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Sweetheart didn't have a good immune system, but they didn't have a bad system either. This was one of the moments where their body hated them and their immune system decided to attack itself. Someone at the DUMP offices had a bug and it found its way towards them quite violently.
So here they sat, laid is a better word for it, laid in their shared bedroom with Milo. Their bug turned from a simple cold to a virus in just a few hours and they were MISERABLE. Throat burning, hot then cold then hot again, and a cough that sounded like someone was standing on their lungs.
Sweetheart had been cooped up in their bedroom for four days now, cabin fever kicking in and their body was getting anxious from staying in the same room day in and day out.
So they groggily stood up, blanket wrapped around their shoulders like some sort of comfy wizard. Aggro trilled softly when the bedroom opened, he stretched and walked up to them. He butted his small head against their leg. Milo was in the dining room, his laptop in front of him.
“Who are you talkin’ to, Big Guy?” Milo’s voice was so warm and soft, like a fresh loaf of bread. Sweetheart turned the corner and shuffled into the kitchen, Aggro was now laying on the part of the blanket that was dragging on the floor.
“Well hello beautiful, what are you doing out of bed, baby?” Milo stood up and walked up to them. Sweetheart whined so pitifully and rested their head on his shoulder. Milo trailed his hand up their back to the back of their neck.
So warm like a loaf of bread.
Milo rubbed their shoulders and slowly backed away. “Let's get you some water and a snack, okay, Sweetheart?” His voice was sticky sweet like honey. He carefully guided them to the chair he was just sitting at and walked towards the fridge.
Sweetheart’s diet these past days consisted of: water, crackers, soup (thanks, Marie) and copious amounts of Advil, Tylenol, and Nyquil. So they were REALLY hoping the snack Milo was whipping up wasnt the new illness diet they had started four days ago.
“No more soup..” Sweetheart laid their head on the table, they were the most powerful stealth at DUMP, they have fought shades 4 times bigger than them, yet they were being whittled down by the flu.
“No more soup? Why? Is my ma’s soup too good for you, my rough ‘n tough investigator?” Milo turned from the stove and smirked at them. “Well it won't be soup so don't worry baby. When I uh.. When I was sick my ma made me mac ‘n’ cheese sometimes.” Milo turned back to the stove. Sweetheart smiled, they loved hearing about his childhood.
“So are you making me mac ‘n’ cheese?” They mumble out, pulling the blanket over their head (Against Aggro’s chagrin as he falls off the blanket). Milo chuckles softly and nods.
“Would you be shocked? Some home cooked food would probably do you some good. No offense to my ma or anythin’ but you need something that isn't straight radiation.” The pot Milo hovered over smelt so so so delicious, well delicious to Sweetheart. “We didn't have much growin’ up but my ma' made sure I neva’ went to bed hungry, eva’. Good ol’ pops sure was gamblin’ my college funds but my ma' made food that would make grown men weep.” Milo looked over his shoulder to peek at his mate. Sweetheart’s head rested on the table, blanket still covering their face from the evil bright kitchen lights.
Aggro paced in-between Milo's legs, purring and trilling with each baby step. Milo turned back to the pot and gently tapped the spoon on the rim, just enough to knock some sauce off and not be loud for the raging storm that was his mate's migraine.
“Why don't you go back to bed baby? The lights gotta be botherin’ your head,” he set the spoon down and walked over to his hunched over mate. Sweetheart whined softly, sitting up with their eyes closed.
“I'm so tired of being in there. I wanted to walk around like a little victorian child begging for soup Mi’.” they held out their hands, cupping them like a bowl. “Please sir can i ‘ave some more?” they joked meekly then coughed. Their lungs felt like fire and their cough sounded phlegmy.
“I get it baby but you aren't getting any betta’ if you are walkin’ around ‘n talkin’,” Milo rubbed their shoulders, and kissed their forehead. Their skin felt so hot, like lava, soft lava if you will. “I will bring you the mac while you lay in bed.” he hummed softly, thumbs rubbing a knot that Sweetheart had struggled to reach for weeks.
Sweetheart whined, leaning into Milo’s hands like putty. Their body was so sore from work and laying still for days. “Fine.. but make it fast because I need food and I can't take anything until I eat.” They stood up slowly, head throbbing and body achey.
“I will, don't worry. Just go back to bed, I'll be there in a bit, my love.” He kissed their cheek and rubbed their forearms. Sweetheart nodded and shuffled back to their shared bedroom, Aggro followed close behind, trying to get on the moving blanket once again. He meowed and hopped on their bed waiting for Sweetheart. They slowly crept onto the bed, eyes barely open. The dark room was so much more welcoming than the evil bright kitchen.
Aggro butted his head against their forearm, begging for the pets he has been DENIED for days due to the illness that swept over Sweetheart. They laid down and curled into a ball, Aggro meowed softly and gently butted his head onto their forehead like he had seen Milo do so many times before. Sweetheart smiled and scratched that special spot behind Aggro’s ear making him trill in excitement.
“What would I do without you, big man? You and your dad, what would I do without you both?” They whispered, voice hoarse. It felt like a cheese grater to their esophagus every time they talked, coughed, hell even breathed. Aggro purred and slid into Sweetheart’s curled up body, his body humming like an engine.
Sweetheart smiled and closed their eyes, maybe just resting them wouldn't hurt right?
A soft familiar hum stirred them awake, hands that they knew personally rubbing those knots and aches they had been struggling to reach and rid of for months. Sweetheart hummed happily, melting into the hands that cared so dearly for them. They weren't curled in a ball anymore and Aggro wasn't curled with them, instead they were laying on their stomach with Aggro purring next to their head loaf style.
“Good mornin’ to you too. Slept a good hour, hour ‘n a half. How do you feel?” Milo whispered to them, gently drawing things into their back (hearts, he was drawing hearts).
“Mmph… sore ‘nd sleepy.” They mumbled, opening an eye to see him. He changed his shirt, one that really showed off his muscles, Sweetheart really liked that shirt on him. “My favorite shirt..” they smiled, tugging on the hem of his shirt. It wasn't even a sexy or provocative or workout shirt, it was just a shirt with a pocket, and that pocket had a cat on it. That was IT.
“I wore it for you, baby,” Milo chuckled, thumbs pressing that part on the top of their back from earlier. “And I made food for you and I cleaned up for you.”
“Max ‘n’ cheese..” the fever was returning, mixed with just waking up it sounded like they were spewing nonsense. Milo felt their cheeks, nearly hot to the touch.
“Alright, you soup filled delinquent, sit up I need to feed you so you can sleep this shit off.” Milo stood up, Aggro trilled and stretched ready to follow wherever he was heading off to. Sweetheart sat up, eyes barely open. They whined softly, reaching out for him. Milo held their hand, running their knuckles with his thumb.
“I'll be right back, I'm just going to the kitchen, Sweetheart.” His voice was soft, like a hug from your mom when you were little. They nodded, wrapping their blanket around their shoulders. The room was hot and cold, just like them. Yet this blanket stayed on their shoulders until Milo returned with a small blue bowl in his hands, Aggro shortly behind with one of his mouse toys in his mouth.
Sweetheart’s entire face felt stuffy and miserable, the nap only warded off their sickness for that measly hour. Milo carefully sat on the bed, bowl in hand. He wasn't lying, he was making macaroni and cheese.
“Drink first.” He said softly, picking up their water bottle from the nightstand and putting its straw to their chapped lips. Sweetheart made a noise of complaint then took a few sips of the water. Their throat felt EONS better with the cold water running down it. Aggro slipped into Sweetheart’s lap with the toy and started to purr and knead their calves gently.
“There you go,” Milo hummed and set the water bottle back on the nightstand “Dunno why you fight me on that, water is good for you.”
“It's boring, Mountain Dew Code Red is good for me.” They smiled, stocking Aggro's back.
“Mhm, ma said you need to drink at least two of those a day and you haven't even finished the first. I'm lettin’ you off the hook because ya so damn cute but don't let it happen again, a’ight, toots?” he joked, stirring the bowl. Sweetheart mumbled a jokingly annoyed ‘yes sir’ while they looked at the bowl.
“Are you gonna spoon feed me? I'm not five years old.”
“Yes I am, now open up and eat this Mac n cheese I slaved in the kitchen makin’” he smiled and scrunched his nose. Flirt.
Sweetheart rolled their eyes and opened their mouth with each spoonful. He was a very good cook, contrary to popular belief. This was the only thing they actually ate in almost a week that they could taste that wasn't microwaved soup or toast. The cheese practically melted in their mouth and the noodles were perfect.
They closed their eyes and whined pitifully again. It was so fucking good.
“Thank you mi’” they whined and slouched. The food sat warmly in their chest and tummy. “For all of this you didn't have to do this.”
“Like hell I didn't, you are my mate and it's the slow season. The big man himself told me that I can take all the time I need to get you betta. And you are gettin’ betta if it kills me.” He pressed their foreheads together, looking into their eyes. “I love you so so so so much sweetness and you think I, Milo Anthony Mateo Greer, let you suffer with being sick while I'm perfectly fine? Nope, that ain't me and if it was me it's an imposter and kill it on sight.” He sat back and cupped their cheek. “We are in this shit together,”
Sweetheart leaned into his touch, his calloused hands were so warm and inviting.
“I love you mi’,” they smiled, kissing his palm. Milo smiled and whispered an ‘i love you too’. Sweetheart still felt like absolute dog shit, but at least they had Mac n cheese in their system so now they could take medicine to flush it out of their system, YIPPEE!!
“You ready for some meds sweet thing? I'm thinking if you take NyQuil you can sleep this shit off and be betta in a day.” Milo slid off the bed and walked to the connecting bathroom. “It'll knock out your migraine, congestion and coughing in one.” He hummed, opening the medicine cabinet and pulling out the bottle. “And it'll make you sleep through a fuckin earthquake.” He walked back to the bed and opened the cap, pouring the shitty tasting fluid into the tiny cup it came with.
“I eva’ tell you the time Asher knocked his dumbass out by drinking half a bottle of this?” He handed sweetheart the cup and they downed it like the worst shot they've ever taken. Sweetheart furrowed their brow and looked at him.
“So we were in 9th grade and our great and powerful beta decided to drink half a bottle of NyQuil to cut his flu out on the first day. He was stupid and slept a day ‘n a half and woke up even sicker than when he drank the dumb shit.” He laughed softly. “That's our beta for you.”
Sweetheart laid down, Aggro moving from their lap to their chest. NyQuil was fast with them and they were still feverishly sleepy so sleeping wasn't out of the question.
“I'll let you sleep, get betta’, I love you.” Milo whispered to them, kissing their forehead. They nodded and shut their eyes, drifting off to sleep.