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Something was wrong. He could tell from the way Gabin was breathing, moving slower than normally, more lethargic instead of his usual rehearsal fatigue. He looked hotter than normal-in a temperature sense-sweating enough that he his bandana was essentially serving as a rag. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he huffed out his breaths, and Tobias noticed him squeeze his eyes tight four times now.
At first he worried it was his ankle acting up again. But he wasn’t favoring his left like he’d expect, this was something deeper, more full bodied. The rest of the dancers were also exhausted, in their usual sense from the three hours of rehearsal with no breaks except for Tobias taking minutes at a time to put on his headphones and contemplate problems in the dance.
“Okay. Enough. That’s all for today, you’re only getting worse at this point.” He called with a wave of his hand.
He heard a few people mumble “merci, Tobias” along with some stray rolled eyes and scoffs at his dismissal. Gabin exhaled gratefully and collapsed over by his duffel bag, bringing his bandana down to mop up the sweat on his face. He pulled out his water and chugged it, slumping against the wall in a distinctively un-Gabin-like fashion. His eyebrows were knitted together in a way that told Tobias he also had no clue what was going on with him. Tobias asked anyway.
“You okay? You were moving…heavier than usual.”
Gabin shook his head. “I’m not sure. I just feel…awful. I’m gonna go home and see if I can sleep this off. See you tomorrow.”
Tobias said nothing but nodded as he went back to focus on the other problems in the choreography he’d noticed. Nothing seemed as important as Gabin though.
————————
The next day Tobias grabbed an extra bottle of water on his way out the door, he wasn’t sure why. Well, he knew it was for Gabin, but he decided not to let himself think about it any further. He walked into the rehearsal room and began his usual ramble before noticing that Gabin was missing.
Was he late? Did he get arrested again? Was he okay? He decided to check his phone for once, since people kept telling him that’s how they communicated important information. No missed calls, but three unread texts.
The first was from Genevieve.
[I know you probably won’t read this, but Gabin is out sick today, and most likely will be for the rest of this week.]
The second and third were from Gabin himself.
[I’m so sorry.]
[I’m sick.]
Tobias read the messages again. Sick? He supposed that wasn’t exactly shocking news considering yesterday, but Genevieve said he’d probably be out the rest of the week. How bad was it? How long had he been feeling bad? If he felt sick yesterday, he should have told him. He wouldn’t have pushed him so hard. He wouldn’t have let him push himself so hard.
He got through an hour of rehearsal that he was barely even watching before deciding he was far too distracted to get anything done today. Stopping the music, he stood still for several moments before turning and swiftly leaving the room, dancers forgotten behind him.
He burst into Genevieve’s office, eliciting a groan from the woman. She buried her head in her hands.
“Why do I even bother having doors to this office!” She grumbled, and looked up, resolute.
“Tobias. I texted you, Gabin is out sick for-“
“I know. Where does he live?” Tobias demanded.
“What? Tobias, I don’t understand.” Genvieve replied, confused.
“I am asking you where Gabin lives.”
“Yes, I understood that.”
“So…are you going to tell me or are we going to keep going in circles like this?”
“Why do you need to know? Look, Tobias I know you want every piece to be perfect but if Gabin is sick we need to let him rest. He can’t perform at his best if you drag him out of bed to rehearse.” She explained calmly.
“I know that, you don’t think I know that? Why would I go over there to drag him back here to rehearse sick? He could get all the other dancers sick. He could hurt himself. He wouldn’t be at his best. I’m not a monster.” Tobias defended.
“I didn’t say-“
“Can you just tell me where he lives? I need to make sure he’s okay.”
That must have gotten through to her because Genevieve’s whole expression changed and she considered.
“Oh. Um, yes of course. I’ll text you the address, okay?”
“Thank you.” Tobias huffed and turned on his heel.
——————
Gabin was in the middle of a very groggy fever induced sleep when he was awoken by a loud succession of knocks (or banging, as most people called it) on the door to his apartment. He tried to ignore them and bury his head further under his pillow, he needed to be unconscious for as long as it took to ride this out, he felt absolutely horrible.
But the knocks came again, more insistent this time.
“Gabin? It’s Tobias. Can you answer the door? Some guys outside your building kept looking at me weird and talking to me in French even though I tried to tell them I don’t speak French and I’m beginning to see why you carry around a large rock with you everywhere you go.”
Gabin immediately shot up, regretting the movement as his head throbbed behind his eyes, and stumbled to the door, swinging it open, confused and bleary.
Tobias indeed stood there, two grocery bags in hand and his headphones hanging loosely around his neck.
“Tobias?” He started to ask, “what are you doing h-“
“Why aren’t you laying down?” Tobias interrupted. “You should really be resting if you’re sick, or you won’t get better.”
Gabin sighed. “I was laying down, Tobias, until a very insistent man came pounding on my door.”
“Oh.” Tobias said “right. Sorry.” And then after a moment,
“Can I come in?” He asked
“Oh. Uh sure yeah, but why-?” Gabin started to ask again.
Tobias stepped inside and slid off his shoes quickly, turning towards Gabin’s kitchen, assessing rapidly and placing the grocery bags on the counter.
“Did you eat? Why are you still standing? Sit down.” Tobias said.
Gabin followed his instructions, sinking down onto his living room couch, and looking over at him.
“Uh- no not yet, I haven’t really had the strength.” He admitted weakly.
Tobias hummed to himself in consideration. “Okay. Go back to sleep, I’ll make you some soup.”
“You came all the way here…to make me soup?”
“I… I don’t know.” Tobias admitted. “This isn’t something I normally do. But, you killed that rat for me, I figured… “ he trailed off.
“Were you worried about me?”
“You’re my lead dancer, of course I’m worried about you.”
Gabin considered a few moments.
“You do this for all your lead dancers?”
“…no.” Tobias admitted softly.
Gabin was glad.
“Merci, Tobias” he said simply.
Tobias nodded and went back to the task he seemed to have given himself.
Gabin found himself dozing, not quite achieving sleep but resting enough to slow his breathing. It felt natural, having Tobias here like this, in a weird way. It made being sick a lot less terrible knowing it had brought him here.
Tobias set down a bowl of soup and a sleeve of opened saltines on the coffee table and looked at Gabin. He looked so peaceful laying there that he didn’t want to disturb him, but he knew he needed to eat. He didn’t want to startle him. He reached a hand out, pulled it back, put it back out, and gently rested it on Gabin’s shoulder. Gabin didn’t stir. Tobias gently shook his shoulder, and Gabin’s eyes cracked open.
Tobias was suddenly aware how close they were with him crouching down in front of the couch like this. He cleared his throat and stood up, wiping his hands on his pants.
“Soup is done. And there are crackers too- I didn’t make them but they are supposed to help so you should try and eat them if you can. And the soup was canned so I didn’t really do much of the cooking.”
Gabin sat up slowly, head still ringing and reached out to take the soup, noticing the blanket Tobias had draped over him while he rested.
“Merci.” He began eating, and Tobias seemed to decide he needed to busy himself with something other than watching Gabin eat because he abruptly stood up and went back to the kitchen. He poured a glass of water and set it on the table in front of Gabin. He pulled out two boxes of DayQuil and NyQuil and set them on the counter. He also set out a box of tissues. He was in the middle of loading Gabin’s dishwasher for him when Gabin spoke again.
“You don't need to do all this, you know.”
“I know.” He said, then stopped and continued, “ Can I do it anyway?”
Gabin blinked at him. He wasn’t used to Tobias asking for permission. He nodded softly and Tobias went back to work on the dishes.
Gabin finished the soup, water and a handful of crackers and sunk down onto the couch, watching Tobias roam his apartment. He was tidying everything, pacing around like a man on a mission and yet navigating Gabin’s home like it was second nature. Gabin found it peaceful watching him glide from one task to the next and felt his eyelids starting to close. But he couldn’t let himself go to sleep without clarifying something.
“Why are you doing all this for me? I can’t imagine you like being around sick people.” Gabin asked.
“No.” Tobias agreed. “I don’t know. I wanted to?”
Gabin waited for him to elaborate. Tobias sat down on the edge of the coffee table and tried to think it out.
“I’ve been trying to be clearer.” He said.
When Gabin scrunched his eyes in confusion Tobias continued.
“With my messages.”
Tobias looked deeply at him, willing him to understand without actually using the words he couldn’t articulate himself. And then he reached out, gently tucking a strand of Gabin’s unruly hair behind his ear, like he’d done at the police station. Before he could overthink it, he leaned in, kissing Gabin softly on the cheek.
He pulled back and studied the floor, though he could feel Gabin staring at him.
“Feel better soon. We need you at rehearsals.” He said and stood to leave.
“Tobias.” Gabin called after him, though he had no idea what he would say.
Tobias shot him a simple “don’t die” in response and left swiftly, pulling the door shut after him.
Gabin huffed a small laugh and sat there in shock before settling back into the couch.
————
Luckily for Gabin, he’d gotten sick on a Thursday (Wednesday if you counted the day he should’ve gone home) which meant he didn’t have to miss much rehearsal before being recovered by Monday.
Unfortunately for Tobias, this meant he had a little over three days of stewing in his unease. He thought he’d done the right thing trying to help Gabin, but maybe he’d just invaded his space. Gabin might not have even wanted him there, some people liked to be left alone when they were sick — he himself only trusted certain people to see him so vulnerable.
And he’d kissed him. On the cheek, yes, but despite it being an inherently French commonplace greeting or farewell, it had felt charged when Tobias had done it.
He was coming to realize how much he liked Gabin, ever since the opening of Whatever This Is, and he’d realized how drawn to the other man he was. He spent most of the weekend googling societal norms, both French and American surrounding dealing with sick loved ones, and then another good chunk googling how to classify someone as a loved one. By the time Monday rolled around, Tobias was still so on edge that he forgot Gabin might be back in rehearsal.
He walked into the rehearsal room early, expecting to be alone, only to find gabin stretching. He looked up at him, giving him a soft smile.
“You’re back.” He said dumbly.
“I am.” Replied Gabin. “No doubt it was thanks to the soup you made me.”
“It was just canned.”
“Eh, well sometimes you just can’t argue with prepackaged goodness.”
“Are you sure you feel well enough to dance? Because you shouldn’t strain yourself if you don’t feel better yet. You could pass out or roll your bad ankle or sneeze mid pas de deux right into Melanie’s face and then she could fall and-“
“Tobias.” Gabin interrupted “I’m okay. The doctor cleared me and everything.” He stood up and walked over to Tobias, grabbing his hand and bringing it up to his forehead.
“See? No fever. No cough either and my body only hurts the normal amount that it always does.”
Tobias seemed to be studying him for any signs of deception.
Gabin added, “It was a bad cold Tobias, it happens. I’m not dying. I’m not even contagious anymore.”
He watched Tobias register the words, then as his gaze dropped very pointedly to his lips.
He opened his mouth to speak, still staring at Gabin’s lips and Gabin felt himself blush.
“No?” Tobias asked.
“Non” said Gabin.
Tobias looked back up at him, assessing.
“Are you sure? Because you look flushed.”
The other dancers began trickling in and Gabin ducked his head and laughed, trying to shake off the scrutiny of Tobias’s gaze.
“Oui, je vais bien.” He muttered and took his place with the others.
Rehearsal went smoothly, Gabin mostly back in full form, and Tobias decided he’d wait until tomorrow to critique some of the smaller issues he’d noticed.
He made sure to only run rehearsal for two hours this time, and made everyone take a water break halfway through during which he sat with his headphones on and ruminated over the piece.
Gabin was the last to leave. He took his time and lingered, talking to the other dancers on their way out, before slowly retreating to pack his duffle bag with undo care. When it was just the two of them in the small studio together, Gabin finally made his way over to Tobias on his way towards the exit.
“So, what do you think? Was I just as brilliant as i usually am?”
“Hmm.” Tobias hummed, looking over his notes.
Gabin cleared his throat. Tobias didn’t look up.
“Look Tobias, I just wanted to say, thank you again for everything. Really.”
And then Gabin leaned in slowly, carefully, mimicking Tobias’s movements, tucked one of his bangs back, and pressed a kiss to Tobias’s cheek.
Tobias froze. Stock still. Eyes wide. Gabin turned to leave, only to be stopped by a hand on his wrist.
He turned back to see Tobias staring down at their now joined hands in shock.
“Tobias?” Gabin asked.
Tobias looked up to meet his eyes, then down at his lips, and took a purposeful step closer so that they were standing in each others space, both feeling the pull in the air between them.
It was not dissimilar to the interaction that they’d had following their one on one rehearsal of Growing Pressure. But this time, Tobias didn’t lean away from the pull, didn’t retreat behind his wall of carefully crafted emotions. This time, he leaned into it.
He slowly brought his hand up to cup Gabin’s jaw, and they met each other in the middle, lips meeting in an anticipated press. They breathed into one another, Tobias let go of his hand to move it to Gabin’s waist and tug him impossibly closer, deepening the kiss.
They kissed for what felt like minutes but ended far too fast. Tobias rested his forehead against Gabin’s and exhaled deeply.
“Finally.” Gabin sighed.
Tobias looked up at him, shocked and affronted.
Gabin continued with a smirk,
“I’ve been wanting you to do that for ages.”
Tobias rolled his eyes and went back in for another kiss, then pulled back and quipped, “you’d better hope you’re not still contagious.”
“Oui,” Gabin replied between kisses, “But if you do get sick, you should know I will come to your apartment to wake you up very loudly and force feed you soup.”
Tobias hummed in confirmation.
“Well, as long as we have a plan.”