Endless Skies, Chapter 08
Sequel to "Unequivocal." Yamato thought the hardest part of raising his son as a single teen dad was the first year. But he's quickly finding out how wrong he was as he juggles his first year of college, the band, dating, and the terrible twos. Taito. AU for Tri.
[Digimon] M+, family/drama, 6903 (63061) words, published 07-19-17
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Endless Skies
butterflie Chapter Eight
Caress of Venus
Sunday morning starts off interesting-Yamato bolts upright in bed, eyes flying wide open as he exclaims, "Oh shit!"
A short while later, he's on the phone to Taichi while preparing breakfast for himself and Naoki, giving in to his panic. "Please Taichi? This paper's really important, it's a major part of our grade-"
"I'm in the same class with you, Yamato, you don't have to tell me that," Taichi interrupts him in amusement.
Yamato blows out a slow breath. "Right, I know that." He pauses for a moment. "Just, can you come over? You don't have to watch Naoki really close, just make sure he's kept busy so I can write." He won't admit it, but even if it weren't for the paper, he'd probably still want Taichi to come over. They spent so little time together over the summer-and it was partly his fault, he knows, he could have sucked it up-but more than that, the apartment is feeling increasingly empty without Taichi in it.
"Of course, how soon do you need me?" Taichi asks easily-and ignores the part of his brain that's dancing around in glee at getting to spend the whole day at Yamato's apartment again.
"Whenever you can get here. Thank you, Taichi, I'll make it up to you."
"Oh, you definitely will," Taichi says, a grin spreading across his face at the thought.
Yamato sighs in exasperation, though amusement colours his tone. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Well, you still owe me for the rug burn, too, so one way or another..." Taichi lets his voice trail off suggestively, prompting another sigh out of Yamato.
"We'll see," is all he says in return.
* * *
"Guys, this is Junpei. Junpei, this is Taichi, and this is Yamato."
Taichi flashes Sora's new boyfriend a smile, while Yamato nods politely at him. Sora doesn't always have the best instincts when it comes to good guys, and he'll reserve judgement until he knows this one better. Though he does have to admit the guy is at least good-looking. Straight chin-length brown-blond hair parted to the right and feathering out around his face, stunningly bright green eyes, gloriously bronzed skin, and perfectly aligned shiny teeth that he flashes when he smiles-the guy could be a movie star.
Yamato tries not to dislike him.
"Yeah, of the Teenage Wolves, right?" Junpei says when he looks at Yamato.
Yamato blinks, for some reason feeling a little embarrassed. Something about the way he'd said the band's name... "Yes, that's right," Yamato says.
Junpei smiles. "Yeah, my little sister's a huge fan." And really, it's more of a smirk than a smile. "She has posters of you all over her walls."
Yamato blushes, wishing he could just sink into the ground. He knows his fans are going to have posters of him up-he'd had to pose for the things, and he's very aware of just how well they sell. Still, knowing it and encountering it, even indirectly, are two different things entirely.
"Junpei," Sora hisses, looking a bit scandalised.
Taichi, traitor that he is, just looks amused by the conversation.
"Where are we going for lunch?" Yamato asks loudly after a moment, since his boyfriend clearly isn't coming to his rescue. He prays the others go along with him, not wanting to think about teenage fangirls any longer.
Mercifully, they do.
Still, the conversation never fully leaves his mind, lingering long after he's picked up Naoki from Taichi's mom and come back home and had dinner and done homework. He can't get the way Junpei had said the band's name out of his mind. There'd been a slight emphasis on the word teenage, for what reason he can't fathom, and the tone had been mocking and derisive.
He knows he shouldn't let it get to him, but it bothers him.
After failing to take in the next paragraph of his history textbook for the third time, Yamato gives in and calls Ny. It isn't the first time the thought's crossed his mind, really-they'll all be twenty soon, Ratsuii in just a couple of months. The name won't suit them forever.
"I was thinking," he says, when Ny picks up and they've exchanged greetings.
"Uh-oh, hope it didn't hurt," Ny jokes.
Yamato rolls his eyes. "Ha ha. Look, what do you think about dropping "Teenage" from our band name, and just becoming The Wolves?"
He can practically hear the other teen's confused blink. "Why?"
Yamato shrugs out of habit, even though Ny can't see him. "We'll be adults soon enough. It'll be weird to keep referring to ourselves as teenagers. The name fit when I first came up with it, but now it feels like we're starting to outgrow it."
"You have a point," Ny says after a moment. "I'll think about it, and run it by the others as well, I suppose."
"Great," Yamato says, and even he finds it weird by how relieved he is. "Talk to you later."
"See you," Ny says, and the line goes dead.
* * *
"He seemed a little under the weather today," Yuuko says. "You might want to keep an eye on him this evening."
"Okay, thanks," Yamato says. He's distracted, school work on his mind, and only half pays attention to what Taichi's mom tells him, absently-minded saying goodbye.
He does notice that Naoki's a bit listless throughout the evening. Most nights he's energetic, babbling in toddler speak about his day, or his new favourite toy, or the dinner Yamato serves. Tonight though, he's quiet, and eats less than half of what he normally does, and doesn't protest when Yamato decides to put him to bed early. Yamato spares a thought to hope Naoki's not actually getting sick, before his mind gets wrapped up in studying for a test he's got Friday.
A retching sound wakes him in the middle of the night. He's not certain it's not the remnants of his dream when he first wakes, but a second round has him bolting out of bed, all sleepiness gone, nearly killing himself with his sheets as he rushes down the hall to his son's room. "I'm coming, baby," he calls, though he's not sure Naoki will hear him over the sound of his throwing up.
Yamato wrinkles his nose at the stench as he enters the room, but ignores it easily enough as he hurries to Naoki's side, helping the little boy up into a position so that he doesn't choke, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he continues to be sick. "Shh," Yamato murmurs, nonsensical. "It's okay, baby, Daddy's here, you're okay." He continues to sit there, comforting his son until soon Naoki's bringing up nothing but bile, and then at last stops altogether.
"Feel better now?" Yamato says teasingly, but of course that's about the time that Naoki starts sobbing. "Okay, okay, guess not..."
Yamato quickly feels his forehead, noting that he feels warm but not too warm-a fever, but not bad. He soothes Naoki some more, then tells him, "I'll be right back," as he darts into the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth from under the sink and wetting it with warm water before heading back. He proceeds to clean his son up some, washing his face and arms and pulling his dirty clothes off. He gets him fresh clothes, helping him into them, and then picks him up. "You wanna sleep in Daddy's bed tonight?" he asks.
Naoki buries his face into Yamato's shoulder, his sobs tapering off. "Daddy's bed," he says into Yamato's shirt, and despite the situation Yamato can't help but smile a little. It's not what he ever would have predicted for his life, and he hadn't realised he was signing up to clean toddler barf at two in the morning, but he loves this amazing little boy, this wonderful human being that he helped to create, with all his heart.
"Come on then," he says, and carries Naoki the short bit down the hall to his own room. He gets him settled into his bed, and has to bite his lip to avoid laughing at how much the queen size bed dwarfs the little boy-he's nearly swallowed up by all the blankets. He situates himself next to Naoki, then begins to rub his back, singing softly to him, and it doesn't take long for Naoki to fall asleep. Yamato glances over to his clock, sighing as he notes the time. 2:37 in the morning, and he still has to clean up the mess in the other room before it sets in and gets more difficult to scrub.
He lets out another sigh, and then reluctantly slips carefully out of the bed, deciding he might as well get to it.
* * *
Yamato's tired and dragging the next morning when he gets up, having been woken up twice more in the night by Naoki-though thankfully early enough to save his bed from also getting thrown up on. He doesn't bother to feed Naoki breakfast, knowing the kid would just throw it right back up. Instead, he shoots off a quick text to Taichi-Naoki sick, won't be in history, not sure about bio-and then calls the doctor's office.
He's just managed to get Naoki dressed when he gets a return text. Hope the little guy's okay. I'll get a copy of Sora's notes for you.
Yamato smiles a bit as he reads the message, then sends a reply while he's tossing things into the diaper bag, resorting to text speak when using only one hand proves to be annoying. dont think its serious. &dont have to but thx. txt when I know more.
Okay. Thanks.
He flips his phone shut and shoves in it his pocket, and then glances into Naoki's closet, looking at the folded up stroller with hesitation. He hasn't tried to put the kid in it for months now, but... Well, the doctor's office isn't that close, and he doesn't want to have to carry his sick son for the duration of the time they're not on the subway. Deciding to hell with it, he pulls it out. He only hopes Naoki is feeling too sick to put up a fuss, even though the thought makes him feel guilty.
"Come on, baby," he says, hefting the little boy up. Naoki settles into the stroller without a single cry-it's actually a little disconcerting, even though it's what Yamato was hoping for. It surprises him how much he hates it to see his son this way-he'd been sick a couple of times as an infant, and that had been a little scary, feeling how warm he was, but ultimately it hadn't seemed much different than the rest of the time-he'd cried and thrown up and slept, just like he did when he wasn't sick. Now, it's different. Seeing his normally energetic and happy son look so pale and listless, crying and complaining as best as he can about being feverish and achy makes Yamato's heart hurt for him. It's like the time Naoki ran into the coffee table-Yamato wants to take his son's pain away and protect him always. He hates that he can't.
Shaking off his somewhat maudlin thoughts, he locks the front door and sets off. A while later, he finds himself looking around the waiting room of the doctor's office, a slight grimace on his face at all the sick and sniffling kids surrounding them. He knows Naoki's not any better than the rest of them, even though he's not coughing and sneezing into his face mask like a lot of the kids, but the place still feels like a cesspool of infection.
"Please don't let me get sick," Yamato mumbles to himself, and Naoki lolls his head to look at him, hearing the noise but not the words. "It's nothing, baby."
Naoki looks at him a moment longer, and then scoots closer to him, curling up into Yamato's side, feeling too bad to care that his dad's talking to himself like a crazy person. Yamato sighs and puts an arm around his son, tired and bored. He gets the feeling he won't be making it to his biology class in a little while. It's probably for the better anyway, as he's not sure he'd be able to pay attention or even stay awake.
It's funny-he can still remember, with a fuzzy sort of recall, the time Ratsuii had come to school a few years ago after staying up all night taking care of a sick Luna. He doesn't remember the exact words anymore, but he knows something had been mentioned about him having to do this one day. At the time, Yamato couldn't even begin to imagine it, thinking it had sounded horrifying. Now that it's here, well... nothing about this has been horrifying. It's just yet another parenting thing he has to do, and at this point he's so used to being sleep deprived, both from when Naoki was a baby and all the stuff that's been going on lately, that the thought of going to school on so little sleep hardly fazes him. In fact, more than anything right now, he's simply bored.
You never told me dealing with a sick kid would be so boring. He doesn't know if Ratsuii's in class or not, but he knows Taichi is, and Ratsuii's really the only one that can relate, anyway.
His phone soon vibrates with a response. Huh?
Never mind. Naoki's sick, I'm at the doctor's waiting, bored out of my mind.
Oh. Sorry man. Hope he's okay. And yeah waiting around does get boring.
I suppose it's that way for everything. You in class?
Yeah.
Yamato grimaces. Sorry. Didn't mean to bother you.
Nah, it's fine. This professor is boring anyway. And the girl next to me has a crush on me, I can just get the notes from her.
He smirks to himself. Isn't that sort of... using her?
I'm just being resourceful!
He almost laughs aloud at that, before catching himself. He doesn't want everyone thinking he's lost his mind, or to get kicked out for scaring a bunch of kids. He starts to type a reply, but just then their number is finally called, so he stands up, changing the text to a quick g2g before gathering up Naoki and following the nurse.
* * *
Strep throat.
Huh?
It's what Naoki has. Probably skip classes and lab tomorrow to take care of him.
What about our test?!
I'll email him.
You need me to come over and help after classes?
No, it's okay. He's not that sick. Don't come, you might get sick too.
But then I could be spoiled by you taking care of me. Sounds great to me! See you soon!
Don't even try it, Yagami. I'll call Hikari.
*pouts* You're no fun.
That's not what you said a few nights ago ;)
Yamato! Now you're just being a tease.
I'll make it up to you soon ;)
Damn right you will, Ishida :P
* * *
That night isn't any better in terms of sleep, having to get up constantly to take care of a sick two year old, and Yamato's sorely glad he's skipping classes the next morning when he wakes up exhausted. He really doesn't even want to get out of bed, they're enough into October now that the nights and early mornings are just cool enough to enjoy huddling under a warm blanket, and right now he feels cosy and comfortable...
He sighs, and then groans softly, throwing back the covers a bit while being careful not to smother Naoki. He needs to check and see if his professor emailed him back about making up the test he'll be missing today.
"...Nothing, really?" he mumbles to himself once he's got the computer booted and his email pulled up. He feels a twinge of anxiety, but he's still got a couple of hours before he needs to really worry about it, so he pushes it aside and goes to deal with his ailing son.
Two hours before class, he finally gets a reply back.
Mr. Ishida,
I sympathise with your plight; however, I unfortunately cannot give make-up exams. I hope to see you in class.
Professor Takada.
When Yamato reads the short reply, all he can do is stare at it blankly for a moment, before expressing one word that sums up how he's feeling pretty accurately. "...Shit." He stares some more, breathing out slowly as he wonders what the hell to do now. He's got Naoki, he can't just leave him alone, and he certainly can't bring him to class. Tendrils of panic start to well up, possibly leftover remnants from last term, thinking every missed class was a failure for the course, but even if this professor isn't a dick like Dr. Kanada, he doesn't want to miss the class, or the exam-and it seems a little unfair the guy won't give make-up exams.
"Okay, think Ishida... You've got options... and why is it always the literature professors?" He rubs at his eyes, feeling stressed, and thinking that every little thing has him stressed way too easily these days. He misses when he could feel laid-back about things, and isn't sure if this is a result of becoming a parent or just growing up. Perhaps both.
He calls Taichi's mom first, thinking maybe she'd be willing to come to his apartment, but no one answers even when he lets the line ring several times. The same thing happens at the Izumi residence, although he hadn't really expected anyone to be home on a weekday. Swearing, he calls Ratsuii's cell, but the relief he feels at Ratsuii answering is short-lived.
"I'm sorry, man, you know I would in a heartbeat if I could, but I've got a class myself here in an hour."
"What about your mom, or your siblings? Who's watching Luna?" Yamato asks him in confusion.
"They're all at work, or school. Luna's at school too, she's six now, remember? She started first grade this year."
"Right, right, okay... Thanks. Talk to you later."
"Good luck, Yamato. Bye."
He hangs up with another swear, taking a deep breath to calm, but he's aware that he's running out of time. He briefly considers Kenji, or Ny, but Kenji's still too much of a joker, and Ny... well, he's still a bit annoyed with Ny's behaviour of late. And he also knows the kinds of things Ny gets up to sometimes. As much Yamato trusts them, he doesn't trust Naoki with them.
Fuck, what does he do... His two usual babysitters aren't available, the few friends he'd trust with Naoki are all in school, Ratsuii has class, he doesn't trust his other bandmates enough, his parents are likely working, he can't just not take his exam...
He swallows, almost in tears at the thought of missing class. He'll call his dad anyway. Maybe he'll have a suggestion, or miraculously be off work.
"Ishida."
"Dad..." he pauses, feeling his throat catch. Why is he so worked up over this? His grades have always mattered to him, but when did they become this important, that he's about to cry because he'll miss one exam? It's not even a midterm or a final, it's not a huge part of his grade, and if he has to take one class over surely it's not that big of a deal?
"Yamato? Is everything okay? Is it Naoki? Are you okay?"
Apparently he's been quiet longer than he realises, if his dad's sounding that worried. He clears his throat so he can speak. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, just... Naoki's got strep throat and I was going to stay home and watch him, but I have a test in an hour and a half and the professor says he won't let me make it up and I can't find anyone to watch Naoki..." He sighs. "I know you're at work, but I didn't know if there was some way, maybe..."
"I can't, but go ahead and get ready. I know your mom's on vacation this week, I'll call her and have her come over to your apartment."
"Thank you," Yamato tells him fervently, relief washing through him. They quickly say their goodbyes and hang up, and he hurries to get ready for class, checking on Naoki again once he is. The poor kid is sleeping, though obviously not very well-he's still feverish, and is both sweating and shivering at the same time. Yamato frowns, wondering if he should wake him up to take his temperature a bit early, or leave it for his mom to do at the appropriate time.
It winds up being moot when he hears the doorbell ring, announcing his mom's arrival. He glances at Naoki, wondering if the noise woke him, but he hasn't moved, clearly out of it. Yamato looks at his watch, noting his mom's made good time-if he hurries, he'll just make it.
"Thanks so much Mom," he says as he lets her in. "Did Dad tell you he was sick?"
She nods, hanging up her jacket and slipping her shoes off. "It's no problem, honey. And yes, he mentioned it."
"Okay, well, he's sleeping right now, he's still feeling warm, I wake him up to check his temperature every hour. He's got meds in the fridge, and plenty to drink, and he's not eating much besides broth or popsicles. I shouldn't be more than two hours, it's just a test."
"Oh, no, go ahead and go to all your classes, I can stay with him. He'll probably be too busy sleeping to miss you."
"Thanks, that makes me feel better," Yamato tells her sarcastically, but he flashes a smile to take any sting out of the words.
His mom smiles at him. "You know what I mean. Go on now, before you're late."
He nods, and snatches up his bag by the front door before slipping on his shoes. "Thanks again, I'll see you later!" he calls, already heading out the front door. He checks his watch again, letting out a swear as he breaks into a run. He manages to slide into class with one minute to spare and Professor Takada giving him a warning look. Taichi raises his eyebrows at him in surprise, but there's no time to explain.
"Tell you later," he whispers as the tests get handed out, and Taichi nods.
* * *
Yamato's woken Monday morning by Naoki jumping on top of his stomach with a giggle. He jolts awake, his eyes snapping open, feeling the wind knocked out of him.
"Mor'nin' Daddy!" Naoki says, giggling again.
"Morning, Naoki," Yamato manages, wincing at how scratchy his voice comes out. He's not feeling good at all-he's warm despite the blankets, his head's pounding, and his stomach's rolling uncomfortably. All it takes is for him to swallow and feel how sore his throat is to realise he's caught Naoki's sickness. At least he seems to be feeling better, he thinks grumpily to himself.
At first he contemplates going to classes anyway, but then Naoki suddenly shifts on top of him, reaching out to pat his face, and he feels vomit rising and knows that won't be possible. He carefully but quickly lifts Naoki off of him, and then throws back the covers, darting for the bathroom, making it just in time. He doesn't know how long he stays hunched over the toilet, fighting his body to keep all of his organs inside where they belong, but when at last he slumps back, scrubbing wearily at his mouth, Naoki's standing in the doorway of the bathroom, wide-eyed.
"Daddy is sick! Like me!"
"Yeah, Daddy is sick," Yamato says tiredly. His throat feels shredded now, and his head feels as if someone's taking a sledgehammer to it. He desperately wants to crawl back in bed and burrow under the covers for the next few days, but even if he skips classes, he still has to take care of Naoki. He doesn't want to dump the poor kid on his parents again, and Naoki's never slept away from home-Yamato's not sure how well he would take to it.
Somehow he manages to get himself off the floor, and rinses his mouth with water from the tap. Back in his bedroom, Naoki following behind him, he grabs his phone and flips it open to text Taichi.
Guess who caught Naoki's sickness?
Oh no.
Yeah, I won't be in classes the next few days.
I'm coming over. Yamato scowls at his phone as he reads Taichi's message. He can take care of himself. He's about to send back a reply when his phone chimes with another text. I know you, Ishida. Don't even dare argue with me.
"Fine," he says sullenly to the phone as he flips it shut.
"Daddy?" Naoki says, wrapping himself around Yamato's left leg and looking up at him with a smile.
"Hmm, baby?"
"I love you!"
Yamato blinks, completely caught off guard. The toddler's pronunciation is off, his 'v' coming out more like a 'b,' but it's the first time Yamato's heard his son say that phrase. He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, his chest feeling tight, and forces out, "I love you too, baby," in return, ruffling Naoki's soft blond hair. Naoki hugs his leg, and despite how horrible he's feeling, the simple affection from his son warms his heart. He leans down and picks him up, squeezing him close in a return hug. Naoki giggles, patting his back.
"Taichi's coming over soon," he says as he sets the little boy back down. "You wanna sit with me on the sofa and watch some television until he gets here?"
"Yeah, TB!" Naoki cheers, and Yamato has to smother a snort.
"Let's go then."
* * *
Taichi shows up about an hour and a half later. Yamato's half-asleep on the sofa, huddled up under the blanket he keeps on the back of it, Naoki curled up into his side, and the knock jars him awake, making him start and nearly upsetting Naoki.
"Daddy?"
"It's just Taichi."
He gets up reluctantly and lets his boyfriend in, making a face when Taichi greets him with, "You look like crap."
"And so lovely to see you too," Yamato says dryly. "Did you rush over here just to kick me while I'm down?"
Taichi grins. "You know you love it."
Yamato rolls his eyes, choosing not to dignify that with a response. "You really shouldn't have come over though," he says as he crawls back under his blanket.
Taichi jabs a finger towards him. "I said no arguing."
"But you're missing class," Yamato protests. "And you'll probably get sick too." Secretly though, he's glad Taichi is here. It's nice to have someone that wants to take care of him when he's not well, and he still hasn't gotten over missing Taichi ever since he stayed the week. He really hopes Taichi stays for a few days.
"I don't care," Taichi says firmly. "What do you need me to do?"
"Well, I haven't fed Naoki yet..."
"Right," though he looks as if he's having second doubts now. Yamato's not sure if it's at the thought of cooking or just taking care of Naoki, though Taichi's done it plenty of times in the past without complaint.
"You don't have to cook. Just give him some cereal. And his medicine's in the fridge."
"No problem," Taichi says, but he still looks uneasy. Yamato would question it, if he wasn't busy currently bolting for the bathroom again.
Halfway through, he feels a warm washcloth being set against the back of his neck. "Naoki?" he mumbles when he's got a moment.
"In his high chair, probably wearing his cereal more than eating it."
"Thanks."
Taichi waves it away. "It's fine." It's not, entirely. Or it is, but sort of isn't. Since he stayed that week with Yamato, he's felt... different, about Naoki. He's not entirely sure how to sort it out in his head. He had loved that week, loved staying here, had felt like he belonged, but after going back home and realising how much he missed being at Yamato's, it had made him really start thinking about what it would like to be live here all the time, not just fantasising. And being here would make him sort of like another dad to Naoki, or at least he thinks it would. And he's not sure how he feels about that. It's one thing to babysit him, or to help out now and then. But to be taking care of him full-time, like a parent...
He doesn't even know why he cares right now. It's not like he is living here, and he's already decided he's not going to say anything about the possibility until Yamato does, not wanting to intrude. So for now he's still just helping out with Naoki like he always has, and it shouldn't mean anything more than that.
And yet, somehow, it does.
"You okay?" Yamato says suddenly, leaning up to flush the toilet.
Taichi blinks, pulled out of his musing as he remembers just where he is. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
Yamato shrugs. "I'll live. You just went all quiet. Doing some deep thinking?" he teased. "Be careful you don't hurt your head."
Taichi gives him a wry smile, taking the washcloth and wringing it out before redoing it with hot water again. "Something like that," he says, putting the washcloth on Yamato again.
"You wanna talk about it?" Yamato asks, a little more serious now. "I'll do my best to listen in between rounds of barfing."
That startles a laugh out of Taichi, and he shakes his head. "I need to figure it out first," he says, and Yamato nods. "I should probably go check on Naoki," he adds, feeling the need to escape before Yamato decides he wants to press the subject.
Yamato nods. "Leave him too long and he'll start flinging cereal at the cabinets."
"We definitely don't want that."
* * *
Like before, Yamato enjoys the few days that Taichi stays over, taking care of him and helping with Naoki. However, he still acts somewhat weird around the little boy and Yamato absolutely can't figure out why-Taichi's never had a problem with him before. He certainly wasn't like this the last time he stayed, or all the times he was with Naoki in between then and now.
More than that, he still seems to have something on his mind that he won't talk about it. It's unusual for him. Yamato's usually the one to keep everything inside, while Taichi's more the type to blurt out whatever he's thinking. Or at least he was. Yamato supposes he's not the only one that's been doing some growing up the past couple of years.
"Feeling better?" Taichi asks when Yamato dares to eat some soup for dinner the next night.
"Mm-hmm. Medicine's helping," he says quietly. He hadn't wanted to, but Taichi had forced him to go to the doctor yesterday, staying home to watch after Naoki. The doctor had confirmed his illness as being strep, so he owes Taichi for making him go, since he would have been much more miserable without the medicine.
"Daddy is sick," Naoki interjects, trying to sound and look serious. With his high-pitched baby voice and sauce smeared all over his face, it doesn't work very well. Yamato hides a grin, and can see Taichi struggling to do the same.
"Well, that's why I'm staying here and helping him get better," Taichi informs the toddler when he's not in danger of laughing.
Much later, when Naoki has long since been asleep and he and Taichi are curled up under the blankets together in his big bed, Yamato asks him when he's going home.
"I was thinking probably tomorrow afternoon," Taichi says, absently running fingers down Yamato's bare chest. "You seem to be getting better, and you were talking about going back to classes Thursday..."
"Yeah," Yamato says, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. What Taichi is saying makes sense, but... he really likes having him here. He doesn't want Taichi to go home already. It's not about being sick, or even the help with Naoki that he provides. It's just that having Taichi staying here feels right. It makes him think again about having Taichi move in. He feels like it's too soon still, that Taichi won't want to yet, or that it might mess up their relationship somehow, but he really hates the thought of Taichi not being here again.
"What, you gonna miss me?" Taichi teases, his hand dipping lower to Yamato's stomach.
"A bit," Yamato admits, but then he doesn't want Taichi to realise just how serious he really is, so he adds, "It's nice being able to laze around the apartment while someone else takes care of Naoki."
Taichi makes an amused noise. "Aha, I knew you just wanted me for slave labour. Why not just hire a nanny?"
"That sounds terribly British," Yamato says with a snicker. "And why hire one when I have you?"
"Well, I certainly wouldn't mind being your slave just for tonight..." Taichi says, trailing his fingers to the edge of Yamato's pyjama pants as he lets his voice go low and sultry. Yamato shivers, both at the touch and at the sudden sexual energy in the air. He loves it when Taichi sounds like that, just the heat and pure need in his voice is enough to get Yamato hard nearly instantly.
Taichi sits up, the blankets falling off of him as he scoots down just a bit, and starts to slide his fingers under the edge, going even lower, but Yamato reaches out his own hand, shoving away the blankets completely, wrapping his fingers around Taichi's wrist, staying him. It's so tempting, but... "We can't," he says.
"Why not?" Taichi asks, and he sounds pouty, and god help him, somehow it turns him on even more.
"...I'm sick?" Yamato says, and okay, he's a little incredulous that he has to point out the obvious, but Taichi doesn't always think when his dick takes over.
"Are you feeling bad right now?"
"Not particularly, a little, but... that's not the point!"
"Then what is?" And Taichi's shaking his wrist off, going lower still, fingers brushing gently through coarse curls, and Yamato shudders at how good it feels.
"I... Taichi, no, I'll get you sick." His protests are feeble, and pointless-he's already gone, and he knows it. It always feels too fucking good, and Taichi knows just how to draw him in so he doesn't want to say no.
"Then we just won't kiss."
Yamato doesn't have a response to that-partially because it's so ridiculous he doesn't know what to say, and partially because Taichi's hand is already wrapping loosely around him, sliding up and down in slow, lazy strokes. Yamato groans, and lets his head thunk back against the headboard.
"Still wanna say no?" Taichi asks, grinning cheekily at him, his eyes sparkling with laughter.
Yamato scowls at him, lifting his head again. "Jerk," he says, though there's no heat behind the word.
"Well, if you really don't want me to..." Taichi starts to pull his hand away, and though it's embarrassing, Yamato actually whines before he can stop himself. Taichi raises an eyebrow. "What was that?"
"Shut up," Yamato tells him, scowling harder, though the darkening colour in his cheeks rather ruins the effect.
Taichi actually has the audacity to laugh, the smug bastard. "That's what I thought, Ishida," he says, curling his fingers back around Yamato's dick, firmly this time, and Yamato can't help but to moan when Taichi tugs his hand upwards in a quick stroke, even though he really wants to call Taichi a smug bastard out loud. Taichi begins to jerk him off in earnest, and fuck, why does it always feel so incredible? A few more strokes, and he's already feeling feverish-though whether that's the illness or the arousal, he's not quite sure-and really, who does Taichi think he is?
"Exactly who-oh fuck-" and he's gasping, warm wet heat suddenly enveloping his right nipple, and Taichi's still fisting his dick, so tight in his boxers, the head rubbing against the soft cotton fabric "-who is supposed to be-Taichi-" his voice goes shrill, there's so much friction, his boxers are soaked through with precum in one spot, and his blood feels like molten lava pounding through his veins, he can't think straight, and now there's a hand caressing his balls through his boxers, and he's going to come soon if Taichi doesn't stop-
Taichi chuckles, causing little vibrations against his nipple, and a shiver races down his spine at the sensation. "What was that?" Taichi asks, briefly pulling his mouth away. "Were you saying something?"
Yamato can only stare at him, eyes glazed, his mind blank. Had he been saying something? He doesn't know, doesn't care, only knows that he wants Taichi to keep touching him, to keep stroking him-
"Who is supposed to be...?" Taichi prompts, a coy little smirk on his face, and he knows, he knows where Yamato was going with that, and then Yamato remembers too, and he lets out a little shriek of indignation, batting away Taichi's hands as he jerks back. Taichi acquiesces easily, the smirk never leaving.
"Exactly who is supposed to be the slave here?" Yamato huffs in aggravation, or at least tries to. He's still a little out of breath from nearly coming in his boxers just from a damn handjob.
"What, am I not pleasing you enough, master?" Taichi asks, false innocence in his voice, and that pouty little expression is back on his face, batting his eyes demurely, and damned if Yamato doesn't nearly blow his load then and there. He's never given much thought to kink before, never gotten off on the idea of a sex slave, but Taichi's rapidly changing that.
"Fuck," he breathes out lowly, and swallows, hard. He barely even notices the sting of pain from his still somewhat sore throat. He stares at Taichi, stares into those warm brown eyes, and even though Taichi's face is a perfect picture of submission at the moment, there's still that knowing amusement lurking in the depths, the one that says despite his words, he's in control, and he's going to do as he damn well pleases to Yamato.
Well, fuck that. Yamato's not going to stand for it. He jerks upright, too suddenly for Taichi to react, and then he's got his hands on Taichi's chest, pushing him back, down into the bed. Before Taichi can even open his mouth to protest Yamato's straddling him, leaning down to claim his mouth in a bruising kiss. Taichi's already spent two days around him, he'll either get sick or not, one kiss won't make that much difference.
"Did I do something wrong, master?" Taichi asks, a little breathlessly, once they break apart, gazing up at him, and Yamato hisses out another breath, simultaneously wishing Taichi would stop calling him that and feeling more turned on by it than he ever has by anything else in his life.
"Dammit, Taichi," he mumbles under his breath, but they're so close that of course Taichi hears him anyway.
"Please, master, if I've done something wrong, tell me so that I might fix it and please you instead," Taichi murmurs to him, lowering his eyes in deference.
Yamato manages to hold himself back from moaning-barely. He has no idea where this is coming from, and as much as he's loving it, he's not sure they're ready to dive into the realm of kink just yet. "Taichi," he says.
"Yes, master?" Taichi reaches up to graze a thumb lightly over one nipple, back and forth, a featherlight touch barely brushing it each time.
"Fuck, no, Taichi-stop for a minute. Including calling me... that."
Taichi drops his hand and looks up at him, all traces of servility gone. "Too much?"
"I don't know, not exactly... maybe a little, at least right now. Aren't there supposed to be safe words, and rules for this kind of thing?" Yamato asks helplessly.
"We could make some?"
Taichi's looking at him with a hopeful smile, and it is tempting, because he can't believe how hot it actually was to have Taichi call him that, but he's just not sure still, it's new and weirding him out some, and there's the fact that he's also sick-it's not too bad, but he's feeling it just enough for it to be annoying. "Can I have some time to think about it?" he finally asks. "And maybe we can try it some other time?"
"Sure... master." Taichi smirks, but Yamato rolls his eyes, refusing to let it get to him, and steadfastly ignores the interested twitch his dick gives at the word. Instead he shuts Taichi up with another kiss, and then rolls his hips, grinding their dicks together. The action elicits a quick gasp from Taichi, and Yamato grins smugly at him.
It's his turn to have a little fun, and hopefully drive Taichi crazy in the process while he's at it. He already can't wait.
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