Crush

Sleepover

Asher

"Hey, Oliver? Hey! Can you hear me?"

He was lying on his back on the bathroom floor, eyes closed, body completely still. I hadn't moved him after he'd collapsed. Instead, I'd slid off the side of the bathtub to kneel down beside him to check him over. He was still breathing. Good.

I gently ran my hand down his cheek, felt his soft skin. He felt hot to the touch. His cheeks were flushed. Was he coming down with something? Might explain why he collapsed. Could be a fever.

Reaching up to the sink, I turned on the cold water. Cupping my hand under the running water, I brought it over to Oliver. I held my hand over him, letting the water trickle down his face, along his nose, across his cheeks.

He stirred. Thank god.

"Hey, man. You good?" I ran my hand along his cheek again. It was wet but didn't feel any cooler.

His eyes fluttered, opened slightly. He frowned. Scrunched up his nose.

"What .... What's ... uh ..." He held his head as he looked through slitted eyes and tried to sit up.

"Woah! Think you better stay down there for a bit." I pushed his shoulder gently until he was lying back on the floor. He flung an arm over his eyes, shielding them from the harsh light in the bathroom, breathing heavy.

"What happened?" He mumbled.

I shrugged. "Not sure. One minute, you were looking after me. The next, I'm looking after you."

He chuckled. "I would suck at being a nurse."

"I knew I was in bad shape, but didn't think I looked so bad that you'd collapse." I was joking, but he whipped his arm away from his face to reveal wide eyes.

"No, it's not that .. it was .. uh," he stuttered.

I grinned at him. "Jokes, man."

He breathed out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes again.

We stayed like that for a while. Him lying on his back on the floor, me kneeling next to him, resting my hands on my knees. Both of us evening out our breathing. Both of us feeling rough.

Well, I wasn't as bad as I'd made out. Yeah, being knocked down by that big guy hadn't been fun, and it had hurt like a bitch at the time, but I'd taken worse out on the field before. I just needed to chill a bit.

But watching Oliver's expression when I got up from that tackle, seeing the sheer panic on his face, the concern shining in his eyes, even from far away ... that was a look I could get used to. He was worried about me. Me.

That made me feel ..... Happy.

Elated.

On top of the world.

And I just wanted to be near him after that. Beg for a little sympathy. Ask him to look after me.

Now, he was lying on the floor, sick and needing to be looked after himself.

I was such an ass.

Oliver slowly stretched his hands over his head. "I think I'm sick."

I chucked. "You don't say."

He laughed softly. "Don't think I'm gonna be able to drive you back home."

"Me, neither."

Oliver opened his eyes and looked at me. "How are you gonna get home?"

I shrugged. "Dunno."

He blew out a breath. "Think you can stand up?"

"Stand up? Sure. Stand up straight? Nope." I arched my back gently, feeling the tenderness in my muscles and the stiffness in my spine. "Think I could crawl, though."