In Sickness and In Health
A Mrs. Evans story
*a Chris Evans fan fic*
A future Chris Evans takes care of his sick wife
Warnings: Language, Fluff
Word count: 1201
This Mrs. Evans story is told from Chris’s point of view, a change from other stories in the series.
Standing in the door way, he watches her stumble across the room, her sleep mask still down over her eyes. He can see the flush on her skin. A fever rising that has nothing to do with him. “Just where do you think you’re going?”
She literally jumps before her hand flies up to pull off the mask and she wheezes, “Jesus fuckin’-” cough, cough, cough- “Christ! Chris! You scared me!” -cough, cough, cough- “What are you doing here?” She holds her hands to her chest and clears her throat, obviously in pain.
“What do you think I’m doing? Get back in bed. I came home to take care of my wife.” He crosses the room and sits tentatively on the end of the bed. Setting the paper sack in his hand next to him, he grabs her arm and gently pulls her to him.
She rolls her eyes at him. “Fuck that. I’m dying. I’m not having sex with you,” she laughs between coughs.
“Jesus, is that all I am to you, a fuck toy?” He smiles. “I don’t wanna have sex with you. You smell like Vicks and throat spray.” He wraps his hands around her and caresses the back of her thighs, resting his face against her belly. He tries not to inhale too deeply because his statement was no lie. But he can’t keep his hands off her in her tight tank top and short shorts that barely hold in her ass cheeks. He’s missed her. He’s missed this.
She bends and kisses the top of his head, tugging on the long straggly ends on the nape of his neck. “Seriously,” she whispers trying to catch her breath. “I wasn’t expecting you for another two weeks. Why are you here?”
“I turned it over to Mackie. There’s a reason I have an assistant director I can depend on. When I heard in your voice last night how sick you really were, I made arrangements to get home as quick as possible. I’ve been transferring planes for the last 8 hours. I stocked up on supplies; here, sit.” He turns her around slowly and spreads his legs so she can rest on his thigh. Wrapping one arm around her to hold her in place, he forages through the bag on the bed, showing her things he brought. “I just called it in; the doc said since the kids were sick last week, you probably had it now too, so here’s a Z-pak.” He tosses it on the bed. “The cough drops you like; more throat spray; more Vicks.” With each item, he just throws it on the bed behind him. “Aspirin, gum, condoms,” he wiggles his eyebrow at her, “and the piece de résistance,” Chris mocks with a french accent, “mashed potatoes.”
Her eyes well with tears. “You did all this for me?” She takes the small styrofoam container from his hands.
“I did. I even remembered to bring a spork.” He pulls the plastic wrapped serving spoon from his back pocket. He hands it to her, but she doesn’t open it yet.
“Won’t that cut back production on the movie; cost you more money?” Her voice is choked as she fights back her tears and tries to hold in another coughing fit.
“Fuck the movie. It’s just a job. You’re what’s important; you and the kids. You know that.” His hands sweep across her face and tucks back her unruly hair before wiping away the tears. “We’re a team. This doesn’t work if you’re sick. You keep it all spinning when I’m away. I gotta take care of you, so you can take care of everything else.”
She can’t hold her tears in any longer and wraps her arms around his neck, finally letting loose all her stress and frustrations in the tears she cries. “Oh, babe, I’m so glad you’re home. I love you so much. I didn’t know I needed this,” she whispers, coughing again, her breath warm on his neck.
He rubs her back, giving the occasional pat, “It’s okay, baby, I’m here now. Everything’s gonna be good; let it all out.”
She cries for another moment or two before the coughing overtakes her. She pulls back and hands him the food and runs to the bathroom. He chuckles when he hears her blowing her nose. “Ugh,” she whines. “I look like shit. I haven’t seen you in three weeks and this is what you get.” Her voice echoes against the tiles and she shuffles back into the bedroom, falling face first on the bed. Lifting her head she eyes the clock on the nightstand. “Oh, shit,” she sneezes loud enough to wake the dead. And again. And again before laughing. “Ah, fuck, I’m a mess. Honey, can you go get the kids?”
Chris pushes all the items from the store onto the floor and crawls up on his knees beside her and begins to massage her back. Pushing his palms into her he rotates down her spine in small circular patterns and she quietly moans her approval. “You still aren’t getting any… the kids, Chris, someone has to get the kids from school? And Princess has da-”
Leaning forward, he kisses the back of her thigh gently. “Shhh… I already took care of that too.” His hands continue their masterful work and he slowly feels the tension leaving her body. “Your mom is getting the kids and they’re all going to stay at that hotel with the indoor waterpark. Uncle Scott and your sister and kids are going to join them tomorrow to keep everyone entertained until you get better.”
She lifts her weary head to look at him, her eyes slightly hazed from a fever. “You’re fuckin’ amazing. You think of everything… I’m still not having sex with you.”
He chuckles. “Maybe when you feel better I can stay an extra day or two, and you can thank me appropriately then.” His hands knead down her thighs and she involuntarily parts her legs for him. He smiles and shakes his head. “‘Cause I think you need it as badly as I do.” His hand slides under her and he pushes against her hot covered mound. She sighs happily and he smiles to himself.
“Besides, the idea of the numbness caused by the throat spray in your mouth on my cock actually terrifies me. No thank you; stay away from me.” His hands brush between her thighs and goosebumps form on her heated flesh.
She softly chuckles and shakes her head. “Words I never thought I’d hear you say… Thank you honey; knowing you dropped everything for me means so much.”
“You’re my girl; my world. I gotta take care of you. The rest of it would all fall to shit without you.”
He continues rubbing her back and massaging her legs and feet until her quiet wheezes turn to soft snores. He kisses her cheek tenderly and exits the room thinking on the chores he should begin to make her transition back to health easier. He decides to start with the pile of laundry outside the boys’ room. Anything he can do to make his wife happy… That’s his number one job.
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