TITLE: "Bedside Manner"
AUTHOR: Aiobheann

 RATING: R Implied m/m sexual activity.

 PAIRING: John/D'Argo

 SUMMARY: Humor, P-W-P, sortof H/C. John has a cold, and D'Argo kisses it better. Some fluff inspired by my hubby and I trading colds. A bit of schmoop, sort of an antidote to the heavy shit going on in my PK Discipline series. As usual, no beta, so all mistakes mine.

 DISCLAIMER: These fine gents don't belong to me; Henson has that honor. I just play with them every chance I get. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made here...all done outta love. Story itself copyright Aiobheann, 1999.

 FEEDBACK: Yes, please!

 ARCHIVE: LALEA, Smutscape.

"D'Argo, for the las tibe, I'be fine! I just have a code, OK?"

 "Your voice will go back to normal eventually, won't it?"

 "Yeah. I thing. If I eber get over this crud."

 "You will recover?" (plaintively)

 "'Course I will. I'be had a code every sigle winter of my live." (rustling of sheets) "Don't ged so close to me! I'be god a fever, you're just making me hodder!"

"I'm sorry, John. (more rustling of sheets) You've just never been sick before. I'm not sure what to do."

 "Do whadever you would do if I was Luxan and god sick, OK? I'm nod dying, here. I just feel like it." (pitiful coughing and hacking)

 "Luxans do not get 'codes.' Or get sick, for that matter."

"It's not a code, it's a code -- C-O-L-D. Oh, neber mind, you cad spell English." (sniffle) "Man, dod you have Kleenex oud here? This snodrag is making my node all red."

"Kleenex?"

 "Neber mind, I said! Geez. Ya know, your bedside madder leabes a lod to be desired, D'Argo."

 "Well, must you be so , so -- whiny?"

 "Whidy? I'be whidy? Fide! Just leabe me alone!" (loud rustling of sheets, *flop* as John turns his back)

 "You're being worse than Rygel was when he had the Clendian flu." (followed by an aggrieved harrumph)

 "Ab not."

 "Are too."

 "I'be sick! Id's allowed. Just deal with id."

 (sigh) "How?"

"You could stard by being nice to be." (grudgingly)

 "How? No matter what I do, you find fault with it!"

 "Thad's it! Ged oudda my face!" (muffled hacking and coughing, more pitiful than the last bout)

 "John?"

 (silence)

 "John, I'm sorry."

 (more silence, followed by the sound of a Luxan thinking very hard)

 "How about if I do this?"

 (silence, broken by squirmy sounds and a human trying very stubbornly not to make 'ooooh' noises as he squirms)

 "Is this all right? Am I making you hotter?"

 "Yeah."

 (the squirmy noises stop)

 "But in a good way. Don't stop."

 "Don't stop doing this?"

 "Yeah - mmmmm, yeah, that."

 "What if I stop doing that so I can do -- "

 "Oh, man. Ohhhhhh, that's good, I like that."

 (more mumbling noises, rustling of sheets)

 "C'mere, big guy."

 "I thought you said not to get too close to you -- "

 "I neber said that."

 "Yes, you did. You said -- "

 "And I thought I was the one who talked too buch. Shuddup and go back to -- "

 "This?"

 "Oh, yeah."

"Lower."

 "I thought you said if I kissed you I would be exposing myself to your germs."

 "I don't have any germs there, trust me. Lower."

"Oooooh, yeah, that's, mmmmm, D'Argo!"

 (rustling of sheets underscored by panting)

 "Feel better, John?"

 "Uh-huh. Think I sweated off my fever."

(kiss)

 "Good."

 "I could get to like that kind of bedside manner."

 "Your voice sounds better."

 "Yeah. Who knew that would clear my sinuses?"

 (coughing, followed by a sneeze)

 "Uh-oh. Looks like you got my cold after all, big guy."

 "This is a cold? Not a code?"

"Yes. I just got too stuffed up to say it right."

 "Frell. I'm going to sound like you, then?"

 "Yep. Sorry."

 "I do not like being ill."

 "Ah-ah, no whining! I'm gonna treat you exactly the way you treated me when I was sick."

 "Exactly?"

 (rustling of sheets)

 "Mmmm-hmmm." (wet, slurpy sounds)

 "I was actually very nice to you."

 "I know." (more slurping, followed by a moan)

"Wanna get your sinuses cleared, big guy?"

 (slightly foghornish happy noise)

 "I'll take that as a yes."

 END