I felt like absolute shit. My head hurt, I could barely keep my eyes open and my boss was breathing down my neck. To make it worse, I wouldn't get to see Carlisle tonight; he was at some stupid dinner party with some mutual friends between him and Alistair, and I quiet literally didn't have the guts to go with him. I was on the brink of throwing a tantrum; I just wanted to go home and bury myself under as many blankets as I could.

I left my boss's office biting my lip to hold back tears, storming back to my desk and picking up my phone.

'I know you're busy, but can I stay with you tonight? I miss you."

The five minutes he took to reply had me hiding in the bathroom just to avoid everyone.

'Of course. Are you okay?'

I sighed in relief; maybe all this wouldn't feel so awful once I had my arms around him. 'Having a really shitty day.'

'Love you. I'll fix it tonight.'

Was that supposed to be a dirty text? I didn't know, although judging by who had sent it, probably not. Either way, I wasn't complaining.

.

.

By lunch time, I felt like death was inevitable. I wanted my bed, and I wanted my boyfriend, but neither thing I could have for another six or so hours. During my break, I just folded my arms against my desk, resting my head on top of them and squeezing my eyes shut against the suddenly too harsh lighting.

I only realised I'd drifted off to sleep when someone placed their hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently, and I prepared to be disembowelled for not doing my job.

"Hey, I brought you coffee. You okay?" Carlisle kissed my cheek as I looked up to see who it was, rubbing my back when I immediately hugged him.

I nodded slowly, calmer now I had him with me. "Yeah, I'm fine, I guess. Just stressed." Taking a sip of the warm drink, I was thankful for the heat, but it made my throat hurt which led to me coughing. Unfortunately, I didn't think it was the liquid that make swallowing so painful.

Sitting in the seat next to me, effectively kidnapping it from one of my co-workers, he ran his fingers through my hair to get it off my face. "You sure? You don't look good."

"Thanks for bring that to my attention," I teasing, coughing again.

"Garrett," he sighed, holding the back of his hand against my forehead. It felt nice, and I immediately leant against him as it soothed my head ache.

"I hate my boss…" I just wanted to go home and feel sorry for myself now. And take him with me, of course.

"I know, but are you sick? I think you might have a fever?"

"I kind of don't feel that well," I admitted. "My head hurts…"

Kissing the side of my face, he smiled worriedly. "Have you eaten today?"

"Carlisle, I cant, you know-"

"Shh, I haven't forgotten," he soothed, gently squeezing my thigh. "I just need to know if I'm making dinner for someone who's had more than a couple of cups of coffee or not tonight."

I shook my head, guilty. "You're going out with Alistair, remember."

"Not if you're feeling awful, I'm not," he argued.

"Carlisle, he'll kill me if you stay home because of me…Just go have fun with your friends, and come to bed later?" I didn't want to be the asshole who ruined their night. "Please?"

He sighed, wrapping his arms around me, nodding anyway. Digging something out of his pocket, he handed me a key. "You go straight to bed, okay?" Another gentle kiss. "Dinner finishes at eight thirty, so I'll be home then. And call me if you need me?"

I nodded, already hating myself for not admitting defeat and keeping him with me. Glancing at the clock, I repressed a sigh and stood up. "And you're going to have to leave before my boss yells at you too." I held his hand as we walked to the door, ignoring the interested glances of my co-workers. This was the first time they'd ever had a glimpse of my life outside of work. "I'll see you later."

"Okay, Garrett. I love you." He apparently didn't have the same qualms as I did about kissing me while I was sick, hugging me and kissing me goodbye before stepping into the elevator.

I turned around to find a couple of the women I worked with grinning at me, and felt my face grow hot.

"Who's the cute boy?" one of the asked, obviously curious. "Boyfriend?"

"Ah…yeah, Carlisle," I told them carefully, a little more confident as I recognised open jealousy on their faces. "I'm gay, by the way." I don't know why I felt the need to them that, but it made them chuckle anyway.

"You should bring him by more often."

"Maybe I want to keep him all to myself," I teased, grinning now.

"Can see why," she grumbled. "The boy is gorgeous."

"My boy," I clarified, rubbing it in a little.

"Your boy," she repeated, unamused.

.

.

By the time I made it back to his flat, I felt like I'd been hit by a bus. My whole body ached, my head throbbed and my throat burnt. Using the key he'd given me, I unlocked the front door and stumbled into the kitchen. On the table, in his beautifully scrawled handwriting, was a note explaining that there was soup in the fridge, pain killers and water beside the bed, and, of course, that he loved me. It made me smile, if nothing else.

I wasn't sure I could face eating, and I was so tired I just wanted to get in bed. I shed as much clothing as I could be bothered, kicked off my shoes and fell between the sheets, passing out seconds later.

.

.

Cool fingers brushed my hair off my face, and I leant against his hand. "…Carlisle…" I mumbled in realisation, too sleepy to look at him.

"Yeah," he murmured, kissing my cheek. "Did you manage to eat?"

"…No…I don't feel good…"

"Okay." Holding his hand against my forehead, he sighed quietly. "Can you take something for your fever, though? You're really warm." His voice was soft and comforting, and I could have slept again if he'd kept his palm there any longer.

Once I had nodded, I heard him grab the pills off the bedside table, handing them to me and guiding my hand to my mouth when I fumbled to do it myself. The smooth edge of a glass touched my lips, and the cold liquid felt good as it rushed down my throat. "…what time is it?"

"Just before seven. Let's get some of this off you, okay? You won't sleep well." Starting to unbutton my shirt, he managed to get me out of it with no help on my behalf, and immediately the cold air bit at my skin.

"…Carlisle…" I whined, wrapping my arms around myself.

"I know, not for long," he promised, kissing the top of my head.

I didn't want to open my eyes; the light stung even with them shut. I wriggled out of my pants when Carlisle instructed me to, sighing in relief when he wrapped me in the blankets again. "…Stay…?" I asked him.

Another kiss. "Let me have a shower first, and then I'll come straight to bed," he told me.

.

It was the longest ten minutes of my life. I listened to the water running, and then shut off, but somewhere between that and him coming to me, I fell asleep again.

I woke up as he slid under the blankets and immediately wrapped my arms around him. He still smelled like the soap that he used, and fresh laundry, and that in it's self was comforting to me. "…You came home early…" I mumbled in realisation.

"Yeah, I was worried about you," he murmured, squeezing me tightly for a second before rubbing my arm. "Get some sleep. You look exhausted."

He certainly didn't have to ask twice.

.

.

My head was throbbing when I woke up, and I pulled a pillow over my ears to block out the sound, groaning. Carlisle leant over to kiss my neck, rubbing my side. "I'll tell them to shut up," he assured me quietly, already starting to crawl out of bed. "They all got a little too drunk and stayed over last night."

"Your friends?" I questioned warily.

"Yeah. They're all good people, but you don't have to meet them today, if you're not feeling up to it."

"…maybe in an hour or so? When I can function like a human being?" I was way to sleepy to meet anybody new just yet.

Except an hour rolled into three hours. And then it was lunch time. My head was killing me; even sitting with Carlisle in his room with the door shut, the voices of the boys in the longue were still too loud. Eventually, I couldn't handle it anymore, even if leaving meant losing Carlisle for a while. I just needed to get out.

"Hey, um, I think I might go home," I told him quietly, wincing as I sat up.

"They're too noisy," he sighed, rubbing my leg.

I nodded guiltily. "…I need to sleep this off…"

"Can I come with you, or…?" He was shy about it, which was odd, but it was sweet all the same.

Breathing a sigh of relief that I could keep him after all, I quickly agreed. I stood up too fast, and the room spun. Carlisle's hands were immediately on my waist, steadying me.

I had hoped to get to the front door without them noticing me, but I was called out the minute I stepped out of the hallway.

"So, this is the infamous Garrett! We've heard so much about you." The guy that spoke seemed out of place compared to Carlisle and Alistair; broad shouldered, shortly cut dark hair and a somewhat arrogant smirk. Out of the three strangers in the room, he was the biggest, and definitely the loudest. I recognised his voice as the one I could hear clearly when I was in bed earlier. They all looked roughly my age.

Alistair was laughing, trying to hide it by taking a sip of his coffee, but given away by his grin as Carlisle grumbled for the boy to shut up.

"All good things, I hope," I replied, trying not to cough in the process.

"This is Emmett," my boyfriend told me. "Ignore everything he says; he's a class A dickhead."

"You love me," he protested, clearly pleased with the scene he was making.

Carlisle ignored him, gesturing to the other two. "Edward and Jasper." He was really nervous, fidgeting and eventually giving up and holding my hand. It earned a wolf-whistle from Emmett, and a laugh from Alistair and Jasper as Carlisle's face reddened and he looked away. Edward, who I judged to be a little more reserved, offered him a reassuring smile, greeting me politely.

"You should have come to dinner, Gar. Your boy is more fun when he's drunk," Emmett commented, unable to let it slide.

"Ah, not unless you want my plague, no." Talking irritated my throat, and I ended up coughing again, almost on cue to prove my point. I also hoped the nickname wouldn't stick; I did not need to be called 'Gar' for the next year.

"You okay? Do you want a drink?" Carlisle immediately asked me, his arm around my waist.

"Yeah, I'll get it," I assured him, kissing his forehead. It wasn't a good move, judging by the whoop it caused. I was starting to get a little dizzy, wanting to sit down but needing to go somewhere quiet.

"Oh, you two are definitely fucking," he continued, earning an elbow in the ribs from Edward as Carlisle shifted uncomfortably.

"Not in the kitchen, though," I clarified, stumbling through the door and out of sight. Although the joke went over the heads of three of them, it got a hearty laugh out of Alistair who had given up trying to be discreet about his amusement. Choking back coughs, I quickly grabbed a glass and filled it with water, hoping the liquid might sooth the scratchy feeling in my throat.

Someone came in behind me, and I assumed it to be my boyfriend. When I turned, however, Alistair was leaning against the bench. "You're going home, are you?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, and I'm stealing your flatmate again, sorry."

He just shrugged, grinning a little. "That doesn't surprise me; feeding him to the wolves doesn't make him want to stay."

"…Are they nice to him? He seemed worried?"

There was a pause where he considered his answer. "They get on well with him, but he's nervous you won't like them; consider this you meeting his parents. You're going to have a hard time winning them over though, unless you're going to drink with them."

Either way, they were a whole lot nicer to me than my parents were to Carlisle. I was overly relieved that I didn't have to go through that; I could handle meeting a bunch of rowdy boys. "I'll give them their drink when I don't feel like I'm about to die," I promised.

His smile fell. "Do you want me to drive you home, then? I don't want you passing out behind the wheel." Alistair doing something nice? What the fuck?

"Um…actually that would be great," I admitted, a little awkward. "I can, ah, get you a coffee or something on the way, if you want?"

He shook his head. "Na, the soon you get back in bed the better, by the looks of it…Besides, you make Carlisle happy. That's enough," he told me quietly, almost in a whisper to avoid the others hearing. He spoke again before I could comment on what he'd just said. "But we'd better rescue him before the boys interrogate him into oblivion."