Mistakes We Knew We Were Making
Chapter 7: Fever Dreams
Being back home in Greenwich is strange but beautiful. Two hours from your Brooklyn neighborhood and it feels like a different world, a different time even. The worst part is that people on the street know you, whether you like it or not, and you have to be accommodating and approachable, always. Your family is well-known in town, your father, a prominent lawyer himself, your mother, a former showjumper turned homemaker who has been active in the community all her life, the most charitable woman you’ve ever known.
One could say you were a spoiled child given the wealth of your family but your parents had taught you that self-worth, confidence, values and morals, had nothing to do with your economic status. If you wanted something, you had to earn it, proof that you deserved it first, it wasn’t just handed to you—You wanted to take up horseback riding? Well, you had to get up every morning at 6am for months to clean out stables first to show that you were serious about it. Even during your summer holidays.
Your parents had supported you financially, yes but you were taught to never take it for granted. Although you had domestic help around the house, they were to be treated with respect, as part of the family, not your personal servants. You were to assist them with chores around the house and garden, run errands with them and your mom, and your older brother had to do the same. You joined your parents for volunteer work in your free time, you learned early to part with toys and clothes to donate them to children who were less fortunate. It was just how things were done in your family. Material things never meant that much to you, and apart from a few family heirlooms, you don’t own anything really expensive, even though your mom insists you should go shopping for a few designer suits and dresses for your job. It’s the least exciting thing you can think of.
Your brother Levi is the only one in your family who knows about Dominick. The two of you have no secrets, and even if you did, he is too damn nosey. He thinks Dom is very dreamy and incredibly handsome and you’re stupid for not getting serious with him. And you gently remind him that he’s never had a serious boyfriend in his life so he shouldn’t really be giving you advice. And he argues that all the good men are straight, apparently, referring to Dominick. You have to give him that. Your brother being gay was never a big deal in your family. Your parents knew from a very young age and embraced it, and you had always been proud of him, supported him in whichever way you could. Against bullies at school, narrow-minded folks in town, assholes who lived in the dark ages. You had gotten into physical fights over it in junior high. Luckily, things had started to calm down by the time you were in high school, and it helped that your mom and dad made it clear to everyone that if people messed with their kid, they would ruin their lives. And they meant it.
You spend the days with your family doing all your favorite things: eating seafood, bitching about your conservative neighbors, going for long horseback rides with your mom, and discussing your dad’s biggest cases with him until way past midnight with a bottle of Whiskey. And of course, more talks about Dominick with your brother. Which makes you miss him, even though it’s only been a few days but you resist the urge to call or text. It’s just two more, come on, you tell yourself. Don’t be such a Hedonist. What did Shakespear write in All’s Well That Ends Well? My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives. Oh yes, you finally figured it out. You’re a Shakespearian comedy.
Maybe it’s all the stress of the last few weeks or just the beginning of the annual summer flu you seem to catch every year for some reason but by the end of your last day with your family you don’t feel so good. Your parents beg you to stay but you hate how they fuss and you need to get back to the city, ill or not. As you sit on the train back to New York you are shivering, even though it’s 90F outside, and by the time you get back to your apartment you definitely have a fever. Fuck.
With the bags thrown down in the hallway, you strip off your clothes, just to dress in your warmest pair of pajamas, and head straight for your bed where you wrap the covers around yourself tightly, still shaking. You have a banging headache and your throat feels scratchy but you really can’t be bothered to get up again to make yourself some tea or find some medicine to combat it. Your entire body is hurting. For now, all you want to do is sleep. Yet before you can even close your eyes, your phone rings. It’s Dominick.
‘What?’ you answer, realizing you’re already losing your voice.
‘Damn, you okay?’ he replies, car’s honking in the background. ‘I’m on my way.’
Oh no, you had forgotten. The day before you had texted him your ETA back in the city and you had agreed he would come over. That was before you started to feel like fucking death.
‘Shit, Dom. I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m like…dying, I think. Pretty sure I got the flu or something. I’ll call you when I feel better, okay? Sorry, babe.’ You really are, you were looking forward to seeing him.
‘Fuck, it’s okay. Feel better, yeah? Let me know if you need anything.’ he says and you think it’s sweet how concerned he sounds.
All you can manage is a ‘hmm’ before you hang up and pull the blanket over your head again. In a way you wish he was here so you could snuggle up to him, his warm body. His arms around you would make you feel better, and provide some comfort. But you don’t have this kind of relationship, you take care of each other in other ways but not like this.
You bury your face into the pillow and sigh, if either of you would want to change it, you could. All you want out of this relationship is what you have and that’s it. And you finally drift off to sleep, curled up into a ball.
The doorbell wakes you. You curse and whine and look at the clock; you’ve only been asleep for 45 minutes. Can’t a sick girl get some rest? For a moment you consider ignoring it before it rings again and you decide you can’t. Everything feels like slow-motion as you unwrap the blanket from yourself and get up, making your way to your door where you can already hear a soft knocking. Ugh, maybe it’s your old lady neighbor looking for her cat again, that beast always escapes and you have let her in on occasion to feed her some canned tuna. You open the door a crack to peek out and it’s Dominick, smiling at you. Oh, what the fuck? Seriously? What part of ‘I’m dying’ did he not understand? You really aren’t in the mood for his shenanigans right now.
‘What are you doing here?!’ you ask, voice even raspier than before and it hurts to speak but he ignores you, pushing his way past you into your apartment.
‘I don’t want to hear any protesting or whining, just do what I say and let me take care of you, okay?’ he says and you notice he’s carrying two huge bags straight into your kitchen.
What is happening?
You follow him, confused as to what in the world is going on right now. He puts the bags down on your kitchen island and starts unpacking. Containers full of what looks and smells like chicken soup. Bottles of Pedialyte and ginger ale. Four boxes of tissues. Ibuprofen. Cough syrup. Nasal spray. Decongestants. Disinfectant. A warm water bottle. Biscuits. Honey. Fresh fruit. At least four different kinds of tea. All your favorite snacks. The latest editions of your favorite magazines. There’s so much stuff you can’t even register all of it. It truly looks like he went and robbed a CVS. You look at him in awe, in fact, you’re aware that you’re pretty much staring at him in shock.
‘You forgot to get yourself one of those nurse outfits from the costume store. I’m sure you’d look pretty hot in one.’ you say, shaking your head. You have to make a joke about it, otherwise you might start crying.
‘Yeah well, they were all sold out but if I order one on Amazon it might be here by tomorrow.’ Dominick replies with a smile.
This can’t be real life, you think. This must be a fever dream. That’s right. You fell asleep wishing he was there and now you’re dreaming that he showed up in your kitchen ready to nurse you back to health like a superhero doctor hybrid of a perfect man that you never knew existed. He can’t really be here, doing this. Doing all this for you. Your mind is racing and you can feel yourself getting emotional but he gives you no time.
‘Right, sit down. You’re gonna eat some of this soup, take some medicine, and then back to bed with you. Have you checked your temperature?’ he feels your forehead. ‘Yeah, you definitely have a fever. Here.’ He pours some of the soup into a bowl and grabs a spoon from your kitchen drawer.
The sight makes your stomach turn but you know you have to eat, and Nurse Dominick will make sure you have a few spoons full at least. So you sit there, absolutely astonished by this whole scene, trying to sip the soup while he is leaning against the counter watching you, with a worried look in his eyes, like he’s somehow responsible for you and your wellbeing. When he heard your voice on the phone, telling him you weren’t well, he instinctively acted, not even thinking. It was such a boyfriend thing to do and he wasn’t your boyfriend. Maybe it wasn’t appropriate, maybe it was blurring the lines but he didn’t care. The thought of you sick in bed all alone had been too much for him. Nonna Carisi had taught this boy well.
After making sure you’ve had enough to eat, drink, and had taken the meds, Dominick tucks you in and you’re surprised when he settles next to you with a book. It’s only then you notice his backpack in the corner of your bedroom.
‘You planned ahead, huh?’ you say, looking up at him.
‘Well, I have to make sure you get better. And work is slow but I brought my laptop just in case. I can stay for a couple of days.’
‘I’m gonna get you sick too.’ you cough into the blanket.
‘Ah, don’t worry. I hardly ever get sick. And if I do, you’ll feel better by then so you can take care of me. How about that?’ he reaches out to gently stroke your cheek and you welcome his touch.
‘Deal. But I’m gonna make sure I have that nurse outfit.’ you reply and he giggles.
‘I’m sure you will look a lot better in it than I would.’
It still feels crazy to you that he’s here. That he has gone above and beyond for you like this, is now by your side to make sure you have everything you need. You feel overwhelmed by what he’s doing for you, no man has ever cared for you like this and you’re not even together. Obviously you care for each other in a lot of different ways, it’s true, that you are important to each other, that you do mean a lot to each other. Even if it isn’t love. You share more than your bodies with one another. It’s more than just fucking. It’s just not enough.
‘Will you read to me until I fall asleep?’ you ask, and he agrees.
You love his voice. It’s so soothing. And you snuggle up to him and he reads from White Nights by Dostoyevsky, how perfectly ironic.
______________
The next day you feel even worse. The fever has taken a hold of you and you’re shaking like a leaf even though Dominick has gotten two more blankets out of your storage closet and wrapped you up in them, in addition to the warm water bottle he bought. He kept checking on you all through the night like a worried mother hen, making sure you had enough to drink and your temperature didn’t get too high. All you can do is apologize because you truly feel bad and he tells you to stop over and over again. And you sneeze for the hundredth time, exhausted, and he grabs a fresh box of tissues and clears away the mess of used ones you left on the nightstand and the floor. He must truly like you a lot.
‘I bet you don’t think I’m so sexy anymore.’ you croak from your nest of blankets and he laughs, kneeling down next to you.
‘Believe me, nothing can make me think you’re not sexy. Nothing. You’ll always be sexy.’ Dominick assures you, kissing your head.
‘You have a snot fetish I don’t know about?’
‘Maybe I do, who knows. I’m just glad you still have your wicked sense of humor, so I know I have nothing to worry about.’
He disappears into the kitchen and warms up some soup for you and you thank him a thousand times even though you only manage a few spoons before you grimace and he puts it away.
‘Just know I’m gonna take you to plenty of barbecues and feed you steaks and potatoes for weeks once you feel better.’ he warns but you’re already half asleep again.
The day goes by and you don’t know what time it is; you wake and fall back asleep, and wake and fall back asleep. Dominick is there, feeding you whatever it is you might need, handing you tissues and medicine, rubbing your back, cooing you like a restless infant. Even though you honestly feel like utter shit, you enjoy him babying you, in fact, you absolutely revel in it.
You curl up to him like a cat, your whole face pressed against his arm, holding on to it like he is your last lifeline. In that inbetween state of dreaming and fevering you’re not sure what you’re muttering to him but you’re sure it’s something that doesn’t make sense or makes all the sense. And he either takes it or leaves it. Perhaps it’s all the things you’ve always wanted to say to him but have kept unsaid until now, things even you have been unaware of. Or perhaps it’s simply the same excuses you have been repeating to yourself for months.
Either way, he doesn’t let go. He tightens his grip. He tells you it’s okay.
‘I promise, my sweet. I’ll make it better. I’ll make it all good.’ he whispers, and back to sleep you drift.
_____________
It takes you another day to feel a bit more normal again. Dominick never leaves your side. You find him in the kitchen making himself a cup of coffee as you get the next morning, finally free of the fever.
‘Well look at you.’ he smiles, apparently happy to see you made it out of bed.
‘No. I’m pretty sure no one wants to look at me, Dominick. Not even you should have to. I need a shower. A bath, actually.’ you say, sniffing yourself.
‘Yeah, might be necessary.’ he agrees with a smirk.
‘Just say that I stink.’
‘You don’t stink, you just…don’t smell as deliciously as you usually do.’ he shrugs and sips his coffee while you blush, feeling slightly embarrassed.
That’s your cue to walk away and draw a bath.
‘I would still eat you out!’ he calls after you and you roll your eyes.
‘You’re disgusting!’ you call back and hear him giggle.
And fifteen minutes later he’s sitting next to you as you soak in the hot water, watching you scrub away the sickness. He could have gone home by now but for some reason he‘s still here, making sure you really are alright. You thank him sincerely for taking care of you for the past few days and he says it‘s no big deal, acting all coy when he knows it‘s had an impact on you, on you both. The many unspoken words between you could fill their own dictionary, all hanging in the steamy air of that tiny bathroom. You‘re aware you will rewind the tape and it will be of no significance in the long run.
Because there is no long run.
You‘ve accepted the impermanence of it all by now. Yet you savor it when he runs the soapy washcloth over the skin of your back while humming some Johnny Cash song you don’t quite recognize, and you wish this was your daily routine—and then he washes your hair and you love how his fingers massage your scalp even though it’s something you never enjoyed when someone else had done it before. You feel like a new person as you climb out of the tub and he wraps you up in a warm towel before dragging you back to the bedroom, where a fresh and clean bed awaits you.
‘Can I…now?’ he asks and you’re confused for a second.
‘Can you now, what?’ you ask back and he pushes you down on the mattress, grabbing your legs and pulling you towards him as he kneels down at the edge of the bed in front of you.
‘Eat you out.’ he smirks, kissing the inside of your thigh and you shudder. ‘Unless…you’re not well enough yet.’
‘Oh, I’m well enough!’ you reply enthusiastically and he laughs, making you laugh too.
And it’s only when you feel his tongue on you that your laughter turns to moans, and you involuntarily flinch at the sensation. He wraps his arms around your thighs to hold you in place in a strong grip, burying his face in your cunt, murmuring ‘Hold still, my sweet.’ before flattening his tongue on you again. You can feel your arousal dripping out of you already, and he laps it up, his mouth trailing through your folds. Your hand wanders down, grabbing his hair, pressing his face tighter against you and you can feel him smile, proud to see you come unglued.
‘I promised to make it all better, didn’t I?’ Dominick breathes against you.
‘Yeah,baby, you did. You did.’ you breathe out.
He delves his tongue into you, seemingly worshiping your taste and all you can do is hold on to him, the bedsheets and let that feeling take over.
‘God, I love that pussy. So pretty, so tasty.’ he moans, spreading your legs a little more, his mouth so hungry on you.
‘It’s all yours, Dominick.’ you whisper, biting your lip as he looks up at you, his face wet with your juices, a feral look in his eyes.
He sinks two fingers into you, slowly fucking you while his tongue plays with your clit, sucking hard, then softly, making you gasp, then pant. It makes you giggle just how fucking greedy he is for you.
There you are, from a post-flu mess to his sexy vixen again within an hour. It’s that easy with him. And the noises he’s making, like he’s eating the most delicious meal of his life, makes your pleasure even more intense. His fingers curl inside you, exactly over that spot, and you whimper his name, your voice shaky.
‘I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you. Fuck, someone will have to drag me away.’ Dominick admits, kissing and licking you as your whole body begins to tremble at his words and actions.
You don’t know what to say in response to that. In all honesty, you know it’s true. You’ve had the same thought so many times. Hearing him say it makes it so much more real. So much more painful. But it’s always such a fine line between pain and pleasure. Frantically, you push him away from you and sit up to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. You grab his erect cock through his sweatpants, stroking him, begging him for more and he pulls off his shirt, getting rid of the rest of his clothes in record time.
The sex is tender, and it feels like he’s still taking care of you in a way and you let him.
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thank you so much for proofreading this chapter @eltrujillo <3
