Chapter Text
Style stared at his phone for the millionth time that day…
"You seem pretty distracted today," His father noted softly.
Style nodded without looking up from his phone, He was more than distracted, He was waiting for bad news.
It had started a couple of weeks ago and he knew it would end up badly, he just didn't know how bad it would get.
Once Lily's issue was wrapped up with her death marked as suicide, Fadel had sworn to Style that he would work hard to repay him, work hard to make sure that all the work Style had done all those years to get him back the restaurant wasn't wasted.
And despite Style's insistence that none of it was needed, and that he didn't expect any paybacks of any sort, Fadel was having none of it.
Fadel soon changed the restaurant's normal working hours, working extra shifts when his workers couldn't, being on top of everything that happened in the restaurant, from the day to day work till something as minor as the type of cleaners they used, always being the one to close and the first one to open in the wee hours of the morning.
Style had let it go initially, knowing that Fadal was seeking a sense of normality after all those years, seeking to get back the part of his life he had liked plenty even in the midst of everything bad that was happening, but the more time passed the more he realized that Fadel hadn't been saying it figuratively when he said he would pay Style back.
He was working all those hours so that he would pay back to Style the money he paid to get the restaurant if the regular deposits being made into Style’s account by Fadel were any indication.
When the first deposit popped up in Style's bank account, He sulked about it all day, giving Fadel the cold shoulder but everything crumbled the second Fadel hugged him and told him that he needed it, he needed to assure himself that he was contributing as much as Style did if not pay him back.
Style didn't even bother to comment on the matter anymore, because he would never deny Fadel anything he needed, even if he didn't like it.
Fadel had suffered enough as it was; it was time for things to change for the better, not the worse…
But time had proved that he should have done something about it, he should have at least spoken to Fadel about the physical limitations that both of them needed to stick to, he should have reminded him that five years were added to his age, that he wasn't living in optimum conditions and things were bound to take their toll on him.
Especially, because Style knew better than anyone the price of working day and night…
He had watched as Fadel came back to the house more tired day after day, dropping asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, walking up at the crack of dawn to repeat it again.
Style missed him despite living with him, missed lazy mornings with him… missed late nights where both of them just fell into bed and didn't fall asleep till the crack of dawn, those last few weeks had been nothing but work… they barely even got a date night, and Style had spent most of of those just waiting for Fadel to come back and get ready, before he would end up calling it quits in the middle because Fadel was too tired or because they would have to repeat the entire ordeal all over again the following day.
But that particular day had been different…
Fadel didn't wake up with the alarm, Style was the one who woke him up hours later, when it was time for him to get up to get to the garage, he hadn't noticed that Fadel was late, his love and attention starved self basking in spending few more hours wrapped in Fadel's arms in bed.
But it wasn't just that he overslept, it wasn't just that he had succumbed to his tiredness…
Fadel had been warm to the touch as Style woke him up, Fadel justified it that he was overheated and it had been a hot night, that it was nothing a cold shower wouldn't fix.
Style wasn't buying it…
Within minutes, Fadel had rushed out of the house without breakfast, without even saying goodbye to Style.
Style had known something was wrong, That things had finally came to a head, Fadel was falling ill if not because of tiredness then because he was barely treating himself as a human, and knowing Fadel and how stubborn he was, there was no way he would admit it till he could no longer stand on his own two feet.
So all he waited now was a call from Bison, a call to pick up his partner and start another ordeal of getting him to admit he needed to rest, He had given Bison a heads-up that something with wrong with Fadel that morning after Fadel rushed out of the house, knowing full well that Bison wouldn't mind opening the restaurant, and needing him to keep an eye out for anything that might happen to his already worn out partner.
Bison had sighed when Style told him the state Fadel was in as he left the house that morning.
“Yeah… He won’t admit it till he can no longer move, I will keep an eye on him and let you know if he takes a turn for the worse, which he will, he is not resting or letting us work… gosh, I was going to throw a party when I came and the restaurant was still locked.”
Style didn’t need to be told that, he already knew, he was pretty sure Fadel had been feeling unwell for days and hadn’t been letting him or Bison or anyone know for that matter…
“Son?”
Style looked up from the phone to his father.
“Did something happen with your partner?”
“He is ill… But he doesn’t want to admit it yet…”
Style’s father raised an eyebrow.
“Why do you need him to admit it? If he is unwell, stop him before he can hurt himself any further…”
“He won’t let me…”
“I don’t think you need his permission to force him to stop, Style… You cannot wait for him to crash to break his fall when you can stop him from falling in the first place…”
Style sighed, looking around the garage for a second, trying to judge how much of a bad idea would it be to leave his father in charge and head off.
“Go get your partner… I will take care of the place here today…”
Style nodded gratefully to his father, going to take off his overalls and pulling his shirt on.
His father was right… He didn’t have to wait for Fadel to fall so that he would catch him…
—
The first thing that alerted Style that there was a problem was that Bison was shouting, his voice booming across the entirety of the restaurant.
Style pushed the back door to the kitchen in and found everyone in the kitchen looking stricken, Bison and Fadel nowhere to be found…
But the shouting was there… louder now, that Style was inside…
“Where are they?”
“The Office, there has been an accident…”
Style didn’t let the worker finish before he rushed to the office, his heart thudding in his chest, horrible things crossing his mind in the moments it took him to open the office door.
He pushed the door open, and Bison stopped shouting, turning to the door, his eyes shooting fire, ready to start shouting again, the was he held himself told Style that Bison was doing everything he could to just keep it at shouting and not do anything else.
“What happened?” Style looked between the two brother, before his eyes landed on Fadel and he noticed the heavily bandaged hand resting in his lap.
He rushed to Fadel’s side, picking up his hand and trying to check what kind of injury he had sustained, only for Fadel to pull away with a bit of force, but not without Style feeling the head radiating off his skin.
“I am fine…”
“Like hell you are !! The idiot grew dizzy in the kitchen and leaned on the grill to steady himself… THE WORKING GRILL!!”
Style winched, staring at Fadel, who was doing everything in his power to avoid looking at Style while his eyes shot daggers at Bison.
The mere fact that he hadn't shot him down meant that Fadel didn't have enough energy to spare.
“Not only did he almost burn his hand, but he refused to admit he had a fever… the reason he grew dizzy in the first place, if that was one of the other workers, he would have berated them within an inch of their lives, but him… NOOOO!! He has to stay in the fuckin kitchen.”
“I am fine, Bison… How many times do I have to repeat myself?” Fadel grumbled.
Style didn’t need to look closely to know that he indeed had a fever if the sweat lining his hair and the tremors running through his form - that he kept trying to hide by moving his back - were any indication.
“Style! Take him home before I call an ambulance and give him an actual injury that will keep him in a hospital bed.”
Style nodded, reaching out to place a hand on Fadel’s shoulder, only for Fadel to shrug it away, still not facing Style or looking at him.
“I said I am fine… We have to get back to work before…”
He tried to stand, tried to give Bison and Style one of his trademark firm looks, only to stop mid-sentence as he paled considerably, his good hand coming up to hold firmly onto the edge of the desk as he swayed on his feet.
Hadn’t it been for Style’s arm around his waist, He would have dropped to the ground.
“Bro… That’s enough… Please cut it off and go back home to rest…”
“Bison…”
Style decided to do as his father said, to stop Fadel before crashing…
“Don’t worry, Bison… I will take him back…”
Fadel turned his head to stare at Style, looking at him with hardly suppressed annoyance.
Style raised a single eyebrow, showing more than telling that the issue was done already, both of them weren’t going to let Fadel work, and that was that…
“If he gives you trouble, call me! I will help tie him to the damn bed…”
“Remind me to ask Kant to return the favor, brother dear…” Fadel said with barely suppressed anger, his voice too rough and weak, that Style flinched as he led him out of the office and into the car.
—
The drive home was calm… too calm that Style’s skin was crawling, it wasn't easily to drag Fadel from the restaurant, but it would be an entire ordeal to keep him in the house let alone resting.
“Do you need to go to the hospital to get this hand checked?”
“I am fine, it’s barely anything…”
Style side-eyed him, knowing full well that his partner was downplaying his injuries.
“Your brand of fine, or mine? Because from the look of it, it’s not the same…”
Fadel didn’t say anything, only looking at Style’s profile, as if he was trying to come up with a way to say the truth without worrying him.
“It’s not as bad…”
“How bad is it then? Because you keep saying you are fine, when you are literally burning up, I am sorry but I am inclined to not believe you…”
“Style…”
“How bad, Fadel?”
“Not bad… it’s… It’s not a first-degree burn, but it’s not…”
“It’s not what?”
“I touched the grill for a mere second, there’s a strip of blistered skin in the middle of my hand, and that is that, it will heal within days, nothing worth going to the hospital for…”
“OK, that’s the hand, what about the fever? Can we check with the doctor for that?”
“No…”
“No?”
“I mean… Let’s just go home, I am sure it’s nothing…”
“It’s something, Bison said you were dizzy and that’s why you leaned on the grill. I saw you about to faint in the office as well… it’s definitely something…”
“I am tired and just need to sleep… I am pretty sure it will be fine once I get some rest…”
It didn’t fly off Style's head that Fadel had just admitted that he was tired, but he let it slide for the sake of the bigger issue.
He was contemplating checking in with a doctor behind Fadel's back, but he would need to be examined, there's no way the doctor would be able to prescribe something to him without examining him.
Soon Style noticed that Fadel was nodding off, so he kept quiet till they arrived back home, getting calmly out of the car before opening the door on Fadel’s side and touching him gently.
“Fadel!! C’mon… We are home!!”
Fadel opened his eyes with obvious hardship before he seemed to register his surroundings. Style reached to undo the seat belt, helping Fadel out of the car and supporting him till he safely let him sit on the edge of the bed.
Fadel leaned back, resting on the pillows, not even bothering to get out of his shirt.
“Don’t fall asleep yet, I will get you some medicine…”
Fadel hummed, but despite that, he turned to his side and closed his eyes…
Style stared at him for a second before he disappeared into the bathroom, checking the medicine cabinet as he heard his phone chime with a new message from Bison.
“Let me know if you need help, He will fight you tooth and nail not to take any med…”
Style shook his head. He knew Bison knew Fadel the best, but Style didn't get that far by letting Fadel get away with things; he was the one who bullied Fadel into going out with him, so bullying him into taking a couple of pills shouldn't be hard.
He grabbed what he needed from the cabinet before going back into the room and sitting next to Fadel, who now had his back turned to the door, his entire form screamed how tired and worn out he was.
“Fadel! C’mon… Take some meds before falling asleep…”
“I don’t need any… I will be fine…”
“Fadel, Please… For me”
Fadel ignored Style for a second, but Style didn’t stop…
“C’mon… Don’t make me call Bison…”
“He won’t be able to do a thing, if he even tried to put his hand on me with one of those ropes, he would end up with it wrapped around his own neck.”
“Then, at least put my mind at ease and take something, it’s just something for the pain and fever…”
“Style… Shut up!”
“I will shut up if you take them…”
Fadel sat up in bed, he looked paler than a few minutes ago, his eyes glassy, but looking angry nonetheless.
“If that is what it takes to shut you up, then give them to me…”
Style handed Fadel the pills, and he swallowed them dry, refusing the glass of water offered to him before he put his head back on the pillows.
Style moved around the room for a couple of minutes, picking up some stray pieces of clothes, before he changed and went back to the room to lie down next to Fadel.
He reached to wrap one arm around Fadel's waist, glad when Fadel didn't try to move it away, soon he heard Fadel's labored breath grow a bit steadier as he fell asleep, Style fighting his own drowsiness to watch over his partner.
Fadel might not admit he was sick, but Style knew it could only get worse from there…
—
Fadel didn’t remember the last time he was sick… simply because he refused to admit he was whenever he had fallen ill with something.
For one because Lily never allowed it, he always had to be the image of strength and control, always at her peck and call, the mere excuse of feeling under the weather wouldn't have pod well with her, and for another because admitting he was unwell would make Bison worry, and after that gunshot wound where Bison spent days nursing him back to health he promised him that he wouldn’t scare him like that again, and that was a promise he intended to keep.
He had grown used to swallowing painkillers and antibiotics whenever something like that happened and went about his way till the symptoms subsided.
Except that he was no longer that person, that person and his current life had five years and endless promises between them, promises to do better to make sure he wouldn't hurt someone he loved again, or make them worry or fear.
That aside, he was not the same person in more than one way, living in jail would have taken its toll on him and he knew it better than anyone.
But with the need to work hard and pay back everything Style had done for him, not to free himself of the debt but to show Style that he meant it, had come with a huge bill of effort that he had failed to monitor and keep in check.
He wanted to show Style that he wasn't the only one willing to do it all for love, to give Style all the love he had given him all those years waiting.
He got lost between the need to know he was doing it all for Style, and actually checking in with Style to know what he needed and the cost was as obvious as the sun in midday.
It had started small, a scratch in the back of Fadel's throat that he had ignored for two days, a bit of heat he felt under his skin, his vision growing hazy whenever he moved in his usual speed.
He thought he had managed it all, had it all under control, that sleeping would cure the worst of it, and eventually it would fade like it had usually done.
The fever though made everything worse, way worse and the fact that he has been physically reaching his limits were not helping, because if he hadn't slept in that day, he would have remembered to swallow some painkillers before leaving, but in his haste to be out of the house before Style would notice he was sick, it had totally slipped his mind.
And as the day progressed, he started to grow dizzy, his head throbbing and his throat closing up on coughs more than he cared to admit.
He was sick, fully sick and falling apart, and he had no idea how to hide it from either Bison or Style.
And then to add fuel to the fire, things swam in his vision, growing dangerously dark around the edges, enough that he had to lean on something to keep himself standing, so he leaned forward only to hiss with his hand made contact with the upside of the grill.
One second he was staring at it, pain not fully registering in his mind, he didn't fully understand what went wrong till Bison had dragged him to the sink to put his hand under running water, he was still calm, still trying to speak to Fadel in a leveled tone, trying to ask what had happened, If Fadel was alright.
His frustration and the shouts didn't start till Fadel said that he was alright and no way in hell was he going back home.
He was surely surprised when Style walked in mid-fight, dragging him home despite his protests, nagging him about taking medication till he did.
He was angry, at himself more than Style, so when Style wrapped an arm around his waist, Fadel didn't have the heart to remove it, seeking small comfort from having him close despite the grumpiness he had been directing at him.
He scummed to tired sleep faster than he intended to, the heat and the comfort of having Style close robbing him out of the last of his energy as he fell into a deep black hole of sleep.
When Fadel managed to open his eyes again, everything span in his vision, even Style and the towel he was holding, he was shirtless and cold but he was burning from the inside enough that the cold was more than welcome.
“What…”
“Shush… your fever spiked while you are asleep, I am trying to cool you down a bit…”
Fadel swallowed the roughness in his throat, he felt like he was breathing fire instead of air.
“W..water…”
Style nodded, reaching out to the night stand and getting a glass of water, Fadel raised on his elbows, allowing Style to put the glass on his lips, it was drained dry before he knew it, barely doing anything to his inflamed airway, before he lowered himself again.
Style moved the towel on his skin, and Fadel tried to focus on him, his face, his movements, but his brain seemed to have other ideas as his eyes slipped close.
“Sleep… I will be here…”
He couldn't help but do just that… too tired to even try to protest…
—
Style wrung the towel dry for the millionth time…
He had known that Fadel was working himself to the ground, but with the amount of control that Fadel usually had, Style had hoped that he would stop before falling apart…
Style could only blame himself for not realizing it earlier… and only himself.
he was pulled out of bis reverie when Fadel's phone rang with Bison’s number, he answered without thinking, getting off the bed and walking out of the room, hoping the sound of it wouldn't wake Fadel.
“I take from the fact that you are answering his phone that he is out for the count?”
“He passed out with a fever… I am trying to cool him down…”
Bison cursed loudly before answering.
“Keep at it, I trust you know what to do with him once he is awake enough to start asking to come to the restaurant again… if he shows up, I will blame no one but you….”
Style knew it was an empty threat more than anything, Bison being worried beyond reason, and reluctant to just show up to ensure his brother wasn't going to end up in a hospital bed.
“Don’t worry, I am not letting him out of the house even if I have to lock us both in…”
Style hung up… going back to his partner’s side…
“I mean it… I will lock us both in if you try to go to work…”
—
Fadel tried to shade his eyes from the light before he realized that the sun meant that he should be getting up to go to work.
except that he felt heavy, way too heavy and tired… and everything about his body felt wrong, the kind of wrong that meant that getting out of bed was a bad idea let alone the house.
He tried to raise his right hand to shield his face and felt the bandages covering it. He stared at it for a second before the previous day trickled in.
He looked around the room and saw Style sleep-sitting next to the bed on the floor, holding a towel in one of his hands.
"Style…" He sounded rough, and speaking hurt altogether.
Style grumbled before opening his eyes and noticed that Fadel was awake and sitting in bed.
"How are you feeling? When did you wake up?"
"I am fine… Why are you sitting on the floor?"
Style got up, dropped the towel on the nightstand before sitting next to Fadel, touching his neck and his face.
"You sure are not fine, you are still feverish…"
"I feel fine… Aren't you going to the garage today? I am late for the restaurant…"
"You are not going anywhere… neither am I"
Fadel got off the bed, pushing Style aside, the spark of grumpiness he felt the previous day igniting again.
"I mean it, Fadel… You are not going to the restaurant with a fever, and I am not letting you…"
Fadel ignored him, walking out of the room and stumbling into the bathroom to wash his face before he noted the bandages covering his hand. He was growing dizzy again and doubted he would make it to the front door without his vision dancing.
The entire idea of leaving was starting to sound rediclous, if he had been aiming to prove to Style that he was alright and able, he just proved the exact opposite.
Fadel leaned on the sink with his good hand, trying to master strength he didn't have, He heard Style call his name a couple of times, knocking softly on the door, with each knock the calls grew more desperate, Fadel didn't answer, too busy trying not to fall to the floor, before the door opened and Style walked in, he stood near Fadel for a second, hovering without touching, and Fadel decided that he had had enough and leaned into him, Style hummed, turning the water on and wetted his hand and wiped Fadel's face.
"If you are not willing to listen to me… at least rest today… It's only a day, it wouldn't do any harm, I won't stop you if you want to go to work tomorrow… I know I am nagging, but I won't stop just because you are angry…"
Fadel looked at Style for a long moment. he hated to admit it, hated to allow Style to be the one bearing everything again, even if it was a minor inconvenience like falling sick.
"OK…" Fadel said curtly, he could see the visible relief on Style's face.
"OK, Let.. Let me help you back to bed…"
Fadel nodded, leaning on Style's shoulder for a second.
"Your skin is cold…"
"No, Love… You are the feverish one…"
Fadel let Style drag him back to bed, resting on his pillows, all fight draining out of him despite his insistence to go to work a mere minutes ago.
"Did you tell Bison I won't come to work?"
"I don't think he expected you to after everything that had happened yesterday, you are feverish and barely able to keep your eyes open as it is…"
Fadel hummed, he was cold, and hot, the more he tried to fight his futiuge the worse it got.
"Rest, Fadel… I am here…"
Style pulled him in his arms, and Fadel didn't find a reason not to seek his comfort…
He was asleep again before he knew it…
—
"That went better than I expected…"
Bison commented, and Style hummed.
"I am pretty sure it's not done yet… He will try again and again…"
Bison said something under his breath about Idiots and their big heads, before someone called his name, and he told Style he had to go.
Style hung up, staring at the pot boiling on the stove, before his eyes shifted to the stairs.
He might not be a cliniary master like his partner, but he sure knew his way around a kitchen, and moreover he knew his father's soup recipe like the back of his hand, and Fadel did need to eat something, he had preferred to let him sleep the worst of it off, but as the day progressed, he knew he had to get some food into Fadel if he planned to make him take any other medication.
He was about to turn off the stove when he heard soft steps down the stairs before Fadel appeared.
"Hey… What are you doing out of bed?"
Fadel crossed the length of the hallway, pulling Style to him and wrapping his arms around him, burying his head in Style's neck, Style could still feel the heat against his skin, the termmors were still there as well…
"Fadel?"
"Hmm?"
"Feeling worse?"
"Not better or worse, just tired…"
Style sighed, wrapping his arms around Fadel's back, he could feel the sweat soaking through the shirt he was wearing, He hoped it was a good scene that his fever would break soon.
"Want to take a shower first? Or eat first?"
Fadel shrugged.
"Then by all means, let's get some food into you before you take a shower…"
Fadel nodded against Style's skin, and Style took that as enough answer to pull away slightly and lead him to one of the chairs surrounding their kitchen island.
"It's just soup, my father's recipe…"
Fadel smiled slightly, and something inside Style eased further; they might not be all the way to admitting that Fadel was ill and out for the count, but the mere fact that he was letting Style tell him this was a good sign.
Style scooped a bit of the soup into a bowl before taking a seat in front of Fadel, stopping him when he reached out for the spoon…"
"Let me? No need for you to strain it or dirty the bandages…"
Fadel sighed, letting his bandaged dominant hand rest on the island before nodding curtly.
Style picked up the spoon and scooped some of the soup before putting it to Fadel's lips.
"Is it good?"
Fadel nodded, saying a small thank you under his breath that made Style smile.
Style went through the notion of feeding Fadel for a bit, Fadel's eyes were trained on his face, an expression of utter fondness on his face.
"I will never not owe you anything, will I ?"
Fadel said suddenly, and Style frowned.
"You don't owe me anything…"
"I owe you a lot… time, money… Love… everything…"
Style stared at him, there was a lot in Fadel's eyes… Love, adoration and also ghosts and doubts…
"I… you don't owe me a single thing… I waited because I wanted to wait, I waited because I loved you enough to wait… the restaurant, the money you think you owe me… it's… an investment I made into our future… and if you think you are paying me back… then think again… I have been putting it all back into our savings account for retirement…"
"Style…."
"I love you… I will keep reminding you with that till you get it into your thick skull…"
Something in Fadel's gaze was soft; he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Style's.
"I am not kissing you because I don't want you to get sick, but god damn it I want nothing more…"
Style raised a single eyebrow before he held Fadel's face in his hand and kissed him.
"I don't care…" Style whispered softly when he broke their kiss.
Fadel smiled, his eyes tired, and it was like a final wall had crumbled down.
"Now, would you stop fighting me on everything and let me take care of you?"
Fadel nodded… and Style felt relief he hadn't felt in days…
—
"You are too calm…" Fadel said as an afterthought as he leaned his back on Style's chest in a rare change of position.
In the aftermath of their talk, Style had dragged Fadel to their bathroom, helped him out of his sweat soaked clothes before filling up the tub and helping Fadel in it, for one because he didn't think he would be able to stand for long, and for another because he would rather not get his bandaged hand wet.
Not to mention that the bath might be exactly what Fadel needed for his fever to finally break.
"Won't you join me?" Fadel asked.
"Won't have it any other way, Love…"
Style sat behind Fadel, guided his bandaged hand out of the edge of the tub, before pulling him close to his chest.
Style sat quietly, carding wet fingers through Fadel's hair, hoping the lukewarm water would help break the lingering fever and not make everything way worse than it was.
"I said enough, didn't I?"
Fadel chuckled softly, turning his head slightly to meet Style's gaze.
"I doubt that could be the case… You ever running out of words to say…"
Style raised an eyebrow.
"As if you would have it any other way…"
Fadel smiled a bit, but it looked tired, dulled out by illness and fever.
"Sure… I wouldn't have it any other way indeed…"
Style kissed a spot of exposed skin on Fadel's shoulder, wrapping both his arms around Fadel's stomach.
If they both stayed till the water turned cold, it was only for them to know.
—
Style flinched slightly as he took the bandage off Fadel's hand.
"It's not as bad as it looks…" Fadel said soothingly, but Style begged to differ as he stared at the blustered red skin.
"Yeah… Right… Don't let Bison hear you say that, I should have taken you to the hospital."
"Style…"
"Is it that hard to admit if you are hurt or ill? We are safe, right? It's not like someone would bounce on us the second you are ill… I can think of worse things happening anyway…"
Fadel grew quiet for a second, and Style waited, knowing his partner was trying to come up with an answer that Style could relate to.
"Remember that time Bison said that the only other person he stitched up was me?"
Style hummed, not daring to look at Fadel, staring at the hand as he put burn cream on, flinching every time he touched the damaged skin.
"I had… messed up and gotten shot in the side… it wasn't too deep, but… but there was no one to help us… and Lily told him to take care of it, that she wouldn't be able to send any help… It went without saying that she blamed me for getting hurt in the first place."
"Fadel…"
"He took the bullet out, I held on, trying not to scare him, but with the blood loss and the adrenaline rush fading, I passed out soon after. I don't remember much of what happened next, but I woke up three days later and he was crying by my side…"
Style didn't want to think about it, didn't want to imagine Bison taking a bullet out of his brother's body and hoping he had done enough of a good job that he wouldn't die on him, of infection, of blood lose, or even some sort of an internal damage he might have caused or couldn't see…
And above all else, He didn't want to think of Fadel dying…
"He made me promise not to get hurt like that again, because he wouldn't bear to lose me as well…"
Style swallowed hard a couple of times, he was trying to keep his emotions in check, he remembered his entire ordeal with something similar, Fadel's fear despite his rage, and if the roles were reversed, he didn't think he would bear it.
But it was irreverent… Fadel had to learn to ask for help… he wasn't only there to help and offer his protection to the people he loved.
"That doesn't mean you don't get to admit you are ill… If you are hurt, tell us, I would rather nurse you back to health than watch as you waste away, and I am pretty sure he would say the same thing, the mere idea of not just leaning on the grill but fainting in the kitchen altogether…"
A shiver went down Style's back as he imagined what would have happened in a kitchen full of hazards like that.
Fadel seemed to pick it up, trying to lighten the mood slightly.
"He would have a couple of choice words… None of them would have been nice. I anger him when I do that, and then berate him when he follows suit."
Style hummed, wrapping Fadel's hand, before dropping a kiss in the middle of it.
"Don't try to tough it out… You are not doing any of us any kind of favors…"
Fadel smiled slightly.
"Understood…"
Style nodded before getting up and pushing Fadel to lie down.
"Now get some rest…"
Fadel caught Style's arm.
"Where are you going?"
"I am going to check on the garage, and come back, don't worry…"
Fadel nodded, lying down and watching as Style took his phone off the nightstand and walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open.
He called the garage, sending a quick message to Bison before coming back to find Fadel staring at the door, waiting for him.
If he ended up being in bed for the rest of the day, it was only for him to know.
—
Style opened his eyes when the light shinnied through their window. He tried to move, only to realize his partner was sleeping on his outstretched arm and just sighed.
It had been a nice night… He and Fadel didn't get out of bed, Fadel drifting in and out of sleep for the rest of the day, and Style didn't have the heart to leave him alone, giving him his med on time and just enjoying being the one guarding Fadel for a change.
He had fallen asleep later… lulled to sleep by the comfort of Fadel's fever finally breaking close to dawn.
He was thinking of ways to keep his partner in the house for another day, whether he would actually need to lock the door this time or not.
"Morning…"
Fadel opened his eyes, lifting his head and releasing Style's arm.
"Morning, how are you feeling?"
"Tired…"
Style hummed, fingers reaching out to tuck Fadel's hair off his head, checking if there was any lingering fever and sighing in relief when he found none.
"Not going to the garage today as well?"
"No…"
Fadel hummed, tucking himself against Style's side.
"Good…"
"Good?"
Fadel nodded.
"Because I am not going anywhere and would rather you don't as well…"
Style chuckled before wrapping his arms tightly around Fadel, dropping a kiss on his hair.
—
"I don't believe you, you must have sedated him or something…"
Style smiled without meaning to, looking back at his partner as he lay down on the couch, reading peacefully.
"Nope, he said he was tired…"
"MY BROTHER?!"
Style chuckled.
"Damn, Style! I knew you had it, but I didn't know you were that good…"
"Don't worry about him… He is going to be OK…"
"Oh, I will worry alright, but I know you will take good care of him…"
Style hung up, walking back to where Fadel was resting, Fadel didn't drop his book as he made space for Style in his arms.
"Done reporting back to Bison?"
Style went silent for a second.
"How did you know?"
"He is not calling me, and if he is not calling me then he is calling you, he wouldn't just sit and wait doing nothing, unless someone was telling him how I was doing, and since he is not here, then I know for sure he knows I am alright…"
"Smart ass…"
Fadel chuckled, leaning in and dropping a kiss on Style's hair.
"I have my moments, and I know you and him like the back of my hand…"
Style smiled but didn't answer before clearing his throat.
"I was thinking about something…"
"Sure… You are always thinking about something…"
"Maybe we can go on a vacation?"
"Vacation?"
Style hummed, sitting up and pulling Fadel's book out of his hand.
"Maybe we can use those funds to travel for a bit, Bison went to see the north lights with Kant… Is there a place you ever wanted to see?"
Fadel thought for a second…
"I don't care really… as long as you are with me…"
Style smiled, leaning in and kissing him, straddling his waist, and dropping the book on the ground.
"I was reading that you know…"
"Later… We have all day…"
Fadel hummed, his fingers sneaking under Style's shirt…
Soon enough, clothes were scattered around, and the book lay forgotten on the floor.
—
"Looking good, Bro."
Bison said in a way of greeting as he walked into the restaurant and saw his brother behind the register.
Fadel rolled his eyes but said nothing, the beginning of an amused smile dancing on his lips.
"Seemed like my brother-in-law did a good job taking care of you, nursing you back to health…"
"Some brothers-in-law are better than others, you know…"
Bison shook his head and laughed, the revelry between Fadel and Kant might tone down from time to time but it would never fully go away.
"How did he keep you in bed, though? Any tricks you wanna share with the class?"
"Bison… Get to work…"
"Fine… Fine… I will call him later and ask, wouldn't hurt to know some tricks for future purposes…"
Fadel flipped Bison off as he walked into the locker room laughing…
—
Style was leaning on one of the cars when an arm went around his waist before he was hauled into a firm chest.
He startled so hard that he was ready to scream and kick before Fadel's voice registered in his ears.
"Easy… It's me…"
Style leaned back, trying to catch his breath, before he turned in Fadel's arms to face him.
"You scared me!!"
Fadel hummed, leaning in and kissing Style’s cheeks.
"Sorry, didn't mean to…"
Style stared at him for a second before looking at the clock.
"You're early… Are you OK? Are you feeling sick again?"
Fadel shook his head.
"No… Just thought I would come back in time to have dinner with you…"
"Dinner with me?"
Fadel hummed.
"If you are too busy, I can wait for you…"
"No, No… Never too busy for you…"
Fadel smiled slightly at Style’s eagerness.
Within minutes, Style was sitting in the passenger seat of Fadel's car.
"I was thinking about what you said…"
"Which thing? I say a shit load of things all the time"
Fadel Chuckled
"The vacation …"
"Oh… What about it?"
"Wanna go to Paris ??"
Style's eyes widened comically before he leaned over and kissed Fadel on the cheek.
"I go wherever you go, Love…"
Fadel smiled wistfully… Style followed him inside the jail, He would sure as hell follow him to the moon.
"I am sorry…"
Style turned to him, his face falling slightly.
"What for ?"
"being a pain in the ass those last couple of days… I will… listen to you more often …"
"I will hold you to that next time you work yourself to the ground…"
Fadel hummed, already planning more than just the trip to Paris…