#rupolo

Polo very rarely got sick. Perhaps Tellus blessed him with an iron-clad immune system, or maybe he just ate a lot of dirt as a kid. Either way, you could count on one hand the number of times he had taken ill. But in those few times he managed to catch something, each and every one of them hit him like a truck. And this one was no exception.

It started when him and Ruben returned to their student pad from a lecture. Ruben didn't suspect anything when his friend complained of a headache and went to lie down in his room. He had no reason to believe there was something wrong. Headaches were normal, especially after that doozy of a lecture the poor guy had to sit through.

What wasn't normal, however, was how he stayed in his room for the rest of the evening. Ruben had noticed this when five o-clock rolled around. Tonight was Polo's turn to make dinner, and he usually would have gotten started by now. Feeling a tad frustrated, Ruben made his way to his friend's room. Maybe he was taking a nap and forgot to set an alarm. This wouldn't have been the first time it happened.

His knock on the door was met with silence, confirming the nap hypothesis. Raising an eyebrow, Ruben opened the door and stepped inside. He wouldn't wake his friend just to make him cook dinner, of course, but he did know that Polo wouldn't want to miss any meals.

The rooms lights were out and the curtains were drawn, leaving everything in darkness. The light shining through the doorway fell across the bed, revealing Polo's dishevelled form. He was sprawled right on top of the blankets, still wearing his shoes, jacket and headband. His right arm was draped across his eyes, blocking out the light. He was so still that the only indication of him being awake was the quiet groan slipping from his mouth.

Ruben frowned, his frustration turning to worry.

"Polo? You alright in there?" he asked, walking up to the bed. From what he could see, his skin had a sort of washed-out look to it. It could have been a trick of the low-light, but that was highly doubtful.

Polo groaned again, this time a little louder. He slowly shook his head in response, but even that was enough to make him wince.

"Ru', 'm not gonna lie," he mumbled, "feelin' like garbage." Those few words sounded like a huge effort to say, and his voice was quite dry. Ruben reached over to feel his forehead, and his concern was validated when the skin was warm to the touch. Polo subconsciously leaned into his palm, chasing the cool sensation.

"Shit, that's not good." he sighed. His mind began racing as he pondered what to do. How do you take care of a sick guy? He's never had to play nurse with anyone before, let alone Polo. He didn't even know Polo could get sick in the first place! Was this bad enough to warrant a doctor? Was Polo gonna die?!

He shook away his unease and pulled his hand away. This was just a fever, no need to overreact. He could do this. His best friend needed him.

First, he needed to break that fever. He had some washcloths stowed somewhere, and he knew for a fact that he bought painkillers the day before. Nodding to himself, he gave Polo a pat on the shoulder.

"I'll be back. Gonna get some stuff to help you." he said. He only got a short hum in response as he left the room. Once he returned with a damp cloth, some painkiller, and a glass of water, the next few minutes had Ruben helping Polo out of his jacket and shoes. He then rested his head on some pillows and pulled the blanket up to his chin. Polo could barely keep his eyes open at that point, but they looked glassy and lethargic the few times they did open.

When a wet cloth was laid over his forehead, his features softened slightly as the cool fabric gave him some relief. Ruben took a step back to look over his friend.

"Feeling any better?" he asked.

"A little..."

"Do you need any food or something?"

"Nah..." Polo immediately replied, screwing up his face slightly. Ruben smiled in spite of the situation.

"Damn, you really are sick." he said. He must be really going through it if the very mention of food was enough to elicit that reaction. "Try and get some rest, alright? I'll come check on you later."

After one last look over his friend's face, he turned to leave the room. At least, he planned on doing so. He was immediately stopped by a grip on his forearm. He looked back in surprise, seeing that Polo had forced his eyes open once more. It was hard to make out in the dark, but there looked to be a bit of anxiety beneath all the fatigue. Ruben looked down at the hand on his arm, which was surprisingly firm, then back at Polo.

"Do you, uh, need something else?" he asked. Polo hesitated. His hold loosened slightly, but he didn't let go entirely. His gaze slid down to the bedsheets, avoiding Ruben's eye.

"I just... um..." he murmured. There was another long pause before he spoke again. "'m not usually sick. It sucks, and I... I don't want to..." His raspy voice trailed off before he could finish. He tightened his hold on Ruben, hoping it would get the message across. It apparently did, as Ruben felt his face heat up a little.

"You want me to stay?" he asked awkwardly, unsure if that was what he wanted. Polo nodded and closed his eyes.

"Please."

Ruben blinked for a few seconds. He supposed it made sense that he wouldn't want to be alone. If your only experiences with being sick felt this miserable, of course you wouldn't want to go through it alone.

Yeah, that’s it, Ruben thought. He just feels like crap. No need to make it weird.