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"I can't believe I got sick," Doffy muttered miserably. He raised his arms and let Trebol strip the sweaty shirt off of him before replacing it with the cool fabric of his freshly laundered silk pajamas.
Trebol bent down to do the buttons for him, long clever fingers hooking each one in carefully. "There there, young master. You just need some rest."
"But we're busy." His sunglasses slipped down on his sweaty nose, and Trebol pushed them back up for him. His bleary mind crawled with all the things on the family's plate. Deals and contacts that wouldn't wait for him to feel better.
"Hey, hey we'll look after the business for you until you're well," Trebol promised, giving him a wide smile. He buttoned the top button, and put his clammy hand against Doffy's warm cheek. It felt nice. Cool against his burning skin. "That's the whole point of having executives, right?"
"Alright." He leaned into Trebol's touch for a moment before pulling away. A sneeze tickled his nose that never came. Instead he sniffled, and pushed his hand across his face. "Ugh, I feel disgusting."
Trebol gave him a dubious, rather stern look and sniffled himself. "Am I disgusting, young master?"
"No…" Doffy meant it. Trebol's chronic symptoms were as unpleasant for Trebol as they were for anyone else, and they didn't make him disgusting. It was just something that happened. It would be awful to be disgusted with the man who did so much for him. Who was standing there helping him put on his pajamas while he was sick.
"Well then." Trebol's smile came back and he smoothed Doffy's silk lapels. "After your fever comes down you can have a steam bath. It'll clear your head."
Doffy nodded, swooning a little as he leaned again into Trebol's hand. It, and the soft, cool fabric of the pajamas felt nice on his warm skin. A steam bath didn't sound very nice right now– but maybe it would later.
"Let's get you into bed, young master." Without waiting for an answer, he scooped Doffy up into his arms and carried him to his bed, turning down the sheets before he set him in them. Doffy squirmed in the bed, and Trebol put his hand to his forehead. "I'll get you a cloth for your head."
Doffy grabbed his sleeve, catching it with his threads as well as his hand as he moved to get up. "Send someone. I want you to stay."
Trebol chuckled. "Anything you want, young master."