Mitch felt like absolute shit. Anyone could see that from a mile away. He was as pale as Scott, and clammy from head to toe. He was freezing, like he had hypothermia, and he his head was pounding, like someone was smashing it.

He really thought this would have gone away the other day, but looking at his reflection in the mirror, he could see how disgusting and weak he looked. Trying to clean up the apartment before Scott got back seemed like a daunting task to him now.

The blonde had gone out earlier, kissing Mitch's forehead as he said goodbye, wanting to kiss him on the lips, but he managed to dodge that. The confused look on Scott's face quickly disappeared as Mitch smiled at him and pushed him out the door. No way was he getting Scott sick.

It would be catastrophic if Scott got sick. He was always busy with band meetings, singing and playing, or out with his friends, he would be depressed if he got sick. Scott hated being sick.

Besides, it was best that Scott was out of the house as much as possible right now. Mitch was a walking germ fest, and getting his boyfriend sick was a very high possibility at this point. He didn't want to bother him either. Mitch didn't want to be anymore of a nuisance than he already had been for some time now.

It seemed like Mitch was keeping Scott home a lot more often now, between his family coming for a visit, cleaning the apartment, or even rearranging the place, which Mitch thought looked fantastic by the way, but he knew the man was itching to get out of the apartment and if Scott was kept in there any longer he would flip, and Mitch knew it. Everyone needs a break from each other at some point in time.

Now though, Mitch was trying to not fall over as he stumbled in and out of the kitchen, putting things away and wiping things down. Scott had some friends over last night and Mitch knew, even though he was laying down because he already felt like shit then.

It was more than a little annoying because they stumbled in around midnight, being obnoxiously loud. Mitch knew they were drunk, and he couldn't blame him really, since it was his first night out in a while. He had tried to drown them out with some earplugs, but it didn't work so well.

Mitch woke up that morning to the place basically being torn apart. He was going to yell at Scott, but he didn't have the heart too since the tall man had managed to get in bed with him sometime last night, arms wrapped about his waist, face nuzzled into his neck.

He was in the middle of trying to clean up the living room, putting their vinyls away, when a sudden wave of nausea flooded over him. He covered his mouth and ran to the bathroom, astonished that he even made it in time. The next thing he knew his vision was blurry and he gripping the toilet bowl with his slightly shaking hands as tightly as he could. His throat was burning as the vile substance came pouring out of him. This blinding, white hot feeling inched it's way through his body, making him whimper.

It didn't last too long, but his stomach kept clenching, and he tried to get all the contents out of his body, but there was nothing left to throw up seeing as he hadn't ate or drank anything all day. Now he was just heaving into a bowl, and it was horrendous. Maybe he was being a big baby for crying, but he couldn't help it as the tears started to come.

"Mitch?!" A loud voice called out from behind him.

He wanted to get up, look presentable, like nothing had happened, but his stomach was yelling at him to puke, but the more he tried, the more he couldn't. The steps behind him were coming closer, rushing to where he was.

He felt his heart pounding, and his stomach finally settling some as the tears continued to flow. He felt a warm hand on his back, one running softly through his hair. He took a deep breath in a tried to regain his composure.

"Babe, hey." Scott's soft voice captured his attention as he quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

His wide, brown eyes turned to look at the man who was kneeling down next to him, his gentle hands still on his body.

"What's wrong love, what happened?"

Well shit. This isn't what was supposed to happen. Scott was supposed to be out with friends all day, not home with him. He didn't want Scott to feel trapped at home with him, this was exactly what he'd been trying to prevent.

"Uh, nothing. I just-" He tried to ignore the pain in his stomach, but he had no choice but to grab at the bowl again, heaving into it.

He hated this, but more than anything he hated having Scott see him like this. It was humiliating to say the least. He knew he looked awful. He was as pale as a ghost and his hair had to have been going in every possible direction. He looked like the icon of death and Scott was seeing him like this. He hated it.

"It's alright babe, you'll be alright." Scott whispered as he continued running his fingers through Mitch's hair.

Mitch backed away from the toilet, tears still coming from his eyes. He was done now. He got up slowly, not realizing his legs would be too weak to hold his body weight and he came falling into Scott.

"Mitch! Good lord." Scott had yelled, but the room was spinning and Mitch couldn't really fixate on what was happening. He knew Scott had lifted him up, had laid him down on the bed, had been saying other things to him, but none of it felt real. It all sort of felt like a dream.

He rubbed at his eyes to try to get the room to stop spinning and coughed because his throat was burning as he felt Scott place a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

"Mitch, why didn't you tell me you were sick?" Scott whispered, sounding mostly like he was questioning himself, and he looked over to Scott only to see him walk back into the bathroom.

Mitch sighed and tried to sit up, but his headache was getting worse and he was dizzier than ever. The nauseous feeling was coming back, but it wasn't as bad so he knew he could hold it down this time.

Scott came back with some medicine, a glass of water, and a warm washcloth, along with surprised eyes and a frown.

"What do you think you're doing? Lay back down." Scott shook his head, as he pushed the brunette back down until he was resting on the pillows. Mitch sighed out, closing his eyes and feeling Scott put the warm washcloth on his forehead.

"Really, I'm fine Scott." He lied. He wasn't sure why he even bothered trying, anyone could see he was sick, especially Scott, who knew him so well. He knew he failed when Scott rolled his eyes.

"Yeah right Mitchie, you're burning up and there's no color in your face." He said, as he ran the back of his hand across Mitch's cheek, feeling the heat radiating off his small body. Mitch was shivering despite how warm he felt, and it broke Scott's heart because he knew how awful he was feeling.

"Aren't you going out with friends? You said you were."

Scott shook his head again as he tried to get Mitch to drink a sip of water to help his throat. Mitch pushed his hand away, trying to sit up again.

"I'm fine, I swear."

"You're not fine, and you're going to lay back down and listen to me."

This wasn't what he wanted. He was fine, and now Scott would be stuck at home taking care of him.

"Mitch please. You're sick and I just want to take care of my baby, okay?" Scott whispered gingerly and Mitch bit his lip.

"I just- I just wanted you to be able to get out of the house and have fun, but now you'll be stuck here with me, taking care of me, and that's selfish of me, and then you'll probably get sick, and I don't want you getting sick, and I don't want to bother you and-" Mitch was rambling and his voice was trying not to give out.

His desperate and upset tone was breaking Scott's heart more, as he shook his head side to side, keeping his eyes on Mitch's. He smiled at him, took his hand and kissed it.

"Babe, you a not a bother to me, first of all," he started, and Mitch bit his lip again, turning his head away, but Scott was having none of that and gently grabbed his chin, turning his head to face him again, "and I'm more upset you didn't tell me you were sick. Sweetie, what if something happened while I was gone? If I hadn't of been there when you fell in the bathroom? I'd never forgive myself." He sighed and pushed the boy over to lay down next to him.

Mitch was crying all over again. He felt like shit, being a big baby and feeling stupid, all while Scott was being the perfect boyfriend. He covered his face with the pillow.

Scott chuckled a bit as he threw the pillow off the bed and pulled Mitch into his chest, running his fingers along the sick man's spine.

"I'm sorry Scott." He whimpered and Scott pulled back just enough to kiss him on his forehead.

"Don't be. I know you were only thinking of me, and while that was nice, I want you to remember that you come first before anything else in my life."

Mitch smiled wide as his heart nearly exploded from Scott's words.

"You're gonna get yourself sick if you keep kissing me like that." Mitch informed him and Scott only laughed and kissed him again.

"I don't care. Then we can both be sick and I can kiss you anytime I want, and as often as I want." He told him, nuzzling his face into Mitch's hair.

Mitch rolled his eyes.

"You're such a cheeseball, you know that?" Mitch laughed at him but Scott hugged him tighter.

"Only for you, my love."