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Ricky and Ben were asleep. Well... Ricky was. Ben had been awake for a while, as usual. He always woke up a little earlier, just to take in these quiet moments. The rare times he could let himself enjoy being held without guilt or pretending it bothered him.
He lies on his side, staring at nothing particular, the morning light dim through the curtains. Behind him, Ricky slept soundly, breathing slow and even, one arm draped lazily over Ben's waist, the other tucked underneath him. Ben could feel the warmth of Ricky's chest against his back, steady and real.
Ben glanced down at Ricky's hand.. He paused for a bit before slowly moving his hand, gently tucking his finger under Ricky's hand, blushing a bit to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips as he slipped another finger under Ricky's lifeless hand. Suddenly, Ricky coughed. And Ben slipped his hand away at the speed of light, his heart racing like he'd been caught stealing.
Ricky was slowly stirring awake, he moved his arm off Ben's waist, the under remaining tucked underneath Ben. "Mornin Brookie.." Ricky mumbled with a yawn, rubbing his eyes before he coughed again, moving his fist towards his mouth.
"You cough into your hand? Disgusting." Ben said.
"I just woke up and you already throwing insults at me." Ricky chuckled, sliding his arm back over Ben, resting his eyelids once more.
Ben looked unimpressed, but the faint blush on his cheeks gave him away. After a few quiet minutes, he finally pulled away from Ricky's hold and sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Come on, shitbird. Wake up."
Ricky groaned, burying his face into the pillow. "But it's so early.."
"Well, you like to spend an hour gelling your hair," Ben replied dryly.
Ricky cracked an eye open, smirking. "Yeah, but you like the way I look afterward."
Ben glanced down at him from where he sat. "I like this better," he said softly, reaching down to brush a stray lock of Ricky's natural hair between his fingers. For a brief second, he let himself admire. How soft it was, how relaxed Ricky looked without all the effort.
Ricky's teasing smirk faltered. replaced with a quick flush before he smirked again. "Aww, how sweet of you, Brookie."
Ben froze mid motion, the realization hitting him all at once. His face went red as he quickly pulled his hand back and stood up.
Ricky sat up, still laughing between small coughs. "Where you goin?"
"To find the nearest cliff and jump." Ben muttered, walking away.
TIME SKIPPPPPP!
The two were at school, and Ben was slouched at his desk, one arm crossed while the other propped his chin. His eyes were fixed on the board, but his mind was miles away. It was just another dull lesson - nothing worth listening to.
Out of boredom, he turned his head and glanced over his shoulder.. only to pause when he saw Ricky.
Ricky had his arms folded on the desk, his head resting on them, completely asleep. Ben raised an eyebrow. Sure, Ricky was the type to zone out or crack jokes in class, but actually sleeping through class? That wasn't like him.
When the bell finally rang, everyone filled out, laughing and chatting. Ben stayed behind, watching as Ricky remained motionless. With a sigh, he stood and walked over, tapping Ricky's cheek with his finger - lightly tracing up toward his temple, half in admiration, half out of habit for sketching later.
"Mm.." Ricky stirred faintly, causing Ben to jolt back like he'd been caught.
"Jesus," Ben muttered under his breath, pressing a hand to his chest. Once he'd regained his composure, he leaned down and shook Ricky's shoulder. "Wake up, idiot."
"Stop.. don't do that," Ricky mumbled groggily.
Ben blinked. His tone softened a little. Ricky didn't sound right. "Something wrong?"
"I got a headache," Ricky muttered, sitting up slowly and rubbing at his eyes. His voice was muffled, congested. "Shakin me like that just made it worse." He snuffled, then smiled faintly up at Ben. "Hi."
Ben let out a small huff of laughter. "Hi," he echoed. "You sick or something?"
"Nah, I'm fine." Ricky chuckled, standing up from the desk. "Why? You worried about me, Brookie?"
Ben rolled his eyes, the faintest blush threatening his cheeks. "Worried you'll get me sick, yeah."
Ricky laughed right before sneezing into his arm.
"Bless you," Ben said automatically, pulling a tissue from his pocket and handing it over.
Ricky raised a brow. "You just carry tissues around like some wizard?" he teased, taking it.
Ben smirked. "What can I say? I'm magic."
Ricky grinned weakly, wiping his nose. "Yeah, you're somethin alright."
The two walked out the classrom side by side, Ricky sniffing quietly, and Ben pretending not to glance at him every few seconds.
Throughout the day, Ben couldn't help but glance at Ricky whenever they passed in the halls. It was obvious. Ricky looked awful. His usual lively energy was gone, replaced by sniffles, coughs, and half lidded eyes. Every time he sneezed into his arm or blew his nose into a tissue, Ben's suspicion grew. But what finally confirmed it was when Ricky turned down a cigarette, mumbling something about his throat hurting. Yeah. Ricky was definitely sick.
Later that night, Ben finally came home after stopping by the art store. He'd meant to just grab a few paints and canvases, but as usual, he'd gotten caught up browsing and lost track of time.
When he opened his bedroom door and flicked on the light, he froze.
Ricky was already there - sleeping.
"Turn off the light.." Ricky groaned, voice hoarse, before breaking into a cough.
Ben blinked in disbelief. "Mr. 'I'm not sick' - coughing and sneezing all day," hje muttered, setting his shopping bags on his desk. He walked over and sat beside him. "When did you even get here?"
"Like an hour ago.." Ricky yawned, turning his head lazily toward Ben. He was lying on his stomach, one arm tucked under the pillow, cheek resting on it as he looked up at Ben with heavy eyes. "Where were you?" he mumbled.
Ben softened a bit. "At the store. Needed more paints and stuff."
Ricky hummed quietly, gaze still on Ben before his eyes started to close again. "...I missed you," he muttered.
Ben's eyes widened slightly, a pink flush creeping up on his neck. "What?"
"I'm hungry."
Ben sighed, shaking his head with a faint smile. "..Okay, bro."
Ben eventually got up and slipped quietly out of his room, padding toward the kitchen. The house was dark and still, his mom and Donna were either asleep or close to it, so he moved carefully, not wanting to wake anyone.
He filled a pot with water and began making soup, chopping vegetables in a soft rhythm against the cutting board. The faint smell of onions and broth filled the kitchen as he stood by the oven, stirring quietly.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, a shadow moved. Ben nearly jumped out of his skin, heart pounding until the figure stepped into the dim light.
It wasn't his mom. It wasn't Donna.
It was Ricky.
"What are you doing?" Ricky whispered, voice rough and tired. His hair was sticking up in every direction, and he was dressed in his iconic wrinkled white shirt, heart patterned boxers, and socks. One hand lazily scratching at his stomach as he blinked blearily at Ben.
Ben couldn't help it. Even like this, Ricky looked.. cute.
"Making soup," Ben whispered back.
"For me?" Ricky asked, stepping closer to peer into the pot.
"No, it's all for me." Ben said dryly, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Har har, hilarious." Ricky deadpanned, but a quiet chuckle escaped him anyway.
Ricky shuffled somewhere behind him, the sound of socked feet brushing softly against the tile. Ben didn't bother turning around, focusing on the pot as he stirred, adding in the chopped vegetables and a pinch of seasoning.
Then suddenly - a pair of arms slipped around his waist.
Ben tensed, the spoon clattering lightly against the edge of the pot as he froze.
"Smells good," Ricky murmured, his voice rough but warm. His chin rested on Ben's shoulder, breath fanning lightly against his neck as he leaned against him.
Ben hesitated, every instinct screaming to shove him off.. But Ricky was sick, tired, and honestly.. it felt kinda nice.
"Yeah?" Ben managed, trying to sound unfazed. "Didn't know if you even liked vegetables."
"I'm not a kid," Ricky mumbled against his shoulder. "I can eat vegetables."
"You sure? You act like one." Ben said slyly, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Why you bein mean? I'm literally dying." Ricky pouted dramatically.
Ben snorted, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. "Shut up, you big baby." He nudged Ricky's arms slightly. "Alright, hands off. I gotta move."
Ricky sighed in defeat but loosened his hold, stepping back a few inches while Ben went to grab a bowl from the cabinet.
Ricky sat at the small kitchen table, slouched over his elbows resting on the surface, eyes half lidded and hair sticking up in every direction still. He looked exhausted but still somehow managed to wear that same lazy grin.
Ben set a bowl in front of him, steam curling from the soup. "There. Don't say I never do anything for you," he said, grabbing a mug of tea and setting it beside the bowl.
Ricky blinked, looking down at it before back at Ben. "You made me soup and tea?" he asked, mock disbelief in his voice. "Wow, I must be dying."
"You might be," Ben said flatly sitting across from him. "But if you do, don't haunt me. You'll ruin my sleep schedule."
"Well there goes my plan." Ricky chuckled softly, stirring the soup with his spoon. He took a bite, humming under his breath. "Huh. Not bad, Brookie."
Ben smirked. "I'll take that as the highest compliment, coming from someone whose diet consists of cigarettes and bad decisions."
Ricky laughed, his shoulders shaking a little. "Yeah, well, guess I'm expanding my palate." He paused, then looked up at Ben with a small, genuine smile. "Y'know.. nobody's ever made me soup before."
Ben froze mid sip of his own tea. "You're kidding."
Ricky shook his head, smiling faintly. "Nope. First time."
Ben rolled his eyes, setting his mug down with a quiet clink. "That's depressing."
Ricky grinned, unfazed. "Aw, come on. You saying you feel bad for me?"
"I'm saying I might throw the soup out the window if you keep talking."
Ricky laughed again, quieter this time, eyes softening as he took another bite. "You're a real sweetheart, Brookie."
"Eat your soup before I change my mind and throw you out the window instead."
"Mm, yes sir." Ricky teased, earning an eye roll and a half suppressed smile from Ben as the sound of quiet laughter filled the small, dim kitchen.
The next morning rolled around, sunlight peeking through the blinds and spilling across the room. Ricky stirred awake, blinking groggily at the clock on the nightstand - 10:03 a.m. He sat up with a low groan, rubbing his eyes and coughing into his elbow. The bed felt empty and cold beside him, and for a second, he figured Ben had already left for school, not waking him.
Then, he noticed the tissue box sitting neatly beside him on the nightstand. Ricky blinked, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he picked it up. "Aw," he murmured under his breath, voice hoarse, "he does care about me." He sniffled, pulling out a tissue and blowing his nose before sinking back into the pillows.
The door creaked open, and Ben stepped inside - freshly dressed, basket of laundry in his hands. "Morning, shitbird," Ben greeted casually, setting the basket down by the door.
Ricky looked up at him through bleary eyes, smirking faintly. "What are you doing out of school?" he asked, his voice all stuffy and rough around the edges.
Ben walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed with a soft sigh. "To keep an eye on you," he said, reaching out to press the back of his hand against Ricky's forehead.
Ricky's grin grew. "You made me soup and stayed home to take care of me? You're really leaning into this whole house wife thing, huh?"
Ben rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised you can still talk that much when you can barley breathe through your nose."
"Talent," Ricky muttered, leaning into Ben's hand just a little. "His tone softened, teasing but fond. "You gonna give me a kiss of healing too?"
Ben shot him a look. "I might give you a kiss of punches if you keep running your mouth."
Ricky chuckled weakly, his smile never fading. "So cruel. You're lucky I'm too sick to fight back."
"Lucky me," Ben said dryly - but his voice held warmth underneath the sarcasm, a faint crack of care showing through the tough exterior.
Ben pulled his hand away, exhaling softly. "You've got a slight fever. And a cold," he muttered, half to himself as if confirming a diagnosis.
"Yay?" Ricky croaked, giving a weak grin as he ran a hand through his messy hair.
Ben just stared at him unimpressed. "Smartass." He straightened up, brushing off his knees, and started walking toward the door.
Ricky chuckled under his breath and climbed out of bed, shufflinf after him. "Whatcha doin now?"
"I'm running you a bath," Ben said matter of factly. "Steam will help clear up your nose and throat."
Ricky followed him into the bathroom, leaning against the doorway while Ben crouched to turn the knobs. The tub began to fill, water streaming and steam starting to rise.
"Maybe I should get sick more often," Ricky joked, his voice still rough but laced with amusement. "Kinda nice having Nurse Brookie take care of me."
Without missing a beat, Ben said flatly. "You also smell awful."
Ricky laughed. "Hey! That's rude."
Ben turned off the tap and stood, wiping his hands on his pants. "When you're done, put the same clothes back on. I don't need you stretching mine.. Unless you wanna borrow a pretty dress from Donna? I bet pink would look great on you."
Ricky gasped dramatically. "Wow. Calling me fat and smelly? Real romantic, Brookie. And of course I'd look great in pink. I look good in everything."
Ben smirked, already walking out the bathroom. "Glad you're feeling well enough to whine again." He shut the door behind him before Ricky could fire back, leaving Ricky chuckling to himself.
Ricky stripped his clothes off and eased one foot into the tub - only to instantly jerk it back. "Jesus, why'd he make it so hot!?" he yelped, his voice echoing down the hallway. From the kitchen came the faint sound of Ben laughing under his breath.
Grumbling, Ricky tried again, slowly lowering himself in until he was fully submerged. The heat bit at his skin for a moment before settling into something soothing, wrapping him up in warmth. He sighed, sinking deeper with his arms resting on the rim of the tub.
For a moment, he just looked around. The bathroom felt strange, clean, quiet, unfamiliar. He realized he'd barely seen any part of Ben's house besides his room. It was weird, being in his space like this.. but kind of nice, too."
His gaze drifted down to the water, and a small, almost bashful smile crept onto his face. Yeah, he'd teased Ben about playing nurse, but deep down, he couldn't help how it made him feel. Like a kid getting a gift from his crush, all giddy and warm inside. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes as a quiet laugh slipped out of him, that same stupid, lovesick grin still lingering.
Soon after, Ricky stepped out the bathroom, hair still damp and curling a little at the ends. He peeked into Ben's room, raising a brow when he found it empty. "Brookie?" he called out, voice slightly stuffy.
"Kitchen!" Ben's voice echoed back.
Ricky's head snapped toward the sound like a dog hearing a squeaky toy. He followed it, padding into the kitchen where Ben was - once again - at the stove. Ricky grinned and dropped himself into a chair, arms crossed and legs spread comfortably, watching Ben with lazy amusement.
"Cooking again?" he asked, smirk tugging at his lips.
"Did the steam work?" Ben replied without missing a beat, deliberately ignoring the question.
"Well damn," Ricky laughed, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, actually. I can breathe much better."
"Good," Ben said flatly. "I was getting tired of you sounding like a telephone operator."
Ricky let out a breathy chuckle, his shoulders shaking. "Do you always have to be so mean to me? I thought you loved me."
"Opposite, actually." Ben said cooly, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He set a plate in front of Ricky, then another across from him, along with two steaming mugs of tea. "Since you woke up late, it's kind of a breakfast-lunch situation."
Ricky hummed approvingly, leaning forward in his chair as it creaked under him. "Can't even remember the last time someone made me a meal that wasn't my mom." he admitted before diving in.
Ben snorted. "Yeah, and I'm guessing nobody ever taught you how to eat properly, either."
Ricky spoke through a mouthful of food, grinning. "It adds to my charm."
Ben rolled his eyes, but there was a quiet, almost fond chuckle that slipped out anyway.
After a few quiet minutes, Ricky slowed down, his fork lazily poking at the left over scrambled eggs while Ben kept eating.
"You know.." Ricky started softly, not looking up yet. "Nobody's really taken care of me like this since my mom died." His tone wasn't sad, just steady, honest.
Ben glanced up mid bite, not saying but listening.
Ricky ran his thumb along the fork handle, eyes still on his plate. "It means a lot, y'know? I think you might be the only one who actually gives a damn about me." He finally looked up, meeting Ben's eyes with a small, genuine smile. "Thanks for that."
Ben froze halfway through chewing, his stomach doing an unexpected flip. There was no smirk, no teasing glint in Ricky's eyes this time. Just warmth. Real, gentle warmth.
And for some reason, it completely threw him off.
He coughed, nearly choking on his food as he reached for his tea.
Ricky raised an eyebrow, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. "Well don't choke idiot."
Ben swallowed hard, glaring half heartedly. "Don't just... say stuff like that outta nowhere. Caught me off guard, asshole."
Ricky laughed quietly, shaking his head. "What, me being nice?"
"Yeah. Stick to being annoying. It's less confusing."
As the day wore on, Ricky followed Ben everywhere, practically glued to him. Every few minutes he sneezed, coughed, or complained, and every time Ben would sigh like he was being burdened by the world... then quietly hand him tea, tissues, or medicine. He acted irritated, but the way he kept checking on Ricky made it obvious: he cared more than he wanted to admit.
By nightfall, they were both exhausted. They climbed into bed, Ben immediately rolling onto his side with his back facing Ricky - the usual "don't talk to me" position.
Ricky lay on his back staring at the ceiling, his chest tight with nerves he didn't know how to name. After battling himself for a while minute, he whispered into the dark:
"You awake?"
Ben groaned softly. "I am now.." he muttered, his voice gravelly with sleep.
"Sorry.." Ricky whispered. Silence stretched between them before Ben exhaled.
"Did you need something?"
"Oh. Yeah, actually." Ricky swallowed. "This is.. really embarrassing."
Ben rolled over with a grumpy sigh, now facing him. His eyes were half open but sharp enough to bully with. "Spit it out, shitbird."
Ricky stayed on his back, hands folded on his chest like he was bracing for impact. "Can I... hug you?"
Ben blinked. Ricky didn't blush. Ricky didn't hesitate. Ricky didn't ask for things.
So Ben smirked, of course. "What was that?"
Ricky shot him a glare, cheeks warm. "Can you not?"
Ben snorted. "What if I said no?"
Ricky frowned dramatically. "Then I might just kill myself."
Ben huffed out a laugh and finally opened an arm. The kind of invitation he didn't give lightly.
Ricky froze - stunned, almost disbelieving - before scooting closer. He eased into Ben's embrace, sliding an arm around his waist and resting his forehead against Ben's chest. His breath was arm and his hair tickling Ben's jaw.
Ben's whole expression softened. He pulled Ricky closer, hand resting against his back, gentle in a way he rarely let himself be. "Don't expect this treatment again," he murmured.
"Aww.. I was starting to get used to it." Ricky breathed with a tiny laugh.
The silence afterward was warm. Comfortable. Too comfortable. Until Ricky's voice cut through softly.
"I meant what I said earlier.. about no one taking care of me since mom died." A pause. "Thank you. You mean a lot to me."
His eyes stayed open, waiting for a reply while listening to Ben's heartbeat.
Ben didn't answer at first. Instead, he bent down and pressed a quiet, lingering kiss to the top of Ricky's head - tender, instinctive, real.
"You mean a lot to me too, dummy." He whispered. "Now go to sleep."
Ricky tensed for half a heartbeat at the kiss - shocked to his core - then melted instantly and smiled against Ben's chest. He wrapped both arms around him now, gently squeezing him, breathing in Ben's scent, soaking in the warmth like he was afraid it would vanish.
"Goodnight, Brookie..."
"Goodnight, shitbird."