Fonzo tiptoes into the bedroom a little after four am, strips off his work clothes, glad to get the smell of beer off of him, and puts on some comfy shorts and a t-shirt. He fumbles around using his phone as a flashlight to find his charger and crawls into bed, cuddling up to Vic's back and wrapping himself around his taller partner.
Vic rolls over and buries his face in the crook of Fonzo's neck, nuzzling his pulse point. Fonzo closes his eyes and kisses Vic's forehead. His face is warm. After a few moments Fonzo realizes it's too warm. It feels like he's cuddled up to a furnace.
"Querido?" He says, putting the back of his hand against Vic's neck.
"Mm?" Vic mumbles an acknowledgement.
"You've got quite a fever, did you take anything?"
"Mmmhmm, last night, and I'm gonna see my doc today at three."
"Can you have some more ibuprofen yet?"
"I think so, what time is it?" Vic mumbles.
"It's after four, hon," Fonzo says, hopping out of bed and rooting around in the bathroom for the advil. He doesn't find it. Back in their bedroom he switches on the lamp to see that Vic already has the Advil, nyquil, vaporub, thermometer, tissues, and a glass of water on his side of the bed. There are used tissues littering the floor and Vic's side of the blanket.
"Oh, V," he says, "Poor thing, you must have been feeling rotten when you got home from work, huh?"
Vic shrugs, "It wasn't so bad when I got home, but I took a nap and woke up feeling awful. I think it's strep again."
Fonzo slips him two Advil and some water and then puts the thermometer under Vic's tongue. He pulls his boyfriends kinky curls up into a high ponytail at the top of his head and secures them with a scrunchy to keep them off his sweaty neck.
"I'm going with you to the doctors."
"You should sleep, you just got home. I don't want you to get sick too."
"Shhh, I will sleep. But I'm going with you." He takes the beeping thermometer, "One-oh-one. Okay, just get some sleep, okay baby. Wake me up if you need anything."
"Mmmhmm," Vic agrees.
"I'm serious, I don't care if you think I'm too tired, wake me up if you need me." Fonzo kisses Vic's forehead.
"Stop, you'll get sick."
"I don't get strep anymore since I got my tonsils out."
"Yeah, but you still can, you've just been lucky." Vic's voice is barely audible, but he has to get the last word in on anything medical. Fonzo shakes his head and picks up all the tissues, gathering them into the wastebasket from under his desk and putting it beside Vic's bedside table. Not that it'll keep him from throwing his tissues everywhere, but it's nice to pretend.
Fonzo switches off the lamp and gets back in bed. Vic rolls over and curls into a little ball with his head on Fonzo's chest. He makes a soft little contented sound when Fonzo wraps his arms around him. "Te quiero," he whispers.
When Fonzo wakes up it's after one and Vic is sprawled on his back taking up almost the whole bed, his t-shirt soaked in sweat. His mouth is open and his cheeks flushed, sweat beading along his upper lip.
Fonzo yawns and stretches, checking his phone and getting up to pee and make some coffee. When he comes back, Vic's sitting up, blowing his nose loudly. He gives Fonzo an extra miserable and pathetic look, his eyes red rimmed with purple bruised looking circles under them.
"How you feeling?"
"Horrible," he coughs dramatically into the tissues.
"Poor Bear," Fonzo kisses his hairline, nuzzling his curls. "Life in the ER strikes again, huh?"
"More like nieces and nephews strike again," he groans. "Sophia called and told me Daniella and Kevin both came down with something Saturday night after I left the cookout."
"Damned germ factories," Fonzo says, "Suddenly not so sad I had to work Saturday."
"Doesn't matter," Vic says, his voice so thoroughly congested it's almost unintelligible, "You're gonna catch it from me anyway."
***
Two bowls of oatmeal, one shared shower, one argument about whether or not Vic will be warm enough without a sweater and a jacket, and a cab ride later, the two of them arrive at Vic's doctor's office in Fort Green.
Fonzo goes to the desk to check Vic in, and then comes back to sit next to Vic, who curls into him, leaning his head on Fonzo's shoulder. Fonzo puts an arm around him, rubbing his back against the chills.
When Vic gets called back Fonzo comes too, because Vic may be a nurse, but he's a giant baby when it comes to his own health. Fonzo sits in a chair in the corner while the nurse takes Vic's vitals and history, then leaves them to wait for the doctor.
"I'm cold," Vic whines at him. Fonzo wraps his jacket around Vic's shoulders, trying to keep himself from making a Chris Farley reference because Vic is a grumpy sick person who will probably take offense if Fonzo says "Fat guy in a little coat."
The doctor examines him and swabs his throat for the rapid strep test. Vic gags on the swab and Fonzo is terrified for a second that he's going to puke on the poor little doctor in her pink scrubs and clean lab coat, but luckily he manages to get control of his gag reflex quickly.
The rapid test comes back positive and the doc says he has a sinus infection as well. She writes a script for some antibiotics and Fonzo takes Vic home and gets him back in bed under the covers with a hot water bottle and cup of tea. Once Vic is comfy and dozing, he runs to the pharmacy and picks up the antibiotics and some extra tissues, nyquil, sudafed, and advil. He also runs by the neighborhood Dominican spot and picks up a roasted chicken so he can make soup.
Back at the apartment he wakes Vic to take his antibiotics and gets an earful about how cold it is in their room. He tries to convince him to come out to the sofa where it's warmer, but Vic refuses, so he just brings him an extra blanket instead and refills the hot water bottle. Then Vic whines about his headache so Fonzo brings him some Advil and a cold washcloth to cover his eyes.
Fonzo's doesn't cook often, but that doesn't mean he can't. He throws together some carrots and potatoes and corn and onions and chicken broth and spices and shreds the chicken he picked up into it, tasting as he goes. A little sazon and some of Vic's homemade sofrito and a healthy helping of fresh cilantro make it just right. As he's finishing the soup Vic comes out of the bedroom wrapped in a blanket, tissues stuffed in his nose, and leans on the kitchen door jamb.
"Hey Bear, what are you doing up?"
"I missed you." Vic pouts at him.
"Oh, baby," Fonzo says. It's stupid, but he loves how much Vic needs him when he's sick. "Why don't you go sit on the couch and I'll bring you some soup?"
"You made soup?" Vic asks.
"You don't have to sound so surprised," Fonzo laughs, "I know you're the chef, but I do okay."
"I'm sure it's great, baby," Vic looks genuinely hurt, which Fonzo also finds a little funny but keeps to himself. "You can do anything you want." Vic's eyes are wide and he looks like he's tearing up.
"Couch, Bear," Fonzo orders. "You look like you're about to fall over."
Vic frowns and shuffles off to the couch. "I'm sorry," he says as Fonzo puts a bowl of soup in front of him.
"V, it's fine. I'm not upset, I was just teasing you."
"That's mean," Vic says.
"I know, I'm very mean." Fonzo runs back to the kitchen and comes back with two glasses of water and some orange juice for Vic. "Eat your soup."
Fonzo puts on An Ideal Husband because it's Vic's comfort movie. Vic eats half his soup and then curls up in the corner of the sofa away from Fonzo, shivering.
Fonzo clears the table and comes back to settle on the couch with Vic's favorite fuzzy blanket fresh from the dryer. He spreads it over his lap and holds it up, inviting Vic to get under it with him. Vic shakes his head. "No, it's okay."
"V," Fonzo says, "Are you mad at me?"
"No, but you're going to leave for work soon and if I get all comfy and cozy on you now I'll be so sad and cold when you leave."
He looks so sincere and sad that Fonzo can't help but laugh a little. "I'm not working tonight, I traded with Liz so she can go to Atlantic City this weekend."
"You're not working?"
Fonzo shakes his head. "I'm all yours." He holds the blanket up again and Vic crawls under it, laying his head on Fonzo's lap.
"You're really staying? It's not a trick?"
"Why would I trick you?" Fonzo pulls Vic's hair back and runs his fingers through the curls.
"I don't know, it just feels to good to be true. I was so sick last night and I missed you."
"Bear, are you crying?"
"No," Vic whimpers. "My eyes are just watery, I'm sick." He sniffles and his shoulders shake. "I might be crying a little. Sorry."
"Oh, bear," Fonzo bends over and kisses his cheek. "I'm so sorry you don't feel good, baby." Fonzo squeezes him tighter and kisses his forehead again. He passes Vic a handful of tissues and he blows his nose loudly.
"Do you still love me even though I'm a big baby when I'm sick?"
"I love you because of it, not in spite of it. I like you, Vic. I love my big sweet sensitive bear."
"That's good," Vic says. "Cuz I'm not moving until I feel better."
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