Bossuet comes into the wineshop, a paper hat folded from a newspaper covering his bald head. "Joly! How is our sweet Mamselle?"
Joly coughs into a handkerchief as he leans over a table, all sickly... as usual, "Ahh... Musichetta... apologize to her, for me... I had to leave her side rather hastily this morning... I'm not at all well, and I didn't want her to catch it from me..."
Bossuet says, "Chowder, bring Monsieur le Doctor a good glass of brandy." He turns, smiling, to Joly. "I shall apologize to her, but we need to get this cough out of you. How can you learn to heal people if you're so sick yourself?" He hands over the glass. "Drink."
Joly shakes his head as he takes the drink gratefully. "God knows... Perhaps this glass of Brandy is the miracle cure I've been searching for..." he drinks it swiftly. "Ohh... I don't think so..."
Bossuet thumps Joly on the back. "You're not supposed to drink it all at once, man. Haven't you learned anything from Grantaire?"
Joly coughs at the thumping and something very unpleasant looking lands on the table.
Bossuet frowns. "You're not usually so sick. What did you do to yourself? D'you want something else to drink, maybe? Or to visit the pharmacist?"
Joly thinks, "Ahh... I knew I was doing myself in, when I came out of the house with my hair still damp... Or perhaps Musichetta and I have recently, inadvertently pushed my bed out of position, and the earth's poles are pulling on my poor fluids wrongly... I shall re-align it tonight..."
Joly says, "For now, yes, I think another drink will help. Split the cost of a bottle?"
Bossuet says, "With you sick? I wouldn't make you pay." He has a few words with Fricassee and she comes back with a bottle.
Joly smiles lightly, "Why, thank you, Bossuet." he gets a mildly pained look as he swallows and his throat aches.
Bossuet frowns again. "Did you sleep last night?"
Joly smiles wider, remembering, "Not much..."
Bossuet tries to look disapproving, but smiles sympathetically. "Tonight, you must sleep. You being so ill, staying up all the night isn't good."
Joly nods, "As you say..." and he adds with a wink and a smile, "It's your turn, anyhow."
Bossuet drinks wine to cover his dismay, then says, "No, I wouldn't, not with you sick."
Joly rests a frail hand on Bossuet's. "I ins *cough hack* ist..." he smiles, "She tells me she misses you..."
Bossuet looks at Joly. "And I miss you." He kisses his sickly friend on the forehead. "I want you to feel better."
Joly blushes a little, his pale cheeks almost looking human a second... "You always know just how to make me do just that..."
Bossuet puts an arm around Joly's shoulders. "I hope so. Will you sleep tonight?"
Joly smiles, "I promise." he declares.
Bossuet says, "I will be there to make sure you keep that promise."
Joly coughs lightly, "Even better..."
Bossuet says, "More wine?"
Joly says, "Please."
Bossuet pours another cup and holds it to Joly's lips, smiling. "Drink."
Joly drinks obediently, holding back a chuckle at Bossuet's mothering him, because if he doesn't hold it in, there'd be wine all over...
...And they'd just have to go home and take off their wet clothes... wouldn't that be a shame?
Bossuet says, "We should drink up and get you into bed."
Nice warm bed with plenty of bodyheat.
Joly smiles, and nods gently, then pushing his chin forward to down the end of the cup.
Bossuet gives Joly more wine.
Joly begins to not notice the pain in his throat any more. He feels warm and nice.
Bossuet drinks some of the wine himself, from the other side of the cup.
Joly leans back and uses his handkerchief to gently dab the excess wine from his lips... he sighs gently, "Who's at home?" he asks quietly.
Bossuet says, "I'm not sure. 'chetta, probably. None of our friends would come to call, they have classes tomorrow."
Joly yawns a bit, "All right... I guess I can apologize to her myself, are we about to head out?"
Bossuet says, "Are you?"
Joly smiles, "Only if you are..."
Bossuet says, "No, no, that's what I was saying. You're the one who's sick."
Joly blinks a bit as the words do not follow. "Hm." he articulates.
Bossuet says, "When you leave, I leave."
Joly mmms in understanding as he leans over and rests his head on Bossuet's shoulder. "Well, that's just no good for either of us... I am completely overcome by inertia."
Bossuet gently pushes Joly's hair back from his forehead. "You'd sleep better leaning on me in bed."
Joly yawns, "D'accord. Though I don't think I shall ever stand to go, without your setting the precedent."
Bossuet puts an arm under Joly's to help lift him to his feet. "Then let us go."
Bossuet stands, carefully.
Joly comes along quite willingly, only slightly leaning on Bossuet. "Mmm." he states.
Bossuet says, "Are we ready to go, mon ami?"
Joly agrees, "Ready."
Bossuet walks out the door, not relinquishing his hold on Joly, and indeed, keeping his arms around the other man even though they might not be necessary.
Joly does not object to being held so. He walks, showing he has quite the ability to, but he speaks nothing of it.