(Author's Note: Prompt: a hoarse whisper- "kiss me". Nine/Theron.)
Sick Day
"I'm sorry, Theron," Nine says, swiveling in her chair toward him, "but I really can't hear you, you know."
He makes a face, then holds up the teacup and mouths the word awful.
She sighs. "It's supposed to be good for you, according to Lana. I never promised it would taste good."
"Cruel woman," he rasps, setting the cup down on the bedside table and pulling the blankets up to his chin; he's feverish again, probably, can feel a flush rising in his cheeks but somehow he's still freezing. "I'm already sick, and now you're letting Lana poison me."
She's probably going to say it serves him right. It does serve him right, really, pushing too hard, too much work and not enough sleep but still, he can't remember the last time he felt this awful that wasn't from being shot or blown up or thrown headfirst into something. Coronet City was under quarantine for a reason, she'll say. It's only a cold, but-
He sneezes.
Setting her datapad aside, her expression softening, she picks up a stack of clean handkerchiefs- he's gone through an alarming number of them today already, an ever-growing wadded heap littering the floor beside the bed- and climbs the steps to the sleeping area. "I can get you some soup, if you'd rather?"
"No, thanks." It comes out a croak- so much for all the calls he's got to make. "Not hungry."
"You-" she sits down beside him, drops the handkerchiefs in his lap and twines her arms around his neck; stripped down to her shirtsleeves, her bare skin's warm and he leans in, like if he presses in enough he could draw enough heat off her body to finally stop shivering- "have to eat something. You know what they say- feed a fever, starve a-"
"'s a dumb saying.'" He closes his eyes. "Doesn't work if it's a cold and a fever."
She smiles, he thinks; he can feel it against the back of his neck. "Fair point. Now go to sleep, you grump."
"I will," he says, a hoarse whisper. "Kiss me first, though?"
She does, her mouth brushing sweet and gentle against dry lips, a second one against his forehead-
-and then she crinkles her nose, turns her head just in time to snatch up one of the handkerchiefs and sneezes.
Uh-oh.