My Warchild angst, let me show you it.
Jos can see the fall snow through the frost-dulled windows, hears the high winds of the mountain howling around the house. His senses are slightly muffled and he can already feel the beginnings of a dry, rustling scratch at the back of his throat. He hates being sick, with the inevitable unnerving loss of control over his own body. It always brings ruthlessly buried memories bursting through the surfaces.
He pulls the thick blanket tighter around himself as he curls more comfortably on his pallet, trying to stifle the urge to cough. The knock on the door is so soft it doesn't startle him out of his half-drowse. He doesn't bother to pull himself upright as Niko enters the room, sliding the door closed behind himself carefully. He balances a steaming bowl in one hand and Jos recognizes the scent of candybark soup even before Niko hands him the bowl with a soft smile. His hand is still warm from the bowl and Jos can feel the rough callouses against the tender skin at the back of his neck as Niko lays his hand there, testing for fever. Unthinkingly leaning into the cradling touch, Jos lets out a slow breath.
When Niko pulls his hand away, his fingers slide briefly through the short, soft strands of hair at the base of Jos' skull and Jos' eyes begin to slide closed. He can feel Niko's affectionate, unintrusive gaze, even when he opens his eyes and turns to watch the falling snow.
Jos' pupils are blown wide, and Niko can feel his nails digging into his skin, even through the coiled layers of his clothing. He tries to kiss him gently, soothe him down, but their teeth clash awkwardly. Jos can't seem to keep still, all sharp, jerky movements, pushing stubbornly against Niko's body. Even the scent of his sweat, overlying the more familiar scents of cycled air and tea, is sharper than usual, as though it will sting Niko's tongue if he kisses his skin.
And when it's all over, Jos is completely still beside him for the long moments it takes for their breath to slow and even out before he lets out a low sigh. Pillowing his cheek against his palm, he just looks at Niko, his eyes too bright and glistening. "If you'd wanted it, I would have begged."
Niko reaches out and crushes Jos to his chest, buring his face in his hair to hide the useless tears, because this was never what he'd intended to make him feel.