fissionmailed | And PLOT COMMENCES. Terrible plot. Horrible, whiny plot.

[There is a Liquid wandering the halls. Usually, Liquids are full of zest. This one... not so much. Odd, really. He's been feeling drained all day. His throat is scratchy and it's difficult to breathe properly. Worse, even his reflexes seem to be dulled! His head aches and his body is shaking with the cold. Why is he suddenly feeling the cold? He doesn't know! He's pale as death. He makes a quick call-]

Ocelooooot, where are you? I need you right now.

[-and hangs up. He can't help the rare whininess in his (particularly shaken and scratchy) voice. Liquid has never been sick a day in his life, excluding some of his imprisonment - and the less said about that the better. He leans against the wall, looking miserable, and sinks down to sit on the floor.]

This is a really rotten week... first the gray hair and now this...

DOES THE UNIVERSE JUST HATE ME LATELY?!

[His words break down into a fit of coughing and he buries his face in his hand for a moment as if that will hide his identity.]

(Long story short, Liquid is sick. It's not serious, even though he looks like hell, but prepare for whiny bitch syndrome if you approach him! He's not used to feeling this rotten.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Liquid shot him an anguished look, then rolled over to flop on the bed.]

Cruel.

[Ocelot hopped onto the bed, climbing over him so he was hovering above Liquid.]

I've heard people call me a sadist...

...

You've "heard" it, huh? [He rolls his eyes and stares up at him, blinking.] Everyone who's ever heard your name knows that.

[He lightly kissed the side of Liquid's face, then half-rolled to the side so he could loop his arms around him and snuggle into his side.]

You should have expected that from me by now. I'm not a nice man.

You can say that again. [He frowned and nuzzled into him.] I'm dying, and you're being a jerk.

You're not dying. You're just sick. You'll be better in a few days.

Nothing like that is going to kill you.

[He smiled at the nuzzling, tightening his hold around Liquid.]

It feels like it is.

[Liquid's voice is pitiful. Sad Liquid is sad. And cuddling.]

I saw you jump from a platform high enough to kill people, and then climb right back up. You've survived years of torture and countless bullets. Do you see why I'm doubting that a little illness is going to put you down?

Besides, your symptoms don't look bad. I didn't see you vomit blood over there.

This is far more painful than any of that.

[Stubborn? Yes. Melodramatic? Yes.]

Just hold me. If I live through the night I'll agree with you.

You sure you don't want me to do anything else for you? Heat up some soup, get you some water... help you shower.......

...water sounds good.

[Not rising to it, Ocelot.]

I don't think I can eat.

[Ocelot quickly pries himself loose before Liquid can change his mind, and gets a glass of filtered ice-water for him. He returns, climbing back into the bed and keeping his hand on the glass as he holds it close to Liquid's mouth.]

Poor Liquid... [He kisses his temple.] This affliction of mere mortals won't last forever.

[He sips it gratefully, a little faster than he should. The coldness of the water feels good.]

Mn. I'm glad of that. Thank you, Adam.

I hope you'll do the same for me if you get me sick.

[He scoots back to the head of the bed and pulls on Liquid until he's resting on Ocelot's lap again.]

Feel free to sleep more. I'm not going anywhere else.

[Liquid nods and cuddles up against him.]

'course I would... 's what you do for people you love, isn't it?

[His eyes closed almost of their own accord as he relaxed.]

[Ocelot goes quiet at that rare word, his lips pressed in a light smile. His fingers stroke though his hair, focusing on the act as he listens to Liquid's sleepy breathing.]

And PLOT COMMENCES. Terrible plot. Horrible, whiny plot.

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