Ritchie smacked the off button on his alarm clock at 7 am the next morning.

When he sat up, he moaned and clutched his stomach. Richard knitted his eyebrows and laid back down into his disheveled sheets.

He felt hot all over but was shivering at the same time. What Richard couldn't see was how sickly pale he was. Laying flat on his back, Ritchie hoped that if he stayed still, the nausea would pass.

It didn't. And when Elsie didn't see her son come out of his room, she began to worry. He hated being late to school. She abandoned her coffee and went to check up on Ritchie.

"Rich? Are you okay love?" Elsie asked as she opened the door slowly. Richard didn't answer. She walked up to his bed and noticed the pained expression on his face and placed a hand on his forehead.

"Oh dear, you're burning up." Elsie frowned as she brushed Richard's sweat-dampened hair from his forehead.

"I have a project due today... I can't miss school." Ritchie opened his eyes to meet his mother's gaze.

"I'm afraid you'll have to stay home." Richard was about to say something until another wave of nausea hit him like a fist to his gut. He kept his mouth closed and pulled his legs to his chest.

"I can't miss work today, so Paul will watch you. Okay?" Ritchie nodded absently, not really paying attention. She planted a kiss on his forehead and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

"How's Ritchie?" Paul asked, concerned.

"He's too sick to go to school today. It would mean a lot to me if you stayed home today and take care of him." Elsie pleaded.

"Relax, love. Of course I'll stay home with him." He smiled warmly, kissing her cheek. "I'll call the administration so they can get me a substitute."

"Thank you so much Paulie. I've got to go now. Bye!" She pecked her husband on the lips and dashed off to collect her things and leave for work.

Paul ran his fingers through his bedhead and decided to call his the school. But before he could punch in the number, the phone in his hand rang.

"Hello?" He asked groggily.

"Paul, is Ritchie okay?" Asked a familiar and panicked scouse voice.

"George?"

"Yeah, Richard wasn't answering his phone and he's never late to school unless something's wrong."

"Okay, calm down. He's too sick today. Just go to school alright? He'll be fine." Paul hung up before George could say anything and began to dial his boss's number.

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Richard managed to fall asleep again, but not for long.

He rolled on his side and groaned as his stomach churned. Breathing heavily and keeping his eyes shut tight, Ritchie tried to ignore it. But he realized his resistance was futile as he felt another stitch taunt his insides.

Pushing himself out of bed, Ritchie's tired legs carried him as fast as they would allow to the bathroom. Richard sunk to his knees on the cold tile floor and hung his head over the toilet.

From another room Paul heard retching and rushed to the source. He found Ritchie on the floor, clutching the sides of the loo like his life depended on it. Paul crouched beside him and ran his hand along his spine.

"That's it, get all that bad shit outta ye." Paul soothed as Richard emptied the contents of his stomach into the bowl. With his free hand he further coaxed the teen by placing it oh his abdomen. After a few dry heaves, Ritchie wiped his mouth free of sick and flushed. He sat on his heels and leaned back into Paul's arms.

"Feeling better?" Paul cooed.

"A little, yea. Nothing left in there to make me sick." He said breathlessly, patting his stomach.

"Lets get you cleaned up." Paul helped him up and lifted him so Richard was sitting on the bathroom counter. He watched as Paul turned around to fill the bathtub with water.

Once filled, Paul pulled his t-shirt over his head and helped Ritchie off the counter. He stripped him down and helped him into the steamy water.

"Mind if I join you?" Paul asked. Richard shook his head and moved forward to give him room. His trousers and boxers pooled around his ankles before he sunk into the tub behind Ritchie, wrapping his arms around his waist. Paul lathered soap in his hands and proceeded to gently run his hands over the boy's torso.

Richard closed his eyes and lolled his head back onto Paul's shoulder as his hands rubbed soapy circles into his sore belly. Paul placed soft kisses on his shoulder, neck, and cheek as he cleaned him.

"Sorry you're not feelin so hot, baby."

"S'fine... I'll be fine." Ritchie trailed off before having to lean forward and cough loudly into his arm. When he laid back against Paul's chest, he allowed Paul to continue.

The next few, calm minutes were spent in comfortable silence, Ritchie doing his best not to fall asleep. And eventually, Paul helped Richard to stand and step out of the tub.

He grabbed a towel and dried off the both of them, Richard's wobbly legs making him support himself on the counter. Paul noticed his unsteady posture and helped Ritchie sit on the counter. He hissed quietly at the coldness against his bare legs.

The older man stood between the other's legs and slowly sunk to his knees. Paul looked up to the sleepy boy above him before placing his lips on his belly. Richard hummed at the gesture and threaded his fingers through Paul's still damp hair.

"Mm thanks Paulie." Ritchie yawned.

"Anything for my baby." He cooed, standing back up. Paul found his discarded trousers and boxers and put them on before going to Richard's room to find him some clean clothes.

When he returned, Ritchie's head was hanging low between his shoulders. Paul smiled and put the clothes on the counter before placing his fingers under the boy's chin and tilting it up.

"What year is it?" He mumbled when he pryed open his sleepy eyes. Paul chuckled and shook his head fondly.

"Summer of '69."

"Oh you're funny."

"I know, now lets get you dressed and in bed."

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Knock knock knock

Paul pulled his nose out of his book and glared at the door. He reluctantly stood up and made his way to the door.

"George? The hell are you doing here?" He said when he was met with a rather out-of-breath George Harrison.

"I came to check up on Ritchie. Is he okay?" George panted, leaning against the doorframe.

"He's asleep right now Harrison." Paul said rather rudely. George, oblivious to his rude tone opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.

"Paulie? Who's there?" Paul whipped around to see Richard standing behind him and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, quite adorably in Paul's opinion.

"Ritchie baby! Are you okay?" George squeezed past Paul and wrapped his arms gently around his boyfriend.

"Feeling better." He said simply, holding onto his lover with a looser grip than usual. "How was the English assignment?"

"Oh I made up half of it on the spot." George shrugged. Ritchie giggled tiredly as he shook his head.

"You're stupid." George pulled his head back to plant a kiss to Richard's still-warm forehead.

"I'm your stupid." Richard rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's cheesy remark. But when he met the piercing hazel gaze of the older man, he read the consuming jealousy on his face.

Instead of going weak under his stare, Ritchie cheekily slid his hands down George's back and dangerously close to his arse.

Paul clenched his jaw and excused himself silently. Ritchie smirked and nuzzled his face against George's chest, oblivious to whatever Paul was planning for when he got better.
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Guys i did a thing
I may have fuckerd up the heights a bit but hey,, i tried bros

Think of it as an apology for my shit-tier updating consistency <33

Uhm... comment if you'd like to see me draw more Let's Play Dress-up crap, bc i can and I'll attempt something more nsfw as well if y'all want

And also, sorry if this chapter is overall shit gamers