ficlets of characters you don't know

i'm not sick, i'm just bothered.

[copy-pasted directly from google docs.]
general tags: SICK FIC I WROTE A SICK FIC AND I ACTUALLY DID RESEARCH FOR THIS SHIT YOU BETTER BE IMPRESSED BRO
tw: still cursing, mentions of sickness, dry heaving, caro being a little bitch

"Oh."

Richie stands over Caro with a distasteful expression as the door to the bathroom swings closed behind him.

"The fuck you mean, oh? Can you turn off the light?" Caro demands, voice rough and strained. He's sitting on the tiled floor next to the toilet with one knee up to his chest and the other outstretched, all casual-like, as if it's totally normal to be collapsed and leaning against the tank to stay upright.

He flicks off the switch and the room dims, light coming from the small opaque window above the tub and from the cracks in the door.

"I was looking for you. Did you," Richie frowns, stopping mid-sentence. He walks over to the medicine cabinet and pulls out a mask to wear.

"You look fucking stupid." It would have sounded a bit more mean if his voice wasn't barely above whisper level.

"I'm not getting sick," he says with a scowl, squatting in front of Caro. "What do you have?"

"Fuck like I'd know."

Richie's glasses fog up from the annoyed sigh he gives. He presses the back of his hand against a vexed-looking Caro's forehead.

"Symptoms?"

"Fuck you."

He rolls his eyes, standing up to pull a thermometer out of the medicine cabinet.

"Have you been here since early morning? I thought I heard something around one."

"Fuck you."

"Aren't you irritable when you're sick."

He punches him in the leg. Well, 'punch' is a kind word. It was closer to a tap, really.

Richie crouches down in front of him again, now looking a lot more concerned than he did before. "That was pitiful."

"Fuck off."

"Are you cold?" he asks now, eyebrows furrowed.

Caro crosses his arms, eyes narrowing. "... no."

Richie makes a face at him like sure, I believe that. "Right, okay." He gives him the thermometer and leaves to go get something warmer for him to wear.

———

"Why are you wearing that?" Joey asks with passive disgust reminiscent of Richie's usual tone. "It's hideous."

He walks in front of the TV to get to the bedrooms. "I suggest you do the same. Caro caught something."

"No, wear a mask? To cover up my beautiful face? I can't believe you." He mocks with a sneer.

Rich rolls his eyes.

———

Caro has his eyes closed when Richie returns, head tilted back against the cold hard wall. Both his knees have since been pulled up to his chest, and he's just slightly shaking. The thermometer lies neglected on the floor.

He nudges him with his foot. "If you're going to sleep, you'd be better in bed."

"I'm already great in bed," he grumbles, a sudden downward tick of his eyebrow in his otherwise idle posture.

Richie kneels down in front of him, holding up a heavy-knitted jumper. "Come on, Caro. Either you stay here on the cold restroom floor or move to your actually warm bed. Your choice."