Domestic Bliss

Sick

"Come on, Brian," Justin said as he got Brian to stand up. "We need to get you home to bed."

"Fuck!" Brian croaked. "My fucking throat is killing me."

"You and Gus both have strep throat," Justin explained. "We'll stop by the pharmacy on the way home and get this prescription filled."

"Great!" Brian snarked.

"Come on, you can do it," Justin urged as they came out the door of the walk-in clinic. "The car's just over there."

"Couldn't you bring it over here?"

"I could, but you might fall over while I'm gone."

"Fuck!"

"It's not that far," Justin said urging Brian to keep walking. A sick Kinney was even worse to deal with than a healthy Kinney. And that was really saying something. "You can do it," Justin repeated.

"Stop saying that. You sound like that fucking Tony Little and his antelope torture machine."

"It's the gazelle," Justin chuckled. He quickly wiped the smile from his face when he noted Brian's glower.

Finally they made it to Justin's Jeep. Justin helped Brian into the passenger seat, accompanied by much grumbling and griping and cursing. With a stop at the pharmacy, they were soon home. Then the process of getting a tired and sick Brian to bed was next on the agenda. Justin managed to coax Brian to climb the stairs and then got him to sit on the side of the bed. He gave him his first dose of antibiotic. Brian took the pill grudgingly after Justin promised that it would make him feel better.

"How come you don't have strep throat too?" Brian asked in a whiny voice not at all like his usually sarcastic self.

"Maybe I'm not as rundown as you are."

"I'm not rundown," Brian protested.

"Of course not, that's why I can feel every rib on your torso and you have bags the size of suitcases under your eyes," Justin said, as he began stripping off Brian's clothes.

"I can do it myself," Brian said, shoving Justin's hand away.

"Then do it," Justin commanded standing back and glaring at Brian.

Brian managed to unbutton his trousers and pull the zipper down. That completed, he slumped forward and let out a long sigh.

"At this rate we'll be here till next Tuesday getting you into bed," Justin grumped. He grabbed the legs of Brian's trousers and gave them a yank sending Brian onto his back. That enabled him to pull the trousers out from under Brian.

"What did you mean about the bags under my eyes?" Brian mumbled.

"I meant that you have bags under your eyes. You're all skin and bones because you won't stop working long enough to eat. No wonder you're sick." Justin began working on Brian's shirt.

"I don't have bags under my eyes."

"Yes, you do. But you also haven't been eating enough."

"Can you get me a couple of slices of cucumber?"

"Cucumber? Is this some sort of weird craving?"

"I want them for my eyes."

"You're on your fucking death bed and you're worried about the bags under your eyes? Un-fucking-believable!"

"I can't have bags under my eyes at my funeral."

"You're not dying, you son of a bitch. If you took care of yourself, we wouldn't have this problem," Justin countered.

"Your bedside manner is commendable, Sunshine." Brian managed to stick his tongue in his cheek and look a little like the Brian Kinney everyone knew and hated. "You sound just like me."

"And what greater tribute is there than that?" Justin asked sarcastically.

"None that I can think of." Brian swung his legs up onto the bed when Justin pulled the covers back.

"Go to sleep."

"I need my cucumber."

"Shit! All right, I'll get your fucking cucumber. Try to go to sleep." Justin went storming out of the room leaving Brian to moan in peace.

When he returned a few minutes later, Brian was wheezing in the familiar way that told Justin he was asleep. Justin walked over to the bed and set the dish of cucumber slices on the night table. He felt Brian's forehead. It was still hot, probably too soon for the antibiotics to have kicked in. Justin pulled the covers up tight around Brian's neck and tucked them in. He kissed Brian's feverish brow before going quietly out of the room.

*****

Brian awoke with a start. His throat still hurt and he felt very groggy. He needed to pee. He reached over to the other side of the bed to get Justin to help him. The bed was empty.

"Justin," Brian croaked. There was no response. "Justin!" Brian called as loudly as he could.

"I'm coming," Justin called. He came rushing into the room wearing only his underwear.

"Where were you?" Brian asked in an accusatory voice. He sounded like a child who had been abandoned by his parents.

"I'm sleeping in Gus' room," Justin quickly explained. "Do you need something?"

"Need to pee."

"Come on then, get up, but do it slowly."

Justin pulled the covers back and took Brian's arm to help him sit up.

"I'm soaking wet," Brian observed.

"Did you wet yourself?" Justin asked with concern.

"No, I fucking didn't wet myself. I'm covered in sweat. I stink and the bed clothes are all wet."

"Come on," Justin said patiently. You've been sweating in your sleep. Maybe your fever has broken." He felt Brian's head. It didn't feel quite as hot as it had before, or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. He helped Brian into the bathroom. Brian slumped down onto the toilet and Justin left him there.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to change the sheets. You'll be more comfortable with fresh ones."

"Thanks," Brian said softly. He managed to complete his business sitting down. When he tried to stand up, the room started spinning in an uncontrollable manner. He quickly sat back down on the relative safety of the toilet seat. "I need a shower," he mumbled, when Justin came back into the bathroom.

"I don't think that's a good idea, but I could give you a sponge bath."

"That would be nice," Brian said with his little boy smile. He looked a lot like Gus when he smiled like that.

Justin grabbed a facecloth from the linen closet and wet it with warm water. He gently sponged Brian's chest and back while his partner sat on the toilet.

"Does that feel better?" Justin asked.

"Heavenly," Brian replied.

Justin looked at Brian's face to ascertain whether the man was being sarcastic. It didn't seem like he was, because his eyes were closed and he seemed to be enjoying the impromptu bath. Justin continued on Brian's legs. When he was done, he toweled off the familiar body.

"There, ready to go back to bed?"

"I feel better. Thank you, Sunshine."

Justin knew Brian was really sick, because he would never admit that he liked the bath or thank him for it if he was feeling like himself.

"What time is it?" Brian asked, as Justin supported him to walk back to the bed.

"A little after one. You've been sleeping for four hours."

"Hm."

"Did it seem longer?" Justin asked as he lowered Brian back onto the bed.

"Don't know," Brian replied, his eyes closed. "These sheets feel nice. Cool."

"That's good," Justin said, covering Brian up.

"Should I take another pill?"

"Not until morning."

"'Kay."

"You'll be fine, Brian. Go back to sleep."

"Stay with me."

"Okay, for a bit."

Justin climbed onto the bed and laid on top of the covers. He ran his hand down Brian's arm and then brushed the damp hair off Brian's forehead. Brian sighed and seemed to doze off. Justin scooted over to the edge of the bed prepared to go back to Gus' room.

"I'm not asleep," Brian said.

Justin almost jumped out of his skin. "You could give a guy some warning," he gasped.

"I thought a guy would stay with me."

"Well, this guy would prefer to get some sleep away from the raging inferno that is your body."

"You always liked my inferno before," Brian said with a little grin.

Justin sat back down on the edge of the bed. He instinctively touched Brian's forehead, feeling the fever still there. "You need to rest and get better."

"I don't want you to leave."

"You'll sleep better by yourself … and so will I."

"You don't like me anymore, 'cause I'm sick." Brian sounded like he was about three years old.

"I like you just fine, but I'll be the one going into 4Front tomorrow, and I'd like to be bright eyes and bushy tailed."

"Mm, tail," Brian whispered. He seemed to be getting sleepy again.

Justin chuckled, "Trust you to pick up on that."

"Well! But I'll be better in the morning. I can go in with you." When there was no response, Brian said, "Right?"

"We'll see. Go to sleep."

"I'll be fine in the morning," Brian mumbled as his eyes drooped.

"Sure," Justin said, feeling Brian's forehead again. When Brian didn't move or open his eyes, Justin slid off the bed. There were no protests this time as he headed for Gus' room. Brian was asleep.

*****

"Justin," Brian croaked. "Justin!"

Justin came running wrapped in a towel.

"What? Is something wrong?"

"My throat hurts."

Justin sighed. "I know, Brian. It's called having strep throat."

"But I'm supposed to be better today."

"It doesn't happen immediately."

"But I took my pill."

"And you have nine days more of them."

"Nine days! Nine fucking days! I can't be sick for nine days!"

"You won't be sick all that time, but you have to take the pills for that long to be sure the infection is gone."

"Oh. I guess I can do that," Brian conceded. "But I refuse to be sick for nine days."

"I don't think you have any choice about how long you're sick," Justin told him.

Brian frowned. He took a good look at Justin. "Why are you all wet?" he asked.

"I just got out of the shower."

"Oh."

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Well, you need to eat something. You have to take another pill and you're supposed to have food with it."

Brian made a face, but then said, "Okay."

"Do you want to come downstairs and sit up for a while, or should I bring you a tray up here?"

"I'll come down. I need to shower."

"I think you need to stay warm. Showering might not be a good idea."

"But I reek."

"Stand up," Justin ordered.

Brian threw back the covers and tried to stand up like he normally would. He immediately felt lightheaded and sat back on the bed quickly to avoid pitching forward onto the floor.

"My point exactly," Justin said. "You will stay in bed and I'll bring you some toast and juice."

"I need to get ready for work."

"You're not going anywhere," Justin declared.

"But we're already short one person with Cynthia gone."

"Ted and I will manage."

"But…"

"Lie back," Justin said, pulling the covers up over Brian.

"But…"

"Sh, close your eyes and rest. I'll get your breakfast."

Brian let his head sink into the pillow. It did feel good to lie down. As much as he wanted to go to work, needed to go to work, needed to make sure that 4Front was running properly, it felt much better to rest. He closed his eyes.

"Brian, are you asleep?" Justin's voice roused him.

"Mm," he replied, forcing his eyes to open.

"I've got some toast and juice for you," Justin said.

"Throat hurts."

"I know, but you need to eat. You need to build up your strength."

Brian sighed. "Okay," he agreed. He pushed himself into a more upright position. Justin handed him the glass of juice and he sipped a bit. It tasted pretty good.

"Here, have a bite of toast."

"It has butter," Brian protested.

"Yes, it does. Eat it."

"But…"

"Dry toast would be too harsh on your throat. Eat it," Justin ordered gently.

Brian took a bite and chewed. It tasted pretty good and it didn't hurt his throat when he swallowed.

"Now swallow your pill." Justin handed him a pill and the glass of juice. Brian downed the pill and most of the juice. "Good," Justin told him.

"I think I'm well enough to go into work," Brian said.

"Yeah, right," Justin snorted. "That's why I have to practically carry you to the fucking toilet. You're not going anywhere today or tomorrow, so don't even mention it. We'll see after that."

"When did you become so bossy?" Brian asked.

"I've always been bossy," Justin declared. "But you never listened to me most of the time."

"So why should I listen now?"

"Because without me, you'll be pissing the bed and having to lie in it."

"Eeeiiww!"

Justin chuckled. "Well, it's true, so behave yourself and stop giving me a hard time."

"What am I going to do while you're at 4Front?"

"I've arranged for someone to look after you."

"You have? Who?"

"You'll find out shortly. Now, I have to go get dressed."

"Justin, who is it?" Justin merely smiled and walked towards the closet. "Justin Taylor! Tell me."

"All will be revealed before long." Justin pulled out some clothes and started putting them on.

"You can't wear that," Brian protested, noting the jeans and shirt that Justin was putting on.

"This is what I wear to work every day."

"You're not in charge every day. I am."

"Oh?" Justin looked thoughtful. "Maybe I should wear something a little more … sophisticated.

Brian nodded his head. "Wear your blue suit."

"Christ! I can dress myself, you know." Brian looked at him, skepticism written all over his face. "Okay, I'll wear the blue suit," Justin said, giving in.

"Good."

The phone rang and Justin reached for it. He answered and then handed it to Brian.

"Who is it?"

"Your son."

Brian smiled. "Hey, Sonny Boy, are you feeling better?"

"A little bit."

"That's good."

"You're sick, Dada?"

"Yeah, we seem to have the same thing."

"Your throat hurts?"

"Yep. Did yours hurt real bad?"

"Yes, Dada."

"But it's better now?" Brian asked hopefully. It had been three days since Gus got sick.

"Kinda. It still hurts a bit."

"When can you leave the house?" Brian asked hoping to gauge how long Justin was going to make him stay in bed.

"Maybe tomorrow," Gus said.

"I hope they set you free tomorrow, Sonny Boy."

"Me too, Dada."

"I thought you were going to call me Daddy," Brian reminded him.

"I am … when I'm better."

Brian chuckled. "Okay, that's a deal."

"Love you, Dada," Gus said.

"Love you too, Sonny Boy. We'll both be better soon."

"Good," Gus stated.

"Take your medicine," Brian reminded his son.

"You too, Dada."

Brian pushed the end button on the phone and set it on the bed beside him. He looked around noting that Justin had disappeared. He took the juice glass that was on the night stand and drained the rest of the juice. There wasn't much left, but it felt cool and good on his throat.

"Justin!" he called. He wanted some more juice.

He heard the front door bell ring. That must be his minder for the day. He wondered which one of his hapless friends was called upon to look after him. If it was Michael, that would be good. He could make Michael do whatever he wanted. They would have a good day. If it was Emmett, the big fairy would mother him to death and order him around. That wouldn't be so good, but Emmett would take good care of him. It couldn't be Ted, because he would be at 4Front with Justin, and Lindsay had to look after Gus. Oh God! It might be Debbie. She'd smother him and make him eat, and pester the fucking life out of him. Maybe it wouldn't be Debbie, he thought to himself. Maybe it'll be Vic. Yeah, Vic. That would be good. He would enjoy spending the day with Vic.

"Justin!" he called again. "Who was that?"

"We'll be up in a minute," Justin called.

"Who's 'we'?"

"You'll see in a minute."

"Fuck!" It must be someone bad.

"Here's your nurse for the day," Justin said stepping into the room.

"Yeah, and who might that be?" Brian asked.

Melanie Marcus stepped through the door.

"Fuck!"