Jace Herondale (uniquetake) wrote in worldsapart_ic, @ 2019-05-16 20:09:00 |
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This was literally the first and hopefully last time Rhys Hunt had ever experienced being sick because he would do whatever it took to never feel like this again. He definitely would not recommend and he was pretty sure he looked as shit as he felt so in hindsight having Ryder over was probably a bad idea because yeah he definitely wasn't looking his best. He hadn't even gotten dressed this morning so he was still slopping around his apartment in a pair of grey jogging pants.
He'd managed to get out of bed to unlock the door as instructed before he'd gone and crashed back into it, blonde strands going pretty much everywhere because yeah no styling involved and he was rocking a five 'o' clock shadow as well which wasn't so much a shadow given his blondeness.
Jesus, this fucking sucked. It really did.
Ryder let himself into Rhys' place, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it up before re-locking the door, toeing off his shoes and picking up the bag of medicine he'd grabbed on the way over. He hadn't been expecting to impulsively offer to come over, and really he hadn't asked he'd just... stated and Rhys hadn't argued with him.
He figured he could unpack that later.
He rubbed his fingers through his hair and found a glass (after carefully looking through a couple of cupboards first), sticking the less immediately-needed items in the fridge and then walking through to Rhys' room.
The first thing he did was flick on the AC which started humming quietly and he cleared his throat just in case Rhys hadn't noticed him coming in. Though, as a werewolf, he probably already had done.
"Mornin' sunshine," he drawled.
"Morning," he rumbled from where his head was buried in his pillows before he turned his head to rest his gaze on Ryder who fuck him very much still looked damn gorgeous. He wet his lower lip and shifted a little until he was no longer on his front but was rather resting on his back and with his head tipped in Ryder's direction.
It was as he actually spoke to Ryder that he realised how rough his voice actually sounded.
"Jesus you sound like shit," Ryder muttered, twirling the glass he had in his palm and moving towards the bed, sitting on the edge of it with the bag between his feet. He looked pretty rough, too, but Ryder was less bothered by that than he was about the fact that Rhys had gotten sick in the first place.
He grabbed the cold bottle of water he'd brought with him, pouring some of it into the glass and then holding it out, his other hand resting on the bed just beside Rhys' hip. "Sit up, drink this, I'm gonna get you a cold compress. Bathroom through there?"
Rhys snorted quietly. "Thanks." He grimaced faintly as moving honestly took way more effort than it should but eventually he was properly sat up and able to reach the glass of water. "Mm, yeah, right through there." Thankfully his bathroom was pretty clean so nothing too embarrassing for Ryder to happen across save for a penchant for aftershaves and colognes.
He started by taking small sips before he worked up to much bigger sips of the water, not realising how thirsty he was until it was right there in front of him.
Ryder got to his feet once Rhys was upright and disappeared into the bathroom, not really having a nosey around since it wasn't his place. He did find a washcloth and soaked it in cold water before wringing it out and returning.
"Here," he murmured softly, brushing Rhy's sweat-soaked hair from his forehead and placing the cloth there instead, using the touch to gently ease Rhys back against the wall so he was leaning on the headboard for support rather than sitting up on his own power. "Can't believe you've never been sick before."
"Generally speaking I have a pretty iron clad immune system," Rhys shared with a wry smile before his eyes closed at the touch of Ryder's hand followed by the blessedly cold and damp press of the cloth. He hadn't realised how hot he was until this moment. "But apparently not this time round."
He took a further sip of his water and tipped his head to look at Ryder. "Thanks for coming over."
"Well, take it from someone who got sick pretty much every winter, it ain't fun. So I'm not gonna hold any of this shit against you." Ryder kept his hand gently over the cloth to keep it in place while Rhys' head was moving about.
With his other hand, he refilled the glass, since Rhys had pretty much drained it. "Don't mention it, man, you'da done the same for me."
Rhys' eyebrows lifted at the confession from Ryder that he was pretty much sick every winter and he grimaced. "That must have sucked." He exhaled a breath but as he did a cough caught him unawares and he struggled with containing it as it all but exploded out of his chest until eventually he sagged back and pushed out a pained breath. "Mm, fuck."
"And you're right, I would."
"Don't fight the coughs, man," Ryder said softly, rubbing Rhys' back in large, firm circles, pulling his hand back when they subsided and Rhys sank backwards.
He drew in a slow breath, replaced the cloth and fumbled in the bag for cherry-flavoured cough sweets, unwrapping one and offering it to Rhys. "Here, this'll help with the cough."
"Noted," Rhys managed breathlessly before he eyed the very strong smelling hard candy that Ryder was offering, suspicion clear and apparent in every sharp line of his face. He had half a mind to refuse but figured Ryder had made the effort so it would be rude for him to do just that and he took it.
Of course when he put it into his mouth he very quickly regretted it.
"Oh my God, what is this?"
"Medicated throat sweet," Ryder replied innocently, as though he didn't see the disgust that crossed over Rhys' face. "Soothes coughs and sore throats."
Rhys grimaced faintly. "Well, it's disgusting and I normally like the taste of cherry." Particularly on lips, but that was another matter entirely.
"It's all the medicine," Ryder teased lightly, moving the placement of the cloth from Rhys' forehead and gently running it over his collarbone, almost absently.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Rhys challenged though admittedly he was kind of enjoying the touch of the cloth on his collarbone, evident in how his skin betrayed him in showing its reaction by prickling ever so slightly.
"Enjoying your misery?" Ryder asked, eyebrow lifting. "Not at all." The cloth dragged over Rhys' collarbone again and though Ryder's skin wasn' touching his, it still felt intimate and Ryder began to second guess what he was doing.
Rhys snorted quietly before he just sucked on that disgusting cough sweet, shifting it around in his mouth in the hopes it might disperse some of the flavour. So far? It was not working.
He tipped his head back against the headboard before he swallowed, feeling the trickle of water escaping over his chest, and it honestly felt really nice.
"There's cough syrup for you to drink, too, I figured this might be a better start," Ryder said quietly, watching the water trickling down Rhys' chest and the cloth followed swiftly, mopping them up before they could soak into Rhys' sweatpants. He muttered an apology at how low the cloth had dipped, glancing away.
"Oh goody," Rhys drawled sarcastically before he chuckled, shaking his head a moment later. "It's okay, really." He reached out to catch Ryder's jaw with his hand and used that grip to turn the other wolf's face back towards him. "Alright?"
Ryder went still when Rhys' hand shot out and touched his face, letting him turn it and though he tried his best not to tip his head into it he failed miserably and his hand - which had been drawing the cloth back up Rhys' chest - went still, fingers splayed and fingertips touching his skin.
"You- you need to stay hydrated an' make sure that you're eatin' well. I've got-"
This moment, it felt heavy and intense, and definitely not at all 'friendly'. Rhys was very well aware of that and knew that this was probably the worst time for it considering he was a walking talking festering pit of sickness. Of course that didn't stop him from letting his thumb run the length of Ryder's cheekbone though it probably should have.
"You brought me food, huh?"
"Popular to contrary belief I do know how to cook," Ryder muttered, though he was obviously distracted by the touch to his cheek if the way he chased it when it stopped was any indication. He wet his lower lip, fought the irrational urge he felt to kiss Rhys' palm. "Besides, what kind of person would I be to bring you a care package and not include food?"
"Pretty crappy?" Rhys ventured with a slow smile that drew a dimple into his right cheek. His touch lingered for a moment until he caught himself and let it drop away, pushing his fingers into his hair instead. "I'm sure your food will taste better than this cough sweet."
Ryder laughed, "I don't know, you haven't tasted it yet." He moved his own hand quickly when Rhys' hand dropped from his face, flopping the cloth over Rhys' shoulder and getting to his feet, clearing his throat. That had felt intimate and inappropriate- what was wrong with him? "When was the last time you ate somethin'?"
Well, Ryder couldn't get away from him fast enough now could he? Rhys reached for the cloth that had been unceremoniously flopped over his shoulder and shifted it to press it to the inside of his wrists. "Uh, a day or so ago, I think?" He ventured as he smoothed the cloth up his arms and over his tattoos.
"A day?!" Ryder turned on the spot to look at Rhys and folded his arms across his chest. "Are you- damn, Rhys." He scooped up the bag and then held out his other hand for Rhys to take, fingers wiggling impatiently. "Right, I'm gonna make you somethin' now."
Rhys snorted softly before he took the hand that was being offered, grunting faintly as he used the grip to pull himself to his feet though regretted it a moment later as sure enough his head spun.
"Mm, fuck," he muttered as he blinked his eyes.
Luckily for Rhys, Ryder was there, immediately and unashamedly in his space, though he probably should have thought further ahead than stop Rhys from falling because his arm went around Rhys' waist and tugged him flush against his chest.
Rhys' breath caught somewhere in the back of his throat as he was pulled rather flush against Ryder's chest and he'd latched his fingers around the other wolf's shoulder. Well, this was the closest they'd been to one another and of course it would happen while he was sick. Life certainly had a twisted sense of humour.
"Mm, thanks."
Ryder couldn't breathe, Rhys' presence had a habit of messing with his brain anyway and he wet his lower lip, looking down with a lopsided smile, fingers flexing where they were resting just above the waistband of Rhys' sweatpants at the curve of his spine. "Uh- 's okay. C'mon, we- uh- food."
Well, that touch wasn't at all distracting. Nope. Not at all. "Yeah, food," he agreed with a wry smile as he flexed his hand around Ryder's shoulder which was blessedly clothed as it would be so much worse if it wasn't. "Or you know I might waste away into nothing." Dramatic but a fun kind of dramatic that definitely didn't take itself seriously.
Ryder chuckled and, in a moment of impulsivity he immediately cursed himself out for, dropped a kiss on Rhys' forehead, mumbling "Wouldn't want that, would we," against his skin before he was drawing away, mortified with himself for what he'd just done.
Rhys lifted his eyebrows at the kiss to his forehead, that was by far the most affectionate kiss he'd had outside of immediate pack and definitely was not the sort of kiss he was used to. Still, it was kind of nice. "No, wouldn't want that." He smoothed his hand over Ryder's shoulder and gripped the side of his neck before he lifted himself up onto toes (because yes he was slightly shorter) and pressed a kiss to the other wolf's cheek.
"Thanks for helping me out like this."
Ryder's breath audibly hitched and he flushed, ducking his head and almost legitimately scuffing his toes on the carpet. "I- uh- y-yeah it- ain't no big thing," he rumbled, embarrassed. "C'mon, let's get you fed."
Rhys nodded and with a softer smile than he normally gave he reluctantly untangled himself and headed in the direction of his kitchen where he would legitimately slouch in the nearest stool and watch Ryder work his magic, literal, figurative and metaphorical.