Chapter Text
Kip looked up from the scrambled eggs he was making when he heard the front door close softly, followed by a volley of light coughing. He paused mid stir at the sound as his boyfriend, Scott Hunter, turned the corner wearing a plain white tank top and shorts. One headphone was still tucked into his ear, phone in hand. His attention wavered from his phone to Kip instead, eyes aglow in the same affection that Kip had come to expect.
“Morning,” Kip greeted with a grin, looking back to his eggs. “Breakfast is almost ready. We got scrambled eggs and turkey bacon.”
Scott wrinkled his nose at the suggestion, something that he never, ever did when it came to Kip’s cooking. This was an almost everyday occurrence with Scott awakening at the crack of dawn to go for a run while Kip woke not long after to prepare breakfast. It was usually some sort of eggs and fruit, though he would sometimes throw in some various other protein as well, especially before a game. Scott devoured everything, Kip included more times than not.
“I can make you something else,” Kip offered quickly. Eggs were a stable, though the fridge was loaded with just about everything if Kip wanted to make something else. He had a little time before he needed to leave for work.
Scott seemed to realize what his expression gave away as he hurriedly came over to Kip’s side. Normally he would wrap an arm around Kip’s waist and pull him close, burying his face in the back of Kip’s neck as Kip only halfheartedly tried to push him away, often complaining about how sweaty Scott was. This time, however, Scott seemed to be keeping his distance.
“I’m sorry. I’m just not very hungry.”
Kip raised an eyebrow quizzically. He immediately switched the heat off on the stove, turning so that his hip pressed against the counter so he could look Scott up and down completely. “Scott Hunter isn’t hungry? Are you okay?”
Scott laughed good naturally, weight shifted foot to foot as he leaned against the counter. “Yeah, yeah. Must just be too full from last night.”
“That’s not how that works….”
Scott looked as though he was about to speak only to, instead, steal a sudden, broken inhale. His brows furrowed, lips semi parted. Kip eyed him curiously before Scott twisted away from his boyfriend and the food, collar of his shirt lifted over the lower half of his face. His breath gave a sudden hitch as his shoulders hunched and his body jerked forward.
“HrShs’Tchsh!”
Kip jumped at bit at the force and sound. He had heard Scott sneeze before, but not so viscerally. Scott kept his shirt raised over his face, unwilling to turn back around to face Kip. He stood there for a few more seconds before he sneezed again, this one even more intense than the previous.
“RHcs’TCHs’SH!”
“Bless you,” Kip exclaimed.
Scott finally dropped his shirt from over his nose, revealing slightly pink edges to his nostrils. “Ugh, thanks,” he grumbled, hand coming to scrub at his left eye.
Kip cocked his head. “Are you sick?”
“Me? No,” Scott scoffed. He gave a roll of his eyes at the mere suggestion. “Allergies must be acting up is all. Everything is fucking blooming out there.”
Kip had never known Scott to have allergies before. If anything, he was the one most susceptible with the entirety of summer leaving him with a scratchy throat and itchy eyes. Perhaps it was something he had overlooked, however unlikely. Kip tried to hold Scott’s gaze, but the taller man pulled away.
“I gotta get ready. Will I see you at the game tonight?”
“Do I ever miss a home game?”
Scott grinned, that goofy smile that Kip fawned over making an appearance. He reached a hand forward to rest it over Kip’s before pulling away.
A hollow feeling filled Kip ever so faintly. Scott never left without a kiss, or at least a small peck on the lips. Something was definitely off with him, that was for certain, but what it could be was still the question.
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Kip audibly gasped as Scott was thrown against the wall, the audience booing alongside his cries. The puck slipped across the ice with Scott’s opponent easily overtaking Scott’s pace. That wasn’t like Scott to be overtaken in either strength or speed. Scott seemed to shake his head to clear it before he returned to the fray, skates searing into the ice as he raced forward.
Kip could hardly focus on the actual game part of this game; he was too focused on Scott as a person instead of a player. He moved surprisingly sluggishly, missing easy passes and even missing a wide open shot, to which he was pulled off the rink not even a minute later to be replaced with a slightly younger player. Scott hardly seemed torn up about it, sitting heavily on the bench and burrowing his face into his elbow as his shoulders shook. If Kip didn’t know any better he’d think that Scott was coughing, at least that’s what it looked like.
It was only towards the end of the game that Kip realized just how poorly Scott must be feeling if he was playing as rough as he was. He finished the game on the ice, taking a few more hits without so much as a shove back in retaliation. Kip swore that he could see how hard he was breathing, accompanied by the amount of times he kept rubbing at his nose with a gloved hand. Even Kip could recognize the amount of sniffling Scott was doing, especially when his face was projected on the screen above them. It may escape everyone else’s notice, but not Kip’s.
By the time the game finally finished, Kip was chomping at the bit to get to Scott. They won, but barely, and he could see by the way that Scott hung his head as he made his way to the locker room that he knew he played like shit. Normally he may skate over in Kip’s direction or try and share a brief conversation before he hit the locker room. For him to leave without a word or acknowledgement let Kip know exactly how he was feeling.
While the rest of the fans filed out, Kip stayed in his seat, checking his phone periodically to see if Scott texted. No notifications greeted his eyes no matter how many times he refreshed, so he settled for playing a few rounds of Candy Crush instead as he anxiously awaited Scott’s emergence from the locker room.
It didn’t take long for the rink to clear out with only a few diehard fans hanging around, as well as Kip himself. The more time passed, the more restless Kip became. He regularly dropped his phone in favor of gazing about the rink and the tunnel, apprehension coiling in his gut. Thoughts racing, Kip struggled to keep calm as the minutes stretched on. He was just about to break down and call Scott when he finally saw the man trudging out of the locker room and walking around the perimeter of the rink.
Kip leapt to his feet and walked past the first row of seats towards the back of the arena to meet him. His heart hammed in his chest the moment he caught sight of his boyfriend with his duffle slung over his shoulders in a sweatshirt and sweatpants to match. His cheeks were slightly flushed, nose ruby red and raw around the edges. Scott sniffled liquidity before lifting the back of his wrist up to his nose, rubbing fiercely against the raw appendage.
“You look like shit,” Kip stammered.
Scott let out a laugh that turned into a cough, directed over his shoulder as though he was too tired to actually raise his arm to contain the outburst. “Thangks. Bakes be feel all warb ad fuzzy inside.”
Kip winced. “You sound it too. I’m surprised you can even breathe with how clogged up you sound.”
Scott gave another sniffle, possibly for show more than anything else. It led to another jarring round of coughs, this time causing the once sturdy man to lean against the wall to collect his bearings. His head bowed towards his chest, nose starting to run now that the congestion shifted.
Kip fished his hand into his pocket, beaming in relief as his fingers enclosed around his prize. He produced a handful of crumpled napkins and quickly handed them over, to which Scott reluctantly took to mop up the worst of the mess that dripped down to his upper lip. His brow knit tightly together the moment the rough material grazed the most sensitive areas of his nose, a faint watering of his eyes clueing Kip in to just how much that probably stung.
“Sorry. It’s from the pretzel that I got earlier. If I would’ve known, I would’ve brought something softer.” He shot Scott a knowing, slightly accusatory look.
Scott returned it with one of his own, though much less intense than normal. “You don’t need to fret over allergies.”
“You’re sick, Scott! You think you’d play that bad if it was just allergies,” Kip shot back, knowing the hit to Scott’s ego would be more than enough to push him over the edge.
Sure enough, Scott squared his shoulders as he straightened to his full height. His eyes lit in frustration, a harsh contrast against his flushed features and reddened nose. “Kip,” he started.
Kip raised a hand to cut him off. “Just admit it. How many coughing fits did you have tonight? You forget that even without that screen I notice everything about you, Scott Hunter. Now if you would just—“
Kip was abruptly cut off by Scott lifting the napkin back up to his face, eyelashes fluttering while his breath caught. Nostrils flaring, Scott barely had a moment in between his first hitching breath before he was almost thrown forward. “HRs’TCSHshSH!”
“Jesus,” Kip exclaimed as Scott blew his nose with a congested sounding honk into the folds. The napkin was almost useless afterwards, Scott tucking it into his pocket desperately. Kip frowned, Scott’s body sagging with the force of the explosive sneeze. Whatever energy he had left after the game seemed zapped away, leaving a shell of the man that was usually vibrating with excitement after games whether they won or lost. “How long have you been holding that back?”
In lieu of a verbal response, Scott flipped him off. It was answer enough for Kip, who came around Scott’s side and wrapped an arm around his middle. “C’mon, champ. Let’s get you home and in bed.”
Scott gave a halfhearted attempt to push Kip off. “Stop,” he groaned. “M’don’t wanna get you sick.”
“Oh, so now you’ll admit you’re sick when I’m possibly breathing the same air as you?” Kip reached back to grab Scott’s duffle from his shoulders. He gave a slight tug before Scott let go, Kip swinging the bag easily over his own shoulder. It was certainly heavy, but much easier for him to handle than it would be for Scott. Although the hockey player didn’t appear to have a fever, Kip wanted to keep it that way.
Kip was thankful that the rink was pretty much empty by the time he and Scott made their way to the parking lot. A sudden chilly breeze overtook them, a harsh shiver shaking Scott’s shoulders. He leaned ever so indiscriminately into Kip’s grasp, something he would never have done just a few months prior. The darkness of the parking lot, lack of cars, and illness were perhaps lowering Scott’s inhibitions too in a way that Kip wasn’t used to.
“What,” Scott suddenly asked, noticing the look on Kip’s face.
Thinking better about being completely honest, Kip gave a small shrug. “Just didn’t think that hockey players could get cold. You know, always being on the ice an all.”
Scott’s brow raised in response. He didn’t even dignify Kip’s remark with a response, though it could’ve had something to do with the awful cough that shook his frame. For a man so strong, Kip was surprised to feel him quake with each cough even when he turned as far away from Kip as possible when he did so. He didn’t protest when Scott pulled away to continue the fit into the crook of his arm, sweat streaked hair falling towards his face.
Kip lengthened his stride to catch up with Scott, shoulder lightly jostling the taller man. “C’mon, my car is right around the corner.”
Scott gave no complaint as he followed Kip the rest of the distance to his car, nor did he argue when Kip threw his duffle into the trunk before turning to the driver’s side door. Normally Scott would always offer to drive even in Kip’s car. It was something about normalcy or something he would always say. However, even Scott had to admit that he was in no condition at the moment to drive.
Kip leaped into his seat and turned on the engine before cranking the heat and adjusting the vents so it blasted on the passenger side. Truth be cold, Kip was just a tad bit warm now with all the layers he wore to the game, yet he could see the goosebumps sprouting along the back of Scott’s neck through his sweatshirt a mile away. Scott clambered into the passenger side and closed the door tightly before fishing out the wilted napkin from his pocket.
“Oh, wait!” Kip lifted the center console and brushed aside a folded map before bringing out a tiny travel pack of tissues. There were only a few left, but they may be able to last Scott until they made it back to Scott’s apartment.
“Huh’RcSH’Hcsh! HrCSH’TcshSH!”
Or perhaps just the next few seconds.
Scott pulled the thin tissues from their confined packaging and cupped them over his nose, blowing softly. It hardly seemed to shift the rising congestion as Scott leaned back in the seat, hand lifted to massage at his sinuses.
Kip stretched out a hand and rested his palm on Scott’s knee, giving it a tight squeeze. “Hang in there. We’ll be home soon.”
A low hum was the only response that Kip received as Scott tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Kip gave Scott’s leg a final pat before resting both hands on the steering wheel and pulling out of the parking spot. He was extra careful to take things slow and steady in case Scott managed to drift off in the short time between the rink and home. Sleep seemed like it may be a scarcity that night, which meant any rest he could get now would be appreciated.
Kip kept the radio on low as he listened to some 80’s pop music, fingers tapping alongside the steering wheel. Periodically he would steal fleeting glances at Scott, watch the rise and fall of his chest until it was no longer safe to keep his eyes off the road for such a prolonged period of time. If Scott was sleeping, it wasn’t deeply as, despite his congestion, he never broke out into any such snoring even with his mouth gaped open to allow for easier breathing.
He looked so pathetic like this if Kip was being honest with himself. He had seen Scott injured a couple times before, but never sick. He was so regimented and conscious of his body’s needs that he remained in tiptop condition more often than not. Occasionally he would face the odd injury as any hockey player did. Illness, however, was never usually in the cards for him. It was good to know now that a simple cold could still land him flat on his ass.
They were almost home when Scott roused himself, or more like his runny nose did. A deep sniffle caused a fire of desperation to ignite deep within his nasal passages, painful as it was ticklish. The tissues from earlier were all but useless, as was Kip’s napkin from earlier. Scott swore as he patted his pockets for some sort of miracle before quickly determining that would not be the case. Left without many options, Scott was left to raise his hoodie up over his nose and mouth in a similar display from this morning. However, things has certainly escalated from then.
“Huh…heh…hih….HrCHS’tHcs’SH!”
The sneeze tore from Scott’s throat just as much as his nose, eyes jammed shut and body hunched with the force of it. Scott’s entire body seemed to tremble as he kept his hand placed over the collar of his hoodie to keep it from falling down. His face flushed deep crimson under the gray material, sniffling pitifully as he swallowed around the soreness in his throat.
“Bless you,” Kip explained with a sympathetic frown. “That sounded like it hurt.”
Scott opened his eyes blearily, sweatshirt never dropping so much as a centimeter from his nose. He didn’t answer verbally either, only twisted so that his head was rested against the cool glass window, body pressed so tightly against the door that it appeared he may be trying to become one with the object.
“Hun, you don’t have to keep your face covered. I’m not worried about catching this from you,” Kip reminded with a light motion Scott’s face.
Scott’s face screwed in distain, wrinkles stretches from his brow to the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. His body remained tucked against the passenger door, appearing much smaller than the facade Scott usually portrayed. If anything, Kip thought it looked as though he was trying to disappear.
“Dno,” Scott mumbled after a moment. “I dodn’t think I should.”
It only took a few more seconds of contemplation for Kip to put two and two together. There was the heavy congestion in Scott’s voice, the violence of the sneeze, and lack of tissues. Yes, it seemed Scott found himself in an embarrassing predicament, at least for the hockey star.
Kip smiled kindly, a look that lit up his eyes and often would melt Scott’s heart. “I’m not afraid of a little snot. Please, before you suffocate over there.”
There was some distinct grumbling and a feeble attempt of Scott rubbing at his nose through the thick material. Still, once he hesitantly lowered the collar of his sweatshirt down, wetness still showed under his nose right above his upper lip. A hand seemed to be his last resort to rub his nose dry, yet even the lightest of touches brought a burning pain to Scott’s chilled face.
Kip decided not to draw anymore attention to Scott’s predicament as he pulled into the parking garage. He was thankful he found a space so easily as even now that they were that much closer to home, Kip felt his stomach clench in worry. It was so unlike Scott to show any semblance of vulnerability that for him to see it now was jarring to say the least.
After the car parked and Kip switched off the engine, Scott didn’t move. He stared straight ahead, eyes listless.
“Scott?”
The haze overtaking Scott’s eyes only seemed to increase once Kip spoke, giving no indication that he even heard him. Hesitantly, Kip reached out a hand to brush against Scott’s arm, surprised when the dark haired man practically jumped at the light touch.
“Hey, it’s just me,” Kip soothed. “We’re home.”
It took a few more moments until Scott’s mind seemed to take in exactly what Kip said and what it meant. He gave his head a much needed shake and reached for the passenger door before Kip could say anything else. Kip was left momentarily dumbfounded before climbing out of his own seat and trailing over to the trunk to pull Scott’s duffle free. Scott was already halfway through the parking garage, coughing something awful towards his chest.
“Shit!” Kip struggled to throw the duffle over his shoulders before racing to catch up with his boyfriend, hoping to intercept him before he could make it to the elevator. “Wait up!”
Scott seemed to scarcely hear him, though he did stick out a hand to stop the door from closing. Kip was about to thank him when Scott twisted into his opposite arm that was raised halfheartedly over the lower half of his face. “Hrths’TcSHSH!” Scott took in another fleeting breath, only for it to be snatched from his lungs hardly a second later. “Hrtchs’TcSHSH!”
“Bless you,” Kip exclaimed as he pressed their floor number. Scott finally took a step back to allow the doors to close. He rubbed at his nose through the thick material of the sweatshirt before lowering his arm with a jarring clearing of his phlegmy throat. It sounded like he was growing worse by the minute, which had Kip wondering just how long he’d been feeling this way until his body inevitably crashed.
Scott managed to meet Kip’s gaze through bleary eyes. “Thangks,” he responded with a forceful cough, one that left him bent over.
Kip longed to close the distance between the two of them, to bring comfort to Scott in anyway that he knew how. Something stopped him with Scott in his current state. Perhaps once they arrived back at their apartment he would be able to ease whatever thoughts were running rampant through Scott’s mind to help him really relax.
“I’ll see what cold medicine we have stocked. Maybe a decongestant too….and plenty of tissues.”
Scott forced a half smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. At the mention of tissues his nose gave an involuntary sniff that sounded as if someone’s boot was sinking into a pit of mud. No airflow was currently making his way through his sinuses, forcing Scott to breathe through an open mouth once more.
“Scott?”
The elevator dinged on the floor, yet neither of them moved.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Kip continued, gaze steadfast and voice unwavering. “We’re going to get you feeling better, I promise.”