Chapter 1: Cartoons and OJ
It always amazed Nasir how grown men could turn into big fucking babies the minute they got sick. Gone was the self-sufficiency, replaced by the moans of the dying. The ability to do anything disappeared, leaving an overgrown man-child slumped down on the couch, sniffling and asking for his mommy. It was cute at first, for maybe the first hour. After the second day, Nasir was ready to cut a bitch if Agron didn't knock that shit off.
Dying of the common cold or not, Agron was still crafty. How he could find the energy to scheme when he couldn't even get his own orange juice from the fridge, Nasir had no idea. Yet there it was, when he got home from school: a second lump under the covers with Agron. A tiny one which fit up against his chest when Nasir knew for a fact that the couch was way too narrow for any kind of comfortable snuggling.
Nasir supposed that Duro and Diona were only too happy to leave Davy with Agron, since he was the reason their son was sick. The boy's shaggy, dark hair peeked up from under the covers and there was a horrible cough, one a little worrisome coming from such a small body. Nasir just shook his head, leaning down briefly to ruffle that messy hair, and went into the kitchen to get a small glass of juice. Leave it to Agron to use a cute little kid to keep from being kicked out of his own house.
“So, when did your mini-me show up?” Nasir asked, his voice slightly muffled as he leaned into the fridge, searching for the kind of apple juice David liked best.
Knowing that there was even such a thing might have felt a little strange last year, when Nasir was still Davy’s teacher, but it was awkwardness they’d quickly gotten over. Now David was just his boyfriend’s nephew, and watching Agron be completely wrapped around the kid’s finger was so entertaining that Nasir looked forward to his visits.
“About an hour ago,” Agron replied. His voice still sounded like shit, but at least it wasn’t as bad as it had been that morning, when he’d begged Nasir to write his obituary and somehow include how incredibly satisfied he’d left his partner over the course of their relationship.
“And did you invite him over to score brownie points with your sister-in-law, or was it to make sure I didn’t post embarrassing photos of you all snotty and gross on Facebook?” It would have been a fitting retaliation for all the bullshit of the last few days. Nasir’s not-inconsiderable patience had nearly been exhausted.
“This is why we’re perfect,” Agron said with a grin as Nasir returned with the glass of juice. “You know me so well.”
He helped David to sit up so his head was no longer mostly under the blanket. Sleepy eyes blinked up at Nasir, taking a moment before he focused enough to realize the juice was for him.
“Thank you,” he said politely, something Nasir knew Diona had drilled into him. His voice was scratchy and the kid looked miserable. Poor thing.
After a few small sips, David handed the glass back and slumped against Agron, clearly exhausted.
“Why don’t we put on some cartoons?” Agron asked. David would be out in five minutes flat once he’d gotten comfortable again.
Nasir reached for the remote and turned on the television. Cartoons it was.
Chapter 2: Green-Eyed Monster
Agron tries hard to not actually be a jealous asshole.
Agron makes a point of not being a jealous asshole. He's been on the receiving end of those tantrums before, and they weren't fun for anyone involved. Still, if he has to see that prick touch Nasir one more time, Agron was going to rip the guy's hand off and use it to level out the wobbly table in their back yard.
Nasir, for his part, is just oblivious. To him they're just planning an epic surprise party for a mutual friend. The touches to his shoulder and back don't mean anything other than Tom needing to make sure he didn't fall off the couch as he leaned forward to point at something on the, frankly, terrifyingly long list of Things That Must Be Purchased. What ever happened to getting a keg, some munchies from the corner store, and an iPod on shuffle? Although, maybe that was why Agron wasn't allowed to plan anymore parties when Nasir had to attend them.
So Agron just sat there on the loveseat, taking up as much room as possible in what he hoped was a fine showing of 'I'm bigger than you, asshole, so keep your hands off my man.' He knew he was glaring, but there was nothing he could do about that. It took all his self-control to avoid jumping to his feet and flapping his arms while pointing emphatically at the door.
"So we'll get the catering done from Rizzoli's on Bank. Jessica's dad owns it and I'm sure she can use her discount to bring out total down. And that looks like everything."
"You're so good at planning stuff," Tom said with a smile.
Agron threw up in his mouth a little.
"Maybe I missed my calling as a party planner," Nasir said wryly as they both got to their feet. His attention was suddenly drawn to the hand resting on his back. There was absolutely no reason for it to be there, and Nasir's gaze went from Tom's arm, to his face, to Agron fuming quietly from his set.
"Thanks for coming by," Nasir said, stepping forward in a way that made it obvious that he was putting distance between them. "Agron and I have a date. We really need to get ready or we'll lose our reservation."
Agron had never been anywhere that required reservations in his life. It wasn't really his style. Tom, not being a backbirth, seemed to clue into this, too. Or maybe he was tipped off by the fact that it was already seven PM, on a tuesday, and both Nasir and Agron worked in the morning.
"Uh, yeah," Tom said, an embarrassed expression on his face. "I'll catch you later."
"Much later," Agron suggested. Only Nasir's sharp look kept him from saying anything else. It didn't matter - Tom was moving toward the door, Nasir was watching him go, and Agron would likely get good boyfriend brownie points.