Summary – Yao is sick. How does Arthur take care of the man he loves? England/China established relationship.
A/N – Hello again. I'm back with fic! (I always start this way, don't I?) Anyhoo… I hope you enjoy this fic. Inspiration actually came to me while watching TV, so it may not be that good. It is quite short, and doesn't really have a plot (in my opinion) but fluffy :p Unbeta-ed, as usual.
Arthur was driving home from work. In the back seat, little Hong Kong was quietly playing with his stuffed panda; Arthur had just picked him up from the babysitter's after work, as per his and Yao's arrangement.
"What would you like for dinner, Hong?" Arthur asked as he turned into their driveway.
Hong Kong paused and placed his stuffed panda on his lap. He looked thoughtful. "Fried noodles," he replied monotonously.
Arthur grinned at his son through the rear-view mirror. "Okay," he replied. "We'll go get daddy Yao and we can go to dinner together, okay?"
Hong Kong nodded excitedly. He hadn't had authentic Chinese fried noodles in a long time, and he was already salivating as he thought about it.
Arthur pulled the brake of his car and switched off the engine. He got out, opened the back door of the car and Hong Kong hopped out, still hugging his stuffed panda.
However, when Arthur unlocked and opened the door to his home, he was greeted with darkness. He frowned. That was strange – Yao was usually home from work at that time and would be reading or watching television in the living room.
Hong Kong, too, noticed something was amiss. He hesitantly tugged on his father's hand and looked at him worriedly.
"It's okay," Arthur whispered to his son gently. "Yao!" he called. "Are you home?"
There was no answer.
What caught Arthur's attention, though, was the heap of blankets on the three-seater sofa in the living room. He squinted and switched on the light.
Hong Kong also noticed the small mountain of blankets on the sofa. As lights illuminated the room, Hong Kong approached it cautiously and lifted a few of the blankets to reveal a sleeping Yao. "Daddy!" he exclaimed happily.
Arthur sat on the edge of the sofa beside Hong Kong and gently shook the Asian man awake. "Yao?"
Yao stirred slightly and opened a bleary eye. "Arth'r?" he mumbled.
"Yeah," Arthur replied. "Are you alright?"
"N't really, aru," Yao sniffled and tried to sit up. When he couldn't muster enough energy to do so, he gave up and flopped bonelessly onto the sofa. "I think 'm sick."
Arthur lifted his hand to touch Yao's forehead. It was burning hot. "Looks like you have a fever, dear," Arthur told Yao. "You didn't go to work today, did you?"
"W'nt in the morning, aru," replied Yao as he rubbed his nose. "C'uldn't take it anymore after lunch, so I came h'me. I also t'k some medication, but it d'esn't seem to be working, aru." He let out a huge yawn. "Wh't time is it?"
"It's almost 6 o'clock," Arthur replied.
Yao then broke into a series of coughs.
"Hong Kong," Arthur turned to his son. "Can you go to the kitchen and get daddy a glass of water?"
With wide eyes, Hong Kong nodded and trotted to the kitchen.
Arthur brushed a stray lock of hair that had fallen into Yao's eye back. "Listen – I'm going to take Hong for dinner first, but when I get back, I'll take care of you, okay?"
Yao nodded.
"Do you want anything to eat?"
Yao shook his head. "Can't st'mach anything right now, aru."
"It's okay – when I get home, I'll make you some chicken soup. At least get something into your body so that you can recover quickly."
It was then Hong Kong returned with a glass of water. Arthur helped Yao to sit up. With a weak smile, Yao accepted the glass from his son. "Th'nk you, aru."
Hong Kong smiled encouragingly in return.
Yao gulped down the water. When he was done, he lay his head back on the armrest of the sofa. Arthur gently pried the glass away from Yao's fingers.
"You'll be alright here for a little while?"
Yao nodded feebly. "'M just g'nna close my eyes for a little while, aru…"
Arthur placed the glass on the coffee table. He turned to his son, who seemed to be terrified by the turn of events. "Come on, Hong," Arthur said. "Let's go for a quick dinner so that we can be home to take care of daddy."
Hong Kong took his father's hand wordlessly and allowed himself to be led out of the house.
When Arthur had driven for a while, Hong Kong finally broke the silence. "Is daddy going to die?" he whispered. There was a hint of fear in his voice.
"What?" Arthur glanced sideways at his son. "What gives you that idea?"
Hong Kong looked at his clenched hands on his lap. "Dunno. On TV, whenever someone gets sick, they die."
Arthur chuckled gently. "Well, Hong, that's TV. They have to be dramatic," he told Hong Kong. "This is real life – Yao is not going to die from a flu."
"Sure?" Hong Kong asked his father.
"Positive," replied Arthur with a smile. "He just needs us to take care of him for a while. Think you can do that?"
Hong Kong nodded excitedly. It was good to know that his daddy was not going to die and his fears were put to rest.
When Arthur and Hong Kong got home, Yao was still fast asleep on the sofa in the same spot that Arthur had left him.
Arthur turned to his son. "Why don't you go and get ready for bed? I'll be there to read you your bedtime story in a few minutes."
Hong Kong shook his head but was smiling. "It's okay – I can go to sleep by myself. He needs you more."
Arthur blinked. That was a very mature thing of his son to do. "You sure?"
"Yes!" said Hong Kong before he bounded off to his room.
Arthur looked lovingly at his son's retreating back before turning his attention to the prone figure lying on the sofa.
Arthur figured he should bring Yao to their room to rest on a comfortable bed. He lifted Yao bridal-style and carried him upstairs to their room. Finally, Arthur laid Yao on the bed softly.
It was then Arthur noticed the sheen of sweat coating Yao's forehead. The fever must have caused him to sweat… Arthur mused.
Arthur then decided that he would bathe Yao, tuck him into bed and then make him some chicken soup. Who knows – maybe the evaporation of water from Yao's skin during the bath might help in relieving the fever.
Arthur made his way into the bathroom to fill the bathtub with warm water.
After that, Arthur went into the bedroom to rouse Yao gently. "Yao? I prepared a bath for you."
Yao groaned and rolled to his side. "N' energy, aru…" he moaned.
"I'll help you," Arthur told him. "Hell, I'll even take a bath with you."
Yao opened an eye. "Re'lly?"
"Yes – you are sweating from the fever and frankly, you stink."
With his opened eye, Yao managed to glare at Arthur. "Let's see you g't sick and then you c'n complain about stinking, aru."
Arthur laughed heartily. "Sorry, love – just wanted to get my point across."
Yao pouted as Arthur helped him sit up. "Couldn't you h've done it in a gentler way?"
"Yes, and I'm sorry," Arthur told Yao as he unbuttoned his shirt. "After our bath, I'll make you some soup, okay?"
Yao nodded and smiled at Arthur lovingly. Getting sick was one thing. But the best part of it? It was being pampered by his lover.
Later, Arthur had dressed Yao in his pyjamas and tucked him into bed. "I'll be back with your soup soon," Arthur had assured Yao.
Despite Arthur being very bad at cooking, he actually made pretty good soup. And Yao had to admit, he was somewhat eager to taste the soup Arthur was making. And although he willed himself to stay awake while sitting on the bed waiting for Arthur, Yao's treacherous body seemed determined on falling asleep.
Before Yao knew it, Arthur was gently shaking him awake. "Yao, your soup's here," Arthur told him softly.
Yao opened his eyes and looked at Arthur sleepily. He reached out to take the bowl from Arthur, but as soon as Arthur saw how badly Yao's hands were shaking, he held the bowl out of Yao's reach.
"I'll feed you," Arthur said. "Don't want you spilling hot soup all over yourself."
Yao managed a scowl at Arthur, although it looked more like a grimace than anything else.
Arthur scooped a spoonful of soup and held it to Yao's mouth. "Open up," he said good-naturedly.
Yao sighed and opened his mouth to take in the soup. "Wh're's Hong, aru?"
"Oh, he went to bed already," Arthur replied as he continued to feed Yao.
Yao blinked. "Wh't about his bedtime story?"
Arthur shrugged. "He said that you needed me more and that he could go to bed by himself."
"Aw," Yao sniffed. "Th't's so sweet, aru."
Arthur grinned as he held another spoonful of soup to Yao's mouth. "You raised him well."
"I didn't do it al'ne!" Yao was turning pinkish in colour as he turned away in embarrassment. "You raised 'im too."
Arthur chuckled softly and placed the bowl of half-eaten soup on the bedside table. "Do you want more?"
Yao shook his head. "'M afraid I'll puke if I eat anym're, aru."
"Okay," Arthur nodded. He moved so that Yao could slide deeper into the covers. "You go to sleep and rest well, okay?" Arthur pulled the blanket up so that only Yao's head could be seen.
Yao nodded and gazed at Arthur endearingly. "Okay," he replied. "I love you. G'd night, aru."
Arthur smiled in return and leaned forward to plant a kiss on Yao's forehead. "I love you too," he replied.
That night, Arthur was awakened by some movement from Yao's side of the bed. He blearily opened his eyes to ask Yao what was wrong. However, when Arthur glanced at his lover, he was fast asleep, but had a distressed expression on his face. It looked like Yao was having a nightmare.
Arthur didn't want to wake Yao up, but he couldn't stand to see Yao this distraught. He wrapped his arms around Yao, slightly glad that Yao didn't feel as hot as he did that evening. "Love, I'm here," he whispered into Yao's ear. "I won't let anything happen to you."
Yao's breathing was getting more and more erratic as he worked on catching his breath. After a few moments of Arthur whispering encouraging and comforting words into Yao's ear, he visibly relaxed, and slipped into blissful oblivion once again.
Arthur smiled tenderly and brought Yao's body closer to his. He kissed the Asian man gently on the head and nuzzled into his sweet-smelling hair, before falling asleep again, not releasing his hold on the smaller man.
The next morning, when Arthur woke up, Yao already had his eyes open as his head lay on the soft pillow beside Arthur. He was staring sleepily at Arthur, who still had his arms wrapped around Yao.
"Yao!" Arthur gasped and sat up quickly. "Are you feeling better today?" Arthur rolled Yao over and ran his hands over Yao's body, checking for any discomfort that he might feel.
Yao smiled at Arthur. "Slightly better, aru."
Arthur grinned and kissed Yao on the lips. "Glad to know that."
"But I probably will call in sick today – I'm still feeling quite awful, aru," Yao mused thoughtfully.
"That's fair," Arthur replied. "Why don't you wait here while I wake Hong and have a quick shower with him?"
Arthur left the bedroom and moments later, Hong Kong sauntered sleepily in, rubbing his eyes. However, when he caught sight of Yao looking at him from the bed, Hong Kong immediately perked up. "Daddy!" he exclaimed, running towards his father.
"Morning, Hong, aru," greeted Yao as he reached out to ruffle Hong Kong's hair.
"Are you still sick?" inquired Hong Kong worriedly. He looked carefully at his father's face.
"Yes, but I'm feeling better today, aru," Yao told his son, caressing his cheek. "Don't give your father too much trouble, okay?"
Hong Kong nodded obediently. "I won't," he replied with a smile. Hong Kong then turned around to face Arthur, who was beckoning him into the bathroom.
Yao gazed affectionately at his son's back from where he lay on the bed. As Arthur and Hong Kong took their morning shower and the sounds of water splashing about could be heard from the bathroom, Yao figured he could close his eyes for a while.
Yao wasn't aware that he had fallen asleep until Hong Kong bounced on the bed, all dressed in his uniform and asked Yao if he wanted to have breakfast.
"It's okay, aru," said Yao weakly. "I don't have the appetite."
"But," Hong Kong began worriedly. "You won't get better if you don't eat anything!"
Arthur came up to them and stroked Hong Kong on the head. He had just shrugged on his blazer and looked very smart. "It's okay – I'll make some hot chocolate and put it in a flask and he can drink it in his own time."
Hong Kong didn't seem convinced that it was the best solution, but nevertheless, he grudgingly said, "Okay…"
"Come on – off you go," Arthur told Hong Kong as he gestured for him to get out of the bedroom. "Go and have your breakfast, then I'll drop you off at kindergarten."
Hong Kong nodded and went downstairs.
Arthur turned towards Yao, who was watching the father-son interaction in mild amusement. "You'll be okay by yourself today?"
Yao nodded. "I think I'll be sleeping most of the day, aru," he told the Englishman.
"Okay," Arthur bent forward and kissed Yao on the forehead. "If you're asleep when I bring your hot chocolate up, I'll place it on the side-table and you can drink it whenever you feel like it, okay?"
Yao smiled up at Arthur. "Thank you, aru."
Arthur gently stroked the side of Yao's face. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I love you."
Yao was still smiling. "I love you too."
After spending most of the day sleeping, by late afternoon, Yao was feeling immensely better. He even managed to make his way downstairs and make himself a snack, and go back upstairs to the bedroom to lie down.
However, he still didn't have the energy to do much else, so Yao settled for staring blankly into space while he waited for Arthur and Hong Kong to get home.
Yao didn't have to wait very long, for moments later, Hong Kong came running upstairs, screaming, "Daddydaddydaddydaddy!"
As soon as Hong Kong spotted Yao, he leapt onto his father and engulfed him in a massive hug.
"Oof, Hong!" Yao exclaimed. "Be gentle, aru!"
Hong Kong grinned and held up a tulip to Yao's face. "Mei gave this to me!" Mei was his cousin, and they attended the same kindergarten.
Yao looked at the flower. It was a lovely yellow colour but it didn't look like it had totally bloomed yet. "That's nice – she must really like you, aru."
"Dunno," Hong Kong shrugged. "She was just thanking me for playing with her today – her best friend was sick and didn't go to school, so she had no one to play with. I told her that you were sick too, so I understood how she felt."
"That's nice of you, Hong," said Arthur as he entered the bedroom.
"Why don't you go get a vase, fill it with some water and put the flower in it? It doesn't look like it has bloomed yet, aru," Yao suggested to Hong Kong.
"Oh yeah – good idea!" Hong Kong scurried off to look for a vase.
Arthur grinned at Yao and walked towards him. "You feeling any better?"
Yao nodded, patting the side of the bed and indicated to Arthur that he wanted him to sit there. "Much better – I slept most of the day, so I think that helped, aru."
Arthur held Yao's face in his hands and observed the Asian man carefully. He DID look a lot better. "That's good to know. You up for eating anything tonight?"
Yao smiled. "I'm up for anything – I'm starving!"
By night-time, Yao was completely better. It seemed that getting a proper meal into his system was the solution to his problem – his body just needed the right nutrients.
That night, Arthur and Hong Kong were playing together. They were playing some sort of reporter game where Hong Kong was a celebrity and Arthur was interviewing him.
"So… of all the places you've played in, where would you say is your favourite?" Arthur pretended to jot some notes down in his notebook.
Hong Kong looked thoughtful. "My room," he replied.
"Hm, I see…" Arthur nodded. "Who is your favourite friend to play with?"
This time, the answer was immediate. "Emil!"
Arthur tried to recall who this Emil was. "You mean the little boy with grey hair and always carries a stuffed puffin around?"
"Yeah – he's quiet, but I like him," said Hong Kong bashfully. There was a pink tinge in his cheeks.
"Okay…" Arthur nodded in understanding. "Next question – have you ever seen daddy Yao kiss the cable man?"
At that moment, Yao walked out of the kitchen. "Arthur!" he cried, blushing. "What sort of question is that, aru?"
"Shh," Arthur held up his hand. "I want to hear what he says."
Hong Kong stole a glance at Yao before smiling cheekily and shaking his head. "I've only ever seen daddy kiss you," he said. "And me, of course."
"Really, now?" Arthur stole a cunning glance at Yao.
"Okay, that's enough!" Yao announced. His cheeks were flushed. "Hong, time for bed – go and brush your teeth, and I'll read you your bedtime story, aru."
Hong Kong pouted, but nodded anyway and made his way upstairs.
"So…" Arthur grinned and got up from his seat. He made his way towards Yao and wrapped his arms around Yao's waist. "I'm the only one you've ever kissed?"
Yao looked away, blushing. "In the romantic sense, aru," he grumbled softly.
Arthur smirked and pecked Yao lightly on the lips.
"By the way," Yao began, as he brushed a strand of stray hair from Arthur's face. "Thanks for taking care of me while I was sick."
"My pleasure," replied Arthur. "Besides, you've been doing so much around the house, it's a wonder you hadn't gotten sick sooner."
Yao smiled shyly. "I'm used to it, aru. I mean, I did it all the time when I was younger and taking care of my brother."
"Well," Arthur began cockily. "You're not as strong as you used to be."
Yao glared at him. "You take that back, Arthur Kirkland."
Arthur laughed and buried his face into Yao's hair. "I'm sorry to say that, but it's true. But I'll never stop loving you."
Yao could feel his anger at Arthur's previous remark melt at that confession. "I'll forgive you – just as long as you mean it, aru."
"Want me to prove it?" Arthur wagged his eyebrows suggestively at Yao.
Yao laughed. "You horny bastard," he chided. "Maybe later – I'll go and read Hong his bedtime story first."
