RP Log with scotcopper | shared germs and revelations...
[Follows THIS]
It was the next day that Stuart woke up feeling worse than he had the day before. It was fortunate he had already had mind to call in in sick in advance. It was tolerable the evening before when he had bitten the proverbial bullet and taken the nursing duties into his own hands with Tom. He expected protests, maybe even Tom pulling away when he realised that it wasn't just farting in bed that was taking them to another level. In fact, submitting to a lover that you were weak and needed comfort wasn't even in the same realm as farting in front of each other. Stuart just couldn't shake the nerves that Tom's tolerance to the intimacy would hit a brick wall and he would boot Stuart out, never to see each other again. The night before, his brain had still functioned enough to let him think himself in a swirl of thoughts along these lines. In fact, he didn't sleep very well at all, and it was ironic considering Tom kept up his end of the bargain and stayed snuggled up to Stuart most of the night while they slept, and the covers were evenly shared. There was even once when Stuart thought he woke up briefly to Tom tucking the covers securely but carefully around him, but Stuart just figured he must have been dreaming because he hadn't woken up completely.
When Stuart woke up, he felt like someone was painful pushing his head down against the pillow it felt so heavy. With Tom still curled up next to him, breathing heavily through his mouth and still looking like death, Stuart had groggily peeled himself out of bed to find the sheets damp from sweat under him. He didn't even want to think about, so he just felt his way wearily over to the en suite. He was washing his hands after a pee when the nausea struck again, causing him to retch into the sink. Nothing much came up and it took more effort and energy than he cared to relinquish. He was woozy when he was done, so he just washed the mess away and rinsed the gross taste of his mouth and miserably retreated back to the safehaven of Tom's bed. He tried not to make a sound as he stiffly slid back into the damp spot he had left. He over tired now. Sleep was completely off the menu. A tiny pained noise escaped before he could stop it while he tried to find a comfortable spot for his head on the pillow and then tucked his hand in under Tom's fingers to steal some comfort, and just lay there in a shivering ball to wait for the nausea to pass again.
Tom had felt Stuart leave the bed, but his brain had been slow to wake up. He was still under the impression that if he lay there with his eyes closed that everything would magically heal. He'd wake up cured, and rested. If only because there was a art of him that wanted to be one hundred percent better to take care of Stuart. It wasn't fair that Stuart had been feeling shit and still had to take care of Tom.
Tom had his illness, and the ignorance of how to take care of someone else dragging him down. He was only reluctant in trying to broach the matter because he didn't feel as if it was fair that Stuart might have to pick up his slack. He had no idea that Stuart might take it as Tom not wanting to pursue a deeper connection. Tom's mind wasn't on anything besides getting better so he could care for Stuart. An oddly Alpha male thing to want, and the symptom of someone too used to being in power, and being in control.
By the time Stuart had slipped back into bed, Tom was awake. He squeezed his hand softly, and shifted in the bed to bring Stuart's hand to his mouth so he could kiss the back of it. He could feel Stuart shaking, and wet his lips as he tried to speak without his voice croaking. "What's wrong, love?"
Stuart gave a small laugh, which sort of got caught in the back of his nose and throat and made him sneeze wetly. He scrunched his nose up and reached for some tissues to wipe his nose. He hadn't realised Tom had been awake and the squeeze of his hand felt nice. "Just feel crap. You know how it goes," he answered, trying to clear the thick feeling in his throat. The shiver felt like it swept over his whole body and he reflexively curled further in against Tom to draw some of his warmth. He gave Tom's stomach a small rub. "Are you okay? Do you need anything? Do you want tea?" he asked as he fought of another heavy shiver.
Tom wrapped his arms around Stuart tightly, and even pulled the covers up around them both to try and help the detective get warm. If the lights were on, and he was sure Stuart would catch his look, he would have been glaring at him. "Don't worry about tea, not when you're shaking all over. I... Let me be the one to take care of you now. Okay? We'll just get you warm before anything else. And I just feel like crap. You know how it goes," he echoed with a small smile.
"It's okay. I'm okay." The lies spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them in a hasty bid to stop Tom thinking he had to do something he couldn't or didn't want to do. Stuart wasn't really okay, he felt sick and he'd been vomiting regularly since the bug hit. It was the damn medication. With everything else feelign crap, his weakened stomach was going out in sympathy. "You should eat something. We can do that, and watch crappy TV. You actually have Sky TV hooked up in your bedroom, I'm so fecking jealous," he joked.
Tom's eyebrows went up, and his eyes really did fix on Stuart's face this time. "You're a shit liar when you're sick," he mumbled. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be hurt, or offended at Stuart trying to lie to him about being okay. "What can I do for you? Just tell me. Or I won't turn on the telly. While you're sick, and you're here, it's in your bedroom too, you know. Only I'll unhook it if you bullshit me again."
Stuart had the decency to look scandalised that Tom would pinch the pay TV access when it was right there and they could just lie watching it for hours on end. It also caused him to curse silently at himself for his crap lying skills. If Gee was a fly on the wall, she'd probably be facepalming right now. It was so tempting to just bury his head under the pillow and play dead. "I just... we just-" He cut himself off in a sharp sneeze that he caught in the bunch of tissues in his hand. Probably a good thing on account of the fact he was making it up as he went along, trying to flounder around the edges. "I wasnae sure you'd know... want to know... the taking care of thing, or if it would mean... other things," he mumbled and snapped his mouth shut, wiping pitifully at his nose while he let Tom process the rather elusive comment.
"Bless you," Tom murmured. Then he fell silent, the elusive comment too much for his brain to comprehend, but he was determined to work it out. He lay there attempting to fill in the blanks mentally, but all he could do was feel the snot slowly oozing into every inch of his brain, determined to make him dumb. "I have no idea what the fuck you just said."
Stuart could feel the mucus in the back of his throat and it was making him cough, causing his nose to drip more. The tissues were becoming more and more soggy as he went on, and when Tom replied, he just sort of managed to shrink down into the pillows further. First, he decided in his effed up snot-filled head that he imagined Tom tucking him in during the middle of the night. Second, he was scared to even ask if Tom minded the whole Vicks thingo. It hadn't been mentioned again, even if he knew they had both mostly just slept a lot after it. This was the first they had spoken much, and even then Stuart was coming out sounding like a Teletubby on crack. "I didnae know if all this..." he waved his hand at the unkempt room they had both been occupying whilst sick to the point it had become messy and neither seemed to care, "... if would be too much too soon. If it is, I can go. It's okay. I willnae be offended or upset."
"I am," Tom snapped before he could stop himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and exhaled roughly. It only made him cough, and he rubbed his hand against his chest. Then he reached out to cup Stuart's cheek. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to snap. Look, this isn't easy for me. I won't deny it. I just don't want you automatically writing me off. Makes me feel like I can't even try. It's not too much. I like it. I'm sorry if you don't think I do. I'm just not good at saying it. I was trying to just show you, but I guess I didn't do enough. I tucked you in... thought that was a good start."
Stuart pushed up on his elbows and sunk back onto the pillows so he was half sitting and half lying, but could see Tom's face better. He kept the covers pulled tightly around him because he really was fucking freezing like he had dived naked head first into a pile of snow. Which he had done as a kid, but that was another story. And one that would probably come out as an embarrassing story at a large family dinner or his engagement party or some shit. "I was just trying to give you an out in case you wanted it," he said quietly. "I didnae mean to make you feel like that, I'm sorry. It's nay that at all. Because I just... it wasnae entirely a selfless act. Because if I gave you an out and you took it, it would... hurt less than if you just took off because it was too much. I was awake, sort of. Only not. Aware, but nay awake. I thought I was imagining it because I... wanted it." There, it was out there. As much out there as it could be for now, and stomach was already roiling because he knew he had been uptight about it. He rubbed his hand over his stomach and then just tucked the covers a little tighter under his chin.
Tom stroked his hand over Stuart's damp hair and let out a sigh. "Well, don't. I did it, you weren't imagining it. I want to try, Stuart. I do. More than I ever thought I would, and yes, that scares me. Doesn't mean I'm running away. Just means I'm not always going to be smooth... Or sure." He gave Stuart a little smile. "Just tell me what you need."
"I dinnae want smooth. My dick hurts too much. I just want you. I dinnae even know what I want. I'm all lost now because I've been stressing about that for days," Stuart admitted sheepishly, biting down on his lip. He held his hand out, trying to come up with something. "What does your Ma' do for you when you're ill? When you were ill. You didnae mention if she was like my Mum and still tries to do the whole Mum thing even if I'm pushing thirty." He paused in the talking for a moment, something abruptly hitting his brain as he looked at Tom's face, seeing the small smile. He had it bad. He was feeling like crap, Tom was feeling like crap, and this was actually making him trip further head over heels for the guy.
"You've got me, Stuart. I'm not sure if I can ever tell you enough times that you'll believe me. I don't actually want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else. My dick hurts too, but at least yours is right there hurting alongside it. I'm not trying this with anyone else, am I?" Tom pulled Stuart's head towards his for a quick kiss. "Yeah, she does. She always does. I'm still her darling boy. She just... makes me soup, and brings me tea. Sits with me when I'm feeling shitty. She did that thing where she always used to brush her fingers over my forehead, and hair. It was nice." Tom frowned a little as he realised Stuart had fallen into an unusual silence. "What?"
Stuart didn't know if it was just because he felt too crap to maintain the facade or the tiptoeing around his feelings thing. In fact, he was too tired to even try and come up with an excuse for the silence because he knew he would fuck it up and he knew he was a lot more open and readable when he was ill. Tom had honed right in on that. It was probably why Stuart tended to be a hibernater when he was ill. No one could niggle away at his weak points, or see him functioning at half capacity. He gave a tiny shrug of his shoulder, even if he was still shivering. "I'm falling for you."
Tom's eyes went wide, and then he just smirked. A sliver of his old self - his well self - shone through as he looked like the cat that got the cream. "Is that all? For a moment I thought you were going to tell me you've realised it's no fun being around a hot, sexy, powerful lawyer when they're sick. I thought I'd been too pathetic for you to care about me anymore." Tom's tongue darted out to wet his cracked lips before he went back to breathing heavily through his mouth. He certainly didn't feel like a hot, sexy, powerful lawyer lately. "Remind me to fuck you senseless when we're better for that statement. And... I'm falling for you, too."
Stuart's mouth dropped open a little. He hadn't expected reciprocation. At best, he expected Tom to accept the information and be okay with it, and that would have been plenty for Stuart, it really would have. This was unexpected, and his eyes flicked back and forth between Tom's as he cleared his throat. "It's the opposite. It's been comforting seeing you like this. Nay that I would wish you ill, but the closeness and the taking care of you, seeing you looking like you just need a hug. It's meant a lot to me, because despite all the drivel falling out of my mouth that I keep fucking up, it's been nice feeling you let me in when I know it isnae easy for you at all. I've just been scared, nervous... that I might be like your paralegal. Because I knew what I was starting to feel and I thought if I told you, it might make you put the breaks on and I didnae want you to put the breaks on," he said in a rush as he ran out of breath and then leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Tom's lips.
Tom chuckled until it made him cough, and he pulled Stuart back down into a tight hug. "You talk too much, I'll give you that. I've never met someone that rambles so much and can still be sexy. I blame the accent. And I realise my history isn't giving you much faith in me, and my ability to feel something for you, but I do. And even though I'm telling you, I might also need some leniency if I start to hyperventilate and try and deny everything." Tom rubbed his hand against Stuart's back, feeling the slick sweat there. "You're not my paralegal. And he was never really my paralegal. I didn't let him become mine. I want you to be mine, and mine alone. I just might need to ignore the whys for a little while."
Stuart's face was squished in against Tom's shoulder. "Mm, this. This is what I need," he told Tom, even if it was slightly muffled from his position. He was pretty sure he could stay here for hours and completely ignore any cramps or pins and needles that came from it. "I know I've been a real dick. I can occasionally have a streak of lacking self-confidence when I dinnae have all the facts at my discretion, but I know now that I did have them, I just got scared of them. I'm a big dick, but I'm blaming the flu. I cannae even blame Man Flu because all I was doing was curling up in a ball. If you start to hyperventilate, can I just give you a wee smack in the head and fuck your brains out until you get thinking back on the straight and narrow again? You're roasting again, too. I'm going to attack you with the Vicks again."
"You don't need an excuse to fuck my brains out," Tom replied in a murmur. He really wish he did feel better so he could take advantage of the deep and meaningful revelations. It was the kind of admission that needed a good, hard fuck to follow it. He was picturing in his mind the positions, and tried to make a mental note of them so he could remember when the time came. "I think there needs to be a mutual Vicks attack. You might not have the Man Flu, but you're still sick. Just wish I knew how to stop the nausea."
Stuart smirked. "Vicks attack. That shouldnae sound so hot." He wet his lips, still more than happy in the embrace, even if they were both burning up and it was hot and sticky, it was still nice. "That's been there for a few months. It isnae really the flu, just the flu making it worse. I didnae mention it before because it's all nearly over with but a few months back I was sent out to a crime scene. It was contaminated. Five bodies, and they all were riddled with this infection. We didnae know until the autopsy. Me, my partner at the time, the pathologist and a few uniforms were told to take some post-exposure antibiotics for three months, eight pills a day. When I first started taking them, I was as sick as a dog from the side effects. Then they eased off, but I sitll feel sick now and again. That's why Gee thought I was pissing my brains out in the bathroom, but I was just taking the medication. Doc basically just told me I had to wear the nausea if general remedies didnae help it."
Tom gave Stuart's side a soft squeeze. "I'm sorry. I realise your job isn't always easy. Still, eight pills? Fuck... Reminds me why I hate being sick. Even if being able to lie in bed with you is a nice consolation. So the three months is nearly up? Bet you're still glad you managed to work it out with Gee before she assumed you had a bladder transplant, or something."
Stuart laughed and gave his sore nose a small rub. "Bladder transplant. It wouldnae have surprised me at all. But I'm a lad, I'm highly protective of that part of me and I didnae want anyone thinking I had a dodgy cock. She spoke about it to another guy, a pal of hers who is a DS with the Major Investigations Unit. I felt like a dork, but I'm glad we sorted it out. She really thought I was one of those eccentric detective dudes who needed to hang out in the bathroom to help the thought process," he sniggered. "I'll be fucking glad when it's finished. The other week, I puked for the first time at a crime scene ever. I tainted my pristine track record. I was so pissed off."
Tom managed to press his lips against Stuart's forehead, feeling his fever burning. They really were both boiling hot, but neither seemed to want to move. Tom knew he didn't, if only because he felt less vulnerable after admitting to Stuart he was falling for him if the Scot stayed in bed with him. It was awfully tempting though to try and run a cold bath. See if they could bring both their temps down. "I'll kiss it better for you, love. You're still every inch a man in my eyes."
It was the next day that Stuart woke up feeling worse than he had the day before. It was fortunate he had already had mind to call in in sick in advance. It was tolerable the evening before when he had bitten the proverbial bullet and taken the nursing duties into his own hands with Tom. He expected protests, maybe even Tom pulling away when he realised that it wasn't just farting in bed that was taking them to another level. In fact, submitting to a lover that you were weak and needed comfort wasn't even in the same realm as farting in front of each other. Stuart just couldn't shake the nerves that Tom's tolerance to the intimacy would hit a brick wall and he would boot Stuart out, never to see each other again. The night before, his brain had still functioned enough to let him think himself in a swirl of thoughts along these lines. In fact, he didn't sleep very well at all, and it was ironic considering Tom kept up his end of the bargain and stayed snuggled up to Stuart most of the night while they slept, and the covers were evenly shared. There was even once when Stuart thought he woke up briefly to Tom tucking the covers securely but carefully around him, but Stuart just figured he must have been dreaming because he hadn't woken up completely.
When Stuart woke up, he felt like someone was painful pushing his head down against the pillow it felt so heavy. With Tom still curled up next to him, breathing heavily through his mouth and still looking like death, Stuart had groggily peeled himself out of bed to find the sheets damp from sweat under him. He didn't even want to think about, so he just felt his way wearily over to the en suite. He was washing his hands after a pee when the nausea struck again, causing him to retch into the sink. Nothing much came up and it took more effort and energy than he cared to relinquish. He was woozy when he was done, so he just washed the mess away and rinsed the gross taste of his mouth and miserably retreated back to the safehaven of Tom's bed. He tried not to make a sound as he stiffly slid back into the damp spot he had left. He over tired now. Sleep was completely off the menu. A tiny pained noise escaped before he could stop it while he tried to find a comfortable spot for his head on the pillow and then tucked his hand in under Tom's fingers to steal some comfort, and just lay there in a shivering ball to wait for the nausea to pass again.
Tom had felt Stuart leave the bed, but his brain had been slow to wake up. He was still under the impression that if he lay there with his eyes closed that everything would magically heal. He'd wake up cured, and rested. If only because there was a art of him that wanted to be one hundred percent better to take care of Stuart. It wasn't fair that Stuart had been feeling shit and still had to take care of Tom.
Tom had his illness, and the ignorance of how to take care of someone else dragging him down. He was only reluctant in trying to broach the matter because he didn't feel as if it was fair that Stuart might have to pick up his slack. He had no idea that Stuart might take it as Tom not wanting to pursue a deeper connection. Tom's mind wasn't on anything besides getting better so he could care for Stuart. An oddly Alpha male thing to want, and the symptom of someone too used to being in power, and being in control.
By the time Stuart had slipped back into bed, Tom was awake. He squeezed his hand softly, and shifted in the bed to bring Stuart's hand to his mouth so he could kiss the back of it. He could feel Stuart shaking, and wet his lips as he tried to speak without his voice croaking. "What's wrong, love?"
Stuart gave a small laugh, which sort of got caught in the back of his nose and throat and made him sneeze wetly. He scrunched his nose up and reached for some tissues to wipe his nose. He hadn't realised Tom had been awake and the squeeze of his hand felt nice. "Just feel crap. You know how it goes," he answered, trying to clear the thick feeling in his throat. The shiver felt like it swept over his whole body and he reflexively curled further in against Tom to draw some of his warmth. He gave Tom's stomach a small rub. "Are you okay? Do you need anything? Do you want tea?" he asked as he fought of another heavy shiver.
Tom wrapped his arms around Stuart tightly, and even pulled the covers up around them both to try and help the detective get warm. If the lights were on, and he was sure Stuart would catch his look, he would have been glaring at him. "Don't worry about tea, not when you're shaking all over. I... Let me be the one to take care of you now. Okay? We'll just get you warm before anything else. And I just feel like crap. You know how it goes," he echoed with a small smile.
"It's okay. I'm okay." The lies spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them in a hasty bid to stop Tom thinking he had to do something he couldn't or didn't want to do. Stuart wasn't really okay, he felt sick and he'd been vomiting regularly since the bug hit. It was the damn medication. With everything else feelign crap, his weakened stomach was going out in sympathy. "You should eat something. We can do that, and watch crappy TV. You actually have Sky TV hooked up in your bedroom, I'm so fecking jealous," he joked.
Tom's eyebrows went up, and his eyes really did fix on Stuart's face this time. "You're a shit liar when you're sick," he mumbled. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be hurt, or offended at Stuart trying to lie to him about being okay. "What can I do for you? Just tell me. Or I won't turn on the telly. While you're sick, and you're here, it's in your bedroom too, you know. Only I'll unhook it if you bullshit me again."
Stuart had the decency to look scandalised that Tom would pinch the pay TV access when it was right there and they could just lie watching it for hours on end. It also caused him to curse silently at himself for his crap lying skills. If Gee was a fly on the wall, she'd probably be facepalming right now. It was so tempting to just bury his head under the pillow and play dead. "I just... we just-" He cut himself off in a sharp sneeze that he caught in the bunch of tissues in his hand. Probably a good thing on account of the fact he was making it up as he went along, trying to flounder around the edges. "I wasnae sure you'd know... want to know... the taking care of thing, or if it would mean... other things," he mumbled and snapped his mouth shut, wiping pitifully at his nose while he let Tom process the rather elusive comment.
"Bless you," Tom murmured. Then he fell silent, the elusive comment too much for his brain to comprehend, but he was determined to work it out. He lay there attempting to fill in the blanks mentally, but all he could do was feel the snot slowly oozing into every inch of his brain, determined to make him dumb. "I have no idea what the fuck you just said."
Stuart could feel the mucus in the back of his throat and it was making him cough, causing his nose to drip more. The tissues were becoming more and more soggy as he went on, and when Tom replied, he just sort of managed to shrink down into the pillows further. First, he decided in his effed up snot-filled head that he imagined Tom tucking him in during the middle of the night. Second, he was scared to even ask if Tom minded the whole Vicks thingo. It hadn't been mentioned again, even if he knew they had both mostly just slept a lot after it. This was the first they had spoken much, and even then Stuart was coming out sounding like a Teletubby on crack. "I didnae know if all this..." he waved his hand at the unkempt room they had both been occupying whilst sick to the point it had become messy and neither seemed to care, "... if would be too much too soon. If it is, I can go. It's okay. I willnae be offended or upset."
"I am," Tom snapped before he could stop himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and exhaled roughly. It only made him cough, and he rubbed his hand against his chest. Then he reached out to cup Stuart's cheek. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to snap. Look, this isn't easy for me. I won't deny it. I just don't want you automatically writing me off. Makes me feel like I can't even try. It's not too much. I like it. I'm sorry if you don't think I do. I'm just not good at saying it. I was trying to just show you, but I guess I didn't do enough. I tucked you in... thought that was a good start."
Stuart pushed up on his elbows and sunk back onto the pillows so he was half sitting and half lying, but could see Tom's face better. He kept the covers pulled tightly around him because he really was fucking freezing like he had dived naked head first into a pile of snow. Which he had done as a kid, but that was another story. And one that would probably come out as an embarrassing story at a large family dinner or his engagement party or some shit. "I was just trying to give you an out in case you wanted it," he said quietly. "I didnae mean to make you feel like that, I'm sorry. It's nay that at all. Because I just... it wasnae entirely a selfless act. Because if I gave you an out and you took it, it would... hurt less than if you just took off because it was too much. I was awake, sort of. Only not. Aware, but nay awake. I thought I was imagining it because I... wanted it." There, it was out there. As much out there as it could be for now, and stomach was already roiling because he knew he had been uptight about it. He rubbed his hand over his stomach and then just tucked the covers a little tighter under his chin.
Tom stroked his hand over Stuart's damp hair and let out a sigh. "Well, don't. I did it, you weren't imagining it. I want to try, Stuart. I do. More than I ever thought I would, and yes, that scares me. Doesn't mean I'm running away. Just means I'm not always going to be smooth... Or sure." He gave Stuart a little smile. "Just tell me what you need."
"I dinnae want smooth. My dick hurts too much. I just want you. I dinnae even know what I want. I'm all lost now because I've been stressing about that for days," Stuart admitted sheepishly, biting down on his lip. He held his hand out, trying to come up with something. "What does your Ma' do for you when you're ill? When you were ill. You didnae mention if she was like my Mum and still tries to do the whole Mum thing even if I'm pushing thirty." He paused in the talking for a moment, something abruptly hitting his brain as he looked at Tom's face, seeing the small smile. He had it bad. He was feeling like crap, Tom was feeling like crap, and this was actually making him trip further head over heels for the guy.
"You've got me, Stuart. I'm not sure if I can ever tell you enough times that you'll believe me. I don't actually want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else. My dick hurts too, but at least yours is right there hurting alongside it. I'm not trying this with anyone else, am I?" Tom pulled Stuart's head towards his for a quick kiss. "Yeah, she does. She always does. I'm still her darling boy. She just... makes me soup, and brings me tea. Sits with me when I'm feeling shitty. She did that thing where she always used to brush her fingers over my forehead, and hair. It was nice." Tom frowned a little as he realised Stuart had fallen into an unusual silence. "What?"
Stuart didn't know if it was just because he felt too crap to maintain the facade or the tiptoeing around his feelings thing. In fact, he was too tired to even try and come up with an excuse for the silence because he knew he would fuck it up and he knew he was a lot more open and readable when he was ill. Tom had honed right in on that. It was probably why Stuart tended to be a hibernater when he was ill. No one could niggle away at his weak points, or see him functioning at half capacity. He gave a tiny shrug of his shoulder, even if he was still shivering. "I'm falling for you."
Tom's eyes went wide, and then he just smirked. A sliver of his old self - his well self - shone through as he looked like the cat that got the cream. "Is that all? For a moment I thought you were going to tell me you've realised it's no fun being around a hot, sexy, powerful lawyer when they're sick. I thought I'd been too pathetic for you to care about me anymore." Tom's tongue darted out to wet his cracked lips before he went back to breathing heavily through his mouth. He certainly didn't feel like a hot, sexy, powerful lawyer lately. "Remind me to fuck you senseless when we're better for that statement. And... I'm falling for you, too."
Stuart's mouth dropped open a little. He hadn't expected reciprocation. At best, he expected Tom to accept the information and be okay with it, and that would have been plenty for Stuart, it really would have. This was unexpected, and his eyes flicked back and forth between Tom's as he cleared his throat. "It's the opposite. It's been comforting seeing you like this. Nay that I would wish you ill, but the closeness and the taking care of you, seeing you looking like you just need a hug. It's meant a lot to me, because despite all the drivel falling out of my mouth that I keep fucking up, it's been nice feeling you let me in when I know it isnae easy for you at all. I've just been scared, nervous... that I might be like your paralegal. Because I knew what I was starting to feel and I thought if I told you, it might make you put the breaks on and I didnae want you to put the breaks on," he said in a rush as he ran out of breath and then leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Tom's lips.
Tom chuckled until it made him cough, and he pulled Stuart back down into a tight hug. "You talk too much, I'll give you that. I've never met someone that rambles so much and can still be sexy. I blame the accent. And I realise my history isn't giving you much faith in me, and my ability to feel something for you, but I do. And even though I'm telling you, I might also need some leniency if I start to hyperventilate and try and deny everything." Tom rubbed his hand against Stuart's back, feeling the slick sweat there. "You're not my paralegal. And he was never really my paralegal. I didn't let him become mine. I want you to be mine, and mine alone. I just might need to ignore the whys for a little while."
Stuart's face was squished in against Tom's shoulder. "Mm, this. This is what I need," he told Tom, even if it was slightly muffled from his position. He was pretty sure he could stay here for hours and completely ignore any cramps or pins and needles that came from it. "I know I've been a real dick. I can occasionally have a streak of lacking self-confidence when I dinnae have all the facts at my discretion, but I know now that I did have them, I just got scared of them. I'm a big dick, but I'm blaming the flu. I cannae even blame Man Flu because all I was doing was curling up in a ball. If you start to hyperventilate, can I just give you a wee smack in the head and fuck your brains out until you get thinking back on the straight and narrow again? You're roasting again, too. I'm going to attack you with the Vicks again."
"You don't need an excuse to fuck my brains out," Tom replied in a murmur. He really wish he did feel better so he could take advantage of the deep and meaningful revelations. It was the kind of admission that needed a good, hard fuck to follow it. He was picturing in his mind the positions, and tried to make a mental note of them so he could remember when the time came. "I think there needs to be a mutual Vicks attack. You might not have the Man Flu, but you're still sick. Just wish I knew how to stop the nausea."
Stuart smirked. "Vicks attack. That shouldnae sound so hot." He wet his lips, still more than happy in the embrace, even if they were both burning up and it was hot and sticky, it was still nice. "That's been there for a few months. It isnae really the flu, just the flu making it worse. I didnae mention it before because it's all nearly over with but a few months back I was sent out to a crime scene. It was contaminated. Five bodies, and they all were riddled with this infection. We didnae know until the autopsy. Me, my partner at the time, the pathologist and a few uniforms were told to take some post-exposure antibiotics for three months, eight pills a day. When I first started taking them, I was as sick as a dog from the side effects. Then they eased off, but I sitll feel sick now and again. That's why Gee thought I was pissing my brains out in the bathroom, but I was just taking the medication. Doc basically just told me I had to wear the nausea if general remedies didnae help it."
Tom gave Stuart's side a soft squeeze. "I'm sorry. I realise your job isn't always easy. Still, eight pills? Fuck... Reminds me why I hate being sick. Even if being able to lie in bed with you is a nice consolation. So the three months is nearly up? Bet you're still glad you managed to work it out with Gee before she assumed you had a bladder transplant, or something."
Stuart laughed and gave his sore nose a small rub. "Bladder transplant. It wouldnae have surprised me at all. But I'm a lad, I'm highly protective of that part of me and I didnae want anyone thinking I had a dodgy cock. She spoke about it to another guy, a pal of hers who is a DS with the Major Investigations Unit. I felt like a dork, but I'm glad we sorted it out. She really thought I was one of those eccentric detective dudes who needed to hang out in the bathroom to help the thought process," he sniggered. "I'll be fucking glad when it's finished. The other week, I puked for the first time at a crime scene ever. I tainted my pristine track record. I was so pissed off."
Tom managed to press his lips against Stuart's forehead, feeling his fever burning. They really were both boiling hot, but neither seemed to want to move. Tom knew he didn't, if only because he felt less vulnerable after admitting to Stuart he was falling for him if the Scot stayed in bed with him. It was awfully tempting though to try and run a cold bath. See if they could bring both their temps down. "I'll kiss it better for you, love. You're still every inch a man in my eyes."