The Sensible One (boyxboy) ✓

Chapter Five

He stepped inside past me and closed the door.

"Maxwell! You're unwell!"

I shook my head, trying to understand why he was here at this time of night.

"You are." He hissed, misunderstanding me. "You can't just run off the moment you feel sick and think we won't get worried, I was tasked with seeking you out and then you don't answer your phone or the door and it's bloody cold out there."

I frowned. "I am sorry, you know I don't answer calls so late."

"Hardly that late, we left early. It's only late now because you didn't answer." He hung his scarf on the coat rack and sat on the stool by the shoe rack to undo his shoes and set them aside neatly with mine, turning back to me as he got up.

The room tilted and I leaned on the wall.

"Look at you, you fool, you're so sick you can barely stand." He moved beside me. "Come, give me your arm. I'm taking you back to bed."

He took my arm and I rested it around neck, the support was welcome but there was a strange feeling in my gut the closer I got to him that made me feel queasy. 

We made it up the stairs, which was easier than going down them for some reason, and soon enough I was back in bed, feeling very, very cold. I shivered. 

He tutted, looking down at me. He undid his tie and placed it on the chair. 

"You're soaked, that's why you're cold." He remarked. "I'm going to get you some extra blankets and... I'll open the window in the next room and close this one." As he did so, he looked back, pulling my slippers off that I had forgotten to remove. "Why aren't you wearing socks?" He sighed. "You're looking to catch your death aren't you?"

I shook my head, my joints ached. "I don't know what's come over me." I told him. "I'm just all hot all of a sudden."

"Has it happened before?"

I nodded. "Only recently..." Ever since...

He looked concerned, sitting beside me on the bed, placing his hand on my forehead.

I wanted to pull away and reproached myself for even wanting that when he was trying to help me. 

"Well it's not likely to be malaria or something is it? It almost sounds like it. I've absolutely not business doctoring though, I only know of it because I caught it in the army. Not some of my best days. I'll get you some water. You'll drink at least two glasses before sleeping."

I groaned. "I'm really not very thirsty Jeff."

He shook his head. "Of course you aren't. You'll still drink when I tell you to."

I said nothing as he left but was quietly warmed by the gesture. I wasn't used to people taking care of me, even when I was young there wasn't much call for it in our house that despite my father being relatively wealthy and usually not too busy.

Jeffrey was a different sort though, and what he couldn't do in doctoring he made up for in caring and capable.

When we were young he proved this well. His mother had Parkinson's when she was with him, he was very young when he cared for her, around fourteen. I never thought it something difficult back then and barely asked about it because he seemed so comfortable taking care of her and spoke of it so matter-of-factly. Only when she finally passed did I realise how much it must have weighed on him, he spoke sadly of how much she had been through.

I resolved not to show how strangely antisocial I was feeling, it was not only rude but downright unacceptable to not accept care where it was offered, especially from a dear friend.

"Back," He whispered as he entered the room. He brought with him a glass and a jug of water and served me some water. "Is your throat sore?" He asked.

I shook my head.

"Sneezing? Blocked nose?"

"No, I'm really quite alright aside from my temperature."

He hummed. "Do you have a thermometer anywhere?"

I shook my head. "Regretfully no."

He tutted again, heading towards the cupboards and opening each one to find where the blankets and duvet covers were stored. He pulled out two, one for me and one for himself I guessed.

The extra blanket was stifling but I was also cold so it must have made sense.

"You really are burning up. I'll wash you down a bit, it will make you feel better." He promised.

My head spun and I leaned back in my bed, feeling a little better.

He returned with a wet towel and a small tub of water and he sat beside me, touching my head a moment before taking the towel to it.

The cool water felt good, but every time his fingers only accidentally grazed me I felt like shifting away desperately, I tried not to give way to those panicky thoughts but occasionally I would flinch, those fingers beginning to feel like sandpaper somehow.

The washing continued as I drifted off. "You know..." I murmured, feeling rather far off, possibly dreaming. "It would make more sense to begin a relationship with you... It's strange that we never even considered it..."

Jeffrey laughed smugly. "Everyone wants to date me at some point my dear man. You are no exception. If I weren't so abhorrently asexual I might have been quite the slut."

I laughed and my head pounded.

"Going to replace the water." He whispered. Moving away.

I missed the cool water immediately, my eyes fluttering as I tried to sleep or wake up but wasn't able. I couldn't bare it, I sought out the shirt I had folded and set beside my bed on a chair, I hugged it to me and inhaled. It felt so good that I was stunned by it, another deep inhaled proved it only useful to an extent but I knew I would not be able to sleep without it.

Before he got back I was dozing off, hugging the shirt to my chest. My dreams sending me out on the street, wandering somewhere, looking for him...

[A/N] Warm hugs to my patrons ( ㅅ˘ ᵕ ˘  ) ♡

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