A/N: Part of my Lester/Becker 'verse that started with "Promise Not to Try".

Bed Rest

Becker leaned over Lester to shut off the alarm. "Morning," he said and kissed Lester's temple, which was about the only part of him visible above the blanket. Lester made an incomprehensible noise and wriggled even further into the sheets. Becker smiled to himself. "I'll go and put the coffee on, then."

He went first into the bathroom to shave and brush his teeth, then into the kitchen. While the coffee maker was running, Becker took a quick shower, leaving plenty of hot water so Lester would have no cause for complaint. He wrapped a towel around his waist and grabbed another to dry off his hair while he padded to the kitchen. He poured out two mugs of steaming coffee and brought them back to the bedroom, where Lester appeared not to have moved at all.

Becker sat down on the edge of the bed, waving the coffee near Lester's face. "All right, now, sweetheart, get up. I know how much you hate being late."

"Go away, Becker, give me a minute," Lester said, his voice muffled but still sounding quite peevish. "And put that coffee away, I can't abide the smell."

Becker raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. Lester refusing his morning coffee? That was a first. He tugged the covers down from Lester's face. "Are you feeling all right, James?"

Lester squinted at the light and put a hand over his eyes. "Stop fussing and give me a minute, like I asked, and I'll be fine."

"You don't sound fine and you don't look it, either." Lester's voice sounded strange, too hoarse, and he looked like he was sweating despite the way he was clutching the blankets to himself. Come to think of it, he had felt a little flushed. Becker put the back of his hand to Lester's forehead. "Christ, you're warm. I think you've got a fever."

"I've got a headache, that's all. The room's a bit chilled."

"I think I'd notice if the room was cold," Becker said, tugging at the towel that was currently the only thing he was wearing. "Maybe you should stay home today."

"Don't be stupid, Becker." Lester pushed himself upright and then immediately brought a hand to his head. "That's odd. I've come over a bit dizzy."

Becker rolled his eyes and helped ease Lester down onto his back. "You're ill, love. I'm going to ring the ARC and say you aren't coming in."

"That isn't necessary-"

"It's absolutely necessary. I'm doing it right now." Becker reached for the phone while Lester held out one arm in protest, but soon let it fall as though just holding it up was too much effort.

Lorraine wasn't in yet, as Becker had expected, so he left a message and made a mental note to stop by her office later. After he'd hung up, Becker pulled on underwear, trousers, and shirt. When Lester didn't say a word at the fact that Becker had dropped his wet towels on the floor, Becker knew for certain that his lover was not feeling himself.

He popped back into the bathroom to fix his hair and when he returned to the bedroom, Lester was watching Becker through half-closed eyes, his knees hugging into his chest. He reminded Becker oddly of a little boy.

"I've got time to make you something to eat before I go. Do you want anything?" Becker asked.

A nauseated expression crossed Lester's face. "Even the thought of food makes me want to vomit. I'll pass."

"Can I make you some toast at least? I hate the thought of leaving you with nothing in your stomach."

"Anything that goes near my stomach is most likely going to end up on the floor. I know I don't want to clean that up, do you?"

Becker wrinkled his nose. "Point. Let me at least bring you some water."

"That I can accept."

On his way back from the kitchen, Becker stopped in the bathroom to get a washcloth, which he dampened with cool water. He set down a glass of water on the bedside table and knelt on the floor next to Lester, running the damp cloth over his flushed skin.

"Don't baby me, Becker," Lester protested, but then he closed his eyes and sighed softly.

Becker removed the cloth and replaced it with his lips, pressing a soft kiss against Lester's warm skin. "I'm going to head out now, unless there's something else you need."

"Some quiet would be wonderful."

"Oh, whatever, darling. Will you promise me you'll stay in bed and get some rest? And call me if you need anything?"

"Yes, mother."

"Ungrateful bastard," Becker said without heat and kissed Lester's forehead again because he couldn't resist. He so rarely had the opportunity to take care of Lester like this so he wanted to make the most of it.

"Keep doing that and you'll catch whatever I have," Lester warned. "Then it will be me who gets to take care of you."

"Ugh, don't even say it," Becker said, getting to his feet and picking up the towels to hang in the bathroom to dry. "I had quite enough of that after my stay in hospital." Lester had fussed enough to last Becker the rest of his life.

Becker nearly phoned Lester four times while he was at the ARC, unable to decide whether it would be all right to check up on him or whether he should let Lester rest and not disturb him. Finally he decided to call Lester's mobile, trusting that it would be turned off if Lester was asleep.

Lester picked up after only a few rings, sounding irritated in that way of his that Becker knew was feigned. "No, I haven't fallen or otherwise harmed myself in the handful of hours during which you've been away, Becker, so there's no need to ask."

"That's very reassuring, James, thank you," Becker said dryly. "But how are you feeling? Did you sleep at all? Any new symptoms? Still feeling nauseous? If you like, I'll speak to a medic, maybe they have some tablets you can take or something. You know what, I think I'll do that anyway, no matter what you say."

"You're such a mother hen, Hils, I feel embarrassed for you."

"You love it. Now answer the question."

"Well, there were so many of them, I hardly know where to begin. I'm fine, honestly. I've been having a lie-in all day, I only got up to have a piss. It's probably just one of those twenty-four hour bugs, so there's no need for all your worrying."

Becker could tell by Lester's tone that he was frustrated, but his voice sounded stronger than it had that morning. Lester was a frightful patient but the rest seemed to be doing him good. "As your partner, it's my prerogative to worry about you. Clearly you have no concern for your own well-being, so it's left to me."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line as Lester doubtless struggled to come up with an appropriate response. Becker did so love to catch Lester off-guard. Finally Lester asked, "How are things going at the ARC? Has there been-"

"Uh uh," Becker interrupted. "No talking about work. We can manage perfectly well without you for one day."

"Forgive me if I expect better than simply 'managing'."

"Unfortunately we can't all be as perfect as you, sweetie, so you'll have to bear with us."

Lester sighed heavily. "When will you be home?"

"Aw, don't tell me you miss me," Becker said, leaning back in his chair.

"Of course not. I'd simply like to have a warning so that my other lover can leave before you arrive."

"In that case, expect me home early. It's been a while since I've had a threesome."

"Please refrain from regaling me with the details of your sordid past," Lester said while sounding as if he'd smelled something particularly foul.

"I suppose you've never had one."

"I prefer not to kiss and tell, but you suppose wrong, my love."

Becker almost tipped backwards in his chair. "You're lying."

Lester laughed softly. "Why should you think you're the only one who, shall we say, experimented?"

Becker sat there loosely gripping the phone to his ear while his brain exploded.

"Hils? Are you still there?"

"What? Oh, uh, yes, still here. You know what, I think I should let you go. Get some rest, James, okay? I'll try to come home soon."

He disconnected and put the phone down, staring at it until he went cross-eyed. At a more appropriate time, Becker decided, they were going to continue this discussion. In detail.

Maybe there was photographic evidence.

Lester was asleep when Becker came home, spread out on his back with the sheets rucked down around his hips. The bin was pulled over by the side of the bed but it was thankfully empty. Becker pressed the back of his hand to Lester's forehead, pleased to discover that he felt much cooler.

He left the room silently, closing the door, and let Lester sleep.

It wasn't until hours later that Lester woke up, shuffling over to where Becker was seated on the couch with a book. He eased himself down and leaned back against the cushions, rubbing his eyes briefly.

"Feeling any better, love?" Becker asked in a quiet voice.

"Much," Lester confirmed. "Don't even think about attempting to talk me out of returning to work in the morning."

Becker pursed his lips and thought about arguing, but there was no point in having a spat while Lester was tired and not himself. He would see where things stood in the morning. "All right. Do you feel up to eating anything?"

Lester pondered the question and said finally, "Maybe a little. Something bland?"

"I think there's some broth, or there's always dry toast."

"Just the toast, please. Anything else would feel like pushing it."

"Give me a minute," Becker said and levered himself up off the couch. He went into the kitchen and popped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster, drumming his fingers against the countertop while he waited. He brought the toast out to Lester along with a glass of water.

Lester ate slowly but he finished both pieces of toast and looked like he was even going to manage to keep them down. He blinked blearily at Becker. "I think I might like to go back to bed."

"I think that's best. Why don't you sit here a while longer and I'll change the sheets. You probably sweated right through them."

So Becker got a clean set of bed sheets from the linen closet and remade the bed, dumping the dirty bedding straight into the washer. Then he retrieved Lester, who was nearly asleep again already, from the couch and helped him into bed. Becker sat on the edge again, much as he had that morning, running his fingers through Lester's hair. He smelled a bit stale and Becker could just hear his mother yelling about getting into bed dirty when the sheets were clean.

"Maybe you should sleep somewhere else," Lester suggested without much enthusiasm for the idea. "I don't want you to get sick."

"I think if I'm going to catch your germs, I've caught them already, honey. Sleeping in the same bed isn't likely to make much difference either way now."

"Hmm, maybe you're right."

"I'm always right. I'll have a wash and join you in a minute, okay?" Becker spent a few minutes in the bathroom and then shucked his clothes into the laundry hamper, coming back out into the bedroom.

When Becker got into bed, he was careful to lie on his back on his own side in case Lester didn't want the extra contract. Soon enough, however, Lester rolled over and curled himself against Becker, half on top of him, giving a little sigh of contentment. Becker smiled indulgently and petted Lester's hair, lying awake for a while longer.

Lester did seem fine in the morning and Becker probably rightly decided it would be beyond his abilities to convince him to stay home another day. He did, however, manage to get Lester to leave earlier than normal, which Becker considered a victory worth being proud of.

Becker made something plain for dinner, chicken and rice and vegetables, and Lester ate without any ill effects, though his appetite was still a bit less than usual. Becker spent the evening well aware that he was staring more than was polite, but he was torn between a desire to make sure Lester truly was okay as well as an overwhelming curiosity brought on by Lester's off-hand comments the previous day.

Before bed, Becker couldn't help asking, "Were you being serious on the phone yesterday?"

"I spent most of the day in a nauseous, sleep-induced stupor. It would be cruel of you to hold anything I may have said or done against me."

"So you haven't had a threesome?"

After a pause, Lester said quietly, "Oh, that."

"Yes, that. You can't spring that on me and expect me to ignore it." Becker sat up in order to see Lester better, letting the sheets pool around his waist.

"Clearly that would be too much to ask."

"I bet it was hot. Was it hot?"

A kind of fond, self-satisfied remembrance showed on Lester's face. "I seem to recall that it was, yes."

"I don't suppose I could coax any details out of you?"

Lester tossed him a glare that came across plainly even in the darkness of the room.

"I didn't think so. Still, I have an excellent imagination. Answer me this at least, so I have a starting point. Two men, two women, or one of each?"

"If you must know," Lester said, heaving a sigh, "two men and one of each."

"You've had more than one? You're not serious. Are you taking the piss? You aren't, are you? Why, James," Becker said, not knowing whether he wanted to be impressed or gleeful, "I had no idea you had such a tarty past."

"Would you say that I know what I'm doing in the bedroom, sweetheart?"

"Absolutely," Becker said with a leer.

"Well, how do you suppose I came to be that way? I've always found that practice makes perfect." And Lester insisted that Becker was the smug one.

But Becker supposed he could allow it in this instance. "Mmm, I'll say. Have you ever thought about having one again?"

"Have you?"

"Possibly." Becker may have been thinking about it all day at work.

"And what conclusion did you arrive at?"

"It would be hot," Becker answered simply. "Watching you. I could get off just thinking about watching you."

Lester chuckled. "You would like that, wouldn't you? Kinky bugger. Tell me, have you given any thought as to the identity of this hypothetical third person?"

And, yes, Becker had already thought about that, too. "That's the question, isn't it? Do we go with a stranger or someone we know? As far as people we know go... If the thing with Abby hadn't worked out, I bet Connor would have gone for it. I've caught him checking out my arse and he's terribly fond of you."

"Are you trying to force a recurrence of my symptoms?"

"Or there's Jess. I'm almost positive she'd be interested." Becker still wasn't completely certain if Jess had been joking about watching the security footage of them or not that one time.

"Jess?" Lester's nose wrinkled in a way that Becker certainly didn't find cute. "That's revolting. I'm old enough to be her father."

"You're old enough to be my father, too. Young, yes, but you could be."

Lester threw a pillow at Becker's face.

Catching it and tossing it aside, Becker laughed. "What? I'm only pointing out the fallacy in your logic, dear."

"Please keep those observations to yourself unless you'd like to never sleep with me again."

Becker pretended to gasp. "Don't even joke about that. I might have a nightmare now. I'll be waking you up for a cuddle if I do," he said and leaned forward to smack a kiss to the corner of Lester's mouth.

But Lester only reached up to stroke his fingers at the back of Becker's neck, his expression far more serious than Becker thought the situation called for. "Would you really want to have a threesome?" There was a faint thread of genuine apprehension in Lester's voice.

And the thing was, Becker really, really didn't. Thinking about watching Lester with someone else, abstractly, was one thing, but as Becker put a face to it, pictured, for example, Connor's hand on Lester's hip, Lester kissing Jess' neck, a dark coil of jealousy curled in Becker's belly. Lester was his and no one else's.

He also, maybe, felt a little guilty for pushing it. This was probably one of those topics that should have been put in a box labeled 'Do Not Discuss' after what Becker had done. If their situations had been reversed, Becker thought that even talking about this like they were, jokingly, would have made him feel a bit ill.

"No," he said. "You're more than enough for me."

Lester pinned him to the mattress, possessive in the best way, in the way that always made Becker hard just seeing Lester like that. Apparently Lester really was feeling better. "Good, because I've never been good at sharing."

End