Chicken Soup for the Heart
A/N: I've been sick and pathetic lately. So I wrote this to make me feel better. And it did!
Disclaimer: Still don't own it.
Someone was pounding on his door. Leonard Snart awoke blearily, head full of cotton. He buried his head further into the couch cushion, trying to drown out the noise and making no move to answer the door.
"Len! I know you're in there! Come on and open the door." Len groaned. Why, why did Wally always show up when he didn't want him around? What was he even here for anyway? Len sniffed, trying to stop his nose from running, but the sudden forced inhalation of air caused the body wracking coughs to start again.
Cold was sick. With what wasn't important: some bug or another that had been flying around. But it was painful. His throat was raw, and he was sore from coughing so much. His head was pounding, and laying in one position for so long made him sore too. The swollen lymph nodes made turning his head hurt, so shouting at Wally to go away wasn't an option. Speaking of the ginger...
"Len? Are you okay?" The beating on the door had stopped thankfully, and his voice had gone from frustrated to quiet and concerned. "Lenny?" Len grunted, and pushed his arms under his body. Better to face the pain of moving then to deal with Wally breaking his door. He pushed up, fell, then pushed up on his arms again. The pounding had began again, now taking on a frenzied tinge. Shivering, Len wrapped his arms around himself as he slowly stumbled his way to the door. He was dizzy, and his blood was rushing in all sorts of different directions it shouldn't. It took him over a minute to reach the door, an action that usually took fifteen seconds. He slammed into the door hard, panting. The banging stopped.
"Lenny?" Len placed his hand on the door to brace himself. It was vibrating ever so slightly, and no one else would have noticed. But even sick, Len had been in the game long enough to feel the tiniest of vibrations. "Len, I can feel you on the other side of this door. Open up." Ooh, Mr. Flash was serious now. Taking a deep breath, Len opened the door slowly.
"Hey," Everything was spinning, and black spots were swimming in the corners of his eyes and spreading. "Wally?" His legs gave out, and he lost consciousness before he hit the ground.
The next time he woke up was much more pleasant. The room he was in was bathed in dim light filtered through a dark red curtain. It was quiet too, a few low noises coming through the walls. He was in a large bed, buried in a sheet, a blanket, and a thick comforter. The blanket was yellow, the comforter was red, and the sheet was... 'Seriously? Flash pattern sheets?' Well, at least he knew where he was now.
The door to the bedroom opened, flooding the room in artificial light. Len groaned, burying his head back under the covers. There was a gentle laugh, and the door closed with a light click.
"My little eskimo." Wally cooed. He carried a tray on his arm, and set it down on the table beside the bed. He nuzzled his cheek against Len's, laughing lightly. Len growled.
"I am n-not a child." He said between coughs. Wally smiled. He helped Len into a sitting position, then crawled behind him so that Len sat between his legs and against his back.
"I know you're not. But you're sick, and you're my lover, so it's my job and pleasure to baby you to the best of my ability. Len blushed, but it wasn't noticeable with his already pink face.
"Heh, what would you're uncle say." Len chuckled. He twisted, getting comfortable against the meta-human. "I'm gonna make you sick." He mumbled. As if to prove his point, he started coughing harshly. Wally frowned, wrapping his arms around him a pressing his back to Len's sweaty one. He made shushing sounds in his ear, rubbing his hands against the villain's stomach. He vibrated them lowly, soothing the twitching muscles. When the coughing finally ceased, Len slumped back against the warmer male as he leaned back against the headboard, panting and woozy. Wally kissed him behind the ear, then on the shell.
"My poor little eskimo." Len grunted, brows furrowing. He opened up his eyes a cracked, glaring at Wally without much heat.
"I'm gonna make you sick." He repeated. "I might even do it on purpose." Wally smirked.
"Nope! I already caught this bug. Fast metabolism burns off any sickness real quick too." Len crossed his arms.
"Pfft, lucky ass." Wally smirked.
"Hm, never thought I'd hear you complain about my ass." Len's head twisted around to yell at Wally, but the intense pain from the action stopped him. He groaned, then groaned again from pleasure as warm, vibrating hands wrapped gently around his neck.
"You, nng, are fucking glorious!" He coughed again, the vibrations slightly agitating to his esophagus. Wally snickered.
"I believe the correct phrase is 'fucking fabulous!'." He pitched his voice, and Len thought briefly that he sounded kind of like a drunk James, though that might have been the point. "And if I am, you are too." Len simply nodded, too busy sniffing to answer. Wally reached over to the table, and deposited the forgotten tray into Len's lap. Len blinked, taking a moment to appreciate the spread before him.
There was a mug of orange juice with a lid, some sort of golden colored soup that still had steam rising from it, a box of Kleenexes, and an assortment of pill bottles. Wally reached around him and rifled through the bottles.
"I didn't know exactly what was bothering you, so I just grabbed a little bit of everything."
"Thanks." Len croaked. The symptoms seemed to come and go as they pleased. He grabbed one of the hands not belonging to him and intertwined his fingers with it, holding it to his heart. Wally paused, pressing a kiss to the back of Len's neck.
"All right. You need to eat that before it gets cold, I don't care if you are the captain of cold, cold soup is not gonna cut it." Len laughed. It's not his fault puns were so much fun! "And I want you to drink all of that juice, cause dehydration is bad. Do you have a fever?" He pressed the inside of his wrist to Len forehead. "Oh yeah! Definitely fever. Do you want an ice pack or heating pad, cause you seemed kinda sore, and you were really stiff when I was carrying you back here." Len listened to all of the chatter only half paying attention, too preoccupied with the soup. It was fantastic beyond belief, and he didn't know if it was because he was sick or not.
"Cold pack for my neck would be good." He added. He felt Wally nod. Suddenly there was a hand with a dozen different pills in his face.
"Take these. You'll feel better." Len put his spoon down, reaching for the mug. He took the pills in three goes, much to Wally's admonishment.
"Thanks, mom." Len muttered sarcastically.
"Gettin' kinky are we? Damn, I must have given you magic pills." Len nearly spit out his juice, instead going into another fit of coughing.
"Dumbass!" Wally's hand was rubbing his back. "You sure are touchy-feely. And even if I was 'getting kinky', wouldn't I call you 'Daddy'?" Wally sputtered, then burst out laughing.
"Oh fuck! Good to know your humor can't be hurt. And why are you always complaining about me being touchy when you enjoy it so much?"
"That I do." Len swallowed another spoonful of the Wonder Soup. "Where the hell did you get this?" Wally smiled, his hands returning to Len's waist. "It's a friend of a friend's recipe." Len rolled his eyes.
"Considering I know most of your 'friends' in some form or fashion..." Wally chuckled.
"I called up Nightwing and asked him if he had anything to make sick people feel better, cause I don't know jack about cooking beyond eggs and meat of some sort or anything from a can or box. But anyway, he gave me the recipe of this amazing soup he ate all the time when he was a kid. I know, I've had it many a time before." Len nodded. He hadn't truly heard all of that, but got the gist. Damn, the soup was gone. He sighed, leaning back against Wally again and setting his spoon down.
"'S good." Wally took the mug of juice and set it on the table along with the tissues. Then he wiggled out from behind the anti-hero, taking the tray and leaving.
"I'll be back in a second with an ice pack." Len grunted, rearranging himself to adapt to the absence of the speedster. He gave up after getting tangled up in the sheets, simply laying down with a soft thud. He closed his eyes, but opened them a second later as Wally came back into the room.
"You're getting slow Flashy." Wally stuck his tongue out, handing Len the ice pack.
"I don't know where you want it, so there it is." Len glared at him.
"Ass." He wrapped the cool gel pack around the back of his neck, sighing in relief. Wally leaned down, pressing his lips to his forehead.
"Need anything else, my little eskimo?" Len glared at him.
"Sappy ass." He shifted a bit under the covers. He frowned slightly. It was going to sound weak, but he could pass it off as sickness, right? "Stay with me?" Wally blinked, but nodded.
"Okay." He walked to the end of the bed, and climbed onto the bed from there, crawling up until he was under the covers and spooned tightly against Len. He yawned. "If you do get me sick, I'm expecting some sort of pay back." Len chuckled.
"Sure, what ever. I'm afraid my beside manner is a little cold, however. You might receive an icy reception." Wally groaned dramatically.
"Stop, stop, the puns! Ahhhh!" Len smiled as he drifted off. He hadn't had anyone take care of him when he was sick in a long time. It was nice. But something was bothering him...
"Wally?" Wally blinked his eyes open, giving a questioning grunt. "Why the hell did you come over to my house today?" Wally opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and frowned.
"I don't even know!" He said after a minute, laughing. Len rolled his eyes.
"Dumbass." Wally shook his head.
Len sighed as he brushed Wally's sweat soaked bangs off of his forehead.
"Already had it, huh?" Wally groaned.
"Shut up!" He whined, interspersed with coughing.
"Shh, don't get your red spandex undies in a twist." They fell into comfortable silence, filled with heavy breathing and the sound created as Len ran his hand against Wally's back under his shirt. Wally shifted, turning more onto his side. "Do you need anything?" Wally jerked, coughing.
"Juice. Sleep." He paused, glancing at Len from the corner of his eye without moving his head. "You."
Len bent down and brushed his lips against Wally's forehead. "And you can have me." Wally pulled his arm from the sheets, grabbing Len's hand and interlacing their fingers.
"All of you? Even the darker, grittier parts. Even," He put their hands on Len's heart. "this part?" Len's smile faltered, but only for a second.
"Sure kid, even that part. Especially that part. But please, stay away from the darker parts. Even I don't like it in there." Wally frowned.
"But that's why I want to! We can do it together!" He coughed, his body jerking spastically. Len gave him a sympathetic look, handing him the juice from the table beside the bed. 'Oh how the tables have turned.' Wally gave him a grateful look, drinking the juice while still coughing. He took a deep breath and held it, letting it out slowly. Len took the mug back, placing it on the table before crawling onto the bed. He didn't get under the covers, instead just flopping his arm over Wally's hip.
"I am not risking getting sick again." Wally smiled, curling up into a ball.
"You're here. That's all that matters to me." Then he was gone, passed out into sleep. Len frowned.
"Seriously? All that mush, and you just pass out!" Len closed his eyes and shook his head. "Dumbass."