AloofAdrien
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Sick! (Short story)
🕑 Added 2023-05-02 23:44:11 +0000 UTC!WARNING!
mention of illness, fevers, and vomiting
No plot! Just slice of life
Gene was half awake, his breathing deep and heavy with unopened eyes. Despite sleeping in on the weekends, Gene had stirred awake from a fussy Jobie beside him. The smaller boy had tossed one way, ripping the blanket away from one half of the group, then the other way. He kicked at Gene’s calves and whined quietly, the covers growing uncomfortably warm as he wriggled.
Gene finally reached up to rub his face, turning his head to squint at Jobie, who was now turned away from him curled up. He reached out, tucking a piece of Jobie’s auburn hair behind his ear, letting Jobie know that he was awake now. Jobie only buried his face against the pillow.
Gene looked to his other side where Ace laid, his eyes still closed and his breathing still deep. His long lashes rested on his cheeks and his lips were just slightly parted. Gene studied him.
He reached a hand out, gliding his finger down Ace’s forehead to the tip of his nose, feeling the way his bridge curved to a point. Then again, then again.
Ace smiled and turned his head away as though it tickled. Gene felt a warmth spread in his chest, getting up on his elbows to crawl closer and kiss Ace’s neck. He buried his face in Ace’s curly hair, placing slow pecks up to his ear, making Ace raise his shoulder and let out a short laugh.
“Gene-” He said.
“Mornin.” Gene responded, his voice low and groggy.
“Hi.”
Ace shifted, wrapping his thin arms around Gene’s waist to pull him closer. Gene obeyed, laying with his head on Ace’s shoulder and a leg across Ace’s hip. Gene sighed through his nose as Ace’s fingers ran through his hair, sliding across his thick red locks. They melted against one another, bodie’s warm and still asleep.
Jobie began to fuss behind Gene again, and the sheets got pulled away from half of Ace’s body. The bed shifted beside them and quick thuds ran to the bathroom, the light flicking on. Ace and Gene stayed put until the horrible lurch of a heave echoed in the bathroom, then the splash of vomit into a toilet bowl.
“Oh no-” Ace muttered, sitting up. “Jobie?” He called.
Gene immediately shifted out of bed, jogging to the bathroom. He knelt down beside Jobie, scooping up a fistfull of his hair to hold it back firmly while the poor boy puked again into the bowl. Gene rubbed his burning eyes with his free hand, taking in a big breath through his nose to wake himself up.
Jobie waited at the bowl, ready to puke again. Gene tucked a rogue piece of hair behind Jobie’s ear, then began to slide his palm up and down his back.
“Aww Jobie,” Ace cooed, lingering by the door.
“What.” Jobie shot back.
“Aye, watch it.” Gene warned, to which Jobie growled.
“Oh god, is he sick? Jobie, did you eat something?”
Jobie did not respond, sitting back against Gene with a pale face. Gene placed a palm on his forehead, the skin burning against his hand.
“Fever,” Gene said, and Ace’s expression revealed the drop he felt in his stomach.
Rory appeared in the doorway, wrapping an arm around Ace’s waist to lazily lean against him. His hair was untamed and his voice was groggy.
“Little maniac sick?” He asked.
“We don't know.” Ace replied.
“He’s sick.” Gene said, reaching forward to flush the toilet, then to scoop Jobie up.
Ace took several steps back as Gene and Jobie passed the doorway and out of the bedroom. Despite Jobie’s wriggling, Gene managed to get him to lay on
the couch with a cold damp rag on his forehead and a large bowl on the coffee table.
Although sharing two bathrooms, three bedrooms, one kitchen, and one living room between four men was a struggle, Ace’s least favorite part was a shared illness. If one boy was sick, all of them were sick, and it was typically Jobie who showed signs first.
He squirmed and kicked on the couch, making demands and whining whenever Gene or Rory would pass by. Ace refused to come out of his room,
isolating himself.
Gene made a breakfast of eggs and waffles with strawberry slices, then warmed up a bowl of tomato soup for Jobie to reject. Gene and Rory sat on the couch with him while eating, the TV on and the volume low. Jobie’s feet continued to fuss and kick while on Gene’s lap, his heel hitting Gene in the gut once which earned him a;
“Quit that.”
Ace had turned down Gene’s breakfast just as Jobie had, not wanting to throw it up and have waffles ruined for him.
“An empty stomach is a happy one,” he said.
By the afternoon, Rory’s chatter had slowed down, and he too ended up laying on the couch, a rag on his forehead.
Gene stayed nearby on his arm chair with a small book, the television now off. The fan whirred on high above them, making it rock back and forth while it ran. Jobie had finally quieted down for a nap, his head having fallen to the side and the wet rag now dampening the pillow. Rory stayed propped up across from him, holding the community bowl on his lap. His hair was tied back so Gene wouldn't have to hold it every time he threw up.
“Hey big papa.” He said, having noticed the silence.
Gene’s eyes went to Rory but his head did not raise. He waited for a request.
“Hey.” Rory said again.
“Aye.” Gene replied.
“You want some head?” Rory asked, grinning.
Gene chuckled, turning a page.
“You got rot-mouth.”
“Heh, yea I do. My nips hurt.”
“Oh yea?”
“Yea, everytime I’m sick my nipples hurt real bad- like I’m a pregnant. I wanna put ice cubes on em.”
“You got metal sticking out of em.” Gene said, gesturing to them. “Aye maybe that's it.”
“You should let me smoke.”
Gene shook his head no.
“Aah alright.” Rory grumbled, laying back.
The afternoon passed slowly without Jobie awake to entertain Rory, and no TV on account of Jobie needing sleep. Gene would occasionally pass by to wash out the bowl or get Rory another glass of water, maybe even place a kiss on Rory’s head. Besides that, he was sat back in his chair waiting for a request.
Jobie was awake again by the evening, and far more manageable. He had awoken and shifted to the other side of the couch, cuddling up to Rory who welcomed him with open arms, both sick and hot with fever. Per Rory’s request, Gene turned the TV back on for them while he slowly stood to begin making dinner. Angel hair noodles in chicken broth with crackers to dip in them.
The stove top clicked several times before a flame burst from underneath, beginning to warm the broth. Gene twisted the notches at the sealed end of the plastic bag, splitting it open to place the dry noodles into the pot. He pressed them into the broth with a flat wooden spoon, staying back from the steam that rose up.
The large man swayed subtly as he cooked, his body feeling tired and his skin aching from heat. He could feel sweat clinging to his wife beater and a swirl of unease in his stomach. Yet, Gene stayed standing in front of the stove with his arms crossed, waiting for the meal to finish.
“You doing okay?” Asked Ace, who had snuck into the kitchen. He stood away from Gene, wrapped in a blanket.
“Mhm.” Gene hummed, leaning his hip against the counter.
“I think I have it,” Ace said, moving forward. “I dont think I’m gonna throw up but I’m pretty sure I’m getting a fever. I think I've been sweating more but I
don't know if that's cause it's hot in my room or if I’m hot.”
“Mm.” Gene replied.
“Have they been throwing up? Or just Jobie?”
“Both.”
“Aww, poor boys,” Ace muttered. “I’m sorry I didn't have any breakfast.”
“Dont worry about it.”
“It looked really good, I just didn't want to throw up, im sorry,”
“Alright.” Gene said.
Ace was now beside him, looking into the pot curiously.
“Do you think you’re sick?” He asked.
“I think so.” Gene replied.
“Aww, Gene.” Ace said in a kind coo, reaching up to place the back of his hand against Gene’s forehead, having to push up his hair. “Oh- god Gene you're burning up.”
“I’m alright.”
“No, you have a bad fever sweetheart. Oh my god I’m so sorry Gene, do you need to lay down?”
“Maybe.”
“Gene, go lay down.”
“Aye, I’m alright kid.” Gene replied, stirring the noodles into again so they wouldn't stick together.
“I will make this, Gene.” Ace said, gently holding Gene’s wrist to take the wooden spoon from him. “I will be happy if you lay down. Please.”
Gene blinked slowly, the gears in his head turning as he looked up at Ace.
“Don't cook while you’re sick sweetheart.” He said, placing a hand on Ace’s hip.
“I’m not as sick as you, go. Shoo, let me finish this.”
“You want water?” Gene asked.
“Oh my god- Gene, get out of the kitchen.” Ace replied with a smile, playfully shooing him off with the spoon.
Gene surrendered on his arm chair, reclining it back to rest his eyes while listening to the TV. Jobie and Rory had turned on the batman series, a rerun episode. Despite the noise, the big man with red hair began to drift off, the noise quieting out.
He was awoken as a blanket was placed around his body and tucked in, then a warm bowl of noodles was placed in his lap. Ace leaned in and kissed his cheek, making Gene smile just slightly.
All four boys ate dinner while gathered in the living room together, chatting over the television. Ace sat criss-cross on the floor just beside Gene’s chair. He leaned against it while he listened to a story from Rory, occasionally looking up at Gene to ask if he needed anything. Jobie and Rory were snuggled up together once their bowls were empty, Rory braiding Jobie’s hair while he spoke.
Gene, however, was dead asleep. The moment his bowl was empty, he layed back and knocked out, snoring softly.
“Are you guys staying out here tonight?” Ace asked as he gathered their bowls.
“Yea sure.” Rory replied, stretching out his arms and legs. He purposefully pressed his foot against Jobie’s chest to push him away, receiving a pillow to his face. “Hey- what the hell?”
“I hate you.” Jobie said.
“I’m just stretching man, you’re crazy.”
“What!” Jobie immediately looked at Ace for his defense, pointing at Rory.
“Don't call him that.” Ace said as he headed to the kitchen.
Rory and Jobie bickered playfully, which led to shoving, which led to a tussle. Ace finished cleaning out the bowls and returned to kneel down next to Gene’s chair, taking his hand and rubbing his thumb back and forth on it. Gene’s knuckles were thick, making grooves for Ace to explore.
“Hey…” He muttered, to no response. “Hey Gene?” He spoke up.
“Mm?” Gene hummed, but he did not open his eyes.
“Hey, are you sleeping out here?”
Gene stayed still for a while longer before he took in a deep breath and nodded, shifting a bit and opening his blanket for Ace to crawl in. Ace obeyed, the chair creaking as he shifted into place and curled up on Gene’s lap, laying his head beside Gene’s. Two big arms wrapped around him, giving him a soft squeeze.
“It’ll pass.” Ace reassured him.
Comments
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Jack
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Loser
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