Mostly Angst Lams One-Shots

Sick-Alex Edition

TW: Panic attack

The dark of the November night filled many a room through the city of New York, but Alex's office was not one of them. The light of his computer and of the small lamp brightened his office, and the many quiet sounds of Alex working (the tapping of computer keys, the chugging of coffee, the scribbling of a pen) harmonized into a crescendo, an anthem of the all-nighters, night owls, and other late-night workers of the world.

Alex had gotten caught in the rain coming home from work, and he lost several pages of notes to an inconvenient stone, a poorly timed trip over said stone, a bothersome puddle, and a touch of bad luck. Now a tired, frustrated, and cold Alex was up at 1:23 am rewriting his notes. In his focus, he didn't hear the office door opening, nor did he notice a curly-haired, freckled man walking into the room.

"Alex," he said, causing his boyfriend to jump in his seat.

"John Laurens, you scared the shit out of me," he said.

"Sorry babe, but what are you doing up so late?"

Alex pulled the blanket surrounding him tighter. "I had to re-write these notes I ruined. Tried working the old-fashioned way. Backfired completely," He said.

"Alex, come to bed, please?"

"Later love, I have to finish."

"You can finish in the morning, plus I don't want you getting sick."

"I'll be fine, John. Don't worry."

"I'm your boyfriend, worrying about you is my job, also you're cold, otherwise you wouldn't have that blanket, so you're likely already sick, and being tired is just going to make things worse."

"John-"

"Alexander, please."

He relented, saving his work, crawling into bed, and falling asleep before John could even kiss him goodnight.

The phone alarm woke Alex with a start the next morning. In an instant, throbbing pain seared through his head, and a cough burned his throat.

"Fuck, John was right," he whispered to himself. He could already feel the anxiety brewing in his stomach, or maybe he was just gonna puke. Either way, he laid back down and grabbed his boyfriend's hand to ground himself. He began hacking again, the noise waking John up.

"I told you you'd be sick," John said with a groggy voice. Alex flipped him off in response.

"This wouldn't happen if you didn't stay up working half the night."

"Hey, it's the start of winter, and we both know how I get sick with ease this time of year." Alex had a nasty habit of always getting sick during the winter months, which he attributed to being born in the Caribbean and thus not used to true winter weather, along with it being the trade-off for being barely affected by New York summers. While his friends and coworkers drowned in their sweat, Alex felt next to nothing.

"So in the Winter you should be more cautious about your health, not less," John said, exasperated by his boyfriend's antics. "You stay here and rest while I get you some breakfast and cold medicine."

"Can you call George for me as well?"

"Sure I can," John said. He placed a soft kiss on his forehead before leaving the bedroom.

"First things first, call in sick," he said to himself. He picked up the phone and dialled Washington's number, which rang for only a minute before George picked up.

"Good Morning, this is Washington speaking,"

"Hey, Mr. Wash- I mean George," Washington had asked John many times not to be so formal with him.