Chapter Text
The room is quiet, shadowy. Things are calm enough, considering it's New York in the middle of a heat wave. There's a fan running, circulating cool air over their skin as Orange and Hook sleep peacefully, Orange having kicked the sheets off hours earlier. It's a couple of hours before daybreak when the heat finally breaks, some relief finally found as Hook stirs. He feels... bad. Not still recovering from concussion bad but kicked in the sinuses and barely able to breathe, maybe on the brink of getting a cold, bad. On top of that, he's shivering, the fan only making him feel worse.
Groaning softly, he rolls over and curls an arm around Orange, cuddling close to him. He finally starts to warm up, drifting back off shortly thereafter. It feels like only a short amount of time has passed when Orange jostles him, getting up.
"No," Hook groans, reaching out for him. "Come back..." Even moving that small amount makes him feel worse, muscles aching, breathing still rough as he fights through congestion.
Orange pauses and collects something from the foot of the bed, turning back to deposit Rocco in Hook's outstretched arms. "Cuddle with your puppy instead," he says, sounding both exasperated and groggy at the same time. He turns and leaves the room while Hook watches, his brows furrowing pensively.
"Oh," he mutters, somehow feeling even worse as he gently settles Rocco on the bed and rolls over, tucking himself up in the sheets. He sniffs miserably, staring at the wall, a dawning sense of realization creeping over him as he listens to Orange wander around other parts of the apartment, his eyes feeling wet and hot as more time goes by.
When Orange returns, he pauses in the doorway and frowns, finding Hook turned away from Rocco, the puppy fussing and lightly pawing at Hook's back. He walks up to the bed and puts a plate down on the dresser, resting a hand on Hook's shoulder. "Hey," he says softly. "Why are..." He stops talking, feeling deep shivers moving through Hook's body. "Hook." He rounds the bed, stopping to turn the fan off before continuing on his way. He's careful to make his way around Hook's hoodie and a couple of other things scattered on the floor next to his side of the bed, kneeling down until he's at eye level with him. "Hey."
Hook's flushed, and trembling, and Orange reaches out, gingerly brushing his fingers down his cheek, over his jaw. "Hey, what's wrong?"
He blinks balefully, eyes shifting towards Orange, then back to the window. He doesn't answer immediately, clearly struggling with himself, but eventually he manages, "I'm sick. I think."
"Is it your PCS?" Orange asks softly, brushing his fingers through Hook's hair.
"No," he mumbles. "'m congested and my throat sucks really bad right now." Something he'd noticed when he swallowed earlier, just to feel knives scraping down every time he tried. "I think... I'm getting a cold."
Orange's face softens. "Poor guy," he says, pausing to feel Hook's forehead. "Well, I don't think you're feverish," he murmurs. "So that's good at least." He rests his chin on the mattress and looks at Hook. "Maybe picked something up at the airport."
"Knowing my luck," he mumbles. "I'm sorry."
Orange blinks. "What are you sorry for?"
"Everything," he says. "Getting injured, now getting sick. Being too clingy when you just wanted to sleep." He sniffs and presses his face into the pillows. "I'm just a mess, no wonder you're tired of it all."
"Hey, what-? No, no," Orange rests his hand in Hook's hair and smooths it gently. "What are you talking about?"
"I was holding onto you, and you... you got up to leave, and were mad when I wanted you to stay," he says. "You told me to hold Rocco instead. And I just... I realized I've been expecting too much from you-"
"You haven't, though," Orange says, frowning. "I mean it, Hook. I'm sorry if I snapped at you, I was still half-asleep and I needed to go to the bathroom, that's all. It had nothing to do with you, I promise."
Hook closes his eyes for a minute before peeking up at him. "I'm so tired," he mumbles.
Orange sighs, eyes soft and sad. "I know you are," he says, pushing himself up and standing. "Here, I made some toast." He picks his way back around the bed and brings the plate over to the bed, laying down next to Hook. "C'mere, let's eat. It might help you feel better. Then you can go back to sleep."
Hook sighs and rolls over, scooping Rocco up as the puppy nudges at him again. "Hey, Rocco," he murmurs into the puppy's fur, nuzzling him. "Sorry I was ignoring you earlier. Not feeling great right now."
The puppy whines and rests his head on Hook's shoulder, fur tickling Hook's neck.
Orange wraps an arm around him and tucks him in close, holding out a piece of toast towards him until he takes a bite. "It's a little cool now, sorry."
"S'ok," he sighs, chewing on it. "Probably better this way, anyway. Easier to swallow."
"True," Orange says, biting into his own slice. "Do you want more, or just to go back to sleep?"
"Sleep, I think," Hook murmurs, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the pillows. "You probably have other things to do, it's ok, you don't need to stay."
Orange makes a face, struggling and failing to remember just how badly he'd responded to Hook earlier, before setting the plate aside and rolling over, wrapping his arm around Hook. "Nah, taking care of you is the only thing on my agenda right now," he says, pressing a kiss to Hook's forehead, lingering long enough to make sure his temperature is still steady.
"You sure?" Hook squints up at him, Rocco sprawling out over his chest and drifting back off.
"Yeah, I'm sure." Orange kisses him. "You get some more sleep, and if you need anything, I'll be right here."
Hook's lips twitch into a soft smile. "Alright," he says quietly, closing his eyes. "Love you."
"Love you too," Orange says quietly, settling back and staring up at the ceiling as Hook and Rocco sleep next to him. It hasn't been an easy few months for either of them, and he vows to do his best to be more patient in the future.