Archive of Our Own

It all started with a cough.

Roman Pearce wasn’t what anyone would describe as ‘domestic’. He liked fast cars, pretty people, and great food. He wasn’t known to play husband or do any cutesy shit like putting furniture together.

Yet, there he was sitting on the floor of Eric’s humble apartment, putting together a coffee table. It wasn’t like the Agent couldn’t do it himself, but unfortunately for Roman, the older man lost a bet, and he always covered his bets.

The two, who’d been bickering since the moment they met, made a wager a week ago. Roman, ever the cocky speed racer, bet Eric he couldn’t beat him in a 1-on-1 down the test way. Tej and Ramsey had been testing out new equipment that allowed their army of drones to detach from their cars. The others didn’t have anything to do, so they’d just been sitting around watching when the betting started.

It began with Rome and Brian, as most things did. The smirking blonde goaded his brother into a series of increasingly dumber bets. Hobbs and Dom looked on like it was nothing new, and it really wasn’t. Letty was more interested in what Ramsey and Tej were doing, since they started with her car. Eric was the only one really paying attention to the idiots, mostly because he was worried they would break something he’d have to fill out paperwork for later.

Dom could see the young agent’s aborted movements every time Roman or Brian balanced something expensive-looking off a drone. He chuckled under his breath when his lover showed off everything he got to stand upright on the wing of the million-dollar death machine. Brian got bored easily, and when he was in the mood to mess around, his partner-in-crime was always ready to match his energy.

Dom glanced back at Little Nobody and shook his head; the kid was gonna have to learn someday. Their family was eclectic, and these little things were what kept them loose and ready for the unhinged shit that happened during their day jobs. 

Eventually, the terrible two started performing increasingly more dangerous stunts in the name of the game, so Dom pulled Brian to his side before Eric had an aneurysm. There was no need for the guy to keel over when they weren’t even out in the field.

Hobbs caught his eye knowingly when Eric subtly exhaled, visibly relaxing. Dom shrugged as he listened to Brian jabber on about an upgrade Little Nobody approved for one of his Skylines.

After losing his usual chaos twin, Roman decided pestering Eric was the next best thing. The ebony-skinned man liked simple pleasures, and one of them was to terrorize their resident Agent until the kid broke. Most of the time, the brunette gave as good as he got, but it often depended on the day.

Roman tried to goad him into the same betting competition that he and Brian had been in, but the other man was unfazed. That was, until the chamer started insinuating he could beat Eric at a race with his eyes closed.

The infamous twitch that showed up whenever Roman truly got under Eric’s skin was going crazy. Dom, Brian, and Letty watched the exchange. Tej and Ramsey were finished with their testing, so they tuned in just as Little Nobody finally gave in and accepted the bet.

With Dom and Hobbs’ blessings, Eric and Roman got in their cars. Brian stepped up to tie a blindfold around his best friend’s head. The test way was a straight track, so even if Roman veered in either direction, Eric could easily compensate and get out of the way in time.

Dom approached Eric’s window with raised eyebrows.

“What?” Eric asked without looking away from the road. Anyone who knew him could see the minute tension in his hands as they squeezed around the steering wheel of his BRZ.

“You gotta relax, kid.” Dom leaned down so Eric could hear him over the roar of Rome gassing his engine.

“I am relaxed.”

Dom watched as the younger man obsessively checked the interior of his car. He noticed it the first time he saw Eric drive. It was like he had a manual in his head that he had to go over before he did anything. That wasn’t the way any of them drove, and it shouldn’t be the way Little Nobody drove either, at least, not if he wanted to get any better.

The kid had been working with Dom and Brian on more innate driving. He mostly pestered Dom when Brian was busy with something, but he had to admit, the brunette had improved.

“Look, you know how Rome drives,” Dom said. They all knew how Roman drove, and he honestly didn’t have a lot of hope for Eric, but the other man was going to be blindfolded, so maybe there was a chance.

“He throttles fast and saves any juice for the final stretch.” Eric recited like he was reading a playbook.

“Exactly, so if you wanna win, you’re gonna have to trick him.”

That got Eric to look at him, finally. His face said he thought Dom might be on something. Dom shrugged and pointed over to where Brian and Rome were laughing like shit was sweet.

“He’s going to have that blindfold on, so the only way he’ll know if he won is if he feels the end of the test way. He won’t know where the final stretch is unless he counts.”

Eric glanced at his opponent before looking back at the Leader of Team Toretto. “Counts?”

“There’s about twenty seconds of straight-away before the speed bumps start. We usually know we’ve hit the final stretch fifty seconds in at top speeds for most of our cars.” Dom said, like it was common knowledge. Eric couldn’t figure out if any of them knew that calculating their position on the track by counting the seconds before the speed bumps wasn’t something normal people did. 

“Don’t think about that, just think about gunning your engine about ten yards from the final stretch. If you can trick him into thinking you’ve already reached it, he’ll gun his, and blow through any juice he has left before hittin’ the line.”

Eric, from a few months ago, before the team started accepting him as one of their own, would’ve never believed or listened to Dom’s advice. Current Eric just stared at his leader and nodded.

Dom patted him on the head like he would a particularly stubborn pet and left him to it. Regardless of the unseriousness of the race, they were still street racers at heart. Letty grabbed a piece of red cloth and took her position between the two cars.

Brain flicked Roman on the forehead and went to stand beside Dom. The older man automatically wrapped an arm around the blonde’s waist.

Eric looked over at Roman one more time before locking in. Nerves filled his stomach like usual at the thought of racing one of the team for any kind of stake. He took a deep breath and tried to remember what Dom told him.

He could trick Roman. Despite the other man’s superior driving skills, Eric was a seasoned Spook; lying was his whole thing. 

The chatter from their team died down as Letty checked in with both drivers. Rome was still acting too cocky for Eric’s liking, even blindfolded. Letty started counting down, and everything else dropped away. It was only Eric, Roman, and the road.

Finally, Letty dropped the flag, and they were off.

Eric wanted to believe that all his checks and balances had a purpose. That he hadn’t lived his whole life, including his extensive time in the FBI and The Agency, just fucking around with useless, unnecessary routines.

The second his tires hit the speed bumps, a full car length ahead of Roman’s SRT, Eric considered throwing his whole rulebook out the window.

He won. He couldn’t believe he won. Sure, Roman was blindfolded, and Eric used Dom’s advice to trick the other man around forty-five seconds in, but Eric didn’t set the terms.

The brunette watched the other man tear his blindfold off the second he hit the speed bumps. Eric expected him to pout or start immediately complaining about the unfairness of the race. Instead, Rome caught his eyes and nodded like he’d passed some sort of test.

A warm feeling invaded the Agent’s chest. He wasn’t sure if it was the winning or the proud look on Roman’s face when their eyes met. He drove back to the starting line, and the warm feeling got bigger when he saw his teammates laughing and cheering on his win.

He got out of the car a second before Roman drove up next to him. Brian tackled him in a hug. He laughed, accepting the squeeze. Dom was next to congratulate him, a knowing look on his face, which the Agent returned with a good-natured eye roll. Of course, Dominic Toretto was right about a thing involving racing. Lying was his thing; winning races was Dom’s.

Roman hopped out of his car, also getting tackled-hugged by Brian, but that swiftly turned into a headlock that almost had them wrestling on the ground. Hobbs grabbed the back of Roman’s jacket, while Tej held Brian back. Anyone who didn’t know them would think they were actually fighting, but Brian’s manic grin and Roman’s grumbling told a different story.

Once they settled down and everyone moved off to work on other projects after congratulating their Agent, Eric and Rome were the only two left.

Roman scuffed the ground with the tip of his shoe. It was like he was trying to work up the nerve to say something. It was an odd sight, because Roman Pearce had never struggled with finding something smart to say.

“I guess I owe you, Rules.” Roman finally got out. He was looking past Eric, but his face was doing something weird. His lips quivered to tamp down a smile, while his eyes said he was already bored with the conversation.

“I guess you do,” Eric replied. He was way past correcting them whenever they called him something other than his name. Rules. Little Nobody. GQ. Kid. It didn’t really matter to him anymore. It took him a while, but he got that it was their way of showing affection.

Roman looked at him then, his eyes changing from bored to their familiar amused. “Need driving lessons?”

Eric couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from his lips. “I just smoked you. I think I’m good there.”

The younger man could see the argument forming on the other’s tongue. There was a moment the peaceful ribbing could have turned annoying, but it quickly passed.

Rome shook his head, “Well, there’s only so many things I’m good at, so take your pick, Pretty Boy.”

Eric thought for a moment. There were tons of embarrassing things he could ask Roman to do. It’s possible the older man would just roll his eyes and tell him to fuck off.

“You any good at putting furniture together?”

Roman’s eyebrows shot up as he shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”

At that, he turned away and trudged back toward the Toy Shop. Eric’s eyes followed him until he was gone. He glanced at his car, a smile creeping back. He won.

After a moment, he followed the others inside, but his steps stuttered when he thought back on what Roman said.

‘Oh,’ he thought, pausing on the test way. ‘Pretty Boy is new.’

He hoped the blush rushing up his neck would die down before anyone saw it. 

Which was why Roman Pearce found himself in Little Nobody’s apartment putting together a heavy, wooden coffee table. The Agent in question was curled up on his couch with a book in his lap.

Rome didn’t know what book it was, and he couldn’t even check because every time he looked at the other man, he got entranced by the glasses slipping off the tip of his nose.

Eric wore glasses. That was something Rome could have gone his entire life without knowing, because why did they make him even cuter? They hadn’t said much besides trading barbs back and forth. It was the only thing saving the usually suave man from truly embarrassing himself. 

Rome complained that it took too long for the brunette to set a date, and Eric complained that Roman was impatient and that he couldn’t help his job.

The older man was impatient, but mostly because he’d been wanting to see the man for the last week, but he couldn’t, because The Agency sent him on a mission without them.

The team’s faces were heartbreaking when Mr. Nobody showed up at the Toy Shop and told them Eric would be indisposed for a few days.

Little Nobody, who absolutely expected to continue going on missions despite his involvement with Team Toretto, was fascinated by the team’s range of emotions at the news.

Brain was the most outwardly upset about it. In the short time since he’d joined the team, he’d undoubtedly gotten the closest with the blonde trouble magnet. Brain treated him like a little brother, which Eric didn’t mind at all. Because of that, Dom, Letty, and Tej all treated him like that, too, but just not as much.

Hobbs and sometimes Shaw, if he was in town, treated Eric like the extension of The Agency, that he was. Hobbs was closer to a reluctant colleague, and Shaw was closer to an obstinate pen pal who asked Eric to stay out of his way whenever he was nearby.

He wasn’t close to Ramsey, or Mia for that matter, when she’d surprise them with a visit, but when they did have one-on-one time, it was always pleasant.

The only person Eric couldn’t figure out, in terms of his presence, was Roman Pearce. He thought they were friends, sort of. He didn’t feel the same way about Rome as he did about Brian, Dom, or Tej.

Roman felt like a different animal altogether. He drove the brunette insane, but he also wanted to be around him the most. He mouthed off constantly, but he also soothed a part of Eric’s brain that felt like it was always on fire most of the time.

All the reactions to his leaving for a few days confused him, but none more so than Roman Pearce.

Wounded brown eyes met his as he stood at attention next to Mr. Nobody. They cut deep into the younger man’s chest. Eric didn’t have to explain anything to any of them, but the way Rome was looking at him made him want to beg for forgiveness and promise to come back.

He didn’t do either of those things.

So, he’d been gone for a week. Four days more than they thought he’d be away. It was due to poor planning and even worse execution. After the mission went south, Eric started feeling very grateful for his team and hoped he would be back with them soon.

There were a few missteps: a lite kidnapping, a little beating, and getting injected with a mysterious substance. All in all, not the worst mission he’d ever been on.

When he finally got home, he crashed for fifteen hours straight and woke up with a headache. After cleaning himself up, eating, and making sure his apartment was in order, he called the one person he knew would answer on the first ring.

Roman picked up immediately.

Eric hemmed and hawed for a while, not sure how to report that he was in one piece to a person he wasn’t sure would care. It contradicted his earlier confidence that Roman would pick up when he called, no matter what, but he didn’t make the rules; his brain did.

He wouldn’t exactly call Rome sensitive when it came to emotional maturity, but for some reason, he got what the other man was trying to say. After confirming the Agent was still alive, he all but invited himself over to put together whatever furniture needed assembling.

Normally, after a mission, Eric liked to spend a few days reordering his life. He was only gone a week, but even that was longer than he expected to be out. His fridge was empty, his apartment smelled stale, and he knew some of the bruises from the mission were getting worse.

There was, however, no stopping Roman once he put his mind to something. He showed up at the brunette’s apartment twenty minutes later with Coronas, a pizza, and a tool belt. The image was so absurd he couldn’t help but laugh.

Rome looked like he accomplished his own mission while taking in the figure that’d caused him so much worry. As he stepped inside the apartment, he took a moment to study the younger man. Their Agent looked worse for wear. Bruises peeked out from underneath his sleeves and shirt collar, and one particularly nasty one was on his neck. He looked paler than normal and had dark circles under his eyes, but he was alive, and that’s all Rome wanted.

“So, where’s this big, bad furniture you need me to take care of, man?” Roman set the stuff he brought on the kitchen counter. He’d never been to Eric’s apartment before; he was pretty sure none of them had. He was feeling some type of way about being the first person invited into the other man’s space, even if he’d basically invited himself.

“It’s not big or bad, you dick. The point of the bet was to make you do something I didn’t want to do.”

Eric watched Roman move around, not touching anything, but studying everything. He felt splayed open at someone he didn’t know that well going through his stuff, even if it was just with his eyes.

He was also sure he heard Rome mummer something about Eric thinking about his dick, but he elected to ignore whatever he said for sanity reasons.

Roman spent some time looking over his record collection and then his books, before settling on the chessboard he always had going, mid-game, by his window seat. That earned him a look.

Eric didn’t even want to imagine the reaction the full gaming PC setup in his office would warrant. He shrugged like, ‘What are you gonna do?’

That was enough of whatever Roman was looking for. He also spotted the box containing the coffee table Eric had yet to put together. He’d gotten it a few weeks ago, but with everything going on at work, he hadn’t had the chance to assemble it.

“This it?” Roman looked at the picture and then glanced at the coffee table already in the middle of the room. “You know that-”

“Yes, I know it’s the same table.”

He wanted to ask, Eric knew he wanted to ask, but some unseen force stopped the other man in his tracks. Maybe Eric looked worse than he felt.

“Alright, well, you just sit back and look pretty. I’ll have this done in no time.” Roman grinned in his direction, but got busy with the table before the younger man could address the ‘look pretty’ comment.  

Eric shook his head and went to find something safe to do. That saw him trying not to pay attention to the noises Roman was making as he moved the surprisingly heavy pieces of his new coffee table around. He was sitting on his couch, trying to finish a book he’d been reading for months, only to get stuck on the same paragraph because, what does he even need to grunt like that for?

Roman hadn’t been saying too much, obviously focused on the task at hand, but he did try to make small talk; after all but forcing Eric to eat. They quickly dissolved into bickering, but Eric didn’t mind. He adjusted his glasses up his nose, forgetting how terribly they fit his face. He needed to make an appointment to get them adjusted or just get new ones altogether.

That’s when it happened. He was in the middle of the same sentence he just read, when he couldn’t hold back a small cough.

It was nothing, barely a stuttered exhale, but not to Roman.

“What was that?” The other man asked mid-hammer.

“What?” Eric asked, pushing the wire-rimmed frames up again in a futile attempt to straighten them out.

“What you mean, ‘what’?” Rome squinted at him. “Did you just cough?”

“No.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“No, I didn’t,” Eric argued, even as another cough burned its way up his throat.

“You sick?” Roman put the tools down and stood with his hands on his hips.

If they weren’t mid-argument, Eric would probably find something funny about the way Rome was standing there like a hen clucking at their hatchling.

“I’m not sick, I’m probably just a little dehydrated.” Eric waved a hand, dismissing the idea of being compromised. “I don’t get sick.”

“Sure, GQ,” Roman picked up another piece of the coffee table. “And I vacation at a silent retreat every summer.”

“What?”

“I’ll take ‘things that are impossible' for one hundred, Alex.” Roman rolled his eyes as he fit two more pieces together. “Everyone gets sick.”

“Yeah, well, not me.” Maybe if he turned the page, he could pick up context clues.

Roman scoffed but said nothing else about it. Eric tried to stifle as many coughs as he could. He hadn’t been lying to the other man. He didn’t usually get sick. His immune system probably took a hit while he was on the mission, but he also hadn’t drunk anything but a Corona in the last few days. If anything, he just needed a Gatorade or something.

An hour later, Roman was done with his new coffee table, and they’d moved it into place where his old table was. Rome shook his head again as they took the old table to the curb, Eric placing a sign on it that said it was free.

After the bet was over, Eric didn’t really know what to do. He didn’t mind Roman in his space, but the other man had spent almost two hours putting a coffee table together. There was a chance he didn’t want to hang out any longer than they had to.

He struggled with it all the way back to his apartment. Color him surprised when Rome grabbed two Coronas and crashed out on his couch. He held a bottle out to Eric and asked if he knew of any good movies.

Turned out, Eric didn’t need to worry; Roman already had it.

Eric was off for the next two days. The doctors wouldn’t clear him until they were sure the mystery shot wouldn’t give him extra limbs or something.

The team moved on without him, antsy about his return, but just as happy to pepper Roman with an unending number of questions.

‘What’s his place like?’, ‘Where does he live?’ ‘Was he a boxers or briefs guy?’, and that last one got Tej punched.

They felt uneasy when Mr. Nobody arrived on the third day, even though Little Nobody should’ve been back.

“Where’s the kid?” Dom asked, fiddling with a socket wrench. He was tuning his charger when the Senior Agent walked down the stairs.

That alerted everyone to Mr. Nobody’s presence. Roman’s face dropped into a deep frown. He was looking forward to seeing his favorite Agent. He had a good time the day he went over to satisfy the terms of their bet, and he missed their usual antics. 

“Yeah, so, the Kid’s going to be out for a while longer,” Mr. Nobody said heavily, coming to stand next to the holotable. 

“Why?” Ramsey asked, worrying her bottom lip.

“Turns out the substance he was injected with was a particularly unpleasant strain of a bioweapon being produced down South.”

Brian put a hand on Roman’s shoulder when his friend rose stiffly at the news.

“Well, will he be alright?” Letty asked.

“We think so,” Mr. Nobody leaned on the table, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “They pump these guys so full of vaccines, it sounds like the kid’s body’s just treating it like the flu. He’s miserable but doesn’t seem to be in any danger.”

They knew that Eric was a protégé of Mr. Nobody, but watching him explain what was happening to their resident Agent gave more parental vibes than anything.

“So, he’s gonna be okay?” Brain asked, voicing the question once more. He, along with the rest of the team, needed the reassurance that they wouldn’t be losing a family member, no matter how new to the fold he was.

“Yeah,” Mr. Nobody sighed. “I just feel for him, he never gets sick.”

“Is it contagious?” Hobbs asked, side-eyeing Rome while mentally speed running every contingency plan in his arsenal.

“Thankful, no.” Mr. Nobody replied. “The only known agent was injected straight into his body, and the nerds at the lab have confirmed it’s not airborne, transmissible through bodily fluids, or by touch. It’s a ‘perfect fit’ virus that only affects the person it’s subjected to.”  

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and eventually Mr. Nobody took his leave after confirming there were no new missions for their team.

Thirty minutes later, everyone was working lacklusterly on projects – the scare from the morning had taken all the energy out of the room.

The only interruption was after a few hours, when, out of nowhere, Roman coughed.

Brian shared a look with Tej, who’d been explaining something about a new program they were running.

“You good, Bro?” Brain asked cautiously. The lab rats said Eric wasn’t contagious, but what did they know?

“Yeah, Dawg, I’m just feeling a little off,” he said, looking perfectly healthy and not at all like he suddenly came down with something horrible.

“Oh, yeah?” Tej asked, deadpanned, wondering how long Roman was going to push it before he got to what he really wanted.

“Yeah, man, I don’t know, I think I might need to head out.”

By the time Rome got done with the theatrics, everyone was begging for him to leave. Hobbs and Dom didn’t even bother checking to see if there was a real problem. They waved him off, ordering him to feel better.

“Hey, Rome,” Brian called out as his brother shuffled out the door like a zombie. “Tell Eric to get better soon.”

Roman didn’t even have the decency to turn around and smirk at the blonde; he just flipped him the bird and headed out.

Roman only made a short detour on his way to Eric’s place. Considering the younger man said he ‘never got sick’, he figured he probably didn’t have all the sick day staples. He picked up some soup ingredients, some popsicles, a thermometer, several bottles of Gatorade and Pedialyte, and some cold & flu meds. 

It didn’t take long to get to the younger man’s apartment, and the nagging worry overrode any feelings of being out of place or unwanted. He got the sense that no one had taken care of the brunette in a long time. He wasn’t sure if it was the way their Agent approached their invitation to join the Family, or the look in his eyes when he thought he didn’t belong, only to realize what they’re trying to give him.

Roman knew what it was like to think you couldn’t rely on anyone, and he would be damned if he let something like that happen to-

To someone he cared about.

He pulled up to the apartment and knocked before he could talk himself out of it. He didn’t hear anything for a few minutes, so he knocked again.

On the third attempt, he finally heard shuffling. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but the figure that opened the door was not it.

Eric was in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. His hair was mussed to the point of being a rat’s nest. He was paler than ever; he actually reminded Rome of the time Brian had appendicitis when they were kids, of course, his appendix had blown, so the paleness at least made sense. One of Eric’s pant legs was riding up, and his sleeves fell over his hands.

He looked horrible, but Roman was just glad he was alive; that's all he wanted.

“What-” The sick man croaked, but cut himself off with a harsh cough. It shook his entire body until he had to hold himself up in the doorway.

“Am I doing here?” Roman didn’t want to make things any more difficult than they already were. Despite what his family believed, he wasn’t put on this earth to be stubborn.

Eric swallowed painfully before trying to suck in as much air as possible. Rome could hear the crackling of his lungs on each inhale, and it made his own chest ache.

“Look, I know you probably don’t want me here, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t pass out and die next to the coffee table I spent so much time on, alright?”

The brunette could only breathe heavily through his mouth and stare at the older man. He obviously wasn’t firing on all cylinders.

“I brought soup, man, c’mon, let me in.” Roman put on his best charming smile, the one that worked on all the Aunties.

Eric shook his head but quickly stopped to put a hand to his temple to ease the pain. He stood to the side, and Roman slinked in, moving so close to the younger man that he could feel the fever coming off him in droves.

“Glad I brought a thermometer,” he said, putting his supplies on the kitchen counter. “I bet you don’t even got one.”

Eric stared at him balefully, only breaking eye contact when a shiver wracked his body. He shuffled forward, tipping slightly to one side, but kept going until he reached his couch. There was a nest of pillows and blankets carefully arranged on the cushions.

Roman smirked at him. At least some things would never change. Sick as a dog, and the idiot was still the most organized man he knew. Rome spent a few more minutes putting things away, stocking the fridge with his spoils, and getting the medicine measured out correctly.

“You take anything?” Roman called to the tuft of brunette hair sticking out from under the blankets. There was a struggle as Eric pushed through his fluffy fortress. He blinked like a frog before looking in Roman’s vague direction.

He moaned softly while shaking his head. Yeah, Roman figured as much. The little nerd was probably trying to tough it out. That or he didn’t know how to take care of the flu, which lined up with what Roman knew about him.

“Alright, it’s 2:45, in like, three hours, you can take another dose. For now, you gotta take this, and drink at least a bottle of Gatorade.”

Eric pitifully moaned again before his head flopped forward. Of course, he’d be a stubborn patient. Well, Roman was practiced at dealing with obstinate assholes. He was going to give Eric the care he deserved, if it killed him.

Getting the medicine and liquids into the brunette turned out to be the easy part. The real problems started when Rome tried to get the other man to eat. The mere suggestion of food had Eric stumbling gracelessly to the bathroom. He hadn’t eaten anything in a while, if the dry heaving and bile left in the bowl were anything to go by.

After the third or fourth round of that, Roman decided to try a different approach by pulling out some popsicles and Pedialyte. When Brian would be dying of the flu, those were the only things he could keep down.

They worked as well as could be expected. Eric got half a bottle and two popsicles down before he had to rush to the bathroom again. By the time his next dose was ready, he was an exhausted heap of pale skin and bones. 

Roman felt terrible. The only thing he could do was be there for him and help clean him up when he could barely lift his arms. He wasn’t sure if he was doing more harm than good, but the alternative was to leave the younger man there alone. 

Leaving someone alone and miserable was one of the worst things you could do, in Rome’s book. Even if Eric turned on a dime and kicked him out for overstaying his welcome, at least he wouldn’t have been alone at his sickest.

As the day turned into night, Eric’s fever warred with his body before settling at a manageable temperature. The last thing either of them wanted was to have to call The Agency to send over a doctor, because hell if they were going to a hospital for any help. 

They’d probably take one look at Eric and call for a hazmat team. Roman chuckled at the thought, turning to share the joke, but when he glanced down at the weight on his shoulder, he stayed as quiet as could be. 

Between bad sitcoms, B-list movies, and rushing to the bathroom, Little Nobody had fallen asleep against him. As close as he was, Rome could see the dark circles that had gotten darker under his eyes. He absently noticed the bruises that still hadn’t healed, but were changing colors as they blossomed across his skin. 

Little puffs of air escaped Eric’s mouth because his nose was too congested to work. 

Roman had no brain-to-mouth filter. Whatever he thought, he instantly said out loud; it was part of his charm. When he looked down at the ungelled, soft, greasy hair tangled in a mess, resting on his shoulder, he thought, ‘Oh.’

When Eric shifted, and his head fell back so his pale, lightly freckled face was only inches from Roman; so close he could count his feathery eyelashes, he said, “Beautiful.” 

Roman learned a great deal about their resident Agent in the short amount of time he’d known him: He never backed down from a fight, he was the most uptight person Rome had ever met, he ‘never got sick’, he gave away perfectly good coffee tables for no reason, he wore glasses when he pretended to read, he didn’t know how important he was to them, and he was the most beautiful thing Roman had ever seen.

Rome carefully wrapped an arm around sleep-warmed shoulders. He gently pulled until he had a lap full of pillows, blankets, and Eric. He knew he should probably get him to bed. The couch was comfortable, but not that comfortable. 

He moved a strand of sweaty hair from Eric’s brow as he rechecked his temp. Eric moaned softly, snuggling deeper into Roman’s chest. Roman smiled tenderly at the bundle in his arms. He didn’t know what would happen when Eric woke up, but for just a little while, everything was perfect. 

He changed the channel to something quiet, put his feet up on the coffee table, and pulled Eric closer as he leaned back on the couch. 

He was happy because Eric was alive; that’s all Roman wanted.

-End-