Author Note: Jorian drabbles. What's more to say?
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Almost Human, characters, etc.
January
John gave a loud, unrestrained sneeze. He was miserable, and it was just the beginning of a new year. Groaning, John turned over to grab the thermometer on his night stand. He stuck it into his mouth, then waited impatiently before it beeped.
"Core temperature: One-hundred-one-point three degrees."
He pulled the covers over his head and sniffled. His head was killing him, but he didn't want to crawl from his warm bed to find the medicine. He wasn't sure he even had any. He just needed to sleep it off, and tomorrow he'd be back on his -
KNOCK-KNOCK!
John groaned again. "Go away!" His voice cracked pathetically, and he coughed. The knocker remained persistent, enough to seem urgent. In a violent huff, John threw the covers aside and stood, shivering immediately as he stomped to the screen for the hallway camera; it was Dorian and Rudy. Well, they won't go away until you make them, he thought.
Once greeted, Dorian smiled brightly. "John, you're awake. May we...?" He trailed off expectantly. John waved them in, but only Dorian entered. Rudy smiled apologetically and shook his head.
"Sorry, John - I can't stay. Everything is there," he motioned to the duffel John hadn't noticed before, slung over Dorian's shoulder, "so, I'll see you in a few days." Without permission, he boldly closed the door behind them.
Dorian kept his smile. "I know it's unexpected, but Rudy figured I could keep an eye on you until you felt better. He was worried about you being alone."
"What? Bring him back here, and I'll tell him just where he can put his worry - "
"John Kennex," the DRN replied, placing a finger over John's lips. He moved closer, nearly pinning John against the wall. "You're not going to deny help from a good friend, are you?"
John didn't respond. They were more than good friends, but only just. Their relationship was complicated, but it had become closer. "Fine. What's in the bag?"
"All in good time. Go lie down, and I'll be there in a while. You like vegetable soup, right?"
John winced. "Not from a can."
Dorian smiled. "I know."
John was beside himself with curiosity by the time Dorian walked into his room. A fantastic, warm aroma followed him, and in his arms he carried a tray. On it was the soup - definitely homemade - and orange juice. "Made with love, so eat all of it."
John raised a playful eyebrow. "What if I don't? I might throw up."
Dorian carefully set down the tray over John's lap, and sat close to him on the bed. He placed a soft kiss on John's cheek, smiling. "You won't. I can feed you myself, if you'd like."
John blushed, adding more color to his already red face. "No, I got it, thanks." He took his first bite, finding it a perfect temperature. He took each spoonful slowly, but before long he was finished. He sipped at his orange juice, then decided he'd save it for later; He was starting to feel drowsy again. Dorian was understanding, and moved the tray aside. He didn't leave, though, and as John settled under the covers, Dorian ran a hand over his shoulder.
John sighed tiredly. "Thanks, man..."
"I hope you feel better soon," he whispered, then leaned down to kiss John's forehead.