thelastpilot:

universeenthusiast:

Care

(adrino drabble for anon!!!)

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Adrien wakes up because he can barely breathe.

He’s got half a dozen blankets on, and three empty tissue boxes around the end of the bed. He reaches for the not-empty one on the bedside table.

After he blows his nose five or six times, his sense of smell returns.

He can smell soup.

“Oh, you’re already awake.” Nino smiles quietly as he appears in the doorway. “Sit up, man.”

Adrien shuffles up and realises that his boyfriend is currently holding a bowl full of spiced chicken soup.

“Is that for me?” Adrien asks.

“No, I came to your apartment while you had the flu just to eat my soup in front of you.” Nino sasses. “No shit it’s for you.”

Adrien would blush if his face wasn’t already red from the borderline fever. He slurps the soup.

“Who’s recipe?”

“Funny you ask,” Nino chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I got it from Alya’s mom, who got it from Alya, who got it from Marinette, who got it from her mom, who got it from my mom when we were younger. So, I guess you could say it’s an Extended Family Recipe.”

Adrien smiles as he takes another spoonful. The warmth spreads from his tummy to his chest, but there’s the tiniest ache in it. His mother used to make chicken soup when he was sick, back when he was small, many, many years ago.

They say there’s no-one that can care for you when you’re sick like a mother can.

Eating the soup feels like a melancholy hug.

“The plot thickens, though,” Nino crosses his arms. “I asked mom for hers again, and it’s like a whole different recipe. Everyone who got it changed it a little.”

“Chinese Whispers Soup.” Adrien mumbles after another slurp.

Nino turns to look at him with the biggest incredulous smile, eyes as warm as the soup he made him, and Adrien is reminded again why he loves Nino.

“That’s what we’re calling it forever now,” Nino says. “Welcome to the family.”

“Make it official,” says Adrien between a sip and a sniffle. “Marry me.”

“Dude,” Nino narrows his eyes. “Are you… are you for real?”

“Please marry me.” Adrien manages to repeat the request before he yawns.

Soups that feel like hugs are apparently the real world equivalent of sleeping potions.

Nino smiles and mutters something in his native language and shakes his head.

“Ask me again after you’ve taken a nap, babe.” Nino kisses his forehead and tugs away the empty soup bowl.

“I loooooooooooove you,” Adrien drawls as he lies down again.

“I love you, too.” Nino leaves the door open just a crack, like Adrien’s mom used to.

Adrien smiles.

There’s no-one that can care for him like Nino does.