Work Text:
"Seible, I'm fine. Don't worry too much about me."
Freo says at the sight of the man sitting by his bed, carefully drenching the towel with cold water before putting it on his forehead. Freo doesn't miss the way Seible's eyes pain with worry as his hand gently rubs his cheek to check the temperature.
Freo isn't the type to get sick that easily, being the least likely person to feel under the weather among By The Beat. And yet, whenever he goes through it for once, it has never been so easy for him.
Not at all.
In fact, it burdens him with endless discomfort, leaving him no choice but to stay in bed for more rest instead of drowning himself in chunks of work. Not that he cannot walk—mind you, he can walk and do everything just fine. It's just that it requires more strength for him to do so, and he might need a lot of rest afterwards.
Freo tries to get off the bed as he looks at the papers neatly placed on his work desk, sighing at the vision of his future self having to do double the work. But then he quickly got pushed down into bed softly by the brunet, his sunset eyes looked in disagreement, but saying nothing less as he already knew the reason behind it all.
"No can do, Furi-chan. My mission for today is to take care of you, meaning that no work for you." Seible pulls the blanket up just so it can wrap around the turquoise-haired man more, embracing him in such comfort. He grabs the towel as he gently places onto the other's forehead once again, smiling sweetly just to cheer Freo up in understanding.
And that leaves Freo no room to disagree, already knowing he's such a sucker for Seible's little puppy eyes.
"You already know I can't win if you pull those eyes, Sei." He sighs as he rolls his eyes, though his hands say otherwise, pulling the blanket much higher just so he can hide his face away. Seible can only cackle at Freo's claim, already having way too much fun with his own power – cuteness, with his boyfriend.
"But you already work so much for us, Furi-chan. It's best for you to at least take a little bit of rest from now." Seible says, and Freo understands it.
He really does, especially when it's the most brutal punishment for him after all. After all, it's all his fault for working three days straight with eleven cups of coffee and barely any food consumed. He knows he's been overworking himself way too much, and he's now paying the price for his own recklessness —for trapping himself in his office for days without leaving.
Therefore, he can never blame the other for being here at this moment.
Not when he did, in fact, collapse onto the office floor while drenching in cold sweat. Not when he was scaring them to death with his own condition, if not Seible coming by just to check up on his lover's situation. Not when his office was a mess with paperwork scattered everywhere all over the floor and everything looked like it had gone through a hurricane or something similar so.
His sunset eyes tiredly scan over the room. Somehow, he's now in his bedroom with the lights dimly lit up the space. Everything looks…organized, like someone helped him clean up all the mess dragged from the office to his bedroom. But who can blame him? The drastic change in designs and requirements for such a short time doesn't give him space to take a proper rest. And so, he kept pushing himself, working further and beyond, only finally closing his eyes when he finished it.
He's just that stubborn when it comes to work, wanting it to go just as planned and precise calculations, leaving him room to improvise and making it much easier to manage. So of course, as someone who would like to get his work done without any postponement, he would never let his work hang for too long, even if that means he has to overwork himself.
And well, here he is, lying in bed while everyone is now busy with their work.
Great.
Now he's making them worried for him.
Now he's the one burdening them for being so restless, so careful with everything he does.
Now he's the one who gives them more work to do, while everyone is so busy right now.
.
.
.
.
"Whatever you're thinking right now is just not true, Furi-chan."
Seible says, snapping the other out of his thought as his hands gently guide Freo's face up, just to look at him face-to-face. His ocean eyes meet Freo's sunset eyes as they glint with happiness, shaped like crescent moons that Freo has always adored. They always carry such softness within whenever the brunet looks at him, always with adoration and nothing more.
And yet, that adoration never comes with downplaying his worth.
Never.
Seible always understands him in a way that words can never explain properly, the kind that he would always be Freo's number one supporter, nevertheless. The kind that Seible would always be here for Freo despite everything, despite his recklessness, and despite what's considered to be bad habits.
"Besides, I'm still working so no worries about work, Furi-chan. I'm not letting you suffer through this sickness alone." Seible winks at Freo, then signals towards the running laptop placed on his now-empty working desk inside his bedroom. Freo rolls his eyes at the brunet's antics, though he's certainly pleased to know that Seible is willing to be here while not bothering Freo about the unfinished workload.
And so, he lets Seible do whatever he wants – staying by his side in bed, with one lying in bed to rest from sickness and the other working, still checking on the other's condition when necessary.
Seible would be working on the other side of the bed, though sometimes his hand would softly brush through Freo's locks of hair, just to shower him with small comfort. Freo would often tell him that he doesn't need to worry too much, but then the brunet just pouts and says, "Lemme spoil you just for today, Furi-chan. You deserve it."
And of course, who even is Freo if he dares to turn down the other's genuine?
He just lets Seible take care of him and be by his side without protesting or asking for anything, already thankful enough for the other to be here and accompanying him right now. At one point, Freo can feel the sleepiness kicking in due to the effects of the medicine as his eyes try to fight against the urge, and Seible laughs at that sight. The brunet gently ruffles the other's hair being tangled mess in bed, eyes glinting with such fondness for the dear partner, humming some kinds of melody as a way to comfort Freo through his tiredness.
He finds Freo adorable in such a state, but of course, Seible would never say it out loud in front of his boyfriend. Instead, he hides such adoration inside just his own selfishness, not wanting to scare the other away from his own love.
"Just sleep if you want to, Furi-chan. I'm always here." Seible softly says as his hand shuts down the laptop, shifting his entire focus onto the sick man instead. His eyes remain as genuine as ever as he looks at the man lying helplessly in bed, still humming a sweet lullaby made just for the other. And it's working really well, because Freo finds himself slowly drifting away into fatigue, letting himself drown in such comfort made just for him and him only.
His eyes slowly shut down, pulling his very last awareness with him into the sleep of so-called weariness.
And yet.
His hand hovers over the brunet's sleeve almost instinctively, surprising the brunet with the sudden action. Though he quickly smiles at the sight of the other man clinging to him in his sleep, wanting to save that endearing image in his head forever.
"Rest well, Furi-chan."
.
.
.
.
.
"uhm…" Freo slowly stirs awake from his sleep — the one that he didn't know how long he had been knocked out, losing track of time. He looks at the clock hanging on the wall as the ticking continues, feeling slightly better than before.
6 P.M.
Just how long has he been asleep?
Freo doesn't know, probably half a day or so—but well, at least his state does feel a lot better than before. He can now at least get out of his bed and do something, taking care of himself and keeping himself safe from fainting elsewhere.
Freo sighs as he slowly gets up from his bed, looking at the blanket placed on his forehead, falling down onto the blanket, which is still wet despite how long he must have been asleep. That means that Seible has changed the towel occasionally, staying by his side most of the time, when he was dead to the world and drenched in cold sweat.
Talking about Seible.
"Where's Swablu…?" Freo looks at the empty side next to him in his bed, the side that looks like no one has been there for even just a slight bit. Seible's laptop is now placed and unopened on Freo's working desk, with all the paperwork placed and organized almost like he hasn't worked on it at all. But Freo knows that is a false statement – Seible has probably finished those ages ago, thus that would explain the tidiness.
Freo slowly climbs off the bed, feeling a bit dizzy, but that isn't that serious for him. And so, he puts on the slippers as he exits his bedroom, going in search of his brunet instead. He really needs to thank Seible for taking care of him, for being by his side, and for respecting his space nevertheless.
As soon as the designer steps out of his bedroom, the smell of food quickly wraps around him like a soothing blanket – a very rich scent like the best medicine for Freo's sickness. The delicious, comforting scent leads him as Freo takes small steps towards the staircases, slowly but steadily, in order not to trip himself somewhere in the seemingly never-ending fatigue.
And there he is.
Seible.
The one who is now standing in the kitchen, cooking comforting congee for the sick Freodore.
Freo looks at the endearing sight in front of him as he smiles, leaning against the staircase as the other man cooks just to make good food for his sick lover. He looks at the dear Seible, who is running around in the kitchen like a worried kitten, acting so adorably like a Pokémon doing its best for its most treasured owner.
"Aha! I got this! I do got this!!" Freo finds the one and only promoter of the livehouse talking to himself, almost cheering himself up to make a comforting meal for him, endearing, the kind that he can never find anywhere else except with the boy himself. It makes him feel happy and more than appreciated for his partner to take care of him this much, always taking care of him and yet never putting down his own efforts.
So how can he not love Seible, the one who chooses to stay by him and love him more than anything else?
He can only fondly sigh as he watches Seible humming some kind of melody that he's been hearing so many times whenever he's been serious with what he's been doing, clearly pouring all his heart and will into cooking the most perfect soup of all. He looks at how Seible keeps himself looking so messy with one sleeve and the other rolled down, with his bangs tied into silly chops and the unwashed mess by the kitchen sink. Freo stands there and observes, keeping enough distance just to give Seible his own world to work on his love poured into food, letting him shine brightly as he should have been.
If that's how the Moon cares about its star, why would the star ruin such love when it knows such devotion has always been there for it ever since the beginning? Freo would never ruin the love that Seible pours into him and into their relationship.
In fact, he cherishes it more than anything.
More than words can ever explain, and action can ever express.
More than moments like these, when one feels so down, and one would lift the other, all with care and endearment.
He waits and waits until Seible finally finishes his own creation, looking as proud as ever. Until Seible finally notices the designer standing there by the staircase, his face is now a blushing mess, clearly embarrassed by the talk he's been having with himself and all the mess he's creating right now.
Though Freo doesn't mind any of them.
Not at all.
Instead, he takes small steps as he walks towards the dining table and sits down, eyes still looking at the brunet in amusement as he patiently waits. And Seible grasps onto it right away. He quickly scoops out the hot congee from the pot and into the bowl, topping it off with some fresh herbs as he pushes the soup towards Freo with an expectant expression.
Freo is about to take the spoon, but Seible quickly stops him right away.
"Lemme do it for you, Furi-chan."
Freo can only sigh at the sight of Seible taking the spoon, scooping out a portion as he gently blows to ease down the heat. And yet, he still lets Seible do the spoon-feeding, already knowing he can never win against Seible's adorableness. He lets Seible feed him with a soft, caring smile appeared on the brunet's face, watching his ocean eyes as shining as the beach when the night comes.
He opens his mouth as he feels such warm, soothing soup ease him down from the sickness inside, feeling his heart warm from the comfort food.
It's very delicious.
Freo smiles as he looks at the bowl of congee in front of him, warm with care and the love that Seible pours in just to hope for Freo's recovery.
"Do you like it, Furi-chan? How was it?" Seible's eyes meet his, clearly waiting for Freo's comment. Freo just nods his head in agreement, and that's more than enough for Seible to know. He lets out such a breath he's been holding since God knows when, clearly proud of his own creation and the love he's been pouring in just to make it.
The food made entirely by love and care, by such tenderness that only exists within.
And of course, how can Freo hate it, especially when it comes from Seible's own dedication and devotion, who would choose to stay by his side even when he's in the best state and even when he's at his worst?
How can he hate someone who can love him and treat him right with love, always with care and never stepping over his boundaries?
Thank you, Swablu.
Freo wants to say so, but he knows he doesn't need to say it out loud just for the brunet to understand it. Seible always understands it, he always does. And of course, this time is not an exception. Seible just smiles as he looks at the designer, his one hand gently caressing Freo's, now soon intertwined in pleasing comfort and never-ending love.
The sweetness lingering in that bowl of congee.
The sweetness of love, care, and devotion.
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