herr_bookman | OOM: Snug as a bug in a rug

Sick again! Autor thinks, betrayed by his ridiculous immune system. He's shaky and sweaty and generally ill, the recognizable flu parking him in bed.

But he refuses to stay there. He can't go downstairs, or Katya will laugh at him, but he's not about to be bedridden, even as weak as he is. So he glances through his to do lists for something to do in his room before sneaking downstairs.

Once there, Autor has a strange shopping list for Bar. Feverish, the boy glances around furtively for Katya, placing his order in a whisper.

He soon codes into his sylladex: two table tops, four legs, four white cushions, a drill, screws, angle brackets, a small heater, a measuring tape, a saw, and a large navy blue plaid comforter with white accents.

The boy skitters upstairs with his bounty, drawing everything out of his sylladex and setting the materials up near his bed. He feeds Etude, who insists on rubbing up against his legs for petting, and takes a few moments to blow his nose several times. Then he flips one of the tabletops over and finds the center with a measuring tape, marking it with a pencil. Autor sets the kotatsu heater up with the brackets, and colors in the holes he needs to make.

Then he plugs in the drill.

"Whoa!" the boy says, shocked at how it vibrates in his hand when he pulls the trigger. Etude scrambles away from him as if his little butt is on fire. With a grin, Autor buzzes himself a few more times before getting to work. Coughing into his sleeve, he familiarizes himself with the manual that came with the drill, figuring out how the bits work.

Autor finds drilling to be stupidly fun. The tabletop rattles a little, and he places his boot on it. Sniffling, he maintains a light pressure on the drill until he realizes he needs more. The holes don't take long, and soon he replaces the drill bit to start applying the screws. He attaches the heater and the four legs--one of them backwards at first. Then he realizes he has yet to cut the legs down, and grumbles as he unscrews the work he just did.

Sawing is not nearly as fun as drilling. The process takes forever and a day, and his arm is sore by the halfway mark. Not to mention there's now dust in his room, which is enough to drive both him and his poor cat into a sneezing fit. Autor takes a break after each leg, resentfully curling up in bed to rest. Soon, however, he's attaching the legs to the tabletop with his favorite power tool again.

The boy plugs the heater in, testing it, and unplugs it when he's satisfied with its output. He screws a hook in the corner of the table to hold the cable. Autor suffers a coughing fit before flipping the table, and spreads the comforter on top before adding the second table top to keep the blanket still. Then he sits on one of the cushions on the floor, and sticks his legs underneath the comforter, turning on the heater.

"Oh," he says, when he warms up, the temperature doing wonders for his chills and soreness. Etude crawls into his lap, melting into a purring ball of fluff under the heat. "This is the best idea I have ever had."