[PRINCETON] Workaholic woes (RP LOG)
Who: Pat & Aiden
Where: Pat & Aiden's place
When: Monday Night
Follows: THIS and THIS
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Pat took a small sip from his glass of white wine as he slowly stirred a pot on the stove. It was early evening and he had been home from work for a couple of hours now. Cameron had been there when he got home, but went out with Lachlan for a pint a little while later. Pat declined an invite to join them on account of the fact it had been a long day and he was tired, but he also needed to talk to Aiden, who was asleep on the sofa when he arrived home. If Aiden was asleep at three in the afternoon, he needed it and Pat had no intentions of disturbing him.
He had a hushed conversation with his twin in the kitchen, Pat sensing something was wrong, but Cameron promised it wasn't anything to worry about and he would talk more about it later. He hadn't been able to help adding, too, that he thought Pat and Aiden needed some space that night anyway, making Pat realise that his brother had probably conspired with Lachlan for the beer date and suspected it was probably just going to be at Lachlan's place with baby RJ present. Either way, Pat was still pissed off at his husband, as much as he didn't want to be.
Aiden came into the kitchen, trying to stifle yet another yawn, rubbing his hand over his face. He hesitated momentarily when he found Pat at the stove and bit down guiltily on his lip. "I didn't mean to be a huge arse," he spoke up, clearing his throat. His voice sounded rough, like he had just given a really good blow job. The bloody sore throat was still plaguing him. "I thought I was okay. It didn't cross my mind that you got me to promise to stay for a reason."
Pat frowned as he turned around and leant against the counter. He analysed Aiden for another moment or two as he took another sip of his wine. "What would you have done if I wasn't feeling well, promised you I would stay home, but up and went to work anyway the minute you walked out the door?"
"It wasn't the minute you walked out the door," Aiden corrected hastily and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'd be pissed off and really worried," he had to concede. "But it's not the same."
Pat sighed and put the wine glass down. "Because I have MS? You're right, Aiden. It's not the same, and you know why? Because when you're normally in pristine health and then you aren't? I have much cause to worry. Maybe even more so than you do because my illness is predictable and repetative. You should be well and you're not. That's why I needed you to stay home. We have a worldwide epidemic of a strange flu that is killing people. Doctors are advising people with symptoms to stay home until they are well, just like I told you at the beginning of the week. You know those bloods I took from you two days ago?" He picked up an envelope from the kitchen counter and held it up.
Aiden paled dramatically and stared at the envelope. "Are you saying I have this Swine Flu thing?"
"You went to work, in New York City, and probably came in contact with numerous people. Maybe even coughed on them in the elevator. Some of them might even be like me and susceptible to minor illness that could make them really sick. They don't need reckless workaholics coughing germs all in their face when they should be home resting," Pat continued, shaking his head. He was quiet for a few moments, letting Aiden stew, before he slipped the blood results from the envelope. "You don't have Swine Flu, but you do have Mono, which is probably just as debilitating. If not more. And contagious. I don't think your clients would appreciate you infecting them. I needed you to stay home because I suspected days ago you might have it. You had all the classic symptoms."
Aiden was gaping at him and reached over to take the sheet of paper from Pat's hand. He looked down at it, even if all the numbers didn't mean a thing to him. "How long am I going to have to be off work with this?!" he cried.
Pat threw his hands up with a growl of frustration. "Fucking hell! I give up! You're a lost cause!" he argued, picking up his wine. "There's chicken soup there if you're hungry! Eat small amounts and drink lots of fluids!" He swept past Aiden and out of the kitchen.
The guilt blanketed Aiden like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. "Pat." He hurried after his husband, finding him dropping crankily down into the recliner and snatching up the remote control. "I'm not used to this. I don't know how to not work," he told him helplessly.
"Well, maybe this is devine intervention," Pat returned sarcastically, leaning around Aiden to turn the TV on and then slumped back to kid the recliner out. "Sucks, doesn't it?"
Aiden nodded as he rubbed at his head. He looked up at Pat guiltily. "Yeah, it does," he mumbled and went over to sit down in the seat beside Pat. After a moment, he reached and took his husband's hand, just needing some contact of some sort after their spat - which was his fault. "I'm sorry. I was self-centred, selfish dick knob. I didn't once stop and think that you would know exactly how it would feel to be sick when you don't want to be."
Pat drew in a heavy breath and let it out with a rush before he finally met Aiden's gaze. "That wasn't what this was about. I was worried you were seriously ill, and I knew you wouldn't believe that you had anything until I could put the proof in your hand. In saying that, Mono might not be serious, but it can be. It can enlarge your spleen and there is risk of rupture if you do too much in the acute phase, which lasts about two to three weeks, but you could feel the malaise and sickness for up to three months. You're going to need a month to six weeks off work to know you're fully recovered and not risking other weird things going on." He paused and wet his lips, using the time to take another sip of his wine. "Cam and I had Mono when we were teenagers. There's some evidence to say that the infection that causes Mono is a risk factor in the development of MS. I just got really pissed off at you because I needed you here to know you were okay."
Aiden felt sick, but he knew it wasn't the actual bug thing he had. It was guilt, probably worse than he had felt in a long time. "I'm sorry. I really am. You know how stupid I can be when it comes to my work. But I... I'll whatever time off you think I need, even if being at home every day is going to drive me crazy." His shoulders slumped a little. "Fuck, I... does this mean you're going to get sick? You don't need to get sick again."
Pat squeezed Aiden's hand with a small smirk. "You can work from home," he admitted, albeit relucantly. "But you've got to take it easy. If you don't feel well, you need to go to bed and rest. And no. I've had it. You build an immunity to it once you have it. You should steer clear of anyone who hasn't, though, for the first couple of weeks at least. Especially pregnant women," he had to add pointedly. "If Harri hasn't had this, you need to just do the BFF thing from afar. She and the baby would be okay if she caught it, but there are some risks and she would be much better not to have it, which means no risk at all to her or the baby."
Aiden looked at him for a few moments and then moaned softly, leaning forward to rest his tired head on his hand. "Fuck, this sucks. So, I'm going to feel sick for three months?"
"No, not three months. You'll just have the sore throat, tiredness, body aches, maybe some nausea, in the first couple of weeks. It'll settle down after that, and you'll just have periods of exhaustion and malaise. The more you rest and do what you're supposed to, the quicker you will recover. Are you even going to listen to me when I say that this time? I would be better wasting my energy washing the windows with my cock," Pat said wryly.
Aiden lifted his head and pointed with a small smile. "I wouldn't be opposed to seeing that," he admitted sheepishly. "Are you sure you aren't just making this up so I slow down and not go to work?"
Pat shot his husband a long-suffering look. "If I was going to do that, it would have been months ago. You're a big boy. You should know what's right and wrong, especially when your screechy wife keeps rubbing your face in it repeatedly in a vain effort to get you to listen to him."
"Do I still get to keep the wedding vows if I start listening now?" Aiden asked, scratching at his head sheepishly. "And you're not a screeching wife. You're more a bitchy, to the point, passive aggressive significant other."
Pat just smirked, resting his head back against the sofa tiredly. "I meant what was coming if you didn't pull your head in, darling husband."
Aiden pressed his lips together and nodded. "Duly noted. This is me pulling my head in."
"Just do it gently. You're supposed to be resting," Pat threw back, but he smiled and gave Aiden's hand another small squeeze.
Where: Pat & Aiden's place
When: Monday Night
Follows: THIS and THIS
______________________________________
Pat took a small sip from his glass of white wine as he slowly stirred a pot on the stove. It was early evening and he had been home from work for a couple of hours now. Cameron had been there when he got home, but went out with Lachlan for a pint a little while later. Pat declined an invite to join them on account of the fact it had been a long day and he was tired, but he also needed to talk to Aiden, who was asleep on the sofa when he arrived home. If Aiden was asleep at three in the afternoon, he needed it and Pat had no intentions of disturbing him.
He had a hushed conversation with his twin in the kitchen, Pat sensing something was wrong, but Cameron promised it wasn't anything to worry about and he would talk more about it later. He hadn't been able to help adding, too, that he thought Pat and Aiden needed some space that night anyway, making Pat realise that his brother had probably conspired with Lachlan for the beer date and suspected it was probably just going to be at Lachlan's place with baby RJ present. Either way, Pat was still pissed off at his husband, as much as he didn't want to be.
Aiden came into the kitchen, trying to stifle yet another yawn, rubbing his hand over his face. He hesitated momentarily when he found Pat at the stove and bit down guiltily on his lip. "I didn't mean to be a huge arse," he spoke up, clearing his throat. His voice sounded rough, like he had just given a really good blow job. The bloody sore throat was still plaguing him. "I thought I was okay. It didn't cross my mind that you got me to promise to stay for a reason."
Pat frowned as he turned around and leant against the counter. He analysed Aiden for another moment or two as he took another sip of his wine. "What would you have done if I wasn't feeling well, promised you I would stay home, but up and went to work anyway the minute you walked out the door?"
"It wasn't the minute you walked out the door," Aiden corrected hastily and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'd be pissed off and really worried," he had to concede. "But it's not the same."
Pat sighed and put the wine glass down. "Because I have MS? You're right, Aiden. It's not the same, and you know why? Because when you're normally in pristine health and then you aren't? I have much cause to worry. Maybe even more so than you do because my illness is predictable and repetative. You should be well and you're not. That's why I needed you to stay home. We have a worldwide epidemic of a strange flu that is killing people. Doctors are advising people with symptoms to stay home until they are well, just like I told you at the beginning of the week. You know those bloods I took from you two days ago?" He picked up an envelope from the kitchen counter and held it up.
Aiden paled dramatically and stared at the envelope. "Are you saying I have this Swine Flu thing?"
"You went to work, in New York City, and probably came in contact with numerous people. Maybe even coughed on them in the elevator. Some of them might even be like me and susceptible to minor illness that could make them really sick. They don't need reckless workaholics coughing germs all in their face when they should be home resting," Pat continued, shaking his head. He was quiet for a few moments, letting Aiden stew, before he slipped the blood results from the envelope. "You don't have Swine Flu, but you do have Mono, which is probably just as debilitating. If not more. And contagious. I don't think your clients would appreciate you infecting them. I needed you to stay home because I suspected days ago you might have it. You had all the classic symptoms."
Aiden was gaping at him and reached over to take the sheet of paper from Pat's hand. He looked down at it, even if all the numbers didn't mean a thing to him. "How long am I going to have to be off work with this?!" he cried.
Pat threw his hands up with a growl of frustration. "Fucking hell! I give up! You're a lost cause!" he argued, picking up his wine. "There's chicken soup there if you're hungry! Eat small amounts and drink lots of fluids!" He swept past Aiden and out of the kitchen.
The guilt blanketed Aiden like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. "Pat." He hurried after his husband, finding him dropping crankily down into the recliner and snatching up the remote control. "I'm not used to this. I don't know how to not work," he told him helplessly.
"Well, maybe this is devine intervention," Pat returned sarcastically, leaning around Aiden to turn the TV on and then slumped back to kid the recliner out. "Sucks, doesn't it?"
Aiden nodded as he rubbed at his head. He looked up at Pat guiltily. "Yeah, it does," he mumbled and went over to sit down in the seat beside Pat. After a moment, he reached and took his husband's hand, just needing some contact of some sort after their spat - which was his fault. "I'm sorry. I was self-centred, selfish dick knob. I didn't once stop and think that you would know exactly how it would feel to be sick when you don't want to be."
Pat drew in a heavy breath and let it out with a rush before he finally met Aiden's gaze. "That wasn't what this was about. I was worried you were seriously ill, and I knew you wouldn't believe that you had anything until I could put the proof in your hand. In saying that, Mono might not be serious, but it can be. It can enlarge your spleen and there is risk of rupture if you do too much in the acute phase, which lasts about two to three weeks, but you could feel the malaise and sickness for up to three months. You're going to need a month to six weeks off work to know you're fully recovered and not risking other weird things going on." He paused and wet his lips, using the time to take another sip of his wine. "Cam and I had Mono when we were teenagers. There's some evidence to say that the infection that causes Mono is a risk factor in the development of MS. I just got really pissed off at you because I needed you here to know you were okay."
Aiden felt sick, but he knew it wasn't the actual bug thing he had. It was guilt, probably worse than he had felt in a long time. "I'm sorry. I really am. You know how stupid I can be when it comes to my work. But I... I'll whatever time off you think I need, even if being at home every day is going to drive me crazy." His shoulders slumped a little. "Fuck, I... does this mean you're going to get sick? You don't need to get sick again."
Pat squeezed Aiden's hand with a small smirk. "You can work from home," he admitted, albeit relucantly. "But you've got to take it easy. If you don't feel well, you need to go to bed and rest. And no. I've had it. You build an immunity to it once you have it. You should steer clear of anyone who hasn't, though, for the first couple of weeks at least. Especially pregnant women," he had to add pointedly. "If Harri hasn't had this, you need to just do the BFF thing from afar. She and the baby would be okay if she caught it, but there are some risks and she would be much better not to have it, which means no risk at all to her or the baby."
Aiden looked at him for a few moments and then moaned softly, leaning forward to rest his tired head on his hand. "Fuck, this sucks. So, I'm going to feel sick for three months?"
"No, not three months. You'll just have the sore throat, tiredness, body aches, maybe some nausea, in the first couple of weeks. It'll settle down after that, and you'll just have periods of exhaustion and malaise. The more you rest and do what you're supposed to, the quicker you will recover. Are you even going to listen to me when I say that this time? I would be better wasting my energy washing the windows with my cock," Pat said wryly.
Aiden lifted his head and pointed with a small smile. "I wouldn't be opposed to seeing that," he admitted sheepishly. "Are you sure you aren't just making this up so I slow down and not go to work?"
Pat shot his husband a long-suffering look. "If I was going to do that, it would have been months ago. You're a big boy. You should know what's right and wrong, especially when your screechy wife keeps rubbing your face in it repeatedly in a vain effort to get you to listen to him."
"Do I still get to keep the wedding vows if I start listening now?" Aiden asked, scratching at his head sheepishly. "And you're not a screeching wife. You're more a bitchy, to the point, passive aggressive significant other."
Pat just smirked, resting his head back against the sofa tiredly. "I meant what was coming if you didn't pull your head in, darling husband."
Aiden pressed his lips together and nodded. "Duly noted. This is me pulling my head in."
"Just do it gently. You're supposed to be resting," Pat threw back, but he smiled and gave Aiden's hand another small squeeze.