Tyler's arms wrap around your waste and you know he's almost awake. He likes you to be in his arms so you're the first thing he sees when he wakes up. His nose sniffles a little bit and he rests his forehead against your bare neck. He feels incredibly hot and he groans a bit as he opens your eyes. You turn to face him and say good morning with a kiss on the nose. "Hi." He mumbles in his cute groggy morning voice.
"Are you feeling okay?" You ask as you feel his forehead again.
"I'm not feeling great, no. Which is not, by the way, sick." He responds while giggling at his own joke. You roll your eyes then roll out of bed. Your (h/c) hair is a mess but Tyler's the main priority right now. You hear his footsteps follow you into the bathroom as you rummage through the medicine cabinet.
Finally finding the thermometer, you take Tyler's temp, and know he won't be happy about it. "You're going to have to cancel your plans with Josh, because you're sick." He begins to protest but you cut him off by asking, "Do you want to get your 'fren' sick?" He looks down and nods his head no. You take his hand and lead him back to his side of the bed. It's the side closest to the door so it's easier for him to crawl in with you if he doesn't want to be alone. He makes himself into a little Bean burrito and looks up at you with those lovely hazel eyes. You kiss his forehead and go to the kitchen.
• • •
"Tyler!" You yell to the bedroom as the soup comes off the oven. He walks into the kitchen half asleep, and plops himself down. "Thank you, (y/n). You're sick."
"No you're sick." You say with accidental sass. He raises an eyebrow at you but soon falls drowsy again. You feel bad for the little bean, but he does look pretty cute. Like a toddler who just got up from a nap and can't keep their eyes open. "I know you're tired, Ty, but try to eat a little. Please." You say as you take a sip of the warm liquid. You feel it travel down your throat as the warmth sends shivers down your back.
After a few small sips, Tyler lays on the floor, wrapped in a blanket, and falls asleep. Or so you think. "Come lay with me." He whines as you walk past.
"You're sick, Bean! I don't want what you have!" You say, sitting cross-cross-apple-sauce next to him so his back is facing you. You rub his back and he lets out a small sigh of content. You can't help but smile as his breathing evens and he turns around so he's facing you. He mumbles something in his sleep that sounds like "love you," while his grasp searches for your hand. "I love you too, Baby Bean."