Convalescent Leave

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Convalescent Leave
by templemarker

Notes: In my continuing celebration of the start of [info]yagkyas 2011, a little Rudy/Pappy story for the prompt “cold medicine.” Thanks to [personal profile] dira for the prompt and beta.


“I’m not snorting anything up my goddamn nose,” Pappy said, grumpy as shit and reaching for the box of tissues. “Get that nutty pot or whatever away from me.”

Rudy looked disgustingly healthy compared to Pappy, standing a few feet away with a mug of tea and some creepy torture device in his hands. His hair was flopped over his eyes, and he looked tired. He’d decided to work from home the last couple of days, to take care of Pappy, who’d been practically escorted off the base after showing up for work on Monday looking like Death had taken him out for a night on the town. But hell, Pappy hadn’t asked him to do that. He could’ve managed without someone trying to mother him back to health.

“It’s not like it’s cocaine, Pappy,” Rudy said, and there was a thread of annoyance in his voice that didn’t come out all that often. Especially not since he’d left the Corps. “It’ll clear out your nasal passages, let you breathe better.”

“I’ll take the tea,” Pappy said, wary, and Rudy’s face fell a little as he handed the mug over.

It made Pappy feel worse to have Rudy looking at him like Pappy shot his dog, so he sighed and flipped the blanket back, gesturing for Rudy to come close. “C’mon,” he said. “I need to keep warm or something, and you’re the warmest thing I’ve got.”

Rudy shook his head, looking fond and exasperated all at once, but he set down his torture device and tucked himself into the couch opposite Pappy. It was a war of legs for a minute, but they sorted it out and Pappy moved the blanket back into place.

“I’m taking you to the doctor if you don’t feel better tomorrow,” Rudy said quietly. “You’ve got a fever, and it needs to break tonight.”

Pappy sighed into his tea. If he hated the doctor, Rudy hated it more–he wasn’t a big fan of Western medicine, and preferred to go to his naturopath instead. For him to say that meant he was pretty worried, and that was all it took for Pappy to lose his will to argue.

“All right,” he said. “Hey, since you’re here, how about you do that massage thing you do with my legs? I like it when you do that, it feels good.”

Rudy looked at him from under the shock of his hair. “Cheater,” he said, something of the smile returning to his face. “You just got me up here so I’d put my hands on you.”

Pappy tried to look innocent and knew he completely failed to do so. “You can’t prove anything,” he said, and Rudy’s smile widened. He leaned forward and ran one of his hands up under Pappy’s sweats, and the heat of his palm felt fucking amazing against Pappy’s calf. His eyes fell closed, and he was pretty sure he let out some kind of compromising noise. Rudy’s fingers kneaded into the muscle, and after a minute his other hand came up around the other side. When Pappy opened his eyes a little, Rudy was watching him with hunger on his face.

Pappy slid himself down a little more, moving so his left leg was closer to Rudy. He let his foot tuck up close to Rudy’s crotch, the fabric of his sock rubbing up against Rudy’s sleep pants, grinning a little at Rudy’s sharp intake of breath.

“Pappy, are you sure–” Rudy started, and Pappy scowled. “I’m sick, I’m not dead,” he said, curling his toes between Rudy’s cock and balls. Rudy’s mouth hung open a little bit, and Pappy was always a little suprised by how much he liked the sight of that: Rudy shutting up, letting Pappy do that to him.

Pappy moved his foot back and forth, and Rudy kept his hands wrapped around Pappy’s leg, and it was like this hot, slightly fuzzy connection that made everything in the room a little brighter.

Just as Rudy was starting to move a little, letting his hips buck in to the touch, Pappy felt his chest seize and in quick succession sneezed about half a dozen times.

When it had finally ceased, and Pappy could open his eyes again, Rudy was looking at him with that familiar mixture of exasperation and fondness that had gotten them through the better part of two wars. Rudy patted Pappy’s leg and sat back, the line of his erection obvious through the fabric. “Why don’t you just rest, Pappy,” he said. “Have some more of that tea.”

Pappy frowned, sighed, and drew the mug to his mouth. Flu season was the worst.

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