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Wifies never got sick. He was the kind of person who brushed off sleep, skipped breakfast, and somehow still had enough energy to solve three redstone puzzles and carry a full conversation about Minecraft lore in one breath.
But today?
Today, Wifies was very much sick.
He was curled up in bed, hoodie tugged over his nose, face flushed with heat. His usually bright eyes were glassy, and his voice—when he tried to speak—came out like a creaky door hinge.
“I’m fine,” he croaked, absolutely not fine.
Parrot, standing in the doorway with a worried frown and a bowl of soup, raised an eyebrow. “Sure. And I’m a crafting table.”
Wifies tried to laugh but ended up coughing into his sleeve. Parrot was already beside him by then, placing the bowl on the bedside table and pressing a gentle hand to Wifies’ forehead.
“You’re burning up,” he murmured.
“Can’t be. I’m too cool to have a fever.”
Parrot gave him a look. “You’re literally steaming. Sit up.”
Wifies groaned but did as told, though it was more of a dramatic flop against Parrot’s shoulder. “You’re so bossy when I’m dying,” he mumbled.
“You’re not dying,” Parrot said softly, wrapping an arm around him to hold him up. “But you are stupid for walking back in the rain without a jacket yesterday.”
“I had a jacket—”
“It was unzipped and hanging off one shoulder. That doesn’t count.”
Wifies made a sound of protest, but it faded when Parrot pressed the warm bowl into his hands and tucked a blanket around his shoulders. He didn’t protest when Parrot gently brushed his hair back, fingers lingering in a way that made Wifies feel warm for a reason that wasn’t the fever.
“…thanks,” he muttered.
Parrot smiled, small and fond. “Just eat. Then you’re sleeping.”
---
Later, when the soup was gone and Wifies was half-asleep, Parrot stayed. He sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone, pretending not to notice how Wifies kept scooting closer under the covers.
Eventually, Wifies whispered, voice hoarse, “Can you… stay?”
Parrot blinked, then nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”
He slid under the covers without hesitation, letting Wifies curl up against him like a tired cat. Wifies tucked his head under Parrot’s chin, and Parrot gently stroked his back.
“You’re really warm,” Parrot mumbled.
Wifies chuckled weakly. “Maybe you’re the one with a fever.”
“…Don’t joke like that. I’d catch it for you, though.”
Wifies looked up, eyes soft and vulnerable. “Why?”
Parrot looked back at him, just as soft. “Because I like you. A lot.”
Wifies closed his eyes, let out a tiny breath. “Then you’re not allowed to leave.”
“I won’t,” Parrot promised, pulling him even closer.
They fell asleep tangled together, the fever slowly fading, but the warmth between them stubbornly staying.
---
Just a few minutes later, Wifies woke up.
Wifies shifted slightly, burying his nose deeper into the blanket. His fever had dulled a bit, but his body still felt like it was underwater. Everything ached, especially his head, and he couldn’t seem to stop shivering.
He didn’t expect the bed to dip beside him.
“You awake?” Parrot’s voice was low, gentle, almost hesitant.
Wifies cracked open one eye. “Kinda.”
Parrot sighed, then gently brushed Wifies’ hair back. His hand lingered there, fingers carding through Wifies’ hair like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re still shaking.”
“I’m fine, dude,” Wifies murmured. His voice cracked a little.
“No, you’re not,” Parrot said, frowning. “You look like someone dropped you in powdered snow.”
Without another word, Parrot slid under the covers beside him. He scooted close—close enough that Wifies could feel the heat radiating off him, even through the thick blankets.
“What are you—”
“You’re freezing,” Parrot cut in, wrapping an arm gently around him. “Let me help.”
Wifies went still. His brain, already foggy from fever, short-circuited as Parrot carefully pulled him closer, settling him against his chest. His arm draped protectively over Wifies' waist, holding him steady. Parrot’s other hand found its way to Wifies' back, rubbing slow, calming circles there.
“You’re so warm,” Wifies whispered before he could stop himself.
“Yeah, that’s kind of the point,” Parrot chuckled softly into his hair.
The world blurred around the edges as the warmth seeped into Wifies’ skin. He didn’t think he’d ever felt this safe. He blinked, trying to stay awake, but his eyes fluttered shut when Parrot pulled the blanket tighter around them.
“If you need anything,” Parrot murmured, “I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”
Wifies mumbled something unintelligible, curling even closer, nuzzling into Parrot’s chest like he was trying to mold into him. Parrot chuckled again and rested his chin lightly on top of Wifies’ head.
And then: “Hey, Parrot?” Wifies’ voice was quiet, barely a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“…Thanks for taking care of me.”
Parrot smiled. “Always.”
They fell asleep like that. Tangled together, warm, safe. Wifies dreamed of pixel suns and enchanted armor and Parrot’s arms around him—soft and solid and perfect.