A Persuasive Argument

A Reference Material Universe ficlet

Caskett, College AU

This is ridiculous. He's being ridiculous.

She hasn't seen her boyfriend in almost a week, not since a date that had ended in him walking her back to her dorm and hiding his face in his sleeve to sneeze half a dozen times, and frankly the separation is getting a little old.

Fine, he has a head cold. He feels crummy, she gets it. Colds suck; they take days to build up, and then they linger for maximum misery. But he's decided to hide in his apartment and wallow instead of taking some Dayquil and getting on with things. Like coming to class or seeing her.

And all of it with the explanation of "Well I don't want to get you sick, too, Kate."

Her boyfriend is an idiot. He's sweet to think of her and put her health above his like that, but he's still an idiot.

Of course she doesn't want him to get her sick, but wouldn't letting her help make it easier for him to get well faster? She can cook, but he won't even let her come over to make him soup. She could rub his head and pamper him just a little bit, the way he always pampers her. But no. No, he's suffering in silence, save for the occasional text to let her know he's at least still breathing.

Well, enough of that.

She waits to text him until she's outside his building, wanting to see if he'll let her up or if she's going to need to stoop to using the big guns: asking someone else to let her in and sneaking to his door. He'd offered to give her a key before spring break, but it hasn't happened yet; maybe it's time for her to nudge him about it and avoid this entire step next time.

How're you feeling?

His reply comes less than a minute later, and she imagines him sprawled on his couch, his feet sticking out from under the throw blanket she'd fished out of his linen closet soon after they'd started dating.

Like crap. Miss you and the ability to breathe through my nose. In exactly that order, I swear.

Her lips turn up. Well, at least he's once again capable of joking. The first day or two he'd been too miserable to even attempt humor.

Miss you too, babe. Can I get you anything? Your homework from the last few days? Food? 'Get well' sex? Gatorade?

Okay, it isn't exactly subtle, but screw it. She wants to help. And if she has to write a persuasive essay to convince him she's not worried about getting sick, then so be it. Because it's not even about sex, as much as she misses that, it's about how her chest has tightened in his absence, how her body misses the press of his at night, how her day isn't complete without him.

She's even prepared to watch some of his stupid movies if he would just quit being so damn stubborn.

Homework's been emailed in, doing okay on food and supplies, and god yes, but you'd probably never want to sleep with me again after this.

Kate rolls her eyes; Rick has his mother's flair for drama, and it's only been amplified with his illness.

Let me be the judge of that, will you?

When no response comes, she types out another message, tapping her foot against the sidewalk while she waits for the door to unlock for her.

Finally, the damn lock clicks and she's able to slip into Rick's building.

He greets her at his door with a red nose and bloodshot eyes, looking every bit as pitiful as she'd been imagining, but he doesn't shy away from the kiss she presses to his cheek.

"Hi," she says, dropping her bag in the entryway and crowding his chest to hug him. His arms band tightly around her, his body sagging, but she doesn't let him go. "Missed you."

With her ear against his chest, she doesn't hear any signs of wheezing when he speaks, which comforts her; it is just a head cold, not something worse like bronchitis or walking pneumonia.

"Missed you too, Kate," he rumbles.

Lifting her head, she brushes a hand through his hair, smoothing the shiny strands off his forehead. "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll make some dinner?"

"Telling me I smell?" he jokes, feigning shock when her face twists into a grimace.

"You are a little ripe," she admits, thumbing the growth of his beard. He has smelled worse, but she has no doubt that he'll feel better without the layer of oil and the sharp tang of sweat clinging to his skin. "Besides, the hot water will work wonders for the aches, and the steam could help clear your sinuses. Go."

Apparently deciding it's not worth arguing about, he nods after a moment, giving her a gentle squeeze. "I won't be long."

Kate shakes her head. "Take your time. I'll be here."

She watches him go before grabbing her bag and taking in the state of his apartment.

Usually immaculate, the place is in disarray, demonstrating exactly how under the weather he's been. Kate decides to tidy the kitchen first, since she'll need some of the counter space to make their dinner, and once she gets the food going, she'll straighten the rest of the place.

Rick emerges from the bedroom as she's putting the finishing touches on the living room. He looks refreshed, his eyes less clouded, and she blows him a kiss when he gapes at his space.

"Kate, you didn't need to do this," he says, shaking his head. "I didn't expect you to come over and be my maid."

"I know." One of her shoulders lifts. "But I'm here and I could. I know you would do it for me if it were the other way around."

She takes the garbage bag back into the kitchen, washing her hands and checking on their dinner. Rick trails her after another astounded look around, crowding her back at the stove, his arms curling around her waist. He inhales, pressing his mouth to her cheek.

"This is the first thing I've been able to smell since last week. And it is amazing."

"Me or dinner?" she asks, bemused.

"As wonderful as I'm sure you smell, it's definitely dinner this time."

A thrill rolls down her spine. She'd called her mom to get the recipe, deciding to forgo the typical 'remedy' of chicken soup, and now she's glad she had.

"Good. Hopefully you'll be able to taste it, too."

Rick squeezes her, humming in agreement. "Well it looks like it tastes great."

She laughs, palming his now-smooth cheek. "Hopefully it'll live up to the looks. It's my Nonna's recipe. She swore angel hair pasta and spicy sausage cream sauce was better, that it would burn away the cold instead of politely asking it to leave the way chicken noodle does."

He laughs, twisting away to hide his cough in his shoulder.

"I like the sound of that," he says on a groan, making her heart thump with sympathy.

"Me too," she murmurs, tapping the stirring spoon against the edge of the pan and setting it aside. "Come on," she adds, taking his hand and leading him to the other room, "you need to sit so you don't use up all your energy and pass out in your dinner."

Judging by the way he sags as soon as his back hits the couch cushions, he agrees wholeheartedly.

"I love you," he exhales, dropping his head back, allowing her to fuss over him with gentle hands. "And I'm sorry about this week. Didn't mean to disappear on you, just didn't want to get you sick."

Her fingers slide over his forehead, noting with gratitude that he's not warm. She drops a kiss on his lips, coming back for a second peck a moment later.

"I know," she says, pulling away when the timer on the microwave beeps. "I love you, too. And I was serious about that 'get well' sex, you know. The healing power of touch and all."

He laughs, catching her hand. "I was too, but I want you to still be attracted to me once I'm well. There's nothing sexy about a runny nose and coughing fits, especially when they occur mid-coitus."

She squeezes his fingers. There's very little he could do to dampen her attraction to him, even if that mental image does leave a little to be desired.

"So let's see what your Nonna's magic cure can do," he adds, wiggling his eyebrows. "Because the soul is game, Kate. The soul is so game, it's just the pesky body that's the problem."

"Be kind to your body, Rick," she teases over her shoulder. "I'm kind of fond of it."

He offers her a grin instead of commenting.

Despite the talk of 'get well' sex, they stretch out on the couch together after dinner, allowing their full bellies to dictate how lazy they're going to be. As she starts the movie - one of his favorites, no less - Rick's head lands on her chest, his breath warm through her shirt.

"Thank you for this," he rumbles, practically melting into her. Her lips press to his hair, her fingers sweeping along the tops of his shoulders, down his back. "For all of this."

"You would do the same for me," she murmurs.

He nods, blinking away sleepiness. "Of course I would."

"Then never doubt that I'll do it again," Kate insists. "And I'm not going to let you put me off for a week and stand outside poking you via phone, either. That key you talked about before? Give it."

Her boyfriend smiles against her chest. "Done. Does that mean no persuasive essays next time?" he asks, teasing her about her last text before he'd buzzed her up.

"As hot as I know that gets you," she says, lifting an eyebrow and her lips. "Nope. Just me. And Nonna's recipe."

"Hmm," he starts, pretending to think. "I can live with that."

Her fingers slip into his hair, pressing gentle circles against his scalp.

"Good choice, babe. Now rest," she commands softly.

He falls asleep before the movie is even half-over, leaving her to hold him and listen to him breathe until the pull of slumber is too hard for her to ignore.

This was (loosely) based on the prompt: "TFLN: (978): Would you like me to write a persuasive essay on how you should let me suck your dick?" and I want to say i-prefer-west-side , allylobster , and whatifellinlovewith are to thank for this one. :)

Other stories in this universe (in chronological order):

Late Night Study Break
Reference Material
TGIF
A Persuasive Argument
Extracurricular Activities
Make it So Easy
summa cum laude
Always Right

and more tagfics and drabbles, which can be found on my tumblr at bunysliper dot tumblr slash reference - material!