A/N: This kind of story isn't very common- at least, not from what i've read- and I'm trying to raise awareness. Review and Tell me what you think.
Warning: Slash. Jasper/Seth. Lemons.
Disclaimer: I Own Nothing. :(
1. Waiting Room Minx.
I vomit all over his shoes. His new, very pricey, brown leather boots that he had boasted about all morning. Now covered in my own grey slush. I groan and stand up, only to realize I wasn't ready for that yet and remained bent over, one hand on my stomach. He is going to kill me.
"Jasper!" He starts, and I cringe as I prepare for the onslaught. But it never comes.
One small hand carts through my hair soothingly. He whispers words of comfort, petting my back in circles and treating me like I hadn't just brought to life one of his worst nightmares.
It's amazing how in two years he never fails to surprise me- my little minx. Sometimes, I feel so lucky to have him, it makes my chest expand and my heart beat furiously, and I walk around on cloud nine, in my own bubble. Some people call it sickening, others call it sweet.
I love him so much. And the fact he cared about my health over his boots- which, by the way, was something that deserved the front page in my world- only increased that love.
I'm pretty sure I have food poisoning. Either that or I'm pregnant, and considering I'm a twenty two year old male, I'm hoping that wasn't the case. Though it would explain why I've been vomiting so much lately. Nearly twice a day now.
"Poor Jazzy!" Seth murmurs, his cool palm pleasant on my sweaty forehead. "Let's get you home."
I smile gratefully, not wanting to do anything more than that, and allow him to guide me to the car, making sure to roll the windows right down. He talks to me as we drive, obviously trying to distract me. I concentrate on his mouth, running and flapping a million times a minute. He looks really good today- all tight black pants, black tight shirt, and white leather jacket. And the boots. Which I've completely destroyed.
"Baby, I think you need a doctor." Seth murmurs, looking concerned.
I shrug, and it hurts my neck. "I'm fine." My throat sounds raspy.
Seth frowns, and that famous cute little dent forms between his brows. He eyes me for a moment, seemingly debating something in his head. When I sneeze and groan, my hand clutching my head as it begins to throb, he seems decided and makes a sharp left, the movement not at all agreeing with my tender stomach.
"Where are we going?"
"Hospital."
"No, Seth-"
"I don't want to hear it, Mister. You are going to the hospital and seeing a doctor. I'm not giving you a choice here." My bossy little minx pursed his lips, daring me to argue further. I knew when not to cross the line.
"Okay," I say. Besides, it seems I was growing more ill by the second.
Seth nods in approval, and like a maniac on a mission, he speeds towards the general hospital. We park in the emergency carpark. I try and tell him this unneccasary and there are far more severe emergencies than mine but he gives me that look.
A look that spoke of no more arguing or I'll suffer the consequences.
We walk inside, Seth tugging on my hand like a leash, but had to pause at the line in front of the reception where a young mother was dealing with a rashy toddler with a wet cough. Seth taps his foot impatiently, increasing tempo when I groan quietly. It feels like I'm on fire.
"What could be taking so long?" My minx sighs, a little too loudly. "If I were bleeding internally right now, I'd be dead."
"They're going fast as they can," I say weakly.
"Not fast enough…" Seth grabs my hand and swings it between us, a look of adorable frustration on his face. I survery the room quietly and see a man wrestling a feverish child, a woman sniffling into a tissue, a young man with a bleeding eyebrow.
"I really shouldn't be here…"
Seth squeezes my hand, hard, and I yelp loudly. A young nurse appears on the side of the desk, smiling at me. "Finally," Seth huffs and drags us over. "Not getting any younger."
"How can I help you, today?" The nurse, Tanya, her name tag reads, asks. She smiles pleasantly, but it falters as my little minx opens his mouth.
"My boyfriend's being throwing up all week. Two times a day, sometime's three. He's skipping meals, losing weight, constantly tired. His head hurts and…" he glances over me, ignoring my gaped-mouth expression. "…and his joints ache."
Tanya blinks, typing something into the computer. I continue to gap, but when my stomach sees that as an opening, I quickly clench it shut. I can't believe Seth just did that- clearly, he's been more observant than I gave him credit for. I mean, I knew he'd been concerned over these last couple of days, but not this much.
"Any skin inflammations?"
"Nope." Seth answers quickly.
Tanya looks skepical, as if not believing him. Seth rolls his eyes, plucking his hands on his slim hips. "Honey," he starts, "if my gorgous boyfriend had a rash anywhere, I would have found it last night, or this morning, or even a half hour ago."
"Seth!" I gasp.
Tanya's eyes go wide and she hurriedly types away, swallowing loudly. I pray to god she wasn't noting the kind of private vigorous sex life that Seth had just made very public.
Her voice is a little weaker as she asks more questions, mainly about my last name and current address. I answer the best I could, until the moment I am overwelhmed with another wave of nausea and run to the nearest trash can.
"You have got to be kidding me!" I hear Seth exclaim, and drag myself over before he makes too much of a scene.
"I'm sorry. A doctor will see you soon."
My little minx was about to protest, loudly, so I clamp his mouth with my sleeve and lead him over to the waiting room, using my larger body mass to control him as he thrashes. Eventually, he bites down, not hard enough to draw blood, but still enough to hurt.
"Ouch," I pout, and slump in the chair. "I'm sick. You're supposed to be nice to me."
"They want us to wait, Jasper. Wait! What if it is something serious? Something that could stop your heart in a few minutes? What if…"
I take him in my arms, careful not to breath on him, and attempt to hold him still and quiet. He struggles for a little bit before giving in and moulding into my embrace. I rest my chin on his beautiful head.
"I'm going to be fine, baby. I always am. Just food poisoning…"
"If it were food poisoning, I would have too."
"Maybe just a bug then," I suggest.
I feel him shake his head against my chest. "If it were a virus, you would have passed to me by now. Especially today at lunch. We were hardly sanitary."
I suppress a groan as I remember. We went out to a cute little bistro that we found a few weeks beforehand, ate some delicious food, fed each other sweetly, and then fucked like animals against the bathroom sink. I lick my lips and smile, and I feel Seth humming pleasantly under his breath.
"Best lunch ever," I rasp.
He stiffens and leans back, looking me in the eye. "Are you getting worse?"
"I…well…"
Too late. Seth was already prancing to the reception, his hips swaying deliciously, ready to give the poor nurses a piece of his mind. My crazy little minx.
"The doctor will see you now," Tanya announces in a wavering voice.
Seth grins triumphantly, looking exceedingly pleased with himself, and holds my hand as we follow the nurse into the wards. We reach examine room number four, and I sit up on the bed, feeling quite gross.
"Dr. Cullen will be here, shortly." Tanya flees, and I turn my accusing eye to my boyfriend.
"What, exactly, did you do to her?"
"This and that," Seth says with a wave of his hand. "It worked, didn't it? The quicker we get this done, the quicker we can get home in time for 'The Bold and The Beautiful'."
I sigh. My neck hurts, my head throbs, and I've thrown up so much, all I can possibly bring up now is bile. I truly felt like I was dying.
"Seth," I moan, and he crosses the room in two strides, running his fingers through my fringe, flattening it to my forehead.
"Shh.." he murmurs. "It'll all be over soon."
"Everything hurts." I whimper. I know I sound like a two year old, but that's sorta how I felt- small, weak, and vunerable.
Seth kisses my forehead, not caring that I was all sweaty and stinky, and stands between my legs, soothing me the best he could. He didn't take notice when the doctor came in, completely absorbed in making me feel better.
God, how I love him…
Someone clears their throat and we both look up. Two men stand in the doorway, both alike in stance and body shape, yet with very different characteristics. The older one has almost bleached white hair, though I knew it was real, and graceful pouty features with a melting smile. Next to him, the other man has a head of funny bronze that stuck up in all directions, while his face was very angular and sharp. All in all, both very handsome.
"Sorry to interrupt," says blondie, stepping forward with a clipboard, looking all nice and friendly. "I'm doctor Cullen, this…" he gestures to copper head "…is my son, Edward. He's an intern and will be observing today's examination with your consent."
I nod, and the jerky movement makes me flinch. Ouch.
Dr. Cullen steps forward, and Seth moves to my side, frowning. He is watching me carefully. Dr. Cullen places his hand on my forehead, clicking his tongue, than to my wrist to monitor my pulse. We go over my symptoms, and through this Edward doesn't say a word. Just watches.
"I may have to take a blood sample," Dr. Cullen says. "You have a very high fever, and your glands are severely swollen."
"Just make me better," I smile weakly. Dr. Cullen also smiles and turns to fiddle with a few boxes behind him, slapping on some latex gloves and pinching the end of a syringe, removing the cover.
"Are you squeamish?" He asks me, and I shake my head. Seth, however, is like a criminal in spotlight and squirms so his face is against my shoulder and he can't see. It is over quickly and Dr. Cullen takes the vial of my blood away. When he leaves the room to take it to be tested, I expect Edward to follow.
He doesn't.
He stands with his arms crossed, a small smirk on his face. Seth sees this and cocks his head unabashedly to the side, like a curious adorable puppy that I wanted to kiss all over.
When it becomes clear Edward isn't going to say anything, Seth turns and kisses my chin, as I move away at the last second. I don't want to infect him. He pouts and huffs like a toddler, forcefully grabbing my face and shoving his tongue deep in my throat. I think I hear a velvet chuckle coming from the corner.
When Dr. Cullen returns, he prescribes me some meds to help with the nausea and aches, and tells us he will contact me the results in a couple of days. I thank him profusely and we leave, as fate seems to have it, on perfect time to catch The Bold and The Beautiful.
The call comes three days later as we were stepping from the shower, having caught the end of my ringtone. I race downstairs in only a towel, while Seth playfully saunters after me, trying to snatch away "that wretched cloth" from my hips. I slide against the kitchen tiles with my wet feet but catch myself at the last minute.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Whitlock?"
I notice his grave tone, and immediately frown. "Yes?"
"I'm afraid we've uncovered some bad news. If you could just come in as soon as possible, say, this afternoon?"
Seth walks into the kitchen blissfully naked, purposely rubbing up against me as he passes. I clear my throat and try to concentrate- believe me, it's hard! (no pun intended).
"Is it s-serious?" I stammer.
Seth pauses and whirls to me, eyes narrowing. I chew my lip when Dr. Cullen hesitates, and it is then I know that is very serious indeed.
"This is a discussion I think best suited face-to-face." I feel the color from my own face drain away, and I meekly say a goodbye before dropping the phone to the floor with a clatter.
"Baby, what is it?"
"I don't know."
When I recall the conversation with Seth, my little minx was back in action, throwing clothes around, tipping furniture trying to find the car keys, practically carrying me from the front door, half-dressed. We speed recklessly to the hospital; so recklessly, I have to point out that'd we probably die before we get there.
"Don't even talk about dying, Jazzy," Seth growls. "Just don't."
I zip my lips and remain quiet until we are in the same room as before, waiting anxiously for Dr. Cullen to appear. Seth is pacing, his hands carting through his dark hair before I trap him between my knees, my arm around his neck.
"Baby, calm down," I murmur. "Everything's fine. I'm sure its just a mistake or something. We'll sort it out."
"What exactly did he say to you? What words did he use?"
I start to explain- again!- when the man himself appears, and he is noticeably sadder than the last time we saw him. I swallow and my mouth is dry. Dr. Cullen sighs and steps forward, holding a single piece of paper between his hands.
"We've discovered signs of a virus in your blood. A severe one." The doctor hesitates, and he looks generally upset, and I can't breathe. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Whitlock," he says. "But you've tested positive for HIV."
I blanch and slap my hand over my mouth, containing my gasp, or vomit, or scream, or whatever decides to come up. I'm already shaking my head, barely registering when Seth goes limp in my arms, his head falling back.
"No," I whisper in denial. "No. I…that's impossible. I haven't…Seth is clean…I…"
"We will have to test Seth, but chances are it will have spread to him. I am sorry-"
"No!" I howl. This was some sick joke, some fuckin' cruel prank from the universe. I was clean. I…
…haven't been tested since James. My stomach curls and I vomit all on Seth's shoes. His nice shoes. His favourite shoes.
"No," I whisper again, faintly. "No."