no one asked for it but im going to give it to you because this is the draft ive been actively working on and is the most developed. And if you knew how what this fic was about, i think you'd want to see it to so! From "you're pretty in peices" my loumand human au poisoning fic
Beads of water still clung to Louis skin and hair. He would be annoyed later that his hair routine was interrupted but that would have to be alright for now. What mattered in the moment was the dim exhaustion on his face. Armand ran the towel over his curls and wiped up the drips that ran rivers down his neck.
“How are you?” Louis’ voice was rubbed raw. Muscles jumping around his jaw, clearly clenching his teeth through pain or against the urge to turn out his stomach some more.
The consideration makes Armand’s heart skip with affection, “I should be asking you that. I'm doing alright.” He wipes at Louis’ forehead, he’s beginning to sweat, “How are you? Have you been feeling unwell all day?”
Louis' shakes his head, and seems to regret it immediately, “I was fine before. The nausea and cramping only started after dinner.”
“And you think it might have been the mushrooms?” Armand feigns confusion, checks his temperature with the back of his hand, as if he could possibly tell if he was running a fever that way. Louis makes an affirmative sound and sways into Armand’s touch like a moth to a flame. It’s an easy motion then, to stroke down high plane of his cheek, to graze his thumb over the beauty mark near his nose,“It only takes a single bad one, though. I’ll get rid of them all to be safe.”
Louis lets himself be maneuvered like a ragdoll as Armand finishes drying him off and dressing him for bed. Yielding in a way Armand doesn’t think he’s ever been privy to. No charming commentary or impatient hands taking over the tasks for themselves. He lets Armand pull back the covers and tuck him underneath like a favored stuffed animals. It’s only then, with Armand looking down at him does Louis break the spell. A low and exasperated groan, he slings an arm over his eyes in a pitiful display.
“Don't do that, it's okay,” Armand’s chest burns with an unbridled fondness. The sickness and pain makes Louis fragile. Armand has the powerful urge to hold his face between his hands, and he does just that, though forgoes the desire that follows to pinch the swell of Louis’ cheeks, “Let me take care of you. There's no need to be ashamed in front of me.”
He's so sweet looking, Armand can't help but lean over and kiss him. Louis’ mouth is made clumsy in his efforts to reciprocate. Armand only presses closer. Soft tongue along the off-kilter ridge of his bottom teeth, trace across the pre-molars. Bile sours the taste, and Armand catalogs it mentally next to every other sensory experience of being with Louis. Right between the slick softness of his inner cheek and the smell of his sweat.
