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Part 1 of Wear Soup Today
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Published:
2022-05-24
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3,040
Chapters:
1/1
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124
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First Responder

Summary:

Early in their relationship, Sonny takes care of a sick Barba.

Notes:

I read so many super adorable&cute Sick!Raf/Caring!Sonny-stories on here that I couldn't resist trying to write one myself, and here it is. Hope you'll enjoy it. :)

The saltwater thing is my Dad's actual cure for everything (And I mean everything. Stubbed toe? Saltwater. Broken heart? Saltwater.), so I decided it was the Barba Household's cure-all thing, too, because I have the power.

Work Text:

In the end he settled for soup. Soup was a nice gesture, it showed you cared and if Barba was too sick to eat it right away, it could always be stored in the fridge and re-heated later.

Good boyfriends brought soup, and if Sonny wasn’t sure, yet, if that was what he was – Barba’s boyfriend – then it certainly was what he wanted to be. Maybe it could be even be taken as a friendly hint. ‘Look, I can be useful. You can call me when you’re sick and I’ll bring you soup and pet you and make sure there’s tissues on the nightstand.’

Of course, he wasn’t miffed Barba hadn’t told him he was sick, that was to be expected. Hence the soup hint. He was maybe a tiny bit miffed that Barba had canceled their date the day before without letting on that it was because we was sick. He’d muttered something along the lines of ‘can’t make it, sorry, will make it up to you, don’t be mad, I’ll get tickets for that show you keep going on about’ and something or other about being ‘busy’ or needing to be doing something somewhere without a single mention of that ‘somewhere’ most likely being his bed and the ‘something’ being too sick to even show up for work, which both Liv and Carmen had described at ‘a first’.

So by the time Sonny found out Barba was indeed at home sick, it was already the second day and also explained why he hadn’t gotten a reply to his morning text.

And, no, he hadn’t been spending all day wondering what he’d done to annoy Barba, hadn’t been so caught up in his own disastrous imaginations even Amanda had told him to ‘get out of your head or get a coffee or get a grip, but GET!’ and, no, obviously he hadn’t called Barba twice only to find his phone set to voicemail and of course he hadn’t taken that as proof of Barba willfully ignoring him. He hadn’t though Barba had gone to bed the night before after canceling dinner, having decided Sonny wasn’t worth his time after all, never mind that ‘maybe I just like you more than I let on, because I’m a bitter old man, Detective?’-comment the other day that Sonny had taken to mean ‘I am falling in love with you’ in BarbaSpeak.

Of course Sonny had done none of that, that’d be ridiculous. He was a grown man, he didn’t worry about not getting a morning text. He might MISS it, okay, but only because Barba’s morning texts were surprisingly adorable.

Anyway – that was all in the past. He had NOT spent over an hour trying to come up with a reason for calling Barba officially – about the job - only to again be sent straight to voicemail so he could call the ADA’s office and have Carmen reveal to him that Barba was, in fact, home sick and his ongoing casework had temporarily been given to a colleague.

That had just happened. Barba worked with them after all, sometimes Sonny needed to call him. About law stuff.

So that’s when Sonny had told Liv that Barba was sick, Liv had repeated Carmen’s ‘that’s a first’ and Sonny had started thinking of an excuse to finish work early, which didn’t take too long, cause Liv, Amanda and Fin all agreed on him being distracting to the whole squad by being so distracted and sent him home, Amanda yelling after him to “call her or get that number or whatever the hell it is, but get it done, I can’t watch this one more day!”

He had settled on soup on the way to Barba’s building and was balancing it on one hand now as he rang the bell.

Figuring Barba was probably in bed or maybe on the couch and had to get up and walk to the door (and feeling guilty for making him get up, but not guilty enough to regret coming), Sonny waited for far longer than he normally would and was just about to ring again, when the intercom cackled to life.

“Yeah?” a raspy, cough-y, strained voice that vaguely resembled Barba’s asked.

“It’s me,” Sonny said, smiling even though there was no camera. “I brought soup.”

Silence.

Then the buzzer going off so abruptly Sonny almost fell inside, miraculously saving the soup. He took the elevator up to Barba’s floor, walked down the hallway and hurried his steps when he spotted Barba’s very pale face peeking round his door.

“Hey,” Sonny said as a greeting, eyes wide at the pitiful picture. “I brought soup.”

“You said,” Barba rasped out. He was clinging to the door with shaking hands and his knees buckling, clad in loose gray sweatpants and a light brown t-shirt Sonny instantly thought he should wear more often. It brought out his eyes, but maybe because they were fever-bright, too, shimmering like green ocean water.

“Can I come in?” Sonny asked when Barba didn’t move.

“Yes. Sorry, course.” Barba frowned and shuffled backwards on bare feet, holding on to the door as he opened it wider, and Sonny now realized he needed it for support.

“Here, let me…” Sonny quickly wriggled past him into the apartment, so he could put the soup container onto the nearby breakfast counter, then turned to grab Barba’s arms. “You need to go back to bed. You’re really sick, huh?”

“’mfine,” Barba muttered, not letting go of the door. Sonny had to basically close it with Barba attached to it. “Not… uh, not sure I can eat, sorry.”

He sounded so distraught Sonny briefly squeezed his shoulders he was now holding in a half hug. “No problem, it’ll hold till you’re better. C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.”

“Was…” Barba asked, stumbling over his feet as Sonny gently dragged him towards his bedroom, “was there… s-something you wanted?” He blinked up at Sonny, clearly confused, and Sonny stopped for the briefest moment to put his palm flat against his forehead.

“Shit, you’re burning up.”

“Uh, yeah,” Barba said sheepishly. He sagged slightly in Sonny’s hold and Sonny gently hoisted him back up, holding him closer. Now that Barba’s whole side was pressed closely against him he could feel the heat through their clothes. “Got a bit of a fever…”

“I say,” Sonny said and continued walking them towards their destination at the end of the hallway. Once there, he froze, frowning at the bed. “Where-”

“Oh, in, uh, in there,” Barba said, vaguely gesturing for the bathroom two steps down the hallway.

Sonny leaned his long body backwards to see the blankets and pillows on the bathroom floor, forming a little nest next to the toilet.

“Christ,” he muttered and softly nudged Barba to have him walk to his bed, where he lowered him as gently as he could.

Barba immediately curled up on his side, eyes closing with a relieved sigh.

Sonny brushed his hand through Barba’s hair, noticing how it flopped through his fingers without sticking up. It felt somewhat sweaty but soft. Either the plague had hit him after his morning shower the day before or he’d stuck his head under the faucet at some point to cool down, which seemed more likely.

“I’ll be right back,” he said softly. Barba hummed under his breath, not opening his eyes.

Quickly gathering the bedding from the bathroom, Sonny put it all back on the bed, gently lifting Barba’s head to shove a pillow under it and covering him with a blanket, then collected a waste basket from Barba’s tiny little home-office (a desk squeezed in between his couch and the wall in the living-room) and put it next to the bed.

“When’s the last time you threw up?” he asked, sitting on the bed and stroking Barba’s hair.

“Hmmmdunno,” Barba mumbled into the pillow. “Called in sick.”

“Yeah, that was yesterday,” Sonny said. “Were you sick after that?”

“Yeah.” Barba clumsily tugged on the blanket as if trying to drag it up further.

“And… today?”

“Dunno. Sorry, honey, I’m tired.” He blinked his eyes open, glassy gaze finding Sonny. He tried to pat his knee but missed by a long shot, his hand falling almost bonelessly onto the mattress. “Thanks for the soup.”

“Okay,” Sonny said and leaned down so he could meet Barba’s eyes. “Raf. Have you been able to keep anything down? When’s the last time you had something to drink?”

“Uhm…”

“Were you asleep when I rang the door?”

Barba’s brows furrowed as he considered the question. “I keep throwing up,” he said at last and coughed a little, turning his face into the pillow. “Just need sleep.” His eyes fell shut. “I’ll call you ‘morrow.”

Sonny ran a hand over his face, shaking his head as he watched Barba curl up more. “Okay. Okay.” He dragged the blanket a little higher up Barba’s shoulders and put a quick peck to his temple, before he got up and collected a tall glass of water from the kitchen, rummaged through the bathroom cabinet for a few minutes and returned to the bed.

“Raf.” He gently shook his shoulder. “Rafael.”

Barba opened his eyes. He looked so exhausted Sonny wanted to hug him.

“Drink this.” Sonny helped him up sit up a little. “Tiny sips.” He held the glass steady as Barba’s shaking fingers tried and failed to grip it.

Once Barba had taken about five sips, Sonny pulled it back. “Okay. Let’s see how this goes. If you keep it down, we’ll try broth. You need some electrolytes. Where’s your thermometer?”

Barba frowned.

Sonny sighed. “Raf. Do you have a thermometer?”

Barba frowned deeper, nestling back down into the pillow. “I just need t’sleep,” he mumbled, awkwardly trying to drag his blanket over his head against Sonny’s hold on it.

“No, we need to find out your temperature. You feel really hot. Do you not have a thermometer?”

Barba stopped when his hand holding the blanket hit Sonny’s for the fourth time and cast him a desperately apologetic look. “Maybe I could eat your soup now?”

Despite himself, Sonny snorted and withdrew his hand, brushing the hair out of Barba’s forehead. “Right. I’ll go buy one and some tylenol, okay? You just stay put. Don’t get up if you’re gonna be sick, okay?” Sonny lifted the waste basket to show it to Barba. “It’s right here. Okay? Stay put, don’t move. I’ll take your key, ‘n I’ll be right back. Alright? Raf?”

“Sorry?” Barba’s voice was so small Sonny would have deemed it adorable if it hadn’t been so heartbreaking.

“It’s alright, nothing to be sorry for. I’ll be right back. Okay? Try to get some sleep.” He pecked Barba’s hot forehead, then his nose for good measure. “Don’t try to get up.”

“Sorry,” Barba muttered again, eyes falling shut again.

“Aw sweetheart…” Sonny briefly bent down to press his forehead against the side of Barba’s head, pecked the tip of his ear and quickly got up to go buy a thermometer.

***

Barba’s temperature turned out to be 103.

Sonny fed him some tylenol with more water – apparently he had kept down the few sips from earlier – then made him drink half a cup of lukewarm broth and wiped down his neck and chest with a cold cloth.

Barba was somewhat with it throughout, commenting on the soup Sonny had brought being a bit disgusting – “But it’s still really nice of you.” - and nodding as if he understood when Sonny told him it was just broth, not the soup.

“You can have that when you’re better. Tomorrow. Hopefully tomorrow.”

“’s still really nice of you… No one’s ever brought me soup… I tried gargling with salt water earlier.”

“Why?” Sonny asked. “Does your throat hurt?”

“Nah, you just have to.”

“Okay.” Sonny chose not to inquire any further. He was overly aware of how out of it Barba was, to the point of saying things he’d feel embarrassed about later, and tried not to encourage him while still being supportive.

Once the thermometer showed 102, Sonny put a cold washcloth on Barba’s forehead and told him to go to sleep. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“'m really sorry I canceled our date,” Barba slurred, eyes closed.

“That’s fine. You just go to sleep and get better. I’m not mad.” Sonny stroked his hair. “Go to sleep.”

“Y’know,” Barba muttered, his head following the motion of Sonny’s hand when he withdrew it like a cat seeking out to be petted, “I kinda love you. I won’t, y’know, say it, but you’re so...” He sighed, adding, “I’ll be so sad when you leave,” just as he was falling asleep.

Sonny stared at him for a good few minutes before he gently adjusted the blanket, turned the washcloth and just let his fingers linger on top of it. He ran the tip of his index finger down Barba’s nose and along his jaw, then cupped his cheek.

“I… kinda love you, too,” he said softly. “You’re so… you know, too, so… I don’t think I’ll leave.”

He smiled at his sleeping boyfriend and quietly left to settle in front of the tv in the living-room.

***

Sonny was in the middle of a documentary on what would happen on Earth if the moon disappeared from one day to the next – pretty much what he’d thought – when he became aware of quiet shuffling noises and the distinct sounds of bare feet on linoleum. Switching on the light in the living-room, he heard the bathroom door close and got up to walk down the hallway.

“Rafael?” he asked, and when no reply came, “You okay?”

At least, “Yeah, just…” The toilet flushing, water running. The door opened. “Sorry.”

“No prob,” Sonny said, taking in Barba’s appearance. He looked somewhat more stable on his feet, though he was still holding on to the wall for support. “Y’okay?”

“Yeah,” Barba said. His voice sounded better. “I think, uh… yeah.” He swayed slightly and scoffed, when Sonny reached out to grab his waist. “Just… y’know… haven’t eaten in two days, uh… ‘mfine.”

“So not fine at all,” Sonny said and dragged him closer so he could half carry, half walk him back to his bed. “Sit,” he ordered as he put him onto the mattress, then went to heat up the by now famous soup.

When he returned, balancing a hot bowl of soup on a tray, Barba was sitting propped up against a pillow, running a hand through his hair. By now, it WAS sticking up at amusing angles, making him look much younger.

Sonny smiled. “Here.” He carefully put the tray down and guided Barba’s hand to the spoon. “D’you need-”

“I can eat by myself, thanks.”

Sonny held up his hands in a surrendering gesture and watched Barba’s expression soften.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Sonny said and smiled. “You’re a big boy, you don’t need no help, you’re fine sleeping on the bathroom floor with a fever. Thermometers are for pussies.”

Barba’s expression turned from soft to wry. “I rarely get sick.”

“So I’ve heard,” Sonny said innocently.

“Last time I needed a thermometer I was at Harvard and they had one.”

“No, last time you needed one was today and I bought you one.”

Barba frowned, dripping soup onto his t-shirt without noticing. “Are you mad at me for being sick? You didn’t have to stay.”

Sonny stared at him, wide-eyed, and laughed. He climbed onto the bed to sit next to him and peck the top of his head, sweat and all. “No, babe, I’m not mad. Just, next time, tell me you’re sick so maybe someone checks on you after two days? You were sleeping in your bathroom, d’you remember that?”

Barba lowered the spoon and his head, seemingly curling in on himself in shame. “I’m not…” he started and stopped, then ate two spoonfuls of soup as if to shut himself up. “This is good,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”

“You’re not what?” Sonny asked.

Barba ate three more spoonfuls, and said, “used to this,” without looking up. His grip turned white-knuckled around the spoon as he kept his gaze decidedly down, studying the soup.

“Okay,” Sonny said carefully, sensing he was treading on unsteady ground. “Cause you don’t get sick?”

Barba didn’t reply. He continued eating the soup very slowly, drawing in a deep breath after the fourth swallow, so Sonny put a gentle hand over his.

“Raf. You don’t have to eat it. Or tell me anything. Okay? I’m not mad or… I dunno, whatever the problem is, I’m not… I’m not it. Okay? So don’t call me next time you’re sick, I’ll probably find out, anyway, just like this time, cause we work together, right? And I’ll come here with soup and now you have a thermometer, too, and it’ll all be fine. Everything is fine. Okay? We’re good. Alright?”

The expression on Barba’s face when he lifted his head to look at Sonny was so grateful Sonny wanted to hurt someone.

“That sounds nice,” Barba said, voice breaking just the tiniest bit.

“Cool,” Sonny said, took the spoon from him and put the bowl away onto the nightstand, then leaned down to loom over him and kiss him. “You wanna sleep or try getting up? What you wanna do?”

“I’m too wiped out for sex,” Barba said, “though I wanna make you come really hard more than anything right now.”

Dumbfounded, Sonny nodded. “Uh… You... might just by talking like that.”

Barba snorted and nudged his nose with his. “Tell me something nice I can do for you. I… Anything. I really … I want to.”

Sonny looked into his green, green eyes. Lost. “You don’t have netflix,” he said at last.

“Alright,” Barba smiled, “let’s fix that, then. So you’ll have something to watch… next time.”

His heart melting, Sonny still managed to put on his best playful excited-puppy-expression. “Can I have hulu, too?”

And so maybe Barba wasn’t going to say ‘I love you’ any time soon, but it was right there, in his eyes, for Sonny to see, and they both knew it, when he replied, “And Disney plus.”

THE END

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