Vaccinated: G, Fluff
Fingers stroked my sweaty forehead. Hands slid across my bare shoulders, down my arms, gently massaging. Lips pressed below my ear and I mumbled incoherently, fighting to think coherently through the fog in my mind.
“Nn..stop…”
But the gentle caresses continued despite my protest. I pulled away from those strong hands and raised my head weakly, meeting soft blue eyes.
“Stoppit, Sergei.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked gently, ignoring my order. He brushed the hair out of my eyes and the feel of him touching me was just too nice to complain about, so I didn’t. I did, however, bat at his hand. It didn’t do anything to move him, but at least I could say that I’d tried.
“Sick. And if you keep coming in here you will be too.”
Sergei smiled at me, eyes crinkling at their corners. He leaned down to press another kiss to my lips.
“I’ll be fine. Besides, the game winner can’t be left unattended, can he?”
“Shootouts don’t count,” I mumbled. Sergei chuckled and slipped an arm around my chest, pulling me into a sitting position. I felt lightheaded and woozy and groaned as he slid onto the bed with me, maneuvering so I was in his lap, he leaning against the headboard and my back pressed against his chest. At some point he’d brought in a platter containing tea and placed it on the bedside table-I must have been too out of it to notice-and as I rested against him he reached to the side, picking up a cup and bringing it to my lips.
“It’s cool enough,” he murmured reassuringly, free hand running up and down my arm. I wanted to reach up and take it from him but my arms felt like lead and my head too heavy to move, so I just let him tip the soothing liquid into my mouth, parting my lips; trusting him to not try and drown me. He rubbed my shoulder as I sipped the pleasantly refreshing tea, the scent of bitter herbs clearing my head to a degree.
“You shouldn’t have played tonight,” he continued, scolding gently. “Just coming off being so sick; you should have given your body longer to recuperate. I don’t want to see you get plastered into the boards tomorrow. You looked out of it tonight.”
“Good enough to score,” I grumbled, gulping down the last of the tea. Sergei smiled against my neck and placed the cup back down, and I let my head rest on his shoulder, feeling replete and sick both; my body weighted down and tired yet pleasantly sated. Sergei wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, and feeling him strong behind me lulled me into weary peacefulness.
“You were very good,” he agreed. He nuzzled my neck tenderly. “But let me worry about you, it makes me feel better. Otherwise I just feel useless when you’re sick…”
My chest warmed in a way even the tea hadn’t been able to do. I turned around in his arms, meeting that gentle blue gaze. I smiled and kissed him softly, lapping at his lips, and his long fingers curled around my shoulders to keep me steady as I slipped my tongue inside his mouth. Exploring, tasting, I kissed him languidly as he pulled me down to the bed, sliding beneath the blankets as we rested our heads on the pillow. I pulled back to look at him, taking in the loving way he was regarding me, gentle and tender. I laid my cheek against his chest and closed my eyes, smiling contently despite the sickness invading my body. If love could be a drug than Sergei’s was a universal vaccine, the cure for all my ailments and troubles.
And if a week later I had to nurse him back to health the same way he had me, I could recall how grateful and loved I had felt and patiently put up with the whimpering groans, wrapping him in my arms and spooning broth into his mouth, his head resting on my shoulder.
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“Nn..stop…”
But the gentle caresses continued despite my protest. I pulled away from those strong hands and raised my head weakly, meeting soft blue eyes.
“Stoppit, Sergei.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked gently, ignoring my order. He brushed the hair out of my eyes and the feel of him touching me was just too nice to complain about, so I didn’t. I did, however, bat at his hand. It didn’t do anything to move him, but at least I could say that I’d tried.
“Sick. And if you keep coming in here you will be too.”
Sergei smiled at me, eyes crinkling at their corners. He leaned down to press another kiss to my lips.
“I’ll be fine. Besides, the game winner can’t be left unattended, can he?”
“Shootouts don’t count,” I mumbled. Sergei chuckled and slipped an arm around my chest, pulling me into a sitting position. I felt lightheaded and woozy and groaned as he slid onto the bed with me, maneuvering so I was in his lap, he leaning against the headboard and my back pressed against his chest. At some point he’d brought in a platter containing tea and placed it on the bedside table-I must have been too out of it to notice-and as I rested against him he reached to the side, picking up a cup and bringing it to my lips.
“It’s cool enough,” he murmured reassuringly, free hand running up and down my arm. I wanted to reach up and take it from him but my arms felt like lead and my head too heavy to move, so I just let him tip the soothing liquid into my mouth, parting my lips; trusting him to not try and drown me. He rubbed my shoulder as I sipped the pleasantly refreshing tea, the scent of bitter herbs clearing my head to a degree.
“You shouldn’t have played tonight,” he continued, scolding gently. “Just coming off being so sick; you should have given your body longer to recuperate. I don’t want to see you get plastered into the boards tomorrow. You looked out of it tonight.”
“Good enough to score,” I grumbled, gulping down the last of the tea. Sergei smiled against my neck and placed the cup back down, and I let my head rest on his shoulder, feeling replete and sick both; my body weighted down and tired yet pleasantly sated. Sergei wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, and feeling him strong behind me lulled me into weary peacefulness.
“You were very good,” he agreed. He nuzzled my neck tenderly. “But let me worry about you, it makes me feel better. Otherwise I just feel useless when you’re sick…”
My chest warmed in a way even the tea hadn’t been able to do. I turned around in his arms, meeting that gentle blue gaze. I smiled and kissed him softly, lapping at his lips, and his long fingers curled around my shoulders to keep me steady as I slipped my tongue inside his mouth. Exploring, tasting, I kissed him languidly as he pulled me down to the bed, sliding beneath the blankets as we rested our heads on the pillow. I pulled back to look at him, taking in the loving way he was regarding me, gentle and tender. I laid my cheek against his chest and closed my eyes, smiling contently despite the sickness invading my body. If love could be a drug than Sergei’s was a universal vaccine, the cure for all my ailments and troubles.
And if a week later I had to nurse him back to health the same way he had me, I could recall how grateful and loved I had felt and patiently put up with the whimpering groans, wrapping him in my arms and spooning broth into his mouth, his head resting on my shoulder.
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