"I'm dying," Cloud moaned into his pillow, curling up more tightly under the covers.
"You are not dying." Sephiroth sighed from nearby.
"You don't know," Cloud replied sourly, his words muffled in the pillow. "I could be. Maybe I've got some mysterious disease and it's killing me, and then you'll be so sorry your last words were 'you're not dying.' Jerk."
"You," Sephiroth said—Cloud felt him press a kiss to his mop of unruly hair before speaking again—"are an unspeakable drama queen when you are sick."
"Don't kiss me!" Cloud objected loudly, sending himself into a coughing fit with the proclamation. He grabbed the other pillow off the bed and flung it lazily in Sephiroth's direction, trying to catch the breath to speak again. "You'll get sick too!"
"Please," Sephiroth scoffed. He didn't sound like he'd received Cloud's vicious pillow attack. "I have only been sick once, and it was after a month and a half in the pouring rain of Wutai's monsoon season with no way to warm up and nothing to eat. I am reasonably certain I can handle your head-cold."
"It's not a head-cold," Cloud muttered, glaring at Sephiroth. "It's probably pneumonia. Stop trying to one-up me. I feel awful."
"I know you do," Sephiroth replied. "I am not trying to one-up you. I am ensuring you know what, exactly, it takes to get me sick. The answer is not this." He bent down and pressed a kiss to Cloud's forehead.
"Uugh, don't," Cloud groaned, turning his face into the pillow again. "I'm disgusting."
"You are not," Sephiroth sighed, resting his hands on Cloud's back lightly. "You're just a little ill. When have I ever minded you being a little sweaty?"
"Remember when we talked about innuendo?" Cloud asked, his voice muffled by the pillow, "And when it's appropriate? Not the time."
"Sorry," Sephiroth replied easily, running a hand over Cloud's head. "You are warm. Your fever's gotten worse. I'll get a cool cloth for you. Zack said it would help."
"Don' go." Cloud muttered, burrowing his face deeper in the pillow.
"I'll come right back," Sephiroth chided from behind him, his hand sliding down Cloud's spine with familiar affection.
"But I might die while you're gone, and you'll miss my last words," Cloud whined.
"Don't be ridiculous," Sephiroth replied. Cloud heard him bend down—felt his soft lips press hard against the back of his neck. He shuddered at the firm kiss, closing his eyes tightly. "I would never permit you to die before me."
Cloud didn't have the words to object to that statement. He didn't object when Sephiroth left the room. He lay still, waiting for him to return—listening for the soft rhythm of Sephiroth's boots on the floor.
"There," Sephiroth said softly as he returned, "you are still breathing, aren't you."
"Just barely," Cloud responded. The words came out in a wheeze, and he curled up, turning his face out of the pillow as he coughed and gasped for breath. Sephiroth's hand rested on his chest as he coughed, his lover sitting next to him as Cloud's eyes teared from pain and he felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment at being unable to stop the coughing fit.
"Relax," Sephiroth whispered. "Let it pass in its own time. I have you."
Cloud closed his eyes, and almost sullenly followed the advice. He knew Sephiroth was right. He hated being this weak in front of the other man. Hated showing how very normal and average he was. He stopped fighting the coughing fit, letting Sephiroth's wide, warm hand on his chest comfort and relax him.
"There," Sephiroth whispered as Cloud caught his breath. "You see? You're strong enough without having to fight for it."
"I'm sorry," Cloud moaned, turning towards Sephiroth and hiding his face against the man's thigh. "I didn't mean for you to have to play nurse..."
"Don't be silly," Sephiroth chided, carefully resting a cold cloth on the back of Cloud's neck. He shuddered at the cold contact, but didn't complain this time. "If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be."
"I feel cold," Cloud whispered sorrowfully.
"You're burning up," Sephiroth corrected.
"Hold me anyway?" Cloud asked, looking up at him out of teary eyes. He could feel his lower lip trembling, and cursed silently at himself. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry in front of Sephiroth.
"If that's all," Sephiroth said softly, shifting away from the hold Cloud had taken on his thigh, "then you should have said so earlier."
Cloud let out a breath of relief as Sephiroth shifted and slid into bed beside him. He curled against his always-warm lover, hiding against him. He was desperately glad that this wasn't the snotty sort of sickness. He would never be able to touch Sephiroth for fear of dirtying his perfection. He didn't think he could handle the mortification of sneezing against his chest.
"There," Sephiroth whispered as he wrapped his arms behind Cloud's back, drawing him close so that Cloud's head was pillowed on his bicep. "Better?"
Cloud hummed in agreement, closing his eyes. He loved the feel of Sephiroth's muscles under his cheek, no matter which one he was pillowed against. There was something so utterly reassuring in how firm and relaxed they were.
"You're sure I won't get you sick?" he mumbled softly.
"I'm sure," Sephiroth replied, shifting just a little to press a kiss to Cloud's nose. "Now go to sleep."
Cloud gave him a tired smile, letting himself drift away from aching lungs and the pervasive soreness that had infused his body. Sleep was good. Sleep would definitely help.
And if Sephiroth was there, he was pretty sure he could sleep. After all, it was an order.
Sephiroth slipped out of bed once he was sure Cloud was firmly out. He loved his blond cadet, but he had lied a little. Cloud was uncomfortably sticky with sweat, and very warm. Sephiroth would comfort him and hold him while he was awake, but while Cloud was unaware, he wanted a shower. He tried not to think about how similarly Hojo seemed to feel from from what he said after the uglier experiments.
The shower was fast and cold. He was secure in Cloud's well being for the moment, but he wanted to keep an eye on him. It felt good to be clean, though. He'd taken the time off work to ensure that Cloud remained hydrated and was not as bad as he complained to be, and that meant there had been a lot of time to pick up the scent of Cloud's sickness.
He towelled himself off and stepped into the doorway of Cloud's room, checking on him. The young man was drooling into his pillow, curled up miserably under the covers. Sephiroth walked over to drop a brief touch to Cloud's hair, giving it a soft ruffle, then went to make himself tea. He had difficulty eating and drinking while covered in the smell of sickness. He would catch up while he could.
He was halfway through his mug of tea when the first gasp of terror reached him. The tea cup broke on the floor behind him as he sprinted to Cloud's room, the desire to be at his side and assure him overwhelming his natural tidiness. He stopped in the doorway. Cloud was pressed against the headboard, staring into the corner of the room. His brow was beaded with sweat, and his face was flushed, but only at the centers of his cheeks. The rest of his skin looked pale and sickly
"Don't," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Stay back."
"Cloud?" Sephiroth asked softly, walking over to the bed slowly.
"Seph," Cloud whispered. "Tell Angeal to go away. He's in the light socket and he won't go away..."
Sephiroth frowned. He touched his hand to Cloud's forehead. It was burning.
"It's just a dream," Sephiroth assured, though his mind supplied another definition. 'Hallucination.' Cloud was getting worse.
The cadet clung to him until he fell asleep again. Only Sephiroth wasn't sure he was asleep. There was a dangerously uncertain air of unconsciousness about him. He was breathing heavier, a soft wheeze and catch to the sound. Sephiroth stared down at him, uncertain. He'd seen sick men before. He'd heard dying men before. Cloud did not sound like he was dying—it was not the ugly rasping gurgle of a man's last breaths—but he did not sound well. And he did not sound merely 'sick.' Sephiroth shivered, then frowned at his body's own response. He found himself stroking Cloud's face, uncertain of how else to help him.
Cloud got hotter. Sephiroth set him down gently to retrieve the thermometer. He roused Cloud enough to coax him into letting his temperature be taken. Cloud's striking blue eyes were glassy and unfocused. His temperature had reached 39.4. Any higher and Sephiroth would carry him down to medical himself. Only a degree or two higher and Cloud's very physiology would be at risk from the fever.
He didn't notice, at first, the twisting sickness in his stomach. For a moment, he wondered if the tea he'd drunken was disagreeing with him. Then he realized that the uncommon sensation was fear. Fear so bone-deep that he could taste it.
'You'll be so sorry your last words were 'you're not dying.' Jerk.' Cloud had muttered only earlier that evening. Sephiroth tried to put the thought out of his mind, shaking his head physically in an attempt to dislodge it. Every piece of scientific information he had suggested that Cloud was not dying. That this was a flu. That Cloud's fever would break and he would wake up and be himself again.
"Please," Sephiroth whispered, brushing fingertips hard with callouses down Cloud's perfect, pale cheek. "Please be alright."
He hovered sleepless at Cloud's side. Cloud slept fitfully, often waking halfway with murmurs of distress. Sephiroth soothed him and wiped cool cloths over his sweat stained face. The fear in his stomach didn't settle. Time inched by, and Cloud's fever did not break. Every hour Sephiroth roused his lover just long enough to take his temperature. It hovered just above 39 degrees, changing only by miniscule decimal points, up and down.
Sometimes Cloud jerked awake as though from a nightmare. He thrashed weakly in the sheets, sweat-stained and terrified. Sephiroth caught his arms as carefully as he could, keeping him from harming himself, and spoke softly to him. Cloud's panic rarely faded quickly. He never said anything to Sephiroth—never even seemed to fully recognize that it was him. He always faded back into sleep with that look of fear and confusion still on his face.
By three in the morning, the sheets were soaked with his lover's sweat. Sephiroth lifted him carefully out of bed, settling him on the sofa for a moment while he changed the linens. Cloud stirred and gave a soft groan, but didn't wake. Sephiroth roused him as best he could and coaxed him into drinking a little of the disgusting sports drink Zack had recommended when Cloud first got ill. The blond was disoriented, but he followed orders, drinking as much as he could before he exhausted his limited stores of energy. It was barely more than a sip.
Sephiroth carried Cloud back to bed and tucked him in, sitting at his side and stroking his blond lover's hair. Anxiety kept his mind whirling. He had work at eight am. He would not have slept. He would have to do another demonstration. He could cover enough to fool the president, but Hojo would know. He always knew. He should be asleep. He should call Zack in and go to sleep.
But he could not do it. He could not tear his eyes away from Cloud's pale face. His sweet Cloud, who always smiled so happily when he saw him, even if it was in professional settings. More than once his lover's delighted face had been chased away by one of shock and embarrassment as he remembered himself and saluted. It took everything Sephiroth had in the way of restraint to keep from smiling back.
"What are you doing to me," He whispered, brushing his fingers through Cloud's hair again.
An hour later, he roused Cloud to take his temperature. 39.7 this time. But the cadet didn't let go and fall back asleep. He grabbed one of Sephiroth's hands and curled up, clinging to it. Sephiroth didn't argue. He settled in close so Cloud could hold on easily, and kept his other hand on Cloud's forehead, waiting for his temperature to change.
Finally, at five in the morning, Cloud started to shiver. Sephiroth soothed him at first, worried it was another symptom, but when he checked Cloud's temperature, he found it down to 38. His lover's fever had finally broken.
When he roused Cloud next, he was coherent. He blinked blearily at Sephiroth, his stunning eyes crusty with dried tears, and gave a massive yawn.
"Seph?" He murmured, his voice dry and raspy.
Sephiroth couldn't respond. His mouth had gone dry with relief. His chest tightened, as though to restrain his thundering heartbeat. He leaned forward, pulling Cloud into a careful hug. His lover's arms looped around him after a moment of confusion, giving him what Sephiroth supposed was supposed to be a squeeze.
"I'm sorry," Sephiroth whispered. "For teasing."
"What?" asked Cloud blearily, his voice dry and sounding painful in his throat.
"Lay back," Sephiroth murmured, carefully lowering Cloud from their hug. "I'll bring you something to drink."
Cloud drank thirstily this time, and the knot in Sephiroth's stomach loosened. His fear subsided as Cloud let out a slow breath, wiping a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes. Sephiroth let out a slow breath. He stared at Cloud, breathing in slowly before releasing the last of his tension. He stroked his fingers down Cloud's cheek.
"I'm all sticky," Cloud murmured wearily, shifting uncomfortably in bed. He still sounded half- asleep.
"You were sweating a lot," Sephiroth murmured. "I don't think my clothes will fit you, but I have a shirt you can sleep in."
"Nn," Cloud murmured, rubbing blearily at his eyes again. "Can I?"
Sephiroth just gave him a soft kiss and pulled a shirt out of his drawer, draping it over Cloud's lap. "Go ahead and change. I'll fix you some toast and tea."
"You should be in bed," Cloud murmured, a worried frown crossing his lips.
"Stop worrying about your commanding officers," Sephiroth instructed with a fond teasing note, dropping a kiss to his lover's forehead with the words.
Cloud gave him a weary, dimpled smile in response.
Sephiroth returned with tea and toast. He nearly dropped both when he caught sight of little Cloud. The blond was swathed in one of his shirts. It looked enormous on him. He was trying clumsily to roll up the sleeves past his hands when Sephiroth walked in, still looking dazed and flushed. He gave a little sniffle and looked up, noticing Sephiroth's attention. His blue eyes were lively and sparkling again. Sephiroth felt himself melt at the very sight of them.
"I'm sorry," Cloud whispered. "I should have stayed at the barracks. I didn't mean to keep you up..." He teared up as he spoke, and Sephiroth shook his head, walking over swiftly and touching his fingers to Cloud's cheek, catching a tear lightly before it could fall.
"Don't," he said softly. "I would have it no other way that that you come to me when you are in danger. Do not feel guilt for doing exactly what I have asked of you. I am only glad that you are safe now. I have functioned perfectly well on less sleep. So no worrying. Understood?"
"Yes sir," Cloud murmured, lifting his hand to wrap gently around Sephiroth's wrist, giving him a sleepy half-smile.
"That's my Cloud," Sephiroth said, the relief he felt accidentally slipping through into his words.
"I'm still so tired," Cloud whispered. "I feel awful..."
"I know," Sephiroth said, stifling a yawn.
"You really stayed up all night, didn't you?" Cloud whispered, sniffling again. "You still have some time before you have to go... I can move to the couch, let you get some sleep..."
"No," Sephiroth murmured. "Stay. If it will make you feel better, I will rest with you a while."
"Will it make you feel better?" Cloud asked wearily.
"Yes," Sephiroth whispered after a moment. "If nothing else, being with you a while now that you are feeling better."
"Then c'mere," Cloud murmured, shifting a little out of Seph's way, frowning quietly to himself. "Hn... Just to warn you, my skin is still really sensitive," He muttered grumpily.
"I'll be gentle," Sephiroth promised, unable to help the sexual purr his voice took on. Cloud shivered and hit him lightly.
"No taunting," The cadet grumbled, snuggling in at Sephiroth's side.
Sephiroth gave a small smile and wrapped Cloud in his arms, letting out a quiet breath as he felt the cooler skin under his touch. Sephiroth's shirt was huge on Cloud, covering him down to mid thigh. Sephiroth stroked his fingers lightly over the skin, contemplating.
"You will have to wear my shirts to bed more often when you are feeling better," He instructed wearily.
"Yes sir." Cloud responded, nuzzling against his chest.
"Get some rest, cadet."
Sephiroth slept well through his internal alarm's usual waking point. was three hours late to work. He didn't care in the slightest.