Sick!England x Reader - Bath Talk

You were greeted with the gentle, faint aroma of tea and roses once you opened the door to your English friend’s house, his spare key clutched in your hand as you peered inside.

There was nothing out of the ordinary; as usual, Arthur’s house was kept in wonderful condition, with everything clean and not a speck of dust in sight. Closing the door behind you, you quickly locked it and put the key away before sighing.

Arthur had called you earlier, requesting that you come over. He was bedridden at the moment, and he absolutely refused to bring over Alfred to take care of him since last time the American had tried to place a hamburger on his head as a way of curing him.

It was funny, yes, but Arthur had informed you that he’d rather not have ‘that greasy morsel’ – you were quoting his words – on his forehead.

“Arthur?” you called out softly, quietly climbing the stairs so you wouldn’t disturb the ill Englishman.

There was a sneeze before a weak, somewhat nasal voice replied. “I-I’m in m-my room, poppet…”

Frowning slightly, you hurried upstairs and opened the door to his room, the sight making you feel rather bad for the poor man.

His mop of blonde hair was messy, some of it clinging to his sweat-covered face as Arthur took in ragged breaths. His nose and cheeks were pink from whatever sickness he’d caught as he nestled beneath the safety of probably three blankets, and there was a trashcan full of used tissues at the side of his bed.

“Oh, Artie…” With furrowed eyebrows and a look of concern glinting in your eyes, you sighed and stepped over to him. “You look awful.”

“I’ve come to realize that,” Arthur retorted flatly, small coughs punctuating his words as he reached for another tissue. “I believe I feel more awful than I look.”

You chuckled. “Why didn’t you call me sooner? It looks like you’ve been sick for a few days. I could’ve taken care of you, Artie.”

“I couldn’t possibly trouble a lady like you to take care of me,” Arthur muttered, “And I… I don’t like being seen like this, either.”

“Oh c’mon! I’ll always help you out, Artie. You should know that. We’re friends, aren’t we?” Your lips quirked up into a smile. “It’s not like it’s a bad thing either, seeing you like this. Are you worried you don’t look good?” you teased, a warm giggle slipping past your lips.

Since his cheeks were already red from being sick, you missed the faint blush that colored his face as Arthur turned his head to the side. It wasn’t that he was worried about looking good in general – he was simply worried about looking good in front of you.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me now,” you whined, having noticed that Arthur had turned his head away from you. “I was just kidding.”

“Wh-Whatever…” Arthur muttered. “Anyways, poppet, do you mind preparing me something to eat? It’s quite hard for me to get up and cook for myself, and I’m rather hungry… I don’t mean to be such a bother.”

“You’re never a bother.” Your words made his heart skip a beat. “I’ll go make some soup right now. You’ll feel better in no time, I promise!”

And with that, you stepped out his room and downstairs to the kitchen, a smile on your face as you got ready to take care of your sick friend.

Once he was sure you were out of earshot, however, Arthur sighed, a small smile of his own forming on his lips.

“I already feel better with you here, love,” he murmured affectionately, gazing absentmindedly at where you just stood.

---

With a tray in your hands that balanced a steaming bowl of soup, a glass of water, a couple of pills and a napkin and spoon, you carefully made your way towards Arthur’s room, careful not to spill as you used your foot to push open the door.

It didn’t take too long to make the soup and everything, seeing as you took maybe fifteen minutes before finishing. You’d tried to hurry so Arthur wouldn’t get impatient; after all, you didn’t want him to get even more annoyed considering that he was sick and stuck in bed.

“Special delivery~!” you chimed playfully as you stepped inside, placing the items on his nightstand before drawing up a chair so you could seat yourself at his bedside.

The scent of food made the Englishman visibly perk up as Arthur offered you a soft, tentative smile. “Thank you, poppet.”

“It’s not a problem at all.” The sweet smile you gave him in return made Arthur’s heart race. “Should I feed you, my itty-bitty-sicky-baby?” you cooed teasingly, forcing a scowl to touch your friend’s lips.

“Really, _____?” he sighed, though you watched as he averted his eyes. Arthur had to admit, having you feed him was a bit of a nice idea the more he thought about it – and there was no way, even with his pride, for him to let this chance go. “I-If it’s not a bother… c-could you feed me…? I’m afraid I’ll spill.”

You were pleasantly surprised at this, not expecting for Arthur to actually take you seriously – but the surprise soon melted into a few chuckles that fell from your lips. “Of course. Here.” Grabbing the thin handle of the spoon, you brought a spoonful of the soup to your mouth, blowing on it lightly before placing it in front of Arthur’s lips. “Open up the tunnel, choo choo~!”

“R-Really, _____...” Furrowing his eyebrows in embarrassment, Arthur complied nonetheless as he obediently opened his mouth, swallowing the soup with a content sigh.

“So?” you asked once he tasted it, “Is it good?”

“It’s lovely,” he said, watching as your expression grew brighter at his compliment.

But not as lovely as you.

---

After feeding him and giving him the pills, Arthur soon became drowsy due to the side-effects, and before you knew it he was out like a light bulb. Having left his room so he could sleep properly, you soon found yourself lazily exploring the Englishman’s house, glancing at things here and there but willing yourself not to pry into his items.

You probably spent half an hour walking aimlessly through his halls before you decided you might as well draw a bath for Arthur; surely the hot water and steam would help chase off his sickness?

Skipping up his stairs and into the bathroom, you couldn’t help but admire it. His bathroom was well-designed, just like the rest of his house; how he afforded it, you never knew. Whatever the case, you began your task of drawing a hot bath, adding some bath oil Arthur had for fragrance.

No sooner had you finished did you hear Arthur call out for you, and hastily scrambling to his room, you poked your head in. “Yes?”

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice groggy from sleep. “Agh, I have a bloody headache…”

“I drew you a bath,” you said with a smile. “You woke up at just the right time. Do you need help getting to the bathroom or do you think you can tackle the task yourself, big guy?”

“…I…” he paused before averting his gaze in embarrassment. “I’ll… probably need help. Being sick is bloody awful… my body aches.”

“You got it, Artie.”

“Wait.” Before you could step over, Arthur quickly stopped you. Looking at him questioningly, you couldn’t help but smile in amusement at how shy he looked.

Although… you probably looked just as red in the face when he asked his next question.

“C-Can you… get my swimming trunks for me, poppet? I m-might need help… bathing…”

---

An embarrassed Arthur, a pair of swim trunks and ten minutes later, you found yourself sitting beside the bathtub in which Arthur was soaking in, a bottle of shampoo in your hand as you squeezed the pleasant-smelling substance onto the palm of your hand.

“Close your eyes, Artie,” you said, carefully placing your hands onto his hair before rubbing the shampoo into it. “I don’t want to get shampoo into your eyes.”

A content hum was all that answered you as you massaged the product into his hair, occasionally using the chance to make his hair stick up in funny angles. Arthur had lent you a pair of shorts and a shirt in case you got your clothes wet, so you weren’t too bothered when drops of water hit yours – or, technically, Arthur’s – clothing.

Once the shampoo was done, you took the small bucket and rinsed his hair with water, laughing when Arthur accidentally got it in his mouth and had to cough it out. “I feel like I’m bathing a little kid,” you mentioned, earning a scowl from Arthur as he opened his eyes to give you a pointed look.

“Be quiet, poppet.”

“Yes sir~”

The next step was to wash his body, but you were slightly uncomfortable to do so.

Not that you didn’t want to, no.

Honestly, your fingers kinda itched to touch his body, but…

It was weird.

After all… what if he didn’t want you to?

But he did ask you to help him bathe…

Arthur took notice of your sudden thinking session, seeing as you’d gone quiet for some reason out of the blue. “Love?” he asked, hoping to catch your attention.

His attempt was successful as you looked at him. “H-Huh? A-Ah, sorry. I got lost in thought for a bit.” Standing up from the stool you used to sit on, you sighed before turning away. “Y-You can wash your body yourself, right? I’ll just wait outside.”

You barely made it one step before you heard the water sloshing around, and before you knew it, a hand dripping with water grabbed yours and gave you a strong tug back towards the bathtub.

Arthur must’ve miscalculated his strength, however, as you ended up stumbling backwards, but before you could fall and hurt yourself, he pulled you towards him and into the tub.

Honestly, you barely had time to react, and as soon as you regained your senses you found yourself with your back pressed tightly against Arthur’s, the sweet smell of the bath water surround you as you sat drenched in the tub.

“A-Artie!?” you gasped, fidgeting once you noticed his arms that were wound around your waist. “L-Let me go, I’m all wet–”

“…Don’t go,” he muttered stubbornly, his breath hitting your ear and making you shiver. “I want you to stay, poppet.”

The words colored your cheeks a faint pink as you bit your lip. “B-But you need to wash up–”

“Th-Then do it for me,” Arthur retorted stubbornly, turning his head away from yours even though you weren’t facing him. “S-Since we’re so close now, it sh-should be easier, right?”

In spite of the situation, you smiled, something Arthur couldn’t see due to his position.

“…Right.”

---

The atmosphere was rather quiet at the moment, given the situation you two were in. After the whole ‘Arthur pulling you into the tub’ thing, you ended up turning around and making him face the other way so you could begin on his back. Honestly, the scenario was a bit strange, with both you and Arthur casually sitting in the tub with you in a pair of Arthur’s clothes and him in his swim trunks; but nonetheless, you were okay with it.

Well, sorta.

You kinda liked Arthur.

And being this close to him, and in a bathtub no less, was, well…

frustrating, perhaps?

Sighing, you washed his back gently before his voice broke the silence that had fallen over you both.

“Poppet?”

You hummed in response.

“S-Sorry for… causing so much trouble.”

You chuckled softly as you gently tugged on his arm, an indication for him to turn around so you could begin on his front side. “I never said you were causing trouble, Artie.”

“B-But I made you come and take c-care of me, a-and… this…” Arthur’s voice grew uneasy as he found himself unable to look at you while you so casually began to wash his chest. “It’s… it’s not something a gentleman does, poppet. I’m truly sorry.”

You stopped and sighed, looking at Arthur with a pout. “Really, Artie,” you muttered, “Could you be even more dense?”

“H-Huh?”

“I don’t do this with other people,” you commented nonchalantly, resuming your task of washing him with the cloth. “If Alfred pulled me into a tub, I’d have slapped him and left. But with you… y’know, Arthur, I really like you.”

He obviously wasn’t expecting your words as Arthur simply sat there, frozen in place while you sighed. Maybe he didn’t like you the same way you liked him? Placing the cloth onto the rim of the tub and beginning to stand up, you shot him a weary smile. “Sorry. That was a bit too much, huh? I should-”

You stopped when Arthur reached up, grabbing your wrist and stopping you from leaving.

“L-Like I said,” he mumbled, still unable to meet your gaze, “I... want you to stay, poppet.”

---

After your impromptu confession towards the blonde-haired Englishman, neither you nor he dared to speak. You were okay with it, however, as you finished up on washing him and helped him out of the tub, giving Arthur a towel to dry off while you used a spare room to change into your dry clothes.

Once that was done, you checked up on Arthur to see that he’d already dressed himself, and offering him a smile, you waved. “It’s getting late,” you murmured. “I should really get going. Thanks for letting me take care of you, Artie.”

“Thank you for taking care of me in the first place, poppet,” Arthur muttered. “I’ll show you to the door.”

By the time you stood at his doorway, Arthur still refused to meet your gaze as you opened the door and stepped out, the once blue sky having faded into a charming shade of pink.

“Well…” you said quietly, offering him one last smile, “I guess I’ll- mmph!”

Your words died down in your throat when a soft pair of lips closed over your own, the scent of the bath oil you’d used earlier filling your nose as you froze in shock. Arthur’s bright green eyes remained open, studying your face for any signs of a bad reaction until your eyelids fluttered shut, and soon enough, so did his.

It was a fairly short kiss, but honestly, it felt longer than the mere seconds that it truly lasted. You kissed him back gingerly, relishing in the sensation as you could feel heat crawl up to your cheeks. With the close proximity of your faces, you were fairly sure Arthur could practically feel your blush.

Your lips parted slowly, but you guys didn’t pull away too far; instead, Arthur rested his forehead against yours, his cheeks coated with a rosy hue as he finally looked at you.

“…I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time,” Arthur breathed, “And I hope it wasn’t too ungentlemanly for such a lady like you, _____. I do apologize if it was.”

Your only response was a light giggle as you leaned in, your lips pressing a quick kiss onto his nose before you pulled back. “I’m glad you acted on your desires,” you said fondly, “Because I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time too.”

Watching as Arthur’s lips curved up into the sweetest smile you’d ever seen, you couldn’t help but feel your heart soar at the sight. “Thank you for taking care of me, love,” he whispered, reaching down to grasp your hand and place a soft kiss against your knuckles.

You smiled at the gentle act before stepping away, giving him one last wave before you turned and began to walk. “It’s no problem,” you chuckled, “Taking care of you is something I like to do. Call me when you need help, yeah?”

“Of course, love.”

Satisfied with his response, you began your walk home, but you didn’t make it far when you heard Arthur call your name.

“_-_____?”

You turned.

“Yeah?”

Despite how ill he might’ve felt, Arthur couldn’t fight back his bashful smile.

“I love you, _____.”

Your heart fluttered.

“I love you too, Arthur.”