Timothée Chalamet One Shots

fever

Tonight was the long awaited and well deserved date night you and Timothée had been planning for the past week. He was going to a few meetings in the day while you went to get your hair and nails done for your rooftop restaurant and bar experience. It was all the two of you were talking about twenty-four seven, basically counting the hours until Friday rolled around.

Then Friday morning came and you woke up feeling the worst you've felt in a while. Timothée was already dressed for his day and rummaging around the drawers for socks and sifting through his closet for the perfect jacket to top off his outfit. You could barely sit up to get a better view so you closed your eyes again, hoping a few extra hours of sleep would cure the sickness.

"I'm gonna get going," Timothée whispered, massaging your back. "See you tonight?"

You nodded, smiling at the image of your sweet boyfriend through your half-open sleepy eyes. "See you tonight."

"Love you, angel."

"Love you, too."

He pulled the comforter up to your chin before kissing your forehead and leaving for the day. You drifted back off into sleep, hoping you felt good enough for your twelve o'clock nail appointment.

Eleven a.m. rolled around and you hadn't gained any strength from sleep. By now, you could tell you had a fever but you didn't want to believe it. You forced yourself out of bed for some Tylenol and a shower which seemed to help momentarily but you knew you weren't going to make it to date night. You couldn't help but feel even worse for ruining something the two of you were looking forward to for so long.

You cancelled your hair and nail appointments and almost called the restaurant to cancel reservations but you figured Timothée should know. You texted him first to ask if it was a good time to talk and he called you immediately, deeply concerned.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

The sound of his voice pushed you to the edge of a breakdown. You shook your head and sat on the toilet seat in the bathroom, trying your hardest to keep it together. "Not really."

"Are you crying? What's going on?"

"I don't think I can go out tonight," you answered, letting your tears fall. "I'm sick."

"Oh, no, really?"

"I thought I could take medicine and sleep it off but I have a fever and everything," you explained. "I feel so bad."

"Don't feel bad, it's not your fault. We can always reschedule. Go lay down, baby, get some rest."

"Should I cancel the reservations?" you asked, your voice breaking.

"I'll do it, don't worry about it. I'll be home in a bit, we'll just stay in."

It's not like you had a choice. "Okay."

"Don't be upset, it'll be fine. Get in the bed, I'm serious. You better be passed the fuck out when I get home, understand?" he joked.

You dragged yourself back into bed at his command. "Fine."

"I'll see you soon." He blew a kiss into the phone before hanging up and you fell asleep not too long after the conversation ended.

The sound of the bedroom door opening and closing brought you out of your nap. Timothée smiled at you being asleep, humored that you actually followed his instructions. He waved a bouquet of roses and a bag full of takeout around.

"What is this?" you asked, scrambling to clean up tissues and cough drop wrappers.

"I brought the restaurant to you," he responded as he handed you the roses. "They agreed to a takeout order when I told them I was some Oscar nominated indie actor, you know?"

"You did not name drop your way into a favor!"

"I had to for you," he said, kissing your forehead. "It was embarrassing and I never wanna do it again but I would do it fifty more times if it would make you happy."

"You are so romantic."

"A little bit. Kiss?"

"I'm sick, remember?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Kiss?"

You playfully rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss to his lips anyway. He stole about three more before unpacking the food and settling into bed with you.

"I like this way better than being in a crowded restaurant anyway," he told you. "Just us, no distractions."

"Just sucks that we spent a lot of time planning and talking about this and then I magically come down with a fever," you said. "I wanted to get dressed up with you."

"I know and we will as soon as you're feeling 100%. But we can make a date out of anything, it doesn't have to be anything special. I just like being with you." Timothée nuzzled his head against your shoulder.

"Me too, Timmy."

"And we can have takeout date nights until you get better, yeah? I'll get ice cream next time."

"Can we have ice cream today?" You prepared your best puppy dog eyes but didn't even need them.

"What flavor?" Timothée asked. "Whipped cream, too?"

"And cherries and caramel and sprinkles."

He jumped out of bed, laced up his sneakers and grabbed his keys and wallet. "I'll be right back!" And he couldn't leave until you gave him a kiss goodbye.