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Despite the warm body curled into his back, Tim felt incredibly cold when he woke up. His eyelids were heavy and his throat felt like cotton. Tim exhaled, feeling more tired than ever.
“Jonas,” Damn. Even his voice was raspy. The blonde behind him mumbled something incomprehensible, his arm tightening around Tim’s waist. He was pulled closer, Kungen’s face nuzzled into Tim’s nape. “I think I’m sick,” the rhythm guitarist groaned.
“Mhm,” Jonas pressed a kiss to his back. Tim assumed he just didn’t process what he said.
“You’ll get sick,” Tim was trying to pull away. He didn’t want Jonas to catch it which was a little frustrating since the other man didn’t seem to care in his half-asleep state. “I’m serious, please,” the dirty blonde managed to wrestle out of the other’s grasp.
Jonas grumbled, sitting up. “I’ll grab the thermometer, stay here.” It's not like Tim felt like getting up anyways. Jonas shuffled out of their bed, his white briefs being the only garment of clothing as per usual. He had a strange streak of just walking around the band’s home half naked at all times. Tim also noticed how the three other bodies that were usually in the same bed were gone too.
John would always get up first for his morning run. Then would be Johannes, tired but eager to start the day. Tim often got up third, but sometimes Henrik would beat him to it. Jonas of course would be last, the man was a pretty heavy sleeper. The rhythm guitarist swore you could drop a vase nearby and his bandmate still wouldn’t wake up.
Tim suddenly realized he was shivering, his sleep busy mind had started to wake up to his current condition. He pulled the blanket completely over himself. Even the warm spot that Kungen left behind on the mattress wasn’t enough. Tim closed his eyes, trying to relieve how heavy he felt.
They were going to start touring in a week, Tim could only hope that the illness was over before then. When Tim was sick, it would usually take him around three days to be back on his feet. Which was relatively normal, but even then there was always the anxiety of being sick longer than usual.
After what felt like an eternity, Tim heard the door creak open. Kungen had returned to the room. Johannes trailed behind him with a bunch of blankets stacked in his long arms. Did he take all of their spare blankets or something? It was a sweet gesture nonetheless. He opened his mouth, letting Jonas stick the small thermometer inside.
Johannes dropped the blanket pile on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on top of it. “These should keep you warm, I told John and Henrik about your cold. They’re going to make you soup.” He informed Tim with a casual smile.
“Thank you,” Tim rasped once Jonas took the stick out of his mouth. He truly was grateful for his bandmates. Back when he lived alone, getting sick was the worst. He would have to do everything by himself while feeling like he was going to keel over at any second.
“Of course,” Johannes began unfolding the blankets. The Black Sabbath logo spread across his black t-shirt became visible as he draped each blanket over Tim’s shivering body.
“Ok. Thirty-nine degrees,” Kungen stated, staring at the thermometer.
“Damn, yeah, I’ll get a shower started.” Johannes left the room immediately.
A shower sounded pretty nice to Tim, especially with how dry and drowsy he felt. “Jonas?” Kungen set down the thermometer on their nightstand. He then knelt down to Tim’s side.
“Yes?” Calloused fingers brushed stray strands of golden hair out of his face.
“Can I have some water, please?”
His bandmate nodded, pressing a kiss to Tim’s hot forehead before standing up. Tim watched him leave the room again.
Even with all the blankets Tim couldn’t stop the occasional chattering of his teeth. He was so cold. Tim sniffled, his nose unpleasantly stuffed. His attention was averted to Henrik when the bassist walked in with a plate. The long sleeves of his Mastiff shirt were rolled up, and his finger tips appeared to be stained with juice. Tim assumed it was an ingredient from the soup or whatever is on the plate.
“Eat some fruit,” The brunette set the plate down at the nightstand. Tim looked over to inspect the plate’s contents. Slices of orange, apple, raspberries, and blackberries were sorted into their respective spots on the plate. “You need some vitamin C especially,” Henrik picked up an orange slice, handing it directly to Tim.
“Thanks mom.” Though he was sick, Tim hadn’t lost his sense of humor. Henrik snorted, watching Tim eat. Tim shuffled into a sitting position so he wouldn’t choke.
“You will feel better in no time,” Henrik assured him with a gentle tone. Tim definitely felt warmer when Henrik leaned in to kiss his cheek. The brunette was the least physically affectionate between the five of them so Tim would feel extra special when Henrik would show him some. Henrik typically showed his affection in acts of service instead. Or if you offered him a beer. Henrik was quite affectionate after a couple of beers. Tim certainly wouldn't mind a sober, clingy Henrik though. The thought made him smile.
“I’ll let you eat, call if you need me,” The bassist offered a small smile.
“Thank you,” Tim rasped, clearing his throat. Henrik nearly bumped into Jonas on the way out. The two smoothly slid past each other once they acknowledged who they just walked into.
“Here you go—Oh, can I have one?” Kungen placed the glass of water on the night stand next to the fruit plate with a clink. Tim gave him a silent nod, in the middle of eating a raspberry.
Jonas plucked out an apple slice, slipping the entire thing into his mouth. Tim took the glass of water, gulping down the much needed moisture.
“Hopefully you’re better before we go to California, it would be kind of funny if you started puking in a bucket backstage for half of the show again.” Jonas giggled, reminiscing the time Tim got horribly sick during a show. At the time Tim felt awful but now it's a moment the band just jokes about.
“Not again,” Tim shivered.
“Maybe, maybe not. John’s probably putting some miracle healing potion in the stew or something. “ Kungen shrugged with uncertainty.
“If he does I think I would give him a lot of kisses, because I would feel better and no one else could risk catching it,” Tim took a bite of a rather long blackberry. His expression twisted into a momentary pucker, the particular berry was really sour.
Jonas exaggerated a pout, not actually upset.
“What about me? I want kisses too,”
Tim snorted in amusement. “You’re so corny,” Jonas feigned offense at the response. “But yes, I will give plenty of kisses afterward, to you too…I guess.” Tim reached a heavy feeling-arm. Kungen met him halfway and held his hand.
“The shower’s ready,” Johannes piped in. Tim perked up at the sound of his bandmates' voice. “Can I have some?”
Kungen let go of Tim’s hand to point at Johannes, mischief coating his tone. “Taking a sick man’s fruit are you?”
Tim swatted his hand down. “You had some too Jonas,” he turned to give Johannes a nod.
“Ah, Ah, Jonas,” Johannes tutted him before taking two raspberries. Tim felt the warmth of affection spark in his chest at the sight of his two bandmates grinning at each other.
“For me?” Kungen looked down at the raspberry offered to him from Johannes. Tim watched Jonas lean in to pluck a raspberry from Johannes’s finger, the vocalist then ate the other berry. Johannes reached over Tim’s feverish body, grabbing an orange slice. He offered it to Tim.
“Thank you,” Tim rasped, biting into the sweet citrus slice. Tim always liked how refreshing oranges tasted. He liked them in general, both sour and sweet were in his tastes. Henrik had done him the favor of having more oranges on the plate than the other fruits.
“Of course,” Johannes took an apple slice for himself.
The three soon finished off the fruit bowl together.
“Are you ready?” Johannes slipped off the bed, motioning to the door. Right, there was a hot shower waiting for him.
Tim nodded, saving his voice.
Jonas helped Tim to his feet, a strong arm wrapping around his waist. Tim leaned into the lead guitarist’s weight with a light smile. Jonas gave Tim’s waist a gentle squeeze before they followed Johannes out of the room.
As they walked through the house, Tim noticed Henrik and John in the kitchen. Henrik was washing a cutting board and John was stirring some sort of liquid in a steep pot(Tim assumed it was the soup).
Johannes opened the bathroom door for Tim. Warm steam graced his shivering body. Jonas and the frontman exchanged a nod.
“I’ll be right outside the door if you need anything,” the vocalist assured Tim softly. Jonas pressed a kiss to Tim’s cheek before presumably going to help their other bandmates. Tim gave an acknowledging nod.
When he entered the steamy room, Johannes closed the door to a crack. Tim tugged his Pantera shirt off with a low ache in his muscles. Next was his briefs, peeling them off and setting his garments on the closed toilet seat. He made sure to also take out his gauges. Even though they were healed, “ear cheese” still built up every night. It was important to clean his ears daily. He set the black tunnels on the bathroom counter.
Tim stepped into the shower, pulling aside the curtain. A sigh left his chapped lips when hot water streamed down his feverish body. An immediate relief to the sore feeling that accompanied every moment when he’d left his bed prior. He hated being sick.
The guitarist basked in the warmth, turning around to loosen the tension in his back muscles. He bent over, letting the water pour down to his lower back. So nice… Tim closed his eyes and leaned into the tiled wall for support as he relaxed.
After his body stopped feeling like a fish in a frozen pond, Tim decided it was time to wash himself. Hot water wasn’t the best for his long hair, but Tim really didn’t feel like turning down the temperature. He squirted a glob of shampoo into his hand. The guitarist then began to scrub his scalp, his arms feeling heavy as he raised them. Once soapy, he tilted his head after from the water to let the shampoo sit. Tim used the waiting time to clean his ear lobes. He leaned forward afterwards, letting the soap suds stream off of his scalp. Next, he did a similar process with his conditioner, leaving more near the ends of his hair instead of his scalp though.
Tim reached for his loofah when he was done with his hair. He squeezed some body wash into the exfoliator, gently beginning to scrub his body. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder when he tried to reach his back. Shit. Tim flinched, trying to ignore the pain with no avail. He switched to his lower back, reaching the area with much less pain. Tim remembered that Johannes was outside the bathroom. I should ask him to help.
The thought felt a little embarrassing at first, he was a grown man after all. But even the strongest of men can fold under the influence of a measly cold.
“‘Hannes,” Tim’s tone was much less raspy. The moist air really helped clear up his throat for the meanwhile. Tim knew the relieving effects of the shower would only be temporary. Johannes peaked in, his hand resting on the doorknob.
“Yes?”
The guitarist pulled aside the shower curtain, exposing his nude self to his bandmate.
“I can’t uh…I can’t reach my back.” The initial embarrassment he held when the thought first formed crept back into him. Johannes smiled, his expression reminding Tim of a cat who stole the last bit of chicken from their owner’s plate. “Could you..help me?”
“Of course.” The taller man stepped into the bathroom, taking the loofah from Tim’s offering hand. Tim then faced his back to the frontman. Johannes’s long fingers were a cold contrast against Tim’s flushed hot skin. He brushed Tim’s water heavy hair forward so it wouldn’t get in the way. His finger pads intimately traced down the back of Tim’s neck before settling a gentle hand on Tim’s shoulder.
Then came the sud-filled loofah, scrubbing the spots Tim couldn’t reach. The pressure was firm but not hard enough to be scraping his skin to where it hurt. Johannes moved the loofah in circles. He smoothed up to Tim’s nape before going down to his hips, and never any lower. A shiver ran down Tim’s spine, resisting the instinct to jerk his head back while Johannes was helping him.
“Ok. That should be good, unless you want me to do more?” The frontman leaned in close, mindful to not get his Black Sabbath t-shirt wet by making sure he didn't press against Tim’s body. He did, however, rest his chin briefly in the crook of Tim’s neck. His breath was cool compared to the hot water spraying on Tim’s side.
Tim could hear the mischievous grin in his voice. Normally Tim would indulge Johannes’s dirty offers; but, he was sick and didn’t want to risk getting Johannes ill as well.
He offered a gentle rejection. “I’m good right now, thank you,” Tim raised a weak hand and rested it on the hand settled on his shoulder. He tenderly squeezed Johannes’s hand. Johannes then pressed a chaste kiss to Tim’s neck before withdrawing from the guitarist.
Tim turned back around to face his frontman as Johannes began talking.
“Anytime.,” Johannes was about to turn away before his face looked like he just had a “eureka!” moment.
Tim raised an eyebrow, curious. “Thats what I was thinking of earlier! I forgot to bring you a towel!” The frontman stated.
Tim couldn’t help the amused smile that curled his mouth. “Better go before you forget again then,” He joked in a soft tone.
“I will-I’ll be right back,” Johannes strode out of the bathroom, making sure to still leave the door cracked. Tim watched him leave before going back to his shower.
When Tim switched off the shower once he was done. His attention was alerted to Johannes coming into the bathroom with a purple towel folded in his arms. Tim waited until Johannes was able to hand him the towel before stepping out of the bathtub.
Johannes then left the room to let Tim get dressed. The guitarist made sure to get his shirt on before wrapping his hair in the towel. Tim fixed the newly created tower on his head, assuring it wouldn’t become undone with ease. He then grabbed the black ear gauges off the bathroom counter and put them back in his stretched ear lobes.
Tim opened the door further to be greeted with the sight of his frontman. As expected. Due to the shower, Tim felt less weak than earlier. He stepped ahead of Johannes, walking back to the bedroom.
What awaited him brought a smile to his face. His bandmates were sitting in their shared bed with bowls of soup in their laps.
“We thought we should eat with you.” John’s hair was pulled back in a low bun, his loose Deep Purple shirt hiding his stomach. The comfortable outfit was completed with light grey sweatpants.
“Oh, thank you.” Tim wasn’t sure what else to say. It was a very sweet gesture. Johannes went past him and grabbed two bowls resting on the nightstand. One for Tim and one for the frontman.
The two climbed onto the bed after their bandmates, with Tim in the middle and his legs tucked under the blankets. Once comfortable, Jonas and Johannes started talking about crazy theoretical situations. Some goofy shit like fighting three lions or two tigers with your hands only. Tim piped in to note how the lions would probably work together since they’re pack animals. This only caused more playful discourse.
Tim took a spoonful of the soup carefully crafted by John and Henrik, its warmth only amplifying the comfort in his chest. Maybe being so sick wasn’t so bad.