This Universe Is Ours (BxB)

S I X

Although Aaban had been avoiding the reality of time-space travel, the correlation between visiting Oscar and the decline of his health had become somewhat inescapable. Initially, Aaban had blamed it on the changing of the seasons, the time of year where everyone had caught some variation of illness. Aaban listened to his classmate's coughing, sneezing, and wiping their noses with the backs of their sleeves during his exams. As his illness worsened, Aaban blamed hangovers, food poisoning, lack of sleep, and the freshly fallen snow. Yet it had become increasingly clear that the more he saw Oscar, the sicker he became in his own world. His eyeballs ached in his skull, and he spluttered up blood whenever he coughed. Growing weaker and weaker, lumps, welts, and rashes emerged across his chest and back. Last night, Aaban, waking up and shivering in the dawn light, had believed he had wet the bed; however, he had merely sweated so much his sheets were soaked through.

After his father had fallen asleep on the sofa, Aaban decided to visit Oscar with the intention of explaining his situation. He tilted his head backward, closed his eyes, and inhaled slowly, focusing on the interior of his mind. Opening his eyes, he observed the plastic stars tacked on the ceiling of Oscar's bedroom, feeling Oscar's warmth beside him. Although they were both in their pajamas, there was something intimate in lying beside one another on Oscar's bed, their arms and legs slightly touching.

"Hey," Oscar whispered. Unsurprised, as if he were expecting Aaban that very moment, he turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow, peering down towards Aaban lying beneath him.

"Hi," Aaban replied.

"How was school for you today?" Oscar asked with genuine interest.

"It was okay," Aaban decided he would be truthful, "I had to leave the dodgeball game twice today to vomit. I'm not 100% sure, but I think visiting you is making me ill."

"Really," Oscar replied, his eyes widening with concern, "why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I don't know," Aaban admitted, "I've only just realized it myself... I think my body isn't designed to teleport to a town three hours away."

"You're right," Oscar sighed, "I don't want you getting sicker, so I'll come and visit you next time. It'll give you a break."

"Thank you," Aaban smiled weakly, "you don't have to be so kind."

"It's what I'm here for," Oscar patted Aaban's shoulder, "can I get you some water? Paracetamol? Or anything else?" Aaban shook his head, resisting the urge of saying a cuddle would do the trick. Instead, he lay there in the silence, while an unspoken tension expanded in the air between them. Aaban's chest tightened as he clenched his fists, hoping Oscar couldn't hear his heart beating a little faster.

"I have a rash on my chest too," Aaban awkwardly interrupted the quiet, "it's been growing, especially after I visit you." Aaban had crash-landed into Oscar's life three times since Oscar had bumped into Aaban in the hardware store. Last Wednesday, they shared a hot chocolate with Hadiza, swinging their legs off the frosted bridge overlooking a duck pond. Their laughter clouded in the air as they watched the ducks flap about, spinning autumn leaves with their wings across the murky water. After he had returned to his own world, Aaban had noticed the rash had stretched to his belly button.

"Could I see?" Oscar asked. Aaban tensed his shoulders and hesitated, before slowly unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his chest dashed with dark hairs. Oscar studied his body and breathed slowly; Aaban fussed with the final button before draping his shirt open, revealing the dark rash clouding across his skin.

"Oh god," Oscar gasped, "that's much worse than I had imagined... I'm so sorry... does it hurt?"

Aaban shook his head.