There was no way Mikael was going to School today.
Absolutely no way. While Raphael had grudgingly allowed him to teach the two previous days with a head cold, he knew from experience that a racking cough like the one Mikael had would only lead to an infected class, and then the class would infect all the rest of the students, and the whole School would shut down.
So. It was his duty as Professor to drug Mikael up, stay home, and play nursemaid.
"Raph..sa.." Mikael murmured somewhere underneath the covers. "Time…be up?"
Raphael gently lifted a corner of the blanket to find Mikael looking miserable, his eyes fever-bright. "Not for you, it isn't. Go back to sleep. I'll make you some tea and bring you some medicine."
Mikael squeaked something in protest, but Raphael just gently tucked him back in. "No. You're staying home. I'll get someone to cover our classes."
"Our?" Mikael's question caught him as he was leaving the room.
"Well, who ELSE do you expect to kiss it and make it better, hmmm?" Raphael drawled and winked. Mikael just sneezed and the bedcovers reclaimed him, aqua hair disappearing from view.
Well. The poor darling. Angels were a healthy bunch on the whole, but not immune to the occasional cold or fever. So Raphael walked briskly to his workroom, where he had several tisanes already made up, since he had just known that Mikael wouldn't rest properly and would, in fact, push himself harder in his already weakened state. Raphael frowned as he carried the tisane to the kitchen and started puttering around with the tea things. Mikael had this positive streak of…well, Gabriel-ishness that was just maddening.
He tapped a finger against the kettle, mentally urging it to boil faster, dammit. He wanted Mikael to drink something before he fell asleep again. The steam from the tea ought to help with a bit of the congestion, and the warmth would soothe his sore throat. The tisane would knock him flat out and provide the best remedy of all: uninterrupted sleep. Mikael was not leaving bed today, and not in a good way.
Raphael wished that they had been ditching school for a leisurely day in bed. But no such luck, and now he had to convince someone that yes, it was an emergency, and yes, Mikael really was ill, and no, he wasn't lying.
He flipped open his cell phone – the cutest little compact digital device that ever existed – and speed-dialed Suriel. He waited patiently for a moment and the call was answered.
"What the fuck is it now?"
Raphael blinked into the phone. He'd been just sure that he'd pushed the right button!
"Az?" he asked carefully. "Sorry, I meant to call Suriel."
"He's in the shower. What do you want?" Azrael repeated, his voice rougher than usual – he must have just woken up.
Raphael knew this was not a good time to press his case, but he didn't really have a choice. "Well, Mikael's just sick to the gills, so I'm staying home today to take care of him. I'm trying to find someone to take over our classes."
His heart sank as Azrael snorted in disbelief. "Yeah, right. Listen, honeymoon on your own time, Raphael."
"I'm not!" Raphael protested, irritated that his reputation was coming back to bite him in the ass. "He's really sick and I'm not letting him out of the house today."
Azrael's response was cut off by Suriel's quiet greeting. "Good morning, Raphael. Mikael's sick today?"
Raphael breathed a sigh of relief. He had known that he could count on Suriel. "Just horrible, Suri. Poor thing has been coughing up a lung every minute he's awake, and he's terribly congested. Can you take his class today?"
"Don't fucking listen – " Raphael overhead Azrael butting in, but Suriel interrupted him.
"Of course I will," Suriel said in that deadly sweet voice that suggested that if Azrael argued just one more time, he'd get belted in the gut. "You take good care of him, Raphael."
"I will, Suri. Thanks a lot," Raphael said gratefully. He clicked the off button. One problem solved. Now he just had to find someone to take his class. Which might not be so easy. Cassiel was gone. Azrael would tell him to go fuck himself if he even tried to ask. Ardouisur was on assignment. Who did that leave?
Oh dear. Uriel.
Nothing for it. Raphael shrugged and dialed Uriel's phone. Uriel picked up in sort of a breathless laugh. "Yes?"
Raphael heard a few suspicious noises in the background. Something like "please" and "now" and "faster!" in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Koe's. Oh dear. He'd better make this short.
"Listen, Uriel, Mikael's sick today and I need to stay home to take care of him. Can you cover my class?"
Uriel moaned a little into the phone. "Sure…what are you covering in class now?"
Koe was sounding orgasmic in the background. "Um. Nothing in particular. I'm sure you can handle it." Raphael could almost hear Uriel's lewd grin at the comment and hurried on, "Well, thanks, owe you one, bye!"
He clicked off the phone and stared it for a few moments, aware that his cheeks were faintly red. Mikael must be rubbing off on him. Speaking of which, the kettle was whistling. He carefully made tea and fussed a little with the placement of things on the polished cherry wood tray before carrying it into the bedroom.
Next mission. To unearth Mikael from under the pile of blankets and get him to drink the tea and medicine. He knelt on Mikael's side of the futon and set down the tray, the china clinking slightly in the process. He peeled back the covers to reveal Mikael, curled up, sweat matting his bangs to his forehead. The poor darling. "Mikael," he called quietly. "Mikael, I need you to sit up for a few minutes, okay?"
Mikael rolled over onto his back and blinked blearily at Raphael. "Nnnuh?"
Raphael slipped a supporting arm underneath Mikael's back. "Come on, sweetheart. We're going to sit up for a few minutes, drink our tea and medicine, and then go back to sleep, okay?"
Mikael nodded, and Raphael helped him up, supporting him gently. "Medicine first," he said, bringing a spoon to Mikael's lips. The aqua-haired angel swallowed obediently and then made a face at the taste. "Sorry, sorry," Raphael soothed. "Drink your tea."
Mikael managed about half the cup before his eyes drifted shut again. Raphael rescued the cup lest it tumble onto the futon from Mikael's lax grip. Then he gently eased Mikael back down onto the futon, covering him with just a sheet and one blanket. "I know you think you're cold, but you also have a devil of a fever right now that needs to come down. So sleep well, and the medicine should do the trick." He kissed Mikael's forehead once before slipping out of the room.
Now what?
Raphael looked around the apartment. He had to do something quiet so as to avoid waking Mikael up. He looked in the direction of the kitchen and dirty dishes, sighed, and rolled up his sleeves. He might as well clean up a bit.
Up to his elbows in soapy water, he scrubbed at the dishes, rinsed them, and stacked them neatly in the drying rack, just the way Mikael usually did. In fact, the simple chore left him feeling sort of odd, since this was something they usually did together in the evening. Mikael washed, Raphael dried, and they talked about inconsequential things. Mostly, Raphael thought, it was just nice to do things together. They did bump into each other at School occasionally, and they always had lunch together, but there were times when Raphael was alone in his office doing paperwork, and he wished just for Mikael's company. They didn't have to talk, or even be doing anything together. Just to be side by side was enough for him.
Raphael wandered into the living room next, almost unconsciously picking up his guitar before remembering that he was trying to be quiet. Mikael's silver guitar was in the stand beside it. Mikael played it less often than Raphael played his, but every once in awhile, Raphael would walk in on Mikael softly playing old songs on the acoustic guitar. It was, after all, the guitar that Mikael had learned on, but it always made Raphael shine with pleasure to see his former student take such obvious joy in something of his.
So. No guitar playing. Bother. That left…
Raphael scratched his head. What did that leave? He could experiment in his workroom, but as he had a feeling he'd be spending a little too much time in there as it was, he didn't think that was a good idea. He sighed and sat down on the sofa with his laptop, and decided to get to work on some reports that Gabriel had growled at him to finish. Being the Professor was not all fun and games, sadly.
Speaking of fun and games, he wondered for a moment what Uriel was doing to his class.
"Morning, all," he greeted. "Professor's out today 'cause his little pumpkin has a cold, so I'm the substitute. I'm Uriel, the Angel of Wrath. Nice to meet you."
The class blinked at him. Maybe it was the floppy beret he was wearing. Koe had tried to tell him that the beret wasn't very intimidating and that if he were really going to frighten his students, he should go after a more Azrael-esque ensemble. Oh well.
He rubbed his hands together. "So! Many of you must be wondering how to pick up your fellow classmates, or maybe that cute first year you've seen in the halls – naughty- naughty! So I'll impart some of my best pick up lines, and then we're going to go around the room and brainstorm. I'll start! So, say you see that cool, unapproachable senior and you're just dying to see what they'd be like in bed. No pretty words are going to work here, ladies and gentlemen. You might as well just cut to the chase and look them straight in the eye – here, you, yes you, young man, stand up and demonstrate, and you, the blue-haired boy in the back – come up here to the front of the room. Now, stand closer – yes, that's right – and give him a sultry look…I said sultry, not ill. So you give him a sultry look and say, "Hey, nice halo. Wanna fuck?"
Mikael drifted back to wakefulness. His eyelids felt heavy but he opened them anyway. The room was flooded with early afternoon sunlight, and Raphael was sitting beside him in bed, reading a book.
Raphael looked over at him and smiled. It was such a breathtaking little smile; it was small and quiet and Raphael only ever smiled that way at him. It made Mikael feel warm and comfortable and loved, and he smiled back shyly.
"Hungry?" Raphael asked, stroking and kneading the outside of his wing, in a way that made Mikael sigh reflexively and spread his wing out a little more.
"Thirsty," Mikael said after a moment, but knew that Raphael would coax him into eating anyway. Somehow nothing seemed appetizing when you couldn't smell. Raphael touched his cheek gently before getting up from the futon and wandering to the kitchen. He came back moments later with a glass of water and – Mikael shuddered – more of the medicine.
"How's your throat, darling?" Raphael asked, his expression one of concern.
"Not so bad. The medicine helps," – even if it tastes like liquid death – Mikael thought privately.
Raphael leaned down and pressed their lips together briefly. "I made soup. Want to come eat it at the table, or do you want me to bring it to you?" Mikael thought it over, and then decided that what he really wanted was to snuggle up to Raphael and be cuddled. "Bring it here?"
"Aa." Raphael left and returned with mug of soup, which Mikael took from him and gingerly sipped once before deciding that his current position was untenable. Raphael protested laughingly as Mikael resolutely snuggled against him firmly, arranging Raphael's arm to curl around his shoulder. "Are you done rearranging my limbs?" Raphael teased, snuffling his nose into Mikael's wing arch.
Mikael snuffled with laughter before breaking out into coughing fit. That hurt. Raphael rubbed his back and called him all manner of ridiculous pet names. "Here you go, angelpuff," Raphael said soothingly, handing him a tissue.
"'Angelpuff'?" Mikael asked him incredulously.
Raphael grinned wickedly, and Mikael felt a familiar warmth spread through his body at the expression. "Would you rather I called you 'pumpkin' again?"
Mikael rolled his eyes in horror at the remembrance of Raphael's slip last month while calling him down to the office - Will Mikael please report to the Professor's office? Pumpkin, I can't find those envelopes!
They talked a little more, and Mikael managed to finish his soup before his eyelids felt very heavy once again. Raphael cuddled him close and Mikael blissfully retreated to the land of very heavily drugged sleep.
Mikael spent the weekend recovering, and by Sunday night, he was looking and feeling mostly back to normal. Raphael, however, was highly conscious that Mikael had spent most of the weekend sleeping and he was feeling a little…neglected.
So he called Gabriel at his office (because, where else would he be on a Sunday night?) and put on his very best official voice. "Hello, Gabriel. It's Raphael. Listen, my students are really stressed and overworked – I think they deserve a surprise holiday."
He could almost hear Gabriel twitch on the other end of the line. "You, or them, Professor?"
"Them, definitely them." Raphael swore mentally and reached out for the Metatron. /Yo, Koe, want to give me some divine intervention?/
Uriel butted in. /What's in it for us?/
Raphael sent him a cheerful smile. /Monday off, if we go over Gabby's head./
A little static as the two consulted, and then Koe's voice floated through his mind. /It's all good. I'll lean on Gabby a little. Thanks for the idea, Raphael…it'll be nice to spend the day in bed, don't you think?/
Raphael blew them both a mental kiss. /Thanks. Owe you one./
He returned to his phone conversation to hear Gabriel spluttering. "What do you MEAN, Most Holy says so? He does? Now wait just a minute, you can't…well, I suppose He can. I…oh, fuck it. I give up." Gabriel hung up and Raphael looked at the now dead phone in satisfaction.
"Ne, Mikael…how about we spend tomorrow in bed?"