Chapter Text
Ryan awoke late in the morning to the feeling of a hand on his forehead. When he opened his eyes, his brother was staring down at him, frowning. “I think you have a fever.” Jack pulled his hand away.
“I don’t think so…” Ryan coughed lightly, sitting up. Feeling his own forehead, he added, “I really think it’s just a cold. The test said it wasn’t Covid.” He picked up his phone, checking the time. “Why did you let me sleep so long? We should be recording-“
“Ry, shut up.” Jack pushed him back as he tried to climb out of bed. “Recording can wait.” He let his hand rest against Ryan’s shoulder for a moment.
Ryan relaxed back into his bed. He was secretly grateful that Jack was the one to call off their work- he felt too guilty to do so himself. “Fine, if you’re that worried.”
Jack touched the back of his hand to Ryan’s forehead, then his cheek, still fussing over his temperature. “Take some DayQuil. I’ll get you something to eat.”
Ryan closed his eyes, listening to Jack’s footsteps fade as he left the room. He brought his hand to his face, the sensation of Jack’s hands burned onto his skin. If he did not have a fever before, he felt he did now.
It was a little embarrassing to be doted on, but Jack seemed intent on it. His touch, usually rough, had been tender against his face, and it was comforting in a way that Ryan had not expected.
When his door opened- they both rarely felt a need to knock- Ryan was unsure of how long he had dozed off for. It felt like a few minutes, but when he glanced at the clock he realized it had been over an hour.
“Sit up,” Jack instructed, holding a bowl in his hands.
Ryan pushed his body up weakly and rubbed his head, a slight headache settling into his temple. He took the bowl from his brother. “Jack, did you make this yourself? You could have just gotten me Campbell’s, you know.”
Jack shrugged. “We were out.” As he left, he added, “Text me if you need anything,” then closed Ryan’s door behind him.
Ryan stared down into the bowl. The soup did look better than anything from a can, he had to admit. It was better than what he could have made himself, too- then again, most things were.
After he had finished eating and had taken medicine, Ryan’s phone buzzed. He checked it, seeing a text from Jack.
At the store. Need anything?
Ryan thought for a moment. Ice cream
You don’t need that
But I’m sick :/
After a few minutes, Jack replied. What kind
Neapolitan :)
Say please
Ryan blinked down at the message, his chest suddenly tight. Please?
Please what
Are you serious
Please what
Can I please have Neapolitan, Jack?
Sure
Thanks
Setting his phone down, Ryan inhaled deeply. His head was still aching, but now his heartbeat was heavy in his chest, too. Chills spread down his legs, though his head still radiated warmth. Maybe, he thought, he was sicker than he had realized.
***
Ryan sat up when he heard Jack carrying groceries into the kitchen and setting them loudly on the counter.
Realizing that Jack would check on him soon, Ryan suddenly wished he had mustered the energy to brush his hair, or at least his teeth. He felt a little disgusting, and though he knew that Jack had seen him worse than this before, he could not shake the self-consciousness.
After a bit, Jack did enter Ryan’s room, bowl in hand. He sat on the edge of the bed, facing Ryan, handing it to him wordlessly.
Ryan opened his mouth to thank him, but when his eyes met Jack’s, he saw an expression that was so unusually soft with concern that he felt his face flush as he looked down. He stabbed awkwardly at the dessert while he tried to find his words. “I, uh- I think you were right, I had a fever earlier. It’s gone down a little, though.”
“Let me check.” Jack scooted forward, leaning in and kissing Ryan’s forehead.
Ryan could only freeze, his heart racing in his chest. Jack’s lips were pressed against his skin, and he was suddenly aware of how sweaty his face must be.
When he pulled back, Jack confirmed, “yeah, feels like it.” There was a slight smile at the corner of his lips- not the mischievous one that Ryan was used to, but something else entirely.
Ryan pretended to focus on stirring the ice cream, wracking his brain for anything else to say. “I- uh- I think I’ll be better in a couple days.”
“Why aren’t you eating?” Jack teased. “Here.” He dipped his middle finger into the bowl, then brought it to Ryan’s lips. “Go ahead,” he insisted, stifling a laugh.
Ryan hesitated, his heart slamming into his chest as he stared at Jack’s finger, dripping with melted ice cream. Slowly, he parted his lips, taking it in his mouth and licking it thoroughly.
In an instant, something in Jack’s demeanor changed. “That’s it,” he breathed, his voice low. “Keep going.” He pushed his finger in a little further, and Ryan gagged.
Jack pulled back, panicked. “Shit, I’m sorry! I wasn’t- I wasn’t thinking.”
Ryan wiped saliva off his lips, realizing slowly what had just happened. “It’s fine, my throat is just kind of swollen…”
Jack stood, looking toward the door. “That was weird, I’m sorry. I should-“
Ryan grabbed his wrist. “Wait.”
Looking Ryan in the eyes, Jack’s expression was still gentle, if a little ashamed. “I’m just trying to take care of you. I swear.”
Ryan stared back, feigning confidence as best he could, though his head was spinning. “I know. I want you to.”
Jack’s eyes lit up. He nodded, climbing into Ryan’s bed and putting an arm around him. As Ryan ate his ice cream, he felt Jack pull him close. “I think I was the one who got you sick,” he confessed. “I had a sore throat, but it wasn’t that bad. Guess you got it worse than me.”
Ryan rolled his eyes, only to find that even doing that hurt his head. “I knew it was you. You were coughing shit up for a week.”
“Hey, I’m making it up to you, aren’t I?”
Placing his bowl on the nightstand, Ryan laid his dizzy head against Jack’s chest. He set his hand on Jack’s stomach, lightly stroking him over his shirt.
This was far too intimate, even for them. Yet, it was so effortless, especially in his lightheaded state. He noticed how fast Jack’s heartbeat was in his ear, and wondered if he was the reason for it.
Slowly, his fingers slid under Jack’s shirt, feeling the thick hair that covered him. He petted him, working his fingers lower. For several minutes, in silence aside from their strained breathing, Ryan rested his hand over the band of Jack’s shorts. Then, slowly, he began to slip his fingertips just under it, rubbing little circular motions against his skin.
Jack’s breath was becoming shallower, and Ryan could already spot his erection under the blanket that covered them. Seeing the evidence of Jack’s arousal right in front of him, almost within grasp, made Ryan’s head feel even lighter, but he did not want to stop.
“I’m sorry,” Jack barely croaked out. “I don’t know why…”
Ryan sat up, eye level with Jack. He knew he looked as sick as he felt, but he did not care. He pressed his lips to his brother’s, easing his fingers into his shorts.
For a moment, they seemed to melt together, their eyes closing as Jack put his hand on the back of Ryan’s head and slipped his tongue between his lips. Ryan grazed Jack’s pubic hair, moaning as his fingers crawled closer to his erection.
Then, Ryan coughed, directly into Jack’s mouth, and once he started he could not stop. As they broke apart, Jack started laughing as Ryan hunched over in embarrassment, hacking into his shirt sleeve.
“God, you’re fucking adorable,” Jack blurted out, then immediately put an apologetic hand on Ryan’s back, patting him and rubbing his shoulder. Even amidst the bout of coughing, his touch was soothing.
Once Ryan recovered, Jack took him in his arms as they lay down. “Maybe we could wait a couple days,” Ryan whispered, his voice weak with exhaustion.
Pressing his face into Ryan’s messy hair, Jack replied, “I’m here whenever you’re ready.”
That was all Ryan needed to hear to close his eyes and relax in his brother’s embrace.