Disclaimer: All of Final Fantasy 8 belongs to the demigods at Square Enix and Sony and it makes me sad.
Written for the fatedchildren community at livejournal, for the the themes "You never know when to stop" and fever.
Warnings:LagunaxSquall (don't like, don't read, kthx. ;) some sap and a stubborn Squall.


"I told you to come inside when it started to rain, but you just wouldn't quit, would you? Now look at you."

Laguna soaked the cloth in his hands in cool water for what felt like the millionth time in the past two days, then got rid of the excess water and gently dabbed Squall's forehead, worry obvious in his eyes as his fingertips brushed the boys forehead and found skin that was still so much too hot.

"And don't give me that "I never get sick" routine again, you do get sick, you just ignore it until it goes away. It's no wonder you're so thin, you never take proper care of yourself. It's a miracle you haven't collapsed already."

He left the cloth on Squall's forehead for a moment, granting him some measure of relief as it soaked up the warmth that just kept coming from within him. He wanted to speak up, to protest Laguna's words, but the only sound he could bring forth was a groan that sounded weak even to his own ears.

"No, don't say a word. I know what you're thinking and I don't want to hear it. I swear you're as stubborn as your mother."

The thought of Laguna comparing him to his mother made him smile vaguely until even that was too great an effort. It just sounded so absurd, considering that they were sleeping together, had been sleeping together since the beginning of the war even when Squall had, in a splendid moment of clarity, realized that his feelings for Laguna were just a little different than those of a son for his father.

"You do know I'm not going to let you out of bed until you're all better, don't you? I know you're probably thinking you're fine and able to go to work, but that'll just make it worse and I won't have it."

Squall tried to snort, but even that was asking a little too much right now. All he could do was lie back and try to enjoy Laguna's cares. Not that it was so hard, really, his touch was gentle and his hands were tender, powered by love and concern. He felt like sleeping, like averting his eyes from their thoughtless gazing at the ceiling and drifting off, but that would be giving in, that'd be admitting that he felt tired and that he was sick. He wasn't sick, he was just…too warm.
Instead, he reached up, his arm heavy, as if lead weights were suspended from his wrist, and put his hand on Laguna's nape, feebly pulling until he leaned closer out of his own will, Squall being too weak to actually pull him to where he wanted him. He smiled again, no more than a tugging at his lips, and pressed his mouth against Laguna's, lips slightly parted in invitation.

Laguna sighed softly and resisted the urge to roll his eyes, gently arranging Squall's head on his pillow and tucking in the blankets around him, the sick boy having fallen asleep no more than two seconds into their kiss.
He tucked a few stray strands of light brown hair behind Squall's ears and leaned just close enough to lean his forehead against Squall's with another quiet sigh.

"You never know when to stop, do you?"