I drop my hands. I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here, but his eyes look a little more focused than they did earlier, and his cheeks are less flushed. “Feeling any better?”
“No.” He pouts. “Everything hurts. My head is pounding. I don’t think I can move. It’s just me and this couch forever now.”
I cross the room to check his forehead again. It’s less hot than earlier. Still, I don’t like seeing him so miserable and feeling like there’s nothing I can do to help.
“Have you eaten today?” I check.
“Not hungry.”
“Wrong answer.” I shake my head before heading back into his kitchen. I’m pleasantly surprised to find it fully stocked with food. Chad really must be bored around here with Blake out of town and me back at work.
Not that we need to hang out any more than we already do. I just know he’s a more social person than I am.
I find some chicken noodle soup and heat it up for him.When it’s ready, I don’t bother to ask Chad if he wants to come into the kitchen; I know he won’t want to move any more than he has to, so I take his bowl to the couch and help him sit up again.
“Thank you,” he says gratefully, eyeing the soup like it’s something far more special than it is.
“Yup.”
“Want to watch something with me? I can’t do sex today, but we can still hangout.”
He sounds so hopeful, and I should probably stay until it’s time for his next dose of meds anyway. I had a new box of it that I’ll leave with him for tomorrow, but I want to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep and miss taking it again with how hot he felt when I got here. So I reluctantly agree. “Sure.”
His face lights up as much as he’s capable of while still being ill. “Really?”
“I’m choosing what we watch though.” He nods eagerly, and I put the hockey playoffs on.
“Oh my God, do you like sports?”
“Of course.” I shrug. I don’t think I’ve ever given him the impression I don’t. But then I realize why he sounds so surprised. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not Liam? Just because he doesn’t like sports doesn’t mean I don’t.”
His eyelids are still heavy as he responds. “I know you’re not Liam. You’re so much better. You’re perfect.”
Something in my chest seems to tighten at his comment, but I’m not ready to think about why, so I just grunt and try to focus on the game.
By the time it ends, he’s due for more meds, so I help Chad take them and insist he move to his bed with clean blankets. Getting him upstairs is a struggle while he wraps his arms around me and insists I “carry him,” but eventually we get there. It’s kind of impressive just how dramatic he can be. Endearing even.
When he’s tucked into his bed, he almost immediately dozesoff. As I stare at his peaceful expression, that pull in my chest happens again.Nope.Not thinking about that. I run back down to grab Chad a fresh glass of water and leave the cold medicine box on his nightstand for the morning.
Before I leave, I put the blankets from the couch into the washing machine and watch the post-game recaps while I wait to switch them to the dryer.
It’s well after midnight by the time I get home. But it’s still definitely not a sleepover.
Because I know that’s at least one rule of the arrangement I can follow.
The rest… Well, I don’t want to think about that.
Liam
Hey man. We got back late last night, the trip was amazing. Are you free to come over today? Would love to catch up and tell you about it. Blake is also very excited to show off his pictures and some of the content he made.
I groanas I force my eyes to focus on the text from Liam. Not because I don’t want to see him and hear about his trip, but because my head is throbbing and the light from my screen isn’t helping.
Fuck. I meant what I said the other day to Chad. I never get sick. This is probably an allergy thing. Pollen in the air combined with a lack of caffeine yet this morning.
Still, I should probably skip seeing him today.
John
