Oneshots and Other Things

Under the Weather

Thank you to @daphreak for the motivation to finish some (very old) drafts. It's not too angsty but I hope it cures the boredom :p

My bored self is happy to take requests as always :)

(*~*)

Dec takes care of Stephen

As soon as he'd seen Dec, Stephen had hoped he could avoid a repeat of his earlier conversation with Ant by pretending to look busy. The other man had been unimpressed enough with the pallor of his skin when they'd seen each other half an hour earlier and that was before everything had started to feel worse.

Now, the words on the cue card in his hand swam across his vision, their erratic swaying managing to make him feel even more sick, as if the world was spinning faster even as he stayed sat down. And unfortunately, Dec had never been one to give him some peace and quiet when he saw him on his own.

"Ant says you're ill," he accused immediately, sitting down with a false cheeriness next to Stephen. Probably trying to rile him up, Stephen guessed, deciding stubbornly not to rise to the bait.

"Good morning to you too," he said in return, hearing that he sounded bad and hoping pointlessly that Dec wouldn't hear it as well.

Miraculously, an announcement over the backstage sound system seemed to save him from an interrogation, even if it left him wincing in the process. Both of them were needed on opposite sides of the theatre, at last giving Stephen an excuse to stay away from Ant and Dec even if part of him would rather have tolerated their attention. That was how he knew he felt really bad, when he was willing to put up with their pestering just so he could let other people look after him.

"Lucky," Dec said under his breath, still seeming to be underestimating quite how bad Stephen felt. To be fair, it was a surprise to Stephen that he had made it this far whilst feeling so rough although this luck that Dec referred to seemed to be running out.

Feeling everything protest before he'd even moved, Stephen made to stand up and follow a definitely unamused Dec back to the noise and heat of the backstage area, wondering if his body could handle the long hours he still needed to survive before the day would finally end. Not to mention another full day of work the next day.

All pretence of being okay came quite literally crashing down as he took one step and found his legs rather more unreliable than he'd anticipated. He shut his eyes against the blur of movement, barely feeling himself sitting back down heavily but suddenly very aware of soft material against one side of his head. Dec's hands brushed his arm, his back, even his forehead, moving too quickly to be anything but blind panic.

"Woah, woah – Stevie! Can you tell me what's wrong?"

His voice still grated on Stephen's raw nerves and, finally giving up the game of pretending he was alright, it was all he could do to groan and take advantage of Dec's chest to block out some of the light as he ducked his head close. He moved blindly as Dec fussed over him, surprisingly saying nothing else and just trying to make the two of them more comfortable instead.

Stephen found himself still buried in the older man's jumper a minute later, Dec's hand cupped over his eyes as well for good measure. His fingers were cooling against his forehead, thumb sweeping absentmindedly over his skin.

"Why do you never ask for any help, silly?" Dec murmured eventually, his chin resting lightly on Stephen's head as he spoke as quietly as possible. "Now, you're gonna listen to me, alright? We're sitting here until you can get up without keeling over again and then we'll get you somewhere quiet where you can have a lie down."