Work Text:
Max knew something was off. Alright— no one had told him something was off, but he had a sixth sense for situations like this, where he could feel it in the air, his intuition telling him something wasn't going to plan.
It appeared he was correct when his phone screen blared into life, and Daniel's icon stared back at him.
The two of them currently had an arrangement going that worked relatively well for them. Max would spend the summer in Australia, enjoying the heat and the farm with Daniel, and Daniel would come over during Christmas and New Year's, when there was a little less work to do, and a friend or family member could house-sit and look after the animals. It made sense for the time being, they hadn't discussed what they would do when Max retired but Max always assumed he would move to Australia and live on the farm too, he'd grown to attached to his little family of animals, even if some where better than others, and he was sure Daniel was attached too, so he wouldn't want to strip that away from him.
Max picked up, swallowing down any unsettling dread and hoping it wasn't as dire as his mind assumed, "Hello lieverd, everything alright?"
"Maxie," the voice that spoke to him was certainly Daniel's, but it was hoarse and crackly, "hey."
"Daniel, what is wrong?" Immediately, his mind was on alert, and his body stiffened as he gripped the phone tighter.
"Damn, I sound that bad, do I?" Daniel tried to chuckle, but it was half-hearted and not fully there, "I'm… Go,d this fucking sucks."
Max held his tongue; he bit into his lip, feeling his teeth dig into his skin. He would let Daniel continue before he jumped to conclusions. He was always prone to assume the worst; perhaps it was with the way he was brought up, but when someone said something was wrong, he couldn't help but dramatise the whole thing.
"I'm sick, Max, fuck I'm so sorry—"
"How sick?"
For a second, Daniel didn't respond, and Max's heart leapt to his throat, but finally Daniel answered, realisation colouring his words, "Maxie, I'm fine, I know you're thinking I'm dying or some shit. I'm ill— the flu or something, nothing fatal. It just sucks."
Finally, Max breathed, the pressure from his chest alleviated, "Then why are you apologising?"
"Max, my flight was supposed to be two hours ago, I— fuck—"
Max could tell by the way Daniel spoke that he was crying; he was trying desperately to hold it together, and everyone clicked into place for Max.
"Oh, Daniel," he hushed him tenderly, "it's alright, you're trying to tell me you won't make it for Christmas or New Year's?"
"I'm sorry," his voice broke, and a stifled sob sounded through the phone speaker.
"Do not apologise, Daniel, it is not your fault—"
"But you were so excited to spend the holidays with me— fuck, I was so excited to go back to Monaco and spend the time with you too, it sucks that I'm too ill to even leave the house."
"Well, there is a solution to all of this."
A beat passed, then, "A solution?"
"Yes, of course," Max responded easily, "I will come to you."
"No, hang on, Max. Wait a minute," Daniel spluttered.
"Why? Do you not want to see me?"
"Of course I want to see you in person, Maxie, that's literally the only thing I need this Christmas, but I couldn't ask that of you. It's unfair that you have to do more travelling during your winter break."
"Well it is a good thing that you aren't asking me to, I am instead offering to visit you," Max pointed out, he was already at his laptop, seeing how he could get to his jet as soon as possible and have his pilot ready, "Daniel all I want for Christmas is to spend time with you also, so let me come to you okay?"
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I am sure Daniel, I would travel to the moon if it meant being able to see you."
Daniel sniffled quietly before mumbling, "I love you so fucking much, Max, you're perfect— you know that, right?"
"I love you too, now rest up, and I will see you as soon as I can, alright?"
"You gonna be my doctor, Maxie? Look after me and everything?" Daniel sounded lighter, still stuffy with sickness, but at least the mood had shifted.
"Of course, I'll look after you Daniel."
"You're the best, Max. Love you. See you soon."
Then Daniel hung up, leaving Max to set out a game plan and organise a flight to leave Monaco as soon as possible.
The journey there was always long, but as soon as Max was in the taxi, jet lagged brain desperately trying to catch up with him, he considered that flight the longest one yet. He chalked it down to the fact that he was constantly worried about Daniel, what state he was in, and just wished he could teleport to his boyfriend instantly and be there by his side.
Unfortunately for Max, he had no such power, so a flight and taxi ride would have to suffice.
Once he was dropped off at the house, he got out his keys. Daniel had given him a spare key, and whilst Max felt it was silly at the time (he pointed out he would never be here if Daniel wasn't), he was glad his boyfriend had done so. It meant he could unlock the doors and not wait around; too much time had already been wasted when he could've been there supporting Daniel.
He was pleased he had a key because it sounded like Daniel wouldn't have been able to get to Max anyway. Retching filled the silence, the heavy sound of bile hitting water, followed by a weak, pained groan.
"Daniel!" Max called, making his presence known; the last thing he wanted to do was startle his sick boyfriend.
"Max?" It was quiet, but he picked up the reply; it sounded like Daniel's throat had been scratched raw.
Max took two stairs at a time, bounding down the hallway and getting to the bathroom.
Daniel was certainly a sight.
His hair was a knotty mess, greasy strands tangled in each other. His face was blotchy, parts of it red, spreading out across his cheeks in blossoming patches; other slivers were too pale, sickly and ashen as the lighting of the bathroom accentuated the shadows cascading across his face. He was covered in a sheet of sweat, skin holding an ill sheen to it, shirt slick to his chest. The air was thick, acrid, and the first thing Max did was step around and open the window to force some clean air in.
"Hey," Max spoke softly with his attention turned to Daniel, crouching down next to his boyfriend, "you're not feeling too good?"
"Fuck Max, don't look at me, I'm gross," Daniel whined, his voice cracked slightly, tilted high in pitch.
"Daniel, we have seen each other in much worse states. This is nothing I cannot handle," Max reassured as he placed a hand on Daniel's back, "how long have you been feeling this way?"
Before Daniel could answer, he was heaving again, chest fluttering as his breathing stuttered, gagging on more vomit as he clutched the rim of the toilet, emptying his stomach more. A whimper escaped him between the wet coughs, body trembling as he blinked back tears.
"Oh Daniel, I'm sorry," Max reached out to grab a wad of toilet roll, using it to wipe away the spittle and vomit smeared across Daniel's chin. He dropped it into the toilet, flushing down the mess. "Do you think any more will come up?"
Daniel shook his head, instinctively wincing, "dizzy— fuck— shouldn't have done that."
"Has it been this bad constantly?"
"No, when I messaged you— what? A day ago, two days? Time is fuzzy at the moment. It wasn't as bad," Daniel admitted honestly, shuffling a little bit further away from the toilet, "But I tried to eat something, I thought it was getting better, but it all just, you know…"
Daniel gestured to the toilet, and Max nodded, understanding. "Yes, it is not nice, is it? Do you think you can stand?"
"Will you— can you help me?"
"Of course."
Max carefully helped Daniel up. The motion was by no means smooth or clean; it was a clunky action to get him leaning against the sink counter tops, but they managed. Max pressed a lump of toothpaste onto Daniel's toothbrush, handing it to him.
"Brush your teeth, hopefully it will get rid of the bad taste. I will go grab you something to drink, and we will get you to bed, yes?"
Max had gone to step out of the bathroom, but a soft call of his name stopped him from leaving just yet.
He turned to Daniel, "Yes?"
"I love you," Daniel said, looking on the verge of crying. Max always envied how Daniel could wear his heart on his sleeve, emotions always proudly on show (unless the negatives got too ugly, but they were both working through that, together). Max couldn't imagine how tightly bound and messy Daniel's emotions were now that he was sick.
"Hey, it's okay. I've got you," Max hushed him, stepping forward and scooping Daniel into a hug, mindful not to get caught on the toothpaste and toothbrush.
"I'm sorry— fuck. I'm a mess, Max, I'm sorry," he babbled, a sob escaping him.
"Hey, no, no need to cry. I'm here, I will look after you."
"That's the problem!" Daniel's words got caught between a whimper and a cry, "I should be celebrating Christmas, I should be partying at New Year's, you should be too! You shouldn't have to look after your pathetic boyfriend."
"Daniel, listen to me," Max pulled away, making sure he kept eye contact with Daniel, "this does not bother me. All I care about is your safety and health. The only thing I want this Christmas is to be able to spend time with you."
"But I'm sick—"
"And that is not your fault. I want to look after you, I love you so much," Max leant forward and placed a kiss on the corner of Daniel's lips, "will you let me look after you?"
"First of all, gross, don't kiss me, you'll get ill too," he scrunched up his nose at the thought, "secondly— are you sure? You can say this is a hassle Max, I won't be hurt."
"But that would be a lie. You are never a bother to me, Daniel. I will always love looking after you."
Daniel nodded weakly, but he seemed more certain of himself now, allowing Max to pop downstairs and raid the medicine cupboard and fridge. For a moment, Max smiled to himself to see the fridge shelves stocked, half the produce already used. He grabbed a Lucozade, a couple of fever reducers and some painkillers if needed, also making sure to fill up a glass with plain water too.
By the time he was back upstairs, Daniel had finished brushing his teeth, blinking tiredly as Max approached, trying to stifle a yawn.
"Here," Max handed him the Lucozade first, "small sips, I do not want it upsetting your stomach again."
Daniel obliged, taking little drinks out of the bottle, following Max to the bedroom.
"Do you have a spare bucket or bin to use in case you wake up and need to be sick but cannot make it?" He asked as he deposited the medication and glass on the bedside table.
"Umm, the study has a bin, I think?" Daniel sounded a little bit off now, as if his body was finally catching up, aches rooted deep, bones heavy.
"Sit," Max patted the bed, "I will grab a bin, just in case."
Once he returned, the bin from the study now placed beside the bed, he helped Daniel take some fever reducers, gently placing the glass of water back on the table. He looked over his boyfriend, eyes now half closed, even as he sat.
"You tired?"
Daniel hummed an affirmative.
"Me too, let's get you into bed, yeah?"
The long-haul flight was finally catching up to Max, his own exhaustion seeping into him. He was familiar with travelling, flying from place to place nearly every week, and yet there was something about the long flights that his body and mind could never get used to. It was no good being well adjusted to the travelling he did around Europe when he was halfway across the world. He still needed to reset himself.
"Your flight?" Daniel mumbled, "You must be so tired."
"Don't you worry about me, okay? I will catch up on the sleep, I'm sure," he guided Daniel down, lifted the duvet so he could tuck him underneath it. Then moved around the bed, stripped till he was just in his boxers, and slid under the covers too.
"You'll get sick," Daniel mentioned again, turning onto his side to watch Max.
"If I do, would you look after me?"
Daniel responded without hesitation, "Of course."
"Then if I get sick, it's no big deal. Let's rest now, you're tired, I'm tired."
"I'm fucking tired of being ill."
"I know," Max comforted softly, hand coming up to run through Daniel's curls, "I'm here to make you feel a little bit better, so I hope I can."
"Already feeling better now that you're by my side," Daniel slurred his words together, face sinking into the pillow.
"Good. That's good, let's sleep. I'll be here when you wake up. Love you, Daniel."
"Love you, Maxie."
Then Daniel was out cold, snoring as Max continued to run his fingers through his hair, until eventually that stopped too, Max drifting off beside his boyfriend.