Larry sick fics

Harry sick and stubborn

"101."

"Shit. They didn't want to take him to the hospital? Make sure his head's okay?"

"Mr. King of Self-Care over here refused to let them get him in an ambulance."

Louis rolls his eyes, giving himself a light smack on the forehead with his  palm. "Of course not. I can't even be surprised by that. Okay, I'm  heading over there now, just do me a favor and make sure he stays put."

"Don't  worry, he's lying on the couch. Paramedics gave him an ice pack for the  bump and I grabbed a big bottle of water for him."

"Did he drink any of it?"

"He asked for a coffee."

"Jesus. I'm on my way."

Shoving his phone in his back pocket, Louis wastes no time in taking the few long strides back to his desk to collect his keys.

"Everything good with Harry?" Amanda asks cautiously, watching him with a tilted head and curious expression.

"No, he's an idiot," Louis says. "He's got a fever and passed out. Gemma's taking care of him until I get there."

"Oh." Amanda rises halfway up from her seat, looking uncertain. "Do you need— Can I help?"

Louis offers her a grateful smile. "Nah, I have it handled. He'll be okay, I  just need to get him to the doctor then get him home. Thanks."

"Of  course." She lowers herself back onto her chair, her mouth twitching.  "He probably wouldn't want me to witness him like that anyway. Tell him I  said get well soon."

"You're not wrong," Louis says with a laugh, "I'll check in later."

It  takes thirty-three minutes to get to their house, and Louis is  still cursing the traffic as he approaches the doors to their house.  He could've walked here faster, frankly, but his frustrations vanish  once he catches sight of Gemma gesturing wildly through the window.

"That can't be good," he mutters to himself, taking in a deep breath before reaching for the door handle.

"—fourth time  you've asked me, how many times do I have to tell you the answer is  no?" Gemma looks up at Louis as he walks in, her eyes dangerously wide  with a glimmer of ferocity, and she points at Harry. "How do you deal  with him every single day?"

"Same way you do," Louis retorts,  choking back a laugh when she folds her hands and holds them up to her  lips. He glances over at Harry, very nearly letting out an  unintentional "awww" at pitiful sight of his boyfriend sprawled out on  the couch. One leg is stretched out, his foot propped up on the arm of  the couch, but the other is kicked over the edge and bent at the knee,  foot firmly planted on the floor. One hand holds an ice pack at his  right temple and Harry's eyes lift up, his lips forming a perfect pout. 

"She doesn't care that I'm on my deathbed," Harry says, "can you believe that? Where's the loyalty?"

"The  loyalty is right here trying to force feed you water, which, by the  way, was never in my job description," Gemma snaps. She turns to Louis  again. "I need to go home now, Michal's already waiting for me . He's  your problem now."

Louis bites down on the inside of his cheek, nodding earnestly. "Don't worry, I'll take it from here. Thanks for your help."

Gemma steps toward the couch, giving Harry a swat on the arm, brushing right  past his exaggerated yelp. "Get better. Drink lots of water. Listen to Louis."

"Yes, mother," Harry says, scowling at her, though there's a gentle affection behind it that only he ever seems able to manage.

"You're  lucky I didn't call mum," Gemma tells him, rendering Harry  silent. With a satisfied nod, she spins on her heels and heads out the room, sharing a conspiratorial smile with Louis on the way.

Louis waits for the door to click shut before he takes a seat at the edge of  the table in front of the couch, feeling Harry's cheek then taking Harry's free hand in his. "Oh, babe, you're burning up. You should have  told me."

Harry gives him an accusatory glare. "Why, so you could spend the entire morning babying me?"

"Because that's worse than the alternative, which is this?"

Narrowing his eyes, Harry scoffs but shrugs a conciliatory shoulder. "Touché."

Louis has to smile. His husband is stubborn, he will always be stubborn,  but that changes nothing. In the end, he'll always want to do whatever  it takes to make sure Harry is taken care of, it's what Harry deserves. The nicest  thing about it, Louis thinks, is Harry does the same for him, even if  it's in his own way.

"Let me take you to the doc, okay?"

"That's  not necessary." Harry pushes himself up on an elbow as if to prove his  point but it's a failed effort because he immediately sways in place,  his eyes squeezing shut to ward off the dizziness. "On second thought,  that might not be such a terrible idea."

"Yeah, no kidding." Louis  bends to help him up, moving slowly and carefully until Harry is  steady enough to take his first step toward the door. "Next time, let's  avoid passing out in the middle of the day."

"Better reserved for morning or late evening?"

"Hilarious. I'm just trying to take care of you, smartass."

Harry stops short, tugging at the back of Louis' shirt. He studies Louis'  face for a moment before leaning in so their lips meet for a soft, quick  kiss. "You do. You always take care of me. Don't ever think for a  second I don't love and appreciate you for it."

Louis hums, pressing another kiss to one of Harry's brown curls. "Wow, the fever's really getting' to you, isn't it?"

"Oh,  shut up." Harry gives him a little shove, grimacing at Louis' burst  of laughter. "You've just lost your half of my assets."

"Good thing I'll have a very long time to try to earn it back."

"Only if I don't kill you first."