#definitely ooc and I cant write in the tem style but. BUT. idk. I'm putting it in here anyway cuz yolo

[presidentheartbeat6]

i've got a stupid cold + a need to inflict my suffering on others = whatever this is.

"Laurence watches with rapt attention as Tharkay slides his hands from his gloves, one after the other. And then Tharkay is leaning very close, startling Laurence into stillness, which is why he doesn't immediately retreat when a cool hand presses against his forehead. This close, the minute changes in Tharkay's countenance are clearly visible, and Laurence observes the subtle furrow of his brow, the slight purse of his lips, in a dreamlike haze. Tharkay's dark eyes shine a light hazel brown in the sunlight, and Laurence can't recall ever seeing them look so light, despite their frequent proximity; he can't fathom how he's never noticed their brilliance before.

So captivated is he by Tharkay's expression that Laurence only remembers to take a halting half step backwards when Tharkay's hand descends to cradle his cheek, flustered by Tharkay's nearness but still attempting in vain to conceal the warmth of his fever. Tharkay lets his hand drop to his side in compliance, yet his gaze remains concerned as he regards Laurence.

"You're quite warm, Will," Tharkay murmurs, his voice soft in the manner he typically reserves for animals. Laurence's resolve to hide his petty illness, to push through despite the chills and the persistent aching of his limbs, dissolves. His shoulders droop.

"I suppose," he replies slowly. "I may be suffering from a touch of fever."

A hint of a smile turns the corners of Tharkay's mouth upwards, and Laurence finds he can't look away. "I daresay you may be right."

His tone carries an intolerably fondness, and Laurence is a weak man; he submits to the hand on his back without complaint, and lets himself be guided inside."

OOPS is that a ficlet. how did that get there. sweats.