"Jonathan! Will! Time for school!" Joyce called out for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. Getting those two boys up and out the door on time was becoming more difficult every day. Jonathan she understood; teenagers are notorious for staying up too late. Will, prior to this week, was usually up and moving on his own.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," she heard Jonathan mumble from his room, obviously still half asleep. A few seconds later he lurched around the corner, eyes barely open and backpack hanging off his right shoulder.
"Where's Will? Usually he's the first one out," she asked, not waiting for an answer to look for herself. She opened the door to see Will, pale as a ghost, sitting on the bed trying to get up.
"Will, honey," she said softly, in the tone of voice she uses when she's more worried than usual, "are you OK?"
"I'm fine Mom, I'll be ready in a minute," he rasped out, working to catch his breath. Before he could finish the sentence Joyce was in front of him, feeling his head and neck. "Sweetie, you're burning up. Go ahead and lay back down. You're not going to school today."
"But Mom, it's Friday — Dungeons and Dragons at Mikes tonight."
"I know you like playing with your friends, Will, but you're too sick. You need to rest," she replied, worry dripping from her voice. Will opened his mouth as if to protest but the expression on his mother's face shut that down instantly. Joyce was generally permissive with her sons but when she started worrying the house became Soviet Russia. "Now, you lie back down. I'm going to call Mr. Melvald and let him know I can't come in today."
Upon hearing that Jonathan's ears perked up and he was instantly awake. "I can stay home with Will, Mom. That way you don't have to give up hours at the store." Joyce wasn't falling for that one. "Nice try, but you're not getting out of that math test today. Now go; you're already late" At that, Jonathan skulked out the door and started heading to school. She tousled Will's hair, letting him know that she'd be right back before walking out to the kitchen phone.
Will could hear his mother's side of the conversation. "Will's too sick for school today, can you cover for me?"
"Thank you so much, Mr. Melvald. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important."
"I can do that… Tuesday… sure."
"You too, bye."
He heard the receiver drop into its cradle and his mom walking through the house. She came back into the bedroom and felt his skin again. "You're really warm, honey. Let's get your temperature and see if I need to call the doctor."
If his cheeks weren't red before they certainly were after hearing those words. Will instantly got flustered and tried to convince his mother to change her mind. "We don't need to do that. I'm fine, really. It's just a bad cold. We d-" She cut him off with a look. There's no escaping Soviet Russia.
Her mind made up, Joyce walked into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and grabbed the red thermometer and a jar of Vaseline. Will shuddered as she came back into the room, dreading what was coming.
"Can't we use a mouth thermometer, Mom? I'm too old for the baby one," he argued in vain.
"Will, honey, it's not just for babies," she responded soothingly. "This way's more accurate and I'm not sure we'd even be able to get an oral reading with how heavy you're breathing. I know it can feel a bit awkward but there's nothing to be embarrassed about.
Will wanted to argue more but decided it was pointless.
"Do you think you can lay on your tummy?" Joyce asked. That was the easiest way to get the reading if possible. Will simply nodded. He was feeling fairly nauseated but the alternative wasn't better. He could never manage to hold still laying on his side and just the thought of laying on his back with his mom holding his legs up was mortifying.
Will shivered a bit when his mother pulled the blankets off him. "Sorry, sweetie, once we're done here we'll get you comfortable so you can sleep." He just laid there and waited for the inevitable.
Joyce got the thermometer out of its case and shook it down with a few quick snaps of her wrist before placing the tip in the Vaseline. She helped him up onto his knees with his hands on her shoulder for support. Will tensed up a bit as she took hold of the waistband of his pajamas and pulled them down to his knees before helping him lay face down over her lap. In that position, Joyce had more control to help him keep still if necessary - it would be very dangerous if the mercury thermometer broke - not that that made it any less embarrassing for him, laying naked across his mother's lap at ten years old, his penis pressed against her leg as she held him by the bottom.
Joyce put a glob of jelly on her index finger and, separating Will's bottom cheeks with her other hand, rubbed a bit on his anus. She always lubricated both his bottom and the thermometer to make the procedure as comfortable for him as possible. She wiped her finger on a tissue and picked up the thermometer.
Will was still tensing up as she got ready to get the reading. "Try to unclench your bottom, sweetie. It won't be as uncomfortable if you're relaxed," she told him. He relaxed a little bit and she spread his bottom cheeks again, easily inserting the thermometer about and inch or so. He whimpered as the thermometer went in — more from embarrassment than discomfort — and she shushed him softly, holding him close with one hand, the other holding the end of the thermometer between her index and middle fingers like a cigarette with her palm cupped over his bottom for steadiness. "Just a few minutes and it'll be over," she assured him.
Laying across his mother's lap with the thermometer in his backside, Will noticed himself starting to get an erection. This never happened before. What's wrong with me? Am I enjoying this?! As he breathed in and out the thermometer moved inside him ever so slightly. His breathing sped up as he started to panic at his apparent arousal and he tried to push himself up. "Shh, hey, hey, you're OK," Joyce tried to calm him down. "That's totally normal for your age, sweetie; there's nothing to be upset about." Knowing that his mother noticed what was happening was horrifying and he felt like he might cry. He tried to choke back his tears and relaxed his body, trying to will the experience to be over (pun unintended).
Five minutes felt more like five hours, waiting with his mom's hand on his bare bottom while she hummed softly to pass the time. Once the time was up, she removed the thermometer, the stimulation making his nearly-flaccid penis twitch again. She wiped off the thermometer with a tissue and read the number. "103.1," she announced, "that's pretty high." She used another tissue to wipe the excess Vaseline off his bottom, as he wept quietly from the humiliation. She rubbed his back for a few seconds, reassuring him that his body's involuntary reaction to the thermometer was completely normal and didn't mean anything.
Joyce helped Will up to his knees and pulled his pajama pants back up. He was still semi-erect and was clearly mortified by that fact. He had tears running down his face and she wiped them away, giving him a sympathetic smile before standing up and tucking him back into bed.
"I'm going to give the doctor a call and see what he recommends we do for the fever. Try to get some rest and I'll be back in a little bit to check on you, OK?" Will nodded in agreement and closed his eyes, trying to forget what had just happened.