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ajremixTitle: The Power of Soup
Fandom: DCU
Rating: G
Word Count: 595
Characters: Connor, Kyle
In Response to: sickly![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
poisonivory
Summary: Being sick sucks. But homemade soup is awesome.
The sound of the door closing was acknowledged by Connor’s sick-addled brain and he groaned to himself, dragging his blanket up over his head. His father had a good heart but could be incredibly obtuse at times. Connor’s summer cold didn’t at all help- the man had insisted on making his boy some wholesome chicken soup until Dinah pointed out and that most canned soups were more water than anything else and that there was chicken in it. Dinah, at least, was sensible enough to have Mia get Ollie out of the house while she propped open the window in his room to circulate the air and set up the nightstand by his bed with medicine, bottles of water, cough drops, a tissue box and put a heating pad on his stuffy head. She couldn’t stay to take care of him but she said she’d send someone around who could. Connor only prayed whoever came in wasn’t his father.
He rolled onto his side, hoping that if he pretended he was asleep they’d leave him alone. His attempt was thwarted when the movement sent him into a hacking fit.
“Man, you sound terrible.”
Connor’s brow furrowed at the voice, uncertain he heard it right. Peeking out over his blanket he asked, “Kyle?”
Kyle grinned back. “Knock knock. Heard you’re a bit under the weather.” He was glowing faintly. Oh, right- his ring could protect him from Connor’s germs. Made sense.
Taking the silence as permission to enter the room, Kyle stepped in, making a detour to pull the blinds over the window (and oh, the shade felt so much better than all that bright, stabbing light) before going to Connor’s bedside. He placed a hand on the archer’s forehead, apparently using his ring to check Connor’s temperature. “Little high,” he said, “but not too bad.” He took the time to brush curls of blonde hair back, then picked up the heating pad- now lukewarm -from where it fell to the side. “Hot?”
“Yes,” Connor muttered before coughing. He reached out to blow his nose. Somehow having Kyle there made him feel even more disgusting than he already did. Kyle, in contrast, didn’t seem to care. He unwrapped a cough drop and pressed it into Connor’s palm, then had his ring scoop up all the discarded tissues and empty bottles into a trash bin.
“When do you need to take your medicine again?” He asked, a tendril of green light snaked out the room and down the hall. It eventually came back with more water bottles and a warmed heating pad.
“Um, not for another hour or two, I think.”
“How about some food, then?”
Wariness came over him again. “What kind of food?”
From the twist on Kyle’s lips, it was obvious he was trying not to whap Connor’s shoulder. “I called up your mom before coming over to ask what you usually ate when you were sick. She made some soup and rice for you.”
Connor blinked, the pressure in his head easing from the heating pad. “Soup?”
“Yeah, some weird seaweed stuff that actually doesn’t smell too bad.”
“You brought me soup my mom made? From across the country?” There was something about that Connor couldn’t seem to comprehend.
“Yeah. Why? Don’t actually like it? I was going to bring some lentil soup, but I figured you’d rather have homemade mom-soup, so-“
“I love you.” Connor blurted out.
Kyle stared at Connor for a moment. Then he smiled, warmth and affection in his eyes. “Well, good to know we’re on the same page.”
Fandom: DCU
Rating: G
Word Count: 595
Characters: Connor, Kyle
In Response to: sickly
poisonivorySummary: Being sick sucks. But homemade soup is awesome.
The sound of the door closing was acknowledged by Connor’s sick-addled brain and he groaned to himself, dragging his blanket up over his head. His father had a good heart but could be incredibly obtuse at times. Connor’s summer cold didn’t at all help- the man had insisted on making his boy some wholesome chicken soup until Dinah pointed out and that most canned soups were more water than anything else and that there was chicken in it. Dinah, at least, was sensible enough to have Mia get Ollie out of the house while she propped open the window in his room to circulate the air and set up the nightstand by his bed with medicine, bottles of water, cough drops, a tissue box and put a heating pad on his stuffy head. She couldn’t stay to take care of him but she said she’d send someone around who could. Connor only prayed whoever came in wasn’t his father.
He rolled onto his side, hoping that if he pretended he was asleep they’d leave him alone. His attempt was thwarted when the movement sent him into a hacking fit.
“Man, you sound terrible.”
Connor’s brow furrowed at the voice, uncertain he heard it right. Peeking out over his blanket he asked, “Kyle?”
Kyle grinned back. “Knock knock. Heard you’re a bit under the weather.” He was glowing faintly. Oh, right- his ring could protect him from Connor’s germs. Made sense.
Taking the silence as permission to enter the room, Kyle stepped in, making a detour to pull the blinds over the window (and oh, the shade felt so much better than all that bright, stabbing light) before going to Connor’s bedside. He placed a hand on the archer’s forehead, apparently using his ring to check Connor’s temperature. “Little high,” he said, “but not too bad.” He took the time to brush curls of blonde hair back, then picked up the heating pad- now lukewarm -from where it fell to the side. “Hot?”
“Yes,” Connor muttered before coughing. He reached out to blow his nose. Somehow having Kyle there made him feel even more disgusting than he already did. Kyle, in contrast, didn’t seem to care. He unwrapped a cough drop and pressed it into Connor’s palm, then had his ring scoop up all the discarded tissues and empty bottles into a trash bin.
“When do you need to take your medicine again?” He asked, a tendril of green light snaked out the room and down the hall. It eventually came back with more water bottles and a warmed heating pad.
“Um, not for another hour or two, I think.”
“How about some food, then?”
Wariness came over him again. “What kind of food?”
From the twist on Kyle’s lips, it was obvious he was trying not to whap Connor’s shoulder. “I called up your mom before coming over to ask what you usually ate when you were sick. She made some soup and rice for you.”
Connor blinked, the pressure in his head easing from the heating pad. “Soup?”
“Yeah, some weird seaweed stuff that actually doesn’t smell too bad.”
“You brought me soup my mom made? From across the country?” There was something about that Connor couldn’t seem to comprehend.
“Yeah. Why? Don’t actually like it? I was going to bring some lentil soup, but I figured you’d rather have homemade mom-soup, so-“
“I love you.” Connor blurted out.
Kyle stared at Connor for a moment. Then he smiled, warmth and affection in his eyes. “Well, good to know we’re on the same page.”
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no subject
Date: 2010-03-25 09:32 pm (UTC)Thanks for sharing.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-26 01:37 am (UTC)