Stepping through the apartment door, you hang up your coat and bag.

"Leon, I'm home!" Your wolf ears twitch, searching for any kind of sound of him in the apartment. You knew he wasn't feeling well after he left during his lunch break at the station. Being his sergeant, he reported to you before leaving, looking sweaty and pale as he left.

"Leon?" You hear a whimper from the bedroom, ears pinned to your head. You instinctively go to your waistband but out of uniform you have nothing to protect yourself with.

Slowly approaching the door, you push it open and see your boyfriend curled up under the blankets of your California king-size bed. A washcloth covered his eyes in the dim lighting of the room.

"Aw, honey..." Walking over, you sit on the edge of the bed, taking his hand as he turns on his side, curling up to you immediately.

"I have a migraine, my body hurts, and I'm cold but sweating..."

"You have the flu." You guess, watching him move the washcloth from his eyes. He looks so exhausted. "You want soup?"

"Cuddle me?" His eyes go big, pleading with you for affection. He's always such a baby, especially when he's sick.