Milo + Raymond with rainstorm ⛈//blanket snuggles //💗colds //🦠scratchy throat 😣? c:
Ray is late and Milo is on the verge of a panic attack. He suddenly wishes he’d classed his cell phone as ‘essential’ during their last evaluation of their spending. (Ray’s was classed as such since he needed to be in touch with his various employers but Milo was something of a gray area and they couldn’t really afford the upkeep on two phones.) It’s been raining all day, sometimes drizzling and sometimes shifting into a torrential downpour. At the moment it’s the latter which is only fuelling Milo’s anxiety. Ray shouldn’t be out in this; he’s already down with a vicious cold and he really doesn’t need the extra strain on his system.
To keep himself from staring out of the window anxiously, Milo cleans the kitchen. Twice. And then the bedroom - though there isn’t much to clean in there. He’s halfway through scrubbing the bathtub to within an inch of its life when he hears the door open and feels the boulder of tension in his chest start to settle.
Ray looks worn out as he toes out of his shoes.
“Oh, honey,” Milo whispers, not even sure if Ray can hear him, as he bridges the distance and starts stripping Ray out of his soaked clothes right there in the hallway.
“Hello to you too,” Ray jokes between shivers. “Nice to see you still want me even when I look like this.”
Milo isn’t listening. “I’ve been so worried about you,” he says without really meaning to say it out loud. The scratchy, hoarse sound of Ray’s voice makes sympathy surge through Milo’s veins right down to his fingers which start working on the knots in Ray’s shoulders almost without any conscious choice on Milo’s part.
“I’m okay,” Ray says but he sounds stuffy and it’s clear he’s exhausted. “Really. It’s okay.”
Apparently Ray can tell that Milo feels so guilty about this that he might throw up. He tries not to - Ray tells him it’s not his fault - but the guilt eats him alive all the same. Still, this isn’t about him. So he swallows down his burning guilt and anxiety and worry and leans in to kiss the very tip of Ray’s pointed nose.
“Come on,” he whispers, cupping Ray’s face tenderly. “We’ve got the rest of the day together. What do you say to cuddling up in bed and napping through some baseball on the radio, hm?”
Ray smiles wanly. “Sounds wonderful.”