length: 833 words
warnings: none
requested: no
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Kirby coughed violently, causing you to turn over and face him, quickly pressing a hand to his forehead. "Baby," you whispered, "I don't think you should go to training today." His face was pale and he had dark bags under his eyes.
"I'm fine, seriously, babe," he smiled at you before getting out of bed and into the shower. "It's just a bit of a sore throat."
"You're not fine," you murmured as soon as he got out and started coughing again.
"I am, I promise," Kirby kissed your forehead before grabbing his bag. "I'll see you later, okay. I love you."
"I love you too," you smiled as he rushed outside to meet one of the guys that was driving him to the rink.
Approximately half an hour later your phone started ringing and you answered, wondering why Kirby was calling you when he meant to be training. However, it wasn't his thick Canadian accent that you heard.
"Hi, (y/n), this is Duncan, Duncan Keith. Kirby is pretty sick so Colliton's kicked him out of training and I'm going to bring him home. I just wanted to check that you would be in."
"Yeah, I'm here. Thank you so much. Can I speak to him?" you said nervously.
"Sure," Duncan murmured before passing the phone over to Kirby.
"I'm never believing you again."
"I'm sorry," Kirby coughed harshly. "I love you."
"I love you too," you smiled and then hung up, rushing about the house to find medicine and the leftover chicken soup that your mom brought over.
As soon as the doorbell rang, you pulled Kirby inside and thanked Duncan again before shutting the door. "How do you feel?" you murmured as Kirby leaned on you.
"Not good," he whispered, flopping down on the couch.
You quickly passed him the glass of water and pills you had prepared, "Baby, can you take these for me? They should start working soon. I'm just going to grab you some clothes, okay?"
"No, I don't want you to go," Kirby whined but accepted the medicine.
"I'll only be gone for a minute."
"Pinky promise?" he pouted.
"Pinky promise," you interlocked your two little fingers before walking into your bedroom to retrieve a long sleeved shirt and sweats for Kirby.
"Hey, Kirby," you said gently as soon as you returned to the living room. He hummed and kept his eyes closed, half-asleep. "I got you some clothes."
"I don't feel good," he mumbled, pale face squished into a cushion.
"I know baby, but you'll be more comfy like this," you helped him sit up.
"I still don't feel good, (y/n)," he groaned, shutting his eyes again.
"Come on, arms up," you murmured and he complied, allowing you to pull his t-shirt over his head and swap it with the long sleeved one. "Okay, now hips up baby," you slid his pants off, putting his sweats on. Then you quickly threw his clothes in the hamper before grabbing his favourite blanket from your room.
Placing it gently on him, you moved to sort out his food but Kirby weakly grabbed your wrist. "Come and cuddle me," he whined, giving you puppy eyes.
"Babe, let me just sort out your soup okay."
"I don't need soup though, I just need your cuddles."
"I know," you stroked his hair, "but the soup will make you feel better."
"I'm not hungry. I promise I'll have it later," Kirby groaned, shoving his face into the cushion again. "I just really need cuddles."
"Okay," you crawled under the blanket next to him. He immediately turned over, nuzzling his face into the crook of your next while slinging an arm over your waist, pulling you tightly to his chest. "I love you."
"I love you too," he mumbled, closing his eyes.
A few hours later you slowly disentangled yourself from Kirby's long limbs and went to heat up the soup. Kirby was going to eat it whether he liked it or not.
"(y/n)?" he croaked from the sofa, stretching his arms.
"Are you okay?" you walked back, holding his soup and a spoon.
"I need my snuggle buddy," he said softly, blushing slightly.
"How about you eat your soup first?" you sat down next to him.
"But I want hugs," he made grabby hands at you.
"Kirby, I love you, but I'm refusing to be your snuggle buddy until you eat your soup."
"Fine," he frowned while sitting up before coughing again.
"I promise it will make you feel better and you did promise to eat it," you passed the bowl and spoon over to him. He quickly ate the soup before setting the bowl down and lying back down, head resting in your lap this time. Then, rolling onto his side, he wrapped his arms around you and nestled his head by your hip.
"Thank you," he breathed out before promptly falling asleep again, his grip on you loosening, and you smiled down at him.
