A.N: I don't own anything
The soup was a little hot, steam curling up from the broth and warming his face. He set it on the table smiling down at his little patient cocooned in five blankets, red faced and pouting. "How you feeling Cloud?"
The blond sniffed heavily, blue, puffy eyes narrowed into slits. "I can't feel my fucking face, there's mucus in the back of my throat while my insides are trying their damn hardest to be on my outsides. But I wouldn't know Zack, I'm not a doctor." He trembled in the blankets, a pitiful whine before he was back to sulking like an indignant bird. Poor little Cloudy, Zack thought as he stirred the soup. It was a general consensus that whenever the blond showed any sign of sickness he immediately be brought to Zack's apartment for love and care.
Well, okay, not love and care. Cloud was nearly unbearable with the slightest change in his sinuses, he was terrifying with allergies, threatening to burn every plant whenever he went on a mission, and absolutely horrible when he had a cold that even the most patient of nurses could hardly deal with him.
"Open wide!" He grinned, scooping some up with the spoon. "Choo-choo!"
"Fuck you-" He sputtered, glaring up at Zack who shrugged when he pulled away the spoon he shoved into Cloud's mouth. He smacked his lips, eye darting up. "I can't taste shit."
"That's why it tastes like shit." He clicked his tongue. "And why they leftover mess slop gets sent to the infirmary. You guys can't taste anything, so you can't complain."
"Do they want us to die?"
Zack laughed at his horrified expression, sliding the spoon into Cloud's gaping mouth. "Maybe, I'm pretty sure some of the insurance claims go to the fat man himself." He fed Cloud another spoonful when he tried to reply.
"Would you stop that?" The blond was still glowering at him, even after half a bowl of canned soup that Zack so graciously cooked in his microwave. Well tried to. He forgot to dump it out of the can and apparently aluminum really does explode in microwaves. Now his eyes were drooping, popping open every so often.
"You can sleep y'know." He smoothed out the blankets, fluffing the pillows under his soft crown of spiky hair. "I'll be here."
"That's what I'm worried about... You dying my underwear pink or somethin'... while 'm sleepin'."
"Good idea Cloud, glad you mentioned it."
"Zack."
"Yeah?"
"Fuck you." Cloud curled up into a little ball safe inside his cocoon, smiling and slumbering away. Zack cleaned up- or tried to. It's really hard to clean scorch marks off walls. Glancing down at his friend occasionally. It didn't matter Cloud was nearly unbearable with the slightest change in his sinuses, he was terrifying with allergies, threatening to burn every plant whenever he went on a mission, and absolutely horrible when he had a cold that even the most patient of nurses could hardly deal with him.
Zack was there to give him love and care.