Pairing: Bradley/Colin (Merlin RPF)
Word count: 539
Genre: h/c, fluff
Beta: nu_breed ♥
Disclaimer: The characters herein are based on real people (actors), but the events are entirely fictitious. No libel intended. For entertainment purposes only.
Summary: Colin returns home to a sick Bradley after attending the event at Warwick Castle.
Bradley wakes to a distant rattling of keys and his hair flattened to his forehead in a sweaty mess.
He groans into the pillow and flops over onto his back gracelessly. His arm ends up dangling over the edge of the bed but he can't be bothered to lift it. He hasn't felt this rotten in years.
"That you, Cols?" he calls, voice raspy from disuse and sickness.
"Sorry no, I'm a stranger come to rob you of your most precious possessions."
Bradley smiles faintly and listens to Colin drop his keys into the bowl by the door and kick his shoes into their designated corner, pictures Colin warring with himself for just a second before giving in and straightening their shoes until they're standing in a neat line. Bradley watches the doorway of their small bedroom until Colin appears, hair looking just a bit more wind-blown than it had when he'd left that morning.
"Oh," Colin says. "You look like shite."
Bradley makes a valiant effort to lift his arm before giving up.
"I'm too weak to throw a pillow at you," he complains miserably.
"I'm serious," Colin says. "You look worse."
"I threw up," Bradley whines. "Twice."
"Poor love." Colin doesn't mind indulging him. Bradley likes that about him. Colin sits on the side of the bed and takes Bradley's hand, promptly frowning his disapproval. "You're cold."
Bradley fists the sheets pooling around his waist protectively and holds still while Colin feels his forehead. "I was hot."
"You don't have a fever." Colin ignores his protesting grunt and pulls the covers back up to Bradley's chin. "Quit sulking, you have to sweat this out."
"Charming." Colin brushes Bradley's wet hair from his forehead. "I brought chicken soup." He must look as queasy as he feels at the mention of food because Colin is quick to add, "Later, then."
Bradley watches Colin shimmy out of his jeans. "How did it go?"
"Badly." Colin waves off his look of concern and folds his jeans over the back of a chair. "I'll tell you later." Colin drops a soft kiss to Bradley's chapped lips. "Move over, yeah?"
Bradley heaves himself over onto his side before Colin even has a chance to pull back the covers. Colin huffs a laugh and slides in, flattening himself to Bradley's clammy back.
"You'll catch my sick," Bradley cautions but pulls Colin's arm around himself, holding Colin's hand against his heart. Heat spreads out across his chest when Colin splays his fingers wide to feel it beat against his palm.
"Not before you're well enough to take care of me."
Bradley’s eyelids grow heavier with every passing moment but he fights to stay awake just a little longer. "Hm, sounds fair," he sighs.
"I should feel guilty for liking you like this," Colin murmurs.
The joke earns Bradley a toothy nip on the shoulder.
"Abuse of a sick person!" he cries.
Colin laughs and Bradley feels a million times better just for that.
Colin tucks his chin into the curve of Bradley's shoulder. "Quit messing about and rest."