A Drabble A Day #11: Warmth
When Peter woke up the next morning, the first thing he realized was that he wasn't feeling feverish anymore. In fact, he felt a lot better than he had the previous night.
The second thing he noticed was that his partner in bed felt rather warm. Warmer than he was supposed to be. And sweaty.
"Oh shit," he muttered. "I'll never hear the end of this."
But I warned him! I did! a small voice in Peter's head reminded him.
He didn't have much time to think because the other man started to wake up, too. Claude sat up, running his fingers through strands of sweaty hair.
"What th' hell..." he mumbled. He started to cough harshly and swore under his breath. "Like a bloody sauna in here..."
"Claude, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I told you that this might happen-"
"Be quiet or I'll knock ya upside the head," he growled, his scratchy voice making Peter wince. "Now go get me some Tylenol or whatnot. Me head's killin' me."
Peter did as he was told and returned with some cold medicine. Claude downed the liquid in seconds and sat back on his pillow.
"Now I'm cold."
"I can... um... if you want..." A sort of teenage awkwardness struck Peter as he fumbled around with the blankets.
Claude rolled his eyes. "Come here."
Peter hurriedly got under the covers again, this time making sure he held onto the man just as tightly as the other had done the night before. He placed a soft kiss on his sweaty brow, making sure he was tucked in well underneath the blankets.
"You're like me mum," Claude remarked sleepily.
"What do you mean?"
"The way you're takin' care of me. 'Cept she wouldn't hold me like you do."
Peter smiled, kissing the man's forehead again. He had actually found a reason to be grateful for a winter epidemic.
A/N: Again, another triple drabble. I just love writing about people taking care of each other. Especially when one of them is a grouchy, old, pigeon-loving, invisible hermit and the other is a whiny, emo-haired, simple-minded empath.