A/N: Something short and sweet to add to my far too rare contribution to the DTMG fandom.

All of my DTMG work takes place in or around my own AU in which Billy is alive and well and never died. Each one shot is a sequel to a chapter-based story that I'm currently working on that explains this AU. I suppose all anyone needs to know is that the canon timeline did happen (Billy at one time was a ghost), however both Billy and Spencer are the only ones who remember it. When Billy was given a second chance, a new timeline was created where Billy never died. There's a 6 year age difference between the two of them. This particular one shot takes place when Spencer is in college and living with Billy.

Please enjoy reading. Fluff warning!

-Transmittable-

Billy sniffled loudly; inhaling the snot that would have otherwise drained out of his nostrils. He squeezed his sheets around him tightly and grumbled, "This sucks."

After several nights of non-stop gallivanting through the night-life of Miami, he had flown home to L.A. in time to come down with a severe cold; possibly due to lack of sleep and proper nourishment. Being hung over didn't help much either.

He shifted his weight and shivered; listening as a familiar set of footsteps prose the hallway outside his bedroom. The door was cracked ever-so-slightly, allowing Billy to eavesdrop on a phone conversation taking place.

"Mr. Greer? Hey, this is Spencer Wright. …Yeah, that one kid. Listen,….yeah, I know you're waiting for him. I'm calling to let you know that he won't be able to make it."

Billy closed his eyes as he listened.

"…I understand that, but he can't. Yeah, he's sick. … I don't know! No, it's not terminal. I get that you're on a tight schedule…believe me. …You have to make an exception."

Mr. Greer was one of Billy's managers and a strict one at that. He had scheduled a flight for Billy at noon to attend a signing in Seattle later that evening. However, upon waking up ill there was no prying the at-times stubborn rock star from his bed.

"I don't think you understand though, sir. Billy's actually sick. Yeah…. Yeah, I know that. I'm sure he's pulled this a ton of times. Stop…like I said, I get that." Spencer continued to argue.

Billy stared at the nightstand nearest his bed. A Nixon wrist watch, which belonged to Spencer, lay loosely atop the small wooden table. He studied the item, tracing around it several times with his gaze.

"Listen, I don't care what you tell everyone. He's not going anywhere! ….Yeah, right back at you."

Billy heard Spencer plop his cell phone down onto a hard surface with force. He sunk further into his blankets as the bedroom door opened, sending a strip of light into the otherwise dim room.

Spence walked in and peeked down at the bundled-up musician. "That takes care of that."

Billy peered up at him with a pitiful expression, "He's gunna kill me."

"No he's not. The dude's an asshole. He can figure things out, it's his job."

BJC cracked a short smile before letting out a few coughs. His cheeks were flushed red. Spencer took a seat at the edge of the bed and placed his hand atop Billy's forehead. "Dude, you're burning up."

"Nah man, I'm freezing…"

Spencer ran his hand down to the musician's cheek and smoothed the skin with his thumb, "This is what you get for partying too much."

"Don't even go there, bro."

"What? It's true." Spencer grinned down at him.

Billy grumbled.

A few moments of silence passed before Spencer began to stand up, "Well, get some rest man. You owe me one for bailing you out of work."

Before he could get to his feet, Billy grabbed the younger man's arm, pulling him back onto the bed.

"Come on, Billy. You need to get some sleep."

"Bromeo, can't you stay with me?"

"No, I don't want to catch whatever you have."

"Please? I won't be able to sleep if you don't stay…"

"Don't pull this right now, man."

Spencer stared down at his sickly companion, who was doing his best interpretation of puppy-dog eyes while looking incredibly exhausted. He felt him tug at his arm a little more. Before Spence could say anything, Billy began coughing again, burying his face into his blankets.

With an undying soft spot for the obnoxious rock star, Spencer gave in. He lifted the sheets and wiggled his way into the warm cocoon. He placed an arm around Billy's shivering shoulders and began to rub his hand up and down the other man's back, "You're such a baby."

Billy smiled as he nestled his head in-between Spencer's chin and collarbone.

"You better not get me sick." The up-and-coming director spoke softly, continuing to rub Billy's back.

"…..Thanks for staying." Was the musician's muffled response.

Spencer smiled, "Yeah, yeah."

-The Next Morning-

"Laaaate!" Billy shrieked through the pint-house as he ran back and forth from his bedroom to the entryway, piling mounds of luggage by the door.

Spencer sat in the kitchen at the dining table, his face pressed against the glass top with a miserable expression on his face.

There was a loud slam and Billy yelped, "DAMN it- my toe!"

"Slow down and come eat something." Spence slurred.

Billy hobbled into the kitchen to find a bowl of lucky charms sitting in front of his usual seat. He glanced at Spencer with an appreciative face, his eyes still watering from his collision with whatever piece of furniture he had hit.

As he sat down and started scarfing down the cereal, he noticed Spencer's lack of breakfast or enthusiasm. "You ok, brolo?"

The younger man managed to pick his head up from the table, sighing. "I'll be fine."

Billy took another spoonful of marshmallow goodness, although slowing his consumption.

Spencer sniffed loudly, "I hope you're happy. I'll be stuck in the house all day now."

"….You feeling sick?"

Spencer shot a sarcastic glare at the musician before bringing his arms up and resting them on the table, lowering his temple down on his forearms.

Billy frowned. This was his fault. He peeked at his cell phone to check the time, finding it a minute past the hour that his town car was supposed to pick him up. Instead of panicking, he slid his phone into his back pocket and pushed his partially-empty cereal bowl away. "I'll stay with you, dude."

"No, man. You can't miss this again. They already rescheduled the signing once. You have to go."

Billy twiddled his thumbs, "…You sure?"

Of course Spencer wasn't sure, but there really wasn't a choice. "Yeah, positive. Just go, you're going to miss your ride."

The rock star felt his cell phone begin to vibrate in his back pocket. He ignored it as he watched Spencer's hunched shoulders rise and fall with labored breath. A determined look fell across Billy's features as he reached into his pocket and answered.

"Hey dude. Yeeaah, not going to make it today…."

Spencer lifted his head to watch Billy on his cell phone.

"….Totally not feeling good. Yeah, still. True, but I've got this horrible nauseous feeling. Can't do it, Bro. Oh, ok. Yeah? Whatever man, like I said, can't hang. …..Yooouuu too." Billy pressed the end-call button and laid his phone down on the table.

Spencer stared, "Dude, what are you doing? You can't just cancel again. You're going to get a bad rep. I said I'd be fine."

Billy scratched his head, "I know you'd be fine. But I wouldn't be, you know?"

Spencer coughed and rested his head back down again on the table, "That's stupid, Billy. I would have been ok."

Billy too lowered his head onto the table so that their eyes were level with each other from across the glass, "I want to be here with you."

Spencer's eyes locked with Billy's. After a moment, the younger man looked away, "….I want you here with me too….But…-"

He was cut off by a few coughs as Billy stood up and walked over to Spencer's chair, kneeling down and lending him an arm. "Come on."

Spencer swung his arm around Billy's neck as the musician rose and walked his ill companion to the living room; lowering him down on the couch and placing a blanket around him. "Not going anywhere, brohandsome."

Spencer took in the scent of Billy's cologne and the way he looked in his fine-pressed blazer. He stared up at him from the couch with a bit of admiration.

The rock star grinned, "Two questions. One, what do you want to eat? And two, what do you want to watch? Whatever you want, don't be stingy."

Spence blinked a bit as he sunk further into the blanket. Billy's face was smeared with morality and (clearly) a great deal of love. How could he deny the rock star's affection when he was so wonderful at giving it? He smiled a bit, trying to hide his red face. "….Well…"

-Several Hours later-

Snacks lay strewn across the coffee table as Billy and Spencer sat isolated in blankets in front of the television.

Billy sat upright as Spencer rested his head against the musician's chest, sitting with one leg dangling across his lap. Billy had his arm across Spencer's shoulders, keeping him close.

Screams emitted from the surround sound as a zombie flick played.

Billy pressed his lips together, trying to keep from screeching himself. He was never a fan of horror films.

"…Shit..no, wait….he's totally gunna…..- Yep, dude just got his face eaten off….Man…Brofessor, I know this stuff is fake but why do they have to make it look so realistic?" Billy whined, peeking down at Spencer. However, the young brunette was deep in slumber, breathing lightly in comfort.

Billy watched him for a moment before resting his cheek atop Spencer's head. "Don't fall asleep and leave me alone with this on." He hummed quietly as he dug around for the remote and changed the On Demand to something kid-friendly. A small and colorful talking penguin appeared on the screen. Billy smiled, "That's better."

Fin/~