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Saparata instantly knows something is off when he wakes up to make coffee and Fluixon is still asleep in his arms instead of awake and making his own coffee. Of course, he could just be tired—after all, he did stay up until nearly three in the morning for the past four days just to focus on his studies—but with the way he’s curled up with his knees up to his chest, his face scrunched up slightly in what seems to be pain, and the unusual warmth radiating off of his skin, it’s obvious what the problem is.
Saparata slowly and carefully slips his arms out from under Fluixon, making sure not to rouse the other awake before he changes out of his pajamas. The instant his skin isn’t pressed against Fluixon’s, he buries himself deeper in the blankets, pulling the thick cover over his already overheating body in an attempt to shield himself from the non-existent cold air that’s bothering him. The sight would’ve been cute to Saparata if the circumstances were different and if Fluixon was doing this to cover himself out of embarrassment rather than to keep himself warm despite the decent temperature. Nonetheless, Saparata doesn’t let the view distract him from doing what he originally intended to do.
He checks the other’s temperature just to make sure he isn’t assuming anything, pressing the back of his cold hand against flushed skin and nearly wincing at how hot the other is (in the literal sense). Once he pulls back, he tugs the blankets off of Fluixon just enough to not make him feel too cold but also enough to let air circulate, then makes his way to their medicine cabinet in the bathroom. There’s a whole lot of things that they haven’t used in a while, like sunscreen (neither have gone out much lately), various medicines (most of them were from one-time illnesses), and lotions that were nearly empty but not empty enough to be thrown out, which makes it a little hard for Saparata to find what he needs, but after a while, he manages to get a tablet of paracetamol, a few cooling patches, and lemon honey-flavoured cough drops and goes back to the room. He places all of the items on the nightstand beside Fluixon, throws one more glance at him to see if he’s still sleeping, then leaves the room.
Saparata spends most of his morning in the kitchen, making the only kind of soup and noodles he knows Fluixon likes and preparing tea for him, remembering exactly how Fluixon likes it. He’s very specific with his preferences—one cube of sugar, half a teaspoon of honey, chamomile only—but Saparata has the small picky preferences memorised from the countless times he’s made the tea. He makes sure not to add too much salt in the soup, knowing Fluixon wouldn’t even try to stomach it if it was the slightest bit too salty for him, and also takes caution to add rice noodles instead of regular ones since they’re easier to chew and are also less harder to digest when sick. He doesn’t take too long to make the soup, the majority of the time taken to let the soup simmer at the perfect heat. He scrolls on his phone while he waits, looking at posts from his friends and seeing what they’re doing throughout their brief vacation time. He lets himself relax while he does so.
When Fluixon wakes up, he registers three things. Firstly, his head hurts like hell and he has the urge to bash it into a wall. Secondly, his nose is so stuffy that he can barely breathe properly without making a loud noise and his throat feels so scratchy and dry no matter how much he tries to wet it. Thirdly, Saparata is not in bed with him. At first, he assumes that the other had a hangout he had to go to or that maybe he’s out buying groceries, but the sound of something boiling faintly makes it evident that Saparata is still home. He’s mildly annoyed that his partner hadn’t woken him up after he checks the time—half past eleven—since he’d rather die than spend half of the day asleep.
Forcing himself out of bed despite everything in his body telling him to stay put, he manages to stumble his way into the kitchen, where he sees Saparata, who’s already changed and wide awake, scrolling on his phone. He rubs at his eyes tiredly, fighting back a shiver and stifling a cough. The sound makes Saparata look up briefly before standing up and immediately moving to Fluixon, hands on his shoulders stabling his off-centred vision. He offers a smile, but it’s different than usual, more concerned yet still looking at him with those lovestruck eyes, staring at his every feature. Saparata distantly remarks that even when sick and probably sleep-deprived, his lover still manages to look so unfairly attractive.
“Good morning.” He greets softly, already ushering him back into the room and onto the bed. “Stay in bed. You’re sick.”
Fluixon mumbles something incoherent along the way, but Saparata doesn’t really bother to decipher what he said. Only when Saparata forces him to sit on the bed does Fluixon complain.
“I’m not.” He responds, leaning forward to press his face against Saparata’s body. “Just tired.”
Saparata’s fingers card gently through his hair when Fluixon keels forward, his other hand rubbing small circles into his back to distract him and soothe the pain he knows is already building up in his head. In response, Fluixon melts further into his touch, going nearly boneless in his hold.
“Yes, you are. You’re burning up, and you can’t even sit straight.” Saparata replies, tone still soft but firm enough to leave no space for argument (not that Fluixon’s fever-addled mind could even come up with one without sounding utterly stupid). “Lie back down. I’m almost done preparing the soup.”
Fluixon’s gaze flickers up at Saparata for a brief second before he goes back to burying his face in the soft cotton of Saparata’s clothes. “Is it the chicken stock from the grocery store?” He questions.
“Of course not, you hate that one. I made the vegetable soup with rice noodles that you said Cynikka used to make for you that one time.” Separate responds, carefully manoeuvring his lover to make him lie down, pulling the blankets a little further away from his face just so he won’t cocoon himself with the sheets like he did earlier this morning.
“When did you even—“
“Cynikka messaged me the recipe a few weeks ago. Told me you have the immune system of a Victorian child, especially during this season.” To that, Fluixon huffs slightly, mumbling something under his breath.
Even when told to rest, Fluixon for some reason just cannot stay put, so when Saparata leaves the room, he pulls the covers off and shuffles into the living room, sinking into the couch and watching Saparata through the kitchen window. Right as the dove-hybrid is about to head back into the room, he pauses when he sees Fluixon on the couch, head propped up against a cushion with Saparata’s phone in hand. Saparata clicks his tongue, not at the fact that he’s going through his phone (he trusts him enough for that, and he’s not hiding anything from him either), but because he won’t stay still.
“Dude. I told you to stay in bed.” Saparata groans softly as he approaches him, placing the bowl on the coffee table before quickly grabbing the medicine and cooling patches from the bedroom and putting them onto the table as well.
“I didn’t want to trouble you.” Fluixon replies, clicking the phone shut and placing beside him. “Also, don’t call me dude when we’re dating.” He adds.
“Trouble me with what? Having to walk a few extra steps to the bedroom?” His tone is sarcastic. Fluixon doesn’t answer him, instead opting to grab the bowl and start eating, blowing on the first few bites so he doesn’t burn his mouth.
Separate grabs the remote and turns on the documentary that Fluixon had been watching for the past few days, watching along because god forbid he finds something interesting. Fluixon, for the most part, is quiet, not throwing any of his remarks or complaints like he usually would, presumably because he’s tired, which is a new experience for Saparata, but he doesn’t say anything about it.
After a while, halfway through his meal, Fluixon speaks up.
“Micro and Thomas invited you to hang out with them today.” He starts, voice monotonous, although Saparata knows that he does not feel as apathetic about the situation as he pretends to be. “Why didn’t you go?”
“You were sick.” He replies casually, half-paying attention to what Fluixon is saying, half-invested in the documentary.
“I can take care of myself.”
“Clearly not, if you got sick from pulling four all-nighters in a row.” He muses.
“It wasn’t an all-nighter.” Fluixon is quick to defend.
“Still, you’re sick, and you need someone to take care of you.”
“I don’t.”
“Fine, you don’t need someone to take care of you. But you have someone that’s willing to anyway. Is that not enough?” Saparata questions, which makes Fluixon quiet. “I’m here with you instead of them because I’d rather tend to my boyfriend than hang out with my friends.”
Fluixon doesn’t say anything more in favour of finishing his food, eyes back on the screen while he empties the bowl. Once he’s done, only a little bit of soup left, he places it back down on the table and leans against Saparata’s arm, his feverish skin against his lover’s cool skin. Saparata however, much to his dismay, moves away, grabbing the medicine off of the table and handing the tablet to Fluixon, then giving him a water bottle as well.
“Take one.” He says, and Fluixon complies, swallowing the pill. “Come here.” He commands shortly after.
When Fluixon leans in, Saparata tests his temperature once more, checking to see if he's burning up as badly as he was earlier this morning. Once he concludes that his lover’s condition isn’t as bad as earlier, he lets him go and puts the cooling patch back into the medicine cabinet before coming back to the couch. When he does, Fluixon looks half asleep, leaning against the cushion while his head lolls to one side, eyes half-closed. Saparata moves to sit beside him once more, letting him rest his head against his shoulder again while he falls asleep.
Not even three minutes after, Fluixon is already passed out on him. Saparata moves them both so that they can lie down and Fluixon can sleep more comfortably, and ends up lying on his back while Fluixon sleeps on top of him, his arm around his lover’s waist and holding tightly so he doesn’t slip off. While his lover rests like he was supposed to, Saparata scrolls on his phone, going through his social media apps and seeing all of his friends posting pictures of them on holiday at various places. He comes across one of Micro’s posts—one where he and Thomas are standing under a dome at the aquarium he was supposed to go to with them—and likes it, remembering to bring Fluixon there some time.
After a while, Fluixon shifts on top of him, which makes Saparata move them once more, now lying down on his side with Fluixon next to him in his arms. However, even with the change in position, his lover still looks uncomfortable, curling up into a ball and seemingly trying to pry away from Saparata’s cold skin, worrying him. He puts his phone down and presses the back of his hand against his forehead once more, and much to his dismay, his temperature seems to be rising again.
Saparata slips away from the couch before rushing into the bathroom to get the cooling patches once again. He can’t make Fluixon take another pill, since it’s been too recent since he’s had one, and it could be dangerous to go above the daily limit, so this is the next best thing that he can do. He peels off the patch and sticks it against Fluixon’s forehead, before moving him so that Saparata can sit beside him in case he gets worse. At the sudden contact against his forehead, Fluixon groans in his sleep, hand reaching up to subconsciously peel at the patch, although Saparata’s hand catches his almost instantly, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles absentmindedly to stop him from touching the cooling patch.
The rest of his day is fairly unremarkable, having spent most of his time with Fluixon sleeping beside him, only occasionally getting up to get him some water and other things. He replies to Fluixon’s friends’ messages asking whether he’s okay or not since he hasn’t responded to them for the entire day, and reassures them that he’s fine, just a little under the weather. Fluixon stays asleep until seven in the evening, and even afterwards, he’s less energetic than he usually is (which isn’t a big difference, but noticeable enough to make Saparata a little worried).
When Saparata orders dinner from some restaurant via his phone, Fluixon asks if he can get some chocolates for him as well. Saparata tries to say no, but the pleading look that his partner gives him is too much for him to resist, so he gives in and buys a three-pack of Ferrero Rocher for him. When their food arrives, Fluixon barely touches it, which isn’t uncommon for when he’s sick, but is still slightly troubling for Saparata. He urges the other to eat more, or at least have enough for him to stomach the pill after, and only after he threatens to eat all of the chocolates does Fluixon relent, managing to eat half of his portion before giving up. Deeming it enough, Saparata gives him the chocolates, which he eats all by himself (Saparata internally berates him for being so greedy—not because he wants some, because he definitely doesn’t), then makes him eat the pill again.
Later on, when they get to bed, Fluixon’s temperature is notably lower than earlier, although he is still a little too hot to be deemed healthy, so Saparata lets him sleep without a cooling patch. Somehow, Fluixon manages to go back to sleep despite having spent the entire day asleep. Saparata joins him, holding his lover close and pressing a light kiss to his forehead before falling asleep.