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In order to save on money, the three boys rented a 2 bedroom apartment.
One bedroom was Joel’s room. The lone human stating his need for “his own space from the bird brains”, and Grian retorting that it was “human privilege at its finest.”
The other was turned into the spare bedroom and study. For the rare occasion that both avians wanted their own space.
Otherwise, the two slept in the nest that was made in between the mix-matched couches. Not that he’d even tell the two avians, but it was honestly the cosiest place in the apartment. The overhead lights were often turned off so the fairy lights and lamps could take over. The tv was often playing some show, or maybe the news if the boys were feeling in a yelling mood.
But there was a reason that the spare room was barely used as a bedroom.
That was because avians were clingy. Especially towards their flock.
Avian families were called flocks, but families rarely had anything to do with blood. It mostly meant the people closest to them.
Although, after being such close friends since elementary, the Bad Boys were more family than the people who raised them.
So, it should have raised a red flag when Grian wanted to sleep in the nest alone tonight.
“Tough,” Grian grumbled, when Jimmy raised concerns, “I need space tonight. You’re just gonna have to cope,”
Grian’s sour mood was a second red flag. He had been snippy all night.
The music they usually played while cooking dinner was too loud. So was Joel and Jimmy’s chewing. The dinner itself was “subpar”. No matter what they did, it was always annoying and bad.
“You can bunk with me tonight,” Joel offered, “Big Js Bunk Night,”
“Yeah! Suck it, Grian,” Jimmy poked his tongue out at the other avian, who huffed and crossed his arms.
So, that’s how Joel found himself spooning Jimmy in his bed. Joel was such a good friend.
“Grian will be alright by the morning. He’s probably just stressed or overstimulated or something,” Joel mentioned. After knowing each other for so long, they could all tell when the other was overthinking. With Grian’s sudden change in attitude, overthinking was bound to happen.
“Took too many meds from the Bad Boys Bupropion Bottles,” Jimmy hummed.
“Exactly. We’ll all wake up and everything will be back to normal,” Joel assured.
Famous last words.
--
Joel was startled awake by a loud clang. Sitting up, he noticed the lack of a certain avian in his bed.
It was still dark out, judging on the lack of sun coming through the curtains.
Rubbing the sleep gunk from his eyes, he padded out of bed – determined to find the source of the noise.
He would not survive a horror movie.
Opening his bedroom door, he was faced with a sight.
Grian was perched up on top of one of the couches, hissing and with his wings flared. The room was messier than usual. Boots and clothes thrown all over the place. Their one frying pan and some half-cooked bacon had moved from the stove to the floor. That was probably the clang.
Jimmy had a blanket – blue in colour but Joel would have assumed it was red by the way he was holding it. Like a bull rider taming a bull. Or whatever that stereotype was.
Joel eyed the stove again and notice the flame. Without a second thought, Joel ran towards the stove to turn it off.
“Bloomin hell guys. Just burn the place down why don’t you,” Joel scolded.
The two avians eyed each other for a moment, before Jimmy started shouting.
“Grian’s sick!”
Grian scoffed, “I’m just trying to go about my day, and Jimmy tries to jump me! I’m not sick”
This was completely undermined by the loud sniff. Looking closer at Grian now, he did look a lot paler that usual. And the three boys were generally pretty pale individuals. A small sheen of sweat had formed, though that could be due to the exercise.
“Well, that’s mean of him to suggest that. Come here, babe,” Joel said, holding his arms out to him.
“Don’t call me babe,” Grian muttered, but did as he was told. Puttering over to him and dropping his head onto his shoulder. Jimmy spluttered in disbelief.
Joel tried to eye the thermometer on the kitchen table. It took a couple of tries – unfortunately there is no synonym for clairvoyancy that started with B, so it was not a skill any of the bad boys had – but eventually Jimmy picked it up.
“Big Mean Jim picking on us shorties,” Joel snickered.
“You’re the shorty, not me,”
“I can literally put my chin on your head,”
“I’m slouching down to reach your level, and also I’m tired. Not sick though, just tired,” Joel only hums in agreement, “So can I keep getting ready?”
“In a minute,” Joel grabs Grian by the shoulders and spins him around. He wrapped his arms around the avian to keep him in place. Grian had been turned to face Jimmy holding the thermometer. Grian went to yell when Jimmy stuck the thermometer in his mouth. With all of the wiggling Grian was doing, Jimmy held onto the thermometer so it might actually have a chance of an accurate reading.
10 seconds later, the thermometer beeped. Jimmy took it out of his mouth.
“You boys are dead,” Grian hissed. Joel still kept his arms pinned, but now moreso for worry of everyone’s physical safety rather than a temperature check.
“You know, we could have done this rectally. It’s one of those cheapies,” Joel said. Grian scrunched his nose at the thought.
“Uh, boys. I can’t read this. It’s in Celsius,” Jimmy said.
“Well read it out, what does it say?” Joel asked.
“39 degrees,”
“Nope, you’re staying home. That is not a low-grade fever,” Joel insists.
“It’s technically borderline,” Grian commented, shrinking a little at Joel’s stare.
“That’s like 102 degrees!” Jimmy exclaims.
“Welcome to the party. You’re a little late,” Joel drawls.
“Yeah, well you know how I feel about the superior Fahrenheit way of measurement,”
“You’re British now. Embrace the Celsius!”
“Over my dead body!”
As the two boys argue, Joel could slowly feel the other avian relax against his chest. Which was great, that means he was giving in! And hopefully asleep! But he was also getting rather heavy. He was a strong man, but even he had his limits.
It was decided that Jimmy would start on cleanup while Joel put Grian back into the nest.
“Okay, here we go. Hold on,” Avians were also known to be rather picky about who goes into their nest. As a non-avian, Joel preferred to err on the side of caution. Leaning over the couch, he tries to gently deposit Grian onto the cushions below.
Grian, as predicted, tries to claw his way back into Joel’s arms.
“I know, I’m such a meanie. But you go back to sleep now,” Honestly, it was like taking care of a gaggle of drunks. Which was like taking care of children.
“I’m sorry,” Grian mumbles.
“I know, I know,” Joel tries to smooth. Grian digs his claws into Joel’s arm again, prompting Joel to look down.
Grian was staring right at him. He was looking the most awake he’s looked in the past few minutes, “No, I’m sorry,”
“I know. Just go to sleep. We’ll give you some Tylenol when you wake up,” Joel says, removing the last of Grian out of his arms.
“Thanks,” Grian mumbles, officially conking out for the next hour or so.
Joel straightens up to find Jimmy looking at him with a shit eating grin on his face.
“You’re such a softie,”
“Shut up, no I’m not,”
“I think Lizzie would love to know-”
“Don’t you dare-”