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Coming back to awareness, Val wished he was dead-dead. His head was pounding with every heartbeat, his body ached all over down to the bone, and he was sweaty and burningly oversensitive all over, and not even in a fun way that he could get off to. Every breath was wretched as it passed through his sore nostrils and scraped down his throat, the steady post nasal drip leaving him nauseous. Hell really did have the worst diseases, potent enough that not even an overlord was immune. He was willing himself back down into sleep, not moving, when the sound that had woken him caught his attention again through his stuffed up ears.
He cracked an eye open and shifted his head just enough to view the source. Vox, some distance away over on the other side of the sizeable bed, coughing and hacking into a tissue. He must be on mute because there was no sound other than the rustle of fabric as he moved and the rush of air catching harshly in his airways. Whether it was for his own sake or Val’s, the gesture was still appreciated. Vox’s speakers were always a wreck when he was sick.
Val had picked up this bug from a night out at one of his clubs, and by the time he had realized it was an illness and not just a bad hangover after what had been a lot of partying even for him, he had already been all over Vox in ways that made it practically guaranteed that he would catch it. None of the handwashing, mouthwash and vitamins Vox took after could save him, and Velvette had demanded he isolate himself away as well, to prevent contaminating their shared living spaces, so Vox had stayed confined to his room, working from home until he felt too shitty to continue.
There had been an angry visit, then, Vox zapping into Val’s quarters to complain about how awful he felt and to berate Val for infecting him, and to go on about how much this would set his work back. Val was glad for the company, though, letting Vox glitch and rant and spark until he wore himself out and then pulling him into bed with him and making him eat some of the soup Kitty had just brought.
The next time Vox visited, appearing with an uncharacteristically loud pop that revealed just how off he felt, he was pajama-clad and sheepish, refusing to meet Val’s eyes as he wordlessly slipped under the covers into bed with him. Val had pulled him close, smiling wide as though he had won at something. Rarely did Vox visit Val’s bed, but Val knew Vox well by this point, and Vox absolutely hated being alone while sick. More than once, Val had seen lonely tears sliding down his screen, when Vox thought he was alone and forgotten, left to recover by himself, and the sexy nurse outfit and roleplay Val had started to don for him wasn’t so much a kink as a way to get Vox to accept the care and attention he obviously desperately craved.
Kitty noticed Val was awake and zipped over from her place against the wall to dropper some medicine that tasted strongly of cherry and bubblegum into his mouth and give him a drink of something cool and soothing, also placing a fresh cooling patch on his forehead. Val didn’t care how old he was or how big, when he was sick he always preferred something brightly colored and flavored over pills, no matter how nasty the aftertaste. It reminded him of being small and loved, held closely in his mother’s arms. He looked back over at Vox, whose coughing fit had subsided. He was curled up with his arms wrapped around himself, shaking, and Val leaned over to pull him into his arms. The moment Val touched him Vox startled and tensed like he sometimes did when he was too in his own head, but he quickly went limp and allowed himself to be moved.
Val whispered sweet nothings as he pulled Vox close, voice too wrecked for proper speech, brushing away the tears they could both blame on the coughing fit. Vox’s screen was glowing with a permanent diffusion of cyan, his features pixelated and slow to refresh. It was ironic just how badly disease knocked him flat on his ass, considering he was cables and plastic just as much as he was flesh and blood. The slight electrical potential coming off his burning skin made the fur of Val’s ruff stand on end as he tucked Vox’s face against it. Let Vox just try feeling uncared for when he’s pressed up again the most fantastic tits this side of heaven. The medicine is working its magic and Val’s headache has faded away, he’s quite comfortable and ready to drift back into sleep when Vox shudders and rolls away. Val lets him go, opening his eyes to watch him.
At first Vox’s attempts at measured breathing make Val worried Vox is going to hurl, even though Vox barely eats or drinks when he’s ill, and he dreads the thought of having to get up out of bed so Kitty can change the sheets. He’s relieved when it’s just a sneeze, would even snicker at the annoyed look he’s sure is passing over Vox’s static plagued features, and gently rolls him back towards him to see it. Vox blinks groggily at him a few times, and oh he looks pissed, and Val can’t help but let loose a phlegmy cackle that dissolves into a harsh barking cough. He can’t read lips, but he knows Vox is probably telling him to fuck off, or trying to, but his features fuzz and he’s overcome again. This time with one, two, three… Val counts seven sneezes, each one slightly different in the distribution of how much air is expelled from each orifice, Vox’s normally efficient combo respiratory-cooling system going haywire as it tries to make sure every vent is clear of debris. Val isn’t sure if it’s gross or fascinating. Either way, Vox looks exhausted from the effort, irritated tears dripping down his screen as he rubs at where his nose would be if he had one.
Val doesn’t bother with a ‘bless you,’ such niceties wouldn’t be too well-received at the moment, but he does grab a tissue box off the nightstand and gently tap it against Vox’s screen to get him to stop his futile sniffling. He brushes away more tears from the edges of Vox’s eyes while Vox does his best the blow out the vents in the back of his head (Val wonders how weird that feels), and snakes his second pair of arms down under Vox’s shirt to wipe off his gills. By the time Vox is cleaned up Val has beckoned Kitty over, and she dutifully waits as Val pulls Vox up into a sitting position and gets him to take some medicine. It only takes Val three demanding taps against the smooth, overheated plastic of Vox’s screen for him to let the pills slide into his mouth, and Val even gets him to drink a little and swallow a few spoonfuls of soup. It’s no sexy nurse roleplay, but Val is just as satisfied with the results.
Vox’s screen has shut off so Val can’t see his expression, but Vox seems at ease, and Val adjusts his sleeping form closer, pleased with the way Vox’s skin is less fever hot, his breathing less like the whirr of broken machinery. Val presses a soft kiss to the top of his screen and drifts back off to sleep, fondly holding the man he’s spent the past few decades of his life with. In the dimly lit room, Kitty’s eyes and smile glow, keeping silent watch.