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Buttercup had never seen Butch like this.
Usually, he was all cocky smirks, loud laughter, and endless energy—the kind of guy who acted like he could punch a cold in the face and walk it off. But now? He looked like a melted popsicle in a blanket cocoon, hair a mess, nose red, and voice raspier than a broken record.
He sniffled loudly from the couch, buried under three mismatched throws. The tissue box sat at his side like a loyal sidekick, nearly empty.
Buttercup stood in the doorway, arms crossed, one brow raised. “You look like death.”
Butch glanced at her, eyes half-lidded. “Gee, thanks. Your bedside manner’s top-notch.”
She snorted, walking over to him with a mug of honey-lemon tea. “Don’t worry, I’ll nurse you back to health. But I’m charging interest.”
He grinned weakly, taking the mug. “What kind of interest?”
“You owe me foot rubs for a month. And you’re watching all the rom-coms I pick. No complaints.”
“Cruel,” he mumbled before taking a sip. He grimaced. “Tastes like sadness.”
“It’s medicine,” she said, sitting beside him. “You want it to taste like cake?”
“Yes.”
She rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. She couldn’t help it—Butch being sick was strangely... adorable. Not that she’d ever say it out loud.
He slumped against her, his head gently bumping her shoulder. “Buttercup,” he groaned, voice all gravel, “I think I’m dying.”
“You have a cold.”
“An aggressive cold.”
“You’ll survive.”
He pouted, and she almost laughed. “I don’t wanna survive. I want cuddles.”
Buttercup paused. There were few moments when Butch dropped the tough-guy act completely, but this was one of them. Vulnerable, sniffly, needy. And for once, she didn’t mind being the strong one.
“Fine,” she muttered, adjusting so he could lean against her more comfortably. “But just for a bit.”
He nestled closer, sighing like he’d just been saved from the brink of death. “You’re warm.”
“You’re sweaty.”
“Don’t ruin the moment.”
She chuckled, wrapping one arm around him. He really was burning up. She reached over to feel his forehead—still warm.
“You take anything yet?”
“Only your insults.”
She gave him a light smack on the arm. “I meant medicine, dumbass.”
Butch gave her a sideways glance. “You gonna force-feed me cough syrup like a baby?”
“If you act like one, yeah.”
He groaned, hiding his face in her shoulder. “Please don’t make me drink that stuff. It’s evil in liquid form.”
“But it’ll help.”
“I’d rather perish.”
She let out a laugh. “You’re so dramatic.”
He peeked up at her, a weak smile on his face. “You love it.”
“Do I?” she teased.
“You must. You’re still here.”
She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she reached over to the coffee table, grabbed the thermometer, and stuck it in his ear before he could protest.
“103,” she muttered. “Great. You’re actually burning up.”
“Y’know,” he said, “I’d make a joke about being hot, but I think even my charm’s on sick leave today.”
Buttercup shook her head and got up. “I’m getting you that syrup.”
“Nooo—”
“Shut it, Butch. You’ll thank me later.”
She walked off to the kitchen, shaking her head with a small grin. As much as he whined, it was kind of sweet seeing this side of him. He let her take care of him without the usual ego and banter. It was different. Kinda... nice.
When she came back, he was attempting to sit up straight, blanket slipping off one shoulder. She handed him the little cup of syrup.
“I’m watching you drink it.”
“This is abuse,” he muttered, but downed it anyway, face scrunched the whole time. “Ugh. I regret everything.”
“You’ll feel better in an hour.”
“Doubt it.”
She settled back beside him, pulling the blanket over them both this time. “Stop being a baby.”
“I’m not,” he whispered, already leaning against her again, eyes drooping. “You’re just... comfy.”
Buttercup glanced at him. His breathing had slowed, his hand loosely clutching her wrist like some kind of lifeline. And just like that, the room was quiet, save for the low hum of the TV and the occasional sniffle.
She rested her head against his. “You’re lucky I like you, Butch.”
He didn’t answer—but the way he gently squeezed her wrist before drifting off said everything.