A/N: This is just a little slashy one-shot I wrote when I felt the need to write but didn't know exactly what I wanted to write. And don't worry folks; I've already started work on the rewrite of TFY and the Sequel will be started as soon as that is finished. I promise! Anyways, please review and leave lots of love:-)
I'd Give Anything
He knew there was something wrong. In some deep recess of his mind, he wanted someone else to know it too. Specifically, he wanted his crush Davey to know. Of course, on the very forefront of his consciousness, he wanted the exact opposite. He wanted to hide it away, keep it from him. The last thing Davey needed was to be worrying over him.
Unfortunately, it was tricky to hide. His hands shook; he was as pale as death and it was incredibly difficult to breathe. His vision blurred almost constantly now.
It had been hard, but he'd gotten used to it. He hid it away, trying his best to be what Davey needed; support. After the fire that had taken both of Davey's parents and his brothers, Davey had become almost suicidal, taking far too many pills than were healthy and he'd wake up crying every night. Brandon had made it his own personal duty to always be the one that was there when Davey had taken too many pills to stand up and make it to the bed, to be the one to comfort him when grief overwhelmed him at night.
A wracking fit of coughs sent his thin frame shaking and almost brought him to his knees. When the coughing subsided, he sat heavily on his butt, his back pressed against the bathroom sink with his knees drawn up to his chest. He buried his face in his hands and tried to compose himself, cursing his weak body for doing this to him now of all times.
A knock on the bathroom door forced him to shoot up in fear and Davey's voice called from the other side, "Brandon? Are you in there? I had another bad dream and I just…I really need to be held right now."
Brandon used the bathroom sink to help him stand and then splashed himself with the water to shock some life into him. It didn't work too well, but hopefully, it would be enough to fool Davey. It often was. "Coming, Dave. Just give me a couple of seconds."
His own voice frightened him. It sounded so weak and betrayed his true state of health. He cursed himself again and hoped he wasn't so obvious. Naturally, fate wanted to get rid of any such hope.
"Are you sick?" Davey asked in that vulnerable, sweet voice of his. There was so much concern in that voice…If he would only just give up his stupid pride and tell Dave…no. He couldn't do that. Davey needed him right now; not the other way around.
Maybe…maybe, I'll just tell him when it gets too bad. That's reasonable, right? I can handle this right now…I definitely can handle this. It's nothing compared to his suffering right now, he thought to himself as he took a deep breath and reached over to the door.
As soon as it opened, he felt a smile cross his face. "Of course I'm not sick, Dave. Just constipated," he said, attempting some humor.
Davey giggled a little. "I'm glad…I'd feel so bad if you were sick. I always feel like I'm taking advantage of you…"
Brandon rushed to cut him off. "You are not taking advantage of me, Dave. I want to help you. Now, come on. Let's get back to bed. I'll sing you to sleep."
Davey nodded and the two headed over to the large four-poster in Brandon's bedroom. They climbed inside and pulled the covers up over them. Without hesitation, Brandon snaked his arms about Davey's slim waist and pulled him to his chest, instinctively placed his head against Davey's back.
Davey quickly jolted and sat up, staring down at Brandon. "Are you sure you're not sick, Brandon? You're burning up!"
"It's nothing," Brandon asserted pulling Davey back down next to him. He hadn't known that he was feverish as well. Fuck. That added about ten levels of complication to the whole matter. "I might have a cold, but that's the extent of it. I'll take medicine, alright? Right now, you're more important than some stupid cold."
Davey lay back down, this time facing Brandon. His soft, feminine hands reached up and held Brandon's face. His dark eyes sought out Brandon's and found them. It was as if he were looking into his soul, and that scared the shit out of Brandon.
"I don't want you to lie to me, Brandon. If you're not feeling well, you can tell me. It's not like I'll fall apart if I have to take care of you for once. You do so much for me, Brandon. You'll tell me when you need help, won't you, Brandon?"
Damn it! I wish he wouldn't look at me like that…It's so hard to lie to him when we're this close, face-to-face… But what he said was, "Of course I will. It's just a small bug. It'll be gone by tomorrow, I'm sure."
But it wasn't gone by tomorrow. Or even the next day. In fact, it had gotten worse. It had become a strenuous effort just to get out of bed and there was no hiding it anymore.
"Brandon?" Davey asked one morning. Upon not receiving a reply, he sat up and looked down at Brandon's sleeping form. Usually, the second he said Brandon's name, he woke up. But not today.
He reached out and placed a hand to Brandon's too-pale face and almost recoiled at the heat. "Oh, God, Brandon. You're not just sick…You're horribly ill! I knew it!" Davey said, sadness and worry permeating throughout his voice.
Brandon wanted to say something, anything to sooth him, but it was as if he was weighed down by tons of lead. Even his eyelids wouldn't move. With tremendous effort, he managed to reach out a hand and take Davey's.
"I'll…be…okay," he said before a coughing fit stole his breath.
"No you won't, Brandon! Have you even gone to see a doctor? It hurts me to know that you think I'm too fragile to take care of you for a change! Can't you see I love you!?" Davey quickly covered his mouth with his hand.
Brandon's eyes shot wide open and stared in surprise at Davey. "You…love me?"
Davey moved his hand away and reached out, running his fingers through Brandon's hair. A small smile was playing about his perfectly shaped lips. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked quietly, a small tear slipping from his eye. "You're all that I have, and I don't want to lose you. Fuck, I love you more than I can even say!"
Brandon was too stunned to really say anything. Instead, he reached up one weak hand and placed it against Davey's cheek, a small smile somehow managing to grace his own cracked lips. "You won't lose me…and…I love you, too." Brandon's eyes slowly slid shut as he finally allowed himself to feel able to relax a bit; Davey could, and would, take good care of him, and for now, that's all that he needed.