Requested by newtstrackhoe. Hope you enjoy! sorry it's so delayed :/
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You woke up this morning to the worst kind of sickness. You threw up after ten minutes of being awake, which went perfectly with your pounding headache and cramping stomachache. Your nose was runny and your skin was dry-- it had to be the flu.
After spending forever lying in bed, you eventually had the energy to walk out into the living room and turn on the tv. Your parents were out all week for a trip, so you had the house all to yourself.
You hadn't been sitting there like a bum for too long before there was a knock on your front door, and you freak out. If it was Shawn, your boyfriend of five months, you knew he would just walk right in-- and he had never seen you sick before. You scramble to your bedroom, but before you could get inside, Shawn had already let himself in.
"Y/N?" he calls out. "You weren't at school today, are you okay?"
You admittedly had been avoiding his texts, knowing that he would come over if you told him you were sick.
"Oh, I'm fine!" you call out from the closed bedroom door. If Shawn sees you for the first time looking like you do now, he might not want to be with you. Over the past five months, he's never seen you without makeup, or wearing something that didn't come from a big-name mall store.
"Are you... hey sweetie, are you sick?" His voice got louder as he approached your bedroom door, which you leaned against on the other side.
"I'm not sick," you argue quickly, cringing when your voice comes out all groggy like the croak of a dying frog. "I'm fine! So... you can go."
"You don't sound fine." He knocks thrice on your door, laughing. "You don't have to hide from me if you're sick, cuddlebug. You could've just told me, I would've stayed home with you."
You shake your head, even though he couldn't see you. "I haven't been sick in years."
"Great, okay," Shawn giggles. "Then come on out and we'll go shopping or something."
"Well actually I already went shopping today. That's why I ditched, yeah."
"Yeah?"
"Mm-hmm," you nod nervously. "So anyways, I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I'm gonna go to bed. It's getting late, I'm a little sleepy."
"Y/N?"
"What?" you respond defensively.
"It's three o' clock in the afternoon."
You groan, checking yourself in the mirror before shoving your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants. You looked awful, but you opened the door.
"I'm tired," you say, "now get out of my house."
You hardly caught a glance of him before shutting the door again, but he stops you with his arm. He was a lot stronger than you, unfortunately. He forces the door open and steps into your bedroom, taking you in from head to toe after you give up.
"S-see?" you say quietly. You try to turn around so he couldn't see your face. "I'm totally fine."
"Y/N, cut the crap," he steps closer to you, his hands resting on your hips. You refuse to look up at him, even though you could feel him looking at you. "It's not a crime to be sick. It's a human thing. Now come and lay down on the couch. Do you want some soup? I can make some real quick."
You turn around, slipping out of his grasp. "Don't even look at me, I can take care of myse-- "
You didn't even have time to finish your sentence, because you could feel the vomit coming up your throat, and all you could feel was mortification as you ran towards the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before you throw up everywhere.
"Okay, god, Y/N," Shawn runs after you, and you could hear him opening up cabinets and turning on the sink as you continued to vomit into the toilet.
"Go away-- "
You couldn't form a coherent sentence without coughing and gagging in the middle. Shawn rushes towards you, waiting for you to finish before he helps you up and practically carries you over to your bed.
He lays you down and uses the wet rag in his right hand to wipe your mouth, sitting down on the edge of your mattress and stroking your hair away from your face.
"It's okay," he says in a sweet, quiet voice. "Don't resist. Don't resist. Just stay right there, I'm going to take care of you."
It could've been that you were too crapped out to move, or that his words had finally created an effect on you-- but you stayed there, and waited for Shawn to come back from cleaning up the bathroom.
He returns ten minutes later holding a bowl of ramen noodles and a glass of ginger ale. You couldn't help but smile at the sight.
"Here you go," he sets your meal down on your nightstand. You didn't feel like eating anything, your throat still burning from earlier, but you appreciated him anyway.
Shawn fishes a small plastic bottle out of his pocket as he eases back down onto your bed, one hand on your thigh. He holds it up so you can see.
"Vapo rub," he says, "you put it on your chest and it helps with your allergies. Take off your shirt."
"Wait, what?" you cough.
"Take off your shirt," he could hardly say it without laughing, "and I'll put it on you."
"You better get away from me before you get sick, too," you warn him.
"That's completely off-topic."
You realized that there was no changing his mind, so with a smirk on your face, you sit up slowly and remove your tank top, throwing it on the floor and sitting half-naked in front of him on the bed.
He looks you over before his eyes return to your face, and he blushes. "Lovely as always."
He scoots closer to you, opening up the bottle and digging his fingers into the substance before pressing his fingers to your upper-chest. He rubs small circles, going slowly, your eyes never leaving his concentrated face.
He coughs once into his shoulder before returning, both of his hands to work now. He starts by using them both to smother your skin with the oily rub, but then he moves both hands to the sides of your body and moves down until they were grazing your rib cage, cracking a small smile.
"I can't believe you were afraid of being sick around me," he scoffs softly without looking up. He sounded like he had just woke up, his voice cracking.
"Shawn, you're... you're getting sick..."
"I don't mind, really. Just let me be here with you."
He nips slightly at your ear, moving in closer so that his hands cup your breasts. He holds you to his chest, lowering you onto the bed and kissing you quick, and you didn't even care that it was disgusting-- you knew that he loved you, and he loved taking care of you.
"Go to sleep, baby," you hear him whisper into your ear, so you close your eyes, your hands still attached to him, and you allow yourself to drift off.
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do u think we can get this to 200 votes?? plsssss (: