012. not sick.
title: not sick
pairing: matsumoto jun/sakurai sho
rating: pg-13, though for the life of me, i can't remember why i'd decided on that rating (possibly language, as per usual)
word count: 1273
disclaimer: this is purely a work of fiction. i don't own! i just play with them
author's note: i officially only have 5 minutes to post this before i have to run back to work ;_; and i haven't reread this so there may or may not be errors in my hurry
summary:
“I’m not sick,” Sho says.
“Okay,” Jun replies, thumbing disinterestedly through his script.
“I’m fine, Jun,” he repeats, after his fourth consecutive sneeze. His nose is red at the tip, to match the color around the edges of his eyes, which are also smudged a sickly grey underneath the lids. “Just fine. Really, really fine.”
“Sure,” Jun says, in the midst of Sho’s next sneeze. “So, you probably don’t want to go home, yeah? Gonna be a long day.”
Sho mumbles something vague, snatching a tissue out of the nearby box. After a moment of contemplation, he grabs for the box itself and balances it in his lap, looking exhausted and forlorn from expelling even the slightest amount of energy.
“Can’t hear you around your cold,” Jun yawns.
“It is not a cold,” Sho whines, “and I said that it’ll be over before I know it anyway.”
It isn’t. In fact, Sho thinks it’s possibly the longest day of his entire life but he doesn’t need to tell Jun that, because Jun keeps casting him glances out of the corner of his eye that seem to say something like this is what you get for being stubborn. Or perhaps that’s the voice in his head. Either way, Jun’s steady gaze is telling him something. It doesn’t help that the others have asked him if he’s going to be alright at least a thousand times.
By the time the day finally ends, Sho is suffering from delirium and an intense case of the shakes. He’s positive that he’s running a fever and honestly, he would have been better off staying home. He hadn’t been needed that badly.
When he gets to his car, he forcefully collapses into the driver’s seat. There is a loud knock at his window and he jumps.
Jun is scowling at him through the glass.
Sho lowers his window with an uncertain bite to his lip. “Uh- yes?”
“You’re going to attempt to drive when you’ve got a fever high enough to possibly cause hallucinations?” Jun demands to know, reaching in through the open window and relieving Sho of his keys. “I think not.”
“Has anyone ever referred to you as ‘paranoid’?” Sho says, but Jun is already opening the driver’s side door, forcing Sho to slide over to the next seat. “And besides, what about your car?”
“It isn’t going anywhere, we can get it later. But someone has to take care of you before you push yourself into your deathbed,” Jun mutters darkly, “and unfortunately, that person has to be me.” Sho throws an affronted glance in his direction but Jun ignores it in favor of putting the car into drive and taking them back to Sho’s.
They drive in silence, Jun’s fingers tapping out an anxious cadence against the steering wheel while Sho finds himself drifting in and out of consciousness. At some point, he thinks he may be dreaming about a giant purple and red striped elephant sitting in the backseat of his car and he jolts back to wakefulness for a split second before dropping back against his seat. Jun isn’t looking at him, but Sho can tell he’s worried.
The elephant has returned, talking Sho’s ear off about his inability to communicate properly (what does that have to do with anything, anyway? He wonders vaguely) but in the middle of a sentence, it starts to shake his shoulder and he thinks Dream-Elephant is annoying and then the elephant’s voice mutates into Jun’s voice and Sho thinks That’s better.
Until Jun’s lips press against the rim of his ear and he whispers, “I am not carrying you inside, so it’s time to get up.”
With a groan, Sho forces his eyes open and gives himself a moment for his senses to sharpen. Jun is balancing the open car door against his hip with a hand held out for Sho, who takes it thankfully, hoisting himself up on weak knees. “Thank you,” he says, thinly, yet pleased that he’s managing to stand mostly on his own shaky legs.
He stumbles a few times on the way inside but Jun catches him and tightens his grip each time until he can guide him to the couch, deciding that moving any further than that is simply irrational.
“Lay down,” he commands, and Sho does as he’s told, though it makes him feel small and inept. He forgets about it as soon as Jun slides a pillow under his head though.
“You don’t have to stay,” he mumbles against the pillow, sighing when Jun slips an icepack down across his cheeks and under the collar of his shirt to touch his collarbones, brushing away beads of sweat in his path. Sho doesn’t know where he got the pack from, nor does he recall Jun leaving long enough to get it, but things are a bit muzzy at the moment anyway and the cold feels fantastic. “That is, as long as you don’t mind taking the train back to the Jimusho.”
Jun touches his forehead and murmurs, “you have been such an idiot all day long.” It might be an admonishment, but there’s a certain degree of affection in it that even Sho, in his fever-induced state, can’t miss. “And after I leave, do you intend to eat?”
“I’ll make something,” Sho says, instinctively arching into the soothing touches of Jun’s fingers fluttering along his abdomen. He shivers when a rogue thumb hazards beneath the hem of his sweatshirt.
“We both know how that will turn out. I can make you some dinner, just quit being so stubborn.” Jun gives the edge of his sweatshirt a light tug. “Shift a bit so we can get this off. You’ll overheat.”
Sho obeys, and Jun strips the extra layer off for him, leaving him in his t-shirt and jeans. “But I’m cold,” Sho says, after a delay.
“I’ll get a blanket, it’ll be easier to remove when you get hot again, which you will,” Jun says, dropping down to be at Sho’s eye level. The furrow of concern between his brows is attractive in a way that makes Sho astonishingly grateful that he’s the person that look is concentrated on. He’s tempted to say it out loud but for some reason he thinks of the elephant in the car and bites his tongue. “Sho,” Jun says in a low voice, “please let me stay.”
No matter what Jun asks for, Sho knows he will grant it to him to the best of his abilities, especially when Jun asks in that tone. He grips Jun’s hand in an attempt to convey all of the messages that his mouth won’t give out. He doesn’t know if that will work so he tries his tongue anyway. “Stay,” is what he manages, “I’ll take the dinner offer. Say you’ll stay.”
Jun squeezes his hand and smiles. Then he lays a slow, gentle kiss against the corner of Sho’s mouth.
“I’m hallucinating again, aren’t I?” Sho asks with a despondent sigh.
“If you think so,” Jun snorts, but his smile is still firmly in place as he releases Sho’s hand to grab a blanket off of the back of the couch and spread it out over him. Then he promises, “you can find out whether or not it’s a hallucination after your fever breaks.”
“You didn’t say-” Sho begins, but Jun gives him that look again, the one that makes him grateful, and causes him to forget his name.
“Of course I’ll stay,” Jun says quietly, and he heads into the kitchen to start dinner.
Sho has never been happier to be sick in his entire life.
pairing: matsumoto jun/sakurai sho
rating: pg-13, though for the life of me, i can't remember why i'd decided on that rating (possibly language, as per usual)
word count: 1273
disclaimer: this is purely a work of fiction. i don't own! i just play with them
author's note: i officially only have 5 minutes to post this before i have to run back to work ;_; and i haven't reread this so there may or may not be errors in my hurry
summary:
“I’m not sick,” Sho says.
“Okay,” Jun replies, thumbing disinterestedly through his script.
“I’m fine, Jun,” he repeats, after his fourth consecutive sneeze. His nose is red at the tip, to match the color around the edges of his eyes, which are also smudged a sickly grey underneath the lids. “Just fine. Really, really fine.”
“Sure,” Jun says, in the midst of Sho’s next sneeze. “So, you probably don’t want to go home, yeah? Gonna be a long day.”
Sho mumbles something vague, snatching a tissue out of the nearby box. After a moment of contemplation, he grabs for the box itself and balances it in his lap, looking exhausted and forlorn from expelling even the slightest amount of energy.
“Can’t hear you around your cold,” Jun yawns.
“It is not a cold,” Sho whines, “and I said that it’ll be over before I know it anyway.”
It isn’t. In fact, Sho thinks it’s possibly the longest day of his entire life but he doesn’t need to tell Jun that, because Jun keeps casting him glances out of the corner of his eye that seem to say something like this is what you get for being stubborn. Or perhaps that’s the voice in his head. Either way, Jun’s steady gaze is telling him something. It doesn’t help that the others have asked him if he’s going to be alright at least a thousand times.
By the time the day finally ends, Sho is suffering from delirium and an intense case of the shakes. He’s positive that he’s running a fever and honestly, he would have been better off staying home. He hadn’t been needed that badly.
When he gets to his car, he forcefully collapses into the driver’s seat. There is a loud knock at his window and he jumps.
Jun is scowling at him through the glass.
Sho lowers his window with an uncertain bite to his lip. “Uh- yes?”
“You’re going to attempt to drive when you’ve got a fever high enough to possibly cause hallucinations?” Jun demands to know, reaching in through the open window and relieving Sho of his keys. “I think not.”
“Has anyone ever referred to you as ‘paranoid’?” Sho says, but Jun is already opening the driver’s side door, forcing Sho to slide over to the next seat. “And besides, what about your car?”
“It isn’t going anywhere, we can get it later. But someone has to take care of you before you push yourself into your deathbed,” Jun mutters darkly, “and unfortunately, that person has to be me.” Sho throws an affronted glance in his direction but Jun ignores it in favor of putting the car into drive and taking them back to Sho’s.
They drive in silence, Jun’s fingers tapping out an anxious cadence against the steering wheel while Sho finds himself drifting in and out of consciousness. At some point, he thinks he may be dreaming about a giant purple and red striped elephant sitting in the backseat of his car and he jolts back to wakefulness for a split second before dropping back against his seat. Jun isn’t looking at him, but Sho can tell he’s worried.
The elephant has returned, talking Sho’s ear off about his inability to communicate properly (what does that have to do with anything, anyway? He wonders vaguely) but in the middle of a sentence, it starts to shake his shoulder and he thinks Dream-Elephant is annoying and then the elephant’s voice mutates into Jun’s voice and Sho thinks That’s better.
Until Jun’s lips press against the rim of his ear and he whispers, “I am not carrying you inside, so it’s time to get up.”
With a groan, Sho forces his eyes open and gives himself a moment for his senses to sharpen. Jun is balancing the open car door against his hip with a hand held out for Sho, who takes it thankfully, hoisting himself up on weak knees. “Thank you,” he says, thinly, yet pleased that he’s managing to stand mostly on his own shaky legs.
He stumbles a few times on the way inside but Jun catches him and tightens his grip each time until he can guide him to the couch, deciding that moving any further than that is simply irrational.
“Lay down,” he commands, and Sho does as he’s told, though it makes him feel small and inept. He forgets about it as soon as Jun slides a pillow under his head though.
“You don’t have to stay,” he mumbles against the pillow, sighing when Jun slips an icepack down across his cheeks and under the collar of his shirt to touch his collarbones, brushing away beads of sweat in his path. Sho doesn’t know where he got the pack from, nor does he recall Jun leaving long enough to get it, but things are a bit muzzy at the moment anyway and the cold feels fantastic. “That is, as long as you don’t mind taking the train back to the Jimusho.”
Jun touches his forehead and murmurs, “you have been such an idiot all day long.” It might be an admonishment, but there’s a certain degree of affection in it that even Sho, in his fever-induced state, can’t miss. “And after I leave, do you intend to eat?”
“I’ll make something,” Sho says, instinctively arching into the soothing touches of Jun’s fingers fluttering along his abdomen. He shivers when a rogue thumb hazards beneath the hem of his sweatshirt.
“We both know how that will turn out. I can make you some dinner, just quit being so stubborn.” Jun gives the edge of his sweatshirt a light tug. “Shift a bit so we can get this off. You’ll overheat.”
Sho obeys, and Jun strips the extra layer off for him, leaving him in his t-shirt and jeans. “But I’m cold,” Sho says, after a delay.
“I’ll get a blanket, it’ll be easier to remove when you get hot again, which you will,” Jun says, dropping down to be at Sho’s eye level. The furrow of concern between his brows is attractive in a way that makes Sho astonishingly grateful that he’s the person that look is concentrated on. He’s tempted to say it out loud but for some reason he thinks of the elephant in the car and bites his tongue. “Sho,” Jun says in a low voice, “please let me stay.”
No matter what Jun asks for, Sho knows he will grant it to him to the best of his abilities, especially when Jun asks in that tone. He grips Jun’s hand in an attempt to convey all of the messages that his mouth won’t give out. He doesn’t know if that will work so he tries his tongue anyway. “Stay,” is what he manages, “I’ll take the dinner offer. Say you’ll stay.”
Jun squeezes his hand and smiles. Then he lays a slow, gentle kiss against the corner of Sho’s mouth.
“I’m hallucinating again, aren’t I?” Sho asks with a despondent sigh.
“If you think so,” Jun snorts, but his smile is still firmly in place as he releases Sho’s hand to grab a blanket off of the back of the couch and spread it out over him. Then he promises, “you can find out whether or not it’s a hallucination after your fever breaks.”
“You didn’t say-” Sho begins, but Jun gives him that look again, the one that makes him grateful, and causes him to forget his name.
“Of course I’ll stay,” Jun says quietly, and he heads into the kitchen to start dinner.
Sho has never been happier to be sick in his entire life.