Honey and Lemon



"I can't smell you." Jim sniffed, followed by a sloppily explosive sneeze that had Blair backing to the far end of the couch. "I can't smell you, I can barely hear you, and I can't taste anything. I kiss you and all I get is cough syrup."

"Not a problem," Blair told him. Jim's mouth was too close to his reddened, leaking nose to be appealing, and although it was a nice theory, oral sex didn't cure sore throats. Not really. "Not for me, anyway. The last time we did that, you sneezed in my hair. It was gross."

Jim gave him a betrayed look and sneezed again, managing to make it sound reproachful.

"Touch," Blair offered. He moved closer and grabbed Jim's hand. "See? Nothing stopping you from touching me… or looking."

Jim blew his nose. "Give me something to look at, then. Going crazy stuck in here for three days."

"You're going --? Never mind." For a man who shrugged off bullet wounds, blindness, and bruises, Jim had caved surprisingly quickly to the onslaught of a cold. A cold Blair had given him, which Jim was only mentioning a few times a day now, in a more in sorrow than in anger kind of way.

Blair tucked his feet up and chewed his lip, thinking. "I could get naked." That had to beat chicken soup or reruns.

"Seen it." Jim cleared his throat as Blair gave him an outraged glare. "Not that it isn't nice, Chief. It's just… familiar."

"My naked body is familiar?"

"Find a square inch I haven't licked," Jim said, sounding more morose than suggestive. "Look, when I'm better --"

"Oh, so you're not dying any more? Because yesterday when I said it was just a matter of time, you threw a book at me."

"I don't remember that."

"I could show you the mark it left."

"I was feverish," Jim decided. "As I was saying; when I'm better, with all my senses working the way they're supposed to, your body will be top of my to-do list. Right now, it's just not going to do the job. I'm bored."

"Oh, man, you're just --" Blair waved his hands in an effort to get over just how impossible Jim was being and decided he'd need to be an octopus to get the message across. "Next time you're sick, I'm moving out. Staying in a hotel or something until the coast's clear and you're back to normal."

"I am normal." Jim sounded affronted. "I've just got a cold. A cold you --"

"Gave you. Yeah, I know." Blair grimaced. "I didn't have it this bad, though. It hit you and mutated or something. I should look into that --"

"No, you shouldn't. And you're not moving anywhere."

"I'm not?"

Jim's hands were warm around Blair's wrists. Maybe the guy did still have a fever -- or maybe not. "Staying right here, Chief."

Okay, that was close to sweet. Kissing him started to seem like a better idea. Maybe if he closed his eyes…

Jim sneezed again. Blair wiped his face and sighed, backing away.



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