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Luca knew he was in trouble the second he sniffled.

Not because of the impending cold, but because Damien's ears practically perked up like a bloodhound catching a scent.

"Was that a sniffle?" Damien asked, snapping his book shut dramatically.

Luca froze. "What? No."

Damien stood up, moving so quickly it was almost like he teleported. Before Luca could even think about running, a hand was on his forehead.

"You are warm," Damien said, voice dark and full of self-importance. "My love, you're sick."

Luca tried to swat his hand away. "I'm fine, just—"

"Boys." Damien turned to the ever-present looming minions. "Lock the doors. No one leaves until my beloved is cured."

"Oh my God." Luca groaned. "I'm not sick."

"You sneezed. That's enough. ALDO! SUMMON THE DOCTOR."

Within ten minutes, Luca was wrapped in a mountain of expensive blankets on the couch while a personal doctor checked his temperature.

"I don't need—"

"Shh," Damien said, pressing a finger to Luca's lips. "Rest your vocal cords, darling. I'll communicate with you via love letters."

"God help me."

Luca didn't even get a chance to protest before Damien rushed off to commission the most expensive, most nourishing soup in the entire city. He also called a tailor to measure him for a "special recovery robe" (which was, in fact, just a custom-embroidered cashmere monstrosity that read Luca, My Beloved).

The minions? Trapped inside, now forced to act as medical assistants. One poor soul was tasked with feeding Luca while another had to make sure the temperature in the room remained exactly to Damien's liking.

Of course, by the time the doctor arrived, Luca's sniffle was gone.

"Well," the doctor said hesitantly, staring at Luca, who sat perfectly healthy and glaring at Damien. "It seems... he is fine."

Damien gasped, offended. "Impossible. He sneezed."

"...Yes, I believe that was due to—"

"Sneezes are dangerous. One moment you're fine, and the next, you're bedridden with a life-threatening illness. You wouldn't understand. You don't love him like I do."

Luca threw a pillow at his face. "I HATE YOU."

Damien, dodging effortlessly, grinned. "No you don't."

Luca absolutely did.

And that was exactly why, the next day, Luca spent the entire morning making Damien think he was sick. By evening, Damien was frantically summoning every medical expert in the city for himself, convinced he had caught Luca's deadly, terrifying disease.

Needless to say, Luca didn't correct him. Sweet, sweet revenge.

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