Mark sat on the couch of his shared apartment, wrapped in a large knit blanket from home.  University wasn't all as his friends had said it to be, and missing a day in class due to sickness, in his book, was an unacceptable act.  He curled his legs up to his chest, resting his head on his knees; taking in small rhythmic breaths.  He was just about to doze off again, until the jangling of keys was heard at the front door.

Mark silently thanked God, it was Jackson.

"Your Lord and savior is here!" came the slightly obnoxious call from just outside of the living space.  Mark sat upright, muting the TV.

"What did you get me?"

"First, I picked up your stupid medicine, twice a day, every twelve hours for the next two weeks." Jackson said, tossing Mark a bottle with a thick pink liquid flowing inside of it.

"Gross, did you get bubblegum flavored medicine?" Mark teased, setting the bottle on the ground next to the couch.

"Shut up and be grateful I love you." Jackson said sing-songly.

Mark stood, keeping the warm blanket around his shoulders and shuffling towards the kitchenette area where Jackson had laid what he had bought from Walgreens.

"What else did you get me?"

Jackson looked up, arranging what appeared to be a countertop-full of food.  Mark slid into a chair, facing the black haired boy who stood across from him on the other side of the counter.  Jackson leaned forward and booped the sick boy’s nose, which, in turn, caused a raging sneezing fit.

When Mark was finished, he shook his head slightly, his messy, sweat doused bangs falling into his eyes.

“I’m making chicken fried rice for you, I also bought some blueberries because they’re antioxidants...or whatever.”  Jackson motioned to the ingredients in front of them both, a smile spread across his face, waiting for his boyfriend to reply.

“I’m not really hungry anymore.” Mark finally said, looking down. “I just feel gross, and I want to sleep.”

Jackson nodded, coming around to Mark’s side of the counter.  He wrapped his arms around his shoulders, resting his head on top of Mark’s.

“How do you manage to be polite when you’re sick?”

Mark turned around and placed a kiss on Jackson’s cheek in response.  With that, they both migrated to the couch, and Jackson clung to Mark’s shivering body.

“Is this okay?” Jackson asked, his voice now small.

“You’re warm.” Mark hummed in reply.  Mark rested his head on Jackson’s chest, the steady thumping of his heart lulling him to sleep.