5 Seconds of Summer Preferences 2.0

#22: He Wakes You Up Because He Is Sick

Luke:

His illness was something he had tried to shrug off like dust, claiming it wasn't as bad and it sounded and didn't stay true to the fact that it was only getting worse. With his tight schedule it was hard to cut into sessions without showing up, and stating that his deep raspy voice only made the sound effects on the records ten time more rad didn't sound that convincing on your behalf. He was sick, so sick that he could barely form a small smile without trying to dry off the sweat forming on his forehead from his fever. His nose was dripping, his throat was dry and in all order Luke wasn't feeling well even if he didn't want to realize it. His coughs were violent and made you flutter your eyes open to see his deep struggle, the mattress bouncing by each cough. "I'm sick. Sorry for waking you up." He breathed finally, feeling how his eyes were on you and you gave him a sympathetic smile. "It's fine." You mumbled, you had been half awake throughout the whole process so it wasn't like he was waking you up from a deep slumber. Patting your chest twice to get his reaction he looked over at you shortly before smiling softly. Settling his cheek in the middle of your breasts a deep sigh escaped his lips. The way you were running your hand through his hair seemed to take his mind of everything. So much that he didn't realize that he snoozed back off, a huge isle coming to your lips as you closed your eyes too.

Calum:

He had turned around a million times, trying to find the right position to rest on but in the end giving up and allowed a frustrated sign to escape his lips. His forehead was burning to the point where he couldn't blame the air condition despite it being his hope. He didn't want to be sick, he was rarely sick and now it was all over the place and he could barely sleep with a sheet over him. He had tried to be careful at first, not wanting to disturb your sleep but when turning around again to face you his eyes widened. "What is going on?" Your eyes were barely open by the tiredness but you were still fully awake. A guilty expression came to his face and he leaned his chin on his hand. "I think I have a fever." It wasn't supposed to come out as weak as it did but you heard it loud and clear and touched his forehead. It was burning so hard there wasn't any doubt. You stood up from the bed immediately even if he was protesting, deciding to find a small fan. He was about to say something, probably trying to protest again but when he felt the amazing feeling of the cold wind he stayed quiet and let out a deep sigh. He was so insanely tired and now it finally seemed to be over on the behalf of you. "I love you so fucking much you have no idea."

Michael:

Michael had tried to shrug it off at first, claiming that it wasn't more of an headache but the further he turned around for the fourth time the worse it got. He had been feeling awful lately, constantly needing your attention with a pounding headache and a burning throat. He hated being helpless likes this, always wanting to stand straight and be dependent. But the more he thought about the pain the worse it got, to the point where he couldn't take it anymore. "Y/N?" It came out weak and strangled, totally exposing his pain and he squeezed his eyes shut while burying his face into the pillow. It didn't take you more than a split second to open your eyes, seeing the miserable expression on his face. "Would you mind getting me some aspirin?" You didn't even need to look at the time to see what it was before you opened your drawer where you had saved the pills you knew he would later claim to need. A huge tired smile plastered on his face when seeing the pill pack, sitting up straight in the bed and grabbed the water bottle from his nightstand. He didn't hesitate to drown all the liquid along with the pill, a satisfied smile embracing his face. "Goodnight babe." He groaned lightly before his face had direction towards your chest, resting his cheek in between and closed his eyes tiredly hoping that he would be feeling better sooner than later.

Ashton:

The nausea seemed faint, but still enough to make him notice. He couldn't tell if it was a part of his dream or if it was in real life but its realistic features were enough for him to flutter his eyes open. The darkness was still clouding around him, his eyes blinking a few times but that was when he felt it. But with the lack of reaction from his deep sleep from before he did the most logical thing to do and grabbed the bucket from the floor. It had been standing there for days in support of his illness but he hadn't seen the point of it standing there until now. He felt embarrassed, he didn't want to show this side of him to anyone but getting the feeling of your hand rubbing up and down his back was probably the best feeling ever. His throat was burning and he felt that everything was miserable but by the feeling of yours presence was just what he secretly needed. You didn't even have to say anything, you knew he was guilty over waking you up but you'd rather prefer that than having him trying to take care of himself. It wasn't much you could do but just being there, leaning your cheek against his sweaty bare back, sometimes pressing a soft kiss and rubbing your hand up and down seemed to be enough for him. He didn't need anything else but you to know that everything was gonna get better.