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“ACHOO!”
Taylor startled from her slumber, hearing the loud sneeze from the bunk below her. “Holy hell—Ty?!” She poked her head out from her bunk, glancing down at her brother, huddled up in a cocoon of blankets on his bed.
“Yeah?” He asked. She could hear his nose clogged. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”
Taylor sighed, clambering down the creaky ladder. “Duh.”
Taylor watched as her brother covered his head with the blanket. She huffed, sitting beside him, knocking playfully on the lump of fluff. “Knock knock, open up.”
“…no.”
“Tyler! C’mon!” She huffed, tackling him—er, jumping on top of him, really—and trying to pry the blanket off his head. “Tyler Hernandez!”
Tyler grunted, flailing beneath the blanket, but he accidentally let one edge slip from his grasp. Taylor grinned, snatching it, much to her twin’s dismay. She yanked the blanket off his chocolate hair, pinning him down.
Dang, the fighting sessions are really coming in handy, huh? Taylor thought to herself before returning her focus to the boy pinned beneath her.
Upon closer inspection, Tyler was… a mess, to say the least. His hair was all over the place, his face was pale and rosy in all the wrong areas, and he was sweating buckets. “Just looking at you, I can already tell you have a fever.” Taylor huffed.
Tyler tried to cover his face, but his arms were pinned down at his sides. Taylor rolled her eyes before getting off him. “I’ll get mom.”
“Oi, wait!“ Tyler protested, trying to sit up behind her. She turned away from him to call for mom, but then—CRASH.
Taylor whipped around, finding her brother on the floor. “Ty! Get back in bed!” She yelped, helping him sit up.
Tyler huffed, rubbing his shoulder as he tried to clamber back into bed, and nearly failed. He just flopped on the bed. Taylor sighed in exasperation and pulled the covers over her shivering brother, already hearing their mom’s footsteps from the hall.
“Kids?! Was that you?” Their mother’s voice called outside the door.
“Yeah! Tyler. He got sick and now he’s being a stubborn jerk!” Taylor yelled back. Tyler flailed from his cocoon of blankets.
“It’s true! Settle down, idiot.” Taylor scoffed at Tyler.
“Here, let me.” Their mom opened the door.
Taylor sat down near where Tyler’s feet should be, covered by blanket.
She was holding a bowl with various things, like a thermometer, medicine and food. Tyler pouted from his position. She gently smiled and held the thermometer up to his head, letting it check his temperature.
Taylor watched, casually grabbing the nearest water bottle and drinking from it. Her eyes wandered to the digital clock on their nightstand. 7:52 AM.
“I need to go to school!” Taylor gasped, jumping up.
She hurriedly rushed out of the room, grabbing her things and changing into a comfortable pair of clothes.
Hesitating as she got to the front door, she was torn between going to school and making sure she got the assignments for Tyler and staying back to care for him.
She ultimately decided to go, knowing neither of them would let her stay back even if she wanted to. “Bye mom, bye Ty! Love you!”
“Bye Tay!” Her mom responded. “We love you too!”
Taylor dashed out of the house and into the freezing air—it was really cold around this time of year. The average lows at night were 30 degrees F (-1.1 degrees C)! That’s how it was, living in Georgia. It was only about 47 degrees F (8.3 degrees C), and she shuddered in the cold. She ran back inside, grabbing a puffy jacket with a fluffy inner coating and slipping it on before bolting back out and closing the door.
She cursed internally, knowing she’d be late to first period.
—————————————————————
The door slammed open 10 minutes after the bell rang.
I was already antsy—so were the others, especially Ash—when Ty and Tay didn’t come into class.
I snapped my head up, expecting to see both twins, only to see Taylor with no Tyler in sight. I frown at her, silently asking where Tyler was.
Taylor sent me and the others a look that said, I’ll tell you later.
Ben’s foot was bouncing nervously behind me, and Logan sitting a few desks over was fixated on his notebook. I could see Ash fiddling with her fingers to my left as Taylor sat down.
Mr. Thomas continued his lecture—god, was it boring; he was droning on and on about the history of calculators, like no one cares—but I tried to listen. I really did. But, hah, you know, anxiety’s a bi—I mean, ahem, it sucks. Along with depression, but anyway!
Yeah, that failed. I couldn’t focus for… anything, really.
So later, it’s lunch time and we get to the table. I immediately slumped against Ben. “So where’s Tyler?” I mumbled.
Tay sighed. “He got sick, and it’s like—not flu bad, but… bad.” She hummed softly.
I mimicked her sigh. “Bet he forgot to bring a jacket or something.”
Ash, to my right, had her expression embedded into a concentrated strategizing look. “So, later. Do we want to just carry him? Because if it’s even just mildly bad, I don’t think he should be standing, let alone walking or running from Phantoms.”
Ashlyn has a point, Ben lifted his notebook, looking up from his lukewarm tray. If Tyler’s that out of it, he’s going to be a total hazard. He could possibly injure himself on top of the sickness if he tries to attack anything.
I felt a pit form in my stomach. The thought of Tyler—strong, reliable, stubborn Tyler—being that vulnerable made my skin itch. "He won't have to," I said, perhaps a bit too quickly. "I’ll watch him. I can stay at their place after school. My mom won’t mind, especially if I tell her I’m ‘studying.’"
Taylor smirked at me, though it looked a little strained. "Studying, huh? Is that what we’re calling 'staring at my brother until he takes his medicine' now?"
I felt the heat climb up my neck. "Shut up, Tay."
"Actually," Ashlyn interrupted, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Taylor, "are you okay? You’re sounding a little... raspy."
Taylor waved a hand dismissively. "It’s just the cold air from this morning. I ran out without a jacket like a moron and had to go back for it. I'm fine."
But she didn't look fine. There was a slight glassiness to her eyes that mirrored what she’d described of Tyler earlier. She reached for her soda, but her hand trembled just a fraction before she gripped the can. Ashlyn noticed—I knew she did because her expression shifted from 'strategic' to 'worried nurse' in a split second.
"Anyway," Taylor continued, oblivious to Ashlyn’s scrutiny, "the plan is: we get through the day, we go to our house, and we make sure Ty doesn't accidentally set the bunk beds on fire in a fever dream. Logan, Ben, you're on soup duty since you're the only two who don’t burn water."
Logan looked up, blinking. "I... yeah. I can do soup." Ben nods in acknowledgment.
—————————————————————
The walk to the twins' house felt longer than usual. The Georgia wind was picking up, whistling through the trees with a bite that made me wish I could just teleport into Tyler’s room.
When we finally pushed through the front door, the house was quiet. Mrs. Hernandez was in the kitchen, her face a mix of relief and exhaustion when she saw us. "Oh, thank goodness. He’s been asking for you, Aiden. Well, mumbling for you, more like."
I didn't wait. Nodding absentmindedly, I ditched my bag by the couch and headed down the hall.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn tight. The lump in the bottom bunk shifted as the door creaked.
"Tay...?" a voice croaked. It sounded like someone had run a cheese grater over Tyler's vocal cords.
"Better," I whispered, stepping into the room.
Tyler’s head poked out from a mountain of fleece. His hair was a literal bird's nest, and his eyes were half-lidded and hazy. When they landed on me, a tiny, goofy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "’Aiden," he breathed, the name coming out as more of a sigh. "You're... here. Am I dreaming? Usually, in the dreams, you have wings or something."
I felt my heart do a weird flip-flop. "No wings today, Ty. Just me." I sat on the edge of the mattress, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair off his forehead. He was radiating heat like a furnace. "Man, you’re burning up."
"M'cold though," he complained, leaning his face into my hand. The touch was soft, way softer than he’d ever be if he were healthy. He closed his eyes, leaning into my palm like a cat. "Your hand is warm. Feels good."
I felt my eyes soften and I sat securely on his bed next to him.
—————————————————————
Taylor sneezed while trying to untie her shoes. “…shoot.”
I sigh. “Did you catch it?”
“…I don’t know—“ She huffed, about to continue when she gets cut off by a harsh shudder. I start preparing a blanket. “…’s cold, Ash…” Tay mumbled.
Logan poked his head in from the kitchen worriedly. “What happened? Did something happen?”
“Yeah, Tay caught it.” I called, making sure Ben and Mrs. Hernandez could hear. I turned back to the shivering Taylor, who’d crashed onto the couch. I shuffled closer and wrapped the thick blanket snug around her. I nod at Logan, signaling she was okay. “Come on now, let’s get into bed. The couch isn’t good for your back.” I urged her.
Taylor leaned heavily on me as I guided her back to her and Tyler’s room. I saw Aiden, sitting on Tyler’s bed with a hand over Tyler’s head. I let Aiden handle Ty while I turned to Taylor, helping her up the ladder to her bunk.
—————————————————————
Behind me, I felt vibrations from the ladder, followed by a heavy thud.
I turned around just in time to see Taylor collapse onto her own bed above my head, not even bothering to take off her shoes.
Ashlyn wasn’t on the bunk, just standing beside the bed frame as she unlaced Taylor’s shoes; Taylor’s feet were dangling off the bunk since she was probably too tired to adjust.
I turned back to the male twin, who was nuzzling back and forth into my hand. I can feel my face heating up. “So, what happened?”
“Tay caught whatever Tyler has.” I heard Ash state from somewhere behind me.
“Oh, gosh.” Tyler grumbled. “Didn’t I tell you not to use my stuff, Tay?”
“No you didn’t.” Taylor groaned. “Ugh, this is miserable. Tyler, you suck.”
Tyler huffed exhaustedly. “I suck? You’re the one who used my stuff—I don’t even know what you used, maybe a jacket or a water bottle or something. But you used my stuff and got sick.”
“Or, it’s because I’m in the same room as you, genius.” I could feel Taylor roll her eyes playfully. Tyler grumbled something but didn’t say anything more.
—————————————————————
Soon enough, Tyler dozed off and so did Taylor. Ashlyn was on the top bunk with Taylor, and when I looked she was sitting with her knees to her chest and rubbing a soothing hand over Taylor’s calf.
I was humming a low, noteless melody for a little while, sitting on Tyler’s bunk.
Then, a hand tugs on my sleeve. I glance over and it’s Tyler, barely awake. “Hmm?” I ask gently, leaning in so I could hear him.
I watch as Tyler opens his arms hesitantly, as if asking for a hug. A low chuckle resonates in my throat. I pull him close and cradle his head, leaning over to keep him horizontal.
—————————————————————
I guess I fell asleep at some point, because I woke up on Tyler’s bed with him hugging me from beneath me. Gosh, that position gave me a crick in the neck, but it was so worth it.
“…mmh… Ayden?” Tyler mumbled sleepily.
“Mhm?” I hummed, shifting so I was beside instead of on him.
Tyler moved a bit, turning towards me and cracking his eyes open. “…why are you here?”
“Because you asked me to be, why else?” I tease, threading my fingers through his hair.
“Ew, gays.” Ashlyn huffed from the top bunk.
Taylor sniggers. “Right? Could never be us.”
“Shut up! You’re literally just like us right now.” Tyler glares up at them.
Ashlyn shot us a disgusted look. “Actually, we’re lesbians. Get it right.”
“Lesbians, gays, whatever.” I stuck my tongue out as Ben popped his head into the room. He turned an alarming red seeing the positions we were in as we were—well, cuddling, basically, and ducked out. I could hear Logan panicking outside, saying things like “What? What’s wrong?” worriedly.
I hear Ash and Tay declare they’re going back to sleep. “Night,” I called.
Tyler started snickering. “We worried Logan,” he giggled quietly, burying his face in my arm.
Our eyes met and I looked him dead in the eye. He looks hot. His eyes were still glazed from the fever (that thankfully is a little lower now), but something about his expression just… I don’t know how to describe it. It was—affectionate, almost. And he was staring at me with such a strong longing.
Holy fucking shit. What am I feeling?
I feel my face start to burn. Tyler furrows his eyebrows. “…you’re red. Did I get you sick?”
“Uh, no. No.” I assured. “I feel fine, at least right now.”
Tyler reached a hand towards my face. Woah. What is he doing?
Tyler’s hand was heavy, his movements slow and clumsy from the lingering exhaustion, but he didn't pull away. His fingers, still radiating a dull, feverish heat, brushed against my cheekbone before settling there. His thumb swiped tentatively just under my eye.
"You're lying," Tyler whispered, his voice still a gravelly wreck. "Your face is... really warm."
I held my breath, my heart hammering against my ribs so loudly I was sure Tyler could feel it through the mattress. "It’s just the room, Ty. It’s stuffy in here."
"Liars go to hell, Aiden," Tyler mumbled, but there was no bite in it. His gaze dropped to my mouth for a split second—a flicker of a movement that made my brain short-circuit—before drifting back up. The longing I’d noticed earlier was clearer now, stripped of Tyler’s usual defensive walls. "If you're sick... it's my fault. I shouldn't have... grabbed you."
He started to pull his hand back, looking suddenly guilty, but I acted on instinct. I reached up, catching Tyler’s wrist and pressing Tyler’s palm back against his cheek.
"Don't," I said, my voice dropping to a low, breathless plea. "I don't care if I get sick. Really."
Above us, the springs of the top bunk creaked as Taylor shifted in her sleep, a reminder that we weren't alone, but the small space of the bottom bunk felt like a different universe.
Tyler’s eyes searched mine, his pupils blown wide. "Aiden..." he started, his thumb resuming its rhythmic, hypnotic stroking on my skin. "Why are you actually here? You hate hospitals and sick people. You're a germaphobe."
I leaned into the touch, the "scientific" part of my brain screaming about fever cycles while the rest of me just wanted to melt. "I’m not a germaphobe for you. I’m just... here for you. Always."
Tyler’s breath hitched. He hitched himself a little closer, the blankets rustling, until their foreheads were almost touching. "Is it the fever," Tyler breathed, his eyes fluttering shut, "or are you about to do something really stupid?"
I let out a shaky, half-smothered laugh. "Probably both."
The air in the dim room was thick with the scent of menthol rub and the heavy, rhythmic breathing of the sick twins. My heart was drumming a frantic rhythm against my ribs, loud enough that I feared Tyler might actually hear it.
I closed the final inch of space, resting my forehead against Tyler’s. The heat radiating off the other boy was intense, but it wasn't repulsive; it felt like being pulled toward a hearth in the middle of a blizzard.
"If I get sick," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the hum of the space heater in the corner, "you're making me the soup next time."
Tyler let out a weak, raspy chuckle that turned into a small cough. "Deal," he breathed.
I tilted my head just enough, my lips brushing against Tyler's in a tentative, feather-light ghost of a kiss. It was salty from sweat and tasted faintly of cherry cough drops, but it sent a jolt of electricity through me that made his toes curl against the mattress.
Tyler didn't pull away. Instead, he made a low sound in his throat—half-sigh, half-whimper—and leaned into it, his fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt to pull me closer. The kiss deepened, just for a second, messy and fever-warm and desperate. It was the kind of moment that felt like it should have had a soundtrack, but the only noise was the muffled sound of a car driving past outside on the icy Georgia roads.
When I finally pulled back, just a few inches, Tyler’s eyes were still closed, a soft, dazed expression on his face.
"Stupid," Tyler murmured, though he was smiling—a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes even in his weakened state.
"Yeah," I agreed, my own face feeling like it was permanently on fire. "The stupidest."
From the bunk above, there was a sudden, violent sneeze.
"Bless you!" I and Tyler yelped in unison, our voices startled.
"Ugh... thanks," Taylor’s muffled voice came from under her mountain of blankets. There was a pause. "And for the record, if you guys are done having a 'moment,' some of us are trying to recover from a plague over here. Aiden, get me more water."
I jumped, my face turning an even deeper shade of crimson as I scrambled to sit up. "I—yeah. Right. Water. Coming up."
Tyler reached out, catching my hand one last time before I could stand. He squeezed it, his grip surprisingly firm for someone with a 102-degree fever. "Stay?" he asked, the bravado gone, replaced by a raw, tired vulnerability.
“Yeah, just let me get you both water, okay?”
I practically tripped over my own feet as I retreated from the bunk, my heart still performing a frantic drum solo against my ribs. I felt like I was walking on air—or maybe just lightheaded from the sheer intensity of Tyler’s gaze.
In the kitchen, the light was low, the only sound the soft hum of the refrigerator. Logan and Ben were perched at the small dining table, hunched over a shared textbook, though Ben looked like he was vibrating with unspoken questions.
"Everything okay in the Biohazard Zone?" Logan asked, looking up with a tired smile.
"Yeah," I squeaked, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat and grabbed two fresh bottles of water from the fridge. "They’re just... thirsty. And grumpy."
Ben raised an eyebrow, his pen hovering over his notebook. He didn't say anything, but the knowing glint in his eyes made my face heat up all over again. I didn't give them a chance to interrogate me; I grabbed a box of tissues for good measure and bolted back to the bedroom.
When I returned, the room felt even smaller, more private. I climbed the ladder first, handing a bottle to a very disheveled Taylor.
"Thanks, dork," she grumbled, her voice sounding like a bag of gravel. "Now go back down there before you catch the 'stupid' from my brother. It clearly looks contagious."
"Go to sleep, Tay," I retorted, though there was no heat in it.
I climbed back down and settled onto the edge of Tyler’s bed. Tyler was watching me, his head resting on his arm, looking slightly more alert but still very much "in the clouds." I handed him his water and watched him take a few slow sips.
"You're still here," Tyler whispered as he set the bottle on the floor.
"Told you I would be." I tucked the blankets tighter around Tyler’s shoulders.
As the house settled into a deep, winter silence, the cold Georgia wind rattled the windowpane. Inside, however, it was warm. I eventually leaned back against the wall at the head of the bed, and Tyler didn't hesitate to shuffle upward, resting his head on my lap.
My hand found its way back to Tyler’s hair, my fingers tracing familiar patterns. The "stupidity" of the kiss still hummed in the air between us, a secret shared in the dark.
"Hey, Aiden?" Tyler’s voice was barely a breath, his eyes drifting shut.
"Yeah, Ty?"
"Don't... don't get the flu. I don't think I can handle you being this dramatic while I'm also dying."
I let out a soft laugh, leaning down to press a quick, lingering kiss to the top of Tyler’s messy head. "No promises, Hernandez. No promises."