I'm amazed that anyone is still here after twenty two chapters, and CentauRita you never fail to make my day (:
Carlisle's relief to be away from the three of them was almost laughable, although he was immediately on edge to find out Alistair was driving. His complete paranoia toward having his flatmate too close to me would have made me suspicious, had he been anyone else, but I trusted Carlisle to tell me the truth. I assumed he just didn't want Alistair to spring something on me when neither of us were ready; it was the same reason I was keeping him distanced from Eleazar.
"Are you two bribing each other? Did you lose a bet, Alistair? Is this a kidnapping?" he guessed, rattling off a list of possibilities. It was hard to know whether he was kidding.
"No. I'm driving because I've never seen you with a driver's license, and because I didn't want Garrett to sneeze and throw you both over a cliff."
He laughed at that. "Are you sure you don't have a little crush on Gar, Allie?"
"Shut up," both Alistair and I snapped at the same time.
"That name is not going to be a thing, ever," I clarified sternly. Carlisle was giggling, pleased with himself and obviously not about to heed my warning. "Your friends seem nice, anyway," I continued, trying to distract him.
"They're terrible, and you know it," he grumbled, rolling his eyes but still smiling.
"Well, Edward seemed nice, then. I can live without Emmett."
Alistair grinned. "Carlisle thought Edward was 'nice' too, when he first moved over here from London."
Despite my pounding head ache, the 'kill me now' expression on my boyfriend's face made an explanation irresistible. "Oh?"
"Hmm." Apparently that was all I was getting out of Carlisle.
Alistair, however, wasn't going to fail me when it came to gossip. "I got to listen to his whiney school-girl crush drama for months-"
"I said he was cute one time," Carlisle interrupted. "You're such a shit-stirrer."
I just laughed as his flatmate repeated his version of the story to me in a stage-whisper, clearly overheard by Carlisle who was pretending not to hear. "You two didn't work out, then?" I asked, both curious and hoping that his answer might lead to further trouble. Alistair and I made a good team when it came to tormenting Carlisle, I thought.
"Because he's straight," he grumbled under his breath.
"Or so he says," Alistair continued. "He obviously has a soft spot for you."
"He'd engaged to a girl, you asshole."
"Oh, I remember, Carlisle. You spent about a week sulking after you found out."
He rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut, knowing that whatever he said wasn't going to make anything better.
Alistair glanced over at me and we made eye contact, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing as my boyfriend's face reddened slightly. It was only so long before his flatmate couldn't resist another jab. "You didn't smile as much for him as you do for Garrett, though."
That appeared to sit worse than any of the other teasing before. "Shut the actual fuck up." His cheeks flushed and he avoided eye contact with both of us, suddenly shy as he buried his face in his hands. He looked cute like that though, and judging by Alistair's expression, he thought so too.
Alistair dropped us off and declined my invitation to come in – thank god; I was going to cry if I had to stay up any longer. I was on autopilot as we reached my apartment, downing as many painkillers as I was allowed and hurrying straight to bed. Blankets weren't really a priority of mine, but Carlisle pulled them out from underneath me anyway, covering me up again and getting on the bed with me. He stayed sitting up, leaning against the headboard and playing with his phone, and I cuddled closer, resting my head against his legs just as an excuse to be touching him. The weight of his free hand on my shoulder was enough to leave me contented.
.
.
It was dark outside the next time I opened my eyes. "What's the time?" I mumbled to Carlisle, smothering a yawn which threatened to transform into a cough.
"Six," he told me softly, aware of my hate of loud noises.
Groaning, I rubbed my face. "Do you want to watch TV or something?" I assumed he was board shitless by now.
"Can you tolerate the sound?" he asked, rubbing the top of my arm.
"I think so, just don't make me move." I reached over to the bedside table and snatched up the remote, passing it to him. "…Or expect me to stay awake…" Shutting my eyes, I was quickly falling asleep again.
.
.
Although my throat felt raw and I had the worst headache I'd had in a long time, I didn't feel so awful lying with my head in Carlisle's lap. He ran his fingers through my hair, his other hand resting on my shoulder as we sat on the bed together. I wasn't even sure what the movie was called anymore; he was making me sleepy and I couldn't concentrate. It was after eight now, and I was trying to stay awake long enough to provide him with a bit of company.
"Carlisle…stay tonight?" I asked, trying to stop my speech slurring.
"Of course," he promised, squeezing my shoulder. "Do you want me to get us some dinner?"
I groaned, but agreed. "…kay…"
He leant down to kiss my forehead. "I'll be back soon then."
I wrinkled my nose; it was late and he was cute to be alone in the dark in this neighbourhood. There was no way I wanted him walking around outside at this time of night. And I wanted him with me. "…Wait…just order something that can be delivered…?"
He made me choose, seeming as I was the one lacking an appetite at the moment. I had rolled my eyes at him; he picked at meals like a fucking bird. I may not be able to eat in front of people, but his definition was dinner would barely be considered a snack in my family. It was an issue for another day, though.
I'd chosen Indian, hoping that a decent curry might flush whatever bug this was out of my system. It didn't go down well with my throat, but the warmth and spice was nice. I was glad I'd taken the day off work; I would have died if I hadn't, and my boss wouldn't have been sympathetic in the removal of my corpse come five o'clock. "You took the day off for me," I realised suddenly, shaking my head at Carlisle.
"I, ah, swapped it to work on Sunday instead," he admitted. "I didn't want you to have to do anything while you weren't feeling well."
"But I still get you all day tomorrow?" I clarified.
"I'm all yours, Gar."
"You're lucky you're a good cuddler, or I'd be throwing you out that door," I grumbled, rolling my eyes.
.
.
I'd been drifting in and out of consciousness for over an hour, but hadn't made any solid plans to actually get out of bed yet. It was still relatively early for a Saturday – nine AM – in my opinion, at least. I was surprised Carlisle hadn't tried to get me up yet, but he was still asleep, for all intents and purposes. When I'd shifted slightly a little while back, he'd quickly curled up against my side again, his head against my shoulder and his arms around my waist. I was barely aware enough to realise that with the way we were lying together, the circulation in my arm was being cut off and my hand was filling with pins and needles. It didn't bother me enough to move it though; I knew if I did, I'd wake Carlisle up. He may have been asleep, but the tiniest movement woke him up at the best of times, let alone at a time when he was usually up and out of bed. Sometimes it was like sleeping with a puppy; how he ever actually got any rest with me moving about all the time was a mystery to me.
The sun was streaming in through a crack in the curtain, a beam of bright light across part of the bed. I wondered how he wasn't overheating, under too many blankets, lying in the sun and against my side. Thankfully, the beam avoided me, or I'd be sweating. The way the light fell on him make his hair a little more golden than usual, and I couldn't resist using my free hand to brush it back off his face.
The small touch was enough to render him vaguely conscious again, and he offered me a sleepy smile, kissing the base of my neck. "Hey…"
"Hey." I kissed his forehead, partly pleased to have him awake but kind of missing being able to watch him sleep for a while.
He started to sit up to get his phone, but quickly abandoned the task upon realising just how tangled in the blankets he was. "…what's the time?"
"Just after nine." I kissed him again, unable to help myself, and he moved to free my arm.
"…mm…you're making me lazy…" he teased, kissing my collarbone and working his way up until our lips met.
I laughed quietly, rolling onto my back and pulling him on top of me. It wasn't difficult, even when he wasn't fully cooperating; he was littler than me. "Maybe, but you love it," I teased back.
"…I do..." The next kiss against my neck was a little more of a bite, and I squeezed him in response, making him laugh.
"Don't you leave a mark where I can't hide it; I can't imagine my boss being too appreciative." I ran my hands up his sides, sliding my fingers under his shirt.
"…You're the one wearing too many clothes…" he accused, his lips against the same spot again, but very gentle this time. "Are you feeling any better?"
"Am I?" I teased, tugging his shirt to draw attention to it. "And yeah, I feel good, actually."
He nodded, melting into me and returning the situation back into something more innocent; I couldn't undress him while was like this. "…I'm cold…" he offered in explanation, a little guilty.
I laughed, unable to help it. "You're always cold."
He put his hand on my leg suddenly, his fingers against my inner thigh, and I jerked back in surprise. It wasn't a lie; his hands were goddamn freezing. He laughed at my reaction and kissed my cheek.
"I'm sure we could find a way to quickly warm you up again." I was sure he was purposefully winding me up now, his hand resting on my hip. Asshole. Bring our lips together again, I tried to do the same to him.
"A hot shower sounds nice, actually." He sat up quickly, rolling over to get out of bed.
"Carlisle!" I grabbed his hand, pulling him back toward me and wrapping my arms around his waist so he was trapped. He had his back to me now, laughing as I squeezed him a little tighter. I kissed his shoulder, and then the base of his neck, his jaw, shifting him back to reach his lips. "So, sex before breakfast is off the cards, then?"
He turned him my arms, facing me again, and wrapped his arms around my neck, kissing me back with far more vigour than I was expecting. "Are you kidding? Of course it isn't. As long as you're up to it, of course."
.
.
An hour later, and I was watching my boy cook us breakfast, all the while pretending that I wasn't staring. It wasn't my fault he was exceptionally adorable with wet hair, or that I was such a gentleman that I didn't want my boyfriend to get cold again and had given him a jersey that was far too large on his little frame.
He eventually caught me out, rolling his eyes. "Next time you cook, I'm getting my revenge, Garrett," he threatened, swallowing a smile.
"Be my guest," I teased, not bothering to discreet anymore. "What do you want to do today, anyway?"
"Couldn't we just stay here, and, ah, 'cuddle'?" he teased. "I mean, I think you should still have forced bed rest. Excluding the rest part. Just in bed, really."
"You just don't want to go out in the rain," I accused.
"Well, do you want to go out there?" he countered, grinning now he knew he had me in a box. "You'll make your cold worse, Gar."
Oh, for fucks sake. "There's no chance of you dropping that name, is there?"
"Not in a million years."
"Great."
"Love you."
"Jerk."
"You want me to make it up to you?"
"You'd better."
Setting our plates down, he grinned at me across the table. "How's your stamina?"
I shoved a forkful of food into my mouth. "We'll find out after breakfast."