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Wills lay curled up in his bed, his stomach churning painfully with every wave of nausea that passed through him. He could hardly remember the last time he’d felt this miserable, probably after eating gone-off candy for a video—his head was pounding, his body aching, and the soft, rhythmic sound of rain against his window only seemed to make him feel more isolated. Will buries his face into the pillow. He was supposed to be working on a new video, but instead, he was stuck here, tangled in his bedsheets and wishing he could just escape the feeling of sickness.
He reached for his phone on the bedside table, scrolling through his contacts list, his finger hovering over James Marriott's name. He could practically hear James' voice in his head—his steady, comforting tone that always seemed to put Will at ease, no matter what mood he was in.
After a few moments of hesitation, Will tapped the screen, sending a quick message to his boyfriend.
"James… I’m sick. Like, sick. I need you… can you come to London? Pls? I feel horrible."
Will stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the send button. His stomach churned again, and this time it felt even worse than before. A wave of dizziness hit him, and he let out a shaky breath, turning to rest his cheek on the cool pillow.
Seconds felt like hours as he waited for James' reply. When the notification finally buzzed, Will practically jumped in relief.
"Of course, darling. I’ll be on the next train." Will’s heart fluttered. Even though they were miles apart, James always found a way to make him feel better. But there was more than just the comfort of his presence that Will craved. There was something else—something deeper.
The wait felt excruciating as Will lay there in the dim room, body trembling slightly from the fever that had come on so suddenly. He clutched at his stomach, curling into himself as if the simple act of holding onto his own body could somehow make the pain go away. His mind wandered back to his childhood—how his parents had always been busy, never really around when he needed comfort the most. He didn’t remember ever being held when he was sick, or being told everything would be okay. He had learned to deal with pain on his own, pushing through the discomfort and putting on a brave face. But now, as an adult, he realized just how much he longed for that kind of tenderness.
He sat up slowly, wincing as the room spun, and messaged James again.
"I feel so bad, James."
A few moments later, his phone buzzed with another message.
"I’ll be there soon. Just hang in there, okay? You don’t need to go through this alone." Will let out a soft sigh, feeling both comforted and vulnerable. It wasn’t just the sickness that was making him feel this way—it was the sheer fact that James was willing to drop everything and come to him. It was the kind of care and affection he never really received when he was younger, but now, as an adult, he was learning to accept it from someone who truly cared.
A short while later, the door to his flat opened, and James stepped inside, looking slightly dishevelled but determined he moved to the doorway of Will's room. His eyes softened when he saw Will, who was now lying back in bed, looking a little like a defeated child.
"Hey, you," James said, his voice low and soothing as he approached the bed. Will gave him a weak smile, his eyes heavy with exhaustion
"I’m such a baby," Will muttered, his voice thick with embarrassment. "I’m sorry… I just feel so awful. I don’t want to be pathetic, but I can’t stop shivering and I just need you…" James chuckled softly, sitting beside him on the bed and running a hand through Will’s hair. "Hey, you’re allowed to be a baby when you’re sick. You don’t have to apologize for wanting comfort." He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Will’s sweaty forehead. "I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe with me.
Will’s eyes welled up with a mixture of relief and something else—something he hadn’t quite expected. He hadn’t realised just how much he needed to hear those words, how much he needed to feel cared for, to be held and reassured.
"I never got this when I was a kid," Will said quietly, voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know how to let myself need someone like this."
James gently cupped Will’s face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had fallen. "You’re allowed to need someone, Will. You’re allowed to let yourself be vulnerable with me. I’m not going anywhere."
Will sniffled and nuzzled into James' chest, the warmth of his embrace finally making him feel like he could breathe again. "I’m glad it’s you," Will whispered, feeling a sense of calm settling over him for the first time in hours.
James wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. "I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Just rest now. Let me take care of you."
And as Will closed his eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of James’ heartbeat beneath his ear, he let himself relax into the affection he had always longed for. In that moment, he knew he was safe—safe to be sick, to be cared for, and to be loved.
As the minutes passed, James gently coaxed Will to rest while he moved to the kitchen. Will's eyes followed him with a tired but affectionate gaze as James rummaged through the cupboards. He felt a flutter of warmth in his chest despite his physical discomfort—James was taking care of him, just like he always did, and it made him feel incredibly safe.
After a few moments, James returned, holding a plate with a bowl on top "Alright, babe. I’ve got some of that tomato soup you’ve got hidden away, and I made you some toast. I hope you don’t mind a simple meal."
Will managed a weak smile. "I don’t care what it is. I just want to eat something." His stomach growled in agreement, and James chuckled softly, setting the tray down .
Will took a small bite of the warm soup, the heat and the soft, comforting flavour slowly easing the nausea that had been clinging to him all day. The toast, crispy and buttery, was a perfect balance to the warmth of the soup, and he sighed in relief as he ate.
James watched him closely, making sure Will was managing. Now and then, he wiped a stray drip of soup from Will's chin, his touch gentle and affectionate. "You’re doing great, babe."
As Will finished the last of his soup, his stomach finally feeling a little more settled, he put the empty bowl down and snuggled back into the bed, letting the exhaustion wash over him again. He glanced up at James, who was still standing beside the bed, his hands unbuttoning his jeans.
"what are you doing ?" Will murmured, still a little dazed from the sickness.
James flashed him a loving smile, his fingers tugging at his jeans. "Well, I can’t very well cuddle you properly if I’m still in these, can I?" He tossed his jacket aside earlier, and now his jeans were discarded, leaving him in just a pair of dark boxers and a tight-fitting vest. His bare feet padded softly against the floor as he crawled into the bed next to Will, clearly not minding the state of his clothes.
Will couldn’t help but smile weakly as James settled in beside him, adjusting the covers to make sure Will was warm enough. The bed seemed smaller with James next to him, but in a good way, like they were meant to share the space.
James wrapped an arm around Will’s shoulders, pulling him in close. "There. Much better, right?"
Will hummed contentedly, curling up against him. He nestled his head into James’ chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming Will’s racing thoughts. The feeling of being held, of being taken care of, settled deep within him, and for the first time in hours, he felt like he could truly relax.
James’ thumb absentmindedly traced circles on Will’s arm, and Will, feeling the overwhelming desire to be loved and cherished, tilted his head up just slightly to look at James. "Can I kiss?" he asked quietly, his voice soft but needy.
James smirked, his lips curling into a tender smile. "You always want kisses, don’t you?" "Only when I’m sick," Will teased weakly, his eyes a little glassy but filled with affection. "You make me feel so much better… I need some more of that comfort."
With a gentle laugh, James leaned down, brushing his lips over Will’s forehead. "You always get your way, don’t you?" he teased back, pressing a kiss to Will’s temple.
Will closed his eyes, his heart fluttering at the tenderness of the gesture. "I feel so stupid, but... I just want you to kiss me more. I can’t help it. You make me feel... safe."
James’s expression softened as he cupped Will’s face, brushing his thumb over Will’s cheekbone. "You’re never stupid for needing affection, Will. You’re allowed to ask for it anytime. Especially now."
Without another word, James leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Will’s lips. The kiss was slow and sweet, a reassurance more than anything. Will melted into it, his body relaxing further with the closeness of James’ embrace.
When they finally pulled apart, Will was practically purring in contentment. "You spoil me," he murmured.
"I’ll spoil you whenever you need it," James replied, his voice low and steady, filled with sincerity.
Will snuggled closer, letting the warmth of the moment wash over him, his body exhausted and yet, strangely content. "I never knew how much I needed this," he whispered.
James kissed the top of his head, holding him even tighter. "You’ll never have to go without it again."