((snrrrrk Okay... So I was feeling bored with this and wanting to rush it to an ending, but the boys aren't letting me. I'm sorry this is so haphazard. I think we'll all have to just accept it's how the story is demanding to be told. Duo doesn't want to leap at Heero yet and he won't let me even get a simple confession out of him! hates characters with a mind of their own So - I'm sick as a dog, and this is what came of it. I'm going back to bed.))
:What Do you Do with a Sick Duo?:
"Nnnngggghhhrrrrggghhh." The sound emanating from under the covers was a low, long, and complicated series of sounds, each chosen specifically to broadcast how incredibly and excruciatingly sick the personage under the covers happened to have found himself.
The door opened carefully. Quatre's brow crinkled in concern as he edged himself into the room. The room had a distinct odor of sweat slicked skin and heat and a lack of bathing that morning. It wasn't a sickly smell, but more of a comfortable one, male and sweet over the acrid taste under it. But despite the comfort in the scent and the darkness of the room with it's blinds closed, Quatre remained cautious in entering. A sick pilot is not always the safest thing to walk in on.
"Duo?" the soft voice drug another moan out from under the covers. Settling down on the bed beside the lump, Quatre fiddled with the end of the comforter. "Heero said you were feeling ill. He said you weren't drinking much and..."
"Quat?" the broken sound from under the covers was one of hope and long slender fingers that had once shot dolls down out of the sky, curled alien like from underneath, around over the top, and pulled down enough to reveal a tousled golden brown head and one eye so deeply blue and shot through with tawny streaks so that it looks almost violet if one weren't close enough to tell the difference.
Quatre's gentle smile greeted the eye and his fingers reached out to brush the bangs back from that feverishly hot brow. Drawing back in alarm, he hissed. "Duo! You're burning up! We should get you cooled down. Have you taken anything for this yet?" knowing full well, due to Heero's silent anger that no, Duo had refused medicine. He complained often that the medicines made the sickness worse, not better and chose to do it the hard way more often than not.
"Dun'like it.." came the petulant reply and Duo's hands tightened on the blanket, pulling them back up and over his head into a tight mass of folds. It is no secret that Quatre was there for a reason. And the reason being to do some work on Duo and his aching body.
"Hmm.. I know.." broke the soft reply right before the terrifying rip of a package at which broke another moan from under the blankets. This one of protest. "And yes, I know you don't want to take this either," Quatre sympathized as he grabbed a fistful of blanket and half kneeled, bracing himself before with a violent jerk, drug the blanket away in one swift motion.
Duo is often times a formidable enemy when it comes to blanket stealing. But a sick Duo can only (apparently) curl up and cry. It's enough to break even the hardest of hearts, which is probably, Quatre considers, why Heero was nowhere nearby. Heero wasn't into having his heart broken at all by such things.
And speaking of the devil, "W'rrs 'Ro?" the moan came from the shivering body.
"He's run for cover," Quatre replied as he slowly uncapped the medicine, pouring some into a cup and holding it out.
"Hate th'stuff.." was the whine and Duo's arms tightened even further around his head and shoulders.
"Yes, you do.. please though? It'll cut through this fever." Quatre, the inexorable. Known for his puppy dog eyes and his sweet pleading, can get where no one else can.
"S'always runnin' off.." broke the next whine and Quatre sighed. Yes, Heero is always running off. Maybe it was because Heero had trouble facing up to the weakness of others that he saw as indomitable. Or perhaps, Quatre smirked, it was that he feared his own weakness.
That, however, was a tale for a different time.
"Here, just a little bit. There's just this and I've got some Ibuprofen to go with this."
"Hrrmm?" That violet like eye emerged from over a forearm, shot through with misery, lashes clinging around the tears. Most of the pilots could contend with a bad cold or a general bout of influenza. Duo as well, could manage his piloting in this state. It was just that when not on the clock, he rarely felt the need to act stoic. In fact, it was times like this where his innate need for hedonism rose in all it's glory. Much to the chagrin of all the others.
"Judging from the way you're breathing, you'll need it. This is Guaifenesin. It'll help loosen up the congestion in your lungs." It also would not make Duo sleepy like the other syrups he found. He wasn't so sure about using it with Duo's fever. But it didn't seem like a day's worth of the medicine would be too detrimental.
With a low moan, Duo sat up, each motion aching from joints and muscles screaming in protest. "Kay.." his mumbled reply as he gave in. Much easier than when they were in the war. During the war, Duo had had a fear that anything he took would steal his edge. He'd refused and there were times when they'd have to sit on him and force medicine down his throat. Quatre had a bit of a bump on the slender length of his nose from where it had been broken from one such bout. That bump also left him safe when it came to administering medicines from then on out. One thing Duo was a master at, right after hedonism, was pure guilt and shame.
Leaving Duo to down the vile stuff, Quatre stood up and went to retrieve the pills and a glass of water pulled from the bathroom sink. These too, he holds out and sees with satisfaction that they are taken with only a murmur of protest.
Satisfied, Quatre helped Duo lay back down, considering taking his temperature now that his body had been in the air some time. The blanket would have shown them a higher temperature than was true. But the pitiful state of Duo's shivering body led him to believe he'd not get that far, unless he covered Duo up first. So after finding the discarded bedding and tucking Duo in, Quatre went into the bathroom a final time, emerging with a hand held ear temperature gauge.
This was easier than the medicines and it went far more smoothly, so that some time later, when Heero returned, Quat was gone, Duo was asleep, and a note waited for the absent roommate.
- 'Hee-chan,
So you can be kept abreast of what is going on. I gave him 200 mg of Guaifenesin as well as 400 mg of Ibuprofen at 10:00 hours. You might want to double up with some Acetaminophen around 12:00 but it's not necessary. He won't need anything until 16:00 when you can repeat the doseage. If his fever hasn't broken by then, switch to Acetaminophen so we don't over do the Ibu. Temperature is only 101.7 so he should be okay. Good luck!
Quatre
PS. I've got meetings tonight and tomorrow morning, so good luck! '
A racking cough led Heero through the doors with a bottle taken up from the table beside the note in hand. His face set for war.
"Duo?" Softly, because maybe he'd not been awake. Still, the murmured groan under the blanket pile that was Duo countered that thought and Heero, face cold and hands tensed on the bottle, sat carefully on the edge of the bed. "It's four thirty. You probably need some more medicine."
"'Ro?" Duo's head slowly broke free of the blankets like that of an ancient turtle. "Ugh... no more of that guya-shit stuff, please?"
Heero's mouth showed no sign of the light laugh in his soul, but he nodded and with that agreement was able to tempt Duo out with a glass of water and the medicine. Duo's eyes half shut, he drank it all, then held it out as he lowered himself painfully back to the pillow. Every neuron in his body was screaming to be taken out into the back and shot, put out of its misery. "Annnhhhh Hee-channnn" he groaned and looked to where his roomie had been sitting a moment before. Empty. Heero had left as soon as his mission was completed. Damn but the guy was in some ways, very much like his fictional counterpart. Though there weren't the same, easy to buy reasons behind why he pulled away so often. Things were just more complicated in real life.
Coughing broke up from his bronchial tubes and rattled up his throat. It left everything sore, even the muscles on the back of his shoulders. Luckily it wasn't a tickle, more of a clearing that had to be done so he didn't drown in his own .. whatever you wanna call it. Mucus, spit, something.
Eyes closed, Duo moaned softly and burrowed his face back into his pillow, tucking the blankets up around his ears once more. Nothing worse than being sick alone and with an uncaring roomie. He wanted Quatre back. But Quatre had said something about being too busy for the rest of the day and tomorrow as well. No fair really, because by the time Quatre wasn't busy anymore, Duo would be just fine. Or fine enough to not need his friend nearby.
Exhaustion claiming him once more, he was sliding back into the darkness of fever induced sleep when a hand pressed lightly to the side of his head, cool and slightly wet. He hadn't need of reflexes any longer and so his reaction was slow, a turning of his head, a breaking of eyelids as he lowered the blanket to under his chin. Then an even slower recognition of what was beside him on a chair. "Heero?" He couldn't believe the sound of... hope in his voice. But then, he felt too damn sick to consider why he might have felt hopeful.
"Hn." One of those many meaning words, this one was 'shut-up sickie.' And Duo knew to follow the order, closing his eyes when a cloth passes his peripheral vision and lowers onto his face.
"Ai! S'cold, Hee-chan.." Duo winced back and then eased a moment after as the cloth was moved about his brow and down against his temples. The sickness hadn't been nice to him and he felt grimy. He didn't need to complain so long as that sheen of sweat and breath was removed from his skin.
There was no answer and neither of them expected one. You don't live near or with one another that long and not know some things about one another. Duo was tempted to tease about Quatre having been the one to put him up to this, but he knew better. That would call an end to any ministrations. And these particular favors were nice, reaaaal nice. Who knew Heero could be so gentle?
Falling asleep under the cool cloth on his face and neck and shoulders was the way to go for someone who would be a cat in his next reincarnation. And waking up with his body sore once more in a dark room, was a let down so severe that Duo made sure to cry a little in disappointment. But no sooner had the first tear run down his face than a cool hand brushed his brow and a figure leaned from the chair by the bed.
"M'awake.." Duo wasn't sure if the snuffle in his words was indicative of anything but a bad cold. He hoped not. But then, the light flicking on by the bedside certainly took care of that. Quatre's smile and the gentle flooding of the room with orange artificial light came as balm to a sick soul.
"So you are.." the soft voice of one of his close friends sounded intimate in the darkness, like there was a secret that no one else could know but the two of them, comforting in its own way. Duo felt Quatre's fingers run under his eye and wipe away that tear that hadn't fallen just yet. "Still feeling crummy?" even as he asked, Quatre went about the act of checking temperature and getting out the medicines.
"Mmmm.." the mournful groan answered Quatre and Duo watched his friend hand him only one pill this time.
"Your fever is broken," the gentle voice slides around him and settles next to his side. "This is just for the aches. You'll probably be better by morning time. Get some rest now, okay?"
Medicine, soothing hand, cooling voice, Duo slept.
Only to be woken by a firm hand on his shoulder that made his bones grate together. "oooowwwwww"
"Sorry.." the terse voice shocks Duo awake. Still dark, yet that lamp beside his bed was on yet. Heero actually looked embarrassed. "You have to get up. You're freezing and you're in a bed that is wet through. When your fever broke, you sweat in it too much. C'mon.."
"Wh're?" Duo pushed up against the bed. He was feeling better. His body still ached, but the bleary haze was gone. That was the fever he reckoned.
"You're going to sleep in my bed. It's dry, and I'll change your sheets while you sleep so that your bed will be okay in the morning." Heero's directives came as calmly as a mission. It was simply something to do.
"Not gon' carry me?" Duo listened in horror as his pen began to write a story for himself, one where he was gathered up into cold, indifferent (but not so indifferent) arms to be transported to a room where, half dying, he could be made love t- Shoving the pen back where it needed to stay so that his fuck-ups remained few and far between, he ducked his head and with a flush of shame, stood unsteadily, being held by an elbow for a moment from the stolid arm of his friend, then, on his own, stumbled to Heero's room and obediently fell into the dark blue field.
The comforter smelled like Heero. And the pillow had had a new cover put on it, still sweet from laundry soap and the smell of Heero's shampoo, given his roomie's habit of taking a bath before bed and going to his rest with wet hair. Not like it made any difference. The man woke up with bed head no matter what. And that bed head was a constant state, even after it had been cared for in the daytime. Heero's hair simply had a mind of its own.
Sleep became a welcome respite from thoughts of Heero.
:What Do you Do with a Sick Duo?:
"Nnnngggghhhrrrrggghhh." The sound emanating from under the covers was a low, long, and complicated series of sounds, each chosen specifically to broadcast how incredibly and excruciatingly sick the personage under the covers happened to have found himself.
The door opened carefully. Quatre's brow crinkled in concern as he edged himself into the room. The room had a distinct odor of sweat slicked skin and heat and a lack of bathing that morning. It wasn't a sickly smell, but more of a comfortable one, male and sweet over the acrid taste under it. But despite the comfort in the scent and the darkness of the room with it's blinds closed, Quatre remained cautious in entering. A sick pilot is not always the safest thing to walk in on.
"Duo?" the soft voice drug another moan out from under the covers. Settling down on the bed beside the lump, Quatre fiddled with the end of the comforter. "Heero said you were feeling ill. He said you weren't drinking much and..."
"Quat?" the broken sound from under the covers was one of hope and long slender fingers that had once shot dolls down out of the sky, curled alien like from underneath, around over the top, and pulled down enough to reveal a tousled golden brown head and one eye so deeply blue and shot through with tawny streaks so that it looks almost violet if one weren't close enough to tell the difference.
Quatre's gentle smile greeted the eye and his fingers reached out to brush the bangs back from that feverishly hot brow. Drawing back in alarm, he hissed. "Duo! You're burning up! We should get you cooled down. Have you taken anything for this yet?" knowing full well, due to Heero's silent anger that no, Duo had refused medicine. He complained often that the medicines made the sickness worse, not better and chose to do it the hard way more often than not.
"Dun'like it.." came the petulant reply and Duo's hands tightened on the blanket, pulling them back up and over his head into a tight mass of folds. It is no secret that Quatre was there for a reason. And the reason being to do some work on Duo and his aching body.
"Hmm.. I know.." broke the soft reply right before the terrifying rip of a package at which broke another moan from under the blankets. This one of protest. "And yes, I know you don't want to take this either," Quatre sympathized as he grabbed a fistful of blanket and half kneeled, bracing himself before with a violent jerk, drug the blanket away in one swift motion.
Duo is often times a formidable enemy when it comes to blanket stealing. But a sick Duo can only (apparently) curl up and cry. It's enough to break even the hardest of hearts, which is probably, Quatre considers, why Heero was nowhere nearby. Heero wasn't into having his heart broken at all by such things.
And speaking of the devil, "W'rrs 'Ro?" the moan came from the shivering body.
"He's run for cover," Quatre replied as he slowly uncapped the medicine, pouring some into a cup and holding it out.
"Hate th'stuff.." was the whine and Duo's arms tightened even further around his head and shoulders.
"Yes, you do.. please though? It'll cut through this fever." Quatre, the inexorable. Known for his puppy dog eyes and his sweet pleading, can get where no one else can.
"S'always runnin' off.." broke the next whine and Quatre sighed. Yes, Heero is always running off. Maybe it was because Heero had trouble facing up to the weakness of others that he saw as indomitable. Or perhaps, Quatre smirked, it was that he feared his own weakness.
That, however, was a tale for a different time.
"Here, just a little bit. There's just this and I've got some Ibuprofen to go with this."
"Hrrmm?" That violet like eye emerged from over a forearm, shot through with misery, lashes clinging around the tears. Most of the pilots could contend with a bad cold or a general bout of influenza. Duo as well, could manage his piloting in this state. It was just that when not on the clock, he rarely felt the need to act stoic. In fact, it was times like this where his innate need for hedonism rose in all it's glory. Much to the chagrin of all the others.
"Judging from the way you're breathing, you'll need it. This is Guaifenesin. It'll help loosen up the congestion in your lungs." It also would not make Duo sleepy like the other syrups he found. He wasn't so sure about using it with Duo's fever. But it didn't seem like a day's worth of the medicine would be too detrimental.
With a low moan, Duo sat up, each motion aching from joints and muscles screaming in protest. "Kay.." his mumbled reply as he gave in. Much easier than when they were in the war. During the war, Duo had had a fear that anything he took would steal his edge. He'd refused and there were times when they'd have to sit on him and force medicine down his throat. Quatre had a bit of a bump on the slender length of his nose from where it had been broken from one such bout. That bump also left him safe when it came to administering medicines from then on out. One thing Duo was a master at, right after hedonism, was pure guilt and shame.
Leaving Duo to down the vile stuff, Quatre stood up and went to retrieve the pills and a glass of water pulled from the bathroom sink. These too, he holds out and sees with satisfaction that they are taken with only a murmur of protest.
Satisfied, Quatre helped Duo lay back down, considering taking his temperature now that his body had been in the air some time. The blanket would have shown them a higher temperature than was true. But the pitiful state of Duo's shivering body led him to believe he'd not get that far, unless he covered Duo up first. So after finding the discarded bedding and tucking Duo in, Quatre went into the bathroom a final time, emerging with a hand held ear temperature gauge.
This was easier than the medicines and it went far more smoothly, so that some time later, when Heero returned, Quat was gone, Duo was asleep, and a note waited for the absent roommate.
- 'Hee-chan,
So you can be kept abreast of what is going on. I gave him 200 mg of Guaifenesin as well as 400 mg of Ibuprofen at 10:00 hours. You might want to double up with some Acetaminophen around 12:00 but it's not necessary. He won't need anything until 16:00 when you can repeat the doseage. If his fever hasn't broken by then, switch to Acetaminophen so we don't over do the Ibu. Temperature is only 101.7 so he should be okay. Good luck!
Quatre
PS. I've got meetings tonight and tomorrow morning, so good luck! '
A racking cough led Heero through the doors with a bottle taken up from the table beside the note in hand. His face set for war.
"Duo?" Softly, because maybe he'd not been awake. Still, the murmured groan under the blanket pile that was Duo countered that thought and Heero, face cold and hands tensed on the bottle, sat carefully on the edge of the bed. "It's four thirty. You probably need some more medicine."
"'Ro?" Duo's head slowly broke free of the blankets like that of an ancient turtle. "Ugh... no more of that guya-shit stuff, please?"
Heero's mouth showed no sign of the light laugh in his soul, but he nodded and with that agreement was able to tempt Duo out with a glass of water and the medicine. Duo's eyes half shut, he drank it all, then held it out as he lowered himself painfully back to the pillow. Every neuron in his body was screaming to be taken out into the back and shot, put out of its misery. "Annnhhhh Hee-channnn" he groaned and looked to where his roomie had been sitting a moment before. Empty. Heero had left as soon as his mission was completed. Damn but the guy was in some ways, very much like his fictional counterpart. Though there weren't the same, easy to buy reasons behind why he pulled away so often. Things were just more complicated in real life.
Coughing broke up from his bronchial tubes and rattled up his throat. It left everything sore, even the muscles on the back of his shoulders. Luckily it wasn't a tickle, more of a clearing that had to be done so he didn't drown in his own .. whatever you wanna call it. Mucus, spit, something.
Eyes closed, Duo moaned softly and burrowed his face back into his pillow, tucking the blankets up around his ears once more. Nothing worse than being sick alone and with an uncaring roomie. He wanted Quatre back. But Quatre had said something about being too busy for the rest of the day and tomorrow as well. No fair really, because by the time Quatre wasn't busy anymore, Duo would be just fine. Or fine enough to not need his friend nearby.
Exhaustion claiming him once more, he was sliding back into the darkness of fever induced sleep when a hand pressed lightly to the side of his head, cool and slightly wet. He hadn't need of reflexes any longer and so his reaction was slow, a turning of his head, a breaking of eyelids as he lowered the blanket to under his chin. Then an even slower recognition of what was beside him on a chair. "Heero?" He couldn't believe the sound of... hope in his voice. But then, he felt too damn sick to consider why he might have felt hopeful.
"Hn." One of those many meaning words, this one was 'shut-up sickie.' And Duo knew to follow the order, closing his eyes when a cloth passes his peripheral vision and lowers onto his face.
"Ai! S'cold, Hee-chan.." Duo winced back and then eased a moment after as the cloth was moved about his brow and down against his temples. The sickness hadn't been nice to him and he felt grimy. He didn't need to complain so long as that sheen of sweat and breath was removed from his skin.
There was no answer and neither of them expected one. You don't live near or with one another that long and not know some things about one another. Duo was tempted to tease about Quatre having been the one to put him up to this, but he knew better. That would call an end to any ministrations. And these particular favors were nice, reaaaal nice. Who knew Heero could be so gentle?
Falling asleep under the cool cloth on his face and neck and shoulders was the way to go for someone who would be a cat in his next reincarnation. And waking up with his body sore once more in a dark room, was a let down so severe that Duo made sure to cry a little in disappointment. But no sooner had the first tear run down his face than a cool hand brushed his brow and a figure leaned from the chair by the bed.
"M'awake.." Duo wasn't sure if the snuffle in his words was indicative of anything but a bad cold. He hoped not. But then, the light flicking on by the bedside certainly took care of that. Quatre's smile and the gentle flooding of the room with orange artificial light came as balm to a sick soul.
"So you are.." the soft voice of one of his close friends sounded intimate in the darkness, like there was a secret that no one else could know but the two of them, comforting in its own way. Duo felt Quatre's fingers run under his eye and wipe away that tear that hadn't fallen just yet. "Still feeling crummy?" even as he asked, Quatre went about the act of checking temperature and getting out the medicines.
"Mmmm.." the mournful groan answered Quatre and Duo watched his friend hand him only one pill this time.
"Your fever is broken," the gentle voice slides around him and settles next to his side. "This is just for the aches. You'll probably be better by morning time. Get some rest now, okay?"
Medicine, soothing hand, cooling voice, Duo slept.
Only to be woken by a firm hand on his shoulder that made his bones grate together. "oooowwwwww"
"Sorry.." the terse voice shocks Duo awake. Still dark, yet that lamp beside his bed was on yet. Heero actually looked embarrassed. "You have to get up. You're freezing and you're in a bed that is wet through. When your fever broke, you sweat in it too much. C'mon.."
"Wh're?" Duo pushed up against the bed. He was feeling better. His body still ached, but the bleary haze was gone. That was the fever he reckoned.
"You're going to sleep in my bed. It's dry, and I'll change your sheets while you sleep so that your bed will be okay in the morning." Heero's directives came as calmly as a mission. It was simply something to do.
"Not gon' carry me?" Duo listened in horror as his pen began to write a story for himself, one where he was gathered up into cold, indifferent (but not so indifferent) arms to be transported to a room where, half dying, he could be made love t- Shoving the pen back where it needed to stay so that his fuck-ups remained few and far between, he ducked his head and with a flush of shame, stood unsteadily, being held by an elbow for a moment from the stolid arm of his friend, then, on his own, stumbled to Heero's room and obediently fell into the dark blue field.
The comforter smelled like Heero. And the pillow had had a new cover put on it, still sweet from laundry soap and the smell of Heero's shampoo, given his roomie's habit of taking a bath before bed and going to his rest with wet hair. Not like it made any difference. The man woke up with bed head no matter what. And that bed head was a constant state, even after it had been cared for in the daytime. Heero's hair simply had a mind of its own.
Sleep became a welcome respite from thoughts of Heero.
