Chapter Text
“C’mon, babe, I’m dying here!” Gladio whined, sniffling as he laid on the couch huddled under blankets.
He had gotten sick a few days before, but he felt more and more gods-awful as the days went by. He was cold, he was hungry, and he was miserable . To top it all off? Ignis was refusing to come and visit.
“I’m not the one who decided to go camping in the dead middle of winter,” came Ignis’ voice from the other end of the phone.
“I told you, it was wilderness training!”
“Ah yes, ‘wilderness training.’ Tell me, since when does Noctis go out of the city even to fish in the cold months?”
Gladio had no answer to that. Ignis wasn’t wrong; it was hard to get the sleepy prince to do just about anything outside of his normal work or training hours. I should really get him to learn survival in winter, at least… the Shield thought to himself briefly before his mind turned back to the conversation at hand.
“At least come and cook for me!” he said. “You go and pamper Noct when he has even the slightest sniffle, but when I have even the lowest-grade fever you stay away.”
“I also don’t live with Noctis,” Ignis pointed out. “The last thing he needs is to have both his Shield and Advisor to be sick at once and burn down his entire residence.”
“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Gladio scoffed. “He’s not that bad at cooking, he just spaces out and makes food inedible.”
Silence. Always a good sound to know he struck a nerve.
“At least tell me how to make something,” Gladio whined, a last-ditch effort to persuade his boyfriend. “I want a last meal before I get taken by the Astrals to the afterlife.”
“For the last damned time, you’re not dying, nor are you at death’s door,” Ignis said exasperatedly, pairing it with a sigh. “Fine, I’ll explain how to make that chicken soup you love. Does that sound amiable enough for you?”
“I dunno, Iggy, you tend to make complicated stuff…”
“Rest assured, this rendition has proven easy enough that even our dear Noctis has made it, though after the first time he’s conveniently misplaced his slow cooker each time afterwards.”
Now that was surprising to hear. Something so easy, even the princess could make it? Color me curious… Gladio couldn’t help but think, wanting to know more.
“Alright, then,” Gladio said, sitting up from under the covers, “hit me with it. What do I gotta do?”
Ignis ran him through the step-by-step process, from chopping the veggies to just how much broth or stock he needed. By the time Gladio was done, the slow cooker was sitting on low and the lid was firmly in place.
“The important part is to remember to stir it. You don’t want things to burn at the bottom.”
“I feel like you’re leaving out steps,” Gladio admitted warily, retreating to huddle beneath the blankets. “You sure I don’t need to sauté something or do some sort of fancy cut for the chickatrice breasts?”
“So long as you followed my instructions exactly, the most you will need to do is shred or cut the meat just before I leave work,” Ignis assured. “Ah yes, councilman, give me just a moment and I’ll be with you. Please, have a seat.”
“Sounds like you’re about to be busy.”
“When am I not? I’ll call later to make sure you haven’t burned anything.”
With that, the phone hung up. Gladio sighed. He knew Ignis had a point in staying away, but all he wanted was his incredibly hot and skilled boyfriend to make him something and then cuddle under the covers until his cold went away. He spent the next handful of hours in and out of sleep, Ignis calling to check on him. Hours later, Gladio rolled off the couch to Ignis’ ringtone, scrambling to answer.
“Hey,” he said, voice thick with sleep.
“I nearly forgot to make sure you added spices,” Ignis said, causing Gladio to snort with laughter before it ended in a coughing fit.
“You? Forget? Since when do you forget anything?” he teased, once the coughs had subsided.
“I could leave you to your own devices and allow you to make a sad imitation of my own recipe,” Ignis threatened, deadpan.
“No, no! Please babe, I’m sorry, c’mon─”
“I presume you didn’t add any spices yet, then.”
“Not really?”
“Then the first thing you should add is cumin─”
“What’s come-in ?” Gladio asked, staring at the array of spices Ignis had recently bought.
“Cumin,” Ignis repeated. “When you read it, I expect you to laugh like Noctis or Prompto did the first time I asked them to pick some up while at the store without me.”
Gladio untangled himself from the blankets, plopping them back on the couch to begin his search for cumin, chortling with yet more laughter once it was in his hand.
“You’ve found it, then. Sprinkle in about a half teaspoon and then let it simmer on low for a while longer. I’ll call back when you need to continue.”
“You said this is supposed to be easy,” Gladio pointed out as he added the spice.
“It’s far easier, especially seeing as I’m not instructing you to hand-make pasta or stock.”
“You don’t do that every time and I know it.” Gladio scoffed, stirring the soup before he placed the lid back and put away the spice.
“That is besides the point,” Ignis replied. “Feel free to add a dash or two of the Vesperpool Creole seasoning I bought recently. I’ve found it adds character alongside the garlic and onion powders.”
Gladio rifled through the spice rack again, finding everything Ignis had mentioned before throwing some of it in as well. The soup was already smelling amazing, filling the apartment with the aroma of what could only be described as home . It brought forward memories of being a kid. He remembered being gathered into his mother’s arms, sitting on her lap as she hummed lullabies… How long ago was that now?
“How do you come up with this stuff, Igs?”
“It’s an old recipe your father gave me, actually,” Ignis admitted, amusement coloring his voice. “I just made a few alterations. I’ll have to call you back when I’m off work. Until then, there’s not much left to do.”
They exchanged loving farewells before hanging up. Gladio made his way back to the couch, grabbing his favorite book and delving into its pages. Before long, he was asleep again, snoring loudly. Time passed quickly as he snoozed, waking up to the sound of movement in the kitchen. Mild alarm ran through him before he caught sight of Ignis in a cooking apron.
“Thought you didn’t wanna get sick?” Gladio asked, watching Ignis move around as he sat up.
“I thought I would surprise you by coming by to check on you personally,” Ignis said coolly. “I can easily leave.”
“I’m glad you came.”
“As am I, seeing as you have yet to cut the chickatrice at all.”
The sound of a knife against wood sounded out as he made his way to the kitchen, watching Ignis dice the meat into chunks, letting out a satisfied hum when he saw the meat was fully cooked, before sliding it back into the soup as he stirred carefully so that nothing spilled.
“This should manage to keep you fed for at least a day or two,” Ignis said, moving to stand in front of Gladio with a raised brow. “If I could get a couple of bowls?”
Gladio scooted to the side, excited to see how everything turned out and hoping it was as good as what Ignis typically made.
It wasn’t.
He managed to get close, but there was something about how Ignis cooked that always made everything taste so much better. Whatever the bespectacled man’s secret was, his lips were shut tight. Gladio was fine with that, so long as the food didn’t stop coming. He smiled as Ignis sat on the couch with him, even staying for the night, rather than going back to Noctis’ apartment like he’d been doing prior. As Gladio closed his eyes for the night, he had a smile on his face as he knew he’d see Ignis as soon as he woke…
~*~Two Days Later~*~
Ignis grumbled as Gladio pulled the thermometer from his mouth, the behemoth snorting as he showed that Ignis had a fever.
“No work for you today, Iggy,” he said with an amused grin.
“This is your fault,” Ignis accused, pulling the blankets closer to himself.
“Yeah, can’t deny that,” Gladio agreed with a chuckle. “Hey, at least I can make that soup again. How’s that sound?”