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Manual had been watching Thomas for the last half an hour, not liking the way he was holding his side and grimacing as he tried - and failed - to kick the ball past Manu.
“What’s wrong with you today?” Manu asked as he handed back the ball that Thomas had shot about five feet wide.
“I’m fine, Manu,” Thomas sighed as he caught the ball with a wince.
“You don’t look fine, and you haven’t been able to get the ball past me yet; something is wrong with you.” Manuel frowned as he moved closer to the younger man.
He put the back of his hand against Thomas’s head and felt heat radiate off of it.
“I’m fine, Manu, I’ll be back in a minute,” Thomas muttered before he jogged to the toilets.
“Is everything alright?” Mats wondered as he walked around Manu.
“I don’t know. There’s something wrong with Thomas. I think he’s sick.” Manu frowned.
“Did you say there was something wrong with Müller? Where is he?” Carlo asked as he appeared out of nowhere.
“He went to the bathroom. He has a temperature; I think he’s coming down with something,” Manu explained.
“Let’s just hope it isn’t like the last time he got sick,” Mats mumbled.
“What happened?” Carlo questioned.
“He lied about being sick so he could play the match, you know how he is. His chest infection nearly turned into pneumonia, the idiot,” Mats commented.
“Well, if he’s sick, bring him home. Look after him, Neuer,” Carlo added before he walked away.
“Go,” Mats said as he gave Manuel a slight push.
Manuel found Thomas bracing himself against the sink, his eyes red and his face splotchy.
“Oh, Thomas,” Manuel sighed as he nosed at his hair.
“Manu, can we go home?” Thomas mumbled as he held his stomach.
“Yeah, come on.” Manuel kissed his hair as he wrapped an arm around Thomas.
Thomas sat down on the bench as Manuel threw both of their bags over his shoulder, one hand tapping out a text to Mats, before he smiled at Thomas.
“Let’s get you home, Mülli,” Manuel announced.
Thomas fell asleep on the drive home, his mouth slightly open. Manuel didn’t want to wake him, but in the end he did.
“C’mon, Tommy,” Manuel mumbled as he helped a half-asleep Thomas out of the car.
Thomas crashed out on the sofa once they made it inside, his head resting against Manuel’s chest. The keeper’s fingers were moving slowly through the forward’s curls. Thomas groaned as another wave of cramps attacked his stomach; he bolted upright and headed straight for the bathroom. Manuel followed him, listening as Thomas retched and puked into the toilet.
“Thomas…” Manuel said softly, rubbing his hand down the younger man’s back.
Thomas didn’t reply; instead, he curled into himself in the middle of the bathroom floor. Manu sat down beside him, resting the younger man’s head on his lap.
“Where does it hurt?” Manu wondered.
Thomas pointed to the area. It was too high up to be the appendix, so Manu let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Thomas grimaced at the sour bile taste that was left in his mouth. They sat like that for a while. Thomas emptied his entire stomach, and even then the puking didn’t stop.
“Why don’t we go back to the sofa?” Manuel whispered as he continued to play with Thomas’s curly strands.
Thomas nodded and tried to stand up, but all the blood rushed to his head; he would’ve fallen if Manuel hadn’t caught him. The goalkeeper carried him bridal-style to the sofa before he sat them down like that. Even though sweat was beading on Thomas’s head, he reached for the thick fleece. He had his head under Manuel’s chin, their hands laced together.
“Try and get some sleep,” Manu whispered in his ear as he turned on Netflix.
Thomas let out a noise as a reply before he closed his eyes. Manu didn’t realise that he had fallen asleep until he heard Thomas in the bathroom again. The goalkeeper sighed as he walked into the room, where Thomas was resting his head against the cool tile wall.
“What happened?”
“I tried to drink some water, it didn’t work,” Thomas tried to joke.
“Do you think that you’ve gotten everything out you?” Manuel wondered.
“I think so, just remind me to not eat or drink anything,” Thomas sighed as he got up.
The younger man brushed his teeth for what seemed like the twentieth time today, trying to get rid of the foul taste in his mouth.
“Bed?” Manuel questioned as he kissed Thomas’s forehead.
“Bed,” Thomas agreed as they began to leave the room.
Once the two of them were wrapped around each other again, Manuel put on the movie they had been watching downstairs.
“I don’t remember any of this.” Thomas smiled as he kissed Manuel.
“You’re lucky that I love you Mülli. If I get sick because of you…” Manuel muttered.
“I’ll look after you like you looked after me today,” Thomas mumbled.
The younger man snuggled as close to Manuel as he could, closing his eyes and hoping that he’d be fine now.
“Oh, and Thomas, thanks for not lying this time and nearly getting pneumonia,” Manuel chuckled.
“Jogi warned me not to; he said something about if I do it to myself he’d be having one of his chats with me. I want to stay live, thank you very much,” Thomas grunted.
“Still…”
“Shh, sleep,” Thomas sighed.
Manuel rolled his eyes before he kissed Thomas’s hair.
“I love you,” Manuel whispered.
“Of course you do.”