but that's all," Steven said as he reached over to grab his suit jacket from the chair. He had left it there earlier during the day because it had been too warm in the hotel. What he said wasn't a lie. Despite his efforts to soothe his dry throat with water, it still felt terribly dry. Even though he didn't feel sick, he tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt and felt a slight ache in his stomach as pressure started to build. "Shall we go?" He was silent as the other members chatted on the way to the venue. Drake was the only other one who was quiet. He would occasionally comment on something or try to reign Sidney and Phoebe in before falling back into place next to Steven. He appreciated the silent company. The group was greeted at the door and shown to the hall, and Steven noted the layout of the venue as they walked. He made a mental note of the nearby hallway for a quick escape if needed and several smaller ballrooms for a quieter retreat. As they entered, Steven noticed more people than he had expected, and he saw members of the press floating around the room. It was unusual for Wallace to allow them entry. As they entered Sidney and Drake were immediately pulled away by Wattson and Norman. Glacia and Phoebe were being waved over by Winona. Steven's heart skipped a beat when he saw Wallace approaching through the crowd. He wondered what Wallace had planned.
“May I have this dance?”
The room was filled with chatter and activity as Steven found himself in a situation he wished to avoid. Wallace approached with an outstretched hand and a smug grin. He knew that Wallace could be overbearing but somehow he found himself surprised still. Hoping to politely decline, Steven darted his eyes around the crowded room, only to realize they were under the watchful gaze of onlookers. Reluctant to cause a scene, Steven suppressed his growing discomfort and forced a pleasant tone as he declined Wallace’s offer. He wasn’t in the mood for Wallace’s antics. "I am flattered by the offer; however, I must decline," Deep down, he longed to push Wallace away, but he didn't want to offend him, especially not while feeling unwell.
“Come now, Steven,” Wallace laughed “It’s a party. Lighten up a little.”
“Very well.” Steven took Wallace’s hand and allowed the other man to lead him to the floor. They fell into place rather easily as everyone continued to dance. Steven placed one hand around Wallace’s hip indicating that he was going to lead them and Wallace allowed it Wallace had started flirting not long after Steven had appointed him as gym leader. Granted before that they rarely saw each other. A party here and there that Steven was forced to attend for the league usually. At first, the advances had been subtle and only when they were alone, but Wallace had grown bolder as of late. Now he pulled stunts like this where he would publicly flirt with Steven. About a month back Wallace had let it slip that he was interested in Steven during an interview. He hadn't outright said he was with Steven, but people were able to draw the conclusion nonetheless. Steven had his suspicions that had been the intent. Somewhere along the lines though he had grown fonder of Wallace. He came to enjoy the flirting, secretly of course, and even made a comment here or there in return.
As Steven danced, he initially felt fine. His stomach seemed to settle, but a gnawing nausea still bubbled restlessly within him. The bright glimmering lights only served to exacerbate his pounding headache.
“Are you well, Steven?” Wallace questioned as they turned “You feel rather warm.”
"We are in the middle of dancing, surrounded by a crowd of people. Naturally, I feel warm," Steven replied with a hint of roughness in his voice. He despised lying to Wallace, but it was only a partial lie. He reassured himself that he would be okay. As they turned once more, the movement sharper this time, an unusual sensation cascaded over Steven's body.
“I’m not so sure about that. You’ve gone pale.” Wallace replied doubtfully as he tried to pull Steven off the floor, but the smaller man held his grip.
"Wallace," Steven warned firmly with a flick of his eyes. The pressure from the expectant onlookers, including their peers and the media, was palpable. "Let’s finish this dance." Despite Wallace's outward composure, Steven could sense his disapproval through the subtle flicker of his eyes. As the song neared its end, Steven felt a growing concern that he wouldn't make it through. The final turn pushed his stomach to its limit. He uttered a panicked "Excuse me" before breaking away from Wallace. With a swift but steady pace, he left the hall, shedding his facade when he was safely out of sight. Recalling the restroom's location, he rushed in that direction, desperately hoping to avoid anyone noticing his distress. Expressing silent gratitude that no one else was present, he sought refuge in the dimly lit restroom and rushed into the first stall. Collapsing to the ground, the first wave rose up his throat, leading to a fit of vomiting. The acidic liquid burned his throat, provoking coughs and subsequent retching. Though he couldn't get much out, his stomach continued to convulse. As he retched again, he thought he heard the door open and the lock click. Assuring himself that the unexpected visitor had no way of knowing it was him, he tried to find reassurance in the privacy of the stall. That he hadn't locked. It would be fine.
“Steven?”
Or not. The voice was quiet and worried, Steven realized “In here.” he managed before gagging again. Wallace was kneeling behind him in the next moment. He didn’t say anything as he took in Steven’s appearance. Steven felt a new wave of heat rush over him and he realized that things were about to get worse. His mouth filled with saliva and he hung his head over the toilet once more, sparing no time before his stomach convulsed violently and he emptied everything in his stomach.
"Oh, Steven," Wallace murmured in a sympathetic tone as he gently rubbed small circles between Steven’s shoulder blades. He winced as Steven struggled to catch his breath before succumbing to another bout of vomiting, gasping for air each time. "Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling unwell?" Wallace inquired, his suspicions confirmed by Steven's earlier unusual behavior.
Steven struggled to respond immediately, gasping for air as if he were choking. After finally managing to take a shaky breath, he replied, "I'm fine. Really."
Wallace laughed, though not out of amusement, and remarked “You’re not fine. You’re throwing up.” He watched as Steven began gagging again before bringing up a small mouthful of bile. “Seems like you have a stomach virus.” Wallace sighed as he pulled some tissue paper off of the roll and handed it to Steven, who still had yet to face him.
“I probably ate something bad. I’m fine.” Steven rasped, his voice barely above a whisper, as he wiped his mouth. He still felt terribly ill, but for the moment it seemed like his stomach was giving him a break.
“I hate to break it to you, but that was more than ‘ate something bad’ and you need to just admit it so I can help you,” Wallace said with a firm resolve.
“Maybe so, but I can make it through tonight and sleep it off tomorrow.” Steven, feeling unsteady on his feet, gathered himself, determined to push through the night and deal with the consequences in the morning. However, as he attempted to stand, another wave of nausea hit him, causing him to dry heave and cough up a bit of bile. "Wallace..." he murmured weakly, before succumbing to the dizziness and collapsing into Wallace's cool embrace.
"Come on, we need to get you out of here. I'll take you back to my place," Wallace said softly. "Wait here for me. I'll grab a few things and let the necessary people know that I'm leaving." His heart ached as Steven clutched his shirt and let out another whimper. He must be feeling really unwell to be so clingy. Gently, he pried Steven's fingers loose from his own and assured him, "I'll be back soon. You'll be okay." It took all his willpower not to press his lips to Steven's feverish forehead and hold him close. He couldn't bear to see Steven in pain.
Steven's body collapsed as Wallace stepped away, leaving him with no support, and he crumpled to the floor. He felt utterly helpless, curling up and hiding his face in his arms. Why hadn't he realized earlier that he was sick? Why had he been so obsessed with ensuring that tonight would be a success? He struggled to remember what he had been preoccupied with earlier in the day. He couldn't recall anything significant at work. He had only a few reports to go over for Devon, and the upcoming presentation for the business meeting with his father. No, nothing that could have consumed all his attention to the point of neglecting his health. Then, the conversation with Wallace earlier in the day flooded his mind. Wallace had expressed his anticipation for the gala and had urged Steven to be there. Could that have stolen Steven's focus? Maybe he had seemed distracted after their conversation. As the door opened again, Steven tensed, but his body relaxed when he recognized Wallace's voice.
"Alright, it's time to get you out of here. Up you go," Wallace said as he hoisted Steven up and held him securely around the waist. Steven's face turned pale as he let out a small whimper, and Wallace quickly positioned him over the toilet as he started to dry heave. "Oh darling..." Wallace gently rubbed small circles on Steven's back with his free hand, offering comfort until Steven's heaving subsided.
“Can we just get out of here?”
Wallace felt a genuine sense of concern as he noticed the weakness and trembling in Steven's voice, which seemed to be getting weaker by the second. "Of course," he said, trying to reassure Steven as best as he could.
As Steven stood up, he straightened his rumpled clothes and then allowed Wallace to gently take his hand. Feeling a flush of heat spread across his face, he noticed Wallace's concerned expression as he placed a hand on Steven's forehead. It confirmed Steven's suspicion that he had a fever. Without saying anything, Wallace opened the door and quickly scanned the area before leading Steven outside. It was evident that he was trying to keep them away from the crowd. Once they were alone, Wallace started speaking softly, not about anything specific, but Steven could tell he was trying to keep him calm. Steven felt a wave of embarrassment as Wallace handed him a plastic bag and settled into the driver’s seat. With no resistance, Steven took it, curled up in the seat, and rested his head against his knees. As the car began to move, he quickly succumbed to the fever and drifted off to sleep.
The next thing he knew he was being lifted out of the car by Wallace and carried into the house.
“Sorry. You were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you.” Wallace explained sheepishly.
"I can walk," Steven protested weakly. Despite feeling utterly drained, he wanted to show Wallace that he still had some strength left. His effort would have likely been successful if his stomach hadn't chosen that precise moment to rebel against him as soon as Wallace set him down. Taking a deep breath, he hoped it would provide some relief.
“Are you feeling sick again?” Wallace asked anxiously.
"I think so," Steven admitted. No sooner had the words left his mouth than Wallace guided him through the house and into the bathroom. He felt a surge of gratitude when Wallace closed the door, granting him some much-needed privacy. Mortification washed over him as he recalled how Wallace had found him earlier. Steven loathed being sick, and the thought of others knowing about his condition made him uneasy but the thing he hated the most was throwing up in front of someone. As he retched again, all sense of embarrassment dissipated. The sensation of his skin prickling beneath his clothes made him want to tear the fabric off. He was shivering uncontrollably now, the violent contractions of his muscles causing his entire body to ache and scream with pain. Desperate for relief, he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it into a corner of the room. He shifted between leaning against the wall and vomiting until his stomach was completely empty, leaving him retching unproductively. He didn't know how long he had been in there—it felt like an eternity as time stretched on—before Wallace tapped quietly on the door.
"Steven? Are you alright?"
Steven let out a bitter chuckle. He was far from alright. It seemed like things couldn't possibly get any worse than they already were. He gagged again and again, harder and harder until his eyes were wet from the tears that wouldn't fall. He couldn't cry. No, he wouldn't cry. As he heard Wallace knock once more, he desperately wanted to respond, to let Wallace know that he was fine. The sound of the doorknob turning and Wallace's hushed voice filled the room.
"I'm coming in, okay?"
Steven felt the dread well up in his chest at the words that he knew were out of concern. He hadn't answered. Wallace probably just wanted to make sure that he was alive. He groaned before rasping "I'm fine."
"You need to find something else if that was meant to be reassuring. You are far from fine. Arceus, Steven, you're burning up! Your shirt is soaked..." Wallace yanked his hand away from Steven's neck "I'm sure I have something you can wear. Something cooler." He disappeared without waiting for Steven's response. He needed to calm down. His heart was pounding against his ribs, the vibrations reverberating throughout his body. He took a calming, shaky breath before pulling a t-shirt and shorts from one of the dresser drawers. Swallowing his panic he pushed the bathroom door open once more. He froze in place and he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. Steven was motionless on the floor. His shallow, raspy breath seemed to rattle in his chest. The rapid rising and falling of his chest. "Fine, my ass," he mumbled as he dropped to his knees over Steven. He was still breathing. "Steven." he shook his shoulder gently "I need you to wake up." It wasn't working. He shook Steven a bit harder and tried again "You need to wake up." Harder "Wake up! Damn it, Steven, open your eyes!" Harder still "I need you to open your eyes!" The last shake seemed to elicit a groan from Steven who inhaled a shaky breath before opening his eyes. He was looking at Wallace with a strange expression. Concern? Why would Steven be concerned about him? He jumped as Steven reached up with a trembling hand and brushed it against his cheek.
"No need...to cry..."
Had Wallace been crying? He scrubbed his eyes roughly and forced a smile. "At least you are awake now."
"What do you mean?" Steven asked hoarsely as he pushed himself up.
Wallace's expression turned serious as he said, "You lost consciousness. I need you to tell me how you are feeling. Honestly."
"Tired. Sick. Dizzy. Weak." Steven answered through chattering teeth "Cold."
Wallace muttered a curse under his breath as he took in Steven's worsening condition. "Okay, you are getting dehydrated," he remarked, but before he could finish his sentence, Steven was leaning over and gagging once again. Wallace anxiously chewed at his bottom lip, realizing that the situation was not looking good for Steven. It seemed likely that he would need to go to the hospital at this rate. "I would feel better if you were somewhere I could keep an eye on you," Wallace reasoned, his concern evident. Despite Steven calming down, he continued to gently circle his hand on Steven's back, silently offering support and comfort.
"I'm sorry for keeping you up. I feel really bad for intruding like this," Steven mumbled as he accepted the tissue Wallace handed him.
“You are not keeping me up nor intruding. If you are that worried about it then how about this.” Wallace climbed to his feet and lifted Steven slowly "Let's get you set up in the master bathroom where I can be close by if you need anything. I'll grab some blankets to make sure you're as comfortable as possible," Wallace didn’t like the idea of his sick boyfriend-to-be sleeping on the floor in the slightest, this arrangement was a fair compromise. Steven seemed to agree too.
Moving Steven into the other bathroom wasn’t too hard. Wallace made quick work of getting him settled in with blankets and a few pillows followed by clean clothes. Steven didn’t say much, but he hoped Wallace could tell he was grateful.
“Do you want to try some crackers?” Wallace asked.
Steven shook his head in response and then leaned against Wallace. It was more like he was resting on top of him rather than simply leaning against him.
“Got it. Feeling pretty miserable.”Wallace said, as he gently placed the back of his hand on Steven's forehead, letting out a sigh. Wallace noticed that Steven's skin felt warmer than it had been before. “Can you try some water at least?"
“I guess I can try.”
Wallace extended a bottle of water "That will be better than not trying. Start with small sips," he advised. "You need to keep as much down as you can."
Steven did as he was told, though he was barely awake for it, but as he had feared he couldn't keep it down. Wallace had been right yet again. In the following hours, his condition deteriorated rapidly and he went from bad to worse to utterly miserable. He was vomiting every thirty minutes and couldn't even keep water down. He sought comfort by propping himself against the wall, unable to lie on the floor due to the pain in his abdomen. Despite Wallace's efforts to keep him warm with a blanket, Steven would repeatedly push it away as he alternated between feeling too hot and too cold. Occasionally, he would drift off to sleep, only to wake up feeling even worse. To his embarrassment, he found himself in Wallace's lap on one occasion. Unable to do much else, he weakly suggested to Wallace “You should try to get some sleep.” Despite not knowing the time, Steven could see that Wallace looked exhausted.
Wallace responded without hesitation, "There's no way. You need me right now."
Steven winced and rubbed his sore throat, feeling the raw pain from the abuse it was taking. He muttered, "There’s no point in both of us being tired," as he struggled to speak through the discomfort.
Wallace anxiously chewed at his bottom lip and stared at Steven, his heart sinking at the sight of his worsening condition. Exhaustion was catching up with him, but he couldn't bear to leave Steven alone in such a state. He knew he had to be alert and ready in case he needed to rush Steven to the hospital. "Fine," he relented, "but I'll be in the next room. Wake me up if you need anything." He bent down and pressed his lips against Steven’s head. He chucked as the other man’s face went red. Steven was finally coming around it seemed. As he turned to leave, he cast a worried glance back at the miserable champion on his floor.
Steven found himself alone on the cold, hard floor. Despite knowing that he had asked Wallace to leave him there, a sense of loneliness washed over him. He longed for Wallace's comforting touch and reassuring words. Feeling selfish for desiring these things, he reminded himself that he had no right to feel this way since he and Wallace were not in a romantic relationship, and Wallace owed him nothing. He should be thanking Wallace for giving him a place to hide during this. He had to suppress a sigh as he thought about what would have happened if he had to go back to the hotel. He felt his eyes growing heavier and his breathing began to even out as he drifted off into the blackness. He wasn't fully asleep. At no point did he do that and was always just on the edge of consciousness. Five minutes felt the same as thirty. Thirty was the same as fifty. His body never let him fall into the dreaming state he longed for. Another cramp in his stomach pulled him back. He knew there was nothing left for his stomach to expel, but he complied nonetheless. This spell lasted less time than the last but he was left dazed in his fevered state. His body felt light as his mind teetered on the edge of consciousness. When the cramps in his stomach subsided, Steven dragged himself to the sink, studying his ashen complexion in the mirror and recognizing the toll his body was taking. Splashing cool water on his face provided temporary relief but also made him shiver. Feeling disoriented and groggy, he eyed the cracked door and flipped off the bathroom light. He knew his room well enough to navigate in the dark, which was providing some relief to his throbbing head, only to bump into an unexpected obstacle — his dresser, which he was sure hadn't been there earlier. Dismissing the oddity, he finally found his way to bed, seeking solace in the softness of his blankets and the coolness of his body pillow against his skin.
~X~
Wallace slowly opened his eyes, feeling an unbearable warmth and stickiness on his chest. As he focused on his surroundings, he suddenly became aware of something pressing against his chest, gently nuzzling him. Looking down, he was startled to see Steven wrapped around him, his flushed face resting in the curve of his neck, breathing heavily. He shifted slightly, repositioning himself onto his back, and carefully adjusted Steven so that Steven's head was resting on his chest. The slight movement seemed to rouse Steven from his fitful sleep as he wearily opened his eyes and nestled in closer. Wallace felt a small smile tugging at his lips as he whispered, "Good morning." Suddenly, he felt Steven tense and abruptly leaping away.
“Oh, Arcues! Wallace…I…I didn’t…I’m so sorry!” Steven stuttered. He had no idea how he ended up in Wallace’s bed. He felt the full force of yesterday’s illness hit him and he pressed his hand against his stomach with a groan. Great.
"Steven, please don't worry. You have nothing to apologize for. I wasn't trying to wake you up. You still don't seem to be feeling well," Wallace said in a calming tone. "Is your fever improving at all?" Gently, he placed the back of his hand against Steven's warm, pink cheek before checking his forehead. "Maybe just a little."
Steven mumbled, "Could have fooled me," as he leaned forward, feeling the pressure on his stomach offering slight relief. He shut his eyes, trying to escape the nightmare that felt all too real.
“Do you want to go sit in the bathroom again?” Wallace asked worriedly. “I think we should try to get some medicine in you.”
Steven shook his head slowly, feeling the intense heat emanating from his body as he nestled deeper into the warm embrace of the blankets. After a brief moment of indulgence, he suddenly became aware of his actions and resolutely pushed himself to sit up. "I'm sorry," he said.
"I’m only going to say this once so listen up,” Wallace replied firmly, his intense gaze grabbing Steven's attention. “You do not need to apologize to me. For anything. Period. Do you understand me?”
“You say that but…” Steven dropped his eyes to the blanket that he was wrapped up in.
"No excuses," Wallace firmly pulled Steven closer to him. "If you're not comfortable, we can always move to the couch. But either way, you need to rest."
“Couch then,” Steven answered immediately.
“Very well. Go on in there. I’m going to see what I have for your fever.” He gave Steven a fond look before disappearing into his bathroom. He knew he didn’t have much in the way of medicine in his cabinet as most of it stayed in his travel bag but he was able to find a bottle of Tylenol and an unused box of Dramamine. He was relieved to find Steven stretched out on the couch. He was finally starting to rest. He quietly set the medicine on the floor next to the couch before padding to the kitchen and filling the glass with cold water. He returned to the couch and started getting the medicine ready. “Steven, I need you to wake back up. Hey, I know you want to sleep, but you need to take this first.”
"Fine," Steven muttered with a halfhearted tone, casting a displeased look at the medicine. His stomach still felt queasy, and the thought of consuming anything made him feel even more uneasy.
“Hey, I know. But think of it like this. If you keep it down you will start to feel better. Besides, you weren’t able to keep any water down last night. You are dehydrated which is making you feel worse.” Wallace reasoned as he helped Steven sit. He held the Tylenol up to Steven’s lips and waited until Steven gave in, opening his mouth slightly, and slipped the pill past his parted lips before doing the same thing with the Dramamine. He offered the water to Steven but thought better of it when he noticed how badly Steven was shaking. Instead, he held the glass to his lips. Once Steven had gotten the medicine down the two got comfortable on the couch. Wallace took his book from the table and settled with Steven’s legs in his lap. It didn’t take long for Steven to drift off again, though he never fell completely to sleep at any point.
“Despite what you might think I very much enjoy your company,” Wallace said casually during one of Steven’s restless spells. He helped Steven sit up and started rubbing his hand up and down his back as he did his best to breathe through the nausea.
“Yeah right. After last night I severely doubt that.” Steven glared down at his lap. He knew his chance with Wallace was gone. He didn’t know he even wanted this chance and now it was too late. His eyes widened as Wallace’s cool fingers grabbed his chin, roughly yanking it towards him. He had no choice as he met Wallace’s turquoise eyes.
“I think you sell yourself short.” Wallace started as he leaned forward “It is not your fault that you are unwell and it certainly does not speak ill of your character. I still find you attractive. I would still choose you as my dance partner.”
Steven could feel the heat rising to his face as anxiety churned in his stomach, threatening to bring on nausea. He struggled to avoid meeting Wallace’s eyes "Please don't tease me," he mumbled. Wallace sighed, and Steven reluctantly looked back at the younger man, who was smoothly settling back on the couch. Steven winced, feeling the pain in Wallace's voice.
“I wasn’t teasing you, Steven. I am being completely serious. My intention was never to take advantage of you. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s my fault.” Steven said with a rueful smile “I suppose I was being overly sensitive.” Steven paused to cough into his arm, throat suddenly stinging “I was worried that you didn’t feel the same way as me.”
Wallace gently reached out and pulled Steven's arm, drawing him close so that he was lying against his chest. "I do. Now rest. We can discuss this more later if you feel up to it," Wallace murmured softly.
“Can we stay like this then?”
“Naturally.” Wallace combed through Steven’s hair with his fingers “As long as you want.”