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Tommy sniffles miserably. "I'm not—"
"You're sick," Buck and Eddie say at the same time. They stand in front of him, arms crossed in a united front, and Tommy sinks further down into the couch. He puts his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie and digs his toes into the carpet.
"I'm fine," he says, "I'm not sick." His voice is hoarse, the normally smooth, clear tone shredded into a rasp. He coughs and tries to smother it as best he can into his shoulder.
"If you're going to lie to us at least cover your mouth," Buck says, mouth turning down into a frown.
"Evan," he whines, sinking further, and though he wouldn't say he's doing it on purpose, he can feel his face soften and his mouth curl into a pout.
Buck blinks, looking conflicted.
"Ahh, no." Eddie smacks him gently on the chest with the back of his hand. "Don't fall for it, Buck. He's using his wiles. We both know that he--" He gestures down at Tommy. "Is sick. Look at him. Pathetic!"
"Rude," Tommy mumbles. Eddie ignores him.
"Be strong, Buck. He's sick. He needs rest and relaxation."
"We were supposed to go out today," Tommy says. "I promised the two of you a hike."
Buck sits down on the couch beside him. "Yeah, and? We can go on a hike any day." He nudges Tommy, gently, and gives him a soft smile when he finally looks miserably over. "You're more important than some date, okay?"
"He's right," Eddie says, leaning down to put a hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Chris is a teenager now, remember, so I've got experience dealing with your bullshit excuses." Tommy opens his mouth to try to argue but Eddie gives him a look under a raised brow and he snaps his mouth shut, rolling his eyes. Eddie squeezes his shoulder, his expression going tender, and he settles in beside him on the couch. "Buck," he says, "you brought the stuff in?"
Buck holds up two grocery bags. "Medicine, cough drops, gatorade," he says, putting one on the coffee table. "And homemade soup. Well, mostly homemade. I used storebought noodles."
"Looks great," Tommy croaks.
"And!" Buck digs in the grocery bag until he pulls out a small, neon-colored plush animal, with big, sparkly plastic eyes and a unicorn horn coming off its forehead. "I even got you a friend for when me and Eddie have to leave."
"What the hell is this?" Tommy asked, plucking it out of Buck's hand.
"A doggie-corn," he says happily.
"I tried to talk him out of it," Eddie murmurs, leaning in close and pressing himself against Tommy's side. "But he was stubborn. Think maybe he got too into taking care of Jee when she's been sick."
Tommy snorts a laugh in agreement. "Thanks Evan," he says, putting the stuffy into his lap.
"Need anything else?" Eddie asks. He settles into the couch, one arm going around Tommy's shoulders. "You should eat, but if you want to wait, you can."
"Yeah," Buck agrees. "We're your nurses, not jailors." His arm goes around Tommy's shoulders, too, and he feels enveloped between them, held warm and safe by the strength of their bodies.
"Nurses?" he asks. "Then where are the sexy costumes?"
"Saved those for when you get better," Buck says, nuzzling into him. Tommy leans in for a kiss, but Buck turns away.
"Uh uh," Eddie says, and Tommy turns to look at him. "Not until you're better." He puts two fingers to Tommy's lips. "Germs."
Buck laughs into Tommy's neck. "Mmm-hmm. Germs."
They settle in and turn on a movie. Tommy takes some of the medicine they brought him, and gulps down as much of a gatorade as he can stand. The soup he does decide to save for later.
And he's disappointed about the kisses, sure. But here, sandwiched between these two kind, beautiful men taking time out of their day just to care for him? Buck is staring at the screen with a frown, asking questions about something he missed. Eddie reaches behind Tommy to tug at Buck's ear, telling him to stop talking and pay attention. And they both cuddle in as close as they can, solid and sturdy on either side of him.
Being sick sucks, he thinks. But an afternoon like this? Maybe that's not too bad after all.