#rancher duo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pastelitey · 3 days

Text

Solidaritek: Rain Check

Rainy days are perfect for staying inside and catching up on some much needed housework, at least in Jimmy’s book. So despite the gloomy weather, things are looking sunny side-up for them—that is, until Tango winds up sick, and is officially down and out for the count. But Jimmy can still clean, run errands and take care of his sick boyfriend all at the same time, right? Right? word count: 3753 paring: Jimmy/Tango tags: Sickfic, Domestic Fluff, Rainy Days, Sleepy Cuddles [ao3 link]

Jimmy, ever the optimist, has lots of plans for the weekend. The gloomy forecast has done nothing to damper his mood, seeing as most of his plans actively involve staying indoors. Despite having officially moved in with Tango nearly two months ago, the apartment is still a mess with all of their things that have yet to be organized. And it doesn’t help that they’ve seriously neglected chores because of their respectively busy schedules, so there is some much needed housekeeping Jimmy is decidedly finally cracking down on.

Suffice it to say, Jimmy’s got a lot on his plate for this weekend, and he’s not going to let anything stop him from getting some work done.

That is until Tango gets sick out of nowhere and the equivalent of twenty toolboxes’ worth of wrenches are thrown into Jimmy’s plans.

Jimmy swears that he’s never seen anyone get as sick so spontaneously as Tango manages to. Sure, he’s used to the occasional allergy spell or stomach bug knocking him or a friend out for a day or two, but when Tango gets sick—even if it’s the mildest little cough—it always ends up spiraling into him having to be on bedrest for a week. Maybe the guy’s just got an awful immune system, but Jimmy’s not sure that even Tango knows why he gets sick so easily.

With the shift in seasons approaching as March slowly droned by, they were both preparing for Tango to come down with something eventually. Knowing Jimmy’s luck, he should have expected that it would happen just as he was planning on actually being productive.

Saturday morning goes a little like this: waking up to both his alarm going off and the sound of rain falling outside the window. He shuts it off as quickly as possible in lieu of not waking Tango, who is currently swaddled under pretty much every single blanket that they own. Jimmy wipes the sleep from his eyes as he warily watches the blob on the other side of the bed, and though the blankets do shift a little, it appears as if Jimmy was successful in not waking his sleeping boyfriend.

He slips out of bed and stretches out his aching joints before shuffling over to the window to peek through the blinds. The fluffy clouds hide the rising sun from view and the rain patters gently and rhythmically on the concrete a few floors below, kicking up a mist that shrouds the view. It’s pretty peaceful watching the rain from the window, but he’s acutely aware of how he very much would like to not get caught outside in this weather if he can help it.

After he’s shucked off his pajamas in favor of some more appropriate clothes for the day, he finally sets about getting some stuff done. Even if Tango’s unable to help, Jimmy’s still determined to be productive around the apartment as best he can.

He begins by taking out the trash by Tango’s bedside and replacing the liner, making sure to work as quietly as possible. He replaces the trash liner in the kitchen as well and leaves the bags by the front door for later disposal. The kitchen itself definitely needs some TLC, so before he can start on breakfast he works on tidying up. He wipes down the countertops and puts all the left out boxes and jars back in their respective homes, and even does a little bit of organizing in the cupboards and fridge while he’s at it. Jimmy cringes when he sees all the dishes he’s let pile up in the sink and wonders how they haven’t started smelling yet. So he loads the dishwasher next and puts away what clean dishes have been left out, and by the time he’s done with that it’s only been thirty minutes since his alarm went off, which feels like a success, if you ask him.

After cleaning off the table and sweeping the tile Jimmy decides it’s sufficiently clean enough for him to shift his focus to the matter of breakfast without feeling guilty. After surveying the meager contents of the fridge—all the while mentally adding grocery shopping to his ever-growing to-do list—he begins scrounging together the ingredients for omelets. As much as Tango loves pancakes, Jimmy just made some for him last night, and he can only have so many of the fluffy cakes before it starts getting repetitive.

As he’s letting the stovetop warm up while mixing together all the ingredients, the bedroom door creaks open—which quickly adds oil the door hinges to his list. Craning his neck, he gets a good look at Tango, swaddled up in blankets and looking for all the world like a bear reluctant to come out of hibernation, as the man waddles into the kitchen. He’d never say it aloud as it would surely only agitate him further, but Jimmy does find it kinda cute when Tango’s nose and cheeks are red like they are now.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Jimmy asks, ensuring to keep his tone down. He pours the first round of eggs into the skillet, one eye on the stovetop and the other on his sleep-hazy boyfriend.

Tango shakes his head, agitating his sleep-mussed hair even further. “Nah,” he says groggily, his words rough around the edges thanks to the sickness. Jimmy gives him a little sympathetic smile before turning back to the task at hand.

Wandering up behind him, Tango wraps his arms around Jimmy’s midsection and leans up against him. Jimmy huffs affectionately as Tango nuzzles into him, slowing his movements reflexively. “Have you taken your temperature this morning?” he asks while he carefully folds the omelet in the skillet.

“Don’ wanna,” comes Tango’s muffled reply. Jimmy rolls his eyes, leaning awkwardly in Tango’s grip to grab a plate to put the omelet on.

“Might wanna get on that.” He presents Tango with the omelet, who eyes it hungrily. The arms slip away from Jimmy’s sides to support the plate and Tango toddles off to the island, the length of the blanket suspended around his shoulders flapping the whole way. Once Tango is successfully situated at the newly cleaned island, Jimmy begins to work on his own omelet.

“Will you pass me the hot sauce?” Tango asks after Jimmy’s poured his eggs into the skillet, making grabby motions towards the countertop that the condiments are situated on.

Jimmy narrows his gaze incredulously at Tango. “The spice isn’t good for your throat, Tango.”

Tango grumbles in response, making puppy-dog eyes at Jimmy. “But I want to actually taste it, Jim!”

“Not today, sorry.” He steps over to the island and slides the salt and pepper shakers closer to Tango with a grin. Tango makes a big show of sighing loftily before accepting the salt and pepper shakers, much to his own chagrin.

While the majority of his to-do list for the day involves tidying up, the very first item on the agenda is to take care of Tango, because who doesn’t appreciate being looked after while they’re sick?

When Jimmy’s omelet is done he slides it across the island to the other stool and then makes a beeline for the bathroom, where he rummages around in the drawers for the thermometer. He emerges triumphant and sets the thermometer down in front of the perturbed Tango, before planting an affectionate kiss on top of the man’s head.

“We need to work on keeping your fever down,” Jimmy says as he sits beside Tango, equipping his utensils to dig into his own breakfast. “Which means a lot more fluids and a lot less blankets.”

Tango huffs out a little whine as he removes the protective covering of the thermometer. “But it’s so cold…”

Before Tango can protest, Jimmy reaches over and plants his palm over Tango’s forehead. Tango makes a noise of discordance, but does not try to evade Jimmy’s touch. He’s not as warm as he was yesterday when the sickness began to ramp up, but the unnatural warmth is still definitely there.

“Still warm.” He pats the thermometer a couple times encouragingly, meeting Tango’s unimpressed look with a zany smile.

When breakfast is had and Tango’s temperature has finally been taken—lower from yesterday, but still higher than Jimmy would prefer—Jimmy is able to get back to tidying up the apartment. The dishes are minimal from breakfast, and Tango even volunteers to put the silverware away. He instructs Tango to drink some water before he runs the trash down the hall to the chute, and when he returns Tango has situated himself on the couch.

“We should watch a movie,” Tango says, remote in hand as he scrubs through the available channels.

“You can turn one on.” Jimmy cringes as he steps across the threshold into the living room, just now noticing how dirty the coffee table is and how he can’t seem to escape doing the dishes this morning. He uses one arm to scoop up the left-out cups and the other to pull one of Tango’s blankets off of him, much to the man’s protest.

It’s a juggle of sorting through their yet-to-be organized boxes of things and checking up on Tango—who is more than content to lay on the couch watching his favorite 80s movies, repeating his favorite lines that he has memorized by heart, all the while poking little jabs at Jimmy when he can. It’s endearing in a way that Jimmy doesn’t shy away from.

By the time Jimmy feels like he’s done enough to be able to vacuum, Tango has paused his movie so he doesn’t miss anything important; the irony of ‘missing something’ in a movie he’s seen countless times does not go unmissed by Jimmy.

As he works his way around the living room, attempting to be both quick and thorough at the same time, he makes sure to voice his apologies to Tango. “Sorry,” he says when he vacuums right behind the couch, leaning over it and using one arm to move Tango’s wrist upwards so that he can kiss his palm. “Sorry,” he says right before pecking Tango on the forehead as he shuffles between the couch and the coffee table. “Sorry,” he says when he finally turns the vacuum off, stepping over and leaning down to press a kiss against the corner of Tango’s mouth.

But before he can, Tango makes a noise of protest and gently pushes him on his chest. “I’m going to get you sick,” he half-laughs out, but the smile on his face gives him away.

“Hm,” Jimmy says contemplatively, unable to deny himself the pleasure of mirroring Tango’s own smile, “Don’t really care.” He settles for a kiss against Tango’s cheek instead, which thankfully comes with less protest from his boyfriend.

“Well you’re gonna care when you end up on the other side of this couch sick with me.” Tango looks up at Jimmy with this indescribable sparkle in his eyes, one that makes Jimmy feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

Jimmy stands up tall and pretends to flex, getting a kick out of the way Tango rolls his eyes. “I’ve got a strong immune system!” He says, even as Tango’s wacking him in the side with one of the throw pillows, the both of them giggling the whole way.

Ten or so minutes later Tango’s phone rings, alerting them that his prescription is ready. So Jimmy’s plans for the day are once more offset as he realizes he is going to have to go out in the rain after all, which still hasn’t let up from this morning.

Shucking on his rain coat and the pair of sneakers he’s least attached to, Jimmy decides to brave the downpour. The raindrops are heavy and cold, so he zips up his coat as tight as possible. The pharmacy is at the corner store just a few blocks down, so there’s no use driving. Considering his luck, he’s not surprised that he has to wait at every single crosswalk, but he’s still dry-ish when he finally makes it into the corner store.

He quickly gets sidetracked, though, when he passes down the canned foods aisle and gets an idea.

“Gem!” he greets when his friend’s face appears on his phone screen, only the top portion of her face visible from this angle. “Quick, what’s the best type of soup for someone who’s ill?”

“Hello to you, too, Jimmy,” says Gem with a little tired laugh. “Are you ill? You don’t look ill.” She squints into the camera lens, which only makes her look sillier given the way her phone screen reflects in the lenses of her glasses.

Jimmy lets out a small laugh, squatting down to survey all his options. “No, not me, Tango.”

Gem backs away from her phone screen, wincing. “Yeesh. Good luck with that.”

“I’m working on it. Now, soup?”

“Ah, yes!” Almost immediately her expression sours. “Wait, why are you asking me this? Pearl is the soup expert!” Before Jimmy can stop her, Gem tilts her head over what looks to be the top of her couch, and shouts, “Pearl! Can you come here?”

Seconds later Pearl appears in frame, the screen now divided between the both of them. “What’s up, Jimmy?” Pearl says in greeting as she spots him on the other side of the facetime call.

“He needs soup advice,” Gem explains to her roommate, all the while adjusting the positioning of the glasses on her face.

The gasp that erupts from Pearl is nothing short of overjoyed. “You need soup advice? I got soup advice! So much soup advice!”

What was supposed to be a quick facetime turns into a soup hunt extravaganza as the three of them work out which soup has the best flavor to medicinal value ratio, while still keeping in mind cost and size of the soup can. They end up settling for a creamy chicken noodle soup, which is probably what Jimmy would have gone with from the get-go, but he doesn’t mind using the excuse to talk to his friends on a gloomy day when bad weather and long-neglected chores keeps them apart.

Gem and Pearl accompany him to the pharmacy counter and wait with him while he gets Tango’s meds, and they say their goodbyes when Jimmy’s suiting up to brave the rain once more. Luckily the weather has let up a little bit to the point of a drizzle, but that doesn’t stop the cars on the street from whizzing by and attempting to drench him with dirty street water.

When he finally makes it back to the apartment with the prescriptions and soup in hand, the movie has ended and Tango is snoring softly on the couch. He stirs as Jimmy moves around the apartment, so when Jimmy walks over with the prescription in hand the man is awake enough to register that the pills are for him.

“Here you go!” Jimmy says, waving the prescription bag in front of him. Tango takes it from him and begins rummaging through it as Jimmy stands at the ready with a glass of ice water. “Drink up! Or, would swallow up work better in this context?”

Tango barks out a startled laugh before clapping his hand over his mouth to stifle the noise. Jimmy feels his face warm as he realizes the dirty connotations in his own words, but it seems like Tango’s getting a kick out of it, at the very least.

“Please never say that again,” Tango laughs out, sitting up so he can take the glass of water from Jimmy. He plops down beside Tango on the couch and uses the opportunity to remove his sneakers while Tango takes his meds.

“I got some soup while I was out,” Jimmy says after a moment. “I was thinking, I could draw you a bath and warm up some soup for lunch while you’re at it.” He gently nudges his shoulder against Tango’s, craving any semblance of closeness to him despite his illness.

Leaning into Jimmy, Tango buries his head in the crook of Jimmy’s neck. He gives a small dreamy sigh that Jimmy’s pretty certain is overdramatized as he slips his hand into Jimmy’s. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You deserve all this and more, Jimmy thinks. If I could snap my fingers and make you better I would, but for now I will settle for fighting your fever and making you tea.

He gets the bath going and sets out clean clothes for Tango in the meantime, and performs a quick tidy of their closet, which really only involves throwing the clothes from on the floor into the hamper. There is a half-filled basket of clean clothes from the other day that Tango has yet to fold, so he gets that done speedily and then begins heating up the soup for lunch. They’ve got a loaf of bread that is on the edge of its expiration date that he butters and adds some garlic salt to to compliment their soup, which is about when Tango finishes with his bath and emerges from the bathroom. His hair is damp and sticks to his face, but he looks a little more lively than before.

Tango hums along to the music Jimmy turned on for background noise while he cooked, and he begins gathering bowls and utensils for their lunch. Jimmy can’t help but watch from the sidelines as Tango pads around the kitchen gracefully, even as he turns away every so often to cough or sneeze into his elbow. But the sickness never really deters Jimmy, who has, in truth, always been captivated by Tango.

Wordlessly the two of them work in tandem to prepare their lunch, a well oiled machine that they’ve perfected after so many afternoons and nights spent in one another’s company. It’s at moments like these that Jimmy questions why he was ever worried about asking Tango to move in with him, when the truth of the matter is that they go perfectly together.

When their meal is ready, Tango compliments Jimmy’s choice of soup and they sit down to enjoy it. Jimmy tells Tango all about his adventure to the corner store and how Pearl and Gem assisted in his soup quest, and Tango eagerly listens the whole way. Jimmy’s noticed that when Tango is very focused on him or something he’s saying, he makes a certain facial expression, one that Jimmy just so happens to find very cute. Unfortunately for him, he’s not allowed to kiss Tango until he’s perfectly healthy to prevent Jimmy from getting sick as well, so he settles for simply relishing in the way Tango looks at him.

Halfway through their meal when conversation has lulled, Tango gently kicks Jimmy’s ankle underneath the table to get his attention and grins mischievously at him. “So I was thinking…” He begins, looking positively pleased with himself.

Jimmy raises his eyebrows playfully as he lifts a spoonful of soup to his mouth. “Mm. Dangerous.”

“Shut up!” Tango squawks, kicking Jimmy’s ankle more forcefully this time. Jimmy laughs, both at himself and Tango’s overdramatic reactions, which in turn gets Tango giggling too. He gains his composure after a few seconds and continues, “Okay, hear me out. You take a break from cleaning and running errands and just generally being amazing and watch a movie with me.” He grins at Jimmy with that insanely bright smile of his, the one that makes Jimmy want to just melt into him.

But the temptation of relaxing alongside his boyfriend brings with it an immense amount of guilt at not getting around to everything he wanted to today—there’s still groceries to be bought and door hinges to be oiled and plants to be watered and probably countless other things he hasn’t noticed that need his attention.

He worries at his bottom lip, setting down his utensils to be able to focus more. “I dunno, Tango. It feels like there’s still so much to be done.”

Tango rolls his eyes and leans back into his chair. “Oh, come on. You deserve some rest too!” He makes a big show of looking around the apartment and waving his arms around. “And, plus, you’ve already done so much! What’s the harm in a little movie-watch-ification?”

He does make a good point, Jimmy realizes: he’s gotten a lot done already, and it’s only noon. It couldn’t hurt to unwind for an hour or two, right?

Really, it was a losing battle for Jimmy from the very beginning, because A) Tango’s ideas are nine out of ten times good ones, and B) Jimmy’s always had a hard time saying no to Tango, especially when he smiles so radiantly at him.

So, with a big show of huffing and shaking his head, Jimmy effectively throws in the towel. “Fine,” he says, which immediately makes Tango’s eyes light up, “but only one movie!”

“Can I pick the movie?” Tango asks, standing up from his seat while collecting his dirty dishes. When Jimmy nods, Tango whoops as he makes a beeline for the sink, already going off about all the classics that Jimmy has embarrassingly never seen before their relationship.

Tango is in charge of setting up the movie as Jimmy washes up—for what is now the fourth time he’s washed the dishes this morning—so when he makes it to the living room with two water glasses in hand, the movie is ready and Tango is eager waiting for him with arms outstretched. Jimmy lowers himself onto the couch beside Tango and they slot into place as Tango starts up the movie. He manages to sneak in a quick kiss against Tango’s cheek as the opening credits begin to roll and then he’s finally able to settle, lulled by the sense of safety and security that comes with being close to Tango. Even though he feels like there’s still much to be done, he reminds himself that he’s done enough for now and should be allowed to enjoy some time with his sick boyfriend during their time off.

And even if Jimmy himself winds up sick at the end of it all from not being careful around Tango illness, he won’t regret having been there for his boyfriend when he needed him; Tango will be there to take care of him in return, Jimmy is sure.

They’re perfect for each other, in that way.

#trafficshipping #solidaritek #team rancher #rancher duo #fanfic #fic #my writing #mine #really proud of this one! hope you like <3

20 notes · View notes