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It was winter time, and that of course meant sickness was afoot.
To be entirely fair, Augustine was sure Winnie’s aversion to typical winter coats had something to do with it. The blond had cited that he hated the way the material felt, and that it was overstimulating, which Augustine supposed was reasonable. Even still, he couldn’t really be shocked when that small quirk about his boyfriend made him vulnerable to the illnesses that had a tendency to meddle about during the winter.
He’d been in the kitchen one morning, making himself coffee and preparing for the day he and Winnie had ahead. He could hear as his boyfriend stumbled into the room, nearly crumbling into a chair at their counter.
Augustine turned in time to see Winnie lean his forehead against the counter, sighing heavily. Concerned, the brunette gently reached over and began slowly brushing his fingers through Winnie's hair as he asked, "You alright, Winn?"
Winnie hummed affirmatively, but he didn't verbally answer, instead leaning into Augustine's hand while keeping his face down. Augustine continued gently petting his hair, prompting, "Are you sure? You look kind of sick. I don’t want you to push yourself if you’re unwell."
The blond didn't answer, promptly Augustine to sigh and attempt to ask, "If you aren’t gonna talk, can you at least look at me so I can check your temperature, please?"
Of course, now Winnie responded, whining quietly and refusing to look up as he muttered, "Noo..."
"Pretty please, Winn," Augustine begged, “It’d be so helpful. I need to know if you have a fever or not.”
Winnie didn’t move, promting Augustine to sigh dramatically, withdrawing his hand from Winnie's hair as he mused, "Well, I guess I better go and be sad and stop messing with your hair, if you hate me that much..."
At that, the blond grumbled incoherently, finally looking up at Augustine to glare at him hazily. His skin was flushed, his eyes blurry and seemingly slightly unfocused. He definitely wasn’t well, even if he didn’t have a fever. Augustine quietly made note of the fact they weren’t going to be out that day,
"There's my beautiful boyfriend. Knew that would work," Augustine hummed teasingly, reaching over and pressing a hand to Winnie's forehead before he could object.
He hissed quietly at the high fever Winnie had, humming sympathetically, "God, Winn, you must feel awful. You really should go back to sleep."
Despite his earlier refusal, the man practically melted against Augustine's hand, mumbling nearly unintelligibly, "We'had... plans t'day..."
"Whatever plans we had aren't as important as your health," Augustine promised, moving his hand to be cupping Winnie's cheek as he pressed a kiss atop his mess of blond hair, “Stay here, ‘kay? I’m gonna go get the thermometer."
Winnie whined as Augustine let go of him, clumsily attempting to catch Augustine's wrist before he could leave, though he failed. Augustine’s heart ached in guilt and sympathy, but he stood and continued on his mission.
Though he returned only a few moments later, Winnie latched onto him as though he’d been gone for years, the man slumping against his side and wrapping his arms around Augustine with a quiet whine. Augustine huffed fondly, returning the embrace with one arm as he hummed, “Can I check your temperature, moonlight?”
Winnie whined once more, void of any verbal response. Though it took a bit of coaxing, he eventually managed to get Winnie to cooperate, glancing over the numbers returned to him and sighing as he said, "39.16. We’re not going anywhere today.”
Winnie whined quietly, looking up at Augustine as he whispered, “ ‘M s-s’rry.”
“Hey, no need to be sorry,” Augustine promised, “You just take it easy today.”
“B-but ‘M supp’sed t-to… do chores’an stuff t’day… an’ we g’tta go places…” Winnie mumbled, sluggishly attempting to duck out of Augustine’s arms but immediately getting placated by Augustine cupping the blond’s face in his hand once more. He practically went limp in the brunette’s grasp, eyes drifting closed as he leaned his face against his hand with a quiet sigh.
“How come you only ever try to be productive when you’re ill and shouldn’t be productive?” Augustine teased, lightly drifting his thumb over Winnie’s cheek.
Winnie whined quietly, and Augustine carefully pressed a kiss to his forehead, humming gently, “If I ask really nicely, will you rest for the day?”
Winnie muttered something incoherently, slowly cracking one eye open to look at Augustine before closing it again and mumbling, “…m’ybe.”
“Then, will you pretty please cooperate and relax?” Augustine repeated.
The blond went quiet for a considerable minute before moving away from Augustine’s hand and instead nuzzling against his side, asking, “…’re you s’re y’don’ mind not doin’ th’stuff we were g’nna do?”
“I’m sure.”
“…mkay then.”
Augustine smiled, pressing a kiss to Winnie’s forehead as he hummed, “Thank you, Winn. Do you want me to brush your hair? It's really knotted, and I know you like it when I mess with your hair. It’ll be a nice distraction, yeah?"
“Yes, please,” Winnie whispered.
"Alright, do you think you can sit up? I can-" Augustine started.
Before he could even offer to help, he was cut off by Winnie shoving himself upright, almost immediately swaying and catching Augustine's arm to remain upright.
"Woah, you okay?" Augustine asked, quickly putting his free arm behind Winnie to help support him.
Winnie nodded, mumbling, " 'M.. dizzy."
Augustine hummed, offering, "Do you think sitting on the floor and leaning against the couch would be easier?"
Winnie seemed to think about it before nodding slightly, muttering, "...pr'b'bly."
"Alright, let's do that then, I'll help you," Augustine smiled.
He carefully managed to help Winnie to the floor, the blond thankfully getting less unsteady once he had a solid item behind him. Augustine stood, promptly setting off to their bathroom to find Winnie’s hairbrush.
When he returned, he found Winnie barely awake, curled up in his jacket and gazing into nothing. He quietly noted that it likely wouldn’t take long for the blond to fall asleep.
With that, he moved back into his spot, carefully starting to brush as he said, “Alright, I’m trying to be careful, but let me know if I accidentally hurt you, okay?”
Winnie sighed contentedly the second Augustine started working through his hair, nodding and mumbling, "Th'nk you, Auggie. 'M sorry I mess'd up our'plans."
“Stop apologizing, Winn. I swear to the moon and back it’s perfectly fine,” Augustine promised, “We can always move our plans back. Your health takes priority.”
“ ‘re y’sure?” Winnie whispered, eyes tracing over Augustine’s face for any sign of deceit.
“I’m one billion percent positive.”
Winnie hummed softly, leaning back against Augustine’s hands as he mumbled, “…m’kay, I believe you.”
Augustine smiled, continuing to work through his hair.
It didn’t take long for Winnie to slowly go limp against him, his breathing evening out as he slowly drifted off to sleep. Augustine didn’t stop working, carefully making his way through every last knot and tangle in the blond’s hair. Once Augustine had finished and was sure he wouldn’t wake him up, he slowly maneuvered himself onto his feet, carefully scooping his boyfriend into his arms before lying him down on the couch.
After pressing a careful kiss to his forehead, he left him to sleep.