Work Text:
“I think you’d get some work done if you stopped staring at me, Miya.”
“And I think ya need to walk away so I can get back to starin’.”
“I’m sure you weren’t raised to speak so unprofessionally at work. Especially with your boss.”
“No sir, I was not.”
“So you’re going to stop?”
“Nope. Can’t do, Omi. Our conversations are the only motivation I need to come to work.”
Kiyoomi huffs. “And not the money? Or the desire to be a contributing member of society?”
“No. My boyfriend is loaded and I’m sure he’d love it if I sat at home all pretty. I don’t care about contributin’ to society, I come here to contribute for you.”
“How does your boyfriend feel about you flirting with me, Miya?”
“He says he loves it and prefers that I don’t stop, Omi.”
“Stop calling me that horrendous nickname.”
“Okay, Omi. Now will ya kindly turn around?”
Kiyoomi wishes he could sew Miya’s mouth shut. It says the stupidest, most annoying things ever and Kiyoomi deserves to hear none of it. But now he can’t walk far away from this nonsense cause he’ll be giving into Miya’s wishes.
“What, yer gonna stand here all day long just cause I told ya to turn away?”
Well, fuck Miya and fuck everything ever.
“No. I’m leaving.”
“Yeah, and I’d prefer if ya would hurry.”
In a final act of defiance, Kiyoomi walks away backwards, refusing to give Miya the satisfaction of staring at his ass.
“Keep that up, darlin’. I can look at other parts of you.”
Kiyoomi is going to quit.
***
Motoya enters Kiyoomi’s office about an hour later, only to find Kiyoomi fuming, pouting, and glaring at his screen. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so common to find Kiyoomi in this state everyday. Really, it’s getting boring now.
“Why are you shooting lasers at your computer again, Kiyo? Did you drop by Atsumu’s desk again?”
The question makes Kiyoomi turn his head towards Komori, his wonderful cousin and head of accounting. “What makes you say that?”
Komori lets out a huff of disbelief. “Really? You’re asking me that, as if you don’t look so annoyed every time you interact with your assistant?”
“I do not!”
“Sure, sure. Imagine if anyone else had to see you, a 40-year-old CEO be so reactive around his 31-year-old, hot-”
“I am not reactive around Miya, Motoya! And don’t call him hot.”
“Jealousy is an ugly look, Kiyo.”
“Toya, what is it with you and all these accusations? I’m not jealous and Miya isn’t hot.”
“But he does make you reactive.” The glare Kiyoomi sends Motoya could freeze anyone else over. “Ok, ok! I’m sorry, I’ll stop for today. Here are the reports you asked for.”
“That’s it? You could’ve given them to Miya, instead of coming in to bother me.”
“I could have, but then I’d miss out on annoying you about your boyfriend.”
“I’m going to fire you.”
“No you won’t, and you can’t even if you did want to.”
Sometimes Kiyoomi can’t decide who is the biggest cause of headaches in this office. His cousin, or Miya.
***
The next morning, Kiyoomi wakes up feeling the worst he’s ever felt in years. Maybe it’s just his aging body, but surely a random morning can’t feel like death. His body feels heavy, as if there’s something tying him to the bed preventing him from moving even a finger. The spot behind his eyes and under his eyebrows hurts, there’s a sting in his nose, his mouth feels dry and swallowing also hurts, and don’t even get him started on the sweat. There’s sweat all along his back, chest, and neck but it feels cool. He might even go as far as saying that it’s cold and it’s making him shiver. And yet, somehow, his cheeks feel really hot. He’d bet money they’re really red too.
There is too much, way too much going on, and he doesn’t know what to do. He knows he’s fallen sick, and there’s not much he can do about it. Before he can force himself to move and find some kind of medication, a cool hand runs through his hair. It’s cooler than the sweat on his skin, but it doesn’t make him shiver. It’s also warm, but not quite like the scorching heat under his cheeks. This hand feels just right and it soothes all the ache in his body. Just for a moment, maybe, but a moment is more than enough.
“Ya have a fever, darlin’. Ya need to rest.”
Kiyoomi grunts, very displeased at the diagnosis that he already knew. His sounds of displeasure make the man next to him chuckle, so Kiyoomi decides that perhaps his suffering is worth it. To be fair, everything is worth it if it makes his boyfriend laugh.
“Why, thank you. I’d say everything is also worth it if I get to see you pout.”
And with all the energy in his body, which isn’t much, he replies, “I don’t pout.”
His answer makes Atsumu laugh so hard that someone would think it’s the joke of the century. Perhaps it is. The laugh is cut short by a wretched cough that leaves Kiyoomi’s chest, and he has never hated anything more for making Atsumu’s laugh end.
But, alas, the sinful and disrespectful coughing does not stop. Suddenly, two arms are forcing Kiyoomi to sit up as they pat his back. And only after the coughing has subsided, do the arms move to gentle rubbing.
“Do ya think ya can hold on for a few minutes? I’m gonna get some medicine and grab a few other things.”
Kiyoomi nods his head yes, although he isn’t quite sure why Atsumu asked if he’d be okay being left alone. Why wouldn’t he be? But, again, it’s all okay because Atsumu gives his forehead a kiss before leaving. Maybe falling sick isn’t so bad afterall.
***
Nope. He lied. He’s such a big, fat liar because falling sick is the worst thing humanity has ever come across. Who even invented this? Why was it approved? If Kiyoomi were the CEO of that company, he’d have never allowed this. His bones ache like a bitch but they also are rattling because he’s so cold. But he’s also feeling equally hot and it’s the worst feeling ever. Worse than when he was battling with the emotions of hating Atsumu but also being in love with him. The ache back then was much nicer and warmer.
Or that might have been because it’s Atsumu. Everything about Atsumu is much nicer and warmer, Kiyoomi thinks.
“I’m sorry, baby. I really am. I wish I could make this stop,” says a smooth, honey like voice. Hands continue to run through his hair, but he wishes they were Atsumu’s.
Where even is Atsumu? Wasn’t he supposed to be gone for only a few minutes? Kiyoomi forces his eyes open and a beautiful smile graces his eyes. It makes him smile, too, until he remembers that he’s supposed to be looking for his boyfriend.
“Where is Atsumu?” He asks the stranger with the nice smile.
“I’m Atsumu, darlin’. I’m right here.”
Kiyoomi narrows his eyes in suspicion and pouts. “No you’re not. You are very handsome, I must admit, but you are not my beautiful boyfriend.”
The man sighs, “Not again,” he says. As if he anticipated this happening and wishes that it hadn’t. “Omi, baby, I promise it is me. Yer sick and delirious.”
Kiyoomi pushes the stranger’s hands away and backs into the bed. “No! You’re not my Atsu. I would be able to tell if you were. Sure, you sound the same and strangely your hands feel the same too.” He then reaches out to feel the stranger’s arms and chest, “And you’re built like him, too. But I know you’re not. You’re a demon and you’re trying to deceive me!”
“Oh my fuckin’ god, I cannot believe that I love you and find you adorable despite you acting so insane. Okay, how about this, you take your second dose of medication and have some of the soup, and I’ll bring back Atsumu.”
“Aha! So you did kidnap him to try to take his place!”
“I- fine, yes, yes I did. But you’re very smart and love yer boyfriend so much that ya caught me. Do we have a deal?”
If Kiyoomi’s smile is anything to go by, he feels very pleased with himself and almost proud of his victory. He nods his head and moves back closer to the demon, prepared to save his Atsu. So, he lets himself be fed and medicated, all while suspiciously eyeing the demon. And, when he finally feels himself get drowsy again, he knows he’s going to wake up a hero.
The next time Kiyoomi wakes up, he feels a lot better. His bones hurt less and breathing feels easier. He’s also very happy that the cool feeling is coming from the open window and not his skin. But his room feels awfully lonely and he can’t seem to remember why.
Just then, a pair of feet shuffle into the bedroom from the kitchen, and suddenly the room isn’t as lonely as it was just a few seconds ago.
“Oh, yer awake! Welcome back to the land of the livin’ sleepin’ beauty.” Kiyoomi questioningly hums, very confused as to what Atsumu means. “Ya were asleep for ten hours. It’s about 7 pm. now.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah “oh”. Do ya wanna eat somethin’?”
“I don’t want soup.”
Atsumu softly smiles. For what reason, Kiyoomi can’t tell. “Okay, I can make ya somethin’ else.”
But the thought of being apart from Atsumu for even one more second makes him want to cry. The way Atsumu rushes towards him and gently holds his face tells him that he did, in fact, begin crying.
“Oh, baby. What’s wrong? Why the tears, hmm?”
Kiyoomi desperately grabs onto Atsumu’s hands. “Don’t go, please.”
Atsumu wipes away Kiyoomi’s tears and agrees to order food instead. Maybe Kiyoomi will let him leave to pick up the delivery. Kiyoomi forces Atsumu into the bed with him and after manually maneuvering Atsumu into the perfect position, climbs into his lap. Atsumu is completely helpless against his boyfriend’s antics and decides to go with the flow.
A very sniffly Kiyoomi makes himself as small as possible to fit perfectly onto Atsumu’s lap then jams his head into the crook of Atsumu’s neck.
“You’re supposed to hold me, by the way,” he says. And that is what Atsumu does. Slowly, but surely, Kiyoomi settles down into a nap; not quite asleep but walking along the edge. “I need to keep you safe from the demons.”
***
Kiyoomi does not let him go get their food. No, this grown man with greying hair, crows feet, and a flu insists on making the journey to their front door together to pick up one bag of food. Because if Atsumu left him alone for even one second, he would break down into tears in the middle of their bed.
Atsumu wonders how he got to this point. When he first joined the company, he instantly developed a crush on Kiyoomi. The Sakusa Kiyoomi, might he add. The stoic, realistic, goal oriented man who didn’t take anyone’s bullshit. He was kind, yes, still is. But he was serious where it mattered and Atsumu found that very charming. Plus, it didn’t hurt that Kiyoomi was a sight for sore eyes. His dark features contrasted so perfectly against his skin, that it was like an angel painted this canvas themself.
But then, Kiyoomi opened his mouth and Atsumu was done for as soon as he heard Kiyoomi’s voice. Sue a man for having the hots for voices, but you can’t blame him. So when Atsumu heard Kiyoomi’s deep, smooth voice he knew he needed to have Kiyoomi. No matter what.
Since then, he had been relentless in his flirting, but careful enough to not come off as rude or entitled. The more he learnt about Kiyoomi, the more he got to peel every layer of him. Maybe it was his handsome face or his wonderful charm, but Kiyoomi agreed to go on a date. And since then they’re come a long way to build their committed, exclusive, romantic sugar daddy and baby relationship. Others may call it an actual relationship. Semantics, really.
Then came the time when Kiyoomi fell sick for the first time. Atsumu anticipated that Kiyoomi would be just as composed, albeit a bit in pain, while ill. What he didn’t expect was the face blindness followed by the extreme levels of clinginess. Never, ever in his life had he expected to see Kiyoomi behave like this.
Sure, Kiyoomi would be soft and gentle with him at home, would dote on him whenever he asked, and would provide all the attention Atsumu demanded. And maybe sometimes he also asked for said attention, but never like this. Sick Kiyoomi is a whole new battlefield, and Atsumu thinks that this repressed behaviour needs some kind of intervention. Like that of a therapist. But he doesn’t hate it. He loves taking care of Kiyoomi, loves being needed and demanded for, loves that Kiyoomi confesses so much of his love when he can’t tell he’s talking to Atsumu, or that he’s reduced to a crying mess when Atsumu isn’t around. It’s nice to be loved this much, and it’s nicer to be reminded of it, too.
***
It just gets a bit too… interesting sometimes. Like right now, when Kiyoomi insists on being spoon fed their delivered food. Because, and Atsumu quotes, “I’ll heal faster if you feed me. Do you want me to stay sick, Atsu?” and then proceeded to give him the puppy eyes. And despite it all, Atsumu doesn’t have it in him to deny Kiyoomi of anything. Never has and never will, because no matter how dramatic Kiyoomi can be or how old they get, he will always be Atsumu’s baby. And that is a fact even Kiyoomi can’t deny. At least, not after Atsumu had played recordings of a previously sick Kiyoomi.
So yes, Atsumu lets Kiyoomi crawl into his lap once again, to be fed every bite of his meal with all the love in the world.
“You have to blow it too, Atsu.”
“Omi… ya really don’t need me to blow your food when the spoon is right in front of yer face.”
Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say because Kiyoomi pouts and looks like he’s on the verge of crying. A lot seems to be making him cry today.
“You don’t love me anymore,” he says, painfully. As if this is the end of the world.
“No, Omi, I do. I just don’t see why I have to blow it fer ya.”
“Yeah, because you hate me!”
Kiyoomi pushes the spoon away and tries to scramble away. Atsumu can thank his reflexes for managing to put the bowl away in time before anything spills, and also managing to pull Kiyoomi back. It does help that Kiyoomi is very slow right now and didn’t get too far.
“No, come back. I’m sorry, okay? Please?” Atsumu begs. He wipes Kiyoomi’s tears again, which don’t show any signs of running out. And then kisses Kiyoomi’s very wet eyes, his scrunched eyebrows, red cheeks, even redder nose, forehead moles because nothing is complete without them, and then, against his preservation instincts, Kiyoomi’s very dry and sick lips. But it was all worth it, because even in their chapped state, they taste better than anything else he has ever known.
Perhaps, Kiyoomi isn’t the only one who loses his inhibitions when ill.
After much placating, Atsumu manages to feed, hydrate, and medicate Kiyoomi enough to send him into a much needed nap again. He uses whatever little energy he has left to clean up and place cold washcloths on Kiyoomi’s forehead. Soon enough, he too, falls asleep.
When Atsumu wakes up, it’s to a hand running through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. He opens his eyes to a very sane and healthy looking Kiyoomi, with just as guilty looking eyes.
“Hi.” Kiyoomi says. Atsumu is glad to hear his voice sound normal too.
“Heya. How are ya feeling?”
“Peachy, but fine. Thank you for taking care of me.”
Atsumu sits up and grabs the hand in his hair, bringing it down to give it a soft kiss. “Ya don’t need to thank me, darlin’, I’ll always take care of ya. It would be a shame if I didn’t.”
Kiyoomi lets out a chuckle that Atsumu wishes to capture in a little jar. “I’m still sorry. I know I can be a lot.” He squeezes Atsumu’s hand as an apology.
And Atsumu wants to deny it, but both of them know that’s not true. Even if he did try to deny it, Kiyoomi would only level him with a very unimpressed stare.
“Well, ya are. But, I still love ya through all of it.” And, having gained a bit of his energy back, Atsumu continues, “Plus, when else do I get to see ya be such a clown one second and a big teddy bear the next, hmm?”
The cheeky smile he sends Kiyoomi’s way quiets all the guilt in Kiyoomi’s chest. Atsumu deserved it all, and he will deserve it for the rest of his life. But Kiyoomi doesn’t say that out loud, because there’s something in that statement that Atsumu will never stop teasing him about. And also because he may, or may not, need some time to accept the revelation that just dawned upon him.
“You are the worst thing to ever exist, and you deserved every second of your suffering,” is what he settles for.
Atsumu laughs at that, fully with his entire chest. He loves this sassy version of Kiyoomi the most, even more than the clingy, cuddly one. Because this Kiyoomi makes him laugh.
“Glad to know ya feel well enough to insult the boyfriend who took care of ya so well.”
Kiyoomi knows that Atsumu is joking, but he still pulls the blond up to give him the sweetest of all kisses. A part of him feels so grateful to have found this man, who takes care of him through all stages of his psychosis and loves him through all of them.
The rest of the day passes by pretty quickly between helping Kiyoomi freshen up, cleaning up the room, and catching up on some well deserved rest before they both have to go back to work the next day. Atsumu felt a hint of a fever returning back, but it was gone quicker than it arrived. Aside from the occasional coughing, Kiyoomi seems fine and it puts his heart at ease.
Although, he does hate that they have to go back to work. He enjoyed being at home all day with Kiyoomi, free from all responsibilities and the professional distance they have to keep at work. He enjoyed not being ‘Miya’ most of all. He just wishes that they could stay home for a day or two more so he can have a sane, conscious Kiyoomi to himself. One he can spend actual time with. But, he also knows that his very responsible boyfriend would chastise him for skipping work and abusing his “boyfriend of the CEO” privileges, so he keeps it all to himself.
Nothing about Atsumu ever escapes Kiyoomi, though. He notices every shift in Atsumu’s expressions, and right now is no different.
“What’s on your mind?”
Atsumu is broken out of his trance. “Hmm?”
“I said, what’s on your mind?”
“Oh, nothin’ really. Just some wishful thinkin’.” Atsumu smiles softly, and it’s beautiful but Kiyoomi knows there’s more.
So he pauses the show they’re watching and turns all his attention to his boyfriend.
“About what?”
Atsumu sighs, “I know ya hate when I try to make us miss work, but I really wish we would. I just missed spendin’ time with ya, and you being sick made me want it more. I just wanna be with ya when yer conscious and Omi-like.”
Kiyoomi takes in the expression on Atsumu’s face and figures that, maybe this time, they can miss out on a day or two. Plus, if they don’t leave the house then who’s to say how long Kiyoomi actually was sick?
“Fine, we can skip.”
Atsumu turns his neck towards Kiyoomi so quickly that he hears it crack. “What?!”
“I said, we can stay at home. For one more day.”
“Two.”
“Atsumu, one is enough.”
This time, it’s Atsumu’s turn to pout and manipulate Kiyoomi’s love to his advantage.
“Omi, please? It’s just an extra day.”
“One too many for my responsibilities.”
“Aren’t I one of yer responsibilities too?” Atsumu asks in a very small, soft tone. Kiyoomi knows, he knows what Atsumu is trying to do, but his heart is too weak against it regardless. “Or do ya only love me when I’m taking care of ya?”
Kiyoomi can’t have that, can he? What a preposterous notion.
“Fine, fine. We can stay at home.”
In an instant, Atsumu’s sad expression shifts into the widest grin ever. Kiyoomi knows he’s been played, he always has known, but the smile Atsumu sends his way makes it all worth it. He texts Komori that he’s taking another two days off because he still isn’t feeling the best.
***
They don’t do anything special on their days off. At least, not these ones. Aside from the fact that they’ve subjected themselves to hiding because of their lie, they’re quite enjoying being at home. Lazing away, with no responsibilities to attend to nor any deadlines to keep track of. Just them, in their cozy apartment watching shitty reality tv, and basking in each other’s warmth.
It’s nice, Kiyoomi thinks, to have Atsumu all to himself like this. Where he doesn’t have to look for excuses to visit Atsumu’s desk just to catch a glimpse of the blond or to have a conversation with him. Most everyone in the office knows they’re in a relationship and have been for quite a while now—if you consider three years to be quite a while—but he still has enough shame to not be so hopeless at work. It would be so embarrassing if people saw him be a fool in love, in addition to the fact that neither Atsumu nor Komori would let him live it down.
But, still, he feels starved of Atsumu all day long. Not being able to hear his voice whenever he wants, not being able to hold him, kiss him, or map every inch of his skin in detail. If he could, he would have Atsumu sit right across from him all day long, but apparently that’s not a normal thing to do.
A part of him is glad, elated even, to have these two days off. If Atsumu hadn’t requested it for them, he might have done it himself.
Soon enough, his love for Atsumu redirects itself to a certain train of thought he has been avoiding. It has been gnawing at him, but ever since Atsumu took care of him, it has been incessantly banging at his chest. The sound is so loud that he can hear it in his ears and if he opens his mouth wrong, then the sound will spill out into one, big, question.
Oh, he’s so glad to have two days off or he’d go crazy in his office.
The occasion presents itself two weeks later, when Kiyoomi is suffering from a massive headache. He briefly wonders if he’s falling sick again so soon, but Atsumu assures him that the headache is a result of his extremely busy meetings schedule. The stress has built up so much that now even thinking feels like death. Atsumu has been massaging his head for the better part of fifteen minutes now. That, along with the pain medication he took after dinner, is starting to make him feel a little bit better. The pain has gone from a loud drum all over his skull, to a milder pain in his temples and under his eyebrows. It hurts, yes, but he could be dying so it’s okay.
Atsumu offers to draw them a bath, suggesting that it might soothe Kiyoomi enough to relieve his stress or even help him fall asleep. It’s in the bath that Kiyoomi lets his mind wander yet again.
“I’m sorry, you keep having to help me.”
Atsumu lets out a hum of confusion, not understanding what help he has been offering. “What help?”
“You know, with me falling sick every now and then, my headaches, and other pains I sometimes get.”
“C’mon, Omi, ya know I don’t mind takin’ care of ya.”
“You say that, but it’s only going to get worse.” He feels Atsumu’s arms around him get tighter, and he grabs onto them for comfort.
“Kiyoomi, I love ya. We all fall ill, get headaches, and other random pains. Hell, my back was hurting last week and ya helped me through that. How’s this any different?”
“But you’ll have to do this for the rest of your life.”
Atsumu doesn’t say anything to that statement, and for a brief second Kiyoomi fears that he said something true, and that Atsumu is truly considering this. Maybe he doesn’t want to do this for Kiyoomi for the rest of his life, afterall.
But then, before Kiyoomi spirals any further, Atsumu leans forward placing his weight on Kiyoomi’s back. He moves close to Kiyoomi’s ear, as if saying his next words is a secret between them and nothing else. Not even the walls of their bathroom.
“Ya wanna spend the rest of yer life with me, Kiyoomi?”
And Kiyoomi blushes. So much is going on that his body can’t decide what to focus on. Atsumu’s teasing, whisper voice? How close they are? The realization of what he just implied to Atsumu? Or that Atsumu didn’t reject him and is actually teasing him about it?
His entire body burns with an unknown emotion, and the warm blush travels from his cheeks, down to his neck, all the way to his back and chest. Atsumu gently follows this path with his fingers and it feels like the most intimate act they’ve ever shared. He then softly chuckles and leaves a kiss on Kiyoomi’s neck.
“If ya want me to be yer husband, ya gotta ask properly, sweetheart. Don’t cover it up with some bullshit about my burdens of takin’ care of the love of my life. Can ya do that fer me, hmm? Use yer big boy words.”
If the human body could combust out of embarrassment, Kiyoomi’s would at this very moment. He would fall apart in a thousand pieces then melt into the water they’re sitting in. The things Atsumu says and does, as if they’re the most casual things to say, make him feel so small and vulnerable. So… seen, and he hates it. He tries to wriggle out of Atsumu’s grasp so he can run away and scream into a pillow like a teenage girl and not a middle aged man in love, but Atsumu holds him in place.
“No runnin’ away, Kiyoomi. Finish what ya started.”
And because of some divine burst of energy, Kiyoomi turns around to glare at Atsumu for all the embarrassing things he has been saying.
“You! You- are a demon! Who says things like that? Are you crazy?! I hate you, you’re embarrassing and I demand you let me go right this instant.”
Atsumu just stares at him with an amused gleam in his eyes, and Kiyoomi hates this even more.
“Omi, are ya really goin’ to give me a not-proposal in our bathtub and then run away?”
“I didn’t propose and I am not running away. You are mean.”
“Yeah, a mean man you want to spend the rest of yer life with, of course. C’mon, Kiyoomi. Ask me.”
“Not here, you heathen! I am not proposing while we’re in the bath and I’m experiencing the worst headache of my life.”
“Okay, tomorrow morning then?”
Kiyoomi slaps Atsumu’s chest because the man will not shut his stupid mouth. “Stop planning important life events like a schedule.”
“What can I say, future husband, I learnt from the best.”
Atsumu loosens his arms just a little and Kiyoomi takes the opportunity to leave. He’s out of the tub and already drying off before Atsumu can react. But he does follow behind because he refuses to let this go. Not until he’s a fiance.
“Omiiiii, ya can’t just leave.” Atsumu pouts.
Kiyoomi only glares and walks out of the bathroom. After they’re both dressed, he goes to his home office room, and comes back with a ring box. Still seething and embarrassed, he snatches Atsumu’s hand and slides the ring on.
“There, you’re a fiance now.”
“I didn’t say yes, though.”
“You- what?”
“I said, I didn’t say yes. In fact, you didn’t even ask a question.”
Kiyoomi’s racing mind and heart come to a screeching halt, as he realizes that Atsumu is right. His question may have been implied, but Atsumu never said yes. Atsumu can practically hear all the thoughts running around Kiyoomi’s brain, so he decides to stop the teasing.
He steps close to Kiyoomi and pulls him in a hug. “Kiyoomi, ask me.”
And finally, maybe for the first time in his life, Kiyoomi’s brain feels clear and grounded.
“Will you marry me, Atsumu? Will you spend the rest of your life taking care of me and letting me love you with all the love my body can muster? Will you-”
“Yes. Yes, I will. Also, I think you may have passed on your sickness to me too.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll take care of you when you’re sick too. But then you have to love me in return.”
“I’ve never stopped since the day I saw you, and I clearly don’t plan on doing so either. Does this mean I can stare at yer ass all day at work now?”
“Absolutely not. But I will allow five minutes.”