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Stede, nose turned up, rubber gloves on, holds the trash bag full of soiled linens as far from his body as possible as he carries them to the washing machine.
Ed leads Louis, fresh from the shower, into the bedroom and tucks him into his sheetless bed, which has been improvisationally outfitted with a sleeping bag. The lingering hint of campfire smoke actually works pretty well to mask the room’s previous odor, he notices.
“How are you feeling now, buddy?” Ed asks.
“Kind of okay, maybe,” Louis says, still looking pale. “Maybe,” he adds ominously.
“Better than the alternative. Use this if you need it, okay?” Ed sets the bag-lined trash bin in what he hopes is easy grabbing distance. “Your stuffies have to take a big bath in the washing machine, but luckily Arthur here—” Ed holds up a miraculously clean and dry stuffed horse— “was under the bed and escaped the, uh, carnage.” Louis accepts the offering and clutches Arthur to his chest.
“Come to our room if you need us,” Ed says, giving Louis a little hug and a consoling pat on the back.
“Is Dad going to come hug me too?”
“Um.” Ed thinks of the rubber gloves and Stede’s pained expression. “Your dad’s cleaning up still. He’ll check on you tomorrow morning, okay?”
Louis nods solemnly and curls himself around Arthur.
“Sleep well, kiddo,” Ed whispers on his way out the door.
Ed is dozing by the time Stede makes it back to bed, fresh and lavender-scented from his own shower. “Good teamwork tonight,” he mumbles as Stede slips into the sheets.
“Divide and conquer,” Stede agrees. “Oh, and we’re going to need to pick up more Clorox wipes and Lysol spray tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.” Ed scoots into big spoon position, slotting his knees behind Stede’s, nuzzling his nose into the back of Stede’s neck. “Mmmm, you’re warm and you smell nice.”
“Darling.” Stede’s voice has a little edge to it. “Do you mind just—not?”
“Oh, yeah.” Ed half-rolls away so he’s on his back. “Wasn’t trying to, like, start anything. What is it, 2 a.m.? I just thought a little cuddle before we sleep—”
“No, I know. It’s just the—germs. And the, ah—” Even with a gap between them, Ed feels Stede’s shudder. “I could just use a little space around me. Tonight.”
“Yup. Sure thing.” Ed rolls back to his side of the bed. It’s cold. He curls himself up and purses his lips and makes a kissy sound into the air instead of that one spot behind Stede’s ear. “Love you.”
“I love you,” Stede says, and gives two air kisses back.
***
Two nights later, Stede is awake when Ed shuffles back to bed after a concerning amount of time in the bathroom.
“It finally got me,” Ed says in a raspy voice, sitting on the edge of the bed to catch his breath before flopping back onto the mattress with a small moan and curling up into the fetal position.
Stede doesn’t say anything about the rubber gloves or the Clorox wipes that Ed had apparently viewed as just a suggestion. He just hums out a sympathetic, “Oh, sweetheart.”
“Guess this is how I die,” Ed says.
“Oh, I don’t think so. You saw how Louis bounced back this morning. He must have eaten half that canister of cheese puffs—”
“Please don’t mention the cheese puffs.”
Ed looks small and fragile, all alone on his side of the bed, as far from Stede as he can be. Stede takes a slow breath and scoots across the mattress until he’s within reaching distance. He places his palm against Ed’s back, feeling the heat of his body radiating through his sweat-damp t-shirt. Ed reflexively flinches away, and Stede feels a little pang in his chest.
“You don’t have to,” Ed whispers. “‘m all gross.”
“I know,” Stede says. “I want to. If it feels good.” He rests his hand softly against Ed’s back again, this time stroking in a gentle circular pattern and feeling Ed’s hunched shoulders relax slightly.
“Yeah,” Ed sniffles. “It really does. Still gonna die though.”
Stede inches a bit closer and pulls back a few strands of hair that had escaped from Ed’s hastily-arranged bun and stuck to his cheek, tucking them behind his ear. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Maybe I’ll decide in the morning,” Ed says, his voice going soft and fuzzy as Stede massages the tension out of his back. Ed’s breathing slows and deepens, and Stede finds that he doesn’t want to break the connection that’s keeping Ed comfortable and safe, so he simply doesn’t, tracing the same slow circles until he, too, drifts off to sleep.