OOM: Autor is sick and Lohengrin helps

[herr_bookman]

Autor stumbled three times on the way to his room, blushing horribly and shivering all the while. Lohengrin insisted on catching the boy, but it still took a moment for Autor to process that the Knight was planning to help him all the way to his room.

After a moment of mulling it over, Autor unlocks the door from the key on a chain around his neck.

Autor's room is sparse and Spartan. There's a desk with knitting piled on one corner and quills on the other. Blazers hang in his closet. A tea kettle rests on his nightstand, and Autor leans towards the comfortable-looking bed.

What he does have, however, are books. Piles of books line the walls and fill the closet where his clothes aren't. Books cover the floor under the bed. A haphazard pile threatens to fall on the desk chair.

The boy feels he should tidy up, perhaps, and takes a few steps towards the desk, turning away from the bed.

Comments

[knightoftheswan]

The Knight sighs.

"Wait."

[herr_bookman]

Autor turns his head to him, slowly to prevent being dizzy, and shivers again. "Yes?"

[knightoftheswan]

Lohengrin folds his arms.

"Do you honestly want to collapse on your desk? I'm sure your work won't appreciate that."

[herr_bookman]

"Oh," Autor says meekly, glancing to his shoes. That damn blush is back. "I suppose it's not the right time to tidy up."

He carefully steps to the bed and perches on the edge, holding his throbbing head in his hands. "Thanks, Lohengrin. For helping me up here."

[knightoftheswan]

"You were going to tidy? But what on earth for?"

At least he's laughing softly about it.

"Here, you can tidy through prevention. Can you take your shoes off? You'll like the bed better without them."

[herr_bookman]

Autor nods--and rewards himself with a burst of wooziness slicing through the fog. He removes his boots and socks, curling his feet under him. "I regret to say I'm not in a position to offer you some tea."

[knightoftheswan]

"We will be backwards, then, the guest offering hospitality."

The Knight rolls his sleeves up and steps further in the room. He locates the bathroom, glad for staying here long enough to understand modern faucets. Autor can likely hear him running water in the sink.

[herr_bookman]

"What on earth are you doing?" Autor says, leaning so far forward, he almost falls off the bed. Shivering, he rights himself.

[knightoftheswan]

The water stops, and the Knight emerges with a wrung out rag.

"Fetching this," he answers. "It will likely work better if you lie down."

[herr_bookman]

Oh, what? Oh, no! Autor thinks, groggy. His look of surprise is quickly overridden by a yawn, and he removes his glasses to rub at his eyes. He shakes his head--dizzy again, damn--and lays down, as instructed, blush rioting on his already ruddy cheeks.

[knightoftheswan]

Lohengrin steps closer to the bed, folding the rag over in his hands.

"Would you like me to cover your eyes with this, too?"

[herr_bookman]

"If you like," Autor says, blush burning a trail down to his collarbone. His voice is roughened by dehydration. "I wouldn't have thought of a wet rag. Thanks."

[knightoftheswan]

"Well, that is what friends are for."

He carefully covers Autor's forehead and eyes with the cool, damp cloth.

"How's that?"

[herr_bookman]

Autor shivers again, chills rocking his thin frame. He presses his fingertips to the rag. "That's... That's nice," he says, surprised. "How are you, by the way? I really did want to know."

[knightoftheswan]

Lohengrin sighs a fond sigh.

"I'm doing all right, Autor. And I'll be right back."

His footsteps head to the bathroom again, and water drips ring out as he takes another cloth. The steps approach the bed again.

"I've brought another for your mouth and neck," he explains.

[herr_bookman]

Autor chuckles, closing his eyes under the rag and resting his sore hands on his belly. "Oh, no, I won't be able to talk at all! Or is that your dastardly plan?"

[knightoftheswan]

He laughs a little louder.

"Is that all it takes? 'Here, hold this rag to your mouth.' No, it's because you sound parched."

He loosely drapes the cloth on Autor's neck.

[herr_bookman]

"Oh," Autor says sheepishly, curling his toes once the cold, wet rag strikes his neck. He manages a small grin, with chapped lips. "I suppose I am parched. That tea didn't do me much good."

[knightoftheswan]

"Poor unappreciated water," he jokes, pulling the edge of the rag just over Autor's mouth. "I imagine you are nothing but tea inside."

[herr_bookman]

Autor sucks on the edge of the rag, and then speaks again. "Actually, I've been told to stop drinking so much of it," he says. "It makes me anemic to have too much."

He drinks too much and then he swoons, which is what he did on Lohengrin today--something he'd conveniently blocked out already. Rather than wallow in his embarrassment, he turns his head, careful not to let the rags slip. "Where did you learn all of this?"

[knightoftheswan]

"Mother. I had to pick it up sooner or later. She couldn't take care of me forever, after all.

"How are you feeling, by the by?"

[herr_bookman]

"That was kind of her," Autor says, and closes his eyes again to deal with a surge of dizziness. "I'm actually feeling much better, thank you. Your help is invaluable to me."

[knightoftheswan]

Lohengrin hums, giving Autor an unseen nod.

"You can rest. I can stay if you like, or I can leave."

[herr_bookman]

Autor has an irrational yearning for Lohengrin to stay, and tries to figure out whether it's irrational at all. He is my friend, after all. And I like spending time in his presence.

"Would you?" he asks, licking his lips. "Stay, I mean. There's a chair by the desk."

[knightoftheswan]

"Certainly."

Steps tap away to the desk, and then the chair dully scrapes against the floor to sit next to the bed. The Knight eases himself down.

"I did say I would provide a safe place for you."