victory_road | [closed] March Catch All

[...Well. Grant's glad he checked in, at least.

He crouches down in front of Dimitri, doing his best to keep from laughing at his poor, sick boyfriend's predicament in favor of speaking up quietly:] Hey, Dimitri... you alright?

[There's a small, sad noise - not too unlike the start up sound of a cat when disturbed, only in human flavor this time.]

....Grant?

Yeah, it's me. [Now that he wouldn't be waking Dimitri up, he reaches out to just... gently pat Dimitri's fingers. He's not sure where else to pat, Dimitri's head and shoulders are covered in a Pajamas Mess.] You having some trouble over here?

[Dimitri's fingers abandon holding on fruitlessly to his shirt, leaving it to just.... stay there, over Dimitri's head. It's much more important to fumble about for Grant's hand instead.]

It is dreadfully hot, Grant...

Mm-hm... because you're wearing flannel pajamas while you've got a fever. [His voice is unmistakably fond as he says that, though.

He gives Dimitri's hand a squeeze before leaning over to get a hold of the back of the pajama shirt.] Alright, can you lift your arms for a moment?

Grant.... They are a gift. You gifted this to me.

[Why does he sound so scandalized? Listen... At least he's still trying to hold his arms up obediently.]

Yes, I did... [He says that soothingly, like he's talking to a nervous horse.] But my intention wasn't for you to cook yourself in them.

[He removes one hand from the back of the shirt to fumble in the mess of fabric until he finds a couple buttons to undo, just so it can fit over Dimitri's head a little easier. Then he pulls it the rest of the way off, setting the shirt aside with a smile.]

There we go. You've got a t-shirt you can change into, right?

[Patiently, Dimitri allows Grant to fiddle with his buttons, and then tug the shirt up over his head. It leaves his hair a mess all about his face, sticking up in odd angles, but frankly it's been like that for a bit now. Not much has really changed.]

[What changes is Dimitri slowly lowering himself sideways to the ground, nuzzling his cheek against the much cooler floor.]

I... do not want to wear the t-shirt.

[The state Dimitri's in gets a soft sound of sympathy, albeit a somewhat amused one. Grant adjusts how he's sitting a bit, resting an elbow on the floor so he can reach over and smooth Dimitri's hair down. It's not gonna do much good long-term, of course, but at least Dimitri may like it.

Unlike, apparently, how he feels about t-shirts right now.] Would that still be too warm?

[A look of contentment falls over Dimitri's face at that hair petting, and draws out a soft sound. Yes, he certainly likes it.]

Mm.... Too warm. And it is not the pajamas.

[It just never stops being cute, how much Dimitri loves having his hair pet. Even with how well he responds to affection in general, it's also nice just to know there's a particular way Grant can touch him that he likes so much--

Aaand he can already tell that thought is threatening to take him down a mental path that seems vastly inappropriate right now. Mind out of the gutter, Dimitri's only half-naked and sweaty because he's sick, and this hair-petting is completely innocent.

Anyway.]

Hm, yeah... do you want me to get you something to drink? I've got a couple washcloths chilling, too.

[Blinking his eye open again, Dimitri starts to slowly push himself up. Oh. Oh, Grant is going somewhere, now. He is getting something.]

I will help.

No-- nope. [Grant sets his hands on Dimitri's shoulders, not pushing him but just... steadying him for the moment.] You're not going anywhere. If you want help getting back up onto the bed, that's one thing, but you do not need to be walking around right now.

[Dimitri looks like Grant just kicked one of his rats.]

But... You are going.

[Oh nooo--

Grant leans in kiss Dimitri's forehead, sweaty as it may be.] It won't be for long; I'd just be getting you a couple things and coming right back.

[Dimitri tries to lean against Grant, even as he gets that little forehead kiss.]

But I love you.

[Dimitri, that isn't an argument.]

[It sure is not, but it would still be making this very difficult if Grant weren't as determined as he is to make sure Dimitri stays put. He sighs softly, giving Dimitri's hair a couple more pets.]

I love you, too, sweetheart, but that's just why I don't want you wearing yourself out trying to walk around right now.

[Oh... Dimitri sinks as best he can against Grant's hand, eye slipping shut once more.]

Oh, Anliuka...

You need. A token of mine.

[Oh. For a moment, he's taken by surprise by the unfamiliar name - and then he realizes it... kind of resembles the Faerghan nicknames he's heard Felix, Dimitri, and Sylvain call each other by. Even though he just broke out a term of endearment for Dimitri himself (however thoughtlessly), his face goes just slightly pink.]

A token?

Mm. Something so that you will come back.... And always remember me...

[And so he picks up his pajama top and tries to. clumsily tie the sleeves to one of Grant's wrists.]

[Dimitri, he's just going down the hall.]

Uh-- [Well... this is happening. He might as well let it, since he supposes there's no harm... and he's still kind of a sucker for Dimitri's Princely Dramatics, even when they're kind of ridiculous.] Th-thank you. ...I'll only be gone a couple minutes, you know.

But I do not want you to be gone a couple minutes.

[No more prince. Time for whining.]

[...Okay he is not going to laugh at his sick boyfriend, he is NOT going to laugh at his sick boyfriend--]

When I get back, though, I'll have water and a cold cloth for you so you won't be quite so warm. Don't you want that?

[Dimitri wobbles a little.]

...I do.

Then you stay here, I'll step out just for a couple minutes, and then we can get you cooled down a little. Okay? [He kisses Dimitri's forehead again, and adjusts to get ready to stand up... while trying to keep the pajama shirt from falling off his wrist. That seems like it'd be distressing to Dimitri right now, so he'll just tote this around until he gets back.] I promise I'll be right back.

C

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