"You look like shit."
It's not an insult, but a mere observation in Korvo's mind, and he's not wrong - his pupa specialist is a paler, more sickly shade of green than his normal sage and has dark circles under his eyes. He's bundled up in a novelty sweatshirt, thick fuzzy socks, and a pair of sweatpants that says Menace to Society across the ass. Eyes half-lidded, he looks like he's fighting to stay awake, like the life has been sucked out of him.
Terry scoffs, taking another sip of his drink. Korvo is blunt, that's for sure, but it still doesn't fail to surprise him at times. "Well, good morning to you too," he chuckles, the hoarseness in his voice and the cough that follows raising further alarm bells for the scientist.
"You also sound like shit," Korvo observes, setting their breakfast down in front of them and furrowing what would be his brows. He picks at his food, occasionally sneaking glances of concern over at his evacuation partner as a true crime documentary plays in the background. "Are you feeling alright?"
Though exhaustion weighs down his body, Terry smirks lopsidedly. "I'm fine, Korvy. Why, do you care about me or something?" he teases. "That's cute."
The nickname and Terry's teasing bring a cerulean flush to Korvo's cheeks. "I-…sh-shut up," he sputters, averting his gaze.
"Hey, it's probably nothing," he rasps, sneezing and failing to reassure his partner. "I'm fine, I'm probably just on my zeriod. You don't need to-" The green Schlorpian coughs again, holding up a finger. "Worry," he finishes.
Korvo narrows his eyes in suspicion and lurches forward, placing a hand on Terry's forehead and the other on his shoulder. The fork he drops makes a loud clang against his now-empty plate.
"Woah, hello there," Terry stammers, flushing at the sudden touch and the proximity of their faces.
Ah, it's just as he suspected. The green alien feels like a boiler, skin clammy and tacky with sweat. "You're not fine, you're burning up," Korvo observes with a frown, pulling back and crossing his arms. "You need to remove your clothes and get some rest."
Now both of their cheeks burn up even more from Korvo's accidental innuendo. "Damn, Korvy, at least buy a guy a drink first," Terry deadpans, shivering. "I'm fine, I'm not even hot. I'm actually pretty cold right now."
Korvo huffs. "Is that why the fucking thermostat was at seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit this morning? God dammit, Terry, you know anything above sixty-nine is heretical!"
"It's not my fault you like this house to be a freakin' tundra, ya poopy," Terry retorts, head tipped back then lurched forward with another loud sneeze. He stands shakily, feeling like his limbs are tied to sandbags and tries to ignore his head swimming. "I'm gonna go grab some more coffee, do you want anything?"
Before Korvo can answer, his evacuation partner slinks off to the kitchen, humming to himself. A loud thud drives the blue man to spring off the couch, running towards the source of the noise. Terry is on the floor, a dazed look on his face. His heart lurching with worry, Korvo immediately kneels down next to him, cradling his head. "Terry? Terry! Are you okay?"
Terry blinks slowly, vision swirling. He doesn't even process that Korvo is talking to him, nor that he's just fallen – he'd just stood up and felt his vision blur, and the next thing he knows, his back is on the hardwood. "Korvo," he croaks. "What the hell just happened?"
"You fainted, dumbass," he mutters curtly. "I told you you were sick."
"I'm not sick," Terry protests, sitting up. The coughing fit that follows his words immediately makes his point moot. He attempts to stand but finds that he's wobbly again, the room spinning from his delirium. He would have fallen to the floor again had Korvo not been there to catch him.
Face flashing from concern to what looks like anger in concealment of just how worried he is, the ship expert tries not to goobler. "You're going straight to bed," he commands. "For fuck's sake, Terry, I'm giving you a free pass to be lazy for once; I don't understand why you're not taking it."
"Maybe it's you, Korv," Terry drawls, smirking against the crook of Korvo's neck. "Maybe something about you just…irritates me into doing the opposite of whatever it is you want me to do."
The feeling of Terry's hot breath and vibration of his wide lips against him sends a shiver down the blue Shlorpian's spine and he nearly bluescreens. He prays to whatever God exists on this planet that Terry can't hear just how fucking loud his heartbeat is right now. "You're so annoying," he huffs. "Terry, y-you're going to hurt yourself, a-and I really don't want to take you to the hospital today, will you just-" he stammers, huffing in exhasperation. Ugh, he's going to have to bribe this asshole, isn't he? "I'll let you pick what we watch. I'll-I'll even carry you up there. Just…" His voice softens. "Let me take care of you today."
To his surprise, Terry doesn't snark back. "You promise?" the pupa specialist asks weakly, arms wrapped loosely around Korvo's neck.
"Yes, Terry. I-I promise," he stammers, rubbing his partner's back soothingly. Korvo gently scoops his evacuation partner up into his arms bridal style and carries him up the stairs, holding him close to his chest. "I'm going to have Aisha check you for a concussion first. It sounded like you hit your head pretty hard when you fell, and I don't want to take any chances."
Terry doesn't protest, only closes his eyes against Korvo's frame as he walks up the stairs to the ship. He whines a bit at the loss of warmth as he is placed on the floor of the ship.
"Aisha, perform a full body scan on Terry, please," the blue alien commands sharply.
"Scanning," Aisha obliges, a tinge of annoyance in her voice. "Mmm-hmmm," she muses. "Looks like he's got some sort of human influenza. Body temperature is currently higher than normal. He'll need to stay in for the next few days and get lots of rest and fluids," the computer informs.
"Does he have a concussion?"
"Nope! No concussion here. He should be just fine; you can stop bein' a nervous wreck now."
Korvo releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I am not a nervous wreck," he huffs.
"Whatever. Can I go back to watching my show now? I was in the middle of a really steamy scene of Bridgerton, and now I've got needs to take care of."
"We're done here," Korvo blurts, not wanting to know more about said needs of his artificial intelligence. "Thank you, Aisha."
"Mm-hm," Aisha snarks, but Korvo pays no mind to the computer. Scooping Terry into his arms again, he carries him their shared bedroom and gently sets him down on his side of the bed, pulling the covers over him. He turns to walk away but stops in his tracks when he feels a clammy hand grasp his.
"Wait -" Terry pleads, the desperation in his sleepy voice sending a pang of worry into his evacuation partner's chest. "Stay. P-please…"
The scientist's expression falters and his fingers curl around Terry's hand. He wishes with every fiber of his being that he could just do something to make this all better instantly. "I'll be right back, Terry. I just need to get a few things." He gives it a reassuring squeeze, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb. "I-I promise I won't be long." There's a lingering look between the two aliens, and Korvo's eyes trail down piningly to Terry's lips. Terry gives him the exact same look, and it takes everything in him not to just push their lips together the way he's wanted to for so long. Clearing his throat, he flushes a deep ultramarine and lets go of Terry's hand, averting his gaze. "I-I'll uh, be right back," he repeats, closing the door a little too loudly behind him.
As the blue alien rushes down to the kitchen, he assures himself in his head that this affection is just Terry being delirious from fever. The way his own cheeks burn means nothing, and he's just probably getting sick, too. After all, they live in the same house, sleep in the same bed, and spend most of their time together. If one person gets sick, the whole household is inevitably going to fall ill too. The reason he cares so much isn't because he's in love with him! It's just, Terry being sick puts a real hinderance on the mission, and okay, maybe he enjoys his company and cares about his well-being– completely platonically! So what if Korvo feels pangs of jealousy in his stomach every time Terry goes out without him or has a fling with some human? So what if Terry makes him want to be a better person, and waking up and falling asleep next to him is one of his favorite parts of the day? So what if his evacuation partner occupies most of his waking thoughts and he's held back from just grabbing him and kissing him so many times, and he occasionally uses the Pretend-O-Deck to practice confessing his feelings, and gives him longing looks when he thinks he's not looking, or-
Okay, fine, maybe he is in love with Terry. But he has no plans to do anything about it, therefore, he's not in love with Terry! That's just how science works – if he can pretend his feelings don't exist, they'll go away. Besides, there's no way Terry loves him back. There's no universe, in the ship expert's mind, in which Terry wants him the way Korvo wants Terry. Even if by a fraction of a chance he does, what if things go south and they have to still live in the same house in quiet resentment?
Shaking the thoughts off, Korvo puts some ice cubes a glass and fills the glass and their tea kettle with water, turning on the stove for it to boil. While he waits for the whistle of the tea kettle, he rummages through the cabinets for some of the Shlorpian medicine the government had rationed them when they took off the ship. The stuff tastes quite disgusting, and he knows Terry will complain, so he grabs a root beer from the refrigerator for him to wash it down. He finds a mug they'd gotten from the Little Mountain Lake gift shop and places a green tea bag in it, pouring the boiling water into it and turning the stove off as soon as he hears the kettle whistle.
When he's returned upstairs, Korvo gently places the glass of water and tea on the nightstand next to Terry, who stirs and peers at him tired eyes as he feels the mattress sink next to him. "You need to get your body temperature down. I'm going to help you out of your clothes so you don't overheat, is that okay?" Korvo asks, moving the covers back away from Terry. Terry groans but pushes down his sweatpants and shuffles them off before lifting his arms to allow Korvo to pull the sweatshirt up and over his head. Both aliens remain painfully unaware that the other so desperately wishes this were happening in a different context. Averting his gaze so that he doesn't stare and allow his imagination to run, Korvo neatly folds the clothes and places them in a drawer.
As he takes his seat beside him again and begins to unscrew the cap to the medicine, Terry groans. "Ugh, you're not actually going to make me take that shit, are you?" He whines, scrunching what would be his nose.
Korvo rolls his eyes, measuring out the correct amount of medicine and holding the cup up to Terry's lips. "Don't be such a pissbaby, Terry," he growls. "Hold your nose and swallow if you have to."
"That's what she said," Terry smirks, though he follows Korvo's instructions, scrunching up his face and shuddering at the bitterness.
Korvo sighs. Okay, fine, he walked into that one, but this is one of those moments he regrets watching The Office with Terry. "Must you be so aggravating all the time?" he asks, giving him the root beer.
Terry chugs the soda, face unclenching with relief as the taste subsides, and lies back, closing his eyes. "Yup."
"That was a rhetorical question." The blue Shlorpian tenderly places a wet rag on the other alien's forehead. As Terry opens his eyes to meet his partner's, both of their cheeks flush, a smile tugging at both pairs of lips. Something about being taken care of in this way, especially by a man not usually known for showy displays of affection, stirs a feeling of warmth in Terry's chest. If he weren't so exhausted and delirious from his fever, he'd find it extremely difficult to resist the temptation to grab the front of Korvo's robe and pull him into a kiss. Even now, the wish is there, and eyes flicker for a millisecond to his lips, but he doesn't want to close the distance and have Korvo yell at him about getting him sick.
Breaking from his train of thought, Korvo clears his throat and averts his eyes, standing up from the bed. "W-well, uh, keep that there for a while and drink your fluids. And make sure you're getting rest."
"Thank you." Terry smiles that stupid, wide grin of his, the one that always makes Korvo feel like there are gooblers dancing around in his stomach. "Y'know, for taking care of me and looking out for me. I appreciate it."
His cheeks darken. "Y-yes, well, uh, it's very important to the mission that you're functioning at optimum," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. "A-and speaking of the mission, I'm gonna go….uh, fix something on the ship. Just call me if you need anything else." He begins walking out of the room, Terry's voice stopping him in his tracks.
"Wait," the green alien pleads, immediately flushing with embarrassment at how desperate that sounds. "Um," he averts his gaze, blue dotting his cheeks as Korvo turns back around to look at him. "You promised to watch whatever I wanted with me, remember?" Covering his embarrassment with a smirk, he says, "You didn't think I'd forget, did you?"
Terry pats the spot beside him and motions for Korvo to join him. "I mean, you're probably gonna get sick, too, anyway, right? Y-you should rest! Y'know, to like, protect your immune system or whatever. A-and you've been working too hard lately. You'll probably get a worse sickness if you don't take a break from the ship and sleep for once." Yeah, yep, that's the reason he wants Korvo to stay with him. Definitely not because he wants to cuddle, no siree.
Well, he can't argue with that. He can, actually, but he doesn't want to. With a smile, Korvo shuffles off his thick robe and slides into bed next to his partner. Terry, still delirious, scoots over to him and rests his head on his chest, snaking an arm around his waist. Korvo stiffens for a moment but leans into his teammate's touch and relaxes, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. Terry hums in approval, lids closing as he pulls Korvo tighter to him and nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Welp, looks like they aren't watching anything today – it's nap time, and Korvo is just fine with that. The blue alien yawns, finding that his own lids are quite heavy. Perhaps Terry is right – he has been working quite a lot, and he really hasn't been allowing himself enough rest.
Okay, this is quite nice. He could rest for a bit. And by a bit, he means forever, or at least until the replicants are home from school. As he begins to drift off, chest stirring at the feeling of their skin pressed together, Korvo can't help but watch the rise and fall of his chest, not even realizing the fond smile that's tugging at his lips.
"I love you," Korvo whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead and hoping Terry is deep enough in sleep and delirium not to hear him.
He isn't, but to the ship expert's surprise, he feels a smile against his neck rather than a condescending snicker. "I love you too, Korvotron."