He whines and presses his face into the pillow; even the faint sound makes his throat ache and his head throb that much worse. Why the hell he had to be the one who ended up sick first, he has no idea. He sort of banked on it being Drew or Wade, what with his absurd desire to hear their accents messed up by sniffling and sore throats, but no such luck yet. Instead, he ends up buried beneath three comforters and the curtains pulled, wishing he would just drop dead.
Sighing, he stretches a hand blindly toward the nightstand until he feels a Kleenex brush his fingers, then rips it out of the box so he can blow his nose. He feels like death warmed over and probably looks worse, but Wade and Drew have been nothing but perfect, doting boyfriends since he first got sick enough to require bed rest. He can even hear them now, talking in hushed voices as they walk down the hallway toward the bedroom; they both know about his headache and are doing their best to make sure it gets no worse. Yeah, plenty of reasons to love them.
The bedroom doors opens almost silently, and Heath peeks out from under the covers to see his two gorgeous men stepping into the room. Hard to believe they went from two to three and made it work, but Drew fits with them so naturally he's convinced they were made to come as a set instead of as a pair. He perks up despite his still-shitty mood and pushes the comforters off of him so he can sit up, bracing his back against the ridiculous amount of pillows behind him.
It's almost unfair they look so good when he feels so bad because the last thing on his mind is sex; hell, it's not even on the list because right now, that would cause so much unnecessary pain and discomfort. But it's still unfair. Wade makes faded jeans and tight t-shirts far more attractive and eye-catching than most men in the history of forever, and Drew is so going to hell for wearing skintight jeans when Heath is too sick to do anything about it. At least it's an improvement on his mood, and he'd rather be trapped in bed with the two of them than alone. Besides, the steaming bowl on the tray Wade is carrying is probably soup, and that will make his throat feel better for a while. Plus, it tastes better than fucking medicine.
"You look better, baby," Wade offers, and Heath just scowls at him until Drew laughs.
"He's right, though. Even if you don't feel better, you're looking better. Might be the rest." Drew sidles up to the side of the bed and brushes a kiss over his forehead, and Heath smiles slightly and leans into it. "We brought you some soup. Are you feeling up to eating?"
He nods and threads his fingers through the hair that slips over Drew's shoulder, leaning up to peck him on the cheek. "Yes. Thank you." It's scratchy and it hurts, but he gets the words out.
"Good. I worked my ass off making it." But Wade winks at him before settling the tray across his lap, then taking up position on his other side to kiss the side of his neck.
"Don't do that while I'm sick," Heath whines, pressing a hand to his throat at the pain it causes to voice the words. Gently, Wade lays another kiss on his throat, one meant to soothe and comfort, and he lets it go because he does feel a little better now.
Drew presses up against him, nuzzling his shoulder. "Shh, baby. Don't push yourself."
"Don't want to hurt yourself," Wade adds, and Heath rolls his eyes slightly but smiles just the same. "Go ahead and eat. Then you can take your medicine and lie back down."
Heath scoffs and shakes his head but starts eating anyway; the soup is almost too hot but it soothes his aching throat and tastes amazing even if his sense of taste is shot from the sickness. The bonus is that his men are curled up on either side of him, murmuring softly to him.
"I know you don't like the medicine." Drew smiles when Heath wrinkles his nose.
Wade chuckles, fingers combing Heath's sweaty hair back from his face before tracing the line of his jaw with so much care. "I wouldn't make you take it if I thought it wouldn't help."
"I know," Heath mutters, scowling when Drew laughs against his throat.
"I know it's not funny," Drew murmurs, "except it is. I'm sorry, sweetheart."
Wade shakes his head and moves closer until the sides of their bodies are pressed together, one strong arm winding around his shoulders. Though normally being this close would incite some very interesting responses from him, Heath is just glad to have Wade so close and the comforting weight of his arm around him. Right now, he just needs to feel better and this is working.
As soon as he finishes the soup, Drew straightens and takes the tray, setting it on the dresser up against the wall before disappearing into the bathroom to retrieve the medicine.
Heath tries not to whine and be childish about it, but truth is, if he could, he would bolt.
Still, he sucks it up and downs the medicine like a shot of whiskey, sputtering and coughing at the taste just the same, and thankfully Wade presses a glass of water into his hand.
"I know, I know. But it's helping. You know it is," he soothes while Heath downs the cold liquid.
He finishes the glass, which Drew yet again takes before flopping down in the bed with him, half-splaying across his body and pulling him close. It's actually a good thing because he's sort of freezing now and Drew is stunningly warm. Without a word, Heath presses up against him.
"Are you still cold?" Wade asks, resting a hand on his forehead, and Heath swats at his hand because they both know his skin is burning, not cold. It's the fever that has him so cold. "Hold on. Let me dig out the electric blanket and then—"
Heath shakes his head and simply holds out his free arm, making puppy eyes up at his boyfriend until Wade finally shuts up and just curls up closer to him, warm and strong and more of a comfort than just about anything else. He sighs softly and closes his eyes, enjoying the little moment of peace and warmth, willing both of his boyfriends to just stay still and keep him warm. Hopefully, his body gets back on track and he can survive without three blankets on top of him.
As if. He's at least enjoying the aspect of snuggling up to stay warm. Careful not to elbow anyone in the face, he rolls onto his side so he can press his face against Drew's neck while Wade moves to spoon against the back of his body. Heaven. His throat doesn't hurt as much right now, and his headache has at least ebbed away enough for him to enjoy being cocooned in bed with his guys instead of hating just being alive. It's a bonus that Drew and Wade immediately wrap him up tight in their arms, knowing he needs to stay warm without him asking.
"Feel better, now?" Drew punctuates the words by kissing his forehead, and Heath all but purrs when Wade's hand starts trailing lazily up and down his side. "Think that's a yes."
Wade hums in agreement and drops a kiss onto his shoulder. "Think that's a yes, too, Drew."
"You make me feel better," Heath admits, stroking along Drew's side to mimic how Wade is touching him because it makes all of the starch leave Drew's body and he relaxes against Heath more. Better to cuddle this way. "Thank you."
"You don't have to thank us for taking care of you, red. We enjoy making you feel better when you're feeling bad." Drew tilts his head slightly, lips sliding against Heath's temple.
Wade hums softly, breathing the words against his ears. "You'd do the same for either of us, so really, you don't have to thank us. It's just a part of being together, and we really do enjoy it."
Heath grins and snuggles deeper into the mattress, pressing a kiss to Drew's throat because it's the only place he can reach considering his face is tucked against it. Being sick might be a form of suffering he would prefer to never deal with ever again, but being wrapped in the arms of the men who love him while they touch him and kiss him, soothing away the pain, is more than worth it. He can't wait to get well so he can find a way to repay the favors they've done for him, and he intends on making sure neither of them are able to move by the time he's done.
Besides, at least being sick gives him time to plan exactly how to make them weak.