bbs- banana banana shot? (booty booty squad?)

omg its delitoonz

hello my honey hello my darling hello my ragtime gal~

send me a kiss by wire, baby my hearts on fireee

(i dont remember the rest right now but have fun)

-

“You are, by far, the biggest asshole I have ever met,” Luke announces. The pain in his throat makes him cringe, though it won't stop him from giving his boyfriend a piece of his mind. At least, not yet it wasn't.

“What? What did I do?” Jonathan squirms around to face Luke in bed, though he's having quite a bit of trouble moving in the cocoon of blankets he's currently in.

Luke shifts slightly, sitting himself up to speak better. If he was gonna die like this (which, considering how shitty he felt, was entirely possible), he may as well tell Jonathan what he's been dying to tell him. “Well, first off,” he starts, voice raspy and quieter than usual, “you change your mind five fucking times about coming to this convention with me, one of them being on the day before I leave-”

“Okay, I know that, but what else?” Jonathan cuts him off with an amused look.

Luke huffs in frustration, resisting the urge to cough. “Then you catch god knows what in the eight hours we spent flying  and in the airports, and then you have the nerve, the fucking nerve to give it to me the second we get back home!” Luke continues with his rant angrily, doing his best to ignore the increasing pain in his throat as he speaks. “And not only that, but you still hog the blankets like some ass! Why you even at my house, huh?”

Before he can go off again, he begins to cough up a storm from raising his voice so much. Jonathan wriggles out of his blankets and runs off to the kitchen to get him something to drink. Luke takes advantage of this and snatches his extra blankets out of the pile, covering himself up sloppily.

Jon's back quickly, a glass of water and some pills with him. He hands the pills to Luke, who glances down at them and then glares at his friend. “Pills won't stop my coughing.”

Jonathan grins and nods. “I know, but the stuff I gave you earlier is wearing off. That's why you're coughing so much more. Now come on, let Doctor Delirious help you out.”

Luke snorts and then winces when it hurts his already sore throat. He ignores the smug grin on Jonathan's face, and takes his medicine without a word.

He will admit, however, that the kiss Jonathan gives him afterwards makes him feel much better than before. Luke may be all sore throats and bad headaches, and he may be sniffling and coughing like crazy, but Jonathan is here to help and that's all Luke really needs.

(That and something to keep this damn headache from getting any worse.)

Luke groans quietly and tugs at Jonathan's shirt pleadingly. It was the only way he could really communicate without hurting his throat or getting out of bed. He has no idea where his phone is, and he's fucked up his throat more than enough for today.

“Huh? What's wrong, Luke?” Jonathan turns to Luke, a concerned look on his face.

Luke holds his arms out. He wants attention. Being stuck in bed all day starts to drive you crazy after a while. He wasn't normally this sick, but whatever mysterious airport disease Jon gave him was kicking his ass, both figuratively and literally.  

Jonathan, being Jonathan, knows exactly what he wants and snickers as he backs away from Luke. “Nuh- uh, you just got mad at me for being in your house, you can't ask me for attention like that, no sir.”

Luke, displeased by his answer, opens his mouth to yell at Jon. “What the fu-”

“Shhhh,” Jonathan coos, hand clamping over Luke's mouth. “No yelling Cartoonz! You sound bad enough already. Yell any more and you're not gonna get my special soup! I don't gotta put up with any of your shit!”

The smug grin that appears on Jon's face afterwards makes Luke want to slap him. The thing is, however, his arms are nice and warm (maybe even too warm) in the blankets, and he feels really comfy where he is. So, basically, he doesn't slap the shit out of Jonathan. Instead he kicks the blankets off of him, shivering lightly at the coolness of the room.

He also realizes that Jonathan has gone off somewhere else in his house, though he's not sure where. This is a problem solely because Luke can't call him. If he yells, he's gonna regret it. He can't text him or call him because he has no idea where his phone is.

So Luke does the next best thing and kicks the bed in frustration, a small thump coming from the poor bed. He knows Jonathan must hear it because he fucking laughs, all the way down from somewhere in the living room or kitchen.

“Gimme a moment! Wait, dammit!” Jonathan calls back to Luke, closely followed by some odd clanging noises and giggling. Luke doesn't bother asking what he's doing (not that he could, anyways).

When Jonathan comes back, it's with a bowl of soup and a teddy bear tucked under one arm. He sets the bowl besides Luke and slides into bed next to him. Jon kisses his cheek gently and smiles. “Come on. I made your favorite,” he chuckles. “It's chicken noodle soup. And I didn't burn it this time, isn't that great?”

Luke rolls his eyes and coughs as quietly as he can. He snuggles up to Jon (ignoring his complaints) and begins to eat his soup.

-

“Why does it taste so watery?” Luke asks, mouth full of soup. He ignores the way his voice is hoarse and raspy the best he can.

“What do you mean watery? I made it the way it says to,” Jonathan says. He stubbornly takes the bowl out of Luke's hands with a huff. “Fine. Since you're so ungrateful I'll just eat it myself.”

The very next day Jonathan is in bed besides Luke with a massive stomach ache. Luke can't quite tease him about it right now, but the looks on Jonathan's face gives him enough satisfaction for now.