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Mordred says that Lev is supposed to go off his medications and tell Mordred if he's not feeling well and needs to taper down more slowly.
Obviously, the thing this means is that Lev is supposed to taper down as quickly as possible and hide the tremors and headaches and sweating and light hypersensitivity from Mordred so that he isn't upset by them.
Lev manages to do this for almost two days.
Lev sighs contentedly and then says, "I feel like I want to throw up."
Arrrrggghhhh.
Mordred arranges him so that he can access the bucket and also can't stand up without Mordred stopping him.
"Do you know where my rouge is? I don't know where it is. And I can't afford to buy more."
"Okay, good. I'll need it for my date. He wouldn't like it if I looked like a normal man."
A tremor moves through Lev's entire body. "You're a good friend. How are your dates going?"
"Oh." He looks sad. "Maybe I can introduce you to my sailor? He's-- good at all the things normal men are supposed to be good at-- but he's really nice. He doesn't talk very much. He likes listening to me talk about books."
"I'm doing alright I think. I'm glad you have your sailor though. He sounds nice."
Casual sex as a queer sounds terrifying and he does not understand it.
Lev throws up all the contents of his stomach into the bucket which, since he hasn't been eating, are mostly stomach acid.
...Lev should probably eat something.
"I have a thermos of soup, do you think you can try to eat it--"
"I can try? Maybe I should wait until this stomach flu is over. I have lots of flab anyway."
You're emaciated, Mordred doesn't say.
He helps Lev sit up, takes the thermos, pours some of it into a bowl, and gives the bowl and a spoon to Lev.
Lev's hands are shaking so much that he spills the soup on himself the first three times he tries to scoop some out.
...Mordred takes the spoon and feeds him.
It feels uncomfortably intimate.
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