“I’m fine.”
“You’ve got a fever, Tim.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“You’re sweating just from breathing.”
Tim groaned and turned over in bed, his forehead pressed to the pillow, voice muffled:
“I didn’t ask you to stay.”
“I know.”
His boyfriend was sitting cross-legged at the edge of the bed, holding a bottle of water. He hadn’t moved in an hour, except to readjust the blanket Tim kept kicking off every ten minutes. Once again, it was bunched up at the foot of the bed.
“You don’t have to be here.”
“I don’t have to, no.”
Silence.
Tim sniffled, then muttered:
“You’re gonna get sick.”
“You literally coughed in my mouth during training last week, so I think it’s a little late for that.”
A half-strangled laugh escaped Tim, quickly smothered by a dry cough.
“Serves you right,” the other said with a smirk.
“You’re cruel.”
He held out the water. Tim waved it off. The other didn’t say anything, just kept holding the bottle between them. Tim gave in, took a sip, and looked away.
“I look pathetic like this, don’t I?”
“No.”
A pause.
“You just look... human. A very grumpy human.”
Tim finally opened his eyes, his face still half-buried in the pillow.
“You’re really staying all night?”
“Yeah.”
“Even if I’m a jerk to you?”
“Especially if you’re a jerk to me.”
A long silence followed. Then slowly, without looking at him, Tim pulled the blanket back over himself… and lifted a corner, just slightly — a silent invitation.