₊˚｡❆ logan takes care of you while youre sick ❆｡˚₊
summary: john logan's day starts out like any other but when you stay radio silent in the morning, he starts to worry. little did he know you just had a little tango with a cough and allergies.
tags: you are sick, it's nothing too serious or contagious tho, just some allergies and a "lil" cough, this def isnt me projecting....., some good ol fluff
a/n: is this incredibly self indulgent? yes, yes it is. did i write this purely bc ive been sick for the past week and need a beautiful, strong man to take care of me? mayyybe...... enjoy >: )
The day started out like any other.
5 AM, wake up and get ready for the day.
After that, morning training with the boys. Garrett would be the first one out, Dean immediately starts pestering everyone, Tuck just working out.
7 AM, morning training ends. John slowly makes his way back inside, wiping the sweat off himself. He jumps in the shower again, taking his time to treat and take care of himself. He uses all the right moisturizers and lotions, sending you a good morning text of him in some fancy face mask thingy you gave him the other day.
8 AM, he's back in his room, working on school work.
He's texted you about five times now, his dark blue eyes trailing to his phone nearly every second.
8:30 AM, he still hasn't heard from you.
"Logan, morning!" Hannah calls to him from her seat at the kitchen island next to where Garrett is chopping up some garlic for Tucker.
"Hey Hannah." He mumbles, walking over to grab some milk from the fridge.
"Hey man, you alright?" Garrett asks as he moves onto chopping some green onions.
John just nods his head, "Yeah, yeah"he trails.
"Uh you sure? Because you sure don't seem like it." Hannah pats his back.
"Yeah…. it's just that…. I haven't…" He rubs his neck, unsure if he really wants to divulge the special routine you and him have been sharing. It's always wake up, text, and then mornings together at the off campus house. Hence why the usually ever-so-cool John Logan was internally— though he'd never say it out loud —freaking out.
"Your girlfriend hasn't texted you huh?" Dean— because of course Dean 'perfect moment to walk in' Di Laurentis—walks in, gliding to the fridge.
"Uh yeah yea-" Insert even more awkward neck rubbing.
"Doesn't she usually come in around now?" Tuck— finally —adds.
"Yeah but, it's nothing… right?"
A chorus of "yeahs" ring out as everyone begins to help Tucker with brunch. And everything is back to schedule, mostly. Dean is back to his shenanigans, teasing Garrett's culinary skills and pushing Tuckers buttons all while doing karaoke with Wellsy.
Yet a certain girl stays on his mind as he and the boys start to eat.
With every cough and sniffle to prevent snot from dripping down your face, you felt the life be sucked out of your brain.
Copious amounts of tissues and medicine bottle lay scattered in your room. Your blankets were piled high, one on top of another as you fight to keep yourself warm. Yet, somehow, chills still ran through your body as you blow your nose for the millionth time that hour.
You should've known that your sore throat would evolve into a horribly mean cough, should've treated it there and then.
But of course, your stubbornness and inability to listen to John Logans classical motherly nagging right after you two had a little spat earlier that day won over. So, instead of listening to the soon-to-be-pro hockey player, you opted into cutting your day together short by heading home instead of following him back to the boys' house.
Were you being a little dramatic? Yes. Were you being unnecessarily petty? Also yes. Did John know that your dramatic flair and pettiness didn't mean you didn't love him? Of course. But that didn't stop the feels from coming when he finally got home. Without you.
As soon as you got home, you felt so bad about leaving him, you immediately called him. You promised you'd come by the house the next day to make it up.
Obviously, you had broken that promise.
Phone discarded outside on your kitchen counter, you curled yourself even deeper into your blankets. You wonder if John had texted or maybe called.
You let out a grunt, stretching your legs and arms trying to get yourself ready to potentially get up and grab your phone. That is until you let out a horrible cough that made your head woozy, knocking even more vitality out of your bones.
Maybe it'd be better to just close your eyes and take a little nap.
"Please be alright, please be alright." John 'usually cool' Logan muttered under his breath.
As soon as brunch was done, plates were put away, and the kitchen was cleaned, John threw on a tank top, joggers, and threw on the first pair of shoes he stumbled into. He sprinted out the door, quickly shouting some bullshit about a run.
The entire run to your place, he worried.
You two had talked the night before so you probably weren't ignoring him meaning the chances you were in trouble or worse were significantly higher. Not to mention you promised him that you'd text and come over in the morning.
So he ran like all of hell was chasing him, nipping at his heels. He pushed his legs to move faster and faster, feet pounding against the concrete so hard and fast that it felt like nothing at all. He felt like he was flying.
Finally, your apartment building came into view, the dark blue and grey building a cold sort of relief to him. He quickly enters in your pin— his birthday —and runs to the stairs.
Up and up he runs, calves starting to really work harder as he climbs to the third floor where you lived. As he finally approaches your door, his breath halts.
He raises his fist to the door, knocking lightly. He calls your name, feeling like a lost puppy scratching at his owners door.
He waits a second, his heart slowing as he presses his ear against your door trying to listen in for any indication you were inside. He then hears a loud thunk, like something or someone heavy falling onto the ground.
His heart rate spikes, hands starting to fumble the lock of your door. He uses the key fob you gave him, hauling the heavy metal door open.
Immediately, he is met with the smell of Vicks and Eucalyptus. Moving through your apartment, he calls your name, picking up the phone you left on the counter.
"-ohn?" Your meek voice calls, an attack of coughs and sneezes leave your body.
John's heart sinks to his stomach, body immediately heading to your bedroom.
"Hey, hey, I'm here now." He rushes to you, your body laying on the floor in a nest of comforters and blankets.
"H-He-" you start coughing, turning away your flushed red face from him.
John felt his heart break, quickly standing up to open the windows, blinds, and balcony doors to your apartment. He moved quickly and efficiently to hand you tissue after tissue to blow your nose.
"It's alright darling. I know you feel cold but I'm gonna need you to unfurl baby."
You pouted, nearly whimpering as John slowly took each of the blankets away from you. Your hands latched onto his forearms, hot tears falling from your eyes. You crashed into his arms, head falling into that perfect space in between his shoulder and neck.
"J-John, I'm s-so sorry."
He shook his head, his curls tickling your cheek. "Hey, don't worry about it baby. You did nothing wrong." His hand came up to your back, rubbing soothing circles and lines across your back.
"Are y-you ACHOOOO" you sneeze into your hands, snot getting all over your hands.
"Uh, I think let's put a hold on all the cuddles and get you cleaned up first."
You open your mouth to agree only for more lung emptying sneezes to attack your chest. John just chuckles, his strong arms wrapping around you to help you up.
He leads you to the bathroom where you immediately bend over your sink blowing your nose more while washing your hands. A wave of heat runs through your body, begging for you to splash the ice cold water across your flushed face.
"Do you wanna shower baby?"
You meekly nod your head, wincing. "Is it that bad?"
John just chuckles, "No, couldn't even tell baby. Just wanted to ask."
He helps you out of your damp clothes, shivers running through your body. Gathering your worn clothes and the large pile of blankets, he sorts everything in your numerous laundry hampers— you liked having everything already sorted so you can just dump one at a time into your machine.
"Babe!" You tried to yell only to voice crack into a coughing fit.
John shot straight into the bathroom, new towels and comfy clothes in hand.
"What's up? You alright?"
You smile at the man. Through the steam filling the bathroom, he could see your curves through he glass door of the shower.
"Can you help me wash my hair?"
And who was John 'been far too influenced by Dean' Logan to refuse?
Sitting down on the fresh sheets that your boyfriend changed your sweat infused ones with, he used a small towel to dry your hair. His hands rubbed your hair, not too much that your head would start to sway side to side and cause your head to pound.
"Yeah? Something on your mind beautiful?"
You turn towards him, now sure that your sickness was just another bout of your chronic dry cough coupled with allergies— which both were very much not contagious.
"Thank you." You pat his cheek, hand moving down to his neck, rubbing softly.
"Of course darling," he moved your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your palm, "I was so worried about you, you know? Called and texted you so many times."
"Ugh, I totally left my phone on the island yesterday." You groaned, shaking your damp head.
"Yeah, you did. But, it's okay. I'm just glad that since I came over, I was able to help you."
You meet his eyes, smiling. "You're too good for me, you know that right?"
"No idea what you're talking about."
He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You smiled even wider, cough drop breath be damned.
"By the way, it sounded like you were gonna ask me a question earlier. You know, before we went to the bathroom."
Your eyes widened, "Oh! That!" You look up, as if to ponder what you were thinking. "Was just gonna ask if you were dead ass drawing hockey plays on my back."
Now it was John 'not usually one to be surprised' Logan's eyes turn to widen.
You chuckle— thank goodness for inhalers —lightly shoving the man sitting in front of you. "Damn right I recognized that. I'm loyal Briar U Hawks fan who just so happens to have sat in on a certain captaining duo's strategy meeting."
John nuzzles his face into your neck, his own damp hair teasing your cheek. "Damn, you got me there."
"Of course I've got you. I love you, baby blue."
"Oh shut up, my eyes aren't even that blue. They're green on a bad day."
"You keep tellin yourself that champ."
He presses a kiss to your jaw, "I love you too."
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