Greta Van Fleet // Oneshots

Sunshine // Josh Kiszka

Warnings: none; another fluffy piece for our favorite bundle of sunshine~~

Thank you to a lovely anon for this very cute request ~ I don't think I ever need to tell y'all that Josh fluff makes me weak, but I'll continue to say it. I also realize I already have a fic titled for him, but Josh embodies the sun in its entirety so I guess I can't really be mad at myself for this. We're all sending so much love to him & the boys right now! I hope they feel it.

—

It was weird for Josh to not show up to class. You kept glancing to the door, waiting for him to bounce in, all smiles and sunshine, but the moment never came. It felt lonely and weird without him sitting next to you, without sneakily passing little notes back and forth. He also hadn't texted you to let you know he wouldn't be in class, which made you worried, so you pulled out your phone, holding it under the desk, and typed out a text to him:

Hey sunshine, are you okay? You're missing a video day!

It didn't take long for him to type back: Sorry Y/N, I'm not doing too hot today :(

Oh no, what's wrong?

Sick, hopefully just a cold, but I feel so achey, I didn't think I'd be able to make it.

I get out in a couple hours, can I bring you anything?

That one took him longer to reply to but he finally did: Well, I am out of orange juice...

You got it sunshine, I'll see you in a bit <3

After your classes ended you did you due diligence at the grocery store, picking up more orange juice, soup, saltines, Vick's Vapor Rub (just in case), throat lozenges, ibuprofen and a box of raspberry popsicles. You didn't know what Josh already had on hand but you wanted to arrive to him fully prepared.

The door was unlocked and Josh was on the couch, snoring gently with one arm hanging over the side, the orange, brown and green knit blanket over him bunched and tangled haphazardly around his legs and waist. He stirred a little at the sounds of you walking in and the crinkling paper bag, then propped himself up a little on the arm of the couch, reaching one hand up to rub his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Josh," you said quietly, cradling the bag in your arms. "You can keep sleeping."

He inhaled a deep breath and rubbed his eyes for another second. "It's okay, I'm up," he said, voice a little more gravely than usual, then gave you a little smile, a sincere one despite how flushed and tired he looked. "You're so sweet to come over. I owe you."

You sat down on the end of the couch, placing his feet in your lap and adjusting the blanket over them. "No, it's no problem. I really missed you in class today." You reached out and laid the back of your hand over his forehead. "You're really burning up."

"I don't have a fever, I checked," Josh said, reaching across to the coffee table, looking at the thermometer sitting there. "But yeah, I don't feel great." He took his hand back suddenly, coughing into the crook of his arm.

You rummaged through the bag for the Vick's. "I got this in case you didn't have it," you said and, when he coughed again, you moved in closer and eased the blanket down from his waist. "Do you want me to put it on for you?"

He nodded, looking a little sheepish, his eyes a little red and wet. You two had been close for a long time and you knew Josh tended to get a little embarrassed when he was down and out–not that he was opposed to help, but he always said how bad he felt about it, even when you would remind him you liked trying to help him feel better.

You opened the plastic container and scooped some of the cool petroleum onto your fingers, then gingerly lifted Josh's shirt at the hem and slid your hand carefully up, gently spreading it over his chest. He sighed a little then stifled another cough, clearing his throat. He exhaled softly and leaned back, seeming to start to relax as you spread the last of the Vick's over him.

"I'm gonna wash my hands," you told him, standing up and grabbing the bag. "I got orange juice–want some?"

Josh nodded. "Please."

"Want a popsicle? I got the raspberry," you said, taking the box out. "I couldn't remember

if you liked cherry or raspberry more."

He laughed a little, hoarsely, smiling up at you. "You got it right, Y/N."

You tore open the box and handed one to him, thankfully not too melty, though you could see the dark, berry-red liquid clinging to the slightly transparent white plastic wrapper. He took it and tore it open and popped it in his mouth.

"Thanks," Josh said, smiling a little again, already a stain on his lips.

You smiled back and headed into the kitchen. There was an empty bowl and spoon sitting in the sink, the empty carton of orange juice Josh had mentioned earlier also sitting discarded on the counter; you grabbed it and threw it in the trash, then washed the bowl and spoon. Anything you could do to make his life a little easier.

The popsicles went in the freezer; the soup went in the cupboard, though you'd probably ask Josh if he wanted it later, and at least you knew he'd eaten something before you got there; the orange juice went into the fridge after you opened it and poured him a glass, pairing that with two ibuprofen cradled in your hand.

"Here, sunshine," you said to him when you returned, handing him the orange juice, then setting the ibuprofen on top of a coaster on the coffee table.

"Thanks," he said, the berry stain on his lips even darker, a little bit on his chin, and you giggled quietly to yourself. "What did I miss in class?"

"We watched an anime," you told him, laughing a little more. "You missed such an interesting day."

"An anime?" Josh repeated, managing a mucus-choked laugh himself. "Really?"

"Yeah, it was, uh–it was interesting," you said, settling back on the couch, putting his feet back in your lap. "You would've appreciated the animation."

"Did Jim give his usual narration?"

You laughed loudly, lightly slapping his shin. "Yes! He paused it like, every two minutes."

Josh laughed too, sounding a little less congested, though he reached to the coffee table to get a tissue. "Sorry," he said, blowing his nose. "I'm so gross today."

You pouted a little and stroked his leg. "No, not gross, Joshua," you insisted. "Just a little under the weather. I hope you feel better soon."

"Yeah, me too," he agreed, setting the popsicle stick with the used tissue and taking the ibuprofen in his hand. "I'll be in class on Wednesday though, sick or not."

"You should rest," you told him, smoothing down the blanket over his legs, then leaning over to do the same over his waist. "Jim will probably be relieved of your own commentary."

Josh laughed at that and nestled himself against the pillow behind him. "Probably."

"You wanna take another nap?" you asked, watching him as he sipped more orange juice. Gross was not the descriptor for him, even while sick–with his flushed cheeks, the sheen on his skin and his glossy eyes, he still looked adorable. You could remember all the times Josh cared for you when you were sick and you weren't sure you looked quite that endearing, but he'd done it anyway, bringing you juice and tea, playing with your hair as you dozed off against his shoulder.

"I might fall asleep again if we watch a movie," he told you. "Anything you want, Y/N."

You hummed to yourself. "You need something funny. Don't you think?"

He smiled. "I think so."

You got up, resting his legs back on the couch, and leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Let me take a look."

"Don't kiss me, Y/N!" Josh warned, suddenly more awake than ever, giggling and swatting at you. "You'll get sick too."

You waved him off with your hand. "No, I'll be fine," you assured him. "Besides, if I do, I know you'll take care of me, too."