Immediately Before Jean-Loup pushed the door open with his elbow, balancing the small tea tray carefully. He fondly surveyed the small huddle of blankets in the centre of the bed.
“Nǐ néng dú gěi wǒ tīng ma?” the blankets mumbled.
“Sorry, Lapinou - I still don’t speak Chinese,” he replied, kicking the door shut behind him. He grinned as the blankets unrolled, Dorian sitting up sharply at the sound of the unexpected voice.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, switching to French.
“I knew you were sick, so I thought I’d come and see if I can make you feel better. Your mother sent me up with this,” he added, gesturing with the tea tray. He placed the tray on Dorian’s nightstand and settled on the bed beside him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, which felt distressingly warm. “You are not well,” he confirmed.
“No,” Dorian confirmed, “Probably not much fun either.”
“Hey,” Jean-Loup protested, “I don’t just come to see you for ‘fun.’ I come to see you because you’re mine and I want to be around you.”
“Even when I’m all gross?” Dorian asked, retreating slightly into the blankets, conscious that he was probably pale and sweaty and maybe even smelt bad.
“Especially when you’re all gross,” Jean-Loup stated, and then seeing Dorian’s confused look, rephrased, “Okay, maybe not ‘especially.’ Obviously, I’d rather you weren’t sick. I just meant… One of my jobs is taking care of you. And we miss out on so many other things,” he thought about all the dates they couldn’t go on, all the presents they had to give in secret. There were benefits, of course, to no one thinking they needed to be supervised when in each other’s company… But this - bringing Dorian medicine, checking in on him - it felt the same as it would have done for anyone else, or how it would be if this worked out in the long term. When it worked out in the long term. It was one thing he could do right, and it was one thing that he could imagine in this crazy future of Dorian’s where they had a real life together because he already had permission to do it now. “I like getting to do the boyfriend thing properly,” he explained, handing over a small cup of the steaming tea.
“You do do the boyfriend thing properly,” Dorian assured him, taking the cup and leaning in against Jean-Loup’s shoulder. “I love you,” he tried tentatively. It wasn’t the first time they’d said it - he’d let Jean-Loup be the one to make that move, seeing as a ‘real relationship’ had seemed to be something he was so unsure about - but the number of times could be counted, each one a vivid memory of a perfect moment. It was still saved for special occasions.
“I love you too,” Jean-Loup replied. He kept one hand in Dorian’s hair, pressing him in close and lazily peppered the top of his head with kisses. Dorian waited, letting it sink in for a moment, before he changed the subject.
“Tell me what you did today. In detail,” he requested.
“I really haven’t done much,” Jean-Loup answered.
“I have done literally nothing. And I feel like listening, not talking,” he added. The small size of the teacups and being accustomed to drinking his beverages hot meant that he had dispatched the cup quite quickly. He should probably drink more than one. He resolved to do that in a minute… For now it was so nice to lay his head against his boyfriend’s chest and listen to the steady murmur of his voice as talked about his morning work-out, accompanied by the soft, regular beat of his heart.
“Told you it was boring,” Jean-Loup murmured to himself after a few minutes, as the regularity of Dorian’s breathing indicated that he had fallen asleep. He decided to take it as a compliment rather than an insult. Dorian clearly felt safe and calm in his arms, which sounded like just the way things should be. And clearly, he needed rest right now. It was hard to be upset when he had someone so cute nuzzled against his chest. It was hard to be upset when the person he loved was being looked after, especially by him. He sipped his coffee and let his boyfriend sleep. It was hard to be upset, or to have any wish to disturb him, even when Jean-Loup got a crick in the neck.
That was how time passed. That was how the moment of Dorian waking up, looking and feeling a little better, was disconnected from the moment Jean-Loup had come in.
“Good morning,” Dorian grinned playfully, even though it was already midafternoon. He traced a hand lazily across the chest he’d been sleeping on. “I could get used to waking up like this,” he added with a smile, pushing himself up so he could look appreciatively at Jean-Loup.
That was how he forgot his hands had been full.
“Mm. Me too,” Jean-Loup smiled, running a hand through Dorian’s hair. And trying hard not to push. Dorian was sick… And was looking coy and playful. And those freaking eyelashes…
How he forgot that he had merely kicked the door shut behind him.
“Am I too gross to kiss?” Dorian asked sadly. He thought he probably looked a state right now, and he didn’t want to make Jean-Loup sick.
“Never,” Jean-Loup assured him. “I think I’d like to kiss this bit…” he suggested, pressing his lips against Dorian’s neck, “And this bit,” he continued, moving up, “And this bit,” he continued, teasing his way to Dorian’s own lips.