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“I just need to check on—”
“Arthur lay down and rest.”
Arthur waved his hand at John as he turned to grab his coat. “I’m fine, John, it’ll only take a mo—”
Arthur’s protests were cut off when he found his wrist being yanked backward until he spun around to face John. The man’s other hand rested on his cheek, and it felt so nice on his feverish skin.
“Arthur,” John murmured, “we don’t have to fight for our lives, jumping from one mystery to the next. We’ve earned a life where we can take a break from it all.”
Arthur shifted because John was right of course, but—
That line of thought was interrupted by John pulling him even closer. He pressed their foreheads together and whispered, “Please, Arthur.”
“John,” Arthur sighed. Fuck if this fractured god-turned-man didn’t have Arthur wrapped around his little finger. “You’re right, of course. Thank you for the reminder.”
John celebrated his win by stealing a kiss gladly given from Arthur’s lips. At the press of their mouths together, Arthur couldn’t hold back a contented sigh that held the undercurrent of a whine. He was so warm and Arthur was so tired.
“Let me take care of you,” John whispered when they pulled apart.
Arthur nodded, leaning all his weight into John, who correctly took that as an invitation to lift Arthur into his arms and lead them into the bedroom. He didn’t go anywhere after settling Arthur down into the blankets, climbing in right after to wrap Arthur up in his warm embrace.
After a moment of laying in silence, John shyly admitted, “I’ve never actually taken care of someone with a cold before.”
Arthur smiled and thought about it. “Well, this is nice. Warmth helps break the fever—oh, soup is usually good for that as well. And make sure I’m drinking enough water. Other than that it should resolve itself.”
“Sounds easy enough,” John said, rubbing his nose against Arthur’s—something that usually made Arthur melt, but suddenly reminded him of an important factor. He pulled back out of John’s reach.
“It is contagious so maybe you shouldn’t share the bed, an-and wear a mask,” Arthur said in response to John’s noises of complaint.
John huffed in annoyance, “Arthur that’s ridiculous. This body—”
“Is still a body!” Arthur finished for him. “You may have the spirit of a god, but you’re still human.”
“I’ll risk it,” John said, scooting closer again. “Like you said, holding you helps, and I’m sure my body can resolve itself of sickness just as well as yours.”
Arthur sighed, wanting to protest but enjoying John’s embrace too much to really care. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Days later, as Arthur found himself discovering that a sick god could be so very whiny.