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Summary
A sick and stubborn Gavin during a flu outbreak, with a loving but done with his shit, Nines looking after him. A purely self-indulgent fic. If it doesn't exist, write it yourself- right?
"Gavin was in hell. He had died and was now paying for all his past fuck ups and misdemeanours in some form of hot and feverish hell. There was no other possible explanation for it. Well, other than the fact he'd stupidly spent 8 hours standing in the rain at a crime scene in nothing but his shirt and jacket in the middle of December."
