When Anagan arrived at the office, he spotted Ogron slumped against the wall outside, his usually sharp appearance now disheveled. His skin had a sickly pallor, and he was visibly shivering despite the warm afternoon sun.
"Ogron!" Anagan rushed over, wrapping an arm around him. "You look terrible."
"Oh why thank you," Ogron mumbled sarcastically,rolling his eyes. "Just what I needed to hear."
Anagan chuckled softly. "Come on, let's get you home."
In the car, Ogron leaned his head against the window, eyes half-closed. Anagan glanced at him occasionally, his worry deepening with each passing minute. He noticed the beads of sweat forming on Ogron's forehead and how his breathing was shallow.
"Why didn't you tell me you were feeling this bad?" Anagan asked gently, keeping his eyes on the road.
"I thought it was just a cold. I didn't want to blow it out of proportion," Ogron muttered, his voice laced with fatigue. "I'm fine, really. Just need some rest."
Anagan sighed. "Ogron, you're clearly not fine. But don't worry, I'm going to take care of you."
They arrived at their home, and Anagan helped Ogron inside. The moment they were through the door,the redhead slumped onto the couch, looking utterly defeated. Anagan quickly grabbed a blanket and draped it over him.
"Alright, Mr. Tough Guy," Anagan teased softly. "Let me get you some water and medicine."
Ogron grumbled something incoherent but didn't protest. By the time Anagan returned with a glass of water and some pills, Ogron's eyes were already drooping shut.
"Take these," Anagan urged, sitting beside him and holding out the medicine.
Ogron reluctantly took the pills, swallowing them with a grimace. He leaned back into the couch, clearly exhausted. Anagan brushed a hand through Ogron's tousled hair, the touch comforting and familiar.
"You don't have to stay," Ogron mumbled, though the way he leaned into Anagan's touch suggested otherwise.
Anagan smiled softly. "I'm not going anywhere."
He grabbed a pillow and gently guided Ogron to lie down, his head resting in Anagan's lap. Ogron, too worn out to protest, allowed it. As soon as his head hit the pillow, his body relaxed, and he let out a deep, relieved sigh.
Anagan watched over him, his fingers absentmindedly running through Ogron's hair. For a while, the only sound in the room was the steady ticking of the clock and a soft, labored breathing.
As the minutes passed, Ogron shifted slightly, his hand finding its way to Anagan's . He held on weakly, his fingers curling around the other man's as if seeking reassurance.
Anagan squeezed back gently, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. "You're such a stubborn man," he whispered affectionately.
"Mhmm," Ogron hummed in agreement, eyes still closed but a faint smile tugging at his lips. "But I'm charming too."
Anagan chuckled softly, leaning down to place a tender kiss on Ogron's forehead. "Yeah, a stubborn, charming man."
Ogron's mile grew a little wider, his grip on Anagan's hand tightening slightly before he drifted off into a peaceful sleep, finally letting himself be taken care of.
Anagan stayed there, unmoving, content to watch over Ogron for as long as he needed. After all, it was his turn to be the strong one, and there was nowhere else he'd rather be.