Kit Connor Imagines

summary: kit is sick, so you take care of him

Credits go to xDumb0bitchx

This is not how Kit had planned to spend his day. As he sat in bed, sniffling and stuffing tissues up his runny nose, he thought of all the things he could have done today if it wasn't for this stupid cold.

Kit had tried oh so desperately to take his attention off of the throbbing pain caused by his head by watching television, but it was no good.

The blinds were down and he could barely see a hand before his face as he shifted uncomfortably in the bed he shares with his partner, Y/n.

Being sick was always a hell for Kit, he was unsuccessfully trying to find some position that wouldn't make his body ache everywhere.

The apartment door opened, which Kit could luckily hear over the sound of his own throbbing puls, something that had surprised him a lot.

"Kit, I'm home." Y/n's soft voice called, luckily she didn't shout because Kit is not sure he could survive any loud noise today.

His tries to form a respond were useless, only ending up with him in another coughing fir.

That's when he heard footsteps echoing on their apartment floor, a familiar sound he had grown to love a long time ago.

Y/n's POV:

"Hey love." Kit's voice sounded bad; rough and scratchy. His nose and eyes a burning shade of red, tissues laying all around him.

The concern washes over me in a matter of seconds and I move to get closer to him. "Are you not any better than when I left this morning?" My eyebrows are furrowed and my hands rest on his forehead.

Before I can think too much, a sigh leaves my mouth and I take a closer look at him. "Have you eaten anything at all?"

His eyes meet mine and he slowly shakes his head, looking down again. "My body hurt so much and I completely blocked out the fact that I have to eat something."

I feel myself raising to my feet, still looking at Kit. "I'll make you some soup and don't you dare say that you don't want any."

While in the kitchen, I try to remember the things I would've done as a child when I had a cold. The soup is finished rather fast and I put it on a tray with a glass of water and medications.

"Thank you, love." He smiles at me, lips slightly pressed together. While Kit was eating his soup I move to the closet, changing into something more comfortable since I planned on heading to bed. Silently, the fatigue overcoming me, I lay down next to him with my arms wrapped around him like a blanket.

"I'm sorry that I got you sick." The room is entirely silent as I speak up and Kit turns to look at me, his soup long finished. "Don't be, love. I decided to stay closer to you than I should have."

There had been previous issues with us getting sick because we infected the other one. When one of us was sick, the other one always took care of everything, including the sick person. If that wasn't begging for the spread of a virus, then the cuddles you shared, whether someone was sick or not, definitely were.