Sex or Indian? (Zig and Joe Side Story 2)

Stumbling across the hall, Ziggy groaned and gripped at the left side of his abdomen. Had the bathroom always been this far away?

::Ah, osti.::

Doubling over at the sharp pain, he collapsed to his hands and knees, then curled himself into a ball on the smooth wood. It was cool and felt good against his bare skin.

::What side is the appendix on? Is it the left?::

Another pang hit him and he grunted, shifting to try and find a more comfortable position. It was impossible. Everything hurt and the movement only hurt more.

"Zig?"

A wide hand was on his shoulder and he turned his head just enough to look up past his shoulder. Joe's sleepy face stared down at him. Wide brown eyes, a messy stray curl stuck in his eyelashes, barely parted, downturned lips – it was a terrible look that didn't belong. Still, it was nice to see him so flustered. Even after this many years, it was nice to know he could find new sides to his calm partner.

"Ah, merde..." Ziggy grumbled through the stabbing in his side. "Sorry, did I wake you?" Another twinge. "I didn't even eat Indian, hein? I ate your stupid, healthy Greek food, hein?"

"Are you serious right now?" The hand on his shoulder moved to his forehead, now dotted with sweat. "Fuck, you're burning up."

Joe shot up and took two long strides into the bathroom, then was back in only moments, lifting Ziggy until he rested against him.

"Take these." He put two pills into Ziggy's mouth and helped him drink water from a small cup. "Tylenol." Ziggy swallowed and nodded, pressing himself into Joe's bare chest. He was hot and Joe wasn't as cold as the floor, but the smell was comforting. "Can you walk?"

"Qui sait," Ziggy choked out as another painful pang hit him.

Before he could try pushing himself from the floor, Joe's arms were under him, sliding under his knees and supporting his back, then lifting him as he stood.

"Minute, là!" he cried. "You're going to break your back, hein?"

The glare he received in return was another new look. He usually won arguments and got his way because Joe let him. Even when he lost, there was a compromise or he got something else he wanted instead. This look was stern and unwavering. Joe was worried and upset, and he wasn't going to play with Ziggy now.

Swallowing any other complaints, Ziggy curled himself against Joe and pressed a hand to his side. He liked to be babied when he didn't need it. It was fun to tease and have that attention. But he wasn't someone who asked for help or wanted to actually be taken care of.

"We're going to the ER," Joe said, carrying him into the bedroom and placing him lightly on the bed. He quickly dressed himself, then gently pulled a sweater over Ziggy's head and slipped a pair of sweatpants up his legs to his waist.

"Hein? What kind of terrible fashion is this?" He barely squeezed out the end of the sentence, rolling and shrinking into himself in pain. "Ah, osti de tabarnak de sacrement de câlice de crisse...""

Joe was already calling a cab, listening to him spit out sacres in the background. Hanging up, he sighed and turned to Ziggy, huddled on the mattress. Another sigh and he crawled up to join him, his body forming a shell over Ziggy's back, his arms and legs wrapping protectively around him.

Ben là, this isn't so bad, I guess. Having someone take care of you.

After a light kiss to the back of Ziggy's now sweaty neck, Joe slid off the bed and brought him back into his arms.

"Ready?" Ziggy gave him a quick nod and he kissed his forehead. "Okay."

--------------------

"Hein? Diverticulitis?"

After a terrible cab ride to the hospital, a chaotic emergency room where he was rushed to get a CT scan to check for appendicitis, then a lengthy enough wait to tell them it either wasn't appendicitis or wasn't serious enough to kill him any time soon, that was the diagnosis.

"Yes. It's quite common for people at your age. Most develop diverticula along the digestive tract, especially as the colon develops weak spots over time. Sometimes these can tear, which causes inflammation and potentially infection."

::Merveilleux... Someone else reminding me I'm old.::

"Thankfully, it isn't too serious. Nothing ruptured and no abscesses or other complications. Your body just seems to have had a poor reaction. We will keep you, continue your pain medication, and get you on an IV antibiotic. It's strong, so we'll also monitor you to be sure you don't have any side effects."

There was nothing to ask, so the nurse practitioner left for the next emergency and the nurse set up the second IV. Ziggy's gaze fell on Joe, who was watching him with a light, relieved smile while his fingers twitched on his lap.

"Désolé mon cher," Ziggy said with a half smile. "You didn't even get to grab your knitting bag."

Joe's fingers curled, stopping the motions, but he didn't say anything. When the nurse finished and left the room, shutting the door behind her, he let out a long breath.

"Zig..."

Ziggy trapped the air in his lungs as Joe dragged his chair close to the bed. That was his serious 'I know everything going on in that crazy mind' voice.

"We're both old. We'll only get older. I don't care about that. It's not like we were young when we met. And you've spent your life destroying your body, so who knows when that will come back to bite you." Ziggy huffed, wondering if he should take that as an insult. Joe took his hand and gave him a calm, sweet smile. "I know this is still new for you. I know it's difficult and you don't completely trust me. Maybe you never will. But that's okay. Whatever happens, I'm not going anywhere."

It hurt, that Joe saw all of that and could still say it with a smile, but it just wasn't in Ziggy's nature to show it. He would continue to flirt and play and grin brightly on the outside while in the back of his mind, he questioned everything. When Joe would finally get sick of him, why he was here to begin with, what he got out of this relationship besides sex. What could he do not to lose him? How could he hide those undesirable parts of himself and make him want to stay?

"And the sex is good, but that's not the reason I'm here." Ziggy frowned at Joe's proud smirk. "I know that's what you're thinking."

Letting his head fall back, Ziggy closed his eyes but couldn't keep a grin from his lips. "Ayoye! I hate that about you, tsé? Always reading my mind and then saying it out loud. Just keep it to yourself, hein? Just let me win, hein?"

"Hiding isn't winning."

Ziggy snorted a laugh at his blunt honesty. "Ah, sacrement... I don't know what to do with you."

After giving his hand a quick kiss, Joe pushed the chair back against the wall and crossed his legs.

"Get some sleep," he said, taking this round.

The two had plenty of arguments, but they never fought anymore. Now Joe always let Ziggy win, or at least feel like he won, but in these few honest, exposed moments, Ziggy always lost.

Rolling to his side, feeling the drowsiness from the pain meds kicking in, Ziggy thought it wasn't such a terrible thing - having someone who knew him well enough to call him on his bullshit, but who loved him enough to stay anyway. He could probably stand to lose to that every once in a while.