7s_prompts 12.5.3. Embarrassing is kind of an understatement...

[isaprick]

A/N: Dale is hockey_god and used with permission and love. This is writing of doom, i.e. ~ 5600 words long, so be warned. And a bit nauseous, as the focus is seasickness. Set when Dale has finished grad school.

A leisure cruise had seemed like a good idea to Aaron to begin with. Something neither of them had done, something to celebrate, well, one level of education for him, and at least the ending to formal schooling for Dale.

And, more or less, end to commuting to each other. They'd both learned a lot from it... and neither of them wanted to do any more of that for an extended period of time, ever again. Together was just - better.

And then there was the whole second anniversary aspect to things. Neither of them had actually thought they'd get this far, let alone known how damned good they would be. Any time he doubted it, something happened to reassure him that Dale felt it was good, too, though - a phone call out of the blue at just the right moment of wanting-to-hear-your-voice, or the look in his boyfriend's eyes after they'd been so little as a week apart. And there was nothing that could brighten his day the way a quiet sweet word whispered in his ear by that deep, beautiful voice could. And not even only good - but getting better, too. Smoothing things out. Getting to know each other, even with the times on respective campuses, well enough to understand one another at times without words-- yeah. All of that.

Many reasons to celebrate.

So, cruise ship, loads and loads of private time together, nothing specific to do - not even housekeeping or cooking or going out to see friends, or checking e-mails, or planning for the next step? Sounded great.

Only, neither of them had taken into consideration that a cruise ship was a very, very big ship, and they had neither of them been on any vessel larger than a few-person row-boat over a lazy lake on a day that's too hot to handle other than over the water and even the mosquitoes tended to hide away.

It wasn't a problem for Dale.

Aaron, on the other hand, seemed to have no sea legs whatsoever. Or maybe sea legs was imprecise. Sea stomach. See-tolerant part of the body.

Perhaps it would have been somewhat more salvageable if they'd had time to be on board while the ship was at port - not because of getting used to it, but simply on account of the possibility to change plans before harm was done. As it was, they got delayed, then they hit traffic - not rush hour, but some accident that, as far as they learned, had no victims but blocked quite a sizable chunk of the road - so, instead of getting there early and kicking their heels before boarding was allowed, three hours before push-off, they ended up rushing, the cruise-company-provided trolley for their baggage pushed alongside them, up the gangway not that long before it was pulled up. They were both panting, laughing, nudging each other and and getting assigned their cabin, and so on and so forth, when the ship started moving and Aaron's stomach, which had been trying to attract attention since both his feet were on board, suddenly decided that it had a date with... the great outside.

He barely managed to mumble an apology and locate the bathroom in time not to create work for the cleaning staff already.

He was trying to catch his breath after the first round before Dale registered that hadn't been a joke (granted, a part of his queasy mind admitted, they'd been both in sufficiently high spirits to have made such). But then came the alarmed, "Aaron? You okay?"

He waved his arm back, and tried to answer - except that only resulted in more previously delicious-looking food rising up in much worse shape, the taste of bile filling his mouth and nose nastily.

And then there was a warm, wide palm, surprisingly ... well, it wasn't pleasant, his body seemed to have suddenly forgotten how to feel that, but it was... relieving? Something of that sort. A moment, then it went away, but only so that he could feel the dry fingers move along the sides of his neck, gathering his hair back, before the warmth returned against his spine. "Hey, hey. What's going on here?"

One of his own hands unclenched from the edge of the toilet to hold onto him, at least for a little. When he could catch his breath properly, ish, he muttered, "okay.. this might not have been my best idea ever."

"Hmm?"

"It moves." He dared a look sideways at the familiar blue eyes; but there was none of the confusion he had expected. Just concern, God, how was Dale this good to him? How had he deserved that? "'m..." a cough, but this time, at least, nothing came up, "it moves, up and down, and a little bit sideways. 's making me sick." He retched again, then gritted his teeth against the small sound that almost escaped him, there. It wasn't supposed to; and if it was going to be like this the entire time... "Fuck. Well that will be a fun vacation for you..."

"Hey, hey, don't worry about that." The hand on his back rubbed a little, and now he did almost whimper. Not in the least because trying to lean closer just sent him throwing up again. "It's all right, it's all right, babe" The warm, slightly strained, but warm voice washed through him, past the sudden uncertainty of the world and reaching to how things were supposed to be, just for an instant.

Then, of course, the ship began to accelerate. It made him dizzier.

And that was only the beginning.

Naturally, as soon as he didn't seem to have anything more to throw up, Dale wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and went out to search for anyone among the crew who could direct him to the on-board medic for something to alleviate the problem.

Naturally, what they had? Didn't help him.

The fact that there was only so much he could throw up was the marginal relief. He stuck to mostly water and barely drinking any of it, after that. He still felt miserable, dizzy all the time, disoriented, a chilly sweat over his skin and almost shivering just about constantly. Fever, of some sort, Dale pronounced. And tried to keep him warm. Tried to 'feed' him some tea, too, but that... not that Aaron didn't want it, or like the taste of it - his stomach expelled it before he had finished half the cup.

Ugh.

After a couple hours of that, it was time for dinner; Aaron almost laughed - but he didn't hesitate a moment in having Dale go, even if alone. He wasn't fit for the company of food - that didn't mean Dale had to starve or limit himself or anything. He knew his boyfriend would be worried and all through the meal, but he hoped he'd get some food in, and possibly some chance to talk with the other people... Since they were... had been supposed to be. Going to be in the same - if extended - company for weeks, they might as well get to know them and how to relax around them, shouldn't they? And Dale was by far the better at that. And usually the more willing.

Tonight...

Well, he was back quickly.

Aaron had kind of curled down in one of the corners of the small bathroom, wrapped in a blanket but close to the toilet. The blond's face still lit a little when his eyes reached him, that was a shiver of warmth all on its own. He crouched beside him, fingers carding back through the damp curls.

"Any change? Feel any better?"

He wasn't, but then again, he wasn't feeling that much worse. Light-headed and not particularly, ah, energetic, and sticky and hungry, except the thought of food... wasn't a good idea. "Mm..." He shrugged a little, under the thick fabric. "At least now I can actually talk, rather than trying to retch every other word?"

"That's because you've got nothing left to retch." So much worry, it made his insides twist in a whole different way. This one, he kind of almost liked.

It gave him the energy to muster a faint smile. "True. But I still count it an improvement."

And so they did talk. First down on the floor, then gingerly getting to one of the chairs that were bolted on the floor (and the reason for that made him step back into the bathroom for a few coughing moments, when it registered in his mind). Then he managed the energy - and willingness - for a quick shower together, then wrapped up in the blankets and his boyfriend, in the bed that his recognized was comfortable but he couldn't register it, his body cramping up and sending him in shivers at irregular intervals.

After the third or fourth time, when it became clear that they wouldn't just go away as he tried to relax, Dale shook his head, then shifted to lie on his back and carefully tug Aaron on top of him, wrapping the blanket around his back again, carefully and skillfully, but mostly, it was the feel of his body, familiar under him, the strong arms wrapping around him, the motions of the ship still felt, but kind of muted by the much more welcome motions of Dale. His breathing, the small ways he shifted now and again. The brush of warm fingers, so vivid on his clammy cheek or forehead. The rumble of his voice, so close.

He didn't manage to sleep properly, exactly, but he dozed off, a few times, the shudders subsiding down to a normal bad flu or something. Not that he had many of those, either, generally, but it wasn't as alien as this.

When he woke up, shivering once again, from one of those dozes, he realized that his hand had found Dale's, by their side, and his fingers were tangled up with his boyfriend's, sweaty and all, and even asleep, they'd been holding fast.

Even through the feeling like hell, it made him smile, a bit.

The following morning he found out that he'd collected enough bile to have to disentangle himself and stumble into the already-too-familiar tiny loo before they'd woken up fully. Or at all. Dale groaned a bit, not fully conscious, at the rather rushed breaking of the warm little (or not too little) cocoon they'd formed, and the sound made him wince. So did the note of panic in the call of his name, a few moments later. He cleared his mouth as quickly as he could, from the vile-tasting coughing, and called back out a reminder, "'s okay, seasick." For some reason, it didn't come out nearly as loud as he meant it to, but he thought it was probably good enough since he didn't hear Dale thump after him to investigate.

And for a few more very unpleasant minutes, he was kind of busy.

Then he rose, shakily to his feet, rinsed his mouth a lot and his head spun when he lifted it, making his hands grip the edge of the sink to steady himself, and then swear quietly. Goddammit, he hated feeling like this. Sick. Whoozy.

The warm blanket and warmer arms were wrapped around his shoulders before he'd opened his eyes. Steadying, strong arms, tugging him back to bed. With a dizzy shudder, he leaned into that embrace, against the tall, strong body guiding him on. Unconditional trust, and for a moment, that alone brought a bit of relief. And then he registered how he didn't seem to have half his own strength, and gritted his teeth, trying to straighten up and carry his own weight.

That resulted in colored lights spinning behind his eyes way too fast, and oh so good that the cabin was small enough that they'd reached the bed already; he actually dropped into it.

It wasn't very frequent that he heard Dale swear - next to never outside of games and watching games, really, his cheerful disposition letting him ignore the smaller problems and his practicality urging him to try and solve the big ones rather than waste effort on futile words, but now the blond was sufficiently freaked out to mutter a quiet, "shit." Deep breath, and then he added, "okay, that would be dehydration, wouldn't it. Or, or. Low blood sugar."

"... I can work on more water, but keep back the sugar, or any other food?" He managed to keep the snappishness out of his voice, but it was a close thing. Which probably supported, from what he knew, the low blood sugar theory; for some reason, Dale's pursed lips worried him more.

But he did get him more water, and Aaron drank as much of it as he could as the taller man slipped back in bed with him; he left the cup on the floor (was it deck, in the cabin? And the question alone was enough to make him dizzier again) and turned to curl into him.

The soft voice, low and deep, was a caress on its own. "It'll be okay. I'm.. we can get off at the next port and finish the vacation otherwise. Not that much longer. Only a couple of days." Or... three? Four? They'd been ambitious, after all. Picked a cruise that didn't stop at ports every day, as they might have. Planned on spending days on end without even having to choose whether to find out about a new city or stay in; awesome.

"'m sorry." How could his mouth be so dry already when he'd just drank as much water as he could, uh, stomach? "For crapping this one up..."

"Don't be. It's okay, it'll be okay."

Deep breath. "You don't have to stay in for me, you know? You should... go to breakfast." He had to pause and swallow, here. "Go up and take some air and enjoy... you know. The way we'd planned. Getting to see what it's like over the open sea."

"But..."

"You should. Don't want to... you know. Entirely ruin it."

"Okay, okay." Warm lips over his temple, and he stayed snuggled a moment longer before starting to pull back. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Letting you out so you can go up?"

Of all possible responses, laughter was almost the least expected. Surprised, generous laughter. The kind that gave him a warm easy filling in the pit of his stomach, and right now that was even more welcome. "Aaron... it's five in the morning. While if we were going up together, that would be a totally valid hour to go watch the stars, provided it's a clear night, with you? I don't think they've opened for breakfast."

"Oh."

Fingers combing back through his hair, again. And while he knew they were warm, they felt kind of cool where they touched skin. Oh, great, I am running a fever, then? Actual fever? Good God, what if it's something contagious and not seasickness at all? He tried to hold his breath so as not to contaminate the air for Dale; after about half a minute, realized just how futile that was and gave it up. "It's okay." The words brought him back from the random, disjointed thoughts. "I'll go up later. Let's try for some more sleep, hmm?"

"Okay." He could feel more than see Dale's smile, definitely feel the way he settled around him. A few heartbeats in the strange, night-time ship silence, and he murmured again. "Dale?"

"Mmm?"

"... I..." The words had seemed important only a moment ago in his mind; and they were no longer all that difficult or complicated, but he faltered, anyway. Then did go on. "Love you."

"Love you, too." That tone of voice. Of everything-is-okay. He hadn't realized how much he wanted it, just for a moment, until he heard it.

Some more sleep - drowsing off for him, but close enough - at least didn't make things worse. Or he just didn't have anything left to reject, any more. The water seemed to be staying down. He guzzled on some more of it.

As Dale did go up, he spent the times alone mostly curled in, trying to find out what might make it better. Eyes open or eyes closed. (Made no difference.) He tried to read, but that was a bad idea. Apparently, plugging the earbud headphones in his head and listening to some music kept things... at least not getting worse, so he spent some time that way.

In the afternoon, when they figured he'd gone for six hours and more without throwing up, they tried tea again. This time, it stayed down, and Dale beamed at him; while the taste still turned his stomach, Aaron was good with that. A bit of tea meant possibly some sugar or honey, which was... better than nothing.

The biscuit attempted later wasn't so nice to collaborate, however. It felt like chalk in his mouth when he chewed it; much worse as it came back up.

The fever didn't come down much and his skin remained clammy and unpleasant, and moving around was more and more of a problem.

Fucking seasickness.

When Dale came in for the evening and cuddled him close, he smelled like clean ocean wind, his hair tousled by the breeze. It wasn't as long as it had been when they first hooked up anymore, but still enough to run fingers through to feel the smoothness; enough to retain the salty smell.

The blond felt the deep breath, saw the small brightening on his face, and ducked his head so he could have more of it. "If the weather's good and you're... steady enough. Wanna try coming up to the deck tomorrow?"

Aaron blinked, then shrugged. "Couldn't do too much harm? I guess I wouldn't be the first to throw up down over the railing if it comes to that..." He swallowed, and without having to ask him, Dale shifted them to the position of last night, the shorter man stretched out on top of the taller. After a moment of settling like that, Aaron nodded. "I think I might like that."

"Good." And, to his surprise, Dale's lips brushed over his, lightly, but definitely. "Let's try for some more sleep now, hmm?"

"Yeah."

He was apparently exhausted enough to spend more time out of consciousness than in, that night, at least.

The next morning was similar to the previous one, only without more throwing up thanks to the tea, no more energy thanks to ... everything, and, at least, no disorientation about the time. Thankfully.

No, the embarrassment wasn't vanquished by the feeling overall like shit. It was adding to it all, had been since the first heaving. Any of it tthat he managed to save himself...

Oh, right. Like this hasn't reached way beyond embarrassing already.

A thought that flew right out of his mind, because Dale had caught on that something was going on in his head and was murmuring reassurances in his ear and he couldn't focus on both and hell if he wasn't going to pick his boyfriend's words over his own. Burying his nose into the familiar, early-morning-sleepy-Dale scent was also better than just trying to ignore the unwelcome smell of his own insides.

Before Dale went up for breakfast, there was more tea. Sweetened almost beyond what he could take, but he kept it down. It was almost more an effort of will than anything else. But at least breakfast and such would give time for him to know if he wouldn't be well enough for an expedition outside (it felt like a very long time since he'd seen the sky over his head, even if he knew it was really less than forty-eight hours)... and if he would be, for however little the sweet would help to actually take effect, or something like that.

Aaron was showered and dressed - and groomed - when Dale found him again. Sitting on the bed, sure, leaning back against the pillows, but ready enough to come out, presentable. However long it had taken him to get there.

The blond's eyebrows rose up - appreciatively, even if the blue eyes were clouded with concern (was he pale? something else? He hadn't cut himself particularly badly while shaving, at least, even if his hands were shaking) - and he smiled. "Well hello, handsome! I must say, the weather is fantastic, you'll love it."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely."

For all their usual non-display of affection publicly, by the time they made their way to the deck, Dale's arm was around his back. True, it wasn't too lover-ly. Supportive, definitely, and while he wished he didn't need it, he was actually holding back.

"You sure... you want to do this?"

"Why?" He swallowed, but for now nothing... managed to come up.

"Um. I always thought that part about looking green was... an exaggeration."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I did."

"I mean, m-me."

"Oh. Yeah." Barely a whisper, there.

"Right."

It was true, though. The weather was gorgeous, and it was so... in a way that he'd never seen. Or felt. The wind he had smelled last night? God, it cut through his clothes as if they were nothing, but at the same time... it was clear and ... something. Didn't take away the taint of nausea - seeing the waves wasn't exactly helping - but didn't make it worse, either.

Dale headed them towards the railing. Which made him press closer to the taller man - both because the wind was stronger on the more open planks and because the motion of the water accentuated the motion of the ship, but when the blond threw him a questioning look, his face was set and he was moving determinedly. He didn't bend over the edge to throw up as soon as they reached their goal, yay.

He did turn around, though, letting Dale look out over the ocean, if he wanted - he just leaned a bit against him and looked, in turn, over the deck and the ship... features, visible. And the people. There were other people on the deck.

He hadn't realized there would be. Although he should have. Another result of the fever, he thought. Or wishful thinking. Look at yourself, boy. For shame. Aaron gritted his teeth and didn't flinch away from his boyfriend. They weren't hugging like lovers in some PDA; he was damn grateful for both support and warmth, so p-- so.

Closest to them was a couple that did obviously display their... couple-ness. But they seemed very much engaged with each other and not noticing anybody else on deck. Some distant thing over the water, maybe. Possibly. Or they were gesturing but discussing their dreams, or something of the kind.

Further, but moving closer, were an elderly couple. Or rather, an elderly - but fit - man pushing a wheelchair with a much older woman, wrinkled and wizened and shaking a little, but with green eyes open and alert to the world around her. When they were going past them, she patted the wrist of the man and he stopped the wheelchair, setting the brakes with a practiced motion.

"Well," the old lady said, in the characteristic way old people enunciated, "don't you look just like my daughter," Aaron could feel his upper lip peel back from his teeth even as Dale's arm tightened around him, infinitely familiar by now with his reaction to being likened to a woman (there had even been that one time when he'd asked about the long hair, even while making abundantly clear, as always, that he liked his hair - wouldn't shorter hair discourage such simile?), but the woman went on talking as though she hadn't noticed his reaction - and, maybe, she hadn't. "Just like my daughter, yes, the first time she set foot on one of these big boats. And the second, and the third. Same color of green, yes. Did you go to the med bay? What did they give you?" She rattled off three or four names of medications, or they sounded like.

By now Aaron had actually relaxed from the initial reaction; there was something absurdly pleasing in the cadences of her voice, calming. He had to look sideways at Dale for the actual answer to her question, and there was an almost-smile on his face, the warm and nice one... He answered that it had been the second one.

The old lady patted the man's hand again. "Henry, do be a dear and go fetch me the green drugs bag, it should be on my bed, or on top of the tiny cupboard-y thingie by the wall, or in the bathroom, you'll find it, won't you?"

"I'll find it." 'Henry' actually smiled at the two youths, then started towards the closest stairs down with a specific rolling gait which looked to work very well on the rolling deck - except it made Aaron think of that again, and he pressed his palm too his mouth, trying to control the gaggin.

"Oh, don't worry, young man. You'll try what I give you and you'll be good as new. Only thing that ever worked on my daughter, but it made our lives much easier, it did."

"Th-thank you, ma-am..."

"Margaret, dear. Auntie Margaret.

"Mi--Margaret. But I couldn't possibly acce--"

"Oh, tush. Nonsense. It will just make you feel better, young man. And since I do not have that problem, I won't need it. Mm-hmm, it was a very nice trip to Hamburg, that time when she was recommended these pills..."

Margaret chattered amicably - with brief interjections from Aaron and a few a little more interesting ones from Dale, until Henry came back up, a medium-sized green pouch settled firmly under his elbow.

"Ah, there we go. Thank you, Henry..." She rummaged briefly in the packed bag, and then fished out a blister with a few purple pills on it. "There you are, dear. Now, these are good for twelve hours each," the package had six pill bumps, one empty. "But don't you go taking them more than once per six hours. It will be enough, it will." She patted the man's arm again. "Let's go-"

"Excuse me, Margaret. How do we find you to restore it?"

"Oh, don't you worry about that, young man. Just concentrate on getting better, hmm?"

They were both staring after her as the wheelchair creaked against the louder such sounds of the ship itself.

In a bit, Dale's voice shook him from being mesmerized by it. "So... are you going to try it?"

"... sure. I hope it won't cause harm instead..."

"Let's go back to the cabin... for water."

"Yeah, sure."

The warmth and support were still too damn welcome, on the way back.

Aaron eyed the little pill with sudden uncertainty. What if she was some sort of an old murderess and this was, whatever, actually arsenic or something like that?

Then the little thing rolled in his palm with the next sway of the ship, making him feel lightheaded all over again. And what if I'm all fevered and all of that and imagining things, huh? He waited a moment with eyes closed, fist around the pill, for the wave of nausea to pass, then quickly swallowed it, drinking the water in small, slow gulps, the way that wouldn't, hopefully, make him throw it up.

How had something tiny like that become hope?

Dale's eyes held the same, as well as a question, as soon as he stepped out of the bathroom; he shrugged in response. It certainly didn't seem instantaneous, so he sat on the bed beside his boyfriend - gingerly. If he couldavoid dropping down, he would.

"Well, that was... lucky."

"Hopefully." Aaron ducked his head, then mustered half a smile, sideways. "At least first foray in local socializing didn't end in somebody flying overboard?" ... bad idea for a joke, but it did get a flash of a grin on Dale's face, before the frown at his own grimace. "Damn. I'm not even afraid of the water or drowning or anything. I don't fucking get it!"

"Hey, hey." Steady arm around his back, tugging him in. "Not your fault, okay?"

"Yeah, well, whose? You can't even get a normal time, having to sick-sit me and--" He swallowed. He'd been a burden from the very beginning, hadn't he. Dale'd had to deal with his crap all from the very start. Two years of what the hell not.

"Not your fault. It happens, we didn't know, you couldn't know or we'd have planned something else, fun for both, okay? I don't mind that much--" Aaron snorted quietly, in response to which Dale just tugged him closer, tucking his head under his chin; after a breath in, he closed his eyes and reached to hug back, a bit. "I don't, okay? It's all right." Fingers combing through the curls, a familiar soft repetition that could relax him any day and was helping now. "It's all right."

"I'm a pain in the everything, Dale. Don't know why--"

"Shh. You're more than that, and I'd not be anywhere else." Lips against his temple, the familiar scent of Dale all around him, as well as the familiar lovely voice, the familiar words. The familiar arms. Aaron swallowed, then, after a moment longer, nodded a little. "There. That's better." Whisper, or barely more than. "Love you."

Aaron almost whimpered at that, turning more and hugging closer. "Love you, too. You know I do. I just... want things to be better for you, you know?"

"I know. It's one of the things that lets people know you love them, too, you know?"

"Yeah." That was almost a smile, there.

"Besides, being a very apt pupil, you know just how to be the kind of pain in my ass that I like..."

Aaron choked up what was the first laugh in days, looking up with a surprise. Also a surprise at the fact that he was responding to that... umh. "Have a very good teacher."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely."

"You know, I always liked your smile, but when it chases away the green tinge, I can't help but approve even more."

"Hmm?" ... beat, then he looked around. Around wasn't quavering around the edges, all of a sudden. "... huh."

The short of that was that the medication that Margaret had given him did work. Aaron was nibbling biscuit by lunch - which Dale stayed in to witness, getting some chewy stuff for himself and skipping the meal, and then the two of them actually braved dinner together.

It worked. He could even join in the conversation and laughter of the people Dale had already established 'contact' with. And every time he spoke and laughed and acted normally, the blue eyes of his boyfriend glowed a little brighter.

He did seek out Margaret and Henry, to let them know he was better, thanks to them, and to thank them. And ask - where they were from, where they were cruising to, all that kind of things. Polite, now that bile and fever weren't clouding his mind, that was easy; courteous, because the gratitude was genuine.

They stayed and talked with people a bit late after dinner, too. It felt... damn nice.

As they were finally exiting the common 'entertainment' area, Dale looked sideways at him.

"What?"

"Tired?"

Aaron frowned. "Not too much, actually. Why?"

"Well... I thought. We can go up on deck. The stars and all."

"... why not?"

That got him a wide smile in response; as soon as the relative darkness outside enveloped them, Dale's arm was around his back, certain and warm; a few steps down, and he leaned into the taller man, half-embracing back. They walked along the railing like that, just the two of them, or it felt like that. The endless sky over the rippling ocean, infinite and serene, was a sight to see; and now, the wind was damn awesome, rather than chilling him through mostly.

"You are better."

"Oh yeah." He smiled, a tad sheepishly. "And glad about it, too."

"Are... we still getting off, next port?"

That made Aaron blink, and think about it. "That... depends."

"On?"

"Whether we can buy more of these little helpful pills there." He turned towards him and looked up, steadily in his eyes. "If yes, then... you know. If you want to, too... we can... stick to the original plan?"

"I... think I do, yeah." He grinned. "Not that either of us gives up on things easily or anything."

"No." He reached up his hand to cup Dale's cheek. It was one of the many reasons they'd worked, he thought. Both of them were stubborn - in ways that worked very well together.

And then, because he could, his hand trailed down - until it was slipped under Dale's jacket - and he did tickle him, briefly. Before slipping from under his arm and running a few steps out of reach.

Dale's eyes widened. And after a brief moment, he did give chase.

They were both laughing by the time he caught him, both arms circling around him and body pressed close and lips pressed closer. Then he ... barely moved his face away, looking at him.

"Hmm?"

"You are better." And there was so much tenderness and joy in his voice alone that Aaron was melting in against him before he'd made the decision to.

"Yes," he breathed out, and reached up for another kiss.

They were rather late for breakfast, the next morning. But both of them were glowing.