Grounded to the Sickbed
-x- 👻 -x-
From the moment he woke up Ryou just knew that he was going to hate that entire week. The telltale signs of a stuffy nose making it harder to breathe, the room feeling much warmer than usual, a distinct fatigue even though he’d just woken up were all the signs he needed. With a loud sneeze his head fell back against the pillow and he let out a deep groan. Yep, that was all she wrote.
Ryou Bakura had officially come down with something. There were few things in life the boy truly hated and being sick was one of them. He knew he’d have to get up at some point to bring his bedside trash bin closer and fetch a hoard of tissues for the inevitable bacterial onslaught to his sinus cavities but he wanted to lay there for just a few more minutes. It wasn’t long before he felt himself drifting off and abruptly shook himself awake sitting up straight as a prairie dog only to fall over again into the comforting embrace of his blankets and pillows.
He gave off another groan as he couldn’t will himself to get back up and start tending to his war on sickness preparations. This was only the first day.. it was going to be a very very long week.
______ The chill of an open fridge lingered as dark eyes perused its insides. Milk. Iced Tea. Lemonade-- everything except the familiar cans of beer the thief had come to expect. A murmur of disapproval followed an outstretched hand as he seized a carton, tilted it to his lips, then drained its life in a rapid succession of gulps. The empty container was tossed carelessly into the trash before wiping his mouth against the back of his hand, slamming the fridge door, then exiting the kitchen to haunt his host. Bakura had mental notes of an entire grocery list by the time he barged into the boy’s room. “Oi!” He announced his presence more irritably than usual, still craving the beer and red meat they didn’t have. “We’re out of milk. Go get some.” He crossed his arms against his chest with a huff, expecting the boy to at least be awake.
“Hey.” A brief pause before stepping closer, studying the vessel who inhabited his bed. The flushed cheeks and labored breathing were a dead give away. “Yadonushi..?” Another pause. Closer still. Until the heat of the boy’s fever was as captivating as the chill of the fridge. Bakura lifted a foot, then kicked the side of the mattress. “Get the hell out of bed, I’m hungry.”
