(𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨) "i'm dying." damiano complains for the tenth time as you arrive at the hotel, his head on your lap, his feet on his brother's lap.

you look down at him amused, holding both your phones in a hand. "you're not. it's just the flu."

you're in the middle of his solo world tour, been to south america and now you're stopping in mexico, he hasn't stopped a day– show, flight, show, flight... he naturally got sick. and like every man, he's a baby when sick.

"stop being a crybaby." jacopo mutters scrolling through his phone, he's already checking the places to go eat in mexico city– he's just here for the tourism.

damiano gasps. "defend me." he tells you but then goes back to close his eyes, the flu always hits him hard.

once you're parked, you get out the van with him clung to you, while his staff and the hotel's carry your luggage, jacopo follows you two.

"i still wanna perform." damiano mutters, hiding in your neck from behind.

"you are not performing like this, silly." you immediately stop him, he's so stubborn and never wants to disappoint his fans, you walk inside the hotel.