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Tonight was supposed to be their amazing date night. Shadow Milk himself had been planning a magical experience, if he did say so himself. Unfortunately, Pure Vanilla had decided to throw a wrench in his plans.
He stared down at his boyfriend. Usually the cookie was always well put together. Hair neat, clothes smooth, annoyingly beautiful. But today he looked a mess. Face flushed, nose running, shivering even in the sweater Shadow Milk had so helpfully summoned for him.
It had started earlier this morning. Pure Vanilla had been a little slower getting up than usual. Then more signs that he was unwell showed up throughout the day. Sniffles, sneezes, coughs— all of which the healer had done his best to contain to when he thought no one was around. But Shadow Milk had been watching him. Finally, after what seemed like the millionth sneeze, the beast had decided to snatch Pure Vanilla up from the desk and plop him down on their bed.
Which was where they were now.
“I told you not to hang around all those germy kids,” Shadow Milk grumbled, handing Pure Vanilla another tissue. “They've infected you with their grossness.”
Blowing his nose harshly, the king replied, “It’s not their fault.” The congestion he was struggling with made it sound more like “it's nob the’r faulb.”
“You even sound gross. Horrifying.”
A cough. “Sorry.”
Shadow Milk hovered in front of Pure Vanilla, staring at him. The cookie looked so utterly defeated that he couldn't help but let out a sigh and drop down next to him. “You're lucky I tolerate you.”
Normally Pure Vanilla would chirp back at him with a sickeningly sweet reply, but today he just slumped against Shadow Milk's side. A testament to how awful he must truly be feeling. Honestly, for the so-called “cookie of truth”, the guy sure was willing to lie about his own health.
With another sigh, Shadow Milk began running a finger over Pure Vanilla's forehead, pushing strands of hair. “If you had just said you weren't feeling good this would have been so much easier.”
A weak hum. Pure Vanilla curled up closer to him. His shivering was getting worse.
“Ugh. C’mere.” He pulled the sick king into his lap, wrapping his arms around him. “Better?”
Pure Vanilla started to reply, but the sentence quickly descended into a coughing fit, wracking his entire body. As it eased up, he whined, burying his face against Shadow Milk's shoulder.
“Pitiful. I should give you something…. Medicine.”
“No… no, ‘m fine.”
“If you're fine, I'm a cream sheep.” With a flick of his finger, he sent one of his creatures to fetch some form of tea. It would have to do for now. He got the feeling Pure Vanilla wasn't keen on being alone. His hesitation didn't have anything to do with his own feelings of concern. Not at all.
Slowly, he leaned back against the pillows, bringing Pure Vanilla down with him. The blond has his head resting on Shadow Milk's chest, one hand holding a fistful of the jester's shirt, keeping him close. Shadow Milk ran a hand over Pure Vanilla's back, hoping to lull him to sleep. Unfortunately, every time he got close to drifting off, Pure Vanilla would cough, or sneeze, or shiver violently enough to jolt him back to semi alertness.
There was a nuzzle on Shadow Milk's hand. He glanced over to see the rabbit he had summoned earlier holding up a cup of tea. Right. He had forgotten about that. Gesturing toward the side table, showing the creature where to set the drink, Shadow Milk slowly sat up, bringing Pure Vanilla with him.
The king, who had been growing close to sleep yet again, clung to Shadow Milk's chest. “Don't leave.”
“Relax. I'm not going anywhere.” He picked up the cup of tea from the side table, offering it to the cookie in his lap. “Drink this.”
“Mmph…” Pure Vanilla's eyes drifted open for a moment, only to close again. “I don't… I'm tired, Blue.”
Floating the cup just out of reach, Shadow Milk lifted his boyfriend out of his lap and into a seated position just across from him. He couldn't help but snicker at the look on the other's face. He looked like a sick, miserable, dejected cake hound. Not saying a word, he took the cup from where it had been hovering and held it out to Pure Vanilla.
The healer quietly accepted the tea, sitting there for a moment before he finally began sipping at it. As soon as he started, he drained the cup. He coughed weakly, setting the empty cup down on the table beside the bed. “Happy?”
Shadow Milk brought his hands up to Pure Vanilla's face, rubbing the feverish cheeks with his thumbs. “Positively delighted, Nills. How ya feelin’?”
“Marvelous. Just lovely.” The words were tinted with sarcasm, punctuated by a sniffle. His head tilted forward, leaning into the touch. “I want to sleep.”
“So go to sleep. I'm not stopping you.”
Pure Vanilla groaned, shivering again. “Mmph… I can't. My whole body hurts.”
Sighing, Shadow Milk flopped back against the bed, pulling the other cookie down beside him. Pure Vanilla whined at the sudden movement, but quickly calmed when Shadow Milk wrapped himself around him. “I still can't believe we're doing this instead of my magical plan. Really, it was going to be the best night of your life, Nilly.” He poked at Pure Vanilla's cheek.
The blond hid his face against Shadow Milk's chest, sniffling again. “‘m sorry.” He sounded genuinely sad.
“Ugh. Why are you impossible to stay mad at? It's annoying…” He began running his fingers through Pure Vanilla's hair. Feeling the other lean into the touch, he shifted so he could wrap an arm around Pure Vanilla's side, allowing the king to rest his head on the beast's chest. “Better?”
A soft hum, broken by a cough. Pure Vanilla's eyes drifted slightly open, trying to focus on Shadow Milk's face.
Shadow Milk huffed. “Nuh uh. Close those eyes. You're supposed to be resting.” When the other cookie didn't listen, he brought his hand down from Pure Vanilla's hair and let it rest over his eyes. “Sleep. Dummy.”
He watched as Pure Vanilla's breathing slowed, falling into a steady rhythm. The only noise was the soft snores of the sleeping king. He looked a bit more relaxed like this. Still flushed, still obviously sick, but not as pitiful looking.
Letting out a sigh, Shadow Milk shifted his gaze from the sick cookie, up to the ceiling. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Taking care of his gross partner. How ridiculously domestic. As soon as Pure Vanilla was deeply asleep, he would leave.
He paused.
Would you look at that, the master of deceit, telling himself a lie.
Shadow Milk did not leave.