Share and Share Alike (The New Normal, m)

[angora48]

This is a sequel to the other New Normal fic I posted recently, "How It Is with Bryan," so check that one out first if you haven't yet.  The story is set around a week after the first one.  Once again, our characters are David and Bryan (David on the left, Bryan on the right.)

Here's Part 1.

 

Share and Share Alike

 

 

Blinking made David’s eyelids heavy, and he lethargically rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand as he scrolled down to Goldie’s number in his contacts.  While he waited for her to pick up, he swallowed experimentally to see if the slight ache in his throat had gotten any worse.

“David, hey!” came the surrogate’s cheerful voice.  “How’s the patient – any better?”

David gave a somewhat-forced smile – he wasn’t sure why he did that over the phone, but he did it anyway.  “Yeah…” he said, in voice that made it clear that a “but” was coming.  “…but he’s still feeling a little sniffly, add I thought, better safe thad sorry…”

“Right – no problem,” Goldie replied.  “I mean, we miss seeing you guys, of course, but I totally get it.  Let me know when he’s feeling better, and we’ll do dinner or something, okay?”

“Right,” David said, biting back a wince – she was going to be waiting a while longer yet.  “Talk to you soon.”

“Bye,” Goldie responded, and they both hung up.

Ordinarily, Goldie and Shania spent plenty of time around the house (along with Goldie’s mother,) but they hadn’t been by since Bryan had gotten sick.  While David knew they didn’t really have anything to worry about, he’d still thought that Goldie, being pregnant, would be better off not being around Bryan’s germs, and so he’d warned her and her family away until Bryan was on the mend.

Now, though… David sniffed a little, giving his nose a quick rub.  Bryan had had his cold for six days, and although he was starting to feel a bit better (and, David figured, not contagious anymore,) David was just beginning to come down with it.  At this rate, it’d be another week at least before the house was sufficiently disinfected.

He ought to have said as much to Goldie.  He knew it – it was silly not to, and she was going to wonder what was up when another day or two went by and David still hadn’t given her the all-clear.  But if Bryan was eager to let anyone he encountered know just how miserable he felt, David was the opposite.  Getting sick always made him feel a little self-conscious, and so, he hadn’t said anything.

As David made his way into the living room, Bryan, lounging on the couch, looked up from his lazy channel-surfing.  “Did you talk to Goldie?” he asked.  His color was looking better than it had the last few days, but his voice still had some scratch and congestion to it.

“It’s fine,” David told him, bending down to kiss the top of his partner’s head.  “She understads; we’ll see her whed you’re feeling better.”  He touched his nose lightly, resisting the urge to rub it.

“Good,” Bryan replied.  He twisted around so he could see David better, letting his arm hang over the back of the couch.  “I bean, I love Goldie add Shadia, but to be honest, I’be a little glad.  Today was way too long, add I- I wouldn’t have wanted to do… cobpadee…” He clamped a hand over his mouth to cover a “hihhhh-uhhhhh-chiiooooo!”

David smiled sympathetically, giving Bryan’s cheek a light stroke with the side of his thumb.  “Gesundheit.  More drama od set?” he asked.

Bryan groaned, flopping back down onto the couch.  “You have doh idea,” he told David.  “I’be gone for, what – four days?  Add I get back add it’s basically Hollywood TV-starlet Lord of the Flies.  I- I… hehhhhhhh-chuhhhhhhhh!”  He sneezed into his hands.  “Ugh – I was putting out fires all day yesterday, add I’ve still got two actresses who aren’t speaking to each other, a bit player who thinks she’s the dext Liza, add an actor who got-” he coughed a little into the back of his hand, “-who got it idto his head that he’s funnier thad the entire writer’s roob.”

“Sounds rough,” David replied, moving toward the kitchen (both to get started on dinner and to sniffle without Bryan noticing.)

“Doh – recasting Dubbledore id the third Harry Potter boovie, that was rough,” Bryan informed him.  As he spoke, he got up and followed David to the kitchen, his quilt trailing on the ground behind him.  “This w-was… hihhhhh… ihhhhh-ehhhhhhh-CHUHHHHHH!”  He sneezed, half into the crook of his arm, lifting the quilt across his face like Dracula’s cape.  “This was a dress rehearsal for the apocalypse.”  He stifled a small cough into his fist and sank into one of the bar stools.  “If I hadd’t had a headache already…”

Even though Bryan had gone back into work the last two days (and, it was safe to assume, made sure everyone on set knew what a martyr he was being for coming in at all when he had a stuffy nose,) he was still firmly in “sick mode.”  The second he’d gotten home from work, he’d changed back into his sick pajamas, and he was still of a mind that he needed David’s attention and sympathy at all times.

But as usual, it worked on David – watching his partner glumly massage his temple, he did feel sympathetic, in no small part because he had a small but persistent ache in his own temple.  “Want some aspirid, babe?” he asked.

“God, yes,” Bryan said, in a voice that suggested that he’d been dying of thirst and David had offered him water, with just a hint of what took you so long? thrown in for good measure.

“Is the bottle id the living room?” David asked, preparing to head back.

Bryan shook his head.  “Bedroob,” he replied.  Of course – there was still a Kleenex box and the extra quilt down here, but most of Bryan’s other accoutrements had migrated upstairs now that he was no longer staying home sick and camped out on the couch all day.

David swallowed a sigh.  “Be right back,” he said, making his way to the stairs.

“Love you,” Bryan called absentmindedly.

“And dod’t you forget it,” David called back.

Climbing the stairs, David felt like he was wading through molasses.  He’d felt tired all day, and the slight ache in his throat had started sometime in the morning, but it wasn’t until later in the afternoon that he’d been hit with the “okay, wow – you’re definitely getting sick” fatigue.  Since he was already at work, he’d made do for the rest of the day, using more hand sanitizer than human skin was designed to withstand and doing his best not to breathe on any of his patients, but he was relieved to finally be home, and even more relieved that it was Saturday – he’d sleep like a log tonight, and he’d have all day tomorrow to rest up.  If he was lucky, he might be able to keep the cold from getting too bad.

(Although, having taken care of Bryan for the last week, David had seen what this cold was made of, and he didn’t like his chances.)

David’s nose started tickling when he got to the bedroom, and he buried a strong sneeze – “ihhhhh-hehhhh-SHUHHHH!” – into his shoulder.  Rubbing his nose with a long sigh, he picked up the aspirin bottle and prepared himself to trudge back down the stairs.

[Alabaster]

I'm excited!

[JRE111]

Yesssss!! 

[angora48]

Thanks!  :-)  Here's Part 2.

 

Bryan was in the mood for a lazy evening, and David was admittedly happy to oblige.  They had their supper – cold chicken sandwiches with leftover tomato soup – in front of the TV, watching nothing in particular while Bryan rested his head on David’s shoulder.  David couldn’t say for sure if being at work had really taken that much out of Bryan or if he was just milking it, but either way, David was okay with his partner’s slightly pouty, low-energy vibe.

He was less okay with his own state.  Now, David wasn’t one to complain over a cold, but he wasn’t feeling great.  His inkling of a headache was spreading out from his temple a bit, and his throat no longer only hurt when he swallowed.  Throw in his eyes feeling bleary from the TV, and it wasn’t a desirable combo. 

And then there was David’s general discomfort at the whole thing, which was honestly worse than the developing cold itself.  Sitting on the couch with Bryan, David wriggled his nose (he hoped discreetly) to try and abate the itchy feeling he had, and he was very aware of needing to clear his throat but not wanting to actually do it.

So when Bryan said, wiping his nose with a tissue, “God, I’be so useless todight.  Would you bind if I just go to bed?”, David was all too willing to give that plan his stamp of approval.  He thought about leaving Bryan to it and staying in the living room a while longer, where he could sniffle in solitude, but in the end, he couldn’t really get behind the idea of sitting up any longer.  He’d had it for the day, and he was ready to turn in.

Bryan didn’t seem to think anything of it when David followed him up to the bedroom, but when he slipped into bed and, turning, saw David grabbing a pair of pajama pants out of the dresser, he frowned a little.  “Y- hehhhhhhh-shiuhhhhhh!”  He made a face.  “God, I’be so sick of sdeezing – you tired, hud?”

“Oh, you know,” David replied, “log day.”  (I’m not feeling too well – it wasn’t that hard to say.  Just say it!)

“You don’t have to go to bed whed I do,” Bryan pointed out, propping himself up on his elbow as he watched David change.  “Just because I’ve got to wuss out at 8:30-”

“It’s fine,” David told him.  He walked over to the bed and slipped under the covers.  “I could use ad early night, too.”

“If you say so,” Bryan drawled back.  “I’be just saying you dod’t have to.”  He grabbed his pillow and held it to his face.  “Ehhhhh-hihhhhh-chiuuhhhhhhh!”

“Gesudheit,” David said as Bryan emerged, and he kissed his partner’s temple.  “Sleep well.”

“Uh huh…” Bryan murmured, somewhere between drowsy and bored.

David clicked off the lamp on the nightstand, and they lay there together in comfortable relative quiet.  Bryan was still sneezing some and coughing a little, but not too badly.  When David didn’t roll over to spoon Bryan, Bryan took on the big-spoon role himself, wrapping his arms warmly around David.

Despite how tired he felt, David couldn’t get to sleep as easily as he would have liked.  His throat was bothering him, and he was starting to feel stuffed up.  He lay, drearily awake, for another ten minutes, trying not to sniffle and rubbing his nose when an irritation flared up.  He was just wondering if Bryan had drifted off when he heard a deep sigh from his partner.

“You okay, Bry?” he asked.

Bryan muffled a cough into his pillow and then said, “I’be sorry,” in a mildly-pitiful voice.

David didn’t really want to extricate himself from Bryan’s arms, but Bryan sounded so unhappy that David had to see what was wrong, so he rolled over, rubbing his eyes.  “For what?”

“I gave you by cold,” Bryan pointed out glumly.

David’s first instinct was to deny it, but he knew how dumb that was.  He wondered how Bryan had noticed – he’d thought he’d been keeping a lid on his sniffles.  At any rate, even if he felt like cringing on the inside, the look on Bryan’s face made David put on a “don’t worry about me” expression and reply, “Dod’t sweat it.  It happens.”

“Yeah, it does,” Bryan told him.  “Specifically, th- this happ-eds… ihhhhhh-shooooooo!”  He cupped his hands over his face to sneeze, then sighed heavily.  “You devver get be sick, and I always get you sick.”  He rubbed his nose, sniffling hard.  “God, I’be sorry.  I didn’t wadt to get you sick.”

Bryan could be stubborn and dramatic and absurd, and he was wonderful; David wrapped a comforting arm around him.  In the wake of his partner’s no-doubt abject contrition, David’s self-consciousness was melting away.  “Hey, I like taking care of you, okay?” he informed Bryan.  “You’re by favorite patient – well, baybe now a close second to Goldie add our baby.  But you’re by favorite person, add I love being near you.”  He tapped Bryan’s nose.  “Even whed you give be your germs.”

Bryan sighed again.  “Yeah, d- hiihhhhhh-chiioooooo!”  He pressed his finger to his nose and groaned.  “Dod’t bind Typhoid Bryan over here.”  David chuckled lightly and kissed him on the forehead.  For a long moment, neither spoke.

“You doh,” Bryan pointed out, starting to come around a tiny bit, “I’ve been getting forehead kisses all week.  But if we’re both sick addyway…?”  Smiling, David leaned over so they could share a small kiss on the mouth.

When David settled back onto his pillow, Bryan grimaced.  “Do you feel awful?” he asked, a note of trepidation in his voice.

David smiled again.  “Definitely dot,” he assured him.  “I feel a little sick – bostely just tired.  Nowhere dear awful.”

Bryan beckoned David closer, and David let himself be folded comfortably into his partner’s arms.  Although Bryan could lament about their usual pattern of him getting David sick, that wasn’t their only pattern.  There was another:  David gets sick, David is self-conscious and doesn’t tell Bryan, Bryan figures it out, David realizes how silly it was to feel embarrassed in the first place.  You’d think by now, David would’ve gotten the hang of this and been able to jump straight to the end, but he still had to go through the whole cycle every time.  Here he was yet again, wondering why he’d ever been hesitant to let Bryan know.

“Ruddy dose?” Bryan asked softly.

David shook his head.  “Just a bit stuffed up,” he replied.

“Cough?”

“No,” David said.  “Dot yet.”

“Sore th- throat…?  Hihhhhh-uhhhhhh-shoooooo!”  Bryan tensed as he sneezed, squeezing David a little tighter.

“Gesundheit – a little,” David admitted.

“Headache?”

“Dot really,” David replied.

Lying the way they were, David couldn’t see Bryan’s face, but he could easily imagine his partner’s bitch-please expression when Bryan said, “Add what the hell is that supposed to bean?”

“A little bit,” David told him.  He touched a finger lightly his right temple.  “Right here.  But it isn’t too bad yet.”

Bryan kissed the spot.  As he sank back onto his pillow, he stifled a cough, and David bounced a little on his chest.  “I’ll be the judge of that,” he pronounced.

David couldn’t help the bemused smile that slid across his face.  “You’re gudda be the judge of how I feel?” he asked.

“Somewud has to be,” Bryan replied.  “You’d just say you’re fide all the time.  Bet if I hadn’t said addything, you wouldn’t have even told be you were sick.”

“I would have,” David protested, although he knew Bryan had his number.  It suddenly occurred to him that Bryan probably rolled his eyes at David’s reticence just as much as David laughed at Bryan’s woe-is-me dramatics.

“Yeah, like toborrow!” Bryan countered.  “When you’re gudda be coughing add sneezing your- your head- off… hehhhh-ihhhhh-uhhhh-shuhhhhhhhhhh!”  He sneezed hard into his fist.  “Like so – kida hard to hide it thed!”

He wasn’t wrong.  David snuggled up close to Bryan.  He still wasn’t overly fond of being sick around other people, but there was something about Bryan that, once he knew what was what, allowed David to drop his guard without getting uncomfortable.  Now, as his own nose started itching, he didn’t try to hold it in – much.  “Hihhhhhhh-SHHHHHHH!” he sneezed, pressing his hand tightly over his nose and mouth.

Bryan tsked softly.  “Bless you,” he said, kissing the top of David’s hand.

Sniffling lightly, David asked, “You going to let be know how I’be feeling then?”

“Oh, dod’t worry,” Bryan replied.  “I’ll keep you posted.”

David smiled, clearing his throat a little as he let his eyes fall closed.  “Good to doh.”

[Elyze]

Aww, they're so cute together. Sorry I don't know the characters, but I read both stories and I like them I especially liked the last bit of this part. I look forward to the rest.

[angora48]

No worries, helyzelle - it's not the first time I've written in a fandom a lot of people don't know about.  I'm glad you like them anyway!

Here's Part 3, the conclusion.

 

“Haahhhhh-ehhhhhh-SHOOOOO!” David sneezed himself awake, his pillow catching the brunt of it.  Rubbing his nose, he rolled over, sniffling and trying to ignore the throbbing in his head.

Blinking his eyes blearily, David turned toward Bryan’s side of the bed to grab one of Bryan’s tissues from his nightstand, but the Kleenex box, like Bryan, wasn’t there.  David sat staring dumbly at it for a moment, coughing into his fist.

He swung himself around to get out of bed – he knew there were more Kleenexes in the bathroom – only to find he’d been beaten to the punch.  There on his own night stand was a box of tissues, the thermometer, a glass of water, the aspirin bottle, and a jar of VapoRub.  David plucked a tissue from the box, wiped his nose, and tossed it in the wastebasket from the guest bathroom, which had found its way to his side of the bed; someone hadn’t wasted any time.

“Bry?” he called, his voice low and congested.

“Cobing!” came the muffled reply from the hall, a little stuffy but sounding a lot better (and more awake) than David.  “Stay where you are!”  With his shoulder, Bryan pushed the bedroom door open and walked in with a tray on each arm.  “It odly counts as breakfast id bed if you stay id bed,” he pointed out.

Setting his own tray down at the foot of the bed (which contained both Bryan’s breakfast and his tissues – he must have taken the box downstairs with him to the kitchen,) Bryan moved to David’s side.  He grabbed David’s pillow and slipped it behind David’s back as he sat up, then set the tray on David’s lap.  There was no logical reason for the plate to be covered, but Bryan had never put much stock in logic.  “Tada!” he announced, lifting the cover with a flourish.

Pancakes topped with cinnamon and finely-chopped bits of apple.  There was also a bottle of maple syrup, a glass of orange juice, a mug of what David assumed was tea, and a tiny vase with a sprig of flowers in it.  God, David loved that man.

“I figured, you doh, ‘apple a day…’” Bryan explained.

David smiled fondly.  “You’re the best,” he said.

“Doh, ‘the best’ wouldn’t have given you his cold id the first place,” Bryan countered, brushing David’s hair back as he muffled a small cough into his shoulder.  “Cad’t go higher thad second best.”

“Fide – you’re the seccod best,” David teased.  Smiling, Bryan leaned down to kiss him, but David pulled back, shaking his head.  “I’be all gross, babe.  By dose is ruddig.”

Bryan adopted a mock pout, kissing David’s forehead instead.  “Please,” Bryan retorted.  “Even whed you’re sick, you’re still sexy.  You really doh how to work the whole ‘disheveled hair, husky voice’ thig.”

Climbing into bed beside David, Bryan grabbed his breakfast.  Now, since he was the one who’d made it and therefore definitely knew what it was, there was even less reason for his tray to have a cover, but did that stop him?  Of course not.  “Tada,” he repeated, in a more blasé tone, as he revealed his own identical pancakes.

David’s smile faded as an itch tickled his nose.  Hurriedly, he pulled a couple Kleenexes from the box on Bryan’s tray.  “Huhhhhhhh-CHUHHHHH!  Ehhhhhh… hihhhhh-chiiiuuhhhhhh!”

“Bless you,” Bryan said, squeezing David’s shoulder and wincing sympathetically.

“Thadks,” David replied.  He blotted lightly at his nose and lobbed the tissues into the wastebasket.  His throat was pretty sore, and he picked up his mug, grimacing a little at the first swallow of his tea.

“Too buch lebbon?” Bryan asked, catching David’s look.  “Throw adduther shot of honey id there if you want.”  He gestured to the bottle of honey on his tray.

“Doh, it’s perfect,” David assured him.  “Just hurts whed I swallow.”  Bryan gave a murmur of sympathy, putting an arm around David and pulling him in close.

“Dow I doh what you’re thinking,” Bryan said as they both dug into their pancakes (which, despite David’s blocked nose messing with his sense of taste, were delicious.)  “‘Okay, it’s Sudday, so I’ll take it easy for today, but toborrow, I’ll totally be good for work.’  Wrong.  You’re staying here, even if I have to gride up sleeping pills to put id your tea.”

David and Bryan had very different ideas about what constituted “sick enough to stay home from work.”  David always arranged for other doctors to handle his appointments when he wasn’t feeling well, but if it was just a cold, he didn’t have any problem with going in and holing up in his office to keep on top of his paperwork.  But then, Bryan did have a talent for getting his way.  “Is that right?” he asked.  His nose itched again, and he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to cover a “hiihhhhhh-CHIUUHHHHHHH!”

“Bless you,” Bryan told him, “add you bet your ass that’s right.  I’ll see if I cad get off, too.  They’ll bitch about it at the studio, but what do they doh?”

David frowned, sniffling and rubbing his nose.  “Dod’t you have your hadds full playig catch-up as it is?”

“That’s why it’s the perfect tibe,” Bryan reasoned.  “It’s like, just add it to the pile.  How buch more cad they really throw at be?”  He turned his head to sneeze a hard “hihhhhh-ehhhhhh-shuhhhhhhh!” into the crook of his arm.

Funny how he could tug even harder at David’s sympathies when he wasn’t trying; Bryan hadn’t one word about his own cold since he’d found out David was sick, but he himself was still definitely under the weather.  “Gesudheit,” David told him, brushing Bryan’s cheek with his knuckles.  “What about you?  How’re you feeling?”

“Oh, you doh be,” Bryan replied cavalierly, “terrible but surviving.”  He sniffled and cozied up a bit closer to David.  “But okay, so what are you thidking for today?  ‘Cause if you just wadda stay in bed all day, that’s fide, but I do have the couch ready to go for you later if you want it.  I was like, ‘There’s gotta be football od sobewhere, Bryan – you just have to fide it.’  Add babe – I did.”

David felt himself grinning.  “Yeah?” he asked.  “You foud a football gabe od a Sudday?  What a- ahhhhhhhhh-HEHHHHHH-shiiuuhhhhhhhh!”  He sniffed hard.  “What are the chadces of that?”

“I doh, right?” Bryan said (he had no idea David was joking; there was something so sweet about that.)  “Addyway, I checked the guide, add the gabe starts at nood, but there’s sobe pre-show stuff that starts earlier, so whatever you want to do…”

David kind of loved that Bryan was plainly clueless about pre-game coverage, even that it was called “pre-game” and not “pre-show”; he wondered if Bryan was envisioning red-carpet interviews like at an awards show.  Still… “You hate football,” David pointed out.

“Add you love football,” Bryan countered.  “If we’re gudda do this, we’re going all out.  Besides, if we were watching Trading Spaces or sobething, by butt would devver leave the couch, and I’ve gotta be id add out of the kitchen.”  His breath started to hitch, and he grabbed a tissue.  “Ahhhhhhhhh… hehhhhhhh… ihhhhhh-chiuhhhhhh!”

“Gesudheit,” David with a wince.

“Ugh…”  Bryan wiped his nose, swallowing a stuffed-up little moan, but he brought himself around quickly.  “How do you feel about chicken doodle soup, hud?  Are you souped out, or-?”

David shook his head.  “Soup will be perfect,” he said, rubbing his throat lightly.

“Good, ‘cause the chicked’s already thawing,” Bryan said, “so doh matter what, it would’ve bed chicken sobething.  Add I was thinking grilled cheese…”

David put his empty tray on the nightstand and, coughing into his hands, let his head fall onto Bryan’s shoulder.  He knew he didn’t need it, any of it, that a cold was no big deal and he could just as easily power through.  That either way, he wasn’t going to get over it any faster with Bryan pampering him.  But he wasn’t gonna lie – the pampering was damn good.

Because that was the other thing about Bryan.  As clingy and faux-pathetic as he tended to be when he got sick, he was also amazingly attentive and caring whenever David was the one not feeling well.  David didn’t know if Bryan expected that other people felt like he did and desperately needed some hardcore TLC, if he usually felt guilty about giving David whatever he had, or if it was just a natural instinct, but whatever the reason, David never felt cozier and more comforted than he did when Bryan was taking care of him; he was going to be such a great dad.

David slipped his hand into Bryan’s.  His partner was still rattling off his sick-day plans, and David turned to kiss him on the neck.  “I love you,” he said.

“Ub, of course you do,” Bryan replied, feigning vanity, but he traced small circles on David’s palm with his thumb and rested his head against David’s.  He sniffled, absentmindedly rubbing his nose with his free hand.  “So I’ll see if I cad get off toborrow?” he said.  David was getting tired again; his eyes were starting to droop, and Bryan’s voice sounded fuzzy around the edges.

It would’ve been practical to say, “Don’t be silly – there’s no reason for you to miss work just because I have a cold,” or even just, “Let’s see how I feel tomorrow.”  And David was a practical guy, most of the time.  Bryan didn’t usually go with what was practical.  More often than not, he just went for what seemed right to him.  Sometimes David had to point out the impracticality of that and try to talk Bryan around, but sometimes, he just let go and went with it.

So, stifling a cough, David nodded and murmured, “Souds great, Bry.”

Bryan cleared his throat a little.  “So what about the football?  Did you wadda-”

“Id a bit,” David told him.  “Later.  Right dow, I’be exactly where I wadt to be.”

[PetalPunk]

Again Loved this story! David and Bryan forever! I loved this story because David and I have similar body language when it comes to being sick, we're not as dramatic as Bryan. I loved this story and I hope you continue to write. New Normal stuff would be lovely, but I'd probably read anything by you!