Chapter Text
Take Good Care of Yourself, You Belong To Me
By Scribe
"Lynette, darling, what's up with you today?" Clive asked. "You have very nearly turned Mrs. Havasnark into Bozo the Clown with what was supposed to be a simple henna rinse."
Lynette Vittelli gasped. "Oh, my God! Maybe I can tone it down with a little brown..."
"Calm, dear, calm. Untwist your knickers. Snarky loves the effect, but it isn't what you set out to do, now is it?"
"No. I was just going to give her a pretty burnished effect. I... I guess I left it on too long."
"I guess you did."
"I'm sorry. I'm so..."
"Stop it.--I said there was no harm done. I'm not mad at you, dear, but I AM concerned. It isn't like you to be careless. Is something bothering you?" Lynette bit her lip. "A-ha." He raised his voice. "Constance, dear, you give Miss Plimpton her comb out, would you? I need Lynette for a few minutes. Come back to the office, dear."
Clive led Lynette back to the office, made her sit down, and brought her a cup of coffee. Then he perched on the edge of the desk and said, "Tell."
Lynette sighed. "It's Trenton."
Clive was instantly alert. There wasn't a thing in the world that concerned him more than Trenton Vittelli and his well-being. His voice was apprehensive. "I know that nothing has happened to my lamb, because you would not be upset--you would be prostrate."
"You're right about that. It's nothing horrible; I'm just worried about him. You know that flu that's being passed around? Well, he caught it."
Clive made a face. "Oo. Poor baby."
Lynette nodded. "He's miserable. It isn't bad enough for him to go to the hospital, but he's going to have to spend a few days in bed, and Clive he is the most DREADFUL patient. I know he isn't a baby, but I hate leaving him alone."
"There's no reason for you to," said Clive firmly. "You should have just called in, dear. You ought to know that I'd give you some time off to stay with him."
"That's what I said, but he refused."
"What?" Clive's tone was flat.
"He said he was too old for a babysitter, and if I stayed home to take care of him, he'd get up and go to school."
Clive's eyes narrowed. "Oh, he DID, did he? My dear Lynette, your son is a bit of a brat."
This made Lynette smile. "He's never given me any worry about anything he might do, but sometimes I think he makes up for it when he won't take care of himself. It's gotten better since he's been with you. He eats like he's supposed to, sleeps enough... But when it comes to being sick, he's still stubborn. I'm just having a hard time concentrating, worrying if he's staying in bed, if he's drinking enough fluids, if he's remembering to take..."
"Enough. You'll give me palpitations. Now I won't be able to rest till -I- make sure he's all right." Clive stood up. "Finish your coffee, and set your mind at rest. I'm going over to your place and administer some tender, loving care." He slapped his thigh. "Administered with a firm hand."
~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~
Trenton blew his nose. And blew. And blew. And blew. Got another paper towel. Blew again. Finally he sighed. *God, I didn't think I had room for that much in my sinuses. I must've honked out over a pint of slime just today.* He opened the wad of moist paper, peeked, grimaced, and dropped it in the trash. *Oh, well--I guess it's better than hacking that crap up.*
As if on cue, he started coughing. It didn't want to stop. He got a little dizzy, and had to brace his hand against the kitchen counter. With the other hand he grabbed blindly for another paper towel, and got it just in time to do what he'd just complained about--spitting into the paper. When it was done he felt weaker than ever. "Oh, God." He bent down, leaning his forehead against the cool counter, closing his eyes.
"Trenton, are you all right?"
Trent jerked upright, startled, and turned quickly. Clive was standing in the kitchen doorway. He felt an immediate burst of relief at the sight of his lover. "Clive!" Then he noticed the Dom's frown and said hesitantly, "What are you doing here? Attitudes didn't burn down, or anything, did it? What are you doing away from the shop?"
"You can take that accusatory tone out of your voice. I am away from the shop because your mother was so busy worrying about you that she might as well have been on Krypton. It was either send her home or come myself, and from listening to her, she wasn't having much luck in making you behave. I volunteered."
"You didn't have to do that," Trenton protested. "I told Mom that I'll be fine. Heck, it's just a cold."
"What I heard when I came in is NOT just a cold." Clive stalked over. Trenton was beginning to feel like he'd been caught doing something naughty, and the sensation of nervousness was making itself known through the general feeling of illness. He didn't try to avoid Clive--he was still new to the Dom/sub lifestyle, but he was better trained than that. Still he found himself leaning back a little as Clive invaded his personal space, moving in close.
Clive leaned in close to Trenton, examining him closely. "You're flushed, and your eyes are too bright. Your lips are starting to get chapped, and your nose is red." Clive wrinkled his own nose. "And you have the beginning of a snail trail."
"Crap." Trenton still had the paper towel in his hand, and wiped his nose.
"Trenton! What is THAT?"
"Well, uh, it's..."
"I can see what it is. I just didn't believe my eyes for a moment. For God's sake, what are you doing wiping your nose with one of those? They aren't designed for it. Where are your tissues?"
"In the bedroom. I needed something quick. Besides, they work, and I've been filling up tissues so fast."
"And look at the state of your nose. If you keep going at this rate it will be raw and rival Santa's for looking like a cherry. You're a beautiful young man, but that would NOT be attractive, or comfortable. While we're on the subject of what you're doing that you shouldn't be doing--WHY ARE YOU DRESSED?" Trenton immediately started stripping. Clive caught his hands. "Stop it." His expression was grim, but he smiled faintly. "Very good reflexes, but that isn't what I meant. What I meant was you're supposed to be in bed. What are you doing up and dressed?"
"We're out of soda. I was just going to run down to the corner store."
Clive covered his eyes for a second. When he spoke it was clear he was making an effort to not snap. "First, you drink too much soda--I've told you that. Second, soda is NOT good for a cold. I'll grant you that it has some effect in settling a stomach. Is your stomach upset?"
"Well... not right now."
"And thirdly," Clive's hand dropped, and he glared at the younger man. "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE IN BED!"
Trenton was reduced to stuttering. "I... I... Yes, sir."
"And the very idea of coming onto a cold tile floor barefooted when you're ill." Clive pointed down as he spoke. Trenton automatically dropped to his knees. The problem was that he moved too fast in his sick state, and the dizziness came back. He swayed dangerously, and reached out instinctively, throwing his arms around Clive's legs. Clive grabbed his shoulders, steadying him. "Trenton, please tell me that you're just trying to make up to me."
"Don't let go," Trenton said faintly. "Or maybe you'd better. I feel like maybe I should have gotten that soda..."
"Oops!" Clive grabbed Trenton under the arms and hauled him upright. He turned and guided him till he was leaning over the kitchen sink. He was just in time. He held Trenton's head while the boy retched. When Trent was done, Clive stroked his hair, then wet a cloth. He maneuvered Trenton onto a chair, then took the boy's chin in his hand and gently wiped his face. Clive pressed a hand to Trenton's forehead and grimaced. "Oh, you poor baby! You're burning up, Trent, and here I am scolding you senseless." He folded the cloth into a pad and handed it to Trenton. "Here, hold this to your forehead for a minute."
Trenton did so gratefully. Clive went to the kitchen phone and dialed quickly. "Hello? Yes, Bettina? I won't be back in today. Well, you'll just have to tell Paulo that I can't make his appointment because of sickness in the family. Yes, he can reschedule if he wants. And get Lynette for me." Clive looked over to see Trenton starting to stand up. "Don't you dare!"
"I was just going to put this..."
"You're not to stir a step without me there. You've nearly fallen once--do you honestly want to risk dashing your brains out on the kitchen floor? If nothing else, think about your mother having to clean it up." Trenton paled. "Precisely. Hello, Lynette, love. Yes, he's... all right. Well, he's not good, but it's nothing that can't be fixed with a little tender loving care, so that's what he's going to get. No, you stay there. I'll play nurse today. Nonsense, you know I want to." He smiled. "Yes." He glanced back at Trenton, his gaze amused. "Oh, he looks about thirteen right now. No, I'm sure. I'll see you after work. Good-bye, dear."
Clive hung up, then started dialing again. "Clive..."
"Hush. Toddy? Yes, it's me. I'm fine, but I need to speak to Elise. Thank you." Clive waited a moment, humming a bright tune to himself. "Elise, darling, I need your help. I'm tending a sick pet today." Clive glanced at Trenton again. "Yes, him. The flu." Clive smiled again. "Lynette asked the same thing. About thirteen. Could you...? Yes. Yes. Yes, that would be perfect. Mm-hm. Tell her to take a taxi and I'll give her cab fare when she gets here. Thank you, darling. You're a treasure." He laughed. "I'm glad." He hung up. "She said, 'I know it'. Not an ounce of false pride in the woman, but she knows her worth. Now, we need to get you back to bed, but..." Clive went back to Trenton. He bent down and pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead, then said, "No, you're much too warm. You need a cool shower first. Come on, we want to be done before our delivery gets here."
He supported Trenton as he stood up, and Trent said, "Clive, you don't have to prop me up."
"Trenton," Clive took hold of his shoulders and stared him right in the eyes. "Are you going to be difficult?"
"No, sir."
Clive patted his cheek. "That's the lamb I know and love." They went into the bathroom. Clive turned on the shower and adjusted the water, then stripped Trenton, quickly and efficiently, with none of the teasing slowness that was common when they were about to make love. Trent started to get into the shower, and Clive said, "Wait." Clive took off his own clothes quickly.
"I don't think there's going to be room for both of us in our shower," Trenton protested.
"Sweetie, we don't need much room. We're not going to be having sex, we're just going to get you cool, clean, and comfortable, and I'm not going to risk you getting dizzy again, so I AM going in with you."
Clive was right. It was a little crowded in the shower (it hadn't been built to accommodate two or more, like the one in Clive's apartment), but they managed. The water was just barely cooler than body temperature, and Trent had to admit to himself that it felt wonderful. He wouldn't have admitted it to his mother, but for the last day he'd been feeling rather like he was being baked.
Trenton just closed his eyes and let Clive take care of him. The Dom's big hands moved over him with gentle efficiency, massaging as much as cleaning. When they were done he dried Trenton as well. This was a part of his relationship that Trenton loved--when Clive performed these personal services--acts that weren't necessarily sexual, but were intimate.
When they were done they went into Trenton's bedroom, and Clive opened the chest of drawers. "My, these are the neatest piles of underwear I've seen outside my own or a department store. I know I haven't gone over that with you."
"It was the only way I could get Mom to agree to let me put up my own laundry."
"Hm. Did you have something you didn't want her to see?"
"No, but I thought I might at some point in time."
"Here we are." Clive pulled out a pair of underwear and offered them to Clive.
"Clive, those are boxers. I only have them becauseMom got the wrong kind, and lost the receipt, so we couldn't take them back."
"These are all you're going to be wearing, and something a little loose will be best. Put them on."
Trenton obeyed, grumbling, "I'm going to look like a dork."
Clive took Trenton's chin in his hand. "Trent, you would look beautiful in a gunnysack. There are times to worry about style, but now is not one of them." There was a knock at the door, and Clive patted his cheek. "That will be our supplies. Put them on, and get into bed."
"Yes, sir." As Clive left the room, Trenton muttered, "I never thought I'd be happy to hear you say those words when I knew we weren't going to have sex, but as bad as I feel right now--I do."
TBC