A/N: Sequel to previous chapter.
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"I told you you would get sick."
Yuri's attempt at a laugh throws him into a coughing fit. "Yeah," he admits once he can talk again, "but now you're taking care of me. Who's the real winner here?"
"There is no winner in this, Yuri," Flynn sighs.
He hadn't planned on coming to take care of Yuri in the first place. It's only been a day since Yuri's little escapade in the rain, and sure enough, the idiot managed to catch a cold despite the old saying. Flynn wouldn't have even known about it, but Repede showed up near the end of his patrol duty, barking and obviously trying to get Flynn to follow, so the blond assumed something was horribly wrong. Yuri must have been dying, or Repede wouldn't have insisted on Flynn following him to his owner. And when Flynn opened the door of Yuri's home, he honestly thought the other man might be dead. Yuri was virtually comatose, covers pulled up almost over his head, his chest barely moving beneath their weight. But then Flynn got close enough to see his flushed skin, and Yuri's eyes opened, red and watery with sickness, and he understood.
"I think I'm the winner," Yuri clarifies, and Flynn looks back at him blankly. The dark-haired man gives a little grin and manages to sit up, leaning forward in an attempt to kiss Flynn, but Flynn stops him immediately.
"You can't kiss me. I don't have time to get sick." Flynn almost feels guilty when Yuri sinks back down in bed in defeat.
"That's not fair. You're so mean, Flynn. You value your own health more than you love me. I fall second to work. I see how it is."
Flynn pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "How high is your fever?" he asks, fairly certain he already knows the answer from Yuri's nonsensical rambling.
"Not high enough to make you love me, apparently," Yuri shoots back.
Flynn knows punching a sick man would be cruel, but that doesn't stop him from wanting to. "That doesn't even make sense, Yuri… Stop talking for a minute. I need to take your temperature." He rummages through the drawers in Yuri's dresser before finally finding a thermometer.
"Make me."
Flynn shoves the thermometer into Yuri's mouth. Yuri glares but keeps it beneath his tongue nonetheless. Flynn uses the moments of silence to get some actual work done, filling up a glass with water for his sick lover and wetting rags to wipe the cold sweat from his face. Yuri isn't sick often, but when he is, he looks absolutely pitiful, nothing left of the confident and snarky man of norm.
Flynn pulls the thermometer from his mouth, offering him a glass of water instead, and the number he reads confirms his fears. He opens the window, and Yuri nearly chokes on his water at the gust of cold air that blows through. "It's cold," he whines, trying in vain to burrow further beneath the blankets. "Close the window."
"I can't." Flynn pulls the blankets from Yuri's body, refusing to give them back even when the dark-haired man reaches for them. "Your fever is too high. I have to bring it down like this. Do you have any ice in here?"
"I don't. But I wouldn't tell you even if I did." Yuri falls back onto the bed like all of his strength has fled him and squeezes his eyes shut. "I'm going to freeze."
"You aren't going to freeze," Flynn sighs. Yuri is shivering, yes, but if Flynn doesn't bring down his fever, they'll have a far more serious problem on their hands than him being a bit cold. "Relax." He wipes off Yuri's face with a rag and brushes a strand of hair from in front of his closed eyes. "I'll stay with you until your fever goes down."
One of Yuri's hands drifts up to touch Flynn's, and the blond allows that, lets Yuri twine their fingers together. "You do love me," Yuri says, sounding smug as if he just won a bet. A smile appears on his face despite everything. "I knew it."
"Just rest," Flynn says by way of response. "Sleep if you can. I'll be here when you wake up."
"'kay."
Yuri is annoying when he's sick, far more annoying than usual, but the affection and honesty is refreshing. So Flynn doesn't mind staying here and holding his hand, keeping him warm in this way. He doesn't mind at all.