#randiase

“I don’t know,” Randy tells him, leaning back a little so he can turn his head and look at Ted.  His back is pressed up against the arm of the couch now, Ted’s arm still stretched out behind his back, though, instead of resting on his shoulder.  “I might be getting sick.”

 “I hope not.”  Ted gets Randy to sit back where he was before, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

 Later on, after Randy continues to sneeze periodically, he says as they’re sitting together in bed, “I can feel the post nasal drip already settling in.”

 “So, you’re definitely sick, then?” Ted asks, though he can hear the change in Randy’s voice, hear how his normally deep rumble has become all nasally. 

 “Yeah.  Yeah, definitely sick.”  Randy drops his head back onto the headboard, because this is the last thing he wants.

 “Do you have everything you need?  Water, tissues, cough drops, cold meds?” Ted asks him, turning into mama hen on the spot. 

 “No.”

 “What do you need, then?  I’ll go grab it for you.”

 Randy glances to his bedside table that’s got nothing on it but his cell phone.  “Everything that you just mentioned?”

 Ted sighs, but gives Randy’s cheek a peck before getting out of bed to go gather up the needed sick supplies.  He’s glad it just seems like a cold, though, and nothing worse than that.  Still, even when it’s just a cold Randy becomes a two year old child who suddenly can’t do a thing on his own.  Not that he’s really any better.  Which is why he’s ok with taking care of Randy, because he knows that Randy does the same for him.  He returns to the bedroom a few minutes later holding an armful of things for Randy.  He’s got three bottles of water, a whole bag of cough drops, two boxes of tissues and two nighttime cold pills.

 “Thank you, baby,” Randy says when Ted comes back and arranges everything on the tabletop next to him.