Love Is Real (Maylor)

Drowse

ONE WEEK LATER

In all his years of living in this flat, Brian has woken up to a handful of different concerning things. Like Freddie in a panic because he stuck his hand in a jar and it got stuck or John's agonizing scream after he accidentally punched a window.

But when he woke up to harsh sniffles beside him in the bed, Brian sat up immediately to assess the situation.

He'd expected to see his love crying over something, perhaps a nightmare. That wasn't the case, however; when he looked at his love to find his beautiful face a sickly pale color, a slight rosy tint to his cheeks from what Brian assumed was a fever.

His assumptions were proven correct when he put the back of his hand to Rogers forehead and felt the burning heat spread across his own skin. His heart lurched when the younger mans face twisted as he leaned into the cooler touch with a sickly groan followed by a harsh sounding cough.

Roger had been much more tired than usual, which everyone summed up to the dreary weather. It made sense the poor lad was coming down with something.

"Rog? Love, wake up." Brian said softly, pushing his sweating hair out of his face.

"Mmm," Rogers eyes opened slightly, heavy from sleep. From the small slits his eyelids formed, Brian could see their bloodshot state.

"I'm going to get you some medicine, yeah?" Brian got up from the bed, frowning when he saw the smaller man start to shiver.

"I don't feel good." He rasped out, opening his eyes a bit wider to look at Brian.

"I know, baby, I know." Brian soothed, reaching over the bed to kiss his forehead. "You're burning up, love. I'm going to get the thermometer and some medicine. Then I'll make you some tea and soup?"

"Please." Roger croaked out, curling his body up in a ball.

Brian looked down at the shivering man and grabbed the fluffiest blanket that Freddie had to buy off the couch and draped it over him. He frowned down at the watery eyes that met his own.

"Here, let me check your temperature." Brian said, coming back into the room with a thermometer. The blond opened his mouth and closed it around the cool metal of the thermometer.

Brian waited patiently before the small stick beeped, signaling that it was done. He took it out and his face fell at the number. "40°C... (105°F) Rog, you need to go to the doctor." He said, worry lines creasing his face.

"M' okay..." he mumbled, grabbing Brian shirt and pulling him closer weakly. "M' cold, Bri."

Brian looked at him with a deep frown, gently pushing his hands away and trying not to let his heart shatter at the teary eyed pout he got in response.

"Freddie, can you come here for a moment?" Brian called, leaning his head out the doorway.

"In just a moment!" The singer called back. Wishing moments, the soft footsteps were heard down the hallway and Freddie appeared in the doorway. "Oh dear." He frowned.

"I've got to take him to the hospital, Fred. He's got a temperature of 40°." Brian explained.

"His bloody brains going to melt!" Freddie exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"Calm down. Can you help me get him to the car?" He frowned, pulling his hair in a nervous motion.

"I don't wanna go, Bri..." Roger whined, curling up tighter in the bed before being lifted up bridal style by the worried guitarist.