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“Rooster’s sick.”
Ice looked up from his paper and slid his readers down his nose. “Is it serious?”
Maverick fixed Ice with a stone cold glare and began to pace in front of the couch. “Well…he says it’s just the flu. But that can be serious, can’t it?”
Ice tipped his head to the side. “Perhaps for someone like me. Rooster is young and in good health. He’ll be fine,” he reassured.
“Are you even listening to me?” Maverick momentarily stopped his pacing to look at Ice before resuming. His hands shook out at his side while his mind raced. “They sent him home from Base. That’s something!”
“He’s a pilot, Mav. Any sickness means he can’t fly. It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s serious,” Ice told him patiently. Although, he did fold his paper and set it aside as he leaned forward with a tiny cough. “Did he tell you he needed anything?”
Maverick looked away bashfully. “He hasn’t said anything. I heard this all from Hangman.”
Ice didn’t comment on how it seemed a little odd for Hangman of all people to be the one that reached out about Rooster, but he wasn’t about to bring that up. It seemed that Maverick was working himself up enough without something else to think about.
“Then do you want to call him? Or go over? You worrying here isn’t going to help.”
“Maybe.”
Ice shifted with a thicker cough as he eyed the kitchen. “I can go with you. We can take that leftover soup the neighbor brought up. At least we’ll know that he ate.”
Before he could stand, Maverick rushed forward and rested a hand on his chest. “I can go. You should stay here.”
“Maverick—“
“You just said that the flu could be dangerous for you! You’re an idiot if you think I’m about to risk your health when I’m perfectly capable of looking after our kid,” Maverick interrupted with a defiant glint in his eyes.
Ice matched his look with one of his own. “I’m going to forgive you for calling me an idiot because you’re worried right now.”
Maverick’s gaze immediately softened. He left out a hefty sigh through his nose and leaned down to kiss Ice’s jaw lightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just, I’d feel better if you rested here so I didn’t have two sick pilots on my hands.”
“Former pilot,” Ice corrected dryly.
“Once a pilot, always a pilot. I don’t care if you’re currently in a jet or not.” Maverick sighed as he pressed his forehead to Ice’s, feeling his husband’s chest expand with heavy breaths. They had taken that for granted for so long and now it no longer was a given. Maverick wasn’t about to do anything to jeopardize that. “Please wait here for me and I’ll text you updates. I got this.”
Ice knew better than to argue once Maverick had made up his mind. He lifted his head for a better angle for Maverick to kiss him. Maverick deepened the kiss momentarily before drawing back, though he couldn’t stop from casting one more loving look at his husband before darting into the kitchen to grab the bowl of soup Ice had mentioned. He also couldn’t stop himself from raiding the medicine cabinet. Anything that he thought Rooster could possibly need was placed in a bad. Everything he took he could replace or bring back if need be, but he wanted to be prepared.
Once Maverick had his bag filled, he hurried to grab a few more things from his room before heading back to the kitchen. With the soup tucked under one arm, he looked around the corner to see Ice had resumed reading his paper, coughing lightly in a fist as he leaned back in his recliner.
“I love you. Be back later,” Maverick called, fearing that his voice would catch if he said anything more. He hated leaving Ice for any period of time, even if it was to help Rooster. He feared if he wavered much longer he would split from the feel of being tugged in two directions. He knew what Ice would say if he lingered any longer and he pushed his way out the door with the keys to Ice’s car in his pocket.
Driving on his bike with all he needed to carry would be nearly impossible. Besides, Ice had requested he be a little more careful about when he decided to ride it and at night was one of those times Maverick had promised he would try to give up. This could at least be a start.
“I’m coming, Rooster,” Maverick began as he opened the garage door and prepared for the short drive over.
By the time Maverick arrived, it had begun to rain. He hurried to grab his supplies and lock the car door before rushing across the sidewalk up to Rooster’s front door. He gave a few short knocks, huddled under the small awning as the storm increased.
It took longer than normal for the door to open, and once it did, Maverick was tasked with seeing a very stunned Rooster in front of him. His godson’s hair was tussled, face flushed, nose red. He appeared just as surprised to see Maverick as Maverick was by his appearance. Neither of them spoke, merely stood in a state of shock for a couple moments.
“Mav-rick,” Rooster began with a catch in his voice. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here,” Maverick repeated. “I’m coming to check on you. Now are you going to invite me in or do you want me to catch my death out here as well?”
Rooster seemed to snap himself out of his stupor as he hurried to step aside, elbow lifted over his face as he hacked. “M’not sure I’d come in here,” Rooster offered lamely as Maverick slid past him. “Might catch your death in here too.”
“I have an awesome immune system, contrary to the people I share company with.”
Rooster’s head snapped up in alarm as he closed the door tightly behind him. “Is it Ice? Did he relapse? Is he sick right now?”
Maverick set his items down in the kitchen before doubling back. He reached out and rubbed Rooster’s shoulders as the young man shuddered with each panicked breath. “Look at me,” he commanded, waiting patiently until Rooster lifted his face to gaze up at him. “Ice is fine. He’s resting at home, but he’s not sick. You think he’s going to let cancer beat his ass?”
Rooster gave a tiny shake of his head, though he hardly seemed reassured by it. Now that Maverick was so close to him, he could feel the fever that Rooster was sporting, and hear the catch in his lungs when he tried to breathe. Whatever Rooster had, must have been brewing for sometime. Maverick felt shame wash over him that he hadn’t been able to spot it when he saw Rooster almost every day.
“Mav?”
Maverick shook his head to clear it and motioned to the couch. “Come and sit down and I’ll heat you up some soup.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Maverick blinked his eyes in surprise. “You’re always hungry. Hell, Ice and I used to joke that even the hungriest men in the Navy had nothing on you.”
“M’just not hungry,” Rooster repeated with a shrug as he slumped back down on the couch. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here just for me. I’m fine.”
“Fine? That’s not what I heard from Hangman. They sent you home, Bradley. That means there is obviously something wrong.” Maverick felt his voice begin to rise and was quick to control it. Ice had gotten on him one too many times about how he tended to yell when he was frightened. “I worry about you, Baby Goose.”
Rooster swallowed hard as he swiped his wrist under his nose. “I’m a grown man, Mav. You don’t have to rush over every time you hear I have a cold.”
“Colds don’t usually bring fevers with them. I’d say you have something more than a cold.”
“Still not something that you have to be alarmed about.” Rooster gave a sudden twitch as he was forced to cough in his elbow, mucus crackling in his throat. Tears sprung to his eyes as he struggled to compose himself while bracing himself against the couch as his body spasmed with each thick cough.
Maverick froze as the sound reminded him of Ice, of when his husband would cough so hard he nearly passed out. It took a few moments for him to snap himself out of it as he came to sit beside Rooster as he began to pound on his back, praying that it loosened up whatever gunk was giving him trouble. He watched Rooster’s face contort in discomfort, eyes and nose streaming as he trembled.
Just when Maverick was certain it would never let up, Rooster finally took in a breath without immediately coughing afterwards. His eyes were round as if not expecting the fit to take so much out of him, and was unable to voice that discomfort to Maverick.
“I brought meds for that,” Maverick announced with warmth in his eyes when he looked at his godson. “You sit tight and I’ll bring some soup too. You need to eat!”
Before Rooster could try and protest, Maverick was on his feet and slipped into the kitchen. There he found an array of glassware and a few plates. If he had time, he would clean up just so that Rooster didn’t have to. Maybe he would even be able to prep some simple meals that Rooster could simply grab when he needed to to keep up his strength.
Maverick turned to the soup he brought and ladled it into a bowl before popping it into the microwave. Next he rummaged through his bag for different medication and settled on NyQuil and a decongestant. Ever since Ice’s diagnosis, it had been drilled into him that coughing could be a good thing to help dislodge the gunk that settled in the lungs. He didn’t want to suppress it with Rooster if he could help it, unless it drastically hindered the younger man’s attempts at sleeping.
When he returned back to the living room with the meds, a bottle of water, and the soup, he saw Rooster hunched over the side of the couch, eyelashes fluttering as his breath grew uneven. Maverick waited patiently as he tried not to let his amusement show.
“Itshsh’SHr’Shoo! Hshsh’Shsh’Shoo!” Rooster blinked hard as he reached for a few tissues from a nearly empty box and buried his face into them. “Hrhshs’Shsh’Shoo! Hrsh’Shsh’Shoo!”
“Bless you,” Maverick broke in as he drew closer as Rooster blew his nose. “Those sounded awful.”
Rooster lifted his head and shrugged. “M’fine.”
Maverick didn’t press matters as he set the soup on the coffee table before setting out the meds. “Okay, we’ll try NyQuil first with a decongestant and if we add more later we can. I’m not a fan of cough suppressants, but I bought it just in case. Oh, and something for nausea if that’s a problem later. The fever we may need to—“
“Dad,” Rooster interrupted as he waved a hand in front of Maverick’s face. “I didn’t even know you could talk that fast. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Maverick struggled not to show his embarrassment as he made a show of rolling his eyes. “You don’t need to. That’s why I’m here.”
“I don’t need to be treated as a child. I can take care of myself.”
“Clearly, I would beg to differ.” Maverick reached out to grasp the bottle of NyQuil and the decongestant and tapped the pills onto his palm. He handed them over to Rooster along with the bottle of water. He didn’t hesitate to set them on his tongue and follow it with a generous swig of water, despite his grumbling earlier about them.
Rooster turned back to Maverick and opened his mouth and lifted his tongue so Maverick could see every area inside his mouth.
Maverick reached out and lightly swatted Rooster’s shoulder. “Don’t be a dick.”
“Too late.”
“Now that we have that taken care of, you need to eat.” Maverick grabbed the bowl and stirred the spoon, pleased at the warmth and smell that wafted from it. Rooster may not be able to smell it, but he hoped it would still be appetizing.
Rooster looked at the offered bowl, though when he finally took it, he showed no sighs of wanting to eat. “You didn’t make this, did you?”
“You think I can’t cook?”
A moment of silence passed as a knowing glance hardened on Rooster’s face.
“Okay, I didn’t make it. The neighbor did for Ice. You’re lucky that he doesn’t mind sharing,” Maverick joked fondly.
To Maverick’s surprise, a look of horror passed over Rooster’s face. Maverick wondered what he had said before the thought dawned on him.
“Roo, he’s fine. He’s fine.” Maverick tried to reach out to squeeze Rooster’s hands when his godson reared back as though Maverick had burned him. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re going to go back to him. I can’t have you catch what I have,” he sputtered as he delved into another coughing fit, this time he pulled his elbow so tight against his face that Maverick feared he may suffocate.
Maverick reached for the water bottle and unscrewed the lid before handing it over. Rooster managed a few sips between ragged coughs, and only when he was able to take in another breath without it spiraling him into another fit did Maverick even try to speak again.
“Bradley, I promise you don’t have to worry. Ice is going to be fine. Besides, that’s something for us to worry about, not you.” Maverick was unsure whether any of what he said sunk in, but he decided to keep going. “Let’s just worry about getting you feeling better. You can’t fly until you’re cleared.”
Rooster couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he took the soup closer to his middle. “I could always go to Savant. He’d clear me.”
“He absolutely would not!”
A timid smile shone on Rooster’s face as he plunged the spoon into the bowl and took a small sip. Maverick felt a flash of foolishness for falling into that trap. His concern had masked exactly how the two of them liked to bicker back and forth just like any father and son.
“I’d have a better chance having Ice sign off on me than Savant,” Rooster murmured between mouthfuls of soup. “I swear he’s gotten even tougher in his old age. He grounded me a couple months ago for an earache.”
“Inner and outer ear infection with a fever to boot,” Maverick corrected with a knowing look.
Rooster dropped his spoon in his bowl and shrugged. “M’okay, you got me there, I guess.”
“Speaking of ears, maybe I should check to make sure you’re not hiding anything else from me.” Maverick reached for his cellphone and turned on the flashlight. Rooster immediately pulled away and set his soup back down on the table, lips pressed in a tight line. “Rooster.”
“I’m not a child, Mav. I can take care of myself. I don’t need you worrying over me all the time.” Rooster went to stand, perhaps to storm off, when his head tipped back and his legs began to wobble. His arms flailed backwards to stop himself from crashing against the couch.
Quick as a flash, Maverick pulled Rooster back down into a sitting position before he could fall down. He saw a haze over Rooster’s eyes that took a few moments to blink away. The color completely drained from his face as he sniffed hard before rubbing at his nose furiously.
“I’m calling it. We’re camping out on the couch until the room stops spinning. Deal?”
Rooster swallowed hard. “Deal.”
Maverick was only partially relieved. If standing was too much for Rooster, he had to be feeling worse than he let on. He had been known to hide things, especially after his father died. The symptoms wouldn’t lie and Maverick was thankful to them only as they showed how Rooster really felt.
While Rooster struggled to maintain his bearings while he leaned back on the couch, Maverick used that time to rush around to grab everything he could to make Rooster more comfortable. He didn’t care what Rooster said or how old he became; it was always nice to have someone look after you. Maverick wouldn’t go so far as to say that he was a caretaker by nature, though he had learned a lot with raising Rooster and standing beside Ice through his treatments.
Maverick grabbed some pillows and blankets from Rooster’s room as well as the TV remote and another box of tissue he found in the bathroom. He had a feeling that the box he was currently using would be empty soon and he wanted to be prepared. He also snagged a small trashcan from the office and set it beside the couch just in case.
“Is there anything else you need,” Maverick questioned when he returned with one hand on his hip while the other picked up the hardly touched bowl of soup.
Rooster was about to answer before snapping forward with a wheezing breath. “Tshs’Shsh’Sho! Hrshs’Shs’Shoo! Hrsh’sHs’Shoo!” Rooster fumbled for the tissue box as he lifted a few tissues to his nose and scrubbed hard, frustration showing in every movement.
“A better immune system, got it.”
Rooster waved him off as he threw the tissues away. He was left still congested as he tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, breathing noisily through his mouth.
Maverick worked around him to set a pillow on the edge as well as the blankets. He switched on the TV, and after a little channel surfing, settled on some rerun of a basketball game. It wasn’t one of Rooster’s favorite sports, and he hoped that it would be enough to lull him into sleep.
“Why don’t you lay down,” Maverick coaxed as he fluffed up the pillow and reached out for Rooster’s shoulder.
Rooster looked like he wanted to argue, but tiredness won out. He pulled himself down while Maverick drew the blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders and back. There was still room for him to fish an arm out if need be, but Maverick hoped by the way his eyelids were drooping that he should be asleep in no time flat.
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” Maverick ran his fingers through Rooster’s short, sweaty hair. He could feel his heart swell with affection. No matter what Rooster said, he would always be Maverick’s kid, and his responsibility. He didn’t care if anyone told him he was being overprotective. He would always look after his kid no matter how old he got, and that would never change.