“Planning on becoming one with the chair tonight?” The soft voice behind him is teasing and fond in equal measures, and he can’t help but smile. He nearly forgot that someone insisted on coming over to help take care of him even when he told them that he was fine.

He doesn’t move from his chair though, just shrugs in response. “It’s starting to sound really tempting.”

 Ian laughs lightly and she steps closer to ruffle his hair with one hand while the other hand settles on his shoulder. Kyle relaxes slightly at the familiar touch and things are alright for a few moments. He can feel the tickle at the back of his throat though, the one that’s been bugging him the entire stream, and reluctantly pulls away from Ian to reach for his tea and hopes that does the trick.

 Naturally, with his luck, he ends up half bent into his knees and hacking for a solid painful twenty seconds. He can feel a hand rubbing circles between his shoulder blades as he does, but it’s only a small comfort when he feels like his lungs are about to come out his mouth.

 When the coughing finally stops he doesn’t move, makes a small noise that he knows he’d be embarrassed by if he could pull enough of his brain together. He gets about four seconds of unmoving quiet before Ian pats him on the back.

 “Alright, up. Into bed with you,” she says.

 He sighs but doesn’t protest, doesn’t really have the energy to, and peels himself away from the chair, wincing as he stretches upward. His whole body aches. When he turns and finally can see Ian, she’s got a slight frown on her face and Kyle can feel the lecture he’s going to get later. “I know, I know. Shouldn’t have streamed, all of that.” He holds his hands up to ward her off and gets a laugh in reward.

 “Good, then I don’t have to fuss at you! Bed, go.” She reaches up to grab his shoulders and bodily steers him in the direction of his room, giving him a gentle shove. He can’t help the laugh it pulls out of him, even though a cough follows right on its tail.

 The cool fabric of his comforter is a welcome feeling after sitting in his leather chair for the past two hours, and he goes horizontal almost immediately, curling up on top of the blanket. (He’s suddenly very grateful he chose to put on his pajama pants before he started the stream.) Once he’s down he’s pretty much down for the count, and he doesn’t know how long he lays there before Ian comes into the room.

 She clicks her tongue softly and sits on the bed next to him, water bottle in hand. “Bossy, you’re pathetic.”

He snorts at that, turning his face into the pillow so it intentionally muffles his reply of “You like it.” No dice though, she laughs loud and delighted at what she clearly heard every word of. The heat rushes to his face and makes the stuffed feeling behind it even more unbearable. Wordlessly he reaches for the water bottle and she relinquishes it easily.

It takes a moment of readjusting himself upward, but finally he manages to get into a position where he can drink. Too much tea is the only way he knows how to get better, but he can’t deny how good the water feels on his throat. He downs nearly half the bottle before he’s done, screwing the cap back on and setting it on his nightstand.

Ian gives him a soft look. “Better?” He nods in affirmation, then begins to slide back down into the bed. “What did I say, pathetic. Get under the blanket, you big baby,” she says firmly, already getting up to yank at the blanket underneath him.

A small whine escapes him but he laughs a little at her insistence. “Okay, I got it, calm down,” he says, twisting up and away so he can pull the blanket down. Ian doesn’t look satisfied until he is fully under it, and he gives her an obnoxious face to pull a smile back on her face. “Happy?”

That earns him an eyeroll, but she does say yes. For a moment, Kyle isn’t sure what to do. He can feel the haze of being sick over his brain and body, but he also doesn’t quite want her to leave either. Of course she’s welcome to stay, but.. His thoughts trail off as he gives up on thinking too hard.

She answers his question on her own anyway as she walks to the door, and he tries not to think about the small spot of disappointment in his chest. Of course she should go home, it’s not like he’d be great company. She takes him by surprise though, as she flicks his light off and then returns to the bed, shedding her socks and shirt as she goes.

He makes a small noise of protest as she slides under the blanket with him, turning over to frown at her. She is going to get sick if she sleeps in the same bed as him, is she serious? Ian just laughs and places a finger over his mouth to shush him. “Shhh. It’s sleeping time.”

Kyle rolls his eyes but obediently stays quiet, can’t help the smile that crosses his face. He doesn’t want to admit it, won’t admit it, but he’s grateful she stayed. She nudges his shoulder and after a moment he gets the message, turns over so his back faces her. After a moment her arm snakes over him and settles there. The tension he didn’t realize was there starts to leak out of his frame and he can feel the layer of exhaustion sink in as he relaxes into his bed.

They were doing absolutely and utterly nothing; a typical lazy Saturday in the Bosman-Hinck apartment. Sitting on the couch with some obscure movie playing, barely paying attention to it and cuddled up against each other like their lives depended on it. A thin blanket lay across the two of them, barely covering their well-worn pajamas and dangerously close to an old bowl of who-knows-what on the coffee table. Kyle was roused for the first time in nearly an hour when Ian spoke.

“What do you mean, proposition me? You have something fun in mind?” He squeezed Ian's hand in his own, enjoying her grounding touch.

“Well, we have nothing else to do.” She sighed, looking just a touch nervous. “I was thinking, if you're okay with it of course, maybe I could… do your makeup? I mean, I have my box of stuff and it's nothing special,” she started rambling, “but you have such good eyelashes and we could clean up your eyebrows, and maybe do a little bit of contour--” She was cut off by another squeeze to the hand. Ian raised her eyes to Kyle's, not even remembering when she had started to look down in embarrassment. She spoke softer this time. “If you wanna try it, I think you’d look really good.”

Kyle was slightly dumbfounded. Him, look good in makeup? Ian was always so stunning when she decided to put anything on her face, he wouldn't be able to live up to her! But he’d be lying if he said he'd hadn't thought about it, with all the compliments he got on his eyelashes. And if there was anyone he'd trust enough to do his makeup, it would be Ian. Yeah, sure. Why not.

The words came out of his mouth before he could overthink it any longer. “Definitely, babe, it sounds fun!” A ridiculous lopsided grin crept onto his face, and it was almost immediately matched by Ian’s radiant smile.

“Awesome, I'll go grab my stuff!” She hurtled off the couch and nearly tripped over Kyle’s feet on her way to their bedroom. After a few seconds of shuffling, she came back out with a relatively small box and sat back on the couch.

The box was pretty fancy, Kyle thought; not really his girlfriend’s style. It was white with gold trim and looked… quite expensive, to say the least. Ian seemed to read Kyle’s thoughts, providing an explanation as soon as she saw the puzzled look on Kyle’s face.

“Oh, Brad got me this a few year back for my birthday! He said it was his from beauty school days, but I think he might’ve just bought it at Sephora.” She shrugged and leaned into him, laughing her whole-body laugh that made Kyle’s stomach do backflips. “Either way, it's come in handy!” She flipped it open and pulled out a handful of colorful tubes. A soft pink one caught Kyle’s eye, and he took it from her hand.

“Ooh, what's that one? It's so nice.”

“That one’s lipstick.” She gently pried it from his curious fingers. “D’you like it? I can use it on you if you want.”

Kyle hadn't thought he was going to be wearing lipstick by the end of this, but he figured he might as well go for it. I mean, hey, it’s really pretty.

“Yes. Yeah, definitely, I like that one.”

Ian smiled wryly. Next she pulled out a small bottle of concealer and waved it in front of Kyle.

“Okay, this one is to cover up any weird spots on your face, so we're just gonna slather it all over, y’know?” She giggled at her own joke, enjoying the redness that washed over Kyle’s cheeks and his small noise of disbelief. He mock-pushed her, but Ian was quick to lean in and press a small kiss to his pink cheek.

“Alright, that's the last one you're getting for a while, Bossy. I don't wanna ruin my beautiful handiwork.” Kyle gave a slight pout at that, but conceded.

“Okay, babe. Let’s do this.” He watched in amazement as his girlfriend proceeded to pull out item after item from the seemingly endless box.

A pair of tweezers. Oh no. Kyle instinctively pulled away from them when she brought them near his eyebrows, but Ian was determined. She softly gripped Kyle's jaw in one hand, and set about fixing his brows with the other. He pursed his lips at each small tug, relaxing only to complain at regular intervals.

“God, babe, how do you do this every morn--” he was cut off by another kiss, this one soft on his lips.

“I can't believe you made me break my promise this soon, Bosman,” Ian said under her breath, a smirk tugging the corner of her mouth. She pecked him on the lips a second time and got back to business. Kyle was quiet until she finished.

“Cool, what's next?”

“This stuff,” she said, punctuated with a shake of the tube she had picked up earlier.

She squirted some of the concealer into her hand and dipped a small makeup sponge into it. Kyle didn't even know they made sponges for makeup. God, he was learning so much.

He hissed when she pressed the sponge to his face, surprised that makeup could be so cold.

“Oh, don't be so whiny, babe. I'm just getting started!” She dotted the sponge all over his face, paying extra attention to his freckles for a solid minute and a half until she was satisfied. “See, you're already looking better!”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Kyle said, shifting on the couch. It was already getting so hard to resist touching his face, he didn't know how Ian did this almost every day.

Ian pulled out a palette of eyeshadow next. “Alright, which one of these do you like best? Except the green one, that would not look good on you.” Kyle rubbed the back of his neck in thought, eyes dancing over the colors. A nice shade of gold drew his gaze and he pointed at it.

“Would that one look good on me?”

“Oh, hell yes, Bossy.” Ian picked up her brush and got to work, making sure to remind Kyle every few seconds to keep his eyes closed. It was only a little uncomfortable, he thought, but soon enough Ian was finished. She studied his face again and retrieved a large, oblong tube that she tried to convince him was mascara.

“C’mon babe, it'll look great!”

“You are not putting that stick near my eyes. Ian, I’ll die.” Kyle was horrified that people willingly put these things near the softest parts of their body and somehow managed to not poke their eyes out.

“Please?” Ian stick out her bottom lip in a comical pout. “This is the best part!” Kyle still looked unconvinced as ever. She rolled her eyes. “I’ll kiss you again,” she added, and Kyle’s facade cracked. Ian could see him weighing his options before her very eyes.

He sighed. “Fine. But if I go blind today, I'm holding you personally responsible.”

Ian smiled, wand already near Kyle's lashes. “Now you have to keep your eyes open for this, babe. If you close them, it'll be ruined.”

“Alright, I can do that.”

He couldn't.

It took 4 separate attempts for Ian to successfully brush mascara onto Kyle's lashes, and the two of them were now surrounded in mascara-laden baby wipes.

Kyle grumbled as Ian finally pulled away, but his noises were quickly replaced with silence when he saw the practically reverent look on his girlfriend’s face. His eyes were perfectly, beautifully framed now; the combined effort she had put in had payed off. The now-fading sunlight reflected softly off of his golden eyeshadow, bringing out the nuances of his eye color, and she let out a low whistle.

“Wow.”

“Huh?”

“Bossy, you're like,” she paused, “the single most beautiful person I've ever seen right now.”

Kyle flushed again, this time an even deeper pink than before, and looked down at his hands. “Uh, th- thanks?” He looked up again, locking eyes with Ian and making sure to flutter his eyelashes just a bit. “Can I have that kiss now?”

Ian laughed, incredulous. “Of course you can, babe, God.”

Kyle grinned, reaching his hand up to rest under her chin and tilting her head back, but caught himself. His eyes widened as he realized he forgot something. “Wait, what about that lipstick? Can you put that on me?”

Ian looked vaguely startled. “Uh, yeah, let me grab it.” She rifled through her box before pulling it out and uncapping it, rubbing the soft wand over Kyle’s lips until they were a soft, light shade of pink. “There... we... go! Now you're the Belle of the ball, Bossy.” She sat there in what seemed to be disbelief and awe for several seconds before Kyle finally lifted her chin up and leaned in.

Kyle was many things, Ian would say, but he was not a bad kisser. Slow and measured he kissed her, relishing the taste of her lip balm and his lipstick mingled together. With one hand he pressed Ian’s shoulder until she was laid back on the couch, her eyes open again when Kyle pulled away.

“God, Bosman, you're gorgeous.” She flung her arms over the back of his neck.

“Thanks. For that. For this.” He ducked down again to capture her lips quickly. “I feel really good.”

Ian’s smile turned to a slight smirk as she pushed Kyle off of her. She took his hand, leading him towards their bedroom and its closet.

She shoves him in the backseat of the car unceremoniously (definitely not the Shafter, the blue isn’t bright enough) before leaping in herself and yelling for Ben to drive already.

Kyle has already tuned them both out, focusing fully on keeping his breathing even and his hand clutched to his side. He’s terrified to look down, knowing that if he moves his hand it’s only going to come away covered in blood. He’s been shot before, definitely, but he doesn’t remember it hurting this bad.

He finds himself cursing the whole stupid lot of them, himself included at the very top of the list. This is why he never gets this close to the action, this is why he only ever takes up post on a nearby rooftop with his belly on the ground and an eye glued to the scope of a sniper. He’s good cover, not so good in close quarters. But there hadn’t really been a choice this time around. Brad had had to sit out because of an unexpected run in with the flu, with Kyle the only one available to take his place in their already too-small crew. And they couldn’t exactly reschedule the murder of a local fascist leader.

So into the midst of it, Kyle went.

His attention is drifting too far already; he doesn’t register the way Ian turns her attention on him as soon as the car is moving, flying down the road and away from their assassination turned disaster. He also doesn’t notice her repeated attempts to peel his hand away from his side until she’s leaned in close, muttering under her breath.

He recoils at their sudden proximity, shaking his head at her. He doesn’t need her help, he just needs to get back to their safehouse and he’ll be fine. He can deal with this himself. “I’m fine. Ian, I’m fine, I promise.” He goes for a reassuring tone, but he can’t hide the pained rasp in his voice. Judging by Ian’s face, he misses the reassurance mark by a mile.

“Bullshit, they shot you! Let me fucking see, Bossy,” she demands, reaching for his hand again. Her hands are gentler than her tone would ever imply, feather light against his side even as she finally manages to pry his own hand away.

He keeps his face turned toward hers, fairly sure that if he makes eye contact with that much of his own blood he’ll be sick. On the other hand, he’s not sure her newly dark expression is any better. Okay, well, maybe he’s worse off than he thought. Still, totally fine. He’s totally fine.

He tilts his head back against the seat and closes his eyes. Maybe if he doesn’t look, then he can pretend it’s not happening. There’s a rattling next to him and Ian is mumbling rapidly to herself under her breath – she must be looking through their unfortunately meager first aid kit. Thank god someone had thought to stow that in the getaway car. He takes a slow, painful breath and can feel himself drifting. For a moment, he thinks it might be a relief. Sleep it off, right?

“Bossy. Bosman. Kyle!”

Ian’s voice jerks him back into full consciousness mentally and physically, and he hisses as the sudden jolt upward pulls at the wound in his side. She gently presses a hand to his shoulder, easing him back down against the seat.

“Easy, easy. Stay awake for me, okay sweetcheeks? We’re almost there. Also, if you die, I will become a necromancer just to raise you from the dead so I can kill you again myself.” She smiles that brilliant, bright smile, although the edges of it look a little frayed. Because of him? Shit.

He chokes on a laugh, immediately regretting the movement. It takes him far longer to speak than he would like, but he can’t just let her get the last word. “Got it. Because spending the rest of my afterlife with you would be so bad.”

She snorts, pushing his sweat-slick hair away from his forehead. “Remind me to get you on your deathbed more often, you’re nicer this way.”