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Neil should've known something was wrong during his morning run.
It had taken everything in him to extricate himself from Kevin's warm, clinging limbs and Andrew's steady breathing. His routine was important to him — it gave him a stable footing to build the rest of his day on: wake up, piss, brush teeth, run, shower, coffee and breakfast. Sometimes the order shifted, but the parts were the same.
Kevin had mumbled something in his sleep, but all Neil could focus on was how the light coming in from the crack in the curtains turned his dark hair bronze. He brushed a scarred finger against the Queen tattoo before getting on with his morning, the happy sigh his boyfriend let out in his sleep tugging on a heartstring Neil was still shocked existed.
Andrew had been nagging him to get new running shoes for weeks now, but it was in his own way, which meant that Neil kept finding his shoes in their bedroom trash can. They worked just fine, Neil thought as he laced up, grabbed the essentials, and made his way out the door.
The warm up was normal. His heartbeat was steady and his breathing was even. Around twenty minutes in, something started to feel off. Neil couldn't put a finger on it — maybe it was something in his gut, or his spine? Either way, he shook it off like he shook off any small concern. The feeling could be dealt with when he got home, after a long shower and a cup of Andrew's coffee flowing through his system.
Neil blinked, and when his eyes fluttered back open, he was on the ground.
"Idiot."
Two familiar outlines blocked the sun as Neil tried to make sense of his situation. It had been a while since he'd lost time like this — not since college, when his father was still the big bad boogeyman haunting his nightmares.
"What happened?" Neil croaked out. His head was pounding where it laid against the concrete of the sidewalk. "Why are you both here?"
Kevin knelt down and helped him sit up before responding, voice tight. It was the voice he used when he was trying his hardest not to chew someone out. "It's been hours, Neil. You didn't answer any of your calls or texts. I was sure you got kidnapped, but Andrew remembered that we can track your phone now."
Right. They'd all gotten fancy new phones for Christmas, full of features that Neil couldn't care less about. At least this one came in handy.
"What's wrong?" Andrew was a master at cutting right to the quick. The problem was, Neil didn't have an answer for him.
"It started out fine, like any normal run. I started to feel a little weird but it wasn't anything concerning." He tried his hardest to remember anything between the start of that feeling and waking up to his two boyfriends looming over him, but nothing came. "I don't know what happened."
Neither Andrew nor Kevin seemed to like that answer. Neil watched the unspoken communication happen between them — a raise of an eyebrow, a subtle shake of a head. Finally, they seemed to at least believe that Neil wasn't hiding anything from them.
"C'mon, let's get you home." Kevin dragged him up and wrapped Neil's arm around his shoulder to support his weight. The world spun as he was pulled upright, and Neil had to shut his eyes to try and fend off the nausea.
It was good that Neil hadn't made it too far from home before passing out. They made it back just in time for Neil to stumble into the hall bathroom and spill his guts into the toilet. It was mostly bile, acrid and burning up his throat and nostrils. His body was covered in goosebumps. As he rocked back onto his heels to wipe off his mouth, Neil realized that he was shaking.
"Here." A cold water bottle was pressed into his hand. Andrew stood, all stoic and crossed-arms, propped against the door frame. For a moment, Neil was convinced that Aaron had somehow joined them. But it was just his vision blurring one Minyard twin into two. "You have to open it to drink, Neil."
Neil knew Andrew well enough to know that there was concern laced into the seemingly careless words. He cracked the lid and downed half the bottle in one swallow, the liquid a balm on his scratchy throat. He took stock of his body: head full of fuzz, stomach churning, limbs made out of lead.
Fuck, Neil hated being sick.
Making it to the couch felt like it took hours. Andrew's hand on the back of his neck guided him all the way there as if Neil hadn't been living there with them for years. He wrapped himself in the crocheted blanket, an old and well loved gift from Renee, that lived on the armrest. He knew logically that he had a fever, but Neil just couldn't get warm.
"Kevin?"
"He went to the store to grab stuff. He'll be back soon." Andrew sat at the other side of the couch and tucked Neil's feet under his thigh. His fingers rubbed circles around Neil's ankle, the point of contact more soothing than any medication. "Sleep, Neil."
Neil did.
When he woke up next, it was to the sight of pretty green eyes and the feeling of a hand on his forehead.
"I bought soup, Gatorade, and ibuprofen. Do you think you can eat something before the meds?"
It had taken longer than he's proud to admit for Neil to realize that Kevin showed his love with his actions. Whether it was training with Neil every night in school, helping him study for exams, or taking care of him and Andrew when either of them were sick.
Neil nodded, sitting up and accepting a bowl of chicken noodle soup. He wasn't sure where Andrew had gone, but Kevin took his place on the couch. The soup was hot and salty, probably from a can and boiled on the stove. It was soothing not just on his stomach, but for his nerves. After half the soup was gone, Neil accepted and swallowed a couple of fever reducers.
Andrew returned to the living room, bringing a bowl of popcorn and a DVD from their collection to put on for the evening.
Neil cuddled into Kevin's side, feeling small and safe and secure as he breathed in the smell of Kevin's aftershave. Being sick sucked, but being taken care of by his two boyfriends made it so much more bearable.