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charisstomaPart 1 if you've not read it yet.
http://charisstoma.livejournal.com/524480.html?thread=3315904#t3315904
When Jack met Huw – Part Two:
Jack woke to a pounding, over-stuffed-with-wet-cotton feeling in his head, and lungs that felt like grated cheese. Which wasn’t even taking into account the aching joints, the red hot pokers stabbing through the cotton behind his eyes, or the distinct suspicion he’d died and gone to hell, he was so damned hot.
He felt movement beside him, the sound of water dripping into a bowl, and then the burning haze basting his skin was countered slightly by a cool, damp cloth being smoothed onto his forehead.
Someone was looking after him.
“Wha -?” He managed to rasp, his throat too sore and his breathing too laboured to produce a full sentence.
“Shhhh,” a deep voice soothed, as a second cloth glided gently over his skin, leaving blessed coolness in its wake.
He swallowed painfully and tried again. “Where?”
“S’okay. Tha be in my bed.” The voice – and the body attached to it – moved away briefly. More splashing of water – the cloth being dropped back into the bowl? – then the mattress dipped as a heavy weight settled beside him.
Oh. Okay. That made sense. He guessed. Maybe. Or not. “Uhhh . . . why?”
A soft velvet chuckle. “Hush, tha be ill. Go back to sleep. I’ll care for thee.”
Mmmm . . . that sounded nice.
Too tired and too pained to question further, Jack let his body settle more deeply into the pillowy mattress beneath him. The body next to him shifted slightly, getting comfortable and pulling a warm, cosy quilt over them both. Reassured by the other’s presence, Jack sunk immediately back into sleep.
http://charisstoma.livejournal.com/524480.html?thread=3315904#t3315904
When Jack met Huw – Part Two:
Jack woke to a pounding, over-stuffed-with-wet-cotton feeling in his head, and lungs that felt like grated cheese. Which wasn’t even taking into account the aching joints, the red hot pokers stabbing through the cotton behind his eyes, or the distinct suspicion he’d died and gone to hell, he was so damned hot.
He felt movement beside him, the sound of water dripping into a bowl, and then the burning haze basting his skin was countered slightly by a cool, damp cloth being smoothed onto his forehead.
Someone was looking after him.
“Wha -?” He managed to rasp, his throat too sore and his breathing too laboured to produce a full sentence.
“Shhhh,” a deep voice soothed, as a second cloth glided gently over his skin, leaving blessed coolness in its wake.
He swallowed painfully and tried again. “Where?”
“S’okay. Tha be in my bed.” The voice – and the body attached to it – moved away briefly. More splashing of water – the cloth being dropped back into the bowl? – then the mattress dipped as a heavy weight settled beside him.
Oh. Okay. That made sense. He guessed. Maybe. Or not. “Uhhh . . . why?”
A soft velvet chuckle. “Hush, tha be ill. Go back to sleep. I’ll care for thee.”
Mmmm . . . that sounded nice.
Too tired and too pained to question further, Jack let his body settle more deeply into the pillowy mattress beneath him. The body next to him shifted slightly, getting comfortable and pulling a warm, cosy quilt over them both. Reassured by the other’s presence, Jack sunk immediately back into sleep.
