Title: Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Torch Song Trilogy (post-play)
Rating: G
Pairings: all canon ones (Arnold/Ed currently)
Warnings: male/male relationship
Disclaimer: Harvey Fierstein is brilliant and I have no right to have written this. The muses made me do it. It’s just for fun. Please, please don’t sue me.
Summary: Sickness, some dramatic over-reacting, and one big happy family.
Author Notes: I was looking through the challenge bunnies and this story practically served itself up to me on a platter. I know it’s a pretty random fandom/verse to be playing with (sorry Harvey!!!) but for some reason I just couldn’t resist. I realized when I was at the very end that I probably should have written it in the form of a play, especially since it’s pretty dialogue-driven already. But by then it was too late and not too bad so c’est la vie!
Bunny: 9 & 10
Feedback: I’d love some!

Arnold rolled over in bed, blinking blearily at the sunlight which hit him right in the face. Ed insisted on waking up and opening the curtains in the morning in an insanely optimistic way, and Arnold allowed it since it was Ed who had to get up at such an early hour anyway. This morning, he was especially interested in going right back to sleep. He'd been fighting a cold for a week now and was scheduled to perform tonight. He needed all the rest he could get to save his voice, which made him chuckle to himself at what was worth saving.

But Ed came back into the room unexpectedly. He went straight for the closet to change ties. He noticed Arnold. "Good. I'm glad you're awake. Now I don't have to do it."

"Do what?" Arnold croaked, his normally raspy voice sounding unusually tired as he came fully awake.

"Wake you up," he said. "I needed to."

Utterly confused and annoyed at being so, Arnold sat up in bed and pushed down the covers dramatically. "What are you talking about?"

"I've got to head to work pretty soon, and you've got to look after David." David was old enough to look after himself, at least as far as making breakfast for himself and catching the subway to the high school was concerned. And Arthur was just about ready to tell Ed this, when Ed in turn told him, "Looks like David's come down with that cold you had." Ed put a tie around his neck and tied it. "And the boy refuses to eat a thing."

Arthur was out of bed in an instant, slipping his feet into blue, knit bunny slippers and pulling on a matching bathrobe. He quickly headed out of the bedroom. The two bedroom apartment was large enough for a family, but still small by all standards. There was one big room, divided into a sitting room and a kitchen, and off that were four doors. One was the front door, with its two doorknobs and three locks. Another led to the bathroom, which was far too small to be shared by three gay men-- assuming that Ed would call himself gay eventually, especially after living with Arnold for two years. The other two doors were to bedrooms.

It took Arthur all of three seconds to be standing over the small breakfast table, arms crossed, looking down at his son. "Ed says you won't eat. Is that true?"

David looked up, having to crane his neck. He sniffed.

"Mmm," Arthur said. He went straight to the refrigerator to the bottle of orange juice. They were running low and Arthur made a mental note to ask Ed to get groceries on his way home from work. He poured a glass and plunked it down on the table in front of David. "Drink," he commanded. "I'll make you some chicken noodle soup."

David groaned at the sound of it, just as Ed was coming out of the bedroom. He drank some juice then set the glass back down on the table so hard drops splattered. David's face fell, jaw dropping open and eyes closing. Then he shook in his seat. "hischihhhh!"

Ed sighed and headed over. He pushed the tissue box which was already on the table over so far it hit David in the chest. "What did I just talk to you about? We cover our noses here when we sneeze."

"We do, do we?" said David, sniffling so badly that he had to reach for a tissue whether he wanted one to begin with or not. "Well, we were here before you. So technically you're in no position to--"

"Just use a tissue!" Ed laughed. He reached down and ruffled David's brown hair.

"Yes, Mom," David said reluctantly.

"Hey, Ed?" Arnold called, going through the drawers. "Where's our can opener?" He was perfectly capable of making some proper soup from scratch for the kid. But there just weren't the ingredients he needed in the fridge. He'd have to settle for the canned stuff right now. If he could just find the damned can opener.

"I think it's in the dish drainer," Ed said, walking over and digging it out from beneath pots and pans.

David groaned again. "Pop, I don't want soup."

Arnold laughed, and snatched the can opener from Ed. "I don't care what you want. You're going to eat it anyway. You've got to have soup. It's Jewish Penicillin. And worries go down better with soup than without."

David rolled his eyes and bent over the tissue box, pressing his cheek on the table. "Bad enough having two fathers who think they're two mothers. But now you sound like an old Jewish woman."

Arnold was over there in two steps and smacked the back of David's head. David winced and coughed. "I'm not old," Arnold said. Then he bent over a little and kissed David's head, following it up with an affectionate ruffling of hair.

"Besides," said David, lifting head and taking another tissue out of the box. "I'm not worried."

"Good," said Arnold, who emptied the can into a pot and set that on the stove. "Because I am."

David managed a "Wh... why?" before sneezing again, into a tissue this time. "eh-HihShtttt!"

"Why?" echoed Arnold, stirring. "Because you're sick, that's why." He sighed dramatically, the worry evident in his voice. "So you are getting this soup and you're going to eat every bit of it." He stirred madly then turned down the heat on the burner. "And after you eat, I'm taking you to the doctor."

David groaned again, his cheek crashing down to meet the tabletop again. "Po-ooooop!" he whined. "It's just a cold." He looked over for help. "Ed, tell him it's just a cold."

Ed looked torn for a moment, unsure about whose good side he wanted to be on. He was smart enough to know he didn't want to be on Arnold's bad side. He took a step back, staying out of this.

David continued arguing his case. "But, Pop, you got over this without going to see a doctor."

"And I want better for you," Arnold replied. He got out a bowl and poured nearly all of the soup into it. He took out two spoons, one for himself to finish the soup off with. "Doctors are important," Arnold said, putting the bowl in front of David and forcing a spoon into his hand. "You know what they say- don't live in a town where there are no doctors."

"What about teachers?" Ed said, shrugging on his suit jacket, and then his winter coat on top of that.

"Just as necessary," Arnold declared, smiling kindly towards Ed. "And don't forget drag queens."

"How could I possibly?" Ed laughed. "If I did, you'd probably hit me with that pot!"

Arnold laughed with him, and shot daggers in David's direction until the kid ate a spoonful of soup and went for a second one. "All right then, I'll let you both live." He looked back at Ed, who was wrapping a scarf around his neck, preparing to brave the cold, snowy streets of New York. Arnold presented his cheek expectantly.

"Oh no," Ed shook his head, his blond hair loose until he pulled a cap over his head. "I'm not kissing you- either of you- until you're one hundred percent well. I get enough germs from my students, thank you very much. I can't afford to take a sick day right now."

Arnold pouted. But he was armed with another handy Jewish proverb. "The rich are those who are happy with what they have."

"ihh-Htshhhttt!"

Arnold tried to keep from laughing, but his smile was irrepressible. "Even if what you have is a teensy-weensy head cold."

"If it's so little," interjected David, "Why are you force-feeding me soup and dragging me to the doctor?"

"Just for that..." Arnold said, storming over. He topped off David's bowl again with what was left of the soup in the pot. David looked dejected but resumed eating. And Arnold looked back to Ed, batting his eyelashes.

Ed laughed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Call me later about getting groceries." Arnold was somewhat grateful and somewhat amazed that the groceries would occur to Ed. He managed a nod. Ed lowered his voice. "You take care, too, all right?"

Arnold agreed and nodded. He wanted another kiss, a proper kiss. But he settled for pulling Ed's gloves out of the pockets of the coat and easing them onto Ed's hands. "Good luck. Stay warm out there."

"ihh-Hih-shihh!"

Both turned to look at David, who had been struck with a sudden sneeze and hadn't had time to go for the tissues. Ed chuckled. "Good luck in here."