I really should update Raising Tony.

But oneshots are soooo much fuuuuuun.

Enjoy!

Ralph had it all planned out: breakfast in bed, romantic walk in the park, dinner date at an expensive French restaurant, then cuddling on the couch and watching sappy chick flicks.

What actually happened: Ralph waking up to an empty bed. This confused and worried the blonde greatly. Nothing happened to make Roger leave, right? Of course! Ralph chuckled at his own foolishness and got out of bed to find his disappearing boyfriend.

Bedroom?

Nope.

Living Room?

Nada.

Kitchen?

Thank heavens, no.

That left one place: bathroom. Ralph slowly opened the door… To find Roger curled up on the floor, looking absolutely awful.

"G'way…" the brunette croaked giving Ralph a weak hand flap. His hair stuck up in odd places and his complexion was a sickly pale green. Ralph did not leave, because that would make him an awful boyfriend and it was Valentine's Day after all. He propped the sick Roger against the bathtub and proceeded to wash his face.

"Geez Rog, I guess it's true that V-day makes the cold-hearted sick," Ralph joked, trying to lighten the mood. Roger gave him a weak glare that was cut short by coughing. He let out a whine of pain, clinging onto Ralph for support. The blonde bit his lip hard to keep from smiling. Seeing Roger so submissive and clingy was rare, and much enjoyed by Ralph. He stuck the thermometer in Roger's mouth then scooped him up into his arms and carried him to the bed. It was so much more comfortable than the vomit smelling bathroom floor.

Ralph gently took out the thermometer. Thirty nine degrees.* Maybe his fever would melt his frozen heart. Ralph chuckled and kissed his forehead, and snuggled next to him. "Happy Valentine's Day~" he cooed.

"Eff you."

Simon knew that Jack wasn't the most romantic person. He didn't make over the top gestures like Ralph, or home-made from the heart gifts like Maurice. But he spent the week leading up to the day dropping hints at what he wanted.

So why did he wake up to nothing?

He woke up to a calm bedroom; flowerless and cardless, much to his disappointment. He walked downstairs hoping to find something amazing like Jack on a white pony with roses and cherubs and ride off onto a rainbow where they would-

"Morning Sweetie."

Simon was yanked out of his very pleasurable daydream by a familiar voice. Jack was sitting at the counter like he always did, drinking a cup of coffee like he always did. Dangit.

"Morning Jack!" he chirped happily, kissing the redhead's cheek, making him blush, like always. "Today's a great day, huh?"

"Sure," was Jack's most disappointing reply. Simon deflated a tad. Did he not remember…? Of course he did! He was being silly! Jack would pretend like he didn't remember, then surprise him with something sweet, sweep him off his feet and then they would-

"If you don't hurry, you'll be late for school," Jack reminded him. Simon sighed as he as interrupted yet again. He blamed it on high school, for having it be a school day. Then he perked up.

"It's snowing. Classes aren't today," he sang, sliding onto Jack's lap, oh so subtly batting his eyelids. Jack frowned just slightly and reached up to Simon's face… to rub his eye.

"You have something in your eye?" he asked. Simon sighed and collapsed against a confused Jack's chest. He definitely had his work cut out for him.

"Honey you gotta eat something," Ralph pressed, pushing the bowl of chicken noodle soup towards him.

"Nooo….. N't h'ngry…" Roger moaned, his voice raising an octave. He snuffled and tried to bury himself in the covers. Just the smell of that soup was making his stomach twist most unpleasantly. He just wanted to sleep, since throwing his guts up was not a fun activity. But nooo. Stupid Ralph had to go the entire length. Just to give him a bigger headache. Ralph sighed and set the bowl on the table.

"Well, what do you feel like eating?" he asked, putting his hands on his hips. Roger pushed his face into the pillows and if Ralph wasn't so frustrated with the sick twenty-two year old, he would've called it adorable.

"Ummm…. O'tmeal…." Roger said after a couple of sniffles and some pondering. He closed his eyes, trying to shut down his brain. Just connecting two brain cells took all his energy and left him puzzled and feeling like he was in a fog. Another thing he did not like. But not liking took too much energy.

Ralph cheerfully skipped back in with bowl of bland oatmeal. "Tadaaaa!" he sang. "Oatmeal from the heart!"

Roger just glared. Cheerfulness gave him a migraine. RALPH was giving him a migraine. But, he took the oatmeal and slowly started to eat it, praying it would stay in his stomach. Thankfully, God was merciful and let his stomach digest some food.

Roger slid down on his back with a sigh, letting Ralph become his personal slave for the day.

Simon was not happy. It was past noon and they had done nothing romantic. No playful snowball fight, no flowers, no snowman that they created together, no chocolate, no se-

"Hey Si, can you help me shop for groceries?" Jack's voice cut through his train. Simon sighed in disappointment. The only thing romantic that had happened was his daydreams, with was bordering on pathetic, in Simon's book. The nineteen year old complied all the same, still clinging to the fact that Jack might have something special planned.

Minutes later they were in the produce aisle shopping for broccoli of all things. Carrots and asparagus seemed more romantic. And the cheesy heart shaped balloons weren't helping! Stupid Valentine's Day.

"Hey Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"You… do know what day it is, right?"

"Yup."

"And…?"

Jack turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised. "And what?"

"It's Valentine's Day Jack! And we've done NOTHING!" Simon finally burst, waving his arms around for emphasis. Sometimes Jack was denser than cement.

"So…?"

"Arrrrg! You're hopeless Jack Merridew! Completely hopeless!" Simon huffed, stomping to someplace in the store that didn't remind him of his infuriating redhead. Suddenly his phone buzzed, signaling a text. Simon took it out, seeing it was Ralph. At least Ralph had a boyfriend that knew it was the day of Amour.

The text read:

HAY SIII!

Rogie's ain't feelin' well, so y dun u bring Ginger over and we watch some mushy gushy chic flics?

RAAALPH.

Simon chuckled at his obvious bad grammar. Roger must've been really sick not to monitor the blonde's texting. He reluctantly headed back to tell Jack. At least they had to look like a happy couple.

Ralph welcomed the two with a bright smile, but Simon could see the subtle eye twitch. Roger on a good day could be irritating, but sick, it must've been hell. Said person was wrapped in multiple blankets and armed with a large bowl and a tissue box just in case. He gave a snuffle as a greeting, and Simon suspected that it was all the greeting they were going to get.

"Aww, does wittle Rogie have the schniffles?" Simon cooed, poking Roger's cheek. Roger weakly tried to bat it away.

"B'gger 'ff Si," he huffed.

Ralph jumped at a ding from the kitchen. "The popcorn's ready!" he called. He glanced at Roger. "Want me to get you more tea while I'm there, babe?" he asked. Roger shook his head, looking very sleepy all of a sudden. Simon covered his mouth to hide the giggle. Roger hated being called pet names, and usually snapped at him. Jack raised an eyebrow and placed a hand on the brunette's forehead.

"You're burning up! You should be in bed!" he exclaimed, looking ready to scoop his best friend into his arms. Roger grabbed his sleeve.

"No… D'n't w'nt to dis'ppoint R'lph… V'lent'ne's Day…" he slurred, having trouble getting words out coherently. He looked up at the stunned twenty-three year old with big, pleading, un-Roger like eyes. Jack sighed and agreed to let Roger stay. (Though he also found it sweet that Roger would risk his health to make Ralph happy.)

They all settled in for the movie, the first being "Valentine's Day" for the holiday. Twenty minutes in Roger fell asleep, nestled contently in Ralph's arms. The blonde smiled warmly at the- his sleeping sadist and kissed his head. Maybe it wasn't that bad of a Valentine's Day after all.

After a couple movies Jack and Simon left since Ralph wanted Roger to get a good night sleep. Needless to say, the tension in the car could be cut with a knife.

"Ralph was romantic even when Roger was sick," Simon pointed out, breaking the awkward silence.

Jack sighed, "Ralph's always romantic…"

"And you're never romantic!"

"Si-"

"I mean it Jack. The movie was the only thing special we did. We went grocery shopping for God's sake! Who does that? Appearently you do! Because you don't have a romantic bone in your body!"

Jack suddenly stopped the car and faced him, and unreadable expression on his face.

"Get out."

Simon squeaked in surprise, his anger completely gone at Jack's words. "What?"

"You heard me, get out."

Slowly Simon complied, hoping Jack wouldn't just leave him abandoned in the dark and snow. Another car slam told the college student that he wasn't going to be left behind, which was a relief. Simon frowned. They were standing in front of their old primary school.

"Why are we here?" he asked. Jack just led him to the front steps.

"Do you remember this place?" Jack asked. Simon opened his mouth to say their old school, but Jack cut him off. "This was where we first met, Si. This is where I first fell in love with you…"

Simon felt his heart melt at Jack's sincere words. He smiled softly at the redhead, who wasn't done.

"Turn around…"

Simon complied and gasped. The entire grounds were covered in a new layer of snow, which glittered in the moonlight. "It's beautiful, oh Jack-"

Simon gasped when he turned to his boyfriend to tell him about the snow to find him on one knee, a small tell-tale red velvet box in one hand. It was open to reveal an expensive and gorgeous ring with a stunning diamond surrounded by smaller pinkish gems.

"Simon Jean Elliot, will you marry me?"

A thousand thoughts raced through his head at that moment. This was his surprise, and although he always criticized early marriage, it felt so right…

"Yes…" Simon finally whispered, and his boyfriend, no, fiancé swept him off his feet, as he always did, and kissed him right on the mouth. At that moment Simon's only though was:

Oh Saint Valentine, why must you tease us so?

*This is Celsius, which Brits use. This translates to about 103 degrees Fahrenheit. Which makes Rogie-Rog one sick puppy.

Hope ya'll enjoyed! I know I did!