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"Elliot… you're burning up." The voice of his little sister breaks through Elliot's fever-induced stupor, accompanied by the withdrawal of her small hand from his overheating forehead. "I told you that working so much was gonna affect you in the long run. You should rest today, at least."
"I- no? Rest? Mia, you know we have bills to pay. I can't afford to be missing work just because I've got some flu or whatever-" Elliot is interrupted midsentence by a hacking cough that scrapes at his raw throat as it passes. Mia patiently waits for him to finish, all the while bearing an unbearably sympathetic expression- Elliot feels both cursed and incredibly lucky to have such a caring sister. More of the latter, if he was really being honest with himself.
"Ells, don't be ridiculous. You're clearly in no state to do anything right now, I'm sure you don't want to go and get all your coworkers sick, and we have more than enough money for you to take a sick day." For being his little sister, Elliot often finds that she's the one having to talk sense into him. In other words, Mia has a point- a fact that Elliot is unfortunately forced to accept.
Elliot decides to make a little show out of groaning in defeat, if only to entertain Mia- watching her giggle at his overblown reaction makes him feel a little better about the fact she's making him stay home today. "Ugh, fine. But you don't get to stay home from school just because I'm sick, alright? I'll call you a taxi or something."
"I know, I know. Education is important and blah blah blah." Mia slides off the edge of Elliot's large bed, where she'd been perched for the duration of their impromptu health exam, and makes for where his phone lies on the nearby nightstand. "But you still need someone to look after you. Can't have you sneaking off to work while I'm at school."
Elliot won't say he isn't guilty of doing that. But was getting him a babysitter really necessary?
Once he registers that Mia is reaching for his phone, Elliot's wandering mind is rudely dropped back into reality. "Mia, no. Mia, are you about to look through my phone-" Interrupted by another coughing fit, he instead makes a scramble to push the heavy covers off him and snatch the device out of her hands, but all she does is move away, already typing in the passcode. God, why had he ever given her that information in the first place? "Mia. That's private property, you know!"
"Whaat? Are you hiding something from me, Ells? Could it be… did you finally get a boyfriend?" Mia dissolves into a fit of giggles at the idea, and Elliot violently shakes his head in denial- this, however, prompts a splitting headache to make itself known, and he has to massage his temples for a good thirty seconds before it finally leaves him be.
"C'mon, it can't be that embarrassing. I won't make fun of you unless you've named your special someone's number 'Pookie Wookie Honey Bear' or something along those lines." Elliot makes sure to wrinkle his nose in disgust as best he can when she says that. (That's more of something they would do, anyway.)
"Aw, so you haven't got a boyfriend after all…" She's definitely looking through his contacts now. "Well, if you're really not dating anyone, I don't see why you're overreacting so much." Mia hits a button that Elliot can't see, and the phone starts to audibly ring. Panic immediately starts to seep into his bones- who is she calling? Are they going to pick up? Please, if the admins can hear me, don't let them pick up… A beat of silence, and then a familiar voice: "Hey Elliot? You need something?"
Elliot can feel himself turning a million different shades of red, and not just because of his fever. This cannot be happening.
"Hi, is this, uh, Chance?" Mia begins- obviously shy, but trying her best to sound as friendly as possible. "I'm his little sister, not sure if he's told you about me, haha… but, uh, anyways, he's a little sick right now- came down with the flu and all- could you possibly look after him for the afternoon? Just while I'm at school? If you have the time, of course."
"Oh, Mia! Yeah, Elliot's told me a lot about you- sure, I can come over for a while, no trouble!" Chance chuckles, sounding far too happy about the whole situation. Elliot, meanwhile, has been frozen mortified in his bed over the fact that his stupid crush is coming over to act as mother hen for him while he's crippled from the flu. And they'll be seeing him in this state.
"Great, thank you, bye!" Mia hangs up the call with visible relief written on her face; Elliot knows she's a little awkward around his friends, and he silently applauds her bravery for doing this for him. But then she turns back to Elliot, and she's all business again. "See? Not that bad. Your friend Chance is coming over, 'kay?"
"Miaaa…" Elliot is about ready to tear his own hair out. This is going to be a very emotionally draining day.
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Chance arrives at their apartment fashionably late- thankfully, Mia had listened when he told her they should schedule him to come a half hour early. Elliot had already booked Mia's ride, which was set to pick her up in a few minutes, and it wasn't like there was much else he could do in his current bedridden state. That fact alone felt slightly infuriating, because usually at this hour he'd be busy meal prepping or studying or getting ready for work. He's usually so busy.
Instead, Elliot was lounging around in his bed. His hands were already itching to do something, anything, with themselves besides fiddling with the plush covers.
Though he isn't able to watch the scene personally, Elliot can hear activity coming from the front of the apartment, drifting in through the bedroom door Mia had left ajar. "Hey, what's up? Where's Elliot?" Chance's voice, followed by the squeak of the hinges as Mia shuts the door. "This place is way bigger than I remembered it, damn."
Mia giggles- Elliot feels a flash of pride in her for being able to speak comfortably with his friend- then follows up with, "Over there, in the bedroom." Footsteps, then his door swings open to reveal his sister and another, fedora-clad individual whose simple presence makes his heart freestyle its rhythm in his chest. The idea of Chance coming over is much different from being faced with it as a reality, he's realized.
"Elliot? Man, you look like shit." Elliot only has the mental energy to blink dumbly at Chance as they awkwardly approach the bed, raise a hand and have a mental debate with themselves, then place it lightly on his forehead. His temperature definitely raises a few degrees, but at least he has the fever to blame instead. "Okay, yeah, definitely sick. I'm surprised Mia got you to agree to staying home though."
"It was hard, trust me." Mia watches the two of them for a moment longer, smiling but her expression unreadable, before turning and making to leave. "Anyways! I've gotta catch my ride. Bye Ells!"
"Bye Mia, love you-" Elliot rasps out as she retreats, only to dissolve into another coughing fit. Chance finally pulls their hand off his forehead to instead hang limply at his side, looking as if he wanted to help but wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing with himself. "Sorry. This cough is, uh, really annoying."
"Yeah, I can imagine." Chance lingers by his bedside for a moment longer, probably still trying to figure out how to make themselves useful, while Elliot finishes up his coughing. Sometime during that episode, he makes the mistake of eye contact with Chance, which certainly does not end up helping his disheveled appearance any.
"Do you, um, need anything?" Chance eventually resigns themselves to asking. Elliot is about to ask for time alone to rest (read: attempt to glue together whatever pieces are left of his composure) when he suddenly gets a better idea. If he can just get away from Chance's watchful gaze for a little while, he could maybe sneak away and text the pizza place to make sure they were doing alright without him…
"No, it's okay. I'm a little hungry, but I can get myself some food, it's alright-" More inconveniently timed coughing, and this time Elliot feels a warm hand on his chest, gently pushing him back onto the bed. Or maybe that was his fever making him delusional and making his breath stutter in his lungs. "Chance, I swear I'm alright. I can get it on my own!-"
"Elliot, I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you, remember?" Chance had already speedwalked away and was halfway out the bedroom door, but Elliot could hear him laughing softly as he left. "Consider it repayment for all the times you supported my questionable financial decisions. I'll make you some food or something. Soup, maybe? Yeah, that would probably help…" He continues rambling to himself even as he walks away, voice fading out with distance.
"The soup cans are in the pantry." Elliot wonders if Chance even hears him over the sound of his own voice. So he makes sure he's louder the next time around: "And don't burn my kitchen down."
"I'm not that bad at cooking! Just relax." Elliot can see his fate coming from miles away; maybe it'd be best if he just accepts the inevitable.
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Of the two of them, Elliot is definitely the one who should be cooking right now. As Chance stares at the instructions on the can that took him ten minutes to find, utterly lost, he can't help but wonder why he had to agree to this in the first place. All he'd done so far was make a fool of himself. Surely Elliot had friends who could do a better job at this…
Well, Mia had chosen to call him, out of all those people. This was his opportunity to prove himself to Elliot, to show that he wasn't an entirely useless friend. No matter how much of his money, and in turn Elliot's, went down the drain that was the nearest casino. He'd get on top of his debts eventually, he promises himself for the thousandth time.
Chance squints at the tiny words on the label. The first thing he sees is "Lift tab and pull to remove lid." That should be easy enough.
Chance hooks his nails under the little metal tab on top of the can and pulls with all his might. He succeeds in nearly pulling his own nails off. "Ow- okay, what curse is sealing this damn soup can?" Trying a second time only earns him a new ache in his finger joints. "On second thought, I might need a can opener. He should have one… somewhere."
The last thing Chance wants to do right now is disturb Elliot's rest by asking him for help, so they resolve to look through the cabinets themselves to try and find one. What follows is the clattering of a quadrillion kitchen instruments as they pull open every single drawer in their quest to locate the fabled can opener.
"Chance? You're making a lot of noise. Are you doing okay? Do you need my help?" Typical Elliot, offering to help Chance when he knew perfectly well that they were doing this to help him. He was always kind and selfless like that…
"No, no, it's okay! Sorry. I can handle this fine by myself." Chance tugs open one of the last drawers and finally catches sight of a rather complex-looking but still recognizable can opener. "Aha, found it! Elliot, you just rest, alright?" There's a doubtful but acquiescing hum from the bedroom; enough to assure them he's staying in bed for now.
Chance fumbles with the can opener for a moment to get it positioned on the edge of the soup can, making sure his grip is secure before attempting to twist open the lid. Surprisingly enough, it works, and he makes sure to throw the can opener in the sink and dispose of the metal lid before he can accidentally cut himself- he can practically hear Elliot scolding him if he were to ever start bleeding on the ornate kitchen tile.
Next step- wait, fuck. The can said you were supposed to shake the contents before opening. Oh well, surely that wasn't essential. He can just stir the stuff together later, right?
Chance makes the executive decision to move on. Before him are two sets of directions, one regarding the stove and one regarding the microwave. If he was going to not burn down this nice apartment, he knew which one he was going to be following today. Thankfully, the microwave-safe bowls are far easier to locate than the can opener was.
Chance dumps the cold glob of concentrated soup into the center of the bowl, watching it slowly spread out like industrial ooze. He can feel his appetite, usually healthy enough, waning by the minute. Do people really eat this stuff? He almost wishes he could cook better now if it would mean serving Elliot something besides whatever this slop was.
They also know that Elliot would definitely insist otherwise, partly because he'd feel bad for making Chance feel that way and partly because Chance knows he doesn't trust them around any kind of kitchen. For good reason, they might add.
The can says he should microwave this stuff on high for 2.5 to 3 minutes. Chance is not great at decimals, never has been, so he settles on the easier-looking number. In goes the bowl, and with one tap of his finger on the futuristic-looking panel of buttons, the soup mix has started to spin. This is all going swimmingly.
"Wait, shit, I forgot the milk!" Chance pulls open the microwave door with unnecessary force and removes the bowl of half-melted soup sludge, then yanks open the fridge door and withdraws a carton of milk. The instructions say to pour in one can, but he honestly doesn't know what that means, so he just eyeballs a decent amount and shoves the mixture back into the microwave.
Okay, now things are going swimmingly.
"Chance? Are you doing okay?" That's Elliot checking in on them again. Chance honestly feels bad for making him worry so much- maybe they should cut down on the talking to themselves. Or rather, yelling to themselves, because that feels like it's something that should be concerning and a red flag indicator of someone's mental state.
"Ells, I'm fine, I promise." Chance tries his absolute best to make himself sound reassuring, only to realize he's slipped into using Mia's nickname for Elliot. He's definitely going crazy, but Ells just felt like it flowed easier off his tongue… "Shit, uh, ignore what I just said. The soup's almost ready, I just gotta finish microwaving it-"
"Chance, you know I don’t mind if you call me that, right?"
"You- don't?" Chance gets to hear a glorious few seconds of Elliot's laughter before the moment is ruined by another round of coughing and the demanding beep of the microwave. He makes sure to take the hot bowl out as soon as possible before he can somehow manage to get distracted and turn the soup into charcoal. "Oh, the soup's done. One second!"
He pulls a fork out of Elliot's utensils drawer first before realizing his mistake and grabbing a spoon instead. Hey, at least the soup looks edible- that's enough to tell him Lady Luck is on his side today.
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When Chance enters the room again, carrying a bowl of soup that actually kind of looks like soup, Elliot can feel relief wash over him like a tidal wave. "I'm proud of you for not burning my kitchen down."
Chance fumbles their words for a moment before finally collecting themselves, setting the bowl gently down on Elliot's lap, and settling on the edge of the bed while keeping their face safely averted. "You're welcome. You see, I can be trusted to cook! Sometimes."
"Ha ha, yeah. Sometimes." Elliot grabs the spoon, the handle warmed slightly by the hot soup, and stirs around the mixture. It's a little chunky and definitely has too much milk in it, but for Chance it's more than passable. He tentatively raises a spoonful to his lips, blows on it to cool it off, and takes a sip. "It's really good, actually."
It's far from being the best soup in the world. But to Elliot, it tastes like comfort. And whether or not Chance is aware of this, they still smile, practically glowing in the spotlight of his praise. "It is? Thanks!"
"Yeah, yeah. Don't let it go to your head." Elliot replies playfully, drinking another spoonful and letting the warmth of the soup soothe his throat. "Admins know your ego's big enough already-" Unfortunately, the soup is far from being the perfect cure to his illness, and soon enough Elliot is back to coughing. To think he'd just had a moment of respite.
"Ells? Are you supposed to be taking any medicine for that…?" Chance is back to looking concerned, watching him pitifully wheeze into the sleeve of his work uniform that he hadn't bothered to take off the night before. The fabric probably reeks of sweat by now, with how hot he's been since he woke up. This whole situation is incredibly embarrassing.
"I mean, we probably have some cough syrup in the medicine cabinet somewhere. I kind of forgot to check if it was expired, but it should still be okay." Elliot manages to stifle his coughing enough to wave a hand at the door, in the general direction of the kitchen's many cabinets. "Check on the bottom shelf of the first cabinet over there."
"Gotcha. Be right back, don't die!"
"Ironic that you're telling me that, Chance."
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Chance tries to reassure himself that he hasn't already forgotten all of Elliot's directions. In his defense, there are a lot of things which go through one ear and immediately fall out the other. The one and only thing he remembers without fail is to go get his daily scratch-off from the convenience store. And lose, because Lady Luck just has to be that way.
Besides, it isn't that big of a problem. If he opens enough cabinets, he'll find the cough syrup eventually. So Chance resorts to his tried-and-true strategy of trial and error for the second time today.
The first cabinet he opens contains a bunch of decorative plates, probably saved for fancy occasions and the like. He definitely shouldn't be touching anything in there. The next is mostly empty, save for a couple shopping bags which look like they belong to Elliot's sister. Which leaves the last cabinet, where he finally finds all the medicine.
A lot of medicine, actually. There are at least twenty boxes crammed into the small space, and Chance is forced to push up a chair from the dining table to dig through all of it. A good half of it is complex prescription names which he can't read at all, much less understand, leaving only a few boxes of medication with coherent labels. Out of these, the cough syrup is easy enough to find, as it's got the brightest box- it looks to be tailored more to kids around Mia's age, but there's no adult brand in there, so it'll probably do.
Chance pushes the chair back to its place by the dining table, creating an awful scraping noise in the process as the legs drag against the floor, before haphazardly stuffing all the medication into the cabinet and turning to leave. But just as he's about to head back to Elliot's room, he spies something on the counter beneath the cabinets.
It's a collection of framed photos of Elliot with other people. A majority of them are with Mia; if Chance had to guess, these are the few times they really got to hang out with each other in between all of Elliot's work. Exactly one photo is of Elliot and one guy he doesn't recognize, wearing a burger hat on his head. He looks to have stolen Elliot's phone to take this picture, because he's standing somewhere above the pizzeria's workplace while an irritated Elliot can be seen reaching for his phone from below.
In between these photos are a couple photos of Elliot and Chance. All the times they'd dragged him away from the pizza place or out of class to hang out- that time they'd gone to the state fair and tried their space-themed rollercoaster (Elliot threw up after), a frame from the time they'd filmed him petting some stranger's dog… looking back, they really needed to hang out more. Elliot was always so busy.
"Chance? Did you find the medicine okay?" There's the creaking of a bedframe as Elliot tries to lift himself from the bed. He was definitely staring at those photos for way too long.
"You worry so much, Ells. I should be the one worrying about you, you know?" Chance tears his gaze away from the face on the frames, moving to pour a glass of water. "Like, aren't you the one who's supposed to be sick here? Just… stay there for me, 'kay?"
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Chance returns to his room carrying a dosage cup of berry-colored liquid and a larger clear glass of water. "I think I'm starting to get the hang of this whole 'take care of Elliot' thing. Hell, at this rate I could be working in a hospital!"
"God forbid they let you anywhere near a hospital." Elliot snorts good-naturedly, already reaching out for the cup of medicine. What he fails to register in time is that the cup is incredibly small, enough to force their fingers to touch when he grabs for it. In that brief second of contact, he feels red-hot electricity shoot up his spine and straight to his brain, which unhelpfully starts overloading with thoughts he definitely shouldn't be having about a good friend.
Take, for instance: His hands are soft. What would it be like if I could actually hold them?
"Chance, could you turn up the AC? I think I'm gonna start boiling in here, hah…" To get his mind off that little incident and hopefully avoid any questions, Elliot feigns wiping sweat off his forehead- it's definitely gotten hotter since the last time he checked- and decides to down the cup of medicine without waiting for Chance to give him the water first.
"Yeah, let me just- have you got a thermostat?" Elliot would have liked to answer that question, except he was busy regretting his decision. The liquid was incredibly bitter and stuck unpleasantly to his tongue long after he'd swallowed; though it was meant to be a cough suppressant, it had only inspired him to cough more due to the unpleasantly artificial flavoring. "Oh, right, water. Here."
Elliot gratefully takes the glass of water from Chance's hands- making sure to avoid accidentally touching him this time, because he did not need to have his brain melted again- and chugs a good amount of it before he feels better enough to reply. "Yeah, it's in the hall. Turn it down like three degrees."
Chance obediently disappears and returns a few seconds later to pick up the cups and empty soup bowl Elliot had left on the nightstand- he seemed to have an easier time with that task, at least. When he comes back empty-handed, his next words are: "Done. Need anything else, prince?"
Elliot starts sputtering in a very undignified manner. He's been well acquainted with the fact that Chance is a tease, but of all the times they decide they want to be bothersome… "Okay, do not call me that. I'll have you know I wouldn't have called you over to serve me or whatever if I had my way. I'd literally rather be at work-"
"Fine, fine. But I'd argue you'd rather be here, hanging out with me." Chance flashes him a grin, bright and irresistible, and some stupid soft part of Elliot unfortunately agrees. He only rarely gets quality time with Chance like this; it feels like there's always something that he has to do, and more often than not it's Chance who has to forcefully drag him away from whatever affairs he's got scheduled. Inwardly, he wonders why they go to all that trouble for him…
"Whatever. My point is that I don't like laying around and being useless all day. Unlike some people." Elliot lets a rare smirk bubble to the surface, to be matched by Chance petulantly sticking out his tongue at him. "Speaking of. If you're so determined to keep me cooped up here all day, can you at least let me do my homework?"
"Homework? Really? Who does that shit?" Chance sounds incredulous, but they know how much Elliot cares about his studies, and so they fetch his backpack from the corner of the bedroom without any further complaint. "You sure you don't just wanna take a nap or something? Like, no offense, but you look like you've been running off energy drinks for the past 3 months. It feels like I never see you without at least a can of Bloxy Cola."
Elliot subconsciously rubs his eyes, where he knows there are probably dark circles that have grown underneath. It isn't like Chance is wrong... "Nah. Sleep's a waste of time, honestly- now, can I have my work?"
"If you insist." Chance, not convinced but resigned to the fact that Elliot wasn't changing his mind, passes him the supplies inside and watches as Elliot immediately sets up shop, piling the folders he isn't using on one side of him while stacking his homework papers on his lap. "I really don't know how you keep up with all that. Gives me a headache just looking at it."
"It's this thing called time management, Chance. You'd do well to learn a thing or two about it." Elliot knows that Chance is hopeless with his homework- he'd rather be gaming or napping or doing literally anything else besides sitting down and focusing himself on a piece of paper for more than seven seconds.
Not to mention, Chance is just a bit dumb- not like he'd ever tell them that, of course. Elliot certainly wasn't going to tell them he thought that was endearing. "Now, do you want answers or not?"
"You know me so well." Chance's smile in that moment is worth all the mental torture that Elliot is about to go through in the name of trying to teach this thick-skulled idiot.
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When Mia finally rings the doorbell later that afternoon, the both of them have sprawled out over Elliot's bed, with Chance staring blankly at Elliot's paper while he ranted about the logistics behind the answers (they still don't get it, but at least he tried). "Oh, Chance, Mia's home. Mind getting the door?"
"Yeah, hold up." Chance reluctantly lifts himself off the bed- the spot where he'd been laying for the past few hours had gotten comfortably warm- and makes his way to the front door of the apartment. Swinging it open reveals Mia, looking up at him expectantly.
"How's Elliot?" Is the first thing she asks, already kicking off her shoes and on her way to check on her brother. Chance is left with the duty of shutting the door behind her and trailing at her heels, feeling like the awkward second place in Elliot's life again.
"He's fine. I didn't let him go off to work, but he said he wanted to do his homework at least, soo…" Chance trails off as they approach Elliot's doorway, where the guy in question is tidying up the pens they'd thrown around at some point during their impromptu study session. He wouldn't say they'd gotten a little carried away in their playfighting, but… they'd definitely gotten a little carried away.
"Of course he did. Hi, Ells, did you enjoy time with your boy-"
"Mia, you just got here! Shut up!" Elliot turns about as red as the soup from earlier, but Mia's giggling is admittedly infectious, and soon all three of them have started laughing hysterically.
In that moment, Chance thinks about what Mia had said- or rather, what she hadn't finished saying. Could she really be considering that? No, she had to be fooling around or something. That was the only plausible explanation here.
"I'll take that reaction as an 'I'm feeling better' from you. And Chance, you're free to go home now. Unless, of course, you wanna hang out more. Maybe catch some of that flu for yourself." Mia raises one eyebrow at him as she says that, and when Chance starts laughing again, it's partially because of her implications and partially because of the absolutely dumbfounded expression that appears on Elliot's face soon afterwards.
"Nah, I'm good- I think I've bothered Ells enough for one day. And I'd definitely be more of a bother if I got sick and he had to take care of me." Chance starts to step away at this point, not wanting to linger too long so that Mia could spend time with her brother. She was already shooting him odd looks, anyway. "Bye! And text me the rest of the answers I missed!"
"Bye, Chance. I will." Elliot's voice follows him through the door, still a little raspy but bearing a certain sort of warmth.
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As Chance is pulling on his shoes at the door, Mia reappears behind him, presumably to see him out. He definitely is not startled when he gets up again and finds that she's standing behind him. "Uh, Chance? Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah, what is it?"
"Do you like my brother?" It's quiet enough that Elliot couldn't hear her from the bedroom, but just hearing those words aloud is enough to put Chance into panic mode- is she going to judge me if I say yes? Is she going to tell him? Do I like Elliot?
"…maybe a little." He admits finally, in a whisper so quiet that Mia's forced to lean in somewhat to catch it. "Like, listen, before you start threatening me with death if I hurt him, I really do think he's smart and funny and kind and I'd never-"
"Wait." Mia interrupts him mid-rant, tilting her head to the side to study his expression a little bit. Chance knows he probably looks nervous- definitely looks nervous, not to mention blushing furiously too- but there's not much he can do on that front right now. "Honestly? I like you, and I trust you. I don't think you'd do that to him."
"Phew." Chance exhales in blatant relief, hoping this means he's being let off the hook and he can leave now. "Well, I'm glad that I at least make a good first impression-"
"But." Mia stops him again, giving him a serious expression that somehow bears the inexplicable power to completely shut him up. "I just want you to know that it isn't going to be easy to win him over. He… he can be stubborn, dense, emotional, the whole lot. But if you're willing to put in the work for him, he will be too."
Of all the people Chance had been expecting to give him relationship advice, his crush's teenage sister was definitely not at the top of that list. It's enough to stun him into another beat of his rare silence before he replies. "Yeah, I know. Definitely took work to get to this point, I'll say that. And I'm not about to give up anytime soon."
When Chance steps out the door and takes a final glance back, Mia is smiling.