You felt as if your head was filled with diesel covered wool. Tissues were strewn across your bedside cabinet, along with some cough syrup, a tissue box and a glass of water for your aching throat. You reached for a clean tissue, quickly blowing your nose. Flopping back on the covers, you blinked blearily around the messy, stuffy room. You were ill, missing human interaction. Sighing, you pushed back into the covers, to warm yourself up. Loud footsteps make your ears perk up. Could it be...?

You ex- Boyfriend, Al Jones, came in, hands stuffed into his pockets. You gave a soft groan. Oh no.

"Hey, Doll." Al flopped down on your duvet covers. His reddish-bronze hair dipped into his angry red eyes, his usual black sunglasses balanced on his head.

"Hi." You answered curtly.

A soft smirk raced up his handsome features as he leaned towards you.

"Why so frigid, Doll face?" Al playfully flicked your nose.

You batted his hand away, scowling. Your heart ached at the sight of you Ex, mainly because, no matter how much you denied it, you still adored his stupid antics. You were almost in love with him, even if he didn't feel anything like love.

"Because the last time we met, you got in a fight with Vincent because he flirted with me." You snapped. You remembered that evening so well.

It was a week after you guys broke you and you were watching Oliver sneakingly but human fingernails into Al's food (He had always preferred you to Al, and the fact that he hurt you made him seek revenge) when Vincent strode up to you. His dirty blond hair was held back by a rubber band and a cigarette between his index and middle finger. You knew he always had a slight crush on you ever since you first met in College. He started to chat to you, not flirty but just casual. But all the way during dinner, he moved closes to you and started to drop in flirtatious one-liners. You hadn't noticed it, but Al had been watching, gritting his teeth and gripping his knife too hard. He had enough when Vincent had put his hand on your thigh and leaned in. He stood up and punched him squarely in the face.

"Well, he shouldn't have been intruding on my territory." Al smirked, leaning in.

A surge of anger went through you. You slapped his tanned cheek, making him start in surprise.

"I am not your territory!" You snapped.

Al roughly cupped your jaw.

"Maybe."

You slapped his hand away again. You opened your mouth to unleash a torrent of abuse but before you could, you coughed violently, covering your mouth. You propped yourself up, coughing away. To your utmost surprise, Al helped you, setting you up against the pillows and patting your back.

"Thanks." You whispered, voice hoarse.

"Anything for you, Doll." Al said dismissively.

A idea sprung to your mind and you tried to hide a devious smirk. Unluckily, Al spotted it.

"Why the sexy smirk?" Al asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Nothing." You put on your most innocent face. "Just... You said you'd do anything for me.."

You could see the gears in Al's head turning. With his growing smirk, you knew he thought you were going to ask him to screw you. Oh, the poor guy.

"Yeah, anything, babe." Al purred.

"Sing me Soft Kitty."

Al stared at you, spluttering. His face went a bright red then an even brighter red, then a barbie pink.

"S-Soft Kitty?!"Al spluttered, disbelieve written on his arrogant face.

"Yeah..."

"No fucking way!" Al snapped.

"Well." You gave a convincing sigh." Vincent would of done it for me."

That irked him. Al's cheek twitched, gripping his Nirvana shirt. An even better idea sprung to mind.

"And you know your brother?"

"You. And. Mattie? You guys went..went out for 2 years." Al snarled through gritted teeth.

"Yeah. Whenever I was sick, he sung it." You gave a mock whine. Snuggling down, you could see Al about to ram his first through a wall. "And Oliver would be more than happy to-"

"FUCK! FINE! I'll sing the fucking song!" Al growled. "Move your ass."

Hastily, you scooted over as Al flopped down next to you, scowling. You giggled at his pissed off expression. Then he began to mumble.

"Soft Kitty...Warm Kitty..." He growled. "Liiittle ball of fucking fur. Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, fucking purr purr purr."

You laughed.

"Thanks Al." You giggled, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Al shrugged and gave you a long look. He leaned in and kisses you, hands wrapping around your waist. You squeaked in surprise but kissed him back. You only broke away when you felt his hand slipping down your pajama shorts.

"Uh...Al?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm still sick."

"Gah... Okay." Al muttered, disappointed. Then a horny smirk raced up his face. "But that can't mean I can't play with these."

He promptly pulled your shirt up.

~Fin