Omg. First off you are a brilliant writer!!! An secondly could ask you for a Rami fluff /smut piece where Rami is sick and convinced that no medicine will cure him like the reader can. An after some resistance reader caves. Please and thank you.
First off, I’m the worst! What kind of person leaves for this long and comes back to give you the most poorly written fic? Secondly, of course my dear. I’m rusty in the ways of fic (you’d be surprised how a few months of not writing can affect a person) but I’m giving it my best shot.
Word Count:1,997
The sound of sniffling and muffled coughing has been enough to drive you up the wall for the past couple of days but with Rami it’s almost impossible to stay upset. It’s not his fault that he’s sick, Rami almost never gets sick. He’s always the one suggesting you pick up his vitamin regimen so that your immune system grows as strong as his. But you being you, politely declined it over a soda and chips.
It wasn’t entirely hit or miss with his suggestions though. You’d taken up hiking, even though it makes you feel like death has come to greet you at the end of the trail. You’ve added more indie artists into your colorful and Plain Jane top 40s collection. You’ve even learned some Arabic words to keep up with him and his family. Vitamins and healthier foods just weren’t something you wanted to take up yet.
Usually, you were the one that was sick in bed and dreading the week that would follow. Rami took care of you and made sure you were in tip-top shape before you could finish the box of Kleenex he bought. It was a rare occasion that he got sick but when he did, it was always the worst one yet.
So you ran to the store to stock up on vitamins, medicine, snacks, and rented a couple movies to keep him entertained. He was moping and miserable by the time you got back, giving your TV a blank stare and shielding his mouth with the germ-infested blanket he refused to let you wash. You let him have a bit more quiet time and work on some soup that you know he’ll refuse to eat but it’s all a part of the job. Well, it’s not really a job, but a task you wish you could avoid all-together.
He’s upright and alert by the time you make it into your room, flipping through the channels and eyeing up the tray filled with foods and medicine to help his sickly body. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps his eyes drifting from the moving pictures on the screen and back over to you and the tray. Rami isn’t going to make this easy. Nothing with sick Rami is ever easy but you prayed today would be different for your sake. It’s not.
“I’ve got your soup and some vitamins, cough syrup, and cookies for the aftertaste.” You murmur as you find a spot next to him and take a cookie for yourself.
Rami immediately shifts away a few inches and shakes his head like a small child. You manage to refrain from rolling your eyes and pinning him down against the mattress to shove everything down his throat. Instead, you move closer to him and rest your head against his shoulder before taking the remote from his hand and flipping through your own selection of DVR leftovers. You can hold out a lot longer than he thinks you can.
“I’m not sick.” Rami finally manages through a raspy and tired voice. He sniffles almost immediately after and glares at the way you smirk in return. “I’m just tired. It’s all psychosomatic.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly why you’ve got a fever and runny nose. Totally doesn’t have to do with the fact that you’ve been coughing for days and refusing medicine.” You counter.
“I’m not sick.” He repeats before sighing. “Even if I was, I don’t need medicine. That won’t cure me.”
“Oh? What will?”
“You.”
He’s smiling now, grinning really, it’s unapologetic and wide. You can’t help but roll your eyes this time. How someone so sickly could manage to try and charm his way into your pants is beyond your comprehension but he is your better half. You love him unconditionally. This is one of the many reasons why.
“That’s really cute, Rami. Really.” You sigh as you flip through more titles you’ve already seen. “You really know how to get me right out of my clothes. I’m practically tripping over myself to get naked. Can’t you tell?”
“Hey, sarcasm only furthers a cold, okay? Be nice to me. I’m sick.” Rami sniffles and closes his eyes before taking the soup from your hands and smiling at it’s warmth. One-Zero, you.
“Ha! So you admit it! You are sick!” Your hand smacks the blanket resting against his thigh as you wiggle around beside him. It’s an attempt at a victory dance without standing. It makes him groan but smile all together.
“Okay, I’m sick. But I stand firmly behind you being the only medicine I need to make me feel better.”
“Well maybe if you finish your soup, take your vitamins, and drink your medicine, I’ll consider rewarding you with some of my own personal supply of Vitamin Me.” You tease before settling on a show and turning to return the blinding grin.
Rami wastes no time on your vague promise. He bites through pipping hot liquid and swallows his vitamins harshly. The cough syrup is always harder to get him through, he hates the taste and shudders as he swallows but smiles gratefully when you offer him a cookie. He’s your person, through and through. Unbelievably cute through the red nose and medicated eyes. Rami takes it with no hesitation and munches in silence while you rest your head against his shoulder and focus on the show ahead.
He ‘s comfortable and completely off the subject of, well, you by the time your lipspress themselves to his throat to press a simple kiss. He doesn’t make a moveof his own, just rests his hand around your waist when you envelope yourselfaround him and work on a bruise against his collarbone. You know Rami’senjoying himself despite the silence he’s offering. All it ever takes to knowis the way his breathing hitches and his hold against you aches and burns whenit tightens. Your teeth nip at his fervent skin and ease the sting with a swipe of your tongue when he hisses but he stays still and patient.
When kissing his skin isn’t enough, you climb onto his lap and obscure his vision of whatever it is he’s trying to pretend to like. You meet each other halfway for a harsh kiss. Teeth clash against teeth while Rami’s trembling hands land against your hips and slide down to your ass for a healthy squeeze. You rock your hips against his and focus on the friction building between layers of clothes. He tastes like chocolate chip cookies and Nyquil but you don’t mind.
“You’re going to get sick.” Rami murmurs against your jaw as he trails kisses. You shrug. It doesn’t really matter. You can afford to take a few sick days off at work and catch up on sleep. It would be worth it.
Your nails scratch against his exposed skin as your lips latch against his again and the speed of your hips picks up shamelessly. It’s always good to tease him like this, like the possibility of him actually fucking you is there but hiding between fine lines. You’re in total control until he’s ready to take over or you break and fuck him senseless. His fingers tug against your jeans to pull them down and your hand greedily pulls at his sweats and boxers to stroke him openly. Nothing is coordinated or cute like they make it seem in movies but this is you and Rami—nothing about your relationship as ever been cute or coordinated. That’s why it works.
You both grow restless and tired halfway though undressing and throw the idea away when you both loose enough of the bottom half to make it work. Your hips lift themselves to help him slide in and an almost comical sigh of relief leaves the both of you. Maybe it’s the Vick’s vapor rub or something in those cookies that got the both of you this heated in a matter of minutes or maybe it’s the build up of not touching each other to keep from spreading germs, but this contact was very much longed for and needed.
The way your head rolls back and your back arches into his thrusts can’t be helped. Every stroke is slow and deep. It makes you hold onto his shoulders like your life depends on it and his grip around your waist nearly take your breathe away. Your hips have a mind of their own, bouncing and rocking carelessly when his movements aren’t enough but he always takes control and keeps you still to tease you and edge you along.
Rami moves to flip you both over and throws your legs over his shoulders without much warning. You laugh and shriek at being tossed around but quickly forget about the giggling and focus on the moans orchestrating the both of you. His lips press themselves against your legs to pepper your skin with kisses while he drives himself into you with so much force, you think you just might break the bed this time. Who cares? You can both afford to buy another one. Truth be told, it’s time for a new one. Another good excuse to get the lights fucked right out of you.
You scratch down his back and gasp when a hand wraps itself around your throat to squeeze and cut your breathing short. If this is what sickly sex is all about, you’re more than willing to put up with it for a few more days. Your legs fall to wrap themselves around his waist and pull him in for deeper strokes and his lips land on yours to kiss you like he’ll never kiss anyone again. It’s desperate and far from perfect but still skilled and breathtaking. Rami’s hold against your throat never leaves or lessens, if anything it grows stronger and forces you to save your breath to moan and call out his name.
His freehand buries itself behind your neck to pull at your roots and give is teeth more room to bite. Your damn near speaking another language when you come around him and gasp in one final breath. Your body feels like it’s been shocked, there’s electricity running straight through your veins and out of the fingertips that caress his lean body as he pulls out to finish against his hand and your belly. His wristwork was shaky and almost begging for it but you can’t help yourself. You push his hand off and replace it with yours to finish the job.
You move to kneel on the bed and press your lips onto his gently. There’s nothing remotely tough or harsh about it, but it still earns you a moan and a whimper. His hips buckle and he comes with a groan as you kiss his throat slowly and smile against his flushed skin. It’s a hot and sticky mess against your hand but you don’t mind. You never mind. Not the colds, not the dry humor, and definitely not the mess he occasionally brings into your life.
“I love you.” Rami whispers breathlessly against the shell of your ear. “I’ll be sure to make you come like that again when you’re sick next week.”
“I can’t wait.” You smile and move to clean up the mess.
It’s quiet for the rest of the night. A few sniffles here, some scattered naps there. But you’re both happy and maybe, just maybe, Rami was right. Maybe all he needed was you. You brush off the idea with a smile that makes your cheeks ache before you fall asleep with his arms wrapped around you. Sure enough, a scratchy throat and stuffy nose are waiting to great you in the morning. You don’t complain, just take the bowl of soup and vitamins he offers with a happy sigh and a slightly sneeze.
“I told you, you were gonna get sick.” Rami shakes his head as he settles besides you.
“Totally worth it.” You smirk around your spoon.