#do u see how cheesy and ooc my little post canon universe is. I just want everyone to banter and cuddle all the time

[spocks-kaathyra]

Cheesy little self-indulgent Pythas sickfic outline with no meaningful plot or character development, just him bantering w Elim. Wanted to give u guys a glimpse of the ooc fluff that's rotting my brain at all times

Pythas wakes up one morning with a cough and Nal is overconcerned as always and tries to convince him to go to the hospital but he brushes her off and says that he will if it gets more serious. She relents but keeps fussing over him. At the next Reunion Project meeting, everyone notices Pythas coughing even though he tries to hide it, and Kelas insists that Pythas come to the hospital for a checkup after the meeting, because smoke inhalation can cause long-term damage that makes burn victims more susceptible to complications from respiratory infections (idk if this is medically true but it seems logical to me). So Kelas examines him and it’s basically just a cold but just in case, he should take it easy until the cough clears and come back for a followup in a week. Kelas sends him home with some cough medicine and instructions to rest and drink lots of water. Elim hears from Kelas that it’s nothing serious, but he still visits Pythas the next day. Nal is out getting groceries or something, and when Elim knocks no one answers. He waits a minute, then breaks in using his super spy skills. Elim walks into Pythas’s bedroom and finds Pythas sitting up in bed. Pythas smiles, checks the time on his tablet, and remarks that it only took Elim 15 minutes—they’ll have to replace their lock to give him more of a challenge next time. Elim huffs incredulously. “It would’ve taken even less time if you had just let me in!” Pythas shrugs. “I didn’t feel like getting out of bed.” His tone is lighthearted, but Elim notices how his voice is rougher than usual. Elim sits on the edge of Pythas’s bed to show him what he’s brought. A few books—“Since you have nothing better to do, I thought you might finally read that book I’ve been recommending.” Pythas doesn’t really like to read, and says as much. Elim insists that Pythas would like this book if only he gave it a chance, and starts to extoll its virtues before Pythas stops him with a noncommittal promise to read it. Elim shakes his head with mock disappointment. “I’ll never understand how you passed First-Level Cardassian Literature.” Pythas smiles that mocking smile and asks what else Elim brought. It’s a tupperware of soup—something herbal-smelling and murky-looking. Elim explains that it’s a Hebitian folk remedy, something that his father—Tolan, not Tain—used to make for him whenever he was ill as a child. Pythas tries it. It’s better than it looks—I imagine it's something like that herbal Chinese chicken soup, but thicker. Elim asks what Pythas was watching on his tablet, and Pythas waves off the question. “May I join you?” Elim asks. Pythas pats the mattress on the other side of him—his blind side. Elim walks around the bed, sits down, and Pythas adjusts the light blanket to cover both of them. When Pythas turns on his tablet again, a TV show starts playing where it left off—a well-known soap opera. Pythas immediately pauses it, embarrassed, while Elim looks at him with the surprise and joy of someone who’s just discovered something new to make fun of their friend for. Elim teases him about it while Pythas closes the show and tries to find something else to watch. They settle on some old action movie—something they can enjoy but also laugh at. Pythas leans against Elim and Elim puts his arm around him. Pythas eats his soup. In a week, he’ll be all better.