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Ethan Collins was sick.
Xander wasn’t stupid, he could tell. The second he stepped into the kitchen that morning, he caught a glimpse of the ex-cop’s sorry-looking ass sitting at the table, staring vacantly into his instant coffee.
“The hell?” Xander said, grabbing his breakfast (Greek yoghurt, berries and flaxseed, a very balanced meal according to his mama). “Why do you look like you just crawled out of the grave?”
Ethan blinked very slowly. “Hm?”
Xander rolled his eyes. “Oh, my God… hey.” He walked over and tilted Ethan’s head back to stare into his beautiful stupid eyes, which he could then confirm were glassy and slightly glazed-over.
“Are you sick?”
“Mm, no.” Ethan feebly tried to push Xander’s hand away with all the strength of a malnourished kitten. “I don’t get sick.” He punctuated each word with a cough.
“Ooooh, very convincing.” Xander said sarcastically.
“I don’t.” Ethan insisted petulantly. “I’ve only ever been sick twice in my life.” He held up three fingers to emphasise his point, before realising his error and quickly putting the third back down. “Twice.”
“Well, unfortunately for you, this looks like it’s your third time.” Xander responded, utterly unsympathetic.
“No.” Ethan finally succeeded in swatting Xander’s hand away, and picking up his mug of coffee. His hand shook the entire time he brought it up to his lips.
“This is just sad, ex-cop.”
“Shhhh.” Ethan raised one trembling finger. “Why are you yelling?”
“I’m not yelling.” Xander said dryly. “You’re just sick.”
“I don’t get sick, Alex. ‘M fine.” Ethan’s words came out thickly.
“Uh huh.” Xander crossed his arms. “See, saying you’re fine doesn’t come across as very convincing when you add a ‘d’ at the end of it.”
“Shut up. I’m fine… d.”
“There we go.” Xander pried the cup of (definitely cold) coffee out of Ethan’s hands with approximately zero effort, despite Ethan’s feeble attempts to hold onto it. “You probably have the flu.”
“I do not.”
“Well, then!” Xander said brightly. “Why don’t I just call Maddie down to be in incredibly close proximity with you, then, since you’re obviously not sick.”
“I see what you’re doing here, you little asshole.” Ethan grumbled, but he reached out to grab Xander’s wrist once he opened his mouth. “Fine, okay? I’m sick. Just don’t call Madison down, I don’t want her to catch anything from me.”
Xander nodded, satisfied. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“It was, actually. I felt genuine, physical pain.”
“That might just be because you’re sick, asswipe.”
Ethan sighed, letting his head thump against the table dejectedly. “You should- you should prob’ly go.” He mumbled. “You could get sick, too.”
Xander shook his head. “Unlike you, I actually got vaccinated for the flu, so I’ll be just fine.”
“...Okay.”
“So, do you know what that means, ex-cop?”
“I assume you’re going to tell me.” Ethan muttered.
“It means that I’m going to nurse you back to health, so to speak.”
Ethan squinted up at him in a way that was probably intended to be a glare. “You will do no such thing.”
“I will.” Xander said smugly, spooning yoghurt into his mouth, leaning back against the counter.
“You won’t.”
“I will.”
“You will not.”
“We can do this back and forth for as long as you like, ex-cop. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to do it.”
Ethan finally managed to turn his squint into its intended glare. “No. Why are you so insistent on it, anyway?”
“I dunno, maybe because you insist on coddling me whenever I get my…” Xander trailed off uncomfortably, not wanting to say the word “period”, “...Monthly visitor.”
“Monthly visitor?” Ethan echoed, raising a dark eyebrow. “Alex, even if that wasn’t a completely weird way to refer to it as, it’s also inaccurate, because your monthly visitor, as you call it, isn’t actually monthly, it just comes whenever it feels like it.”
Xander gave him a dirty look, eating his yoghurt and flaxseed sulkily. “Man, shut up.”
“No, I’m serious. I genuinely think there is something gravely wrong with your uterus, and you need to get it checked out.”
“Stop talking about my uterus.” Xander hissed, his face heating up. “Would it kill you to be normal for once?”
“Your uterus is the only thing that isn’t normal.” Ethan responded dryly.
“My- my thing isn’t even that irregular!”
Ethan kindly didn’t comment on him using the word “thing” instead of “period”. “Didn’t you go a good thirteen months without your period in prison?”
Xander gawked at him. “How the fuck do you remember that, you weirdo.”
“We’ve already established that I have a good memory!”
“Oh, so you decided to utilise that by memorising my cycle?” Xander hissed.
“There is no cycle to memorise!” Ethan shot back, his hands gesturing wildly. Thankfully, he then broke into another fit of coughs, which was good, because Xander did not actually have a good comeback to that one.
Xander scoffed quietly, placing his bowl down on the counter so he could root around in the cupboard. “I probably have some flu medication from when Blake caught it a few months ago…”
“I don’t need it. You’re making this into an unnecessarily big deal.” Ethan muttered, looking a little defensive at the disdainful glance Xander throws in his direction at those words. “What?”
“You.” Xander hisses. “Are such. A fucking. Hypocrite, Ethan Collins. When you insist on butting your way into my shit,” he didn’t need to elaborate that this referred to both his drug problems and his… other one, “It’s all ‘oh, Alex, everybody needs to be looked after sometimes’.” He pitched his voice dramatically down into what he thought was a fantastic imitation of Ethan’s voice, although, judging from the way Ethan’s eyes narrowed, he seemed to disagree.
Xander continued. “But the second that you’re the one who needs help, it’s suddenly not a big deal. You little turd.”
Ethan cleared his throat for a solid fifteen seconds before responding. “First of all. My voice does not sound like that.”
Xander groaned. “Of course that’s the part you decide to address-”
“Second of all.” Ethan cut him off. “You’re right. I am a hypocrite. So what?”
Xander stood there and gawked at him for several moments before he managed to regain his voice again. “You little fucker. There is no way you just said that with no shame. I cannot believe people think you are a fair, honourable person.”
Ethan shrugged listlessly. “...Well, I never claimed to be a fair, honourable person.”
“You-” Xander sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just- get in bed.”
“No.”
“The fuck do you mean no?”
Ethan got unsteadily to his feet, and Xander prepared himself to catch him. “I mean… no. Nuh uh. Nada. Non. How do you say ‘no’ in Korean?”
Xander stared at him incredulously. Wow, being sick makes him a total weirdo, who would’ve thought. “아니?”
“Yeah, exactly. I’m not gonna try to pronounce that, ‘cause I will butcher it. But.. yeah.” Were Ethan’s last words before he (predictably) keeled over.
Xander caught him with an arm around the waist and a heavy sigh. “Fucking idiot.”
Ethan made a vague grunting/coughing sound in response. Xander scoffed. “For God’s sake, get a hold of yourself, ex-cop. I can’t hold your fat ass up forever.”
He didn’t drop Ethan, however, despite very much wanting to (he didn’t mind holding him that much, actually), and instead (very kindly), propped him up against the table.
Xander folded his arms across his chest, and gave Ethan his best threatening glare. Which was, he was aware, a very good one. He’d made weaker men piss themselves in fear before.
Unfortunately for him, Ethan Collins was no weaker man, and looked thoroughly unintimidated. “I don’t know what I did to earn that murderous stare, but okay.”
“Get the fuck in bed,” Xander hissed, “Or I will throw your sickly ass over my shoulder and carry you there myself. It won’t be very hard. I am very strong and you’re like a twig.”
“What am I, a fatass or a twig?” Ethan mumbled.
Xander stared at him, irritated. “...Both. You… you’re a… fat twig.”
“A fat twig?” Ethan echoed, arching a dark eyebrow.
“...Yes.” Xander decided to just roll with it. “A fat twig.”
In the end, Ethan (with much reluctance) did go to bed, since Xander could and would carry through that threat.
Ethan soon lay buried under a mountain of blankets, looking absolutely adorable stupid. He glared sulkily up at Xander. “This is hardly necessary. I’m boiling hot. I’m going to melt.”
“Yeah, that’s what you think now. But without these, you’re only gonna get sicker.”
Ethan pouted. Cute. Xander placed a cool, damp washcloth on his forehead. He leaned into it with a quiet sigh, dark eyelashes fluttering slightly. Xander’s heart made a valiant attempt at beating out of his chest. He willed it to stop.
It didn’t.
Ugh. Whatever.
“Open wide.” Xander said, holding out a spoonful of flu medicine. Ethan shot him a look of disdain.
“Is this some sort of joke?”
“Of course not.” Xander smirked. “Now you know how it feels to be coddled against your will, ex-cop.”
“You evil bitch.” Ethan said, without much energy. “I am not allowing you to spoonfeed me medicine.”
“Why?” Xander kept his tone as sickly-sweet as possible, staring at Ethan with all the wide-eyed innocence he did not possess. “I’m just playing nurse.”
“If you’re going to play nurse, can I at least convince you to dress up in a sexy little nurse’s costume?” Ethan shot back, mirroring the same sweet-faced expression.
Xander’s eyes widened for real this time, feeling his face heat up without his consent. “You- ugh. Just… shut up.” He diverted his gaze. Good one, Xander.
Ethan snorted. “What, you can’t take what you give, baby blue?”
Xander was going to die. Genuinely. A horrifying, excruciating death, consisting of his head exploding from all the overheating it was doing. “I hope the flu finds a way to kill you.”
“How kind.”
“Just-” Xander shoved the spoonful of medicine in front of Ethan’s face. “Shut up and take it.”
Ethan complied, and Xander deeply regretted every decision that had led up to this moment, the whole spoonfeeding-Ethan-Collins idea not being so funny anymore. What was wrong with him? Why was this sickly-looking bastard getting him going by taking medicine? Was he ovulating or something? God, maybe Ethan was right, maybe he should get his cycle checked out by a professional.
…Nah.
Ethan settled back down into the pillows with a quiet, contented sigh, dark eyelashes gently closing. Xander couldn’t help but soften a little, maybe a tiny bit endeared. Not that he would ever admit it.
“You need anything else?” Xander asked quietly, re-adjusting the mountain of blankets… just because. No particular reason.
Ethan grunted. “Uhm. Not right now.” His eyes cracked open a little, a tiny sliver of gorgeous ocean blue. “...Thanks.”
Xander avoided eye contact. “No-” he cleared his throat. “No problemo.” He willed his cockiness to come back, and smirked. “Now you know how I feel when you insist on babying me.”
Ethan’s eyes fluttered shut again. “Mm, not really the same thing. You- you need it, y’know?”
Xander paused. Something inside him soured. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Hm?”
“I don’t need it, ex-cop.”
“Alex- what..?” Ethan mumbled sleepily. He was sick. Incoherent. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying. But that just made it worse, didn't it? Because that meant he really did think it, he just didn't say it out loud.
“I don’t- what do you think I need to be coddled?”
Ethan’s eyes opened again. He looked… confused. “What’re you talkin’ about…?”
“Nothing.” Xander took a deep breath. He was just being dramatic. He knew that. “Nothing. I just, uhm- nothing.”
“You sure?”
“Mhm.” Xander’s voice went uncomfortably squeaky when he lied. Only with Ethan Collins, somehow. He busied himself with folding up clothes on top of Ethan’s dresser.
“Alex.”
“Yeah?”
There was the sound of the rustling of blankets as Ethan turned over to face him. “You do know I’m not saying you’re like… a woman, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Obviously.” Xander muttered, doing an extremely poor job of folding the clothes. They were coming out more like crumpled balls of fabric. “I’m not some insecure teenager, ex-cop. I don’t get triggered that easily.”
“...Right.” Ethan frowned. Xander was suddenly more aware of the guy’s stubble than ever, and felt a wave of irritation so massive it almost knocked him over. It didn’t even make any sense. Even if he could grow a beard, he’d just shave it off. Not everyone could pull off that sexy stubble look like Ethan. Plus, his hair was white. He’d probably just look like… Santa Claus or something.
Still, he would have liked to have had the option.
“Yeah, right. Now- shut up and sleep, okay?”
“Okay.”
Ethan napped for the entirety of twenty minutes. Revolutionary for him. Xander heard him retching all the way from the kitchen. He huffed, filled up a glass of water, grabbed his designated vomit-bucket, and walked back into Ethan’s room. “Something tells me you need this.”
He set the bucket down in front of Ethan, who groaned. “God. I hate this.”
“Yeah. It’s gonna suck for a while, I’m afraid.” Xander watched Ethan half-heartedly gag into the bucket, making sure to hold his hair back from him.
Once Ethan was sure he was done, Xander helped him to sit up again, and sip some water. It wasn’t that… weird for them, really. Ethan had done the same for him before. Worse, even. Wiped the vomit off his face a few times.
“This is why I don’t get sick.” Ethan grumbled, grimacing at the aftertaste left behind in his mouth.
Xander snorted. “That implies you have a choice in the matter.”
“This is so embarrassing.” Ethan mumbled, as Xander helped him sip the water.
“Yeah, well,” Xander muttered, “Imagine having to deal with this all the time. And at least you threw up on the floor, and not… on somebody else. That’s embarrassing.”
Ethan shook his head. “It’s not embarrassing, Alex.”
Xander sighed. Of course he’d say that.
Xander placed another cold, wet washcloth on Ethan’s forehead, biting his lip at the way he melted at it. God, he was so cute.
“Hey, Alex.” Ethan’s voice was quiet.
“Hm?”
“Thank you for this. Really. I uhm- I’ve always been… pretty independent, so I don’t really let people… look after me. But this means a lot. So, yeah. Thanks.” Ethan’s face got steadily ruddier and ruddier, and evidently not just because of the temperature he was sporting. He was flustered.
Fuck, that was adorable. Xander wanted to punch him in the face. In the mouth region, to be specific. With his own mouth.
Shit, there was something seriously wrong with him.
“It’s- whatever.” Xander said with as much nonchalance as he could muster. “You always do the same for me, so.”
“Yeah. And I always will.” Ethan was staring at him. Xander could feel his gaze burning into the side of his face. He just couldn’t bring himself to look back. He was pretty sure he’d combust.
When Xander had just finished cleaning up the vomit (despite Ethan’s protests that he could do it himself. He obviously couldn’t. He only relented when Xander brought up the countless times Ethan had cleaned up his puke), Ethan spoke again. “You know, I’m curious,” Ethan sank down further into his pillows, “What’s Blake like with- with everything? Do you just not tell him when you get your period?”
Xander paused. “Uh. Not really, no.”
“That checks out.” Ethan huffed a quiet little laugh. “He’d probably like- leave twizzlers on your pillow or something. That’d be sweet.”
Xander gnawed on his bottom lip. “Yeah. Probably.”
“Alex?”
“Yeah?”
“You haven’t told Blake anything, have you?”
Xander sucked the inside of his cheek between his teeth. “That’s… he doesn’t need to know anything.”
“No, no, wait a second.” Ethan sat up a little. “How many people actually know?”
Xander let his eyes shut for a moment, something hot and irritant bubbling up inside him. “Just drop it.”
“Alex.”
Xander pushed Ethan back to a lying position with a hand on his chest. He went down easily, although moreover due to weakness than compliance. “Fine. My mama, you, Christian. Happy?”
Ethan looked absolutely flabbergasted. “That’s it? Alex, why haven’t you told anyone?”
Frankly, Xander wasn’t quite sure why exactly he snapped. But he did. He lost it. “I’m sorry, since when do I fucking owe the world information about my genitals?”
Ethan looked a little startled, sitting up again. “Alex-”
“No, no, seriously.” Xander was pacing now. “How would you feel if you were apparently- fucking obligated to tell everyone your- your dick size or something? Is that not fucking dehumanising and invasive? Why is it different when it’s me? Why do I have to tell everyone what’s in my fucking pants?”
“Alex.” Ethan stilled him with a hand on his hip. Xander hadn’t realised he was shaking until he stopped him.
Ethan exhaled quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. But that’s… not what I meant.” He rubbed his thumb idly over the fabric covering Xander’s hip. Xander thought about slapping his hand away.
He didn’t.
“What’d you mean, then?”
“I meant,” Ethan stared up at him earnestly. Big, blue, blue eyes. Xander felt his face heat up. “I hate that you still think you need to hide from everybody.”
Xander swallowed. “I’ve hidden from people my entire life, Ethan. Even in prison, I had to take showers in your goddamn office so I wouldn’t get hate-crimed.”
“Look, I understand why you’d-”
“No, you don’t understand. At all. Since the moment I was born, I’ve just been this… abnormal freak of nature. So, actually. You don’t get it. At all.”
Ethan tapped the side of his waist. “You’re right. I don’t get how you feel exactly. But I do understand, in a way, okay?” Xander stared down at him, his lips pressed together, waiting for him to continue.
Ethan did, although a little reluctantly. “You know, when my brother found out that I was gay, he beat the shit out of me. Ripped my earring out. Even cracked one of my ribs. Then, he kicked me out. I slept on park benches for a week before Neil found me and took me in.”
Xander faltered. He… hadn’t known that, actually. “Oh.”
“So,” Ethan continued, his gaze lowered, “I took out my tongue piercing. Stopped wearing- eyeliner or whatever. Started dressing differently. Because I was terrified people would find out and I’d go through that all over again.”
Maybe we’re not as different as I thought. Xander realised with a little jolt. He got that jolt a lot recently.
“But,” Ethan’s fingers drifted from Xander’s hip to his lower back, “I realised I didn’t want to hide for my entire life. I’m not saying you have to be- super public about it and tell everyone you meet. Hell, I certainly didn’t do that. I just told the people I trusted. And maybe you can do the same.”
“...Uhm.” Xander swallowed, his throat suddenly having a weird, unwelcome lump in it. “I- I’ll think about it. Telling Blake.”
“Good. Because that kid adores you, Alex. If you magically turned into an ant, he’d build you a terrarium, feed you honey, and find you a bunch of little ant friends.”
Xander scoffed quietly, slightly annoyed, partially because it was a weird metaphor, and partially because it was a very fitting metaphor. Ugh, Blake would absolutely build him a terrarium, feed him honey and find him a bunch of little ant friends if he were to turn into an ant.
“I’ll think about it.” He repeated himself. Ethan smiled up at him, then (God, he was so pretty). Xander scowled back at him. “And you’re still sick. So, go back to sleep, and scream for me if you’re like… dying, I guess.”
“Duly noted.” Ethan lay back down on his back before Xander could push him down again. “Thanks, again, Alex. For… this.”
Right back at you, Xander thought.
Ethan went out like a light, for once. Rare for him, that insomniac fuck. Despite the fact that he’d just been puking his guts out less than an hour beforehand, he… didn’t look horrible. Sickness just brought a delicate flush to his cheeks. He looked more sweet than disgusting, honestly. How unfair.
Xander chewed the fleshy inside of his cheek. Maybe he would let Blake know. Not necessarily make a big deal out of it, he’d die. But just like… let him know. Casually.
He huffed, then. Fucking Ethan Collins back at it again, always making him change his mind about things.
Asshole. Xander was going to torture him in the worst way possible; by burying him under a heap of blankets, spoon-feeding him medicine and making him soup. That independent little asshole would hate it. The perfect revenge.
Rainnydays Tue 25 Nov 2025 12:21AM UTC
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