A pounding migraine greeted Alessandro as he awoke from a fitful slumber. His throat felt scratchy. Each swallow made it feel like glass was traveling down his esophagus. Brunet curls and loose clothing stuck to his sweaty body. Rhythmic thumping could be heard in his ears. It could also be felt in his sinuses thanks to a steadily worsening buildup of mucus.

Even with the room being protected by thick blackout curtains, any light that made its way past the fabric's openings was too bright—too painful to look at.

In an attempt to get a better grasp on himself, Alessandro took a deep breath. His inhale shifted into a gurgling wheeze that ended in a violent coughing fit.

Great.

He just had to get sick on the day of an important meeting.

It wasn't clear whether or not he had a fever, but he assumed that was what ailed him as everything felt hot. He was much warmer than what could rightfully be considered healthy.

The rational part of his brain told him to check his temperature to understand how bad the illness was. Another much larger part of him didn't want to acknowledge that he was horrendously sick.

Today wasn't one of those days where he could stay at home. That luxury couldn't be afforded— not when the schedule was so busy. Not when people needed and depended on him at work.

Stiff muscles screamed in protest with every slight movement. Green eyes were kept squinted as a means of trying to ignore bright light. Each pound in reddened ears exacerbated an already unpleasant migraine. Quiet footsteps were too loud. A usually tall, confident stature was drooped in clear discomfort.

This was definitely not a good start to the morning.

Raspy meows called after Alessandro on his way to the bathroom. He found it pathetic how even that was too much for him.

"It's okay, baby girl." His voice came out much hoarser than he thought it would. "Papa's just going to take a shower. Hopefully that'll help."

Cold bathroom tiles felt exquisite on the soles of his bare feet. An encompassing chilly temperature lingered in the room though. He shivered. Goosebumps ran up and down trembling arms.

Alessandro didn't bother turning on the light. His eyes were already accustomed to the dark, and he didn't want to risk worsening his migraine. Instead, he focused on getting to the stand up shower without collapsing like he desperately wanted to.

The shower head was switched from its normal setting to a softer one. Water came out almost silently and appeared like mist. Its temperature was kept on the cooler side. Sweat stained clothes were left on the padded bath mat near the shower's sliding door.

Harsh shivers became even more violent. Nausea began building. Every single uncomfortable sensation that Alessandro was feeling followed him into the shower.

*

He was glad to be wearing a face mask each time a particularly wet cough couldn't be stifled. Green eyes were focused on the floor as a means of ignoring the elevator's blinding light. White bulbs weren't that bright, but anything that wasn't total darkness hurt his head. Each blink brought about a moment of clarity before his vision started swimming again. It led to a series of sluggish, more frequent gestures of keeping his eyes closed.

Trembling fingers tightened around the handle of the briefcase once the elevator opened. Usually, Alessandro didn't mind the hustle and bustle of the office on Mondays. Today, he wanted to stick cotton in his ears to dampen every sound he could.

The facade of Mr. Bale attempted to stay in place by ignoring some worrying fever symptoms. Flushing of the face was hidden behind a literal mask. A thick trench coat hid a shivering torso and arms. Glossy, unfocused eyes were shielded by staying half lidded.

Alessandro noticed how the usual flock of employees didn't come to greet him. Being crowded as soon as he came in happened every day, especially when the week started.

Perhaps people took one look at his face mask and decided to give the man some space. While he didn't want to keep anyone at bay, he didn't want to get them sick either. So it was fine that everyone kept their distance.

"Morning, Steph."

"Good morning, Mr. Ba- oh my, are you all right?"

"Just feeling a little under the weather today."

"Are you sure you should actually be here? I think you should go home and rest."

"We have a lot of things that need to get done. It's fine. I'll be fine."

Stephan pursed his lips but didn't say anything else.

Alessandro was grateful for that.

He walked into his office and set down his belongings in their rightful places. Window blinds were kept closed. An electric fireplace was turned off. He didn't bother turning on the overhead lights because any rays of sun that managed to seep inside were enough to aggravate him.

Alessandro sat down at his desk. A queasy feeling forced him to continuously swallow, and it exacerbated the stinging sensation that lingered in his throat.

Hoping for a moment of reprieve, he rested his head on top of his arms. The sleeves of a fleece sweater were soft. The fabric felt nice against his clammy, sensitive skin.

He couldn't say for certain how much time passed—it could've been minutes or hours—but he didn't feel any better. If anything, the passage of time left Alessandro in a steadily declining state.

He really wanted to vomit, but there wasn't anything in his system since he hadn't eaten. He hadn't even stopped by the café to get a cup of coffee.

Honestly, the thought of doing anything was just too exhausting.

"Andro?"

He froze. Both at the familiar nickname that he hadn't heard in years and at the concerned, hushed voice that just called out to him.

Alessandro nearly jumped when a gentle hand settled on his shoulder. He forced himself to come out of hiding. His energy levels were still low, so he kept his head braced against his arms.

"Lance..? What're you doing here? You aren't scheduled to come in today."

"I know I got you a drink at the club the other night, but I still owed you a coffee." A tall disposable cup was set down beside him. "...Are you okay? You don't sound too hot."

"M'sick."

Before he had a chance to say anything else, a second hand settled on his forehead. Persistent cold made a home in Lance's fingertips. It felt heavenly. Alessandro couldn't help it when he melted into the delicate touch.

"Andro, it feels like you have a really bad fever. You shouldn't be in today."

"I know I shouldn't- but I have a lot to do. There's meetings and planning and-"

"And things that can be rescheduled for another day. Besides, it doesn't seem like you'd even be able to actually concentrate on anything. You look like you'll kill over if you sit up."

Alessandro didn't agree. It was how he felt though.

"I'm going to tell Stephan to clear your schedule for the day. I'm taking you home." Lance began walking to the office's doors.

"No- Lance- you don't need to-"

A series of violent coughs interrupted Alessandro's rebuttal, forcing him to brace himself against his knees.

His chest and throat burned. Tears started building in his eyes. The sounds of a door opening and people's voices could be heard, but they weren't clearly made out. Not with the loud thumping that rang in his ears.

A few moments passed, and two sets of firm hands settled against his back.

He found it embarrassing to be caught in the middle of a coughing/wheezing fit. "God- I- I'm sorry."

"You should be sorry to yourself for coming into work like this," Lance answered with a reprimanding tone.

"Lance-"

"He's right," Stephan cut in. "You really should've stayed home. I emailed the heads of the other departments to let them know you're leaving early. We can push everything to when you're not dying of an illness."

"Not dying-" More coughs interrupted the statement.

"Uh huh." Lance sighed. "Well, you can go ahead and keep not dying while I get you to your car."

"You've got my number. Text me if you guys need anything." Stephan added.

Alessandro sighed. He realized this was a battle he wasn't going to win and conceded by nodding.

His vision continued to swim as sudden dizziness was thrown at him with full force. Half lidded eyes shut completely in an attempt to push away the sensation. He was blindly led to the elevator. An arm wrapped around his waist to steady him.

The added support was comforting.

When settling into the passenger seat of the car, Alessandro shivered again. His briefcase was set atop his lap for some stability, and his trench coat was draped over the rest of his body as a makeshift blanket.

Partial attention was given to Lance when he asked for the address to the Bale residence. Alessandro didn't completely remember giving it. He barely remembered when the car started moving. He only found himself coming back to a state of half consciousness when Lance fished out the house keys.

Everything was placed inside before Alessandro made his way in as well. A second set of arms helped to keep him upright.

A quiet greeting was given to Rain as she approached the two men. It seemed she could tell something was wrong because her little raspy meows became a bit more frantic.

"You're overheating," Lance said as they got into the bedroom, "so I'm going to strip you down to your underwear. Is that all right?"

"I- I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Aside from other tattoos if you have them, it isn't anything I haven't already seen."

Alessandro supposed that was true.

He sat down on the bed with a sigh. Delicate hands were used to get him out of everything but a pair of black boxer briefs. His mask was almost pulled off too. A slight turn of the head kept it from happening.

"I don't want to get you sick."

"Then I'll wear a mask. I don't want you scrambling to get it off if you end up having to throw up, Andro."

To show he was being serious, Lance retrieved a face mask for himself and put it on. Only then did Alessandro allow for his to be pulled off.

It felt nice to be able to breathe freely. As free as a stuffy nose and chest congestion would allow, at least.

The coffee from earlier was placed into quaking hands. Faint warmth could be felt through the styrofoam. It was hard to tell whether the heat came from a bitter drink or an unnatural body temperature.

After bringing the cup to his lips, Alessandro let out a gentle whimper. The beverage was actually lukewarm, but faint traces of heat were enough to bring some comfort to his dry esophagus.

"Drink slow. I'm going to find something for you to eat." Lance turned to walk out of the room.

"You don't have to do this, y'know. If you're busy, you don't have to stay and help me. I can get through this on my own."

"I know you can. Doesn't mean you have to."

A smile was thrown Alessandro's way. The expression was small and endearing, and the same softness could be seen in a pair of bluish gray eyes.

It made him feel even warmer than he already was. A fluttering sensation wove through his gut and was partially taken as momentary queasiness.

Small sips were taken out of the coffee. Not much time passed in doing so, but it was set back down on the closest nightstand when nausea became a little too much to handle.

Alessandro tried to ignore an encompassing want to throw up. He laid back against his mattress, snuggling into the warmth of a fluffy comforter. Rain took refuge behind his back. A faint sizzling could be heard coming from the kitchen. A stuffy nose made it impossible to smell anything.

Even so, the thought of Lance cooking was delightful. The act was extremely intimate but still nice all the same.

Alessandro hoped, and doubted, that he'd be able to taste the meal being prepared for him. Even in a half conscious state, he remembered a few times back in high school when he and Lance shared home ec. A majority of that class consisted of learning how to cook.

While Alessandro was okay at crafting recipes, Lance was particularly gifted. Everything he made tasted like heaven, whether it be a simple breakfast or an attempt at a homemade cake.

It was one of many heartfelt memories the two shared that hadn't been thought about in ages, fond recollection being lost to time spent away from one another.

"You still awake?"

Lance walked in with two plates in hand, one probably for himself. He was carrying portions of scrambled eggs with chives sprinkled on both sets of food.

One was placed on top of Alessandro's lap. He didn't make a sound when a second body joined him in bed. Instead, his main focus stayed on eating at a snail's pace.

Aside from scraping forks against plates, the room was quiet. It was silent enough to hear the rustling of leaves outside. They could even make out quiet ripples which came from the pool nearby.

Rain slept peacefully in between both men. A pale hand was settled against her side.

Alessandro hadn't experienced any form of domesticity with another person in a very long time. He wanted their moment to last.

But everything came crumbling down when he felt his stomach somersault.

He gulped. All of the blood left his face, and an uncomfortable amount of saliva started pooling in his mouth. Fast, deep breaths tore through his body. Heated skin felt too clammy.

A half eaten plate of eggs was abandoned on the nightstand. Quick steps were taken over to the bathroom. Moving in such a manner left Alessandro disoriented, but he couldn't really focus on anything in particular when he started vomiting.

His throat burned. His stomach clenched so violently, it immediately felt sore. His grip on the toilet was so hard, tan knuckles started losing their color. The sound of loud gagging and heaving was too much.

Hell, it was all too much. He just wanted everything to stop.

Hands raking against his back gave the support that Alessandro needed.

"It's all right, Andro. Just get it out. I'll make you something else later."

He wanted to apologize. He didn't want it to seem like the meal, which was probably delicious even if he couldn't taste it, was the reason for his vomiting.

The presence of bile spewing out of him made it hard to speak though. Each attempt at saying something was halted by intense gagging.

Alessandro was rooted to his spot until spastic convulsions in his stomach finally ceased. He braced himself against the toilet seat. Cool porcelain on his skin felt nice. As did the soft hands still running up and down his back.

"...Why Andro?"

"Huh?" Lance asked.

"Why'd you start calling me Andro again?"

"Oh- I- it just kind of came out earlier. Figured it didn't bother you. I can stop if you want."

"Please don't."

A beat of silence passed between them. The comforting rubs didn't stop.

"If you say so, Andro."

Their position was held until Alessandro was led over to the sink. He rinsed his mouth with some water and was guided back to bed.

Black spots continued to fill his vision. An already sensitive, aching throat felt even more raw. Without a cool compress being held against sensitive skin anymore, his temperature started climbing again. The feeling of being too hot was uncomfortable.

There was a passing thought of taking a dip in the pool despite it still being winter; but Alessandro figured that'd do more harm than good. That, and he honestly didn't think he'd have enough energy to swim or get out of the water.

Lying down didn't help much. It eased his dizziness, which in turn eased his nausea. At the same time though, having his head back forced thick mucus to run down his throat. Wet coughs were pushed out of him because of his position. The strenuous action also worsened his trembling. 

Despite feeling hot, his body was giving signals that it was too cold as well. The confusing set of mixed signals made him feel like he was melting and freezing at the same time.

At one point, Lance offered a few fever reducers. They were taken with some water and were promptly thrown back up a mere twenty minutes later.

He then offered a warm mug of tea with a generous amount of honey. While a steaming beverage was pleasant on a burning throat, the temperature caused thick nasal mucus to run. That alone was a rather messy outcome to deal with.

Something that was extremely helpful though, was a series of cool rags that were placed on Alessandro's forehead and neck. He was further relaxed by a set of slender fingers that gingerly wove through his hair. It was unclear if the gesture was done purposely or out of force of habit—because it used to be back in the day too—but it was a mannerism that helped everything slow down. 

Alessandro was even able to get a bit of sleep while in the presence of someone he...

Yeah, someone he trusted.

*

He woke up a few times throughout the day because it was just as hard staying asleep as it was staying awake. It was difficult remembering what transpired as delirium began to set in too. There were bits and pieces that stuck out, but nothing was substantial.

There was a lot of coughing. A lot of sneezing. A lot of whimpering in response to a hammering migraine. A lot of unpleasant body aches and chills. A lot of wanting to eat but being too afraid of throwing it back up.

He also remembered that—throughout everything—Lance remained calm, caring, and patient. He didn't try to force Alessandro to eat or drink if he didn't want to. Lance never made any motions to leave either.

His complete and undivided attention was on playing the role of caretaker. And he did a damn good job at it.

Alessandro became a bit more alert when he woke up again way later in the evening. He felt a bit more awake too. He didn't know what time it was, but the sky was dark. The room was almost completely pitch black.

His skin was still clammy. He was still too hot. His body still ached.

Even with a lingering fever induced delirium though, Alessandro could feel a warm body pressed against his own. A slender arm hung limply across his abdomen. Light snores filled the silence.

He knew he wasn't sleeping. But it'd been so long since he cuddled with someone else. Being held so tenderly made him feel like he was dreaming.