Work Text:
Under the weather, under my care.
For as long as any neighbor can remember, Eddie has worked every single day, rain or shine, holiday or normal day. Not once has he ever missed a day of work, even if he was tired. He tends to get a stiff back, but he never lets it stop him. He’s never gotten sick, not once. Maybe some pollen gets to him occasionally, but he insists he’s “fitter than a fiddle” each time Frank asks about his well being.
The neighborhood grouch decided to pay Eddie a visit at the Post Office. Specifically to drop off his lunch that he forgot again, but it is nice to see his husband before he has to go out and do everything a responsible man like himself has to do.
The soft ring of the bell chimes through the lobby of the Post Office, oddly followed by silence, not even a shuffle.
“Eddie, Dear, you forgot your lunch again.”
Frank walks towards the desk and leans forward to glance behind it, in case his husband was elbow deep in another project and simply did not hear him. Instead, he saw his dear, kind spouse with his right cheek planted on the desk, hat still on and half smushed, drool down the side of his mouth, his complexion less vibrant than usual aside from his flushed cheeks, dark circles beneath his eyes, hollow and shaky breathing.
Frank yelps at the sight; he’d never seen Eddie this disheveled, even on the worst of days.
Due to the sudden noise, Eddie’s upper body shoots up, causing him to fall backwards and land on his back, right on the ground.
A soft groan leaves Eddie’s lips as he props himself up with his left hand, rubbing the back of his head with his right.
“Dear!!”
Frank places the bag of food on the counter before he shoves open the door separating the back from the lobby, running to his husband and sitting on his knees beside him, rubbing the back of the mailman’s head with his right hand as he held Eddie’s right in his left.
“Hey darlin’… what’re you doin’ here ‘fore the roosters wake up?”
Frank presses his hand to Eddie’s forehead, his grip on the man’s hand never faltering.
Burning.
His brow furrowed, Frank meets Eddie’s hazy, glassy eyes.
“Eddie, you’re sick.”
“Wha- no darlin’, ‘m alri-“
Eddie cuts himself off, turning his head and pulling his hand away, covering his mouth with his elbow, a sneeze echoing through the room.
He sniffles before turning back to Frank and smiling weakly.
“‘M alright baby. Don’t you worry over little ol’ me, okay?”
Frank places his hands underneath Eddie’s underarms, hoisting him up and grabbing his left hand once the men stood upright.
“You’re not working today.”
“Frank, honey—“
“I’m serious, Eddie. You can’t possibly expect yourself to function in this state.”
Frank’s grip tightens against Eddie’s hand.
“Please.”
The low, clear desperation in Frank’s voice shatters something in Eddie.
“I ‘spose I shouldn’t…”
—————————————————————————————
Frank had helped Eddie change into comfortable loungewear, tucking him into bed while he laid out the basics of what was going to happen. Frank would take care of him, and he would not work.
“Darlin’, I can’t just be lyin’ here without doin’ somethin’ for you!”
“Yes, you can.”
“I’ve gotta help you somehow!”
“You can help me by relaxing, you’ll heal faster.”
Frank leans forward, pressing his left hand to his husband’s forehead.
“Darlin’, I-“
*smooch*
A small, sharp inhale through Eddie’s nose follows, eyes wide as his spouse’s lips connected with his, warm, familiar, the other man’s hand no longer on his forehead, but on his right cheek instead. His eyes flutter shut as he leans into the kiss slightly, worried sick about Frank but too tired to speak about it. Cold air met his lips as Frank pulls away and stands up with a gentle smile.
“… sweetheart?”
“Yes, love?”
“What about the mail?”
Frank smiles, kissing Eddie’s forehead tenderly.
“I have everything under control.”
—————————————————————————————
Around four hours later, Frank was left with his head in his hands, or rather, his head spinning and Frank’s hands out in front of it.
Eddie was absolutely otherworldly for being able to do this on a daily basis.
First, he had to go to Poppy’s. Pleasant, always.
Sally set him behind about an hour, forcing him to recite lines for some new play she thought up of.
Julie was next; she is Frank’s best friend, so he knew better than anyone else that she could be a bit much on occasion. That being said, he knew he was in for a long and large setback when he saw the little piece of white chalk in between her thumb and her pointer finger. Julie set him behind two full hours, having him be the test dummy for her newest game, Bowling Hopscotch.
Hopscotch, but if you are not on the squares, you have to try and hit the people on the squares with a bowling ball. The number or numbers of the square or squares that the person is on will be your score if you knock them down.
Frank very much dislikes this game and the various bruises and scrapes that came along with it.
Then came Barnaby.
Oh Barnaby.
If Frank felt tired from Julie’s games, he was exhausted by the end of his visit to Barnaby. He had chased him around the entirety of the neighborhood approximately four times. Giving the hound his mail was the best part of the whole thing; Frank was finally allowed to leave!
Wally and Home were a nice change of pace; calm, friendly and a quick visit as he gave Wally seven letters, one from each neighbor excluding Home.
He decided to skip his own house; the bedroom light was off and the curtains were drawn. Eddie must be resting like he told him too. Frank’s mouth curved up at the edges slightly, the exhaustion fading into relief.
Heading to Howdy’s was simple; a minor chat after handing the caterpillar his unreasonably large amount of letters, all from his family. Howdy also made a few snide comments about Frank’s disheveled appearance, such as “Goin’ for a new hairstyle there, Frankie?” Which made Frank’s blood boil and his head spin before he stormed off.
Going over the day again in his head only made the spinning worse, his annoyance growing with each passing second, until it abruptly came to a halt with a loud screech.
Eddie.
Eddie had a 102 degree fever, and Frank was over here thinking his day was bad.
At the realization he needed to go take care of him, Frank shot up out of his seat and began to run home.
——————————————💌—————————————
Eddie stares at the roof of the shared bedroom, his head and vision all fuzzy. Nose clogged, heart hurting.
He feels worthless . Invaluable . He should be doing something. It’s just a stomach bug. Frank is being so caring and all he has been doing the whole day is lying on the bed with a little bit of a warm head.
Everything feels stronger; his emotions, the temperature of the room, the lights, the sounds, the feeling of everything touching his skin.
A blink causes the fuzziness in his eyesight to go away, replaced with warm tears falling down the side of his face, landing on the pillow underneath.
He hears the door swing open, slamming shut as shuffling follows and rapid footsteps flew up the stairs.
The sounds, the motion, all of it calms for a moment before the door hinge squeaks.
“Eddie?”
Eddie tries to sit himself up, unfortunately failing as a large jolt of pain runs through his head, sending him back to the pillow with a groan.
“Oh, honey.”
Eddie feels the bed go down next to him before he feels his husband lightly wipe away his tears, Frank’s other hand on his chest and rubbing back and forth with his thumb. Gentle lips press against his cheek, the aroma of his spouse calming him down significantly.
Light perfume that smelled like roses, a little bit of sweat, his shampoo from his hair falling down the side of his face.
That is his loving, caring husband.
Wow.
Frank slides his arms around Eddie, just holding him for a moment as he feels Eddie wrap his arms around his waist.
“Yer gonna get sick from me…”
“I don’t mind.”