Chapter Text
Garrett didn’t think he’d ever get tired of waking up next to Steve.
It had become a trademark of their vacation, a symbol of change. Even though they’d only had the routine for a few days, it felt like the most natural thing ever—as though the queen bed in room 404 was their very own and their first kiss had been a lifetime ago.
“What’s wrong?” Steve’s voice had a gentle rasp to it, his eyes sparkling in the late morning sunlight.
“Nothing,” Garrett insisted, fingers curled in Steve’s hair. “Why?”
“You shut up for like, a whole two minutes,” Steve teased. “It was starting to freak me out.”
Garrett let out a chuckle as he shook his head.
“I was just thinking,” he admitted.
“About what?” Steve yawned.
Garrett was tempted to speak his mind, but afraid he’d sound cheesy, thought better of it.
“Nothing,” Garrett answered, instead leaning down to kiss Steve, hoping to get his feelings across that way. Steve slowly kissed him back, easing a hand onto Garrett’s shoulder and up the side of his neck.
“I’ve been doing my own thinking,” Steve said when they pulled away.
“Oh yeah? About what?” Garrett questioned.
“About how we missed breakfast again.”
The two shared a laugh, and Garrett grabbed his phone off the nightstand.
“Really?” Garrett asked. “I thought for sure we’d make it this morning.”
Steve shook his head. “It’s after 12, I can feel it.”
Garrett rolled his eyes. “I don’t sleep in til after 12-” Then he saw the time. “Holy shit it’s after 12.”
Steve snorted.
“My sleep schedule is ruined,” Garrett sighed.
“You’ll get back to normal,” Steve assured him. “So is this lunch or brunch?”
Garrett shrugged. “Could be dinner for all I care.”
Steve giggled, and leaned up to kiss Garrett again.
The two had a meal of small soft shell tacos on Main Beach. They’d been chatting and were just finishing up—draining the last of their drinks from their cups—when Garrett sighed and sat back on his palms.
“I’m gonna miss this when we go,” Garrett said.
Steve looked up. “Miss what?”
“Everything,” Garrett explained. “The ocean, the weather. The food.”
Steve looked him over, bare from the waist up, neck adorned with puka shells, long hair curling on his shoulders, blowing so effortlessly in the gentle breeze.
“Yeah,” Steve breathed. “I’m gonna miss it too.”
The two briefly looked out to sea again. Then Garrett shot him a mischievous grin, and Steve sat his drink aside because he knew what it meant.
“Race you in?” Garrett challenged.
“Sure. Don’t let me win, okay?” Steve teased.
“As if.”
Another thing Steve would miss, without a doubt, was Garrett’s countdown right before they ran off.
After swimming, the two dried off and made their way back to the hotel to change. They took a shortcut that had them turn off the main road. As they went on their way, they noticed a long, seemingly never ending line of people.
“What's this line for?” Steve wondered.
“I dunno, but it must be something good,” Garrett decided.
Their curiosity got the best of them, and the pair took a few minutes to walk to the front of the line. It lead to a tiny storefront that was advertising a brand new Hunk City Rampage merch drop. There were multiple laminated posters plastered on the single window, one of which had words like exclusive and limited time in a bold font, and another that warned the store capacity maxed out at 15 people, which a group of security guards were keeping a close eye on.
Steve had never seen a line so long in his life. He couldn’t conceive waiting for anything that long, no matter how into it he was.
“Are these people insane?” Steve demanded. “It’s triple digits out here!”
“No way!” Garrett gushed. “I forgot they were doing a drop here!”
“What?”
Garrett began to stutter, overexcited.
“A new merch drop,” Garrett said. “They’re super limited and usually go live online but…y-you know the WiFi at the store is trash so I can never check out on time.” He shook his head. “Anyway, this is the first in-person drop they’ve had in years and I thought I’d finally have the chance to get something. I was planning to go to the one in Boise but since we’d be on vacation I figured I’d just have to miss out. But I forgot they were doing one here, and well…”
Steve blinked as he processed Garrett’s frantic explanation.
“So you wanna…” Steve began, “join the line?”
Garrett shrugged. “It might be pointless since we got here so late, but if there’s even a small chance it could work out…then yeah. Why not?”
It was so hot outside. The sun burned Steve’s skin, already had him craving shade. Not to mention the thought of standing in line for an indefinite amount of time sounded like the least appealing thing ever.
Everything in Steve was telling him to say no. Being famished from the swim, the weather, the very real possibility that he could die of boredom.
But then there was Garrett’s pleading smile, the glimmer in his eyes as he looked over the storefront again—shelves of t-shirts, cups, and other merchandise. And to think Garrett was going to miss his opportunity back home in favor of their vacation…
Maybe the wait wouldn’t be so bad if they were standing together.
“Alright,” Steve sighed. “Let’s do this.”
“Really?” Garrett gasped. “Thanks, Stevie!”
Then Garrett pulled Steve into a tight hug, and for a moment, the ‘yes’ had been worth it.
Garrett didn’t know how he’d convinced Steve to get in line.
They’d spent nearly two hours there, chatting among themselves. A few people had joined the line since then. More had left. They’d struck up a conversation with the newcomers. Steve had expressed he was tired and dropped out of it.
Garrett finished off his leftover lemonade from lunch. The wait hadn’t been as long as he’d anticipated, steadily moving up a spot here and there, not having yet heard of the shop running out of merch. But it was still offensively hot outside, and his cold beverage had been key to getting through it.
It was time to move up another spot. Garrett went to step forward, but quickly realized Steve wasn’t at his side. He looked back to find him slouched against the wall of a stucco building. Steve was heavily flushed, sweating profusely, his tank top stained with it, his face, shoulders, and neck bright red.
Garrett’s eyes widened, and he rushed over to hold him. “Steve? You good?”
Steve could barely open his eyes as he answered in a grumble of a voice, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Steve didn’t know how he’d let Garrett convince him to get in line.
“You don’t look so good.” Garrett’s voice sounded far away over the staticky noise in Steve’s ears, even though he was right in front of his face, blocking out the sun.
That damned sun.
Steve wasn’t okay, at least he didn’t feel like it. No, he felt nauseous, and dizzy, and weak. His vision was darkening at the edges. His skin hurt. He was so thirsty. He was sweating out of every pore in his body and his clothes were surely stuck to him.
Garrett was speaking. Steve couldn’t comprehend a word.
He was not ‘good.’ He was sweaty, and sticky, and sick, and couldn’t move. And even with the firm wall, was too weak to support himself any longer.
Steve struggled to look into Garrett’s eyes, hear his voice through the madness.
“Steve?” Garrett pleaded. “Steve!”
Steve collapsed.
Garrett’s heart lept as he rushed to stop him from falling to the ground.
“Steve!” Garrett shouted his name over and over again, breathless as he tried to get him upright again. “Steve, can you hear me?”
No answer.
Garrett finally forced Steve up against the wall, using it to support his unconscious form, and for a split second, froze up, no idea what to do. He felt stupid that his mind was going blank at a time like this, when Steve’s health was in danger, and Garrett’s heart was beating so hard he couldn’t form a coherent thought.
Then the guy in line behind him was offering him a fresh water bottle with a “Here, take this,” and Garrett was thanking him profusely.
“Get him some shade,” the stranger advised. “And something for that burn.”
The last bit of advice made Garrett do a double take, and upon closer inspection, Steve’s face and arms were most definitely burnt.
But he’d deal with that later.
Garrett slipped the water bottle in his pocket, slung Steve’s arm over his shoulder, and left the line. It was difficult; Garrett kept stumbling. But, step by step, he finally made it into a very small fast food place that was completely empty, even the front counter barren of employees. He sat Steve down at a table for two, still shifting in and out of consciousness, unable to hold his head up.
“C’mon, Steve…” Garrett sat the water on the table and searched around frantically for something he could use as a makeshift fan, before snatching up an abandoned newspaper from another table.
He held Steve’s head up and fanned him rapidly, his hands shaky with adrenaline. Garrett couldn’t help but feel guilty as he silently pleaded for Steve to wake up, guilty that he hadn’t offered him some of his lemonade, or noticed when Steve was starting to show signs of overheating. Steve wasn’t a big complainer, probably hadn’t wanted to inconvenience Garrett by requesting they get out of line so he didn’t pass out.
But it wasn’t any matter now; he needed to focus on waking Steve up.
Garrett fanned him until his arm was sore, and just when he was about to call for help, Steve opened his eyes and stared blankly at him.
“Steve!” Garrett gasped happily. “I’m so glad you’re awake!”
“Gar Gar?” Steve asked, still sounding out of it.
“Here, drink this.” Garrett opened the water bottle with his teeth and brought it to Steve’s lips. Garrett helped him drink it slowly until he coughed and turned his head away, making a little mess.
“Where are we?” Steve questioned. “Where’s the line?”
“You passed out,” Garrett explained, capping up the bottle. “So we had to get out of line and get you into some shade.”
Steve looked away as he processed the information. He looked…so much older slumped in the chair like that. Exhausted, beaten by the sun.
Steve finally looked up again. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Garrett was taken aback by the apology, and before Steve could explain, he cut in. “No, don’t apologize for what just happened out there,” he told him sternly. “Never apologize for needing to take care of yourself. If anything, I should be apologizing for not helping you sooner.”
“Y-You didn’t know-” Steve tried.
“But I could’ve checked in more frequently,” Garrett said. “There was clearly something wrong with you, and I didn’t do anything until it was too late.”
Steve silently held Garrett’s gaze, and he took it as accepting his little speech, so he cleared his throat, and went on.
“The least I can do now is take care of you, Steve,” Garrett insisted, reaching out to place a hand on his. “So let me.”
There was a moment of silence between them, a short time where either only blinked or breathed. Until Steve nodded, and Garrett let out a little sigh of relief.
Steve could barely walk on his own, so Garrett called them an Uber back to the hotel, stopping at a drugstore for supplies along the way. Getting up to the room was a struggle, but they made it, and immediately headed to the bathroom where Garrett carefully sat Steve down on the closed toilet.
Steve being all helpless like this had triggered something inside Garrett, put him into some sort of hyper protective mode, determined to nurse him back to health.
“Drink this,” Garrett advised, handing Steve the bottle he’d been steadily draining. Steve accepted it, but only took a short sip before weakly letting his hand fall to his lap again. “I was reading up on what to do while we were in the car,” Garrett explained, walking over to the bath tub. “You should take a cool bath to help cool off your skin, so I’ll run you one now. If you need ‘em, I can give you some painkillers before or after. We’ll do the aloe vera stuff after too. Don’t let me forget, okay? It’s important to keep your skin cool and hydrated…”
Garrett trailed off as he focused on running the bath, occasionally looking back to check on Steve. When he was finally done, he turned off the faucet.
“Should be good to go.” Garrett sat on the rim of the tub, as close to Steve as he could. “I’ll be right outside when you’re done, okay?” He placed a hand in Steve’s hair, pressed the gentlest of kisses to his forehead, so as not to inflame the skin. “You don’t need help getting in or anything, do you?”
Steve looked at him then, hesitancy in his exhausted eyes.
“Steve?” Garrett prompted. “You’ll be okay in here by yourself?”
Steve looked away. “Actually…”
If Garrett had known Steve was still feeling too weak to bathe himself, he would’ve skipped the bath altogether and patted down his skin with a cold, wet washcloth. But he’d already run the water, and Steve had expressed how much he hated the thought of wasting it all. So they’d made a compromise.
Garrett helped Steve strip and get into the tub, and after, Garrett joined him. It was a tight squeeze, but there was just enough room for the two.
Garrett didn’t mind it so much. He saw Steve shirtless pretty much every day now, and bathing together didn’t sound intimidating in the slightest. Plus, it was convenient. Garrett had been due for a bath himself. Though not sunburnt, very much sweaty and still smelling of the sea. The only thing that put him off was the water. Not ice cold, but far too cool for his liking. He would’ve preferred it a few degrees warmer.
But it didn’t matter. This wasn’t for him; it was for Steve.
Garrett gently scooped some of the water onto Steve’s arms to start, who flinched and sucked his teeth in discomfort.
Garrett yanked his hands away. “What's wrong? Too warm?”
Steve shook his head. “My skin is just really sensitive.”
“I probably should’ve given you those painkillers beforehand,” Garrett muttered. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Get my back for me,” Steve requested.
Garrett spent the next half hour helping him wash himself, gently working a lathered up washcloth into the skin that wasn’t red and blistering, and gently rinsing the parts of his body that were. It was difficult. Almost every move he made felt like it was hurting Steve, the man squirming in Garrett’s grasp each time he accidentally brushed bits of inflamed skin. But he was slowly getting better at it, taking his time.
Steve sat back against Garrett as he washed his hair, careful not to get any shampoo on his sunburnt face. They locked eyes for a brief moment, and Garrett’s movements slowed to a halt.
“What’s up?” Garrett asked softly.
“I should get you to wash my hair all the time,” Steve said.
Garrett chuckled and went back to it.
After rinsing and drying themselves off, Garrett sat with Steve on the bed—towels wrapped around their waists—and rubbed aloe vera gel on his arms, face, and chest. He could tell Steve was trying not to flinch or make any sounds of pain, twitching and shutting his eyes every time Garrett was a little too rough. When he was done, he smiled at the look of relief on Steve’s face.
Even though the sun was still out, the two changed into their sleepwear and laid down, turning on a movie and cuddling up together. They laid on their backs, the lights off and the curtains drawn, Garrett with his arm around Steve, and Steve resting his head on Garrett’s chest.
“This alright?” Garrett asked.
Steve nodded, giving him a small smile. “It’s perfect.”
Garrett held him tighter as he finally let himself relax. He didn’t think he’d be so tired, but the past week of early mornings and late nights were catching up to him. His eyes were drooping before he even realized, the movie on screen not even registering. The mattress was so much softer than he remembered, the blanket far cozier. Holding Steve like this didn’t help either, the other man like a giant, warm teddy bear, the scent of his lavender shampoo soothing his senses.
Garrett yawned, and let his eyes fall shut.
He would’ve felt embarrassed for falling asleep so fast if he hadn’t heard Steve’s snores right before he drifted off.