Damon (one-shot)

I - sick night (smut)

He kept his eyes on the screen, trying hard to focus on the chapter he was to finish two days ago . But then his nose started running, and it was getting harder and harder to keep going and think clearly.

He sat on the living room floor, surrounded by tissues, half-drunk glasses of water, papers and notebook with Bert sleeping next to him.

A cool hand slid around his forehead. He closed is eye and leaned into it.

"Go to bed."

"I will."

His voice dropped an octave. "Now,David"

Even feeling as he was, that tone had an effect he was so happy to have finally given himself permission to enjoy. "I will. I just need to finish this."

David heard him sigh, and walk away. A minute later, he was back.

"Open up."

He did, and a thermometer slid in. He kept on working. If he stopped, he wouldn't start again. He hadn't even noticed Simon had taken the thermometer out until he held it between him and the screen. He squinted at the tiny bars. "Is that accurate?"

"Yes." His voice warmed. "Unless you'd like me to take it in a more accurate way."

"Maybe later."

He bent down, took his hand, and tugged. "Go to bed. I'll make it worth your while."

He stayed where he was. "I'm going."

He kept hold of his hand, "How many time do you have to re-write that para"

"a few...."

"a few hundreds???"

Before he could reply, he tugged more insistently.

"I'm not letting go."

He smiled up at him. "Promise?"

Simon expression softened. "Promise." He squeezed his hand. "Now will you please let me take care of you?"

Let me take care of you - how long had it been since someone had said that to him? He swallowed the lump in his throat, nodded, and let him pull him up.

"Go and get in. I'll be there in a minute."

Getting pyjamas on and teeth brushed took a lot more effort than it should have, but at last he was able to turn back the covers and lie down on the cool, clean sheets that Simon Cowell had put on for him.

He turned the light off, stuffed some tissues up his nose, lay down to wait, and immediately fell asleep.

"David..." a voice said softly, as though it had been saying it a while before he heard.

He opened his eyes, making out his shape beside him in the dim light. Simon's hand rested lightly on his forehead, "Hey."

"Hey, yourself. I could hear your breathing from the living room. I've come to give you some chest rubs"

He turned the covers down. He felt as though he was in a dream as he began undoing David's pyjama buttons. Their eyes met as he exposed his chest. He reached for his arm, and held onto it.

"Si..." he whispered.

"Tell me," he said.

"I love you."

"I love you to, so much" he leaned down to kiss his forehead and smirked, "I love that you feel comfortable enough around me to let me see you like this."