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Guy woke up in the early hours of Saturday morning with his head pounding more than normal. His throat is itchy, a type of scratch that comes from the cold or flu, not from his…nightly activities. He hasn’t seen Jasper in person recently; the older man has been very preoccupied with his business, as he likes to say. He doesn’t particularly like to go into detail with Guy, telling him that the more Guy knows, the more danger he is in. Which is certainly a comforting phrase.
The past week of schoolwork has been grueling, assignment after assignment, with flu season creeping up, and everyone thinking about it hurts his head.
Guy’s throat swells up, and he starts coughing, a lung rattling cough that brings slimy mucus up his throat. He feels the pressure building at the back of his head; it pounds, not unlike the overwhelming feeling of too many thoughts rattling around in his bowl. The throbbing in his head does little to distract him from the ache in the rest of his body or the churning feeling in his stomach. He hugs his knees to his chest, desperately trying to trick himself into thinking it’s someone else holding him.
He can’t help but think about how pathetic he must look. Snotty, whiny, a lotta bit sweaty. He sniffs himself and grimaces; he smells like rotten onions. Just wholly unattractive. Very much so, not what their arrangement is about.
I should message Jasper. He shouldn’t see me like this. He’ll be so turned off. He can just see the man’s face in his mind, sneering down at him as Guy covers him in all his germs. No, thank you! He doesn’t need to give Jasper any more reasons to leave his pathetic ass!
Guy scrambles for his phone, it’s cracked in the corner and old. Older than a lot of his fellow students, but it works. 12%. He didn’t plug it in when he came home, of course not. His shaky fingers type out a nearly comprehensible message to his ‘Sugar Daddy’.
>> Ey jas canneling 2nite, dont come over.
He can barely see the words he’s typed, the letters swimming around his vision like alphabet soup in a blender. Good enough, Jasper would get the point. Probably.
The sun has already risen, so the odds of the older man seeing this message until later tonight are low. Lower than low. His phone pings. Guy would roll his eyes and groan if his head didn’t hurt. If the sun peaking through his shitty curtains wasn’t making him want to curl up and die on the spot. He turns his phone around to see what the other man has said.
>> That’s not any language I know, baby. Everything alright?
He groans miserably, throwing one hand over his head, making his brain rattle around his skull. Stop moving so much, you idiot! He rolls—slowly—onto his side and types out another message.
>> m sick. don t come
>> sorry
>> ican makkkke up 2 u
Jasper responds immediately, much to Guy’s surprise and then horror.
<< Oh, my poor boy.
<< There’s no making it up.
>> wait sorr plwase i csns i m fine
Message Read
Tears burn in his eyes, and he can’t fight his lip wobbling. Oh no, oh fuck. He should’ve just sucked it up and gone out with him. What’s a cold to a fucking vampire? He’s throwing his phone before he can think about the consequences of it breaking completely, and throwing himself onto his stomach. It’s easier to stifle his cries that way, no noise complaints or chance of overhearing a neighbor’s comment about it.
He doesn’t want to get out of bed for anything, ever again. He can die of heartbreak right there, let the mice in the walls eat him until he’s just a pile of bones. Those poor mice are gonna be so bummed when they see just how little meat is on him. Sorry mice. There’s probably bread in the cupboard for them, if they’re really hungry. Maybe they will come out before he melts away, give him that ounce of touch he craves before he passes.
The culmination of his cold and bitter heartbreak finally reaches its peak, and Guy drifts off in a restless sleep, dreaming of sad little mice chewing on his bones.
He’s jolted awake by knocking. He feels worse, so much worse. He’s cold and hot, his blanket is scratchy, and he’s for sure sweating through his clothes, but he’s so cold. There are dried tear tracks across his face, and he can't even remember what he had been crying about, let alone how long ago. He swipes at his face, feeling crusty and gross.
He’s paid rent this month, so it better not be his landlord. It shouldn’t be. He glares across the apartment at the door, head pounding even harder than when he first woke up. The knocking stops, and he flops back into his pillows, grateful for the silence, before the knocking comes again. Louder. Faster.
Go away!!
“It’s me, just let me in, puppy.” Jasper’s voice is muffled through the door, so much so that Guy thinks this is all a fever dream coming to haunt him. Why would Jasper be here? It’s the middle of the day, and he’s sick. He’s not going to entertain the hallucination of Jasper.
“Cute, but I am very real and don’t want to be out here with your nosy neighbors.”
‘Come on, sweetheart. Let me in.’ Jasper’s voice is soft in his head, like he’s trying to tiptoe around Guy. It almost feels like Jasper is petting him, and oh, Guy would like that. Please.
He slides from his bed, hunched over and cloaked in his blanket, and wobbles to the door. His feet are bare on the cold wood floor, and his toes curl in distaste. Hopefully, hallucination Jasper is just as good as real Jasper. It’s already pretty convincing. His arm aches as he reaches up to unlatch the door, making him feel like he is moving through syrup. He barely cracks the door open when hallucination Jasper pushes in, followed by the smell of…burnt flesh?
Guy gags, his stomach mimicking an intense washing-machine cycle. He doesn’t have anything in his stomach, but a good amount of acid is trying to climb up his throat.
“I know, not the greatest timing, but hey! Made it in one piece, baby!” Possible-hallucination-Jasper wipes ash from his hands before turning his attention to Guy’s apartment. His eyes sparkle the same way normal Jasper’s eyes sparkle. Guy smiles up at him. He feels lightheaded from the cold, his head fuzzy.
“I like your eyes, hallucination-Jasper… they sparkle.” Jasper only has a few inches on Guy, but he had to crane his head back to look at him anyway. Mostly because neither of them understood personal space, but Guy wasn’t going to complain about that. He liked it. His head goes back, knocking him off balance, and potentially sending him to the floor if it weren’t for hallucination-Jasper catching him and pulling him against his chest. Guy nuzzles into Jasper's chest; he smells slightly singed still, but his touch is cool against his forehead.
So nice. Wanna stay like this, please. Don’t leave me, Hallucination-Jasper. Guy shakily starts petting hallucination-Jasper’s arm, and touching him feels so nice.
‘You know I can hear you, baby? I’m not a hallucination. You’re really out of it, aren't you, kid?’
He maneuvers Guy back toward his bed, pushing him to sit. Maybe-Jasper gives him a once-over, tilting Guy’s head back and pressing his hand to his forehead. Possibly-Jasper clicks his tongue and uses the same hand to push back Guy’s sweat-soaked hair, scratching his scalp with extreme caution.
“Forgot I don’t really have a sense for temperature anymore…how long have you been like this?”
Guy doesn’t hear him, because he’s in fucking heaven.
His claws just barely press against his scalp, the perfect amount of pressure to make his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“…mmmpphhh…”
“That bad, huh? Should’ve called me the second you felt your throat itch, baby.” Jasper pushes him to lie down, rescuing his blanket that had pooled at his feet, and he begins to tuck the sweaty human into the bed.
Guy whines, “I didn’t notice till this mornin', promise.”
“Uh-huh, sure, sweetheart. Do you want chicken noodle or tomato soup? Do you have any food, actually?” Hallucination-Jasper, or just Jasper? Guy still isn’t convinced, but at this point, he’s been forced into bed, so he may as well be real.
“Have bread, but ’s for my friends…”
Jasper cocks an eyebrow, his lip curling in an amused smile. “Your friends, you say? Will these friends let you feed yourself for once?”
“I dunno, you can ask ‘em.” Guy wiggles one hand from his blanket burrito and points to the wall. He’s pretty sure the mice have a little hole to get through over there. Jasper squints at him.
“The mice are your friends?”
Guy nods enthusiastically, or as much as he can with what is most likely a high-grade fever coasting through his body with full shivers going along with it. Jasper’s eyebrows arched as Guy stared blankly at him, his usually calm and smug demeanor slowly morphing into concern.
“Ok, so we are going to order you,” Jasper softly pokes Guy’s nose. “So many groceries and medications. Gotta get you back up and running, before your case study presentation on Wednesday.”
“How d’you know ‘bout that?” His vowels slur together, but they make more sense than his texting, that’s for sure. He’s trying to wrack his brain on whether he told Jasper about that assignment or not, but nothing is coming up.
Jasper momentarily ignores him, claws clicking against the screen of his much nicer phone. Guy misses the claws in his hair; he wonders what he has to do to get them back. Maybe he would pet him if Guy gave him a blowjob?
Jasper tosses his phone somewhere on the bed, his hands tangling in Guy’s hair and rubbing from his temples to the back of his head. It brings him closer to Guy, enough to press kisses to Guy’s jaw and run the tip of his nose to his cheek.
“Baby, these hands are yours for whatever, just ask. No blowjob required.” Guy shivers at the feeling of Jasper’s lips against his neck. He has such a cooling effect against his heated skin, better than a cold shower or lying on the tile in his tiny kitchen. “What can I do to make it better?”
“Bite me ‘n make me a vampire.” Jasper laughs so hard it shakes Guy, not that he minds, humming softly as his laugh dies out. “Won’t be sick…”
Get to be with you forever…
“You know, you normally make it hard for me to pick up on all your more ‘cute’ thoughts. Just think of how grumpy you’re gonna be when you’re of sound mind.”
Jasper pulls his face just far enough away from his own, making Guy go a little cross-eyed in his effort to look at him. The vampire shifts to hold his face in both hands, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on his cheeks. Guy melts into his hold, kissing the pad of his thumb each time it meets his mouth.
Jasper pushes an image to him, handling it with so much care that it makes Guy’s teeth ache, of what Jasper sees in this moment. Flushed and awe-filled Guy, doe-eyed and trusting, with pretty eyelashes that blink oh so slowly at him, and plush pink lips pressed against Jasper’s palm.
Guy flushes impossibly deeper.
“You think ‘m pretty?”
“I’ve always thought you were pretty, sweetheart.”
Guy’s brain shuts down even harder.
“Oh, well, you! You! Are pretty, too!” It comes out strangled and squeaky, his throat still swollen and itchy. Pretty isn't the right word, Jasper is stunning, beautiful, out of this world handsome! He’s got the looks and charms of an old Hollywood actor, one who’s played righteous cowboys or suave spies. And then times that by ten!
Jasper’s face softens further, his eyes fluttering half shut as he presses his mouth to Guy’s. Jasper moves from his perch on the side of Guy’s bed, strong thighs framing Guy’s waist as he deepens the kiss. The press of his tongue to Guy’s lip is what brings his slow-functioning brain up to speed once more. Sick, I am sick! He turns his head to the side, breaking the connection with a string of spit between them. Shit!
“Gonna get you sick! Don’t kiss me!”
Jasper guides him back with a caress to his jaw and a smug smile that doesn't actually read as smug. More of a ‘know-it-all’ smile. Rude. Jasper shrugs, nosing at the pulse point on his neck lazily.
“Not human.” Jasper kisses just below his jaw, tongue slipping out just enough to tease.
Guy doesn’t have a great grasp on time, especially since waking up with the building fever in his body, but it slips away from him even faster as Jasper smothers him with attention. He indulges him with gentle touches, petting his sweat-soaked hair and kissing Guy’s face, taking care to avoid his mouth. Guy can finally slump into his bed, the thick cotton in his head sliding its way down his list of concerns as Jasper massages away the achiness in his bones.
He doesn’t notice that he’s slipped into a light doze, complete with his mouth open and a quiet snore, until there’s another knock at the door and Guy jolts awake with a wild expression. Jasper hushes him, pushing him down by the shoulder until he’s once again horizontal and climbs off of him.
Guy watches him saunter across the room and swing open the door, accepting an outrageous amount of groceries—reusable grocery bags, that’s so cute—from a man, handing over a handful of cash, and then kicks the door shut with his foot.
Jasper is a domestic vision, glowing despite the limited sunlight in Guy’s terrible apartment, arms overflowing with…vegetables? And a rotisserie chicken?
Huh.
Guy rolls onto his stomach, momentarily making himself so nauseous that his mouth fills with saliva and he’s almost positive he’s going to barf as he holds impossibly still until it eventually passes, then pulls his flat pillow into his arms and under his chin. He watches as Jasper settles the haul on the sorry excuse of a counter and puttering around the kitchen, putting things away and digging for others. Once he has a pot on the stove, Guy’s only pot, he returns to Guy’s bedside with a bottle of medicine.
Jasper softly smacks Guy’s hand away when he reaches for it; instead, he fills the cap and holds it to Guy’s mouth. He’s careful not to let a drop spill, guiding Guy like it’s something he’s done for him for years. The syrup is a despicable cherry flavor. Guy barely fights spitting it out, his only truly conscious thought being ‘don’t embarrass yourself in front of Jasper.’
Jasper laughs at his pinched face, swiping his thumb against Guy’s bottom lip and then tucking a wayward stand of hair behind his ear.
“Close your eyes, baby, you need to sleep.”
He flops back into his pillow, eyes drooping, fading back into unconsciousness as he watches Jasper in his kitchen. The sound of him humming some unknown tune is all the more healing to Guy than any medicine ever could be, the warm feeling healing him from the inside out. Excluding his stuffed nose, Guy’s mostly sure he will be cursed to barely be able to breathe out of his nostrils forever. Guy manages another brief moment of sleep, body heavy like he’s underwater.
At some point, Jasper’s humming is accompanied by actual music; it’s music that's easily older than Guy based on just how twangy the guitar is and the presence of what he thinks are fiddles playing from his phone.
Face smushed against his pillow, he cracks one eye open and is greeted by the sight of Jasper cooking and swaying to the music. He sways his hips from side to side, occasionally taking simple steps that end with a slow spin. Guy’s sickness is suddenly forgotten, his consciousness entirely enchanted by how sickly sweet Jasper is.
The song fades into the next, and a man with a faint southern accent begins crooning:
“First, I get cold, then hot
Think I'm on fire, but I'm not
Oh, what a pain I've got, it must be love
There's nothing I can do, all that I want is you
Look what I'm going through, it must be love.”
Guy stumbles out of his bed, barely catching himself from tripping over his own feet, and attaches himself to Jasper’s back. His head spins from the sudden movement, but Jasper is a solid man and doesn’t even budge from Guy’s friendly ambush. He’s wrapped his arms around Jasper so tightly that it would take a damn crowbar to detach Guy from him, and Guy would fight dirty if someone actually tried to remove him.
His face lines up perfectly against the back of Jasper’s neck, and Guy delights in nosing at the exposed skin, even when his silver hair tickles him.
Jasper turns his head, catching his eye before humming once more and swaying at a much slower pace. Guy knows the only reason he doesn’t slump to the floor is that Jasper bears his weight like it's nothing, letting Guy drape his body across him as he continues cooking. Guy peeks over his shoulder, spying the contents of the pot.
Soup.
Jasper is making him soup. Chicken noodle soup.
“You must be the dream I've been dreaming of
Oh, what a feeling, it must be love.”
The man in the song is right, Guy must be in love. He’s stupidly, insanely in love with Jasper, which makes his heart hurt and his pulse race.
Jasper’s heart beats in sync with Guy’s, nearly indecipherable from one another.
He shoves his face against Jasper’s shoulder blade, but he’s already blown his cover with a loud and wet sniffle. Jasper can no doubt feel the wet patch through his shirt from Guy’s tears, but he doesn't mention them.
Instead, he pulls Guy around to his front, wrapping him up in his arms and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Guy chokes as his body attempts to clear his lungs of phlegm, coughing weakly into Jasper’s chest. The older man rubs soothing circles on his back, a quiet hushing sound coming from his mouth.
When Guy finally settles, Jasper whispers in his ear, pushing a deep longing into his mind.
“I love you too, snot and all.”