New Fic: Bearly Symptomatic

[jackwabbit]

Bearly Symptomatic

Fandom: Star Trek Discovery
Rated: G
Category: Culmets. RickyVerse (Bearly). Fluff. Banter. SickFic (Mild).
Word Count: 453
Time Frame: Any.
Spoilers: General series knowledge only.
Summary: To those who didn’t know Paul, his behavior might come as a surprise. To Hugh, it was as expected as the breathing.
Note: Another Ricky story, because there’s a goal. Written for the random word prompt of “career.”

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Paul ended the call with an order, delivered in his usual acerbic tone with just a touch of the Stamets stare for good measure. The ensign on the other end nodded, mumbled a “yes,sir,” then disconnected, and Hugh chuckled.

“What?”

Hugh shook his head slightly.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“Scaring that poor kid like that.”

“I wasn’t scary.”

Hugh didn’t say anything, but the disbelieving look he gave Paul was answer enough.

Paul sighed. “Alright. Fine. Maybe I was a little blunt with him.”

“A little?” asked Hugh, raising his brows.

“He’ll live,” said Paul, waving away Hugh’s remark. “Now, do you want your soup or not?”

Hugh chuckled again.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay. Then stop giving me a hard time and open up.”

Hugh did as he was told, and Paul fed him a spoonful of hot soup, as gently as if he were a baby.

“Hmmmm. That’s good,” said Hugh.

“Of course it’s good. It’s the same one I always make for you when you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick.”

Now it was Paul’s turn for disbelief.

“Right. That’s why Tracy ordered you out of sickbay and you’ve got three blankets piled on you and you’re snuggling with your teddy bear.”

“Not my fault you wouldn’t snuggle with me.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

“I’m barely symptomatic. That’s why Tracy just sent me home instead of treating me with antivirals.”

“I don’t care. You’re sick. And you’re going to stay right there with Ricky while I take care of you today. Soup included,” said Paul, waving the spoon as if it were a magic wand.

Hugh gave a mock salute and echoed the ensign from earlier.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m glad we have an understanding,” said Paul, nodding.

“Absolutely,” agreed Hugh, opening up for another mouthful of soup.

A while later, stomach full of the famous Stamets chicken soup, Hugh was drifting off to sleep when he chuckled again. Only Ricky heard him, but that was okay.

Because other than perhaps Tracy, no one on Discovery would have believed what had made him laugh anyway. Paul Stamets, astromycologist extraordinaire and scourge of ensigns everywhere, was one of the best nurses Hugh had ever had the pleasure of working with.

At least when the patient was one Hugh Culber, at any rate.

Which, surprising as it would have been to those who didn’t know Paul, was just fine as far as Hugh was concerned.

After all, Hugh had made a career of caring for people, often neglecting himself in the process.

So even though he really wasn’t that sick, he didn’t mind someone taking care of him for a change.

Good thing Paul Stamets, who never did anything halfway, was more than equal to the task.