Jock Next Bed (BL) Chapter 107: Sick

Chris’s mood was on a high for the rest of the day, his mind replaying his conversation with Sky over and over again. He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he recalled Sky’s frustration and jealousy and the raw honesty that had passed between them. It was a side of Sky he hadn’t seen before, and it left him feeling more connected to the strange guy than ever before. Or maybe he had witnessed it before but hadn’t just thought it was jealousy because Sky was, well... Sky.

The day passed in a blur of classes, casual interactions with acquaintances, and weird looks from strangers, but none of them mattered. Because his thoughts had been busy wandering to the lovey-dovey feeling, he was too preoccupied to notice the telltale signs of his fever returning until late afternoon.

As soon as he returned to his dorm room, the sickness hit him like a ton of bricks. He could barely muster the strength to crawl into bed and bury himself under the covers. He shivered, his body alternating between chills and feverish heat. Every movent felt like a monuntal effort, and he knew he was in for a rough night.

His phone buzzed with a ssage from Rachel, asking how he was doing and hoping he had sothing good to eat and also taken his dication. He hesitated before typing out a response. Should he tell her he wasn’t fine or not?

Finally, he sent one, assuring her that he was fine and that it was just a minor fever. He didn’t want her to feel obligated to take care of him, especially when he knew she had her own responsibilities to tend to.

He was not a child. He was Christopher Owen.

As the minutes ticked by, Chris’s energy waned, and he found himself drifting in and out of consciousness. He wasn’t sure how much ti had passed because the next thing he knew, he heard Sky’s voice swearing softly.

It was never a good sign when Sky swore.

Chris opened his eyes to find Sky crouched beside his bed, concern etched on his features.

Chris looked at him; he seed a bit confused, wondering if he was seeing stuff. "Sky?" His voice ca out weak and raspy.

"Why didn’t you call ?" Sky’s voice held a mixture of worry and annoyance as he gently brushed so strands of hair out of Chris’s face.

Despite his weakness, Chris did not miss a chance to be sarcastic. "Wouldn’t people talk about you eting ?"

"Is that important right now?" Sky sounded like he wanted to snap at him while also trying not to.

Chris did not have a response to that. He was too weak to say a thing, and his head was throbbing.

Sky had concern etched on his features. His hair was slightly tousled, and his eyes held a storm of emotions. Chris tried to speak again, but his voice ca out weak and scratchy, barely audible, so he just gave up and closed his eyes.

Sky reached out to feel Chris’s forehead for temperature. "You’re badly burning up."

Chris nodded weakly, too exhausted to offer much of a response. Sky’s fingers lingered against his skin for a mont longer, his touch gentle yet grounding.

"You really should have called ," Sky murmured, his tone a mixture of frustration and tenderness.

Chris managed a faint smile, touched by Sky’s concern. He struggled to sit up, his body protesting the movent. Sky helped prop him up against the pillows, his presence a reassuring anchor. He felt weak and vulnerable, but there was sothing comforting about having Sky by his side.

Cringe.

Sky disappeared from his line of sight for a mont before returning after a few minutes of doing whatever he was doing and hearing the uncomfortable noises coming from plates and nylon bags. He returned with a bowl of steaming soup. "I brought so soup with for you. You need to eat sothing."

Chris’s stomach churned at the thought of food, but he knew Sky was right. He managed a weak nod, and Sky settled on the edge of the bed, helping him hold the bowl. His hands shook slightly, but Sky steadied them with his own, offering silent support.

As Chris managed to take a few spoonfuls of the soup, he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He barely had ti to clamp a hand over his mouth before he started retching. Sky acted quickly, grabbing one of the discarded nylon bags from the corner of the room and holding it out for Chris to use.

The experience was humiliating, and Chris felt his cheeks flush with embarrassnt. He continued to retch, each heave leaving him feeling weaker and more drained.

After what felt like an eternity, Chris’s stomach finally settled, and he slumped back against the pillows, panting heavily. He felt utterly exhausted, his body drenched in sweat. He couldn’t believe how much his illness had taken out of him.

Sky’s hand ca to rest gently on his arm, offering a soothing pat. "You okay?"

Chris nodded weakly, too embarrassed to et Sky’s gaze. He felt Sky’s fingers brush against his hair, offering a comforting touch. "Let’s get you so dicine and so water."

Chris’s head was spinning, and he felt like he was in a daze as Sky helped him sit up and handed him a glass of water along with a couple of pills. He struggled to swallow them, his throat dry and scratchy.

As the dicine began to take effect, Chris’s nausea began to subside, and his fever gradually started to abate. Sky’s concern didn’t waver, and Chris felt a mix of gratitude and exhaustion wash over him.

"This is... so embarrassing," Chris managed to say, his voice still weak.

Sky’s lips quirked into a faint smile. "It’s not as bad as you think."

"Watching throw up?" Chris retorted.

"You’d do the sa for ."

"I wouldn’t," Chris said, but he didn’t sound exactly sure. Why would he bother himself with this when he could just send him to a good hospital?

Seriously Chris? You now have partial amnesia?

Sky gave him a pointed look as he said clearly, "You would have."

"Whatever," Chris muttered, defeated.

His eyes felt heavy, and he leaned back against the pillows, feeling a sense of relief as the fever began to ebb away. His eyelids drooped, and he was on the verge of drifting off when he heard Sky’s voice again.

"You need to clean up. It’ll help you feel better."

Chris’s eyes fluttered open, and he glanced at Sky, feeling a mixture of hesitance and vulnerability.

Clean up? Nah. Aside from the fact that he felt too weak to do anything, he was cold, and all he wanted was to bury himself under the blanket.

"Can’t. I’m... cold," Chris admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sky’s expression softened, and he moved closer, his hand resting on Chris’s arm. "I know it might not be the most comfortable thing right now, but trust , it’ll make you feel better in the long run. Warm water can help lower your fever and relax your muscles."

He knew Sky was right. This morning, he hadn’t had a good shower as much as he would have liked, and he’d definitely have liked a shower. But he couldn’t.

"I really do not want to," Chris muttered, his gaze pleading for this boy to leave him alone.

"Just let take care of you," Sky spoke quietly.

There was an earnest sincerity in Sky’s eyes that Chris couldn’t ignore. He hesitated for a mont before finally offering a reluctant nod. What was the worst that could happen?

Sky’s lips curled into a reassuring smile, and Chris found himself drawn to the warmth of that smile.

"Good. I’ll take care of everything."

Sky left the room briefly, and when he returned after a while, he ca with a basin of warm water. Chris was already lying on the bed, and so when he saw this, he furrowed his brows, wondering if Sky was about to do what he thought he was about to do.

As he watched as Sky wet a cloth and wrung out the excess water, his movents deliberate and careful, Chris’s stomach churned with nerves.

"I’ll... clean you up. Is that okay?" Sky asked as he stepped closer, his gaze unwavering.

Chris stared at him dumbly for a mont before he nodded hesitantly. He knew himself. Even though he was sick or even on his deathbed, he was always a pervert.

Why didn’t Sky ever offer to help him clean up when he was well?

Sky sat beside Chris on the bed and reached out to touch Chris’s forehead with the damp cloth. The sensation was cool against his heated skin, and Chris let out a shaky breath. He watched Sky’s movents, his fingers trailing along Chris’s skin with a gentleness that left him feeling both exposed and strangely comforted.

"Is it... okay to take off your clothes?" Sky asked quietly.