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They wake up slowly with the sun streaming into the room through the window, head tucked into Remy's chest. Most mornings start that way for them, laying in bed for a few minutes before they get up to start the day. This morning though, they feel like shit. They struggle to open their eyes from the buildup that's gathered there, and their throat feels as though sandpaper had been taken to it. They groan, shifting position slowly. Their entire body feels achy and stiff, just rolling over takes far too much effort for their liking. There's no denying it, they're definitely sick. Their movements jostle Remy enough for him to wake up, red irises halfway hidden under tired eyelids as he turns over to look at them.
"G'mornin chère.. sleep well?" He greets them in his tired morning voice. They don't give him the usual smiling response though, just groaning and burying their face into a pillow. He frowns at the unusual response, sitting up and looking them over with a concerned expression. "Hey now petit, what's dat all about? Ya feelin' okay?"
They turn over onto their back, rubbing at their eyes and managing to look over at him. "I feel like I got hit by a train.. think I'm sick"
Remy sits up more at that, reaching over to lay the back of his hand over their forehead "Ya burnin’ up chère, no wonder ya feel like dat. Hold tight here, Gambit gon’ get ya some water.” With that he pulls himself up and out of bed, heading down the hall to the kitchen. Humming to himself, he looks through the cabinet to get one of their larger glasses, filling it up with some ice and lots of water. As Remy moves through the kitchen he hears harsh coughing from the bedroom, and he quickly goes over to the bathroom medicine cabinet, grabbing the cough syrup before returning to the bedroom with the water and medicine in hand.
“Here chère, got ya some medicine and some water," Remy hands them the glass of water, pouring a dose of cough medicine as they drink it. “Dere we go, take dis an’ wait a couple minutes ‘fore ya drink more o’ de water”
They take the medicine from him with a grateful smile, drinking the cough syrup down. Their nose wrinkles at the taste as they finish the last couple drops, but their throat already feels better. “Eugh, god that stuff's gross," They pause a moment before they speak up again. “Thank you though, I appreciate it. Throat already hurts less."
Remy smiles and takes the empty medicine cup from their hand. “Dat’s good, Gambit knows it tastes bad, but he'll make up fo’ it. How's some soup sound?” They nod as they take a drink of water.
“Soup would be incredible Remy, thank you." They smile softly despite the discomfort of their condition, appreciating the way he takes care of them without even needing to be asked. He nods, adjusting the pillows and blankets, making sure they were comfortable and had everything they needed within reach.
“Alrigh’ chère, ya jus’ stay here an’ rest okay? Gambit be back in a bit wit’ soup.” With that he stands, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead before returning to the kitchen. Remy’s head isn’t fully in it as he goes through the motions, prepping ingredients and setting out pots and pans, relying on muscle memory as his mind wanders to his partner’s condition. They had seemed okay the day before, but sickness just shows up out of nowhere sometimes he supposes. The kitchen fills with the scent of sautèing veggies and spices as he works, hands moving with practiced ease over the stove. He had noticed their speech had been really hoarse and tight, their throat was clearly bothering them. With that thought Remy decides to put on a kettle for some tea, lemon and honey like he always has when he feels poorly, setting the water to boil before pouring the stock into the soup pot.
While he waits he runs through other things that he could bring back with him that could help them feel better, drumming his fingers on the counter as he thinks. They already had cough syrup, and plenty of blankets. Definitely needed tissues, he realized, there weren’t many left in the box upstairs. Dumping the egg noodles into the pot he turns away to get some more tissues from the closet. He wonders if the medicine helped any, if they were feeling a little better. He hopes so. Returning from the closet, he sets the tissue box down on the counter and checks the soup, finding it’s done.
He ladles out a bowl for his partner, pouring the rest into a tupperware so he can heat up more for them whenever they need, and quickly makes up the tea. Tucking the tissues under his arm, he picks up the bowl and the mug, heading back to the bedroom as quickly as he can without spilling anything. When he opens the door, they perk up, pushing themselves up to a sitting position.
“Remy! You-” Their words are cut off by several harsh coughs. “Ah, sorry. You’re back, missed you” Remy returns the smile they give him, setting the tea and soup on the nightstand next to them and settling into the bed next to them.
“Gambit missed ya too petit, how ya feelin’? Meds help any?” He checks their forehead, smile faltering slightly when their fever is still high. They nod, leaning ever so slightly into his touch.
“Meds helped a lot, I feel way better. Thank you for making me soup, I really really appreciate it.” They pick up the bowl of soup, taking small bites, cooling them with their breath each time. “Mm… this is incredible Remy, I swear you work magic in the kitchen.” They eat eagerly despite only being able to manage small bites at once, the rich aroma filling their nose and the flavors coating their tongue. It’s pure heaven to them, especially with how it soothes their torn up throat and settles their stomach. Remy watches them with a fond smile, always loving how much they enjoy his food, cooking has always been a way for him to show his love.
“Glad ya like it chère, jus’ wanna help ya feel better soon.” He settles in closer to them, gently pulling them to lean back on him, holding them close and nuzzling into the crook of their neck. “Gambit hate seein’ ya suffer. If ya need anythin’ at all jus’ say de word, do anythin’ to help ya feel better.”
They sigh with a soft smile, finishing the soup and setting the bowl aside. “As much as I appreciate you helping me, Remy, you getting sick from me isn't going to help anything, you shouldn’t be so close." Remy only tightens his grip around them, clearly not caring about any risk of transmission.
“Not gon’ get sick, got a better immune system den dat. Jus’ let Gambit take care o’ ya petit.” He reaches over to the nightstand, bringing the mug of tea in front of them. “Here, drink dis, it’ll help ya throat.” They groan, a mix of amusement and exasperation crossing their features as they accept the drink.
“Alright fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” They take small sips of the hot drink as they speak. “When you get sick from this I reserve the right to say I told you so.” Remy just chuckles at that, adjusting to rest his chin on their shoulder while they drink.
“Ya don’ gotta worry ‘bout dat, jus’ rest an’ get better, Gambit don’ get sick.” He takes the mug from their hands once they’ve drained it, setting it back on the nightstand. “Now get some sleep chère, ya need ya rest ta recover.” They nod, yawning and shifting to lay more on their side in his arms. They cough a couple times with the change of position, but it’s not as harsh now, the honey and lemon from the tea working to soothe their throat.
With Remy holding them close and running a hand through their hair, they settle into a light sleep, comfortable despite their condition with him there to care for them. He sits watching over them as they rest, his own eyelids getting heavy after a while. He isn’t able to fight it for long, and he falls asleep sitting up in the bed not long after, keeping his partner wrapped safely in his arms.